#maybe grim has a long life span?

[pieceofourworld]

Y'all...I just realized... Lilia is way older than Malleus. And, despite some of what I've heard about Book 7, we can assume that Lilia will probably live for at least another 100 years or so.

Silver is human. Sebek is only half-fae. That means their lifespans will be way shorter. After Lilia buries his child and student, Malleus will be forced to watch the last surviving friend he has fade away.

All the NRC kids will be long dead. Yuu is gone, to their world and the afterlife. Grim is most likely dead along with them. Malleus's grandmother is older than Lilia, and has very likely passed.

Which means that Malleus is alone.

[twstgarden]

❁ ❝ 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽 ❞

━ third years and magicless! fae! gn! reader  ━ living as a magicless fae has its ups and down, but you will never regret accepting night raven college's invitation to attend their academy. (f/n means first name)

requested by: @king-zi request type: headcanons requester’s message: Hi! I am new to your blog and love your writing, I really liked the Lilia and fae!gender neutral reader as well as yuu driving with the third years! I'm new to the request thing so my apologies for anything that doesn't meet the requirements Request: Can I get a gender neutral reader/yuu who is a magicless fae interacting with the third years? Maybe on a trip or something? Again I love your writing and hope you keep writing as your work is amazing ❤ florist’s note: hello there, welcome to my blog. i'm glad you enjoyed those works of mine. thank you for your request, little one. i hope i did not misunderstand anything. stay safe. <3

do not steal or translate without my permission.

being a magicless faerie has its ups and downs. you have been labelled as the “odd” one in your community as other faeries found it bizarre for you to have no magical abilities. faeries were known to have innate magic and harness their powers from nature itself, making them one of the most powerful magical beings known in twisted wonderland.

but you, dear, are the odd one out.

when you were younger, you’d find this quite a predicament. you hated the very idea of being different from other faeries. you have no magic, so you felt like you never belonged with the fae community, but you had a long life span, so you felt like you never belonged with the human race either.

being a magicless faerie meant you have never expected to study in any magic schools. what’s the use, anyway?

but lo and behold, you have received an invitation from night raven college. before you knew it, here you were in the prestigious academy, attending as a regular student. though, you were not able to participate in magic-based classes, such as practical magic, conjuration, etc. 

at this moment, you found yourself right outside the campus gates with cater and trey standing beside you. cater had his elbow resting on your shoulder while holding a food itinerary, “okay~ so, we’re having a food trip around sage’s island today and we, third years, are the lucky ones to experience this first! we’re visiting around a total of ten restaurants today!”

“ten?” questioned vil in shock as his eyes widened a bit. vil was wearing his outdoor wear while holding the food itinerary, seeing as everyone had their own copies. rook stood beside him with his camera hanging from his neck as he spoke, “oh la la, that’s a lot of places to visit and eat at.”

“it’s great, though. we get to travel around the island and see what they serve in here,” spoke lilia, “wouldn’t that be a good idea in case we want to eat out or something?”

cater nodded in agreement with lilia’s words, “yes! lilia-kun gets it! so, shall we head out?” a series of ‘yea’s and ‘okay’s were heard from the group as leona held onto the car keys, sitting on the driver’s seat of the suv as he started the ignition. he was the driver for this trip, seeing as he was the one who knew how to manoeuvre a vehicle out of these young adults, grandpa, and cat.

you took a seat behind leona with grim on your lap as he grew excited about the trip. “i wanna eat now!” cheered grim as you sighed to yourself. cater was seated on the passenger seat as he turned to look at grim, “don’t worry, grim. you can eat as much as you want on our trip today!” 

“cay-kun, please,” you pleaded, “i’m broke. don’t encourage him.”

“i’ll pay for your meals then,” spoke malleus as he chimed into the conversation with a smile. you and grim looked at him with slightly wide eyes as lilia cooed, “ooh~ someone’s being generous~” 

you smiled politely at malleus and laughed awkwardly, “malleus, it’s really not necessary. i’ll pay for grim’s meals and make sure he won’t buy a lot.” 

“who said i’ll only pay for grim’s meals?” asked malleus with a smile, making leona roll his eyes and produce some barfing noises while driving.

“blegh! gross! stop flirting with them, horned bastard!” exclaimed leona as he shivered in disgust, making cater and trey laugh softly at the scene. idia shrunk in his seat as he sighed to himself, while malleus replied back to leona, “flirting? i’m merely offering to pay for their meals. it’s a gesture of kindness, kingscholar.”

malleus then smirked as he taunted him, “of course, you wouldn’t know that since you’re probably dozing off on the wheel.” leona scoffed at his words and spoke, “if i did fall asleep on the wheel, you’d all be dead.”

he then mumbled, “would be nice, considering your ass is in this vehicle.”

vil sighed at their banter and looked at you, since he was seated beside you, “this is why leona and malleus should never be in the same room, let alone the same vehicle, together. you’ll never hear the end of their fights.”

before the argument could escalate further, cater interrupted their banter, “uhh… there! the barbecue restaurant is up ahead!” leona looked at where cater was pointing and parked the vehicle as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

once everyone was inside the restaurant, the waiter had already gotten their orders as they all sat at a table. you sat beside malleus, but grim took a seat between you two with an excited glint in his eyes. idia was seated in front of you as he had his phone out, taking pictures of grim with a smile on his face.

“once i have my barbecue, it’s going down my stomach!” cheered grim, making malleus chuckle at his words while you patted grim’s head. “If you eat too much here, you won’t get to enjoy the other nine restaurants,” you spoke, almost as if you were scolding him a bit. you then shifted your attention to the ignihyde dorm leader taking pictures of the cat-monster beside you, making you laugh softly, “idia?”

realizing he was caught in the act, he hid his phone and looked at you with wide eyes, “h-huh? i wasn’t doing anything!”

you gave him a teasing smile before waving your hand dismissively, “nah, it’s fine, man. grim can be cute sometimes, anyway.”

“sometimes?” questioned idia with a raised brow, but before you could respond, the food was served and grim was the first one to dig in before anyone else could grab their food.

“goodness, grim. do you not get full?” asked vil in shock and slight annoyance at grim’s behaviour, but the little monster did not care as he replied while munching away, “rarely.”

you gave the rest an apologetic smile before digging in. it was peaceful and fun all the while. lilia was seated on malleus’ left-hand side as he peeked his head towards you, looking at you with a smile, “so, little faerie, how do you like the trip so far?”

you turned to look at lilia while sipping on your drink and teasing him a little, “so far so good, old faerie.” lilia gave you a playfully annoyed expression before laughing it off, seeing as you weren’t wrong anyway. 

all while you were talking to lilia, cater was looking at you with a curious expression until he spoke, “hey, n/n… i hope you won’t take it the wrong way, but what’s it like to live that long?”

though the question seemed vague, you knew he was asking about your experience as a long-lived fae with no magic. you smiled at cater to show him that there isn’t any problem with being curious about that, “hmm… i’d say i feel like an ordinary being with a long life. it’s like you get to experience those moments that are now just seen in history books, you know? it’s quite interesting but lonely.”

“i see…” trailed vil, “...do you ever wish you had magic?”

vil’s question made you think for a while as you hummed softly in thought before smiling at him, “not at all. maybe when i was younger, i would have wished to have magic like everyone else. however, as i grew older, i accepted who i really am. being magicless has its advantages too, y’know!”

“at least i won’t have to worry about overblots,” you mumbled under your breath as you continued to eat your meal.

“we heard that,” remarked leona as he looked at you, making you smile sheepishly at them before returning to your meal. once everyone was finished with theirs, trey grabbed his food itinerary and spoke, “our next stop is… a brasserie.”

“a brasserie? très bien, let’s go, then!” cheered rook as he and the rest stepped out of the barbecue restaurant. 

while you walked back to the suv, you felt a hand on your shoulder as you turned around and saw trey smiling at you. “hey… i thought you might need to hear this. if you ever need someone to lean on, we’re here, okay?” spoke the vice leader politely as he continued smiling at you.

you smiled in response, finding his gesture sweet, “thank you, trey. i appreciate it.”

“for someone long-lived like me, i will never regret attending night raven college. the relationships i’ve cultivated with the third years will always be a special memory that i’ll keep until my last breath.”

© twstgarden 2023 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for bringing the girl I loved back from the dead without really thinking about how she’d feel about it?

There’s this girl I love. More than anything. She’s… my best friend. The most important person in the whole wide world. We grew up together, and for a long time she was the only friend I had. She’s amazing, beautiful, and I’d do almost anything for her.

Which is… maybe the problem, I’m starting to think?

You see, I got her killed. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident— the worst mistake I ever made. I… I wanted to get her a gift, and so I hunted down an ancient artifact that I felt was befitting of her, I thought it would be a grand gesture.

But I didn’t understand the forces I was messing with. That thing was evil. It slowly drove her mad, destroying her from the inside out. At first it wasn’t too bad— she was just overconfident, maybe a little mean, but it got worse and worse. She started doing very, vey bad things, culminating in her ruling over our country with an iron fist. She… hurt a lot of innocent people, and she even hurt me. Eventually it got so bad we had to…

Well, me and some new friends I made had to stop her. Permanently.

It’s been a long time since then, and I’ve made a lot of new friends, but I’ve never forgotten that girl: my best friend, the only person I ever loved. I’ve never forgotten the ways that I failed her or how I wished things could have been different.

That was why I was so ecstatic when I realized there was a way for me to meet the grim reaper, recently! I vowed I’d summon it, then bargain with it to reclaim her soul. I’d bring her back, and we’d finally have the happy ending we deserved.

And I WAS able to. Maybe not as easily as I hoped, but I was. And all I had to do was… well, uh…

Sacrifice half of my life span to give it to her, meaning I’ll definitely die young?

But that was a sacrifice I was willing to make! That part I don’t regret! I agreed. Readily.

But when she came back, she was…

Troubled.

The good news is her personality was back to normal— the grim reaper made sure of that, but when I explained what I’d done (NOT the deal, just that I’d revived her) and why she was alive, she… got mad?

She started screaming at me, tears in her eyes. She asked how I could seriously do something like that after “everything she did.” How I could “even bear to look at her after she became such a monster.”

And as she did, something sort of strange happened. Her body started to shift. You see, the girl I loved… she, um, stole a few bodies while she was in the throes of madness, and although she was initially herself when I brought her back, that didn’t last. Her body is constantly changing. Most of the time she’s something in between what she used to look like and who she was at the end of her life. A few friends of mine have theorized it’s because she isn’t really sure who she is anymore, and her body isn’t either.

She freaked out even more. She started to panic, asking “what I’d done to her.” I said I didn’t know. She ended up passing out.

Some friends of mine explained the situation to her— what had happened while she was gone and helped her calm down. The next time I saw her, she was less upset.

She apologized for her outburst, saying it seemed I had “suffered a lot because of her.” She said she didn’t mean to seem ungrateful— she was just scared and haunted by the things she’d done.

I told her it was okay and that we’d work through it together.

But things… haven’t gone swimmingly. We got run out of our home because the rest of our country hates us. She’s still upset about everything she did, especially to me. She won’t even let me call her by her name, saying that after what she did she “no longer deserves it.”

And her body keeps changing. Which is… really hard on her. Her appearance has always been important to her, and she hates how she looks. She says her old body is the body of an ugly, unlovable freak and that her newer body is the body of a sick and evil monster, and that it’s even worse being something in between.

No matter what she looks like on any given day, she hates it, and she’s even started hiding her face. She made us take down all the mirrors at the place we’ve been staying at and wears a mask all the time, saying she “can’t bear to look at herself, and doesn’t want anyone else to see her either.”

It breaks my heart. I still think she’s beautiful, no matter what she looks like, but she doesn’t believe me. She says I’m just saying that to make her feel better.

She… tries to be strong for me. We’re in a relationship now (we couldn’t be before— too many societal customs holding us back). She says she IS grateful for what I did… that she wants to give me the happy ending I deserve after everything I’ve been through, but…

Sometimes I hear her crying in her room at night when she thinks I’m not listening, and I wonder if I made the right decision. I remember the terror and anger she screamed at me with when she first came back and I feel sick to my stomach. She’s always saying these terrible things about herself. She has so much to grapple with. She never actually seems HAPPY.

And even worse, a few other friends of mine recently learned about what I did— the deal I made, that is, and they were very upset with me. They said I shouldn’t have done that— that they couldn’t believe I’d sacrificed my own life.

The girl I love still doesn’t know, but I know if she learned, it would destroy her, too. She’d probably hate herself and hate me even more than she already does. I’m really scared of her finding out.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I made the right decision anymore. I just wanted my friend back, but I’m starting to think I didn’t think about what SHE’D want at all. I didn’t even stop to think about how much guilt she’d have to deal with— all the things she’d have to process.

…Did I do something selfish? And if I did, how can I even begin to fix it?

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

Yuu get´s turned into a Turtle-Diasomnia

Malleus

so what is he supposed to call you now that you aren´t a Child of Man?

he needs some serious thinking time now

besides that he actually forgot to feed you multiple times and even sacrificed you to Lilia´s cooking once, to this day you can still feel the pain it caused

he also wonders if it would be a good idea to keep you as a Turtle considering there is a good chance you would get a longer life span than a Child of Man

but even without your verbal protest he could tell you hated the idea, the biggest indicator was that you tried to bite his fingers of when he proposed the idea

he also took you to Ramshackle he thought the familiar environment would do you some good

it did not end well, the easiest way to explain would be Malleus did not want to hand you off but Grim and the Ghosts wanted you back

Lilia

he cooked for you and used the chance of you not being able to run away as an excuse to force you to eat it

he also decided taking you with him into the light Music club would be fun

it ended with him, Kalim and Cater buried under a shelf and you looking smug above them

he does not even know you managed to get all three of them and to push over the shelf

but he is weirdly proud of you, next time he´ll use you how to use a sword it will definitely not end in complete chaos and some injured and maybe dead students:)

or maybe he could just tape a really long knife on your shell and set you free to watch the chaos unfold

Silver

he fell asleep on you multiple times and you´re surprised he didn´t accidentally crush you

or that a bird didn´t carry you away to eat you, actually that did happen multiple time but after some dead birds they stopped trying to get you

Silver actually takes good care of you at least for someone that constantly falls asleep

but he keeps saving you from Lilia´s attempts to cook for you which makes him your hero and a lot better than most of Diasomnia who would happily sacrifice you to save some time

he also let´s you fall asleep on his chest if your tired and he even got some of his woodland friends to play with you

despite your bloods track record you get along quiet well with them

Sebek

he will die on the spot if he sees you walking after Malleus instead of allowing him to scream at you about your “wrong” doings aka normal behavior

he will get even louder when he sees you tackling Malleus so he can take you with him

he might also be a little bit insulted that you keep trying to get away from him

but he also left you to your fate when Lilia cooked

so honestly he deserved some hate for that one

he tried to take you with him to ride some horse, he has no idea how you managed that one but his horse threw him of and your ride on your own

it was a really weird but also impressive view

[yea-baiyi]

Hi....If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

hi it’s been a while! i love getting asks from you because it lets me ramble about my favourite things, it makes me so happy so thank you!!! i hope you know how much joy you bring <3

(i’m sorry i haven’t replied to your last top 10 ask, i started the list and it got so humiliating that i’m unable to look at it again.)

anyway “top 10 media” is a broad question, so i have picked the top 10 media i love to ramble about. the kind where i could talk for hours about each one. are these objectively my favourites? maybe not. are they even good? only like half of them. but they certainly are top. enjoy!!

top 10 media of all time (not ranked):

1. tgcf (novel)

its still too early to say if this is a permanent top 10, but it has consumed my life for the better part of a year so it gets on this list. i have difficulty describing tgcf, it’s not particularly an excellent novel by many metrics, but it gives me endless satisfaction — the breadth of the story, spanning hundreds of years and a broad range of plotlines, plus the incredible depth of each moment, with sensitivity and humanity behind every hilarious-ridiculous-bombastic moment. i keep finding new things with every new chapter i annotate, even on my 4th/5th read. it’s rare that a piece of media gives me so much to think about, i’m just trying to savour the enjoyment for as long as it lasts.

2. the untamed/陈情令 (tv show)

oh man what can i say about the untamed. what can i NOT say about the untamed. the show i resisted for two years before finally being pushed into it. and i have been hurtling down the danmei rabbit hole ever since. for all that it was my intro to danmei and into the modern cdrama fandom, it really is SO MUCH just on its own. i daresay no tv show will ever be able to deliver such pure insanity juice straight to my brain ever again. deserves its spot. show of all time.

3. fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood (anime + manga)

i was a weeb for YEARS. consumed hundreds if not thousands of episodes of anime and manga. and this is the only one that stuck. obviously a masterpiece of storytelling. i revisit this constantly. i love stories that can be grim but still hopeful and endlessly sincere. also if you can’t tell i’m a huge sucker for stories where the side characters clearly have their own histories and relationships outside of what we get to see, and fmab has that for ages.

4. the legend of korra (tv show)

i cannot in good conscience say that i like this show. if you asked for my opinion, i would complain in your ear for an hour straight, minimum. (i have done this. multiple times. don’t ask me about the legend of korra.) and yet it is the piece of media i think about the most, that i have dedicated the most of my writing to, that i rewatch most often. lok aired when i was 13-17 and i grew up with it on tumblr. the people i followed and the things they talked about shaped how i interact with fandom today. maybe one day i will be able to move on, but this one has a sure spot in my top 10.

5. sense8 (tv show)

this one i can wholeheartedly recommend to any queer person trying to grow up in the world. yes, the orgies are gratuitous, the first season has some 2014 cliches, and overall who cares about the plot. but it’s such an unabashed expression of queer joy and unconditional love. there’s something so comforting in the idea that other people will volunteer to share your pain, your happiness, and your loneliness. that everyone in the world is connected by their ability to feel, to laugh, to scream, to cry, to love— you are only as alone as you let yourself be. this show carried me through so many dark times and helped me to keep believing in people. maybe i’ve outgrown my need for this show now, but i will always love sense8.

6. my ajusshi/my mister (kdrama)

is it one of the best kdramas ever made? yes. am i also incredibly biased because it’s IU? also yes. i strongly recommend it if you have the patience. this drama is slow and melancholy and washed out, its characters are weary and cynical and not always kind to each other. but that is precisely the point, because the drama dusts off their dull, exhausted lives and finds within them something worth living for. sometimes it’s enough to know that you have the power to make someone else’s life better. you might have lost the love of your life, but you have a spare mattress in your bedroom for a scared, lonely girl to sleep on. you might have lost your marriage, but you have enough money to pay for an old woman’s funeral. your career might be going nowhere, but you can be the cheerleader and inspiration for a silly woman that loves you. you might be a gang of sad, broke, middle-aged failures, but you can all walk a young woman home together and make her night a little less dark. my ajusshi is not an easy drama to watch, but similar to sense8, it’s one that gives me hope.

7. the k2 (kdrama)

firmly convinced that tumblr is sleeping on this drama. it is so absolutely batshit feral unhinged. let women be a mess!!! let women be so wrong!!! let women scheme and threaten and fight and manipulate, while the man looks on with protective anxiety and/or dead-eyed absolute competency. let a woman run barefoot through the streets of spain in a nightgown, tears streaming down her face. let a woman past her prime be psychosexually obsessed with her stepdaughter’s bodyguard whom she is locked in a blackmail revenge plot with. let him lead her at gunpoint into a car so he can escape the standoff, only for it to become a car chase with her enemies, and for him to flip the vehicle over. let him walk back into the burning car to carry her out.

8. man of steel (movie)

not gonna lie haven’t rewatched those one in a while! but officially my #1 favourite movie if anyone asks. i have moved on from capeshit but this movie still has everything i love: a world that breathes, people that live in it, and a clear message of hope despite how bleak things might seem.

9. rogue one (movie)

i mean. i mean. it says something that i was working on my (planned out, the story exists fully formed in my head) tgcf rogue one au when i opened up my writing notes and found that at some point last year i had written an entire mdzs rogue one au. brilliant. unparalleled. so blessed that this movie got to exist in between the endless cash grabs that are the other movies. as a star wars fan since age 13, i can say with full assurance this is the only star war that matters actually.

10. the infernal devices (novel series)

not sure if i’ve mentioned this series on this blog before, but to this day it’s one of my favourite YA series. yes it is your standard cliche fantasy series but it has will herondale, the best payoff to the typical angsty brooding male lead to ever exist. writers try to justify brooding characters like “they have valid reasons to be that way, deep down they’re really loving blah blah” but this series takes that and delivers. because the moment will is free from the legitimate reason he was acting that way, he is bursting at the seams to show his love. he runs to the girl he loves and tells her he loves her. he tells the woman who raised him that she’s awesome. he spends the rest of his life so, so incandescently happy, simply because he gets to love the people he loves. also the ending of the second book is possibly one of the wildest cliffhangers for a love triangle ever. i clearly love to have an Experience while consuming a piece of media.

(if you’ve read til here, thank you for reading and letting me ramble some of the words that go through my brain endlessly. if you’ve ever consumed and enjoyed any of the things i’ve mentioned, please feel absolutely welcome to message or dm me, i am dead serious about being able to talk about these for hours. in fact i would love to. please)

[angelguk]

oc is back on her bullshit!!! miss out and about im gonna forget about you!! im so sorry for this part actually. descriptions of oc sleeping with someone who is not jaykay (warning!! infidelity but not really). suppressed feelings on jks side. chayoung is still Suspicious. everyone is now mildly shitty actually. roughly 2k. listen to not gonna cry by emma steikbakken and stranger by tove lo.

titled — fuel to the fire

It's been three days since you last spoke to Jeongguk (and four weeks since your break-up). Not about your relationship or the horrendous state your sudden break-up left you in, or about the fact that Jeongguk had moved on before your heart had even registered the cracks he'd left in his wake. No, not that – none of the actual life changing important stuff, only him briefly mentioning that you needed to hand in your event proposal for the student committee before the deadline approached. It was unbelievably strange to watch the person you'd basically surgically attached to your being behave like a complete stranger. It didn't help that he didn't seemed unfazed approaching you, while you on the other hand actively avoided him and all the usual corners of campus where he liked to lurk (which sucked because those corners were some of your favourites places too). But there he was, ambling to you with an ease that made your gut violently twist, acrid bile slithering up your throat.

He'd spoken so freely, the sound of your name on his tongue a brand on your skin. You'd frozen, heart a wild animal locked in your chest, before you could summon the mettle to look him in the face.

The first thing you noted was that his hair was no longer long. Dark locks cropped short around his ears now and casually gelled back, idle strands playfully framing his face. His features are what you settled on next, eager eyes remapping the sharp slope of his nose, easily identifying the sneaky dimple on his cheek begging to burst free and then shifting down to the dark mark right below his soft pink lips.

Your first instinct was to pull him into your arms but they were frozen, glued to the table beneath you before that blinding rage rose it's head, sparking through your veins the longer you looked at him.

He didn't even seem to realise it, rattling off the list of things you needed to email him for the spring scavenger hunt or else the event could be cancelled (which sucked because that was an idea you had created with Jeongguk and now you were stuck carrying the bulk of the event alone).

Your replies had been curt, blunt as they left your lips before you'd pointedly turned away. Maybe if you had looked a little longer you would detected the lingering gaze he granted your features, how he shuffled on his feet, unsure and hesitant, words on his tongue longing to be released. Eventually he had swallowed him down, mumbled a quick goodbye and wandered off, the hands shoved in the pockets of his baggy jeans aching to hold yours again.

You, however, didn't miss the muffled giggles of girls he passed on his way out, a sick icky feeling clogging your throat. You didn't mind the fan girls when you were dating because you knew Jeongguk was yours and yours alone. But now? When he'd moved on not even a weak after your break-up you didn't know how to feel. Jealous, maybe. Furious, absolutely. For a second, you considered throwing your mini stapler at their huddled heads, weighing the odds of possibly going to jail for assault. But there was no reason to truly justify that reaction, not when Jeongguk was single and apparently available for everyone. But did that feeling still brew inside of you? Turning into something black and vile and vengeful? Perhaps.

And maybe that's why you're here now, the body of some boy pressing against yours, your bare back prickling as the night wind grazes against it. The dress you'd plucked from your closet was criminal, clinging to the dips and rounds of your body perfectly, a silky emerald backless piece that shimmered beneath the soft lights of the porch you'd abruptly accoupled. His name might be Lucas – you may have been able to accurately remember that three drinks ago but you're beyond that now. And it didn’t really matter when all you wanted was for him to fuck you. He's also big and huge, massive shoulders caving you in, and his hands is snaking it's way up your thighs, ginger kisses peppered along the span of your neck.

Which is not what you wanted. Not in a one-night stand at least. You don't want soft and gentle, you want something wild – feral even. Something harsh enough to wipe the memory of Jeongguk's hands on your skin, something bright and fierce and new. Something to make you feel alive again.

Lucas gets the hint soon enough, spurred on by the bold movement of your hand guiding his closer, right between your thighs were you wanted him. Deft harsh fingers on your clit followed, pressing against the damp fabric with no remorse. You couldn't help the whimper that floats from your lips, the tension stringing through your limbs finally alleviated.

"Cute," he murmurs, seemly pleased judging from the broad smile that tugs at his lips. You make a noise of agreement in return, drawing in him for a kiss as the pad of this thumb toys with you. There's the sillage of whiskey on his tongue, something that nearly makes you freeze because you're used to tasting that on Jeongguk. But you beat down that apprehension, a muffled moan breaking past your lips when Luca's tongue mets yours.

"My place?" He suggests, lips glimmering from your lip gloss. You smile, a familiar giddiness bubbling in your chest when he shifts a little, hard bulge bumping into the base of your stomach. You give in a little bit more easily than you normally would have, clinging onto his hand as he guides you out of the party towards the neighboring building. Chayoung and Sieun are going to kill you later for this but you simply can't force yourself to care. 

"You're in that frat?" You finally murmur out when he keys himself into the building. Lucas hums, glowing under the moonlight when he smiles at you.

"Mhm, Sigma Chi for life, babe."

Babe. A complete one-eighty from the bunny you'd grown accustomed to.

It hits a little harder when he gets you into his room, the mess unlike anything you'd ever seen at Jeongguk's (he's very anal but his room and how clean it should be, specific down even to the various scents he kept around to ensure the air he breathed was perfect). Lucas was the average frat boy, messy but neat enough that you find yourself naked on his bed a couple moments later, his tongue deep inside of you. Your brain couldn't help but recall the last time a head had settled between your thighs, Jeongguk eager to lick out the pool of cum he'd left there. But this wasn't him and as of five seconds ago you decided you’re no longer allowed to think about him.

Lucas makes it easy, tongue skilled and swift around your clit, a fervour in his movements that leaves you dripping down his chin. Jeongguk evaporates from your mind entirely when Lucas descends on you, his mouth glistening and his tongue tasting of you. His kisses are hungry now, forceful, just what you need. Your palms stray down his wide back, a strange tingle erupting in your gut when your nails dig and he groans right down your throat.

"You're so big," the comment is a mumbled slur, lost in Lucas's mouth. For a second, you think he misunderstands, his hard cock twitching against your thigh. You're actually talking about his shoulders; they're broad, muscles rippling every time he shifts to press you harder into the mattress. You like the weight of him on you, it makes forgetting easier.

But Lucas knows what you're saying, discerning your wandering fingers and clouded eyes well.

"I know," he returns with lopsided smile. "Perks of swimming."

Oh, of course he was an athlete. Maybe you had a type after all.

Before Jeongguk has a moment to resurface Lucas has you in his arms, easily twisting you around so that your face is buried in his sheets. It short-circuits you, brain sparking with how large and huge and strong he feels. The following sudden press of his lips against your ass doesn’t help, your heart thumping loud in your head as your shuffle onto your elbows.

"Good?" Lucas asks, rising to fetch a condom from his drawer.

"Mhm," you return, thighs trembling when he returns. He easily lines himself up with you, the head of his cock pressed into you coaxing a low groan from your throat. The first thrust hurts, probably because you're body isn't as on board with this as you thought. But that changes quick when Lucas's hand slides underneath you, swiftly settling on your clit until you're leaking around his length, skin tight with tension and sweat beading along the length of your back. The stretch feels strange – he's larger than Jeongguk, wider. At first it's too uncomfortable to feel good. Your senses narrow on the sound of your meeting instead, loud and lewd, your pussy squelching with every drag of his cock inside of you. The ripple of your ass helps you relax too, a pleasant almost dizzy feel spreading through your body when Lucas draws you closer, shoving himself deep inside, the whine floating from his lips painting your skin warm. He fucks you hard enough to leave marks, large fingers digger into your hips with every resounding collide of your bodies. You shiver when he finishes, a grimness appearing on your skin. It's vanished by Lucas tugging you close, his mouth light on your lip as he kisses you, cock slowly slipping out.

It feels better the second round. He's perceptive, quickly learning how you like your clit touched, or that you like when his teeth sink into your skin rather hard. You actually cum this time, spread open over his massive strong thighs, his length splitting you open, the stretched welcomed.

You forgot about Jeongguk and your sore heart for a total of two wonderous hours, before your phone starts blaring from your discarded mini-bag on the floor. Lucas is the one that gets it for you.

"Hi?"

"Y/N! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" Chayoung's tone is aggrieved, wavering through the sound of some song blasting in the background.

"Oh. I left." You hope she gets it, doesn't press any further. But what was Chayoung if not a button pusher?

"WHERE? YOU WENT HOME? WHEN?"

"No, I'm not home. And awhile ago." Lucas is pointedly not listening, pattering through the adjacent bathroom of his room. The pressure ebbs when he turns the tap on loud.

"WHAT?"

"I said I'm not home! And please stop yelling!"

There's a loaded pause. You can feel Chayoung thinking through the line. "Okay... Who are you with?"

"Fine, yes I'll meet you there," you say instead, completely ignoring her question. Lucas is out of the bathroom now, massive and still naked as his knee sinks into the mattress. He crawls to you as you scramble to get out, phone wedged between your shoulder and ear. "Yeah, yeah I know I'm sorry. I'll come get you."

"What the hell are you talking about Y/N? Who are you with?" Chayoung's words are bitter now, stinging as they hit your ear.

"Gimme five seconds, I'll be right there," you return, swiftly cutting the call. Chayoung is going to kill you the second you see her but you'd rather attempt to live through that than Lucas overhearing you gossip about him on the phone with your friend. The man in question is watching you with a chary gaze as you hurriedly tug your dress over your head. "Sorry," you supply, pulling the hem down hard over your butt. "My friend needs me."

He nods slow, strawberry blond locks swaying. He's actually very hot, an observation that has you stilling for a second.

"Cool. See you around, yeah?" His eyes are round and big, bright even – almost like Jeongguk's. That breaks the spell.

"Yeah, see you around." And then you take the chance to flee, bag swung over your shoulder. Except Lucas halts you with a low cough, raising his hand, something bunched up in it.

"You forget this, though." It's your underwear, red and lacy. Your cheeks match the colour of fabric, flushed hot as you pluck it out of his wide palm. Lucas watches you slip them on with a smug smile, one that you should hate but there's a humour in it that blooms through you. He lets you part with a fond squeeze of ass when he gets up to open the door, still grinning.

"See you, Y/N," he says, leaning against the doorframe. He's very tall too, how did you miss that?

"Yeah," you squeak back, eyes shifting from his face with speed. "See you."

He's not Jeongguk, and that's good. He also makes it easy for you to forget about Jeongguk, another plus. And you can't help but wonder as you scurry back to the party, that it might be nice to see him again.

—

That sentiment gets jumbled when Chayoung avidly spills to you later that she'd stumbled into Jeongguk with his hands tangled with another girls, leading her right out of the party as Lucas had lead you. It stings, of course it does, but not as much as the first one. Not when Lucas is in your DMs, his messages sweet albeit corny, and you can still recall the taste of you on his tongue. 

But despite everything, even with Jeongguk a new stranger and Lucas's body warming yours, you haven’t truly let go. You can feel it in how you cling to the clothes Jeongguk had left in your closet. He hadn't requested to come pick them up yet, a fact that keeps a wedge in the door you're not sure you can close alone. Your heart still spikes when you see him on campus, and there's a home game coming around the corner that you're longing to go to. Because you still want to see him. Still want to be by his side Sometimes it felt nice to want to forget but you couldn't – not yet at least, not until you know whether he wants to forget about you too.

[pitterpatterpot]

Can you wright a prompt with some bickering between Aedion and Fenrys with 183, 184, 186, 190 and 191?

Yes I can!

183. “What did you say?”

184. “Why are you so annoying?”

186. “Don’t ever mention that again.”

190. “Did you do this on purpose?”

~~~

“I want you to know that I entirely blame you for this,” Fenrys hisses, seething. “Out of all the birthdays I’ve had in my long life span, this has got to be the worse. Did you do this on purpose? I mean, I cannot even begin to fathom why you thought this was a good idea.”

“This was Aelin’s idea!” Aedion hisses back, squirming where Fenrys’s elbow digs into his side, their knees knocking. “Your birthday falls on the same week as the harvest festivals. She thought you’d enjoy the horror houses!”

Fenrys glowers. “Maybe I would, if not for the fact that we’re in here thanks to you!”

Jaw tightening, Aedion stares back as best he can in the dim light. The males lock gazes, both equally as frustrated and fed up as the other.

“At least,” Aedion growls, “I didn’t shriek when faced with a child in a sheet and push myself and another person into a closet that locks from the outside.”

“It looked like they were bleeding!”

“It was berry juice and starch! Don’t you have harvest festivals in Wendlyn?”

“We have stalls with treats, we don’t turn everything into a horrific nightmare!”

“Do not disrespect my favourite holiday,” Aedion snaps, jiggling the handle of the small closet they’re strapped in. “Shit. I can’t ram or kick the door with so little space. Can you use any magic?”

“What did you say?” Fenrys scoffs. “Of course I can. Just squeeze behind me, the only way this night could get any worse is if Gavriel kills me for scratching you.”

Snarling, Aedion acquiesces and shimmies as much as he can to stand behind Fenrys. The male presents his hand palm first towards the door, and slams it forward right above the lock. A small tremor passes through the door, both their tea hearing picking up in the lock shaking loose.

“I thought magic didn’t work in iron?”

“It doesn’t. But if you break enough of the wood around the lock and shake it loose a bit, you have guaranteed escape. At least for common doors that aren’t built for imprisonment,” Fenrys grunts, bracing his shoulder against the door and shoving it open. “Yes!”

“Oh, thank the gods,” Aedion sighs, stumbling out after him. “Contained spaces tend to be low on my list of enjoyments.”

“Same here, boyo,” Fenrys mutters, eyes scanning the hallway of Elide’s estate. “So every year different lords and ladies offer their houses to become den of horrors?”

“During the war it became something only a few could afford to do,” Aedion says, grinning as the excited shrieks of children drift towards them. “It’s nice that we were able to organise it on a larger scale this year.”

They begin strolling down the hallway, eyeing the fake cotton cobwebs strung up on the walls and masks pinned on the walls resembling ghouls.

“So aside from the bleeding children,” Fenrys hums, “what other grim surprises are in stall for tonight?”

“Why are you so annoying?” Aedion grumbles. “I was supposed to lead you to the dining room before you jumped out of your skin and locked us in that closet.”

“Don’t ever mention that again,” Fenrys growls, eyes narrowing. “And I’d say that it was a perfectly reasonable response to run away from little ones that looked fucking possessed.”

“Coward.”

“Do not start with me,” Fenrys huffs. “I didn’t even want to celebrate today!”

Aedion eyes him, frowning. Then he grins.

“You know,” the general drawls, slowing his steps, “the others are probably all in the dining room wondering where we are.”

“And?”

“And we have a whole mansion filled with paranormal paraphernalia. What do you say to giving them a bit of a surprise?”

Both wolves stop. And smirk.

~~~

“Where are they?” Aelin hisses, thighs aching from where she crouches behind a chair. “Why aren’t they here?”

“I’m done,” Rowan groans, unfolding from beneath a table. “They got lost. Aedion couldn’t find Fenrys. Fenrys doesn’t want to celebrate his birthday without his brother and this was a horrible idea. Pick a reason.”

“My back hurts,” Gavriel laments, tucked into a corner with Lysandra and Evangeline. “I’m feeling my age. Can I stand now?”

“Ancient warriors my ass,” Aelin grumbles, but nonetheless stands herself, hands poised on her hips. “Someone needs to go find them. Evangeline, you succeed and I’ll give you another sweet.”

The young woman’s eyes light up, as though someone threw a match onto two puddles of sugar-coated gasoline. Already her skin is practically vibrating from the copious amounts of sugar she’s consumed through the day. Hell, through the week.

“Maybe a break from sweets is needed,” Lysandra winces, stopping Evayfrom bolting out the room.

“Agreed,” Lorcan grumbles, huffing where he sits in an armchair, never even pretending to hide.

Elise pops up from behind the chair, lips pursed in concern. “Either they were lost or distracted by the children. I’ll go look.”

Before she can exit the room the door shudders with a bang, everyone turning defensive at the sound. Lysandra bears claws as all the fae in the room growl, Elide palming a small knife as Lorcan rises from his chair. A horrendous howl of pain echoes through the room.

The door swings open, a blood drenched body stumbling in before splattering to the ground. Cries of distress fill the space, growing louder at the red-streaked creature that pounces on Aedion’s bloody body, taking his neck between its jaws and wrenching loose a sticky, pink mass. The monsters body seems to flicker in and out of existence, a morbid spectre. Lysandra shrieks, Gavriel yelling and making a start towards the creature and his sons corpse. Everyone makes to move forward, distraught.

Until Aedion’s corpse starts shaking with laughter. As the spectre- the wolf drenched in red juice- starts licking the sugary sweet syrup of fake blood off him.

“Stop- you- that’s disgusting!” Aedion snorts, attempting to push Fenrys’s muzzle back from where it nudges at his neck.

“Oh my gods,” Lysandra hisses, eyes wide, clenching at her heart.

Gavriel and everyone else in the room groans, slumping into a chair or against each other. Except Evangeline, who cackles wildly.

“Sugar taffy!” She crows, pointing to the sticky pink mass they thought was Aedion’s skin in the low light of the doorway. “Brilliant! Next time you should use extra corn syrup to make it darker, like actual flesh!”

“Atta girl!” Aedion beams, clambering to his feet.

“Idiots,” Lysandra scolds with no bite, whacking his chest. “We nearly killed Fenrys. Look at your poor father.”

Indeed, Gavriel has turned several shades grey, slumped against the corner he was once hiding in, a hand over his face.

“Very clever,” Aelin sighs, kneeling next to Fenrys and wrapping an arm around his thick and furry neck. “But now you have taffy all in your muzzle and fur.”

She receives a lick on the cheek in response. She revolts in horror, everyone else cackling, even Lorcan sporting a grin.

“I just lost fifty years,” Gavriel croaks, closing his eyes. “Fenrys, I nearly killed you.”

A flash fills the room, and Fenrys smirks in his fae form. “Keep dreaming.”

He and Aedion cackle, jabbing each other as they make their way towards the table of food.

“I predicted this,” Rowan grumbles, taking his seat.

“Whatever you say,” Aelin sighs. “Happy harvest festival everyone. And happy birthday, Fenrys.”

The male actually smiles.

———

The spooky theme of this fic is thanks to Terrasen’s scary holiday, the harvest festival of Hollows Eve! I like to imagine Fenrys’s first birthday without his brother would be tough. But nothings a better distraction than some terrifying pranks!

[the-incapable-hero]

You know what I find really really cool? Stories in the SMP. It's just so cool how everyone has something unique going on about them. Each and every one has their own morals, goals, and values. The stories are so interesting because they span the person's whole life and while some are only a small amount of time so far, others have been going on for thousands of years. Their stories connect to other's stories and create a gorgeous woven web of lifetimes and interactions. It's all put on display in the SMP.

Not to say that it doesn't come at a price. Stories have been cut short and others have been turned into something grim that makes your chest ache and the air feel thick with longing for a better circumstance. I've seen a lot of their stories now. To summarize a few off of the top of my head:

A leader at first and too skilled for his own good, he spent his early days carefree in his own world. From his point of view, the world began to rip away his control and send peace spiraling away, all because of the people he let into his life. To everyone else, he went mad with his own power and convinced himself that the ends justify the means, only those means would negate the good intentions of the ends.

His best friend who stuck to his side to the end, with will forged by flames and a sword pointed forward. At least, he thought he'd keep moving forward next to his friend. In reality, he'd slowly realize just how deep he'd fallen into hubris and the man born in fire would let the spark in his eyes be safe kept by someone else.

They both had another friend too, one that was originally present all the time. Every moment he’d spend with them and their early days were filled with laughter. But as he saw his friends begin to descend into conflict, he’d sit in his house and stay away from the people he used to know as his absolute best friends. Ridden with a sudden and mysterious condition, he’d sleep for days and wake up to a different world, almost compelled to just go back to sleep.

A man outside of their group, but still close as could be. His voice had made music and his hands had made prose, his mind had built daydreams and his will had built bonds. But not everything was meant to stay and a mind open to creation is a mind open to corruption. He’d left his family behind along with his life and his best friend.

There was a son as well, born to his unstable father and mysterious mother. Though he was just as mysterious since he didn’t share any looks whatsoever with either of his parents, and he’d spend most of his life looking for something he could call family but he was destined to fall victim to the harsh waves of reality and war brought by his own father.

A boy, a friend, and most importantly, a fighter. He’d fight for people, he’d fight for countries, he’d fight for memories and progress and justice. He’d fight for bonds and homes and life. He’d spend his whole time there fighting and of course he’d get beaten down time and time again, only to somehow squeeze by with a good humored shout that ignored how he knew his future would be composed entirely of fighting.

A boy, a friend, and most importantly, a survivalist. He’d survived wars, downfalls, torture. He’d survived leadership, betrayal, and loss. He’d make it through trial upon trial, practically worn down to the point where he believed that to struggle wasn’t an option, but he’d survive still to see another day. He’d survive and leave his fighting friend behind. He’d survive and wonder if isolation was truly the best option until he concluded that since he’d tried everything else, it had to be.

Warrior of blood who’d been plagued by voices and brought to a sporadic quiver when his loyalty to a person had been betrayed. He’d growl with anger and forge his weapons, fighting and destroying what he knew in his core to be the biggest problem in the story of his “friends”. He knew he’d be hated, but if he were to be hated, then the voices told him that he might as well make it a spectacle.

A father that protected his son to the very end, even if it meant freeing him from his own mind and his own bloody downfall. The wind was taken from him in exchange for his son’s safety and silvery feathers had been torched ashen grey. The burn of explosion had attracted him to the chill of an icy tundra, away from the people he knew didn’t like him. Though perhaps new beginnings weren’t out of the question and he had enough of a heart to allow those with good intentions into his life.

Of course… there are so many more. The traitor, the mindless, the leader, the conflicted… the list keeps on going. Behind every single person is a story and I can’t help but appreciate that. It’s such a unique thing that can really only be obtained through the collective interaction of many many people. It’s interesting to see all of it.

I get a tightness in my chest every time I see it and I’m immediately glad that I write it down. So many stories that I get to witness. I wish that I was able to keep them all in my mind, but since my own story is just as crisis ridden, it’s hard to do that. My memory just keeps getting worse. The journals help though. Ranboo was right.

Oh, this is turning into more of a journal instead of just a mind dump. Oh well. It’s not like anyone other than me will see it. Maybe though, in some strange alternate reality, I somehow was able to share these stories. So, I guess, to the people in that alternate world: I hope you’re finding these stories interesting, and even if you don’t know how our stories will end, I hope you’ll make the effort to remember them. I can speak from experience that losing the memories of stories is perhaps worse than those stories ending.

[sporadiclilbook]

Songbird

Yan!Childe x Singer/Dancer!Khaenri'ahn! reader

Proof-read by: @choquackette

a/n: in a way, does this count as a songfic :D? Also I'm gonna use Lost in Thoughts All Alone for this. And to be fair you're pretty much like Shigure/Azura from fates in this

TW: Kidnapping

You are the ocean's gray waves

Destined to seek life beyond the shore

Just out reach

Your voice rang out through the crowd who was listening. Your Hydro Vision glowed as you made particles of water float around you. It created an illusion that made them looked like it was sparkling. It was mesmerising. To Childe, it amazed him how you used it so beautifully for a show. Unlike his more....bloodthirsty uses of his. To think a Vision can do something so graceful and morbid at the same time.

Of course he had his Electro Delusion but this is the Vision we're talking about. He uses it as a weapon while you used it for entertainment. To be honest, he never thought he'd see something like this. It was all thanks to a mission he has to do. Tailing a guy who was in debt to the Fatui and all. Childe think he was a fool. Instead of trying to make his business better, he wastes it on shows like these. But now that he sees you, he understand why. Your exotic appearance was a sight to behold. The only known person to have the same eyes as you was that Favonius Cavalry Captain and he only showed one eye. One already can make one look intriguing but having both made you look ethereal.

Yet the water ever change

Flowing like time

The path is yours to climb

Your dance was graceful, fluid movements that did flow like water. Childe think you could've been a good sword fighter if you were able to incorporate these movements into sword fighting. But for now he'll enjoy your voice and dancing. There's just something about it he loved so much. Sure fighting is always the one he loves but there's just something about you that he's attracted to. Was it your appearance? Vocals? Movements? Or those pupils of yours? He thinks it's quite silly, he doesn't even know who you are and yet......

A burdened heart

Sinks into the ground

Here he is, eager to look for you after this whole mission thing. If there's one thing he knows, is to not judge someone's prowess by appearance. Take the traveler for example. They have a petite form and yet they were able to defeat his Foul Legacy form! Who knows what you might have in store for him? Just the thought of you actually being able to fight makes him feel giddy.

Alas, all he can do for now is listen to your song. With that said, he didn't forget his mission. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw his target. The man was also in awe of looking at you. Too in awe of noticing his presence that is. He'll get right back to him when your show's over.

A veil falls away without a sound

Not day nor night

Wrong nor right

For truth and peace, you'll fight

He wondered if his siblings would love your singing. Sleeping to a lullaby sounded like a nice idea to him. Why he even thought of that was a mystery to him. Is this what they called love at first sight? He just can't help but wished to woken up by your voice that will roll out his name softly in the morning.

Sing with me a song

Of silence and blood

The rain falls, but can't wash away the mud

Within my ancient heart dwells

Madness and pride

Can't no one hear my cry?

The song ended and the crowd threw a round applause. You bowed and left the stage immediately. Childe, who hasn't forgot his mission, quickly trailed the guy he was after outsidd. "Ah! Hello there Mr. Wei Xing! I reckon you know who I am yes?" And so from there, he scared the poor man to the death with threats and grim reminder of the debt he owed. But Childe was feeling a bit merciful today "Tell you what I'll give you some more time on one condition." Wei Xing, his target, was confused. The Fatui giving a bit of leverage? Still, he would be an idiot to refuse "And that condition is....?"

Childe chuckled at his quick response. It's natural after all. All of his intimidation must have triggered his survival instincts. "Just answer me this. Who was that singer with a Hydro Vision?" Wei Xing was baffled. That's all he wanted? "A-as far as I know, t-their name is (Y/N). They're a performer that was passing by Liyue to gain more popularity across Teyvat." Childe hummed as he hears it. 'A travelling performer huh? Looks like I'll have to act quick if I want to meet them' There was moment of silence before he asked another question "When are they leaving?" "I-in a few days"

Childe let him go and as promised gave him more time for him to pay his debt. Should he fails again to do so.....he'll be history. He only had a few days to meet and talk to you so he has to be quick. Thankfully being a Fatui Harbinger does have it perks. One of those perks being having informants that can collect informations for you. And since this is no top secret info, it was quite easy to find out where you were staying and exactly how many days before you were gone.

As he wait for you at the road that led guests from Wangshu Inn to Liyue, he thought of what you might say. Maybe you'll recognise him right away? Or perhaps you were too innocent to notice the horrors of the Fatui. As he notices your figure walking on the horizon, he prepared to greet you casually. But then he was perplexed by your outfit. It seemed less travelling performer and more of a......fighter? Interesting. He drops the idea of greeting you and opted to follow your path instead.

He followed you until you reached a domain that was near one of the ruins. You stood in front of the entrance as he awaits your next move, intentionally letting his presence seep out. "You're not doing that much of a great job to hide yourself, Fatui. Or is it intentional?" Childe walks out from the spot he was hiding in and approached you slowly while saying "Well, isn't this a surprise? I just happened to be passing b-" His actions stopped midway as your pointed a spear at him. "Not a step closer, what do you want?"

Your starred pupils were sharped and narrowed. It held an intense emotion in it. Childe held up his hands in some sort of mock surrender and laughed a bit "Hey now! There's no need to get aggressive, is there? I was just curious why someone like you is doing here. Not exactly a good place to perform isn't it?"

"That's none of your business."

"Are you gonna go inside this domain?"

"...."

"If so, can I follow?"

"No."

"Please?"

"I said no."

"I'm very good at fighting you know. It'll be a shame if someone like you gets inju--"

Your spear was closer to him now. Threatening to slice him open any minute you wanted to. It didn't faze him at all. In fact it made him thrilled. He knew there was something about you that was enchanting and perhaps this was it. An unrelenting fighting spirit. In a blink of an eye, he immediately summoned his hydro javelin and parried your spear. You backed away in surprise but kept your guard up.

"Listen I have no time for you Fatui. Leave me be. I have more important matters to attend to." Childe just gave a fox-like grin at your attempt to intimidate him. "Is that so? Like what exactly?" You rolled your eyes at him. He was getting annoying for sure. "Like I said, none of your business." It looks like you might have to halt your plans for tonight. The Abyss Order can wait. "So, what are you gonna do little star?" Without warning you immediately engulfed yourself in a torrent of water and disappears. Childe was shocked when he sees it but still grinned. If you wanted to be a challenge then so be it. If he can't bother you during your 'missions' then he'll bother you during the day.

And that is exactly what he did.

For two days straight he kept trying to talk with you whenever you were out visiting the Liyue Harbour. At first you tolerated him but now he was insufferable. You were glad you were leaving as soon as possible next day but Childe was not having any of that. In just the span of two days his little curiosity had turned into a tsunami of obsession. Your expressions and reactions not to mention the little heart warming moments he saw you cheering up some of the kids in Liyue. He wants to know even more of you.

And precisely why he is fighting you right now.

As he has deducted, your move was as graceful as your dance. Your fighting style was as unique as your eyes. Something he has never seen before. You dodged his flurry of arrows, panting while doing so. How long has he fought you? It felt like an eternity. You tried to dash to him and deliver a swift strike but him and his stupid shield won't let you. You jumped back just in time before he strike his hydro swords at you. You can't even get an elemental advantage here, you had to mostly rely on your weapon.

"Well (Y/N), it's been a fun fight really. But why don't you surrender now? You're tired aren't you? I promise things will go smoothly if you just give up."

You didn't want to. There's no way you'll give up. What does he wants with you anyway? You only stared down at him in silence, refusing to answer. "Ah, stubborn now aren't we? I guess I'll have to use a little force...." He activated his Delusion and immediately dashed towards you, giving you no time to react. The electricity made you groan in pain. You use your spear as a stabiliser from falling to the ground but you were running out of energy at this point.

Before you could fall, Childe took a hold of your body. "See? It's not that hard to give up." You wanted to mutter a remark but darkness shrouded your vision before you fainted. You woke up in an unfamiliar room. Certainly not Liyue's architecture nor your homeland's. Your first thought was to look for an escape.

The door was locked.

Windows were barred.

The wardrobe had the clothes you brought with you across Teyvat along with some new ones.

There was a chain at your leg that's long enough to get you to the bathroom.

Your Vision and weapon was missing.

You waited in silence, pondering what to do. You certainly can't escape like this. But then you heard the door open. And as expected it was him. "Did you had a good sleep? You were knocked out for a while there." You scowled at him "Drop the act, where am I?" Childe hummed before answering "You're in Snezhnaya of course! Where else would I bring you? I'm quite lucky to be able to bring you here and visit my siblings! Say would you like to visi--" "Why would I do that?"

His grin dropped and his eyes stared at you. His eyes was....hollow...empty...devoid of any humanity in them. He walked towards you and you instinctively stepped back. He had you trapped against a wall. He lifted up your chin and let out a small but terrifying smile "Well, because your fate is in my hands. There's nothing you can do now, is there? But I'll forgive your behaviour for now.....if you sing that is."

You hated it. You hated the fact he was right. So you had no choice but to stay obedient and be his 'little songbird' until you found a window of opportunity. He lets go of your chin and sat down on a chair. With a heavy heart, you opened your mouth to sing.

You are the ocean's gray waves

Destined to seek life beyond the shore

Just out of reach

Childe smiled as you sing. He's sure you'll come around and fall in love with him soon enough.

Yet the water ever change

Flowing like time

The path is yours to climb

Shame that you can't meet his family yet. They would've love you. He can't wait for that day to arrive though. He can't help but feel joy. His little songbird, all his and no one else.

You are the ocean's gray waves.

[hes-writer]

Ruin

Summary: im not sure how to summarize this without spoiling the story

Warning: angst, bits of fluff here and there

Word Count; 4158 words

A/N: the long-awaited part 6 of the Tarnish series! A collab with @devilinbetweenthesheet-s. My attention span is short itself so I've decided to split it up into two parts.

UNEDITED

___

Harry tried to see the brighter side of the situation because it truly was something to look forward to. Having the chance to get to know Halo was something that he should be grateful for. As Y/N said, Harry did not deserve to be a part of her life, despite the fact that he was the father. And somewhere, somehow— he understood where she was coming from.

Harry honestly wouldn’t know what he would do if the roles were reversed; if Y/N were the one to have been cheating on him. He would not have a clue if Harry would be as kind to her as she was with him. If an outsider were to assess the situation between Harry and Y/N, they would definitely choose her side to be in favour of. So far, Harry still wasn’t able to pinpoint what exactly Y/N had done wrong for him to be swayed by an illicit affair. Was there even a moment in time that he could vividly see where he made the decision to just up and betrayed her trust? Because if there was; either his memory has gone to shit or Harry was more of a jerk than he served himself.

To put things into perspective, Y/N was the perfect partner and Harry had somehow lost sight of that by cheating on her. Don’t get him wrong; Camille was good, great, even. Yet Y/N was an amazing woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Coincidentally, those were the same type of things that Harry needed, too. As much as it pained him to say it, Camille’s rejection of their own little family made him rethink his decision-making process. Harry has learned more about himself in these past few months than he did in his entire lifetime.

For starters, he cleared it up that he had absolutely no excuse for cheating on Y/N except the fact that his retention span lasted a good few years before he was in search of something fresh; something new and exciting. Maybe it scared him just how serious she was in having a family in the future that his subconscious thought that Harry needed one last hurrah to get the infidelity out. Besides, divorces are more complicated when there are children involved.

Secondly, being with Camille was an infatuation that lasted for a long, three years—beginning while Harry was in a relationship with Y/N. Feelings were still there for sure, but he just didn’t know if it was enough to make him stay, especially when Y/N and baby Halo were right there waiting for him. They actually weren’t; Harry just liked to pretend that they were so that he could justify the consequences of his actions.

Camille was trying to make things work with him; Harry could see that. However, there were only so many things that she could do to improve their relationship before she had to change the choices that she had made years prior. Camille really didn’t want to say that she had refuted the idea of not having kids for the sake of making a relationship prosper, but maybe it was what she had to do to make him stay. She wanted a happy life with someone who wanted the same things as her. Harry wasn’t the man who shared a mutual agreement and she was pushed to question her options.

Nonetheless, Camille and Harry stuck with each other because they were all they knew for the past three and a half years. It was definitely ironic for Harry to say that he couldn’t just leave a three-year relationship behind for another woman; because he had done that before. Now, he was a hypocrite too? His ego cannot take it.

____

Connor wrapped his arms around Y/N’s middle as she washed the dishes in the sink. Their water heater was broken so the stream that came from the faucet sometimes teetered from freezing cold to extremely hot. Right now, she was scrubbing the sponge on the porcelain as quickly as possible while the water was at the right temperature.

Y/N turned her head to the side, pressing a kiss on Connor’s cheek. He rested his chin on her shoulder, bobbing up and down as she moved her arms.

“Is this really a good idea, baby?” Connor asked, staring at the way her lashes fluttered in a pregnant pause, taking a deep breath.

She nodded, reaching over slightly to rest the wet dish on the drying rack. “Halo deserves to at least know her real father,”

And it was true. What kind of mother would Y/N be if she kept a secret like that from her own daughter? The past two years was a constant ping-pong battle of reaching out to Harry and sharing the news to him; then, Y/N would be hit with a shot of realization, wondering if this would ruin his current lifestyle.

“I understand. What if he leaves again? Hate to remind you but Harry left you once before, don’t think he’ll hesitate to do so again,”

She froze at Connor’s words. Y/N was aware that he only said that in good faith, to remind her of how hurt she was at the time and just how long it took for her to be able to finally breathe again.

One side of Y/N urged to still defend Harry. She wanted to turn and around, yell at him because Connor doesn’t know Harry as she does. Harry wasn’t the type to build a child’s dreams up only for him to personally manhandle the heart and crush it in his fist. There was a reason why he was a godfather to so many kids; Ruby, Arlo and Jackson—because he was capable. Harry was a nurturing father who put himself on the back burner in favour of making sure that the little ones were safe and secured. He had no problem being third if it meant that the kids were first, then Y/N, then him.

It all sounded so good in Y/N’s head; so well-rehearsed and very well thought out. The monologue that had somehow stuck in the sides of her brain like a script taped to the wall, ready for the time it needed to be recited. The shredded pieces of paper also reminded her that Y/N might’ve known Harry before, but she certainly doesn’t anymore. In fact, she knew just as much as Connor did.

Just like Y/N had grown and evolved into a new person, Harry was not the same guy he once was when they were together.

“I told him the consequences if he did,”

Connor pulled back, stepping away from her. “But wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t take that chance? Who knows what he might do. . .” He trailed off, grabbing a dry rag to wipe the water dripping from the dish.

Y/N took a leap of faith in letting Harry in. He was a wild card. He could promise one thing but would mean another. Or he could recite a vow and completely annihilate the person as he did with her. Yet somehow, Y/N couldn’t resist the opportunity to give him one chance. Maybe it was because a small part of her craved to re-create a happy family that they had always wanted.

“It’s a risk. I know that” Y/N rinsed a cup, swirling the water in circles. She felt like that whenever Harry was around.

“So why are you still doing it?” Y/N opened her mouth to answer, “And tell me the truth this time, yeah?”

Her boyfriend stared at her with an unreadable emotion in his eyes, lips drew taut in a straight line and arms were crossed over his broad chest. The pressure was immense on Y/N’s shoulders. She was torn between admitting what she had buried deep below the sand or simply glossing over it like a figure skater. Nonetheless, Y/N was on thin ice.

For years, she had flicked away the remaining feelings that stayed with her. But they were persistent in sticking by her side. It wasn’t like Y/N could completely erase Harry from her life--from who she was. She still dressed like him, evidenced by the matching pair of Gucci loafers she chose not to wear for the night in fear that he would coincidentally be sporting the same footwear.

Furthermore, they had a child together! Halo was the spitting image of him. It was hard not to be reminded by a man she once loved when their little baby was both of them mixed in one. So did Y/N still love Harry? She couldn’t deny how much her heart fluttered seeing him stutter over his words at the park. Y/N just wasn’t sure if it was from anxiety and nervousness or excitement and anticipation.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Harry had sneakily closed a sleeping Halo’s bedroom door. His trek back to the kitchen was slow, slightly afraid of the awaiting talk he and Y/N--and possibly Connor-- have yet to have. Harry wanted to be there for Halo and for Y/N every step of the way, but he knew that Y/N would not allow him around if his intentions were to cater to a relationship with her. She was already tolerating him as is.

Standing behind the thin wall that acted as a partition from the hallway to the kitchen, Harry carefully placed his hands against the barrier to steady himself. He didn’t know if his legs could take whatever answer would spill from Y/N’s mouth. If she admitted her true feelings, he would stumble and melt into a puddle. He would be confused, but Harry wouldn’t be opposed to it; he was in a relationship after all. If she denied it--which was the more likely option--, his heart would break silently in his chest.

Harry numbed himself of the guilt raking at his ankles. He was well aware that this was a private conversation but hey; it was not his fault that he had ears straining to listen to Y/N’s reply.

“Do you still love him?” Connor followed up, voice grim. Almost fearful to find out the truth. Harry was, too.

Y/N paused her thoughts as well as her actions, flinching at the sudden intrusion of Connor’s question. She flinched, yelping a little and jumping backwards when the broken water heater subdued the filtering liquid into a burning hot splatter on her skin. Connor picked his feet up in alarm, grabbing at Y/N’s wrist to see the minor injury on the back of her palm.

“Ow!” Y/N whisper-shouted, soothing the ache by situating it between her thighs before shakily showing it to Connor; the doctor.

“Let me see, baby,”

Harry peeked his head around the corner, almost losing his cover with the way his feet instantaneously wanting to move towards a hurting Y/N. Good thing he caught himself. Surely they would put two and two together and realize that Harry was eavesdropping.

That decision came with a laceration to his heart. Harry got a first-class ticket to register that the couple was everything he and Y/N were. The pet names, the domesticity of their actions. The caring glances and constant check-ups.

Deciding to come out of hiding, Harry almost had a heart attack when he turned the corner and was met face to face with Connor. His brows had dipped in worry, face determined to grab some cream to apply to the burn from their first-aid kit in the bathroom. Harry guessed that his whizzing thoughts failed to hear the quiet instruction.

The man jolted in surprise, stopping quickly in his tracks, “Oh hey! Is Halo asleep?” Connor gave him a smile despite the confusion etching in his forehead. Harry nodded dumbly, lips pursing like a fish. “Y/N’s just burned her hand, nothing too serious though,”

He looked over his shoulder to see Y/N eyeing the both of them suspiciously, still clutching the burnt skin close to her. “Oh, I see,”

Connor smacked a firm hand on his shoulder, stepping around him to grab the cream. Harry walked towards Y/N, noticing that she was soothing the painful ache with ice wrapped in layers of tissue. She was softly hissing through her teeth once in a while.

“You okay?”

She tilted her head at him, appearing to be dazed out in her thoughts. “Yeah, uh, nothing too bad,”

Harry kept his distance, leaning on the other side of the counter. He started off by saying, “Thank you for giving me this chance,”

Y/N graced him with a smile, standing up straighter when Connor appeared with a tube in his hand. Harry watched as he unscrewed the cap, placing it beside her. He squeezed a bit of the cream unto his fingertip before applying it directly on Y/N’s skin. She winced, wanting to pull her wrist away from his grip but Connor didn’t let her, “It’s gonna be fine, baby,”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, continuing to rub circles on the burn until Y/N visibly relaxed through slouched shoulders and less shaky breaths.

Harry was staring at them like a kicked puppy. He was fussy and frustrated all in one. He wanted the attention that Y/N was giving Connor. He wanted to be Connor, but both of them were too wrapped up in their little love bubble to notice Harry’s squinted eyes and pinched brows.

He was frustrated because even if he wasn’t the direct cause of her pain, Harry had somehow found a way to continue hurting her and Connor was always there to pacify his wrongful actions. Harry hated that this was how fate had planned his life.

Harry cleared his throat, raising a fist to his mouth, “Think I should go,” His thumb pointed over his shoulder, “Uh thank you again,”

Y/N snapped her head to him, gaze lowering in a timid manner as if she forgot that he was even there in the first place. Connor was the first to reply, “Alright, man. See you whenever,” He capped the tub, shoving it in his back pocket to return to its place.

She leaned on her tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips, muttering something in his ear that had Connor teasingly wrapping his hands on her hips. Harry looked away, taking long strides to the entryway instead.

“Harry, wait!”

He shuddered at the memory of the words that had changed his life when Gemma told him the truth. Harry’s shoe was half-way one when he turned around. “Yeah?”

Y/N was holding a folded brochure, “Halo has a recital this weekend for her dance class,” She handed it to him, “Maybe you’d want to go? You can bring Camille if you want but I think it would be better if you didn’t. She’s still new to this and I don’t want her asking too many questions until she can unders--,”

“I’ll go,” Harry cut her off, unfolding the folded paper. The venue was about twenty minutes away from his place. It was only an hour-long considering the skill set of two-year-olds but it was a fun way for parents to cheer on their little ones. Harry’s previously sour mood was now replaced with giddiness at the sight of his daughter in a pretty pink tutu, twirling on her feet. He was sure that Halo was born to become a performer like him.

She sighed in relief, puffing her cheeks out cutely, “It’s a private dance class. Pretty high end so the security should be okay,”

And there it was again. The constant reminder that Harry was otherworldly to some people. As much as he loved living his lifestyle, he sometimes wished that he was a normie. That was a lot to ask for considering his current situation with his daughter, but a man can dream.

“Got it,”

Y/N leaned over to show him the back of the leaflet, “Just show them this ticket and security should let you in. Halo wanted me to give that to you because she was too shy earlier. I know it’s short notice but I guess she was comfortable enough to ask you,”

Harry blushed at the admittance, mentally patting himself at the back for making his daughter feel at ease in a short amount of time.

“I’ll be there,” He pushed his heel to adorn his sneakers. Y/N bit her lip, she looked hesitant, “It’s okay if you don’t want to go, by the way. I can explain that you’re busy. She’ll probably understand,”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Harry wasn’t going to ruin his progressive relationship with his daughter on ‘probably’. “Y/N, s’alright. No problem, yeah? I’ll be there,”

___

Where was he?

It was two days after the dinner and Harry’s promise of attending Halo’s recital was vanishing with each passing second. Every time the hand of the clock ticked to indicate that another minute had elapsed. Harry still wasn’t jogging through the carpeted middle of the small theatre to where Connor and Y/N were seated. Two empty seats were left at the end of the aisle to aid Harry--and possibly Camille--a smooth arrival without creating any distractions.

There were only five minutes left before the stage crew were to dim the spotlights illuminating the room. Y/N was checking her watch what felt like every second, clicking her phone on and off once in a while worried that something may have happened to Harry. Maybe security wouldn’t let him in. The gnawing feeling at the pit of her stomach suggested that Harry just forgot the event tonight but Y/N would cross the bridge when they got to it. Regardless, her nerves were left unsettled as swallowing proved to be more difficult with the way a sip of her water had her gulping audibly. Connor wasn’t there to lend a soft hand on her upper back to help her breathe.

Speaking of, Connor had taken the initiative to visit Halo backstage. The ballet teacher was growing weary of the way the little dancer ran out from beside the stage to stop in front of her parents, asking, “Where’s Hawwy?”.

Halo had done it three times in hopes of receiving an answer aside from, “He’s not here yet,” Y/N tucked a fallen strand of hair from the otherwise sleek bun from beside her cheeks. Her daughter’s form slouching as her pretty eyes watered slightly, “He’s not coming? You told me he was coming, mama,”

Y/N glanced at Connor nervously, being met with an ‘I-told-you-so’ look which didn’t really help the situation. Luckily, the teacher had approached them with a clipboard on hand, searching for the ballerina. The teacher had suggested that one of them stay with her behind the curtain until the show began. Connor volunteered.

“Better hope he comes or else we’ll have to deal with the consequences. I really don’t want to see her heartbroken before of a promise he couldn’t keep,” Connor muttered, following the woman but not before thumbing circles on Y/N’s flushed cheek.

Y/N knew that he meant well. She also didn’t want to comfort a heartbroken Halo because Harry failed to show up where he promised he would be. And now, with a little less than two minutes before showtime, Connor was sent back beside her. Parents were being ushered to find their seats before the lights dimmed and it would be difficult to maneuver through knees and legs.

“Is he here?” Connor questioned, draping a hand on her shaking knee. Y/N shook her head, casting another glance at the auditorium doors. He waved at Halo who peeked her head between the silk curtains, wandering eyes looking at the empty seat beside Y/N.

“No. Hasn’t texted or answered his phone either,” Y/N was about to dial Harry’s contact once more in a desperate attempt to reach him. However, the dimming lights indicated that it was too late. Connor laced their fingers together, offering apologetic eyes and a tight-lipped smile; they would have to nurse a broken heart later tonight.

_____

Harry was in the middle of buttoning his patterned shirt, staring at his reflection in the mirror to silently judge his fashion choice for the night. Was it too much for a kids’ ballet recital? He deemed that it was, stretching his arms to remove the fabric adorning his chest, moving to grab the pink, flamingo patterned shirt instead. He took his time, granted that he had about an hour before the recital started.

He smoothed the fabric over his broad shoulders, pausing when Camille walked in. Harry locked his green eyes at her through the mirror as she walked to their shared bed, sitting at the foot of it.

“What d’ya think?”

She hummed in response, absentmindedly nodding in agreement when Harry asked if it was good. Both Camille and Harry had talked about his relationship with Halo as soon as she landed at the airport. He didn’t want to keep any secrets from her. Fortunately, Camille was very understanding of his situation, offering him support and encouragement to build a bond with his daughter.

What Camille didn’t reveal was that she was a bit antsy of Harry’s relationship with Y/N. She meant everything she had said to him, but it was no guarantee that Harry would ignite another connection with his ex-girlfriend. Not that Camille didn’t trust him. It was just a bit concerning because she believed that how a relationship starts is how it will end. Harry certainly had a history of straying away from his present partner.

Harry was currently in their walk-in closet, finding a pair of slacks that weren't too formal or casual. Camille mulled the thoughts in her head. She loved Harry dearly and would do anything for him. Well, anything except having children of their own. He had mostly accepted her decision, only wincing a little when the topic of a family was brought up by mutual friends and family once in a while.

Truth to be told, Camille was scared. She was afraid that Harry would leave for Y/N because she had Halo. They were the family that he had always wanted and although Camille wasn’t too keen on giving him the same; she was debating on it.

“How’s this, Cam?” Harry retreated with two pairs of pants. On one hand was a pair of straight-leg skinny jeans that he hadn’t worn in years. The other held brown, corduroy, striped slacks. “Or this one?”

She bit her lip, standing up slowly, walking over to him. “What do I think?”

He nodded, innocently jutting his bottom lip at her as he looked back and forth.

Camille swathed her hands on his shoulders, ghosting her mouth over his ear, “I think I like you better without them,” Her finger traced his collarbone, swirling at the dip of his throat. “Without anything,”

Harry gulped harshly. He felt Camille unbuttoning his shirt, gliding her palms downwards until she was cupping his bulge, “Camille, wait,” He flicked his watch to check the time. It took twenty minutes to get there, maybe even more with traffic and parking.

She dragged him to the bed by the ends of his opened shirt, locking her lips with his plush ones. He rested a knee on the mattress, his hands at the back of her head as Camille continued to pull him down.

Pulling away, Harry panted, “What are you doin’?” He laid his creased forehead on hers.

Camille supported herself on her hands, moving her face back until she was able to get a clear view of his perplexed expression, “I was thinking that maybe we could. . . try having a baby, H,” Her voice was soft, almost timid and she was doing her best not to break eye contact to show her sincerity.

Harry gasped in surprise, “Wha--? Really? Are you serious?” His tone gained a pitch as excitement enthralled his senses. The smile on his face was wide and reached his bright eyes. “Baby, are you sure?”

Camille nodded, grinning softly. “Yes,’

“Oh my--this is. . .,” Harry pulled at the locks of his hair, pacing around the room. “This is great! Our own family. Jesus. I can’t believe it,” Tears sprung on his corneas.

He kneeled between her legs, taking her wrist and pressing a gentle kiss on her skin, murmuring ‘I love you’ repeatedly.

“Are you going to keep doing that?” Camille asked, spreading her legs rhetorically. Harry observed her position, nodding enthusiastically.

Another glance at his watch indicated that Harry was absolutely pushing it with being late to Halo’s recital. Yet one enchanting kiss from Camille wiped his thoughts clean. He was getting what he wanted; a family of his own.

___

Let us know what you thought! The seventh part of the Tarnish series will be uploaded on Patreon on Sept 29!

___

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[honey-milk-depresso]

Meanie (Azul Ashengrotto x Reader) 3

part 1

part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 (END)

“What do you mean they fainted..?”

“Well not really fainted, but rather just fell face flat all of a sudden.”

“Where are they now?”

“In the infirmary.”

Jade informed Azul what had happened in class. Apparently during alchemy class you fell face first flat onto the floor so abruptly, jerking and writhing.

Azul immediately rushed to see you. You’re his best friend, and well, maybe a little more to him..

but the fact doesn’t change that he still cares for you.

Whatever has happened to you, isn’t normal.

No alchemy accident when you fell? Certainly odd. At least there would be a potion to help you.

=============================================================

“What happened?”

“Huh? Oh Azul? I didn’t expect you to see me!”

Truthfully, you didn’t want him to see you like this, looking weak and helpless on a bed.

“Jade told me what happened. What’s going on?”

“Ah well... I eh, sorta tripped and fall! Ehehehe...” “This isn’t a joking matter, y/n. Face first flat on the floor? You could’ve injure yourself far worse.”

“Uh huh. But! It didn’t happen so...”

“You won’t always be lucky.”

A moment of silence came in.

“Mind telling me how you tripped?”

“Um...”

Great, how do you make a reasonable and real sounding excuse besides ‘ Oh I have Huntington’s Disease?’.

“It’s just... natural. I was born weird.”

NICE ONE-

Azul raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t convinced. But he didn’t want to pry any further. A hit to the head surely wouldn’t make anyone to question them further and give them more headache.

“Whatever. I have the VIP room ready if you wanna come tonight, but I suggest not judging by your current state.”

You suddenly jerked up.

“NO! I mean no! I- I can- um- um-”

“You want to come to the lounge?”

“Yeah!”

As your disease start growing, you have a harder time trying to find words. And plus the increased insomnia, you barely have enough energy. But you want to spend the most time with your friends before you go. You’re gonna give it your all to make sure you and everyone is happy, to make your death less sad.

“Call me. I’ll escort you to Monstro Longue once you feel better.”

“Alright!”

=============================================================

“Took you long enough.”

“Hehehe, yeah..”

You had a hard time trying to find Azul’s number, although he would appear at the very top because his name and surname start with the letter frickin’  ‘A’, the first letter of the alphabet. And dialing and trying to remember his phone number was a nightmare. You had to ask Crowley to help you find his contact.

“Is it really that serious?”

“What??? Nooooo.”

“You’re in a damn wheelchair, y/n.”

“Well... Idia made it so I can control it myself! It even has magic in it so it can go by voice demand!”

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

“Anyways come on! Quit making a fuss over it! Let’s play!”

He sighed, praying you it’s not going to be like the last game you had a while back.

“Okay, look at what I- um-”

“What did you bring now?”

“Right! Here! UNO!”

“Oh sevens-”

“Come on let’s play!”

===========================================================

“How are you winning????”

“You didn’t even put the right color. That’s green not blue.”

“Oh. Whoops! Hehehehe...”

Your brain was getting messier and messier in identifying now. You were scared on how your brain was degenerating slowly, because you felt like each second it was eating away every thing you once knew.

“Okay fine! Another round!”

=============================================================

“Y/n, has been acting odd lately.”

“Oya oya?”

It’s true. You never showed up to any of your classes anymore, and the teachers weren’t acknowledging it, almost as if you didn’t exist.

And you showed up at Octavinelle less frequently nowadays.

“Ne~? Oh yeah, koebi chan hasn’t showed up today. Or any day! Hmm~ who am I supposed to finish with the next level of my game?~”

“And she my mushrooms stop coming from her.”

“And... she hasn’t been talking to me..”

Azul never wanted to admit it, but he liked you a lot. No, scratch that, loved you a lot. Sure you were kind off ‘too out there’ and cause a lot of shenanigans, but he got Floyd as another example, you were always there for him, and you never fail to make him smile at least twice.

“Was it something I said..?”

============================================================

“Am...do I really have five months to live..?”

“I’m afraid so, y/n. I’m so sorry.”

You looked down and stared at the blanket folds.

Your life span was getting shorter and shorter, it felt meaningless to even find a will to live. By this point, you rather end your life now.

But then what about your friends? Grim, Ace and Deuce? Jade, Floyd and... Azul?

“I’m allowing this for you only, y/n. You get to do whatever you want, just, don’t cause too much trouble. It’s about time you tell everyone what’s really going on.”

You felt your heartbeat increased tenfold, like something was clutching your heart even when your hand weren’t near your chest, strangling you with a strong feeling of anxiety.

“I-”

Crowley looked you, pupils widening. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked like a mess. Your heavy eye bags now becoming more visible as your eyes became puffy red.

“I want to live longer for- for-”

Azul.

=============================================================

Sorry this one was short. This isn’t even close to the end-

bruh-

but I hope you enjoyed it and I’ll try making part 4. Until then, see ya!

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

❥ 𝓗𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓐𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐻𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠! 𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜 × 𝐴𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚/𝑮𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒌 𝑴𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 𝑨𝑼

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 11.2𝑲

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒐𝒏.

“𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟….

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼'𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑟.”- 𝑈𝑛𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑛

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The young woman panted softly, her soft [insert color] locks flowing behind her head, as free and wild as she was. Although her body was already aching and desperately crying out for her to stop, she pushed on even further. Her legs continued running, she felt an intense burn rip through them but she didn't care at all. Her gaze was fixed on the orchid tree just a few meters in front of her, the object she used as her finishing line. With a loud grunt she pressed herself forward, nearly loosing her footing but eventually touching the trunk of it. Raspy breaths came out of her mouth, she inhaled and exhaled deeply, nonetheless a satisfied smile was spread across her countenance, proud that she didn't give up this time, that she was able to break past her limit and endure much more.

Dusting the dirt off her tunic, she picked up her container of water, quickly taking a long gulp from it before starting her journey back home. The sun was already starting to set and would probably have completely gone down by the time she got back, but she didn't mind. She felt satisfaction knowing she did something useful and that would maybe benefit her in the future. Standing in front of the tall gated doors, the guards posted at each end took one look at her before bowing their heads to her in respect. The doors were immediately opened and she stepped inside into a grandiose hall of the palace. Red and gold silk drapes were hung on each of the windows that allowed one to look out into the courtyard which was most commonly used by the royal women to walk about and chatter while their husbands were inside discussing political affairs or training out in the sparring hall. She could probably guess that her father was probably in his study room, pouring over documents, studying them intently and making sure they were all correct.

As she was making her way towards her room, she heard the sound of tiny giggling and high pitched voices rounding the corner she was just about to take. One of the girls stumbled into her as she was not paying attention to what was ahead of her, instead busy chatting with her friend next to her. But she wasn't surprised, after all, she knew her cousin Ariadne better than anyone else, never watching where she was going.

"Oh! Y/N. Didn't see you there." She gave her usual apology she did to almost anyone she crossed paths with that resulted in disaster.

Her friend next to her properly bowed to Y/N. Just cause she was privileged enough to be friends with the princess' cousin and member of the royal family, it did not mean they were equal in any way or form.

"You really should look ahead of you sometimes."

Y/N walked past both of them to go to her bed chamber, not missing at all the strange glances both girls gave her nor was blind to the way they peered at her athlete tunic as if they were horrified at what they saw. Y/N was used to it by now, she had accepted a long time ago that she was vastly different from all the girls her age in Greece.

For starters, not only was she the princess but she was the only heir her father had. Although her father was disappointed at never acquiring a male heir, especially after the death of his beloved wife, he decided to make the best of his situation, in this case, it meant preparing his daughter and having her properly educated in governmental affairs and politics, even against the advice of all his council men.

"My daughter will be able to do anything a male can do and better!" He always stated, and he was always proud to show his prized possession off.

He especially loved to boast about one thing in particular: her athleticism. Ever since she was young, she had already demonstrated an incredible strength and agility that immediately put her to be trained alongside other boys her age or older in the academy for future athletes. Her specialty was running, and she truly did love it. The rush flowing through her body, the pumping of her heartbeat, it was all worth it. She never cared that court officials would look at her weird or the ladies of the palace, including her own relatives, would often scoff or sneer at her rather 'unfeminine' appearance. That didn't matter to her at all.

"I am Y/N, I am me, and I'm happy of who I am."

She repeated what she often said in front of her mirror every night like a ritual before going to bed, her limbs exhausted after the long hours of training she put herself through. She did not actually have to train, it's not like she could actually compete in any Olympics or games the country held every year. But she kept pushing forward, knowing one day she'd have a reason to be running, she did not know what it was, but she could feel it.

Something big was going to come.

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"Too slow shortie."

Y/N grunted when her arch rival swiftly passed her on the track, a smug smile tugged on the corners of his lips. Wanting a take the smirk off, she pushed herself forward, wanting to catch up to him. She was a mere arm span away from him, which actually surprised him. She thrusted herself forward, but her ankle accidentally bent sideways, causing her to lose her balance and fall onto the floor. The golden haired man in front of her couldn't help himself as he stopped running and actually doubled over in laughter.

"Stop it Leon." She glared at him before inspecting her ankle to make sure there wasn't any serious damage to it.

"Or what? Will you ask your father to behead me?" He continued his teasing.

Not wanting to hear his annoying voice anymore, she quickly stood up and decided to just go find somewhere else to run instead of the track field. As she was leaving, Leon called out to her.

"Just give up Y/N! I'm the best runner in all of Greece! You'll never be able to beat me."

Y/N halted her steps, whipping her head towards him. He snickered at her attempt to intimidate him.

"What? Do you really believe you can beat me at least once?"

Y/N walked back over to him, looking up at him straight in the face.

"I don't believe. I will beat you one day and will make you regret all your words." She flashed him an icy smile.

"The day you beat me in a race is the day I'll die. I'll never allow myself to lose to a girl. " He firmly said.

Y/N lifted her hand up, unable to resist the urge to swing at him just once, but unfortunately a voice called out to her before she could even make contact with Leon.

"Y/N. You're needed back at the palace." The voice of her mentor and trainer, Milos, was sent to fetch her.

"Better run along now princess. It's time for your embroidery lessons." Leon winked at her before resuming his morning run.

Y/N angrily made her way to her mentor, who as usual had a small smile on his face.

"Morning to you my lady." He greeted her, extending a towel out to her

"Oh shut up. You distracted me from giving him a proper beating." She huffed as she yanked the towel away from him and draped it across her shoulders.

Milos let out a soft chuckle as he accompanied her back into the palace, leading her straight into her father's study room. Her father immediately stood up when he saw her.

"My beautiful daughter." He embraced her tightly, placing a kiss on her forehead.

Looking at her disheveled hair, glowing skin and red cheeks, he could guess where she had been.

"Did you have a good run today?" He was always curious about her progress.

Y/N immediately nodded.

"Good. Good."

Her father looked back at Milos before gesturing for him to allow them privacy. Once they were alone, her father suddenly got a grim look on his face.

"Y/N .....there has been much tension in these past council meetings."

Y/N guessed there was probably trouble. For the past month, her father refused to let any word slip out from his lips to her, which was unusual since he'd tell her all about them and sometimes even allowed her to join in on some of them so she could gain experience. Was she finally going to know what was going on?

Her father took her hands in his own.

"We have to talk about the future of the kingdom..."

Y/N felt a slight pang of fear as he said that. She always thought that the day they had the conversations she'd be thrilled, but deep down she knew there was something else going on.

"I tried, for years I've tried so hard to convince them to accept you as my heir, to allow you to rule our kingdom, put their faith in you as I have in you.."

Her heart was warmed everytime her father reassured his pride and confidence in trusting an entire kingdom to her.

"But they're not as open to the idea as I am. .... I fear it could turn into a civil war."

They both stood silent and grim. A civil war would be extremely devastating for the country, not to mention that it could last for years, innocent people would be slaughtered and the country could be divided by the end of it. Y/N understood the severity of it.

"So what am I to do?"

Although Y/N was ready to accept whatever her father asked of her, she was not prepared for what he said next.

"Y/N it's time for you to get married."

Her heart dropped at his words. Her hand went behind her body, steadying on the table behind her so she wouldn't fall. She took a deep breath just as she learned to do to calm her panic before a race. Only this time it didn't seem to work.

"Y/N, I promise it won't be that bad."

But that wasn't very reassuring. Y/N knew what it would implicate. She'd have to be behing someone for the rest of her life, be forced to live an idle life where she'd just sit there, look pretty and bear as many children as she could.....

She'd have to give up running.

"No! I can't do that!" She shook her head, unwilling to follow through what was expected of her.

Of course her father expected this reaction from her.

"Y/N please try to understand my position. It must be this way. There is no alternative."

Not wanting to listen to his words anymore, Y/N rushed out of the room, heading straight over to her room. Locking the door behind her, she flopped onto her bed, burying her face into one of her pillows so it could muffle the screams she was releasing.

She just couldn't allow this to happen.

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"You're acting as if you're being sold off into slavery." Milos told her during her philosophy lesson.

Y/N looked up from her book, scowling at the middle aged man in front of her.

"You wouldn't understand cause you're a man."

He frowned slightly at her words but ultimately decided not to take it personal. He understood that this was a rather difficult position for her, something she never really wanted.

"Do you wish to suspend our lesson for today then?" He offered.

"And do what?" She groaned as her fingers massaged the sides of her head.

Not missing an opportunity to poke fun at his pupil, he taunted her.

"I could teach you how to crochet a nice tablecloth."

Y/N picked up her book and held it over her head, making a gesture as if she was going to throw it at him.

"I see you've already forgotten the proper way technique for shot put."

She quickly put the book down.

"It doesn't matter. None of it will matter after all. I'm destined to become a royal baby maker while my future husband rules over the empire my father and his ancestors worked so hard to build." Y/N couldn't help but lament over her situation.

"Cheer up child. There's got to be some good thing in this whole business. And if there isn't, well then....make something good out of it."

She shook her head.

"Not even all the marriage proposals that have come from other royal families seem to appease the advisors or council men. What? Do they not want to sort through papers and decide which candidate is the best option?"

"The problem with so many proposals is that it could cause dissension within the nation. You see, they can't pick one person or the other without offending all the ones that were turned down, which would cause us to loose allies and gain enemies. So of course it'll be a matter of great worry to them." Milos explained as he began rolling up the scrolls on the table.

Y/N's head started to pound against her skull as she thought about all the inconveniences her getting married would bring.

"Then why not just let me remain single? Besides, unlike all the other girls in the kingdom, I was never taught to embroider, sew, dance, play an instrument and much less style myself in the elegant and feminine fashions. It's not like I have anything to offer all these men except my throne, which should rightly belong to only me..."

Although she whispered that last part, Milos heard her very clearly. He too found it unfair that Y/N had to be stripped away from her rightful claim on the throne only due to the fact that she was born with an unfortunate yet lovely pair of breasts. He wished to find a way to comfort her. Having seen her grow up, he had become rather fond of her and almost thought of her as his own child, after all, he was the one mostly responsible for her upbringing and education. It pained him so to watch her grief and felt in utter despair that there was nothing he could do to change the destiny she was expected to lead.

Until an idea popped in his head.

"Y/N. What if you propose to marry on your own terms?"

Lifting her gaze up, she raised an eyebrow.

"Do tell me what'd those terms would be, because honestly, anything I suggest would fall on deaf ears."

Taking small steps until he stood right next to her chair, Milos placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"What about suggesting a race?"

Seeing the mischievous twinkle in his eye, now her curiosity was peaked.

"Think about it Y/N: you have all these marriage proposals lined up and they must decide on only one. Why not give yourself to the man that can outrun you? It would not only appeal to the public for entertainment, and would be a fair way to settle on a match, but it would buy you time as well. After all, how many men in all of Greece could actually outrun our dear Atalanta?"

She felt a surge of encouragement and hope after he not only found a momentary solution, but she enjoyed being called by her athlete name that he had given her long ago. Unable to contain her joy, she sprung up from her chair and embraced the man in front of her.

"Thank you Milos! Thank you thank you thank you." She squealed.

"All right all right child! No need to strangle me for it. Why don't you run along and tell your father? I'm sure he'd be pleased with the idea just as much as you."

Heeding his advice, Y/N swiftly exited the room, a stack of papers falling behind her and onto the floor from how fast she sped past them. Milos could only chuckle as he bent down to pick them up.

"A truly extraordinary girl."

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The crowd were already all in an uproar of enthusiasm at King Iasus' words that echoed throughout the entire stadium.

"My fellow and loyal people. As you all know, my daughter, the precious gem in all of Arcadia, is finally of age and must of course, like all women in our beloved country, be married to an excellent suitor that must be worthy of her."

Resisting the urge to slump back in the chair, Y/N straightened her posture and kept her hands folded on her lap as she tried to calm her nerves. It wasn't the first time she had accompanied her father to admonish the people, but it was the first time she felt uncomfortable with her attire. All her life she had either stuck to the short athletes tunics she owned, or if her father absolutely insisted on her wearing something below her knees, she'd just wear a loose and plain beige or brown tunic. Now she was wearing an emerald green dress with golden lining on the hems, a similar colored sash was draped across her chest that was pinned to the butterfly style sleeves with large gold pins that had jade crystals adorned on the edges. Her female attendants had spent the majority of the morning crimping her hair into loose curls that were then styled in an elegant half updo, secured with a flower shaped pins that were sticking into her head in the most uncomfortable way. She felt so out of place and in her head she could already imagine all the people that were mocking or laughing at her appearance. She hardly focused on the words her father was saying until he reached the part that really interested her.

"After much discussion, we have concluded that the best way to decided is by means of a race."

A collective gasp resonated through the Colosseum, many heads turning to the one next to them, no doubt asking if they heard correctly.

"Yes it is true. Princess Atalanta, and my kingdom, will be given to the man that can outrun her in a race. Not only is this a perfect way to be fair, but it would provide much enthusiasm and joy for my dear subjects."

An applause that started small soon turned into a thunderous roar of hands clapping in approval for their king's speech. Y/N was beaming, she couldn't contain the smile on her face. It seemed as though everything was playing out perfectly for her. Once it was seen that no man could outrun her, they'd have no choice but to name her their rightful heir.

"And........" Her father paused for a dramatic effect.

"I'm happy to let you know that the first race will actually be held in one month's time."

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at that. So soon? No one had told her about that part. The crowd was already hooked, waiting to hear more details on the matter.

"Our first competitor has actually presented himself already and it is none other than our prized champion, Leon of Mantinea!"

The applause and cheers of the crowd suddenly went silent in Y/N's ears. All she could hear now was her labored breathing and the thumping of her heart. She felt it difficult to breathe, as if she had suddenly sprinted out running without properly preparing and her body was now desperately begging for air. Her head began spinning, her vision becoming blurry as she could no longer distinguish any but one face in the entire crowd...

Leon, who was actually looking straight at her with a triumphant smirk that nearly had her doubling over, threatening to make her vomit her breakfast that she had a couple hours ago. For the first time in her life, she felt a tremendous fear that she had not felt anytime else.

As soon as the ceremony was over, she was dashing out of the stadium, nearly tripping on the long train of her damned dress. It clung so tightly on her waist and hips that no matter how hard she tried, it can nearly impossible to run in it.

"Don't you look lovely for once."

She recognized that tone of mockery before even turning to see the face it belonged to. She just tried so keep walking, not wanting to have Leon stare down at her when she was in such an agitated state, unfortunately for her, within seconds he was already in front of her, blocking her path of escape.

"Move aside Leon." She ordered in a harsh tone, but it did nothing to deter him.

"Are you asking me as the princess or as a runner?" He sneered at her.

"I'm not in the mood to hear any bullshit that'll come out of your mouth."

She tried pushing past him, but he grabbed her arm, forcing her to stay put as he looked deep in her eyes.

"Get used to the idea that you'll be hearing my sweet voice every day after our race. When you wake up next to me and when you lie down next to me..."

He couldn't help himself as his eyes raked her body up and down, making Y/N cringe at the filthy thoughts that were swirling inside his evil little mind.

"You can't outrun your destiny Atalanta, and you most certainly can't outrun me. So in the end, you're going to become my bride...."

She let out a soft grunt when he pulled her closer against him, their chests practically touching as his breath hovered above her lips.

"And I'm going to become the next king."

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"You're pushing yourself too hard Atalanta, slow down."

Milos words fell on dear ears as Y/N only picked up her speed, pushing forward until she was a few meters away from the finish line, but her legs went limp from exhaustion at having ran nonstop for the past 2 hours. Y/N squatted down, hands clutching her chest as she tried to regain her breathing. Milos shook his head at her state. Walking up to her with a jug of water, he gently poured some of the cold water onto her back and head.

Can't...slow down....must...win-" Y/N coughed slightly, unable to form any more words.

"You're pushing yourself too much and with all this stress you're enduring, it'll only serve to weigh you down even further at the actual race."

Helping to her to her feet, he extended the jug out to her so that she won't get dehydrated from lack of water. Hastily, Y/N gulped the water down, some of it trickling down her chin and neck. Against her will, she allowed Milos to guide her to a nearby stone bench for her to sit on. She looked at the ground, not wanting to say anything. Milos was the first one to speak up.

"Forgive me for asking this, but have you ever actually beaten Leon in a match?"

Y/N thought long and hard before answering.

"Once...almost."

He shook his head.

"Almost will make you a bride. That's the reality you must accept."

"I don't want to talk about reality or accepting it. I just need to practice harder. I only have a month to train."

She got up, ready to start running her laps again, but Milos stopped her.

"Y/N....the month for training wasn't for Leon...it was for you and it wasn't so you could run..."

When he paused longer than she liked, she gestured for him to speak up.

"It's to train you to become a wife. Learn to behave as a women and learn all the proper things a lady must learn."

No sooner he finished his sentence, she turned, already sauntering off into the field, quickly gaining momentum as she began running away, back to the flower fields she so often visited and ran off to.

"Y/N! Be reasonable! You cannot run from this forever!"

But that was exactly what she was planning to do, even if it costed her everything.

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On the morning of the race, she was astonished by the amount of people that had come to watch. People pushed against the barriers intended to keep them off the track, wanting to get a better look at the runners. Milos shook his head at how ferocious the people could get.

"All they ever care about is a good spectacle..no matter how tragic it can end."

Y/N turned her face at his words.

"Thank you for reminding me that you have no faith in me."

Milos was about to speak up and say that he didn't mean it for her, but remembering that he was forbidden from telling her anything, he just kept quiet and silently prayed it would all be over soon. When Leon finally showed up, everyone began cheering, already convinced that he would end up winning and becoming their new king. None of them noticed that he had lost a bit of muscle, his face looked somewhat thinner than usual and it seemed he and his friends had done an early celebration the night before which could explain why he wobbled at times.

Y/N most definitely didn't notice, her nerves shooting up and down as she tried to mentally brace herself for the race that would ultimately decide her future. Thankfully, her trusted mentor escorted her to the starting line, patting her shoulders occasionally.

"Remember all that I've taught you. Stand up straight and don't look scared. Don't let them see your fear. Walk with dignity, even if you're trembling on the inside."

After muttering a small hymn, Milos finally retreated back to watch and monitor the race. Leon took his place next to her, wearing that daily smirk he always had. As she crouched at the start, Y/N closed her eyes and did the first thing she was taught: drown out all distractions, and only look ahead of you. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of the sun baked dust underneath her feet. She waited for the horn to signal the start. Once it blared all over, she immediately opened her eyes and sprinted forward. Her start was rather well, but her opponents was even better as he sprinted with full speed ahead of her. Y/N was tempted to increase her speed, but then Milos words came into her head:

"Don't waste all your energy at the start. Save it for the end. Let your opponent tire themselves out first, then you can use that reserved energy to quickly bypass them and defeat them."

Y/N decided to follow through on that, essentially since they had to run 3 laps around the track. She watched as Leon quickly made it to the turning post, his eyes mocking her when he went past her. Y/N had an advantage at the post, due to the fact she was lighter, she could easily reverse in direction and pick up seconds into her time. Soon enough, the gap between them both narrowed, and the crowd was now adamantly watching to see what the outcome would be. Noticing that her rival seemed to be slowing down after starting the second lap, Y/N viewed it as an opportunity and began to slowly increase her speed, holding back the urge to go at her full potential. Almost by the end of the second lap, she was already running next to Leon, who upon seeing her, had a panicked look on his face. When they both rounded the final post, Y/N swiftly got ahead of him.

Now the crowd became extremely quiet, not knowing exactly how this race was going to end. Sensing that he needed to do something, Leon sped past Y/N, although his steps were somewhat wobbly. Y/N decided this was it, pushing past her comfort zone and tired state, she ran even faster, somehow not feeling any pain. Instead her body seemed to move by itself, adjusting and keeping its balance.

She passed Leon, and the crowd let out a gasp. He tried to push even further, but found he had no energy left. His breaths came in pained groans as he lost his footing and stumbled forward onto the track, unconsciously helping propell Y/N across the finish line.

As Y/N panted, she realized she had won. Although she wanted to smile, she could feel that something was off about her victory, especially given the fact that the crowd was not cheering and instead had looks of pain and anguish in their countenances. And even more puzzling was the fact that Milos didn't come to support her, as it was customary for the trainers to do for the winners. No one approached her. Instead two guards came over, but not to her, instead they helped Leon to his feet. His face looked disdained and his eyes now looked lifeless as he stared at the ground in shame.

Her father came forward in the royal box, a serious look on his face.

"What's going on?" She asked Milos when he finally came up to her, his arms placing themselves around her, not in a comforting or congratulating way, but instead, it felt as if he was trying to confine her, keep her from moving or running.

"You all who have gathered here know very well the conditions that were made for the race. It was a race to marriage..."

Milos tightened his grip on Y/N, serving to worry her even more.

"Or to death."

When she heard those words, she whipped her head to Milos.

"Wait! What does he mean-"

She had no time to ask as she witnessed in horror as one of the guards held Leon in place while the other drew his sword out.

"No! No!"

Y/N struggled to get free from her trainer's arms, but he held onto her that she had no opportunity to move.

She watched helplessly as Leon was slain right before her eyes, his blood pouring out into the sand. ...

❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ────── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖

Y/N stormed into her room, Milos trailing right behind her.

"Y/N-"

"Why didn't you tell me?!" She accused him.

He sighed.

"I was forbidden from letting you know about that. Your father knew you would have never raced had you known about the death penalty."

"Of course I wouldn't! I hated Leon but I never wished for him to die! Why would my father make up that condition?" Her arms flailed all over the air in frustration.

"Leon himself suggested it..."

Y/N couldn't believe his words.

"No...why would-"

"Think of his upbringing Y/N. He was the prized champion runner in all Arcadia. It was a matter of pride. How could he have lived with the fact he was beaten in a race by a girl? He would have much rather died than live with that shame."

Recalling what he once said to her, Y/N slumped into her chair, elbows resting on her knees as her hands supported her head.

"Leon....why would you do that...stupid stupid boy.."

Wanting to comfort her, but knowing she'd reject his touch, Milos decided to leave her alone.

"Just so you know, there's already 3 more competitors lined up to race against you. The conditions still apply to them."

"I won't do it. I refuse to race against them and send them to their deaths." Y/N adamantly refused, she would not be deterred from her resolution.

"You have no say in this matter anymore Y/N....

You're a woman and you do not dictate conditions." He said before shutting the door behind him.

Y/N felt the rage coursing through her veins. She hated being reminded that she had no power, that she'd forever be chained to obey as all men ordered her to. She was angry at everyone. Her father, Milos, Leon, the advisors, the people who watched a man get murdered just for entertainment, it was all sickening and most of all, she was angry at herself. Angry that she could do nothing about it, and even more furious at the suitors who still decided to run against her, knowing fully well there'd be no chance of outrunning her.

She stood up and walked over to her mirror. This time, she did not repeat her usual chant. Instead, she said a different thing.

"If I must keep running away from my destiny, so be it...."

❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ────── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖

In less than 2 months, Y/N had raced against 9 other competitors, all slain at the end of each race. She no longer shrinked back in fear, she had gotten so used to seeing them die before her eyes, she felt as if she was just like their lifeless bodies on the ground. The crowds seemed to enjoy it though. It had seemed to be now a killing fest rather than a race, and she was tired of it.

That's why she had now retreated into the top of one of the hills a few miles away from the palace. She sat by an apple tree, looking out at the sun that was starting to set. Hues of red, orange, yellow and pinks adorned the sky and at the very top, she could already see a few stars peeking out, ready to shine brightly once night set in. No sound was heard except the occasional chirping of a bird passing by or her deep sorrow filled sighs that would often escape her lips. She began to see no point in this. No one even called her by her birth name anymore, instead, everyone could only talk about the female runner Atalanta, even forgetting that she was the princess and these races were not for amusement or placing useless bets. It was to decide her future, which up to now seemed like it'd be filled with severed heads and split throats. Resting her head on her arms, she closed her eyes.

"It's too beautiful a day to be looking so sad don't you think?"

She jumped to her feet, startled by the voice that spoke behind her. Looking up, she felt astonished when she saw the most beautiful and tall man she had ever seen in her life. His skin was fair and perfectly unblemished, his hair was as dark as a raven's feathers, his eyes very large and dazzled as if they were a pair of rare and exotic gems, but the most captivating feature on him had to be his smile that seemed to radiate warmth and sunshine. He definitely wasn't from there or any other province nearby. He had a beauty that screamed he was from the northern countries.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. Forgive me, it was definitely not my intention." He bowed in an apologetic form, arm crossed over his stomach as he did so.

"I'm Yunho by the way, Yunho from Thessaly."

She debated whether to reveal her identity or not, especially to a stranger from the North.

"I'm Y/N." She opted for the safer choice, refusing to utter the name that would no doubt reveal who she really was.

Tilting his head to the side, he gave her a curious gaze.

"Y/N.....? Pretty name."

She blushed slightly at his words. Noticing the small pouch he was carrying, she pointed at it.

"Are you traveling here on foot?"

He seemed a little caught off guard but nonetheless didn't loose his enthusiasm.

"Kinda, not really. I left my horse back at the inn and decided to go explore these beautiful fields and mountains....."

He looked back at her, unable to suppress a smile.

"And the scenery definitely wasn't disappointing."

Y/N smoothed out the fabric of her tunic as she cleared her throat.

"Do tell me, what brings someone like you all the way to Arcadia?"

Yunho's friendly smile turned into a more mischievous one.

"Well I'm actually here on a little personal mission. You see, there's been a rumor that reached Thessaly saying how there's a young princess here who has offered herself and her kingdom in marriage to the man who can outrun her in a race. If he loses, he must be put to death. Supposedly her name is Atalanta."

Her heart stopped for a moment. She dreaded the topic and she was even more scared to think that this handsome man might actually ask to race against her.

"I came to find out if the rumor is true. Have you heard of her?"

Y/N nodded her head, which seemed to delight Yunho.

"Then is it all true?!"

"No! It's not true! She didn't offer herself and none of it was her idea. The first challenger was the one who proposed the idea of death be given to the loser.."

Yunho stayed very quiet as he heard her speak, studying her profile intently. Feeling somewhat embarrased that she spoke too much, she decided to fix it.

"I mean....everyone around here knows that."

Yunho nodded his head, but he still kept his gaze on the woman in front of him. His eyes looked her up and down in an unusual way, as if trying to figure something out.

"With such high stakes it really makes one wonder why the runners keep trying for her? If no one has even come close to beating her, why risk their lives for it?"

It was the exact question she had asked herself a million times yet could find no reasonable explanation. All she could do was look at the green grass underneath her, her foot swaying around occasionally. She failed to notice the fond and loving look Yunho was giving her.

"She must be very beautiful."

Her head jerked up at his words, a satisfied smile on his face.

"I see no other reason. She must be extremely beautiful if athletes from all over are risking their lives to just to have her hand in marriage."

"Or maybe they don't believe they'll lose to a girl... it's foolish really."

Yunho frowned slightly before nodding.

"I agree with you on that part. It's foolish indeed to risk their lives over a race or a woman."

Picking out a leaf from one of the branches above him, he studied it carefully before letting it fall to the ground.

"Life is too precious to be gambled away like that. The gods gave us the gift of life for a reason. It's truly ungrateful to repay their kindness in such a way."

Y/N felt a wave of relief when he said that. At least she wouldn't have to worry about racing him at all.

"Either way, I'd like to observe just one race while I'm here. I'm very curious to see just how fast she is..."

He paused as he scanned Y/N's face, which was now more illuminated by the ray of light peeking out from the mountain behind them.

"And to see what is it about her that make men so crazy."

Feeling a breeze pass by her, she remembered it was getting late and she had to be back in the palace before it got dark.

"I have to go home now. I hope you enjoy your stay here."

She quickly brushed past him and Yunho couldn't help but watch her as she left.

"Goodbye Y/N!" He waved at her, which she happily returned before walking away.

Y/N waited until she felt he was no longer watching her to finally let loose and run straight back to the palace, but he did notice. He also didn't fail to notice that not only was she wearing a rather short tunic that showed off her rather toned and muscly legs, but the tunic was made of the most fine linen there was available. Chuckling to himself he began his own walk down the hill.

"I think I know now..."

❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ────── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖

Walking into the library where she was scheduled for her morning studies, she was puzzled as to why Milos wasn't there but instead left a note telling her she was to go see her father in the track field. She suddenly felt uneasy.

'What if he decided to cancel the races?' 'What if he had to tell her some bad news?'

Her mind kept thinking about all the endless scenarios that could possibly happen, but the reality was something she definitely did not expect. She saw her father talking to someone, she couldn't quite make out who it was since the person had his back to her. When her father caught glimpse of her, his face shone brightly.

"Ahhh there is my treasured jewel! Atalanta, sweetheart. Come meet Prince Hippomenes. He's visiting us from Thessaly."

When he finally turned around, she was shocked to see none other than Yunho in front of her, still donning that cursed smile on his face. He didn't seem surprised at all when he saw her, his look was more on the amusing side.

"Pleasure to meet the most talked about princess in the land."

She had no time to react and frankly, did not know how to react when he suddenly took a hold of her hand and placed a kiss on the top of it, his eyes looking straight at her as he did, even sending a subtle wink to her that made her legs feel weak as if she had just run a 10 kilometer race.

"I was hoping to meet you. My father, mother, siblings and frankly, all Thessaly have been wanting to know about you, so I offered myself to come meet you."

Y/N still made no move to talk, frankly she was kind of upset at him. Noticing the tense air, her father knew he needed to suggest something quick.

"My dear, why not give our guest a tour of the track and tell him all about the races you've run? I have to go talk to the council about some commercial business that can't be held off much longer."

Kissing his daughter's cheek, he excused himself and left the two familiar strangers alone. She crossed her arms, now fully glaring at the male in front of her, who was confused at her cold treatment.

"What?" He asked .

"You lied to me!"

He held up a hand at her accusation.

"Actually, I did not lie. My birth name is indeed Yunho, but obviously my royal name is a different story. And I did come here to learn about the great fame you made for yourself."

Unable to help himself, he suddenly leaned in, his tall figure looming over hers as he smirked at her.

"And truthfully, do you have any room to talk? You concealed your identity just as I did."

She wanted to say something back but knew it was pointless since he was right.

"When did you find out?" She had to know.

"Last night. You're not very good at hiding things you know."

She frowned and was considering walking away, but Yunho seemed determined not to let her go just yet.

"So.....this is where your story unfolds.."

He looked around at the track, observing every square inch of it, his feet kicking softly at the dirt underneath him.

"Yeah....."

He noticed the sad look as she gazed at a specific corner in the field, her eyes seeming to be somewhere else instead of there. Yunho could only guess what she was thinking of. Not caring if it was improper, he placed his hands on the top of her shoulders, lightly rubbing the sides of them.

"You know....it's not your fault. You have your race to run.....and they had theirs."

He fought back the urge to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her against his chest. Y/N felt slightly comforted by his words, but nonetheless couldn't shake the guilt off.

"Maybe it would have been better if I was born a male. I often wish I had been born one."

Yunho shifted awkwardly behind her, but kept a small smile as he whispered in her ear.

"Then I guess I have much to be thankful for. I happen to like your present form very much."

He cleared his throat when she whipped around to face him, suddenly feeling embarrased for his bold words, while she, never been accustomed to men talking complimenting her or talking to her like that.

"Please excuse me.."

Just like the first time they met, she quickly left him standing there, confused and disappointed that their meeting was short.

"I'll see you at the race!"

Either she didn't hear him or purposefully ignored him, but Yunho didn't have it in him to give up.

"I'll be cheering for you, Y/N!"

Briefly, she halted her steps, her head tilting slightly before resuming to walk away once more.

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The runners ran neck to neck. Y/N felt as if her lungs were being ripped out of her body. This guy proved more of a challenge than Leon ever did, even before the infamous race to death. They were only a few meters away from the finishing line. She felt herself growing weak, her pulse ringing in her ears, her brain thumping against her skull. She tried not to look at her opponent, knowing it'd only serve to distract her and make her loose focus.

Yunho sat next to the other nobles in the very front row, watching with excitement and anxiousness as it almost got to the end.

"Come on Y/N....you can do it."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her opponent was suddenly going ahead of her by a few inches. Soon enough, his foot would cross the finish line first.

No!!!

Not knowing from where the last burst of energy came from, Y/N pushed her body forward, tumbling forward, but eventually passing through the finishing line first. She fell onto the floor, her elbow and knee scraping against the sandy dirt, but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her chest. She heard the crowd roar in applause and cheer for her once again, but she could not join in on the victory. She felt Milos help her to her feet, but once she stood up, her head began spinning, her legs wobbling as if she was a newborn calf learning to walk.

"Y/N? Are you ok?"

She heard her trainer ask, but she couldn't speak, her breathing raspy and hoarse.

"I'm-I'm-"

The crowd gasped and several women began screaming when their beloved runner fell once again to the ground, unconscious and not moving. Not knowing what came over him, Yunho jumped up from his seat and ran over to her, not caring about anyone else.

"Y/N? Y/N?"

He placed a hand across her face, feeling the temperature on her forehead before taking her wrist to check her pulse. Knowing he couldn't waste any time, he effortlessly picked her up and looked over at Milos.

"Have her room ready, bring a basin of cold water in it and make sure all the windows are open."

They wasted no time in heeding his directions. Carefully, he placed Y/N on her soft bed. Grabbing a towel, he soaked it in the icy water before placing it on her forehead. He checked her pulse every now and then, satisfied when it seemed to be returning to a normal pace and freaking out when it suddenly became too low.

"Come on Y/N...don't give up on me. You've fought this long in your life....don't stop now."

Yunho refused any help, not caring that he spent hours by her side, making sure her body stayed cool. He wiped the sweat off his own forehead, exhausted but not wanting to leave her side until he was sure she'd be all right. It was late into the night when his eyes began to close slowly, feeling drowsy after not eating and being agitated for so long. He didn't know exactly when he his head fell on her lap, sleep overtaking him, one hand clutching desperately onto hers.

That's how Y/N awoke to find him. She felt so bad seeing him bent over in such an uncomfortable position, his hair tussled out and his hand still holding onto hers. She felt her heart flutter at the sight. Reaching her hand out, she moved a few of the front part of his hair away, admiring his beautiful features. Feeling her stir, Yunho opened his eyes to find her looking at him, the sunlight making her features look ethereal and almost heavenly.

"Gods in Olympus have mercy on me..." He mumbled softly as he sat up, stretching his arms out and yawning softly.

"What happened?" Y/N asked.

"It seems you got struck by heat stroke which combined with over exerting yourself, you fainted for quiet some time."

Y/N fell back onto her pillow, her hands covering her face.

"How embarrassing! And the entire city saw!"

"Frightening is the word I'd use. They were all worried about you."

Standing up, he sat on the space of the bed next to her and removed her hands away from her face, his eyes boring deep in her soul.

"And frankly I was terrified about anything happening to you..."

Y/N widened her eyes when she saw his face come close to hers, his eyes fixated on her lips. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the side before he could come any closer. Sighing defeatedly, Yunho let go of her hands and pulled away.

"Please take care of yourself. I don't want anything to happen to you."

❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ────── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖

Y/N stormed out of her room, not caring about the the fact she still had to stay in bed, muting the worried voices of her female servants. She asked around until she finally found out where Yunho was and quickly walked as fast as she could to the main courtyard. It took her quite a while to find him, but eventually she saw his tall silhouette admiring some of the sunflowers that were growing in the palace gardens. Fuming, she walked over to him, her feet stomping so hard on the ground that he heard her coming before he saw her. He seemed delighted to see her.

"Afternoon Y/N! Lovely to see you-"

"You can't race against me!" She shouted at him.

He stepped back at her harsh tone, but didn't seem surprised at her reaction.

"So I take it they told you about that." An apologetic smile formed across his lips.

"You can't do this. Take it back!" She demanded, but Yunho wasn't going to budge.

"I can't and I won't Y/N. I have to do this."

"But why?! You yourself said the men who risked their lived for a race were foolish and stupid! So why are you now doing the exact same thing?!"

Yunho ran a hand through his hair, letting out a puff of air as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"You're right about that and I truly still believe they were foolish for risking their lives for a race or even a kingdom..."

He paused as he looked at her before finishing his last sentence.

"But then after meeting you, seeing you.....I understand why they'd be willing to risk their lives just to have you."

Y/N felt a lump get stuck in her throat. She was afraid. Afraid of the way he was looking at her with such admiration and devotion, afraid of actually having to race him, and most of all, afraid of her own growing feelings for him.

"You know you still have a chance. Get out of this while you still can. Once I step foot on that track, I don't have control over myself and I won't let you win." She admonished him.

He merely shrugged.

"Don't go easy on me. Use your full speed."

"Oh my god! Are you even listening to yourself?! You have absolutely no chance! All the men I've raced were trained athletes, the best in all the land! You- you're a prince! You grew up with books, studying philosophy and prepared to rule a country. You've never stepped foot on a track before coming here, you.....you'll die."

She spoke those last words softly, unable to say them above a whisper. Tears began brimming at her eyes, her arms wrapping around her chest in an effort to calm herself and not cry in front of Yunho. Still he said nothing, instead opting to come closer to her, not bothering to stop himself as his large hands wrapped themselves around her waist.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take. Don't you get it? I.... I can't get you out of my mind. I have to have you. You're unlike any other woman I've met. You're fearless, strong, independent, and you're a lot smarter than most princesses I've met, even if you are terrible at stitching a flower onto a cloth."

They both let out a tiny chuckle at that.

"Blame my father for prioritizing my education over pricking my fingers on silly needles."

Yunho moved his hands from her waist to cup her cheeks.

"Point is.....I'm attracted to you ok? I want you all to myself as crazy as it sounds...

He bit his lips before uttering the next thing.

"I love you.."

She looked up at him when he said that confession.

"And honestly? I think you feel the same way..."

Before she had time to respond or react, his lips enveloped themselves around hers, capturing and covering her entire mouth in such a passionate and desperate kiss. Against her will, Y/N kissed him back, hands going to the back of his head as the played with the soft black locks he had. She forgot about everything in that sweet moment, the races, the deaths, and almost forgot about a long forgotten fear.

Almost.

Until she suddenly pulled back away from him as if he was death itself.

"No! I can't!"

Seeing her try to run away as usual, Yunho wasn't having it. He grabbed her hand, refusing to let go.

M"Why are you running away from me?! Are you afraid of me? Are you afraid of being married off? Having to give up the freedom that has been granted upon you since you were born?"

Y/N didn't respond. He had hit on the point somewhat. Not all of it, but definitely a reason why she didn't want to marry and kept pushing herself so no one would ever beat her in a race.

"I want you to know....I would never be that kind of husband. I wouldn't force you to stay home, knit, and be bored to death walking in gardens or just bear me children."

Letting go of her hand, he pulled her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her waist as his lips began whispering in her ear.

"I would never dream of taking away your freedom. I'll allow you to keep running as free as you are now. Anything you want to do, I'll allow you to. I just ask you to love me in return. You don't have to be afraid of me."

She couldn't contain her sobs at this point. Lowering her head so he couldn't see her grief stricken face, she finally poured out her feelings.

"It's not just that..... when I was a mere girl, an Oracle once came to reveal prophecies to some members of my family. Being curious, I offered them a gold brooch I had in exchange for telling me something about my future..."

Her eyes closed as she remembered the words the old woman said to her.

"The day you marry, that day will be the end of you."

She sobbed even harder now. Yunho turned her around and embraced her, allowing her to cry in his chest, not caring if it soaked his clothes or not.

"Y/N....perhaps the prophecy meant the end of you in a different way. Perhaps it wouldn't be the end of Y/N.....but the end of Atalanta. Think about it, the day someone beats you, you have to marry him, Atalanta will be no more, instead you'll be Y/N. Just Y/N. Also...... one loses themselves when you truly love someone. The end of something, also creates a new beginning."

Although his words comforted her, she could no longer hear him. The longer she stayed, the more attached she grew to him and the more it'd hurt her to see him lose against her.

"I'm sorry....I can't-"

Yunho let go of her hands and didn't stop her as she ran back towards the palace. He didn't even call out to her and he hoped she wouldn't turn around and see the sad and heartbroken look he had on his countenance for the first time in his life.

❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ────── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖

Y/N walked out into the field wearing a heavy grim on her face, the cheers of the crowd no longer having an effect on her. She felt like she was walking out to her own execution. If Yunho died because of her, she could never live with herself.

"Cheer up child. Perhaps he won't have to die after all." Milos hinted at her.

"He's not an athlete. Even if I use half my speed, he'd still lose."

Milos nodded at her.

"That may be true.........and yet....perhaps he could win who knows? He was gone all night yesterday sacrificing to the gods."

"All the other athletes sacrificed to different gods. To Zeus, to Athena, to Apollo, and look how they all ended up." She retorted.

"Perhaps they were all sacrificing to the wrong one. I can tell you this: Yunho sacrificed to one goddess none of them thought about......"

Y/N looked at him and waited for him to finish.

"Aphrodite."

Her stomach lurched, threatening her to become sick again.

When Yunho finally stepped out, the crowd, more specifically the women, began cheering loudly for him. During his short stay there, he had already attracted a pretty good number of admirers and fans. Some had even made beautiful embroidered banners with his name stitched across it. When he stepped up to her, he had that usual smile of his that always melted her heart.

"Good luck to you Y/N." He took her hand, instead of shaking it though, he placed a kiss on it, causing several 'awws' to emit from the crowd.

Y/N retreated her hand and cleared her throat.

"No offense but your tunic is not very well suited for a race. It'll cause you to loose speed."

Pointing at the odd pouch strapped around his waist, she looked at him for an explanation.

"Good luck charms." He patted the pouch.

Y/N was about to say something, but he stopped her.

"Y/N this might be the last time I ever talk to you let alone see you in this lifetime...so please...don't worry and don't say unkind words.... and let me say just in case that I love you."

He waited for her to say something but she said nothing. They just followed the announcers instructions to get in position.

When the horn blasted, Y/N took off running at the usual speed speed she tended to use at the beginning of a race. Unsurprisingly, Yunho was a long way away from her, a large gap in between them. Y/N rounded the first turn and doubled back and saw him as she was coming back, irked that he seemed to be running as if he had all the time in the world. When she got close to him, he took out something from his pouch and held it in front of her eyes so she could see before tossing it behind her. Unable to comprehend her own actions, she whirled around to fetch the shiny object he had thrown. It had fallen on the dry grass at the edge of the track and picking it up, she noticed it was a golden apple, perfectly smooth, with a stem and leaves that had beautiful and intricate engravings on them. She was so immersed in the apple that she forgot about the race until she heard the crowd cheer. Looking over, Yunho had rounded the first turn and was now coming towards her. She felt disoriented for a second, but eventually got back on the track, running with the apple in her hand, although its weight served only to slow her down.

Just as she was rounding the second turn, she saw another golden apple being rolled in front of her, this time rolling off the track at a greater distance. Once again, she went in pursuit of it, forgetting about the race as she chased after it. This time it was slighty bigger and heavier than the last one, but she was determined to keep it. She stood there, admiring its beauty until the cheers of the crowd snapped her back to reality. She was shocked when she saw Yunho round the last turn.

"Oh no!"

With the apples in her hand, she sprinted forward with all her ability, catching up to him in mere seconds. She was right behind him about to pass him until he looked back at her, flashing a third and even larger golden apple in his hand. Raising it up, he let the sun shine on it before tossing it behind him with incredible force. Y/N backtracked and chased after it. She didn't know what it was that made her go for it, but she just had to have it. She struggled to cram them all into her hands, but she refused to let go of them. She gasped when she saw that Yunho was a few feet away from the finish line. She sped up, apples in hand, sure that even with the added weight and time lost she could beat him, no one was faster than her and no one had beaten her.

She was so close, a hands length away from him when the crowd erupted in thunderous applause and screaming. Y/N looked around in shock as Milos and many of the other nobles began surrounding Yunho, congratulating his victory.

"I.....lost?"

Y/N couldn't comprehend it. How on earth did she just lose? And to someone like Yunho? She was so immersed in her thoughts that she didn't notice he had come up behind her until he swiftly turned her around and kissed her in front of everyone. She was so stunned that she had no time to push him off. When he pulled back, he had the brightest and happiest grin plastered all over.

"My beautiful bride." He cooed at her.

She had so many questions for him but unfortunately she couldn't ask him as her father quickly made his way to them, happily announcing Yunho victorious and declaring that preparations for their wedding would begin immediately. The crowd began to celebrate, happy at the thought of the new royal couple forming and praising all the gods in Olympus.

❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ────── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖

It wasn't until later that night that Y/N finally had time to go see Yunho, who was wandering around in the orchards. She came to him, the golden apples on a small pouch.

"I believe these belong to you."

Y/N slumped them back in his hands, Yunho letting out a soft "oof!" at their weight.

"Actually...they're not mine."

"Either way.....you cheated." She accused him.

"It can't be counted as cheating if it complies with a God's wishes." He counteracted.

"What?" Y/N raised an eyebrow.

Smirking, Yunho picked up one of the golden apples.

"These....are golden apples from Aphrodite's golden tree that grows in her garden."

Y/N widened her eyes at his revelation, making Yunho snicker at her reaction.

"She gave them to me after I sacrificed to her last night. She gave me instructions on how to use them so I'd win the race. No one, not even the prized runner in all Arcadia, could resist their magic."

Her mouth dropped wide open at his explanation.

"You see? They were all sacrificing to the wrong deities." He poked her nose.

Y/N huffed and crossed her arms as she mumbled.

"I still say you cheated."

Yunho laughed slightly at her embittered state.

"Come now my darling Y/N. Don't be so cross with me. Can you really blame me for risking my life just to be able to spend the rest of my life next to you?"

He tilted her chin up, looking into her eyes that captivated and bewitched him more and more as he stared at them.

"Aren't you.....aren't you at least happy to marry me?"

Y/N sighed softly.

"The conditions of the race were clear."

Yunho's hand dropped to his side in clear disappointment of her answer.

"I don't want you to marry me because you have to. I want you to marry me because you love me like I love you. I offer you my heart, soul, all of me and vow to love you with my last breath for as long as we remain on this earth."

Y/N clasped a hand over her mouth when Yunho got on his knees and looked at her with such adoration and love.

"Forget the race and forget about the conditions. That doesn't matter anymore. If you don't want it, I'll happily release you from that condition......but at least allow me to try it my way."

Reaching for one of her hands, he grasped it tightly with both of his hands which were trembling slightly.

"I love you Y/N. I love you with every drop of blood that runs in my body. And nothing would make me happier than to have you accept my love and accept to my wife from this night forward."

He gulped as soon as he finished the words, waiting impatiently for her answer, tears building up inside him as he feared her rejection. Y/N was already crying, overwhelmed by her emotions and the intensity of the feelings she had for him. But then she thought about living the rest of her life without him and that was even more terrifying to her.

"Yunho......I love you..."

His gaze that was on the floor suddenly shot up when he finally heard her say those words. Through teary eyes, she smiled at him.

"And I would love for nothing more than to become your wife."

Before her sentence was finished, he was already on his feet, picking her up and spinning her around as his lips began peppering kisses all over her face. Tears of happiness streamed down his face as he thanked Aphrodite and all the other gods for blessing him in such a way.

"You see? It was worth it in the end. I don't regret risking my life......and I'd happily do it again if it means I win you..."

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[soranihimawari]

Bella Donnas & Love

This is the final installment of the Hanahaki Disease AU featuring the Seijoh Four. This is a Mattsukawa Issei x Yin (YN/Reader) story.

Word Count: 4.3 K

Warnings: mentions of depression, suicidal attempts, mentions of burn out, and intrusive thoughts

Recommended Audience: 17+ (minors recommended to not read because of the warnings attached)

Pairing: Mattsukawa Issei x reader// MIA->MIF [Mattsukawa Issei angst to Mattsukawa Isei fluff]

Mattsukawa Issei is a simple man. He sees the world in copious amounts of black, white, and gray; it isn’t because he is colorblind either. It is because he knows his worth. Truthfully, his parental figures were always a bit worried about their son especially given the profession he has chosen to pursue. Being in the business of burning and or burying the dead, Mattsukawa Issei is a fan of the loneliest times in a lifetime: they say when we are brought into the world, we are alone, and when we pass on, we too exit the world alone. There is nothing wrong with finding a job in the business of death, but even angels have demons. And for Mattsukawa, you are an exquisite example of the dichotomy between his dark side and your eventual akin to the brighter side.

It is a known fact in Japan, the pressure to be perfect or to fit into the mold of society has been a fatal flaw throughout the years. This is the main reason why at exactly two fifty-five in the morning, Mattsukawa Issei notices a young person, hanging out on the edge of the skyscraper across his workplace. There was a late night arrival to the city morgue; he just needed to be there to sign the paperwork to turn over the embalming processes to his mentors. It was the deceased wishes to be buried in the mausoleum in the home town of their forefathers: the mountain side of Nagasaki.

You were having a rough day: you were told you by your employers that you’ve been slacking for too long getting numbers for the statistics presentation coming up with business partners across the South China Sea. Then your grandparent were strictly feeding toxic lies to your parent(s) about how you would never find a suitable partner to marry you. Quite frankly, because you put your career and studies first, you had no issues putting your family in their place. The intrusive thoughts, snide comments about your appearance, was enough for you to glance at the sleeping pills that were prescribed to you to assist in a normal pattern, to invade your subconscious. The events which led you to climb the fire escape up to the rooftop garden in your kitten heels made for a daring flirtation with death. There have been nights the last couple of months where your heart is heavy in your chest, your lungs are intoxicating you with the poisonous belladonna petals.

“What a time to find out I’m going to die a lot sooner than I thought,” you sighed into your palm. Your eyes scour the hazy city in the afterglow; after a tizzy of a day you had, you chose that perhaps this might be a sign of the universe you were better off dead. Either that or your soulmate would be in extreme pain and you didn’t want to disappoint their perception of your love. Then again, you wouldn’t know what love, honest, and kind would feel like even when you’re about to let it all go.

You are devoid of emotion as you bring yourself to your feet. A hand of yours drags across your face. The drop is high enough to entice little to severe damage like broken legs, or severe head trauma, but to be truly free, you wish to be put out of your misery as quickly as possible.

Mattsukawa sees the figure clad in a lighter powder blue and his eyes are wide with fear. The morgue worker and delivery driver had already gone off into the night to complete the rest of the deliveries of bodies to the funeral homes. As soon as he finished locking up and registering the corpses, Mattsukawa was determined to see your hair wind blowing on the rooftops. The blurred vision he sees makes the twenty-seven year old shiver. Even in his line of work, this was the second instance he wanted to save someone. He knew of you: the business woman who was suffering from a similar ailment to him. The belladonna hues from your rebellious highlights enticed him to notice how you seemed a bit off at the coffee house you frequent by the funeral parlour he had been working at.

“Excuse me,” you said, holding on to your mug. Your knuckles were white with tension, so Mattsukawa did something unexpected of himself: he gave you way, but instead of sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant cafe, he sat directly across from you. The crowd was getting to be a bit noisy, but you and him sat there staring off center, hyper fixating on the number of people sign in either direction.

“Why do you smell like belladonna?” You asked. You had a glance meet you with a harsh smile.

“It’s part of my line of work. I use it to bury the dead at the request for all nameless suiciders that wind up on my table,” Mattsukawa explains. The oils from his embalming course was enough to mimic actual belladonna, but has he noticed from her, it wasn’t coming from just his hands: it was coming from her hair. He asked a question about why you seemed so strung up lately and like a fool, you told him everything which was bothering you. If anything, this man was a silent confession box. He seemed like the genuine article, so when you check for the time, you realize it was time to leave and head back to the office to grab the final jump drive for the presentation. Things at work seemed to have gotten better since the next time you’d see your precious Mattsukawa would be in the next life. You never truly disclosed your name to him, so he made a note call you Bella or Donna (whichever you preferred really). His smile is flirtatiously coy and you felt your cheeks grow a bit warm from the moment he told you his name.

For whatever reason, perhaps Mattsukawa was feeling a bit lucky, he asked you to dinner the day before yesterday. He wanted to know you, truth and all, bruised and damaged as you were, the meds your doctor prescribed were starting to cushion the intrusive thoughts. However that changed the moment you give him a nod, he grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the cafe; gently he squeezes your fingers for reassurance.

“You’ll do great Miss. I believe in you,” Mattsukawa whispers in the last part. The cafe begins to echo again, so you couldn’t hear the last part, but you were sure it was an encouraging word. Mattsukawa was the first person in a long while to give you something so few in your battlefield mind would want (or need): hope.

“Goodbye Mattsukawa.”

With that said, you were gone from the cafe and headed back into the office where a different manager made your life hell because their normal assistant was very organized, but the constant comparison was enough to make your head explode.

Presently, you stand on the ledge, glancing down like a superhero vigilante, but just as you were about to take a dive, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around your waist. The hands are interlocked under your empire waist line and if it wasn’t for the fact your hair was probably in a ponytail prior to this predicament, you’re sure your band was lost to gravity and the wind. You thrashed about in your captor’s arms, not realizing this person was about to save you from an awful mistake.

You see, Mattsukawa Issei is a funeral employee; he dresses sharply like an agent of the Grim Reaper. He is suave and debonair; he loves watching the life cycles of the various flower arrangements in his mentors stores go throughout the seasons. His heart and soul is full of vibrancy you have yet to comprehend; Mattsukawa was always a strong individual and you could ask anyone of his friends in school what kind of person he was. So, what made you so different? Sure you were stressed out, anybody could see that, but Mattsukawa picked up on the depressive aura you emanated. Did he really want to sit in front of you that afternoon? Sure; it was mainly because he couldn’t shake this feeling ever since you were ahead of him in line to order that he was supposed to meet you here (even if you were at your lowest post appointments at the business office downtown).

You struggle to let go, but the owner of these hands does not wish to loosen their grip on you; you ask twice kindly to be left alone and the soft ortund tone of the stranger’s voice from the cafe stops you from thrashing about further.

He tumbles back and lands on his arse with you sitting on his lap, pressed against his broad chest. His sleeves from the black oxford shirt he wears is rolled up to his elbows, and his hands still are in an interlocked position. Mattsukawa has seen some pretty fucked up causes of death recently, yet this time, he wanted to save you, not bury you. He wants to see you tomorrow night at dinner in the diner close to his loft; he wants you to understand maybe death isn’t all that grand and if you struggle with your mind everyday, he wishes to someday be of importance to you. You’re in charge of your own autonomous decisions, yet Mattsukawa wants you to give him a chance to prove to you that love, hope, and for the very fortunate, miracles exist (even if you weren’t shown any).

“You’re sick,” he closes his eyes. Apparently, you pick up on the frown in his voice and somehow, you’re sixth sense of empathy decides not to fight his tonality, but rather when you subconsciously agree and call your mental state one of a landmine, he doesn’t make a fuss. It was a short exam and you realize may be life is worth living for a nano-second. You could have an entire relationship with this man from the cafe in a span of two hours, if that. The fates must have had a wicked sense of humor when pairing either of you to the other: one who works with and around death, the other has an affinity to try and cross into the next life every moment things in the sea turn too rough.

You slowly stop trying to fight him the moment you hear his voice toss in the wind. Instead, you move your hands to hover limply on his, leaning back and letting his breathing calm you. The smell of belladonna from your hair oil wafts through the air. “Suicide is not how I want your story to end.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about or-o-or,” you stammer on. “Perhaps I don’t want to be alive anymore because people keep interfering.”

This causes Mattsukawa’s heart to gain a solid crack. You toss your head back and land harshly against his sternum, causing him to grunt and inhale sharply.

It rips seamlessly to his soul. In the past six to eight years since he entered his chosen profession, he has seen corpses from all ages, the youngest being eight who suffered from a myriad of health issues including Hanahaki because the playground friend in their preschool years was going to be theirs when the time properly came. Mattsukawa, the night he was on duty for the wake, anonymously donated the flowers that would have made the child laugh on wishes. Sure, life does have it’s moments when it tests us, yet he couldn’t wrap his head around the burn out business person from earlier this week, who was now in his arms, safe.

Unintentionally landing on his back with you on top of his chest was not how he had pictured becoming a hero. Just for one night, Mattsukawa Issei, the stern and most silent of the volleyball players in high school, was a hero worthy of saving a life.

“Argh,” he groans.

He coughs quietly away from your face when his hands loosen their hold. You chose to not chastise him about not wearing a sweater in the middle of autumn. After all, this man was the only one who would be daft enough to try and stop you. You curl into him, hiding your face in the satin finish of his dress shirt; you promise to buy him a new one as long as you let him hide your eyes and you break down. You’re crying over the smallest inconvenience and on top of feeling like a burden to the man, you consistently apologize by saying it’s no one’s fault especially his when you catch yourself in your darkest moment.

Mattsukawa listens to your request: with one hand, he covers your left side of your face, the right is patting your hair down, reassuring you that he will console you until the sobs stop and the sniffles remain.

“You’re lucky I live and work not too far from here doll,” he whispers into your hair. You’re calming down as you hiccup the last couple of bubbles of air. You nod in understanding the words he was saying, but you still have your eyes closed to shield himself (and keep your pride intact) when he would peer into your bloodshot ones.

“Don’t worry about me tryin’ anything either. You’ve been through enough tonight. Just let me take care of you for the rest, ok?”

“Mmhm,” you agree. He sits up half way and you rise with him, your eyes ever looking westward until you see one of his handkerchiefs from his back pants pocket dangle in your line of sight. You stifle a laugh, utter a thanks, and begin to dry your face. Mattsukawa, when you were done, doesn’t hold your face anymore, even if it pains him to do so. Your free hand decides for both of you: your left reaches for his and you bring the calloused hand, opened palm, to your cheek. Your skin is soft and sticky from the tears, but if anyone were to ask Mattsukawa what it felt like to save a life, he would humbly point you out in a crowd and say ‘Ask ‘em yourself.’

“I lost sight of the things that brought me joy,” you say quietly. You’re breathing in his cologne and it smells like whiskey sours. The scent grounds you, as you recall your therapist giving you stress-relieving tricks such as naming five to ten things your senses pick up on. Your cheeks feel soft like mochi ice against Mattsukawa’s open palm; you see the neon lights hazily glow in the city below you; and finally, you hear his shirt ruffle against the shell of your ear when you finally calm down.

“Everyone does,” Mattsukawa agrees. “Can you do something for me?”

“Mattsukawa-san,” you said his name and he chuckles in surprise. You remembered his name? This was even better than before. He finds himself falling gently in like with you. The love between long lost friends is what keeps him afloat. Unwillingly, you find yourself amusedly smiling at his tanned skin glowing with a soft hues under his eyes. Was this man blushing?

“Call me Issei or Mattsun,” his voice says when his other hand loops around your waist. He buried his head on your right shoulder.

Tonight you learn that even strong and by your standards of “fine men” do in fact cry. You blink a couple more times and he just cries a mixture of tears he has no control over.

“Mattsun,” you say, voice soft like the breeze sending a boat to sail. “I’m sorry about all this.”

“You could have said you weren’t feeling well if you didn’t want to go out with me,” Mattsukawa jokes, turning his head to the side so you wouldn’t see his tear stricken face to the side. He asks you, if you felt comfortable enough, to just stay still for a moment.

The rooftop rendezvous was not what you had in mind when you came home from clocking out, but considering you were heavily contemplating ending your existence earlier, this one request was not too hard to fulfill. The belladonna in your bronchioles seemed to dislodge itself into your lungs. You stay as still as your companion had asked and you breathe in time together. His curls are soft to the touch and when he relaxes his shoulders when you run a hand through his hair, you feel him grin on the right of your shoulder blades.

Was this what it felt like to be you every hour before you both met at the cafe? This profound sadness doesn’t leave his heart nor does he quite shake the feeling of the leaves of the belladonna flowers taking root in his lungs. The flowers bloomed slowly since his twenty-third birthday were the same ones you dyed your hair for. You’ve been suffering with the hanahaki disease for quite some time, you confess back to him.

“Is that why you were here? Trying to jump?” Mattsukawa asks an innocent inquiry. He seemed like he was about to be scolded for the first time in seven years, yet you thought it was kind of adorable. And so you do something you haven’t done in a very long time: you scoff (although you were sure it was closer to a giggle.

“No,” you reply. “I was contemplating jumping because all my triggers hit at once, so I’ve been in a depressive episode for quite some time before we met.”

“Oh,” Mattsukawa acknowledges. “Do you want to stay the night?”

“…that’s awfully forward of you,” you say. Your pragmatic inner voice says to decline, but there is a mischievous side of his mannerisms, nonetheless you are curious. It is late into the evening already, so perhaps the offer is a better one. After all, you think the change of scenery would do you some good, so you humbly agree.

Roughly an hour later, you find yourself in Mattsukawa’s living room area. Offering his shower to you, you ask if there is something he can lend you. It is an old shirt with his high school cactus logo on it, but the shorts he tosses to you has a VBC and his old number stitched on the back pocket. Mattsukawa hands you a spare towel and tells you how to work the shower in his bathroom. Twenty minutes later, you sit close to the kotatsu even if it’s not too cold outside at the moment, you tend to sleep better underneath one.

Prior to your shower, Mattsukawa-san graciously gave you a small tour of his loft when you arrived. The walk wasn’t too far from the rooftop building and so you two walk side by side until the loft complex came into view. Mattsukawa says hi to the doorman who makes a joke or two about how he had almost pulled another overnight at the funeral home.

“Be careful with that one miss, he’d work himself to death! Ha! Work himself to death,” the doorman says, wiping a faux tear from his eye. You snickered covering your smile with the back of your hand. When you put it to the side of your body, Mattsukawa notices how dazzling your smile is. How would someone who smiles this much at a pun, hold so much carnage of self-doubt and depressive thoughts in their heart? Is that why your flowers and your scent are wrapped in poisonous belladonna? Mattsukawa shakes this thought to the furthest parts of his mind. You’re here now, in the next room, safe under the same roof.

The master bedroom door is opened just a crack once Mattsukawa is half-dressed in his pajama pants, parading around shirtless fetching a glass of water from the kitchen. You were already seated on the barstool peering out the sliding glass door of the patio outside. Jumping was not the way to die for you, you think. Perhaps if you died with love, perhaps you’d have a better chance of reincarnation than you thought. The ambient sounds of the refrigerator and the water spout being used brought you back to hold the gaze of your host for the evening. You made a conscientious decision to cash in on your PTO at your work location for the next two weeks via e-mail. You explain to the HR representative you were feeling burn out and your therapist was working with you to battle the depressive episodes you were going through. The automotive message came back saying someone from the office of internal affairs would look into the chain of command in your division. However, you could care less about work at the moment, since you were enjoying the company of the person who helped kept you tied to this world.

“You like what you see?” Mattsukawa says smoothly. The water glass is placed on the counter in front of you. After graduation from Aoba Josai, running and other kinesthetic stretches were included in his workout regiment. You froze, placing your phone face down to the extreme left of the counter space. The granite glowed in the soft lamp from behind you, casting shadows in the grooves of his muscular features.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” you tease. “But I do like the person who saved me from making a huge mistake.”

Mattsukawa nods as he leans forward to rest his chin in his hand.

“I’ll always come running to you Yin,” he gives you a nickname close to the currency your country uses. This causes you to roll your eyes, yet you reassure him it was filled with endearment.

“You sound like you’re going to love me until the day I properly die Mattsun.”

He wasn’t expecting you to climb halfway across the granite counter, stretching your back further parallel to the floor (your feet are balancing your lower half on the chair).

His hand finds its way to the small of your back and he says a quick, “pardon me.” The onyx eyes he owns close and crinkle upward like small crescent moons before you feel his pursed lips press against your forehead.

“You’re safe here,” you hear him say. His warmth is a welcomed blanket of comfort for you; his words are kinder than your own thoughts.

“Will you kiss me properly?” You ask.

“In the morning, first thing,” he answers. “But first, sleep.”

Mattsukawa walks around his counter to keep you from hanging in the balance thus lowering the risk of you falling knees first on the floor.

“Remember how you fell on top of me?” Mattsukawa’s voice is low. You swallow nervously; you affirm that you do. “Good. Now hold on to me sweetheart.”

He leans back against your left side of your suspended body and he wraps an arm around your mid-section and you push off with your elbows. The next thing you are aware of, you are being carried like a drowsy child to the living room where you sit on Mattsukawa’s lap like before. You raise a hand to his smooth face, your fingers tracing the highest points of his features; his eyes flutter close to the sensational spell you are casting; he is about to fall in the in-between of sleep and lucidity when he feels your lips press firmly against his. When you back down, he stops you with one word: “More. One more time.”

You turn your head at an angle the moment you feel his hands turn you around to straddle him more comfortably.

“Better,” you confirm. Your nose teases his own and he languidly looks at you before he pushes your back playfully and your lips meet his again.

You sigh against his lips when your knees come into contact with his cushion; his arms move away from your hips to your ribs. The callouses he earned over the years of playing volleyball in high school memorizes the map of your skin. Together, the aroma of belladonna almost dissipates the pain in your lungs the longer you are breathing in everything the young man in front of you is giving.

This was as brave as you wanted to be right now. You’d be more adventurous months into your new found relationship with your restaurant-cafe rendezvous man. Your hands trace his collar bones before they found their purchase on the sides of his neck.

“I like that,” you say when you are given a chance to catch your breath. Mattsukawa’s hands rest on your love handles again and he pushes you into a loose embrace. Your hair tickles his shoulder when you rest your head against his pectoral.

“I like this too,” he says, running his fingers lightly up and down your spine. “Close your eyes and rest for a while Yin. We can talk about this in the morning, ok?”

You stifle a yawn, agreeing.

A few minutes later, after you are truly asleep, Mattsukawa supports you in his arms and he carries you like a child, careful to support your neck as your legs rest limply above his hips, to his room. He lays you down first and then proceeds to tuck you in; staying above the duvet, he watches over you breathing in and out steadily, the last small petals escaping your lips when you cough softly in your sleep. Mattsukawa stares at the last shriveled one on the corner of your lips and swats it away.

“Pretty angel, don’t scare me like that. I don’t want to lose you,” Mattsukawa reaches over to hold your hand; fingers intertwining around your own and you squeeze his back. “You’ll be alright and I will help you keep nightmares away.”

“Why?” Your voice is laced with sleep. “Why do you want to love me?”

“Because our story is just beginning my love.”

Mattsukawa rubs his thumb over your knuckles and when he lies down further on his bed next to you, he rests a protective arm over your shoulders.

[outoftheframework]

Hey! I was wondering if you had any ideas for a younger!batfam??? I hope you're having a wonderful day!!!

Ohh!! I can sure try!

So logically, the youngest we can get is about 12-13-14 years younger (whatever age Damian is). For the sake of consistency, let’s say 14 years younger, as based on this post of mine.

Ages:

Damian: New born (~1 month)

Duke: 3 years old

Tim: 5 years old

Steph: 6 years old

Jason: 8 years old

Cass: 10 years old

Dick: 13 years old

Babs: 15 years old

Alfred: 58 years old

Bruce: 28 years old

So let’s make this make sense. So, keeping the canon steady of Steph and Babs not being Waynes, Bruce would have to adopt/have 6 kids by the age of 28, which is pushing it a little bit (even for him). But let’s go with it anyway.

Dick Grayson has the same backstory and was taken in by a 23-year-old Bruce at age 8. Starting with that fact, all the rest of the kids would have to have come into Bruce’s life in a span of five years. Adoption is a long process, so it may make more sense for some of the kids to be “wards” or foster children of Bruce’s still in the process to be legally adopted. That being said, he loves and protects them all the same.

A year later, Batman finds a toddler (2-3 years old) wandering by himself in crime alley. He quickly discovers the kid is very intelligent for his age and babbles non-stop. Bruce cannot help but warm up to the child, and “banters” with the babble until he makes the grim discovery of the fate of the child’s mother. He stays with to kid until the police arrive, and a little bit after that, electing not to disappear into the shadows quite yet. As Bruce Wayne, he learns the name of and tracks down Jason Todd in the foster system and starts the legal process of adoption.

Not even six months later, a 6-7 year old Cassandra cain seeks out batman by breaking into Wayne Manor. Bruce almost has a heart attack coming home after work to see another child sitting at his dining room table with his two. She has come to ask Batman to train her, but instead Bruce does all in his power to remove her from her toxic home situation. She becomes close with Jason and Dick, who had been learning ASL in school and were excited to make a new friend. Soon, she’s on her way to becoming their new official sister.

Bruce gets one and a half years with his three musketeers before a frantic knock at the door gets their attention. They’re in the living room playing a heated game of Uno with extra made-up rules when Alfred leads a crying toddler into the living room, along with a pair of lawyers and a social worker. The trio leads Bruce away while Alfred tries to calm the child. “The Drakes had no suitable next-of-kin to take Timothy in. You’re named as the god-father. But we understand if-” “I think this house has room for one more.” Bruce had known the quiet boy from his gala appearances where his mother passed him around the other socialites while he held a straight face. He’d been suspicious of the Drake’s parenting from the first month they had Tim home, where he saw them leave to catch a plane without him. He’d been practically raised by nannies. Was it an impulsive decision? Yes. Does he regret it? Absolutely not.

Bruce and his growing gaggle of children were familiar with the Thomases; Mrs. Thomas did consulting work for WE and the younger ones’ favorite playground was in Duke’s neighborhood (Bruce can easily assume that Duke’s being there was a main reason for that specific playground to be their favorite). When his parents are tragically infected with Joker gas, Bruce is one of the first to know. He consoles a confused and traumatized Duke, who does not let go of Bruce’s shoulders when the social worker comes to speak with him. The Thomases don’t have any family on this side of the country, and Duke isn’t in any state to be moved a long distance away from his parents to live with people he barely knows. So, Bruce is the best choice to take care of Duke, and he does so happily. 

Well, his entire family wasn’t “planned” per say, but Damian was certainly the most unexpected. Talia was at his doorstep for maybe 30 seconds, uttering only: “Teach him to be like you.” Bruce had experience with children, but none as young as Dami. He called in other heroes to watch over Gotham while he stayed up all night with the baby: consoling, feeding, and changing when necessary. The other kids were fascinated by their little brother, and often begged to hold or feed him. Dick always excelled at his position of older brother, but has a special bond with Damian. 

I kind of love this. Hope it was what you were looking for!

Lemme know of you guys want any of this expanded upon.

[spasmsofthought]

15 years, 15 million tears (i gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all) [thor x reader]

hiiii I’ve been in my feels lately so here you go. maybe more parts to come?????

please forgive any typos or grammar mistakes! 

enjoy! xoxo 

+++

The pageantry never seems to end, apparently, as Asgardians partake in another feast, overflowing with food and drink, for the third time this week alone. The room is glowing and decadent, reflecting the riches of the people gathered together among the tables and around the pillars in a small area of this magnificent castle. There is laughter and smiles and an overall atmosphere that would be hard to resist if it were your first time at such an event.

It is not.

The merry faces hold sway over you no longer and it is easy to fade into the background while picking at the food that has been placed in front of you by a servant half-captivated by the scene in front of her and smiling politely at those who glance your way.

A boom of laughter comes from the other side of the chamber and it is not hard to guess who it belongs to. Thor Odinson has never been known for silence and his open mouth and wide grin portray his delight as he lifts his mug of ale and drinks yet again. The Warriors Three and other varying courtiers surround him, laughing along heartily. Lady Sif gives a quirk of her lips, playing along for a moment, but otherwise remains more stoic than the rest of the group.

It can be easy to be swept away in the revelry but tonight it just leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. There is no one near you that cares enough to notice when you get up from your seat, leaving your plate half-finished, and wander slowly towards the shadowed corridors hoping for quick exit. 

“My dear,” Frigga calls in her soothing voice.

Curse Frigga and her warm heart, for she knows you cannot dismiss her and you have no desire to. She is the Queen of Asgard and your guardian while you remain here in Asgard, and the wisest of all. 

“My Queen,” you turn and curtsy as she walks towards you. You can only offer her a slight smile hoping she will let you go soon and dare not ask for you to stay. 

“Why do you leave so early into the night? Is something the matter?” There is a concern, as always, in her voice, but something else that you cannot detect hides behind it. 

“I simply weary of the night, my lady, and seek rest in my own chamber, ‘tis all.” She comes closer and captures your hands with her own warm ones. Her gaze is loving and for a moment you imagine it would be like your own mother’s if she still lived. 

“Is that all?” She reads you like the palm of her hand but you give no answer. “I will have Thor escort you back, it will be no trouble.” 

You peer over her shoulder seeing Thor cast a quick glance over to his mother, for it is not often enough he sees you together in public spaces in the presence of so many people. It is the only glance he has spared you in months. You wrench your hands out of hers and hold them up to her in a pleading gesture, “No, please, my lady. He is enjoying his company and I wish to disturb no one. I know the way back to my own room.” 

Her eyes pierce yours but she chooses to relent this time, “Very well. May rest come to you tonight.” 

Her arms come to smooth over your hair and down to your shoulders, gentle and firm at the same time. 

“Good night, my Queen.” You nod and she lets go, allowing you to escape down the corridor into a darkened hallway. You continue to your room as you always have: alone. 

+ + + 

“I request an audience with my lord Odin Allfather and King of Asgard.” You try to keep your voice from trembling and you think you do well enough. This is not going to be easy, and you think your pacing wore through your bedroom’s carpet this morning. 

The throne room has always been grand, gold glinting from Odin’s seat and the weapon in his hand. When you came here years ago, it took everything in you to not cower in sheer fear of speaking to him. Now, the weight of the situation is no less heavy, but Odin is not as intimidating as he once was. 

“Speak, child,” his voice says to you after you curtsy in front of the dais. 

It is not warm like Frigga’s or boisterous like Thor’s. What little you have heard of Loki’s hold no comparison either. It holds the weight and authority of a king who has reigned longer than you have lived. 

“I wish to depart Asgard and return home,” Frigga’s eyes catch yours for a moment and there is something in them that makes you dread this conversation even more than you already do. 

“For how long? We will organize guards to accompany you on your journey and set a feast date for when you are to return.” 

“My lord, I do not wish to return at all.” The statement hangs in the air and the words echo around the chamber. It is now that you enter into truly dangerous territory. 

“And why with so little words do you wish to leave all that has been provided for you here? Foolish child, you do not know of what you wish.” Odin has always been rough around the edges, so you expected such a reaction to your proposal. He spent much time getting exactly what he wanted. 

“I know, my lord,” You beg your voice to stay even. It is not a time to test the King of Asgard anymore than you have, “that I can no longer sit idly by, gorging at feasts and drinking to my content, as my father grows old and my older sister fades away to time--” 

“You are shortsighted in your vision,” He interrupts adamantly, dismissing your words as if they are from the mouth of a child. But you are not a child and you have not been for a very long time. 

“I would continue to be patient,” It is like a spark lights inside of you, “if the Allfather would fulfill what he promised to me and my people decades ago. We gave you our best soldiers and our smiths and you still have yet to betroth me to a prince I came here decades ago to marry.” 

“I will tell you the same words I told you when you arrived here and became our ward--” 

“If my lord will forgive me,” For all the kindness and grace that has been instilled in you, your time here has taught you to never allow yourself to be spoken over, not even by the King of Asgard, “I have no time to entertain the same empty promises and fanciful notions that brought me here to you. I am the heir to my own throne and I am of no use to my kingdom if I wait endlessly for something that you, King of Asgard, have no intention of actually granting me nor my people. If it means I leave here declaring war, so be it.”

Frigga is wary next to her husband, as she is Queen of Asgard and no longer just someone who cares for you as a mother would. She cannot defy her husband in public, especially when the Court will hear of all of this before the end of day. Odin’s lips are pressed together and it is easy to tell that he is quickly losing what patience he holds with you. But you think your threats have worked well enough for the moment.

“I will grant consideration of this request but I make no promises. My decision will be known to you in the coming days.” He waves his hand at you, a quick and effortless motion. 

“My King,” You say begrudgingly though you glare at him as you give a final curtsy. The walk to exit out of the throne room is the longest of your life. 

+++

There is a loud knock at your chamber door two days later. The servants have pitied you with sad eyes and hidden frowns meant only for you, but otherwise you wait for news that still does not come. By the weight of the knock, you know it is Thor. There only has been one other time he has come to your door and it was for the feast thrown in your honor as you were welcomed into Asgard 15 years ago. It is funny how little the prince who was promised to marry you has seen you in the span of those years. 

He avoids you and everyone knows it. 

“What do you seek Thor?” You sigh as you see his face when the door opens. You are tired. His mouth is set in a grim line, which is unusual for him. He barges in with no care to how he may jostle you, which is usual for him. 

“I hear you are planning to leave us,” You want to roll your eyes, and behind his back you do. If he is coming here to simply confirm information he has already heard, you have better things to do with your time. “Permanently.” 

You stay stationed by your door, leaving it open. He will not be here for long. Your silence has him turning towards you. 

“You run as a coward?” He does not understand you in his foolishness, the kind that he seems to refuse to grow out of; he never has. 

“I cannot serve my people in a gilded cage waiting for you to grow up, Thor Odinson.” His facial expression startles for a second, as if he does not expect you to have a spine. 

“These promises,” He steps closer, confusion furrowing his eyebrows, “they mean so much to you that you would abandon the life that has been made for you here?” 

“I have no life here if your father does not keep his word. I leave with his permission or I leave without it. But I am not staying here sheltered like an innocent and dependent little girl.” There is some silence and you still wait by the door. 

“I do admire you,” He says. You want to scoff. This is longest conversation you two have ever had, so these words are meaningless. 

“Admiration does nothing for my people. And it helps me even less.” 

“Would you have even wanted to marry me?” He asks all the wrong questions at all the wrong times. 

“Perhaps, Thor,” you shrug as he comes again past you, barely stepping past the threshold, “if things were different and you were more willing to look beyond yourself.” 

He looks a little as if you have struck him, but you cannot find it in your heart to ask for any sort of forgiveness. He barely manages a nod to your words. 

“I think I would have liked to know you better--” 

“But you haven’t, Thor,” And you cannot help but be honest. The words are bitter as acid but they bring a relief. Too long have you bottled everything in. And it’s not like either of you are going to see each other any time soon. “And that is partly why everything is the way that it is. And it is why I must leave.” 

“I bid you good fortune, then, my lady,” He says as a farewell before he is briskly making his way down the hallway, as if he cannot get away fast enough. 

And you are alone, again, like maybe you were always meant to be. 

[hiding-bliss]

Emotions - Sims 4 Challenge

This challenge is a whimsy challenge. Filled with chaos, excitement, and emotions, you will never be bored. Basically. (Idk, don't quote me on that)

RULES:

1. No mods that could effect your performance of the challenge 2. CC and MCC are aloud 3. The only way to lose the challenge is your gen dying without completing the qualifications 4. No bringing Sims back to life in any way 5. Life span must be on normal unless gen rules say otherwise 6. This challenge uses all packs, if you do not have the ability to complete a gen because of your lack of packs, you have my permission to override it ;) 7. HAVE FUN. now.

NOTE

For the child aspirations, you do not have to complete them!!

GEN 1 - Happiness

You were born into this world with no care in the world, and are a little naïve. You grew up with positive, loving parents, and feel that positivity is something everybody needs. You're the type of person who walks around feeling bubbly and pumped all the time. All you want to do in life is spread your joy, and bring everyone you can with you.

Complete Aspiration: Big happy family Aspiration as a child (do not have to complete): Social Butterfly

Your sim has the traits: Cheerful, Childish, Family Oriented

Trait as a toddler: Silly

Max out the career of: Education

Max out the skills of: Parenting and Charisma

- Have three toddlers at the same time (if you need to temporarily move your sims lifespan to long for this, you can) - Have next gen kids visit every Saturday - Read your child to sleep every night - The only way to have fun is watching kids TV or playing with kids toys - In retirement have this gen have 4 pets. Two cats, two dogs. (they can be un-played)

GEN 2 - Sadness

You had the best childhood anyone could ever ask for, but always seemed to be down, and overall negative. You like a lot of things, but have never really loved anything. You don't really know what you want to do in life, and even though being raised in a house where you always have a plan, you have none, and that's the way you like it. All you know is that you're an emotional, creative, mess.

Complete the Aspiration: Bestselling author Aspiration as a child: Artistic Prodigy

Have the traits: Gloomy, Clumsy, Loner Trait as a toddler: Independent

Max out the career: Writer

Max out the skills: Writing and an instrument of your choice

- Have at least two failed relationships           - Have the first relationship fail because they cheated on you           - Have the second fail because you cheated on them - Have main next gen from random hookup - Have four children overall - Get into at least 3 fights with your spouse in your lifetime - Write in journal everyday as a kid - Age up with uncontrolled emotions

GEN 3 - Disgust

You grew up with a parent who was afraid to voice her opinions, and a father who made your life extremely easy. In result of this, you live your life comforted by money, being posh, and insensitive. All you did as a kid was argue until you got your way. But then as a young adult you're dumped in the city with zero simoleons, and all you want is your old life back.

Complete the Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy Aspiration as a child: Social Butterfly

Have the traits: Self-Assured, Ambitious, Snob Trait as a toddler: Charmer

Max out the career: Law

Max out the skills: Gourmet Cooking and Violin

- Move to San Myshuno with zero simoleons as a young adult - Have all A's as a child - Age up with good manners - Age up with insensitive trait - Don't get married until career maxed out - Only have one child - Become best friends with the grim reaper - Make a club where you argue every week

GEN 4 - Fear

You grew up with a parent who was a little rough around the edges, and tried to get you into the lavish lifestyle, but you just weren't for it. You don't like to argue with people, and want to keep the peace. You're the type of person who's scared of what's around the corner, whether it's violence, or other people. You never voice your emotions, save for when you're painting.

Complete the Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire Aspiration as a child: Artistic Prodigy

Have the traits: Creative, Squeamish, Paranoid Trait as a toddler: Angelic

Max out the career: Painter

Max out the skills: Painting and Wellness

- Never break up with anyone (to end a relationship, kill them or make them break up with you) - Leave someone at the altar as a young adult - Age up with the mediator trait - Age up with the polite trait - Have one argument with your best friend - Paint a painting in the mood of previous gens (as close as you can get) - Get married to two people (have the first marriage divorce you) - Live in a tiny house for all of young adult life (mid tier)

GEN 5 - Surprise

You grew up with a simple, loving lifestyle, and all throughout your childhood you were just kind of... bored. The only thing you ever enjoyed was food. You don't like the idea of settling down, all you want to do is explore the city, and lead a pointless, reckless, life.

Complete the Aspiration: City Native Aspiration as a child: Rambunctious Scamp

Have the traits: Non-committal, Foodie, Adventurous  Trait as a toddler: Wild

Max out the career: Food critic

Max out the skills: Cooking, Dancing, Mixology

Get to level 5 of: Bowling and Singing

- Go half way into the food critic career before owning your own restaurant - Sell restaurant once adult - Go back to level 5 of food critic as adult (you may use cheats for this) - Have one boy and one girl (you may use cheats for this) - Cook dinner for your family every night - Age up with no bonus traits - Get married as an elder - Live in every district of the city - Have six cats

GEN 6 - Pride

Your mother always taught you to have fun and be confident... but eventually you became a little lazy and too confident. You know this, but don't know how to fix it. You decide to lose all the fun, go to university, and be a doctor. Maybe you'll lose your arrogance if you're good at something?

Complete the Aspiration: Academic Aspiration as a child: Rambunctious Scamp

Have the traits: Goofball, Lazy, Ambitious, and Self-Absorbed Trait as a toddler: Independent

Max out the career: Doctor

Max out the skills: Knitting and Robotics

- Have D's as a kid - Go to park every other day as child - Host at least three parties at your home as a teen - Go to Uni for biology - Go into florist career as an elder - Have the lazy trait has a teen, trade it out for ambitious as a young adult - Max out knitting as an adult/elder - Drink milk every day

GEN 7 - Shame

At school, kids would always tease you for your mom being rude and rich. In your childhood, the only happiness you found was with video games. You were always ashamed of yourself, and the way you lived, and could never find good people that didn't judge you. Once you move out, all you're looking for is someone who can finally understand you, and to lead a simple life in the country where you can play games to your hearts content.

Complete the Aspiration: Soulmate Aspiration as a child: Whiz Kid

Have the traits: Genius, Geek, and Lazy Trait as a toddler: Clingy

Max out the career: E-Sports Competitor

Max out the skills: Media production, Programming, and Video Gaming

- Live in Brindleton Bay from young adult to elder - Age up with polite trait - Age up with emotional control trait - Play games after school everyday - Never have any friends until young adult - Meet all your friends online (from work) - Only ever have one relationship (the one you die with) - Get cancelled for having your spouse cheat on you (story flipped)

GEN 8 - Embarrassment

As a child, your parents were always loving and "with the kids". Your life is everything you've dreamed of until your mom gets cancelled and your parents split. Once they've split and you've moved to a whole new world, you bury yourself in music and books. But in the end, all you want in life is to move on, and pretend like you're something you're not.

Complete the Aspiration: Master Actor/Actress Aspiration as a kid: Social Butterfly

Have the traits: Outgoing, Music Lover, Bookworm Trait as a toddler: Clingy

Max out the career: Actor/Actress

Max out the skills: Acting, all toddler skills, and get to level 8 of 3 skills of your choice

- Age up with the responsible trait - Have three different part time jobs - Have a part time job while in the actor career (tiers 1-3) - Never be broken up with - Have three children - Have all your children enrolled in drama club - Never pass level 3 in parenting - Say something to someone from a different category every day - Have your number leaked (you may use cheats) - Move to a new world as a child/teen

GEN 9 - Excitement

Your mother was always embarrassed due to her past, and in so never really talked to anyone. You've grown up in the spotlight and find it exciting, but don't think you want to be in it forever. Your life was always fun and exciting, and once you move out that's all you want, light-heartedness and fun. You’re a messy, private, jokester.

Complete the Aspiration: Joke Star Aspiration as a child: Rambunctious Scamp

Have the traits: Goofball, Slob, Un-flirty

Trait as a toddler: Charmer

Max out the Career/Branch: Entertainer/Comedy

Max out the skills: Comedy and Mischief

- Spontaneously adopt a child (next heir) - Never get married - Never have a fight - Never move - Have a party every week - In your final house, have a full-on stage to practice comedy - Age up with the in-polite trait - Witness three deaths (you may use cheats, or make them your own)

GEN 10 - Anger

Your parents always tried to make you laugh as a kid, but every hint of laughter just made you more angry. You're naturally angry, and don't care. All you care about is your career, and not how other people see you. You're a little emotional and stubborn, but who isn't?

Complete the Aspiration: Public Enemy Aspiration as a child: Whiz Kid

Have the traits: Hates Children, Evil, Ambitious Trait as a toddler: Fussy

Max out the career: Criminal

- Age up with 3 negative traits (parenthood) - Kill 5 sims from your work (you may do this in any way, whether through violence mods or MCC)  - Go to work for one day in Law Enforcement - Get in a fight at every place you go - Have six enemies - Each time you age up, invite someone over just to fight them (for toddler, child, you may just do a mean interaction)  - Don't have any kids - Die from someone poisoning you - Go to your local park every week to yell at kids