#the forging of bitter bonds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slu7formen · 15 days

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I heard you were sad about the lack of Luke asks, so l've decided to try and help! Bare with me bc this might not be the best considering I'm think on the spot and its late over here so feel free to delete!

So, reader was with Luke when he was running away with Annie and Thalia so they're really close. Then, when her and Luke were like 16 or smth reader left on a quest and its been like 2 years so its assumed that she just failed and died on her quest. This ruined Luke bc he loved her and one night, maybe at the bonfire, he hears reader screaming his name somewhere in the foresty part of camp, just absolutely terrified. He finds her and shes hurt, I'm talkin reallyyy messed up like a massive gash across her eye, (matching scar awww) leavin her like half blind, huge claw marks, teeth marks, and other wounds. He carries her to the infirmary, shes prob passed out at this point from like blood loss. Anyways, she finally wakes up in the infirmary and a bunch of fluff ensues, yk the usual "Don't ever leave me again" "I thought you were dead" the fun stuff and obv they confess to each other! (also, is 🖤 taken?)

whoever made this request, it was so good, you’re evil and brilliant; thank you 🖤

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: wounds, injuries, blood mention, presumed death, luke being heartbroken (sorry), crying

reminder: english's not my first language so l apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

Every morning, Luke woke with the same dull ache in his chest, a constant reminder of the gaping hole your absence had left in him. It was a hollow ache, a physical manifestation of the loneliness that had become his unwelcome company. Nine years old when he ran away, the world had been a harsh teacher, but three years later, when he found you, that harshness had softened, replaced by a fierce protectiveness. You, a scared, twelve-year-old with defiance blazing in your eyes and a meager weapon in hand, had become his anchor in the storm.

The streets had been a cruel way of living, but together, you and Luke had forged a bond stronger than steel. You were the same age, yet he was older by a few months, a difference that somehow granted him a silent responsibility for your safety. Thalia and Annabeth, two more lost souls swept up in the world of their demigod destinies, completed their unbalanced family. But it was you and Luke, the two eldest, who shared a silent language of understanding that went beyond words. You fought together, scavenged together, your backs against the world.

The arrival of Grover, a satyr reeking of panic, brought relief and a terrifying truth— you weren't alone. The hunt for demigods was real, and you were all in danger.

Fourteen. A year etched in his memory with the sharp point of a spear. The monsters, the desperate fight, Thalias selfless sacrifice, the agonizing transformation into the pine tree — the events played on a loop in his mind. Camp Half-Blood, once a beacon of hope, now felt like a bittersweet prison. He had you by his side then, a hand to grip in the darkness, a silent understanding in your shared gaze.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. You were supposed to be there, by his side, facing challenges and forging a future together. He replayed the memory of your first quest announcement on a loop. The fear in his gut, a slap in the face of his fierce protectiveness. He wasn't supposed to lose you.

It wasn't fair. It shouldn't have been you, alone, facing whatever monstrous fate had befallen you. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he replayed the day you left. The forced cheer, the worry that gnawed at him, all a blur now. Training became a way to numb the ache, each swing of his sword carrying a silent plea for your sate return. But as days turned into months, the hope that had fueled him began to fade away.

News traveled slow in the demigod world, but eventually, rumors reached Camp Half-Blood. Whispers of a monstrous encounter, a lost trail, a silence that stretched too long. A year after your departure, the whispers solidified into a grim reality - you were missing, presumed dead.

Luke felt the world tilt on its axis. Denial battled with a cold, horrifying truth. You were gone.

A quest, a single solitary mission, had stolen you from him. Stolen your laughter, your warmth, your presence that had become an essential part of his world. It wasn't fair.

The quest for the Golden Apple had been a cruel twist of fate. A desperate attempt to appease his father, to offer a sliver of hope to a camp drowning in sadness, it had backfired spectacularly. Luke returned empty-handed, his body wracked with exhaustion and his spirit battered. But the most visible reminder of his failure was the jagged scar that ran from beneath his eye down to his chin, a pale testament to the dragon's fury.

He'd needed your presence then more than ever. Needed your steady gaze and the quiet strength you possessed. Needed the spark of defiance in your eyes that mirrored his own growing anger towards a world that had seemed so determined to tear them apart. He needed your touch, your hugs, he needed you.

He stood stiffly before your burial shroud, an image carved in his memory forever. Tears streamed down his face, hot and unchecked. He ignored the concerned glances of his friends, focusing only on the phantom warmth of your hand in his, a memory more vivid than anything else.

In that moment, ravaged by grief, a single truth burned bright — he loved you. And he had lost you. The world felt a little emptier, a little colder, without you by his side.

And the first nights after you left were the worst.

At first, they were hopeful visions. He'd see you, alone on a dusty road, tending to a nasty gash on your arm with a makeshift bandage. A surge of worry would course through him, a familiar anxiety honed by years on the streets. But then, a wry smile would tug at his lips as he remembered the countless times he'd taught you how to create a tourniquet, how to patch a wound and survive on the bare minimum. A flicker of confidence, a belief in your resourcefulness, would chase away the initial fear. He just knew you'd find a way back to him.

He'd wake with a jolt, his hand instinctively reaching for the empty space beside him. The sheets were cold, the air thick with the silence of your absence. But then, a flicker of hope would ignite— you were alive, you were out there.

Finally, the dreams turned into nightmares. You'd appear, but not the way he remembered you. Pale and gaunt, your eyes hollow and vacant. Sometimes, you'd be chased by monstrous shadows, their grotesque forms dissolving into a chilling whisper of your name. These dreams left him gasping for breath, his heart hammering against his ribs.

It had been a little over a year since the agonizing ceremony, the image of your burial shroud seared into his memory. But time, a supposed healer, offered no solace. In reality, it had stretched the fact of your absence even wider. Two years. Two years since he'd last seen your smile, heard your voice, felt the warmth of your hand in his.

"Luke!"

Ah, yes. He heard you sometimes. At first, it happened while he was alone; he believed it could be you, trying to contact him in some way, but it never was that way. He never found you. Then he started hearing your voice in crowded places, mistaking your voice for the ones of other campers, and his heart ached every time he realized it wasn't you.

He felt like he was going insane. Hearing you, even after years. He must be going mad. But then, it became clearer.

"Luke!"

The voice, barely audible above the crackling flames, cut through his thoughts like a knife. He froze, his hand tightening around the thin stick that held his burned marshmallow. Was it-? No. It couldn't be. He must be imagining things again.

The grief, the pain, he knew, could play tricks on the mind.

He brushed it off, attempting to rejoin the conversation, forcing a lightness to his voice that felt hollow. But then, it came again. Clearer this time, tinged with a desperate urgency.

"Luke!? Luke!"

The single word, laden with a desperate urgency, pierced through his defenses. He froze, his blood turning to ice. It was your voice. The same voice that filled his dreams and haunted his waking hours. He whipped his head around, searching the darkened forest beyond the fire's reach.

But the trees stood silent, their branches swaying gently in the night breeze. Nothing. Yet, the echo of your voice lingered in the air, a chilling reminder of the impossible. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic drum against his ribs.

He glanced around the fire, catching the bewildered expressions of a few campers who had clearly heard the voice too. Their eyes mirrored the confusion and fear that clawed at him. If he said anything, they'd think he'd cracked, that the pain had finally driven him mad.

"Luke!"

But it was you.

Your voice, unmistakable and undeniably real. A wave of disbelief washed over him, followed by a surge of hope so intense it threatened to suffocate him.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the surprised yelps of his friends as he knocked over a tray of steaming hot cocoa cups. Stumbling over his own feet, he charged towards the edge of the forest, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

He skidded to a halt just inside the treeline, his eyes scanning the darkness. "yn!?" he called out, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and desperate hope. The only reply was the rustling of leaves in the night breeze.

It was cloaked in darkness, making it impossible to discern any details. But there was a smallness, a fragility to its silhouette that resonated with his memory of you.

Just as doubt began to creep back in, another call pierced the silence. "Luke!" This time, the desperation in your voice was unmistakable.

He didn't hesitate any longer. "yn!" he roared, his voice raw with emotion as he launched himself into a run.

Several campers, roused by the commotion, scrambled to their feet, their eyes wide with confusion and trepidation. They watched, mouths agape, as Luke bolted towards the treeline, his long strides eating away at the distance.

"Luke!" Your voice came again, closer this time, tinged with a note of panic.

"yn!" He didn't dare slow down, his heart making its way up to his mouth. He could hear the sound of others following him, their footsteps pounding on the soft earth behind him.

Through the dense foliage, he caught a glimpse of your figure — small, hunched over, moving with a limp. Hope flared bright within him, battling the tide of fear that threatened to drown him.

Then, you stumbled, nearly falling. He redoubled his efforts, pushing himself to the limit. As he broke through the last line of trees, he saw you standing there, bathed in the pale moonlight.

And his breath hitched in his throat.

The sight of you, once vibrant and full of life, was a punch to the gut. Dirt and grime smeared your face, your clothes were ripped and tattered, and a sheen of sweat covered your brow. But it was the wounds that stole his breath away. Deep claw marks raked across your arms, a bloody gash marred your leg, and the most horrifying of all — a massive scar stretched across your eye, a brutal reminder of some unseen battle. The campers behind him gasped in unison, their faces etched with shock and horror.

Chiron, alerted by the commotion, pushed his way through the crowd, his brow furrowed in concern.

But your focus was solely on Luke. With a desperate cry of his name, you lurched towards him, your injured leg buckling beneath you. Without hesitation, Luke launched himself forward, catching you in his arms just before you hit the ground.

"Luke..." you whispered, your voice barely a breath. Your eyes, the one that wasn't obscured by the wound, flickered with a spark of relief and a hint of something else - a deep, unspoken emotion that mirrored his own.

Then, your eyelids fluttered closed, and your body went limp in his arms. Panic surged through him as he cradled you closer, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and relief. " yn? No, no, no, no, yn?" he slightly slapped your cheek, no response. He looked back to to the campers that decided to follow him, his voice cracking with desperation. "Get the Apollo cabin, now!"

The days that followed your arrival were shrouded in a suffocating silence. The once vibrant camp seemed to echo with a collective held breath. No one dared to talk to Luke.

His eyes, once playful and sparkly, now held a deep, smoldering anger. He snapped at anyone who dared to approach. Only Chiron, with his patient wisdom, Annabeth, with her loyalty, and the healers of Apollo cabin, sworn to secrecy about your condition, were able to pierce the storm raging within him.

Each day, a relentless routine unfolded. Luke would rise with the first rays of dawn, his body heavy with the weight of his own despair. He'd force down a meager breakfast, the taste turning to ash in his mouth. Then, with a heart that felt like a lead weight in his chest, he'd make the agonizing trek to the Big House, the temporary haven where you resided. He would do it multiple times a day, actually.

Lee, the son of Apollo with a mop of messy blonde hair and eyes that held a touch of empathy, would greet him at the door, a practiced neutrality masking his concern. The answer was always the same. You were alive. The healers had managed to stabilize you. But your recovery was a slow, painful journey. The wounds you bore were a testament to a harrowing pain, and the care they had taken on your body was immense.

As soon as you had fainted in his arms, you had slipped into unconsciousness. No amount of coaxing, no whispered pleas from the healers, or songs in Ancient Greek, could bring you back. Luke was devastated. The relief of having you back, a physical presence after two agonizing years, was a fragile flame quickly extinguished by the reality of your condition. Your life hung by a thread, and he was kept at arm's length.

One particularly bleak afternoon, Luke found himself face-to-face with Chiron. The old centaur, his kind eyes reflecting the turmoil swirling within Luke, gestured for him to sit.

"Luke," Chiron began, his voice soft yet firm, "I understand your pain. Your worry for yn is valid and understandable. But you must also understand, her condition is delicate"

Luke clenched his fists, his jaw tightening with suppressed anger. "Why can't I see her? Annabeth's younger than me and yet, she gets to see her. Why not me?" The words tumbled out, laced with a raw desperation.

Chiron sighed, a weary sound. "Because, Luke," he said, his voice heavy with empathy, "we fear the emotional toll it might take on you if-, if the worst were to happen."

He slumped in his chair, defeated. Grief, anger, and a gnawing helplessness battled within him.

"How long then?" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "How long will it be before I can see her again?"

Chiron reached out, placing a comforting hand on Luke's shoulder. "We don't know, Luke" he said honestly. "But the healers are doing their best And you need to find your strength. She will need it when she wakes up”

He nodded dumbly, understanding Chiron's concern for him. But that didn't make the gnawing ache in his chest any less agonizing. He missed you. Missed the warmth of your hand in his, the light that sparkled in your eyes, the way your laughter could chase away even the darkest shadows.

A few days later, he walked by the Big House again. Lee greeted him again, just as every other day.

"How is she?" Luke asked.

Lee sighed, a gust of exasperation tinged with sympathy. He looked tired himself, dark circles under his eye and a large cup of coffee in his hand. "Little change. But she's stable. Stronger than she looks. We had some healers fainting because of how much singing they've done to her"

A muscle ticked in Luke's jaw. "Can't I at least see her?" The words came out harsher than he intended, dripping with frustration.

Lee studied him for a long moment, his own blue eyes reflecting the turmoil within Luke. Finally, he spoke. "Look, I get it. You're scared, you're angry. But you have to understand, seeing her likes this... we can't let you"

Luke clenched his fists. "I can handle it" he growled, the beast within him straining against its leash.

Lee took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Can you, Luke? Can you handle the possibility that maybe she doesn't get to wake up?"

The question hung in the air, a brutal truth that stripped away Luke's bravado. He stared at Lee, the anger draining away, replaced by a raw vulnerability that surprised even him. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat suddenly making it hard to breathe.

"No" he whispered, the single word a confession of his deepest fear.

Lee nodded, a flicker of understanding softening his features. "Then trust us, Luke. Trust the healers. We're doing everything we can."

And then he remember Chiron's words. He knew he was right. He couldn't bear the thought of the last image of you being one of unconsciousness, a pale specter in a sterile infirmary bed.

The days that followed settled into a grim routine. Luke stopped asking the relentless question, 'Did she wake up?' The answer, etched into his weary soul, was a constant ache that no words could soothe. He had stopped arguing, the initial burst of rebellion replaced by a quiet desperation. He started asking more specific questions, focusing on the details of your injuries. Your eye, the massive gash that mirrored his own scar in a way that made his stomach churn, became a particular point of morbid fascination.

He couldn't bear to look at the jagged mark on his face, couldn't imagine how it felt on yours.

Not because he thought you wouldn't be beautiful —he knew you would be. But the thought of you facing the same constant reminder of pain, of vulnerability, filled him with a protective rage that simmered beneath the surtace.

But then, a shift began to occur. He noticed stolen glances exchanged between the Apollo campers, hushed whispers that died down as soon as he entered their vicinity. An unspoken secret they guarded fiercely. He tried to ignore it, burying himself in training, seeking solace in the familiar sting of sweat and exertion. Chiron's words were a constant drumbeat in his head - seeing you too soon, on the precipice of death, was a burden he might not bear.

But later that day, as the sun dipped below the horizon casting the camp in an orange glow, Chiron sought him out. Luke braced himself, his heart plummeting into his stomach. His mind spun with a thousand morbid possibilities.

He met Chiron's gaze, a storm brewing in his own eyes. "What is it?" he rasped, voice breaking.

Chiron took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto Luke's with a solemn intensity. "Luke," he began, his voice thick with a mix of trepidation and hope, "she's awake."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis again. The air whooshed out of Luke's lungs, leaving him breathless. For a moment, he could only stare, his mind struggling to process the simple, life-altering statement.

Then he ran.

His feet pounded a trantic rhythm against the dusty path, each step fueled by a desperate need to see you. Chiron's protests, if there were any, were lost in the roar of blood rushing in his ears. He wouldn't be denied this. Not now. His legs pumped like pistons, fueled by a desperate hope that threatened to shatter him if it turned out to be false. He burst through the doors of the Big House, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. The interior was deserted, the silence amplifying the frantic pounding of his heart.

He flung open the infirmary door, the sight inside momentarily stealing his breath. Two Apollo campers stood by the window, their hushed whispers abruptly cut short by his arrival.

But his eyes were locked on you, the very image of him defying the cruelty of fate.

You sat on the bed, a fragile silhouette bathed in the pale light, your head bent over your bandaged hands. Your hair, once a fiery mane, had grown longer, a testament to the time that had passed for him in a blur of grief. Your skin, usually kissed by the sun, was a pale canvas.

He took everything in — the fresh cuts marring your arms, the claw marks, the way your shoulders slumped with exhaustion. And you had lifted your head, startled by the sudden noise.

Your eyes, usually sparkling with life, were dull with pain, but when they met his, a spark ignited within them.

"Luke!"

The word ripped from your throat, a cry that echoed with relief and a tremor of something deeper. You lunged off the bed, ignoring the wince that contorted your face as your injured leg protested.

"yn, wait!" Lee sprang forward, concern etched on his face. Your stitches, particularly those on your thigh, were still fresh, and any sudden movement could cause them to tear.

But you didn't listen. You threw yourself at Luke, your arms wrapping around him with a desperation that mirrored his own. He caught you, the impact sending a jolt through his body. His arms tightened around you, a desperate need to hold on, to feel you solid against him.

He held you tight, the fierce possessiveness in his grip both a comfort and a warning. Your body, the way you fit so perfectly against his larger frame, sent a jolt through him. He'd grown, you realized, his broad shoulders feeling wider, his embrace stronger. In contrast, you felt impossibly small, the warrior you remembered replaced by a shell of the person you once were. His hot tears quickly started to wet your hair.

The sudden weakness in your leg, the one that had been screaming in protest since you lunged at him, finally overwhelmed you. A sharp cry escaped your lips as your body gave way beneath you. Instinctively, Luke tightened his grip, his arms morphing into a cradle to catch your fall.

The impact with the floor sent a fresh wave of pain shooting through you, but it was a dull ache compared to the overwhelming joy of finally being in his arms again. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his back, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Luke wouldn't stop sobbing now, his shoulder shaking as his arms held you into his embrace.

The Apollo campers, sensing the intimacy of the moment, mumbled apologies as they slipped out of the infirmary, leaving you and Luke alone.

He cradled you close, the scent of your hair and the warmth of your body a balm to his battered soul. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the familiar fragrance that had haunted his dreams for so long. It was real. You were real.

"You're alive" he sobbed, the words a broken mantra against your ear. "You're alive" he repeated. Each repetition wasn't just for you, but for him, a desperate attempt to convince himself that this wasn't a cruel dream, that you weren't an illusion.

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hand, his thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw. The wounds looked clean now, stitched and bandaged, but the raw pain was etched in the lines around your eyes. The gash across your eye, a crimson scar angry and fresh, pulled at the corner of your eye, making it appear swollen and bruised. Yet, to him, you were the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

It started a finger's width above your eyebrow, then, just as abruptly, it dipped down, catching the outer corner of your eye. The scar tissue pulled the delicate skin, making your eye appear slightly narrowed and bloodshot.

But despite the rawness of the wound, despite the vulnerability etched on your face, there was something undeniably fierce about you. It was a look he hadn't seen before, a look born from surviving the unthinkable.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, blurring your vision. You had always been beautiful, that much was undeniable. But now, even with a scar contrasting against your features, you were breathtaking.

He didn't mean to say it out loud, but the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.

"You look beautiful" he breathed, his voice thick with emotion.

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You leaned into his touch, seeking solace in the warmth of his hand. "It hurts" you whispered, a tear tracing a path down your cheek.

"I know" he murmured, his voice filled with empathy. He sniffed uncontrollably at your sight, so broken and fragile, wrapped around his arm. "But you're alive. You're here" his bottom lip started trembling before he could control it. He inhaled sharply and his voice came out shaky; "I thought you were dead" tears rolling down his cheeks.

You laughed, a weak sound that was more like a sob. "You won't get rid of me that easily"

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your skin. In that moment, the infirmary with its sterile smell and harsh light faded away. All that existed was the feel of you in his arms, the warmth of your body against his, and the knowledge that you were alive.

"Don't ever leave me again" he pleaded, his voice thick with a mix of relief and terror. The thought of losing you again, of facing another agonizing day without you, was almost unbearable.

"I wouldn't dream of it" you whispered.

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milswrites · 2 months

Text

Hobbies Part 9.

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: none?

Azriel moved through the halls like a starved beast. Hunting for the one thing that could satisfy him. His mate.

After the bond had snapped into place Azriel had wasted no time in travelling through his shadows to the Day Court. Whilst he couldn’t directly travel into the palace, Azriel made sure to get as close to the wards as he possibly could. Not stopping to wait for a single minute as he forced his way into the grand building, uncaring of the shocked guards who had taken to chasing after him through the winding corridors, shouts of their objection flooding his ears.

He was searching for Helion. For the one person who could tell him where Y/N was staying, where Azriel so desperately needed to go.

The shouts of alarm from the Day Court guards was a blessing for Azriel, their call having drawn the attention of the High Lord. Helion appearing before Azriel in all his glory, there was no surprise on his face at the presence of the shadowsinger in his halls. In fact it was almost as if he was waiting for him.

“I must say you’re later than I expected, did you walk here?” The High Lord teased, flashing a blinding smile to an unimpressed Azriel.

“Where is she?” He growled out, not wanting to waste any precious time he could be having with Y/N by staying and talking to Helion longer than he needed to.

“What?” The male gasped mockingly, “no hello Helion? I’ve missed you Helion? You’re the greatest High Lord ever Helion? I was hoping for more after what I did for you, forging relationships isn’t my usual job role.”

“Where is she?” Azriel snarled once more, refusing to play this game. Azriel was surprised at the control he was showing, the ugly monster inside of him that was born from the revelation of the bond wanted nothing more than to hold a knife to the High Lord’s throat until he told him where Y/N had been sent.

Helion sighed, but the glint of something other than annoyance shone in his eyes and Azriel could tell that the male was pleased at Azriel’s impromptu arrival at his court, “She’s in a village North-East of here, it’s about a two hour flight… but with the state you’re in I’d reckon you could make it in one.”

Without as much as a thank you, Azriel sped from the scene, the guards that had been chasing after him divided, allowing the tense Illyrian to pass through them, fearing what would occur if they were to stop him.

Not even waiting until he had cleared the palace gate, Azriel stretched his wings and took flight, as if spending another hour without Y/N’s grounding presence would lead to most certain death.

And so Azriel flew faster than he had ever done in his life. The bitter evening wind biting his cheeks and knotting his unruly hair. But Azriel didn’t care, not about his appearance, not when every minute that passed meant he was getting closer and closer to his mate. His Y/N.

Azriel would have flown for centuries if he had to, if only it meant Y/N would be there waiting for him when he landed. The mating bond must have gifted some cauldron-blessed power to Azriel who found he had never flown so swiftly, wings acting on their own accord as they beat powerfully, allowing Azriel to cut through the sky like a blade.

Until he felt it, the gentle tugging growing stronger, drawing him towards where he most needed to be. Stirred on by the feeling and wanting to be consumed by it completely, Azriel followed. Slowing his flight until he came across a quaint village which was glowing amber as the sun set around it. Y/N was somewhere in this small collection of thatched houses and farms, unaware of the arrival of the male who had become overwhelmed with his want to be near her.

Landing with such a force that his knees buckled, Azriel readily cast his eyes to his surroundings, scanning for the woman he so longed to hold. He walked through the gathering crowd of alarmed villagers, whispering to each other in question as they clearly had never seen an Illyrian soldier before. Let alone one who looked as feral as Azriel no doubt did after his rushed flight, wings flared and cobalt siphons vibrating with the need to release the power building within him due to his increased adrenaline the bond was pulsating through him.

He scanned all their terrified faces, seeking the familiar features of the woman he had grown to love. Eyes jumping from villager to villager until they finally landed on her. On the woman who Azriel was prepared to drop onto his knees for and beg for her forgiveness. He would do anything to ensure her happiness.

~~~~~

“Azriel” she breathed his name from her lips in disbelief, needing to repeat it to be sure that he had truly existed and that he was here now, “Azriel?”

Here she was, stood before Azriel in the sweetest shade of violet and he found himself unable to speak, stunned by her innocent beauty. Even the small crease of her brows caused his heart to palpitate. All the words he had wished to tell her over the past two weeks lodged themselves in his throat. Nothing he could say would ever do justice to the incredible woman before him.

As the shock of his sudden appearance in the village wore away, confusion flooded her expression, “Is that…my tunic? How did you get that? It was in my house.”

Once more Azriel failed to find the words he so urgently required. His mouth open yet unspeaking like a fool. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his tunic to retrieve the item he had hurriedly crammed inside before his disappearance from the Night Court. Azriel pulled out the sketchbook she had given him on their very first day of meeting and held it out to a stunned Y/N.

“What- what’s this?” She asked, taking the book with a frown on her face.

“You were right” the words finally poured from his mouth, “about me being miserable, about how I don’t do anything. That my friends wouldn’t want me to do nothing and waste away.”

Her eyebrow twitched as she pulled open the sketchbook, the pages of which were filled with inky drawings of her. Azriel knows he had failed to capture the true beauty that is Y/N. He had never drawn before and numerous pages from the book had been torn out in his frustration at his lack of skills. But he had filled the book, page after page being covered in the hours he had spent by himself in the Night Court. The need to print her pretty face in permanent ink and capture her glowing smile before he forgot it led to Azriel picking up this new hobby. The one way to ensure that even if he never saw Y/N again, he would always carry a piece of her with him.

As she took the time to turn through each work or art Azriel had created in her honor, the trails of tears that freely flowed down her rosy cheeks and her rapidly beating heart which Azriel felt entwined with his own, gave the male the confidence to continue.

“I love you” he stated, Y/N’s affectionate gaze moving from the drawings to his deadly serious face. “I have done for a while I think” he continues, “and Y/N if you forgive me I will love you with every ounce of my being until we’re nothing but dust in the stars.”

Now sure that he had her attention and Y/N wouldn’t run away or ignore him for his disappearing act, Azriel felt free to tell her what he should have done when they were in the solitude of the garden all those weeks ago, “You are the reason my heart beats and if I had to live the rest of my life not knowing if you feel the same way I do, if you share the same burning need for you that I have, then I will surely perish because that is not a life that I want to live.”

He slowly stepped towards her, raising his hand to brush the diamond-like tears from her soft cheeks, “You are my salvation and my undoing and I will love you for as long as the mother allows. And if you’ll have me, even after all that happened, I promise that I will do everything in my power to make sure that I take you to explore every inch of Prythian. That we’ll see the world together and leave no place untouched.”

Allowing the notebook to slip through her fingers and drop onto the floor, Y/N grips Azriel by the front of his tunic, the tunic she had so lovingly made him, and pulled him in to a firey kiss, uncaring of the nosy villagers who were still gathered around them.

Unwilling to waste a single moment with Y/N that he was given, Azriel’s arms flew around the woman, pulling her roughly towards his chest and encasing her in his arms as their lips melted together. His lips which moved desperately against hers, wanting to express just how much she means to him and how harrowing the past few weeks without her had been. Y/N seemed to be on the same wavelength as the kiss she delivered him was filled with the same burning passion and uncontrollable need as his.

Finally, not wanting to get too carried away in front of the crowd of people who were now awkwardly staring at the pair, their lips broke apart, though Azriel refused to let go of Y/N’s waist, not wanting her to take another step further from him.

She smiled, lifting her hand so it brushed over the shoulder of his tunic, “it fits” she beams, pleased to see the shadowsinger wearing her clothes. “It’s perfect” he whispered whilst leaning his forehead against hers, “I think I’m going to need a whole wardrobe full of them. All with dresses to match for you of course. Pink, purple, blue, I want them all.”

“That’s a lot of work” she giggled, hands still running over her creation which fit snug against his broad form.

“If you give me another chance we’ll have all the time in the world” he said earnestly, pulling his head away from hers far enough that they could lock their eyes with each other, “I know I don’t deserve it after what I did to you but please allow me to have a do over. A proper date this time now that I’m not afraid to call it what it is.”

“No running away?” She asked, a brief glimpse of sadness in her eyes as the memory of his absence was still fresh in her mind.

“Not even the mother herself could drag me away from you now” he promised, lips brushing against his mates once more.

Part 10

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: I screamed the entire time I was writing this. She knows he loves her but she’s yet to find out about the bond…hmmm wonder how that will go.

Only one more chapter and then the epilogue and it’s over but I really don’t want it to be 😭😭😭

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #sarah j maas #azriel imagine #a court of thorns and roses #azriel shadowsinger #azriel

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entername322 · 3 months

Text

Her highness

Minji (New jeans) x Male Reader

Length: 11341 words

Previous part

“What do you mean we're not doing karaoke? It was your idea”, Things have been very fishy for you recently, at least according to Jin, “Yeah, I did plan that, but you know, life”, He glances around a little to look at Haewon who's passive aggressively staring at you. “Whatever the fuck is happening between you and Hae, you better fix it fast before this whole thing blew up”, With the frustration all over his face you didnt have the heart to tell him you're dropping off college soon. Nah just joking, “Jin, I'm dropping out soon”, Whatever you just said just send Jin to a cardiac arrest. “Are you shitting me?” You can clearly see he's boiling up, “No, dad's gonna get busy with honeymoon soon and-” The punch was quick, you can follow it with your eyes but you decided to just let him land it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you. Like what on earth did you do in the last few months? You know what? I don't care, fix it and get your shit back together”, Thankfully he still has the composure to keep his voice down, of course that doesn't mean nobody saw the punch. “Oi, what the fuck are you two doing?” Ren and the rest came to you and broke up the ‘fight’. “Ask him”, Jin glared at me, “Guys, I will have to drop out of college soon”, Of course this news silences the whole room. “You're joking”, Of course, they knew the answer, “Fuck then what about this? This whole fucking shit was your idea”, Being a leader is kinda annoying huh? You see Jin just slips away from the room.

Jin's departure slammed the door on whatever fragile camaraderie remained. Their eyes, once alight with shared dreams, glinted with cold betrayal. You felt the weight of their judgement like a physical blow, the respect you'd meticulously cultivated crumbling to dust in their vacant stares. "Can I go out first?" you asked, your voice surprisingly steady. "I have somewhere to be. Wouldn't want to make things awkward."

Awkward. A woefully inadequate word for the gaping chasm that had opened between you and your creation. Your band, cobbled together from dreams and desperation, now resembled a wreckage, each member a splintered piece of the illusion you'd woven.

Their silence screamed volumes. The air, thick with unspoken accusations, tasted bitter on your tongue. You remembered the meticulous courtship, the careful promises whispered like sweet nothings. You'd scouted them out, these talented yet directionless souls, lured them in with visions of stardom and the clinking promise of tuition fees.

Brotherhood, you'd called it. A bond forged in sweat and ambition. But it was all a lie, a gilded cage you'd built with your ill-gotten gains. You, the puppeteer orchestrating their dreams, the benefactor playing God with their futures. And now, the strings had snapped. The music, once vibrant and hopeful, had devolved into a discordant dirge. You weren't their leader anymore, just a faded mirage revealed in the harsh light of betrayal. Letting them go, scattering them back into the indifferent arms of life, wasn't a decision, it was an acceptance. This band, this fleeting experiment, was never meant to be permanent. A hobby fueled by boredom and an insatiable need for control, it had run its course. “I wish you good luck”

The sobs ripped through her like a rogue storm, each tear a glistening shard of her fractured trust. Minji clung to you with the raw desperation of a shipwrecked sailor, her body shaking against yours like a fragile leaf in a hurricane. You felt the tremors of her pain coursing through you, a dissonance in the carefully orchestrated melody of your scheme. Yet, beneath the icy satisfaction, a twisted kind of admiration bloomed. This volcanic eruption of her emotions, this primal display of possessiveness, was the raw material you needed to forge your queen. Minji, in her shattered state, was closer to your vision than ever before.

Her questions, choked with tears and doubt, echoed in the room: "Was it all a charade? Am I not your only love? Was there… someone else?" Instead of flinching, you met her gaze head-on, your eyes pools of icy amusement. "Hush, now babe", you murmured, your voice a soothing balm against the rawness of her storm. "There's only you. You're the sun my world revolves around, the fire that ignites my soul…. That sounds so fucking cringe", Your futile attempt at humour has fail to lighten her moods.

“You know I only got you babe, now and forever. That's what we promised right? That's why you buy those books to guide you through these trying times”, Your words, laden with a seductive truthfulness, were carefully chosen arrows aimed at the target of her insecurities. You knew her weaknesses, the fault lines running deep within her heart. And you exploited them, not with malice, but with the precision of a sculptor moulding clay.

"Perhaps, it's time for me to come out in the open”, You continued, tracing comforting circles on her trembling back, "Whatever I've planned for you, it's for your own good babe. I love you, more than you love me. So the same way you want me to be the best version of myself for you, I wanted you to be the best version of yourself for me too. I'm sorry that I have to put you through this, but this, this little dance that we do, it excites me. It's all just a little trial, so that you can be the perfect girl for me. Should I stop this babe, or should I continue this, and turn you into the perfect”, You leaned closer to her ears, “Wife?” The question hung heavy in the air, a challenge veiled in promises. You saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, the battle between fear and ambition raging within her. But you knew, you just knew, that the monster in her hungered for more than just affection. She craved control, a throne beside yours, a kingdom to share in the spoils of your deceit.

"But there were whispers," she whimpered, clinging to the last shred of doubt. "Haewon… she said…" You silenced her with a gentle kiss, your lips a whispered promise on hers. "Haewon is a moth drawn to q flame, babe. A jealous girl who'll never understand the dance we share. You, Minji, are the one that I only ever cared about. I want you, to turn as corrupt, as degenerate, and as starved as I am. In the end there will be no one else but us”, As her sobs subsided, replaced by a cautious, flickering hope, you knew you had won. You had steered her fear towards ambition, her jealousy towards loyalty. Minji, the tigress, was slowly shedding her kitten fur, her claws unfurling with every whispered promise, every seductive truth.

“I have you, I only have you since day one oppa, why are you doing this to me? Did I not show you my love enough?” She felt betrayed, yet again, it's not like there's anything you can do to make her leave, whether you like it or not. “Because I love you. You love claiming me, you love having me in this little world of ours and you want me to never leave. Yet I can't stay here forever, I love people, I love the crowd, the attention, the adoration, I love it when I walk into a room and have everyone bow to me in respect. So I have to break you down first baby, so I can mould you, to the perfect queen for me. I'm sorry that I hurt you this much baby, I never meant to ruin you, all I want to do is show you, that this is who I am. I'm sorry okay, I really do, but I'm doing this for our own good”

Yeah that's not very convincing is it? Yet, you both know Minji can't step out of this anymore. Entrapped, by her own ‘love’ towards you, the "why" wasn't important anymore. The elaborate justifications, the convoluted games, all dissolved in the face of your shared truth. Perhaps you'd hoped for anger, for defiance, even for rejection, something that would add more fuel to the chaos you've made. But instead, Minji's silence was a balm to the burning truth you'd laid bare. It spoke of understanding, of a recognition that mirrored your own, a whispered acknowledgment that this twisted symphony they danced to was somehow their anthem.

Her fingers tightened around yours, a silent pact replacing the unspoken accusations. This wasn't submission, not surrender. It was a meeting point, a crossroads where their paths, both paved with shadows, intertwined into a single, storm-swept road. "You're insane”, she whispered, her voice a feather-light caress against your cheek, "but so am I. And maybe, in this broken world, that's enough”, You've done it, you turn her into an emo girl.

The statement, simple yet profound, hit you like a rogue wave. Her acceptance, so stark and unconditional, was the missing piece you hadn't known you craved. It felt like breathing after years of holding your breath, a rawness that simultaneously terrified and exhilarated you. Together, you sat in the quiet aftermath of your confessions, two sides of the same tainted coin, two halves of a whole sculpted from darkness. There would be no apologies, no promises of redemption, just the shared understanding that your dance, was theirs alone.

The silence that draped around you after your revelations wasn't heavy, but filled with future possibility. You scooped Minji up, cradling her close like a precious shard of the storm just weathered. In the hushed intimacy of the living room, bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, you revelled in the newfound solidity of the bond forged in the crucible of truth. Her body, still trembling from the emotional storm, fit perfectly against yours, a puzzle piece clicking into place. You felt the warmth of her breath against your neck, a whisper of shared understanding. Gone were the accusations, the hurt, replaced by a quiet confidence, a dark symphony now playing in unison.

As you gently settled onto the couch, your gaze fell upon the abandoned book splayed on the floor, a silent witness to the whirlwind that had just passed. It was the one she'd thrown in a fit of anger, its pages splayed open like a dissected butterfly.

During this you noticed her book lay abandoned on the coffee table, a silent testament to the storm that had just swept through your living room. Minji, nestled against you, breathing in your comforting scent, slowly she notices a foreign smell, a sickening feeling starts to well up inside her. Minji’s playful mood slowly evaporated, suddenly the air felt thick with the cloying sweetness of cheap Jasmine perfume. It felt heavy, clinging to you like a second skin. It wasn't her scent, not by a long shot. Her nose crinkled, a storm brewing behind her bright facade. The smell of an old rival, a ghost that you've promised her to be exorcised from your heart.

"Trust and communication?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "This author must have missed the chapter where husbands spend half the night glued to their phones and come back smelling of a cheap whore’s perfume instead of cologne”, Right, you forgot that Haewon almost embraced you earlier, which is enough for Minji's nose to pick up her scent. “Oh, this?" You chuckled, feigning nonchalance. "Just catching up with an old friend, sharing some stories. Nothing to worry about, sweetheart”, Minji has grown a little more, she notices that you didn't really try to lie, you want her to dig deeper, which she did.

Minji jumped onto your lap, grabbing your face, she bared her claws, digging into your cheek, her voice turning steely. "Sharing stories, huh? And sharing something else too, it seems. Tell me, babeee, does your 'friend' always wear perfume that smells like a used cleaning cloth?" The playful facade crumbled. You saw the hurt flickering in her eyes, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. Haewon's scent, a careless residue from a fleeting encounter, felt like a betrayal etched into the air. Minji, a defiant queen waiting for her answer, you smiled seeing this sight, such a beauty isn't she?

The playfulness was gone, replaced by a simmering intensity as Minji’s claws traced angry lines on your cheek. Her voice, sharp as broken glass, sliced through the tension-laden air. "Used cleaning cloth, huh? That's new”, A little smile forms on your face which you hide with your hand. “A fucking street whore throwing herself on to you at any moment possible. How is she there? You said she won't come”, Shame and remorse were strangers to you at this moment. This wasn't a confession dripping with guilt, it was a calculated provocation, a lit match tossed into the tinderbox of Minji's emotions. Every word, every flinch, was a brushstroke in the grand masterpiece you were composing.

"It wasn't like that," you began, your voice a feigned sigh of exasperation. "She was there at the performance, completely unexpected. We talked..." The air crackled with her disbelief. "Talked, you say?" Minji echoed, her eyes boring into yours like twin lasers. "And did this 'talk' involve her whispering sweet things on to you as you FUCKED HER behind my back?" The lie you'd woven about Haewon's absence evaporated in the crucible of her gaze. Denials would be futile, a flimsy curtain against the hurricane of her suspicion. So, you embraced the storm, your voice steady as you plunged into the icy waters of truth. "She said... she might be pregnant”, You admitted, your eyes carefully preyed upon her brewing madness.

The revelation hit Minji like a rogue wave. The fire in her eyes flickered momentarily, replaced by a chilling mix of shock and something akin to... fear. The claws digging into your skin relaxed, leaving behind crimson trails, a testament to the tempest that had just raged within her. Silence descended, the air thick with the weight of your confession. This wasn't just a betrayal of trust, it was a detonator, threatening to blow apart the twisted kingdom you'd built with Minji. But the tigress was no damsel in distress.

She pushed herself off your lap, her movements sharp and controlled. Her gaze, unwavering, held a cocktail of emotions - hurt, anger, and a flicker of something darker, something predatory.

Minji's claws retracted, not in defeat, but in a shift in focus. The fire in her eyes, previously aimed at you, burned brighter now, honed to a singular point – Haewon. The scent of the cheap perfume, no longer a mere annoyance, became a tangible object of her ire, a crimson flag planted in the territory of their twisted kingdom. "Pregnant, you say?" She echoed, her voice a low snarl, each word dripping with venom. "So, she saunters into your life, throws her cheap wares around, and now wants to play house with stolen goods?” You merely laughed at her oversight, “Babe, we just broke up like a month ago, maybe less, there's a chance it was from before you and me even a thing”, That's true, but in Minji's mind, you are her, regardless of the timeline.

The silence hung heavy in the air, a poison dart that had struck Minji right in the heart. That word, pregnant, rings countless times in her ears. Haewon, that vapid, spiteful creature, pregnant with what might be your child. Minji's claws, retracted a moment ago, dug back into your cheek, this time not in anger, but in a desperate attempt to anchor herself in this dizzying reality. "A month ago?" she breathed, her voice a fractured whisper. "You're mine oppa, I don't care if it's a month ago or a year ago, she stole you from me", The proclamations hung heavy, a storm brewing behind her fiery eyes. You met her gaze, a dark smile playing on your lips. "Alright, babe", you purred, your voice laced with a dangerous calm. "You and your... melodrama. But Haewon is just a little bump in our way, a fleeting distraction, a moth drawn to the flame only to get singed."

The truth, twisted and barbed, hung between you. A month ago, Haewon had been a convenient plaything, a diversion in the intoxicating madness that was Minji. But pregnant? That shifted the game in ways you hadn't anticipated, adding a delicious layer of chaos to the symphony you were composing. Minji, however, saw only one thing – threat. Haewon, not as a rival, but as a permanent stain on their twisted tapestry. The tigress within her reared its head, a guttural growl escaping her throat.

"Erase her," she hissed, her eyes blazing with a fire you found strangely beautiful. "Erase her from your life, from your thoughts, from every goddamn molecule of your body”, The possessiveness in her voice, the raw need to claim you as her own, sent a thrill down your spine. This, this was the Minji you craved, the one consumed by the flames of your twisted love, the one willing to dance on the edge of destruction for a taste of your dark symphony.

You leaned in, your breath ghosting over her ear. "That, my love”, You murmured, your voice dripping with seductive promise, "is precisely what we'll do. Together."

The pregnancy, that tangled mess of Haewon's moves, became the fuel for your shared purpose. Each whispered plan, each strategic strike against her rival, was a brushstroke in the masterpiece they were co-creating. Minji, fueled by righteous fury, became your partner-in-crime, her darkness mirroring your own in a mesmerising spectacle of shared chaos. You orchestrated a subtle but ruthless campaign, chipping away at Haewon's life until she was nothing but a hollow shell, clinging to a phantom hope. It wasn't just about erasing her, it was about painting Minji's name on your soul in bold, defiant strokes.

With each act of vengeance, Minji shed the last vestiges of the playful tigress, evolving into something darker, more primal. The pleasure you derived from it wasn't morbid, it was aesthetic. You were a sculptor, moulding her fury into a weapon, her possessiveness into a shield, her desire for you into an inferno that threatened to consume them both. In the flickering shadows of your twisted kingdom, where trust was a forgotten language and loyalty a weapon, you watched Minji blossom into the queen you always knew she could be. Her anger, once directed at you, had morphed into a shared crusade, a twisted tango where Haewon was the unwitting victim.

Exhaustion tugged at you like a riptide, pulling you under the velvet waves of sleep. You dragged Minji to bed, and in one quick sweep the fatigue almost took your consciousness away as soon as you dropped to the bed. Minji, however, remained a restless reef, sharp and jagged against your soft shore. The air still crackled with the aftershocks of Haewon's bomb, casting a long shadow of uncertainty over your twisted Eden. You tumbled into slumber, but it was a shallow haven, riddled with thoughts and plans for the final act you've set up. Minji, sensing your vulnerability, clung to you like a vine to a crumbling wall, desperate to anchor herself in the shifting landscape of your emotions.

As the night wore on, your sleep became a battlefield. Minji, a whirlwind of possessive fervour, left a trail of love bites across your skin – branding you with her claim, etching her name in the flesh you offered up as a canvas. Each mark, a crimson sigil in the flickering lamplight, whispered a silent declaration: "Mine” of course, she's very vocal about it as well. “You're mine oppa, I'm not letting any whore touch you again”, And, “That bitch won't be a problem anymore oppa, I'll make sure of it”, and some more monologue that tug you away from the warm embrace of rest. You stirred, half-awake, half-lost in the tangled web of sleep and desire. Minji's lips, hot and demanding, trailed a fiery path down your throat, her touch a desperate plea for reassurance, for ownership. You yielded, not unwillingly, but with a detached amusement. Her anxiety was your aphrodisiac, her possessiveness a twisted mirror reflecting your own desires.

The lovemaking was a dance of shadows, bodies entwined in a desperate quest for solace and control. Minji, no longer the playful tigress, was a predator defending her territory, marking her prey with the fierce beauty of her claws. And you, the ever-enigmatic maestro, conducted this dark symphony with a languid smile, your own desires veiled in a mist of shadows and calculated intent.

You closed your own eyes, the taste of her possessiveness lingering on your tongue. Sleep beckoned again, this time deeper, darker, pregnant with the promise of chaos. For in the kingdom of your twisted love, dawn was not a symbol of renewal, but a prelude to the next act, a twisted tango where trust was a weapon, passion a battlefield, and every bite, every mark, a declaration of war against the ghosts of yesterday and the uncertainties of tomorrow.

“Yeah, so what do I do now?” You are talking with your dad, about Haewon of course. “You got someone pregnant, to be honest I'm surprised it took you this long”, You can't argue with that one, “It's not my fault okay? She refused to take the pills”, Yes, you have contacted Haewon again, under the supervision of Minji, and she has taken a pregnancy test and shows that she's pregnant. “You know what you want to do already”, His eyes pierced through your deception, “Yes”, Moral is, a flimsy concept you like to dance around with, of course this trait is something you've gotten from your dad. “Is she rich?” You shake your head, “Does Minji know about this?” You nodded which made him frown.

“It would be troublesome if she finds out about your plan wouldn't it?” You shake your head again before telling him what transpired between you and Minji. Just the main part, the fact that she is just downright insane and obsessed with you, of course you take no blame for her transformation. “I knew you were a bad influence on her”, He's your dad, he knows your mind okay? “I plead innocence”, Do you have the right to do that? “Denied, we'll talk about that later. For now, deal with your ex, do what you must”, That's all you need to hear.

“Thanks dad, you're such a great father”, He doesn't even bother acknowledging your sarcastic remark as he leaves the house. Then Minji scurry off from the next room and jump to your lap. “Does he say yes?” She has such an innocent excitement on her, “Yes babe, we will ruin Haewon's life”, Which is so fucked up since the two of you are planning to rip apart Haewon. “Great, finally”, She nuzzled up to you, “I need to talk with Mina”, She immediately raised her head hearing a girl's name. “Who is that?” The new Minji isn't scared to bare her fang anytime she needs to, “Dad's assistant, also my mentor for the internship I have”, You pulled out your phone only for her to immediately snatch it away.

"Funny”, She breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, "you never mentioned her before”, The accusation hung heavy in the air, a barb aimed at your perceived deception. You could have easily backpedalled, spun a web of lies to appease her, but something rebellious stirred within you. This wasn't the Minji of old, the one who accepted your every word as gospel. This was a new Minji, born from the ashes of Haewon's betrayal, a tigress who demanded truth, who wouldn't hesitate to tear through the shadows if you dared to hide in them.

You could almost hear the gears in her mind turning, suspicion and jealousy swirling like a storm cloud. You weren't afraid, not in the slightest. This was just another act in your twisted play, a minor inconvenience that fueled the fire of her possessiveness. "Just a colleague, babe”, You drawled, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Helping me out with the internship”, You tried to take your phone back but she refuses to let go, "Conveniently absent from your usual repertoire", she quipped, her eyes gleaming with challenge.

You couldn't help but chuckle, a low rumble that vibrated through your chest. "Mina's not part of the story, darling. She's only a little cameo in our story, and I need her to finish our plans, so may I have my phone back?" The truth, of course, was more complex. Mina was a pawn in your twisted game, a piece to be moved across the board to elicit a specific reaction from Minji. Now that Haewon is being removed from the picture, you need a new doll, and Mina would be perfect for that. Minji's jealousy, a predictable yet volatile element, was the accelerant you needed to feed Mister Hyde.

But the act of pretending, of downplaying Mina's significance, was its own reward. The flicker of annoyance in Minji's eyes, the subtle tightening of her jaw, was a delicious confirmation of your power, of your ability to manipulate her emotions like a puppet with strings. "Oh, really?" Minji's voice dripped with scepticism. "Then why the secrecy, maestro? Why not introduce me to this… mentor of yours?" The challenge was implicit. A dare, a test of your commitment to this twisted game. You met her gaze, a mischievous glint in your own eyes.

"Fine, if you insist", You shrugged, a feigned sigh escaping your lips. "But be warned, babe, Mina's a bit… bland. Not something you would have fun meeting with”, So rude, however Mina is a silent type that just can't get along with you. You don't mind introducing her, you knew it would pique Minji's interest, fuel the embers of her competitive spirit. Minji thrived on being the centre of your attention, the object of your desire. Introducing a rival, even a fabricated one, was simply adding fuel to the fire.

“Mina, meet Minji, my new sister”, You stare Mina down, her pale figure seeming to shimmer in the shadows. Her delicate features, framed by dark raven hair, held the same unnerving stillness you once found captivating in Haewon. But Mina lacked the fiery edge, the malicious spark that burned beneath Haewon's surface. This one was a blank canvas, a porcelain doll waiting to be painted in the twisted hues of your desire.

The word sister in the air, a deliberate bomb dropped into the simmering tension. Minji, mid-sip of her wine, froze, her eyes flashing emerald fire. Sister? The possessive glint in them was replaced by a flicker of suspicion, the tigress sniffing out the absurdity of your claim. But before Minji could unleash her trademark hiss, you added another twist, your lips curling into a smirk. "And of course, my girlfriend, as well.” The room descended into an icy silence. Minji's jaw clenched, the wine glass held hostage between her white-knuckled fingers. Mina, however, remained unfazed. Her porcelain face flickered not even an inch, her gaze as detached as ever.

Minji, stare at you silently, “Don't you dare play this game with me”, You met her fury with a calm smile, enjoying the spectacle of her controlled outrage. "But babe", You purred, leaning closer, "It's only the truth. We may not share any blood but our name will be united soon, twisted to a lovely yet scandalous romance story”, You smiled innocently as you kissed Minji's cheek. “Twisted indeed”, Mina didn't even blink, her glacial eyes reflecting nothing but a cold amusement. “Sister and girlfriend, huh?" she finally drawled, her voice a silken blade. "Sounds like you've upgraded your moral compass from rusty to non-existent. Quite the family reunion, you'll be having soon sir", The barb stung, but you merely chuckled. You craved Mina's bluntness, her ability to pierce through your carefully constructed facade. Her lack of filter nor decency to not curse her own boss is something you always value the most.

“Come on now Mina, we're in love, haven't you ever felt young love before?” Her silent gaze answered it, “Don't make fun of our relationship, this bond is deeper than what you will understand”, Minji scoffed at Mina. "Oh, I bet," Mina drawled, her glacial gaze flitting between you and Minji. "Deeper than a Mariana Trench trench of red flags, perhaps? Incestuous entanglements spiced with a dash of public manipulation? Should I order a book called 'Ethics for Dummies' to fill your office bookshelf so that it can comfortably be placed alongside the other books you've never read before sir?” Quite the feisty one isn't she?

“Come on Mina, we're in a dog eat dog kind of world, nobody cares about this arrangement”, You shrugged, “Dogs with a penchant for family therapy, it seems”, She eyed Minji who just glared at her. “So my kind and ever so humble sir, is this 'sister-girlfriend' arrangement the only reason why I'm here? I believe I am quite a bad therapist, however if you do insist I do have a basic common sense so I believe I can manage”, You can't help but laugh, Mina is not a firecracker, she's an ice cold equivalent of that.

“I have some issue to deal with, I believe dad has told you the details?” She shakes her head, “Of course, I expected that as well”, She doesn't even react, why do you even bother trying to fish some kind of reaction from her? Oh right, it's not her reaction you're fishing for, “Stop being such a flirt”, It's Minji's. “First of all, I had some complications, you see my ex has been found to be pregnant”, Oh, you got a little tug on the fishing line, Mina let out a little chuckle. “How many of them sir?” You laughed as you shook your head. “So blunt, it's just one Mina. And the problem is, she doesn't want to deal with this quietly”, Finally, some reaction from Mina, she tilted her head with some ‘amusement’ in her eyes.

“And?” You don't really want to answer Mina do you? In order to see your progress you need to see Minji take the initiative and spearhead this whole operation. “I want her dead”, There she goes, they grow up so fast don't they? “So crude, but how could I judge after the brother-sister relationship you two are having?” There is one elephant in the room, a question you really want to hear Mina answer. “Does dad deal with this kind of problem too?” She has no reaction at all, yet there's sudden understanding between the two of you that you happily acknowledge.

“What was that?” Of course Minji doesn't appreciate it, she doesn't see what you see in Mina's eyes but she can definitely tell something is up just by looking at you.

“Nothing, Mina come here”, Minji grabbed your arm and stood up with you, “Baby I need some time to talk okay?” That's a pathetic attempt and you know it. “I'm coming with you”, The queens demand it, are you gonna disobey your queen? “Just wait here okay? We'll be right by the door”, Her eyes burned through your skull to send you her ultimatum. “Thank you baby”, You gave her a kiss as she sat back down, Mina followed you to the corner of the room, completely disregarding Minji's presence. “Quite the specimen you had there sir, is she as morally corrupt as you?” Mina taunted you, “Not really corrupt, just, different. Anyway she's a psycho and she wants Haewon dead due to jealousy”, Mina had this very small and almost unnoticeable gloating in her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Don't act like you're free from the crossfire, look at the way she looks at you right now”, Minji's eyes are hollow and devoid of life.

“I am completely aware sir”, Mina said without turning to Minji, “So, I need you to make Haewon disappear, but not just that. I need you to make her death to be, ambiguous at best. Is that possible?” Mina silently stare at you, this time you can't seem to grasp what's in her mind. “Making people disappear without trace is possible, however I need some more explanation on how ambiguous you want it to be”, Should you tell her why? “Just, make sure that her body is never found. Minji is paranoid and has been thinking that I might have some reluctance to this whole operation. So it would be nice if Haewon's disappearance is all clouded in mystery. No missing person report, no dead body found, no trace of her disappearances or death”, Mina just shook her head. “That's our normal procedure for this sir”, Of course it is, how could you miss this part of the orientation. “Right, well sorry Mina it's my first time doing this okay?” She still looks at you with some disappointment before walking back to the table.

You just sighed and joined back with Minji, “So? How long?” Minji said impatiently, “2 weeks, it will be finished by 2 weeks, now if there's nothing else for me I'll leave you two for your family therapy”, Did Mina just make some porn jokes? “Well, that's all for now Mina, thank you for coming here”, Mina nodded before she stood up and left the house.

“So, what did you two talk about?” Minji said, ‘calmly’. “Haewon's parents, I felt for them, they're good people”, She slapped you for that. “They raised a whore”, Can't argue with that can't you? “Don't be too anxious now baby, I'm sure they never expected her to be like this. Now, we need some shopping for our parent's marriage, I was thinking about red as our matching colour”, She looks at you with some distrust but she nod, “No, let's wear something white, it's also signify our union”, Maybe Mina is right, you need some family therapy.

“Sweetie, do you really have to wear some white dress?” Minji nods her head showing her determination, “You said that oppa and I can't have any official marriages so I want to at least have some resemblance to a wedding”, Your mom can only sigh in defeat dealing with this new Minji. “Here I thought you don't like being with people, this dress will put a lot of eyes on you, you know”, Yet there's still some happiness in her heart seeing jee daughter has finally broken out of her cocoon. “I don't mom, but oppa does and I will tolerate people for him”, Your mom smiled at her new daughter.

“Such a good wife”, Minji blushed a little hearing that from her own mom, “So, has that ex of his has been taken care off?” Minji frowned upon hearing that, “No, it's in one week and oppa has been keeping secrets from me again”, You can't just let Haewon die off screen can't you? “He's such a troublemaker isn't he? Sometimes I wonder if he's actually his father's son”, You are, your father has the same level of moral corruption but he causes less chaos than you. “I'm losing my mind mom, I loved him more than anything in the world and I want him to love me back as much as I do”, Despite her growth, there's still some childish innocence within Minji.

“Sweetie, life isn't a novel, sometimes all you can do is compromise. Your brother is a maniac with some split personality and you are an obsessed child who's guarding him like a dragon to its trophy. You both make compromise for each other, and sometimes that's good enough”

Minji frowned and couldn't comprehend how much you compromised for her, it's not that many to be fair. “I still don't like it, why does he have to be secretive about everything? I just want him to be open to me, is that so hard?” Minji just sinked her head into her mom's embrace. “Oh sweetie, if he's so secretive and you don't like it, maybe you should find someone else?” Minji immediately pulled away from the embrace. “Are you crazy mom?” Her mom just laughed and shrugged. “All I'm saying is, if he's not the one for you then find someone else. If you don't want to, then you need to change as well”, Minji sighed. “I want to change, I want to be able to pick apart his lies like he was a book I've read a thousand times. I need time for that mom, and until then I can only swallow my jealousy and study him”

Your mom took Minji to a hug, “Listen baby, I'm happy that you have grown like this. I would support you with all my heart, but I put your father over you from now on”, That's pretty fucking hard isn't it? “So if he breaks my heart you won't do anything?” Minji scoffed, “No, I would be furious, but I won't do anything to make my husband sad, you know how it is”, Like mother like daughter. “Fine, but I won't take this much longer, I need help in making sure that whore is dead”, Minji is making move my man, “I see, I'll see what I can do”, This does put Minji in a much more relaxed state, at least for the wedding. “Now, smile and have fun, it's your mother's wedding day”

“You're such a problematic child”, Always nice hearing your father losing his patience with you isn't it? “Thanks dad”, You smiled happily, “Whatever, hopefully that Haewon girl won't be the death of you. Mina said her family is quite influential and she is gonna need some extra time”, You frowned upon hearing that, some extra time might cause, unpredictable behaviour for Minji. “Yeah, what can you do? '' Unpredictability is just some fun in your book anyway. “If this marriage ceremony goes to shit just so you know your mom will kill you”, You don't, but it's nice of your father to tell you that.

“It won't dad, now come on it's your wedding day, smile”, He slapped your head, “Yeah thanks dad I'll be outside mingling with the guests”, You fixed your hair for a moment, “Don't cause trouble”, You shrugged without promising him anything. As you get to the venue you start mingling with your dad's business partners. Taking control of the room as you dance along to this social event. Time feels blurry for you as you keep jumping from conversation to conversation. Joining every circle like you belong there before leaving to join another one. This is your playground, you thrive in this place, yet, it feels old, meeting the same face again and again.

Then you look at Minji, coming into the venue, grabbing everyone's attention. Your gaze locked with hers and you sent her a smile. Walking towards her you can see she's imitating her mother's cold aura, although it's weak but it sends the signal that she's not talking to anyone. “You look great Min”, You smiled as you walked up to her, “Thank you oppa, you look great as well”, She smiled happily. “Now, I want to go around meeting your mother's business partners and introduce myself. Hopefully you're ready to just stand there and smile as I socialise okay?” She sighed feeling disappointed, she already expected that you wanted to do that, but she still felt disappointed.

“Okay oppa, lead the way”, Minji sighed, the sound barely audible, but her grip on your arm tightened ever so slightly. She knew the drill, the silent agreement you'd forged in this twisted love of yours. In public, you were brother and sister, an enviable pair navigating the gilded cages of high society. In private, you were something else entirely – something more, passionate and throughly fucked up.

With Minji clinging to your arm like a silent shadow, you began your calculated waltz through the traps of guests. Each introduction, each handshake, was a performance, a tune in the masterpiece you were co-creating. You revelled in the way your mother's associates fawned over you, their surprise of your confidence and eloquence while their eyes were seizing you for any possible threats. This battlefield is nothing but a source of distraction you forced upon Minji so she can take her mind off Haewon.

Minji, though quiet, was not simply a passive observer. Her icy gaze darted through the crowd, missing nothing. She noted the way women's eyes lingered on you, the envy simmering beneath their painted smiles, the subtle unease you evoked in certain men. She is your queen, even in silence, her claws hidden, her loyalty fierce. “You two look practically inseparable," one woman cooed to another, her eyes flitting between you and Minji. "Like siblings from birth”, You laughed at her comment as Minji felt tremor through her body, her grip tightened on your arm as she put on a forced smile. “Well, what do you think sis? Maybe we are separated from birth”, You laughed, Minji internally cringed the moment you called her sis, “It wouldn't change anything would it?” Such a brazen comment, perhaps even if the two of you are blood connected she would still go after you.

After a while the ceremony finally starts, you and Minji happily sit at the front, side by side watching your parents being united. Her hand stealthily grabbed yours and intertwined your finger together. As your mother reads her vow you can hear Minji speak those vows underneath her breath, audible only to you. You can't help but laugh hearing this desperate plea from her, and as soon as your father read his vows you did the same thing. “I do”, you're not sure if you heard your mom or Minji say that, “I do”, You said as well the moment your father said it.

Seeing your parents kissing signifying their union you can feel Minji get restless, she wants to kiss you as well. Your parents smiled at the two of you, then Minji just pulled you away from the ballroom as the crowd was cheering for your parents. “So eager already?” You laughed as you followed Minji and brought you to a secluded dressing room. The crowd noise sounds distant and muffled, Minji locked the door before jumping on to you, pressing her lips to yours. Her body is pushing you to the wall as all her desire burns out of her body. “You're my husband now oppa”, A silent declaration in this empty room, is that how your wedding goes? “Baby, I want something a little more…… well more. But okay, we can pretend I'm your fiancé now”, That would suffice for Minji.

Her hands immediately grabbed your shirt and started unbuttoning it, “I want you oppa, we haven't had sex in the last 3 days because of this stupid rehearsal”, She growled before jumping in and biting your collarbone. “So naughty, you want to walk around our parent's marriage with my cum in your stomach?” Perhaps the fact that you said ‘our parents’ is already weird, no? “Those fucking girls, looking at you with lust, those old hags trying to sell you their daughters. I HATE THEM”, She yelled before biting down your neck. “That's gonna leave a mark”, You sighed before undressing your own sister. Unlike Minji you are doing it very gently, making sure you don't ruin her dress.

“Now there babe, don't ruin my pants please, I want to keep it clean”, She scoffed at you but thankfully she pulled your pants off gently. As soon as she pulled out your cock she immediately swallowed it whole. Minji has turned into a throat god as she has been milking you everytime you want to go out. “Fuck Minji, calm down there”, You groaned feeling how eager her tongue is moving. Her gag reflex is all gone as your cock easily passed her mouth into her throat. You can see your cock bulging through her little neck which is very hot. Her eyes look at you with a demanding look asking you to use her mouth like a toy.

You put both hands on her head, “Ready?” Useless question, she was born ready. Immediately you started to fuck her face mercilessly. Wet sloppy noise can be heard as she starts to drool on your cock. Her eyes start to water, ruining her mascara, such a beautiful sight. “Fuck your throat felt so good, sis”, That sounds so wrong yet so hot. Minji grabbed on your thighs for stability as you continued rocking her head up and down. Your hand went to slap her cheek making her let out a moan as you continued pounding her face. Feeling a little bad for her neck you stop moving her head, your hand held her hair gently before you moved your hips instead.

“Fuck you're si fucking hot when you're like this Mini”, Ruined mascara, red cheek from your slaps and eyes rolled to the back of her head, she look so helpless. Minji loves when she's being used as your doll, being a little submissive girl just to serve her oppa. That's all she ever wanted, and also cutting off any girl who tried to talk to you. Looking down you can see her pussy starts to drip some liquid on the floor, “You like this sis? Being used like a toy?” You slapped her face again making her let out a loud moan as her leg started to squirm. “Fuck you're such a slut, I'm fucking cumming”, You shove it down to her throat as you pressed her head deeper into your crotch, your cock sprays down it's sperm down her throat into her stomach. You can hear her let out a scream as her leg starts to shake from an orgasm she's having.

Once you're done you let go of her hair and pull out your cock, Minji lay down on the floor panting hard as she felt like she might pass out soon. “Hey, you're tired already”, You laughed taunting her, “No, come on oppa, just fuck me already oppa”, She whined as her finger starts to prepare her pussy for you. “Don't need to tell me twice”, You laughed before laying down on her, your cock slipped into her pussy with ease, her pussy is already moulded to accommodate for your length. Your hand rests on her hips holding it tightly as you start to rock back and forth. “Ohhhhh fuck oppaaa”, Her moans echoes through the empty room as you starts to pick up your pace.

Minji's hand grabbed on to your back as her nails started to dig into it, “You're so big oppa”, Knowing full well the best way to arouse you is by stroking your ego. Your hip continues pounding her making a rhythmic slapping noise that fills up the whole room. Soon you can see her body starting to squirm and her nails starting to carve your back. “Cum oppa, pleaseeee”, She can't take it much longer, and her whimpering noises are music to your ears. You grabbed her body, forcing her to stand up and turn her body around. She leaned to the wall for support as you started to pound her from behind. “Ahhhh, oppa”, She moaned as you slapped her ass, “You like that you perv?” You laughed as you slapped her again.

“Oppa, please cum already”, Minji whined as she tried to hold her own orgasm. Your hand grabbed her hair into a ponytail gently before pulling her roughly. “Cum for me baby, I want to hear you scream”, Your other hand wrapped around her and pinched her nipple. You pushed deeper and harder, your hips crashed into hers, making every inch of Minji’s body shake and quake in pleasure until she felt her pussy explode with a mindblowing orgasm that forced her to collapse into the wall. The pounding did not stop with her orgasm, not even in the slightest.

“I'm gonna fill this tight pussy up", You yelled as your hand gripped her hips and buried yourself balls deep inside her pussy. "Fuck, give it to me, cum in my pussy oppa" She yelled as her orgasm is still going on. Minji felt hot sticky ball batter streaming into her womb as you gripped her throat and choked her, laying over her back with beads of sweat pouring onto her hot body. Your ball emptying everything it has deep into her as Minji felt every twitch your cock is having inside her pussy. As the ecstasy passed you let go of her hand and she slumped down on the wall and sat on the floor, looking up to you with a helpless eye. Then she moves closer to you and starts to clean your cock from any sperm that still sticks on to it.

“Good girl”, You pat her head making her smile proudly, she kissed the tip of your cock as she finished her job before standing up to hug you. “I really want more oppa”, She whined, “That would be unwise baby, we still have a party to attend”, She clicked her tongue before looking at you with fiery eyes, “Once we're home we're gonna fuck and lock ourselves in the bedroom for three days”, Sounds like a challenge, “Okay baby, now go get dressed okay?” You kissed her cheek.

Thankfully her dress isn't ruined by any means, however your shirt was absolutely stained and ruffled by her earlier. “Thank god I brought some back up outfit”, Of course this is gonna happen, you expected this already. “Then let's go sneak back to the changing room oppa, I'm not ready to follow you back to the party”, You haphazardly used your shirt and tried to hide the stains with the blazer you're wearing. Then you and Mini stealthily get back into the dressing room where you change your outfit to a turtleneck and long overcoat. “You're sure you're not cold with that dress babe? It's pretty cold right now, you know?” You said as you fix your hair.

“Hmmmm, I want your coat oppa”, She tried to pull it off of you. “Oh no way lady, if you were more gentle with my blazer earlier I would've given you this. But now that you fucked that one up with your sweat I only have this coat”, She frowned hearing your rejection. That would be perfect for her, the blazer actually isn't totally ruined. There's some little wet spot in it and that's pretty much it. Minji pridefully wore it before posing in the mirror. Thankfully for her, her face would be enough distraction to make sure people didn't realise the little wet spot on the blazer. “Thank you oppa”, She smiled brightly, it's pretty obvious, she want to wear it as a warning for everyone.

“You two are so cute together, are you sure you're just siblings?” The effect is noticeable from your first encounter, “Please, we are also business partner, isn't that right Minji?” You smiled at Minji. “Of course, as the only child for each of our parents we've been taught to take our parent's company, now that they're married we have made an agreement to make sure some inheritance drama wouldn't happen”, Even Minji felt much more confident and chatty while she's wearing your blazer. “Ahhhh, hopefully you don't learn too much from your brother, otherwise you might start to get a lot of suitors soon”, Minji getting flirted on by other guys? Wouldn't that be….. an interesting way to play around with her obsession.

After chatting around for a while you went to the bathroom to just chill around from all the socialising you've been doing. Walking back to the venue however, you find a very interesting view. Minji is talking to a guy, young, a little short, very handsome. You stay silent and just watch her as she hasn't noticed your return just yet. The word talking is very loosely used to describe their interactions. The guy seems very adamant to try and get Minji to talk, yet Minji just smiled and laughed here and there without saying anything to him. Even a blind guy can see that she's highly uncomfortable with his presence.

Then you see him slip something into her hand before walking away. Minji tried to open it before seeing you are watching her. She immediately ran up to you, “It took you so long”, She said seemingly forgotten about the earlier interaction. “Oh I was here for a while now, but you were busy with your friend so I was just watching”, Your eyes travel to the thing he slipped earlier, it seems to be a piece of paper. She also realised she was holding something, she threw it to the ground but you're fast enough to catch it. “Ohhhh? Isn't this interesting”, Just as expected, it was a phone number, “You should keep this Min”, You smiled trying to put on an angry smile as you gave it back to her.

Her face was filled with guilt and disbelief as you handed her the paper, “No I don't want it”, She crumpled it up before throwing it to a nearby trash can, she missed by the way. “Why not? You two seem to get along very well aren't you?” Her body is shaking as her eyes get teary, dear god it's so easy to tease her. “I'm not cheat-”, You immediately closed her mouth to make sure she didn't finish screaming that sentence. “Don't make a scene, and I need to talk with dad, so wait here”, You gave her an annoyed smile before walking away.

Minji stays silent watching the wall, her hands tightened her grip and her nail sinks into her palm. You let her marinate in her own anger as you met your mom and dad. “Did you two have a fight already?” Your dad sighed, “Oh no, I was just teasing her”, Your mom looked at you with squinted eyes. “Sweetie, don't make a scene, also next time please try to find a more secure place to fuck, some people can hear you earlier”, Do you care? Does your parents care? “We do care if our special day is gonna be remembered as the start of a nasty rumour for your little endeavours”, Your dad easily read your expression. “Come on now, nothing gonna happen, nobody will know”, The two of them gave you a synced dissatisfied glare. “Okay, we won't be doing any of that, anyway me and Minji gonna go home earlier today okay”, You smiled innocently. “You should go home now”, Your mom said, “That would be bad sweetie, people will start to talk. Go home in an hour, and just sit on the balcony with Minji”, You bow your head in an exaggerated manner to them before walking off to the balcony.

Your eyes scanned the ballroom to see Minji is standing near the corner, her eyes filled with the void as she stares at the guy from earlier. “My sister is my girlfriend, and she's a psycho”, You laughed to yourself before finding Mina. She looks at you the moment you look at her, because she's creepy like that. You gestured to her to come and she silently joined you at the balcony. “Why the fuck are you asking for more time? Don't you always say that you can work efficiently”, She raised her eyebrow for a moment, “It's entertaining to see you panicking sir”, You just laughed at her. “It's amusing isn't it? Look at her, so innocent yet so corrupted already”, You nod at Minji who's watching you now.

“She is, how nice of you to find new toys to play with sir. I'm afraid I might be put in the crossfire now, aren't I?” You nod, Mina doesn't seem to be annoyed or angry about it. “I want to talk to her, Haewon”, What the fuck is wrong with you? Mina looks at you silently before speaking up, “I would say these are easy to manage, however I have a suspicion that you want to talk to her in person and not through a call”, You nod making her sigh. “I'll see what I can do sir”, She left you immediately without saying anything. You glance at Minji who's just staring at you with anger, disdain, guilt and jealousy.

Then she walks to her mom, your mom, you watch them talk for a while before she walks to you. “I'm gonna kill him”, You're not really sure if that quick of an ending would be fun, “Me?” She shakes her head. “The guy who gave me his number. I'm gonna kill him, for you, to prove that I'm not cheating on you”, You giggled for a second. “I was just teasing you baby, don't get so worked up”, She moves closer to you which you immediately stop. “People are watching Minji, we can't just start kissing out here”, her face frowning even deeper. The two of you stay quiet for a while, she just stares at the floor, her shaking Jody tells you she's trying not to cry. “Let's go home, let's talk to mom and dad and say our goodbye before we go home”, She nodded without looking at you.

“Mom, dad, we are going home. Minji is feeling sick”, You put your hand around your sister as she's still looking down, “Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”, Your dad sighed. “That's quite long dad”, He shake his head, “I can't deal with you anymore. That's it you're out of college from now on, you make her this way you're fixing her”, You see Minji immediately raised her head. “There's nothing to fix, right mom?” You smiled innocently, “He's right dear, my dear Minji is perfect, it's your son that's the problem here”, Your dad nodded. “You're fixing your nasty personality as well. The two of you will be going to a couple therapy”, Don't say it, don't say it, “A family therapy?” The three of them clicked their tongue and rolled their eyes. “Alright see you later mom, dad, don't look for us for the next week okay?” You winked at them before leaving.

On the way home Minji starts to kiss your neck out of anxiety, “What are you doing?” She just moans and continues biting your neck. “Hey, stop that”, She scowls and stops biting your neck, but she continues hugging you. “I will make sure nobody dares to come to me again, oppa. I'm sorry, please don't be mad”, Her apology was sincere, her anger towards that random guy is also sincere. “I was just teasing you back then so calm down. Also you should just leave him alone, his family can get cranky if something happens to him”, She frowned and nodded. This however, is a turning point for Minji, as she disregards your words and goes behind your back.

“Minji”, You sighed while glaring at her, *What's wrong oppa?” She smiled innocently as she kissed your cheek. “Did you kill him? After I told you to leave him alone?” She just shrugged before hugging you, “I don't know who you're talking about”, An innocent smile plastered on her face. You stare at her for a few moments as she continues kissing your neck. “I don't appreciate your disobedience Minji”, You frowned at her, “Oh don't be such a party pooper, I did it for you remember?” You sighed. Of course there's nothing you can do now, you reap what you sow after all.

“I need to go today, I have a business meeting to follow dad so don't make any trouble”, You decide to drop the subject for now, “Okay, don't come back home late oppa. Don't flirt with any girls okay?” She kissed your cheek before happily walking back to her bed. Something is up, she's been pretty calm after the wedding yet she has never been this calm. You went to meet your dad anyway, what's the worst that could happen? “What are you distracted with?” Your father immediately sees through you. “Minji is being off again, can you tell mom to watch over her?” He shook his head, “I swear to god the two of you are gonna drive me mad. Fine, I'll make her take care of her, now go and be ready for your presentation”, You leave Minji in the back of your mind for now. However problems arise when you finish the presentation and get a call from Mina.

“She's gone”, The first thing you think is that Minji has gone somewhere, then you realise, Mina was tasked to deal with Haewon, not Minji. “Haewon is gone?” It's Minji, of course it is, “Correct, I'm afraid it's your sister-girlfriend sir”, It seems like you might have grown a little too fast. “Fuck”

Once you get home, you find Minji just chilling on the couch, acting clueless while she continues reading her book. The moment you walk in she smiles at you, “How was the meeting oppa?” You stare at her coldly, “Did you do it?” She raised her eyebrow, she's not very good at acting. Perhaps, she doesn't really try to hide it, maybe she got that one from you. “You need to be more specific oppa”, Since when is she this sassy, “Did you, clean up Haewon the same way you clean up your charming suitor”, She frowns a little hearing you call that side character a suitor. “I heard your tutor, Mina, can't seem to do her job properly. So I asked mom”, Aren't you proud? Your little girl is all grown up now.

“Mom can handle these problems better than dad?” Minji just shrugged, “Mom has her ways”, You smiled, my god you are proud of her. “Well, now all is well isn't it?” No, holy fuck no, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You've never seen any proof, but Minji definitely has her twisted tendencies from someone. Who could it be? Could it be her mysterious dad? Or is it her mom, your mom? Could her mom…….. treat your mom as her Haewon? “Oppa? What's wrong? You're happy right? Now there's no one between us anymore”, Minji smiles as she hugs you, her eyes devoid of happiness. They're just inspecting your face in case there is any disapproval.

“What a fucked up finale”, That hits pretty close to home, “Hehehehe, now you're mine oppa, fully”, Minji's hand starts to unbuttoned your shirt. Her lips touched your neck before she sank her teeth deep into it. Look at her, look at what you've made, isn't she beautiful. “Fucking he'll Minji, you're a maniac”, You grunted as your hand grabbed her tits. “Ahhhhh, you love me because of that”, Minji moaned before she continued biting her neck. Her hand finished unbuttoning your shirt and started to unzip your pants. “Should we go to the bedroom first?” Your question was answered by her body that pushes you to the wall.

Your pants fell off to the ground, her slender hands grabbed onto your cock as she pressed her lips onto yours. She let out moans as her hands are jerking you off. For once she took control of you. It felt good, didn't it? Having her hand aggressively jerk you off as her tongue is exploring your mouth. Your hand went under her sweater and started to fondle her breast, “Pinch it oppa”, She whimpered before continuing her exploration of your mouth.

Her mouth then starts to lower down and kiss your neck, her hand starts to stroke you faster and faster. “Fuck Minji, you've become such a slut”, She giggled and stop bitting your neck, “I did it all for you oppa”, She whispered in your ears. “Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum”, The moment she heard you Minji immediately drop to her knees. She pulls your tip to her mouth as her hand strokes you even faster. “Fuck”, You let out a grunt as you cum into her mouth. “Mmmhhhmm~”, Minji let out a moan as she felt those thick warm cum starts to fill her mouth. Despite her best effort to swallow it all, some still manages to drip out of her mouth, forcing her to use her fingers to wipe it before licking them clean.

“There better be more oppa”, She looked at you using her puppy eyes as she licked her cum stained hands. “Hehehe, get on the couch baby”, Minji stood up and turned around, making sure to poke out her ass towards you. Minji gets on the couch, kneeling on it as her body leaned towards the backrest. “Come on oppa, fuck my ass please”, She wiggle her ass to invite you. You walk closer, your hand grabs her yoga pants before pulling them down, revealing her bare ass. “You're ready baby?” Your finger teases her tight entrance, “Oppa, just fuck me already, fill my ass up daddy”, Did she figure out your kink already?

Your cock rests in between her cheeks, “You're so desperate already? Tell me first Minji, what did you do to Haewon?” You rubbed your cock between her ass making her feel frustrated. “Stop talking about her already, it's just you and me from now on. Forget about her, and just focus on me, daddy~”, Now how do you deal with her teasing? “Ahhhh, again daddy, spank me harder”, Well, spanking hasn't been a punishment for her anymore. You raised your hand and slapped her ass making her let out a moan, “I told you I got Haewon covered, but you just won't listen do you?” Minji bit her lips and nodded.

“I can't wait any longer daddy, I hate her, I hate her so much. I want you, I want you to belong to me, forever. Fuck me already daddy, I can't wait for you any longer”, She whined as she wiggle her ass. “Bad girl”, You spank her again making her moan, “I hate it when you won't listen to me”, You spank her again. “I'm sorry daddy, but I can't let her take up a place in your mind anymore. You belong to me, now and forever”, She grunted. That's it, no more waiting, “Aggghhhh, fuck daddy”, Maybe you can penetrate her slower though. “Fucking slut”, You spanked her again making her moan, “Yeah, I'm your slut, fuck me harder daddy”

How is a gentleman supposed to say no to such a kind request? You pick up your pace and pound her even faster. Your hand grabbed on to her hair and pulled her up, “Ahhhhhh, fuck, you're so fucking big daddy, you're breaking me apart”, Minji is filled with ecstasy, and your cock. Your hips starts to live by itself, pounding her mercilessly as her ass jiggle from the impact and your spanking. “Fuck, fill me up daddy, pleaseee”, Her words sends you over the edge, you grunted and pull her hair even harder as you empty your load inside her. “Hhhmmm, that felt good daddy, hopefully you still have some more to give me because my pussy is still aching for you”, Minji moaned as you pulled out your dick, your cum started to overflow and dripped down her ass.

You sit down on the couch next to her to catch your breath for a second, then Minji jumps on to your lap and starts stroking your cock. “I should stop drinking those pills oppa, because it's time to make you a real daddy”, She kissed you as your cock sprung back into action. “Hopefully, this time you didn't end up like the last girl I impregnate”, She smiled a little before leaning down and whispered in your ear, “Don't worry oppa, nothing will distract you ever again. It's just you, and me, now and forever”

#kpop fanfic #kpop gg #kpop smut #newjeans minji #kim minji #minji smut #male reader

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saraswritingtipps · 11 months

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Ways to hit your readers in the gut

When it comes to writing, there's a profound and mesmerizing way to touch your readers deep within their souls. It's about crafting moments that hit them in the gut, stirring up intense emotions and forging an everlasting connection. Here are some techniques to help you achieve this:

1. Unexpected Loss: Introduce a character who captures hearts, only to snatch them away suddenly. Think of J.K. Rowling's "Harry Potter" series, where the abrupt departure of beloved characters like Sirius Black and Fred Weasley leaves readers shattered, their grief a testament to the power of storytelling.

2. Sacrifice for a Cause: Show a character willingly sacrificing their own happiness or even their life for a greater purpose. Suzanne Collins' "The Hunger Games" portrays Katniss Everdeen's selflessness, volunteering as a tribute to save her sister, evoking empathy and admiration.

3. Unrequited Love: Explore the agony of unrequited love, where hearts ache and souls yearn. Charlotte Brontë's "Jane Eyre" delves into the bittersweet and heart-wrenching tale of Jane's unfulfilled affection for Mr. Rochester, resonating with readers who have experienced the profound depths of unrequited longing.

4. Betrayal by a Loved One: Peel back the layers of trust to reveal the sting of betrayal. George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" series delivers shocking betrayals that shatter readers' expectations, leaving them stunned and heartbroken alongside the characters.

5. Overcoming Personal Demons: Illuminate the struggle against internal conflicts, be it addiction, guilt, or haunting trauma. Anthony Doerr's "All the Light We Cannot See" explores Werner's moral compass during wartime, captivating readers as they witness his battle for redemption and personal growth.

6. Injustice and Oppression: Shed light on the injustices characters endure, igniting empathy and inspiring change. Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird" reveals the racial prejudice faced by Tom Robinson, awakening readers to the urgent need for justice and equality.

7. Parent-Child Relationships: Navigate the intricate tapestry of emotions between parents and children. Khaled Hosseini's "The Kite Runner" unearths the complexities of the father-son bond, evoking a myriad of feelings, from longing and regret to hope for reconciliation.

8. Final Farewells: Craft poignant scenes where characters bid farewell, whether due to death or separation. Markus Zusak's "The Book Thief" gifts readers with heartbreaking partings amidst the backdrop of World War II, leaving an indelible mark of loss and the fragile beauty of human connections.

9. Personal Transformation: Illuminate characters' growth through adversity, offering a beacon of hope and inspiration. Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" narrates Ebenezer Scrooge's extraordinary journey from a bitter miser to a beacon of compassion, reminding readers that redemption and personal change are within reach.

10. Existential Questions: Delve into existential themes that provoke deep introspection. Albert Camus' "The Stranger" challenges readers to ponder the meaning of life through Meursault's detached and nihilistic worldview, prompting them to question their own existence.

With these techniques, you have the power to touch your readers' souls, leaving an indelible impression. Remember to weave these moments seamlessly into your narrative, allowing them to enrich your characters and themes. Let your words resonate and ignite emotions, for that is the essence of impactful storytelling.

#writing #writing tips #character development #writer on tumblr #writerscommunity #writer tumblr #writblr #writing advice #oc character #writing block #writing habits #writing help #writersociety #fanfic

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dee-writes-smut · 21 days

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SPRING (Part One)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY on a mission to discuss peace negotiations with the Illyrians, you find yourself in a tricky spot without your best friend. (part two is up)

CONTENT WARNINGS descriptions of injuries, pain, torture, depression, and misogyny. This one is dark, please ensure you are feeling comfortable and safe.

AUTHORS NOTE today I woke up and chose violence apparently. This fic is unbelievably long and It's been a while, so I thought I would appease you while I continue to work on the second part of the mark fic. I hope you all enjoy. <3

In the gentle embrace of spring, as nature stirred from its winter slumber, the world seemed to come alive in a symphony of sights and sounds. The air grew lively with vibrant colors of blossoming trees, their delicate leaves unfurling, whispering hope upon the wind. Each leaf and flower, each insect and animal all seeming to dance in the sunlight and bask in new chances of growth. It was truly a testament to beauty and resilience, to life.

But, amidst the beauty of renewal, there lingered a sense of sorrow, a deep heaviness that hung in the air like a dark cloud just breaching above the horizon. Spring had brough not only the promise of new beginnings, but a painful reminder for all that had been lost and forgotten. And as rain fell softly upon the earth, calling to mother nature to gift the soil with fertility, memories of pain consumed you. The gentle patter of raindrops against the earth did not serve to remind you of new beginnings, but set a somber soundtrack in your thoughts, a melancholy melody that echoed the ache you felt in your heart.

As pollen filled the air, coloring the wind and triggering allergies that left you sneezing and sniffling, you couldn't help but feel trapped within the confines of your own sorrow, isolated from the prospering world around you. Vibrant colors and sweet scents did nothing to comfort, rather building a prison of sorts, confining you to the memories of the person you once were, of the life you used to lead.

(Springtime, The Illyrian Mountains)

As you and Azriel ventured into the heart of the Illyrian steeps on a mission, the harsh terrain mirrored the cold, hardened demeanor of its inhabitants. The people of this unforgiving land, with their anger and hostility, were the only semblance of family you had ever known. Yet, their begrudging tolerance of your existence only fueled the resentment that simmered within you. How could you ever understand a people who would dare to strip you of your wings, your very essence of freedom, as a cruel display of dominance and worthlessness?

"Interesting how Rhys sends the two of us, who would sooner see the Illyrians burn, for peace negotiations," you remarked with a bitter chuckle, nudging Azriel to draw him from his thoughts. Azriel, your closest friend for three centuries, had become a steadfast companion since that fateful night when you first crossed paths with Mor at Rita's. Though the details of that encounter remained a blur, the bond forged between you and Azriel stood firm.

"Cass is stuck with Nesta. She’s been feeling off lately, she senses something stirring, but isn’t sure what. Elain shared her sentiments," Azriel grumbled, his countenance slipping into the stoic mask of the shadowsinger, overshadowing his gentle and kind-hearted nature that was generally reserved for you and the rest of your chosen family.

"So, Rhys sent the only other two Illyrians he knows. How convenient for us," you retorted, your wings instinctively folding in close as you navigated the lifeless streets of the Illyrian camp. By now, they had learned better than to challenge your presence for too long.

"Just stick close," Azriel advised, his voice tinged with caution. “There are still many men who wish to see you wingless and under their influence.”

You rolled your eyes and let out an exasperated huff but nodded in agreement. "Stubborn bastards," you muttered under your breath.

In hindsight, perhaps openly disparaging them while walking through their camp wasn't the wisest choice. But they were well aware of your disdain for them, just as you knew the depths of their animosity towards you. They had cast you out like prey when you were just a child, and you had since made it your life's mission to rise above them in every way possible. The mere thought of your superiority grated on them to no end, and you reveled in it.

Azriel chuckled softly, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. He nudged you back in the side as you approached Lord Devlon’s home, the both of you sharing a sullen look of understanding before Azriel knocked.

The response was immediate, Lord Devlon swinging the door open with a scowl that mirrored Azriel's own grim expression. "I don't care that you force us to let our women keep their wings," he spat, his tone dripping with disdain, "but I will not negotiate with one. Especially her."

Azriel's growl rumbled deep in his chest, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "I don’t give a fuck about your preferences," he snapped, his voice laced with barely restrained anger.

You sighed, your wings flaring behind you in agitation as you shot a withering glare at Devlon. Barely missing Azriel's own, which mirrored your movements, his solidarity unwavering.

Turning to Azriel, you spoke with a sense of resignation. "Go on. I'll catch up with Emerie and a few others."

Though reluctant to part ways, Azriel relented, “Fine,” he growled, knocking his forehead gently against yours. It was a gesture you both shared, a silent reassurance that you were never truly alone in the face of adversity. With a nod of encouragement, you turned and walked off Devlon’s steps, making your way back into town to seek solace in the company of the only Illyrian, aside from your bat boys, whom you found more than tolerable.

After sharing a drink with Emerie and catching up for a few hours, you felt a tug of responsibility urging you to check in on Devlon and Azriel. Yet, deep down, a part of you secretly hoped that Azriel had taken matters into his own hands and dealt with the pompous leader once and for all, though you dared not voice such thoughts aloud.

As you stepped outside, the tranquility of spring in the mountains enveloped you like a comforting embrace. The harsh winds of winter had given way to a gentle, cool breeze that whispered through the trees, carrying with it the promise of warmer days ahead. It was a peaceful scene, if one could ignore the harsh realities of life in this unforgiving land, and the unspeakable horrors inflicted upon its women.

You closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to bask in the crisp, cool air, a stark contrast to the warmer weather of Velaris. But before you could fully immerse yourself in the tranquility of the moment, they struck.

It happened so quickly, the ambush catching you off guard. Before you could react, a blow to the back of your head sent you reeling, darkness descending upon you like a heavy shroud. In the blink of an eye, consciousness slipped away, leaving you vulnerable and defenseless against the unknown assailants. If you had had the chance to process the situation, perhaps embarrassment would have crept in at being caught off guard so easily. But the darkness of unconsciousness claimed you swiftly, dragging you down into its depths before you could even muster a response.

"Wake up, whore," a voice hissed in your ear, jolting you from the haze of unconsciousness. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to make sense of your surroundings, the harshness of the voice sending a shiver down your spine. Blinking against the darkness that enveloped you, you felt a heavy weight pressing down upon your head—a bag, thick and suffocating, that obscured your vision and when you moved—thrashed— against the seat you were in, you quickly realized that you were bound.

Shit.

The bag over your head muffled your senses, leaving you completely disoriented and vulnerable to your captors. Panic surged through you at this revelation, causing a sudden spark of energy to send you thrashing against your restraints, deep realization sinking in your stomach with sickening dread.

The voice that had startled you awake, one that sounded awfully familiar, chuckled darkly, a deep, cruel sound that sent shivers cascading down your spine. “No need to struggle, sweetheart,” he mocked, “you’re not going anywhere.”

Your heart hammered against your chest as you strained to make sense of your surroundings, to recognize even the slightest detail, but all you could make out was the stench of damp earth and mildew. Fear clawed its way down your throat, leaving deep gauges as you tried to keep your composure, to get out of this place, this nightmare, before it was too late.

“Where am I?” You growled, your voice heavy with defiance as you demanded your location, only a slight lilt of fear made its way past your throat.

“You're not the one making demands here,” he sneered, tone dripping with pure malice. He must have been an Illyrian. No one else would have the gall to try something like this, either too afraid of you, or too afraid of Azriel’s wrath. Just the thought of him filled you with a desperate longing, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume you.

As you struggled to piece together your next move, the sound of footsteps approached, echoing ominously in the darkness. You braced yourself for what was to come, steeling your resolve to survive whatever horrors awaited you.

The bag was roughly pulled from your head, and you blinked against the sudden onslaught of light, squinting to make out the figure before you. As your vision cleared, you found yourself face to face with your captor, Lyris, who you used to train with as a kid, his eyes cold and calculating as he loomed over you with a wicked grin.

As the realization of your fate settled like a heavy stone in your chest, Lyris approached, his steps deliberate and purposeful. He wielded a gleaming dagger in his hand, the cold metal glinting in the dim light of the chamber. Your heart hammered in your chest as fear gripped you like a vice, every instinct screaming at you to fight, to flee, but the chains binding you rendered you helpless.

With a cruel smirk, Lyris loomed over you, his eyes alight with sadistic delight. "Time to finally take what's mine, what those bastard whoresons took from me so many years ago," he sneered, the dagger poised menacingly in his grasp.

Your breath caught in your throat as the blade descended, slicing through the air with a sickening sound that made your blood run cold. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the searing pain that was sure to follow.

The first cut came swift and merciless, a sharp agony tearing through your being as the blade bit into your flesh. A strangled cry tore from your lips, the sound echoing off the walls of the chamber as your world exploded into a whirlwind of pain and terror.

“Look at these pretty wings,” Lyris hummed, his voice filled with the rasp of adrenaline. “I cannot wait to hang them on the wall of our home. To keep you quiet, pliant, and filled with my children; as you should have been from the start.” His voice, one you used to cherish, one that reminded you of the little boy who would sneak away to help you, to train you against the backs of his mentors, was now torture.

But the torment did not end there. With ruthless precision, Lyris continued to wield his blade, each stroke bringing fresh waves of agony that threatened to consume you whole. You writhed and thrashed against your restraints; your cries of anguish lost in the darkness of the chamber. Through tear-blurred vision, you caught a glimpse of your wings, once symbols of freedom and strength, now mangled, bloodied and broken beyond recognition. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you watched helplessly, the realization of your loss hitting you like a physical blow.

And as the last remnants of your wings fell away, severed and discarded like worthless scraps of flesh, a hollow emptiness settled in the pit of your stomach. You were no longer whole, no longer the person you once were. You had been robbed of your identity, your essence, and in their place remained only the cruel scars of your torment.

In the oppressive darkness of your captivity, each passing moment stretched into an eternity, the weight of your mutilation a relentless burden threatening to crush not just your body, but your very spirit. Bound and helpless, you lay upon the cold stone floor, every breath a labored struggle against the suffocating silence that surrounded you. The air itself felt heavy with despair, pressing down upon you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you gasping for air, for relief, for any semblance of hope.

Your limbs, once strong and nimble, now felt heavy and leaden, shackled by chains that dug into your flesh with cruel insistence, leaving angry welts in their wake. Each movement sent a jolt of searing pain shooting through your battered body, a constant reminder of the brutality you had endured.

Amidst the shadows that danced like malevolent phantoms in the night, a soft rustle of wings broke through the oppressive stillness, the whisper of shadows weaving through the air like an ancient, mournful melody. Your heart surged in your chest as a familiar presence enveloped the room, a warmth that banished the icy chill that had settled deep within your bones, offering a glimmer of solace in the midst of the suffocating darkness.

Azriel.

With a grace honed by centuries of training, Azriel moved with silent determination, his movements a symphony of lethal precision and raw emotion. Each step he took seemed to reverberate through the chamber, echoing the pounding of your heart as he closed in on your captors, his eyes burning with a fierce determination that bordered on desperation.

The sound of steel meeting flesh rang out like a mournful dirge, punctuated by the anguished cries of your assailants as they fell before Azriel's relentless onslaught, their tormentors becoming the tormented. The room erupted into chaos, the air thick with the scent of blood and sweat as Azriel moved with a fluidity that bordered on otherworldly, his wings unfurling like a dark, protective cloak as he danced amidst the shadows. It was a sight to behold, a dance of death performed with a grace and precision that belied the brutality of its execution, a testament to the depth of his devotion and the strength of his love.

Through the haze of pain and fear, a surge of gratitude washed over you, a profound sense of relief that threatened to overwhelm your senses. As Azriel approached, his hand outstretched in silent invitation, you reached out to him, your fingers trembling with exhaustion and relief, your heart overflowing with a love and gratitude that defied words. In that moment, as his steady presence enveloped you, you knew that you were not alone in the darkness.

“Gods, what did they do to you,” Azriel breathed, his own hands shaking as he helped you to your feet, the weight of your brokenness heavy in his arms. You swayed unsteadily, a marionette with severed strings, before collapsing against him, the pain of your loss too great to bear alone.

“Did-” You are cut off by a hiss of pain, the sharp intake of breath a dagger through your chest. You took a moment to collect yourself, the darkness at the edges of your vision threatening to engulf you. Azriel, a bastion of strength in the storm, gently guided you to the cold stone floor, his touch a lifeline in the suffocating darkness. “Did you kill him?” you managed to choke out, the words heavy with desperation and fear, each syllable a struggle against the encroaching oblivion.

“Who?” Azriel's voice was a low rumble, his grip on your hand grounding you in the present moment, a beacon of stability amidst the chaos that threatened to consume you both. Outside the confines of your enclosure, the sounds of chaos echoed in the air, a symphony of violence and retribution made in your honor.

“Lyris. Did you kill him?” Your voice wavered, the weight of your words a burden too heavy to bear alone. You felt lightheaded, the loss of blood draining your strength with each passing moment.

“Lyris? He was here?” Azirel's growl reverberated in the cavernous space, a primal sound that sent shivers down your spine. He was the only one you confided in about your history with the Illyrian male, the scars of your past laid bare before him.

You sniffled and sobbed, the floodgates of grief finally breaking as you allowed yourself to mourn the loss of your wings in the safety of Azriel’s presence. His arms wrapped around you, a shield against the storm raging within you, offering solace in the face of unspeakable loss.

“My wings?” you asked through sobs, the words a whisper against the backdrop of your anguish.

“Not here.” He whispered mournfully, his voice a lament for all that had been taken from you. You felt yourself deflate further, the realization settling like a heavy stone in the pit of your stomach. Your once friend, now tormentor, had escaped with the remnants of your shattered dreams, leaving you broken and bereft in his wake.

In the aftermath of your rescue, the pain that gnawed at your soul was not just physical but a deep, unrelenting ache that seemed to permeate every fiber of your being. With each labored breath, you felt the absence of your wings like a gaping wound, a constant reminder of the brutality inflicted upon you.

As Azriel guided you through the darkness, his presence a flickering candle in the void, you stumbled and faltered, your body racked with tremors of agony. Each step sent shards of pain shooting through your mutilated form, a relentless onslaught that threatened to consume you whole.

The absence of your wings was not just a physical loss but a spiritual one, a cruel reminder of all that had been taken from you. Once a symbol of freedom and strength, they were now nothing more than cruel stumps, a mockery of what once was. With each beat of your heart, the pain pulsed like a funeral dirge, a haunting melody that echoed through the caverns of your soul. You longed to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all, but the darkness of your despair swallowed your cries before they could escape your lips.

And through it all, Azriel remained by your side, his presence a silent witness to your suffering. But even his steady presence could not chase away the shadows that threatened to consume you, leaving you adrift in a sea of despair.

As you emerged into the cool embrace of freedom, blinking against the harsh light of day, you felt a sense of emptiness wash over you—a hollow void that seemed to stretch on for eternity. The road ahead loomed dark and uncertain, a twisting labyrinth of pain and sorrow that threatened to swallow you whole.

[NEXT]

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bellofthemeadow · 4 months

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Aemond Targaryen | Series Masterlist

(The picture does not represent what Lady looks like, no physical description is given)

Aemond Targaryen X Dayne!Reader

Masterlist

Series Summary:

As a lady of house Dayne you were always one step removed from the game of thrones. But destiny had other plans, catapulting you into the forefront of power struggles and courtly intrigues as the new bride of Prince Aemond Targaryen. In a world where alliances are as fickle as the wind and love is a luxury few can afford, will you be able to navigate the perilous path laid before you? Caught in a bitter dance, you are faced with a harrowing choice: forge a bond strong enough to withstand the flames of dragonfire, or perish in the ashes of a kingdom teetering on the brink of war.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Tropes: Idiots in love, arrange marriage, from stranger to lover

Prologue: The Ghost of Starfall

Chapter 1: The Green Luncheon

Chapter 2: Flea Bottom

Chapter 3 : Through your Eyes

Chapter 4: The Iron Throne

Interlude - At Dawn (new)

#series masterlist #masterlist #aemond targaryen x you #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd #aemond targaryen x ofc #fanfic #fanfiction #aemond targaryen x fem!oc #house targaryen #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #ewanverse

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callsigns-haze · 2 months

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Hangman and Haze: the reunite

part one of two..

Summary: In the quiet of the night, Y/N finds herself confiding in Bradley about the reasons behind her sudden departure from Jake before her deployment to Poland. As they share moments of vulnerability and reflection, Y/N grapples with the choices she's made and the uncertainty of her future, while Bradley offers unwavering support and understanding. Amidst the lingering echoes of their past, they find solace in the simple act of being present for each other, forging a bond that transcends time and distance.

Warnings: This chapter contains themes of emotional turmoil, past regrets, and unresolved feelings. Reader discretion is advised for those sensitive to discussions of relationship complications and separation anxiety.

The streets of San Diego were quiet under the moonlit sky as Y/N's car rolled into the familiar neighborhood. It had been fourteen long months since she last set foot in this city, leaving behind memories both bitter and sweet. But tonight, as she parked in front of Bradley's porch, she felt a mixture of nerves and relief flood her senses.

With a gentle sigh, Y/N unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to the backseat where little Jack lay asleep in his car seat. The soft rise and fall of his chest brought a small smile to her lips, a reminder of why she had returned. Jack, her precious six-month-old son, the living embodiment of her love for Jake.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Y/N carefully lifted Jack from his seat, cradling him close to her chest. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, her heart racing with anticipation and uncertainty. Would Bradley be awake at this hour? Would he welcome her back with open arms or turn her away?

Summoning her courage, Y/N made her way up the porch steps, each one creaking softly beneath her weight. She paused at the door, her hand trembling slightly as she reached out to knock. The sound echoed in the silence, resonating with the weight of her decision.

Seconds stretched into eternity before the door swung open, revealing Bradley's tired yet concerned expression. His eyes widened in surprise as they fell upon Y/N and the sleeping bundle in her arms.

"Y/N," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is that...?"

Y/N nodded, her throat tightening with emotion. "It's me, Bradley. And... and this is Jack."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air heavy with unspoken questions and unfinished conversations. But then, Bradley's expression softened, his gaze flickering with understanding and compassion.

"Come in," he said quietly, stepping aside to make way for Y/N and Jack. "You're home now."

With a grateful smile, Y/N crossed the threshold, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. Home. The word echoed in her mind, a promise of belonging and forgiveness.

As she settled into the familiar surroundings of Bradley's living room, Y/N couldn't help but wonder what the future held. But one thing was certain: she was back where she belonged, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, with Jack by her side and Bradley's unwavering support.

And somewhere in the depths of her heart, she hoped that Jake would find his way back to them too, completing the family they had always dreamed of.

Bradley led Y/N into the kitchen, leaving Jack to slumber peacefully in the dimly lit living room. The soft hum of the refrigerator filled the air, creating a cocoon of intimacy around them as they sat at the worn wooden table.

Pouring two mugs of steaming coffee, Bradley offered one to Y/N, his eyes filled with concern. "Tell me, Y/N," he began gently, "what happened in Poland? Why did you leave Jake here in San Diego before you went?"

Y/N took a sip of her coffee, the warmth spreading through her body like a lifeline. She knew she couldn't evade Bradley's questions any longer, not when he had opened his home to her and Jack with such kindness.

"It's... complicated," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jake and I, we were together here in San Diego. Everything seemed perfect, like a dream come true."

"But then..." Bradley prompted, sensing her hesitation.

Y/N's hands trembled as she traced the rim of her mug, the memories of that fateful day threatening to overwhelm her. "I was offered a new assignment in Poland. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, but it meant leaving Jake behind."

Bradley listened in silence, his gaze unwavering as he waited for Y/N to continue.

"I thought we could make it work long-distance," Y/N admitted, her voice choked with emotion. "But as the days turned into weeks, the distance between us grew, and so did the doubts in my mind."

"And so you left," Bradley concluded softly, a note of understanding in his tone.

Y/N nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. "I thought it was for the best, that it would give us both the space we needed to figure things out. But looking back, I realize I was just running away from my feelings, from the fear of facing the truth."

Bradley reached across the table, squeezing Y/N's hand in a gesture of solidarity. "You don't have to face this alone, Y/N. Whatever happens, I'll be here for you, every step of the way."

With Bradley's unwavering support anchoring her, Y/N felt a flicker of hope ignite within her heart. Maybe, just maybe, she could find the courage to confront her past and embrace the uncertain future that lay ahead. And as the night wore on, she found solace in the simple act of sharing her story, knowing that she wasn't alone in her struggles.

The quiet of the kitchen enveloped them like a comforting embrace, punctuated only by the occasional soft clink of their coffee mugs. Y/N found solace in Bradley's presence, grateful for his understanding and support in this moment of vulnerability.

As they sat in silence, Bradley's question hung in the air like a delicate thread. "Have you at least kept in touch with Jake?"

Y/N nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the swirling patterns in her coffee. "I send him pictures of Jack every week," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's the least I can do, to let him be a part of our son's life."

Bradley reached out, placing a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder. "That's... that's really good of you, Y/N. I'm sure Jake appreciates it more than you know."

A faint smile tugged at Y/N's lips, a glimmer of hope flickering within her heart. Maybe, despite everything that had happened between them, there was still a chance for them to find their way back to each other, if only for the sake of their son.

"And what about Jake?" Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued. "Is he still at Top Gun?"

Bradley nodded, his expression somber. "Yes, he is. He's been throwing himself into his work, trying to keep busy, I suppose."

Y/N's heart ached at the thought of Jake, alone at Top Gun, his thoughts consumed by memories of their time together. She couldn't shake the feeling that their story was far from over, that there were still words left unsaid between them, waiting to be spoken.

But for now, as she sat in the warmth of Bradley's kitchen, surrounded by the gentle hum of the night, Y/N found comfort in the simple act of being present, of sharing this moment with someone who understood her in ways she couldn't begin to explain. And as the night wore on, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for them yet.

The weight of Bradley's words lingered in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities of their intertwined pasts. Y/N couldn't help but wonder what Jake was thinking, what he felt when he looked at the pictures of Jack, their son, growing up from afar. Did he long to be a part of their lives as much as she wished he would?

"I wish things were different," Y/N murmured, her voice heavy with regret.

Bradley's gaze softened, his hand squeezing her shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "I know, Y/N. But sometimes, life has a way of leading us down unexpected paths. All we can do is make the best of the hand we've been dealt."

Y/N nodded, a sense of resignation settling over her. She knew that she couldn't change the past, couldn't undo the choices she had made. But she could choose how to move forward, how to navigate the uncertain road ahead.

"And what about you, Bradley?" she asked, her curiosity breaking through the somber silence. "How have you been?"

A wistful smile graced Bradley's lips, a flicker of warmth in the depths of his eyes. "I've been holding up," he replied, his voice tinged with quiet determination. "Taking things one day at a time, you know?"

Y/N nodded in understanding, a sense of gratitude swelling within her. Despite the distance that had grown between them over the years, Bradley had always been a constant presence in her life, a beacon of light in the darkest of times.

"Thank you, Bradley," she said softly, her words laced with sincerity. "For everything."

Bradley's smile widened, a glimmer of hope dancing in his eyes. "Anytime, Y/N. You know I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

And as they sat in the stillness of the night, surrounded by the comforting embrace of Bradley's kitchen, Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over her. Whatever the future held, she knew that she wasn't alone, that she had someone by her side who would always have her back. And with that knowledge, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them to find their way back to each other, to rewrite the story of their lives in a way that felt true and whole.

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snivyartjpeg · 3 months

Text

what if we were raised together but also raised apart, unaware of each other until the day we meet and then- only then- do our lives begin to make sense?

more lore under the cut! (it's a lot)

The labs raised them in somewhat the same way- and both methods dehumanizing. Yuma solves a puzzle for a juice reward. Makoto solves a puzzle to avoid getting shocked. Both get shocked at the slightest display of disobedience anyway. Both have strict routines and regimes where every aspect of their lives seems set in stone. What the scientists didn't take into account was that raising a little genius in such conditions will eventually backfire.

They both escape their labs on the same day, shortly after they turn 20. They also name themselves Yuma and Makoto around this time, only being referred to beforehand as "Subject No. 01" and "Subject No. 02." These escapes simultaneously piss off the researchers but also fascinate them- how much of their identical choices were made based on nature vs nurture?

For the first month traveling alone, Yuma spent his time trying and failing to do everything alone. He eventually receives the help of a stranger and starts helping random people, learning he'll receive kindness in return.

Makoto spent his lonesome travels scraping by and barely surviving without the assistance of anyone else. He's still bitter and angry about what the scientists have done to him. He regrets not burning the whole institution to the ground.

They both meet at a bar, where they, of course, instantly recognize each other's faces as their own. After a lot of guarded questions, they learn that they were both cursed with the same upbringing.

So Makoto asks Yuma to help him return to the Amaterasu lab and exact revenge.

Yuma doesn't wanna hurt anyone, but agrees to come along... with ulterior motives! He wants to show Makoto that this world isn't so bad, and dwelling on getting revenge isn't everything. Think like the core relationship in Mad Rat Dead, between Heart and Mad Rat.

And why is Yuma so stuck on this pacifist philosophy? Well, he'd already gotten his revenge. Turns out, putting a bullet into the head researcher who raised him only made him feel hollow and scared. He doesn't want Makoto to go through the same thing.

They meet the other cast members on the way, doing odd jobs and favors for them and forging small bonds with all the strangers they meet. They help Halara, a pet rescue volunteer, get a cat down from a tree and in return Halara teaches them a few survival skills. The meet Fubuki, who is lost in the supermarket, but it's also their first time in the supermarket so they all end up going on an "adventure" together until the clones escort her back to her limo. She tips them a fat wad of cash that keeps them fed and housed in hotels for like 3 months. They help Desuhiko, an up and coming music star who's anxious about getting on stage. The decide to do an opening act as a comedy duo- Makoto and Yuma are familiar with street performing for money after all- and it not only has the audience in a good mood but eases Desuhiko's anxieties. The clones see their first concert together and it's the most fun theyve ever had. Desuhiko, in return, patches up their clothes for them (though, they do end up messing the clothes up again later, lol) with his impressive sewing skills. They save Yakou from getting beat down by some debt collectors and Yakou lets them crash in his shitty little apartment for a while.

This is really just a really endearing and cute road trip story in my head. It starts off tragic but once they get out it's just two guys who only understand each other trying to explore a whole new world while making other lives better.

They eventually reach the Amaterasu lab again, but by that point, Makoto doesn't have it in him to exact revenge anymore. He hates the place, but it was still his home. It's complicated. He tells Yuma that all he wants to do now is keep traveling the world together.

That's when Yuma reveals he's been secretly planning with the other people they've helped together to expose the laboratory for the corrupt place it is and get it shut down. That way they can get their revenge the right way. Makoto is ecstatic.

After they expose the dirt on their respective labs and have those places shut down, they're free to travel together again and continue helping any random people they see who need it <3

if anyone has any questiosn abt this au ill gladly answer bc it's rotting my brain <3

#rain code #raincode #mdarc #master detective archives: rain code #yuma kokohead #makoto kagutsuchi #rain code spoilers #raincode spoilers #mdarc spoilers #makoyuma #kokotsuchi #<- can we start calling it kokotsuchi it's so much cuter sounding #i dont plan on making this a fic but i did wanna share the brainrot #runaways au

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princessanonymous · 3 months

Text

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

Story Chapter list

23. 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓦𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻

The night had been long and exhausting, but this mattered little to him. Now that he had brought his child back and turned her, everything was well. Shortly after her first feeding, (Y/n) had fallen unconscious, the exhaustion brought by her transformation finally taking over her.

As a coffin had yet to be made for her, the child had nowhere to rest. She wasn't human anymore, a bed certainly wouldn't do. These things were too uncomfortable for greater beings like them. Dorian brought her to his own coffin and let her rest next to him for the time being.

Killian remained silent since (Y/n)'s transformation. He hadn’t uttered a single word since. His eyes lingered frequently on the youngling, but he presented a vacant expression, his mind adrift. Dorian didn't mind; he understood that, despite Killian's stoic exterior, the blonde vampire felt a sense of responsibility for the newly turned child. Now, he would have to think of (Y/n) before trying to leave. (Y/n) would now factor into both their lives, a reminder that Dorian intended to keep at the forefront of Killian's thoughts.

A heavy silence hung in the air, pregnant with tension as Killian's accusatory words sliced through the room like a dagger. His dark gaze bore into Dorian, carrying with it a weight of both anger and disappointment.

"You should have left her. You never should have turned her," Killian stated firmly, his voice dripping with a foreboding darkness that resonated through the chamber.

Dorian couldn't suppress a growl of frustration that rumbled deep within his chest. He loved his companion, a bond that had been forged over countless years of shared experiences and challenges. Yet, their differing philosophies had always sparked discord. With a sarcastic hiss, he retorted, "Of course, Killian, you are absolutely right. I should have left her to wither away and crumble into the abyss of old age." The irony in his words was palpable, a thinly veiled mockery of Killian's unyielding principles.

The girl in question, still adjusting to her new existence, remained cradled in Dorian's arms, her eyes closed. Dorian hugged her tightly, his hands tenderly covering her ears in a protective gesture. He wished fervently that the newborn vampire didn't hear the words that had escaped Killian's lips, for in her eyes, he was the embodiment of virtue and goodness.

"I do not care how much you dislike this situation," Dorian sneered, the bitterness evident. "Rant and rave about it as much as you want, but don't you ever — and I mean it — say it in her presence again." The warning hung heavy in the air. “I was able to get my hands on a stake once and I will not hesitate to do it again, but this time– and I swear to all that is holy and unholy– I will make sure to complete the job.”

She didn't need to know the depth of the internal conflicts that had arisen within the very beings she would have to look up to for guidance. They were her guides, and Dorian intended to shield her from the shadows that lurked within their immortal souls.

⊱ ────── {⋆𖤐⋆} ────── ⊰

The night unfurled around (Y/n) as she awoke, grappling with the disorienting transition from a human world to the reality of her new existence. She emerged from the coffin, the memories of the nunnery, the massacres, and her transformation flooding back. She distantly realized she couldn’t feel any more pain in her leg.

The once mundane aspects of her surroundings now pulsed with life—the scents, sounds, tastes, and sensations overwhelmed her heightened senses. The onslaught of sensations became too much to bear. Blood pounded in her ears, her hands trembled, and her feet tingled. It was a whirlwind of clarity and chaos, leaving her desperate for reprieve.

She needed it to—

She gulped as her stomach churned. She felt as though a hand of ice had reached inside her chest, gripping her heart with a vice-like hold. She covered her ears, shutting out the cacophony threatening to engulf her. She just wanted it to stop.

Stop, stop, stopstop—

"(Y/n)," a voice, loud and grounding, called out to her. She winced in pain.

"Child, can you listen to me?" The voice, a lifeline amidst the turmoil, asked gently. Hesitant, she nodded, still overwhelmed and scared. "I want you to take three breaths with me. Can you do that?"

Hesitant but compliant, she followed his lead. Breathe in, breathe out—a rhythmic attempt to regain control. The creaking door and the aroma of food wafting from downstairs threatened to disrupt her focus.

"Breathe in... breathe out," he instructed, accentuating the motions. Slowly, through repetition, (Y/n) began to regain a semblance of calm. Trembling persisting, she clung to Killian, a strange calm intertwining with an unfamiliar sense of resentment.

As she followed his instructions, focusing on the simple act of breathing, the chaos within her began to subside, if only momentarily. The scent of food from downstairs, once a distraction, now mingled with the comforting presence. With each inhale and exhale, she felt herself slowly coming back to herself, the trembling lessening as a sense of control returned. Yet, beneath the calm facade, a knot of resentment twisted within her.

"I'm a monster," she confessed in a whisper, scorn lacing her words as tears traced down her face. "He made me into this."

Killian rolled circles in her back, a silent pillar of support. Dorian wasn't in the room, there was only her and the other vampire.

"I never wanted this," her voice cracked.

He enveloped her in a comforting embrace. "I know, child," he assured, his tone echoing the different emotions that enveloped them both.

The sound of approaching footsteps reached (Y/n)'s enhanced hearing moments before the door swung open. Her gaze, a defiant glare, met the vampire who entered. Despite Killian's protective arm around her shoulders, Dorian paid it no mind, smiling while cupping her face in his hand.

"How is my little fledgling tonight?" he asked in a singsong voice. "Show me your fangs, dear."

(Y/n) clenched her jaw and turned her head away in defiance. Dorian, undeterred, tightened his grip, forcing her to meet his gaze again. "Now, don't be—"

Instinctively, she bared her teeth and attempted to bite him, a surprising action even to herself. Dorian retracted his hand just in time to avoid it. Rather than anger, (Y/n) sensed amusement radiating from her sire, who rewarded her with a sharp grin, practically cackling in delight.

"Quite a feisty one, aren't you?" he commented gleefully. "Father is so proud." She glowered. "Freshen up; it is time to eat."

She left their room to go to her own quarters without a word. Anything to not be in direct contact with him. A maid had already prepared a bath for her and left, a fortunate occurrence. She was bloodied, her clothes stained by blood that had dried. The origin was unknown to her. Was it from Dorian, herself or even the nuns? She clenched her jaw, preferring not to think of that.

She just wanted it all gone. With meticulous care, she lathered her hands with soap. She thought of Sister Gloria and of the pain she must have felt as her sire sank his fangs in her neck, draining her life force. Or maybe, as he sliced her open– or as he ripped her apart ruthlessly. Her mind buzzed, each possibility running through her head. She could still hear the screams, could still see the red. The same red covering her. As the soap bubbled between her fingers, she scrubbed furiously. It had to leave. Did he play with them before slaughtering them? Did he make them partake in his twisted version of hide and seek? Hiding until he found them and spilled all their life fluids across their haven? Was it the same fluid she had on herself now? She scrubbed, her nails digging into her skin with a desperate intensity. She needed it gone. Was that what she was forced to become now? Would her existence revolve around spilling all that blood? Would it be consumed by the red? She scrubbed, she could have missed–

Someone knocked. “Miss,” a soft, almost inaudible voice called, “the duke is requesting you.”

She looked down at the blood tainted water and stood up. She paused for an instant. With a sigh, she reached for the hand towel, her movements slow and hesitant. Once she finally dried and dressed herself, she was ready to go.

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 8 months

Text

Always an Angel, Never the God Full

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Runaway!Reader

Words: 13,104

Your plans to run away with Hiccup fall through. Three years later, you finally make it off Berk and away from the Edge. Here are the years that follow.

Tags: SUGGESTIVE ENDING, Runaway Reader, Angst, bitter reader, unrequited love, requited love, healing, conflicting emotions, compiles parts 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5

<Previous

You waited for hours, back aching against the flat rock, basket of your few chosen belongings hidden behind a small outcropping of rock as you waited for him, increasingly more worried as the sun began to set.

Scared, even. You’d seen the axe, laid plainly on the ground. You feared the worst, especially after your frantic search bore no fruit. That he’d been found, and that something terrible had happened to him.

But Hiccup was fine, with Astrid, this whole time.

Even Toothless seemed to like her well enough. He didn’t like you, glaring and snapping at you when you got too close, despite all of your efforts to get on his good side. He barely let you on, and he certainly wouldn’t without Hiccup. You had the sneaking suspicion he’d buck if you tried it on your lonesome.

While you understood, it hurt that even as close friends he’d not told you about Toothless at all, at first. You doubt he would’ve if he’d not seen you do so poorly at dragon training. He probably felt terrible, watching you fail over and over again when he could be doing something to help.

You hugged your knees tightly, hidden behind rock and moss, fighting not to make a sound as you peered around a corner, barely listening in as they conversed.

Even if he never inherited the chiefdom, It was still a heavy expectation that he’d marry. You two were an inevitable couple, if not because of love, out of a bond of solidarity. It’s not like either of you had any suitors. You were friends first, of course, but privately you hadn’t had a problem with that. You got along well, and you could see a future with him where you were both alright.

And you really, really liked him.

You knew he wanted someone else, someone who was confident, capable, who had good standing, who his father could be proud of. Someone who was more gorgeous than plain, someone like Astrid.

You weren’t the best viking, you couldn’t work in the forge, you hadn’t a lot of lucrative talents at all and a measure of clumsiness and troublemaking that could rival Hiccup’s own.

But you were friends, and that had to count for something.

He came to you with his plan to run away. You were running away together, you thought.

But somehow, she was here, and he left with her. He liked her. You knew that. And, you realized with mounting horror as she leaned in closer to him, she liked him too.

You knew you’d never had a chance, but knowing it is different from experiencing it. You had not a chance in the world.

You could never fault him for that.

You couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in your eyes, or the tiny bits of your heart from splitting apart and scattering across the grass.

Conversely, he didn’t tell you when he flew off to battle with the rest of your peers. The whole thing with the Red Death? You missed it completely. You only found out later after Hiccup had been towed back to Berk on death's door.

Constantly spilling his heart out to you but saving the rest of it for the other teens, the ones who used to jeer at him from the sidelines, who all of the sudden began to treat him well, but still jeered at you while he wasn’t looking.

A hangers-on to their group, not very useful or funny, just there, always. Not spoken with or talked to or considered at all by anyone who wasn’t Hiccup. Just there.

Your companionship had, for lack of a better word, remained the same, except now there was an undercurrent of something under the surface of a black ocean, broiling and writhing like an angry serpent.

Sometimes it felt like a sick corruption of the friendship you and Hiccup used to have, made up of long held hardship and what you had thought were good times. Sometimes it was better than it was before, and you could joke and laugh and play games the same way you had as children.

And sometimes it felt like you were speaking to a stranger, one you weren’t sure you’d ever known at all; sometimes his mannerisms, his ticks and even the way he stood were alien to you.

You weren’t even sure you recognized who he was anymore. You never asked why, afraid of the answer you might find.

“So, I’m hoping that if I place a spring there, when I pull the lever it wont catch so violently. The gear system around the side is to help turn the barrel while you’re aiming. Got it? What do you think?”

You nodded, eyeing the vast array of blueprints and open journals spread sideways in between the two of you. Brown leather met leather as Hiccup rubbed his shoulder, no doubt a result of a hard fall he’d taken earlier on Toothless.

“Yeah, I got it,” You say casually, “What about the wheels? If you’re going to be pulling it over grass, you might need to cover the space between the wheels and gears, because the plants might catch and pull up into the gear system.”

It feels fake. Slimy to say, like a lie, except you know it’s not. It feels like a product of something more larger and uglier.

Hiccup picks up a yellowed paper, scrutinizing his own design, “Yeah… Actually, you’re right. I don’t know If- maybe if I shift the base… Yeah, I think that would work. Thank you.”

“No problem,” You puff, blowing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Also, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Hiccup shifted in his seat, clenching and unclenching his fingers, a nervous tick he’d had since the two of you were little, “Your dragon. Have you picked a name for it yet?”

“Ah, no,” You sigh, looking down at your knees, “Honestly, I haven’t been able to find something he likes.”

The picky bastard./Picky beast.

Hiccup had helped you find a dragon before the lot of you had moved, a smallish nadder who still didn’t feel much like your own, but served you just as well as any other would and you did teh best to serve it fine as well. He turned out to have just as much propensity for social upset around the other dragons and seemed to get along with Stormfly, Toothless and no one else.

Speaking of, the black dragon, Toothless, had warmed up to you, and in the end you became no better or worse than anyone else on Berk to him, which you were okay with for the most part.

The others had gotten used to you, though remained relatively detached. Conversations wouldn’t stop nor would people give you the look once you entered a room. You didn’t try to strike up conversation anymore, learning that it was better to be silent than awkward.

It still did nothing to soothe the hurt, or all of the years you’d spent hurting, or any of the time now you spent on your lonesome.

“If you don’t mind, I can-...” Hiccup leans back, the both of you turning heads as your door creaked open, heavy boots moving across the threshold of your home, wood floors creaking.

You gave Astrid a nod of acknowledgement as she approached your table and she tilted her head, glancing in your direction.

“Hiccup,” Astrid called, “Are we still flying tonight?”

“Astrid,” Hiccup greeted as he stood up, a soft smile stretching half the length of his face as he gathered his assets, leaving a few papers scattered across the top that he knew he could come pick up later as he usually did, “Yeah, let me get my things first.”

You tuned them out as they began speaking in earnest, leaning back to stare at the ceiling, fingers tapping against your elbows almost antsily as they slowly took their leave.

“Hey,” Hiccup looks back at you as your heart beats rapidly in your chest, “I’ll see you later, right?”

“Right,” You say nearly at a mumble, refusing to look him in the eye, your stomach rolling guiltily as the door shuts behind him, “I’ll see you later.”

Your foot nudged the pack you’d prepared out from under the table in the small, shoddy hut you’d managed on the Edge, slinging it over your shoulder as you watched Hiccup and Astrid take off on their dragons through a crack in your window shutters.

He may have found his happiness with the others but you had not, and you fully intended to leave, the same way he’d planned it all those years ago.

You knew what you were doing was wrong. Not saying goodbye, just up and leaving in the middle of the night without telling anyone, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

What would you be leaving behind, anyways? You didn’t have much.

You waited until they were just a small speck in the distance before running out on your own, a pack slung up over your shoulders. The dragon, who you’d parked just behind your hut and who’d spent the past few hours almost patiently waiting for you as you’d spent your sudden and unexpected last few hours with Hiccup, stood to its feet and chirruped as you hoisted yourself up onto its saddle.

Fishlegs was busy in his hut. The twins and Snotlout, maybe they’d notice you leaving but you didn’t have much faith in them asking why or feeling much at all besides a vague expectation that you’d be back later. Everyone went out for a leisure flight every once in a while, it was just about time you’d finally taken yours, after all.

Hiccup and Astrid wouldn’t be back till late doing who knows what. You bit your lip, lightly tapping your Nadder’s side with your heel, signaling for him to take off in the opposite direction, shoving down a deep spike of jealousy at the thought. He was your friend first, and soon he would be nothing to you and it wouldn’t matter at all anymore.

You weren’t sure where exactly you were going. But you knew wherever it was, it would be good as long as it was as far, far away from here as possible.

You grind your teeth, eyes tearing up as a heavy booted foot pushes you down further into the wooden ship floor. The ship rocks angrily as does your dragon, struggling against the barbed netting.

“Who are you? A new vigilante?” The leading trapper, Erik son of Erik or something, asked, bending down above you. He had, coincidentally, been the one to shoot you down.

“Where is your… hideout?” He leaned down into your ear at your silence, speaking in a raspy whisper. You got the vague impression he was trying to be intimidating, though the end results were more in favor of making you blush.

You were thankful for the hard wood covering your face and, therefore, your embarrassment. Of your belongings, you were only able to manage a mask and had taken to running around ensconced in furs with nothing but a dagger to your name.

You’d recon you looked much like a wild animal, straddling your nadder bare of a saddle. You had not done too well on your own. It was hard. You had always been a team player if by team player you meant a leech on society. At least, you had been told so.

So of course you had, unwittingly, stumbled onto dragon trapping territory. Extreme sport dragon trapping territory. It didn’t help that you and your nadder hadn’t been on the same page, you two being unable to sync in the way you’d seen the other riders with their dragons, which left a bitter taste in your mouth.

He’d go left when you were trying for right, and when you finally decided to just go with it, he would change his mind and throw you for a complete loop. It was safe to say that even if you got out of this mess you never wanted to step foot on his back again.

You breathed a silent sigh of relief just as the trapper let out an annoyed one, stepping off of you in favor of yelling at his men for damaging their goods. Meaning, your nadder. Was he really yours, though? He did try and make a break for it without you.

While debating whether or not you should try at the ropes shackling your arms together, you grunt frustratedly, noticing a new tear in your garb.

After running away and getting captured, you had not expected to be kidnapped again by some insane-looking madman in a mask. Though you did look like two of a kind, so it was fitting.

Your nadder had its wings torn irreparably, so, unfortunately, you had to retire him early.

You found small comfort in that it hadn’t abandoned you on the ship that one final time, though the irony that it had led you here was not lost on you.

He visited sometimes. He took to life in the sanctuary very well.

You didn’t, a borderline prisoner before you’d been able to win over the trust of the resident feral gorgon. Sort of. She was a woman who let you see her face, more on accident than anything else. You hadn’t let her see you or hear yours. However you weren’t inclined to speak of her nicely, least of all in your head, after the number of weeks you spent trapped in a cave at her behest.

Finally, you’d been let out. Let out enough to walk more than just the short stretch of stone and greenish ice that made up your prison. The endless turquoise was beginning to make you sick.

Recently, you found a real friend in the sanctuary, and this dragon, it was truly yours. Affectionately named, fed and groomed, you two were almost inseparable. It was the kind of friendship with a dragon you’d completely missed out on on Berk.

It was hard to maintain given your captive status, but that was alright.

There probably wasn’t any social profit involved in being a vigilante, which is why you assumed the crazy dragon lady had taken to speaking at you in her spare time. About the dragons, what they ate, what she had to do. Pointedly she gave away nothing of their true secrets, not that you wanted them, nor anything of her vigilant-ing. Not verbally, though the influx of injuries both on her and the dragons spoke volumes.

She did give away her name.

You groan, rubbing your eyes under your mask as you cradle the thing to your face with the other.

“You’re quite attached to your mask,” Valka said amusedly, shifting the logs roasting in the fire with a stick, pushing them back and forth as you sat in silence. You hardly ever spoke a word, nowadays.

Her dragon, the stormcutter, stared at you with large eyes through the licking flames.

Neither of you mentioned that the only real reason you’d been able to keep your mask so long was that she’d been kind enough to let you. An allowance you’d been given on a whim. One you clung to with all the nervous energy of Fishlegs to his dragon cards.

“... I’d rather not be,” You grumble, voice raspy from disuse, “It’s stuffy.”

“Oh,” Valka looked at you, amused and maybe a little surprised to hear you speak at last, before going back to tend to her fires, “I was starting to think you couldn’t speak.”

“Funny.” You said, lifting a sharpened stick off the ground, spearing it through a slimy, gutted fish from the basket beside you. Your nose wrinkled as you heard the sharp point break skin. No amount of faux stoicism could make it seem pleasant to you.

“I have a few questions,” You grimace under your mask as she asserts herself. She can ask them all she wants, but there’s no guarantee you’ll answer.

You might, probably, as keeping secrets hasn’t always been your strong suit. She’s certainly been trying to open you up for a while. You’ve not given her any leeway before though, no reason to give her any now.

“How did you tame your dragon?” She asked, pushing a particularly thick dragon searching for morsels. Valka guides its head gently away with her spare hand before any of the other dragons crowding around them get any ideas.

You wait for a moment, still wondering whether you should follow along. Eventually, you decide to answer.

“Wasn’t me. Someone else back home did it,” You huff, “I just followed along.”

“...But not very well,” Valka hums. It’s obvious she doesn’t believe you. Unfortunately for her, that is not your problem.

She pulls a small trout off her own stick, tossing it to a crowd of young dragons, who you knew had acquired a taste for the cooked, through no fault of your own.

You should feel offended, but you know she’s right. You lean away from a wandering dragon snout as it searches you for morsels. The stormcutter, after a look from Valka, shoos it away with a large wing.

“Where are you from?”

You feel the embers from the fire as they rise, the furs of your coat becoming nearly unbearable, your skin heated up rapidly. You wrinkle your brow with annoyance as you feel a drop of sweat slide down the side of your face.

“Where are you from?” You retort pointedly.

She studies you cautiously, as if she could glean your intentions from your body language. And she very well could. Or the heat was getting to you, the wells you’d spent in solitude had finally done some real damage to your psyche, and you were hallucinating.

“Berk,” She says. You sit back, surprised, “And you?”

“...None of your business.” You wonder how long it had been since she had left. You pray she would not know you.

Valka raised her eyebrow.

“I’m serious.” You ground your heel into the dirt. It was a touchy subject, still.

“Berk, too. …Stop looking at me like that.”

Valka leaned back against the ice wall where you rested, looking out over the empty ocean as dragons flooded to and fro the sanctuary. You squinted far into the distance, as if you thought you might be able to see through it if you tried hard enough.

Your hair tugged wildly by the winds out from behind your mask as you sat, one leg extended and the other bent as you leaned back against one arm.

You probably looked as you felt, weary and unkempt after a long flight over the seas with your dragon, who clambered among the icy spike-lined wall with clawed hands. You felt refreshed yet somehow at odds with yourself still.

You cared little for your bedraggled demeanor the same way you hadn’t cared for much at all in a while. It might have made a cool picture had you not slipped and fallen onto your face on the ice just a few minutes prior. Whether you had broken your nose or not on your mask had yet to be uncovered. All that mattered was that Valka hadn’t seen.

Dragons crowed. Through the cracks in the walls of the sanctuary, the wind would whistle through if it hit the right angle. Louder than anything else were the sounds of the waves crashing against rock.

But between you and Valka, it was silent. A contemplative silence, the kind of silence you shared with others after a long thought or a hard day’s work. That’s how you knew she was going to break it.

“Why did you leave?”

You are annoyed at the prospect but are no less expectant. After the moment passes, you are not surprised. However, it feels as if you are the one who should be asking.

“Why did I leave?” You ask, “Does it matter?”

A loose chunk of ice falls off the side of the sanctuary as a large titan scrambles violently down the side, chasing after a bright yellow baby. You spot a shape through the fog, distant and blurry enough to resemble a bird though there are no birds here. You pointedly do not think of your small hut, even less of green eyes, and tiny, fading freckles.

Valka tilted her head in your direction, reaching a hand out to scratch Cloudjumper under his chin as he lowered himself towards her, “It mattered to you.”

You open your mouth, but you are only able to choke on your breath. No one has ever said something like that to you, not in a long while. You don’t understand why it’s hitting you so hard. Maybe it’s the isolation.

You blame the burning of your eyes on the biting wind.

“Why did you leave?” You ask in return, once you’ve taken time for yourself, though you have an idea. You can’t keep your voice from sounding a little bit scratchy.

You unhook your dagger from your belt, trying not to seem so attentive. Instead, you take to carving random shapes into the ice. A gronkle. A nadder.

“I was taken.” She sighs, quieter now. Lost off in memory as you both often are.

The nadder’s spikes are much too long. The gronkle looks more like a sandwich than a dragon.

“Taken?” You prompt and you begin on the outline of a fury. The result is shallow and scratchy.

It’s one of your own designs, not the same as the one Berk uses. Astrid liked the other one better, not yours, so that was the one Hiccup went with.

“I didn’t leave,” She insisted, almost as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact, “I had a son, and a husband.”

You’ve seen her by the fires, while trying to sneak out of this hellish ice maze. She talks to herself then. On particularly paranoid days, she’s slept by you, in the same caverns, so you’ve heard it. She talks in her sleep and says things she would never say awake, or had you been around. It’s all so very unsettling.

“Really?” You remarked with false astonishment. The facade is flimsy, but you figured you’d give her the benefit of the doubt. The grace to assume that you’d no idea what she was on about.

With prompting, you might have seen it earlier. In her slim form, the one she kept hidden under thick furs and thicker armor. You squint. They have the same eye color. The same hair. They both have higher cheekbones, though her son more resembles his father in that aspect. That is all.

Valka shoots you a reprimanding look. Cloudjumper, now creeping down the wall behind you, taps you on the back of your head with its tail at her behest.

Valka was of the air. Though he had the same flighty tendencies, he was very grounded, like his father, though he might either be proud or loath to admit it. He loved flying, yes, but he loved inventing and processing and routine just as much, if not more.

He did when you were close. Of course he did, he spent his whole life on it. You couldn’t really say you knew him anymore.

You didn’t pin Valka as the type to enjoy the same in any sort of manner. But that suited you just as well. You found that as time went by and as you were granted more freedoms, you appreciated it. It made it easier for you to forget. To ignore.

In the end they, you and she, she and you, were one and the same.

“But what does it matter, if you never went back?” You grumble, pushing your dragon’s head away as it nudges you towards the cliff, crooning for more flying time.

You guessed that was why she clung so viciously to the safety of her sanctuary. Why she hated other people so much, why she’d had no faith in the humanity of other people, why she’d held you here so strictly. If things could have been different, then what did she give it all up for?

Though you’d never had something else. Not even the option. You’d never been given it. Valka hadn’t been given it either, but there was a sure difference between something being there and not.

The atmosphere is silent again, tainted with some darker undertones. If you’d had to put a name to it, you might have called it grief.

“I want to leave.”

Valka doesn’t look surprised at your request. And indeed, it’s been no secret that you wanted to leave. Maybe she was glad for it, or maybe she was sad at the news.

After all, you settled into each other's presence long ago. You had a good sort of companionship.

And from that companionship, you learned a lot without even trying, just by watching. Eventually she took notice and she took an active part in teaching you the truths she learned during all her years in self-imposed isolation.

You two weren’t incredibly close but you could tell Valka was grateful for the company, grateful to have someone maybe even a little bit like her, even if most of it was spent in silence.

You still left the Drago fighting for her. It wasn’t your fight, it was hers, and you made that clear.

Neither of you brought up Berk. Ever.

You were content to just come and go as you pleased, for a while. Nonetheless, despite your freedom, you felt restricted to the small world of the Sanctuary and the empty skies around it. There was no place for you on the ground or by the seas, where hunters and trappers swarmed by the thousands and Drago’s armies grew by the day.

You spent so much time learning from her and yet it felt like no time at all. Which was why you were shocked when you’d truly learned how much had come and gone in full.

You were out slinking in the shadows, seeking shelter from a storm on the same small rocky outcropping of island that had a shipful of trappers stranded, in a rage and a panic as they attempted to recover their assets. The winds had been too rough to fly, so you had no choice but to wait and listen.

You didn’t believe it at first. It had been…

Months.

You wondered if he’d been married, yet.

Years.

The idea hurt, not as much as you’d thought it would, still not as little as you’d hoped.

Under clear skies, you found an inn, untouched by everything except grass and trees.

You asked, “What day is it?”

The large man, a burly viking scrubbing down a wooden cup with a torn old rag, had looked down at you skeptically from behind a beaten pine and stone counter.

Two years. It had been nearly two years since you left Berk. Just as Valka’s attachments kept her at the Sanctuary, you needed to go. To run.

Since you had heard it, spoken it, the urge to run, to fly hadn’t abated at all, going from a wispy thought at the back of your mind to a full blown need. Your dragon too had become antsy, maybe feeding off of your nervous energy. Eager to take off, to fly new skies.

“Are you sure?” Valka asked searchingly. You two were stationed over a heavily planted cliff over a large main pool which consisted of the main cavern within the Sanctuary, once again in front of a fire, eating your own meals as the dragons below ate and exchanged fish.

You were already packed, your mask secured as it had been for all two years you had been in this place stuck between confinement and dwelling. You almost regretted it, not telling her your name, but you couldn’t bear yourself to her knowing who she was, not truly. Not until you’d washed yourself of that particular weight.

“Yes,” One day you would, if you ever saw her again. Once you were released from the heartache and pain of your own making, “I am. Thank you.”

You started out into the pale foggy sky, mounted your beast as smooth as you’d ever done, which is to say, not smooth at all. You’d only ever managed it right when Valka was watching, anyhow. It was odd how that worked, maybe the peer pressure was finally starting to kick in.

As you took off and the sanctuary became smaller and smaller both to your eyes and your mind, as the tight bundle of chains in your chest dropped and the world opened up to you once more, you felt light, and free.

Once again, there was no one to watch you and no one to hurt for besides your and your dragon. Endless opportunity. Thousands of ways to keep going.

You wondered what your face looked like.

You couldn’t wait to see it again.

Hiccup traced the faint outline of a Night Fury in the ice with his fingertips.

He tried to suppress the bubbling hope and dread at the thought his mother had been lying to him and his father about being alone all those years.

He had left to get some air and to give his parents time together to linger while the snowstorm outside abated, taking shelter under a misty overhang of ice just off one of the tunnels leading back into the main dwelling. One that had fortunately not fallen victim to the heavy layers of snow drowning the uncovered surfaces below.

Toothless had followed him out, of course, and sniffled curiously at the ground, giving the other few doodles littered across the ice an inspection of his own. Hiccup sat back, covering his mouth with his hand as he mulled over the implications.

He then stood, staring back into the tunnel leading back into the sanctuary. Much of the awe he had felt earlier at the discovery of his mother had washed away and a wave of uncertainty and hurt replaced it.

He knew he had been given grace. A lot more than he deserved.

Since everything had changed, terrible mistakes became minor inconveniences. People no longer whispered about Hiccup the weird, Hiccup the Useless, the Hiccup who just didn’t get it. Rather, every jest on his behalf was now just another one of his strange little quirks.

He did his part. He was happy to have a part now. A real one.

(He’d had a part. Blacksmith, inventor, friend.)

(Mistake.)

He thought they’d do the same for you. But you weren’t doing well. Even though he was busy with his new role, he noticed. He noticed when you fell behind, when you still couldn’t seem to find your place.

(His father, looking at him with shining eyes.)

He begged for you to not fumble this chance that you both had to be different. To be a part of something real, something tangible.

(He was so proud.)

Except.

(It made him sick.)

He knew what it was like. To be the odd one out, to not be able to do things quite the way you were supposed to. After all, if he hadn’t had Toothless then he would still be the same old Hiccup.

(He felt like the same old Hiccup.)

So yeah, it made sense that you weren’t always the first on call. It made sense, when you lagged behind. Why you weren’t part of the group the same way everyone else was.

(Was he?)

Like a wall had been shattered and the curtains pulled, he’d been witness to some of the moments between the other Dragon Riders he’d not been included in when he was ‘other.’ Moments that he just couldn’t quite indulge in, that used to be aimed at him, that caused something ugly and sad to curl tight in his stomach.

That left the sour taste of stomach acid on his tongue that he couldn’t wash away, no matter what he drank or how many times he tried.

So he vouched for you when the whispers started. Hounded them until they stopped, despite the creeping feeling that they were right. Clung tightly onto the few moments you were able to spend together. The way things used to be.

(Pushed down the tiny voice telling him he still didn’t belong.)

Days. It took days for them to notice you were gone. Truly gone. And they couldn’t be sure at all when it had happened, what or why.

They assumed you were dead. Once the next devastating winter set in, there was no way you could have made it on your own.

They locked your hut. An empty grave. The key, he’d taken and melted down into other things.

But. there was always a but.

Hiccup was a good handyman. For the most part. He’d caused a lot of handy-requiring, meaning he’d had a lot of practice.

He broke your lock.

Hiccup stared down at the piles of maps, noted, traced and copied sprawled across your desk, pulled out from underneath a loose floorboard by your bed. He clenched the various compasses and sea charts hidden in drawers and carelessly thrown under dishware.

It turned out you had a lot of free time on your hands.

There was something missing. Something missed when the other riders would joke and prod, wielding inside jokes he’d never been privy to just as easily as they wielded swords and hammers. And now he had no one to share with when they did.

There was something missing late at night working on a new tailfin, or a rig, or early in the morning when he was too tired to piece metal jigs together.

It just wasn’t the same, going to Fishlegs or Snotlout with these things, and heaven knows that Astrid wouldn’t entertain the idea at all. It was the dragons that appealed to her most. She was an early riser and an early sleeper and for many reasons she appealed to him, but she just couldn’t be what Hiccup needed. Not then.

You faded away as if you were a ghost, a door to a room no one used.

They didn’t get how it felt to spend all those years being the odd one out. He needed someone who got it. He needed someone who got him. A friend.

And like a note in the margins of a bad story, eventually no one mentioned you at all.

He flew as far and as fast as he could. Mapping the world, exploring farther and farther, as if he might somehow be able to trace your footsteps, following a lost trail that one day a long time ago you might have paved.

He’d flown as if, once he’d flown far enough, he might have been able to understand where you’d gone.

(Why you left him.)

They figured a way to identify dragons through scale patterns. It was a skill Fishlegs had perfected first, taking vague, long held knowledge and putting it into practice, doing the math.

Hiccup ran his hand down the side of this dragon, eyeing the torn wings, the spiked crown. The jaw.

Recording its age, its gender, his place of origin.

“You know this dragon?” Valka asked cautiously. Distrustfully. She was leaning against her staff, face guarded. He didn’t need to look to know that last bit, he heard it just fine.

Hiccup furrowed his brow. Two fish, a scratch under the chin. Dragon nip, a saddle, carefully woven and tenderly worn.

“I trained it.”

Hiccup leaned forward against Toothless, urging him ever onwards against the rough, buffeting winds and vicious onslaught of snow. Higher and higher until they cut above the clouds, breaching the threshold of the storm, evading it altogether.

Your absence had long since become an idea. Your person, a concept that eluded him time and time again, as inescapable yet unreachable as his own grieving heart.

But now, with the news from his father, his mother… he’d set out immediately, with not a word to spare despite Gobber warning him of the oncoming storm.

You were only two days departed. Two days out, a mirage turned real and he pursued it with all the desperation of a child. Finally, nearly, you were almost tangible. Reachable, physical, real.

There was no telling how far you’d gone or how far you’d go if you’d been given the chance to flee. He needed to catch up, catch you, see you.

Happy to be on your own again, you’d taken a few days rest just outside of Valka’s territory. You didn’t expect to be caught off guard like that. You didn’t expect to be found, even by accident. It was just your luck.

“Damn it!” Peering from around the bend, you spotted a man. And he was a man now, a long shot away from the kids you two were.

He was masked, hidden just out of view inside the crack between a rocky craig, where you’d set up camp. However the unmistakable form of Toothless followed suit as the two fought the wind and storm, searching for shelter.

You brushed your hand over your own mask, your dragon breathing over your shoulder as it too surveyed the newcomers. They had crash landed quite suddenly and you’d rushed to compensate, hiding before they could notice. Hopefully they hadn’t noticed. He nor Toothless wouldn’t ever notice, not if you played your cards right.

You wondered if he remembered you at all. If he knew or if he’d ever had the mind to think about you. What brought him here. Maybe he’d just been chasing a whim. You pushed back a large animal skull with your foot, the mangled remnants of your attempt to fashion a new helmet with no face.

Toothless shook his head, looking at Hiccup sourly as they trudged on towards an outcropping near the center of the small island they’d found themselves on.

Hiccup rubbed his arms grievously, staring out towards the sea, not sure the place wouldn’t be overtaken should a particularly large wave come to shore. There was no way he’d be able to catch up to you now, not in this rough weather. He prayed that the storm would give but the chances of that were low and he had little hope.

He stumbled slightly as he was buffeted forwards, finally making it to the entrance of a nigh hidden, narrow space carved into a crack in the large rock. Toothless snuffled at his back, urging him forward, though he had to take pause at the entrance as he spotted movement in the back.

A dragon? Or…

You hadn’t played your cards right.

You cursed as you ran further into the cave and towards the opening you knew lay at the back, your dragon already there, packed and ready. You had to run back after the realization you’d forgotten your dagger, which you probably should have just left behind.

“Hey, wait!”

You grit your teeth as Hiccup made chase, running past your dead fire and crumbling fish bones. You would have been caught had the passage not been too narrow for him and Toothless to run side-by-side. It was just luck that he hadn’t yet thought to jump back onto his saddle.

You increased your speed as the passage started to open up and swung onto your own dragon, kicking off and just missing Hiccup as he skidded to a stop. Toothless lept in front of him right after.

You could just imagine the two of them vaulting into the sky, a common scene turned frightening image as you and your own dragon bolted.

You’d had plenty of experience flying through this kind of weather. You hadn’t always, and the vikings on Berk hadn’t much at all, choosing to hole up with their dragons when the snow got too rough.

It gave you the advantage, one you needed if Hiccup decided to follow. There was no way to tell with the snow this thick, and with Toothless, he’d be nearly impossible to outmaneuver. You stayed under the clouds, hoping to keep your cover, as traveling into the open sky now would most definitely give you away.

What you could make out below between flurries of hail and flakes was nothing but open ocean and large mountains of ice, which passed you by in less than an instant as you sped as far away as possible, using the winds to uplift instead of hindering you.

You scanned the area around you, looking for a sound place to escape and hide. Something caught your eye but just barely and you swooped downwards.

With what happened next, you might have been caught off guard had it not been for the yelling you could make out just barely above the wind. Instead you were just incredibly scared as a large mass spiraled into you, sending the four of you tumbling and screaming down into the cavern below.

Through the vertigo you were able to kick Hiccup, untangling your limbs with force as your dragon took unsteadily to the air again.

“Wait- Come back!” He shouted, leaning forwards, arm extended towards you. Toothless roared.

“No!” You yelled stubbornly back as you twisted to glare at him through your mask.

Regrettably, it seems that the Night Fury remained undefeated in terms of speed and inescapability as he soon caught up to you again, Toothless grabbing onto your dragon’s tail and with a hard yank, forcing your landing onto a nearby ledge, large and long enough to facilitate your rough spill and roll against hard gravel.

Your mask cracked as it was thrown against the ground, loudly echoing as it clattered against hard stone.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to- It was really rough out there, and I-” Hiccup stumbled to his feet, shaking his mechanical foot out of Toothless’ saddle, heart pounding as you looked up at him behind scraggly hair, crouched a good few strides forwards

He’d found the experience novel when he’d seen it on his Dad, an outsider looking in. But to experience it firsthand… He knew what his father meant, when he said ‘You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.’

Even seeing you as messed up and wild as you were squeezed his breath out of his chest. Maybe even made you more… Whatever this was. Whatever you were to him.

You definitely looked different, a little older, features more defined, but he’d die before he’d cease to recognize that face.

He had to shut his mouth, lips pursed as if to hold back all the memories flooding back into his mind, faster than the winds blowing up on the surface. You two, as kids in the meadows, complaining about life and dads, sneaking around the Great Hall, causing messes and being scolded.

He realized what it was that he’d felt and missed so deeply. It was something he’d known, hidden so deep inside, realized much too late.

You held back tears as the life you’d tried so hard to forget had finally caught up to you. Within an instant, this new life you had built for yourself had completely fallen apart.

You saw the man- because you begged for it not to be him, and you’d exhausted all your avenues, and the only option you had left was denial, took a shaky step forward, pulling his helmet back over his head with both hands, revealing a face lathered in sweat despite the cool conditions.

Trolls.

“Why…” Your voice, scratchy and ragged, was easily heard despite your whispering as there was nothing else to be heard, “Are you here?”

“Why… Am I…?” Hiccup asked incredulously, staring at you wide-eyed.

“Yes!” You shout, shoving the hair out of your face as you stood abruptly, “What in the world are you doing here?” Your dragon, laying behind you, began to stand, cautiously crouching against the ground.

“I came looking for you!” He looked like you’d kicked his puppy. You bared your teeth at him.

“You came looking for me? You chased me through a storm like a maniac! Can’t you take a hint?! Gods,” You grip your shoulder, “You probably broke my shoulder, curse it!”

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I hurt you, that I-” Hiccup stepped forward. Toothless growled, behind him, “But you left! What was I supposed to do with that?”

“What you were supposed to do with that? You tackled me to the ground!” It had been so long.

“You didn’t even say goodbye!”

“You’re mad about goodbyes? Was the goodbye I gave you not good enough?!” He had scruff now, a light dusting of peach fuzz spotting along his chin. His hair was redder, his eyes greener. Or maybe that was the lighting.

“You went missing for two years! So I chased after you. Who wouldn’t? In what world would ‘I’ll see you later’ ever be enough? Ever?” It’s not like he ever gave you a goodbye. Not before he’d left you in the dust.

“I was hurt! And what are you- how do you even remember that, anyways?” You scoff loudly. But in the end he was still the same boy. He would have taken anyone else at their whim as a friend or otherwise. Yet he didn’t even recognize your companionship or your silly little crush. Wasn’t that disheartening?

Hiccup stomped forwards, causing you to step back. Your dragon snarled and followed as Toothless began to circle, trapping you and Hiccup in the middle of a very dangerous tango.

“How could I-? You’d- Just- Have you ever considered that maybe I was hurting, too? I spent so long just trying to fix- everything! I spent so long doing, and then you just leave and I can’t do anything about it! Do you know how painful that was? Why didn’t- why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you talk to me? Why?” He had worked hard. So, so hard.

He probably would have chosen Ruffnut’s hand over yours. He thought she was terrible.

“Why?” You asked him, throwing your arms out, squishing the little ball of guilt worming around in your stomach, “Why didn’t you talk to me? Do you know how much it hurt, to be constantly left behind like- like your old scraps, and maybe I got tired of hearing about it! Hearing about all of it! Your standing, your dad, your stupid girlfriend! Could you not just be happy with what you had?”

“What-”

He did get Astrid, though. He pursued her even though, for the longest time, she remained just ever so out of his league. The same way he was and wasn’t out of yours. Yeah, you were jealous. So, so jealous.

Of her, of his cousin and all his other friends for pushing you around and squeezing you out of his life. You were mad at him for letting them, after all they’d done to the both of you.

“I got made fun of! All the damn time! And your head was so full of air- you were too busy jerking your own ego to notice!” Your eyes stung as you shouted at him.

“Up my own ego!” Hiccup stopped, “No one wanted me as I was. I spent so long trying to make everything work for everyone else! What I had-I wanted you to have it too! So why? Why did you leave?”

“You say that, but-” You grimace and, “Shouldn’t it be obvious? Maybe I didn't want that! Did- did you ever stop to consider that maybe I wanted you? You didn’t have to make anything up for me! You-! It was all about you!”

“I- Honestly, you have to- All my life, I-”

“I have to what?! We had the same life, Hiccup!”

“I know!” Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Then, quicker than you could react, he grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled you closer just enough- It wasn’t pleasant at all, all force and teeth against lip. But the next one.

He pulled back, readjusted and you slipped together seamlessly. Closed-mouthed, but he clearly knew what he was doing, kissing you that way. You held onto his elbows, unmoving yet still, frozen by shock. He’d gotten his practice in with Astrid.

The thought sent a wave of fury down your spine. You punched him.

He reared back from the blow, accepting yet more startled than physically hurt as, just like him, you’d never had much muscle. Still, you’d left what was quickly becoming a nice red welt on his face.

Your dragons stared at the both of you in shock, yours more in confusion than Toothless. There weren’t many Vikings in the sanctuary, so the meaning behind the gesture, the punch and the kiss, was probably lost.

“I thought…” He mumbled, eyes wide again, speaking as though whatever just happened, hadn’t, “I thought everything was fine. Fine enough. Between us.” You looked at him, the place where your heart used to be all twisted up and torn.

He was a liar. He was a liar, and you wouldn’t let him one over you. Not again. You didn’t want him to, more than anything else.

In spite of that, emotionally and physically, you were exhausted. You could only manage sadness. You weren’t sure you had the energy to push him away.

“You thought wrong.” You didn’t want to speak to him at all.

“Please, don’t-” he fell apart, voice hushed and cracking as he spoke. He took the final step towards you, burying his head against your shoulder. You stood stiff, staring out over into the scenery beyond his back and yet unseeing.

It was weird, having said everything you’d needed to say, that you’d bottled up for so many years. It defined you for so long that having it all out in the open kind of made you feel like you’d lost something essential.

“I see it. I see it now. I really do,” He whispered that last part tearfully, fingers gripping weakly onto the fabric of your sleeves. You felt as though a stiff breeze might blow him away, “Please, don’t leave me. Not again.”

He couldn’t say that.

“I can’t let you go again,” He really couldn’t say that.

“Just... Just tell me what you want.” He couldn’t say that, either. Toothless shot you a scathing glare, your dragon all but forgotten as he tugged Hiccup back. Your dragon unfurled its wings behind you, standing tall and proud as he pulled away towards the entrance to the cavern.

You met Hiccup’s gaze.

“Just do me this.” You choked out, watching as his expression switched from despaired to flat and back again, “Go away,”

“Please.” You said.

And he did. He turned tail and ran.

It was over.

As he flew away on Toothless, becoming nothing but a pinprick in your periphery before finally disappearing up the cavern entrance, you fell back down onto your knees.

You weren’t sure what to do anymore. The most important decision of your life was made with his ghost nipping at your heels. Truly, he haunted you. Whether he was with you or not, he always haunted you.

But the dragons here, untouched by the outside world, were kind. And curious. Once the threat was gone and the commotion was over, many came over to examine the newcomers, sniffing and prodding at you and your things.

They were welcoming enough. So you set up shop.

Hiccup laid flat against his bed, staring at the ceiling of his childhood home. He felt torn in every single direction all at once.

He’d left when his people needed him. When his father had needed him. Drago had attacked while he’d been gone, and all that was left of the sanctuary now was rubble. Then he’d gone after Berk. Hiccup had only just gotten there in time.

His father was fine, his mother… alive. After twenty years. Everyone was accounted for, but what if they hadn’t been? If he’d been there, maybe there would have been less damage, less people hurt.

But he wouldn’t have found you if he’d stayed. Finally, after all this time. He'd realized how long it truly had been since you left, lost to him even before you’d actually run off on your… the, nadder.

The floorboards creaked as someone made their way up the stairs to the loft, the front door swinging shut behind him. Hiccup didn’t move, just glancing to the side to see who it was that came to get him this time.

“Astrid,” He sighed. The two of them were distant and had been for a long while, despite the fact that they were supposed to be in a relationship. He’d been off a lot for that whole long while, which she hadn’t much minded as she’d found herself more interested in other things. And… he’d found his heart had a new owner.

“It’s been a month, Hiccup,” She rolled her head back, exhausted, as if reciting a tired script that she’d been reading off for ages, one that no one wanted to listen to anymore, “Everyone is fine. You don’t have to hole up so often. I don’t know why you did it, but no one is mad you left, you know. You couldn’t have known.”

“Yeah…” Hiccup sighed, “Yeah, I know.”

“You need to get out,” She looked around his room, which was very much a mess of parts and papers, and ran her hand down a large map, laid flat over the only remotely clear space he had, his desk, “if you don’t next thing you know, a month’ll be four.”

“Why are you so obsessed with this place? … Does it have anything to do with the time you spent missing?” Astrid questioned. Hiccup propped himself up, turning over alarmed as he heard the sound of skin on paper. It had been freshly inked.

“No,” He’d guessed at where the two of you had ended up. He was sure that he’d be able to find it again, given the chance. He would. After he worked up the courage.

After all, you’d… You didn’t want to be found.

“Hey, wait, that’s-” He scrambled onto his one leg, kicking aside his prosthetic and jamming his toe in the process.

“Ah, ow, ow, don’t touch that, please,” Astrid rolled her eyes and tossed the cylinder to his bed and he picked it up, examining it thoroughly as she sauntered off.

You weren’t sure why, but he kept coming back

“Hi,” He said awkwardly, shifting from foot to peg nervously. This was the first time he’d caught you. The first time he’d spotted you was the last but you’d made off that time before he could see you.

“Why are you here?” You stared at him, blank faced. Why didn’t you leave, curse it.

Your dragon waved its tail playful from the side, waiting for Hiccup to go. The other ones wouldn’t come out while he was here. It felt good in a vindictive sort of way, because dragons had always been this thing, except this time you were the one with the secret dragon knowledge. And the upper hand. Sort of. They didn’t hide from you.

“I like… “ He flushed, “I like hearing you talk?”

“Sure,” You suggested, turning and starting off again, basket under arm and over rock as you began unsteadily making your way back up to home cave. You liked it there because you didn’t have to leave much for anything.

“Wait, wait, wait wait,” Hiccup stuttered. As you had your arms over a particularly steep ledge, your legs waved nonsensically and scrambled against the side as you searched for a foot grip, “Just, uh, let me-”

“Come back tomorrow,” You grunted after you managed to finally get one leg up the side. You’d probably figure out what to say by then.

You felt better here, like maybe you weren’t meant for people. Not for dragons either, not really. The dragons here didn’t need defending or anything, it’s not like there was anyone down here to defend against besides other dragons. The most you’d had to go out for was food, and even that was made or stolen easily enough.

Being here gave you enough time to make you think that maybe you were meant just for yourself.

You sat by the spray by the falls, enjoying the mist as it sprayed onto your face and the echoing sounds of the water hitting gray stone.

“Toothless, come on- Just please, I know you don’t want- but-” Your eyes shot open, the distant voice of Hiccup bounced around the empty cavern, your moment ruined.

You looked around for the pair, trying to figure out which direction you should be running before. Suddenly, it felt like you’d been drenched by a whole lot more than a mist as Toothless landed messily behind you.

“What are you doing here?” You were careful to keep your balance as you shuffled further inland, looking a lot like a drenched cat as you came face-to-face with an also sopping wet Hiccup

You would never be rid of him.

“You said to come back tomorrow?” He asked, twisting his fingers and very purposefully refusing to look you in the eye.

Of course, you hadn’t figured out what to say.

You blew a raspberry as you adjusted the stolen, waterlogged basket which you had, again, under your arm. You needed more than two pairs of clothes.

“...Come back later,” You grumbled, “Later than tomorrow.”

You’d been free for a week. You’d been hoping for maybe two, to be frank.

“Please, I just-” Hiccup huffed, traveling by foot while you rode your dragon. Toothless followed behind, grumbling and gurgling at Hiccup judgmentally. Clearly whatever good will you’d built up with him before you ran left had been more than lost.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” You stare straight ahead, over the encroaching cliff, ducking round and under ledges as your dragon trotted onwards.

“I want to get to know you, again.”

Eventually, the cave dragons had warmed up to Hiccup and he was able to work his magic on them. Now they watched through stalagmites and stalactites with impassive eyes as he made chase.

“Uh huh,” You scoffed as you reached the edge of the ledge. You turned around and stuck out your tongue as your dragon took a violent leap into the open air. As the wind whistled around you, you pinwheeled your arms in an effort to try and keep balance.

“Come on, Toothless, bud,” Hiccup complained from way behind. You saw Toothless very decidedly sit down, refusing to move even as Hiccup tried to push him towards the cliff with his whole upper body, “Let’s go.”

“So,” Hiccup started, “You haven’t gone any deeper.”

The both of you stared out into the vast, glowing sea of towers and gigantic glowing mushrooms extending out of their jagged rock faces. In the distance you could spot gigantic crystals, protruding from the ground the same way the sanctuary did.

Seas of dragons crowed and chirped, bright patterns shifting and growing under hard muscle. It was very dizzying, if you were going to be honest.

“No,” You replied, “No, I haven’t. Not this far, but now I… I might.”

You hadn’t traveled too far into the cavern, deciding not to push your luck with the locals. You always figured there was some sort of nest farther in. Turns out there was, and a whole lot more locals than you expected, and a lot more to this small world besides the cold, empty cavern. At least you didn’t have to worry about flooding anymore. Or sea salt in your hair.

You swore to yourself that you were going to move further in, caught off guard and most definitely embarrassed at the fact that so much open space had been hiding right under your nose.

Free for three days.

“There has to be more. There’s no way- It doesn’t make sense how all these different kinds of dragons can live in the same environment. There’s- there’s so much here that-Gods, I have to map it,” Hiccup rambled, smiling gawkily.

He’d been here for a week.

You felt a pressure to supervise him as he ran rampant in your new home, unsure of when he’d become such a cartographer. Your dragons had gone missing a while ago, leaving you two to be babysat by the hands of the general public.

You watched as he painstakingly mapped each pillar, occasionally chiming in with your own advice, looking the same way he did the day he discovered honey when you were kids. It was almost pleasant.

The two of you had fallen off the edge of a pillar after being knocked down during a spat between two touchy Crimson Goregutters, which no Hiccup magic or dragon secret could stop. After an event with a vine, dangling over certain death and panic, you two had managed to swing your way onto a large glowing mushroom.

The downside to that was that now, you were stuck, owed to the fact that apparently, what made some of these mushrooms glow was very viscous and… sticky.

Hiccup’s arms were glued to the space on both sides of your head, and your hands were gripping his arms which were visibly shivering, because you two had been stuck like this for a while. You’d been tugged, prodded at and licked by various different dragons. Nothing helped and you were starting to think that maybe this was how you were going to die.

Well, you knew you weren't going to go to Valhalla. It was kind of really hard to die in battle if you spent most of your time avoiding people. But this just sucked.

“What's up with your pathological need to map everything?” You asked belligerently. To be honest, it didn’t really bother you. Hiccup’s rambling had never bothered you, because you were prone to rambling in the same exact way. Currently though you were hard pressed to find anyone else to hear it.

“I thought your thing was the forge? You spent half of my childhood there.”

“Well, yeah, I…” He rested his forehead against yours, eyes shut as his neck finally gave out, you weren’t too pleased as you felt his sweat drip onto your face, squirming rebelliously.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d want to hear it. I-I could talk about that instead?” No talking at all would be great.

“Yeah,” You gave in, closing your eyes and going limp against the slimy fungi, “That would be better.”

Lips pursed, then grimaced as he’d opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out, though. He just stared above your head, unmoving. You tried to see what he was looking at, but only got an eyeful of his scruff.

Next thing you know, you’re being smothered by a plushy pink tongue, then just licked and nosed a little bit. The spit of this dragon doing something odd to dissolve the slime trapping the two of you, fizzing as it touched shiny goo. When you finally had the facilities to move, you flipped your head back and your eyes widened slightly.

It looked like the two of you had just found Toothless a girlfriend.

Three months, two days and five visits- no, seven. Nine? Eleven? Seventeen?

“I don’t actually have a problem… with the mapping. Talking about it.”

You two were nestled between a rock and another rock, though this time whether it was a result of purpose or chance remained uncertain. You couldn’t remember. You were after something… There was barely any space between the two of you. You had been talking.

There was barely any green to Hiccup’s eyes, most of his iris consumed by large pupils as he mouthed around works that looked suspiciously like, “Can I…?”

Instead, he leaned forwards and your foreheads touched, the same way they did when you were trapped before. His eyes were clenched shut as he uttered, “I love you.”

You had a hard time believing that.

You turned your head to the side.

“I wonder how Astrid feels about her boyfriend flying off and doing who knows what.”

Some of the wild dragons lay in front of you, licking at the dying fire by your feet. A terror lay in the middle of it. You’d lined it with stones which were now giving off a pleasant warmth.

“I doubt she’d mind. We’re not really… together anymore. I don’t think so. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t want to be.”

“Right,” You raised an eyebrow at him skeptically.

“Not since a little while after you left, actually.”

You found that hard to believe too, as you shook the burnt slice of fish off your knife onto your burnt slice of bread. You weren’t much better than Valka at cooking, but you were getting better. It was something about that sanctuary, or maybe something about that woman that just made you worse at cooking.

Hiccup wrinkled his nose over on the other side of your log as he shook his head at you.

It was a petty, but bitter sort of revenge.

Your first kiss had been lost to a fair bloke- his words, not yours- in the middle-of-nowhere inn. It had been a long time since you’d been out, but you were sure you’d easily be able to find somewhere similar to lose some other things. Hiccup had your heart but you’d never give him the opportunity to take any of your firsts.

Two months.

You were angry at him for playing with your heart again.

“There was a crisis-Berk…” His voice cracked.

You looked disinterestedly out over uncanny black waters. “Yeah, It’s fine.”

Seven days, seven visits. He might have been camping aboveground.

The two of you were between two large red fungi, settled on a mossy rock overlooking a new, larger, unmapped maze of rock pillars and black water rushing below. Dragons, glowing and colorful, mingled together off in the distance. Toothless was probably one, gone off to frolic with his new lady love.

“You never wanted me. As a friend, as a- …battle buddy, or as anything else. You would never have chosen me for anything. And I just… I didn’t want to be just what you settled for,” You mumbled into your knees, “You spent so long searching for better, and then you found it, and it just really hurt to realize that I wasn’t a part of that.”

You spilt your heart out as you faced the cliffside. Hiccup was facing you. You didn’t care what he heard. None of this was real anyways.

“I’m sorry,” Hiccup repeated, clenching his eyes shut as he buried his nose into your shoulder, barely there though he had to crane his head forwards, due to the uncomfortable angle.

What he had with Astrid these past few years, that was real. That was history. This thing between the two of you was just a mess of pain and turmoil and a little bit of childhood fantasy. An old infatuation rearing its head as you got everything nasty out of your system.

“It hurt to think that-That… the one person- Like everyone else did, you didn’t think I was good enough either.”

“I’m sorry.” You felt his arms come around your sides awkwardly before he squeezed.

“Me too. I…”

He’d remember that he didn’t want-need- you again soon enough.

“I haven’t told anyone. About you, or this place.”

“You haven’t?” You’d actually expected otherwise. It was nice to know you weren’t at risk of getting dropped in on.

Two months, thirty two visits.

You might be coming around to him.

“You’ve already-?” He asked, a little startled. You still felt a little silly about it but after you’d done it, you figured it wasn’t that big of a deal. It wasn’t like you’d planned to marry or anything anyways, so his reaction was kind of funny.

“Yeah, I was pretty mad. So I went out, and… you know. It was a while ago, though.”

He looked a little disheartened at the idea, but he just scoffed, waving his hand off in your direction.

“What? You and Astrid kissed, yeah, but you haven’t done- anything? Not even before you ‘totally broke up,’” You didn’t have to specify what they hadn’t done, the innuendo was already pretty obvious.

“Nah.” Hiccup said, hair wiped out of his face, matched squares of parchment. Map pieces were strewn out in front of him as he made himself busy trying to create a complete chart of the underground, matching up the landscape he saw with the islands above it.

Unfortunately, the caverns seemed to stretch on forever and the islands only covered so much.

Three months, one day, thirty two hours.

You straddled him, crinkling some of the many, many blueprints scattered across the moss surface. You wiggled one out from under him, looking down as he looked up. It felt good, being the one in charge for once.

You leaned down, pressing your noses together. Just before, you’d been going over his things. His blueprints. Swapping ideas. Sharing minds. Like you used to, every single day. Like you’d been doing, almost every single day.

“Do you love me?” You asked.

Every day you’d been together. Your knees touched, shoulders pressed close together.

You had to know. And if he did… He had to mean it.

You played games, shared stories. You’d grappled and curled, not the way vikings could, but the way two hiccups did, a long, long time ago.

If he didn’t, well… You had all the time in the world to leave, to start again. But you didn’t think you could. You could go weeks without seeing him, and then sometimes it would be every other day.

This was it.

“I do love you,” He choked out, wheezing as you adjusted, your weight pressing against his chest. He glanced back at you, crumbling a little bit.

He spent a lot of time here, now. A lot more than before. With the time spent traveling in between, as he said it, it was a wonder he got anything done there at all. Most of his time was spent above mapping the islands or down here with you.

You read what his body language told you; he was insecure.

“... Do you love me?”

“I do.” Hesitantly, you nodded, “I do.” Was that even a question?

You trusted him. You didn’t trust him. You had no way to know if he stabbed you in the back again. Went back to Astrid. You didn’t really have a way to know if that’s what he did, every time he left.

You loved him, didn’t you?

He didn’t know that? Maybe not always and not all at once, since you left. You hadn’t done a very good job of making him know it. You hadn’t a lot of reason to.

Did you love him now?

You marveled at how easy it was to be around him, with him. It wasn’t the same as it was before, but it was still good. It could almost be better. You, against everything, wanted it. You wanted it so bad.

“I’d leave it all behind, for you,” Hiccup said.

You would make him know it.

“You would?” You asked, “Would you?”

You laid your heart bare to him, stitched and spiked. And you, as he said it, implied it, maybe you held his.

“Do you want me to?” He asked. He tugged lightly on one of the draws to your tunic, faking interest in it as he worried the inside of his cheek. You didn’t want his home, or his family.

“I don’t want anything,” You scoffed dismissively. You wanted his honesty. You wanted to know that he was yours. Yours truly. That was it.

Prove it. You urged him on, Prove it to me.

He smiled that goofy, awkward smile, half teeth and all closed at the edges. You could tell he was trying hard not to falter. You hadn’t seen that smile in such a long time.

Know me, You asked.

“So… Do you? Do you love me?” He asked again, offering his hand up to your face. His fingers were scabbed, and dirty and you leaned into his palm, pushing it down as he tangled his fingers clumsily into the roots of your hair. You pressed your lips together, again, again and over again until neither of you could breathe.

Have me, You pleaded.

“I do,” You gasped into his mouth, “I really, really do.” You offered no resistance. Not this time.

Love me.

There was no coming back.

(Deep in your mind, you wondered if maybe, possibly, he already did.)

Twelve months. Twelve months since he’d found you.

Hiccup stood at the edge of Berk, armor packed away in favor of a lighter tunic. He often wondered what it would have been like, if he’d really run away with you like he’d intended.

If things would have ended up the same.

Would he have seen you in time? In time for what he had now? For this?

No. no, probably not.

…

His father would notice. His mother might.

His father was fine. And now he had his mother. They were old, but they were tough. They could have a new kid. Or maybe they’d convince Snotlout or Astrid to take the mantle.

They’d-everyone-would be fine without him.Who was he kidding? He’d spent so long working so hard and they didn’t need him at all. And if he was honest, He didn’t need them.

He didn’t really care. Not anymore. He let go.

Life would go on just fine without him, just as it did before him and just as it would long after his name was lost to time. His distance only proved it. He spent so long away he’d been practically excommunicated again.

After a little bit of irritation, his travels became just another one of his quirks.

‘Oh, look, there’s Hiccup. Oh, well, he’s off again.’ He was barely missed. And rightly so. It was by his own doing, really. That was fine by him. In fact, It worked in his favor.

It was borderline hysterical how, the moment they found more furies, and his new paramour, Toothless went from devil’s advocate to his most eager accomplice.

The Sand Wraiths were especially cool… It cost him a lot less fish to get there now. To you.

Sometimes he had to wonder why he’d been so attached to Berk. Working for things that ultimately, he didn’t care about. Everything that kept him here, he also had with you. When he was here, all he wanted was to go back out.

A pebble-sized ball of guilt coil in his stomach. It used to be worse. But, he’d talked to you about it. The engagement.

The engagement with Astrid. The one that was basically moot at this point, anyways. She might even slap him if he brought it up, to expect anything after he’d left her for so long. Truly, officially. all he’d had to do was end it. He left a letter nearby her family home; they would find it if they bothered to search for him.

A scummy trick, yes. Was he a coward for doing it? Maybe. But he was a smart coward. He wasn’t lying when he’d told you that no one knew.

Hiccup exhaled, bouncing up and down on his heel and peg, as if to psych himself up. To dispel all of his nervous, excited energy.

It was a clear day, no risk of a storm. He strapped his saddle pack to Toothless. It was only slightly larger than usual, so as not to arouse suspicion, of course, but it held all of his essentials. Leatherworking tools, metalworking tools, more tools, his armor, spare armor, spare foot, spare charcoal. The small plush his mother had made for him as a child. His viking helmet, for memory’s sake.

Slung over his shoulder was a smaller pack with just his compass and his coin.

As the two of you grew closer and closer, it only made his decision more and more certain.

He wasn’t meant to be Chief. He wasn’t cut out for this life at all. He didn’t want this life. He wanted you.

As far as anyone else was concerned, you’d long since disappeared and now he had the feeling it was time for him to do the same.

He took a deep breath, one that pushed his lungs to his ribs. Then like his bag, he flung himself over Toothless’ saddle before he took off from Berk for the last time, closing his eyes. He’d left his helmet off this time so he felt the beating wind rip through his hair.

The two of you were there, half hidden from view under a large red plume. It was wasm, and your perspiring skin was trapped under hollow armor, same as his.

You gasped, hot air mingling every time his breath hit your face. The two of you huffed and panted as he pushed you unto the dirt and you pushed back, feeling the moss tickle your face and the backs of your hand.

Not your back, though. Just hands.

Gripped, interlaced fingers pressed firmly down by your head, sweaty palms melded to his. He’d been the one in charge, today.

He was hunched over you, his trousers unbuckled and unlaced as he pressed downwards, forwards, gently and not.

A line of sweat ran down your cheek. Your eyelids fluttered. His breath caught.

Men shouted their battle cries into the dark, never ending sky as Berk was set in flames. A skull, still fresh with blood and exposed brain, broke with a sickening, wet crunch as Stoick ground his head into it, bringing mercy to the poor, damaged creature.

“There is no fury here,” He bellowed as he towered menacingly against the hulking wall of flames by his door. Three Deathgrippers and their tails lay cut, prone and slain around him.

“We’ll see about that,” Grimmel crooned, standing tall with his hands linked behind his back, looking down on him with two more dragons hissing and spitting by his sides.

Sharp talons dug into the wood of the rafters, Cloudjumper’s head turning steering around as he hung by her feet. Valka, masked and fully covered, crouched down from where she was, nestled at the bend of his tail. She pulled her arms back, getting her hook, sharp and serrated, ready for a wicked swing.

Yes, he would see. She’d make sure of it.

#hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #httyd imagine #toothless #fem reader #gender neutral reader #female reader #male reader

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