#he’s not doing it on purpose he was born and raised here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arthenaa · 3 months

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a daffodil's camellia— ominis x gn!reader

summary: you think your purpose has always been to love him.

warnings: angst/no comfort, arranged marriage, indirect exclusion, HEARTACHE, unrequited love, reader is kinda a pushover but its bc of generational trauma guys !!! imelda is a great friend, the imelda bias here is unreal so sorry im just projecting, ableism behavior guys bc these mfs are too privileged, i am fr trying to break ur heart ig. NOT PROOFREAD im lazy.

note: HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!!!! i slept on this mb,,,,, the angst ominis fic that i talked abt last time but didn't upload until now .... oc cameo from @localravenclaw and @esolean !! (Ren and Lydia) hope u guys enjoy this! anys have fun reading

All your life, you think that this was what you’ve been born to do.

It’s engraved in years of tradition and history, a role you had to partake in the moment you came out of the womb. It was predetermined that your fate would end up in this situation.

Purity was an important factor for the historical families of the Wizarding world. Those who had come down from powerful bloodlines consider the tradition of keeping the family pure a sacred tradition of their power and authority over society.

A pedestal created from years and years of bloodshed to hone the perfection of wizardry and magic today. You suppose it was only an act of gratitude to be part of a long-lasting dynasty that preserved the sacred power of your ancestors. You know it’s an honor to be tasked with this role—to be given the duty of creating more branches for future generations.

You should know because this was what you were born to do.

Born and raised to be a bridge for other Pureblood families to lengthen their authority and claim over their self-built thrones. They say it’s a privilege—to be part of a family descended from the Great Four or just have connections with them through their ancestors’ relationships.

To be pure is to be great.

To be pure is to live a life filled with luxuries.

Opportunities are immediately given with just a snap of their fingers. Their authority precedes those whose blood is stained with the lesser. You’d think living a life of a pureblood would just entail all roses and gold.

Y/N would beg to differ.

“Keep your head bowed and hands on your lap,” Your mother’s voice is ever so cold. The carriage rustles with each bump against rocky terrain. You suppose it's about time you've gotten used to her tone but the booming surprise of her voice has a way of sinking its claws deep within your small heart. As a child, obedience was the foremost value you learned to be of importance. You knew that if you flick your head slightly off angle to your usual disposition due to an interest in your surroundings or the people around you, you would only get the receiving end of your mother’s wand. You knew that you'll be locked down in that dreaded abyss if your bow stuttered due to a misplacement of your foot in front of other pureblood families.

At a young age, you knew enough to not make a mistake.

Born third to the Rosier family's eldest son, you knew that your duty was to form connections—Marry off into other pureblood families and create the next generation of talented pureblood wizards. Wizards have the natural right to take what’s theirs because of their authority over society. A vision that threatens those beneath them.

So you keep your head bowed and palms tucked nicely on your lap with one palm over the other. Your mother is a cold and moving force beside you as you tried to match her pace despite your small little legs. At the age of 7, you are brought by your mother for marriage negotiations.

“Your husband will be an esteemed member of the Gaunts,” You remember your father declaring over tea. He sits menacingly in the front of the table, the glow of the flames behind him making his figure all the more unreachable. You know to only nod and not question any further. He makes a point by knocking on the wooden surface of the long dinner table that seems to stretch farther with each day. You wonder if the spaces beside you will ever be filled. You turn to him at the beckoning of your attention. “You listen carefully to your future husband, child. I cannot afford another failure.”

His words engrave deeply within your poor meek heart. You know that if you deny it, you’ll suffer the same fate that of your older sister—the one who tried to get a glimpse of the love and normalcy she desperately wanted yet ended with a tragedy.

You remembered that day in such vivid detail—the cold looks of your parents as they looked down at the state of their eldest daughter, who bawls and claws at any sort of reaction from the still and lifeless figure of her former lover.

So just like the obedient perfect child that you are, you nod and bow—subservient to the influences of those who claim to be wiser than you. You can only do so much to control your faith so alas, you let go and let the others hold the reigns.

That is until you meet him.

You were faintly aware of what he looked like. A boy with eyes as bright as the clouds, hair so smooth—so blonde that it gleams perfectly in the sunlight, and moles that litter his face, mimicking the night sky. These were murmurs of him from the servants in the halls of your manor. They say his beauty is compared to that of Rowena Ravenclaw and his demeanor spoke true as a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. However, there were also whispers of his only flaw.

“They say the young lord does not see.”

You wondered before how true the nature of the gossip of the young lord was when you took your first step inside the Gaunt estate, but now, as you stand before him who seems detached from the world with his eyes as dull as the morning sky on a rainy day, you suddenly make a conclusive remark about him.

He was truly a sight to behold.

“This is the young Lord, Ominis Gaunt," His mother declares proudly from her place, chest puffed and earrings dangling from the heaviness of the jewels that clung tightly to their placements. His father stands idly and lets his wife do all the matching. Your mother only smiles, placing a firm hand on your back—reminding you of your duty.

You bow with the elegance that of a noble—A move you’ve honed to perfection from years and years of teaching and practice. You rise back up with the same pace, eyes peering up at him from your lashes. He only seems to daze off into the distance.

“This is Lady Y/N Rosier. We’ll serve you well.”

The silence is unbearable.

You think that maybe after the taxing interaction with the grown-ups and being able to interact alone with the young lord would allow you to finally discover his true personality.

That, however, continues to be a difficulty.

"Do you like fencing, my lord?" You ask, trying to break the ice as you sit across from him in one of the receiving rooms of the Gaunt's huge manor. "Or perhaps history?"

"Stop asking." He replies curtly, stance devoid of interest. You continue to dig deep into that shell of his, hoping that your incessant need to make conversation would crumble the defensive walls he put up.

"I hear you're quite skilled in astronomy, my lord—"

"Don't call me that."

"What do I call you then?" You perk up, cheeks gleaming with a smile. The furrowing of his eyebrows only digs deeper.

"It appears that I am an avid fan of silence. I suggest not speaking at all," For a 7-year-old, his voice is cold and authoritative. You suppose it's because of his closeness to the Great Four that he is granted with such ability to freely talk however he wants. Your eyes glimmer in awe.

"I just want to get to know my future husband," You retort, trying to make sense of your fiance. You pout like a child, feet swinging back and forth—allowing yourself a moment of reprieve from the stiffness of tradition. "Mother says it's customary for us to be familiar with one another at a young age to establish proper connec—"

His hands slam hard at the wooden surface of the table in front of you. You flinch, a bit surprised by his sudden show of strength. You admit that maybe you've gone a bit too far with the questioning, but it was all for a good purpose anyway! You two are to be one in due time. So, what was so wrong about getting to know him?

You wonder if you'll ever be like him someday. To carry himself in such a stance that he doesn't need to nod or bow to anyone. He tilts his head in the direction of your voice, face contorted into a glare.

"I'll be on my way," He murmurs, voice calm, and yet his disposition evokes anger and frustration. You watch him with bated breath as he walks towards the double doors, the servants bowing and opening it for him with ease.

You know that this should be the final nail in the coffin. To detest the boy you'll soon marry as he turns into a man whose values and inhibitions clung onto him like a wolf who won't release it's jaws onto prey. You know and yet your fingers crumple the fabric of your skirt, eyes looking forward to your next meeting.

The next time you meet him is over tea. It was the turn of the Gaunts to visit your manor as dictated by the tradition of courting within noble houses. You've practiced this scenario over and over. Countless of times alone, with your governess, and with your mother. It's engraved within the depths of your mind as the wounds of the past sting with each sip of your drink.

Act like a noble. Drink like a high-born. Be a pureblood.

The thoughts ring harshly with each thump of your beating heart. Your fingers twitch, and your form stiffens—all for the sake of tradition. The words branding the forefront of your mind as you feel the intensity of your mother's gaze.

I have to do good. I need to do good.

"Your estate is a wonderful place, Lady Rosier," The Gaunt Matriarch addresses your mother with an esteemed elegance—to which your mother only responds with a courteous smile, a part of her façade.

Your mother never liked purebloods but she respected tradition. She smiles and bows in front of her peers but mocks and beseeches them in the comfort of her room.

You don't understand your mother but as a young child, validation from her was the only thing you ever wanted.

And so you try.

"It's all due to our ancestors' hard work in keeping the Rosier history alive through the manor's architecture," You respond, lips contorted into a gentle smile. The Gaunts seem impressed by your interest in the conversation and from the corner of your eye, you see your mother shift in her seat.

"I see," Lord Gaunt eyes you with a glint of interest in his eye, and he shifts his attention to your parents. "Lord and Lady Rosier, you've raised a daughter worthy of her blood. I applaud you."

Your mother smiles and for the first time, you feel your heart thump at the recognition of doing good. She then responds, "As they should be. It is their role to be worthy and I'm sure she'll be a wonderful spouse to the young master."

Your attention then shifts to the quiet blonde sitting idly in his seat. His face is stone cold, eyes dull, and fists clenching the material of his seat so hard it turns white.

Anger was the first emotion you've seen on Ominis's face.

You wonder if you'll get to see more.

"Aren't you excited?"

You squeal, influenced by the utter joy of finally attending school. It's your first year.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where most wizarding families are built and made from. Many of your relatives built their name from their experiences as a student in Hogwarts—after all it was in your blood to be ambitious. To dream of the impossible and achieve it by any means. That's why your family house dons the colors of green and silver—a direct allegiance to the house of Slytherin, that of which many of your blood relatives reside during their time as a student.

While being excited about Hogwarts was already a given factor as a child of magic, there's also one thing you're most excited about.

"Stop bouncing about, Y/N," Ominis grumbled as he heaved his bag over his shoulder. "We still have to find our damn car."

Your relationship with Ominis did progress in some ways. He's less grouchy now and tolerates your personality enough to let you stay by his side. You've gotten used to its indifference but you think that it's good progress with how he talks more with you albeit still with glares and a cold demeanor.

He pays you no mind as he traverses through the narrow pathway of the train with the guide of his wand. You follow closely behind, hands carrying your suitcase as Ominis guides you to your assigned car.

"I can't help it, I'm literally bursting with energy," You whine as Ominis finally reaches your destination, slides the door open, and places his things inside. He plops down to the farthest corner and leans back to rest. You immediately claim the seat next to him to which he grumbles.

"There's plenty of seats for you to take," He scowls, gesturing to the empty seats in front of you both. You only giggle as you snuggle up next to him.

"Oh don't be such a stone-faced troll, Ominis!" You whine, slapping his arm. He tenses with anger at the gesture. "It's natural for me as your fiancée to be as close to you as possible."

"Stop calling yourself that," His eyebrows furrow in annoyance, jaw clenching in anger. You roll your eyes, not minding his hostility.

"But I am though?"

"I swear to Merlin's name and everything he holds dear, if you don't—"

The slide of the door halts your conversation as your eyes and his head flick toward the sudden disturbance. Two brunettes pop in, one seemingly looking like a direct copy of the other. They blink, eyebrows raised as they stare at the two of you.

"116?" The boy asks with an awkward smile. "Are we interrupting something?"

You pull yourself slowly from Ominis's space at the prospect of new friendships. You smile. "No worries, just a lovers' quarrel. I assume you're the ones we'll share the car with?"

"There is no lovers' quarrel." Ominis firmly states. The two purse their lips in slight hesitance. "Please, do join us though. Merlin knows I need it."

The two then make their way to sit in the remaining two empty seats, placing their luggage in the compartment under. You smile as they settle down in their seats, bright smiles plastered on their faces.

"Right," The boy starts. "Uh, I'm Sebastian Sallow and this is my sister, Anne. It's nice to meet you both."

You nod excitedly at the introduction, delighted to make friends at the present opportunity.

"I'm Y/N Rosier," You respond. You then gesture to the blonde next to you. "And this is Ominis Gaunt, my fian—"

"Friend." Ominis cuts through, overpowering your voice. You turn to him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. "They mean friend."

The twins glanced at the two of you, puzzled by the shifting of the balance in your dynamics. Anne breaks the silence.

"Well, we'll be spending quite a long while here, I hope to make your acquaintance," The Sallow girl beams. Sebastian nods at his sister's words while Ominis responds with a hum of agreement.

There's not much to say when the group falls into silence once more. The four of you were strangers after all, still not used to the presence of someone new but the feeling is welcomed.

Your eyes glance at Ominis who seems to have been resting his eyes, leaning his head against the wall—waiting for the train to begin its course. The corner of your lips curl up at his iridescent beauty.

The train sounds its whistle beginning your journey.

"Are you dumb?"

Imelda blatantly states as she stares at you with disinterest in her eyes. She takes a bite of her apple. "Or just purely ignorant of what's actually happening?"

On your 3rd year at Hogwarts, you somehow get grounded to reality through the presence of Imelda Reyes.

You suppose it's all in due time that you'd be awakened from the trauma-inducing nightmare of tradition and sacred rules of your family. The need to fulfill your role. To give Ominis a home he needs, a family he wants, and a lover he deserves. You suppose that your role overshadowed your judgment of his character and behavior.

You had gotten used to it. To his blatant ignorance of your efforts, the glares, sarcastic comments, seething scoffs, or the fact that sometimes, he doesn't see you at all.

He's always like this, you think. You were never bothered by his indifference. You believed that you could love him enough for the both of you.

You were stupidly wrong about that too.

Sebastian and Anne are terrific company. After being acquainted in your first year, your little group had been formed then and there. The two of them stayed for the past 2 years and you were truly grateful for them. However, the twins were mostly close to Ominis. You didn't mind the gaps between you and the siblings seeing as you prioritized your relationship with Ominis more than anything.

You never really considered it to be a bad thing.

That is until Imelda begins to scratch at the surface of your finely built walls.

You purse your lips, minding your own business as you continue to sew a new stitch into the stretched fabric. You were unfortunate enough to share the dorm room with Imelda and while you enjoyed the rambunctious' Slytherin Quidditch Captain's companionship, this was certainly not something you'd rather talk with her. Everything was fine and there was no need to nitpick at every detail.

Your needle pokes through the hole, goes in, then out—thread sliding swiftly in the path you've carved out for it.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Imelda," You try to deflect her inquisitive nature. She rolls her eyes.

"It's just–" She pauses to readjust her position, leaning forward to rest her arms on her knees—she eyes you with keen interest. "I'm truly amazed how you've gone 3 years with him."

You glance up at her with furrowed eyebrows. "Stop speaking ill of Ominis."

Imelda lets out a loud laugh at your response. "And you even dare to defend him? Are you sure you're not dumb?"

You forcefully drop your sewing tools on your lap as you heave a sigh at her words. You turn to face her fully. "What do you want?"

"Why stay?" She responds, direct. She takes another bite of the apple.

There's a momentary pause of silence as the question rings in your mind. You had half a mind to just drop the conversation and leave but some part of you somehow wanted to defend yourself.

"He's just Ominis. He's always been like that," You respond, chest puffed in self-proclaimed confidence. "We grew up together. We're promised for each other. That's all I need—"

A sudden burst of laughter from Imelda catches you off guard. You flinch in surprise as you watch the brunette Slytherin double down in laughter. Somehow, the clawing feeling inside you becomes more prominent with each giggle and huff from the woman's lips. Your nail begins to scratch at the skin of your thumb.

"H-Holy shit," Imelda sighs in laughter, brushing off a stray tear. She giggles a few more times before finally settling down with a smile. "You're worse than I thought."

She tilts her head with a condescending look on her face.

"Have you ever seen him with the twins? Alone?" She asks. That sets off wave after wave of uncomfortable thumping within your chest. You let out a shaky breath. "I suppose you don't because you're always so focused on your dearest fiance—Actually, y'know! If you just tried to properly look at him. Maybe, just maybe, you'd finally get a grasp of yourself."

Your jaw clenches and palms sweat.

"Stop it." You try to get a hold of yourself. To take control of the situation and get a grip on your thoughts that seem to get more and more chaotic as time passes. However, despite your tries, Imelda overpowers you once more.

"Y/N," She leans forward to rest her arms on the wooden surface of the table. "Maybe, you don't know much about him at all."

Your eyes are locked on hers at the prompt of her words. You can't bring yourself to deny despite the flurry of emotions bursting within you. She tilts her head and gives you a sympathetic look.

You walked out with no response.

On your 5th year, the presence of a new student shook the halls of Hogwarts.

It was uncommon, of course, that a wizard would get admitted at such a late year and while the idea of a new 5th year would turn a few heads in curiosity, this was not the only source of attention.

Over the course of the first few days back to school, you hear talks of the new 5th year's incredible feats of surviving against a dragon attack. There were exaggerations, of course, and different variants of the story with how widespread the gossip had reached, but it all reached the same conclusion at the end.

This new girl had already made her mark as a formidable wizard.

You admired her at first, wanting to know how she did it and what brought on such circumstances. However, there was a slight uncomfortable nagging deep within the depths of your heart at your first meeting. While you felt regretful of such impression despite her kind deportment, you still felt uneasy at the arrival of her presence.

It was probably partly because of Anne's leave of absence since the start of your 5th year. Sebastian was quite privy to the details concerning Anne's sudden absence. You knew she was sick, but other than that, you were quite left in the dark. You convinced yourself that maybe Sebastian feels conflicted when talking about it, and his sudden avoidance of you bringing up the topic proves a testament to that. However, you've seen him and Ominis on the train when you came back after getting refreshments. You've seen Ominis give him a comforting hug—an affection you've barely received from him if there was any at all. You've seen Sebastian tap Ominis to stop talking whenever you enter the room.

People tend to have that misconception that you're awfully unaware of your surroundings due to you being characterized as a 'pushover.' You knew that your bond with Ominis or Sebastian was way different than what they had for each other. You knew it and chose not to dwell too much on the semantics. You'd rather focus on Ominis. On being the person he deserves.

This was solidified when Sebastian began including her in your lunch hangouts.

You were unfortunate enough to be separated from Sebastian and Ominis for your Potions lecture. You had to scour across the castle just to get with them for lunch. They were usually at the same place—lounging around in the Defense against the Dark Arts Tower or the Undercroft.

This time, however, you were finding it quite hard to spot the two.

"Look," Lydia Parkinson, a Ravenclaw from your year, twirls the cup of drink in her hand as she lazily looks up at you due to the lulling atmosphere of the afternoon. "Maybe you could just have lunch with us. Just saying."

Seated beside Lydia is Ren Aries, your potions seatmate (also a Ravenclaw). She has rumored romantic ties with Sebastian, which brought you to their spot in the Great Hall in the first place. Who else would know Ominis's best friend better than you?

Your eyes turn to Ren, who merely rests her chin on her palm propped up by her elbow on the table. "Don't look at me."

"You're basically dating!" You whine, hands grabbing on your books tighter. "Of course, you know where he is."

"No, we're not." Ren answers swiftly.

"Wrong." Lydia raises a breadstick and accusingly points it at Ren.

"Is she talking to you? I don't think so." Ren swats her hand away, causing the breadstick to fly across the table and into a group of first years. The three of you immediately turn your heads, not willing to face the confused glances on their faces.

Just as the first years begin to mind their own business, Lydia begins to lean in with pursed lips. "Well, I might've heard that the two left the Great Hall with the new fifth—"

Suddenly a loud slap intercepts her words. You flinch back at the sudden movement, watching as Lydia rubs her arm as she crumples over the table. Ren sends a glare toward Lydia before turning to you with a half-lidded stare.

"Don't mind her. She's delirious after drinking the pumpkin juice." Ren intercepts easily, not minding her best friend wincing beside her. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

"I heard what she said?'

"No you didn't."

"I mean ..." You trailed off, eyes glancing between the two. "I just heard her say the new fifth year."

There's an uncomfortable silence as the two gaze at you with an unreadable stare. Somehow, this gaze seems quite familiar. You've seen it from Imelda, from Anne during your short moments together, and now these two. A budding stem of annoyance begins to grow in your skin.

"Why are you looking at me like that? They're probably just hanging out." You shrug it off like you've always had. It is no use fretting over such simple matters.

"Sure they are—" Lydia chuckles before Ren sends a nudge to her ribs. The redhead merely groans and grabs at the edge of the table. You look at her in concern.

"As I said, delirious." Ren lightly curls the corners of her lips to give you a polite smile. There's a pause of silence before Ren sighs—eyes gazing with an unreadable expression on her face. Your fingers twitch at its familiarity.

"They're in the Undercroft, Y/N." She says, nodding slightly. There's a slight hesitance to her tone of response as if telling you where they were wasn't something she was supposed to be doing. "Sebastian dropped by our table to tell me that, just in case I wanted to join."

Sebastian referred to Ren. Just in case she wanted to join. You wanted to ask if Ominis at least told her to tell you, but you're too much of a coward to do that.

You couldn't will yourself to look at her eyes, afraid that you might finally recognize the emotion that lingers in the depths of her mind. You suppose the inquisitive and empathetic nature of Ravenclaw runs deep within Ren's blood.

You nod as a thanks and left without a word.

You hear laughter first. Your footsteps halt at the archway of the Undercroft—breath faltering as your eyes find the familiar tufts of blonde you've grown to love over the years.

Normally, you would've already bounced over to him, reveling in his attention no matter how negative or neutral it might appear. You would've teased him and wormed your way into his arms.

However, things were quite different from where you were standing.

You hadn't had the opportunity to meet the new 5th year. You only relied on hushed whispers and murmurs across the halls of Hogwarts just to get a glimpse of what she was actually like. You take slow steps towards the source of laughter, eyes trained on their figures—smiles, and gleeful expressions plastered on their faces.

You're caught off guard by the unfamiliar presence of the new fifth year—hair as dark as midnight with a touch of silver strands that decorate the front of her hair like the stars that litter the sky. She's as pretty as they say, as radiant as they whispered about, and evokes the aura of a true born wizard.

However, the true reason for her shock lies in the fact that Ominis—the man she'd known to be stoic, unmoving, and unphased, was laughing. Ominis was laughing.

"Oh, Y/N." It's Sebastian who notices you first. You flinched at the greeting, watching as the other two paused—the new fifth year turning towards you with wide curious eyes, and Ominis subtly turned his head away from you. Your breath hitches at his actions. Sebastian awkwardly glances between the two of you. "I think this is the first time you actually met Nora. Nora, this is Y/N Rosier. Y/N, this is Nora Finley."

Nora waves at you with a smile. "Hi Y/N. Hope you don't mind me intruding."

"None at all." You reply eyes glancing at Ominis who continues to have his back towards you. You decide to continue the conversation. "I was looking for you guys. I thought we were going to have lunch."

"Oh," Sebastian scratches the back of his head, hesitantly glancing at Ominis who continuously remains silent and indifferent. "We already had lunch. Sorry."

You slowly nod in an understanding, a stiff smile plastered on your face.

"That was because you were too hungry to wait," Nora intercepts with joking shove. "Apologies, Y/N. I didn't know they were waiting for someone else."

Your finger twitches slightly at her words. "It's fine."

"I was waiting for Ren! Ominis was just being an asshole." Sebastian defends himself which earns a slap on the arm from Nora. Then, you suddenly hear Ominis speak up.

"Not my fault you were actually coward enough to not go to her yourself," Ominis says. This earns a laugh from Nora who bumps her shoulders against Ominis. "I had to pull you over." The three laugh at the situation at hand, faces plastered with glee and comfort.

So Ominis was there, with Ren and the others. Yet no one thought of telling you where they were. An anxious heavy feeling settles over your chest.

Suddenly, you feel out of place. Your ears ring, zoning out, as their motion becomes more distorted in your eyes. You feel as though you shouldn't be here—that you're the one intruding instead. The ache overwhelms you.

Your feet shuffle a few steps back. "I-I'll get going." You say, voice weak as you announce your departure. Sebastian gives you a moment's glance before nodding. Nora gives you a big wave (you feel bad, she's too much of an angel). However another reason piles onto your aching heart—mind in a daze as it beats fast with anxiety.

Ominis had not once acknowledge your presence.

You leave with your dignity intact.

Seeing Nora is now a regular occurrence.

You didn't mind it at first. You liked the girl. She was a social butterfly, easy to talk to, and her presence brought comfort whenever she was around. You couldn't argue the comfortable nature of Sebastian and Ominis around her. While you were also a generally talkative and social person, it still varied among your peers. Your personality often ventures between the lines of introvert and extrovert—only becoming active to a certain amount of people, and silent to the rest.

However, despite your positive impression on Nora, there was also the case between her and Ominis. You've seen them hanging about in various points of the castle. Even going out together when they leave classes. You haven't had much alone time to spend with Ominis as he somehow begins to become more non-approachable and cold as days pass by. Somehow, he becomes more indifferent than before.

Back then, Ominis indulges in your whims despite his initial opposition. You suppose it's probably to get you to stop, but he had always listened—one way or another. Now, he merely leaves without a word—cutting you off mid-talk and bouncing off to Nora who had just entered the room.

Your heart begins to waver and your breath speeds up. You couldn't deny the hurt that flows through you with each indifferent response of your fiance. Your fiance. He was yours as much as you were his.

So why does it feel like you're the one intruding?

"What do you think we should get Anne, Omi?" You smile, siding up to Ominis whose hands run through the braille engraved on his book. "Do you think we should get her some scented candles?"

"Anne has a sensitive nose." Ominis furrows his eyebrows before slightly tilting his head towards you. "Didn't you know that?"

"I did!" You respond with a defensive tone. Of course, you did. Anne was your friend. "I was going to buy her those simple scented candles. Just to help her with the stress."

Ominis scoffs at your words before going back to reading his book. Just as you inquire a little more about his day, you hear Nora and Sebastian chattering as they reach your spot. You were about to greet them when you felt Ominis nudge your hold away from his arm. You flinch at its intensity as he rises from his seat to walk towards the two—specifically in Nora's direction.

Your heart thumps loudly against your chest, knocking against your ribs like an ache you can't explain. You sit silently, eyes watching as they chatter amongst themselves. The looming realization begins to crawl under your skin, chipping at you—limb from limb. Your breath falters.

"Y/N!" Nora greets like the angel that she is. You smile back, albeit forced and hesitant but welcomed her warmth with open arms. She slides up to you, before calling over the two. They follow with ease. You feel Nora's arm intertwine with yours, thumbing the cloth of your robe.

Just as the two have finally settled down, Nora begins the conversation. "I'm glad you don't have DADA with these two. It's always a chaos."

You nod, still quite perplexed by the whole situation. "Really?"

"Please, Nora." Sebastian teases, arms propped on the table. "Just say you're mad that I beat you at a duel."

"Throwing a ragged cloth to my face before casting a Levioso isn't a win that you think it is." Ominis intercepts with a disappointed shake of his head.

"Blah, blah. Looks like a skill issue to me." Sebastian leans back, arms crossed over his chest. He rolls his eyes playfully. "Life isn't fair on the battlefield, Finley."

Nora turns to you with a scrunched nose. "Are you really friends with these guys?"

You find yourself pausing at her question. Thankfully, she laughs afterward, pulling tease after teasing towards Sallow. The question begins to etch into your brain as your mind conjured every possible interaction you had with Sebastian. Was he even your friend? You remember the silence and the awkward tensions whenever Ominis had to go to the bathroom or get called up by Professor Weasley. Even before then, when Anne was present in your little group of 4, the twins were always stuck to the hip, if not with Ominis. Never the three of you alone together.

Never with you.

You suppose Imelda was right. Blinded by the idea and concept of love through duty, you unintentionally neglected the possible ties that you could've had with the twins. You felt helpless.

"Oh, yeah. Before I forget, what are we getting Anne this weekend?"

Your head turn towards Nora in surprise. "You're coming?"

There's a momentary pause at your question. You wouldn't have minded it before, but now you feel the stares clawing at your skin.

"Of course, she is." Ominis replies with a tone of disbelief. "Don't be ridiculous."

"She hasn't met Anne, though? I don't think—"

"Don't speak for my sister, Y/N." Sebastian cuts through the tension with an offhanded response. You turn towards him in surprise. Nora shifts uncomfortably beside you. "We already planned this. Let's just go with it."

"You didn't tell me anything?" You're not sure as to why your voice suddenly begins to rise. Your hands clench under the table.

"My bad?" Sebastian shakes his head in confusion, as if he's the one incovenienced. "Listen up, next time then? Instead of you know—ogling Ominis, all the time?"

"Sebastian!" Nora calls out, perplexed at the sudden hostility. The brown-haired Slytherin merely turns his head away. A dreadful feeling submerges over your body as you glance at Ominis who sports an indifferent look in his face. There's a paused silence before Sebastian stands from his seat.

"Where are you going?" Nora asks, worried.

"Out. I'm floo-ing to Hogsmeade for the gift. Catch up if you guys want to." Sebastian mumbles in response. He leaves abruptly, robe trailing behind him.

Just as you were about to turn to Ominis, he stands up. "Omi?"

"You should've known better." Ominis mutters. Your breath hitches at his words. He follows through with Sebastian. Your hand clenches into a fist.

"Y/N," Nora grasps at your arm with slight comfort. You couldn't be mad at her even if you wanted to. "Are you okay?"

Your head is lowered, hair framing your face as you try to gather your emotions. You then turn towards her with a smile you've practiced from your childhood days.

"I'm fine."

The silence was unbearable.

You're not sure when was the last time you and Ominis were seated together in a room, alone—much less the receiving room of your manor. You can feel the nervousness clawing up your throat. Your mother had persisted on the two of you visiting the manor during your winter break. You wanted to accept the invitation at first, seeing as this was an opportunity to spend time with Ominis.

But seeing the disdain on his face as soon as you told him the news, somehow regret only fills your body. You had no choice either way.

"Is Hogwarts treating you well?" Your mother sips her tea with the elegance fitting for her role as the matriarch of the house. You shift in your seat, uneasy from her attention.

"Well enough," Ominis answers from your side. His face lacks the enthusiasm of talking to your family.

Your mother furrows her eyebrows at the response but doesn't say anything regardless. "I do hope you're both preparing for your engagement once you graduate in 2 years. Merlin knows how much both of our families have prepared for it."

You nod submissively, unable to resist the pointed stare your mother gives you. Ominis stands abruptly at her words, not opting to pardon himself as he walks out of the room. There's paused silence before your mother scoffs.

"Insolent child," She seethes, taking a sip out of her cup. "If it weren't for his family name and heritage, we would've found you a more suitable heir to marry. Merlin knows his family's treating him like a dispensable asset, when his brother's already married and up to take the role as head of the house."

You sit silently, eyes focused on the untouched cup of tea. Your mother's voice booms through the room, causing you to flinch at its sudden intensity.

"Go after him, Y/N. Beg on your knees if you have to. Keep him tied to the leash before he goes off pawing at others." Your mother orders. "Your sister's a testament to that. Do I make myself clear?"

Your mother's word was law. Everyone in the house knew that. Even your father, who is recognized as the head of the house. She easily controls those around her to do her bidding, and those who resist are met with dire consequences. You'd rather be by her side than against her blade.

"Yes, mother."

You found him by the courtyard.

Your family dog, an Alpine Mastiff that was gifted for your father by a collector of muggle creature, pants against his lap—enjoying the gentle caresses that Ominis runs through his fur. He sits against the huge tree in the middle, the leaves giving his face a gentle shade from the light. You make careful steps before standing in front of him.

"Feeling lethargic, Omi?" You smile. The dog, Xavier, looks up at you with its sleepy eyes before yawning against Ominis's touch.

"I told you to stop calling me that." He replies, eyes devoid of emotion. He merely runs back and forth Xavier's fur as if its stimulation calms his nerves.

"You never allow me to call you anything." You retort, voice calm as you look down at him with a forlorn expression. He doesn't need to know that.

Ominis shakes his head, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "That's because we're not friends."

You purse your lips before responding. "If you say stuff like that, I'll get hurt, Omi."

Ominis chuckles. "You've bound me to your chains, made me a spectacle with your jokes, and you're worried about getting hurt over the truth?"

You stared at him as he continues to pet the massive dog on his lap. You've gone through this routine before, and you'll go through it again. Why get hurt now?

There's a miniscule pause of silence before you let out a laugh at his words. "So touchy with everything, Omi. You really hate me that much?"

It's a joke. Don't take it to heart.

"Yes," He answers with no hesitation, face devoid of any emotion. He finally looks up and its as if those beautiful cloudy blue eyes could stare through you. "Yes, I do."

It's not true.

You've observed Ominis enough to know what he's thinking.

As much as others regarded him as an intimidating figure, he quite wears his heart on his sleeve. You know when he's angry, when he's joking, being sarcastic, sad, or whatever version of Ominis you're facing for the day. You didn't spend 8 years of your life loving him just for you to not recognize every detail on his face.

You've known him well enough to recognize patterns on his behavior, subtle differences to his emotions, and his current mood of the day. If anything, you're well versed in Ominis's body language, that you've grown well accustomed to how you act around him based on it.

That's why besides you're being hit with two realities, instead of one.

You've watched them from across the hall, chatting up a storm as the three of them were huddled in the corner. You've long since opted to observing them rather than being in the group itself, and ever since then, you've begin noticing things you weren't supposed to.

"What's got you looking so focused there?" Imelda's voice reaches your senses as a figure settles beside you. You give her a glance before looking back at the trio. She hums, following your line of sight. "Looking at your asshole of a lover boy again?"

"Don't I ever?" You sarcastically remark, laughing slightly. Imelda looks at you with a slight raise of her eyebrow.

"Wow," She nods. "That's improvement. You don't make sarcastic remarks when I point out your obsession with white boy over there."

You glance at her, heaving a breath as you contemplated letting Imelda know of your thoughts as of late. You suppose that she's the only person who has been real with you since the start. Everything's been a blur since your visit with Ominis to your manor. You've been trying your hardest to appear normal but things had just gone way off. You've started to distance yourself as well, only responding when asked or talked to—which most of the case is Nora's doing. Though, with Sebastian's constant needs for adventure and Nora's inquisitive nature, she had also lost the attention towards your interaction with the group.

With Ominis, you knew well enough that wherever Nora and Sebastian went, he went to as well. You've seen the three of them flee the Great Hall, not minding your lack of presence to the group. 4 years as a group of friends and 8 years with Ominis, and they haven't had a single thought about you that passed through their minds.

You suppose you should've gotten used to their exclusion to your presence. You're partly aware that this is due to the engagement between you and Ominis, how much he despises the centuries-old tradition of marrying those of the same stature as he is. How much he detests the forced nature of your relationship. You wished you had the power to null it, to start over, and meet him under different circumstances. To dream of a reality where he actually finds love in you, and wishes for a future with you in it.

But alas, life is hard for someone like you. To hold so much authority within your fingertips but be shackled by tradition and generational trauma. You've long accepted your demise.

"Ominis likes Nora." The words slips out of your mouth with ease. Like what you just said was something out of the news. Imelda chokes at what she hears. You look at her with concern.

"E-excuse me?"

"Ominis likes Nora." You repeat calmly. Imelda sweatdrops, moving to stand in front of you as she analyzed your facial expression.

"You're saying that like it's the weather—are you okay?" She asks, worried.

You shrug, eyes looking down at your twiddling thumbs. "It's inevitable. Everyone knows about it, no?"

Imelda pauses, face cringing as she places her hands on her hips. You chuckle at the silent admission. "I'm always a bit too late."

"Look, Y/N," She sighs, taking a step forward as she places a hand on your arm. "Ominis was doomed to be your fiance from the start. He's an asshole and just overall rude! You've got nothing much to lose anyway!"

Your tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip before pulling between your teeth. "I do. That's not how it works, Imelda."

You glance up at her, finally meeting her concerned eyes. She lets out a breath at your forlorn expression.

"I always knew Ominis didn't like what we had. I've spent most of my childhood years with him to not know the familiarity of his disdain." You reply. You recall the times you've received cold and indifferent actions from him. "He's made himself clear. I was always the one who wanted more."

"Y/N," Imelda sighs.

"I don't think Ominis ever considered me to be someone dear to him," You whispered. "I had always been something he easily cast aside. A nuisance—I've seen the way he whispers to Sebastian whenever I've said something they considered out of line. I was never something he deemed important."

Imelda is silent. You heave a sigh.

"He's happy now." You mutter. "Nora's everything I'm not, and even if I wanted to hate her, despise her—she's so pure and likeable that it's so unfair. Why is it so unfair?"

You feel tears well in your eyes. Imelda's breath hitches at the sight. She looks around, trying to see if anyone was watching. She then hears the familiar voices of the three. Soon enough she sees them walking over to pass by their area. Imelda did what she could only think of.

She pulls her off her robe before throwing it over your head, shielding you from their stares. She pulls you in her arms as the three near towards you. You couldn't see a thing but you could hear them.

"... Imelda?" Sebastian's voice comes out as confused, probably because of her hooded figure. "What's up?"

"Hey!" Imelda smiles, hands making gentle pats to your back. "Friend's not feeling well. Hope you don't mind."

There's pause of silence before Ominis responds. You feel your heart speed up. "Ah, hope they'll feel better."

"They hear that quite well!" Imelda responds with enthusiasm. You slump against her hold, feeling lethargic from thinking.

"Alright, we'll get going." Sebastian waves before the two follow them off. Just as the three of them began to make their way down the hall, you hear Nora suddenly backtrack.

"Ah, by the way, if you do see Y/N around, tell her that Professor Weasley's asking for her?" Nora says. Your body freezes and its as if Imelda had felt it as she had pulled you closer.

"S-sure." Imelda responds. The three of them began to go on their way, chatting and laughing as they disappear down the hall.

Imelda finally pulls her robe off you, eyes filled with concern. "Y/N ..."

"They knew I wasn't around," You mumble, breath trembling, and eyes devoid of emotion. "They knew. He knew."

Imelda raises a hand to fix your hair before smiling. "There's nothing much I can say that will be of help, but I do hope that you'll take care of yourself—Of what you'll do from here on out."

You pause at her words before nodding silently.

The realization settles in and its heartbreaking and grueling. However, despite that, things haven't been much clearer than before. You'll set things right. For him. For yourself.

Because love is your greatest weakness, no? Your greatest threat. Love for him, and love for your family.

Whichever will prevail?

A/N: before yall ask, yes this will have a part 2 ... i just really wanted to finish this and it went beyond what ive planned. stay tuned mwehe!!! this will not have a happy ending btw. the title daffodil's camellia is in reference to their meaning in love. daffodil can mean new beginnings but it can also mean unrequited love, camellia means romantic love or devotion. just wanted to let yall know that!

#arthenaa #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt angst #hogwarts legacy angst #ren aries #lydia parkinson #hl ocs #nora finley mwehe

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deepdarkdelights · 2 years

Text

The Reaper | Jungkook x Reader

Pairing: Yandere Mercenary Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 14.6k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Touching, Symptoms of Panic/Anxiety, Stalking, Murder, Lots of Blood, Attempted Sexual Assault (Not By Jungkook), Mild Smut, Dub-Con, Cunnilingus, Decapitation, Throats are Slit, Wolf Attacks

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: “With your skirts drawn up over your thighs, the skin raised with goosebumps from the cool spring air, his hand retreated only to return with what looked like a stamp but where the rubber should have been, there were instead tiny needles all coated with bright red ink. Before you could begin to squirm again he quickly pressed it against the side of your thigh pulling a pained cry from your throat.

When he removed the faux stamp beads of blood rose to the surface of your skin, blending with the red ink that has been left behind. But the image imprinted on your skin was clear as day, a symbol your town had come to associate with fear: a skull pierced by a sword and ensnared by a snake. It was the mark of the reaper.

You had been marked for death.”

A/N: Here I am at almost three in the morning again lol. This is super UNEDITED but I will edit it tomorrow so please bear with me when it comes to any grammatical errors. I HUSTLED to get this done before classes start Monday so hopefully the quality did not suffer. This also ended up being 4-6k longer than intended. Very on brand. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and the comments, love you 💜💜💜

It was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but your stomach was twisted in knots.

You were one of the lucky ones, at least that was what your father had told you when he excitedly grabbed hold of your hands with a winning smile.

“A diamond in the rough,” He had whispered in awe, “How lucky I am to have had such a beautiful daughter born out of this village.”

It is true that none of us have a say as to what family we are born into, and that couldn’t be any more true for you. You were born into a poor family in a dilapidated village in the woods, you had been destined to live a destitute life like everyone else who had come before you. But you were happy. You enjoyed your spring days running barefoot through the Brooke, the lingering heat of summer nights beneath the stars, the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot, and the bite of cold winter wind against your cheeks. You adored the simplicity of the only life you had ever known and you never wanted for more.

But oftentimes, parents desired more for their children, more than they ever had. And that was why your father had jumped at the chance to marry you off to a visiting lord.

Had you not entered the forest that day to forage, maybe you would not have ended up in this situation. But you had so there was no point in dwelling on the alternate possibilities of what could have come to pass rather than what actually had.

~~~~~~~

You had always been warned about the danger of the woods growing up, but those warnings had been about wolves, bears, and mountain lions. There had been one dangerous animal you had ignored, one you walked amongst every day: men.

You had been sitting down in the soft grass, your legs folded beneath you at the knee as you carefully plucked berries from the bush, your cupped palms pouring them into the basket beside you when he had approached. At first, you considered that you had been so focused you had not heard him follow you, but you soon came to understand that he had been perfectly silent - his body so trained to move in stealth that even the woods would not give him away.

A firm arm wrapping around your waist and the cool glide of metal against your throat startled a shriek from you as your body flinched back only causing you to corral yourself into his arms, your back pressed against his solid chest as the knife posed at your neck barred you from moving.

You panted in fright, your eyes clenching shut as you felt his lips brush over the shell of your ear while he hushed you and cooed like you were a little injured animal.

“Stay still, little lamb, I don’t want to hurt you.” He muttered, his voice low and rhythmic as he spoke a language you had no way of understanding.

“I don’t understand,” You said after an uncomfortable swallow, your neck tense beneath the blade of the knife.

“There are many things you can’t understand, not yet, the hunt hasn’t begun.” He said with an amused chuckle.

The humor was lost on you, his words nothing more than a jumbled mess of sounds strung together that you were unable to decipher. His actions though, were readable. You jerked in surprise as his knifeless hand slid down your body, tugging your layers of skirts up over your knees and not stopping there.

“Stop! Leave me alone!” You cried, your legs kicking frantically as you grabbed his forearm and tried to still it.

You were quick to learn that he was incredibly strong as your grasp did nothing to dissuade him. Another laugh vibrated through his chest and against your back, he was clearly amused by your thrashing which only served to send chills down your spine. He pressed the blade harder against your skin, the metal just barely piercing the soft, vulnerable flesh causing your body to go rigid in fear that he would slit your throat.

“Good girl,” He hummed, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheekbone in what felt like an almost affectionate gesture. “Be still,”

With your skirts drawn up over your thighs, the skin raised with goosebumps from the cool spring air, his hand retreated only to return with what looked like a stamp but where the rubber should have been, there were instead tiny needles all coated with bright red ink. Before you could begin to squirm again he quickly pressed it against the side of your thigh pulling a pained cry from your throat.

You had been marked for death.

A pained cry of devastation filled the forest, a sound that had unwillingly left you that was not unlike the call of a wounded animal. Out of everyone in your village, why had you been chosen to die? Who would have paid the hefty price to target a quiet village girl?

You knew what came next, you were going to be hunted down. That was what they did - they marred the flesh of their victim so that they could find them if by some miracle they had found a way to run away. And that meant the runner would have an entire band of reapers on their tail, chasing them until they grew too tired to continue running and were unwillingly dispatched - their soul severed from the body in one fell swoop of a blade.

You weren’t going to survive this, no one ever did. And why would you be the exception?

The reaper behind you hummed in what he attempted to make a soothing manner as he lowered his knife from your throat, the hand that once held the horrific stamp was now freely caressing your arm in short smooth strokes.

“Did it hurt that badly, little lamb?” He whispered in what you now knew to be the coded language of the reapers.

There was no way you would ever be able to understand what he was saying and he knew that so why did he bother speaking to you in his language at all? Why didn’t he speak the villages’ language? At least then you could understand what he was planning to do to you, and your wild imagination was only frightening you more than what he had done so far.

His fingers brushed your tears away, they were long, nimble, and calloused, the perfect tools to wield an arsenal of weaponry but were instead attempting to soothe you. You were utterly confused.

“Don’t cry, this is a happy day, you’ll see that soon I promise you.” He spoke softly, his hands gently cupping your face and allowing you to face him as his thumbs continued to swipe the tears away.

Your vision was blurry making it difficult to identify him, your body still shaking with frightened hiccups. You could make out the honey hue of his smooth skin and the dark strokes of coal around his eyes as well as the black leather and linen that covered his body. You could tell that he was young and most definitely strong, his linens straining against the cords of muscle that built his shoulders. Even with your limited vision, you were able to tell that he was perfectly sculpted to be a reaper, a hired killer to whoever offered the highest price.

His fingers lightly traced down the length of your jaw before freezing, his entire body stiffening like he had heard something you were not able to hear. And you were exactly right, he had heard the incoming party of hunters.

You heard him unsheathe his sword before you had seen it, the sound of metal slicing through the air as he wrapped a strong arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side.

It took a moment before you heard it, but the sound of hooves was unmistakable. And, a few short seconds later, the first horse broke through the trees before being followed by a band of its fellows. Seated astride the first horse was a man that was near your father’s age, his clothing refined and expensive along with the gold and jeweled rings that covered his fingers. And the sigil he bore on his horse was enough to confirm your suspicions - he was the lord of the land.

Your body sagged in relief and, as a result, relaxed against the strong chest of your captor whose grip only tightened further. You were going to be saved.

“Release the girl, or suffer the consequences.” The Lord spoke, his voice still and commanding.

The man behind you was motionless, his breathing steady and calm despite the massive hunting party that was armed to the teeth staring him down.

“I won’t tell you again,” The lord called, and with that, his men raised their bows and notched their arrows - all waiting for the command to fire.

The reaper leaned forward, his warm breath beside your ear as he whispered the only words he has been permitted to say, “When the time comes, I will find you.”

And with that, he threw a small pouch with lightning speed, the fabric unraveling as it met the ground and releasing a massive and unrelenting stream of dark plumes of smoke blinding everyone in its vicinity - giving him the perfect cover to slip away.

Your eyes teared up as the smoke cleared, whatever powder had ignited had greatly irritated your eyes and filled your lungs with smoke causing the hunting party and yourself to violently cough away the burning sensation in your throats and chests.

You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes as you recovered from the unexpected attack. You were shocked that you were alive more than anything else. It had been a twist of fate and a shot of luck that a highborn had traveled this far into the land and because of that, you were alive. But for how much longer, you were unaware. The mark on your thigh still stung, demanding its presence be known. With that mark, you were as good as dead. No, you were a walking corpse - it was only a matter of time before the reapers came for you.

The sudden appearance of a hand before your face startled you back to reality causing you to fall back onto your rear in an embarrassing display of clumsiness.

It was him, Lord Ilseong.

“Are you unharmed?” He asked, concern heavy in his eyes.

You gratefully took his hand and allowed him to help you to your feet before bowing your head to him and bending at the knee in a show of respect, your eyes trained to the ground.

“Thank you,” Your voice wavered, heavy with emotion, “You saved my life, I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

Lord Ilseong hummed in appreciation at the sight of your submission, “How unusual, someone of your status who understands etiquette.”

Your blood warmed in irritation from his remark, despite the heroic actions he was like every other highborn of the land. They saw the people of your village as uncouth, dirty, and uneducated. You were surprised he hadn’t wiped his hand after helping you up.

You flinched in surprise as your chin was held still once more today by his hand. The creases around his eyes deepened as he smiled, turning your head from side to side to appraise you.

“Why you don’t look like the common peasantry at all,” He said with an amused grin and lecherous eyes, “In fact, you are quite the beauty.”

“Thank you, my lord,” You forced the words out from a strained smile. You knew better than to disrespect a high born, lest your head would be swiftly removed and your family slaughtered from your careless wrath.

One of the firmest lessons you had learned had been how to control your anger. Village people were expendable and you were not special.

“Well trained,” He mused before releasing you from his hold, “I think I know just how you can repay me, my dear.”

You were suddenly struck by the thought that you had escaped one dangerous trap only to wander into another.

Lord Ilseong and his men had escorted you back home. The entire process was quite the spectacle, especially for the village people as you returned astride the horse of the lord of the land. He had helped you up and sat you directly in front of him, his one hand holding the reigns and the other settled on your waist. It had put you in an uncomfortable position, you couldn’t pull away from his wandering touch or you would tumble off of the horse. You had nearly collapsed in relief upon returning to your shack, your body slipping down the side of the horse and making for the front door in record time.

Your stomach turned when he followed you inside. He had greeted your father enthusiastically who in turn fell to his knees in a deep bow. You rushed to his side and slid your arms beneath his, helping him rise back up to his feet.

It was then that the horrible deal was made.

“I have saved your daughter’s life and in turn, I expect to be repaid.” He said after he recounted the tale of your rescue to your father.

“Repaid, my lord?” Your father asked, his voice wavering in fright, “I am afraid there isn’t much we lowly peasants could offer you.”

“It is not money I require, nor land, nor tax,”

“Then…what more could you request?”

“Your daughter’s hand, assuming she is untouched of course.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as soon as his words met your ears. Lord Ilseong was not much younger than your father, in fact, you were certain that had your father not been subjected to decades of hard labor he would not look as aged as he did now, his stature would resemble that of his lords’.

The sickness that brewed in your stomach was only made worse by the elation present on your father’s face. You could tell what he was thinking, being the father of the lady of the land would ensure the end of his days of work. He could find comfort and peace until the end of his days.

“But of course,” Your father nodded excitedly, “Forgive my questioning, but what could you want with a peasant girl?”

“The previous lady was unable to birth me a son before her untimely passing. Your daughter is young and not nearly as uncouth as the rest of this village and her upbringing while unfit for that of a lady has no doubt made her strong. She will surely give me many children, and with training, we shall break her into the life of a lady.”

You stood there, floored by the conversation that transpired before you. Your maidenhood and your liveliness were being haggled as if you had no say as if you weren’t even there. He spoke of breaking you like a mare and reducing you to nothing more than a child bearer.

“She has certainly passed marrying age, I am doing you an immense favor by marrying her, really.”

“An immense favor, indeed,” Your father mused, his hand cupping his chin as he pretended to be deep in thought despite already having made his decision, “Consider it done.”

You felt as if you were on the verge of fainting.

“Excellent, I shall send for my new bride in a week's time, until then I shall make preparations for the ceremony,” He said with a triumphant grin that told you that he was all too accustomed to getting what he wanted. “Until then, my dear.”

In a matter of moments, your life had been irrevocably changed. And at that moment, you desperately hoped that the reaper would find you first and dispatch you before Lord Ilseong would ever have the chance of taking you.

You shivered in disgust as the lord left a parting kiss on your hand before shutting the door after him. You frantically wiped your knuckles against your patched skirts before running to your room. You could hear your father calling after you, demanding you to stop but you did not listen.

The yelling only continued when your mother returned home. You could hear your parents fighting the entire night, your father raising his voice over your mothers as he explained what this marriage could do for your family. Your mother understood your plight, she too was against the idea of your being wed to a man twice, almost thrice your age.

But at the end of the day, your father’s decision reigned supreme. There was a hierarchy to all things, to society, to work, and of course to families. You were to be wed, regardless of your and your mother’s protests.

Your fingers traced over the red-inked mark on your thigh, the imprint of the reaper still there with nowhere else to go. You relayed your thoughts as you traced the mark, a mantra barely parting your lips as you begged for the reaper to find you first.

Your index finger traced the lower curve of the circle that surrounded the symbol, and just there you could feel the raised bumps of a word, of a name.

Jungkook.

~~~~~~~

That was what had landed you where you were now, seated in a carriage sent by Lord Ilseong and dressed in pristine, elaborate robes.

It was your wedding day, it was supposed to be the happiest day of your life but you could not help but entertain the thought of throwing yourself from the carriage and allowing your body to be crushed beneath its wheels. While that seemed dramatic, you knew that the only way you could escape that old man was by death. He was a Lord, he took what he wanted and didn’t stop until he obtained it, and that included yourself.

Your stomach churned with nausea, not only from the ceaseless swaying of the transportation but from the ever-present anxiety you had felt all week which had come to a climax on this very day.

Perhaps, if you were lucky, he would take many mistresses and would be satisfied with them after you birthed him a son and he would leave you alone for the rest of your days. And maybe if you were even luckier he would die within ten years' time - stricken by disease or the halt of his heart. But you could only dream, dreaming would get you through this inevitable endless nightmare.

The reaper had not come to save your soul.

That was what you had reasoned, your untimely death would save your soul from being tainted by his lordship. You would much rather die young than be bound to that man for the remainder of his days. You would much rather be impaled by the cool steel of a blade than ever allow him to touch you again.

You allowed your body to go limp against the side of the carriage, the cool spring breeze soothing over your face like a gentle caress. You were in the thick of the woods now, the winding branches of the trees casting twisted shadows over everything below them. They looked like snares just waiting for the right prey to wander into them.

After that thought entered your mind, everything changed. In the blink of an eye, an array of arrows were let loose, flying into the wheels of the carriage and sending it careening off to its side.

You shrieked in surprise and fright as the carriage was easily tipped over, your body following immediately causing you to slam down all of your weight against your right shoulder and the other carriage door which now lay against the ground.

You cried out in pain as your body thrummed in shock from the fall, your head ringing from the collision against the door. You could feel a stickiness in your hair causing you to raise your hand to touch your scalp, and when your fingers retreated they were coated with thick, red, blood.

A gurgled scream had you snapping back to awareness. That had to have been the driver, you could just faintly make out his form, from the small slatted windows toward the front of the carriage, which was steadily slumping forward as all life was rapidly draining from him.

“What?” You gasped as you struggled to sit up, all of your weight resting on your bent forearms as your vision blurred. You had hit your head well.

The carriage shook with a loud thump, your throat tightening in fright as you heard several more steady thumps follow. Someone had landed on top of it, they were coming for you.

You hissed as you were blinded by a sudden burst of light, the other carriage door that was now above you had been wrenched open. As you blinked away the stinging sensation in your eyes you realized that you were no longer alone.

There was a man standing above you, straddling the entrance to the door. He was clothed from head to toe in black cloth and leather, his left arm bare and exposed, and a mask covering his mouth and nose. All that you could make of his face was the glinting metal pierced through his eyebrow, both of which were furrowed in what was concern but came across as intimidating.

“Stay away from me!” You yelled, your head throbbing in response to your shouts.

The man shook his head silently before settling into a squat and gripping the door of the carriage in one hand before leaning inside and grabbing the sleeve of your robes. Now that he was nearer you were able to make out the stitched symbol on his shoulder that you hadn’t been able to see before - a red skull, sword, and snake.

He was a reaper.

You didn’t know whether to struggle or flee due to the fact that your whispered wishes in the night had suddenly come true. The reaper had come for you first, Lord Ilseong would not have you. Due to your plight your body had frozen, your mind overloaded by your sudden realization.

The reaper - Jungkook, took the opportunity to swiftly pull you out of the carriage and gently set you down on the soft grass. You stared at him dumbly as he dropped into a squat in front of you, his hands taking hold of your face and maneuvering it so he could assess your head wound. He tisked to himself in displeasure, his fingers lightly prodding the area around the wound forcing a wince and a groan out of you.

“Poor little lamb,” He hummed, his fingers retreating only to lightly trace down the curve of your jaw.

“Please, if you’re going to kill me do it quickly, and don’t make me suffer. Let me die with dignity.” You said, boldly grabbing his hand and pulling it away from your face.

You had heard tales in your village, tales of what some of the reapers had done to some poor unfortunate girls - stealing their innocence and leaving them behind to deal with the burdens that have been relinquished to them whether they had been marked or not. The marked girls were luckier than most - their pain ended along with their life.

Jungkook cocked his head to the side in curiosity. He was not stupid, he knew what you were asking. But what truly puzzled him, was why you would think he would do something like that. If he had wanted to kill you he would have done it that very day he had met you.

“Mea Lunatta,” He replied despite knowing you could not understand him, “My wife.”

With that, he scooped you up into his strong arms and began to walk deeper into the trees. Your body went limp, you knew very well there was no way you could fight a born killer, it would be futile. Instead, you stared ahead, the light disappearing as he walked, his grip firm and strong. Although the woods were quiet you could not shake the chill that curled around your spine, you could feel that you were being watched. And you were not wrong, all it took was a little concentration and your eyes adjusting to the dim light before you saw it.

There were eyes in the trees.

~~~~~~~

Jungkook had finally come of age. At the age of twenty-five, he was finally permitted to partake in the hunt.

The hunt was an annual occurrence, it happened like clockwork every spring. The reapers lived far from the villages, deep in the woods in their homes they had built all in a clustered community. And because of this reclusiveness, they often operated much like the predators of the woods. And that contributed to the start of the hunts. Every spring, like animals in rut, they hunted for partners - for wives.

On the first of spring they dispersed, all the men that were twenty-five or older, and searched for their prospective partner.

Jungkook had found you that first morning, on a cold spring day. He had heard you humming to yourself in the early hours of the morning. The small piles of melting snow glittered with the golden light of the steadily rising sun. You were hanging up white sheets on a clothesline, the fabric fluttering around you from the cool breeze. You looked absolutely breathtaking, like an angel shrouded in white with golden rays.

From that moment on, he knew he had to have you. And as protocol instructed, he followed you around for the next several weeks. He grew attached. You radiated a warmth he had never felt before with your gentle smile and kind words. It was a warmth he wanted to steal for himself, a warmth that he could not bear the thought of sharing with anyone else.

He found it endearing, how shy you were. But you were oh so tempting. He liked to think that you were inviting him into your room when you left your window unlatched, you were just too bashful to say anything. So he took the opportunity to sneak inside whenever you “allowed” him to. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he had rummaged through your things while you slept mere inches away. It had become a habit of his ever since he had trained to become a reaper, to learn all he could about a person.

He learned that you were a bookworm from the hidden stories he found tucked behind your dresser, the pages creased and torn with love from the continuous thumbing through them.

He learned you loved flowers from the blossoms he found pressed between those pages, bright blooms of daffodils, violets, and buttercups greeting him.

He learned you often went hungry from the lack of food in your family's pantry.

So began the second stage of the hunt, the courting. You seemed puzzled but unconcerned from the sudden discoveries of presents left on your window sill. By all means, you were delighted by the short stories, the bundles of wildflowers, and the occasional carefully wrapped veal and loaves of bread. Your excited smiles were enough to make his heart thump in his chest.

And so the courting continued until the week before the ceremony. That was where he was finally permitted to touch you, to mark you.

The marking always occurred one week before the new moon, the date on which the official hunt would take place. The mark of the reaper meant different things depending on where it was placed on a person’s body, something which outsiders were typically unaware of.

A mark on the wrist meant the mark of death.

A mark on the chest signified that you were a reaper.

And a mark on the thigh was reserved only for potential spouses - for a wife in Jungkook’s case.

Jungkook hadn’t anticipated that a lord would be in the area that day, nonetheless, Hell’s Hollow as the reapers referred to it. And he certainly could not have anticipated that said lord would come to your aid. Jungkook would have fled, taking you with him had he been permitted to do so. But there were rules he had to follow.

The first rule was that he was not permitted to speak to outsiders. Although you were marked, you weren’t considered to be one of them and you were not allowed to have any knowledge of what was to come.

The second rule was that after the marking, he was not permitted to see his potential spouse until the night of the hunt.

The third rule was that the official hunt always took place on the new moon. The lack of moonlight gave the potential spouses an advantage - the darkness created a new challenge for the reaper that was seeking them.

And the fourth rule was the most important of them all: if the runner made it outside of the reaper’s territory they would be given their freedom - no strings attached.

That was a rule that made his heart clench uncomfortably. It was a rule engrained in tradition, if you were to best him, prove yourself capable, he would have to let you go. Despite what most of the villagers believed, reapers were bound by their honor and if they were to break those rules they would be dishonoring their brethren, and they would be exiled.

But the thought of that didn’t frighten him nearly as much as the thought of you successfully evading him. He knew he had an advantage, he had been tracking marks his entire life, he was confident that he would be able to capture you before you broke the boundaries of their territory. He couldn’t afford to doubt himself, doubt leads to mistakes and mistakes led to failure.

He would not fail.

You were surprisingly still in his hold as he trekked through the forest. He had expected you to put up more of a fight, to try and flee. But he had forgotten that you were indeed smart, you most likely knew you would not be able to escape him like this, especially now. Pride swelled within him at the thought of how clever you were, but at the same time worry quelled in his mind, your cleverness might take you away from him.

He glanced down at you several times as he continued your journey, he would be lying if he were to say you were not distracting. You smelled fresh and clean with a lingering scent of oils that had been rubbed into your skin which was practically glowing, especially with the added intricacy of the garments you wore. They were familiar to him, the style, the embroidery, it was from someone he knew. Someone he wished he didn’t know. And that greatly confused him, but not as much as the sight of you inside that carriage that they had planned to attack. They had thought the lord himself would be inside, departing the village with collected taxes. But instead, you were there, his chosen.

He could feel the eyes of his comrades in the trees, burning into his back. This was something he had been trying to avoid.

Jungkook was strong and he was promising, it was well known knowledge that once the leader of their troupe stepped down he would be in the running for the position, a position that was highly sought after. And while Jungkook had many friends, brothers, amongst the reapers, he had just as many enemies. So what better way to scorn him than by stealing his chosen?

They all knew now, and he was certain that they would be hunting you alongside him tonight.

That was a part of the hunt, after all, to challenge themselves. Reapers that were of age that did not bring a chosen partner would hunt from the pool if they wished to. And if they died in the process, the reaper that killed them would go unpunished. Jungkook was certain he would have to kill for you tonight, and that thought did not bother him.

Your body suddenly tensed in his arms and in turn he stopped, immediately going on the defensive. He could feel you shrinking back into his chest in utter fear, harsh pants of breath parting your lips in pure fright.

“Wolves.” You gasped, your hand involuntarily squeezing his bicep.

A loud snap severed the silence of the forest and from the bushes emerged a wolf. It had the brightest blue eyes and pitch black fur, standing as tall as a horse.

“Direwolf,” He said, a word that was the same in your language.

You shrieked as he began to walk forward, your body wriggling for the first time since he had grabbed you. He hushed you, patting your back as he neared the wolf. The wolf did not appear to be aggressive, in fact, it seemed quite relaxed, even happy at the sight of Jungkook. Its massive tail swung slowly in excitement as it walked beside Jungkook, consciously slowing its pace so it did not overtake him.

“My wolf,” He explained. He knew very well that you could not understand, but he could not remain silent, he wished to speak to you.

The Direwolves had become their companions, they respected one another's borders and in turn, had formed a close relationship with select reapers. The Direwolves guarded their campgrounds, and in turn, the reapers ensured they would be fed in the barren days of winter. The Direwolves were the reason why no one ever tried to ambush them, they’re massive bodies, fanged teeth, and tough skin made them an impossible adversary.

They were incredibly good at keeping people inside as well.

His wolf made a good guide, leading the way into the campgrounds. The sun was nearly set, the forest growing impenetrably dark on these short spring days. It would not be long before the hunt started and he still needed to prepare you.

The campgrounds were fairly empty, not many reapers or families milling about. They all knew what tonight marked and they were all preparing in their own ways. The wolf followed behind closely, coming to stop and sitting by his cabin, his bright blue eyes steady and alert.

You began to struggle again as he crossed the threshold, the missing presence of the wolf instilling your instincts to fight once more.

“Put me down!” You yelled through gritted teeth, your irritation from being carried around like a rag doll boiling to the surface.

You could see his jaw clench beneath the cover of his mask, you were making him angry.

He slammed the door shut behind him before setting you down, leaning against the only exit to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave before it was time.

“I won’t let you touch me,” You said with a shake of your head, “And I won’t go down without a fight.”

You were impressed by the steadiness in your voice in spite of the deep-rooted fear you felt inside. You were not necessarily lying to him, you would make it as hard as possible for him despite knowing just how easily he could restrain you. You were terribly frightened.

His body shook with laughter, his eyes crinkling in amusement which only served to unsettle you as well as frustrate you. He too knew that your threats were useless, in fact, he found them to be adorable. But, he did not have any plans that were like what you were insinuating. He would not be able to do that until after he caught you, fair and square. Not until you were his wife.

He crossed his strong arms over his chest, leaning back in a relaxed manner against the door before nodding his head in the direction of the table where a white garment was folded on top.

“Change.” He instructed.

You looked between him and the table before shaking your head, “No.”

He cocked his head to the side, his pierced eyebrow raising in questioning at your defiance. He pulled down his mask and let it rest around his neck before he spoke again.

“Change,” He smirked before sliding a knife out of his leg sheath, “Or I will do it for you.”

You didn’t have to speak his language in order to understand what he was insinuating. He would have no problems slashing your clothes into ribbons so you would have no other choice but to wear what he was giving you.

You could feel your eyes burning with unshed tears that were threatening to pool over. Whenever you became overwhelmed with emotion you cried, especially when you were angry and you hated that so much. You sniffled pitifully and rubbed at the skin beneath your eyes, the playful smirk immediately dropping off of Jungkook’s face as he took a step in your direction.

“Look away,” You snapped, stepping backward and grabbing the plain fabric from the table.

Jungkook seemed distressed, his lips pressing together in worry as he watched you. But, after a few moments, he nodded and faced the door to give you your privacy. That was at least one kindness that could be afforded.

You were woefully embarrassed to not only be changing in the same room as a man, but also by the attire he had provided you with. It was a dress that was thin and breathable with loose angel sleeves as well as a skirt that ended mid calf, it was made to offer mobility and comfort. You felt horribly exposed, the dress far too scandalous to be anything but sleep wear. You felt naked, in your village this would be just as bad as being naked.

But it was either this, or nothing at all.

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked, and despite your attempts, worry penetrated your words.

He looked over his shoulder before slowly turning to face you, his dark eyes roaming over your body from head to toe in what could only be described as appreciation. He didn’t answer you, and from what you understood that was in his character. Instead he approached you and in turn you took several steps back until you were halted by the table behind you. He advanced and did not stop until there was barely an inch of space left in between you two.

Your harsh swallow was cacophonous in the quiet cabin, your gaze was turned downward in an attempt to avoid his eyes.

He softly lifted your head up with his thumb and forefinger on your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your hands gripped the table behind you in response, your eyes flickering off to the side in anxiety.

“I’m going to love you,” he whispered with a soothing tone as he retrieved a small silver jar from behind you filled with red pigment, “I’m going to protect you, and if anyone tries to take you from me I’ll slaughter them without hesitation.”

He gently smoothed your eyelids shut and proceeded to paint the red pigment over your eyes, over the crests of your cheekbones, and dragged down the hollows beneath your eyes. Even without seeing it, you could recognize the pattern as the same one he wore on his face in coal dust.

“You are mine, and I am yours,” He said while cupping your cheeks tenderly and pressing his forehead against yours.

After Jungkook had finished preparing you, he grabbed you be the hand and lead you out of the house. The Direwolf was still there and it continued to follow the two of you around like, well like an overgrown puppy.

Jungkook’s grip was firm but not painful, it was meant to keep you by his side. It was dark out, the dirt paths just barely lit by a line of torches leading toward the center of the ground where a massive until bonfire was constructed. And surrounding the unlit fire was a massive crowd of reapers as well as women dressed almost identically to yourself.

Your heart clenched in your chest, what was coming next? Were you going to be sacrificed? Roasted and cannibalized? Whatever is was, it wasn’t going to be good for you.

You dug your heels into the ground, surprisingly, startling Jungkook. He turned to face you, the light of the torches glinting off of his piercing and the red hue of his lips. You hated to admit it, but he was painfully beautiful. With a strong jaw, prominent brows, dark eyes, and pouty lips, he was the most attractive man you had ever seen. He looked as if he belonged among nobility, not here, in the middle of the woods with a bunch of wild men.

“Please,” You whispered, stepping closer so he could hear, “I need to know what’s going to happen to me.”

His jaw clenched, his lips pressed firmly together in thought. There was a beat of silence before he warily looked around and flipped your palm over so it was facing the sky. And then, he began to trace patterns, no, letters over the surface of your palm.

You focused, memorizing the letters and stringing them together in your mind until they formed coherent words. Words that sent a violent chill throughout your entire body.

“Run, don’t hide.”

~~~~~~~

The bonfire roared to life behind you as you sprinted through the forest, an eerie red glow casting long shadows all around you. The women that hadn’t figured out what was happening right away were far behind you, you had been granted a head start. But you knew that time was precious, eventually the reapers would descend and if they didn’t manage to catch you, you didn’t want to imagine was the Direwolves would do to you.

You could only imagine that this was how they entertained themselves. Perhaps someone had not hired Jungkook to kill you, but instead like an apex predator he desired to hunt you. This had to be a game for them, whoever slaughtered the most people won.

But then why did he tell you to keep running and not to hide? To lengthen the game? Or, if you hid, would the others find you? Did he want to claim your life instead?

Your legs and arms burned with exertion as you ran, the cool earth soggy and soft beneath your shoes that were most definitely not made for running. They were a size too small and pinched you in all of the worst places sending searing pain throughout the bottoms of your feet. You debated kicking them off but thought better of that, the nights were still freezing and if you managed to make it out of this alive you would prefer to keep all ten of your toes.

Despite your head start you could still hear everything that happened behind you. You could hear the other women screaming and fighting for their lives and that only served as motivation, forcing you to push yourself past your limits and sprint faster than you ever had before.

A scream parted your lips as a large black mass shot out of the trees and just barely brushed against you. You stumbled but did not fall and continued running but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking over your shoulder. Black fur and piercing blue eyes, it was Jungkook’s wolf who was pinning a reaper down to the ground. You watched as he snarled and lunged for the man’s neck and crushed it with one snap of it’s jaws before slowly dragging the corpse back into the trees and ripping his throat open. His blood rolled down his neck and practically sizzled from the cold air.

Your stomach turned and your throat tightened, you were definitely running slower now from your nausea and the muscle fatigue. How had you not noticed the wolf tracking you? Or the reaper? They both had been perfectly silent, one with the forest, and you had not even realized that man had been less than a foot behind you.

You were out of your depth, you were going to die.

Your body had been rife with adrenaline at the beginning of this horrible race, and that still was present especially after what you had just experienced. But your mind was contesting your body and you were horribly frightened and confused.

In your panicked state and the deep darkness of the night, you had failed to see it. A wire had been strung up and the minute you ran through it your ankles were caught, you tripped and fell and the wire wrapped smoothly around you ankles: binding them together.

Someone had set traps before the start of the hunt, they had done something that felt an awful lot like cheating.

“No!” You cried, smacking your palm over your mouth from the volume, “No, no, no, please no,” You whispered.

You flipped yourself onto your back and sat upright, your hands instantly pulling at the wire and attempting to unravel it from your ankles. You hissed in pain, a stray tear falling from your eye as the wire slashed at the delicate skin of your palms - crimson blood beading up and slipping from the wound.

You clenched your jaw tight to muffle your sounds of discomfort and got to work, whimpering at each slice as you pried the wire open and unwound it painstakingly slow. You grunted under your breath as you pulled it free, a clear indent left in the flesh of your ankles that was bloody and fresh. You let out a soft breath of relief before turning over onto your hands and knees, attempting to stand back up so that you could continue your escape.

Before you could move any farther a boot connected with your back, forcing your down to the ground like a helpless bug. A sharp wheeze left your lungs as pain radiated through your back, your fingers curling into the dirt beneath you as you tried to drag yourself out from underneath whoever was pinning you down.

“There you are,” The man said with a pleased tone in the language you spoke.

You cried out as he wove his gloved fingers into your hair and sharply yanked your head up by causing shocks of pain to blossom over your scalp. He turned your head to face him, his other hand tightly grasping your cheeks.

“Oh yeah, you’re Jungkook’s bitch,” He laughed, “You’re pretty too, that’ll make this hurt even more.”

“Please, please let me go! I swear you’ll never see me again, I just want to go home!” You cried, emotion swelling up in your chest to the point where you couldn’t stop yourself from crying.

You hated crying, you wanted to be strong but fuck, you were so scared. You knew that you were moments from dying, this had to be it and you weren’t ready.

“And that’s exactly what I can’t have, what better way to piss that asshole off than to steal his woman from him? To make him see you everyday knowing I rightfully won you and he can’t do anything about it? Hell, I could even fuck you against the side of his house if I wanted to and he wouldn’t be able to do a fucking thing about it.”

His woman? His woman?

You suddenly came to realize a horrific thought. They weren’t hunting for sport, they were hunting for wives.

“You’re a little older than I would have liked, but I’ll make do,” He sneered, flipping you over onto your back and straddling your waist.

“Stop, let go of me!” You screamed, wriggling underneath him and hitting whatever part of his body you could reach. You caught him by surprise, your nails catching on his skin and dragging down over his face drawing blood beneath them.

“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, wiping the blood from his face before grasping your wrists and pinning them down to the ground and above your head.

“I was going to be nice to you, ya know? But now, now I’m going to make you suffer,” He spat, the veins in his neck bulging with rage.

You screamed, panicked sobs filling the air as he gripped your hands with one of his own, the other going for the waist of his pants. You knew what was coming next, you had heard the stories of what they did and all you could do was cry and struggle beneath him, he had you pinned well.

You clenched your eyes shut, your lashes clumping together from the amount of tears you had shed. You didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see what was about to happen.

In a last ditch effort, a small ember of hope, you screamed once more, “Jungkook!”

And it was all over in a flash. A warm, thick, wetness sprayed over your face - a coppery taste misting over your lips as a gurgled, choked cry sounded from above you before the weight of the man fell off of you.

You kept your eyes closed, still too afraid to move, your body was completely frozen against your own desire to flee. You jolted at the feeling of fingers ghosting over your cheek, fingers that were rough and coated with something that felt tacky.

Warily, you opened your eyes. It was Jungkook. His mask was pulled down around his neck again, his expression was one of panic and rage. You swallowed harshly as he wiped away your tears and whatever was coating your face. You allowed yourself to take in the sight of him from head to toe and you were met with the startling realization that he was covered in blood. His forearms, his palms, his chest, and his boots, and not to mention the light smattering over his sharp jawline.

He had killed many people tonight.

Your eyes wandered behind him and on the ground a lifeless corpse was splayed out. It was the man that had captured you, his throat was savagely slashed so deeply you thought you could see bone.

You frantically began to rub at your face, the white sleeves of your dress stained with dirt and blood rubbing roughly against your skin. You were certain your face would be raw by the time you were done.

You hadn’t even realized you were panicking, frantically mumbling sentences that didn’t make sense as you attacked your own face, until he spoke.

“Sh, sh, sh,” He hushed you, pulling your hands from your face, “It’s over, you’re safe now.”

Your body froze, it took you a few moments to realize that you could understand him, this was the first time he had spoken your language.

“Please, I want to go home now,” You whispered, your hands limp beneath his as your shoulders shook.

“I’ll take you home,” He nodded, standing up and helping you to your feet. Your knees were still weak, your ankles protesting as they continued to bleed. You were sure they were going to get infected at this rate.

“You’re hurt?” He asked, his voice much softer than you had anticipated. You merely nodded in response.

He recognized those marks, they were from a specific snare that only reapers used. And, on the night of the hunt, they were banned. His jaw clenched in anger, he was trying his best not to explode, not to scare you. His rage would be wasted, after all he had already killed that bastard and his little band of low-lives. Just as he had suspected, they were all after you that night.

He stepped forward, opening his arms to pick you up. You jerked away, your body still trying to protect you - not sensing that the danger had passed. Or was it right? Jungkook was one of them, he had marked you, brought you here, he was just as dangerous.

“I won’t hurt you,” He said, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing, “You need my help.”

As reluctant as you were to admit it, he was right, you wouldn’t be able to walk all the way back with him, you were in far too much pain. You nodded slowly before inching towards him and allowing him to gently cradle you to his chest.

Jungkook paused once he adjusted you in his hold. Your face was still stained just as badly as the rest of him despite your frantic attempts to clean yourself. The makeup that has once been on your face was smudged and dissolved by your tears. But, you had made it. He knew he chose you for a reason, you had ran the farthest, you had outrun so many men and the ones you couldn’t he and his wolf dispatched.

His heart thumped in anxiety as he looked over his shoulder where the bloody snare laid. You had been so close.

Another two feet, and you would have broken their borders and had been free to go.

~~~~~~~

The bonfire was still burning just as strongly as it had been at the start of the hunt. That led you to believe that it had not lasted as long as you thought it would. The reapers were proficient hunters and killers just like the Direwolves that protected their lands. It was foolish to believe that anything about this would have been challenging for them.

Upon your arrival you were met with the sight of a substantial crowd. All of your fellow runners were there each in a different state of despair and disbelief. But besides them, there were many newcomers that you had not seen before. There were families, large families. Mother’s occupied with their babies, young children giggling as they chased one another, and the glowing eyes of the Direwolves surveying, their massive bodies folded into themselves as they laid on the ground by the tree line.

They were on guard, not from outside threats, but guarding the way out. It would be suicide for anyone who tried to leave. You had seen what those wolves could do, you would not dare try to leave with them here.

“What is this?” You asked Jungkook who had set you down on a soft cushion a fair distance from the fire.

“A celebration,” He explained “For good fortune and prosperous futures.”

Prosperous futures? What future could anyone have after this? That was of course, if he was lying to you. If he didn’t know that you knew what all of this was really about.

“So it has nothing to do with the fact that you chose me to be your wife?”

Jungkook flinched, his doe eyes widening in surprise before a small smile crept onto his lips, “You figured it out then? I knew you were smart, that was one of the reasons I chose you. I could see the cleverness in those eyes from a mile away.”

You shifted uncomfortably underneath his stare before straightening your spine, attempting to appear far more confident than you felt.

“I’m not yours, I never will be.”

His lips twitched into a frown, “You were mine the second I laid eyes on you. You accepted my gifts, my proposal, and I caught you fairly. This may not be conventional in your village but it is tradition in mine. You bare my mark, you followed me here willingly, and we completed the ceremony. You are mine and I am yours in a way that is far more binding than any church could declare. Do you understand me?”

He was thoroughly angered, you could practically feel the heat simmering off of him, stronger than the fire that was not too far away. You watched as he stood, dragging one of several large barrels filled to the brim with water over to you. He grabbed a spare cloth and dunked it into the water before dropping down to his knees and beginning to clean your hands and feet, removing the dirt and blood from beneath your nails and the wounds on your ankles.

You watched him work for a moment, his brows furrowed in irritation as well as focus. Behind him several reapers watched on in astonishment, several looks of surprise as well as disapproval coloring their features.

“Why are they staring at us?” You whispered, curling into yourself from the attention.

“It is tradition for the spouse to cleanse the reaper after the ceremony, not the other way around,” He mumbled, grabbing a new cloth for your face.

His intense, dark eyes bore into your own as he cleaned the blood from your cheeks, “I am willing to break tradition for you, rules for you, does that not prove that I am yours as much as you are mine?”

Your heart thumped against your will. Adoring words like those should not leave the mouth of a killer so easily.

“I can’t be yours.”

“And why is that?”

“I,” You swallowed harshly, the words burning your tongue before your could even form them, “I am promised to Lord Ilseong.”

Fire blossomed in his eyes, those dark coals igniting in an instant. You had never seen hatred grow so quickly in a man or woman’s eyes before and it genuinely frightened you.

“Lord Ilseong?” He hissed, his strong shoulders squared and tensed.

“Y-yes,” You stuttered, unnerved by the sudden shift in demeanor, “He will come for me, you must know that. I am his betrothed.”

Jungkook said nothing, instead he quickly rose to his feet and grabbed you firmly by the wrist, pulling you in the direction of his cabin where his wolf still laid in waiting. You struggled to keep up with his pace, stumbling over your own feet as you were nearly dragged by him into his home.

“What are you doing?! You said you would take me home!”

“And I did not lie to you, this is home, our home now.”

“Lord Ilseong-”

“Say his name one more time,” He warned as he fixed you with an intense glare, “One more time, and I’ll make sure mine is the only one you’ll be able to remember.”

You froze, your body refusing to move as you were pinned in place by his intimidating glare. You had been tossed from one fire into another. From one lecherous old man to a wild young one. You had yet to decide which was worse.

“Why do you hate him so?” You asked, surprised you were able to voice such a question when he was clearly on edge.

He laughed, a bitter and cruel sound. You could see his shoulders shaking in barely contained rage. He did not hate him, he loathed his entire existence.

“Why do I hate him?” He echoed, his jaw clenched tightly, “Lord Ilseong is my father.”

You couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping, he had taken you completely by surprise. Jungkook looked nothing like Lord Ilseong, Jungkook was far too beautiful. But, if you looked hard enough, the faintest traces of him were there, in his jaw and brow, but for the most part you could conclude that Jungkook was blessed with his mother’s features.

“That…that’s not possible! The lady was never able to conceive a child. Lord Ilseong has no children.”

“None that were legitimate. No, I am his bastard. And I had quite a few siblings to show for his unfaithfulness. He sought out any pretty face he could and took them with or without their regard. That is something that all reapers have in common, we are the rejected children of nobility and we have come to reap what they have sown.”

You could see it now. Many of the reapers you had seen at the fire were painfully attractive, the offspring of beautiful people who had been abused and taken advantage of. And in turn they were rejected by those who had given them life. But just like the nobility they had been born from, they too were tainted with corruption, that much was evidenced by your capture and what had almost transpired before Jungkook had slain that man in the forest.

“That is why he wishes to marry me, to finally have a legitimate child to continue his legacy.” You confirmed. You had thought before he was a perverted old man, and that much was true, but he had much bigger plans.

“He what?!” Jungkook was seething.

“That was what he told my father, he wished for me to give him many children.”

As soon as you were finished speaking, you could see him snap. He grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to the back of the house where his bedroom was. He slammed the door shut and pushed you firmly in the chest causing you to stumble back onto his bed.

“He has taken everything from me, but this I will finally take from him.” He said, tugging your skirt up just as he had done the week before spurring a squeal from your lips.

The red mark was still there on your thigh. No amount of scrubbing from you or your mother has managed to remove it from you skin. You gasped as he dropped to his knees and leaned over you, pressing a fervent kiss to the mark while his hand gripped your other thigh.

“This means that you are mine, I found you first, I chose you first. You have a purpose here, you are important here. Make no mistake I am not giving you a choice, you will not return to him. But if you try to run know this, a life with him will be one of misery and suffering. Here, I am offering you my love, my soul, whatever it is you desire. But in return I desire the same. And if you were to offer those to anyone else I would kill them without hesitation.”

You sat there in shock. Never had a man ever knelt before you in such a position, in submission. No man had ever declared such a violent love for you.

You knew, despite Jungkook’s vehement denial, that you did have choices and there were three.

The first was to return with Lord Ilseong when he inevitably came for you. And what would come of that. A life of misery, Jungkook had said. You would be doomed to marry a man nearly thrice your age, endure a horrific wedding night and several more like it until you missed your cycle, and then give birth. And that would continue over and over again until he died, an endless cycle to ensure he would have a pool of children to choose from in the event that his first born perished or, worse in his eyes, was a girl. And the thought of him, his wrinkled hands, touching your body had your stomach churning. You would rather fight the Direwolves.

The second was to run, to go back home. But that posed several problems. For one, your father would never take you back. You would become his greatest disappointment just as quickly as you had become his pride. He would send for Lord Ilseong and your fate would be sealed. Or, more likely, Jungkook would find you first. And you knew then that your family would no longer be safe.

The third option, the final option, was just as difficult as the first. And that was to stay with Jungkook and his reapers. To be his wife. You would be trapped with the man who had captured you, who had stolen you from your home. You would stand by for years on end, watching the cycle continue as people were either slaughtered for money, or were captured to be wed. But, you would still have some freedom. You wouldn’t be “broken like a mare” as his lordship has said. You would still be where you thrived, in nature. And your “husband” would not be an old decrepit man. As unwilling as you were to admit it, the thought of Jungkook touching you was not entirely repulsive. Had he been another village boy, had he been sweet, innocent, and kind, you would have jumped at the chance to be betrothed to him.

Jungkook was the lesser of evils.

“Let me have you,” He said, his hands stroking slowly up and down the expanse of your thighs which had pressed themselves together tightly out of not only anxiety but something else all together. It was a horrible, addicting blend.

And you couldn’t help but think to yourself, what better way to spite that old man than to lose your innocence to his bastard. You knew that Lord Ilseong would come, without a doubt he would not let you be free. But when he came with his army and slaughtered the reapers you would be free. Jungkook would be dead and the Lord would not take you, you who were no longer a virgin and tainted by his illegitimate son. Jungkook was right, you were clever.

You finally met his gaze, his head still craned up to look at you. There was something enticing about having a powerful man on his knees. You had never had power, you were always the pawn.

And so, when his hands moved higher, fiddling with the hem of your undergarments, you did not stop him. As nervous as you were, frightened as you were, this was a part of your plan and you would see through it. You would do it if it meant you could have your freedom.

And anyone else was better than Ilseong. Especially the attractive man that knelt before you like a devout worshiper at his altar. If you were lucky, he would not make it hurt.

A desperate sigh left his lips as he rolled your skirt up over your hips and hastily removed your undergarments before pulling you to the edge of his bed and forcing your legs over his shoulders as his head disappeared in between your thighs.

You shrieked in surprise as you felt his lips meet the skin of your inner thigh. His hands were holding your hips tightly, preventing you from moving as he left long, lingering kisses there. His lips were surprisingly soft, wet, and warm, creating an unfamiliar ache at the apex of your thighs. Your hips twitched without your permission, writhing in an attempt to get him to do something your body understood better than your mind. His soft laugh vibrated against your thigh, his dark eyes shooting up to look at you in a way that could only be described as mischievous before he ducked his head down and his lips met a place you had not dared to touch.

A cry of shock broke free from your lips, your head falling back and your chest heaving in pleasure.

“W-what? Jungkook wait-” You stuttered in confusion, your words easily silenced by the strokes of his tongue.

The entire inner workings of what happened between a husband and wife on their wedding night was a mystery to you. And that was not your fault. Mothers and fathers often kept that from their daughters, too afraid to tell them too much lest they learn how to rid themselves of their virginity before they marry. Your mother had told you enough the day you were to be sent to Lord Ilseong, but this, this was a far cry from what she had told you.

Despite your pleas he did not slow down, in fact he only became that much more enthusiastic. Your arms turned to jello, collapsing out from underneath you sending your back down to the mattress as your legs shook around his head. You could feel him groaning against you sending vibrations all throughout your core, it was like he was the one receiving immense pleasure and not you.

It felt like he wanted to devour you.

He broke away once to catch his breath, his shoulders heaving as he panted.

“So pretty for me,” He mumbled, his voice much lower than before and riddled with lust.

You jolted with a strangled moan as he pressed a long, lingering kiss to that place once more before his fingers firmly stroked up and down the length of your sex, just barely sinking in to your entrance in a teasing manner that had your hips bucking pitifully against his iron grip. He would to decided to give you what you needed when he wanted to. The chase had been great fun, but the capture was the true reward and he planned to thoroughly enjoy it.

“So sensitive,” He laughed, pushing your hips down, “Have you never been touched before?”

Your eyes were clenched shut, your mouth twisted into a frown as he continued his touches that still left behind a pleasant thrum but also an intense ache as he deliberately avoided every part that would provide you pleasure.

As soon as he realized you weren’t paying attention his withdrew his fingers and you could only whine from the lack of his touch.

“I asked you a question,” He said, very clearly waiting for your response.

“No,” You admitted despite your embarrassment.

His face was set with determination and glee, he was happy to know that he would have you first in every aspect.

You wriggled away from him as he stood up, joining you on the bed and attempting to remove your dress. You had never been exposed to someone else before and while you felt desire burning inside you the thought of him seeing you bare was frightening. But he smiled at your bashful actions and he knew that he would have to rid you of your clothes quickly.

You froze as he removed a very familiar knife from the strap on his leg, your heart beating louder than thunder. Maybe he had been planning to kill you all along, maybe he was finally going to do it.

But instead of killing you like you thought he would, he pulled your dress taut and with one impressive slash slit it open from the bottom to the top. Your chest heaved against the cool metal of the blade that now rested at your breasts - the feeling just as exhilarating as it was frightening.

“Easy, little lamb,” He cooed, setting the knife aside, “What use would I have for a lovely, dead, wife?”

You watched in awe as he stripped down, revealing every inch of honey skin and toned muscle. But, more surprisingly, and arm full of tattoos. He had always kept one arm bare and the other covered. The covered one hiding the collection of inked markings on his arm as well as the reaper’s mark on his chest, the mark that you shared with him on your thigh. He quickly noticed where your attention strayed to.

“Each one signifies something different. Some of them are milestones, ranks, and others represent kills,” He explained, grabbing your hand and resting it on his bicep, encouraging you to touch him.

Your fingers smoothed over the scarred skin, enraptured by the sight. You had never seen so many markings on one person. You could only assume Jungkook had killed many, many people.

He sighed at the feeling of your touch, eagerly wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you onto his lap, pressing your chest against his firmly so that there was no space left in between you two. Your body was rapidly heating up, the feeling of his strong thighs and hardened manhood beneath you only making the fire in your veins burn hotter.

He gently cradled your jaw with one hand, the other spread over your ribcage just beneath the swell of your breast. And, with a surprising tenderness, he pressed his lips against yours in a soft, slow, sweet kiss. But it did not remain soft for long, his hold grew firmer, his kisses more intense and hard like he could not get enough of you, like he needed you more than air itself.

And, with a flood of heat, you realized that he had kissed you in-between your legs before stealing your first kiss from your lips.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” He whispered against your mouth, misreading your trembling body, “I’ll never hurt you, I only want to pleasure you.”

And he followed through on his promise. You had never thought that hands that could bring death could also bring pleasure, but you had been mistaken. In the veil of darkness, under the absence of the moon, the two of you indulged in a night of debauchery.

You had been told that this night would be painful, that you would cry and wish it had never happened. But instead you had found immense satisfaction and a desire for more. While your life had been riddled with misfortune you had been granted one ounce of relief - Jungkook was a gifted lover. So gifted in fact that you found yourself unwilling to part from him, your hold on his body almost as strong as his grasp on you. Your nails had found themselves embedded in his back, raking down the once smooth skin and leaving marks of your own on him. You were certain that your inner thighs would be bruised from just how tightly you encircled his waist. You had allowed a part of yourself to escape that you did not recognize.

“My good little wife, taking me so well,” He had moaned into your ear, his hips desperately rutting against yours. “Absolutely perfect for me.”

And he continued on like that, whispering praises into your ear and bringing you to the edge over and over and over again, his stamina prevailing even as you weakly mewled and attempted to draw away from him, every inch of your body screaming in oversensitivity but even then that pain felt horribly good.

“You can take another, for me, I know you can handle it,” He growled out from behind gritted teeth, at this point he had become more animalistic than man.

“I can’t -”

“You can, and you will.”

That was something you had come to learn about Jungkook. He always followed through on his promises as well as his threats.

When he had finished for the second and final time he held you close to his chest, the scent of sweat and intimacy still fresh in the air as you unwillingly began to doze off, all of your energy completely drained from your body after not only the intense coupling but all of the energy you had expended prior running for your life.

But as you drifted off you were reminded of exactly why you had done this in the first place. You still were meant to leave, you still craved your freedom.

All it took was one sentence from Jungkook to remind you of your plan. As long as you stayed complacent you would never be free.

“I can’t wait to see what you’ll like, round with my children.”

This was what he had meant by “prosperous futures.”

~~~~~~~

The next morning you were abruptly awoken by the scent of smoke thick in the air and the sound of harsh pounding on the front door.

The space beside you was empty and faintly warm, Jungkook had been up for a little while. You could hear his voice now as well as another reaper’s.

“What is it?” Jungkook’s voice.

“We’ve spotted a decent band of soldiers a few miles out, they definitely belong to a nobleman from the crests they carry. They’ve set fire to the forests, they’re trying to burn everything down in sight - they’re either looking for us, someone else, or both.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Not much, the scouts we sent ahead have returned so I imagine that the soldiers can’t be that far behind. We’ve been ordered to to go ahead and assume our positions, the rest will evacuate.”

“Is that necessary?”

“For now, yes. For everyone else’s sake, they’ll only get in the way. Once we clean this mess up everyone will be escorted back. But we need you too, we can’t do it without you.”

“I understand,” Jungkook reluctantly said, “Thank you, Hoseok.”

You sat up in bed, the blanket tightly wrapped around your body as Jungkook came in. He looked distressed not because of the impending fight, that he was familiar with, but because you would be leaving. And while he wished he could trust you after what happened the night before, he knew that he couldn’t. When given the opportunity to flee, he was certain his little lamb would run for safer pastures.

He dressed you quickly, helping you pull on a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of pants, men’s clothing. You had never worn men’s clothing before.

“Easier to run in, if they come for you, you have to be ready to run.” He explained, bending down to help you lace up the boots on your feet.

“Don’t be afraid, Fang will protect you while I’m gone.”

“Fang?” You asked.

“My wolf.”

So, that was its name. How uncreative.

Jungkook paused, his brows pinched in stress as he looked at you. This was happening too quickly. He thought he had some time before Ilseong and his men would come, time that would get you to trust him.

He stepped forward, cradling your face before pressing his lips to yours again. You had found that each kiss with Jungkook was different and new. This one was desperate, this one felt like a promise, a promise to see you again.

“I love you,” He said, his dark eyes wide and glistening, “Come back to me.”

You could only stare back at him, you refused to make a promise you could not keep. You were going to try to leave if you could and you would not lie to him.

Fang was waiting outside, pacing impatiently and whining in the back of his throat. The Direwolf was agitated, you would be too if your home was burning.

“Follow him, he will take you somewhere safe. I will see you again, that is a promise.” Jungkook said before giving you one more final parting kiss and melting into the tree line.

Jungkook always followed through on his promises and his threats.

A few moments later you heard the cries of wounded men from the forest. The soldiers had arrived and they had not anticipated the reapers armed with bows and arrows high in the trees. It was foolish to try and ambush trained killers, that was something you had forgotten. The chances were that Jungkook would not die today, no, that army would. You had to move, now.

Fang moved swiftly beside you and, to your surprise, split off from the evacuating party. He was taking you somewhere else, perhaps a safe place the Jungkook had in case something like this were to happen. A place where he could find you again.

You were caught in a rock and a hard place. You had seen Fang tear into that reaper the night before, you had watched him consume him with no regret. He and Jungkook were bonded, but you were not. You did not want to test him and see if he would deliver upon you the same fate. It was another waiting game.

Your only other plan would be to follow him to the safe point and try and make your break from there. But, even then, you were certain that Direwolves had impeccable senses. And, like the reapers, Fang would have no problem hunting you.

The massive wolves' steps were hard to keep up with, you were practically jogging in an attempt to stay by his side. He was tense, his ears flicking now and then as he listened for a threat, his piercing blue eyes scanning the trees. Direwolves seemed far more human than regular wolves, especially with their intelligence.

Fang froze, sniffing the air rapidly before his hackles raised and a deep growl left him that was so loud it shook the ground beneath you. He backed up, his large body shielding your own as he waited for the threat to emerge.

And it was quite a threat. Lord Ilseong had not only sent one army but two. One surveying and burning one side of the forest, and another scouting the other side. And they too were armed, smaller than the other force, but still armed.

Fang lunged instantly, his jaw snapping down on three men at once and wildly shaking them around like they weighed nothing while blood and their screams filled the air.

And then you were off.

Once more, you had found yourself running for your life in the woods. Although this time you were much more efficient. The clothes Jungkook had given you were, in fact, much easier to run in. And now that the sun was out the forest was perfectly illuminated allowing you to see every fallen tree, root, and stump in your path.

You were going to run until you couldn’t anymore. This time, this time for sure you would make it out, you would be able to be free again.

At least, that was what you had thought, that was what you had hoped for. You had been wrong.

The trees were beginning to thin out, and what you had thought to be the clearing to a village turned out to be the small resting place of the noble army that had been abandoned save for guardsmen and of course, Lord Ilseong himself.

“My bride, there you are!” He called excitedly causing you to stumble backward, ready to begin running in the opposite direction but you were quickly stopped by his guards behind you.

“I have been looking all over for my pretty little bride, when my men found your carriage overturned we had assumed the worst.” He explained, coming to stand right in front of you leaving you with no exit to run to.

“What is this that you’re wearing?” He sneered, “What happened to the robes I sent you?”

He was more worried about the damn clothes than you, not that you cared at all what he felt for you but if he claimed to want you as his Lady you would think he would show an ounce of worry for your state of being.

“They were stolen from me, forgive me.” You said, your hands clenched into fists.

Lord Ilseong did not care, his beady eyes were still trained on the shirt and pants that donned your body.

“These are a man’s clothes!” He yelled, grasping the collar of the shirt and jerking it so strongly that it tore, the fabric falling to expose the column of your neck, your collarbones, and your left shoulder.

“Infidelity!” He screamed, rage burning red under his skin as he saw the marks that Jungkook had left the night before. A good portion of your body was littered with bruises but that spot was by far the worst, deep dark marks were clustered together along with a clear bite mark.

“It-it’s not what you think your grace!” You cried in an attempt to save yourself. Your eyes were burning and your heart was pounding, you knew what was going to come next.

“Do you know what the price of unfaithfulness is?” He hissed, his men forcing you down to your knees before him.

You whimpered as you heard the familiar sound of a sword being unsheathed, the metal glinting in the sun as it was passed to Ilseong.

“The penalty is death.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as warm tears attempted to fall. You refused to cry this time, you were done crying. And now, as you faced your certain death you refused to show this man your tears. This man was punishing you for a crime you did not commit against a relationship you did not have. A relationship you never wanted.

“What a shame, I had such high hopes for you, but you were just another common whore.” He seethed as he raised the sword above his head.

A sharp whistle shot by your ears and then another, the sound of something cutting through the air quickly. And almost immediately after two loud thuds sounded.

You cracked open your eyes to see the two guards laying limp on the forest floor, an arrow embedded in each of their throats. You peered over your shoulder and there, blending into the shadows of the trees sat a reaper high up in its branches. He was the man from this morning, Hoseok.

And if Hoseok was here, that meant -

Two more arrows sliced through the air, one piercing Ilseong’s left hand causing him to drop the sword and scream in pain only for another arrow to pierce his right hand. Both of his arms were spread out, each hand pinned to a tree and unable to move. He was defenseless.

Jungkook emerged from the shadows and behind him, Fang followed closely. Blood was matted into his fur, some was his own but the majority of it was not.

And Jungkook, he was trembling in rage.

“All you do is take. You took my mother from me, her life, my sibling's lives, and then you steal my wife from me not once but twice. Your judgment had been long awaited by not only myself but everyone under your rule.”

For the first time, Ilseong looked frightened like he was staring death in the face. Not unlike how you had been moments before.

“I promise you that I will take everything from you. Your riches, your land, and your life. That, that is the penalty for trying to murder another man’s wife.”

“J-Jungkook, I’m your father, have mercy, please!”

“Did you show my sisters mercy when you slaughtered them in their sleep? Or my brothers when you had your men shoot them down in the fields? Or my mother when you strangled her to death?!” He said, his voice growing louder and louder as his rage rolled off of him in waves.

“Please, I’ll give you whatever you want, anything!” Ilseong begged, his eyes wide in fright and panic.

“I want your life,” Jungkook said before picking up the sword from the ground and began hacking away without hesitation, once, twice, and three times until Ilseong’s head came lose from his neck and fell away his body going completely limp - only being held up by the arrows that still kept his decapitated body upright.

You couldn’t stop the raw scream that ripped freely from your throat. You had never seen a sight so horrific before, so violent and unforgiving. That image would forever be burned in your mind, haunting you each time to tried to sleep.

You watched in horror as Fang approached, grabbing what remained of Ilseong in his strong jaws and ripping his corpse free from the tree, dragging it back into the forest where he would no doubt be consumed.

“You shall reap what you sow.” Jungkook and Hoseok spoke in unison like it was a ritual.

Jungkook’s shoulders finally relaxed, the sword dropping from his hand as he turned to look at you. Blood was heavy on his face, covering the left side of it almost entirely. But he still smiled at you, the blood on his face making his teeth seem unbearably white only making your stomach turn ten times worse.

You whimpered in fright as he approached you, settling down in a crouch in front of you before tugging you into his arms. The scent of blood was ever stronger now as his hands smoothed up and down your back.

“Remember what I told you little lamb?” He grinned, “Without hesitation.”

#bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #bts fanfic #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader #mercenary jungkook #fantasy au #bts fantasy au #jungkook fantasy au

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bonny-kookoo · 6 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐄𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐞. | TEASER

There's magic in everything.

Tags/Warnings: Royal Warlock!Jungkook, Maid!Cat Hybrid!Reader, Magic!AU, realistic Fantasy, sci-fi, Strangers to lovers, Fluff, Romance, Angst, mentions of war, Injury, Violence and blood, Smut

Length: ???

There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Patreon-Exclusive.

A/N: due to fantasy stories never doing very well here on tumblr, Exhale will be posted on Patreon only. I've also lost my job, so currently, Patreon is one of the only ways to make money right now. Please understand that I'm gonna advertise it more often due to that. Thank you for your understanding.

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"You'll feel at home soon, Sir Jungkook." You say as you place the plate of his food in front of him, his dark eyes looking up at you.

They don't scare you. Neither does the fact that he draws his powers from.. well, not the light. He's shown by now that he still has a kind heart, even if it's a bit hidden and cluttered with other things he deems more important. "I do not need to feel welcome here." He denies, starts to eat quietly, averting his gaze from you.

"Sure, you do not." You respond, turning around to wash the other's dishes in the sink. Jungkook's eyes raise at that, focusing on the way your tail sways from side to side softly.

Your dress looks a lot more.. tailored to you, than he's used to see on maids. In fact, everyone appears to be dressed in clean, and well made clothes that still fit their status and job- but don't appear to be simply given from one to the next. Kim Seokjin knows every staff's name in fact, and does not seem to really draw a line in who he speaks to and who he does not.

Odd.

"But doesn't it feel better?" You ask, singing to yourself as you wash the plates.

Jungkook doesn't respond, simply thinks. He doesn't have to feel at home here. Once King Seokjin doesn't have any use for him any longer, he will be sent out once more. The less connections he makes here, the less he will be driven away from his path. He doesn't need friends, or a home.

He's learned that many times in his life. It'll only hurt.

"How long have you been working here?" Jungkook asks as he rips off a piece of bread to eat. You dry your hands, and sit at the table with him, stretching out your legs beneath if for a moment.

"Hm.. I was living here since Jin-.. King Seokjin was still a prince, Sir." You answer. "I was born in the nearby forest village. My mother became a maid when I was old enough to attend school." You remember.

"Explains your lack of respect for him in your tone." Jungkook says, not looking at you. You stiffen, ears pinning backwards.

"Ah- but I do have respect!" You almost whine. "It's just.. his crowning was years ago, I know. But.. on occasion, I forget the boundaries set by society." You sigh, leaning your chin on your hand. "Any other kingdom would've already had me beheaded." You giggle to yourself.

"Or at least exiled." He mumbles, biting another piece of bread.

It's good that you seem to be aware of the luxury you're experiencing inside this castle. As a mere hybrid maid, you're not much more in status than a dog- and yet, for some odd reasoning, the King himself treats you as much more, just like the other staff. The way he'd spoken to Jungkook, with such familiarity almost, had shown just how soft the King really is. He truly is in need of protection. God knows he probably has not fought a single time in his life.

Just as his food is finished, Jungkook notices your other hand that's not supporting your head. There's something on your palm he's not sure of, but the skin is clearly irritated. He motions for you to turn it over, and you do- scratches having reopened from washing the dishes earlier.

Either you're very dumb, or just very devoted to your purpose in this castle.

He's slow with his movements to give you a way to deny him- but you do not, instead even leaning forward a bit in curiosity to see what he's going to do, as he covers your hand in his own, silver rings bulky on his fingers. There's no glow, or anything really- not much is happening at all, apart from the tingling feeling underneath your skin, stinging from the cuts slowly ebbing away like it's dipped in cold water.

And when he removes his hands, your palm is covered in what looks like black soot almost.. but once you brush that off, the skin is healed- no scars remaining.

"Oh! There you guys are." Yoongi offers, walking closer into the kitchen, a hand on your shoulder as he stands behind you. "The king requests you, Jungkook. " He tells the warlock, who still feels oddly irritated by the man's lack of proper wording regarding him. "And you should clean up. It's late." He says much softer to you, and you nod.

"Look! sir Jungkook healed me!" You hold out your hand, and Yoongi clearly grows irritated, frustration clear on his face.

This is what Jungkook is used to. The anger, distaste, disgust even regarding his practices- this is what's comforting to him. He can work with that, knows that people like this man will not get unnecessarily attached to him and cause problems. He likes that-

"Yah, where'd you even get hurt again?!" Yoongi scolds you instead, however. "Be glad Jin didn't see, or he'd make you report to him daily again.. show me. Is it really healed.?" He mumbles, inspecting your hand, before he shakes his head at you, ears pinned back. "Thank you. She sometimes has the coordination of a dragon hatchling." He says towards Jungkook, and he's caught entirely off guard, eyes wide open and face clearly showing his surprise.

And you just laugh at that, happily so, before you tell him goodnight with a playful bow, running off after teasingly thanking Yoongi for washing Jungkook's dishes.

Which, yet again irritatingly enough, Yoongi indeed does do for you.

This castle is weird.

But fitting for its king, he thinks.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic

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bliss-in-the-void · 7 months

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Gege Akutami, You Do Not Understand Gojo Satoru, and Here is Why

I was reading this article to help me cope with the traumatic events of Chapter 236 when a certain portion didn’t sit right with me.

Long post, click to read the full analysis:

(this is probably the most important post I've made so far)

Now, we all know that Gege doesn’t like Gojo. They don’t make it a secret in the slightest. Which is fine in itself, as an author you are 100% within your right to hate a character you created, and I respect that—it gives dimension to the dynamic of a story.

What I don’t care for is the reasons Akutami lists for their dislike of Gojo.

Reason #1 as stated in the above blurb of the article: Gojo doesn’t have depth.

To me, this is a wild statement to make as an author, but especially as the one who wrote Gojo. Where does he lack depth? Genuine question.

I believe he is an incredibly complex character.

He is the first sorcerer in centuries to be born with the Six Eyes and Limitless techniques, which automatically sets up so many nuances. Coupled with the fact that Akutami has stated that he grew up spoiled, that right there should tell you some things about why he is the way he is. He has a bit of an inflated ego when it comes to his powers. And why wouldn’t he? From the time he was born, the people around him treated him like some sort of God. How else was he supposed to grow up? He’s told his whole life he possesses unparalleled power, and he’s going to believe that.

Even still, it really isn’t as unchecked as Akutami seems to believe it is. Despite his distaste for authority, Gojo still reports to the higher ups, goes on missions, exorcizes curses, and works collaboratively with his fellow sorcerers. If he was really the giant egomaniac Akutami argues that he is, he’d say ‘to hell with authority’ and run off to do whatever he wants like Yuki. I mean, COME ON, this guy is the most powerful modern sorcerer and he still attended all four years of high school. He could have easily never attended—who was going to stop him?

He has a peculiar sense of humor that can get inappropriately timed in certain moments, but it’s obvious that it’s a deflection and a coping mechanism for the horrors of a sorcerer’s reality. He doesn’t just joke about death and dying because he doesn’t care. He cares too much and he doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he suppresses and laughs it off. Moments like this are seen after Suguru dies in JJK 0 when he was clearly crying afterward, but had to put on a cheerful facade for Yuuta and the other students.

He is a very good teacher. It’s hard for a naturally gifted prodigy to effectively teach things which come automatically to them, and somehow he finds creative ways to do it. Teaching Yuuji to control cursed energy by using one of Yaga’s dolls and giving him a movie marathon? One of Yuuji’s favorite hobbies? Genius and so considerate for Yuuji. He’d just been thrown into the sorcerer world, learning all these new things, and Gojo decided to introduce a foreign concept to him through something familiar and comfortable to him. That is amazing, and the mark of a very kind, understanding teacher. He’s also really patient with his students. Yes, he gives them tough love sometimes by throwing them into missions, but it really is to make them strong. How else will they grow if they aren’t put under pressure?

His motivation for being a teacher is very selfless. He himself has stated that he isn’t suited to be a teacher, but that he has a dream to raise a generation of strong allies to prevent isolation from occurring like what had happened to Suguru. He felt guilty about growing apart from him, didn’t see the warning signs before he snapped, and regrets not being there for him more. His entire purpose now is dedicated to making sure the new wave of sorcerers have a tightly-knit network so that no one ends up alone and on a dark path like Suguru.

He constantly sticks his neck out for the helpless even when it’s far from his benefit. He paid off the Zenin clan to save Megumi, the child of the man who ruined his high school years and nearly killed him. He then raised him. He threatened the higher ups to keep Yuuta alive, and then did it again for Yuuji. He does this to preserve their youth, because his own was taken away from him. His whole life he’d been controlled by the higher ups and people around him because of who he is in the sorcerer world, so by waving his own status in front of authority to hold them back from his students, he acts as a sort of shield to take as many burdens off of their shoulders as he can so that they can remain carefree. As much as he can within his power.

With all of that being said, I really don’t understand where Akutami is coming from with lack of depth, but another argument I say to that statement is: well, you’re the author, give him the depth you think he’s missing. (Personally, I believe he’s one of the best-written characters in any anime I’ve seen).

Reason #2 is that according to Akutami, he doesn’t have a likable personality.

What about his personality is unlikable?

He is cocky, but not to the point where he stops caring about others, not to the point where he never considers how other people feel or how his actions affect other people, and not to the point where he never feels guilt and remorse about his shortcomings. Like I said, he lives his life trying to prevent his past from repeating itself, to save the fates of others.

I really don’t get it. In JJK 0, after Nitta gives her report on the shopping mall, Gojo thanks her and praises her. Would a cocky asshole do that? No. If you wanted to characterize him as unlikable, you could have made him dismiss her, or ignore her.

He makes pop culture references, he has endearing flaws like not being good at drawing, being a lightweight drinker, and overdoing it on the sweets. He’s funny, he’s kind, he’s considerate…he is a very likable character.

Honestly, the self-absorption he displays when he’s fighting is probably a result of his upbringing. Being told you have so much power you have so much power you have so much power over and over again instills this belief that yes, he’s needed by Jujutsu Society to fight curses as a weapon. As. A. Weapon. The Six Eyes & Limitless user is a formidable weapon, but what about Satoru Gojo, the person? The only time he feels useful is when he’s fighting curses. That’s where he gets his self-worth. We can see that expressed in this panel, from Chapter 236:

In the second half of Gojo’s second text bubble, he says, “でもどこかで人としてというより生き物としての線引きがあったのかな”.

This translates to: “But I wonder if somewhere there was a line drawn between being a creature rather than a person.”

Rather than having drew the line himself, being constantly treated like the strongest, being handed over the difficult missions, being relied on so heavily pushed him away from other people. It distorted the perception everyone had of him, and it distorted the perception he had of himself. He also believed he could never lose because he let his human side fade into the background. The world didn't need human Satoru Gojo, they needed sorcerer Satoru Gojo, the one who could bend rules to his will with his might, the one who could exorcise any curse and save the day no matter how bad things got. Why would he remain human when that part of him was treated as non-existent? The only person who did treat him as a person with weaknesses and flaws has been dead for eleven years. Of course that voice of reason is going to fizzle out.

How can you possibly vilify him for that? It would be a disservice to everything he has had to endure his entire life.

Reason #3 and the last point I want to touch on is when the article says, "Akutami believes that much of this adoration is based solely on his striking appearance, overshadowing his more abrasive personality traits."

Okay. Where to start?

Honestly, and I know this is probably not Akutami's intention, but that comes off as so condescending. It's so presumptuous. It's as if to say we're all going "ooh look at pretty man, pretty man do no wrong because too pretty" mindlessly with dilated pupils and drool coming out of our mouths. Uh. No.

Yes, Satoru is a good-looking character, but no, that is very far from why we like him so much as a character, and it's also very far from why he's so popular. Aside from all of the points I've made above explaining why he's so universally loved, I'll make another one that isn't superficial and tired.

He's so relatable.

This is a man so incredibly traumatized by his high school years that he is mentally and emotionally unable to move on. Suguru Geto was his very best friend, and for reasons he took too long to understand, chose to abandon their friendship for his own goals. For anyone who has grown apart from a best friend, this hits so hard.

Because of his upbringing it was hard to become close to anyone. But somehow, Suguru was able to break past his walls, and for that, he became entirely too dependent on him. This is common for anyone who finds it hard to make friends and get close to others. Once someone is allowed in, you cling so hard to them and imagine them being there for your entire life. So, when they leave, you take it entirely too personally.

Everyone has a right to live their own lives, and as we see with the divergence of Suguru and Satoru, sometimes our paths aren't leading to the same place. It's not personal. But Satoru took it personal, and that's so beautifully human. When you lose a best friend who was important to you, you think "I like being around this person, they put me at ease in a way no one else does", and you assume they feel the same way about you. So when they leave and show you that no, they didn't feel the same, it hurts. It's almost as if they're saying "I actually do think you're unlovable like everyone else, that's why no one likes you, you are too much."

Someone you thought was safe, isn't anymore.

That is such a relatable thing to watch a character go through! Especially someone as awe-inspiring and charismatic as Gojo! As an audience, we think, "he's just like me!" and we like him for it.

So, as I stated in the title, Gege Akutami, you don't understand Satoru Gojo at all. I commend you for writing such an amazing, iconic, universally loved character, but I will never understand nor respect the superficial way in which you perceive him.

#i know this is very extra #so don't attack me #but i do make some good points and i really just needed to get it out there #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujukai #jjk spoilers #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo analysis #gojo #gege akutami #jjk analysis

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ladylooch · 2 months

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Love & Fairness -[Nico Hischier]

A/N: OPE! I LIED!!!! We do have a full fic for Sunday! The Nico and Lexi angst I've been hinting at for months from that original lil blurb. Hope you all enjoy a little roller coaster for our perfect parents.

Word Count: 4.3k

Timeline wise: Nico and Lexi are married. Lucie is between 1-2. Mack and Sophie are not born.

The night is coated with cozy nostalgia in a dimly lit Hoboken restaurant. Lexi sits with her former nursing coworkers, discussing the most ridiculous patient and staff stories from the hospital since the last time they all connected. Lexi is embarrassed to admit that she hasn’t been able to attend one of these meet ups since Lucie was 3 months old. Her daughter is over a year old now. But life has been hectic with her and Nico’s new addition, plus the long stretches of hockey the Devils have been playing.

It’s all worth the sacrifice to watch Nico hoist the cup above his head. Soon, Lexi thinks. Soon he will reach his dream and then maybe the pressure can ease a bit.

With two fingers, she twirls the stem of her now empty martini glass as Gretchen whines about the limited available to take time off with how short staffed the hospital is.

“We need more people. They can’t even find nurses through the program Lexi came here on.”

“Really?” Lexi’s eye raise in surprise. “It was so competitive when I started there.”

“The pandemic has thinned the desire. Plus working conditions are awful.” Lexi nods. The circumstances weren’t great when she left either.

“Honestly, even if we could find part time people it would help alleviate the pressure.” Ashley mutters, throwing her curly red hair back over her shoulder. The table pauses. Then collectively, they all glance Lexi’s way, including Shawna, who had been relatively quiet.

“What? Me?”

“You were just talking about how boring and mundane your life has been. Maybe… coming back part time would help fulfill your sense of purpose.” Ashley shrugs.

“Lex, things haven’t been the same since you left. We could really use your sunshine right now.” Gretchen adds on.

“I am raising my daughter. That is my priority.” Lexi hears herself say the same thing her and Nico have talked about since Lexi became pregnant. But inside her body, a bubble of hope and excitement fills her chest. It starts as a tiny, translucent circle and begins to grow the more the two women encourage her to reconsider.

“Raising Lucie is incredibly important.” Shawn agrees. “This wouldn’t detract from that, especially on a part time basis. Think of your immediate impact! You haven’t been out of the industry that long. All your certifications are still relevant. You could easily slide in a few days a week, for 3-4 hours at a time. They’re even allowing part-timers to build their own schedule from week to week. It would be the perfect fit for you!”

“And they have daycare in the hospital now! You could bring Lucie there. Socialization is so important for babies. You could have it all right there rather than scheduling a million mommy and me play dates.”

Lexi stares at her three friends in front of her, a slight smile on her face. The gears turn in her head, consider, contemplating, feeling excited at the prospect of returning to a profession she spent so many hours of her life working in. But the though of Brady looms over her head. Losing him took Lexi a long time to get through. She still wakes up at night sometimes, hearing the flat line of his monitor.

“I don’t think I could go back to pediatric. Not with Lucie.” Lexi shakes her head, sighing.

“You wouldn’t have to. They are fully staffed.” Gretchen assures. She begins to dig around in her purse. “Look, just call Aly. She would be excited to hear from you. The rest could easily get worked out.” Lexi takes Ally Schneider’s card, her former boss. Ally had been the one who held Lexi after she lost Brady. She was the one who sent Lexi home and she was the one who accepted her resignation a week later, with full grace and understanding. She would be compassionate and supportive of Lexi being a mother. Maybe this could work.

In a quiet room, in the back of her mind, a part of her pauses at the thought of bringing this up to Nico. He is so proud of Lexi being a stay at home mom and wife. He shouts it to anyone who will listen about Lexi’s important role in their household. She does worthwhile work for them. He puts he on a pedestal because of it.

Lexi decides that she will talk to Ally first, before she approaches it with Nico. After all, her friends have a clear agenda here. Maybe it wouldn’t be as simple and flexible as they are portraying.

So Lexi decides, before she talks to Nico, she will talk to Ally.

- - -

Later that week, Lexi steps out of her evening shower, onto the white, memory foam mat. Nico waits outside the glass enclosure, holding up a fluffy towel for her to step into. He wraps it around her back, then lazily stuffs one corner over the other into her breasts. Lexi grips the towel closed, knowing it won’t stay up like that. That may have been her husband’s agenda.

“Thank you.” She sighs, getting on her tip toes to kiss him. He crushes her into his chest, using his tongue to trace along her lip, then dash into her mouth. Lexi melts into his sexy warmth. Nico grips the towel at her hips, pulling her flush with him.

“You’re welcome. Luc is sleeping.”

“Finally.” Lexi sighs.

They had a hard night with Lucie. She was fighting sleep from the moment dinner ended, rubbing her eyes, and saying no to bed time, even to daddy. They both took turns rocking her, putting her in her crib, but nothing was giving. Finally, Nico took her to the couch with a warmed up blanket from the dryer. Lexi disappeared upstairs at Nico’s request. Between now and then, their little girl finally succumbed. Nights like this are becoming more prevalent for Lucie. Lexi is not surprised as their little girl is more toddler than baby these days. Both her and Nico need to buckle up for the upcoming roller coaster of their daughter growing up. She smiles at the thought. There is no one else Lexi would rather do this with.

How will you going back to work effect her? An inner voice whispers like a siren.

Lexi raises her green eyes to the mirror, staring at her expression. She looks worried. And she is. Because she has a job offer expiring tomorrow that she still hasn’t talked to her husband about. She never expected to walk out of her meeting with Ally three days ago with an offer of employment. She had told Ally she needed time to talk to Nico, but then the Devils lost two back to back games and Nico’s mood has been less than desirable for the conversation.

Beside her, Nico grabs his tooth brush then dots toothpaste on the bristles. Lexi assesses his mood, seeing him relaxed although a bit tired.

“Can we talk about something?” She begins while dabbing a finger into her moisturizer. She presses three generous dots in a triangle, then begins to smooth them into her face.

“Mhm.” He says around the tooth brush oscillating against his back molars.

“I think…” Lexi starts, then swallows loudly as she stop herself. Nico continues to brush his teeth, looking at her in the mirror. She pretends to smooth out more of her moisturizer on her neck. Her heart flutters heavily against her throat. When she doesn’t continue, Nico turns fully to look at her.

“What?” He mumbles around the white foam in his mouth. Her tongue caresses the side of her mouth anxiously.

Why is this so hard to spit out?

Nico spits out his toothpaste, then wipes his mouth.

“I think I want to go back to work.” She finally sputters out. Nothing about her voice sounds confident. Nico whips his head in surprise at her. He opens his mouth and then closes it, pursing his lips. Lexi immediately sense his annoyance.

“Okay? But, we have talked about how important it is for you to stay home with Luc? You’ve always agreed to that.”

“Yeah….” She trails off, sticking her tongue into the pocket of her cheek so it juts out. “But I’ve been thinking about what I want lately, as me, and I really miss working with patients and having a place to go outside of here.” Nico’s eyes widen, and he looks away, sighing.

“Okay.” He shakes his head. “I thought you were done with nursing after Brady.” Lexi doesn’t flinch at his name, but her heartbeat patters more heavily in her body.

“I thought so too, but it’s been calling to me the last few months. And I have an opportunity to go back.”

“I don’t see how that is going to work for our family.” Nico shrugs simply, already seeming done with the conversation.

“Well, can we talk about it? Because I talked with Ally-”

“What does you talking with Ally have to do with our family? Because you and I have already discussed this, before we had Lucie. You said you would stay home because I’m gone so much. How…” Nico scoffs, looking above her head, trying to find his words. “So what, someone else is going to come here every day and watch her? Or we drop her off at some day care center where random people are raising her?”

“They have a daycare at the hospital. She could go-”

“No. Our daughter deserves better than that.” Nico shakes his head vigorously.

“So you just unilaterally decide this for me then?”

“So you unilaterally get to decide to go back to work?” He shoots back at her. Lexi stand up completely straight, rolling her shoulders back.

“You don’t own me.” She hisses out unexpectedly. Immediately, she wants to take the words back at the fire igniting in Nico’s eyes. His cheeks begin to turn red in frustration while he forces a hand through his long, brown locks.

“When did I say that?” Nico snaps. His tone and voice are reaching places Lexi has never heard from him. Her eyes narrow at him, then she turns to leave the bathroom. Nico is hot on her heels. “You’re putting me in a position to be the asshole, Lex. You and I agreed you would stay home with our kids.”

“Well I need something more!” She huffs at him. “Emma gets to go be-”

“That’s Emma and Timo. Not us.” She startles, feeling like a scolded child by their parent. Tears begin to fill her eyes at the shame of his disappointed scowl.

“I’m allowed to change my mind.” She whispers to him, hating the way her lip trembles.

“Yeah you are, but not when it ruins our kid’s life.”

“Nico, that is so unfair.” Her tone wobbles at her words. Nico’s jaw tightens at the two drops that escape her lids. He looks away, large eyebrows jumping as he tries to brush the effect of her emotions away.

“I don’t care, Lexi.” Nico shakes his head again. “The answer is no.”

Lexi shakes her head in disgust before heading into their master closet to change. She cries as she pulls on her pajamas. When she returns with tears on her face, Nico doesn’t even care.

Instead, he climbs into bed and turns his back to her like a cold, distant monster.

- - -

Nico and Lexi don’t talk the whole next day. Not even about Lucie. They move around the house, avoiding each other. She goes to the store to grab groceries; he stays home with Lucie. They sit silently, watching TV during dinner. Lucie doesn’t seem to notice, snacking on her food and playing with her toys like everything is normal.

This continues into the following morning when Nico has to head out on a five game road trip. He dotes all over their daughter as Lexi’s resentment for him breeds into an ugly, angry tyrant in her mind. She doesn’t even let him kiss her cheek when he is about to leave. She slides away from him, turning her back on him like he did to her two nights ago. His heavy sigh makes tears sting her eyes, like she is the one in the wrong here.

“Lex.”

“Nothing about this will be resolved before you leave in the next two minutes. Travel safe.” She responds without turning towards him.

He stands there for a few more moments, rubbing his hand along Lucie’s head as she munches on her oatmeal. Internally, Lexi wonders if he will try to find some middle ground regardless of her words. But then Nico leaves without apologizing, or saying I love you, or providing any comfort like he usually does. She feels herself hating him a little bit more.

She doesn’t watch the Devils games that week.

She is so angry with Nico. They do nightly FaceTime calls with Lucie, but Lexi don’t speak to her husband. Nico gets more and more frustrated with her. It begins to bleed out onto the ice against the St. Louis Blues. Nico gets two penalties in the game, including five minutes for fighting. Of course, Lexi doesn’t know this because she is watching. She knows because Emma Meier shows up at their door with a bottle of rose the next day.

“What is going on?” She asks when Lexi opens the door. Lio is on her hip, munching on an apple sauce pouch as she strolls in. Emma is in dark wash, tight designer jeans and a tan, long sleeved crop top. Her hair is straightened and perfect, not even a hint of frizz from the rainy humidity earlier in the morning. She puts the bottle of rose on the counter, then goes to put Lio next to Lucie. She’s pulling her skin tight jeans back up her waist as she looks expectantly at Lexi. “Nico wouldn’t share anything with me. Timo couldn’t get it out of him either.”

“Of course not.” Lexi snorts, then rolls her tense neck muscles out. Emma nods her head at Lexi to continue. She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “I want to go back to work and the dictator of this house said no.” Emma widens her eyes.

“Nico said no?” The words seemingly taste awful to her as she says them.

“Yep. He told me if I go back to work I’m ruining our daughter’s life.”

“No.” Emma’s mouth opens in shock.

“Yes!” Lexi exclaims, reaching for the bottle of wine. She twists the top open, then takes two really big glugs. The acidity burns at her esophagus as she puts the bottle back down. Emma picks it up, taking a more delicate sip. She slowly blinks and shakes her head.

“Wow, I’m surprised.”

“Me too.” Lexi responds, sighing heavily. Tears prick at her eyes as she recounts the conversation from last week. She purses her lips, looking back at Emma.

“I don’t understand why he gets to make this decision for me?”

“He doesn’t.” Emma says simply. “This is your life. You have the right to do the things you want to do with it. Your partner needs to be supportive of that.”

“Nico doesn’t seem to see it that way.” Lexi looks out into the living room, watching as Lucie coos at Lio, holding up a large, red lego block. Lio takes it from her, then puts it next to a blue one.

“Oh we can’t do that one. Rangers colors.” Lio shakes his head. “Grab a green one, LuLu.”

“I’ll talk to him.” Emma insists after pouring two glasses of rose. “He is being unreasonable.”

“Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t.” Lexi sighs, tracing a circle onto the marble counter top, then looks up at her. “I think it would just make it worse.” Emma scans her sister-in-law, then nods in understanding.

This is one they’ll have to work through on their own.

- - -

The night Nico is due home, Lexi stares at the ceiling, replaying everything that has happened in the last two weeks. Life went from the mundane, same day over and over again, to this angsty, aching storyline of push and pull between a husband and wife. She went from having no job prospects, to receiving an offer, to turning it down. She hasn’t even told Nico. She doesn’t want to. Doesn’t feel like he deserves to know with the way he has been acting.

Her phone lights up the room as the garage camera catches Nico returning home from his late night flight from Colorado. Tears curve into the water line of Lexi’s eyes. Normally, after a road trip this long, she would gallop down the stairs excitedly to throw herself into his arms. He could catch her. They would make out like teenagers against the refrigerator, then he would carry her upstairs to make love.

Not tonight.

Her brain traces his path through the house from memory, knowing when he stops at Lucie’s room. Five minutes later, she hears him rustling with his bag outside and closes her eyes, pretending to be asleep so she can avoid an interaction with him. Her lip trembles as she shakily swallows to wet her dry throat.

Nico comes into the bedroom almost completely silent. He drops his things in the closet and presumably changes. Lexi’s chest aches when he comes to the bed and grabs his pillow afterwards. His footsteps are so silent, when his voice speaks from next to her, her heart jumped into her throat.

“Lex?” She startles at his touch. Nico grimaces. “I’m sorry… When I went in to kiss Luc, she was hot. She has a fever.” Lexi moves to get up. Lucie was fine when she checked her a few hours ago. “No, please. I’d like to take care of her myself.”

“You can bring her in here.”

“No, you deserve to sleep.” He reaches out tentatively for her cheek, cupping it briefly. “Goodnight. I love you.” It’s the first time he’s said it to her directly in a week. He moves to pull away and she grips his wrist.

“I love you too.” She earnestly looks into his deep, brown eyes. “But I am also so mad at you.”

"I know. You have every right to be.” He maintains direct eye contact when he says it. Lexi’s eyebrows furrow. “We will talk tomorrow.” He leans down tentatively and Lexi goes the other 50% until their lips meet. The kiss is sad and achey. Their lips crave the taste of the other, but can’t go all in like they want to. Lexi pulls away first, stroking her nose along Nico’s. She can feel his lashes against her forehead. Then he pulls away to go lay on the floor of their daughter’s room.

The next morning, Lexi is up first. She pokes her head into the guest room, seeing Nico and Lucie have moved there together. Lucie’s bare feet are pressed into Nico’s chest, cheeks pink, hair wild like it had been sweaty and dried sometime during the night. Lexi creeps in, pressing a hand to her toddler’s forehead. No fever. With that comfort, she tiptoes from the room again.

Downstairs, she makes herself a berry smoothie and settles into the couch with a book. She stays there for a bit, then begins to feel antsy waiting for her loves to wake up. She heads back upstairs, unpacking Nico’s bag completely and getting started on his laundry. She bring his three suits to the downstairs closet for dry cleaning to pick up tomorrow.

It’s almost lunch time when a sleepy Nico and Lucie come downstairs together. Lucie smiles at her mama around a pacifier in her mouth. Lexi arches a slender eyebrow at Nico. Lucie hasn’t had pacifiers for 6 months.

“I lost the battle.” He groggily mumbles. His long hair is flopping every which way. He hands their daughter over to Lexi, then kisses her head. “ ‘m gonna take a shower.”

Nico disappears back upstairs while Lexi gives Lucie some of her leftover smoothie. She sucks it up happily, babbling for some banana when she is done. Lexi is cutting that up when Nico returns downstairs. His hair is slicked back from his shower. He is dressed in new lounge sweats while texting on his phone.

“Do you want a smoothie?” Lexi asks him.

“No, I’m going to make myself some eggs. Do you want any?”

“No, I already ate.”

“Okay.” He wraps an arm around her waist from behind. Lexi resists the urge to tense, trying to purposefully relax her upper body. Nico rests his chin on one of her shoulders, then turns his nose into her neck.

“I was completely out of line last week.” He murmurs while staying there. Lexi scoops up the banana pieces and puts them in a small bowl for Lucie, then slides it across the counter to where she is in her highchair. Lexi puts the knife down and turns so her and Nico are facing each other. He keeps her enclosed in his arms with a palm resting on the counter, on either side her.

“Do you only love me because I’m the mother of your child?” Lexi ponders.

“No, Lex. I love you. The person. So much.” He finishes with a whisper. His eyes trace her face earnestly. Lexi nods.

“I turned them down.” She admits.

“I’m sorry.”

“And I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing that.” Lexi says pointedly.

“Fair.” Nico nods then swallows hard. “But I am.”

“Can I get an explanation?” Lexi asks. She reaches her hands out to rest on his hips, gripping the waistband of his joggers as an anchor.

“I’m having a hard time with how much I’m missing of Lucie growing up. And I put that fear into you last week. Like… I’ve been able to fall back on the idea that you’re here. And if you go back to work, what will I have to ease my failures as a father?” He touches his chest delicately. Lexi lowers her gaze to his beaded bracelets. She moves one of her hands up to hold his wrist. “If this is what you need to do… to be happy… to feel what I get to feel when I step onto the ice every day, then I am in full support of you.”

She stares at his chest, letting his words sink in. As he always is, Nico is patient. When her eyes meet his again, they stare at each other wordlessly for a moment. She is wary. He can sense it.

“I know I hurt you and I’m so sorry.” He whispers. She nods her head in recognition of his apology.

“Nico, you are an amazing dad. It makes me really sad you feel like you’re failing our daughter. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.” She shakes her head, blowing out a sigh. “And I wish you would have shared that with me before it turned into this.”

“I’m embarrassed.” He shrugs. “I’ve been good at everything my whole life. Working so hard to overcome any obstacles.. but there are things I can’t give to Lucie and it kills me, babe.” The way he says babe wrecks her. Lexi moves his hand to the side so she can slide against his chest. Her fingers clutch at his muscular back and dig into his scalp as she cradles their heads together.

“She is so lucky to have you, Neeks.” Lexi turns to kiss his stubbled cheek. He buries his nose deeper into her collar bone as she stroke along his spine. “I am too.” His large arms wrap around her waist, enclosing it completely.

“Tell me again?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me you are thinking about going back to work.”

“I’m… thinking about going back to work?”

“Okay. Whatever you want to do is what works for our family. We will figure it out.” Nico murmurs. “That’s what I should have said to you. I’m sorry I didn’t.” Lexi smiles against his cheek. Nico turns, capturing her lips.

“I accept your apology.” She murmurs. “But I really did already turn Ally down.”

“I’ll call Ally. Tell her your husband was a fucking idiot last week, but he’s done with that.” Lexi chuckles, top teeth dragging over her bottom lip.

“I would like to try it. See if we can find a balance?”

“Yes, 100% yes, baby.”

Across the counter, Lucie squeals excitedly then throws her banana bowl onto the floor.

“Oh! LuLu is in too!” Nico cheers. “Yay mommy!!!” He claps around her back. Lexi chuckles, a whole body rumbling one as her and Nico separate. Nico grabs Lexi’s phone, sliding it across the counter. “Call Ally.”

Ally extends another offer to Lexi immediately on the phone.

Within an hour, Lexi has signed an offer letter and has orientation scheduled for the following Monday. Nico brings her to her first day of work, packs her lunch, and spends the whole time Lexi is working with Lucie in the day care, spending time with the kids, signing autographs for staff members and patients alike. By the end of the Lexi’s four hour shift, he is exhausted.

“No wonder you need a break.” He mumbles, exhaustedly running a hand over his hand. “And she isn’t even tired.” He points out about a babbling Lucie in her carseat.

“Welcome to my life.” Lexi smirks, then clicks her seatbelt in place. Nico wraps her hand in his, bringing it up to kiss along her knuckles. “So what’s for dinner stay at home dad?” Nico balks at her.

“McDonalds.” He chuckles, turning out of the parking lot.

With ease, the Hischiers settled into this adjusted life, until two pink lines show up a few months later on a test in their master bathroom.

Read more Nico and Lexi here.

#what my world spins around au #Nico Hischer x OC #Nico Hischier imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fan fiction

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multifan2022 · 8 months

Text

Fearless 4

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

"For those of you who don't know, my name is Eric," he says. "I am one of five leaders of the Dauntless. We take the initiation process very seriously here, so I volunteered to oversee most of your training."

You roll your eyes crossing your arms, trying diligently to avoid looking at Four who is staring at you. He knows you're avoiding him, which only makes him stare harder. It pisses you off that Eric is 'overseeing' anything. You specifically told him to stay out of it, hes just doing this to piss you and Four off. He has absolutely no training skills, he just gets off on being cruel.

"Some ground rules," he says. "You have to be in the training room by eight o'clock every day. Training takes place every day from eight to six, with a break for lunch. You are free to do whatever you like after six. You will also get some time off between each stage of initiation."

You shuffle from foot to foot again, the need to get out of here and away from the stress eating at you. But you stay in your spot and silent as Eric keeps speaking "You are only permitted to leave the compound when accompanied by a Dauntless, behind this door is the room where you will be sleeping for the next few weeks. You will notice that there are ten beds and only nine of you. We anticipated that a higher proportion of you would make it this far."

"But we started with twelve," protests Christina and you sigh seeing Four shake his head out of the corner of your eye. Clearly what you said to her earlier didn't stick, she was going to need to learn to stay quiet.

"There is always at least one transfer who doesn't make it to the compound" You say stepping forward to try and wrap up this dreadfully long speech. "In the first stage of initiation, we keep transfers and Dauntless-born initiates separate, but that doesn't mean you are evaluated separately. At the end of initiation, your rankings will be determined in comparison with the Dauntless-born initiates. And they are better than you are already. So I expect—"

"Rankings?" asks the mousy-haired Erudite girl "Why are we ranked?"

That anger that was flowing through you earlier, that is almost always right under your skin comes back. You could feel the RBF you always have morph into a true bitch face. It only took four strides to be right in her face, "I will only say this one more time today.. So EVERYONE LISTEN UP." Your voice raises towards the end of the sentence. The girl in front of you flinched slightly at your tone but you kept going.

"WE are your SUPERIORS! I do not give one flying fuck who you were in your old faction. If you want to make it through the next few weeks you will learn to shut your damn mouths. You do NOT interrupt us when we are speaking, and knock off all the bullshit questions. Everything will be answered in due time if you are QUIET."

You turn your back to the group and nod to Eric who smiles, and in the blue light, his smile looks wicked. He continues as you take a few deep breaths, curling and uncurling your fists. Four doesn't look at you this time, it almost hurts but you're so worked up you can't focus on that.

"Your ranking serves two purposes," he says. "The first is that it determines the order in which you will select a job after initiation. There are only a few desirable positions available. The second purpose," he says, "is that only the top ten initiates are made members."

All the initiates' faces drop, they must've thought that they all would get a place here. They really know nothing about the faction they moved too. You watch a few of them as they start to rethink their decision, but it's far too late now.

"There are eleven Dauntless-borns, and nine of you," Eric continues. "Four initiates will be cut at the end of stage one. The remainder will be cut after the final test."

"What do we do if we're cut?" Peter says and it takes everything in you to not say 'when you get cut'. "You leave the Dauntless compound," says Eric indifferently, "and live factionless." The mousy-haired girl clamps her hand over her mouth and stifled a sob. You roll your eyes, you know you're being kinda bitchy.

Life with the factionless is not one you would wish on many. But you are seriously wondering how these guys didn't do even a little research on who they were joining. It's no secret that you don't keep everyone who shows. It's no secret that a lot of the factionless came from Dauntless. It's not something you're proud of, but there's nothing you can do about it yet.

As the girl starts crying you hear Eric sigh as he turns to you and says "Pathetic" repeating the word you used on the train. You look back over the 16 year olds, watching the determination fall over Tris's face.

"But that is...not fair!" the broad-shouldered Candor girl "If we had known—"

"Are you saying that if you had known this before the Choosing Ceremony, you wouldn't have chosen Dauntless?" Eric snaps. "Because if that's the case, you should get out now. If you are really one of us, it won't matter to you that you might fail. And if it does, you are a coward."

Eric pushes the door to the dormitory open. "You chose us," he says. "Now we have to choose you."

Its raining as your feet pound the pavement. The cold water and even colder wind cooling your insides, as the pent up rage and stress leave. You know its been hours since you left, you know you really should be going back but your not ready.

You're not ready for the questions from Tori, Tris or Christina.

Not ready for the questioning looks Four will send your way.

But also not ready for the possibility that he wont look at you at all like earlier.

You know you lost your shit a little, but it was better you put her in her place over Eric. Hes vindictive and cruel. He would hold a gun to your head, or a blade to your throat like it was Sunday breakfast.

After another thirty minutes you turn towards the compound. Climbing the ladder to the roof, and launching yourself over the edge without pause.

Fearless. It was one word that you could always associate yourself with. Because at the end of the day what was the worst that could happen? When the net below caught your body you sighed in relief. Your muscles were burning, lungs aching from the cold air they were forced to breathe.

A deep voice next to the net startled you, "I wondered when you would come back."

You turned your head to the side, still not moving your body as you looked at Four. He smiled a little, relieved that you had calmed down. "You want to talk about whatever all that was earlier?"

You shake your head and make grabby hands in his direction, he chuckles before pushing the side of the net down allowing you to roll towards him. When you sit up he turns around letting you climb onto his back as he makes his way towards his room. Your cheek is pressed against his shoulder as your eyes get heavy.

You're tired in a way you haven't been in a long time. You wished that Tori hadn't put the weight of watching Tris on you, but you knew it was for the best. That didn't mean you had to be happy about it. OR that you had to be nice to her.

A slight blush filled your cheeks as he lifted and readjusted you on his back. Moving his hands further up your thighs, fingers digging into your skin threw the soak material of your leggings. You hadn't thought about the fact that you were soaked when he lifted you. But now wasn't the time to start caring, not when about 15 steps away was his room. Where everything was going to come off anyways.

He bent down slightly signaling for you to open the door. Pushing with one foot to let it swing open, resting your chin on his shoulder. Trying to ignore the fact he could probably feel the warmth radiating from between your thighs.

He didn't stop in the main area, instead making his way into the bathroom. Sitting you on the counter before turning around and setting his hands on either side of you. Bringing his face down so you are eye level with his dark blue eyes.

"So.. Are you ready to tell me what was going on." He said it more like a statement, it wasn't a question of if more like when. He was going to get it out of you, he just didn't know how far he would have to push.

You felt your teeth clamp down on your lip as you shook your head. When he sighed and turned around you felt relief flood into you.

For about a second.

Until he reached back and pulled his shirt off, fluidly turning the shower on just after. In that moment you knew you were in trouble, if he really wanted to know he would figure it out. Part of you wanted him to want to know.. Just to see how far he would take it. The other part was screaming just tell him now, before your to stupid to watch yourself.

When he turned back to you he was unbuckling his belt leaving it in the loops as he pushed his jeans off. Leaving him in just his black boxers, you had to force yourself to not look down. You already knew what was waiting for you, but didn't want to give him the satisfaction of looking.

The steam from the heated water started filling the air, making the small room feel smaller somehow. He was only one step away from you, so his hands easily found your hips pulling you off the counter. His eyes stayed on yours as he pushed your leggings down.

You tried to not laugh at the extra effort it took, them being practicality glued to your legs from the rain. But when you cracked a smile you were rewarded with his in return. And a beautiful smile it was. The way it lit up his entire face was breathtaking. Tobias Eaton was a beautiful man, scars and all.

Not that you would ever call him beautiful out loud. You had called him hot before, even sexy here or there. But beautiful seemed like it would cross the line the two of you had drawn. The line where it moves from friends with benefits to who knows what. You loved him too much, in too many ways to risk losing everything but alerting him to your feelings.

When he stood, he lightly drug his fingers up the back of your thighs. Gently squeezing your ass in a way you knew was meant to be teasing. When he was back to his full height he traced the straps of your bra watching his finger dip under it pulling before letting it snap back.

"Are you ready now?" He said slowly, that smile still in place on his face. You could tell that even though he wanted to know, he was enjoying the game he had barley started. And if he was enjoying it... Who were you to end it so quickly?

"I dont know Eaton.. Am I ready to tell you?" You said side stepping him as you pulled your bra off. His eyes followed you until you stepped into the shower, purposefully leaving the curtain open. He sighed through his nose as he watched your figured threw the fogged mirror.

When your raised your arms to pull your hair down you flicked your hair tie at him. Watching him chuckle as he stepped out of his boxers and into the shower.

@@coolestgirlhere @everydayisordinary

WARNING, THE NEXT CHAPTER IS SHITTY SMUT!

#tobias eaton x reader #four x reader #four eaton #divergent fanfiction

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angelatmidnight1 · 3 months

Note

hii thank you for feeding us with your bg3 tickle content 😫🙏🏼 I’ve been starving. Do you have any headcanons for ler!Gale with a stoic/tsundere lee!tav? Or really any of the other companions if ur not a Gale girly. tysm ❤️ [ps. tell me if I’ve crossed any boundaries / done something wrong, first time sending an ask 🙂]

A/N: Hi! You didn't cross any boundaries. I know you said headcanons, but I hope a fic was okay instead? This prompt works nicely with my favorite tav and her relationship with Gale- she's a stoic, snooty sorceress. I kept the fic gender-neutral though. I hope you like it! 💜

Pillow Talk

Fandom- Baldur's Gate 3.

Pairing- Gale Dekarios x Reader (ler!Gale, lee!reader). For the purposes of this story, reader is a sorcerer.

Word Count- 3,723.

Warnings- Spoilers for Acts 1-2 (ish), swearing, rivals to lovers in the beginning, and tickles.

As a noble-born sorcerer, there’s very little you don’t know about magic. It’s flown through your family’s veins for centuries. But, Gale’s different. He knows way more than you’d ever expect. As much as you try to deny it, you fall for him, and channeling the Weave together confirms it. Much to your surprise, the feelings are mutual. As your new relationship blossoms, Gale realizes that he’s never heard you laugh before, and he seeks to remedy that.

“Can’t I just break it?”

Karlach whined as she jostled the lock on the door. The lock glowed as she touched it and suddenly sent out a pulse of magical energy. She staggered back, yelping. “Shit! Guess not.”

You maneuvered around her, shaking your head. “It’s a magical lock, Karlach. I told you smashing it won’t do anything.” You stepped closer to the locked door and held up a hand. It glowed as you channeled into your magic. Closing your eyes, you traced your fingers along the lock’s sigils. “This lock is enchanted with psychic magic,” you hissed when the lock pulsed at you, stinging your hands. “And powerful psychic magic at that.”

Gale approached you from the side, humming skeptically. “I hate to be the one to disagree, but these are illusion sigils.” He traced his fingers over the same sigils as you, nodding to himself. “It’s more of a puzzle, judging by the patterns.”

You gave him a side glance, frowning. This was a recurring pattern in your journey. When it came to magic, you and Gale always had disagreements. “...Perhaps. But there’s psychic magic at work here, Gale. Not illusion.”

Gale raised a defensive hand. “There’s room for overlap, surely. However, I think I know the solution.” His eyes glowed as he reached into the Weave and mirrored the patterns on his palm. “If I follow the patterns, like so, I believe it’ll spell out the missing key.”

“Or,” You interjected and charged up a psychic pulse between your hands. “I can overload the sigils with psychic energy and destroy them. I understand this may not have been in your textbooks though.”

“Oh, charming.” Gale’s eyes flitted over to you disdainfully. “I had not planned on mentioning rank, but since we clearly are, I spent a considerable amount of time as Mystra’s chosen. Dismantling puzzles like these was my bread and butter.”

You weren’t backing down. You went through with your spell, directly interfering with Gale’s. “Don’t you mean former Mystra’s chosen?”

“Hey, c’mon, knock it off!” Karlach scolded. “If you two put half the energy into opening the door that you use to argue with each other, we’d be on our way back to camp by now! Now, hurry up.” Her stomach growled mid sentence. She sighed. “I’m starving.”

“Gladly.” Gale sunk deep into the Weave and figured out the patterns needed to unlock the door. Your psychic magic definitely helped smooth the path forward. Karlach cheered once the door opened.

“Fuck yeah!” She turned to both of you, beaming. “See what happens when you put your magical minds together?”

You followed her out of the dungeon, giving Gale a once over. “I see what happens when you pay attention at the wizard academy. The teachers must’ve adored you, Gale.” You huffed sarcastically. “Such a diligent schoolboy.”

Gale shook his head, smirking. “That couldn’t be any further from the truth! I slept through most of my lessons. And the trouble I found nearly got me expelled.” He chuckled. “Nevertheless, we can breathe fresh air now, thanks to our combined efforts. I hope we can work together again in more pleasant circumstances.”

“I’d sooner kiss a mind flayer.” You marched ahead of him, grumbling.

Wizards were so infuriating. Pompous, book-ridden, and proud. And yet, there was something to this Gale of Waterdeep. Something that interested you.

His hubris, as suffocating as it was, was tempered with true expertise. Passion, even. You’d never met anyone like him, not even in Baldur's gate. Magic was everything to you; it shielded you and brought your enemies to their knees. It was thrilling to meet someone who could match you. Plus, he had a gentle heart.

You didn’t plan on saving tiefling refugees, but beating up goblins was fun. During the attack, a tiefling child lost their parents. Neither you or Gale could bring them back to life. Still, he comforted them the best way he could.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He hugged them when they ran into his arms. “These are horrors that no child should have to go through. I…can’t bring them back, but I do have something that I hope can bring you some comfort.”

The tiefling child pulled away, sniffling. “You do?”

Gale conjured up a necklace of illusion magic. He handed it to the child. “This necklace is just for you. I’ll teach you the incantation to trigger the magic. Before doing the incantation, you need to think of a happy memory you have with your parents. Then, you’ll be able to relive that memory so long as you keep the necklace on.”

The child took the necklace and slipped it on. They toyed with the gem at the end, which glowed with a pleasant warmth. They smiled sadly, “Thank you.”

Something stirred in you. You didn’t name the feeling, but it was potent all the same. You felt hot and your heart raced. You’d never say it out loud, but you had a crush on Gale.

Instead of joining the festivities at camp, you turned in early for the night. You grabbed the first book you saw and settled onto your bedroll. Reading usually distracted you, especially when you read about magic. And yet, your mind was occupied by Gale. After failing to get to even the second page, you slammed the book shut. You tucked the book under your arm and ventured out to Gale’s tent. If you couldn’t benefit from the book, maybe he could.

Gale’s tent was a short walk away from yours. The party was dying down, but Gale usually stayed up studying. When you arrived at his tent, though, there was a conjuration of Mystra in his palm. He gazed at the image longingly, not realizing that you were watching. You stepped closer.

“Paying tribute?”

He flinched and whirled around. Mystra’s image disappeared, and he exhaled. “You startled me, (Y/N).” he breathed. “I suppose you could say I am, in a way. Though I can’t say my soul feels any lighter.”

You gave him a questioning look. He continued.

“I hope we can put our earlier disagreement behind us, (Y/N).” He said, taking a few steps towards you. Your heartbeat quickened. “It’s just been so long since I’ve collaborated with anyone regarding magic. I understand that we may have different approaches when it comes to wielding it.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “What’s done is done. Why were you just conjuring an image of the goddess?”

“Oh, that. Well..” He trailed off as if he was unsure of what to say. Then, he cleared his throat. “The longer we embark on our journey, the less connected I feel to the Weave. And, it’s everything to me. It always has been..” He sighed heavily, then looked at you with a sudden air of curiosity. “I know we haven’t seen eye to eye, but from one arcane user to another, would you like to channel the Weave with me? It’s a wonderful experience.”

You put down the book you were carrying, shifting awkwardly. “I’ve never done it. I never feel far from the Weave’s embrace, so I haven’t felt the need to.”

“Lucky you,” Gale chuckled. “Still, my offer stands. I can show you how to do it. What do you say?”

This was usually when you’d rebuff him. Not this time. Your curiosity piqued, and he did look handsome in the candlelight.

“Show me.”

Gale’s eyes brightened. He smiled. “As you wish. Follow my lead.”

Channeling the Weave was effortless. Gale was a wonderful teacher: patient, eager, and generous with praise. The air was sweet, and you felt safe in the Weave’s embrace. You closed your eyes, and your mind wandered again. To home. To Gale. To the thought of your lips pressed together in a passionate kiss—

The connection flickered. You forgot yourself. Your eyes snapped open and found Gale. He looked back at you with an equally surprised expression.

******

It took a week for you to face Gale again. You were terribly embarrassed. All of that melted away when, surprisingly, he reciprocated your feelings.

“I must be a powerful wizard indeed,” He was saying quietly to you during another one of your travels. “If I managed to charm the likes of you. I’m flattered, truly. And, might I say, you have incredibly good tastes.”

“Shh. Do you ever stop talking?” You returned in a hushed whisper, holding back a smile. You and Gale were walking behind Karlach and Astarion, and you didn’t want to catch their attention. Gale noticed the hint of your smile and gasped.

“Is that a smile I see? Oh, I’m afraid you’re done for.” He smirked and leaned into you. His breath tickled your ear, and you shivered. “I haven’t even begun to work my full array of charms on you.”

“What’re you two talking about?” Astarion cut into the private conversation, a curious glint in his eye. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen (Y/N) speak so much.”

Your smile instantly fell. You frowned, “It’s nothing that concerns you, Astarion.”

“Oh, come on.” The spawn pouted. “You’re no fun at all. What’s a bit of gossip among friends?” He looked at the two of you expectantly, but he didn’t get an answer. He huffed. “Ugh, fine. Be that way.”

Once he turned away, Gale whispered to you again. “Let’s continue this conversation in private tonight, hmm? I could prepare a meal.”

“Fine,” you agreed, nodding. “I’ll bring the drinks.”

After dinner, you stayed in Gale’s tent to read together. Many of your companions were either asleep or involved in their own pursuits, so they didn’t notice your empty tent. You were buried under a purple blanket with a book on your lap with him beside you.

“Comfortable?” Gale asked as he cozied up to you. You nodded and pushed half of the blanket to him, which he happily accepted. “Excellent. Now, tell me, when did you realize you were hopelessly enamored with me?”

You looked up suddenly, and he was grinning. A blush creeped up on your cheeks. You smirked. “I believe I could ask you the same thing.”

“You very well could. But, since I asked first..” Gale’s grin widened. “I’ll admit, it is a long list. There are the impassioned debates we have, my words, my award winning smile…”

“Awards?” You shook your head in disbelief. “Who’s given you these awards?”

“Three people, actually.” Gale feigned offense. “Why, there’s me. Myself, who’s a great fellow…”

“Stop.” You nudged his arm, giggling. “You can’t give yourself awards. They don’t count.”

“According to whom?!”

You covered your face, muffling your giggles. “Gods, you’re ridiculous.”

Gale laughed. When you uncovered your face, he was smiling warmly. “I’ve never heard you laugh before. It’s a beautiful sound.”

Your blush deepened. The truth was that you didn’t laugh much, if at all. You usually spurned the company of others, but you felt comfortable in Gale’s presence. You shifted, turning your attention back to your book. “Thank you. Now, are we going to read, or am I to sing your praises all night?”

“Both sound wonderful, though I’d settle for hearing you laugh again.” He slid close to you so that your arms touched. You smiled, keeping your eyes down on your book.

“I’m sure there will be something I can laugh at you about soon.” You chuckled lightly and turned a page. “All in good time, love.”

“You’re terrible, you know?” Gale gently squeezed your side with his free hand. You fidgeted and jostled your book. A metaphorical lightbulb went off in his head, and you eyed him suspiciously.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“Are you-”

“No.”

Gale chuckled. “I haven't finished my question.” He discarded his book to the side. He leaned into you with a small, knowing smile. “Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, are you ticklish?”

You shook your head. “I’m not.” You pressed your arm against your side, settling for holding your book with one hand. “You just startled me.”

“I see.” Gale hummed, rubbing his beard in thought. You thought that would’ve been the end of it, but after a brief pause, he was smiling again. “I do apologize, but I again disagree with you. The signs point to the opposite, I’m afraid.”

“There aren’t any-”

He squeezed your side again. This time, you squeaked and squirmed out of his reach. Gale smirked.

“Right. No signs.” He answered coyly, extending an arm out to reach you. He idly wriggled his fingers and you leaned away even further, unable to hide your grin. “None at all.”

“Gale,” You started warningly, propping yourself up onto your knees. This made your book tumble off of your lap. “I’m warning you. Don’t try it.”

“Surely there’s no harm in a bit of experimentation, is there?” Gale was testing the waters. He observed your body language. If he noticed the slightest bit of discomfort, he’d back off. Your gaze was sharp, but your wobbly grin told him that he hadn’t pushed too far. “You make one claim, I make another. Yet, it’s impossible for both claims to be correct.”

You put your hands out defensively as he inched closer. “D-Don’t come any closer.”

Gale stopped moving. His smirk broadened. “Of course. If that’s what you want, I will humbly oblige.”

Something was off. As a sorcerer, you could detect magic, and he definitely had a trick up his sleeve. It just wasn’t one you were expecting.

The sneaky wizard conjured a hologram of himself behind you. It had crept up behind you while you backed away from Gale. By the time you noticed it, it was too late. It fluttered its fingers into your sides, and you shrieked.

“Gahahle-?!” You let out a short laugh and curled into yourself. You shoved away the hands and whirled around to see the hologram. “Youhu bahahstard.”

“You’ve quite the mouth on you, don’t you?” Gale clicked his tongue, watching you and the hologram with amusement. “It’s actually one of the many qualities I like about you. That, your strength, and your obstinance.”

While he spoke, Gale’s hologram lightly poked at your torso, earning gasps and curses. If it reached a ticklish spot, it was rewarded with a startled giggle. Both Gale and his hologram wore the same smirk. “Are you absolutely sure that you’re not ticklish, my dear?” The wizard spoke over your snickering. “Based on my observations, that theory gets weaker with each passing minute.”

“I’m nohohot!” You bit your lips, muffling any would be giggles. You were losing the battle with the hologram’s hands. Instead, you checked it with your shoulder, trying to bump it hard enough to make it disappear. That tactic not only failed, but gave the hologram the opportunity to pull you in close. Now, with one arm around your waist, it gently pinched and scampered its fingers along your ribs. You exhaled sharply and bit your lip harder. “K-Knohock it off, Gahale-”

Gale held up his hands, feigning innocence. “I’m not doing anything. I haven’t moved, just like you asked.”

“G-Get rihihid of the holograham!”

“Oh!” He made a big show of realizing what you meant. His eyes flicked to the hologram and he charged up a spell in his hands. Or, it looked like he did. You knew better than that; he did nothing. He chuckled sheepishly. “Apologies, I’m afraid he has a mind of his own. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Youhuhu are deahad-”

Gale’s hologram teased your upper ribs with his fingertips. Hissing through clenched teeth, you squirmed in its hold, winding your arms tight around your torso. His fingers were trapped now, so he scribbled his fingers in a side to side motion along your ribs. The laughter was begging to be free, and it made itself known the longer you fought it off. But, if you were going down, you were going down swinging.

As a last ditch effort, you channeled your magic and sent out a small shockwave. It didn’t do any damage, but it did blow things around. Your goal was to break Gale’s concentration on his hologram spell, and it worked. Gale yelled as he stumbled back, and the hologram disappeared.

“Did you just-” Gale looked bewildered. He wasn’t hurt, but his scrolls and books were in a disarray. “Certainly a bit of tickling didn’t warrant an attack on my person!”

“It absolutely did.” You breathed. You rubbed the ticklish sensations out of your skin. “You attacked first, and I responded accordingly.”

“You did not respond accordingly!” Gale picked up one of the books that fell. He dusted off the cover. “You could’ve put a crease in my Magical Histories book.”

For whatever reason, that amused you. It amused you so much that you busted out laughing. Gale made the quick decision to cast a sound barrier spell around his tent, so that your loud laughter wouldn’t disturb your companion’s sleep. You laughed and laughed, collapsing on the floor, and Gale’s cheeks flushed.

“What is so funny?” Gale had to resist the urge to laugh along with you; your true laugh was highly contagious. Once you calmed down, you pushed yourself up into a seated position, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“You’re-” You couldn’t get through your sentence without snickering. “Youhu’re such a dork.”

“Wha- I will not stand for an attack on my person and my character.” Gale suddenly teleported to you, wrapping both of his arms around your frame. He scribbled across your sides, ribs, hips- anywhere he could reach. You squealed and, arms flailing, fell back into a fit of giggles.

Despite your ticklish panic, you still had some fight in you. While he was invested in tickling your ribs, a highly sensitive spot, you took the opportunity to tickle him back. You shot a hand up and buried it in the crook of his neck, tickling with purpose. Thankfully, he was ticklish too.

He immediately scrunched his neck, giggling hard. “O-Ohohoho nohoho you don’t!” He yelped and abandoned tickling you to wrestle with your hands. You grinned triumphantly.

“You left me no choice,” You wriggled your hand free from his neck and found his side, squeezing repeatedly. Gale giggled louder and gripped your wrist, but this didn’t deter you.

A tickle fight was on, and Gale was determined to win. There was a war of flailing arms and hands before the wizard emerged victorious. With a sudden burst of strength that was sure to make him sore in the morning, he pulled you down to the floor with him.

He set you on his lap, using one arm to pin your own arms to your sides. He didn’t hold on too tightly; you could’ve gotten away if you really wanted. He only held on with just enough strength to keep you from tickling him. Now, with his free hand, he kneaded into your hip bone. You lurched forward, giggling loudly, and he put his leg over yours to keep you put.

“Nahahahaha!” You squeaked as he jumped to your other hip bone. The floodgates were open now as you squirmed in his hold. “Gahahahahle!”

Now, it was his turn to grin triumphantly. He snaked his fingers up your sides, tweaking them with the lightest touch. He nestled his head in the crook of your neck. “There we are, dearest. Much better.” He chuckled into your skin, which only made you laugh louder. “And, if you won’t say it, I’m happy to do it for you. You,” He scampered up to your ribs, playing them like a piano. “Are,” A hand burrowed into your underarm, earning him yelps and cackles. “Definitely ticklish.”

You didn’t realize it at the moment, but the longer he tickled you, the more you sank into his arms. Soft, playful moments were a rarity, especially given the journey you were on. You’d never, ever say it out loud, but you were enjoying yourself. As smug as he was, Gale was being very gentle. “What do you say, (Y/N)? Do you think we could at least agree on that score?”

You hid your face with one hand, letting out a squealing laugh when his hand landed on your stomach. “NOHOHOHO!” You returned, laughing loudly, as you squirmed harder in his lap. He prodded into abdominal muscles and held you a little bit tighter.

“The signs are all there,” He whispered into your ear, teasing you, while he scribbled and poked into your belly. He let go of your arm so that he could use both hands to tickle. You didn’t realize the shift, so you curled into his arms instead of pushing his hands. “There’s the squirming, the squeals, and the laughter, which is quite enchanting…”

You finally grabbed onto his wrists, but still didn’t really stop him. It wasn’t until he gently kneaded his thumbs into the sides of your belly that you finally relented. “OKAHAHAHAY! I’M TIHIHCKLISH, GAHAHALE!”

He immediately stopped, rubbing his palms over your abdomen. “I’m happy we can finally agree on something.” He chuckled. He moved his hands off to the side. “And, I’ll let your cheeky comment slide. What’s more interesting to me is that you had the chance to move my hands, and yet you didn’t. I’m going to make another claim and suggest that you enjoyed yourself.”

You laid your head against his chest, breathing deeply. “And…if I did?” You tried to sound defensive, but there wasn’t any venom in your words. Gale smiled, resting his palm against your cheek.

“Then you’d only be more adorable to me, if that’s even possible.” His thumb rubbed along your skin as he took you in. “Gods, you’re beautiful. And that’s laugh- it’s something of the heavens, truly. I could listen to it all night.”

“But not tonight,” You tapped his nose, chuckling. “I’m exhausted.”

“No matter. I’m sure we’ll have many more nights like these to come. If you’d still like to join me, that is.”

You shifted in his lap so you could face him. You grinned. “I think I could make the time. Shall we seal the deal with a kiss?”

“I would love that.” Gale’s smile widened as he leaned into you, and you met him halfway, pressing your lips into his. Maybe it was because you’re both spellcasters, but the kiss was nothing short of magical.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tickling #bg 3 tickle #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x tav #ler!gale #ler!galedekarios #lee!reader #lee!tav #gale dekarios #reader insert #gale of waterdeep #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale of waterdeep x tav

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streets-in-paradise · 8 months

Text

Third Fate - Achilles x Fiancee!Reader

Requested by Anon

" Hey, I found your tumblr and I'm loving what you do here, mostly troy. I don't know if you're getting requests, but if you are, you can make one for Achilles based on that scene where he's told he can go and win glory in battle and have his name spoken for centuries or he can stay and be loved, have children, wife? I would love to see Achilles receive more love, with a wife and children. Feel free to make any changes you want, thank you very much in advance."

Hi, anon! I got this way sooner than what i expected because I was really in the mood to write it. The bittersweet mix of angst and fluff was exactly what I wanted to get into this week. Hope you will enjoy it :)

For a lenght concern i kept it in a pre war, pre marriage discussion of the prophecy. If once you read it you happen to like what i wrote here let me know and I can post a continuation showing what happens next ( i originally planned to do so, but it became too long so i prefer to save that for a second part)

Word Count 3.200

Warnings: Standard Achilles sexyness ( no smut, but if you watched the film you understand what I mean with this.) Some aspects of both, the canon of the film and the source material it is based on, were changed to fit the request in my envision of the story.

Summary: Terrible news disrupt the eve of your engagement to Achilles. He is called to fight in Troy and the spectacular war that the gossip foretells seems to be the destiny of greatness he had always dreamed with, but the price he has to pay for it is his happiness with you. The three days ultimatum Odysseus gave him is his moment to decide, but he won't do it without you.

Note: Inspired by two prompts by @creativepromptsforwriting

Prompt 1014 - " Well, the prophecy was a bit unclear about this part."

Prompt 1010 - " Let's not worry about the future. Let's just take this one kiss at a time."

"I like how that sounds."

Tags: @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @helie-brain

There was no easy way for him to explain to you what he had just found out. After Odysseus arrived bringing the news of the war in Asia you were already sad thinking of the distance that would keep your fiancé far away from you for an uncertain amount of time, but the real hardships surpassed your expectations. The whispers of fame claimed the conflict escalated enough to become the greatest war your world had ever seen, but you still imagined it as one war like many others he fought before. No matter the challenges found in battle, Achilles would always return to you.

Except that he wouldn’t,not from Troy. His mother told him of an old prophecy announced before his birth assuring that war would be the peak of his consecration as a hero, but the price for this glorification was his death. From this fact fate allowed him only two options of choice. He could either stay in Greece and be loved during his lifetime knowing history would forget him, or go to Troy to make his name immortal facing his doom.

To the end of his tale all you could do was cry, convinced that you were losing him forever. All your plans faded in just one instant, the life you dreamed together was gone.

“ I’m not dead yet, look at me.” He sweetly mocked you. “ How can you be so sure already that I’m here to tell you I’m abandoning you to get myself killed?”

You could tell he was trying, but that wasn’t making it any better.

“ If you don’t go, you will regret it. “ Was your dry comeback. “I know you, Achilles. You live to fight, staying away from the battlefield feels to you like a punishment. I can never keep you for long, not even when war calls you to fight other greeks. Why would it be different this time? You were born for this war, not to labrate the fields and raise goats. If Troy is the fate of greatness that you deserve, I can’t ask you to abandon this life purpose for the sake of our wedding.”

Despite how much he loved to see people worshiping as a hero, he was very aware to be a man in your eyes. Your approach was realistic and showed how well you knew him, much better than some of the men bleeding with him in war. If you fell for him, you did it knowing what to expect. Begging him to change his nature to fit the requirements of peaceful domesticity was never in your plans and you wouldn’t try it even if you were desperate.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to surprise you on occasions, exactly as he did when he proposed to you freshly arrived from the victory against King Triopas and his giant Boagrius.

“ Do you think I wouldn’t give it all away for you? Then I guess you don’t know me as well as you claim. “ He teased you with insistence. “ I can do well raising horses, I have some magnificent ones already. Do you know that horses are one of the most remarkable exportations of the trojans? If their city gets sacked by greeks and I manage to buy a few of theirs to mix with mine we would get an excellent rare breed. “

You cleaned your face and warned him against the mockery.

“ Don’t play with me! With the memories of your proposal still fresh, fate demands me to let you go. Being your wife is my dream, but I can’t have you knowing I would be destroying everything you worked so hard for. The immortality of your name is a cause bigger than me, the happy marriage we could have had or the children I could have given you. It can’t be a coincidence that this war gets unleashed precisely now, just as we are taking the first step to formalize our union.”

“ They are pressuring me to choose, it’s true, but the load of this decision lies in the fact that I want both more than anything.”

Achilles interrupted himself to take your hand, inviting you to abandon the distance you were forcing ever since he began to explain the situation.

“ I need you by my side, it’s the only vulnerability I have ever allowed myself. A glorifying death doesn’t scare me, but surviving far enough without you would be torture.”

Your lips parted in sincere amazement for that confession, so unusual of him.

“ A slow agony. If the war doesn’t kill me first, lovesickness will.” He continued. “ The comfort of lonely men fighting in foreign lands is dreaming with their distant wives at night, the hope of returning to them makes life bearable. I would not have this, from the moment I would board my ship I will be aware you are lost to me. All I would have is the wound of my pierced heart still bleeding love for you and plenty of time to wonder how wonderful it would have been to make you mine… Sooner or later I would lose my mind. Knowing glorious death would be the only comfort already promised to me, I would roam the battlefield searching for it. It’s most likely I would perform incredible acts worthy of being remembered, but I would do it as the insane man who is desperately looking for the warrior meant to kill him. The poets would write for centuries about the madness of Achilles.”

“ Aren’t they singing that already? Many people have described you as a madman.” You teased him, unsure of how to comfort him. “ Not that I mind, but that is a fact.”

“ They have no idea, unfulfilled passion would consume me in such an incredible way that Paris would feel a reasonable man hearing about me.”

He dragged you even closer so he could hold you in his arms and you fell for his touch chuckling sweetly.

“ Would you be competing against both princes at once while fighting the trojans?”

“ The warrior prince and the lover boy wish they could compare to me, I win in each one of their expertise areas. “ He followed your provocation, then whispered at you. “ I fight as fiercely as I love. “

You bit your bottom lip to avoid an audible response, but your flustered face was speaking for you. For an instant you felt as if nothing had changed between you and you have never heard the terrible omens.

“... Maybe that’s why no woman is meant to have you, the great goddesses would be jealous. “ You theorized out loud while caressing his cheek. “ It’s too much, like Icharus flying too close to the sun… Although I would be lying if I deny I would gladly burn and fall for you.”

Achilles stopped the flow of words taking your breath away with kisses that numb your senses, but not your mind. He had the habit of expressing important things in short, ambiguous phrases or not saying anything at all. When the hungry kissing began to escalate and you felt his hands roaming the sides of your body you understood that was his answer. If he would be saying goodbye, he would at least try to keep himself distant to make it easier for both of you. Given that his involvement on the war would ruin your chances to formalize, he would be encouraging you to find someone else.

He was pulling up your skirt slowly, evidently searching for the heat underneath. The opposite of what you would need from him if he would be about to leave you, so you stopped him right away because you realized what that meant.

" This isn't the time to act impulsively. I know you love me as strongly as i love you, but you have to choose what truly matters the most to you. If you decide to stay, others will be making history and maybe the pleasures of the thalamus will not be enough to cure the resentment for what you will be missing. Think carefully, hearts can change and the future wife you adore now can one day become the load that brought you down. "

Although a sensical objection, that didn't seem to preoccupy him much.

" Never, you were made for me. The omens were very clear, staying grants me a blissful life with you for the price of letting my name fade. I have only two options: be loved and forgotten or waste my life following the fool's orders until death will reward me with immortal glory. Between spending the rest of my life with you or with Agamemnon, I think it's clear where I would rather be. "

The sacrifice was too great, ultimate proof of his love for you. Behind that relaxed phrasing Achilles attempted to de-dramatize giving up his biggest personal dream for the one you shared, what you still considered wasn’t fair.

Responding with an equal offer was not only what your heart began to crave, but an alternative solution neither of you had considered.

“ There has to be another way, your mother never said what I must do in all of this.”

He wasn’t sure of where you wanted to point, but began to suspect it.

“ Well, the prophecy was a bit unclear about this part.”

The mischievous happiness renewed in your eyes let him know you had just found hope in the most insane of places.

“ Don’t give me that look, this is what happens for leaving you a while alone with Odysseus! Now you think you can outsmart destiny and find me a third end.”

You smirked with pride before presenting your idea.

“ I can’t interfere with yours, only my own. If no part is clearly stated for me in this sacred command sent to you, then nothing stops me from choosing one. Instead of having you abandon your dream to stay with me, I’ll follow it with you.”

His eyes were wide open staring at you, disbelief making him feel you were then playing with him.

“ Are you telling me we could just get married and board the ship to Troy the morning after our wedding night? What kind of honorable nuptials would that be? When all the wives of the country would be giving their farewell to their husbands, would you follow me like slaves are meant to? War holds no virtuous position for a woman to occupy, it would be a stain to your reputation your parents would curse me for. “

“ If your baby cousin can go, so can I.” You justified yourself.” To stop me you will have to stop Patroclus and we know that is not going to happen.”

The exactitude of your threat made him feel frustrated. Not because he wouldn’t love having you with him, but since he was refusing to publicly humiliate you like that. All Greece would know you were going to be the only wife following her husband to Troy for unexplainable reasons and they could judge your morals. Decent wives were meant to wait for their husbands and take care of their homes, not let passion distract them from their social duties. War camps were masculine places meant to be despised by the women, since their only female presence was typically in a state of degradation. Besides, Helen had already caused a moral breach shaming the greek concept of marriage and that was the reason pushing the fight. People would be judgemental of your relationship, they would question you for immorality and him for lacking authority to make you stay like a normal wife should.

He wasn’t thinking about him anymore, of protecting his name and the weight of his masculine prestige. He was extremely worried about you and the consequences it could bring when he wouldn’t be there to protect you.

“ Do you sincerely want to go to Troy and watch me die?”

“ It’s still better than watching you sail knowing you will never come back.” You terminated in response . “ I have heard the city is built to withstand a ten year siege, enough time for us to have a life together before destiny will reclaim you.”

Arguing with you was hard, even if the idea was insane you would find ways to make it sound logical.

“ A camp on the trojan beach is no place to start a family. “ He replicated softly, just letting you know he was trying to make you understand you couldn’t ask that. “ What are we going to do when the children come? Because they will, eventually. If you become my wife no omen of death is going to stop me from making love to you.”

You smirked innocently, ready to deliver a justification.

“ I'm not naive, Achilles! Do you think I don’t know what happens in those camps? Captives get pregnant all the time, so it's not impossible to go through it there. It may not be ideal, but I can make it. If you would leave me here and break our relationship to protect me from your fate, you could still put a baby inside your finest war trophy girl.”

“ And who said I’m leaving?” He questioned you. “ I’m not doing it and I am not breaking up with you. Now stop with this nonsense, my wife can’t be giving birth surrounded by death.”

“ But trojan women can? Because births aren’t going to stop there. “ You insisted, sitting near and acting as if you were two civil parts on a trial. “ Hector has a baby boy, if he can be a father in this mess so can you.”

The provocation made him hold a groan, but he turned back and kicked the nearest surface as a frustration release outlet.

“ It’s different for him, his wife is a princess and they have a city to defend. “ He tried to articulate in fast speaking, doing all he could to not show signs of anger growing because of your stubbornness. “ I don’t want you to have the life of a war captive, to denigrate yourself for me.”

It was very sweet, you were feeling his pain but he had to understand yours too.

“ As long as you are still breathing I will not accept a life without you. When the time comes I will embrace grief, but I’ll cry for you as your widow. In the meantime I don't want no one else, I’ll have the ground of your tent as thalamus and I’ll have your children.”

He gave a few steps towards you, presenting one more solid concern.

“ What will be of all of you when I'm gone?”

That should have been a strong preoccupation making you desist, but it didn’t.

“ We will be alright. They will inherit your share of the sacking, we know your death is linked to the fall of Troy so I can assume we will win something. Given that the House of Aeacus would possess fresh new heirs to renew the bloodline, I may even be able to bargain with Agamemnon the throne of Phthia for one of them. He hates you, but he would not be politically capable to refuse if you become the maximum fallen hero of the war he just won.”

At that point he felt true powerlessness because he just couldn’t convince you out of it for your own good.

“ They can’t grow in a warzone, think of the ruthless people they will become. Those kids would not know any better until it would be too late for them. I don’t want a soulless soldier as heir, people saying Achilles’ son has surpassed the brutality of the father.”

“ Let our little monsters run free through the camp, they will turn out fine if we guide them right. “ You imagined out loud, not scared at all by the dark warning. “ I can’t wait to see them messing around, you will be in tears the first time one of them will grab a wooden sword trying to copy their father.”

Illusion was starting to make his negative stance harder to maintain, he loved what you were saying. It sounded so wonderful that he couldn’t help find some sensical feeling in it. There was only one detail you haven’t solved for his resistance to fall completely.

“ How would I fight the enemy worried for you? You will be the only married woman around thousands of men and although I'm terrifying to most of them, I can’t keep control at all times. Some of those men will not be myrmidons, they will not know who you are.”

“ That’s the best part: I’ll keep Patroclus bussy.” You announced with excitement, knowing well he wouldn’t resist it. “ I know you don’t trust him in an open battleground yet, but he would not accept being left behind so you have to take him or he would never forgive you. With me on board you have a safe mission to give him that would keep him away from combat but still make him feel a hero. By the time you will judge him ready to charge into battle my presence will be naturalized and his vigilant eye won’t be needed anymore.”

Hope was truly hitting him because he started to feel as if the crazy plan could work if you all would make it work out. Most of the persons he loved the most could be with him for the rest of his lifetime, making the surviving gap before the consecration worth living. His little cousin, his best friend and his wife along with his future children all gathered like some warrior family.

A taste of happiness before the end, walk the two roads simultaneously into a third fate.

“ Blessed be your stubbornness, you wonderful woman! “ He praised you, surprise making his attitude switch as he rushed towards you. “ How can you be in every detail? You are insane, but I love you. I don’t deserve you, I can’t believe this.”

He made you smile and by that point you knew you were about to win.

“What exactly? My incredible ingeniousness, my gorgeous looks?”

“ That you love me so much, '' He admitted, then picked you up bridal style. “ That you will be my wife and I will brag about having you to both greeks and trojans. I will not rest until you will be the most honored person in that camp alongside me, your sacrifice will be part of my legend and maybe that will be my start to repay you. “

His immense gratitude was making you chuckle due to the unusual intensity, but he wouldn’t stop.

“ I’ll love you to my last breath, I promise you that.”

You were all smiles while caressing the strands of hair falling at the sides of his face.

“That’s all I want. No other payment you can offer matters to me because my will for sacrifice comes from love, just like yours.” You purred blissfully. “ Let’s not worry about the future, let’s just take this one kiss at a time.”

Mesmerized as he was, he replied against your lips.

“ I like how that sounds.”

#troy 2004 #achilles #brad pitt #achilles x reader #brad pitt x reader #troy #troy (2004)

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