#golden dawn trial

[hisui-dreamer]

we are one

Characters: Trey, Ruggie, Rook, Sebek

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions

Word count: 4.5k+

Notes: im sorry this took so long lol, but part 4 is finally here!!

Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 3✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Shizuka (靜菓) with 静 meaning "quiet, still, calm" and 菓 meaning "confectionery, sweets, pastry"

your daughter had silky green hair the colour of fresh matcha and golden yellow eyes that were reminiscent of fresh honey

you named your daughter after her father's dislike of noise and his culinary abilities that never failed to amaze the whole of Heartslabyul

she's rather a quiet child, not very loud but too quiet either

she gets along with other kids perfectly fine, and she doesn't mind sharing or taking a step back at all, always choosing to go with the flow and not get worked up over small things

honestly she's really a mature kid

also just really good at being a peacekeeper and stopping other kids from getting into big fights

buut she does have a mischievous side and may tease her friends when she's in the mood to

at home, she's pretty obedient and will listen to you, but there are moments when she sneaks around

loves helping you with cooking, and her eyes sparkle when she's baking with you

she loves sweets and desserts, but thanks to your warnings about her dental health, she does stop herself from eating too much sugar

is slightly freaked out about cavities so don't you worry, she'll never need any reminding about brushing her teeth or late night snacks

when it comes to school, she doesn't put in too much effort, but you can tell she'd be excellent if she cared more about her grades

which is clearly shown when fixates on learning magic, always so focused that you'll have to call her twice before she snaps out of her trance

you can't blame her for giving it her all though, after all, you've never seen her more excited than when you told her how amazing a person her father is, calm and soothing like a gentle summer rain

once she puts her heart to it, there's really no stopping her

so on another normal evening, as you were cooking dinner while she was studying on the kitchen counter, you found yourself enveloped by a soft light

when you open your eyes, you find yourself standing outside a charming bakery, the fragrance of roses engulfing your senses

and peering through the bakery windows, was the man you had yearned for all these years

It was just a normal day of running the bakery for Trey. With the sun on the verge of setting, he began preparations for closing, when the soft chime of the bell announced a new customer's arrival. He turned around, catching sight of you. His eyes widened in surprise, mirroring the disbelief in your own.

Before words could be exchanged, Trey rushed past the counter. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you as he pulled you close. The years melted away, and the two of you were transported back to a time when you always had each other.

"Is this real?" he wondered aloud, your hearts pounding in sync.

You nodded into his shoulder, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. He pulled back slightly, brushing away your tears as his gaze softened, a warm smile gracing his lips.

"It's been a long time," he whispered. "I missed you so much."

he's just holding you tight, crying as he thanks the heavens for being so lucky to have you in his life again

trey returned to his hometown after graduation, helping out and eventually inheriting the family bakery

he loved incorporating your favourite foods into the store's selection, adding some new desserts from your world that you taught him, and always reminiscing on those tender moments when it was just the two of you in the kitchen

he always knew you had to go home eventually, but that didn't stop him from wishing you could be his life-long partner, supporting each other through thick and thin

so he's beyond grateful and excited to know you and his daughter(?!) shared the feelings even though you were apart

he's rather surprised about said daughter, but there would be no denying how similar they looked

shizuka is a bit nervous, tugging your skirt as she stares curiously at her supposed father

but Trey very quickly makes her feel at home, his warm smiles and even warmer hugs melting away all her nervousness!

he closes the bakery for a few days to help the two of you settle down a bit

this involves reunions with friends and of course, the clover family, who welcome you and their granddaughter with open arms

the clovers are just really really glad their son finally has someone in his life and that he seems a lot more energised now

Shizuka is very quickly introduced to uncle riddle!! who is very surprised but delighted by the behaving little girl who seems to stick to him a lot

uncle deuce and ace also get along with her wonderfully!! especially when Shizuka wants to play around with riddle for a bit hahaha

don't forget uncle cater who flies instantly to meet his new adorable niece and show her off on magicam!!

the three of you settle into a nice rhythm and you help out trey at the bakery now

Trey is very very affectionate with you always, pecking you on the cheek or nuzzling into your neck any chance he can get

Shizuka loves helping out whenever she can too!! she loves learning from her papa and sometimes will just spend hours watching him work

all in all, a blissful, simple family that Trey had always dreamed of, but never would he have believed he was so blessed to have the two of you come back to him

Trey gazed at the young girl, her silky green hair catching the light in a way that seemed surreal. With a heart full of emotions, he approached her hesitantly, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Shizuka, was it?" he spoke softly, the name lingering on his lips like a prayer. "It's so nice to meet you."

Shizuka's gaze flickered from Trey to you, seeking reassurance. With a gentle nod from you, she turned her attention back to him, her eyes studying him intently.

Trey knelt to her level, his heart racing. "I know this might be a lot to take in, but I'm your father."

She took a small step forward, cautious but curious. Trey extended his hand tentatively, offering a warm smile. Without a word, Shizuka reached out, placing her small hand in his.

A soft smile graced her lips, mirroring the warmth reflected in Trey's eyes. With a tentative but genuine embrace, Trey enveloped his daughter in his arms, tears cascading down his cheeks. Shizuka, feeling the sincerity in his embrace, wrapped her arms around him as well, a sense of belonging beginning to bloom within her.

Kenji (賢至) with 賢 meaning "intelligence, wisdom, cleverness" and 至 meaning "to arrive at, to reach, to come to"

Kenji (賢至) with 賢 meaning "intelligence, wisdom, cleverness" and 至 meaning "to arrive at, to reach, to come to"

your son had the softest hair the colour of wheat, and blue eyes that reminded you of cloudy skies

you named your son after how clever his father was, and his endless determination to reach his goals

he's a really sweet kid, always eager to help around and even others when he notices they're in need

you've heard about the many experiences his father had when he grew up, so you've tried your hardest to make sure Kenji wouldn't have to go through them, knowing it's what your hyena would've wanted

but even then, he's never complained about not having enough, there's a subtle wisdom to him that really mirrors his father

though he differs from him in that he's always willing to share, because he knows not everyone can be so lucky

he may not be too good at haggling prices, but his puppy dog eyes work just as well!

he loves doing chores with you, always smiling and laughing that familiar laugh as he helps you sweep the floor while he tells you about his day

he loves cuddles and kisses!!! his favourite part of the day is climbing into your warm bed to wrap his arms around you, asking you for a goodnight kiss and sometimes even bedtime stories

his ears and tails are a bit of a problem, so you keep his hair a bit long to hide the ears, or just say they're fun accessories

you've told him how his father's determination to support his family and community shined through even in unfortunate circumstances, the resourceful and intelligent man he became and you fell in love with

his blue-grey eyes almost resembled a clear sky when he listened to you, asking you more and more questions about this amazing person

he'll try learning more to be like him, but his kind nature stops him from being too schemey

he's not exactly academic weapon material, but he's pretty quick at absorbing information and putting it into practice

and with lots of determination and practice, he somehow manages to manifest the very thing the two of you wanted, and before your eyes was the man who never failed to make you laugh with him

As Ruggie's eyes adjusted, your figure slowly came into focus, revealing the very person who took his heart with them. "Prefect...?" He whispered, his voice a mix of disbelief and overwhelming joy.

His usually carefree expression shifted to one of disbelief, and then a bittersweet smile spread across his face as the tears welled up in his eyes. Without a second thought, he rushed towards you, sweeping you into a tight embrace.

"You're here... You're really here, right?" Ruggie mumbled, his voice choked with emotion.

You nodded furiously, comfort washing over you at his touch. "Yes, Ruggie, it's real. I'm really here."

His hand reached up to thread his fingers through your hair, cupping the back of your head. "I'm so glad... So, so glad..."

he's holding onto you as tightly as he can, so afraid that you'd disappear into the light if he let you loose for even a bit

after graduation, Ruggie followed leona to become his official attendant, what with him knowing how leona likes to get things done, and his ability to pick up etiquette cues

he's also a great information gatherer, so he's perfectly able to assist leona with his foreign affairs

it's leona's voice that finally breaks the two of you out of your trance, him rushing over to investigate that weird light

the two of you pull back and you almost wouldn't notice it, but leona's smile has softened a bit from the image you had in your memory

Ruggie never expected himself to be a father, and things are going a bit faster than he'd like, but there's no denying he's absolutely grateful to have you and your kid at his side

almost immediately the next day, he takes you back to his hometown so you and Kenji can meet grandma and the neighbourhood

grandma bucchi welcomes the two of you so warmly, she even gets a little teary eyed when she sees Kenji, with him looking so similar to the very hyena she raised

leona and Ruggie delegate a room for you in the side palace, where they also live, so you'll be able to see familiar faces often

Kenji loves following his father around, picking up his mannerisms and wanting to learn more about being more schemey

Ruggie's a bit conflicted his angel of a son wants to learn his ways but even he can't deny those puppy dog eyes

uncle leona and guard jack also love spending time with him! though one of them pretends it's annoying

leona shows him magic tricks and jack will teach him how to fight! he'll be getting great lessons all around

Kenji is very eager to learn more and explore this world, so sometimes you'll have to hold him back a bit just in case he gets hurt

but you suppose with the splendid man his father is, you don't have to worry too much

Ruggie's schedule can be a bit hectic and he pulls a lot of late nights, but he always tries to make time for his family

they're the most precious thing to him in the entire world, did you think he'd let them go that easily?

"Dad!" Kenji exclaimed, darting over to grasp at the fabric of Ruggie's pants. "You're my dad, right?"

Ruggie blinked in disbelief, shifting his gaze towards you. "Is... Is he?" he asked, hope saturating his voice.

You affirmed with a nod, and Ruggie redirected his attention to Kenji. "Yeah... I'm your dad..."

Instantly, Kenji wrapped his arms around Ruggie's legs. "Yay! I've always wanted to meet you, Dad!"

Ruggie couldn't help but marvel in awe at the bundle of joy now clinging to his legs, realizing that this spirited kid was the product of your love.

Ayaka (斐佳) with 斐 meaning "elegance, beauty, grace" and 華 meaning "flower, splendour, brilliance"　

Ayato (斐斗) with 斐 meaning "elegance, beauty, grace" and 杜 meaning "forest, grove, woods"

maybe a part of you should have expected it, with how unpredictable your beloved hunter always has been, but you ended up having to raise twins

the two had luscious golden locks that rivalled sunlight and sharp green eyes akin to the forests in the summer

you named the two of them after their father's love for all things beauty and his love for forests and nature

the two are well-behaved children, though they can be surprisingly sneaky and mischievous

Ayaka is more outgoing and is always fascinated by the pretty things in her vicinity

while Ayato is more introverted and quiet, often silently following his younger sister and nodding along to her ramblings

he definitely appreciates beauty, but he's less vocal about it

and whereas Ayaka is more fascinated by gems and cute plushies, Ayato is more interested in nature, finding beauty in the moss, the trees and the insects

the siblings are just really really curious about the world and they love observing the little details, from catching beetles to keep as pets, to planting flowers they found on a hike

they really do reflect your hunter's wide range of appreciation

the twins love sticking to each other and they're rarely arguing

though they do fight a bit over who helped you more with chores or who you love more

they're very helpful and efficient, and though they may complain about not wanting to work because the other twin is lazing, they'll still get the job done

they love watching tv shows and dramas, often acting out scenes in the shows or in fairytales

and oh the way their eyes sparkled when you told the fascinating man their father was, a man who could control his own heartbeat, keep track of time so accurately, and with such incredible eyesight, who devoted himself to spreading joy and beauty

almost immediately they doubled their efforts in studying, wanting desperately to meet the man to learn his ways and see for themselves just how interesting he is

and just like that, the dazzling light gradually subsided, unveiling a world that you thought only existed in your dreams

you remember the villa, it's where he took you on vacation for the first, and supposedly last time

You hesitantly knocked on the weathered wooden door of the villa, the echoes of your anticipation mingling with the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. As the door creaked open, memories flooded back to the first time you entered this place with the man who had captured your heart.

Rook's usual stoic expression shifted, replaced by a mix of surprise and unspoken emotions. "Mon amour... You're really here," he murmured, his voice a tender whisper that hung in the air. Without uttering a single word, he enfolded you in an embrace, as though afraid you might slip away like a fleeting dream.

"I missed you so much," you whispered back the tears flowing freely now that you've felt as you savour the warmth of his touch and the comforting scent of his cologne.

He pulled back, soft brushes of his fingers wiping your tears, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to capture the essence of the time that had passed. "I missed you too, so dearly..." he admitted as tears threatened to spill from his eyes, a rare vulnerability in his gaze.

this was the most emotion you'd seen from him, even when you said goodbye he kept a smile on his face

he's holding you so delicately, as if you were going to fade away if he applied just a bit more pressure

he's surprised by the children, but he instantly warms up to the idea!

he's remained a pursuer of beauty even after graduation, sponsoring artists while he makes a living through hunting and his film critique

he was taking a break in the family villa for old times sake, but it's almost as if the universe planned it all along

he's very affectionate with you, even more so than before, which you didn't even know was possible

always a warm hand on your waist, an occasional peck on your cheek, and every once in a while he'll feel the urge to pull you in for a hug

he tries to do everything for you so you don't even have to lift a finger, breakfast in bed, waking the children, even cooking and cleaning

he loves spending time with the twins!! teaching the two of them how to hunt and explore the forest safely

he'll show them pretty plants, and interesting fungi, all while explaining what properties they might have and whether or not they're poisonous

the twins are so fascinated by everything, their excitement and energy are seemingly endless

and who's a father to deny his children? he spoils them rotten

he also loves showing the kids a certain idol he's supported...

as well as films of vil!! occasionally talking over the movie to express how perfect a scene is or how flawless his acting is

and when the twins get to meet the vil schoenheit, they're beyond thrilled

asking questions, throwing compliments, all directed towards vil, but they're quiet the moment he tells them to shush

uncle vil loves talking to his niece and nephew, but only when they're... calm

uncle epel also loves popping by and giving the twins some apples so they'll get proper nutrition!

really, you'll have to step in to prevent your kids from being spoiled rotten

but you'll indulge Rook for a while, he's just blissfully happy with his family after all

"Are these...?" he began, his voice trailing off as he looked at the children with a mix of awe and wonder.

"Ours," you answered, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you delicately wiped away the tears that had welled up in your eyes. "Meet Ayato and Ayaka."

The hunter knelt down to their eye level, his usual face softening into a loving. "Ayato, Ayaka," he said, his voice gentle, "It's so nice to meet you. I'm your father."

The children exchanged glances before Ayaka stepped forward. "Hello father!" she exclaimed, throwing her tiny arms around him.

Ayato, the quieter one, followed suit with a nod, a shy smile on his face.

The hunter embraced them both, a warmth in his eyes that spoke volumes. "Such angels... Mon amour what a blessing you've granted me...," he sighed as he held them close.

Atsuki (惇貴) with 惇 meaning "sincerity, loyalty" and 貴 meaning "precious, valuable, honourable"　

your son had curly hair with the softest shade of light green, and piercing golden eyes with slits that reminded you of reptiles

you named your son after the chivalrous values his father had devoted his life to

he's a rather loud and excitable child, always forgetting to control his volume when he gets too emotional

doesn't really get along with other kids, but it doesn't affect him much, he's just happy to have his mama with him

if he's done something wrong, you don't even need to yell at him really, most of the time he's already holding back tears at the thought of disappointing you

very into sports and is also really good at several sports, he's earned a couple of medals and trophies already

he's not the best at magic, and you're also not too sure how his dark fae blood affects that, but he's still pretty good at making progress

he really is just a good kid who tries hard at everything and tries to make the right decisions, but he's quick to get disappointed when things don't go his way, and suddenly you're faced with a very familiar and endearing puppy dog face

so a lot of times, you'll just have to pull him in a hug, and remind him things almost never go the way we plan, and it's okay to accept defeat and learn from it

but there's nothing he's more motivated about than learning more about his dad, who in his mind, is an honourable, talented knight straight from the fairytales who devotes his life to protecting the people important to him

so much so, that you'll find him swinging around the toy sword you got him for training

he'll also start putting even more effort into learning magic, wanting to connect to his amazing papa in a way

and then on one night, you're not sure what triggered it, but he's incredibly emotional and crying about how he can't help you and you're always taking care of him and he just wants to have his dad in his life and it's all so unfair why his mama is alone and-

he starts emitting bright light, so bright you can't keep your eyes open, but you reach to hold him in your arms

when you no longer feel the bright light, you tentatively open your eyes, only to find yourself standing in the dark, spacious throne room of Briar Valley

and standing there, right next to the throne, was your knight in shining armour

Standing next to the grand throne, was your knight in shining armour, Sebek. He, along with Silver, stood in positions of defence, but the moment his eyes met yours, the mask of composure crumbled, and he rushed toward you with an urgency that mirrored the longing that had lingered in his heart during your separation.

He enveloped you in a fierce embrace, his arms securing you but also gentle to not hurt you with his armour.

"I thought... I thought I lost you," Sebek's voice was a shaky whisper against your ear, his grip on you tightening as if trying to confirm that you were indeed real.

"I'm here, Sebek. I found my way back," you reassured him, feeling the softness of his hair against your cheek.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he admitted, his words a whispered admission of the fears he had harboured, pressing his forehead gently to yours.

he's a mess the instant he sees you, and he melts completely when you're finally in his arms

malleus and silver are also immensely happy that you're back, calling lilia to join the family reunion

Sebek's pretty overwhelmed with your presence on its own, so silver and lilia have given him a gentle push to actually function and introduce himself to Atsuki

he's grown to be less awkward with his affection, and particularly with how long you've been away, he doesn't hold back too much

his hands are always inching closer to touch you, his forehead resting on your shoulder every once in a while, it's all really endearing

but his parenting style is a bit awkward

Atsuki really admires him, but that also makes him ever so slightly afraid of him

meanwhile, Sebek is nervous because he doesn't want to do anything that ruins the image of a perfect knight for his son

so they're a bit awkward, but with you as the middle person they can get along pretty well!

they bond over training, with Sebek teaching him sword fighting (with you reminding him not to push him too hard)

Atsuki also really enjoys sparing with uncle silver, who always lets him him, but Atsuki just wants him to fight for real, so it's just silver being "this is real??"

uncle malleus taking him out for gargoyle studies (Sebek is jealous lmao)

and of course, uncle lilia who cooks extremely nutritious meals that always end with Atsuki puppy dog eying you to save him

sebek's family is also very very happy to have you two!!

grandpa baul grumbles around a lot, but he keeps note of Atsuki's favourite foods to prepare them when he visits

also comments on his sword fighting and stance when he feels like it

mom and dad also adore you guys!! mrs. zigvolt loves giving you gifts and talking about sebek when he was younger haha

all in all, sebek's so incredibly grateful you could come back to him, and though he's still awkward with his affection sometimes, he'll never stop trying his best to love the both of you

Atsuki's eyes widened as he took in the sight of his father, the mythical figure he had only heard tales of until now.

Sebek's gaze shifted from you to Atsuki, and his breath caught. His eyes softened as he knelt down to be at eye level with the child who was undeniably his son. "Hello," he said, his voice trembling with a mix of joy and uncertainty. "I... I'm your father."

Atsuki's eyes flickered with a mixture of awe and excitement. "Papa?" he questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sebek nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to gently cup Atsuki's face. "Yes, little one. I'm your papa."

The room seemed to hold its breath as father and son locked eyes for the first time. Atsuki, still processing the enormity of the moment, broke into a wide, joyful smile. "Papa!" he exclaimed, launching himself into Sebek's arms.

Sebek, overwhelmed with emotion, held Atsuki close, a mix of laughter and tears escaping him. "I've missed so much, haven't I?" he murmured, his heart swelling with love for the son he never imagined to exist.

Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 3 ✧Masterlist

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[onyourowndaisymae]

when solomon falls in love

content + warnings: solomon x reader, angst with a happy ending, there is a deep sadness within solomon but i can fix him, minor discussions of s3 plot points // [masterlist]

word count: ~1.5k

the day solomon realizes he's in love with you is the worst day of his life, he thinks, in the first moment he realizes.

solomon's had a lot of terrible days. from simple ones-- caught in the rain, misplaced keys, harsh words spoken by people he cares about-- to life-altering, fate-changing hellish days. he's been around for centuries, and admittedly conjured himself up some pretty shitty karma. this day, however, tops the list.

because the moment solomon realizes he's in love with you is the moment he realizes he'll never have you.

it's a rare moment the both of you are sharing. the two of you are alone in a coffee shop in some quaint corner of the human realm. your trials with the sorcerer society have been wearing on you, so solomon saw it fitting to sweep his adorable little apprentice away for some well-deserved down time.

it's dawn here. sunlight peaks through the clouds, painting the gray skies a vibrant orange through the shop's large windows. the sunlight tickles your cheekbones, occasionally catching your eyes and making them flutter as you dodge the blinding sunbeams. how long has it been since solomon's seen you in the daylight? the devildom is beautiful, but it's dark and dim during all hours of the day. he's used to seeing you under city lights, shop signs and advertisements in neon colors dancing across your features. or under the warm-but-artificial house lights in all the buildings down there, cozy but not quite the same. no, you look best in daylight. golden, pure daylight, trickling through the cosmos just so he can see every detail on your face.

he wants to memorize you. he wants to etch your features into his brain so that he'll be able to remember you far into the future. the coming days are uncertain. licensure into the sorcerer's society is not exactly easy-- you'll have your work cut out for you if you continue down this path. maybe somewhere along the way you'll find yourself content instead with a simple life in the human realm, shedding the devildom like a winter coat in spring when your life begins a new chapter. he's always worried about you, about losing you, about a day when you'll bid him goodbye for good. obsessive? he likes to think of it as "sentimental". and he's never been this sentimental for anyone else but you.

you take a sip of your drink with a small smile. it's cold outside, the subtle chill of autumn beginning to fade into the biting cold of winter. the drink in your hands is warm, and you cup it between your between your palms for warmth. he smiles. his own drink is smooth and a little bitter. solomon he grabs the last sugar packet from the center of the table and dumps it in, swirling the mixture around the distribute the sweetness. then he folds the trash into a compact ball. there's a dink! as he flicks it at you, hitting your cheek gently before it falls onto the table. you laugh at his antics. it's the best sound he's ever heard.

"gotcha."

"what are you, seven?"

"you're just mad i have good aim."

"yeah, yeah, whatever, old man. do... do you mind if i ask you a question?"

"anything."

you proceed to ask him how he found this place. technically, it's not even in the country you're from... he laughs and explains how he found it. he likes when your attention is focused all in on him. your eyes get this certain glint to them as you listen, like he's the only person you care about in that moment. he'd kill to see that look anywhere else-- could you imagine the faces of the demon brothers should you look at him so attentively around them?

solomon swallows down the lump of jealousy rising in his throat. that's the thing. you don't look at him like that in front of anyone else.

his next sip of coffee tastes bitter, more so than before-- he can't blame the shop, nor the sugar packet for the taste, but instead the acid creeping up his throat from the mere displeasure of the idea. it's so very solomon to ruin his own good time with a nasty thought.

why?

why does he do this to himself? to cherish something so delicate even though he knows it will shatter under the weight of life's circumstances?

that's because solomon's in love with you. and love doesn't always listen to reason.

he has toyed around with the idea of loving you for awhile. he doesn't want to. he doesn't want to always be the petulant, lost child he once was, always reaching for things he was never destined to have. when he was young, he craved freedom. as an adult, power. and now, further along in his life, he wants you.

you seem to notice the sour look on his face. your eyebrows furrow as you ask him what's wrong. it's instinct that guides him to brush you off, to give you a big smile and feign attention into whatever you begin talking about next.

does he deserve you? probably not. his sins probably outweigh that of any lower demon. he's lied and cheated, fucked people over in ways unimaginable to someone like you. you're a blank slate, a clean ledger, yet to ruin your own life. or maybe you won't. you've always been better than him that way.

will he ever distance himself to heal from the wounds of unrequited love? probably not. he'll stick by your side as you inevitably choose one of the demon brothers or angels or royals over him-- he won't blame you. of all the fascinating people you've met, he understands the allure of a human like him is dim in comparison. no hard feelings. he can't ever seem to muster up anything sour towards you.

"are you listening?" you finally ask, loud enough to grab his attention. he shakes his head with a small chuckle.

"sorry. i'm... a bit scatterbrained today. what were you saying?"

you huff. "i was telling you a story, but i bent my straw too far and it broke."

you bend it again to show him the damage. sure enough, it's snapped under the weight of your fidgeting. solomon's lips curl into a sympathetic pout.

"i can grab you another."

"nah, it's okay. i've got it."

you rise from your seat and walk to the counter of the coffee place. solomon takes a deep breath and steals his resolve. all this self-loathing and pining is making him a bad friend, and you deserve much better than to talk to a brick wall. he sighs. so what if he's in love with you? so what if he's lost in the tumult of his own feelings? he needs to get it together and enjoy this time with you before you return to the devildom, and he has to share you aga--

"excuse me?"

"yes? how can i help you?"

"can i get another straw? oh, and can i get some more of those little sugar packets? my boyfriend used the last one on the table."

"of course! give me one moment--"

...

what?

his brain almost completely shuts down hearing those words leave your lips. he subtly looks around to see if anyone else is in the coffee shop-- there's a man in the corner reading his paper and two teenagers huddled over iced coffee. no, none of them are at your table, using the last sugar packet like he did, your boyfriend--

"close your mouth. you're attracting flies," you say quietly, sliding a few sugar packets over to him.

he's... flabbergasted, honestly. during the entirety of his downward spiral, never once did he anticipate this outcome. you... you wanted him?

his lips pull into a smirk-- it's more of a grin than he wanted, but he just can't help himself right now. he's damn near giddy at your indirect confession.

"boyfriend? you wouldn't happen to be referring to me, would you?"

"that's why you brought me here, right?"

that question catches him off-guard. honestly, no. he just wanted some time to breathe with you, without obligations or demons ready to pounce for your attention. but the way your lips curl around the straw between them makes his heart race.

"... and if i did?"

"then i would say this is a pretty good date spot. now, pay attention when i talk, old man."

as attentive as he aims to be, he just can't stop his mind from wandering. you're his. all of the fear and angst wash away as the sun shines brightly on your table, illuminating the delicate wood grain beneath his trembling fingers. and for once, solomon doesn't worry about what will happen if he lets himself love you.

maybe this day isn't so bad after all.

taglist for this series: @deepseafragments // @darkflowerav // @annoying-and-upset

[torakowalski]

Swimmer Steve has reached summer 1988 and is inching closer to become Olympic Swimmer Steve!

I've got a confession. When I checked where the Olympic swimming trials were in 1988, the site I found told me Indianapolis. So I wrote this part! But then I double checked and it turns out the 1992 trials were Indianapolis but the 1988 ones were Austin. HOWEVER, it's too late, so pls accept this tiny deviation from reality.

(part one | part five)

"This is so fucking cool," Gareth yells in Eddie's ear, over all the different noises crashing around the natatorium.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, way more pleased than he wants to let on. He doesn't know why Gareth's here, but they all are: Gareth and Jeff and Chris, plus Robin and all Steve's kids.

Wayne's sitting further back with Mrs Henderson, away from some of the noise, but he's here too.

"Hell, yeah." Gareth grins at him. "How many times can you say you've seen someone you know audition for the Olympics?"

"It's not called auditioning," Chris says, elbowing him.

"It is, if you want to annoy Steve," Eddie tells him. He thinks it goes without saying that he always wants to annoy Steve.

It's blind luck that the Olympic swimming trials are happening in Indianapolis. Sure, Steve acted like it was no big deal, and said he didn't expect anyone to come, but Eddie knows how goddamn delighted he is that everyone's made it here for the second day.

Eddie's pleased too, of course he is, but he did kind of enjoy yesterday when it was just him here for the heats. Sue him, but he gets Steve to himself so often that he's maybe forgotten how to share.

There's some shuffling from further down the row of seats, and then Gareth gets shoved out the way and Dustin takes his place.

"Who are our main competitors?" he asks, looking at Eddie expectantly. He's got a notebook out and everything, like he's gonna come up with a plan to take them down.

Eddie starts to answer and realises that the rest of Steve's gang are listening in too. It dawns on him that he's the expert here. He's the one who's been up and down the country, going to meets with Steve, and he knows about this shit now.

He never thought he'd willingly learn anything about a sport, and even less that he'd admit to knowing anything, but it turns out you'll do a lot of unexpected shit when you're head over heels for a jock.

Even a straight jock. Even one who's been nothing but sweet about his stupid crush.

Speaking of which, here he comes now, golden skin and black speedos, standing out from the rest of the hopefuls, at least to Eddie.

"What happened to his chest hair?" Lucas asks, from one of the seats in front of Eddie. Their little Hawkins gang is really taking up a lot of this stadium.

"Right?" Max mutters, sounding disappointed.

Eddie tips forward to lean in between them. "He has to wax. Legs too."

"Ow," says Lucas, shuddering. "What's wrong with staying hairy?"

"You didn't say that when you asked why I hadn't shaved," Max says.

Lucas throws up his hands. "I didn't mean it that way! I've said I'm sorry and that I didn't mean it that way!"

It sounds like an old argument. The only bad thing about spending all his time with Steve these days, is that they miss a lot of the kids' day to day dramas. The ones that are too small to get relayed to them over the phone, anyway.

He knows Steve feels that too. He's planning to have a real break back home, after the Olympics. If he makes it to the Olympics. Fuck, Eddie hopes he makes it to the Olympics.

There's a buzz down below by the pool, everyone lining up for the first semi-final. Backstroke first. One of Steve's favourites.

"Okay," Eddie says, and takes a deep breath. "Here we go."

Steve makes it through all his semis easily, which Eddie had known he would, but had still panicked about.

There's a break before the finals, but Eddie unexpectedly can't make himself move. He's too keyed up, so tense and nervous for Steve that it's gone all the way around in a circle and frozen his legs.

"He's doing great!" Dustin says, easy and relaxed, because he's not worried. Whether Steve believes it or not, Dustin thinks he can do anything.

"Yeah." Eddie nods. "Yeah. Yeah, really great."

Dustin frowns at him. "... isn't he?"

Fuck, now Eddie is infecting other people with his anxiety. That's not cool. "He is doing so great," he says. "Like, fucking fantastic." He grins at Dustin, wide enough that he feels it stretch the scar on his cheek that doesn't move as easily as the rest of his face.

"So what's wrong with you?" Dustin asks.

If it was anyone else, except Wayne and maybe Gareth, Eddie would deny anything being wrong at all. But he and Dustin are bonded by like, bats and death and shit. So instead, he finds himself admitting, "He just wants this so bad. It's gonna shatter him, if he doesn't qualify."

"But he will," Dustin says. He grins crookedly at Eddie. "It's cute how much you care about him getting what he wants."

"Shut the fuck up," Eddie tells him, but affectionately.

They grab lunch while the 1500 metres guys do their semis, and they're back before the 50 metre finals.

Steve doesn't do 50 metres, says it's too short to be interesting, but Eddie thinks there's something cool about watching people whizz along down one length then be done. The fact that he enjoys races that Steve isn't even in is no good for his cred and not something he's gonna tell anyone.

Two minutes before Steve's first final, Robin drops into the seat next to Eddie. She doesn't say anything, just reaches out and clutches his hand.

Since he knows exactly how she feels, he just clutches back.

Steve qualified third fastest out of all the semi-finalists for this one, so he's in a decent, middle lane. He's easy to spot in his yellow swim cap, amongst all the reds and blacks.

"I'm gonna throw up," Robin says conversationally.

"Yup," Eddie agrees.

It's backstroke again first, so the swimmers all get into the water before the start. It feels like it's happening in slow motion, which might be because Eddie isn't breathing.

The whistle blows and they're off. It's a 200 metre race, so four lengths. Steve keeps up easily for the first length, is slightly ahead at the start of the second, but he falls behind just, just slightly right before the turn for the third.

Robin's fingernails digging into the back of Eddie's hand are all he can feel.

"Go Steve!" Max yells, followed a second later by the rest of the kids.

But Eddie already knows it's too late, Steve pushed himself too fast too early and he's not gonna catch up.

He finishes fifth. And, like, that makes him the fifth fastest guy in America in the backstroke, but fifth isn't gonna get him a spot at the Olympics.

"It's okay," Eddie hears himself saying, because the kids look kind of stunned. "It's okay, backstroke's done, we move on. He's still got three more finals; he just needs to place first or second in one of those. It's totally okay."

"What if it's not?" Robin hisses.

"Then I'm gonna cry."

She nods. "I'll join you."

Eddie watches as Steve drags himself out of the pool. He stands for a minute, then follows the others back to the changing rooms, without looking up at the stands.

He finishes third in the butterfly.

He comes second in the breaststroke, but it's a joint second, tied with some guy from Nebraska, and Eddie just doesn't know if that will be enough. What he really needs is a win.

"He's better than this," Robin says, voice hoarse from yelling Steve's name. "He is, right? He's been winning all his other meets."

"He's nervous. He's tensing up." Eddie wants to go down there and do something, anything to make Steve believe he can still do this.

It's late by the time the swimmers troop back out for the breaststroke final. Eddie's tired just from watching, he can't imagine how they all feel.

Steve's last out because he won this semi-final. He's the favourite for this one, but even across the distance between them, it's easy to see he's still frustrated with himself from the other races.

"Everyone cheer," Eddie orders before jumping up and fucking, whooping. Making a fool of himself at a sports event? He never thought he'd see the day.

Steve sees him then sees the kids join him and laughs, his whole body relaxing. He waves, waves again.

"Knock 'em dead, Harrington!" Eddie yells and ignores the looks he gets from the other families dotted around.

"Drown them!" Dustin yells, which makes Steve cover his face with his hands, but probably to hide his laughter rather than his dispair.

"He's gonna do it," Robin says. "He's got to."

Eddie sinks back into his seat, and can't say anything.

They line up, Steve dead centre this time. The whistle blows.

Steve's dive is beautiful, sends him nearly half way down the pool before he has to come up for air. He makes the first tumble turn ahead of everyone else, and then he's unstoppable. It's like he's been waiting for this moment, like everything has kicked into place.

He's in the lead for the second length, the third. A guy from California starts to creep up on him half way down the last length and Eddie has a second to think this is all gonna get snatched away, but it turns out Steve's not gonna let it.

He puts on a burst of speed that looks superhuman, fucking shoots himself through the water, leaves everyone in his wake and slaps his hand down on the end two maybe three strokes ahead of everyone else.

Their section erupts.

Dustin and Gareth and Robin all hug Eddie, like he's somehow had anything to do with this. Over their shoulders, he can see Wayne and Mrs Henderson cheering as loud as the rest of them.

He kisses Robin's cheek, says, "You're crying."

"Damn right, I am," she sniffs. She pats her hand against his cheek. "So are you."

"Huh," says Eddie, who hadn't noticed. "Your boy done good."

"Our boy," Robin says, "is going to the Olympics. You should say congrats to him with a kiss."

Eddie snorts. "Maybe I will," he says, knowing he won't. Steve doesn't want that. "Maybe I will."

(continued)

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Riddle Rosehearts - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Riddle: Look at this massive collection of masterpieces… This museum truly is spectacular.

Riddle: Now then, I should be coming up on the exhibit displaying the Queen of Hearts soon… Aha!

Riddle: It's a painting depicting the scene where the Queen appears before her card soldiers… She looks so majestic.

???: Both her expression and the way her lithe fingers grasps her dress is utterly refined. Moreover, that red and black dress looks spectacular on her!

Rook: This work of art expresses just how charming the dignified Queen of Hearts was.

Riddle: Charming… you say? I shouldn't expect any less of an observation coming from you, Rook-senpai. I have to admit that I'd never thought of it that way.

Riddle: It's said that she would always make sure to wear this dress and her golden crown even during the most important of trials.

Rook: It must have been her regal formal attire, then. Heh, now I can't help but be curious what she wore in her own time.

Rook: I'm also curious as to what casual wear you partake in, as well, Roi des Roses.

Riddle: Eh, me? I wouldn't think it's anything that would catch the interest of the Pomefiore Vice Housewarden...

Riddle: As a rule, I don't tend to wear anything more lax than smart casual. My parents always said that I should never forego a tie, after all.

Rook: An elegant assortment that suits you well!

Riddle: Thank you. I am quite fond of the style, so it pleases me to hear you say that.

Riddle: However, there are times that my usual attire doesn't fit the situation…

Rook: Oh, is that so?

Riddle: Yes. Once, I and three others traveled to Foothill Town in order to purchase new equipment for my club activities from a store there.

Riddle: When I arrived at the appointed meeting place, everyone looked perplexed, asking if I planned on truly wearing what I had on to town.

Riddle: Since this was an errand for our club, and we would be carrying heavy objects, I had opted to wear my PE uniform.

Rook: Oh là là! True, it may be easier to move around in that uniform… But it may have been a tad impractical to wear out to town.

Riddle: Yes… I should have worn my normal clothes. Unfortunately, I didn't own a single casual outfit to wear while doing manual labor.

Riddle: So, I decided to ask Ace and Cater for help, since they're much more cognizant of fashion trends.

Riddle: Perhaps they could help me figure out what sort of attire I could wear when going shopping with my clubmates.

Rook: Those two do seem to have an eye for fashion, I agree. How did they react?

Riddle: They agreed that my normal attire was much too formal, and would look out-of-place while alongside my clubmates.

Riddle: However, it's uncertain when I may be required to join others for an errand again.

Riddle: It would be bad form to cause my compatriots to feel uncomfortable. So, I came to the conclusion that something must be done to rectify this situation.

Riddle: When I voiced that to those two, they gave me a few pointers that would allow for my current wardrobe to look slightly more casual.

Riddle: For example, I could wear my usual shirts with no tie, and with the top button open.

Rook: That makes sense, it would loosen up the stiff formal wear and make it seem more casual.

Riddle: Yes, I suppose… Although, it seems I just cannot get comfortable without my collar closed all the way, even if it to try for a more casual look.

Rook: Hm, so you're saying that change wasn't to your taste, then?

Riddle: Exactly that. I mentioned that to Ace and Cater, and after much discussion…

Riddle: Instead of changing how I wore my clothes, we decided to adjust the material and sizes of the clothes to help dress down more casually.

Rook: I see! Even a jacket can look more casual if it's made of linen or polyester.

Riddle: That's right. It was a thought that never would have occurred to me. …Heh! My card soldiers are quite excellent thinkers, aren't they?

Riddle: After that, I traveled to Foothill Town with those two and they helped me select a few new outfits…

Riddle: Next time I am to go into town with my schoolmates, I intend on wearing the clothes I bought then.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Rook: This is a painting depicting a tale of the Son of the God of Thunder, I see. It's quite awe-inspiring with how both he and the pegasus beside him strike such gallant poses.

Riddle: Indeed. It is said that whenever he went into battle, this pegasus fought right alongside him.

Riddle: Whenever I come across one of his historical anecdotes, I cannot help but bring to mind a good partner of mine, as well.

Rook: That partner of yours wouldn't happen to have a beautiful coat of hair, now, would it?

Rook: I heard that you achieved high marks at the most recent equestrian tournament.

Riddle: You heard correctly. I believe Vorpal and I have a deep, mutual trust between ourselves. However, it was quite difficult for us to reach this point, I must say.

Rook: Oh, really?

Riddle: Yes. A little while after I joined the club, the horse I was assigned to ride was Vorpal.

Riddle: However, Vorpal was extremely prideful and would be very particular of which humans could ride him.

Riddle: No one else was ever allowed to ride atop his back in the three years since the previous club captain graduated.

Riddle: For some time after I joined the club, he wouldn't allow me to even place a saddle on his back, let alone ride him.

Riddle: Not only was he a prideful horse, but he was also temperamental. I was often vexed that I couldn't tame him well…

Riddle: But nowadays whenever I visit the stables, he'll come up and nudge me as if he had been waiting for my arrival.

Rook: I suppose that means all those days you zealously spent getting to know him finally melted his icy heart.

Rook: Beauté! What a beautiful relationship.

Riddle: I-I feel as though calling it beautiful may be a slight exaggeration… But I will say I was very pleased when he finally accepted me as his rider.

Riddle: I only learned of it later, but I heard that I was given responsibility over Vorpal intentionally as some sort of hazing.

Riddle: It seems they hoped that I would complain about how difficult it was to tame him and quit the club.

Rook: That sort of harassment shouldn't be tolerated. I'm curious as to why that sort of situation occurred.

Riddle: From what I was told, it all came about because I would chide them whenever they would slack off on training or while cleaning the stables…

Riddle: I simply spoke frankly, there should not have been any ill-will between us.

Rook: Essentially, you overcame the challenges presented to you, and claimed victory over your opponents alongside your partner.

Rook: Fufu, how wonderfully dramatic. Almost as if you were the fated protagonist of a story, going the distance to seize his destiny!

Riddle: A-Another exaggeration…

Riddle: Although, I am very proud of the fact that Vorpal and I were able to become good partners.

Riddle: No form of hazing would ever prove to be an obstacle for me. This story simply proves that.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Riddle: This painting… It depicts the moment the Sorcerer of the Sands acquired that scarab.

Riddle: See the dark blue night sky and the bright golden light… This artwork is highly praised for the beautiful color play.

Rook: This scarab was a key that would lead the way to a magical cave when its two halves were made whole. Do I recall that legend correctly?

Riddle: That's right. It's said that the Sorcerer of the Sands granted a lavish reward to the person who brought one half of the scarab to him.

Rook: That must have meant it was something of great importance to him.

Rook: Once he had obtained such an important key, I'm sure he would have had to take great measures so as to not lose it.

Riddle: True, it is vital to keep keys safe.

Rook: Oh? Riddle-kun, do you have some treasure of your own you've kept hidden?

Riddle: I wouldn't consider it a treasure… But I do have something that I wouldn't wish for others to lay their eyes on.

Rook: Oh, my! Have I touched on a private matter? If so, I apologize profusely.

Riddle: It's nothing to fret over. I'm simply speaking of my Housewarden journal. It contains minutes from the Housewarden meetings and documentation of my duties as Housewarden, among other things…

Riddle: I also have recorded down certain information about my dorm's students, so I would not like it leaked to anyone outside of myself.

Rook: Fufu, I can see just how seriously you're fulfilling your duties as Housewarden, Riddle-kun.

Riddle: If I can keep records of even the most trivial note, I find that it allows me to understand and manage every situation that occurs within my dorm.

Riddle: Only, recently there are more things to write about. It's as if the number of incidents that require more description are increasing.

Rook: Well, that's fascinating. If it isn't asking too much, could I perhaps ask what sort of situations those are?

Riddle: That have been such incidents such as when an argument broke out between Ace and Deuce that I had to involve myself in…

Riddle: Or the time the two from Ramshackle caused a ruckus at one of our Unbirthday Parties…

Riddle: As the number of incidents that need to be recorded increase, the more effort it takes.

Riddle: My days have changed considerably from when I first assumed the duties of a Housewarden, almost unimaginably so…

Riddle: Now that I've had to report on more incidents per day, the number of notebooks I go through have also increased.

Rook: It's as though you're more keeping a diary than just keeping records! Wouldn't you say that the whole reason you've found more to write about is because…

Rook: Your daily life has become even more magnificent and satisfying compared to before?

Riddle: A diary…? I wonder if that's truly so.

Rook: Oui! I myself cannot stop the flowing composition of poems that spill from my hand whenever I am feeling inspired.

Rook: Oh, my, it seems I've kept you for far too long. I should take my leave. I'll talk to you later, Riddle-kun.

Riddle: Of course, Rook-senpai. Well then, I should head towards the next exhibit as well… Hm?

Riddle: This is a painting that shows the tea party scene from the stories of the Avidly Curious Girl.

Riddle: Not only did she invite herself to the tea party, she also drank some potions without permission. Her rude behavior is what leaves a lasting impression.

Riddle: It is said she was searching for a path home… But I'm sure at the rate she was going, she would not be able to find a path to redemption.

Riddle: Regardless of where she came from or where she wanted to go.

Requested by @farfalla049, @sakurakudo, and @a-s-k--g-a-b-i.

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

You | Lute x Redeemed!Sinner

Warnings: post season one by two months BUT Adam miraculously survived, Lute was able to get her arm regrown by some divine intervention, Lute being a bitch 97% of the time, Adam being Adam, reader being a sweetheart, strong language, some derogatory nicknames towards sinners, reader is HEAVILY implied to be a bisexual (real queen shit), WxW, probably very out of character for both Lute and Adam — but I've never written for either of them before ✨

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: you were a redeemed sinner, yet Lute still hated you. . . Though soon, things would change for the better.

A/N — Silva is Latin for Forest *** (I know, I'm so creative). The sick meal is something I love even when I'm not sick, but feel free to imagine whatever you want for it :) but remember: ALWAYS WASH YOUR RICE

The sky brightened, bringing along with it the dawn of your first day in Heaven. Having been a long time resident of the Hazbin Hotel, you were as skeptical as the others, but played your part in wanting Charlie's dreams to come true. 

You were the first official resident, though more of an employee by the time Angel Dust came around, and a friend — a damned good one — to anyone who came through those doors. 

It didn't matter who they were. Whether it was Alastor, Husk, or even Lucifer himself, it didn't matter. You were an excellent listener.

Perhaps that was part of the reason you had been redeemed. 

It was possible that the other part of the reason why was because you regretted your singular act of immoral wrath when you were alive and you thought about it every day. 

You had walked the straight and narrow your entire life — married young and planned on having children once you were out of college and had a stable job. . . Then your husband cheated on you with his co-worker and it was as if you were possessed by blind rage. You killed him. 

You didn't kill her — she didn't know you existed, so you let her live. . . Then she found out of your existence rather quickly and karma came in the form of a pissed off woman wearing cheap perfume and fake red bottoms. 

So you crash landed into Hell immediately. No trial in purgatory. Straight into the melting pot of horrendous historical figures that you had been forced to write essays about in High School and people like you, who did one wrong thing. 

Watching the sun rise for the first time in almost ten years, you supposed you owed it all to Charlie. Having her as a supportive friend throughout your stay. 

First to arrive, second to be redeemed. 

The halo and wings were an odd feeling compared to the horns and sharp tail. . . As well as the white, light blue, and gold version of the outfit you were wearing when you ascended. Odd but welcomed. 

“Thank you.” You whispered aloud, sitting on the dock behind the building you had been guided to upon your arrival just hours before, surrounded by the water that was completely unaffected by murkiness or toxic waste. It was the cleanest water you'd ever seen. 

Wind chimes sang in the breeze that slightly rippled the top of the vast lake, distorting the reflected pinks and yellows of the golden sunrise. 

Voices drew closer, yet they didn't matter as the air warmed comfortably, the sun rising higher and higher in the blue sky. 

It was nice seeing blue instead of red. It felt human. It felt calm. 

“[Y/N]?” A voice called out and you turned around to face the newcomer. 

A smile broke out on your face as you came to see Sera with Sir Pentious and Emily at her side. The younger seraphim was buzzing with excitement. 

You carefully stood so as to not fall into the lake, approaching them slowly. “It's good to see you again, Pentious.” You said, hugging the former snake demon. 

He returned the quick embrace and blushed, just like he did when you were both in Hell. You and Charlie were the first to give him a chance. “You too missss [Y/N]. . .” 

You smiled at him once again before turning to Emily, who seemed to be the one temporarily in charge. “Welcome to Heaven! There's so much for you to see and do! But first, do you have any questions?”

“Where exactly in Heaven are we?” You questioned, gesturing to the lake with trees to either side, but with water for as far as you could see. 

“You're at the Silva Lake house.” Sera spoke up. “It was built when Sir Pentious arrived, as a way to prepare him for the eyes of the other angels who never set foot in Hell. . . As well as a potential sanctuary for any other sinners who may be redeemed along the way, such as yourself.”

A sanctuary for the redeemed made perfect sense when you thought about it. Heaven had to do something to not only make up for the mistake in leadership that led to the annual Extermination Day, but they couldn't just throw former sinners into society without getting them used to the new conditions. 

It would be like bringing a knife to a gunfight. . . They'd be ill prepared and it wouldn't look good for anyone, especially the higher-ups. 

“So, what do we have to do?” 

This time it was Emily who replied to you. “Just be here and show us that you have no problem learning how things work up here. . . It's not too complicated, but there are a few new rules in place after recent events. . . But don't worry! I'm sure you'll both be fine!” She smiled brightly, clapping her hands together. 

You could only hope everything would be alright.

Two weeks after your arrival, you had begun to think that you could handle the new realm in which you resided. 

At the Silva Lake house, you had a set routine which consisted of a lovely breakfast with Sir Pentious in the breakfast nook, morning lessons with Emily, a silent nature stroll with Sera, a trip to the city — just barely inside the limits — purely so you could see what you'd eventually be joining, and dinners alone because Sir Pentious was allowed to stay in the city longer than you and go further because he had been there longer.

It was nice to have a schedule, but having the same one every day was beginning to bore you. At least Charlie's schedules had made room for stuff outside of trust exercises. . . Stuff like hotel movie nights, family dinners, and fun outings. 

Two weeks and you thought you were ready. A five minute meeting was all it took for that false sense of readiness to fly out the window. 

One look in the golden eyes of the woman who would've killed you less than three months ago, had it not been for Vaggie stepping in, was enough to make you feel as if your leg was still stuck under the burning pile of rubble with an angelic blade mere inches away from your throat. 

The pain and any physical indication of it happening was long gone, but the memory was still there as if it had just happened moments ago. 

Yet you still regarded her as if she was an inhabitant of the hotel — with a smile and an open mind. 

Your welcoming smile was met with a glare of disdain from the exorcist angel, who looked as if she'd try to kill you again if you so much as breathed wrong in her direction. 

Shockingly, Adam, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the whole meeting, was more open to conversing with you than Lute was. This was all part of Heaven's new plan. 

Forgiveness. 

Sera wanted you to forgive Lute for the part she played in almost killing you and your friends. 

She wanted Sir Pentious to forgive Adam for ‘killing’ him during the battle. 

And she wanted them to forgive the both of you for the roles played in the battle, despite you avoiding the battle where you could. 

“I sincerely apologize for the role I played in the battle that cost you many angels.” You said, catching Emily giving you two thumbs up from behind the two. 

“Now, Lute. . . Apologize to her.” Sera ordered lightly. 

The exorcist crossed her arms. “No. Why should I have to apologize to a lowly sinner?” She scoffed. “Not happening.”

You frowned. Lowly sinner? Ouch. . . 

“She is redeemed, Lute —”

“Is she? She looks the same. A wardrobe makeover doesn't change who someone is. And she practically reeks of Hell.” Lute turned her nose up at you. 

“I think that's enough for this evening, Sera. . . Adam, Lute. . . I apologize once again and hope you can find it within your hearts to forgive me.” You then turned away and walked towards your room.

“Sure thing, Bitch!” Adam called out just before your bedroom door closed roughly with a click. 

Lowly sinner? Reeking of Hell? 

The words stung. . . You should be mad, or even mildly frustrated. . . But you're more disappointed. Even when Adam, Lute, and the other exorcists were attacking your friends, you had been nice. . . But they didn't seem to care. It felt like you were redeemed for nothing. 

So you laid on your bed in silence, with tears unwillingly cascading down your cheeks, until your usual dinner time rolled around and Emily coaxed you out before she and Sera left. 

As you warmed up a prepped meal, you noticed that Adam and Lute were still there at the lake house, though neither paid any mind to you. Not while you milled about the kitchen. Not while you ate. 

The only time they paid any attention to you was when you walked across the far side of the living room to reach the bathroom for your evening shower. Even then, Lute only glared while Adam made derogatory comments about joining you in the shower. 

You ignored both of them, and when you came out of the bathroom, they were no longer in the living room, so you assumed they left. 

It became evident just hours later that they, in fact, hadn't left. The dead giveaway was the loud rock music that played from the TV in the living room, during a time you knew Sir Pentious was asleep — and the former snake demon didn't care for rock all that much. He was more of a classical music guy, but he could also get behind r&b. 

And you knew with the time, Sera and Emily wouldn't be around for another four hours.

You wanted to ignore it. Oh you tried so hard to ignore it, going as far as to cover your head with one of your pillows. . . But you could still hear it. And now you couldn't fall back asleep. 

Trying was pointless. 

Your morning started two hours earlier than it usually did, which unironically gave you time to do things that you couldn't do with the tight schedule. . . Like having morning coffee by the lake as the sun rose, breakfast that wasn't cereal or freezer waffles, or even a nice little swim with a shower after.

“What the fuck, dude?” You heard Adam's tired voice yell from the opposite side of the lake house, the music immediately muting. 

Lute's more awake voice could be heard through the walls, but you were unable to make out anything she was saying. . . So you sighed and went on to make a nice breakfast, in hopes it would help set the mood for the day. 

A good mood for a good day — hopefully. 

Adam and Lute weren't allowed to leave until all was forgiven and peace was made between the four of you. Orders from the almighty creator who hadn't taken too kindly to Sera, Lute, and Adam attempting to play God in his absence. 

What shocked you the most was Emily canceling lessons for the foreseeable future, purely because she could, saying ‘you've been at this for a while, you deserve a break so you're not burnt out’.

It was almost laughable. 

After the disruptive morning of rock n’ roll, you went back to the regular schedule for the most part. . . But before you knew it, you had been in Heaven for a month and your limits were being tested. 

Your food had gone missing from the fridge. 

Your laundry had gotten mixed up, despite being separated by your hand. . . Which resulted in two of your brand new favorite shirts to shrink in the dryer — you still wore them anyway.

Things you set down were never where you placed them. 

At first it drove you crazy — you thought you were losing your mind. Until Sir Pentious had come to you one late evening and revealed something he noticed. 

Lute had been either eating your food or throwing it away. 

Lute had been the one switching your laundry around. 

Lute had been the one moving everything you set down. 

You couldn't understand why someone would go to such lengths to inconvenience you when you had been so accommodating for the both of them. . . So you ignored her. 

And it pissed her off. 

How dare you ignore her existence while she was cursing yours? 

One evening, you were making a nice, hearty meal because you and Sir Pentious had fallen victim to the early autumn allergy fueled cold. It was something your parents would've made whenever you were feeling under the weather — you were just glad the ingredients were in the house. 

Adam entered the kitchen without his mask and opened the fridge as you were opening the cabinet that was filled with bowls and plates. 

“Whatcha makin’, Hot Stuff?” Adam questioned, closing the fridge. 

You glanced at him confused before opting to reply, rather than questioning anything he called you. At least he wasn't calling you sinner scum. 

“Dinner.” You croaked in reply, using a pot holder to lift the lid off of the large pan where thinly sliced and seasoned steak was simmering in a homemade mushroom gravy. You then gestured to the pot of fluffy white rice next to the pan of cauliflower. (Again, it's one of my favorites — so delicious.)

“There's plenty for you and Lute to join us, if you'd like to.” You almost lost your voice by the end of the sentence, but the first man heard you. 

“Yeah, okay. . . It looks more edible than that shit in the freezer — whatever the fuck that is.”

You would've laughed if you knew you wouldn't have landed yourself in a coughing fit. So you settled for a smile as you plated up the food. 

“It looks disgusting.” Lute sneered from the doorway. 

Immediately, your smile dropped and your fork clattered onto the wooden table. “Then don't eat it.” You snapped, taking your seat as Sir Pentious slithered into the kitchen. 

“This shit looks good as fuck, Danger Tits.” Adam shoved a fork full of steak in his mouth and released a downright sinful moan. “You're missin’ out.”

Sir Pentious nodded in agreement, eating what was on his plate relatively quickly. You appreciated Adam and Pentious trying to make things better, even if Adam was using his own way to make it seem so. . .

But you were slowly losing your patience, which became evident by the way you verbally snapped.

Lute didn't speak to you — or rather speak down to you for a few days, but she lingered while Adam got to know you better. . . She seemed rather put off with how things were going. 

Like how when you couldn't reach something, completely uncomfortable with using your new wings, Adam would grab it without stopping whatever conversation was going on. 

Or when he'd offer to make dinner (or buy dinner for everyone) just so you could have a break. 

Or even now when you were draping your towel over a chair on the back deck, prior to your swim in the lake, and he happened to be out there in the sun. You heard him mention something about you being ‘hot as fuck’ in your swimsuit, but you mostly ignored him, aside from a light blush dusting your cheeks. 

From him, she learned your favorite color, your favorite animal, your favorite everything, basically. . . And when your eyes found Lute, she was glaring at Adam, not you, for once. 

Rather than questioning it, you accepted it and found your way into the lake where eventually, they both joined you at a distance. You felt oddly alone, since Sir Pentious had decided to stay in — he still wasn't feeling the best, so you urged him to rest, claiming you'd be fine. 

Lute seemed to be attempting to drown Adam and he took it in a playful way, yelling and laughing loudly while she splashed him and jumped on top of him — something that seemed out of character for her. 

Though they both soon went underwater and just as you decided you were ready to go in, you were pulled under and came face to face with Lute. Your eyes widened as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 

She wasn't glaring at you. . . There was no animosity behind her gaze, her hands locked onto your arms. She smirked after what felt like an eternity and pulled you back up to the surface with her. 

“Stay away from her, Adam.” Lute practically growled, holding you close. 

This was odd. It felt so wrong, but it felt so right having her arms wrapped around your waist. She hadn't touched you until then, so you weren't sure what to make of the situation.

“So you finally —”

“Shut up!”

Adam only smirked and shot out of the water, going to dry off on the deck. 

“I suppose we need to talk?” You questioned softly. 

Lute nodded and released her hold on you so that the two of you could reach the deck once more. 

You sat in the chair that Adam had previously occupied and she turned one to face you, taking a seat there. She stayed silent for a few minutes, watching you dry your hair and wrap your towel around your shoulders. 

Lute then took another moment to admire the way the late morning light caught on your face, before she spoke. 

“I was wrong about you. . . There's sinners who don't deserve good things and then there's you. . . I — you. . . You've proven yourself and. . . I'm sorry for how things have been since I showed up.”

You smiled at the apology, finally looking into her golden eyes. “You're forgiven. . . But if I might ask. . . Why did you hate me so much?” 

She became nervous, you could see it. 

“I thought you might be as bad as the regular sinners — I know what you did when you were alive and I know that's why you went to Hell. . . But these last few weeks showed me why you wound up here.” Something akin to adoration laced her tone and you blushed under her gaze. 

It was such a quick change. . . But it seemed like a good one. It seemed like common knowledge that she wasn't the greatest at expressing emotions, having been so deep in her work for the longest time.

Before you could open your mouth to reply, your heart bursted as a new sensation graced you — Lute's lips on yours. You felt your heartbeat quicken once again and your face heated up violently. 

She pulled away a moment later, stuttering out an apology. 

“I shouldn't have — hmph!” 

You immediately shut her up with another quick kiss before leaving a sweet peck on her cheek once you had removed your lips from hers. “I didn't mind. . . If this has the chance of becoming something, I want there to be communication. . . If you're okay with that. . ?”

“That's fine. . . [Y/N]?”

“Hmm?”

“We forgive you. . . I forgive you.”

You grinned and stood from your seat, reaching your hand out for Lute. “Wonderful. . . How about some lunch?” 

She snorted and shook her head, but still stood and took your hand, allowing you to guide her into the lake house for lunch. 

She sat beside you while everyone ate, shutting Adam down the moment he looked like he was going to open his mouth and say something stupid — which was often. 

You were happy and hopeful. Maybe this could grow into something beautiful. . . Maybe this could be your forever relationship. 

Just maybe. 

Additional A/N — if anyone wants the Fem!Redeemed!Sinner x Lute story to continue, requests are open! Give me ideas!

[callsigns-haze]

Baby Now?!

Pairing: Cassian x reader Warning: Contains explicit scenes of intimacy and strong language. SMUT Summary: In the passionate aftermath of Solstice celebrations, Cassian and Y/N's intimate connection deepens as they embrace the prospect of parenthood together.

A second part to Say something and will become part of A Warrior and a Navigator... BUT CAN BE READ ALONE

Cassian lay in bed, the soft glow of dawn filtering through the window of their shared chamber. His fingers traced lazy patterns through Y/N's hair as she slept soundly, her head nestled against his chest. The rise and fall of her breathing, the gentle warmth of her body against his, brought a sense of peace that he had not known in weeks.

It had been a tumultuous journey since he had woken from his coma, his wings nearly shattered from the fierce battle that had nearly claimed his life. But now, after weeks of painstaking healing, they were nearly whole again, each scar a testament to his resilience.

As he lay there, Cassian couldn't help but marvel at the woman beside him. Y/N had been his rock throughout his recovery, her unwavering support and love a constant source of strength. She had been by his side every step of the way, offering comfort when the pain was unbearable and encouragement when he felt like giving up.

With a soft sigh, Cassian pressed a kiss to the top of Y/N's head, his heart swelling with love for her. He couldn't imagine his life without her, couldn't fathom how he had ever lived without her before.

But even as he reveled in the peace of the moment, a part of him couldn't shake the lingering shadows of doubt and fear that still haunted him. The memories of battle, of loss and sacrifice, weighed heavy on his mind, a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked just beyond the safety of their sanctuary.

Yet, as he looked down at Y/N, her face serene in sleep, he knew that he would face whatever challenges lay ahead with her by his side. Together, they were unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with.

With a tender smile, Cassian brushed a strand of hair away from Y/N's face, his heart swelling with gratitude for the gift of her love. And as the first rays of sunlight bathed the room in a warm golden glow, he knew that no matter what the future held, as long as they were together, they could overcome anything.

Cassian's concentration broke as the familiar presence of Rhysand brushed against his mind, a gentle nudge in their shared mental bond. With a slight furrow of his brow, he responded, the connection effortlessly bridging the physical distance between them.

"We're still in bed," Cassian replied silently, his thoughts carrying across the bond with ease. "Y/N's asleep. I'll wake her up in a moment."

There was a brief pause, during which Cassian could almost sense Rhysand's amusement.

"Taking advantage of the rare moment of peace, I see," Rhysand teased lightly, his tone tinged with affectionate sarcasm.

Cassian chuckled inwardly, a soft rumble of amusement echoing in his mind.

"Just enjoying the quiet before the chaos of the day begins," Cassian replied, his fingers continuing to thread through Y/N's hair as he spoke. "We'll be down shortly."

He could sense Rhysand's understanding in the bond, a silent acknowledgment of the need for a moment of respite amidst the ongoing challenges they faced.

"Take your time," Rhysand responded, his voice warm with understanding. "We'll save you some breakfast."

With a mental nod of gratitude, Cassian severed the connection, returning his focus to the woman in his arms. As Y/N stirred slightly against him, a soft smile tugged at Cassian's lips. Despite the trials and tribulations that awaited them beyond the sanctuary of their chamber, he knew that as long as they faced them together, they could weather any storm.

Feeling Y/N stir against him, Cassian's heart swelled with warmth. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment to breathe in the scent of her hair. His lips trailed a path of gentle affection, leaving a trail of tender kisses along her temple and down to her cheek.

As Y/N began to awaken, her lashes fluttering against her skin, Cassian's lips found hers in a tender embrace. The kiss was soft and sweet, a silent reassurance of his love and devotion. He poured all of his emotions into that simple gesture, a silent promise to always be there for her, to protect her and cherish her for all eternity.

When they finally parted, Y/N's eyes met his, a sleepy smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her fingers reached up to brush against his cheek, a silent caress that spoke volumes of the love they shared.

"Good morning, my love," Cassian murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "I hope you slept well."

Y/N's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with affection as she snuggled closer against him.

"Every moment with you is a dream," she whispered, her words a soft melody that warmed Cassian's soul.

With a contented sigh, Cassian wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they savored the simple pleasure of being together. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth and love of their embrace, the outside world faded away, leaving only the two of them and the promise of a new day filled with endless possibilities.

Cassian chuckled softly, his breath warm against Y/N's cheek as he spoke. "I'm afraid we may have overslept," he admitted, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Rhysand reached out through the bond. They're waiting for us downstairs for breakfast."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly in surprise, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she realized they had lost track of time in each other's embrace. "Oh, I didn't realize it was so late," she murmured, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Cassian brushed a gentle kiss against her forehead, his fingers tangling affectionately in her hair. "It's alright," he reassured her, his tone warm and reassuring. "We can take our time getting ready. They'll understand."

With a soft sigh of contentment, Y/N nestled closer against him, her fingers tracing lazy circles against his chest. "I could stay like this forever," she confessed softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cassian's heart swelled with love at her words, a tender smile curving his lips. "As much as I would love that," he replied, his tone gentle, "we should probably get up before they send someone to check on us."

Y/N chuckled softly, a playful glint dancing in her eyes. "I suppose you're right," she conceded, pressing a lingering kiss against Cassian's lips before reluctantly untangling herself from his embrace.

As they rose from the bed and began to prepare for the day ahead, Cassian couldn't shake the feeling of gratitude that filled him. In Y/N's arms, he had found a love that was beyond measure, a love that filled his days with light and warmth. And as they made their way downstairs to join their friends for breakfast, he knew that no matter what challenges they faced, as long as they faced them together, they could overcome anything.

As Cassian and Y/N descended the stairs hand in hand, they were greeted by the warm embrace of their friends gathered in the grand hall. Azriel, ever silent and stoic, offered them a nod of acknowledgment, his eyes twinkling with hidden mirth as he observed the couple's disheveled appearance.

Feyre, radiant as ever, greeted them with a bright smile, her eyes alight with warmth and affection. "Good morning, you two," she said cheerfully, her voice carrying the promise of a day filled with celebration and joy.

Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, stood at the head of the table, his regal presence commanding the attention of all who gathered. "You're just in time," he said with a grin, gesturing for them to take their seats. "We were starting to wonder if we'd have to send out a search party."

Mor, the vivacious and fearless cousin of the High Lord, winked playfully at Cassian and Y/N as they approached. "I hope you two weren't up to anything too scandalous," she teased, her laughter ringing through the hall.

Amren, the enigmatic and otherworldly member of their group, regarded them with a curious tilt of her head. "You seem rather... disheveled," she observed dryly, a hint of amusement coloring her words.

Cassian chuckled good-naturedly, exchanging a knowing glance with Y/N. "Just enjoying a quiet morning together," he replied with a grin, his gaze lingering affectionately on his beloved.

As they took their seats at the table, the air was filled with the anticipation of the coming Solstice celebrations. Around them, laughter and conversation flowed freely, the bonds of friendship and love that bound them all together stronger than ever.

And as they shared a meal in the company of those they held most dear, Cassian couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over him. In this moment, surrounded by love and laughter, he knew that there was nowhere else he would rather be.

As breakfast came to an end on Solstice morning, a mischievous gleam lit up the eyes of Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand. It was a tradition that had been upheld for years – a playful snowball fight in the crisp winter air, a chance for the brothers-in-arms to embrace the childlike joy of the season.

Excusing themselves with barely-contained excitement, the trio slipped away from the table, leaving Feyre with a puzzled expression and Mor and Y/N exchanging knowing glances.

"What do you think they're up to?" Feyre asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice as she watched the three men make their way towards the door.

Mor grinned, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Oh, you'll see," she replied cryptically, her lips quirking into a smirk.

Y/N laughed softly, her gaze following the retreating figures of Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand. "Let's just say, it's a Solstice tradition," she explained, a fond smile playing at the corners of her lips.

As the three friends made their way out into the snow-covered landscape, the air filled with the sound of laughter and the echoing of snowballs being thrown. For a brief moment, they were transported back to simpler times, when their only care was the next snowball to dodge or the next target to hit.

And as they laughed and played amidst the falling snow, the bonds of brotherhood that bound them together grew stronger than ever, a testament to the enduring power of friendship and the joy of the season.

---

As the snow continued to fall gently outside, Y/N and Mor exchanged a knowing glance, a shared smirk dancing across their lips. With a conspiratorial wink, they both nodded towards Feyre, their eyes alight with mischief.

"Feyre," Y/N said, her voice filled with excitement, "we have a little surprise for you."

Feyre raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in her gaze as she watched her friends with interest. "Oh? What kind of surprise?" she asked, her tone laced with intrigue.

Mor's grin widened as she took Feyre's hand, leading her towards the door. "You'll see," she replied cryptically, her voice tinged with excitement. "It's a Solstice tradition."

With a flicker of power, they vanished from the room, reappearing in a flurry of snowflakes outside the cabin. Feyre blinked in surprise as she took in her surroundings, her eyes widening at the sight before her.

On the snowy hillside, Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand were engaged in a fierce snowball fight, their laughter ringing out through the crisp winter air. Despite their age and power, they moved with the grace and agility of young warriors, their faces alight with joy as they embraced the simple pleasure of the moment.

Feyre couldn't help but laugh as she watched the three Illyrians play like children, her heart swelling with affection for the men she loved as she joined Y/N and Mor on the porch.

"They never change, do they?" Feyre remarked, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Y/N shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her. "No, they don't," she agreed, her gaze warm with affection. "But that's what makes them so endearing."

Mor nodded in agreement, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "While the boys are busy with their snowball fight, how about we go inside and warm up with some drinks?" she suggested, a playful glint in her eye.

Feyre grinned, nodding eagerly as she followed her friends into the cozy warmth of the cabin. As they settled by the fire with mugs of steaming hot chocolate, Feyre couldn't help but feel grateful for the bonds of friendship that surrounded her, and the simple joys of the season that brought them together.

As the laughter from outside began to die down, Y/N and Mor exchanged a knowing glance, their lips quirking into mischievous smiles. With a shared nod, they turned their attention back to Feyre, who looked at them expectantly.

"So, what's next in the Solstice tradition?" Feyre asked, her curiosity piqued.

Y/N and Mor shared a secretive grin before Y/N leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, after the snowball fight, the boys have another tradition," she explained, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Mor nodded in agreement, her gaze dancing with amusement. "They head into the sauna to warm up," she added, her tone playful.

Feyre's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a blush creeping into her cheeks. "Oh," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N and Mor burst into laughter at Feyre's reaction, their mirth filling the cabin with warmth. "Don't worry," Y/N reassured her between giggles, "it's nothing scandalous. They just like to relax and unwind after their snowball fight."

Mor nodded in agreement, her laughter subsiding into a fond smile. "Besides," she added with a playful wink, "it's not like we haven't seen it before."

Feyre's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red at Mor's teasing remark, but she couldn't help but laugh along with her friends. Despite the embarrassment, there was a sense of camaraderie and friendship that filled her heart, a reminder of the deep bond that they shared.

As they settled back into the warmth of the cabin, Feyre couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and laughter of her friends, and the joyous traditions that brought them together on this special day. And as the sounds of the boys' laughter echoed through the snowy landscape outside, she knew that there was nowhere else she would rather be than surrounded by the warmth and love of those she held most dear.

-----

As the evening after the Solstice celebration unfolded, the air was still charged with the lingering magic of the festivities. Y/N and Cassian made their way back to their chamber, their steps filled with a quiet intensity, the anticipation of the night ahead palpable between them.

As they reached the door, Cassian's demeanor shifted suddenly, his gaze darkening with desire as he pinned Y/N against the sturdy wood. With a swift, decisive movement, he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was both fierce and consuming.

Y/N gasped in surprise at the suddenness of his actions, but any protest was quickly swallowed by the heat of his kiss. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she responded with equal fervor, her heart pounding in her chest with a heady rush of desire.

Their bodies pressed together, every touch igniting a fire that burned hot and bright between them. Cassian's hands roamed eagerly over Y/N's curves, his touch leaving a trail of searing heat in its wake as he explored every inch of her with a hunger that matched her own.

In that moment, there was no past, no future – only the fierce intensity of their desire, the raw passion that consumed them both. And as they surrendered to the pleasure of each other's touch, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them in a whirlwind of sensation and longing.

Wrapped in each other's embrace, they lost themselves in the heat of the moment, their bodies moving together in a dance as old as time itself. And as they finally stumbled into their chamber, the air thick with the scent of desire, they knew that this night would be one they would never forget, a celebration of love and passion that would burn bright long after the Solstice fires had faded.

With a low growl of desire, Cassian urged Y/N to jump, his arms ready to catch her as she wrapped herself around his hips. With practiced ease, he swiftly opened the door, the cool air of their chamber rushing to meet them. Their lips remained locked in a passionate embrace as they stumbled inside, the world outside forgotten in the intensity of their desire.

Closing the door behind them with a firm push, Cassian wasted no time in carrying Y/N towards the bed, their lips still fused together in a feverish kiss. With a deft movement, he lowered her onto the soft mattress, his hands roaming hungrily over her body as he claimed her with a primal hunger.

Y/N moaned softly against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, her body arching beneath his touch. The heat between them intensified with every kiss, every caress, until they were both consumed by the flames of their passion.

As they surrendered to the pleasure of each other's touch, the room filled with the sounds of their shared desire, a symphony of moans and whispers that echoed through the night. And as they moved together in a dance as old as time itself, they knew that in each other's arms, they had found a love that burned brighter than any flame, a love that would endure for eternity.

With a hunger that could not be quenched, Cassian's hands eagerly sought out the fabric that separated him from Y/N's bare skin. With each piece of clothing he discarded, he uttered words of admiration and desire, his voice husky with longing.

As he peeled away the layers, his fingers traced the curves of her body, his touch igniting a fire that blazed hotter with each passing moment. With each garment that fell away, he marveled at the beauty before him, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her exposed form.

"You're stunning," he murmured, his voice filled with reverence as he gazed upon her with awe. "More beautiful than I could ever put into words."

His words were like music to Y/N's ears, her heart swelling with love and desire at the adoration in his eyes. With trembling hands, she reached out to him, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscled chest as she pulled him closer, their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace.

In that moment, there were no words that could adequately express the depth of their desire, no gestures that could capture the intensity of their love. There was only the raw, primal connection between them, a bond that transcended time and space.

And as they surrendered to the passion that consumed them, their bodies moving together in a dance as old as time itself, they knew that in each other's arms, they had found a love that was truly eternal.

As Cassian's hands caressed her skin and his lips sought hers with a fervent hunger, Y/N's breath caught in her throat. In the midst of their passionate embrace, she found herself overcome with a longing that went beyond mere desire—a longing for something more, something that would bind them together in a way that nothing else could.

With a soft whimper, she pressed her lips against his ear, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke the words that had been weighing on her heart for so long. "Cassian," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, "it's time. I want to have a baby with you."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of their shared dreams and desires. Y/N's heart raced with anticipation as she awaited Cassian's response, her fingers clutching desperately at his shoulders as she searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

But there was none to be found. In that moment, Cassian's gaze softened with an overwhelming tenderness, his heart swelling with love for the woman who stood before him. Without a word, he gathered her into his arms, holding her close as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

"I've wanted this for so long," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "With you, Y/N, I want everything."

As Cassian shed his clothing with an urgency fueled by desire, Y/N's heart raced in anticipation of the intimate moment they were about to share. With each piece of fabric that fell away, the air crackled with electricity, the anticipation building with every passing second.

With a hungry glint in his eyes, Cassian closed the distance between them, his hands trailing over Y/N's trembling form as he pressed her gently back against the bed. With a low growl of desire, he claimed her lips in a searing kiss, his touch igniting a fire that burned hot and bright between them.

And then, with a whispered promise of love and devotion, he entered her, his length stretching her in a way that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Y/N gasped in surprise at the sensation, her fingers digging into Cassian's shoulders as she arched beneath him, her senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of their connection.

As Cassian's movements became more urgent, more intense, Y/N's cries of pleasure echoed through the room, her voice ringing out with a raw, primal need that seemed to fill the very air around them. "Cassian!" she cried out, her voice a desperate plea for more.

Cassian's lips curved into a teasing smile as he continued to move within her, his touch driving her to the brink of ecstasy. "Louder, my love," he teased, his voice husky with desire. "I want the whole castle to hear you."

Y/N's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at his playful taunt, but she couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through her at the thought of being heard. With a breathless laugh, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer as she surrendered herself completely to the intoxicating pleasure of their shared desire.

In that moment, as they moved together in a dance as old as time itself, Y/N knew that there was nowhere else she would rather be than in the arms of the man she loved, surrendering herself completely to the intoxicating pleasure of their shared desire. And as their passion reached its crescendo, the world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them lost in the rapture of their love.

As their passion reached its zenith, Y/N felt an overwhelming surge of ecstasy wash over her, her senses consumed by the intensity of their connection. With each thrust, each caress, she felt herself spiraling higher and higher towards the peak of pleasure, her body trembling with the sheer intensity of their desire.

"Cassian!" she cried out, her voice echoing through the chamber with a raw, primal need that seemed to reverberate off the walls. In that moment, she felt as though every fiber of her being was alight with the flames of their shared passion, her world narrowing down to the man who held her in his arms.

But as her cries rang out into the night, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging sense of awareness that settled over her—a sense that they were not alone, that their intimate moment was being witnessed by more than just the two of them.

And then, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she realized the truth. Everyone could hear her. Every member of the court, every servant, every guard—everyone knew what was happening behind closed doors.

The realization sent a flush of embarrassment rushing to her cheeks, but even as she blushed with shame, she couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through her at the thought of being heard. It was reckless, it was daring, but in that moment, it was also undeniably exhilarating.

As Cassian's movements grew more urgent, more intense, Y/N surrendered herself completely to the intoxicating pleasure of their shared desire, her cries of ecstasy ringing out into the night with a fervour that seemed to set the very air around them ablaze.

And in that moment, as they reached the peak of their passion together, Y/N knew that there was nowhere else she would rather be than in the arms of the man she loved, surrendering herself completely to the intoxicating pleasure of their shared desire, consequences be damned.

As the intensity of their passion began to ebb, Cassian gently guided Y/N into the curve of his strong, protective embrace. With a tender touch, he brushed away the stray strands of hair that clung to her damp forehead, his lips trailing soft kisses along her temple as he held her close.

"Did you enjoy yourself, my love?" he teased, his voice husky with lingering desire as he pressed his lips against her ear.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh softly at his playful tone, her heart swelling with love for the man who held her in his arms. "You know I did," she replied, her voice tinged with affection as she nuzzled closer against him.

Cassian chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her skin as he held her tight. "You were quite vocal," he teased, his lips curling into a mischievous smile.

Y/N's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the reminder of her earlier outburst, but even as she blushed, she couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. "I couldn't help it," she admitted sheepishly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You just... you make me feel things I never knew were possible."

Cassian's smile softened at her words, his heart swelling with love for the woman who lay nestled against him. "And you make me feel the same way," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

In that moment, as they lay together in the quiet aftermath of their passion, surrounded by the warmth and love of their shared embrace, Y/N knew that there was nowhere else she would rather be than in the arms of the man she loved.

Cassian's playful tone shifted, his voice lowering to a husky whisper as he spoke. "You better get used to this, my love," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "Because I don't plan on leaving this bedroom until I've filled you with my little Illyrian baby."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, a surge of desire coursing through her veins at the thought of carrying his child. She pressed herself closer against him, her heart pounding with anticipation as she whispered back, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

With a tender kiss, Cassian sealed their pact, his arms wrapping protectively around her as they settled into the warmth of their shared embrace. In that moment, as they basked in the afterglow of their passion, they knew that their love was not just a fleeting flame, but a bond that would endure for eternity—a bond that would be strengthened by the new life they would create together. And as they drifted off to sleep, their hearts beating as one, they embraced the promise of the future that lay ahead, filled with endless possibilities and boundless love.

-----

Bonus scene

As the intimate moment between Cassian and Y/N unfolded, a familiar presence brushed against Cassian's mind, a teasing voice echoing through their shared mental bond.

"Well, well, well," Rhysand's voice resonated in Cassian's thoughts, filled with amusement and playful banter. "I always thought Feyre and I were bad, but it seems like you and Y/N are giving us a run for our money. You two are like a pair of wild animals."

Cassian couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at Rhysand's teasing, his lips curling into a smirk as he replied silently through the bond. "What can I say, Rhys? When you find someone who sets your soul on fire, you can't help but let the passion take over."

The mental exchange was filled with camaraderie and brotherly jest, a testament to the strong bond that existed between the two warriors. And as Cassian and Y/N continued to revel in the warmth and love of their shared embrace, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would always have each other—and the unwavering support of their friends by their side.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@kmc1989

@hardballoonlove

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@marvel-molly

@lucky7rosie

[threepandas]

Bad End: Witness

"Specimen '873 is starting to disappoint me. He was showing such promise. These numbers, however?" My keeper muttered to himself, distaste painting his face as he watched the feed in front of him. "Unacceptable for a battle class. He might as well be spare biomass at this point."

He was supposed to be wearing his glasses, not holding them. They may have been called "reading" glasses? But they were not, technically, just for that. They also had a blue light filter. Helped with headaches and eyestrain. He just hated wearing them because he thought they made him look old.

A God Forbid ANYTHING remind him of the passage of time.

He did NOT take it kindly.

I managed to avoid THAT landmine by virtue of having witnessed his receiving them. An "incident" that resulted in his head slamming against a screen. Protocol demanded he get checked. In the process, they discovered his eye sight was declining. It was a... bad day. I brought him things to break and stayed very, very quiet.

He bounced back fairly quickly, though. Once the arrogant researcher who had arranged for the incident to even OCCUR? Tried to come lord his "weakened old man" status over him. It was one thing to "accidently" let the battle class get unfettered access to weapons before loyalty train. But to be dumb enough to step into his lab, call him weak, and gloat about it?

Dr. Raghnall Periculum was many things.

But "unwilling to bludgeon a man to death with the nearest object" was not one of them.

He was dangerous like that. Murderous. It came and went like shifting storms, all you could really do was learn to read the triggers. Get good at knowing when to back up. When to hold really, REALLY still. After all... this was a lawless, immoral place. No one here could or WOULD stop him.

They were all just as bad.

Gritty Sci-Fi Otome games are... a lot less fun to LIVE. To be honest? They are actually pretty horrifying. Traumatizing, really. Hellish. As in, I am pretty sure this is a futuristic version Of Hell (but that is a personal opinion). I regret EVER playing a single damn one. But... BUT? I CLING to the knowledge I gained from it. So I can not regret it completely. Because through them? Through KNOWING this world?

I KNOW this will end. KNOW we will be free. That these monsters will pay for what they've done. The epilog promises a golden age. A beautiful, peaceful dawn after this long and terrible night, filled with horrors. I just... I just have to survive. Hold on. Keep my head down and pray.

I may be trapped in hell, but I'm not broken.

We will be Free.

I have SEEN IT.

Sometimes the greatest defiance is just refusing to die. Just keeping hope alive. I... I can do that. May not be able to fight my way out. Not smart enough to hack or sabotage these nightmares. But I can stay alive. I... I can do that. Bear witness, that someday I may stand against them in trial. Record. So no one is forgotten.

It doesn't feel like enough. I feel tired and angry. Hateful and small. But for the sake of my sanity? I make myself feel nothing. Compartmentalize. I've... I've become unfortunately quite good at it. Good at a lot of terrible things. Like placating. Making myself small. Being invisible. A retail smile. Being one with the furniture.

See, just like the poor souls on the screens in front of him? I'm a Clone. Of who? I have no idea. None of us do. They use old DNA databases. From when it was first commercially available, I think. Like those ancestry tests. Here it was squirrelled away, kept for later use. Which... was us.

My template has been dead for centuries, I think. Or perhaps? She would have considered herself my mother? I hope she would have, strange as I turned out to be. We are all children of the dead. It'd be nice to think they'd have wanted us.

Dr. Periculum's cup lifts lightly as he take a drink, more focused on his work then anything else. That heft is about midway point. I've discovered if I begin brewing now, it will be done by the time his cup is empty and he wants more. A glance at the closest screen gives me the time. Food too, is a good idea.

He likely won't eat it. But if it's there? The chances are higher. And when he comes out of his focus, it'll be available. Less chance of him getting irritated by hunger.

On a well practiced route through piles of notes and projects I know better then to touch, I quietly make my way to the coffee machine. Begin another round of abomination the caffeine tar. It is, quite honestly, a wonder he hasn't accused me of trying to poison him to a heart attack.

A few granules of salt, a bit of cinnamon, some expensive fatty creamer, aaaand? There. Unholy bitterness gone. "Just" a cup of liquid tar so potent it could make a rhino taste time.

I also grab one of the meat pies and put it on a little paper plate.

Ah... what has my life become? That I am so well practiced in make snacks for a monster? Picking them up, I don't dare answer that. That way lies madness. Don't think about it. It can wash out in therapy. After. Because there WILL be an After. There HAS to be an After.

Careful steps and...? Just as I estimated. He just ran out. I nearly silently tap the paper plate down to the edge of the table then slide it forward, with-in ease of reach, but not too close. Then I swap the cups. Go to step away. Only to freeze. As, out of the corner of my eye, I see one of his hands briefly leave his keyboard to make a nearly dismissive "one moment" gesture.

Stay put. Don't move. I'll address you when I'm done with my, more important, thoughts. I feel the flash of fear, of panic, but let it go. There is nothing I can do. I will be hurt or I won't be hurt. There is no use suffering twice, through speculation and fear, I remind myself. Force my mind empty and pleasant. Retail smile. Happy to serve.

He finishes. Leans back, dissatisfied with some project or other, and finally slips on his glasses. Gestures imperiously for the cup in my hands. I do not question of course, merely hand it to him. He takes it, passes it to his other hand, and sets it aside. Then, casually, leans slightly over and wraps a thickly muscled arm around my waist. Dragging me off my feet and into his lap.

"You know, girl? B-21873 really was, actually quite promising. I was starting to think I'd keep him. Decent speed, good stamina, excellent problem solving. His test scoring was exceeding all expectations. Really thought I might have gotten you a little friend to play with. A gaurd so I could send you out on some chores safely. But no, he just HAD to be a failure." He said, leaning forward to grab his cup.

I was crushed awkwardly close. Could feel every moment. Acutely aware of his woody and sea air cologne, the coffee on his breath as words were spoken far to close, the beating of a heartbeat I could feel against my arm. Hyper aware of him. Why was I in his lap? This felt dangerous. I should not be in his lap.

Between sips, he turned his head and pressed his lips to my temple, not kissing... somehow worse. Just... just breathing me in. Slow, deliberate, and deep. Like savoring a scent, a sensation. The subtle back and forth, as though rubbing his lips against my hair. Enjoying the feeling against sensitive skin. It could almost be a cuddle on any other man. It took everything I had not to shudder.

"Unlike you of course. You pet, could never disappoint me. If these rejects tried even half as hard as my perfect darling girl? The world'd be a better place." He paused his almost nuzzling. To simply rest his head against mine, pulling off his glasses so he could tuck his head closer. His breathe was hot against my ear. His voice gravel and distain as it spoke of others.

"It's disgusting. Like they don't even try. We spend countless resources breeding, feeding, and training them... for what? Failure? I'm starting to think those bastards are deliberately sending me bad specimens."

Every word he said was horrifying. I could not cry. Dare not. But my heart screamed for those poor souls. They were just kids. Trapped in hell. Tortured from birth. Disposed of when they no longer met some arbitrarily impossible anime standard. If I turned my head, even slightly, I KNEW, I would be faced with screens of untold suffering. Feeds of "testing". So called training. Autopsy reports and datapoints.

Lists of who... who had been deemed "not good enough".

Who were scheduled to become "recycled biomass".

But if I looked? I would weep for them. And that? That was dangerous right now. Right NOW? I had to be pleasant company. A child's doll to be dragged around. No thoughts, no differing opinions. Preferably no opinions at ALL. Just warm and huggable. Soft. A beloved pet who serves coffee and brings things when told. Endure. I just... I must simply ENDURE.

The night will end. Dawn will come. Believe in her.

J-Just empty your head... and Believe In Her.

An alert pops up. I can hear it on a screen somewhere behind me. Dr. Periculum turns his head to look, reaching for his snack. Freezes. Then, a sharp bark of laughter. It's violent, like the strike of a lightning bolt, jostling me. The ones that follow just as harsh. He's not a man that laughs often. And it's not a kind sound.

Filled with schadenfreude, his laughter is like the vicious barks of hunting hounds. The shots of a weapon. A short and harsh to the ears sound, over and over. Delight in the suffering of an enemy. The fall of a rival. It strikes through his body like seizures. Making him lean forward to read. Brace against the desk, tighten his grip around me, widen the brace of his legs.

Glancing up, his eyes are alight with manic glee. His grin is vicious.

He looks Feral.

"Well, well, WELL! What do we have HERE?! Is that Jack ANDERSON'S facility I see? Mr. 'Master of the genome' himself? Looks like SOMEONE got AHEAD of themselves! Ha!" Raghnall cackles spinning his chair so I can see the screen. Leaning back to grab his cup and toast with it. "Look what we have here, pet! Some fucking KARMA! I knew that little shit wasn't worth the paper his degree was printed on! See this? THIS is what happens when you can't control your own damn compound!"

"Rest in PIECES, you worthless little SHIT!"

I sat. Frozen. As Dr. Periculum laughed and laughed, his mood viciously pleased. Because... because I recognized that facility. Chapter Two. There was an animation that played. The... the BREAKOUT! Joy filled me. Like the first rays of dawn. That was HER. S-she was OUT! Free! She DID it! Oh god... oh god she was COMING! It had finally BEGUN!

I caught myself. Barely.

My eyes felt a bit wet so I disguised it with a fake yawn. I dare not show empathy. NEVER show empathy. Keep it guarded like diamonds in your chest. If he thought, for even a moment, that I empathized with anyone but him. CARED about anyone but him? They wouldn't last the hour.

And it would be the longest, cruelest, hour in existence, as they died.

You make that sort of mistake exactly ONCE.

"Ah~ todays a GOOD day. And you know what we should do?" He hummed, nearly a coo as he spun us almost lazily around on his chair. In whimsical circles like a bored child. "We should celebrate. Ding dong, the fuckers dead~ HA HA! Not to mention? It's been entirely too long, pet, since I've spoiled you rotten. We should get a cake, hmm? You want a cake? Lil treat? Sweet lil treat for my girl?"

"I could get you that new dress I've been looking at. Bet you'll look like a classy lil princess, won't that be nice? Can even make it match the trackers I'm finishing up! No more uncomfy collars when we go out! Just pretty lil bracelets, ain't that nice?"

I force myself to smile. Nod. Ignore the fear and anger, the humiliation and helplessness. It's not time yet. Bid your time. You will LOSE your chance for True Freedom if you give in to your anger. Your hurt. Patience, THEN strike. Remember! Chapter two! There are FIVE.

It is COMING.

He stopped spinning, planting his feet on the floor. His manic grin softening. No less unhinged, less full of teeth, but perhaps the closest a man like him could come to loving. His eyes obsessive as the roam my face. Cataloging everything.

"You know, pet? You really might be might greatest creation. Best thing I've ever made or done. Anyone wants you? They'd have to pry you from my cold, dead hands. I'd burn EVERYTHING down. Kill just about EVERYONE." His voice was the sort of whispered confession meant for churches, not the heart of this hell he had built. It felt unholy. Dangerous.

Exactly like him.

"Once I figure how to take humanity to it's next stage? Reverse aging? Heck, even stop it. I promise, pet. Gonna take you with me. You're coming along for the ride. Straight to the end. Heat death of the universe. Well become GODS, pet. Live forever and a day. Bet you can't wait, huh?"

"Don't worry. The futures going be BEAUTIFUL. Just you wait."

[keehomania]

heartbeat (심장박동) — jung hoseok (정호석)

✧.* 18+

the dawn broke with a gentle caress across the landscape, casting a golden hue over the rolling hills and lush valleys. the sun, a celestial artist, painted the sky in strokes of pink and orange, reflecting its light upon the dew-kissed leaves of ancient trees. the air was crisp, carrying the scent of blooming cherry blossoms that danced in the soft breeze, their delicate petals fluttering like whispers of spring’s embrace. birds sang a symphony of melodies, their harmonious notes merging with the rustling of leaves, creating an orchestra of natural beauty that celebrated the beginning of a new day.

yet, this serene tableau of nature stood in stark contrast to the scene of devastation that unfolded in its wake. the earth had groaned and heaved, unleashing its wrath upon the serene landscape. an earthquake, a violent tremor of nature’s own making, had shattered the tranquility. the ground had buckled and cracked, splitting roads into jagged scars and toppling buildings that once stood as symbols of human achievement. streets were strewn with debris—broken glass, twisted metal, and splintered wood—forming a chaotic mosaic of destruction. the once-proud skyline was now marred by the skeletal remains of what had been homes and businesses. in the aftermath, smoke and dust hung in the air like a mournful shroud, obscuring the sun’s light and turning the beautiful morning into a somber canvas of ruin.

you had graduated from medical school that day. it was meant to be a day of celebration, a milestone achieved after years of relentless study and sacrifice. the ceremony had been a blur of proud smiles, academic robes, and congratulatory embraces. but the elation of that moment was short-lived, overshadowed by the impending catastrophe. you had planned to share the joy with your sister, who had been your pillar of strength through the trials and tribulations of medical school. she was your everything—the constant in your life, the one who had stood by you with unwavering support.

as you made your way home, your heart swelled with excitement at the thought of celebrating your achievement together. but when you arrived, the sight that greeted you was one of utter devastation. your home, once a haven of comfort and warmth, was now reduced to a heap of rubble. the realization struck you like a physical blow. there was no home. there was no sister. the world, which had seemed so vibrant and full of promise, was now an unrecognizable wasteland.

desperation drove you to search through the debris, your hands tearing through the wreckage with frantic determination. hours felt like an eternity as you sifted through the shattered remnants of your life. and then, amidst the ruins, you found her. she lay among the debris, her face pale and her breaths shallow. she was barely alive, her fragile form a haunting reminder of the day’s cruel turn of events. you rushed her to the nearest hospital, a frantic and disheveled figure, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon you. the hospital, too, bore the scars of the earthquake. the once orderly hallways were now chaotic, filled with the injured and the desperate. nurses and doctors moved with frantic efficiency, their faces marked by exhaustion and determination. you clung to the hope that she would recover, that the skilled hands of the medical professionals could restore her to health.

days passed in a haze of worry and sleepless nights. you watched and waited, your heartache mingling with hope. and then, the blow came. you were informed that your sister had passed away. the news struck you like a dagger, but the explanation that followed shattered you further. she had not died from her wounds or the effects of the earthquake but from a medical error. The very system you had dedicated your life to had failed her.

the gravity of the situation was almost too much to bear. the room seemed to close in on you, the walls pressing in as the weight of your grief and anger grew heavier. you felt a profound sense of betrayal, the very institution meant to save lives had failed you and your sister. it was a cruel irony, the culmination of your dream to be the best doctor, only to be faced with the harsh reality of its imperfections. in the midst of your overwhelming sorrow, a fire ignited within you—a resolve born of pain and loss. you vowed to honor your sister’s memory by dedicating yourself to medicine with an unyielding commitment to prevent such errors. it was a promise made in the darkest of times, a beacon of hope amidst the wreckage of your dreams.

the operating room was a sanctuary of focused intensity. the sterile, clinical environment buzzed with a sense of urgency as doctor jung hoseok, one of the best surgeons in the hospital, prepared for yet another high-stakes surgery. the cacophony of beeping monitors, the rhythmic whoosh of ventilators, and the murmur of medical staff created a symphony of controlled chaos.

you stood by hoseok’s side, your heart racing with a mixture of anxiety and determination. your hands were steady but your mind was a whirlwind, knowing the weight of responsibility that rested on everyone’s shoulders. the patient on the table, a young man in his early twenties, had sustained severe internal injuries from a collapsing building. Hoseok’s calm, authoritative presence was a beacon of reassurance amidst the turmoil.

“scalpel,” his voice cut through the tension, his tone clipped and precise. you handed him the instrument with practiced ease, watching as his skilled fingers moved with a deftness born of years of experience.

the surgery was a dance of precision and skill. he navigated through the intricate web of damaged organs with an expertise that left you in awe. his movements were a blend of grace and efficiency, every incision, every stitch, a testament to his dedication and mastery.

“clamps,” he called out, his gaze never leaving the patient. you quickly provided the tools, your own focus unwavering despite the mounting exhaustion. the room was hot, the smell of antiseptic mingling with the acrid tang of blood. as the surgery reached its climax, his expression remained a mask of concentration. the minutes stretched into hours as he worked tirelessly to stabilize the patient. you wiped sweat from your brow, your heart pounding as you held your breath, praying for a successful outcome.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, hoseok lifted his gaze, a weary but triumphant smile playing at the corners of his lips. “we did it,” he said, his voice carrying a note of relief. the patient’s vital signs stabilized, a small but significant victory amidst the overwhelming despair of the day.

but the triumph was short-lived. as you and hoseok stepped out of the operating room, you were greeted by the grim reality of the hospital’s waiting area. the scene was chaotic, filled with an overwhelming number of patients, their faces etched with pain and fear. the earthquake’s aftermath had left a trail of devastation, and the hospital was a crucible of suffering. you let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. hoseok placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “we need to work as efficiently as we can,” he said, his tone steady and encouraging. “every moment counts.”

nodding, you moved swiftly through the maze of makeshift beds and emergency stations. the injured and the ill were everywhere—some lying on stretchers, others sitting in the narrow aisles, waiting for care. the sight was heart-wrenching, and you fought to keep your composure.

then, you spotted her—a young girl, no more than eight or nine, her face streaked with tears. she was clinging desperately to her coat, her small frame shaking with sobs. her wide, frightened eyes and the way she clutched at her coat stirred a profound sense of deja vu within you. she reminded you so much of your sister, and the resemblance was almost unbearable. you approached her gently, crouching down to her level. “hey, sweetheart,” you said softly, trying to mask the lump in your throat. “what’s your name?”

“jiwoo,” she sniffled, her voice trembling. “i want my mommy.” your heart ached as you lifted her into your arms, her tiny body trembling against you. “it’s gonna be okay,” you murmured, holding her close. “we’re gonna find your mommy, alright?” her cries were muffled against your coat as you walked with her through the bustling corridors. the sights and sounds of the injured—wounded soldiers, distressed families, and patients in various states of trauma—flashed by in a blur. each face you passed seemed to tell a story of suffering and hope, and the intensity of the scene made your stomach churn.

you guided jiwoo to the examination room, where a nurse greeted you with a warm but tired smile. “thank you,” you said, your voice filled with gratitude. “please, take good care of her.” the nurse nodded, taking her into her care, and you watched as the little girl’s gaze followed you with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. as you turned to leave, you felt a deep pang of sorrow and a renewed sense of purpose. each patient you saw, each story of survival and pain, was a reminder of why you had chosen this path.

the chaos of the hospital continued unabated as the hours dragged on, each moment marked by the relentless tide of patients streaming in from the aftermath of the earthquake. the corridors were a cacophony of urgent voices, desperate cries, and the clatter of medical equipment. hoseok moved among the chaos with a calm determination, his eyes scanning the scene with a mixture of resolve and weariness.

he paused briefly, his gaze taking in the grim reality of the situation. “we need to help everyone,” he said, his voice tinged with a fierce, unwavering conviction. “i want to, no, i need to help everyone.” his words were not just a declaration but a deep-seated promise that seemed to radiate from his very core. you understood the gravity of his statement all too well. the hospital, with its limited space and resources, was barely able to keep up with the flood of casualties. but his commitment was palpable, a beacon of hope amidst the stark limitations of the facilities. his eyes, usually so bright and cheerful, were now shadowed with a mixture of exhaustion and unyielding resolve.

“i promise you,” you said, matching his fervor with your own. “we will find a way to help as many people as we can.” your words were a pledge, born of the same fierce determination that drove him. his tired eyes softened with gratitude as he offered you a fleeting smile. “thank you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of warmth despite the fatigue that marked his features.

the moment of camaraderie was abruptly shattered by the anguished screams of a man. your head snapped towards the sound, your heart racing. a middle-aged man was crawling on the floor, his leg grotesquely open and bleeding profusely. his face was contorted with pain, and his cries cut through the din of the hospital like a knife. without a second thought, you and hoseok sprang into action. he barked orders with a commanding authority that drew the attention of nearby staff, and you quickly moved to assist. together, you helped load the man onto a stretcher, your hands working with a practiced urgency.

as the stretcher was wheeled away, you couldn't help but be struck by the sight. the man’s injury, so raw and brutal, mirrored the vision of your sister in the hospital’s aftermath. it was a harsh reminder of the fragility of life and the brutal reality of trauma. the sight made your knees buckle, a wave of nausea and grief crashing over you. before you could fully react, hoseok’s firm grip was on your arms. his touch was grounding, a lifeline amidst the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. “pull yourself together,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “everything will be fine. we’re here to help.”

his words were a balm to your frayed nerves, and you blinked away the tears that had begun to well up in your eyes. you took a deep breath, drawing strength from his presence and the urgency of the situation. “i’m okay,” you said, nodding with determination. “i’ll be okay.”

his gaze remained fixed on you for a moment longer, his expression a blend of concern and encouragement. then, with a decisive nod, he turned back to the chaos of the hospital, his focus unshaken. you followed him, your resolve steeled. the sight of the injured and the suffering no longer overwhelmed you but fueled your determination. each patient, each cry for help, was a call to action—a reminder of why you had chosen this path and why you would continue to fight against the odds.

the hospital’s corridors were a maze of urgent activity, and you moved through them with a focused intensity, guided by the steady presence of hoseok. the once immaculate walls were now splattered with the harsh realities of an earthquake’s aftermath, the floors slick with spilled fluids and the air thick with the acrid scent of antiseptic and exhaustion.

the first patient you approached was an elderly woman with a fractured arm and a deep gash on her forehead. her eyes, though tired and pained, reflected a resilience that touched you deeply. you carefully cleaned her wounds, speaking in soothing tones as you worked. “you’re going to be okay,” you assured her, your voice gentle. “we’re going to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of.”

hoseok stood nearby, his eyes attentive as he watched you work. he occasionally offered guidance, his voice calm and authoritative. “apply a sterile dressing over the wound,” he instructed, his tone carrying the weight of his expertise. “we need to monitor her for signs of infection.”

as you followed his directions, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze softened with approval. “you’re very gentle,” he remarked, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “you have a way of calming people with your touch.” you offered him a small smile, the compliment a balm to your tired spirit. “thank you,” you replied. “among the staff, it seems like no one else is as driven to help everyone as we are. it’s not just about doing our job—it’s about making a difference.”

he nodded thoughtfully, his expression thoughtful. “you’re right,” he said. “in times like these, it’s easy to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of patients. but it’s our dedication and compassion that make the difference.” you moved on to your next patient, a young boy with a deep cut on his leg. his face was streaked with tears, and he clung to his father, who looked equally distraught.

you knelt beside him, your hands gentle as you cleaned the wound. “i know it hurts,” you said softly, trying to comfort him. “but we’re gonna fix you up, and you’ll be running around again in no time.”

hoseok joined you, examining the boy’s injury with a practiced eye. “we’ll need to stitch this up,” he said, his voice reassuring. “but first, let’s make sure he’s numb so he doesn’t feel any pain.”

as you administered the local anesthetic, he watched with a critical but approving gaze. “you’re doing well,” he said. “Yyur patience with the children is remarkable. it’s important to keep their fears at bay.” you nodded, grateful for his guidance. “it’s easy to be patient when you’re reminded of what’s at stake,” you replied. “when you see their families, you understand just how crucial every moment is.”

next, you tended to a woman in her thirties who had sustained multiple fractures. Her eyes were filled with a mix of pain and fear, and her breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps. you worked swiftly but carefully, applying splints and checking her vital signs. hoseok stood beside you, offering occasional words of advice and encouragement. “she’s in a lot of pain,” you said, your voice tight with concern. “we need to manage her pain effectively to prevent shock.”

hoseok nodded, his eyes sharp as he assessed the situation. “administer a dose of morphine,” he instructed. “we need to ensure she’s stable before we can move her to the operating room.” you administered the medication, watching as the woman’s breathing slowly eased. hoseok placed a hand on your shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. “you’re handling this exceptionally well,” he said. “your attention to detail and compassion are exactly what we need.”

as the hours wore on, you continued to work tirelessly under hoseok’s watchful eye. each patient presented a new challenge, and you tackled each with a blend of skill and empathy. from applying dressings to performing initial assessments, every action was a step toward healing and hope. despite the exhaustion that gnawed at you, his praise and the knowledge that you were making a difference kept you going. the hospital’s once chaotic atmosphere began to feel more manageable, and your sense of purpose grew stronger with each patient you helped.

at one point, as you paused to take a brief break, hoseok joined you, his expression a mix of admiration and weariness. “you’ve been incredible today,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “your dedication is inspiring. it’s not often that you find someone with such a genuine drive to help.”

you smiled, the compliment a bright spot in the midst of the chaos. “i just want to make sure we’re doing everything we can,” you said. “in times like these, it’s about more than just medical care. it’s about being there for people when they need it the most.” hoseok’s eyes softened with a mixture of respect and gratitude. “and you’ve done just that,” he said. “it’s an honor to work alongside someone who shares the same commitment to helping others.”

the atmosphere in the hospital was charged with a tense energy as the chief of administrators confronted hoseok in the bustling hallway. the chief, a stout man with a stern expression, gestured sharply with a stack of papers. his voice, though not loud, was laden with authority and frustration. “hoseok,” the chief said, his tone clipped. “you’re being rash. you can’t seriously expect us to take care of every patient with the resources we have. this hospital is far too small to handle this influx. we’re stretched beyond our limits.”

hoseok’s face darkened with a mix of anger and resolve. “it is possible,” he snapped, his voice rising in frustration. “it’s possible if we put in the work and don’t just accept the limitations as insurmountable obstacles. we have to try.”

the chief’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “i understand your dedication, but you’re pushing the boundaries of reason. if you were anyone else, you’d be reprimanded severely, perhaps even fired. you’re only being tolerated because of your skills.” the words were a cold slap, but hoseok’s reaction was fierce. “if my commitment to my patients is a problem,” he said, his voice sharp and defiant, “then maybe it’s this system that needs to change. i won’t be dissuaded by bureaucracy.”

with that, he turned on his heel, his stride purposeful and quick as he stormed off down the corridor. the chief’s frustrated mutterings followed him, but hoseok was already lost in his own storm of emotions. you watched him go, torn between the need to respect his space and the desire to offer support. without a second thought, you followed him, your footsteps echoing in the emptying corridor. you found him standing by a large window in an empty lounge area, his back to you as he gazed out at the darkening sky. the setting sun cast a warm, golden hue over the scene, but it did little to ease the storm brewing within him.

you hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment. the silence between you was thick with unspoken words, and the gravity of the situation pressed heavily on your shoulders. finally, you approached him, your voice soft but resolute.

“hoseok,” you began, gently. “i know the situation is overwhelming. I know what the chief said—he’s right about the limitations we’re facing. but i want you to know something.” he turned to face you, his expression a blend of exhaustion and a flicker of vulnerability. “what is it?” he asked, his voice strained but curious.

“i understand your determination,” you continued, your gaze steady. “i understand it more than you might think. i’ve faced loss and pain, and it drives me to do everything i can to help others. i’d do anything in my power to make sure your idea succeeds. because while i can’t bring my sister back, this is the least I can do. i’ll have your back, no matter what.”

his eyes softened with gratitude, the harsh lines of frustration easing as he listened to you. “thank you,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with sincere appreciation. “your support means more than i can express. it’s hard to keep going when it feels like the world is against us.”

you smiled, the gesture a small comfort in the midst of the storm. “we’ll make it happen,” you assured him. “we’ll find a way. we have to.” he nodded, the resolute spark returning to his eyes. “yes,” he agreed. “we will. together, we can make a difference. thank you for standing by me.” you shared a moment of silent understanding, the bond between you strengthened by shared determination and mutual respect. as you both prepared to return to the fray, the sense of unity and purpose was a powerful reminder of why you were here—to fight for every patient, to push through the limits, and to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds.

you stepped outside into the cool night air, desperately seeking a reprieve from the ceaseless pressure of the hospital. the city, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, bore the marks of the earthquake’s fury. the streets were littered with debris, and the remnants of collapsed buildings loomed like broken skeletons against the skyline. the sky, a deep indigo, seemed too vast and indifferent to the suffering below.

the air was sharp and carried with it the distant sounds of sirens and the hushed murmurs of survivors. you inhaled deeply, trying to steady your racing heart. yet, the sight of the devastation—once familiar landmarks now in ruins—overwhelmed you. every corner, every shattered window, was a reminder of the chaos that had turned lives upside down. it felt as though the world had been upended, just as your own had been.

returning to the hospital was no easier. the interior was a frenetic blur of activity, the waiting room packed with patients, each one bearing their own story of agony and loss. the sight struck you like a physical blow. It was as if each face held a mirror to your own pain, reflecting the loss of your sister and the desperation you felt to make things right. you forced yourself to focus, to push past the wave of memories that threatened to engulf you. your next patient, an elderly man with a deep laceration on his abdomen, needed immediate attention. you moved with practiced efficiency, cleaning and stitching his wound with hands that trembled despite your best efforts to keep them steady.

the elderly man winced occasionally, his eyes cloudy with pain but also trust. You spoke to him softly, trying to offer some comfort. “you’re doing great,” you reassured him. “we’re almost done, and soon you’ll be on the road to recovery.” his breathing was labored, but he nodded in acknowledgment, his fingers grasping the edge of the examination table. you worked meticulously, careful to ensure each stitch was placed correctly. the procedure was intense, but you found solace in the rhythm of your actions, the repetition allowing you to block out the chaotic thoughts that threatened to invade.

finally, the wound was closed, and the elderly man’s breathing began to even out as the pain eased. you cleaned up, your movements automatic, your exhaustion palpable. as you finished, you collapsed into a chair beside the bed, your head falling into your hands. the weight of the day seemed to press down on you, and you could no longer remember the last time you had slept or even rested properly.

the door creaked open, and you barely registered hoseok’s entrance. he walked in with the calm assurance that had become a hallmark of his presence. his eyes scanned the room, taking in the patient’s steady, restful state. he then turned his gaze to you, noting your worn-out appearance. with a gentle step, he approached and took a seat in the chair next to yours. his presence was a comforting anchor amidst the storm of exhaustion and emotions. you could feel the warmth of his body close by, and despite the chaos, it offered a rare moment of tranquility.

you could feel your eyes growing heavy, the fatigue finally overtaking you. as you drifted into sleep, his gaze remained fixed on you. he watched as the strain on your face eased, replaced by a serene expression. it was a stark contrast to the tumultuous day, a brief moment of peace in the midst of a whirlwind.

his smile was soft, a mix of admiration and affection. he leaned back in the chair, letting his gaze linger on you. the sight of you, so vulnerable and yet so resolute, stirred something deep within him. he whispered to the quiet room, “what are you, indeed? peaceful at all times. what are you?” his question hung in the air, a contemplative murmur to the stillness of the night. as you slept, your breaths steady and even, hoseok remained by your side, his thoughts a tangled web of admiration and concern. the hospital’s relentless pace continued outside, but within this small, quiet corner, there was a rare moment of stillness—a respite from the storm, where two souls found solace in each other’s presence amidst the chaos.

as you slept fitfully, a small, folded photograph slipped from your pocket and fluttered to the floor. hoseok’s keen eyes caught the movement, and he picked up the photo with a gentle curiosity. he unfolded it carefully, revealing a picture of a little girl—her bright eyes and infectious smile captured in a moment of pure joy.

hia heart sank as he studied the photograph, the resemblance to the patient you had treated earlier unmistakable. the realization struck him hard. this was the sister you had spoken of, the one whose loss had driven your unyielding determination. the weight of the truth settled heavily in his chest, and he felt a pang of sorrow for your loss. with a tender, sad smile, hoseok tucked the photograph back into your pocket, his fingers brushing softly against the fabric. he watched you, the burden of your pain and the drive that had fueled your tireless work now deeply understood.

as the night wore on, you stirred in your sleep, caught in the midst of a vivid dream. In your dream, you were in a beautiful meadow, bathed in the soft, golden light of dawn. the air was filled with the delicate fragrance of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves created a serene melody. amidst this tranquil setting, you saw her—your sister. she was there, as clear and radiant as the sun itself, her smile warming the entire scene. you reached out, your heart leaping at the sight of her, but she remained just out of your grasp. every step you took towards her seemed to distance her further away, and your pleas for her to come closer went unanswered. you could feel the overwhelming love and longing that had been bottled up inside you, a potent mix of joy and heartache.

but as you stretched out your arms, the dream began to dissolve. the colors bled together, the image of your sister fading into the indistinct blur of waking reality. you jolted awake, tears streaming down your face as you realized it had been nothing but a fleeting dream. the emptiness and loss that had filled your heart so vividly in the dream now echoed painfully in the real world. you sobbed quietly, the grief of the dream and the reality of your sister’s absence crashing together in a wave of sorrow. hoseok, sensing your distress, immediately moved to your side. he wrapped his arms around you with a comforting embrace, his presence a steady anchor in the midst of your emotional storm.

“it was her,” you choked out between sobs. “she was right there, how could it be just a dream?” his voice was soothing, filled with a deep, empathetic understanding. “i know it hurts,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back. “it’s hard when dreams feel so real. but she’s with you in your heart. i promise you, we’ll get through this.”

he held you close, his warmth a balm to your aching soul. “everything will be okay,” he continued, his voice steady and reassuring. “you’re not alone in this. i’m here, and we’ll face it together.” as you leaned into his embrace, the comfort of his words and the strength of his support began to soothe the raw edges of your grief. the reality of the hospital and the endless stream of patients loomed in the background, but in that moment, all that mattered was the connection between you and hoseok. his presence was a testament to the solidarity and hope that could still be found amidst the overwhelming challenges.

the following morning, the hospital buzzed with its usual rhythm of controlled chaos. you had barely begun your rounds when the loudspeaker crackled to life, calling out an emergency in the er. hoseok’s eyes met yours, concern etched into his features as the announcement detailed the situation.

without a word, you both sprinted towards the room, hearts pounding. as you rounded the corner, the sight that greeted you made your breath catch in your throat. there, on a gurney, was jiwon, the little girl you had previously encountered. her condition had deteriorated drastically. the deep wounds on her small body had festered, turning into something far more ominous. her big, frightened eyes locked onto yours, and in that instant, the world seemed to slow. her face blurred and morphed, and for a horrifying moment, it wasn’t jiwon you saw but your sister—her eyes pleading, her body frail and helpless. the room seemed to close in on you, the sounds around you muffling as memories of your sister surged to the forefront of your mind.

you couldn’t move. you stood there, rooted to the spot, the enormity of your grief and shock rendering you immobile. your heart pounded in your ears, your vision tunneled. all you could see was the image of your sister, her final moments replaying in your mind like a cruel, endless loop. you had failed her, and now, there was jiwon, looking at you with the same desperate hope. hoseok, seeing your distress, moved quickly to your side. “hey, pull it together,” he said, his voice firm but laced with worry. you barely registered his words, your mind trapped in the past.

he shook you gently but urgently. “it’s what your sister would have wanted. she would want you to save this girl.” his words cut through the fog of your panic, grounding you. your sister. she had always admired your strength, your dedication. she wouldn’t want you to falter now. with a deep, shaky breath, you forced yourself to focus. you nodded, though the motion felt heavy and slow. together, you and hoseok ushered jiwon into the room, the weight of the moment pressing down on you but not breaking you.

inside the operating room, the atmosphere was tense, the air thick with urgency. hoseok scrubbed in, his movements precise and practiced. you followed suit, your hands steadying as you slipped into the familiar routine. “scalpel,” he requested, his voice steady. you handed it to him, your fingers brushing against his in a brief moment of silent solidarity. the incision was made, and the surgery began.

blood oozed from the wound, and you worked swiftly to suction it away, giving hoseok a clear view. the injury was worse than you had feared. necrotic tissue had to be removed, the infection threatening to spread further if not contained. “hemostat,” he ordered, and you placed the instrument in his hand, your eyes never leaving the surgical site. the room was filled with the sounds of monitors beeping, the soft swish of the ventilator, and the occasional murmur of instructions.

his focus was unyielding as he navigated through the intricate web of tissue and blood vessels. “clamp here,” he directed, and you followed, the metal tool snapping shut with a decisive click. time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into an eternity as you worked in unison, battling to save jiwon’s life. the infection was stubborn, but hoseok’s skill was unparalleled. together, you cut away the dead tissue, flushing the wound with antibiotics, suturing each layer with meticulous care. every stitch, every cut, was a step towards hope, a fight against despair. finally, the last suture was placed, and the wound was closed. you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the surgery had been a success, but the emotional toll was heavy.

you pulled off your gloves and mask, your gaze drifting to jiwon’s still form on the operating table. the anesthesia kept her unconscious, her small chest rising and falling with each breath. you moved to her side, pulling up a stool and sitting next to her. her tiny hand lay limp on the bed, and you gently took it in yours, your heart aching. tears welled up in your eyes as you watched her, the image of your sister still haunting you. you squeezed her hand softly, a tear slipping down your cheek. “everything will be okay,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i promise you.”

more tears followed, a silent stream of grief and hope mingling. hoseok approached from behind, his presence a comforting warmth. he wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting gently on your shoulder. “she’ll pull through,” he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. “you did great.” you leaned back into him, drawing strength from his embrace. the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future seemed a little more bearable with him by your side.

as you and hoseok stood vigil over her, a muffled commotion echoed through the walls, drawing your attention. exchanging a worried glance with him, you both hurried to the waiting room, the sound growing louder with each step. the scene that greeted you was chaotic. a man stood at the center of the room, his face contorted in rage. he was shouting, his voice a furious torrent of accusations and frustration. the other patients and staff looked on, too stunned or afraid to intervene.

you stepped forward, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “sir, i understand you’re upset, but we’re doing everything we can. we’re short on equipment, but we haven’t stopped working to help everyone.”

his eyes, wild with anger, locked onto yours. “everything you can?” he spat. “my wife is bleeding out and you’re telling me you’re doing everything you can?” he took a menacing step towards you, and before you could react, his hands shot out, wrapping around your throat. the world tilted as his grip tightened, cutting off your air. your hands flew to his, desperately trying to pry them off. your vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges. you could hear the frantic shouts of the staff and the gasps of the patients, but they seemed distant, muffled.

hoseok’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. “let go of her,” he was by your side in an instant, his hands tearing the man’s grip from your throat with a force you didn’t know he possessed. he pushed you behind him, shielding you with his body. he grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him close. his voice was low, dangerous. listen to me,” he growled. “we’re doing everything we can with what we have. everyone here is waiting for treatment, and so will you. if you ever lay a hand on her again, you’ll be waiting for a casket, not treatment. do you understand?”

the man’s eyes widened, fear replacing the anger as he nodded, hoseok’s grip still firm on his collar. he released the man, who stumbled back, cowed and silent.

you stood there, shaken, your hand pressed to your throat where the man’s fingers had dug in. hoseok turned to you, his expression softening with concern. he pulled you close, his fingers tracing the bruises forming on your neck. “are you alright?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. you nodded, your voice hoarse. “i’m fine, really. but hoseok, you can’t risk your position like that. what if something happened to you?”

he cupped your face in his hands, his eyes intense. “nothing is more important than you. do you understand? not my position, not this hospital. nothing.” tears welled up in your eyes at the sincerity in his voice. you leaned into his touch, the world around you fading away as you found solace in his presence. “thank you,” you whispered. “for everything.”

as the tension in the waiting room began to settle, the hospital’s chief appeared, his stern expression cutting through the residual chaos. he made his way directly to hoseok, his eyes narrowing. “dr. jung,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable weight of authority. “my office. now.” hoseok nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before following the chief down the sterile, fluorescent-lit corridor. you watched him go, anxiety twisting in your stomach.

in the chief’s office, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken reprimands. hoseok took a seat, his back straight, his eyes fixed on the older man who stood behind the large wooden desk.

“what the hell was that out there?” the chief began, his voice hard and unyielding. “do you realize the scene you made? this is a hospital, not a boxing ring.” hoseok’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. “that man was choking her. no one else did anything. i had to step in.”

the chief sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i know the toll the earthquake has taken on everyone, including you. we’re all under immense pressure, and tempers are frayed. but you need to understand that your position here is already on thin ice.” hoseok’s heart dropped, a cold wave of dread washing over him. the room seemed to shrink, the walls pressing in as the chief continued.

“you’re a good doctor, hoseok,” the chief said, his voice softer now. “but i can’t ignore the incident. that medical error—the one that led to the failed surgery and the death of that little girl—it’s not something we can afford to forget. you need to be more careful. one more mistake, and your career could be over.”

the words hit him like a physical blow. he felt a chill run through his veins, the memory of that night flashing before his eyes. the sterile operating room, the smell of antiseptic, the panicked beeping of the monitors. and then the silence. the deafening silence after the little girl’s heart had stopped. he forced himself to nod, his voice tight. “i understand. i’ll be careful.”

the chief’s eyes softened slightly, but the severity of his words remained. “i’m not saying this to punish you, hoseok. i’m saying it because you’re a talented doctor. don’t let your emotions jeopardize everything you’ve worked for.” he stood, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on his shoulders. “thank you, sir. i’ll keep that in mind.”

as he left the office, the gravity of the chief’s warning pressed down on him. the memory of your little girl’s lifeless body haunted him, a constant reminder of his fallibility. the stakes had never felt higher.

returning to the waiting room, he found you standing there, worry etched into your features. you rushed to him, your eyes scanning his face for any sign of what had transpired.

“what happened?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he gave you a reassuring smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “just a reminder to keep my cool,” he said, his voice steady but carrying the weight of the chief’s warning. “we need to be careful. both of us.” you nodded, understanding the unspoken implications. the hospital was a place of healing but also a place where mistakes could cost lives and careers. together, you would navigate these treacherous waters, leaning on each other for strength.

the minutes turned into hours as the hospital faced an onslaught of patients, each with their own urgent needs. the air was thick with the sounds of pain and desperation, interspersed with the beeping of monitors and the hurried footsteps of medical staff. a young man was wheeled in, clutching his abdomen, his face contorted in agony. “it’s appendicitis,” hoseok diagnosed quickly. “we need to operate immediately.” you assisted in prepping him for surgery, your hands steady as you administered anesthesia, feeling the weight of the man's trust in your hands.

next came an elderly woman, her breathing labored and her skin pallid. hoseok listened to her chest, his brow furrowing in concentration. “pulmonary edema,” he said, his voice decisive. “we need to get her stabilized.” you moved swiftly, setting up an iv and administering medication, feeling the tension ease slightly as her breathing became more regular.

throughout the chaos, hoseok’s praise for your work was a steady undercurrent. “you’re doing great,” he’d say, his eyes meeting yours with a reassuring smile. “i couldn’t do this without you.” each word of encouragement sent a flutter through your heart, grounding you amid the storm of activity.

a little boy was brought in next, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle. “fracture,” hoseok noted, his expression softening as he knelt beside the boy. “we’ll fix you up, champ.” you held the boy’s hand, distracting him with stories as hoseok expertly set the bone and applied a cast. the boy’s tears turned to a tentative smile, and you felt a surge of warmth at the sight.

an older man with a deep gash on his thigh was next. “this is going to need stitches,” hoseok said, his tone gentle as he cleaned the wound. you handed him the sutures, your fingers brushing briefly, a jolt of electricity passing between you. as he stitched the wound with precision, he glanced up at you. “we make a good team, don’t we?” you smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “we do,” you agreed, your voice soft.

as the day wore on, the stream of patients seemed endless. you and hoseok moved in sync, your actions a well-rehearsed dance of medical efficiency and compassionate care. every now and then, his hand would find yours, a silent gesture of support that spoke volumes. by the time the sun began to set, the exhaustion was palpable. your muscles ached, and your mind buzzed with the day’s events. hoseok finished treating the last patient, a woman with a sprained ankle, and turned to you with a weary but proud smile. “you were amazing today,” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

“thank you,” you replied, feeling a sense of accomplishment despite your fatigue. “you too.” as you walked out of the hospital, the cool evening air was a welcome relief. the makeshift shower stations set up outside beckoned, promising a brief respite from the day’s grime and stress. uou grabbed a towel and stepped under the water, letting the cool droplets wash away the dirt and blood, a small sigh escaping your lips.

the evening had settled into a quiet lull, the chaos of the day finally giving way to a rare moment of peace. you stood beneath the shower, the water cascading over your tired body, washing away the grime and stress that had accumulated throughout the day. each droplet felt like a small blessing, providing a fleeting sense of relief. as you stood there, eyes closed, lost in the sensation of the water, you heard the soft swish of the shower curtain. you didn’t tense up; you knew who it was even before his arms wrapped around your bare waist, pulling you back against his solid chest. hoseok's touch was gentle yet firm, his breath warm against your neck as he held you close.

“you did a good job today,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your weary soul. “thank you,” you replied, your voice soft, filled with a mix of gratitude and exhaustion.

his lips brushed against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. you turned around to face him, your eyes meeting his. despite the exhaustion etched into his features, he looked as gorgeous as ever. the soft spray of water from the shower highlighted the contours of his face, making him seem almost ethereal in the dim light. his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away the water that clung to your skin. his touch was tender, filled with an unspoken promise of comfort and affection. slowly, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. it was a kiss filled with unspoken words, a desperate need for connection and relief from the day’s turmoil.

you kissed back, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, gripping them as if he were your lifeline. the kiss grew more heated, a sense of urgency taking over as the weight of the day’s events melted away in the intensity of the moment. his hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. the water continued to cascade around you, mingling with the heat of your embrace. each kiss, each touch, seemed to erase a little more of the day’s exhaustion, replacing it with a fervent need for each other. hoseok’s lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of burning desire in their wake.

you arched into him, your breath hitching as his hands explored, finding the places that made you shiver with need. “hoseok,” you breathed, your voice a mix of longing and relief. he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as they met yours. “i need you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “right now, more than ever.”

without another word, he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, the coldness of the hospital towel forgotten as you clung to him. his mouth returned to yours, the kisses deepening, growing more desperate with each passing second. the water pounded against your skin, the rhythm matching the beat of your racing heart. his hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers digging in as he held you tightly. you could feel his arousal pressing against you, and the realization sent a jolt of excitement through your body.

his mouth left your lips, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispered, “you’re so beautiful, so so beautiful.” his words were a potent aphrodisiac, sending a warm flush through your body. you moaned in response, your hands tangling in his hair. his kisses grew more insistent, his tongue tracing the line of your jaw before dipping down to your collarbone. you gasped as he sucked on the sensitive skin, his teeth lightly grazing the surface. the sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that had you squirming against him.

his hands found your tits, kneading them gently as his thumbs flicked over your nipples. you moaned again, louder this time, the sound echoing off the tiles of the shower. your hips rocked against him, seeking more contact, more friction. the need to be closer was overwhelming, the ache between your legs demanding attention. hoseok’s movements grew more urgent, his kisses more demanding. you could feel the tension coiling in his body, a mirror to the desire coursing through your own. you knew that this wasn’t just about sex; it was about connecting, about reaffirming the bond that had grown stronger with each passing day in the chaotic world.

his hands slid down, reaching between your legs, and you shuddered as his fingers found you, already wet and ready. “so good, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. you bit your lip, trying to hold back the whimpers that threatened to spill forth as he touched you, stoked the fire within you. your body begged for more, and hoseok, ever attentive, was more than happy to oblige.

his thumb circled your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body, while his other hand supported you, holding you firmly against the wall of the shower. the cool tiles provided a stark contrast to the heat that was building within you. hoseok’s eyes never left yours, his gaze locked on you as if he could see straight into your soul. the intimacy of the moment was almost too much to handle, your love for him growing with each touch, each caress.

his fingers slipped inside you, and you threw your head back, the water now a backdrop to the symphony of sensations that were playing out between you. your hips bucked against his hand, seeking the release that was just out of reach. his strokes grew quicker, more insistent, as he whispered filthy, loving words into your ear. the shower was now a cocoon of passion, the sounds of the water mixing with your moans and gasps.

his other hand moved to the base of your spine, pressing you even closer to him, and you could feel the tip of his erection nudging against you. you were both trembling with need, the world outside the shower fading away until there was only the two of you, lost in a haze of desire. hoseok’s eyes searched yours, looking for permission, and you gave it willingly, nodding your head. without hesitation, he entered you, filling you up with one smooth, powerful thrust.

you cried out, your body stretching to accommodate him, the sensation almost too intense. he stilled for a moment, giving you time to adjust, before he began to move, his hips rolling into yours with a slow, steady rhythm that had you seeing stars. the water continued to cascade around you, a gentle reminder of the world outside, but in this moment, there was only the two of you, the heat of your bodies melding together, the sound of your breaths mingling with the patter of the rain.

his movements grew more urgent, his strokes deepening as he claimed you, his gentle doctor’s hands now possessive and firm. you matched his pace, your legs tightening around him, your nails digging into his back. the water rained down on you both, turning the steamy air into a sensual embrace that only heightened the passion of the moment. hoseok’s lips found yours again, his tongue delving deep as if trying to devour you whole. your kisses grew sloppy and desperate, your breaths mingling in a symphony of need.

his hand left your thigh, sliding up to grip your neck, holding you in place as he ravished your mouth. you felt the tip of his tongue trace the seam of your lips before pushing inside, and you responded eagerly, your own tongue dancing with his. the taste of mint toothpaste and the faint metallic hint of hospital air was intoxicating, a stark reminder of the reality that surrounded your clandestine escape into the steamy oasis.

you reached down to wrap your hand around his length, stroking him in time with his thrusts, feeling him pulse and throb in your grip. his eyes closed briefly, a look of pure ecstasy crossing his face, before snapping open to meet yours again. the intensity of his gaze was almost too much, but you held it, never breaking contact, as you pushed him closer to the edge. hoseok’s breathing grew ragged, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached climax.

his hand moved to cover yours, guiding your strokes, showing you just how he liked it. your other hand slid down to cup his back, pulling him into you with each thrust. the friction was exquisite, each movement bringing you closer to the precipice of pleasure. the sound of the shower was now a cacophony of splashing water, wet skin slapping against wet skin, and the grunts and moans of two lovers lost in the throes of passion.

hoseok’s eyes went wide, and he let out a guttural groan, his body stiffening as he came inside you. the warmth of his release sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. your legs tightened around him, your body shuddering with the force of it. he held you through it all, his arms strong and steady, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you both rode the waves of pleasure.

as your climax subsided, he slowly pulled out, his eyes never leaving yours. you could see the love and adoration shining in them, a stark contrast to the raw lust that had been there moments before. hoseok kissed you gently, his touch tender as he set you down on unsteady legs. the water continued to fall around you, washing away the last remnants of the day’s tension as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, hearts racing and bodies spent. the steam cleared, and reality began to seep back in, but for now, you didn’t care about the world outside. all that mattered was the warmth of hoseok’s embrace, the feel of his skin against yours, and the quiet reassurance that, amidst the chaos, you had found something beautiful and true. you stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your body, the soft fabric a gentle caress against your sensitive skin. hoseok followed, pulling you close once more, and you knew that, no matter what tomorrow brought, you would face it together.

the morning sun filtered through the cracks in the hospital blinds, casting a soft glow over the bustling emergency room. you stood at a patient’s bedside, your hands steady as you carefully adjusted an iv drip. the patient, an elderly woman with kind eyes, smiled weakly at you.

“thank you, dear,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. you returned her smile, your heart warmed by her gratitude. “just doing my job,” you replied gently, checking her vitals one last time before moving on to the next patient. the night had been long, and you felt the weight of exhaustion in your bones, but the memory of hoseok’s arms around you, his whispered reassurances, kept you going.

as you made your way down the corridor, you caught snippets of conversation from two nurses passing by. their voices were hushed, but not enough to prevent you from hearing their words.

“did you hear about (y/n) and doctor jung? i heard she seduced him for a better position and pay,” one of them whispered, a note of disdain in her voice. “typical,” the other replied, her tone equally scornful. “some people will do anything to get ahead.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. your heart churned, and for a moment, you felt a wave of nausea. you clenched your fists, fighting to keep your composure as the nurses’ voices faded away. at the same time, you heard a familiar voice by the door. “ignore them.”

you turned to see hoseok standing there, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination. his presence was a balm to your wounded spirit. he crossed the room, his hand finding yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. you took a deep breath, nodding. “thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible. he smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “we’ve got more important things to focus on.”

with renewed determination, you continued your rounds, treating patients with the same care and dedication that had always driven you. you sutured wounds, administered medication, and offered comforting words to those in pain. each task was a reminder of why you had chosen this path, and why you wouldn’t let the cruel words of others deter you. one patient, a young boy with a broken arm, clung to his mother as you gently examined the injury. “it’s gonna be okay,” you told him, your voice soothing. “we’ll get you all fixed up.” the boy looked at you with wide, trusting eyes. “promise?”

“i promise,” you said, your heart aching at his vulnerability. you worked quickly and efficiently, setting the bone and applying a cast while his mother watched with tears in her eyes. “thank you, doctor,” she said, her voice trembling with relief. “it’s my pleasure,” you replied, giving her a reassuring smile. as you finished up, you felt a hand on your shoulder. you turned to see hoseok standing beside you, his eyes filled with admiration.

“can we talk?” he asked softly. you nodded, following him to a quiet corner of the room. he turned to face you, his expression serious yet tender. “do you regret what happened last night?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. you shook your head, reaching up to cup his cheek. “no, i don’t. not for a second.”

his face softened with relief, a smile breaking through his serious demeanor. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “i’m glad,” he murmured. “because i don’t regret it either.” in that moment, surrounded by the relentless noise of the hospital, the weight of your responsibilities, and the harsh whispers of gossip, you felt a sense of clarity. you and hoseok were in it together, facing the challenges side by side. and no matter what the day would bring, you knew that as long as you had each other, you could endure anything.

the hours flew by in a whirlwind of activity. the emergency room was flooded with patients, and you and hoseok barely had a moment to breathe. each case demanded your full attention, and you threw yourself into your work, determined to make a difference. one of your patients was a middle-aged man with severe lacerations from a car accident. his face was pale, and he winced with every movement. “stay still for me,” you instructed gently as you cleaned the wound. his wife hovered nearby, wringing her hands in worry.

“will he be okay?” she asked, her voice trembling. “we’re doing everything we can,” you reassured her, glancing at hoseok, who was prepping the sutures. “he’s in good hands.” the man’s grip tightened on his wife’s hand as you worked together with hoseok to close the deep gashes. every stitch you made felt like a small victory, a reminder of the importance of your work.

“thank you, doctor,” the man said weakly as you finished, his voice filled with gratitude. “rest now,” hoseok added, his tone calm and authoritative. “you’re going to be fine.”

you moved on to the next patient, a young woman with a high fever and respiratory distress. you monitored her vitals, administered medication, and did everything you could to stabilize her. the relentless pace continued, and with each patient you treated, you felt the weight of responsibility grow heavier. finally, as the sun began to set, the flow of new patients slowed down. the exhaustion hit you like a wave, and you found yourself leaning against a wall, closing your eyes for a moment’s respite. hoseok appeared at your side, his expression mirroring your fatigue.

“let’s take a break,” he suggested softly. “we’ve done enough for now.” you nodded, too tired to argue. together, you walked outside, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the emergency room. a small bonfire crackled nearby, providing warmth and light in the growing darkness. you both sat down, the flames casting flickering shadows on your faces.

he handed you a can of cheap soda, and you accepted it gratefully. you popped the tab and took a sip, the sweetness refreshing after the long day. he watched the fire for a moment before turning his gaze to you, the firelight illuminating his features. “what made you so determined?” you asked, breaking the silence. “i know why i’m here, but i’ve never asked about you.” hoseok sighed, his eyes distant as he stared into the flames. “at first, it was about the money. i wanted a stable career, something that paid well. but everything changed when the earthquake hit.”

you listened intently as he continued, his voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. “there was a little girl who was rushed in during the chaos. she was so small, so fragile. i did everything i could to save her, but i made a mistake. a medical error. and she didn’t make it.” your heart ached at his words, a deep empathy stirring within you. “i understand,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “i know that feeling all too well.”

hoseok looked at you, his eyes filled with a pain that mirrored your own. “i know you understand,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “because that little girl was your sister.” the world seemed to tilt on its axis. you stared at him, your mind struggling to process his words. “what? are you joking?”

“i wish i were,” he replied, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “when i saw the photo of her slip out of your pocket, i knew. i recognized her immediately.”

a torrent of emotions surged through you—shock, betrayal, anger. you pulled away from him, standing up abruptly. “you knew all this time and didn’t tell me?” hoseok stood up as well, his expression desperate. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know how to tell you. I thought—”

“you thought what?” you snapped, your voice rising. “that i wouldn’t find out? that it wouldn’t matter?”

he took a step towards you, his hands outstretched in a pleading gesture. “i did everything i could to save her. i swear. i’ve lived with that guilt every day.” you shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “i can’t believe this. i trusted you, hoseok.”

“please,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t want to hurt you.” but you couldn’t hear his apologies over the roar of your own anguish. you turned and walked back into the hospital, each step heavy with the weight of betrayal. the familiar corridors felt alien now, and the faces of your colleagues blurred in your vision.

inside, you found a quiet corner and sank to the floor, your heart shattering with each passing second. the realization that hoseok, the man you had come to trust and care for, was connected to the most painful moment of your life was too much to bear. you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to hold together the pieces of your broken heart. the hospital, once a place of solace and purpose, now felt like a labyrinth of pain and deceit. and as you sat there, alone and overwhelmed, you wondered if you would ever find a way to heal.

the night had already been filled with too much pain, but the worst was yet to come. the dull hum of the hospital was suddenly pierced by the shrill cry of an alarm. the emergency broadcast system crackled to life, filling the room with a foreboding announcement: “attention. a new earthquake is imminent. please proceed to the designated safety areas immediately.”

the sound of the alert was quickly followed by the frantic ringing of alarms. panic spread through the corridors like wildfire. the television screens mounted on the walls flickered with images of shaking buildings and terrified faces. staff members sprinted through the halls, urging patients and visitors to head for the basement. you were still reeling from the revelation of hoseok’s connection to your sister’s death, but the urgency of the situation snapped you into action. the chaos around you was overwhelming, but you focused on the immediate task at hand. the job you had taken on had always been about helping people, and in that moment, you had to live up to the commitment.

you grabbed a nearby nurse, her face ashen with fear. “we need to get everyone to the basement!” you shouted over the cacophony. “we’ll start with the patients in critical condition. follow me!” the nurse nodded, her expression resolute despite her trembling hands. together, you moved swiftly from room to room, helping patients to their feet and guiding them towards the emergency exits. the corridors were a maze of frantic movement and terrified faces.

“please, stay calm!” you yelled as you assisted an elderly woman in a wheelchair. “we’re getting you to safety.” as the ground began to rumble beneath you, a low, ominous growl filled the air. the hospital’s structure groaned as if protesting the force of the impending quake. your heart pounded in your chest as you ushered more patients into the basement, each tremor sending vibrations through the floor and walls.

with each passing moment, the intensity of the shaking increased. the walls swayed, and the ceiling tiles rattled loose, falling to the floor with a deafening crash. the alarms blared incessantly, adding to the din of panicked voices. in the basement, the scene was no less chaotic. people huddled together, their faces pale and eyes wide with terror. you made sure everyone was settled as best as they could be, then pushed your way through the throng of people, desperately searching for hoseok. his absence was an increasing source of dread.

“has anybody seen doctor jung?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain calm. no one answered, and your anxiety only grew.

the tremors beneath your feet grew stronger, and the ground shook violently. the basement walls trembled, and the ceiling seemed to ripple as if in a nightmarish dance. the sobs and cries of frightened families echoed through the confined space. “no, no!” you heard someone scream. “not again!”

the tremors were relentless, a relentless assault on your senses. you clung to a nearby support beam, your knuckles white with the strain. the shaking went on for what felt like hours, an endless barrage of terror and uncertainty. when the shaking finally ceased, a heavy silence settled over the basement. the air was thick with the scent of dust and fear. you looked around, your heart racing, searching for hoseok amid the sea of frightened faces.

“hoseok!” you shouted, but the name was swallowed by the silence. your eyes scanned the room frantically, but there was no sign of him. you approached one of the staff members, her face pale with exhaustion. “have you seen doctor jung? he was supposed to be here, helping—”

“i haven’t seen him since the earthquake started,” she said, her voice trembling. “he must still be upstairs.” a cold dread washed over you as the realization set in. if he was still up there, he was in grave danger. you moved towards the stairwell, but before you could take more than a few steps, a pair of strong hands grabbed your shoulders, pulling you back.

“it’s too dangerous!” a voice shouted. it was one of the security personnel. “we need to stay down here until we’re sure the building is stable!” you struggled against their hold, desperation making your voice raw. “i have to find him, he could be hurt.”

“we’ll send a search team once it’s safe,” the security guard said firmly. “you need to stay put.” you watched helplessly as the staff continued to reassure and comfort the frightened patients. your heart ached with each passing minute, knowing that hoseok was up there, alone and in danger. you couldn’t shake the image of him, his face filled with anguish and regret.

as the hours dragged on, the basement’s tension slowly dissipated. the quake had left the hospital in a state of disarray, but the immediate danger had passed. emergency lights flickered on, casting a harsh, eerie glow over the faces of those huddled together. you sat down on a bench, your body trembling from exhaustion and stress. the fear and sorrow were overwhelming, and the knowledge that he was still missing gnawed at you with relentless intensity. the events of the past days seemed to blur into one long, unending nightmare.

with each passing moment, you clung to the hope that hoseok would return, that somehow he would come back to you, alive and safe. but as the minutes ticked by and the search continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing him for good. the basement was a sea of tears and whispered fears, and you were adrift in the middle of it all, waiting for news that felt like it might never come.

the basement, once a haven of safety, now felt like an eerie waiting room, filled with the weight of anxiety and the suffocating hush of fear. the tension was palpable as everyone waited for news, the soft sobs of frightened families creating a haunting backdrop to the dimly lit space. you sat on the edge of a bench, your hands trembling, eyes darting towards the stairwell as if willing hoseok to appear.

the sound of hurried footsteps and the clamor of metal brought a sudden rush of urgency. a safety team burst into the basement, carrying a stretcher between them. the sight of their grim expressions only heightened your anxiety. as they made their way through the crowd, a small figure trailed behind them, her face streaked with tears. you recognized her immediately—jiwon, the little girl you had been so concerned about. your heart leaped at the sight of her. “jiwon!” you cried out, rushing towards her.

she ran into your arms, her sobs shaking her small frame. “i’m so glad to see you,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “i was so worried.” her tear-streaked face looked up at you, her eyes filled with both gratitude and sorrow. “i wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t rescued me,” she said between hiccupping breaths.

you frowned, confusion clouding your thoughts. “who are you talking about?”

she pointed to the stretcher being wheeled in. your heart dropped as you took in the sight of the man lying on it. it was hoseok. his once-immaculate white coat was now a tattered mess, stained with blood and grime. his face was marred by scratches, and his skin was torn and bruised from splinters. a gash in his leg bled profusely, and his breathing was shallow and labored.

panic surged through you as you pushed past the safety team and knelt beside him. “hoseok!” you cried, gently placing your fingers against his neck. the pulse beneath your fingertips was weak but present. relief mingled with the gnawing regret that had taken root in your heart. “hoseok!” you pleaded, your voice breaking as you examined his wounds. “please, stay with me.”

jiwon, her face still wet with tears, watched you with a look of deep concern. “he saved me,” she repeated, her voice quivering. “he kept me safe.”

you took a deep breath, fighting the wave of despair threatening to overwhelm you. “i need medical supplies!” you shouted to the team, your voice urgent. “now!” as the team scrambled to fetch the equipment, you turned your attention back to him. memories of his teachings flashed through your mind—everything he had shared about treating injuries, his instructions on how to handle severe trauma. with trembling hands, you began to clean the gash on his leg, your movements both desperate and precise.

the blood flowed freely, and you struggled to staunch the flow. you focused on each step, trying to push aside the guilt gnawing at you. “i’m sorry,” you whispered as you worked. “i’m so sorry.” the minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. your hands worked methodically, applying pressure, cleaning the wound, and bandaging it with the skill you had learned from him. every time you looked at his face, every time you saw the pain and the sacrifice etched into his features, the regret and sorrow became nearly unbearable.

finally, after what felt like hours, you finished with his leg. you moved to his other injuries, performing basic first aid to stabilize him as best you could. each movement was a battle against the rising tide of emotion and the weight of your fears. with hoseok now stabilized, you stepped back, your heart aching as you looked at his battered form. you took his hand in yours, your tears falling onto his still face. “please,” you begged, your voice cracking with emotion. “please wake up. you have to stay alive. i need you. i forgive you—whatever happened, it doesn’t matter. i can’t lose you too.”

the silence of the basement was deafening as you continued to hold his hand, the enormity of what had happened crashing down on you. the walls seemed to close in, and the oppressive weight of the situation bore heavily on your shoulders. as you sat beside him, your pleas became more desperate. “hoseok, you have to come back to me. i know i’ve been angry, and i know there’s so much we haven’t said. but you’re the only one who understands, the only one who has been there for me. please, don’t leave me.”

jiwon, watching from a few steps away, seemed to sense your pain and stepped closer. “he saved me,” she said softly, her voice full of quiet conviction. “he’s a hero. he’ll be okay.” your heart swelled with gratitude for the little girl’s words, but it did little to ease the crushing weight of guilt and grief. he had put his life on the line just to save the girl that reminded you so much of your sister. the faint sound of the alarms in the background was a stark reminder of the chaos outside, but there, in the small, dimly lit corner of the basement, it was just you and him.

the basement was still, save for the occasional shuffling of feet and the distant murmurs of anxious voices. the weight of the entire ordeal hung heavy in the air as you sat by hoseok’s side, your hands stained with blood and your body numb from exhaustion. the darkness of the night seemed endless, a constant reminder of the fragile line between hope and despair.

you hadn't closed your eyes for what felt like an eternity, your gaze fixed on his still form. every labored breath he took was a reminder of the dire situation, and you clung to the hope that he would pull through. the flickering light from the emergency lamps cast long, wavering shadows across his face, highlighting the bruises and cuts that marred his once-charming features.

finally, after what seemed like an infinite stretch of time, you saw a slight movement. his eyes fluttered open, and your heart leaped into your throat. “hoseok!” you cried out, your voice trembling with a mix of relief and disbelief.

his eyes, though heavy with exhaustion, met yours. his breathing was still labored, each inhale coming in shallow, ragged gasps. but there was a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of the warm, familiar presence you had feared you might never see again. tears streamed down your face as you reached for him, your fingers brushing against his cheek with a gentleness born of desperation and love.

he gave a weak smile, his lips curving up despite the pain etched into every line of his face. “well,” he rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper, “i always thought you’d be the one in this position, not me.” a shaky laugh escaped you as you held him closer, your tears mingling with the blood on his clothes. “i’m so glad you’re awake,” you whispered through your sobs. “i was so scared I’d lost you. i'm so sorry.”

his fingers, though trembling, reached up to brush your hair away from your face. the touch was tender, and it made your heart ache with the depth of your relief. “i’m the one who should be sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but earnest. “i never wanted to put you through this.”

you shook your head, pressing your forehead against his. “no,” you said firmly, your voice breaking with emotion. “you did your best. you saved jiwon. you saved her, and you saved me.”

as you held him, his lips brushed gently against your hair, a tender gesture that conveyed more than words ever could. you could feel his heartbeat, faint but steady, and it was a rhythm that filled you with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. his gaze wandered to where jiwon stood a few feet away. her face was slick with tears, but she was smiling, her small frame trembling with the weight of the relief and gratitude she felt. the sight of her, so reminiscent of your own lost sister, brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

her presence was a poignant reminder of everything you had lost and everything you had fought so hard to protect. she was a symbol of innocence and hope, a small, fragile life that had been preserved through the sacrifices made by hoseok and yourself. the resemblance to your sister was uncanny, and it was as though the universe had given you a bittersweet gift—a reflection of the child you had mourned, now standing before you as a living testament to the strength and resilience of the human spirit.

you looked at her, then back at hoseok, who was watching her with a faint smile on his lips. his eyes were filled with a mix of pain and satisfaction, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed through their shared ordeal. “she reminds me so much of her,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him.

he nodded, his gaze still fixed on jiwon. “i know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “she’s a brave little girl.”

the basement, once filled with dread and uncertainty, now seemed to resonate with a quiet, profound sense of relief. despite the chaos and the trauma that had unfolded, the small victories and the lives saved were a testament to the strength and courage that had carried you through.

you continued to hold hoseok close, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions. the night had been long and harrowing, but as you sat there, enveloped in the warmth of his presence and the sight of jiwon’s tearful smile, you felt a flicker of hope and redemption.

✧.*

a/n: this was so fun to write omg

[astarionspointyears]

Dawn broke over the horizon, filling the camp with a deep golden light. Tav groaned and rolled over, threw her arm over her eyes to block the light and tried to go back to sleep. It was too early and her brain was not ready to function yet. Her head throbbed as if being crushed by an ogre, her muscles so sore she wasn’t sure if she could even stand. Despite the whole ordeal yesterday Tav had barely slept. Sleeping outside under the stars might be someone’s idea of fun, but it certainly wasn’t hers. Tav liked her bed with soft sheets and comfortable pillows. Not a thin sleeping bag on the rocky ground with bugs flying in her ears.

Tav drifted in and out of sleep for a while until she couldn’t ignore the ache in her stomach any longer. Her head protested heavily as she forced her eyes open and sat up. The others were already awake, it seemed. Shadowheart was bent over the fire stirring something in a large pot as Lae’zel sat nearby skinning an animal, possibly a rabbit. Tav gathered her bathing supplies and started towards the nearby river.

“We cannot afford any more lie-ins,” Lae’zel said as she passed. “If we are going to survive this, we need to-”

“Spare me the lecture,” Tav said. “I know. I’ll be back shortly and we can all discuss the next steps.”

Lae’zel didn’t seem to like this answer, but didn’t protest any further. Tav exchanged a brief glance with Shadowheart and then proceeded towards the river. The trees were sparse, and Tav could see the water from quite far away. She spotted the silver haired elf, whose name escaped her, sitting on a rock in a patch of sunlight. They had met him near the crash site, apparently in the same predicament as the rest of them. Tav trusted him about as much as a goblin on trial, which she thought was justified given the fact he had tried to kill her yesterday. There was strength in numbers though, so they agreed to travel together.

Tav cleared her throat as she approached him. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation but she didn’t want to startle him either, given his proclivity for stabbing. “Good morning,” she muttered.

The elf glanced up at her, his mouth curling up into a half smile. “Morning,” he said. His voice was rich like expensive chocolate.

Tav returned the smile and moved to a clear spot several yards away from him. She sat down next to the water and stripped off her shirt to review the various injuries she had obtained in the crash. The left side of her body seemed to have taken it the worst, and a rather nasty bruise was spreading over her ribs. If they were going to get through this nightmare they would need to make salves and various other healing potions. Tav made a mental note to speak to her companions about it. There was so much they needed to prepare, so much they needed to do if they were going to get out of this alive. Tav felt bile rise up in her throat when she thought about what lay ahead of her. As far as anyone knew, a mindflayer parasite in your head meant certain death and nobody knew how or why they had not yet transformed. She swallowed hard and hoped Lae’zel’s crèche would agree to help them and they could be rid of the tadpoles quickly.

Tav knelt beside the stream and dipped her face in the water. She would have preferred a hot bath, but at this point she had to take what she could get. As she scrubbed the layers of dirt and blood off her skin her eyes wandered over to the silver haired elf. There was something ethereal about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He was tall and slender, with an angular face and sharp jawline. His porcelain skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, his silver hair curled perfectly around his ears. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful person Tav had seen in a while. Maybe ever.

“I am quite beautiful, aren’t I?”

His voice startled Tav from her thoughts, and she realized she’d been staring. She quickly averted her eyes.

“What?”

“You think I’m beautiful,” he said.

Tav proceeded to wet her hair and lathered up with soap. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s all right, darling,” his voice simultaneously deepened and softened. Tav had to strain to hear him over the rush of water. “You’re hardly the first person to think so. I probably am the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.”

Tav rolled her eyes. She refused to look at him as she brushed the tangles from her hair. “You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”

He chuckled, stood up, and walked over to her. Tav couldn’t help but notice the way his wet shirt clung to him, outlining the muscles on his stomach and chest. She forced herself to look somewhere else. Anywhere else.

“You’ve forgotten about the tadpoles,” he said, smirking like the cat that caught the canary. “Anyone can hear your thoughts if you’re not careful. Yours were quite loud, just now.”

Tav huffed out a breath and immediately closed her mind, shutting out anyone who might be listening. Of course she had learned of the tadpole’s psychic powers yesterday, but in the haze of shock and exhaustion she had forgotten. Tav splashed water on her face to hide the flush that crept up her neck. She was not about to allow this elf to gain the upper hand just because he was handsome.

“Did you also hear how I want to smack that smirk off your face?” Tav muttered.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

Tav stood up to dry herself off and found herself face to face with him. There was something about his red hued eyes that set her on edge. Everything about him - his smile, purposely messy hair, even his outfit - felt almost too perfect. It felt like he had been created simply to get under her skin, disarm her and make her vulnerable. Under his gaze, Tav felt like a mouse about to be pounced on. Despite all of this though, Tav thought she saw a trace of trepidation in his face. He wanted to appear aloof and uncaring, but something told her he was just as lost and scared as she was.

“Do you need something?” Tav asked after a long moment.

“A stiff drink, to start,” he said. “But more than that, I need allies. I need to know that we can work together to solve this tadpole problem. I need to know I can trust you.”

Tav shrugged. “Trust might be asking a lot, but I don’t think we have much of a choice. All of us have this…condition. The way I see it, we either team up or we die. Or transform, I suppose.”

The elf seemed to shudder at the mention of ceremophosis. “Perish the thought. I’d hate to deprive the world of this beautiful body.”

“I don’t know,” Tav said. “Tentacles might look good on you. It would certainly add a layer of intrigue.”

He gave a halfhearted laugh and his cocky smirk changed into a softer, almost genuine smile. He took a step towards her and leaned in. Tav’s heart started to beat faster and a shiver ran up her spine as he reached into her hair and untangled a dead leaf, which he pulled out and tossed aside. Her skin tingled where his fingers brushed against her.

“Thanks,” Tav said, hoping he didn’t notice the change in her breathing.

“Astarion.”

“Sorry?”

“My name is Astarion.” His cocky smirk returned. “I have a feeling you won’t be forgetting it again.”

Tav rolled her eyes. “I suppose I won’t, but probably not for the reasons you think.”

“As long you remember, darling, the reasons are irrelevant,” Astarion said with a slight bow of his head. “I’ll see you back at camp, then.”

Tav nodded and watched Astarion as he turned to walk away. She wondered about his motives, what made him so confident, yet so fragile? What secret was he hiding, and did it make him a good (maybe dangerous) ally, or a liability? There was no way to know for sure.

Whatever the case was, Tav knew one thing about Astarion - he was going to be a big problem.

[thewickedspinster]

The Protector & the Prince (Aedion Ashryver x Reader)

a/n: this character and plotline has been in my head ever since i read throne of glass, so i'm lowkey thinking of making this a series? to explore the character and also her relationship with aedion? because there is a criminally low amount of aedion love out here (i'm happy to provide). lmk your thoughts in the comments!

content: aedion x fem!reader, aelin x reader platonic, rowan whitethorn ofc, spoilers for empire of storms & kingdom of ash, slight au where reader is taken by maeve instead of aelin

requested by anon

The Protector & the Prince

The dawn was chill and damp against your cheeks. Dew rose from the meadow below, kissing your hair and skin. Welcoming you home.

In the rocky hollow behind you, the Bane packed up camp. They were battle-weary, exhausted to the bone after years of fighting in the mountains. Last night at dusk, when the company had stopped, you had just been able to make out the spires of Orynth across the next hill. It had been a trial in will to halt, to take stock, to rest before making the final push across the Staghorns.

Today, you would return to the home you had been forced to abandon, to the people you called your own. To your queen. To your friends. The war had been won, they said. Word had come over the mountains in the form of a white-tailed hawk; the king himself had come to find you and call you home. He had said his queen commanded it.

Against your will and better judgement, the memories of the past decade flowed freely as you and your company hiked down into the vale, then up the other side, crossing the last line of mountains. The loss of Aelin, the fall of Orynth, the Assassin's Guild, the land of Erilea, the return of magic, and the nightmares of war. Yet by midday, Terrasen unfolded before you, green and golden as ever. Your heart strained against its cage, and the Bane's pace hastened to the city's gates.

When you had last seen this city, it had been white and glistening, a kingdom in its prime. You were but nine years old, a nameless child with no family, no wealth, who had been taken in by King Orlon, of all people, to guard his young niece and heir, Aelin Galathynius. Since, your fae lineage had been revealed, and his choice in you had become clearer; only you could have followed Aelin to the ends of the earth as you did. Only you could have kept her safe.

Now, Orynth was rebuilding. The people had begun to return, but their wariness was palpable as they turned from their work to observe the Bane walking down the main thoroughfare. Some bowed, but there was no fanfare. There was little room for celebration as the dust of war settled, and the work began.

Your mind was a muted whirlwind of thoughts. You had little idea what to expect upon seeing Aelin. You hadn't seen her since the day on the beach, when you had been taken by Maeve in her place. The war done, you no longer knew your place.

Besides all this, your heart pounded for entirely different, unwelcome reasons.

Aedion would be here.

Aedion, Aelin's cousin, the Wolf of the North, fearsome general and protector of a fallen kingdom, had always been your best friend. Your first friend in Orynth, the lifeline you held onto while training with Arobynn. Your closest confidant. The only person you needed. And gods, did you need him now, with the uncertainties rising and the past creeping in... As you approached the towering doors to the castle, you actually considered whether you could do this.

The walk up the sweeping marble steps took a millennium. Untouched, no one had been able to steal their grandeur, though the great doors were still missing. One step over the mighty threshold, two steps, and you had yet to collapse. Three steps, and you were blindsided, barreled into with such force you stumbled.

"Y/N," came Aelin's shaky breath in your ear. She clutched you close, her fingers digging into your leathers. You clung to her in turn, holding her as tightly as you could, breathing in the smell of her, free of blood and iron. "You made it."

"Hi," you laughed breathlessly. "Gods, Aelin. Hi."

And suddenly, everything was entirely right in the world. You were home. You were with your best friend. You had made it.

Reluctantly, Aelin let you go and addressed your company. The Bane, ever having been Aedion's to command, had been given to you in the wake of your return to the continent. You had earned their respect, earned your place as their general. But they were, of course, Aelin's to command. Her arm still around you, she thanked them and dismissed them.

Before you knew it, you'd been swept up to a grand chamber, Aelin with you, to wash and eat. Your head swirled with the welcome, with the shock of being back in this place you'd once called home. She spoke softly, bringing news of Rowan, Chaol, Dorian, Elide, and Manon. She skirted talk of fighting, of that day on the beach, and for that, you were grateful.

"How is Lysandra?" You asked, pulling a comb through your wet hair. The sun was setting, but you would luxuriate in this time with Aelin for as long as she'd allow. "I heard she became a sea dragon."

"She did. That, and more." Aelin laid out a tunic on the bed for you, and it all felt too much like evenings at the Guild, preparing for grand soirées (and murders). "Her and Aedion have finally made up. Thank the gods for that - the tension was borderline unbearable."

Your eyes flicked to hers in the mirror, but only just. You blamed the exhaustion for the way your heart stuttered. "I'm glad to hear it. One big happy family, right?"

She snorted. "Yeah, a right happy home we've got."

A knock came on the door, and a servant entered, summoning Aelin to her council chamber. The young queen groaned, but you saw how she straightened - how the mantle settled on her shoulders in a way that no longer looked entirely unbearable. She turned to you, saying, "You should rest, Y/N. Eat up here, and we'll talk more tomorrow."

You turned to look at her in full, smiling faintly, strained. "Tomorrow."

Your queen disappeared. In the sudden dimness of twilight, you were alone.

But, you supposed, there was a tomorrow. That alone was enough to help you breathe.

~~~

Dawn came too early. Despite your fatigue, you'd hardly slept. First, it was the dreams. Then, it was the contemplation. Would Aelin send you away? What would she have you do in service of her court? Would you even have a place? As a demi-fae of no noble birth and little standing, all you had was your training. Your violence.

You supposed that was worth something.

It was what drove you down to the training yard in the gray light before the sun, moving through the familiar dance of swordwork. Before long, sweat poured down your spine. As the sun rose over the yard, more soldiers came to train, though they hardly had a swordmaster to tutor them. Quietly, you placed your weapons back on the racks and slipped away, unnoticed.

It was down the second stone corridor you turned, then, that you first heard the soft laughter, the hushed tones.

"Isn't it too early for this?" A gasp, a giggle. "Surely there's a better place."

"No one will come down here. Besides, it's never too early for this."

You stopped dead. You knew that voice. You'd know that voice anywhere. You'd heard it in your dreams. You'd followed it in your darkest moments, guiding you home.

You turned on your heel and stalked in the opposite direction, chest aching, as the sounds of Aedion and Lysandra's tryst faded behind you.

~~~

Aelin had called a meeting for midmorning, and you were notified last moment. You were still straightening your fancy new attire - silver, threaded with dark vines - as you entered the privy chamber. It was nearly exactly as you remembered. Eerily exact, as it was. You kept thinking you'd see King Orlon leap out from behind the curtains to say it had all been a cruel jest.

Luckily, you'd had plenty of time to right yourself, as Aedion was embarrassingly late. Though you knew the likely reason why, you kept your mouth firmly shut, instead braiding your hair and reporting to Rowan Whitethorn on the state of the Bane. When that was through, and only then, did the doors open once more, and Prince Aedion swept in, not a hair out of place.

"Forgive the delay, Aelin," he said softly when his cousin gave him an arch look. "There were... urgent matters to attend to in the yard."

Rowan grunted, "Those soldiers need a proper swordmaster."

"Which is why we're all here," Aelin said, as if it were obvious. She was clearly bored with the court business, but she looked between you and Aedion as though she were expecting something... more. After an awfully long pause, she continued. "Now that we're all together again, I figured some rearranging of duties is in order. Aedion, the Bane are yours, should you want them. And Y/N, my Queensguard is yours."

Aedion looked satisfied, but you were rooted to the spot with shock. "Aelin, your Queensguard? Why not have Chaol do it, or something?"

"Because Chaol has his own wife, child, and parcel to handle."

"You're more capable," Rowan chimed. "Wouldn't have anyone else protecting my wife."

"I'd also like you to be my envoy to Rifthold, for the time being." You actually had to take a seat. The closest one was a large armchair adjacent to Orlon's massive, ancient desk. "You know the city - and the affairs of Adarlan - better than any of us. And Dorian asked for you. You're a far better diplomat than I ever was."

"You were simply never a diplomat," Aedion said flatly, but his attention was fixed on you. Had been since he entered the room.

"Thanks, I know." Aelin flipped her hair over her shoulder, perching on the edge of her uncle's desk. "Much more of a decisive type, don't you think? Anyways, Y/N, would you accept both positions?"

You truly had to think a moment. You were reeling, your breath coming shortly. You had feared that Aelin wouldn't have work for you, and now, you were to captain her Queensguard and act as envoy to Adarlan? The responsibility almost seemed too much to take on.

Without thought, you glanced over to Aedion, who was still watching you. You caught his scent as you did so, and the desire to launch yourself into his arms after so long apart, after such hardship, after thinking you'd both die, took your breath away. But he was steady as he watched you, and as he nodded once.

You returned it. Rose, squared your shoulders, and bowed to your queen. "I'd be honored to accept both charges."

Aelin and Rowan shared a glance this time, before Aelin said, "Don't answer right now, Y/N, but there was something else I wanted to ask." You quirked a brow. "If you'd join me, I'd have you as one of my bloodsworn. You've followed me through everything, given up everything for me, and there is no one I can count more loyal than you. I would have you by my side, in all things."

The blood drained from your head, but you felt uncommonly steady. You couldn't give her an answer, but you could reassure her that you weren't going anywhere.

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around her, and she returned the embrace fiercely, burying her face in your shoulder. "My path has always been beside yours. Past and future. Not going anywhere."

Aelin lifted her head, eyes teary and brilliant. "Never again."

Flashes of the smell of iron, the taste of iron, the smothering of iron. Of a cell, of shattered realities, of a white wolf. They haunted your sleeping and waking moments. Had consumed you for so long.

The meeting was, for all intents and purposes, over. After parting, you gave barely a fleeting glance at Aedion, unable to deal with that emotional disaster at present, and strode from the room, already calling for all soldiers to report immediately to the yard.

You had work to do.

~~~

A month had passed, and your life was consumed with dust, sweat, the grunting of fighters, and the clash of steel on steel. You had selected a Queensguard from the soldiers who'd been in the city, but training them was something else entirely. They'd all seen combat in the war, of course, but that didn't mean they even knew how to swing a sword without tearing a muscle. It had been nigh on ten years since Orynth had had an organized militia of any kind. You were starting from scratch.

The men and women you'd selected were, of course, learning quickly. You wouldn't have chosen them if you didn't think them trainable. But they were reaching a plateau, and their progress was slowing. You were spending long hours training under the blistering sun, and even longer hours planning rotations and the coverage of major events in the castle. Aelin needed two guards with her at all times, and given the state of the Queensguard at present, you hardly trusted any of the new additions to protect her without you present.

Aelin's queendom was in its infancy, making it particularly fragile. Anyone could come for her - or the king - in an effort to change the political balance. It was something you couldn't chance, even if both king and queen could protect themselves admirably on their own.

All that being said, it was well into the evening, and you couldn't recall the last time you'd slept more than three hours. Or eaten a meal, actually. You sat back and threw down your quill, rubbing at your eyes. They'd grown weak and scratchy as you wrote by candlelight. The moon hardly helped, casting a silvery glow across the floor of your chambers.

A knock came at the door, and you didn't bother to sit up before calling, "Come!"

"Prince Aedion, Commander Y/L/N," the servant said. A second later, Aedion stepped in, shutting the door behind him in the servant's face.

You were still, watching him from under your brows as he approached your desk.

He stopped before you. "You look like hell."

"Thanks."

"That's a compliment."

"An absolute charmer, you are."

"I only mean to say you've been working hard. Aelin appreciates it."

"I know she does."

He suddenly looked like he was at a loss for words, something he hadn't been around you for... ever.

"Have you slept?" He finally managed.

"Do I look like it?" You gestured to your desk. "Lots to do. And I'm due in Rifthold next week."

"Are you going to take the blood oath?"

You sighed. "Don't you have something more useful to do than interrogate me?"

"I don't, actually," he snapped back, anger sparking. "Nothing more important than making sure you're alright."

"Funny, I thought you had a kingdom to defend. My mistake."

"The Bane are getting well-deserved rest. And thank to you, they're in top shape." He crossed his arms. "You led them well."

"I'd assume you'd know that, considering it was you who wanted me to lead them."

"Only because you needed something to do that would keep you safe."

Silence swallowed you whole as you stared at him. Fury turned your chest cold, your fingers numb. "Keep me safe?"

"You had no business being near the final battle for Terrasen," he snapped back. "Considering what you went through at Maeve's hands, you couldn't have been ready."

"So you sent me to babysit your troops?" You hissed, rising to your feet abruptly. "Are you serious, Aedion?"

Aedion sighed, exasperated. He held out placating hands. "This is going all wrong, Y/N. I'm not trying to upset you. I'm trying to make sure you're okay."

"What, because I was tortured? I can assure you, I'm a big girl. I can handle a few nightmares."

"Because I can hardly believe that you've healed," he nearly shouted. You leaned back. He said, quieter, "Because I know you haven't. You're throwing yourself into work to distract yourself. But it won't work forever."

He couldn't know just how right he was. It hurt, like a raw blister, the way he saw right through you. The way you wished you could bare your soul to him, let him comfort you, let him take care of you. You'd never had that, but you'd only ever wanted it from him. Your jaw was tight with hurt, and with fury.

"I gave you command of the Bane because I needed someone I could trust in the Staghorns. No one else could have earned their respect as you did." Aedion's gaze softened. "And selfishly, I wanted to keep you safe."

"I can take care of myself," you said, rather childishly.

"I know that."

"I don't need you to look after me. Not when you have other people to worry about."

The last had slipped out, unbidden, and you immediately cursed yourself for even saying it. Straight away, Aedion knew. His eyes sharpened, and you were glad to have the desk between you as his eyebrows rose.

"Lysandra," he said simply.

You stared back at him. "It's only natural."

"What? That I... frolicked with her, or that you're jealous of it?"

You scoffed. "'Frolicked?'" Seriously, Aedion? Are we twelve again?"

"We may as well be, for how well I feel I know you right now."

"You've known how I've felt about you for ages, Aedion. I know you have. You're blind, but you're not that stupid."

"Well thank you for that," he said, anger entirely abated. The snark of his remark missed its target. "Honestly, I only knew because Aelin told me."

"She told you back in Rifthold. I know. Before Arobynn was dead. Before I was free of him. Right in the midst of a shadow war." You gave a one-shouldered shrug. "But you always knew me best, Aedion. You had to have known before. But whether you did simply doesn't matter."

"How could it not?"

You straightened under his piercing stare, under the question in his eyes. "Because I have a job to do, and so do you. Aelin will always come before me, and I would never let anything, even you, come before her."

Aedion's mouth curved into a sad smile. "I know that."

Put off by the starkness of his honesty, you added, "And to be clear, I wouldn't be jealous of Lysandra. Her and I have been through enough. She's beautiful, and more than that, she's good. You deserve her."

"Lysandra has gone to Wendlyn."

"What?"

"We... I thought we'd gotten over the deception leading up to you being taken by Maeve, but we hadn't. She requested to leave, and Aelin gave her a job across the sea."

You were dumbfounded. So much so that you had to sit down. Lysandra, Aelin, and yourself had been the only ones to know of your plan to glamour yourself before arriving on the beach that day to greet Maeve's forces. As demi-fae, you had few powers, but one of the strongest was casting glamours. It was part of why you'd been so successful as an assassin at the Guild. Glamoured as Aelin, you'd been the one to be taken that day to Doranelle.

Anything for Aelin. Anything. Always.

Your voice shook as you said, "I will not be your second choice, Aedion."

"I'm not asking you to be," he murmured. "I'm asking you if you're alright."

Nearly. You nearly bent and broke, straight into him. Your mouth wobbled, but you managed to stand straight as you whispered, "I don't know who I am, now the bloodshed has stopped." When he said nothing, you drew a deep breath and continued. "Which means I'll keep fighting until I can sleep through the night."

"That's not how this works," he said evenly, and finally, he reached out, stopping himself just as his fingers grazed your sleeve. "You don't get to do this on your own, Y/N. We've always done this together - let me help you."

"You couldn't understand, Aedion."

And it was true. The things you'd gone through at Maeve's hands, at Arobynn's before her, no one could understand, least of all this prince. But as he touched you, for the first time in years, you felt your will against him falter.

You could have him, you thought. He's right there.

"Let me try," he breathed. His gold-rimmed eyes were desperate, soulful. Full of something you'd hardly dared admit to seeing before. Before Lysandra, when it was just you and him against the world. Desire. Admiration. Love? "Let me take care of you, Y/N. You've spent your whole life caring for us. Let me shoulder the burden, just for a little while."

The space stretched between you and Aedion, infinite. A breath. There was the truth, you realized. And you whispered:

"I'm scared, Aedion."

"I know, sweetheart."

He sensed it before it happened, and was around the desk in an instant, even as you fell back into your chair. Your breath came shortly, your chest crushed beneath the iron vice of memory. You'd failed to realize what it was to be rid of the constant routine of fight or flight, and now, that freedom came crashing down upon you as a wave, crushing your breath into teary gasps of air. Into sobs.

But Aedion was there, perched next to you, drawing you as close to him as he could. He pressed his mouth to your hair, your temple, your cheek, murmuring that he had you. That he was sorry. That Lysandra was only ever a distraction. That he'd loved you since you were children. That he had you. That he wouldn't let you go.

That you were safe now.

When the sobs subsided, you managed to lift your head, to look up at him through bloodshot eyes. He gazed on you fondly, his own eyes limned in silver. His hand smoothed over your hair, a gentle caress.

"You are the strongest female I have ever known," he murmured. "You may feel lost now, but we'll take this on together. Alright?"

"You have some explaining to do," you replied with half-hearted severity. "Frolicking with Lysandra isn't entirely forgiven, I'll have you know."

"Figured it wouldn't be."

"But... Together?"

"As it's always been, Y/N." He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "I swear."

"I'll hold you to it."

"Wouldn't expect anything less from my most fearless warrior."

You smiled, and leaned up just enough to take him by surprise, kissing him softly. With the tenderness of ten years of longing, of ten years of sacrifice and love.

He tasted of beginnings.

[hisui-dreamer]

trial romance

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

Synopsis: since you were going to be put in an arranged marriage anyways, you decided to let yourself experience a normal teenage romance first!

Tags: fluff, slow burn, rent-a-boyfriend mallesu, mutual pining nrc and sra are mixed schools, reader has an elder brother, reader is royalty

Word count: 2.7k+

Notes: woooh sorry for neglecting you mal mal :( i hope this fic makes up for it hehe

Masterlist

You've never really known love.

Born as the second child of a small, but affluent kingdom, you're not sure you have the right to complain. Each day dawns with the assurance of never experiencing hunger, attended to by countless devoted maids catering to your every whim. It's a life of opulence, one that stands in stark contrast to the struggles endured by those grappling with meager wages just to survive.

Still, there remains an ache within you, a yearning for a love that exists in the enchanting tales of old. A love so untainted that it remains steadfast in any circumstance, a love capable of cleansing away all your sorrows, becoming your very reason of existence.

But such a love seems as distant as the stars. After all, you're bound by the responsibilities as the second princess. Unlike your elder brother who inherits the throne, you are a mere pawn in the intricate game of politics, destined for an arranged marriage rather than a fufiling romance.

In a rare display of benevolence, your father granted you a fleeting taste of freedom, sending you off to live under a false identity at the renowned Royal Sword Academy on Sage Island. Three precious years, promising a respite from the constraints of duty, and you promised to seize each moment and savour the life of a normal person who yearned for love.

Which brings you back to the present moment.

"Jellyfish are such fascinating creatures, don't you think so dear?"

The man stands tall beside you, his golden locks catching the ambient blue glow within the aquarium, lending him an almost ethereal air. His emerald eyes fix upon you, awaiting your response.

You return his gaze, captivated by the way the light dances in his eyes. A soft smile graces your lips as you consider his question.

"They are indeed fascinating," you reply, your voice carrying a hint of admiration. "They move with such grace and fluidity, it's like they're dancing through the water."

He hums at your response, fix focus shifting back onto the creatures drifting in the display.

He's a peculiar man, no doubt. It's puzzling to fathom the sort of individual who would boldly advertise their boyfriend rental services on Magicam. Especially someone as strikingly handsome as he appears to be; you would have assumed he'd have no shortage of admirers or suitors.

But you suppose you're not really any better, the person who hired said rentable boyfriend.

Though you're a bit ashamed to admit, you harbor a certain discomfort when it comes to meeting new people. And with your identity as a merchant's daughter, you've had few interactions with your schoolmates, leaving you with a shortage of friends, let alone a romantic relationship.

It was in then that you stumbled upon his listing.

And now, here you are, on your first ever date, exploring an aquarium together.

"Do you mind telling me what dates you're free?" you ask casually as you stroll towards the tropical section, bathed in the vivid hues of exotic marine life.

He trails alongside you, his presence exuding an air of calmness. "Dates...?" he muses, his tone tinged with intrigue. "Ah, you wish to see me another time, I presume?"

You cast your gaze downwards, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. "Yes... I would like that."

He contemplates for a moment, a hint of concern crossing his features. "Hmm... My fees are quite high you see. Your finances may suffer if you spend too much time with me."

"Hmph. You don't have to be concerned. This money has nowhere else to go anyways," you scoff.

His gaze lingers on you with a hint of curiosity, before a gentle warmth softens his features as he nods. "Very well," he murmurs, his hand reaching out to envelop yours in a tender clasp. With a delicate gesture, he presses a fleeting kiss upon the back of your hand, his voice resonating with anticipation, "I look forward to seeing you more often, my dear."

Aquarium Date ✅

First Date ✅

"You seem quite troubled by this book. Is something the matter?" Mal asked, peering over the edge of his book, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

He sat across from you, textbooks and notebooks scattered between you, each page turned with a quiet reverence. The library was bathed in a soft glow, the gentle hum of whispers filling the air like a comforting melody.

You glanced up from your own notes, running a hand through your hair in a gesture of resignation. "I have a test coming up for Magic Analysis, but I always get so overwhelmed with information I forget the details."

"Magic Analysis... Perhaps you're approaching it from the wrong angle," Mal suggested, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "What if we break it down into smaller, more manageable chunks? We could create a study plan together."

The idea sparked a glimmer of hope within you, the prospect of tackling the daunting material with a structured approach feeling suddenly within reach. "That... actually sounds like a good idea," you admitted, a tentative smile forming on your lips.

"Alright," Mal began, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Shall I give you a demonstration?"

There's something to his smile that worries you slightly.

Study Date ✅

The quaint café bustled with life, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the sweet scent of pastries.

Mal's eyes sparkled curiously as he scanned the menu, his fingers tracing the various options with keen interest. "This place is quite charming," he remarked.

You smiled, a flutter of warmth blooming in your chest at his appreciation. "I'm glad you like it. I heard it's one of the best spots in town. Have you decided what to order?"

His brows furrow lightly. "I'm not sure... They all look quite enticing..."

"How about a parfait then? You can choose different flavours of ice cream too," you suggested, gesturing to the other page.

Malleus's gaze followed your gesture, his eyes alight with anticipation. "Ice cream, you say? That sounds delightful," he replied, a spark of childlike excitement dancing in his expression.

You couldn't help but mirror that smile.

Cute Cafe Date ✅

The night stretched out before you like an endless canvas, painted with a myriad of twinkling stars scattered across the indigo sky. Cradled in the comforting embrace of a soft blanket spread out on the grass, you lay your head gently upon Mal's shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath as you gaze upwards.

"It's breathtaking..." you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the tranquil stillness of the night.

His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining in a silent gesture of affection. "The sight never fails to captivate me," he responds, his voice tinged with awe. "I'm often reminded of how quickly time passes when I stargaze."

Lifting your head slightly, you steal a glimpse of his face, illuminated by the ethereal glow of the night sky. "Ah... Fae are known for their longevity, aren't they?" you remark, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of his blonde hair behind his pointed ears. "Is that part of the reason why you became a rentable boyfriend?"

He smiles ruefully. "Partly so," he admits. "My mentor suggested it as a means of broadening my perspective and gaining new experiences.

A giggle escapes your lips. What's with that? To think you're doing this for educational purposes..." you tease, though the chill of reality briefly brushes against your thoughts. "I hope you've at least had fun?"

"Absolutely." He envelops both of your hands in his own, his gaze unwaveringly earnest as it locks onto yours. "My dear, I've thoroughly enjoyed every second spent with you,"

A blush tinges your cheeks at his sincerity, and you respond softly, "It's the same for me. I had so much fun when I was with you,"

You find yourself ensnared by the ethereal presence of the man before you, his proximity stirring a flurry of emotions within you. His face, mere inches from your own, is illuminated by the soft glow of the twinkling stars, their light mirrored in the depths of his serene emerald eyes. Your heart quickens its pace, thumping so loudly in your chest that it threatens to drown out his next words.

"...Can I kiss you?"

You feel yourself nod slightly.

He tentatively closes the distance between you, his movements deliberate yet achingly tender. His hand, warm and reassuring, cups your cheek, his touch sending shivers of electricity dancing across your skin. The scent of night blossoms and distant pine trees fills your senses, mingling with the heady anticipation swirling in the air.

The kiss is tender at first, a tentative exploration of each other, as if testing the waters of this newfound intimacy. But soon, a surge of desire courses through you, fueling the passion that blooms between you. You lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the intoxicating whirlwind of emotions that sweeps you away, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed by him.

The sequence of events that followed remains a hazy blur in your memory, the details shrouded in a fog of uncertainty. All you recall with clarity is Mal's familiar presence beside you as he walked you back to the imposing gates of your school hand-in-hand, just as he'd always done.

Just like clockwork, you retrieved a thick envelope from the depths of your bag, its contents weighing heavily on your mind. "Hold this," you instructed quietly.

He stared curiously at your actions. With a practiced fluidity, you extracted a handful of bills from your wallet.. With unwavering composure, you extended the money towards him, your tone devoid of sentimentality. "This is the bonus for kissing," pressing the bills into his palm.

Leaning forward on tiptoes, you planted a chaste farewell kiss upon his cheek, the gesture a stark contrast to the emotionless exchange that had just transpired. "See you next time," you murmured, before turning away.

Each clack of your heels against the pavement resonated within him like a mournful toll, echoing the hollowness that had taken root in his chest. He watched, transfixed, as the last sliver of your silhouette dissolved into the far distance, the bittersweet echoes of your footsteps fading into the twilight.

Dark, menacing clouds stretched ominously across the vast expanse of the sky, casting an eerie pall over the landscape below. Before you realised it, raindrops cascaded from the heavens in a frensied blur.

Stargazing Date✅

First Kiss ✅

The evening air was cool as he led you through the labyrinthine streets of the old city, the cobblestones whispering tales of centuries past beneath your feet. Towering above you, ancient buildings adorned with weathered stone facades loomed like silent sentinels guarding the secrets of bygone eras.

"This way," he beckoned, his voice tinged with excitement as he pulled you along into a narrow alleyway veiled in shadows.

With eager steps, you followed his lead, anticipation coursing through your veins as you delved deeper into the heart of the historic district.

"You know," you mused, breaking the silence as you walked, "when I said you could choose our next date, I never imagined it would involve a trip to the City of Flowers. Have you been here before?"

"I have," he answered. "I was invited here once. There was a magnificent festival here, but I was more interested in the gargoyles."

"The... gargoyles?" you echoed, casting an intrigued glance at the statues that adorned the buildings around you. "There do seem to be quite a few of them."

"They've watched over these buildings for centuries, warding off evil spirits and protecting those within."

"Really? That sounds fascinating," you murmured. "Would you mind telling me more?"

A smile graced his lips, his eyes gleaming with a unbridled glee. "Gladly," he agreed, his voice reverent. "Each one has a story to tell, waiting to be heard by those who seek to listen."

You listened intently as he recounted the legends surrounding these ancient sentinels, his words weaving a captivating narrative that transported you through time. As you continued your exploration of the historic buildings, he regaled you with tales of the city's storied past, his words painting vivid pictures of times long gone.

Somewhere along the line, night had descended like a comforting shroud, cloaking the city in a blanket of darkness. Now, you found yourselves strolling along the tranquil riverbank, the rhythmic lapping of the waves providing a soothing cadence to your thoughts.

Your three years of time is almost up.

Soon, you'd be back in the confines of your childhood room, the familiar walls suffocating with the promise of the same, predictable routine. Then, like a ship launched by an unforgiving wind, you'd be whisked away to wed the spouse your father had chosen, leaving behind your fleeting moments of freedom and the memories far away in your teenage years.

Mal glances sideways at you, noting the unusual quiet that had settled upon you like a shadow. "Is everything alright, my dear?" he inquires, his voice laced with concern.

You pause, grappling with the weight of your impending confession, searching for the right words to convey your thoughts. Finally, you draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for the revelation to come.

"No... It's not," you confess, your voice faltering slightly as you let go of his hand. "Mal, this... this will be the last time I'm hiring you."

Confusion furrows his brow as he searches your eyes for clarity. "But... why?" he responds, a note of sadness creeping into his tone.

"Because..." you begin, your gaze drifting towards the glistening surface of the river, unable to withstand his earnest gaze. "Because I'm leaving Sage Island. I'll be graduating and returning home, and... and I won't require your services anymore."

"I... see."

A heavy silence descends between you, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a tangible presence. And as you continued your stroll along the riverbank, the knowledge that this would be your final night together lingered like a bittersweet farewell to the memories you had shared.

His Choice Date ✅

Breakup ✅

You've never liked riding in carriages.

With each clop of the horses' hooves, the entire contraption lurched, sending shivers skittering up your spine. It was a waltz of unease, the sway and groan of leather and wood a discordant melody against the cobblestone streets.

The confines of the cramped cabin also felt suffocating, a gilded cage that further severed your connection to your freedom. But the carriage rolled on, carrying you not just through the mountainous terrain, but towards a future you desperately wished to outrun.

Malleus Draconia was your spouse-to-be.

Throughout your school days, whispers of the famed fae prince from Night Raven College echoed in the halls. Tales spun of his unmatched prowess in Spelldrive, where he emerged victorious alone against all teams, his formidable magical abilities casting a long shadow of fear over his opponents. His towering and menacing presence, coupled with the dark horns that crowned his head, only added to the mystique that surrounded him. You could only hope that beneath this formidable exterior lay a heart capable of kindness, granting you the chance for a peaceful existence.

Though, you wouldn't say you could forgive him for having such a similar name to Mal.

As the carriage comes to a halt, the sound of hooves and wheels ceases, accompanied by a palpable sense of anticipation. With the opening of the carriage door, your guards stand at attention, their expressions solemn yet resolute. "Your Highness, we have arrived," one of them announces, his voice carrying the weight of the moment.

With a deep breath, you gather your resolve, steeling yourself for the encounter that awaits beyond the carriage doors.

Just as your foot grazes the carriage step, a gloved hand extends towards you, reaching out towards you with a graceful assurance.. You glance up to meet the gaze of your betrothed, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

His eyes are a familiar shade of emerald green. A shade that's grown to be your favourite, in fact.

"M-Mal?" you stammer, the name escaping your lips before you can stop it.

"It's lovely to see you again, my dear," he smiles, as radiant as the sun.

Masterlist

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[onyourowndaisymae]

an unexpected guest

was talking with a friend about how stressful the early days of living in the hol would be and then i talked about stealing solomon's bed from him and this fic sprung forth from those shenanigans. i just have so much love for the purgatory hall cast

content + warnings: fluff, solomon & reader very early into the exchange program, og timeline, just musing about purgatory hall being a safe space amidst the chaos of the devildom

solomon's tired. truthfully, there's not often he's not tired-- he's just learned to disregard his body's needs when they inconvenience him, only circling back to address they when he has the time or energy. tonight was one of those blessed nights. he'd finished up a new spell after several grueling hours of trial and error. his ancient human joints were creaking like an old house, all weathered and worn from years of neglect.

he crept quietly up the stairs of purgatory hall, drifting through the dorm with light footsteps. everything looked different in the dark. the hardwood floors where warm beams of candlelight illuminated each panel were now bathed in the delicate glow of moonlight. his relationship with the concept of "home" had always been shaky, but this was not. purgatory hall is solid. it is home. the floorboards and the walls are real, tangible, swirling together with pleasant memories of friendships and laughter like colors on an oil spill. this is the best place he's ever been lucky enough to call his own.

the door to his bedroom creaks a little as he opens it, and the lights flicker on with the flip of the switch. the golden tassels on his cloak clink together pleasantly as he strips it off. solomon tosses the garment on a nearby chair when he hears breathing. he tenses. his eyes dart around the room cautiously before he spots the intruder: there's an unidentified lump under his blankets. he steps closer and peers at their face. then he laughs.

it's you. you, the other human exchange student, fast asleep in his bed. you look completely worn-- solomon remembers you had come to purgatory hall per luke's request earlier today. maybe he... yeah, he was right. he finally takes a moment to check his d.d.d. and spots a text from simeon explaining the situation. nighttime fell quicker than anyone expected, and the two angels in the house didn't feel quite comfortable sending you home at such a dangerous hour. since solomon was usually locked in his workroom until dawn, the angel explained that he loaned out his room-- with an apology for imposing, of course. solomon chuckled a little to himself, taking the quiet moment to observe you while you're blissfully unaware.

you got the short end of the stick with the exchange program. that, he knows. the house of lamentation is full of six rowdy demons that all currently look at you like prey, with varying feelings of disinterest to scorn. solomon himself has centuries of experience with the devilish beings, but you're new to all this, aren't you? angels are much less intimidating to a newcomer like you. luke's nothing more than a young angel barking at the heels of his superiors-- said affectionately, of course. and simeon is one of the kinder angels to ever walk any of the three realms, greeting others with the true grace of a divine creature. of course he'd let you stay the night to ensure you don't get gobbled up on the street.

something about that makes him feel... strange. in a good way. to think that you're capable of falling asleep in a stranger's bed so easily, that you're willingly seeking more time at purgatory hall... he'll have to think on what these feelings are.

he fixes the blanket around you and stares for a moment longer. you look comfortable. what a thing to be so at peace in such a hellish place.

purgatory hall can be safe for you. it can be the place where you go when you need a somewhere to land. something about the image of you fleeing the house of lamentation for greener pastures makes him smile-- in a smug, not-so-kind sort of way. serves them right for shoving you, poor defenseless you, into their home with no regard for your wellbeing.

maybe solomon can be a safe haven for you, too. after all, you both are humans-- and humans have to stick together, right?

with the flick of his wrist, all of the lights in the room sudden turn off save for one special candle on his desk. the flame is almost identical to the ones found in the human word, with its mostly even pillar and its warm orange flame. but magic oozes from its melted wax. it's a flame that never spreads, leaving you to enjoy the comforts of solomon's room without worrying. just a little sign that even when he's not there, a certain sorcerer is always looking out for you. he closes the door with a gentle click and heads to spend the rest of the night somewhere else.

[impala-dreamer]

Tourniquet - Chapter Four

A Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards

~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~

Please see MASTERLIST for full info/warnings/chapter links.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The Things She Carried

She hadn’t seen him in years. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. God, she wanted to so badly. She wanted to run into his arms, bury her face in his chest and fall asleep. She wanted to wake up next to him, count each freckle in the golden light of dawn. She wanted it all, she wanted him. 

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to track him down, drive across the miles and land at his doorstep. She couldn’t imagine facing him after so long away, couldn’t bear the thought that he’d cast her away like some old trinket destined for the bin. 

She couldn’t risk it. She was road-weary and drained to the point of constant pain. Every muscle ached; every bone felt hollow and brittle. She was exhausted in her soul. She was done. 

Late at night she would lie awake and stare at whatever ceiling was overhead replaying her life, her choices good and bad. 

Maybe things would be different if she had run away with him when they were kids. Maybe she should have crossed the little stream sooner, hidden with him in the tall grass until they could escape and disappear forever. Would life be so different? Would they be together? Alive? Would the world still be turning if not for the sacrifices he’d made?

What about the sacrifices she’d made? What about all the days she spent alone, holding herself as blood seeped through her fingers? All the times she dropped everything to be there for him, all the days she spent worrying, all the nights she spent giving him whatever he needed whenever he needed it. Would anyone even remember her when she was gone? Would he?

Fuck him. He ruined one of the most important moments in her life. He stole her chance to say goodbye. While she reeled from his kiss, tried to make sense of his affection, the only other man she had ever loved had died. 

He died and she wasn’t there. He died knowing she wasn’t around. 

Fuck him for that. Fuck him for sleepless nights on the phone calming him down, listening to every trial and tribulation of his life. Fuck him for miles spent rushing to his side to wrap her heart around his wounds, staunch the flow. 

Fuck him for every kiss. 

Fuck him for every touch. 

For every fucking moment. 

The boy with the green eyes. 

Roswell, New Mexico, 2015. 

A string of murders of suspicious nature led older residents to announce that the aliens had returned to take revenge on the naysayers and folks there only to make a buck on the sacred landing spot. 

Y/N hadn’t been able to resist such a ridiculous scene and spent a week there investigating. 

In the end, they were just regular old murders committed by a regular old crazy person. No demons, no ghosts, and certainly no aliens were to be found. 

With nowhere else to be, she hung around the desert for a few more days, enjoying the sun and the dry air. 

She almost didn’t answer the phone when it rang, but curiosity had brought her to New Mexico in the first place, so there was no reason to deny its hold. 

Luckily, it wasn’t him. 

It was Sam. 

“Well, if it isn’t baby boy Winchester.” She laid back on the hood of her car and kicked up a knee. 

“Hey, Y/N.” 

He sounded terrible. Lack of sleep or too much stress, she couldn’t tell. She didn’t know Sam as well. Hadn’t studied him as closely, hadn’t learned every tick of speech, the meaning behind every subtle sigh.

Still, he didn’t sound great. 

“What’s going on, Sam?” 

He hesitated, swallowed hard, shifted the phone to his other ear. “I hate to ask you, I know you’re… Well, you’ve got your own thing going on, but-” 

Her eyes closed, her stomach churned. 

“Is he OK?” She couldn’t stop the tremble in her voice and she hated it. 

Sam cleared his throat. “No. No, I don’t think so.” 

“Shit.” 

Last she’d heard through the grapevine, Dean had died, again, and come back as a demon. She didn’t get a call back then, so for Sam to ask for help now- it was bad.

“I think he’d, uh… really like to see you.” 

The eleven-hour drive seemed endless, but it gave her time to think. 

No matter what she did, he would always be a part of her. No matter how far she ran, tried to hide, he would always win out in the end. It was useless to fight it, stupid to even try. 

Sam had given her directions to their place and Y/N stood outside of what looked to be an industrial hobbit hole.  

She leaned on her car and stared at the hill. There was still time to turn tail and hit the highway. He’d never even know she had been there. 

She fiddled with the chain around her neck, sucked on the metal pendant. It was warmed from her body heat though she always believed it got hotter when he was close. 

“Damn it, Y/N/N, just go in…” She groaned and turned away, too scared to go inside. Scared or mad, she didn’t know which. 

Just as she put one foot in the car, the big doors opened and Sam appeared. 

He was tall and tired, with a shadow on his jaw and worry in his eyes. She wondered vaguely if she had ever seen Sam without that crease in his aura, if he’d ever been truly calm and happy. 

“You gonna come in or-”

She sighed and shut the door. “How’d you know I was here?” 

He shrugged and gave her a mischievous look. “I may have been tracking your phone.” 

“What! Sam…” 

He smiled and then pushed at the door, holding it open for her. 

“You coming?” 

“Well, it’d be stupid to run away now.” 

She followed him into the hobbit hole and through another, heavier door. The first room was basically a dark hallway, four steps down from the outer doors and a few paces to the next. The walls were old concrete and the light was dim. She held no hope for nicer things to come. 

She was very wrong. 

Her little gasp echoed when she walked through the second door. The cave-like entry gave way to an expansive room that took her breath away. A wrought iron balcony met intricate stairs that wound down forever. The room below was set up with a large, map-covered table that glowed, antique computers and machines that looked as if they were sourced from a 1950’s horror movie. 

Clasping the rail, Y/N leaned over a bit, trying to comprehend the size of everything but her head hurt. She looked back at Sam and shook her head, eyes wide with awe. 

“You live here?” 

Sam nodded and shrugged. He smiled at her wild wonder and stood beside her at the railing. “There’s more. It’s, uh- it’s a really big place.” 

“Tell me you have a bowling alley or an arcade hiding somewhere in here.” 

He laughed. “No, but we do have a tv. Well, I do. In my room.” 

Y/N whistled, mockingly impressed. “Wow. Real rockin’ bachelor pad, Sam.” 

He licked his lips and looked down at his hands. His knuckles were pale, fingers cold against the metal. “Yeah, well, we don’t get many visitors.” 

She covered his hand with hers and squeezed gently. “Wanna show me the rest?”

The Men of Letters Bunker was just as impressive as he made it sound. They toured the halls while Sam explained how they came to be there, speaking candidly about his grandfather’s reappearance and how strange it was to finally have a real place to call home. 

She listened to every word, now and then offering a kind word or an interested hum. Her mind was reeling at the enormity of the Bunker. She ran her fingers over the dips between the tiles on the walls, listened carefully to how Sam’s voice echoed off of the cathedral ceilings and back again. She counted their steps, tried to construct a map in her mind so that she could find her way back to the front door, but the path was full of turns and every corridor looked the same as the last. The numbers on the doors changed, however, but they weren’t in any order that she could define. 

They stopped in front of door number eleven, and Sam shoved his hands into his pockets. His gaze narrowed on the gap between the door and the jam. The light inside was on, but he knew Dean wasn’t there. 

“This is his room?” she asked, wanting to push her way inside but afraid to pry. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

She placed her hand on the door and closed her eyes. She wanted to go in and wait for him, be laid out on the bed like some porn star when he walked in, but she knew better. 

The kitchen was impressive in an old restaurant that had never been upgraded kinda way, but the pantry was pitiful. Thankfully, there were a few eggs in the fridge and a half of a loaf of white bread on the shelf. Sam left her to it and she got to work making an utter mess of the counter and stove. 

She didn’t expect him back soon and he hadn’t expected to see her at all. 

“Y/N?” 

Her entire being tensed when she heard his voice and she took a breath, closed her eyes, and turned around. Spatula dripping in her hand, she screwed up a smile. 

“Surprise.” 

Every emotion imaginable flowed over his freckled face and Y/N waited for him to process before saying another word. Green eyes worked her over, lingering on the smudge on her cheek and the mess on her shirt. 

Finally, he smiled. 

“Nice surprise.” 

Her body relaxed. “Is it?” 

“Of course.” 

Dean rushed forward, rounding the giant stainless steel island, and scooped her up into a hug. 

Relief trickled down her spine and she wrapped her arms around him, pushed her face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like whiskey and sleepless nights. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He whispered into her shoulder and held on a little tighter. 

He was big and strong, solid and safe. She melted into him; listened for the comforting, steady beat of his heart. 

The necklace burned into her chest and she smiled. 

After a minute, she pushed at his shoulders but he refused to let her go. 

“You’re gonna make me burn your toast!”

He stood up straight and held her arms. “Toast? You’re making a real big mess for toast.” 

She squirmed out of his grip and turned back to the stove. “It’s French.” 

They sat at the little table in the corner and drowned the snack in maple syrup and butter. 

Y/N couldn’t stop staring at him. His face was thin; his beard slowly sneaking out of captivity. His eyes were dark, lined with red, and he held himself differently, as if every second was painful, as if he was having trouble sitting still. 

He was staring just as hard, shocked that she was there after being gone for so long. 

“Your hair’s different,” he said around a mouthful of French toast.

She cocked her head and ran a hand through her locks. “I guess,” she laughed. “It’s been a while since I cut it. Probably should.” 

Dean shook his head gently. “Nah. I like it.” 

It wasn’t even really a compliment but she took it as one. Her stomach flipped and she hated herself for enjoying such a tiny amount of attention. She was older now, wiser, stronger. She didn’t need his approval or his affection. 

“Thanks.” 

“This is…nice. Thank you for cooking.” 

Y/N laughed and choked down a corner. “It’s terrible and you know it.”

Dean shrugged and took another forkful to his lips. “It ain’t that bad.” He shoveled it in and then cringed, plucked a crunchy bit from his tongue. “I… think there’s shell in this one.”

She grinned. “I’m surprised there’s not more, actually. You know I’m a shitty cook.”

He laughed. “Always have been.” 

“It’s kinda my thing.” 

A strange moment passed between them like an autumn breeze. The air was warm but the wind was too harsh, chilling their cheeks. Y/N looked away, crossing her arms and rubbing her hands up the sides. Dean swallowed and sat back; knife and fork in his fists beside the plate. 

“So, how ya been?” 

Y/N looked around, pretending to inspect the kitchen walls, but only trying to buy herself time to think up an answer. 

“Oh, you know me, Dean. Another day, another highway, another monster to kill.” 

He licked a drop of syrup from his lip. “Musta been busy.” 

She nodded. “Yeah, pretty busy.” 

“Too busy to answer a text? Pick up the phone now and then?” 

Her guts churned. “Dean, it’s not like that…” 

He slumped forward, set his forearms on the table. “Oh, it’s like that. You vanished, Y/N/N.” 

His tone was biting and she shivered. 

“Dean-” 

“You just took off. No goodbye, nothing.” 

Anger was brewing inside and her leg bounced uncontrollably under the table. “Dean.” 

“We burned him. Without you.”

Something inside of her shattered. The words cut through her like a scythe; his tone burned like salt in the sliced flesh. She clenched her jaw, closed her eyes, and tried to push it all aside. 

“You left,” he seethed, upper lip trembling and exposing his tiny canine teeth. She always thought they looked like fangs, always loved the way they scraped across her throat. “We burned him and you weren’t there. I- we needed you and you left. You ran away to God knows where and that was it. We needed you, Y/N. I… I needed you.” 

With fists balled, she stood up, spun away from the table. She bit her tongue so hard she was sure her mouth would fill with blood. 

Dean laughed sarcastically. “Yeah. Walk away again. That’s awesome.” 

Her spine twitched. Nails dug into her palms. 

She tasted blood. 

“So fucking good at walking away when people need you.” 

She snapped. 

“Excuse me?” 

Her spin around was so fast, her hands slammed onto the table so hard that Dean startled and dropped his utensils. Unconsciously, he sat back, putting as much distance between him and the lioness he’d just unleashed. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Her words curled but there was no question. She was giving him a speck of a chance to apologize before she truly exploded. “Well… are you?” 

Dean sucked his teeth, crossed his arms, sat forward. He met her gaze head on. His nostrils flared. 

“You left,” he said again, slowly, venomously. 

Y/N pulled in a deep breath but instead of calming her, it only added to the fire. “You didn’t ask me to stay, Dean.” 

He shook his head, confused. “Huh?” 

“You didn’t ask me to stay, Dean,” she said again, injecting as much slashing accusation into her voice as she could. “You never do. You expect me to show up whenever you want me, drop whatever I’m doing to come meet you somewhere so you can fuck your frustrations out on me then kick me out of bed in the morning. Do you know how many bruises I have from tripping over the curb when you drive away? How many nights I’ve stayed awake worrying about you? Praying for you? Not to mention all the nights I had to stay on the phone with you while you blubbered on about this and that, and your brother, and your angel, and your destiny. Do you know how much of my life I’ve spent waiting on a fucking phone call from you? How many days I’ve wasted just hoping you’d ask to see me? You can’t imagine it. You wouldn’t. Because you don’t care.” 

Anger and guilt flooded his face. He swung his legs around from under the table and stood up, towering over her with a puffed chest and searing eyes. 

“You think I don’t care about you?” He hunched his shoulders, leaning down to let it all sink in. “Is that really what you think?” 

She took a step closer. She wouldn’t back down no matter his size or the angry fire pulsing off of him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Yeah, Dean,” she said sharply. “It is. Because it’s fucking true. You don’t give a shit about me, you never have. I’m just a goddamned Band-Aid for you. Something you put on when you’ve got a booboo and then rip off and toss away. And the one time I needed you. The one fucking time…” 

Dean was seeing red; his blood was boiling and brightening his pallid face. 

“When? When the fuck did you need me so badly!” 

She grit her teeth, showed her fangs for once. “He was my father, Dean.” 

He scoffed. “No. He wasn’t.” 

“Fuck you for saying that! He was my father the same as, if not more so than he was yours and he died while I was in the dark wondering how I could help you. You! You fucked me up in that hospital room and then you left me alone to deal with it. And he died while I was in there! He died and I wasn’t there because I was dealing with you!” 

Dean straightened, but he didn’t move to speak. He only absorbed her ire and let it burn inside of him. 

“Always dealing with you! My whole goddamned life revolves around Dean Winchester! And you know what I got for all the care and time and worry I poured into you? Nothing. I get fucking nothing. I have never been so lost as when he died and you… You didn’t ask me to stay. Didn’t… didn’t check on me. The only calls I got were from you begging me to help with Sam and to meet you in Oswego for a fucking booty call. That’s all I am to you. I’m your fucking whore.”

He huffed, chewed his lip. “That is not true!”

She wouldn’t stop, couldn’t. The simple act of raising her voice, of confronting him after everything had opened a tap that she couldn’t close. 

“And you spent a whole goddamned fucking year with her. A year! I didn’t even know if you were alive, dead, nothing. You promised to call me. You swore. And nothing. You went to her. You- did you even think of me? Did you even think, ‘oh, maybe I’ll go be with Y/N for a while’? Well? Did you?” 

His eyes closed. “No, Y/N. I didn’t.” 

“I have given you years of my life and you’ve just… Fuck, I don’t even know if you take me for granted or if you don’t even notice if I’m around or not. I honestly don’t know.”

She turned away, exhausted and aching. 

She couldn’t see the way he rubbed at the curse on his arm, didn’t notice the rage glowing in his eyes. She didn’t feel the danger because she never felt it around him. She could scream all she wanted, but she knew Dean wouldn’t hurt her. 

“If you hate me so goddamn much, why are you even here? Huh? What, did Sammy call you? Tell you I wasn’t doin’ so well?” 

Each word snapped at her like kitchen shears and Y/N spun back around. 

“Fuck you, Dean.” 

As tears fell, she raised her right hand, ready to slap him hard; show him she wasn’t fooling around. 

The Mark swelled on his arm and shot demonic power into his veins. 

Dean grabbed her wrist before she made contact with his cheek and took two steps forward, forcing her backwards into the wall. He slammed her hand onto the plaster and followed suit with her left hand. She gasped, scared but daring him, and he sneered down at her. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Ever. Hit me.”  

The Mark glowed beside her head and she looked from it to him, stuck and devastated. 

“Do you hear me!” 

Strength pulsed through him and Dean lifted her away from the wall only to crush her back into it. 

Her eyes blurred, her head ached; her ears rang. 

“Dean-” 

“You think you know anything about me? You don’t know what I’ve been through! You haven’t been around!” 

His grip tightened on her wrists and she felt the bone in the right twist. 

“Dean! You’re hurting me!”

It seemed he couldn’t stop, wouldn’t let the anger dim. His breath came out in heavy pants through tight lips and clenched teeth; his eyes were like lasers targeting her arteries and setting him up for the kill. 

“Dean!” 

Another tear trekked down her cheek and it caught his attention. 

Dean blinked quickly, clearing his head, and then backed away. He dropped her hands and covered his face, turned his back on her. 

Y/N couldn’t move. 

Silence filled the room and their heads. Guilt ravaged their bodies. 

Her knees gave out and she slid down the wall, slumped to the floor. 

When she could finally speak, her voice was small and pathetic and she hated herself even more. 

“I… I’m sorry, Dean.” 

Calmer now, Dean turned to find her in a heap on the floor and sank down as well. “Don’t be sorry, Y/N/N. I… fuck. Did I hurt you?” 

She shook her head and sat up straight, kicked her knees up to her chest. 

He crawled to her, tried to lay a hand on her knee, but she flinched away. 

“Shit,” he hissed. “I’m so sorry.” 

Y/N let out a hard breath and let her shoulders fall. She trusted him. She didn’t trust that thing on his arm. 

She nodded toward it. “Is it really bad?” 

He rolled up his sleeve and showed off his brand. Curious and horrified, she unfurled herself and leaned in, running a careful finger across the Mark. The flesh was hot, the skin raised and rough. She covered it with her hand and looked up into his face. 

“I can’t take it much more,” he whispered. “It’s gonna take over and I don’t wanna go back there.” 

Her heart hurt. “You don’t have to let it take you. You’re strong. You’re so fucking strong, Dean. So brave. So good.” 

He smiled softly and bent over; kissed her hand. 

“I’m so sorry I hurt you.” 

She sniffed back the tears and reached for him. 

“I coulda just kept my mouth shut,” she confessed. 

Dean lay his head on her shoulder and tugged her close. “No. You shouldn’t have to. I’ll be better, I promise.” 

“You don’t have to be better, Dean.” She turned inwards and pressed her lips to his ear. “You just have to be you.” 

His arms closed a little tighter, he breathed a little slower. 

“I really don’t deserve you, you know that?” 

She sighed and rubbed at the nape of his neck. 

“Shut up, Dean.” 

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[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 29 : Sworn brother

Wukong is still jelly

There was a tense silence veiling the room, only broken by Mei's uncontrollable laughter. MK awkwardly patted her back (to help her, or to stop her was still questionable), sheepishly looking at everyone that watched her as if she was struck by madness, she might as well be, this wasn't a very laughable situation, thought the sage. 

Sun Wukong tapped deep within himself to not let anger overwhelm him, breathing like his master showed him long ago, trying to not tear the peacock to shreds. He could feel the fearful gazes of the lord's servant, all willing to protect him (something that spoke of a good lord) but ultimately afraid of the great sage, too afraid to step forward. 

“I think I might have misheard.” Muttered Macaque, an obvious lie for a being like himself, he cleared his throat and straightened himself. “It's rare for me to misheard, so I'm giving you another chance to repeat yourself.” This was a clear warning, a chance for the foolish peacock to correct his words, to avoid the bloodbath Sun Wukong would unleash upon him. 

“I think I was clear? The deal is simple, I give you the lantern piece, and in exchange you marry me.” Repeated Cheng, hands on his hips, expression amused, as if he was looking at unfocused children. Sun Wukong gritted his teeth, tail lashing on the floor. 

“This is ridiculous!” Yelled the sage, he threw his arms in the air, appalled by the very existence of such a deal, and glared at the peacock. “You can't force someone to marry you because nobody wants to!”

“First of all, I am a very eligible suitor, mind you.” Huffed the peacock as he showed off his trail, the jade-green feathers long and perfectly groomed, the eyes shining like jewelry. “Second, who are you to decide for the Six-eared Macaque? Are you his mate? One of his suitor?”

“I-I'm…” The sage stuttered, face reddening. 

“He's my friend.” Replied the warrior as he glared at the peacock, fangs showing a bit.

“So he's just a friend. He doesn't have a say in this matter then.” Chuckled Cheng, Sun Wukong was trying very hard to not murder him. 

“He's… he’s special.” Weakly muttered the macaque, his own face reddening. The sage's tail swished happily at that, and he restrained the smitten coo tickling his lips. He also ignored the kids’ awing. Yes, he was special. He was the friend that Macaque could kiss, that had to be special. 

“Special? Dear, I do not mind if you're sleeping with the Monkey King, you can even take him as your lover if you want. I am very open minded.” Sun Wukong's face bursted in a furious red, he opened his mouth, but only gibberish came out. Mei's laughter became even louder. Macaque was dumbfounded once again, not any better than the King, his own face rivaling strawberries. 

“Lord Cheng, sir ?” Tentatively cut the scholar once he regained his footing. “I don't think Macaque's relationship with Monkey King is the problem. If I may ask-”

“You may.” Cut the peacock while he turned towards the fumbling scholar. 

“Why do you wish to marry Macaque?” Carefully asked Tang. 

“I need a partner.” Replied Cheng in a huff, as if it was an incredibly obvious answer. 

“Why?”Insisted the scholar. 

“... I guess you people did not come for the festival. Very well, I will explain. The former King of this city, the venerable Thousands-Winged Owl, passed away without siring any children, and without any close family. In his will, he designed the three lords that were in his service, the Stone-eyed Peacock, the Golden-clawed Crow, and the Serpent-tongued Dove, as heirs. For the throne they will compete in what the King called the dawning festival. It is basically a huge party he organized for his death, inviting everyone he knew, and everyone that wished to come. The rules for us lords are simple, we will not be the one competing against each other, it will be our partners. They will compete in three trials, one involving loyalty, the other wit, and the last one strength, nobody except the King advisor knows anything beyond that. The winner will be given the throne.”

“The guy organized a wife battle.” Snorted the dragon girl. 

“In short, yes.” Laughed Cheng. 

“In this case Macaque is not the most suitable candidate for your situation. He is weakened, he will not do well in the strength trial.” Explained the Bull's son. 

“Are you? Now, that is unfortunate, especially for someone as precious as you. I can accommodate you for your stay here if you wish.” Sun Wukong did not like how precious sounded on the peacock’s lips. 

“I… thanks?” Whispered the warrior, unsure of how to take the lord's kindness. 

“Maybe you can marry someone else?”Tentatively proposed his mentee. 

“Hm, do state all of your names and clans.” Ordered the peacock. 

“Hm, I'm Tang? I'm human.”

“Pigsy. I don't have a clan, I'm a chef.”

“Red Son of the terrific Bull clan. Heir to the Demon Bull King, son of Princess Iron Fan.”

“Mei, part of the dragon of the east clan!”

“I'm MK, I'm not sure what a clan is?”

“My successor.” Clarified Sun Wukong with a growl. 

“In that case, I cannot marry any of you. The mortal will be too weak, the chef too. Even if we ignore the fact that you three are kids, I don't want to anger any of your families. And I cannot marry Sun Wukong, he's a King, more powerful than me, if I marry him I'll have to follow him in his kingdom. Furthermore, I can feel his murderous intent.” 

“At least you're aware of it.” Huffed the sage as he crossed his arms. 

“Is it really specified that your partner must be your wife?” Asked Tang with furrowed eyebrows. 

“The will says exactly : the one bound to you by an oath. Marriage is the easiest oath to make.” 

Tang lit up at that. 

“Well maybe sworn-brotherhood can do then!” Exclaimed the scholar. “Normally, sworn-brotherhood does not need any formal oath, but we can do one for this occasion.”

“Maybe, it could work. Who will be my sworn-brother then?” They all turned towards the sage, Sun Wukong stuttered, caught off guard, and turned away. 

“No way!” Shouted the King. 

“Don't make this difficult, King.” Groaned the pig. 

“You are the strongest, the most likely to win.” Retorted the Bull's son. 

“You don't have to if you don't want to.” Calmly replied the macaque, resolution blooming in his gaze. The sage sighed when he caught sight of this unrelenting gaze. He really didn't want to be associated in any way to this bastard of a peacock, but he didn't want Macaque to be associated with him either. 

“Okay, okay, I'll do it. I'll be the peacock sworn-brother.” Grumbled the sage, his voice becoming more poisonous at the word peacock. 

“Wonderful, Sun Wukong is certainly powerful enough to seal my victory!”Cheered the peacock, he turned towards the King and asked : “What are you wearing?”

“Hm, hoodie and sweatpants? With shades?”

“Prosperous! What are you, rat man? Servants ! Give this monkey proper clothing, take him to Bolin, I refuse to let my sworn-brother be anything less than beautiful! We will do the oath when he's ready!” The lord turned away. “Mui!”

“Yes, my lord!” Replied the parrot. 

“Take the rest of them to their rooms, give them anything they ask for, especially our dearest shadow!”

“Of course, my lord.” The parrot, or Mui, bowed to her lord and walked towards the group. 

“Ah Lam! Take the lantern piece! We will trade when the deal is sealed!” One of the tallest guards approached MK and softly reached out, his mentee hesitated a little, but finally relented the piece. The peacock disappeared in his bathroom, aided by a few of his guards to reach it.

Sun Wukong was taken away by the guards, he pushed them away when they tried to touch him, and followed them with a whipping tail. He saw, from the corners of his eyes, Mui guide the group in another direction. 

The guards guided him to a huge wardrobe, filled to the brim with clothes. They bowed before the lavishly clothed demon swan pacing in the room, the man seemingly high ranked here. 

“The lord asked us to properly clothe this man. He is to be the lord's sworn brother.” Informed the guards. 

“Sworn brother? I see… this could work for the will as well.” Muttered the swan as he let his gaze swept over the sage. “He definitely needs a change of clothes. Our Cheng is picky with appearances. Thanks for guiding him here, you can resume your duties.” The guards bowed and left the room, leaving the sage alone with the demon swan. “You are the Monkey King, aren't you?”

“I am.” Replied the King, daring the other demon to do something with his tone. 

“I am Bolin, our lord's tailor. They call you the Handsome Monkey King, let's see if we can bring that out.” The sage gasped, greatly offended, but he didn't have time to complain, Bolin was already pushing him in an adjoining room, one filled with baths. “Girls!” Immediately a flock of four swan younglings rushed towards them, each dressed in white, elegant gowns. “This is Sun Wukong, the Monkey King. He is to be our lord sworn brother, so let's make him shine like a diamond!”

“Yes, father!” Replied the swan younglings, each with utmost seriousness. 

“Monkey King, sir, what type of fur do you have?” Asked one of the younglings as she intently eyed his sun colored fur, she was a bit skinnier than the others. 

“Short type? I don't have a thick underfur.” Mumbled the sage, a bit caught off guard by their seriousness. 

“I think monkeys are more used to grooming. Can a bath damage your fur?” Asked another, a bit shorter than her sisters. 

“Grooming is for the twigs and bugs. I can take a bath.”

“Perfect !” 

They ushered him to one of the steaming baths, one with lukewarm water according to Bolin (to not damage his fur, they said). Fortunately, they gave him the privacy to change behind a folding screen. He awkwardly removed his clothing and hid his manhood with a white towel he tied on his hips. When he stepped out of the folding screen, they waved him over and made him sit before the bath. They groomed him with a soft brush, untangling all of his knots while Bolin was looking over products and asking some questions about his coat. When his fur was well-groomed (from the tip of his tail to the edge of his toes, they always asked if he was comfortable with touch before grooming a particular area, something the King appreciated), he lowered himself in the bath. 

They added some good-scented products in it, and perhaps some oil that made his coat shinier. The younglings massaged him while he was bathing, delicately treating each of his strands of fur as if it were a treasure in itself. He learned their names while they treated him. The one massaging his shoulders, and doing a wonderful job at it, was Bo, she was seemingly stronger than any of her sisters, and on the brasher side. The skinnier one was named Hua, she was the most knowledgeable when it came to fur care, she did most of the grooming earlier. The shorter one was named Ping, she was the most leveled of the flock, and the most respectful, always asking for his boundaries and reminding her sisters to ask as well. The last one, the rounder one, was named Shu, she was quieter than any of them, and from what he gathered she was the most skilled when it came to make-up. She did ask him what colors he liked, and what he was comfortable with, which he appreciated. 

Once washed and oiled, they dried him with fluffy towels, asking now and then if everything was alright. He was then sitted in a comfortable chair, before a silver mirror. They sharpened his claws, whitened his fangs, oiled his lips and delicately cut his fur to make it even. His eyebrows were brushed and straightened, and the heart-shaped patch of fur on his chest more defined. Once they stepped back, he blinked at his reflection. The glamors he applied on a daily basis were certainly at play, but he looked good. His fur had never been shinier and softer, it looked like the sun itself blessed him. Sun Wukong admired the man in the mirror for a bit, before following Bolin out of the bathroom. 

The swan talked with one of her daughters, Ping, to know what sort of colors would suit him better while the others asked what he was comfortable with, according to them one could only truly shine when they liked what they were wearing. They settled on a peach colored hanfu embroidered with lotus flowers, one he found particularly pretty, with a red slashes. After they dressed him, Shu took care of his make-up while Bo picked jewelry to adorn him. 

Once he was ready, he looked at the man in the mirror and had to restrain his purr. Those swans certainly knew how to dress someone, he almost felt like some sort of deity blessed with heavenly beauty. 

“You look good, Monkey King, sir.” Praised Ping as she softly adjusted his slashes. 

“As expected of the Handsome Monkey King.” Chuckled Bo as she puffed out her chest. 

“You all did a good job.” Muttered the King with reddening cheeks. 

“Alright, girls. I will escort the Monkey King to our lord, clean the room.” Cut Bolin, the swan younglings all sung “Yes, father!” before disappearing in the bathroom. 

Sun Wukong followed Bolin out of the room, they walked in a peaceful silence towards the dining room (when Bolin asked a passing guard, they told him the group was there), their steps echoing in the corridors. The servants that passed by them always made an effort to bow at Bolin, Sun Wukong could see the deep settled respect in their eyes when the swan returned their greeting with a short nod. 

“Are you really just a tailor?” Asked the sage after a bit, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

“I am. Our lord value apparences a lot.”

“He's vain.” Grumbled the sage, his anger sparking anew at the mention of the lord. Bolin looked at him with a raised eyebrow, before letting out a soft chuckle. 

“I know our lord can seem…particular. But he's not bad.”

“I have trouble believing that! He was ready to force someone to marry him.”

“Hm, for the will.” Mumbled the swan. 

“If he wants the throne so badly, he can take it for all I care, but he can't involve others in this.” Huffed the King. 

“... The marriage would have been temporary.” Explained the swan, his tone a little harsher than before.

“Still.” Bolin stopped walking, he turned towards the sage, a storm brewing in his eyes. 

“I know Cheng doesn't seem like the most caring, and mayhaps he offended you in some way. But I will ask you to not talk about our lord in this manner. He is to be your sworn brother, you will see then what kind of person he is.”

“Yeah, I'll see.” Replied the King, tone a little bit softer. He didn't want to offend Bolin, but the feeling brewing inside of him, the ugly beast called jealousy, pushed him to be spiteful towards Cheng. The sage wasn't used to this feeling, thus he had troubles to reign it. 

The rest of the walk was more tense, both decided that silence was better if they didn't want to argue. The dining room was filled with watering smells, all kinds of plates and food, some the sage never even knew existed. The whole group was eating leisurely around a lavish mahogany table, they all turned towards him when he arrived. Bolin bowed to Mui, who was at Macaque's side, and left the room with elegance. 

“Wow, you look good Mister King!” Chuckled the dragon girl. 

“Thanks. I feel good.” The sage turned towards the warrior, who was gaping at him with a flaming face, eyes wide, hands frozen before his plate of mangoes. Sun Wukong felt a pleasant tingle skim above his kin, he walked, deliberately slowly, towards the macaque and sat on the unoccupied chair on his right. He relished in the way Macaque's eyes roamed over him, stuttering for a moment on his hips. “You have something to say, Mac?” Asked the King. 

“What? I, hm, I-I, what ?” Stammered the warrior, his tail trashing the chair's legs. The kids were choking on their own laughter, while the adults were either rolling their eyes or smirking openly. 

“You lost your tongue?” Purred the sage as he leaned over the other, Macaque almost fell out of his chair, his hands tightly gripping the table. Sun Wukong wanted to keep teasing him, but he had to stop once the peacock arrived. 

Cheng was dressed in red, the cloth flowing around his figure like a river of blood, striking against his jade feathers. He had an ebony cane in his right hand, something he used with ease to navigate. He sat in the tallest chair, the one made of pure gold.

“I hope everything was alright for you. I will accommodate you to the best of my ability until the end of the festival.” Started the peacock. “Now, I cannot see you, Monkey King, but I trust Bolin did a wonderful job.” Cackled the lord, Sun Wukong wanted to retort, but unfortunately Bolin did, in fact, a good job. “Concerning this deal of ours, I want it to be clear. Sun Wukong is to aid me as my sworn brother during the dawning festival, of course he will try his best to win, but even in case of defeat, I will give you in exchange the lantern piece you desire.” The sage was quite surprised by the terms, particularly because he wasn't even obliged to win the festival, it almost felt like a trap. “Of course, I will not give you the lanterne piece if I feel that the Monkey King is insincere, and does not do his best to give me victory.”

“... I accept the terms.” Sighed Sun Wukong, he groaned when he caught sight of the blooming smirk on the peacock's lips. 

“Wonderful! Now, for this oath of ours… Normally I believe sworn brotherhood is only made with a promise, but we will need a formal oath that binds us.” The lord sat up and walked towards the sage, his hand tracing the edges of the table to guide himself. Sun Wukong raised himself once Cheng stopped before him, they stood in a tense silence for a second, thoughtful, and then the lord offered his hand. The sage grimaced, and reluctantly took the bird's hand. “I, the Stone-eyed Peacock, Cheng, will take Sun Wukong, the Handsome Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, as my brother. As long as he wishes, I will treat him as my blood and flesh, as my friend. I swore on my name and my honor, that I will see in him my own.”

An oath, for demons, was a matter of honor. It was one of the ultimate promises, made with witnesses. Losing honor was a fate no demons wanted, it was worse than death itself. 

“I, the Intelligent Stone Monkey, Sun Wukong, will take Cheng, the Stone-eyed Peacock, as my brother. Until we both gain what we want, I will honor him as my friend. I swore on my name and honor, that I will see in him my brother.” They shook hands before the eyes of Cheng's servants and Sun Wukong's friends, sealing their promises. In the end, an oath was nothing but words, what mattered was what those words meant for the two parties involved. 

“Well, now that this is sealed. If you ever need something, Mui, there, will serve you.” The parrot demon nodded to them, her colorful feathers shaking with her nod. “The festival starts in one week, we do not know the kind of trials that await us. I will not force you to do anything, brother (Wukong cringed at the word) as I know your abilities. But it will be better for us if you follow me to the library. I want you to know what kind of opponent you will go against.” The sage was ready to refuse, not wanting to go anywhere with the other, but Macaque cut him before he could even open his lips. 

“Mui told me you had a lot of books regarding shadows in this library of yours.” Cheng turned towards the macaque (or at least his general direction) and his smile widened, Sun Wukong did not like this look. 

“Yes! I do! Shadows are fascinating. You can accompany me, and Sun Wukong if he accepts to follow, to the library ! I'm quite curious about you, after all.” Macaque rose from his seat, perhaps ready to follow the peacock, but Sun Wukong immediately went in-between them, tail lashing. 

“Let's go to this damn library.” Grumbled the sage, Macaque looked at him with a raised eyebrow, while Cheng tried to hide his chuckle in the crook of his claws. They nodded towards the other (Cheng took back his cane) and they walked away, the sage made a point of walking in-between the two, allowing absolutely no contact. 

“Jealousy does not suit you, brother.” Snorted the peacock. 

“I think you better shut your mouth right now if you value yourself, brother.” Spat the King, a growl echoing in his tone. 

“Can't you both be civil? We're gonna be here for more than a week.” Sighed his moon as he rubbed his forehead. 

“I'll try, but he's really fun to tease, dearest.” Snickered Cheng. 

“Do not call him like that!”

“See, he's fun.” Cackled the peacock, Sun Wukong wanted to bite his head off for daring laughing at him, for daring even breathing in his direction.

“This is gonna be a hellish week.” Grumbled the warrior, and Sun Wukong couldn't agree more. 

[dramioneasks]

Top 10 Most Favourited (Completed) Fics on FFNET of 2022:

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[wishsparkleemoji]

Sky iceberg tier 2: Assembly braids

Full iceberg

Nintendo playground: In the golden wasteland lobby, just past the closets, there is a locked gate which won’t open unless you or a friend you’re holding hands with has one of two specific capes on (like the Office). If you or your friend do have one of the capes, you can enter the playground— which is an area that locks the camera so you can play in “2D” (there is an option to turn it to 3D in the level). The capes are available to buy to anyone playing on switch.

The war: If you’ve spent any time looking at Sky’s lore, it is fairly clear that, at some point, there was a war. The general themes of the golden wasteland (spirits, elder, the battlefield), the Aurora concert (the seed and eyes of a child), the consistent sword and shield imagery… something definitely happened here, though it’s unclear what.

Megabird: In Orbit, if you look up at the sky, there are a bunch of stars— many of which forming what looks to be a birdlike head. You can see it more clearly during the credit sequence. This is believed by many to be an entity known as the Megabird, who is basically the god of this world— the one who created everything.

Eggs in boneyard: To the right of the broken bridge, there is a tree that has some light blue eggs in its top.

King/Prince: An entity/entities which appear(s) most in concept art and the statues from the battlefield in GW. Very little is known about them, apart from them being the king of Sky at some point before the events of the game— completing the trials of prophecy and henceforth becoming ruler. It’s unclear if the King and Prince are separate entities. It’s a common theory that they were a skykid, or the first skykid, hence why the trials were easier for them. Their concept names are Alef for the Prince, and Resh for the King (more on that later).

Darkstone: Darkstone is most present in collecting it during the Season of Abyss and activating some doors, and has been theorized to be the downfall of the kingdom of Sky, acting as a metaphor for climate change and nature vs technology. It has been theorized that this is what caused the war— the Isle, Prairie, and Forest not wanting to go further, while Valley, Wasteland, and Vault wanted progression. It has also been proven to originate from what looks to be sucking the Light from light creatures, primarily mantas presumably.

Constellation: In the “Concert in the Light” album, the song that plays during the credits can be found, so people can finally listen to the song on platforms other than YouTube (though the official version cuts off the second half, only including the part with Aurora’s vocals). In this album, the name of the song is “Constellation”.

Elders’ old names: In concept art, the elders all had names based off Hebrew letters. In order from Isle to Vault: Daleth, Ayin, Teth, Samekh (sometimes Sah for one and Mekh for the other to differentiate, but they share the name), Tsadi, and Lamed. They’re also sometimes referred as the time of day their realm represents: Dawn, Day, Rain, Sunset, Dusk, and Night.

Light Awaits: An early version/prototype/beta of Sky, before it was released as what it is now.

Chinese servers: Like many multiplayer games, China has their own version of the game with its own servers, and a slightly different way of running things. Based off some discord messages, they might choose the traveling spirit based on what the community wants rather than it being random, and have different events.