#the only thing he wants more is for her to want to ensnare him back

[chimeric-art]

the hanged man

[jeannineee]

Closure (Ⅲ)

Azriel x Reader

a/n: part three!! Comment if you’d like to be added to part four :) quickly proofread, sorry for any errors

Requests are open for headcanons/short blurbs

ALSO IM A BIT NERVOUS ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT THIS PART IS GOOD SO YALL LMK PLS

Part 1

Part 2

PART FOUR

warnings: angst, allusions to sex (18+ please)

“What are you and Azriel doing?”

Mor’s question drew your attention from the book in your hands. You sat up on the couch, hugging your knees to your chest.

“I don’t know.”

That was the truth. You had no idea. It had been a few days since that evening with Azriel in the Hewn City. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t spoken to you since.

Mor sighed, taking a seat on the couch beside you. “I thought you said you ended things with him.”

“I—I did. But…” you trailed off, fidgeting with the spine of your book. “…I can’t stay away from him.”

“Because he’s your mate.” Mor said. A statement, not a question.

Shock was written all over your face. “How did you know that?”

“Anyone with a brain can see it. Except for Azriel, apparently.”

You looked away, finding sudden interest in Feyre’s family painting on the wall. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why?” Mor’s voice was soft, understanding.

“Because he is only interested in Elain.”

Mor went silent for several moments. “I think Azriel feels he isn’t worthy of you.”

“That’s nonsense.”

Mor snorted, twirling her golden hair around her forefinger. “Trust me, I know. But as long as I’ve known him, Azriel has always thought himself to be a bastard-born nobody, undeserving of anything good.”

Something in your soul ached at that. You knew Azriel had issues with his self-esteem, but you didn’t realize just how much it affected him.

At your silence, Mor continued, “Despite his inferiority complex, his behavior is uncalled for. He shouldn’t be stringing you along while entertaining Elain.”

“I know.”

“And you need to grow a backbone.”

You glared. “I have a backbone.”

“Not with Azriel, you don’t.”

You couldn’t argue with that, as much as you hated to admit it. Perhaps it was the bond, that made you so weak to his advances. Perhaps it was your own naïveté.

“Do you…” You swallowed thickly, the question catching in your throat. “Do you think he knows about the bond?”

“I’m not sure.”

~~~~~~~~

Later in the day, you retired to your bedroom, after spending a few hours training with Nesta and Cassian. You loosed a sigh of relief and contentment as you settled into a warm bath, the scent of lavender and eucalyptus wafting through the air.

Normally, a bath would be enough to relax you, and calm your thoughts. But Azriel weighed heavily on your mind. As did your conversation with Mor.

Half an hour passed by, filled with overthinking. Scowling, you rose from the bathtub, wrapping a towel around your form, and headed into your bedroom.

Before you could enter your closet, a knock sounded on your door. You didn’t need to hear his voice to know who it was.

“Y/n.” Azriel called from the hall. “Can I come in?”

You replaced the towel with a silk robe, and sat on the edge of your bed. “Come in.”

Azriel silently entered your room, his shadows much more active than normal. The shadows only behaved that way when he spent time with Elain—they disappeared in her presence.

Yet the shadows reveled in yours.

If the shadows weren’t hint enough as to where Azriel had been earlier in the day, Elain’s flowery scent ensnared your senses. You swallowed down bile.

The Shadowsinger cleared his throat, leaning back against the dresser that stood against the wall, a few feet away from you.

“Did you need something?” You asked him.

Azriel chuckled. “Do I need an excuse to see you?”

You fidgeted with your hands. “I have things to do, so…”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Azriel replied, taking a step forward. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal the tanned, muscular chest beneath, and the black, swirling tattoos that marked his skin. “I just wanted to check on you.”

“How kind.” You didn’t bother hiding the annoyance you felt.

“Did I do something wrong?”

You snorted. “Why are you so hot and cold with me? One moment, you’re trying to get me into your bed, and the next, you’re ignoring me for weeks at a time. Why?”

“I have other responsibilities to attend to outside of our friendship.”

You knew those ‘responsibilities’ likely included time spent with Elain. But you didn’t voice that.

Azriel continued, “You know, you can come to me, too. It doesn’t always have to be me who initiates conversation.”

“You’re never around. You don’t tell me where you are, what you’re doing.”

“As I said, I have responsibilities,” Azriel said, before sitting on the bed beside you.

“That’s a piss-poor excuse,” you muttered, not daring to look him in the eye, despite the bond urging you to do so.

Azriel scoffed. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

At that, you whipped your head towards him. “I want my friend back. I want…” You stopped yourself before the next words could leave you.

You wanted him. Wanted—needed more than friendship. You needed your mate. But instead, you repeated, “I want my friend back.”

“You have me,” Azriel said, reaching a hand to cup your face.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he swiped his thumb over your cheekbone. Damn him.

Part of you wanted to protest—to push him away. But each time he touched you, it felt as though every broken piece of you was being put back into place.

“You have me,” Azriel murmured again, brushing his lips against your forehead. He placed a soft kiss to each of your cheeks before his lips melded to your own.

Elain’s flowery scent filled your nose once again, yanking you back into reality. You abruptly broke away from the kiss, rising to your feet.

“Y-You should leave,” you sputtered out, furiously readjusting your hair, your robe.

“Do you not want to…?” Azriel let the question hang as he too, stood from your bed.

“Are you serious?” You spat the question. The casualness in his words, his actions sent you into a white-hot, blind rage. “Not when I can smell Elain all over you.”

Azriel stiffened, but didn’t respond.

You laughed, but the sound was devoid of any humor. “I don’t know what I was even thinking.”

The bond. It had to be the bond, making you forget yourself with him. He still smelled like Elain, for fuck’s sake. For that alone, you would’ve sent lesser males running.

“It always comes back to Elain,” Azriel said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Shouldn’t it? How can you—do you even understand what you’re doing to me?”

Azriel looked taken aback. He opened and closed his mouth, coming short of a reply.

You debated simply kicking Azriel out of your room, and leaving it at that. But all the emotions of the last several weeks came bubbling to the surface, threatening to spill over. So you let the words fly out, consequences he damned.

“You are hurting me, Azriel. You—each time you come to me, only to turn around and go to Elain? That fucking hurts. It’s confusing, and I don’t deserve it.”

You loosed a breath, continuing, “I don’t know what you do with her. I don’t know what you feel for her. I don’t care anymore. Just leave me out of it, because it’s hurting me.”

You braced yourself. Braced yourself for a screaming match; an argument. Part of you thought that maybe he’d even laugh at you.

Instead, Azriel merely walked out of your room in silence.

That was far worse.

~~~~~~~~

“What’s got Azriel so pissed off?” Cassian asked you from where he stood on the balcony, nursing a mug of coffee.

“Y/n put him in his place last night,” Nesta interjected, her voice lined with amusement. “Poor Illyrian baby couldn’t take it.”

Cassian grinned. “Rhysie will have a field day when he hears about this.”

You rolled your eyes, staring down at the glass of water in your hands. “Yes, laugh at my turmoil,” you muttered sarcastically.

Nesta and Cassian shared a laugh at that, before the former patted your back comfortingly. “Don’t worry. We’ll go to Rita’s tonight and make you forget all about it.”

~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, Nesta’s idea of “making you forget all about it” included her running off with Cassian into the bathroom after an entire thirty minutes at Rita’s, leaving you alone at your booth, stone-cold sober and mildly annoyed.

After another ten minutes of sitting alone like an outcast, you were prepared to call it quits.

That was, until Eris Vanserra slid into the seat across from you, two mixed drinks in hand.

“Y/n,” he greeted with a smirk, sliding you one of the drinks. “It’s been a while.”

“Not long enough,” you muttered as you took a large swig from your glass.

Eris chuckled, amusement lining his expression. “Always the charmer. How’ve you been?”

“I’m fine. What are you doing in Velaris?”

“Tsk. Not even going to ask how I’m doing?”

You stared.

Eris sighed dramatically, though you noticed his lips twitching up in a smile. “Alright. I’m here for a few days. Just visiting.”

“I highly doubt you’re ‘just visiting.’”

“Believe what you want.” Eris mused, leaning forward, resting his chin on his hands. He studied you for a moment, before adding, “You seemed a bit lonely. No males around to warm your bed?”

You took another gulp of your drink. “My bed is of no concern to you.”

Eris grinned, undeterred by your disinterest. “Come on. Loosen up. Play with me.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol kicking in a bit sooner than normal. Or perhaps it was your determination to get Azriel off of your mind. You didn’t particularly care to find out as you replied, “What do I get if I do?”

Eris’s grin became feline. “Whatever you want.”

~~~~~~~~

The first thing that greeted you when you awoke the next morning was a pounding headache. You were never drinking again.

Your grogginess quickly eddied into panic as you realized Eris was sleeping beside you. If you pulled away the blanket that covered the lower half of his form, you were almost certain he’d be—

“It’s not polite to stare,” Eris murmured tiredly, his abs rippling as he sat up in bed, the blanket that previously covered his form sliding away.

You quickly averted your gaze, and rose from the bed, throwing on the nearest piece of clothing.

“My shirt looks lovely on you,” Eris mused, still lounging on your bed as though he owned it.

Your cheeks flushed. You cleared you throat, attempting to find any amount of dignity within yourself as you said, “You should probably leave.”

Eris chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t overstay my welcome.” He stood from the bed, and dressed himself. You prepared to return his shirt, but he halted you. “It looks better on you. Keep it.”

You cursed yourself as your cheeks flushed an even deeper color.

“I have to return home this afternoon,” Eris explained as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “But if you ever want a repeat of last night…”

You gave him a pointed look. “Eris, as much as I enjoyed—“

“Oh, I know you enjoyed it. Multiple times. You were quite vocal in showing it.”

“As much as I enjoyed it,” you began again with slight annoyance, “I think it best that we don’t do this again.”

Eris shrugged, unfazed. “That’s fine. You were a lot of fun,” he replied as he prepared to leave your room. “For what it’s worth, though, you are…nice to be around.”

You supposed that was the closest you were getting to a compliment from him.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Eris left before you could.

~~~~~~~~

The coffee you drank was a welcome remedy for your headache. Tiredness still gnawed at you from where you sat at the dining table, allowing your thoughts to wander.

You didn’t particularly regret last night. Eris was…fun. A distraction, even. Perhaps you’d take him up on his offer, in the future.

“Next time you bring a male over, at least have the decency to sneak him out,” Azriel said from behind you, his face frozen with rage.

You laughed. Laughed, to your own surprise. “I dealt with centuries of you, Mor, and Cassian bringing people home. Cope.”

The finality in your tone seemed to piss Azriel off even more. “You even smell like him, for Cauldron’s sake.”

It was then that you realized you still wore Eris’s shirt. Again, you didn’t particularly care. “Good,” you spat out as you stood from your chair. “Maybe now you’ll know how I feel when you smell like Elain.”

“Did you fuck him?”

You weren’t sure why he asked. He already knew the answer.

“What does it matter?”

“Did you?”

“Did you fuck Elain?”

Azriel went silent.

“Allow me to make one thing clear, Azriel,” you started, taking a step closer to him. “I am not yours. You are not mine. What I do, with anyone, is none of your business. Just as what you do, is no concern of mine.”

You ignored the way the bond hammered against your chest in protest. The way you could feel his hurt surging through you like a tidal wave. Good. Let him feel what you’ve felt for months, now.

Azriel didn’t respond. Typical.

You started to leave, but Azriel’s next words had your breath catching short in your lungs.

“I know about the bond.”

You weren’t breathing. It felt as though the floor had been swept out from under you.

You turned back around, facing him. “What?”

“I’ve known for almost a year.”

A year. He’s known longer than you have.

You couldn’t bring yourself to form a proper response—you could hardly think over the roaring in your head.“Then why would you—Elain—what?”

Azriel took a step forward, to which you immediately stepped back.

Azriel began, “There is no excuse—“

“You’re right,” you sneered, “there is no excuse.”

“I’m sorry—“

“Save it.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed. He reached out a hand, as if to caress your face. “Y/n—“

“Do not presume to touch me. Ever again.”

You hurried out of the dining room before you could further register the anguish on Azriel’s face.

The bond made you feel it all, anyway.

~~~~~~~~

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[metalhoops]

Inspired by this post

Steve had watched the world end a hundred different ways. He’d lived the same day more times than he could count, watching the people he loved die or feeling himself die. There were things worse than death. There were memories he didn’t dredge up for fear of calling them into the waking world.

He'd held onto hope for the first twenty recurrent days, which had dwindled to a sense of steely determination until he’d lost count of the days. Then all that was left was the comfort of repetition. He was Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill, day in and day out. Steve kept trying and failing to save Eddie until it was all he knew.

Maybe he was Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods and spent his life paying for it, tied to a rock while birds picked at his liver, only for it to grow back with each morning. Prometheus whose name, by definition, means forethought; one’s ability to consider possible futures. Steve had spent a small lifetime considering futures. It wasn’t a comparison he would’ve made on his own. That was Eddie, who’d spent his childhood with his head in thick tomes of fantasy and mythology.

Eddie Munson came to him like cheap furniture, in crudely disassembled pieces that Steve had been working tirelessly to put together. Each new loop brought him another piece of Eddie. His favourite colour was blue. He only woke up early on weekends to watch cartoons. He liked too much cream in his coffee.

The Eddie that existed in a world where Steve stayed with him and Dustin during the swarm of bats had told Steve his biggest dream was to make enough money to buy Uncle Wayne a proper home. His biggest fear was that when he died, no one would remember him.

Days or months later, with Steve repeating the same damn day, he’d finally learnt why Eddie’s love for his uncle ran so deep. Wayne had taken him in before his dad went to jail when the man caught Eddie holding another boy’s hand. In that world, Steve had stayed with Eddie in the RV as the rest of the group searched War Zone.  

Eddie’s mother died when he was six. He’d told Steve that later, or earlier. Steve had and has lost his sense of past and present. Eddie loved his mother deeply, though was unsure if that love had been misplaced. He recalled two mothers, one who read him bedtime stories and threw herself around the kitchen each morning with her wild theatrics and another mother who was distant and whose temper could turn on a dime. Eddie wasn’t sure which of those mothers was his and which was the mother of memory. All good storytellers know the story shapes itself in the retelling. Eddie’s mother was Janus, god of duality.

Steve understood. He loved and hated his parents. These feelings weren’t mutually exclusive. Steve loved Eddie because he’d spent the last hundred-odd days getting to know him, but Steve hated Eddie because he kept dying. Until he didn’t.

The boys lay side by side in the red-blue soil of The Upside Down, their bleeding sides caked with mud and demonic bat viscera. In the end, Steve wasn’t sure what’d done it. It’d been so long since he’d lived Eddie’s original death that it’d been smeared by the haze of memory and conjecture. All he knew was that a sea of bats lay dead around them and that it was over. Finally, over.

Steve removed his hand from where it was pressed into his side and extended it to ensnare Eddie’s. He felt muscles tug and tear from the walls of his ribs with the effort. Blood flowed freely from the cavity, but Steve didn’t care. He wanted to hold Eddie’s hand. Holy shit, they’d done it.

Somewhere along the way, Steve had fallen in love. It’d taken him ten more iterations to reconcile with the fact he could not only like a man but love him.  That was months ago, in Steve’s time. It was old news. “Steve, you still with me?” Eddie asked, his voice horse.

He was hurt, though not as badly as Steve. All his wounds were superficial. He’d be okay. Steve had been so sick of watching Eddie die, he’d been willing to put his body on the line to make sure it didn’t happen again.

In this loop, he was still ‘Steve’, not ‘Stevie’. They hadn’t grown close enough yet. Eddie only called him ‘sweetheart’ in the iterations where they kissed. Steve wanted to kiss him, but there was the taste of iron in his mouth.

“I’m okay,” Steve insisted, squeezing Eddie’s hand. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his side as Eddie pressed his hand into Steve’s wound.

“Christ, there’s a lot of blood,” Eddie muttered to himself. 

He was bad with blood. He’d scraped his knee down to the bone when he was seven and ever since, the sight of gore made him queasy. Steve wasn’t meant to know that yet. In this iteration, he hadn’t told Eddie about the loop. He’d tried before, but it never helped.

Pain and blood loss drag Steve down into a familiar oblivion. He expected to wake at the beginning of the loop, emerging in The Upside Down from Lover’s Lake, but instead, he found himself in a hospital room with Eddie in a bed by his side. It was late, too late for visitors, but Eddie wasn’t sleeping. His eyes were trained on Steve, equal parts concerned and curious.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Eddie confessed, as Steve’s eyes met his. 

Steve wanted to cry or scream. He wanted to untangle himself from the knot of cords and tubes to crawl beside Eddie in bed as they had curled up together in the back of the RV dozens of times before. He needed to hold Eddie to know he was alive, to understand he wasn’t going anywhere. Steve blinked away tears, balling his hands into fists. He didn’t want to scare Eddie.

“I scared you?” Steve choked out a mixture between a laugh and a sob.

Eddie didn’t know what to do. He never knew what to do when people cried. Steve learned that in the iteration where they’d lost Dustin. He didn’t want to think about it.  

“You almost died, man,” Eddie explained.

He somehow understood Steve wanted him closer. Eddie got out of bed, clutching his I.V. drip as he flopped into the chair by Steve’s bedside. He wanted to hold Eddie’s hand again, but he was out of excuses. He could tell him the truth, but he didn’t know what good it would do.

Steve was still used to thinking of possible futures. He was Prometheus who, unlike Sisyphus, escaped his torment. Steve wondered what happened to Prometheus after he was rescued. Did he return to a normal life? Does anyone bother to ask? Prometheus’ story is always about punishment. Afterwards, he was a footnote in the story of Hercules, but once the heroes leave the story, what’s left?

Eddie would know the answer, but it wasn’t a conversation he’d had with this Eddie. That Eddie was dead. This Eddie was and wasn’t him. This Eddie was Janus, god of abstract duality, god of beginnings and ends, god of life and death.

“Sorry my lame-ass face is the first one you had to see. Robin and the kids were in here all day. Wheeler left flowers,” Eddie tacked on awkwardly.

This Eddie didn’t know Steve. They were strangers. Of course, things were awkward. He couldn’t know he was the one person Steve wanted to see more than anything.

“No, Ed’s—.” Slip of the tongue.

“Eddie. I’m really glad you’re here, man.”

They were back to square one, but Steve could work with that. He’d been working with that for months. This time, Eddie would remember. This time, they had the luxury of taking things slow.

“One thing’s been bugging me all day,” Steve began.

After hundreds of days of getting to know Eddie, Steve had learnt a few shortcuts, a few ways to jump-start his way into Eddie’s heart.

“Can you explain what the hell Mordor is?”

It was a tried-and-true method. By that point, Steve knew Eddie’s response off by heart, but he wanted to hear him say it. Eddie gave him the same perplexed look he always did when Steve asked. It was as though Eddie thought he knew too much like there was some secret he wasn’t letting him in on, but he didn’t challenge Steve on it. He never did.

“Harrington, have you heard of Lord of the Rings?” Yes.

“No.” A million times.

“Tell me about it.”

Read Part 2 Here

[edenesth]

Blossoming Alliances

Pairing: prince!Yunho x princess!reader

AU: arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10.9k

Summary: As a means to bring peace between two kingdoms, Prince Yunho of Wonderland is forced into an arranged marriage with the Princess of Aurora. Firmly against the idea of being bound to a complete stranger, the prince makes things more difficult than it has to be. What happens when he finds himself falling for the princess that he so strongly refuses to marry?

ATEEZ Masterlist

"I don't care what the king and queen have planned for me, I'm not-"

Yunho's protest abruptly halted as he skidded to a stop, the air seemingly knocked out of his lungs and his words stuck in his throat. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze ensnared by an ethereal sight.

Following closely behind him, Yeosang, the prince's trusted advisor and personal assistant, muttered a quiet curse as he narrowly avoided colliding with the taller man's back.

The prince's eyes widened in awe as he beheld the graceful figure of the individual meant to be his future princess, strolling amidst a sea of blooming flowers.

The delicate hues of the petals seemed to pale in comparison to her radiant presence, she had the beauty parallel to that of a Greek goddess. With every step she took, her flowing gown mirrored the elegance of her movement and a gentle breeze played with the tendrils of her hair, adding to the aura of enchantment.

The instant Yunho laid eyes on the princess he was bound to marry, all previous arguments and objections he had harboured about the arranged marriage faded into oblivion, vanished entirely from his thoughts.

His jaw hung slack and he struggled to find words. His feet remained firmly rooted to the ground as he stared, momentarily transformed into a foolish, unprincely observer.

"You were saying, your highness?" Yeosang inquired, his tone tinged with sarcasm, his brow arched.

"Is that… her? The p-princess?" Yunho stammered, his ability to speak suddenly elusive. His advisor nodded, regarding the prince with an amused glint in his eye, "Yes, your highness, that is her. Beautiful, isn't she? It seems the rumours about her divine beauty were entirely accurate."

Indeed, she is.

The prince's breath caught in his throat as he watched her, his heart beating faster than usual.

Her every gesture seemed to be poetry in motion, as though the garden itself had come alive to pay homage to her beauty. He felt a sense of time slowing down, his world narrowing to encompass only her in that moment. And as the princess turned to catch a glimpse of him, their eyes finally met.

Flustered, Yunho blinks his eyes rapidly and clears his throat loudly.

Stunned by the charming smile she had sent his way, he gives the princess a curt nod out of courtesy before looking away quickly, embarrassed.

It probably wasn't anything new to the princess for people to gape at her the way he did. But he wasn't just anyone, he was the crown prince of Wonderland, goddammit.

Ah great, I've just made a complete fool of myself.

Gone were all the words of his carefully planned and well-rehearsed speech he had spent all night to come up with, fully prepared to have a whole debate with his parents today about why they should not go through with the plan.

Sensing Yeosang's judgemental gaze on him, he scoffs before waving the shorter male off.

"W-whatever, beauty isn't going to be enough to keep a marriage strong. She could be spoiled and haughty for all we know, and the last thing I need is a wife that's all looks and no brains."

The advisor scoffs, "Sounds to me like an excuse, my prince. You seem to be convincing yourself more than anyone else. The princess should be anything but spoiled and haughty if she is already here ready to meet you."

Yunho glares down at his oldest friend in irritation, he sometimes wished Yeosang could be less rational because the advisor was annoyingly correct with his statement.

A part of the prince wanted the princess to be on her worst behaviour, that would give him a good reason to not comply but if she continues on with her good girl act and wins everyone's favour, that would make him seem like the bad guy.

Or perhaps, he was.

Why was he so against this again?

Right, because she's a complete stranger. And not just any stranger, she had to be one all the way from Aurora too.

That was why he came to seek an audience with his parents. They'd be kidding themselves if they thought he'd be backing down so easily without a fight.

With his sights set on the grand doors to the throne room, the prince reminds himself of why he's come to this part of the palace. He proceeds to march forward, determined to talk his way out of the marriage no matter how breathtaking he finds the princess to be.

Yes, the princess was insanely gorgeous.

That was an undeniable fact and Yunho would have to be blind to think otherwise.

However, he genuinely believed that beauty alone amounted to very little, especially in marriage. This union was a lifelong commitment.

This was no fairytale.

Whoever it was that Yunho married, he had to spend the rest of his life with, so his future wife would have to possess a lot more qualities than simply being easy on the eyes.

Pull yourself together, Jung Yunho. She's just another beautiful face and you've seen plenty of those.

You see, Crown Prince Yunho, heir to the throne of Wonderland, has found himself entangled in the intricate web of politics when his parents arrange a marriage with the princess of the neighbouring kingdom, Aurora. Tensions have simmered between the two nations for years, and this alliance is seen as a way to bring peace to the region.

But there was just one major problem, Yunho was vehemently opposed to the arranged marriage.

He resents the idea of being bound to a stranger, especially from a rival nation. His preconceived notions about the princess lead him to believe she's merely a pawn in her own right, just as he feels he is in this political game.

Unfortunately for him, the meeting with his parents had pretty much gone the exact way he wished it hadn't. As Yeosang had predicted, each of his arguments was met with compelling responses from his parents, rendering him momentarily speechless.

Yunho accuses the princess of being spoiled but with his continuous stubbornness and adamance, he was beginning to look the part himself.

While he voiced concerns about potential issues arising from this union, such as constraints on personal freedom, emotional distress, compatibility problems, and the inevitable cultural and societal pressures, his parents remained unfazed.

They had anticipated their son's dissatisfaction when they initially revealed the arrangement and had been prepared for his complaints.

"Yunho-yah," The queen began, her voice gentle yet firm, "We understand your concerns about the arranged marriage. But you must also understand the broader implications of our decision."

The king leaned forward, his expression serious, "Our kingdom stands at a crossroads, my son. The tensions between our nation and Aurora have lingered for far too long. The alliance formed through this marriage could finally bring about a lasting peace."

The prince's brow furrowed as he folded his arms, a mix of frustration and reluctance in his eyes, "But father, how can I marry someone I've never met? Someone from a land with which we've had conflicts?"

His mother's gaze softened, "Yunho, we're not asking you to abandon your feelings or desires. We're asking you to consider the greater good. The princess is in the same situation, and she's willing to put aside her own reservations for the sake of her people. It's a sacrifice for both of you."

And there it was, he must look like an absolute asshole all thanks to her obedience. Yeosang would definitely agree, even his advisor was supportive of the marriage. The prince seems to be the only one against this.

"We've always taught you to put the needs of the kingdom before personal wishes. This is one of those times when our actions will shape the course of history. Your cooperation can be a bridge towards a more peaceful future."

His father added, eyes trained firmly on his son.

He needed Yunho to understand that this matter was not up for negotiation, the only reason they were still entertaining his tantrums was to hopefully talk some sense into him. After all, his compliance would make a huge difference and things could be so much easier.

Yunho sighed, his shoulders slumping, "I understand the reasons, mother, father. But how can I be expected to share my life with someone I know nothing about?"

The queen leaned forward, her expression filled with empathy, "Arranged marriages are not what they used to be, Yunho. You'll have the opportunity to get to know the princess, to find common ground, and perhaps even build a genuine connection."

She was right but for some reason, Yunho's brain refuses to see things that way.

There had to be alternative methods to form an alliance; why did he need to sacrifice his choice to love? As a royal, he was only permitted one marriage and now one of the most momentous decisions of his life was about to be dictated by the future of his kingdom.

He would have said those words out loud had it not been for the look in his father's eyes, the king was growing tired of this pointless talk.

As the prince's gaze shifted between his parents, a mixture of uncertainty played across his face. He knew their words held weight, that his compliance could influence the fate of their kingdom. With a sigh, he uncrossed his arms and met their eyes.

He sensed that further argument was futile. The arrangement would proceed whether he liked it or not, "I hear you, father, mother," He finally said, his tone resigned, "I'll meet the princess and try to see the bigger picture."

And by that, what he actually meant was that he would be keeping busy, looking for loopholes to escape this predicament.

It was an exhausting journey getting from Aurora to Wonderland by carriage but you didn't voice your discomfort because you knew it must have been so much harder for your guards and servants.

It hasn't been easy on you, learning of the sudden need for you to wed the prince of another nation. It had to be Wonderland too, of all kingdoms, the specific one that hadn't been on particularly good terms with Aurora for as long as you could remember.

The truth was that you had been prepared for this all your life.

Since childhood, your mother had instilled in you the belief that your primary duty, as a princess, was to marry for political reasons someday. As much as you had dreaded it, you had always known that this day would arrive sooner or later.

What truly caught you off guard, however, was the fact that you were arranged to marry the future king of Wonderland, not Utopia. This was partly because you had always assumed you'd marry Prince San of Utopia, a kingdom with strong ties to your parents.

You and San had practically grown up side by side, he was a good friend of yours and you wouldn't have minded spending your life with him. He was easily one of the most gentle and caring men you've met, he would have made a fine husband.

While you didn't harbour any personal grievances against Prince Yunho or Wonderland, you had heard of his discontent with the arrangement, which naturally left you feeling disheartened.

It wasn't like you were ecstatic about this either but you understood that it was an integral part of your role as a royal, no?

Due to the prince's resistance, his parents had requested your arrival a bit earlier than initially planned, hoping to give him time to warm up to you before both kingdoms made the official announcement regarding your alliance to the public.

Fortunately for you, the king and queen of Wonderland had warmly received you upon your arrival and offered a brief tour of the palace's central court. They made every effort to make you feel welcome before escorting you to your chambers.

Unfortunately for you, the prince was nowhere to be seen. You couldn't help but have mixed feelings about his nonattendance, especially since he was the primary reason for and the most significant aspect of your visit.

But you supposed that may have been too much to ask of him, given his well-known opposition to this marriage.

Here you were, finally settling into the grand bed chambers designated for you. You sat in contemplative silence by the ornate vanity while your handmaiden, Yeri, attentively touched up your appearance.

"What is the matter, my princess? Are you feeling okay?"

Once she was done brushing your hair, you moved to pat her hand appreciatively, "I'm fine, Yeri, really. Just... trying to adapt to the new environment. It's quite different here compared to home, isn't it?"

"If you're trying to say it's more depressing here, then yes, I agree with you," You laughed quietly, attempting to hush her with an alarmed expression, "Oh my god, keep it down, you fearless woman! If anyone hears you, we're dead," She snickers, nodding quickly, "Yes, yes, your highness. I was just playing with you, at least it finally got you to smile again."

Scrunching your face up at her playfully, your heart warmed at how sweet it was of her to ensure you were alright.

"You're the best, Yeri. I really can't do this without you, so please be on your best behaviour," You shook your head when she grinned cheekily, "Now where's the fun in that?" She lifted her hands to surrender when you glared at her, unamused, "Okay, okay, sheesh."

"Go and get some rest, Yeri. You must be tired, tell the rest to join you too. I'll send Mingi for you if I need anything," She stood with her hands on her hips and let out a huff, "I know you won't, you're too kind for your own good. If I catch you trying to do anything by yourself, I'm never leaving your side again."

Before you could offer any protest, she gestured across her lips, mimicking a zipper, "I won't say this again, my princess. Let the servants do their jobs. We're not in Aurora anymore, you can't let these foreigners think you're weak or easy, do you understand?"

She was right, you hadn't thought of that at all.

Back at home, you had treated all the royal staff like friends and often chose to handle tasks yourself to avoid inconveniencing them, even when it was their responsibility. But you were no longer in Aurora, and your actions in Wonderland could potentially be mistaken as weakness or gullibility.

Yeri did not leave you until she made you pinky promise her.

You softened, hugging her before she went to catch up on some much-needed rest. Thanks to your cheerful and friendly disposition, all members of your staff have developed a deep fondness for you. Yeri, in particular, always had your best interests at heart.

Deciding it was probably best to familiarise yourself with the layout of the palace, you began wandering around with your personal guard, Mingi, following closely behind. You would have sent him to his chambers too, had he not frowned warningly at you.

He didn't have to say the words out loud, all it took was one look for you to understand his 'don't you even dare' loud and clear.

Thankful for and comforted by Mingi's tall frame towering over yours protectively from behind, you took your time sauntering about. You noted the difference between the interior at home and here; while the colours back at home were brighter, most of the decor in Wonderland leaned towards the darker side.

Your lips curved upward when you happened upon the royal garden just outside. The garden held a special place in your heart; it was your sanctuary in Aurora. There, you'd lose yourself in books, indulge in painting or simply unwind on days when you have no princess etiquette lessons.

Bounding toward it with excitement, you instructed Mingi to wait for you by the garden gates while you took a stroll by yourself. Lost in your own world, your attention had been fully captured by the new flowers you hadn't seen back in Aurora.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain pair of eyes had remained trained on your frame for quite some time now.

It was only when you finally sensed this invisible gaze that you turned and found yourself locking eyes with a strikingly tall and handsome man. As was your instinctual reaction, you greeted him with a warm smile, even if you didn't know who he was.

You resisted the urge to giggle at his expression which was similar to that of a deer caught in headlights as he nodded once politely at you before turning away almost instantly.

But before you could watch on any longer, Mingi had come to escort you back to your chambers. Exploration time was over, you had to get ready for dinner with the king and queen soon.

And all the way back, you couldn't get your mind off the man you had seen earlier.

That tall and handsome man, you later learned, was your future husband, Crown Prince Yunho of Wonderland.

On your second day here, you had the pleasure of sharing a light meal with him. Perhaps it was your jitters or perhaps it was the knowledge of his displeasure with the arrangement, you half-expected him to be rude or mean.

To your complete surprise, he had been more civil and polite than you had imagined. However, it was quite apparent to you that he had made a constant effort to keep you at arm's length.

Even after a week of your presence in the palace, he remained equally reserved.

As suggested by his parents, you have been sharing meals together more often in order to get to know one another better. Weirdly though, the questions exchanged between you two during conversations remained surface level and he refused to dive any deeper beyond simple pleasantries.

It was almost impossible to get close to him.

In a way, it was frustrating. You couldn't quite put your finger on it but you almost wished he would express his displeasure or frustration openly. His aloof behaviour, on the other hand, made you feel unimportant and irrelevant.

Gazing miserably up at the stars littered across the night sky by your balcony, you don't notice Yeri coming up to you until you feel her wrap a shawl over your exposed shoulders.

"You alright, your highness? Mingi mentioned you looking particularly upset these days. I thought things were going well with the prince?"

You sighed, pursing your lips, "I don't know, Yeri. I suppose that's how it looks to others from the outside but..." Your heart clenched, and you wondered to yourself if this was how life was going to be like married to Yunho.

"Even when he's right in front of me, he still feels so far away," Laughing humourlessly to yourself, you rubbed your hands tiredly over your eyes, "Does that even make any sense?"

Yeri runs her hands comfortingly up and down your arms, "Wow, so he's going to be that kind of husband, huh. I'm so sorry, your highness. You, of all people, don't deserve this kind of treatment, especially from the man who is supposed to be your husband."

You shook your head to ease her worries, "I'll be fine. Maybe he'll warm up to me eventually, hm? Just the way you did," She smiled half-heartedly at you, "Gee, for your sake, I sure hope so."

While you were caught up in your own feelings of despair, Yunho dedicated the majority of his time to the library, fervently seeking an alternative method for forming the alliance, anything except marriage. He refused to believe that this was the only way to do so, even when Yeosang had told him countless times that his efforts would be fruitless.

As his advisor had reiterated over and over, even if he did find another way, nothing could be stronger than an alliance formed through marriage. But Yunho would like to argue that his adamance might be stronger, though he knows he would be shot down mercilessly by his friend with actual logic.

In frustration, he slammed yet another book shut, running his hand through his hair and groaning loudly without bothering to keep his voice down. Nobody in the library would dare ask him to quiet down anyway, he was the crown prince of the nation.

Come on, there has to be another way.

Without wasting another moment, he moved on to the next book. He couldn't afford to waste any more time. Every passing day brought him closer to the solidifying of this arrangement.

Despite his lack of success in finding a solution, he was rather pleased with how he had handled you. As he had expected, you appeared to be nothing more than a pawn, sent here to be manipulated by your parents.

In the few conversations he had with you, you seemed somewhat one-dimensional, repeatedly expressing your contentment with fulfilling your duties as a princess for the betterment of your kingdom. No doubt just reciting words handed to you in a carefully crafted script, you appeared to lack personality whatsoever.

Yunho knew he was right about you from the beginning, you were all looks and not much else.

Or so he thought.

The prince had been quick to judge without bothering to get to know you any better. He couldn't have possibly been able to get a feel of your character when he continuously kept you at a distance.

It wasn't until he was forced to spend time with you as you navigate several formal events and ceremonies meant to showcase your unity, that he began to see you in a new light. You were not the stoic and passive figure he had imagined.

You revealed yourself to be an incredibly articulate and knowledgeable speaker, both on and off the stage. From delivering formal speeches to engaging in discussions with important figures of Wonderland, he was thoroughly impressed by your depth of knowledge and your ability to hold conversations on topics that sometimes even challenged him as the crown prince.

Not only that, he later saw how intelligent and compassionate you truly were but most importantly, how you shared his concerns about the forced arrangement.

It was within the confines of the royal garden that you and Yunho engaged in a heartfelt conversation, away from any prying eyes.

Your sigh was soft, your gaze fixed on the distant horizon, "Thanks for agreeing to see me, Yunho. There's something I feel I must address, I cannot go on like this for much longer." Concern filled the prince's eyes when he detected the exhaustion in your tone.

"You know, I'm not an idiot. I know what you've been doing this whole time, trying to keep me at a distance. I'm well aware of your feelings about this arrangement."

Yunho hung his head in shame, realising that he had underestimated you, believing you wouldn't see through his actions.

"I just... I need you to understand that it hasn't exactly been easy for me either. I'm not a fan of all this, to be quite honest with you. You don't think I want to marry for love too? At this point, I've just accepted that it would be a dream never to come true. Life as royalty comes with sacrifices and this is only one of many, Yunho."

The prince turns to face you, his voice was sincere, "Gosh, I honestly didn't know. All this while, I've thought only about myself. I... I'm sorry for the way I've acted, princess. I have no excuses for that."

Well, that was a surprise.

You didn't think you'd hear him apologise to you. So sincerely too.

"Thank you for the apology, it means a lot," He nodded but seemed like there was more he wanted to say, "Yunho, is there something else you wish to say?"

The prince hesitates, "It's just... You sounded like you're being weighed down by a lot. I know our kingdoms haven't been on the best of terms but, is everything okay in Aurora?"

You took a moment before meeting his eyes, your gaze holding a blend of determination and vulnerability, "My kingdom, Aurora, it's... it's in a delicate state. The tensions between our kingdom and Wonderland have taken a toll on our people. There have been losses, conflicts that have stretched on for too long."

Yunho nodded slowly, empathy evident in his features, "I know that our kingdoms have had their differences. But you've chosen to embrace this alliance, despite the challenges it presents."

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you continued, "I've seen the suffering, Yunho. I've seen families torn apart by the feuds between our lands. I've felt the weight of the responsibility that rests on my shoulders. This marriage, as much as I've also hated the concept, offers a chance for healing. It's a way to bring peace to our people, to ensure a better future."

Yunho studied you, his admiration growing with every word you spoke, "Princess, I think that your willingness to prioritise your people's well-being over personal desires is truly commendable."

A faint smile touched your lips, "Thank you, I've wrestled with it and struggled against the confines of tradition. But I've come to realise that sometimes, as leaders, we must put aside our own wishes for the greater good."

That's just great, the prince has never felt more ashamed of himself. He must seem like a brat compared to you, he now fully understands why you were so loved by the people around you.

If only he had opened his eyes to this side of you sooner. There was no one to blame for this but himself, he was filled with immense guilt and regrets for the way he had treated you before.

He reached out hesitantly before gently placing a hand on yours, "Your strength and dedication are inspiring, princess. To choose the path that challenges your heart for the sake of your people speaks volumes about your character. I'm sorry for misjudging you before."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the weight of your shared responsibilities seemed to lessen, "Let bygones be bygones, Yunho. I hope that even if we cannot feel love for one another, you'll still be able to find a friend in me."

Yunho squeezed your hand gently, "Likewise, I hope you'll be able to do the same with me."

As you spend more time together, Yunho witnesses your genuine commitment to bridging the gap between your nations.

He discovers your efforts to learn about Wonderland's culture and language, your sincere desire to foster understanding and your determination to defy your own family's pressure for the sake of your people.

One day in the library, he stumbled upon you buried under piles of history books, dictionaries and many more Wonderland-related materials. He was surprised to learn from the royal librarian that you had been visiting frequently for the past few days.

Seeing you so engrossed in your studies, he decided not to distract you and instead settled at the table across from yours. He occasionally stole glances at you while he went about his own tasks.

You didn't notice the prince's presence until hours later when you finished one book. Stretching your limbs, you let out an unintentional moan before finally looking up, only to find Yunho staring at you, clearly amused.

A loud yelp escaped your lips ungracefully upon seeing him, and the librarian shot you a warning glare while you repeatedly bowed your head apologetically.

You hid your face in your palms, overcome with embarrassment, as the prince snickered cheekily. Now that he had your attention, he moved to your table and sat down in front of you.

"That surprised to see me, princess? I can't believe you didn't notice me at all, I've been here for hours."

Your jaw dropped, "Really? Gosh, I didn't realise."

He didn't dare say it out loud but Yunho found you so incredibly adorable in that moment, his heart skipping a beat at your natural and genuine reactions. He felt so privileged to have been able to see this candid side of you, it was so fresh and unlike the whole princess facade that you were always forced to put on in front of others.

After he ordered a nearby servant to prepare you both some light snacks and tea, you engaged in a relaxed conversation.

"Now we all know why I'm here but what are you doing here, Yunho? Shouldn't you be kept busy fulfilling your princely duties?" He sighs, pulling out the books he's been frantically looking through to show you. You furrowed your brows at the sheer amount of materials related to strategic alliances, historical governing regulations and such, "I'm afraid I don't understand."

There was a brief pause when the servant returned with the snacks Yunho had requested. He waited until you were alone before he continued.

"To be completely honest, from the moment you arrived here, I've been searching for ways for Wonderland and Aurora to form an alliance without marriage. Initially, it was for my personal reasons, but after speaking with you and realising how much you disliked this arrangement, I knew I had to keep looking—for both our sakes."

You stared at him, astonished, "You're saying that you're doing this for me too?"

He nods, "Yes, especially after hearing you speak of the struggles of your people, I knew then that this alliance must be formed for the greater good. But you also spoke so bitterly about not being able to marry for love, it pained me to hear you say that it would only be a dream never to come true."

The sincerity in his tone was enough to touch your heart, you hadn't expected him to take your words this seriously.

"So, I figured we must find another way to go about this, in order to secure peace between our kingdoms as well as our right to marry someone of our own choice."

As grateful as you were for his efforts, you didn't want to cling to false hope, as the ideal outcome he aimed for seemed far-fetched. Seeing him conduct this research alone, you could tell that his advisor likely considered it impossible and had given up trying to reason with the prince.

You smiled appreciatively at him, patting a hand gently over his.

"That's very sweet of you, Yunho, to be so considerate, from worrying about the state of my nation to my happiness. You have no idea how much this all means to me. But you do understand that it's a scenario highly unlikely to come to fruition, yes?"

Guilt washed over you when you saw his face slightly fall due to your words.

"Yeah, I'm aware, but I won't give up. We'll never truly know if we don't try, am I right?" To lift the mood and avoid making you feel bad, he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, not missing the way his heart skipped a beat when you let out a small giggle.

This has been happening way too frequently lately.

But Yunho reassured himself that he was just happy to have made a new friend, nothing more and nothing less.

He continued to tell himself that, even when all he could think about was your beautiful smile and cute laugh, feeling determined to do whatever it took to keep that smile on your face.

Despite his initial resistance, Yunho and the princess slowly begin to discover common ground. You find yourselves sharing your hopes, fears and dreams, gradually forming a connection that transcends your initial animosity.

"You sure seem a lot happier these days, I assume things are going well with the princess?"

Yeosang wonders out loud, spotting that dreamy look on the prince's face again, he's been seeing it more often lately.

He hoped this change in demeanour indicated Yunho's willingness to comply, as he was growing weary of the prince's stubbornness. The advisor feels he was about to age another ten years if he had to deal with any more of that.

However, to Yeosang's dismay, Yunho's response was not what he wanted to hear, "If by things going well, you mean us finally becoming friends, then yes. But I'm telling you, I haven't given up trying to find that loophole."

The advisor could feel his blood pressure rising; he knew the king would not be pleased with this response. Unbeknownst to Yunho, his parents had instructed Yeosang to provide daily progress reports on his relationship with the princess.

Yeosang had hoped that the improved rapport between the prince and the princess would finally allow him to deliver some positive news to the king and queen. These reports were also shared with the princess' parents in Aurora, as both sets of parents eagerly awaited the day when Yunho would agree to the arranged marriage.

As much as they were rulers of their kingdoms, they were also parents to their children.

While your parents bore the weighty responsibility for the welfare of your kingdom and its people, they fervently hoped to spare you from an utterly loveless marriage that could subject you to potential mistreatment from an apathetic spouse.

Their genuine desire rested on the Prince of Wonderland's acceptance of you, with the hope that affection would develop over time, all while forging a harmonious bond between your respective realms. You were, after all, their only daughter and they weren't entirely heartless.

Beneath their regal exteriors was compassion for you.

If worse comes to worst, they were prepared to alter their strategies and seek a more suitable match for you.

The truth was that you were originally pledged to wed Prince San of Utopia, a strategic move aimed at bolstering the economy, consolidating authority and expanding your territorial holdings. If it weren't for the impending conflict between Wonderland and Aurora, your union with San might have already taken place.

Back then, your parents deemed it less advantageous for Aurora to merely grow stronger through an alliance with Utopia, knowing that it would eventually still culminate in a costly war with Wonderland. It was during this pivotal moment that their priorities shifted, with the king and queen of Aurora deciding that averting war held more importance.

Yet, if Prince Yunho of Wonderland remained obstinate in his refusal to cooperate, they were prepared to consider risking war if it meant securing a more promising marriage prospect for their daughter.

With Utopia's support, Aurora could potentially secure victory against Wonderland without undue hardship.

This, ultimately, constituted your parents' contingency plan.

Though they hoped it would never have to come down to that.

As time passes, Yunho and you can no longer deny the growing attraction between you.

You secretly spend more time together, leading to many heartfelt conversations and shared experiences that further strengthen the bond between you.

Neither of you had been entirely sure of your feelings for each other until one particular evening when you decided to sneak out to town.

Yunho was determined to show you how vibrant and exciting life could be in Wonderland, especially after you had been making endless jokes about his kingdom being gloomy and depressing.

Dressed in the simplest clothing he could find in his wardrobe, he patiently awaited your arrival by the secret passage leading to the town. Yunho had discovered this hidden path during his teenage years, with the assistance of a younger and more rebellious Yeosang.

Embarrassingly enough, he found himself momentarily frozen when he first saw you in casual attire.

You had to bring him back to reality by waving your hands in front of his face, grinning when you noticed the faint blush on his cheeks.

For Yunho, it was incredibly difficult to take his eyes off you that night. His natural protectiveness over you had been triggered by the absence of your guard, Mingi. To his dismay, he wasn't the only one who had his eyes on you. Your beauty was just a natural magnet to all beings around you, attracting looks from almost everyone passing by.

Even in a simple cream-coloured gown, likely borrowed from one of your maids, Yunho couldn't help but wonder how you managed to radiate such elegance and charm.

However, Yunho was oblivious to the fact that you were equally captivated by his appearance. It was your first time seeing him dressed so casually and you were awestruck by how attractive he looked. You couldn't help but wonder if he was aware of the effect he had.

As you strolled through the night market, side by side, there had been many heart-fluttering moments between you all throughout the night.

Upon your arrival, you stumbled upon a street performer whose humorous antics made you both burst into uncontrollable laughter. You later dared each other to try exotic street foods like spicy skewers and strange-looking desserts. Watching each other's reactions as you savoured these new flavours brought moments of playful intimacy.

A street musician catches your attention when he suddenly begins playing a sweet, melodic tune on his guitar. Yunho, with a smile, pulled you into a spontaneous dance under the moonlight, leaving your heart racing. It felt different from all the times you'd danced together during the many formal events and ceremonies.

With your arms circled around his neck and his hand firmly on your waist, he pulls you impossibly close. Your heart pounds twice as fast as your trembling eyes meet his in a deep gaze, you wonder if he felt what you felt too.

But it wasn't until his gaze fell upon your lips that your breath hitched. His eyes were unreadable, he seemed to have a million thoughts going through his mind before he looked back into your eyes, smiling assuringly at you.

Feeling flustered, you nestled your head against the space between his neck and shoulder, seeking refuge from his intense gaze. Yunho's heart melted and he gently rested his cheek against the side of your head.

Deep beneath your hearts, you'd both wished for time to remain frozen and for this moment to last forever.

Neither you nor Yunho bothered to correct the musician when he called you a lovely pair of newlyweds. Instead, you both exchanged shy smiles with each other before gracefully sauntering away.

As the night went on, you found yourselves at a candle-lit vendor stall, choosing handcrafted candles together. The vendor's stories about the meaning behind each candle's design further deepened your connection.

Next, you stumbled upon an antique shop tucked away in a corner. As you explored the treasures within, you exchanged stories of your past, revealing vulnerable moments and secrets, which drew you closer.

Nearing the end of your tour, you found a secluded bench to rest before returning to the palace. The night sky above was clear and you both paused to gaze at the stars. The moment felt magical, it was almost as if the universe itself was conspiring to bring you together.

"So, is Wonderland still as 'gloomy and depressing' as you'd previously described it to be?" The prince questioned cheekily, making dramatic air quotes as you laughed, "Fine, guess I was wrong about that. It's pretty amazing, I suppose."

It was getting late and Yunho knew he had to take you back soon, no matter how reluctant he was to do so.

In an attempt to prolong your little date by a bit more, he offered to buy you a pack of those candied fruits he recalled you saying you liked to enjoy together before leaving.

"Wait for me, I'll be back real quick."

You watched endearingly as the prince squeezed his way through the crowd to get to the dessert stall where you'd stopped by earlier. This Yunho was so different from the one you had first met, he was making it hard for you not to catch any feelings.

Lost in your own thoughts, you failed to notice a drunkard approaching you from a dimly lit nearby alley.

Startled, you emitted a gasp of surprise as he harshly gripped your arm and abruptly yanked you from your seat, "Wait a moment, I know you. Aren't you that darn princess from Aurora?" His words struck you like a thunderclap, and his narrowing eyes bore into you ominously.

How could he have possibly recognised me?

"S-sir, I think you've been mistaken. I'm no princess, just a commoner like you," You couldn't help but recoil at the sight of his discoloured teeth as he clenched them menacingly, "Don't you dare deceive me, girl! Your accent betrays you; I know you're not from around here!"

With wide, frightened eyes, you struggled desperately to free yourself from his rough grasp, which was sure to leave a bruise on your wrists, "N-no, please!"

There were no words to capture the terror coursing through you as he attempted to drag you into the alley from which he had emerged, "You'll pay for what your people have done to me! Thanks to you Aurora scum, I've lost my family!"

You looked around frantically in search of Yunho, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you cried out his name desperately for help.

"Shut up, bitch. How dare you taint the name of my prince with that filthy mouth of yours." The man growls, your heart stopping as he bends down to pick up a shard of shattered beer glass from the ground.

Just as he swung the shard toward you, a tall figure leapt between you and the man, wrapping you tightly in his arms and instantly turning you away to shield you from the attack. He took the blow on your behalf, a sizable gash now marring his back.

The drunkard froze in place, realising the injury he had inflicted upon his own prince, "Oh, my prince! I had not intended to harm you; it was meant for her-"

Turning his head to direct a scathing glare at the man, Yunho sneered, "How audacious of you to attempt an assault on royalty. Do you realise that she is to become your future princess?" The man fell to his knees, begging for forgiveness, "Leave my sight at once. You will not escape so lightly should you ever attempt such a thing again."

Yunho shifted his focus back to you once the drunkard had hastily departed, looking you over for any signs of injury.

Once assured of your well-being, he pulled you tight into his embrace. He couldn't get over the way his heart lurched in his chest at the sight of you being manhandled by the drunk homeless man.

Tears flowed down your cheeks as the realisation dawned that the prince had indeed heard your desperate pleas for help. You found yourself sobbing, torn between profound relief and a gnawing sense of guilt.

You were relieved, beyond words, that he had come to your rescue. Yet, the guilt weighed heavily on your heart, knowing that you were the reason he had been hurt. Swiftly, you pulled away from him, turning him around to inspect his injury. To your astonishment, your eyes widened in shock.

"We must return immediately! You need medical attention, Yunho!" You exclaimed urgently.

Not wanting to further distress you, Yunho nodded in agreement. Together, you made your way back to the palace. Along the journey, he handed you the crumpled bag of candied fruits he had kept in his pocket this whole time.

"Here, please stop crying. I like it better when you smile." He said, his lips curving into a fond chuckle. Your response was to cry even harder at his touching gesture.

"I'm sorry for leaving you behind," Yunho admitted with a sigh, "I should have taken you with me," Your brow furrowed in confusion, "Why should you be sorry? You saved me, Yunho! And now, you're injured because of me."

With a tender sigh, he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as the palace gates drew nearer.

This was indeed an unforgettable night.

Yeri and Mingi were utterly startled when they learned about your recent adventure with the prince, an escapade that had placed you perilously close to harm's way. In fact, the entire royal staff shared their incredulity. As a result, security measures around the palace grounds had been heightened significantly to prevent any recurrence of such incidents.

Nevertheless, the prince and the princess seemed to have drawn closer in the wake of these events. You faithfully visited Yunho daily to monitor his recovery and ensure he received the necessary rest.

The recent days had been remarkably peaceful, and judging from the interactions between the two, there was a palpable sense of optimism among those who observed them. It seemed that perhaps, at long last, the prince might come to terms with the arranged marriage with the princess.

Unfortunately for you all, the peace only lasted so long.

One day, as you spent time with Yunho in his garden, Yeosang abruptly burst in, his breathless urgency disrupting the tranquil atmosphere. He conveyed the news that you had never imagined could transpire.

"We're under attack, and by 'we,' I mean both Wonderland and Aurora," He gasped out, causing you to leap from your seat in shock, "What- by who?" You demanded, your voice quaking.

The advisor swallowed hard before responding, "It's Utopia. We suspect they are displeased with Aurora for terminating their alliance to form a new one with us instead."

Utopia, long thought to be peaceful, had suddenly launched a surprise attack on both you and Yunho's kingdoms. For generations, the neighbouring kingdom of Utopia had been a beacon of peace and tranquillity on the horizon.

But on this fateful morning, a shockwave of dread rippled through both Wonderland and Aurora as the tranquil facade of Utopia shattered.

You sank back into your chair, a sense of hopelessness washing over you as you gazed up at Yeosang, "Is there any chance I could have a conversation with Prince San? We've shared a close bond since childhood. If I could just speak with him, perhaps we could find a resolution without resorting to further violence."

Detecting the despair in your voice, Yunho offered a comforting gesture by gently covering your hand with his own. It was a silent reassurance that you were not alone in this ordeal, that he would stand by your side throughout the entire journey.

The advisor nodded in response, his tone assuring, "I'll do my best to arrange it. It shouldn't be too difficult if he's willing to meet with you."

You marvelled at Yeosang's ability to work swiftly, and soon enough, you found yourself granted a brief audience with San. Despite your insistence on meeting him alone, Yunho vehemently protested, vowing never to allow you to do something so dangerous on your own.

And so, it was how you and Yunho came to be seated across from Prince San of Utopia, a figure from your childhood and the person who should have been your betrothed by now.

As expected, his expression brimmed with heartfelt apologies.

San retained the gentleness and caring nature you had known throughout your shared history. He candidly admitted that this was all orchestrated by his parents, emphasising his own reluctance and powerlessness to halt their plans.

"Believe me, I tried everything within my ability to dissuade them from this reckless course of action. However, my father felt deeply betrayed by your parents for abruptly breaking our long-standing alliance."

San rubs his neck sheepishly, "You understand how eagerly my parents had anticipated our union. Your sudden change of heart and the decision to arrange a marriage with the Prince of Wonderland, of all people, appeared to our people as if you were abandoning your friends to align with the enemy."

Your face fell as you comprehended the unfavourable perception that had taken hold among the people of Utopia. In hindsight, you realised it was difficult to blame them for their anger.

"But, of course, this doesn't excuse my father's decision to attack your kingdoms." San continued earnestly.

"I stand firmly against this aggression, just as you do. However, my position as the prince of Utopia places me in a precarious situation. I cannot betray my own nation to support you directly. What I can pledge is my commitment to not interfere in any way. I won't participate in this conflict, that much I can assure you."

With San's explanations, you gained a clearer understanding of the circumstances that led to the current crisis.

While Yunho watched on, harbouring a trace of jealousy, you bid farewell to the Utopian prince with a tight embrace. San whispered kind words in your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, offering his good wishes and luck for the challenging road ahead.

Armed with this newfound knowledge, you promptly corresponded with your parents in Aurora to notify them of the latest developments.

Despite your parents' earnest attempts to de-escalate the situation through diplomatic negotiations with the Utopian rulers, it became evident that quelling their anger was no simple task. It appeared that the only viable path forward was to prepare for the impending conflict, as the prospect of war loomed inevitably.

The unexpected and brutal surprise attack launched by Utopia's forces leaves the people of Wonderland and Aurora reeling in disbelief. The peace they had cherished for so long was now under siege and their very survival hung in the balance.

Your kingdoms, though distinct in culture and tradition, were suddenly united by a common enemy that threatened to engulf you in an unending nightmare. Forced into an alliance born out of dire necessity, the people of Wonderland and Aurora put aside their prior differences and prejudices.

In the midst of the chaos and devastation, you and Yunho found yourselves facing an unthinkable reality.

You and the prince were gathered in the meeting chamber where you were scheduled to meet not only with the king but also with some of Wonderland's most influential figures, including generals and other military leaders, to discuss war strategies.

As you waited for the meeting to commence, an overwhelming sense of guilt gnawed at you, and you felt the need to seize the moment and extend an apology to the prince.

"I'm truly sorry, Yunho. If it weren't for our decisions, this devastating war wouldn't have befallen Wonderland either. Now you're embroiled in this conflict as well." You confessed with remorse.

Yunho shook his head, a faint smile gracing his lips as he gently tilted your chin upward, causing you to meet his gaze.

"You do realise that war would have inevitably reached Wonderland regardless, yes?" He replied, his words carrying a weight of resignation, "The difference lies in whether it's a war with Aurora or Utopia. And you know what? I'd much prefer to stand beside you in this fight. So, thank you for coming to me."

Your heart leapt at his words which felt almost like a confession.

The prince's unwavering eyes remained fixed on yours and just as he leaned in closer, his nose brushed against yours, Mingi loudly cleared his throat, snapping you out of your reverie and interrupting the delicate moment.

Yunho directed a disapproving glare at your guard but soon grasped the reason behind his actions, as the arrival of other attendees signalled the commencement of the meeting.

Thankfully, everyone else had been too distracted by the gravity of the situation to notice your slightly flustered state.

As you and the prince work together to assess the scale of the threat and develop a strategic response, the bond between you grows even stronger than it already is. It was a connection forged not only by your shared responsibility to protect your people but also by the vulnerability and uncertainty of the situation you found yourselves in.

Through this, you discovered that your strengths complemented each other beautifully. Yunho's tactical brilliance and leadership skills blended seamlessly with your sharp intellect and diplomatic finesse.

Through long nights of planning and strategising, you began to trust and rely on each other implicitly.

In the dimly lit courtyard, the air was heavy with anticipation and worry. Prince Yunho of Wonderland stood resolute, clad in his regal armour, his sword gleaming at his side.

Beside him, your eyes brimmed with concern about the inevitable separation.

During your many discussions, you'd insisted on going to war by his side but he had protested and convinced everyone that it would be wiser to keep you in the palace as backup. Deep down, you know it was merely a tactic to keep you safe.

Yunho gazed into your eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

"Remember," He began softly, "I promised to return safely," His voice was unwavering, filled with conviction, "I hope you understand it's crucial that you remain here in the palace, as a beacon of strength and hope for our people. You'll be our guiding light."

You nodded, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Yunho continued, his voice tender and persuasive, "Staying here is the right choice, my princess. You will provide the vital support we need from within these walls. Trust in my determination. I'll do everything in my power to ensure our victory."

As you reluctantly released each other's hands, Yunho planted a tender kiss on your forehead, a final gesture of reassurance.

With unwavering resolve, he turned to depart, leaving behind the woman he now knows he cherished, fully determined to fulfil his promise and return to your side.

And since the day he left to fight the war that your kingdom caused, your days had been marked by waiting, your heart a constant blend of hope and fear. You paced the palace corridors, restless but steadfast, watching the horizon for any sign of Yunho's return.

As time crawled by, whispers of the war's progress reached your ears. Each tidbit of news was a double-edged sword, carrying both relief and anxiety. You clung to the words of those who assured you of Yunho's valour and the strength of your armies.

Then, one fateful day, a messenger arrived, breathless and dishevelled. He bore news of victory, but it came at a price. Your heart raced as you learned that Yunho had been injured in the final battle.

Despite the fear that clenched your heart, there was a glimmer of hope. The prince was on his way back to the palace, victorious yet wounded. You could hardly contain your emotions—relief, worry and an overwhelming desire to see him safe and sound.

With bated breath and tears of both joy and anxiety in your eyes, you readied yourself to welcome the prince home, ready to tend to his wounds, grateful that he was coming back to you.

As Yunho stirred from his week-long coma, he couldn't have been more elated to find you as the first sight that greeted his awakening. You were perched on your elbows by his bedside, fast asleep with tear-stained cheeks.

The sight of you tugged at his heartstrings, a profound realisation washing over him. He knew then, without a shadow of a doubt, that waking up to you each day was what he yearned for.

Gently placing a hand on your cheek to tenderly wipe away your tears, he took care not to disturb your slumber. He breathed a contented sigh as you instinctively nestled into his touch in your sleep.

Gosh, I could watch her like this forever.

But of course, the peace was short-lived like always. Just as Yeosang entered and spotted him awake, the serene moment vanished with the advisor's enthusiastic shout, "He's awake!" echoing down the corridor to summon the attention of the healers.

Yunho silently cursed when the sound roused you from your sleep.

You sat up abruptly, realisation dawning as you discovered he was finally conscious, "Oh my god, Yunho!" You threw your arms around his neck and enveloped him in a tight embrace. Returning your embrace with equal fervour, he buried his face against your shoulder, hearing your whispered words, "It's over, it's finally over."

Although he understood that you were referring to the end of the war with Utopia, he seized the moment to confess his feelings for you.

"No, it's not over yet," You pulled away, a look of confusion crossing your face, "What do you mean it's not over? We won the war, didn't we?"

He smiled, his fingers caressing your face tenderly.

"It's not over until you tell me if you're willing to marry me. If you haven't already noticed, I love you, princess. I can't pinpoint when it all began, but after all the time we've spent together and all the trials we've faced, I only know that I can't bear to spend another day without you by my side. Throughout that war, the one thing that kept me going was the thought of returning to you and asking you myself; Will you marry me?"

At long last, Yunho admits to himself and you that he's fallen in love with you. Lucky for him, you felt exactly the same.

You smiled tearfully back at him, "I thought you'd never ask, Yunho. I love you too, my prince. And the answer is yes, I will marry you." Putting a hand up to stop the healers and Yeosang from entering, he wasted no time pressing his lips firmly against yours in a passionate and emotional kiss.

Finally.

Not wanting to cockblock the pair any further, the servants scurried to pull the doors to the prince's bed chambers closed to give the two some privacy for the time being.

Now, all that's left for the prince to do is man up and speak to his parents about this.

In the opulent royal chamber of the palace, Prince Yunho, his demeanour a mix of determination and vulnerability, stood before his parents. You had initially offered to go with him but he had refused, telling you that this was something he had to do on his own.

With a steady voice and unwavering eyes, he expressed his heartfelt desire.

"Mother, father," He began, "I wish to marry the Princess of Aurora now, without delay." His words carried a depth of conviction that resonated through the room.

His parents, the king and queen of Wonderland, exchanged knowing glances. A warm, teasing smile crept onto their faces as they responded to their son's heartfelt request.

"Well, well," The queen quipped with a playful glint in her eye, "It seems our prince has finally surrendered to the inevitability of an arranged marriage."

The king chuckled in agreement, his tone light yet affectionate, "Indeed, my son. It's about time you acknowledged the wisdom of our arrangements."

Yunho, while blushing slightly at their playful teasing, nodded with a genuine smile.

His parents' gentle ribbing was a testament to their shared understanding and affectionate bond. It marked the beginning of a new chapter in his life—one filled with the promise of love, unity and a bright future with the princess he had come to cherish.

Meanwhile, back in Aurora, your parents brimmed with joy upon receiving the news. They got to work immediately with the wedding arrangements.

Swiftly, an official announcement about the union of the Prince of Wonderland and the Princess of Aurora was made to the people of both nations.

In the wake of the collective struggle against Utopia, the people had found a way to set aside their differences and grievances.

Together, they rejoiced in their newfound unity, celebrating not only the alliance between the two kingdoms but also their triumphant victory over Utopia. The past was relegated to history and a promising future beckoned, marked by cooperation, harmony and shared aspirations.

"Congratulations, my dear princess," Yeri grinned as she took a step back, admiring her handiwork. Your hair and makeup were flawless, "Thank you, Yeri, for standing by my side through it all," You expressed your gratitude, "I hope you've grown accustomed to Wonderland because we'll be here for the long haul."

Yeri chuckled, "Oh, princess, I didn't come here with the expectation of returning to Aurora. I suppose deep down, I knew this is where you truly belong—right by Prince Yunho's side."

A delicate blush warmed your cheeks at the mention of your soon-to-be husband.

Yeri regarded you with affection, her gaze filled with sincerity, "You look so genuinely happy these days, princess. That's all I've ever wished for you—happiness. Promise me you'll keep this joy alive for a long time."

You nodded, tears shimmering in your eyes, "I will, Yeri, I promise."

"Don't you dare shed a tear; I spent ages on your eye makeup!" Yeri quipped and you both shared a laugh. Your heart swelled with warmth when you noticed Mingi, your closest guard, wearing a subtle smile in his corner, "I see you there, Song Mingi." You teased.

He scoffed lightly, "I wasn't trying to hide. But congratulations, your highness." Touched by his gesture, you approached Mingi and hugged him, careful not to disrupt your wedding gown.

At that moment, the bond between you and your loyal guard and handmaiden was a testament to the enduring friendships that had guided you through the journey to this joyous occasion.

In the resplendent palace courtyard, where the sun bathed the surroundings in a warm, golden glow, the Prince of Wonderland and the Princess of Aurora stood before their families, their subjects, and the benevolent eyes of the heavens.

With heartfelt sincerity, you exchanged vows, your voices carrying the weight of your love and commitment. Yunho's voice, steady and unwavering, vowed to cherish and protect you for all time, while your words promised to stand by his side through all the trials and joys that life would bring.

As you concluded your vows, the air seemed to hold its breath, witnessing this profound declaration of love.

The moment that followed was pure magic—a sweet, tender kiss that sealed your promises and marked the beginning of your journey together as husband and wife. The world around you faded, leaving only the prince and princess, lost in the warmth of your love and the promise of a beautiful future ahead.

The kingdoms of Wonderland and Aurora have come together not only through the arranged marriage but also through the genuine love and connection between Prince Yunho and his princess.

Your union becomes a symbol of lasting peace.

Gazing out from the balcony of your and Yunho's bed chambers, you released a contented sigh, entranced by the breathtaking view of Wonderland.

Never had you imagined such a reality for yourself.

Marriage had always appeared as a mere obligation, a duty that came with your role as the princess of your realm. Yet, here you stood, wedded to the love of your life.

It was beyond anything you could have hoped for.

Reflecting on your initial apprehension at the prospect of marrying Yunho, you chuckled at the insignificance of those fears now.

Your lips curled into a smile as the familiar embrace of strong arms enveloped you from behind, drawing your form close to his, the contrast in your sizes a comforting reminder of his protective presence.

"What are you doing out here all alone, hm? Come back to bed, my love," He murmured, pressing affectionate kisses along your exposed neck, "Just reminiscing about how silly we were at the start. Look at us now, so happy together."

Yunho's smile illuminated the night as he gently turned you to face him, "I'm glad that marrying for love is no longer only a dream never to come true for you," He whispered before capturing your lips in a loving kiss, "I love you so much, my princess."

A swell of joy filled your heart, a testament to the boundless depth of your love, "I love you too, my prince. Thank you for making my dream come true."

In the realm of Wonderland and Aurora, where love had once been the cornerstone of your alliance, Prince Yunho and you, the Princess of Aurora, embarked on your journey of happily ever after.

Your union, born from an arranged marriage but nurtured by genuine love, was a symbol of unity and hope for your kingdoms.

Together, you ruled with wisdom, compassion and unwavering devotion to your people. The lands of Wonderland and Aurora flourished under your reign and the scars of past conflicts began to heal as the two kingdoms truly became one.

Hand in hand, you ventured through the seasons of life, sharing laughter, dreams and challenges. Your love, built on a foundation of trust and companionship, only deepened with time. Together, you found solace in each other's arms and the comfort of knowing you were each other's greatest support.

As the sun set over your united kingdoms, you stood on the balcony of your palace together, watching the horizon with hearts full of contentment.

Your journey had been one of growth, resilience and love, and you knew that your happily ever after would continue to unfold, a testament to the power of love in the face of adversity.

Hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading! I love reading your thoughts, reviews and feedback so feel free to leave a reply, an ask or even a message if you want! <3

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[day-drawn-blog]

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die. - "I want to live".

Pairing: Astarion x Reader. This is set in Act I.

Tags: angst....

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace.

Part IV : There is more to do and I still want to live.

Part V : our futures bound, our bodies known.

Part VI: These ain't my sins. I broke my chains.

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours.

Part VIII : Your blood like wine, invites me in.

Part IX : I welcome my sentence, to give you my penance

--------

Into the night, turbulent thoughts led you to dark places in your mind. You got up, and stepped out. The campsite was desolate. Serene. You walked towards the distant hills. Alone. Feelings of loneliness, rejection, abandonment haunting you. The bond you thought you had built with another, these past few weeks, was perhaps too fragile to endure. A shared secret had brought you close. Only a yearning remained. Of what could have been. 

He was holding her, consoling her. 

You reasoned. The cool air on your face brought you back to the present. The great vastness in front of you, made you feel, insignificant. You had been too greedy, and had come full circle to the start. You were here back then. Rejected, and abandoned. But now....amidst the chaos you knew you did the right thing. You would trade guilt for your pain any day. You needed to bring order. 

You needed to refocus. 

The moonlight bathed you. You heard someone approach. You didn't expect him that night. But there he was. You looked at your cut, blood trickling down. "Stay back, Astarion. Do not come closer." He didn't heed your warning. Bad move. You thought through gritted teeth. You had overlooked every transgression of his. No more. 

You reached for your weapon. 

You swung it. The great hallberd gleamed in the moonlight and was met with two of his swords held in each hand. Anger coursing through you, you retreated and attacked. Again and again. What you lacked in martial skill you made up in pure bitterness. He defended himself well. He was more skilled in wielding his melee weapons than you were. 

His eyes were as resolved as yours. 

He hadn't uttered a word till then. But you were beginning to lose your breath, and your footing. You could incinerate him instantly, but that wasn't your goal. That wouldn't suffice, wouldn't calm your wrath. You hit, harder, repeatedly. He parried every single one, swift on his feet. Eventually he overpowered you. 

He had a sword to your throat. 

You fell to your knees. Exhausted. Still in the grips of an unfathomable rage. You cast Eldritch Blast on a nearby rock, shattering it to pieces. Only then did you feel your rage subside a bit. Spent, you on all fours, you hit the ground with a fist. He threw his swords in front of you. "Stop", he growled. "I'm yours... already" he continued. "Stop this madness. Why ...punish yourself in my stead. My body is yours. Just ... use me as you wish...punish me ... or use me for pleasure ..." 

"However you like. As you desire..." 

What nonsense is this?!. Does he understand the gravity of what he is saying? Has he lost his mind? 

"I do not want you, Astarion. You are not a thing, nor mine to claim". You got up. "Why are you here, anyway?" You couldn't mask your resentment. You no longer wished to be caught in his web of lies, ensnared by his charm, in the illusion of love and desire. Yes you craved to be needed, wanted, sought out. But this... was just an mirage. Carefully crafted to manipulate you. 

You were being used the entire time. 

And you would put an end to that now. Fully resolved to not relent to his charm. To none of his advances. You braced for the next honeyed words he would inevitably utter, to pull you back into the dream he wove. But he said something entirely unprecedented. "I ....have nowhere else to be". He said, quietly. 

Another lie. You thought. 

"You abandoned Shadowheart? I cannot help but marvel at the coldness of your heart. But of course, you are a vampire. You do not have one". 

You hoped to cut him. But why. 

He looked at you, searching, with his eyes. Did you really mean that? He could try reading you all he wanted. Your face wouldn't betray your inner turmoil. Unable to fathom you.... He relented. 

"She doesn't ...want me. She never did. All she ever wanted, all anyone...has ever wanted...from me...was pleasure. When someone seeks me out...I do not refuse them. It's what she did. So I gave myself to her. It's what I was taught. It's all I have ever known, to do. As long as I can remember...to be". 

"It's, all ...I am". 

Wait. What? Hold on...

"In another lifetime" he continued. Oblivious to the horror on your face. "I would have taken her to my master, Cazador. No one has ever sought me out, more than once. They never got a chance..you see. They either died...or were enslaved by my master." He looked at you, nonchalantly explaining his life to you... Not realizing how it made you feel. 

Your words failed you. 

Astarion was baring his most vulnerable self to you. He was being....honest. Was that really how he had lived ...under Cazador? How could Cazador do that to him? You needed to help him. The hatred in you, the seething rage was replaced with remorse. That you hadn't known ...about his man. About the darkness he was battling with. He was a prisoner in the past ...and a prisoner now, to the scars he bore. 

"But now...is different". He continued.

"She did seek me out. More than once. And I was happy, to oblige. I was grateful. I was happy ...to be of use to her. She is beautiful...and powerful...and kind. I felt safe... protected. So, I served her, to my best ability." So ... Yes, you both found pleasure in each other. But she probably felt more than that about you, Astarion. Or were you so oblivious to the fact that someone can want you...for more than pleasure....it made you blind to ...her true feelings?

He needed saving. And love. 

"Why abandon her now? If you devote yourself to her, she will continue to cherish and protect you. Im.sure. " you reassured him. "That's what you want isn't it?" You gently led him. Hoping to steer him in the right way. If Shadowheart could bring him out of the darkness, maybe he should ...let her. 

He shook his head. He disagreed. 

"I felt ...empty...with her. Around her. I had to wear my mask. Never let her know who I was, lest she throw me away, because I was a ...monster. I am a monster, you see. I'm prey on the living. I drink...blood." He looked away. 

He really despised himself, you noticed. 

The regret in his voice was palpable. "But you.... You forgave me, for being, who I was. I felt free...with you. I have never been myself, around anyone outside of Cazador's ..."family"...Returning to her ... after you...was exhausting. Unsettling..." 

"I didn't want it anymore. "

"Didn't look forward to it...it was ... difficult. I was growing cold to her...avoiding her. She noticed ...I'm sure. But she never spoke of it. Which led me to believe she never sought me outside of ...carnal pleasure. Perhaps she had tired of me too. Perhaps I wasn't my best... with her anymore. I couldn't force myself anymore. I was happier....when with you..."

You wanted to heal his fragile heart. 

"I do not want you for carnal pleasure Astarion. That's not what I need from you. I will give you my protection freely. And perhaps my blood, should you desperately need it." Astarion looked at you. That was not what he was expecting to hear at all. He was fully prepared to be thrown away. He had had several nights with you. More than he could have wished for. 

He was happy with just that. 

What had he done to deserve that? Him. Why him? He was the lowest of the low. A murderer, evil incarnate. Despicable.  "But ...why? I have given nothing to you. I have only taken .. I have nothing to offer you...I have nothing...I possess nothing, The only thing I know how to do, only thing I'm good at....is ...my body. To serve...to pleasure ..." 

"So ... just use me, please". He pleaded. 

Must he be so used to degrading himself? "You can offer me many things Astarion. Your loyalty to start. Your cheerful disposition. Your strength... both of body and mind. Your... friendship ...your trust." You smiled at him. You could give me your real self, your affection ...your pure, uninhibited love... But you didn't say that. That was not something you would ask. "You can keep your promise to me from the other night. A reason ...for me to live on". You reminded him. 

"I do need you too....your embrace... " 

You said, as you smiled, you looked at him. To reassure him that you meant it. He looked at you blankly at first. Unsure. But ..then...in what felt, forever. His face lit up. "Really? Is that all you want...from me? Can I offer you ... Yes....i promise you...you have my.. my trust and my faith. My loyalty and my unwavering friendship. My gratitude." He walked to you. "You have ...all of me. Every bit of me. The monster and the ally. The sword and the shield. My ..self ..." He held you. 

"I'm yours. Only yours". He smiled.

Looking at you. "Whether you need me or not, I'm here for you. You need not look further.. I devote myself to you. Till you...till you no longer want me". He held your face in his hands. His voiced suddenly tinged with sadness. "But even so ....I only hope and prey, that you don't abandon me. Can you promise me? After making me feel wanted, for who I am.... I would not be able to live on, if you threw me away too...I have no one else..." 

He pleaded with his eyes... Before kissing you.

-------

Epilogue 1 -

Leave the flames and take a chance to be with me tonight

[throneofsapphics]

have your little girlfriend, part four

Rowaelin x f!Reader 

Summary: At first she thought everyone was so nice but the nasty things came quickly. Whispers when they thought she couldn’t hear, why a lowly common girl would be paired with such powerful people, even if she’d ensnared them somehow. If anything, they had ensnared her.

Warnings: dark-ish aelin/rowan, light d/s, blood, death (not shown), injury, bit of smut, drinking, minors dni!

Word Count: ~5.1k 

A/N: I intended for this to be the last part but I mentally can’t control myself 

series masterlist

She’d been close to giving in to their request, for her to move into the castle with them. And stay permanently. They promised she’d have her own space, and wouldn’t have to give up any of her work or other parts of her life. 

But, something happened to force her hand. 

Someone she never thought she’d see again showed up on her doorstep, after five gods-damned years. The one real heart-break she thought she experienced. They had met during the time she spent with the Wolf Tribe, waiting for their summons to battle. Maybe because she was young, she fell hard. And deep. 

But, after the battle was over, and she’d finally startled to settle into her new life, he told her he was done. 

“Why? Can you please give me a reason?” She nearly begged. Anything except, ‘I'm done.’ 

“I don’t feel enough for you.” The words were cold, and harsh, and something snapped inside her. 

“Get out.” She didn’t wait for an answer before shoving him out the door, slamming it behind him and locking every single one. She heard a few knocks, a few pounds, and knew what he wanted - some kind of break-up sex, a goodbye of sorts, but he wouldn’t be getting anything out of her. She could scent another female all over him. 

“I made the biggest mistake, leaving you.” He looked desperate. 

“It’s been three years.” She said through gritted teeth. 

“And I’ve been thinking about you still, ever since. Doesn’t that mean something?” 

“No.” Her voice was cold, but something akin to anger flashed through his eyes, and he shoved against the door, enough that she stumbled back in surprise, and he pushed his way inside. 

“Get out.” She demanded, and cursed herself for not having a dagger on her. Mentally she tried to figure out where the nearest one would be … behind her - on that counter. She slowly stepped back, watching as he pushed forward. Her door was still open, good. 

“Let me explain.” He matched each of her steps, moving slightly closer each time. She pressed back against the counter, hands seeming to clutch the wood - but one fist clenched against the small, recently sharpened - thanks to Rowan, knife. 

“I’m giving you one more chance to get the hell out.” She warned him. 

“Not until you listen to me, hear me out.” He grabbed her shoulder, hand digging in tight enough it would bruise, and she swung, cutting sideways across his bicep. 

“You bitch,” He snarled, and she twisted her hand to strike again, but a large gust of wind blasted him away from her, her hair flowing back slightly. 

Aelin and Rowan were by the door. One second later Aelin was above him, knife pressed sharply against his neck, saying something she couldn’t hear, and Rowan was before her, blocking her view, his eyes taking in every inch of her body. She winced as she shifted her shoulder, and saw his eyes darken. 

His magic healed the sore spot before she could say another word. 

“You’re carrion.” Aelin snarled, and y/n angled her head to try and see, but two fingers pressed against her cheek to guide her gaze back to Rowan. 

“Are you okay?” She nodded, keeping her eyes on him, but wondered if a male would be murdered in her living room today. Maybe she could convince them not to, to just let him go.

“What happened?” his voice was low enough only she could hear. “Who is he?” 

“An … he’s an old boyfriend. He wanted to talk.” 

-

Rowan snarled softly, his head turning to look at the male, his eyes meeting Aelin’s. 

He tried to get her back. To take her away. He hurt her. 

The look in Aelin’s eyes told him the male wouldn’t live the night. 

“He didn’t mean to -” 

“Don’t.” Rowan cut her off. Y/n would try and argue, try to get them to just leave him and let him go. They didn’t have to tell her exactly what would happen. But … he hurt her, and tried to take her away from them. Every primal instinct in him was flaring. “You’re moving in with us.” He told her. She’d stay where he could keep her safe, keep her away from anyone that might harm her. 

Her throat swallowed, but she nodded. 

“We’ll come back for your things later.” 

Are you taking her back, or am I? He asked Aelin. 

I’ll take her. She answered after a moment, standing up. Good, his wind could drown out any screams. The male seemed to sag with relief, until he caught sight of Rowan approaching, every step lethal. 

-

She was close to saying yes, to moving in of her own will, but now it felt a bit like she was forced to. She reasoned with herself, saying it would have happened soon enough anyways. 

“You did well.” Rowan said later that night, he came back after a few hours. He must’ve cleaned himself somewhere, because only a faint hint of copper remained. 

Y/n hugged her arms tightly around her chest. “With what?” 

“Defending yourself.” He answered, but there was a tension in him, a tension through his whole body. 

“I wasn’t in any real danger.” 

He looked at her incredulously. “Someone forced their way into your home, and you ended up cutting them.” 

She’s almost completely confident she would’ve been fine. He crossed the room, and gently grabbed her hands. “You’re safer here.” 

“I was safe enough in my own home.” She snapped, looking away from him. He curled his fingers around her chin, forcing her to look at him. Y/n expected some kind of remark, something that would undercut her, but his eyes only fixed on hers, on her face, before drifting to her shoulder and back up. 

“He hurt you.” There was so much rage in those three words. “I wasn’t there to protect you.” Her face softened slightly. 

“It’s not your fault.” She emphasized, but it didn’t seem to get through to him. “Rowan.” Her fingers brushed against his cheek, and his hand slid down to rest on the side of her neck. “I’m fine, you came. You came for me.” 

She didn’t think those words exactly fit the scenario, but could tell he needed to hear them, or something along the lines of that. Her finger brushed back and forth against his cheek, until some of the tension seemed to leave his body. 

“I won’t fail you,” he murmured, wrapping her up in his arms. “Not again.” 

“You never failed me.” 

-

A male was murdered in her living room. Rowan and Aelin didn’t say anything about it, but she knew. By the time she got back to gather her things, no scent of blood or copper remained. No trace of him, or what happened yesterday. But there was some kind of stain in the house. She couldn’t live here again, not knowing that happened. 

Both of them hovered as she packed everything up. There wasn’t much to take beyond her clothes and books. The rest of her work things - she decided she could at least work from here, until she could find a different place. Perhaps sell the townhouse and set up some kind of shop or get a small apartment and modify it. Or even expand beyond the markets and have her own little store. 

-

Aelin seemed to be bouncing on her feet when they got back, insisting they had something to show her. 

“We promised you a private space.” She led her down a few halls, to a more secluded portion of the castle, and on ground level. 

A large room, with a door leading out to a garden, and … a workshop, just for her. She turned around in awe, examining the space. Shelves for her books, a full kitchen area to make chocolates, and it looked so much like her own space - almost modeled after it. “You had this made,” she said softly, turning to face her. 

“Yes,” Aelin had a wide grin on her face, and y/n strode across the room to hug her and thank her. 

-

It took another week for her to realize how long they’d been planning this. It must’ve taken some time to re-do the space, and to have it done before she even decided to move in with them. That had never been a permanent thing, something set in stone that would happen. But to them, it was. A tiny bit of doubt crept into her, but she shoved it down, deep deep down where it wouldn’t emerge again. They’d transformed an entire set of rooms just for her. So she would feel more comfortable, feel at home. She let gratitude fill her instead.

Rowan grew to love y/n, it was natural. But - as an immortal, there’s some things he never forgets. Couldn’t forget, and hurting Aelin - in any form - was one of them. When Aelin took her first trip away from both of them, he took his chance. 

- 

“This is for making Aelin cry,” Rowan tugged her over his lap, her bare body brushing against his, feeling the rough fabric of his pants scrape against her. The female in question was gone on a diplomatic trip. Visiting Perranth, she thought, but couldn’t be too certain. Rowan and Aelin mostly kept her separated from court business. Y/n, however, was confused. Had Rowan waited specifically for when she’d be gone? 

“I didn’t, I never -” 

A swat landed against her ass. Instantly reddening it, and she squealed, her body squirming to try and move away, but he held her down with one arm. He rubbed the sore area, soothing it gently before striking again - this time hitting the other cheek. 

Pain lanced through her as she whimpered, but stopped struggling. 

“I wouldn’t make her cry, I swear.” She whined. But - arousal started slipping through her, something tightened in her stomach. Why would that happen?  

“She came back, after you told her you were going to leave, and cried.” He said roughly, before laying a harsh series of smacks against her ass, ignoring the way she whimpered, the tears dripping from her eyes, but y/n didn’t tell him to stop. If she’d made Aelin cry … Gods she hated herself for that. Felt like she deserved it now. But … her core started to throb, that confused her. 

“Months,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, “that was months ago.” 

“I don’t forget.” Immortal. They were all immortal. Six months is nothing to them. It was six months ago. 

The hits grew more intense with each one, starting to spread through her entire body. The last one jolted her forward, rocking her against his knees. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?” His voice was mocking, teasing, and made a few more tears stream down her face. He pulled her up, moving her to straddle his lap, and pulled her tight against his chest, his arms wrapping around her. She stayed stiff, the fabric against her ass stinging. 

“I don’t like making her cry,” y/n mumbled into his chest. 

“I know.” It sounded like a warning. It was a warning, not to do that again. Not to hurt Aelin. She’d never would - couldn’t, not intentionally. “But you liked when I spanked you, didn’t you?” Words wouldn’t come to her - she couldn’t speak, didn’t know what to say, but he dragged two fingers through her core, her slick arousal gathering on them. 

“If I ask you a question, answer me.” 

“My - my body liked it.” 

“A little painslut,” he crooned, lips grazing just above her ear. “You took that so well.” 

The praise made her body shiver. Both him and Aelin had already figured that out about her. Just how much she liked it - being praised. 

-

Aelin returned without much fanfare, and made her way right to where she knew y/n would be at this time of day. Rowan, she knew, was likely stuck in a meeting - but would find them directly after. 

Sure enough, she found her fiddling with something. As soon as the doors opened, y/n dropped the tools and smiled, bounding across the room to wrap her in a hug. Aelin breathed in her scent, nutmeg and honey, and squeezed back before pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Have fun without me?” 

“Without you?” Her head tilted, “never.” 

But, something seemed off. She was hesitant - had something she needed to say. Aelin started to worry, she still had a fear that y/n would wake up one day and decide to leave. Not that she’d let her, not easily, but the fear still lived in some small, dark place deep inside her. 

“I’m sorry, for making you cry.” 

Aelin frowned. Y/n hadn’t … that day, when she said she was done. Rowan, he probably remembered it and took the first chance he had to - well she isn’t sure what he would do. 

“You’re forgiven,” she pulled her into her chest, stroking one hand through her hair. “More than forgiven.”

-

“We never see you any more,” her friend groaned, leaning back in her seat. It was a rare night when she could make her way out of the castle. They didn’t exactly keep her from her friends, but between her business and their close proximity, they took up most of her time. Despite everything, the bond was still new - they’d just fully accepted each other as mates a month or so ago. Well, she’d fully accepted them. 

“I’ll make more time.” She promised and accepted a glass of wine with a smile. 

One turned to two, to three, to four, and after that she lost count. She was hiccuping and smiling, sharing old stories and listening to her friends extravagant details about her love life. 

“Y/n,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Spill.” 

“I already spilled,” she frowned, looking down at the small red stain on her shirt. That would be a pain to get out, but it was a problem for tomorrow. 

“No,” she moaned, “your love life.” 

“Oh,” she squeezed her glass a little tighter. “It’s … fulfilling.” 

“Details,” she wiggled her brows, the liquid sloshing in the glass. 

“Maybe another time,” she grinned. Not. The details of her love life were private and she didn’t need her friend knowing how the Queen of Terrasen likes to tease her to unbearable levels, trailing her fingers dangerously high on her thigh during public dinners or how the King throws her over his lap and turns her ass red enough she feels it the next day.  

A polite knock sounded on the door, and her friend shot up, spilling her glass as she set it down on the table before darting to the door. Y/n scented the pine and snow before the door opened, and her temper flared. What the hell was he doing here? 

-

“I don’t need you to fetch me,” she snarled at him as he nearly dragged her out to the street. He rolled his eyes, scooping her up with one arm around her back, one under her legs, and ignoring her protests and grumbles of complaints. 

He deposited her on the couch, and she crossed her arms. Eyes glazed over, an alcohol flush covering her cheeks and chest - how much did she drink? Considering the stink of wine and spots on her shirt, more than she could handle. 

“You’re a bastard,” she hissed - spitting like a cat. And a mad one. 

“You were incapable of getting yourself home.” He dismissed her argument, turning his back. He felt the shift in the air, heard the whizz of something flying, and ducked in time to avoid a pillow launched at his head. 

“How dare you?” She nearly screeched, and he winced slightly. Aelin was away on one of her queenly duties, leaving him stuck with their pissed off mate. Who likes to throw things when she’s particularly upset. Maybe it’s a good thing Aelin isn’t here - when it comes to tempers, although it takes y/n a lot longer to reach hers, Aelin tends to match her energy. She rose to her feet, swaying slightly and clutching the arm of the couch to keep her balance. 

“Sit. Down.” A muscle in his jaw clenched. 

“Incapable? I’m not some gods-damned child who needs minding. I’m a fully grown female, fully capable of handling myself.” 

“Obviously not.” He hissed at her, and realized his mistake as tears pricked in the corner of her eyes. 

“Y/n,” he called, his voice softer than before as he forced himself to relax and held his hands up in a show of piece. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” She announced, and flopped herself back down, tucking a pillow under her head and turning to face the back of the couch. 

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. He could, and would clean this up. 

“I’ll take the couch.” He stalked over to her side, pulling her up by her arm and ignoring her protests. She was unsteady on her feet, enough that he visibly could see her swallow her pride and lean on him for support. That satisfied the part of him feeling the need to be useful, to serve in some way. As soon as he safely saw her to bed, making sure she kicked her shoes off and turned on her side, he left. One hand braced on the door, he turned to find her dozing into sleep, mouth parted - a few tears dripping down her cheeks, the flush from earlier still present. 

Space, he needed to give her some space. Not invade her privacy, just let her cool down some. His eyes shuttered closed and he gave himself a few moments to breathe before doing his best to make himself comfortable on the couch. That didn’t stop him from checking on her every hour.

-

“I’m sorry.” Rowan said over breakfast the next morning. She lowered her mug, her lips had just pressed against the porcelain, about to take a sip, but now she wondered if she was hallucinating. 

“Really?” It stung something inside of her that she doubted. Doubted his apology, or if he actually meant it. 

“Yes.” A muscle in his jaw flexed, but she couldn’t scent a lie on him. “You are capable, and it was wrong of me to say otherwise.” How long had he rehearsed this? Maybe had all night to think of it on the couch - too short to comfortably fit his body. 

“I’m glad you see reason.” He wouldn’t get a thank you out of her, not for something he should’ve already known - or for taking back hurtful words. It wasn’t some magnanimous gesture, and y/n refused to give him the expectation it was otherwise. Something else gleamed in his eyes, an emotion it took her a minute to place. Respect. For holding her ground.

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, and jerked his chin towards her cup of tea. “Drink that before it gets cold. Aelin isn’t here to warm it.” 

She rolled her eyes this time, a small compromise - but better than him dragging her out of her friends house. 

The small cracks started to appear, but they were easily mended for now. 

-

“Did he behave himself?” Aelin asked as she returned, peppering her face with enough kisses her mate let out an adorable laugh. If Aelin could record that sound and bring it with her everywhere, she would.

“He admitted to his mistake.” Y/n’s mouth indented at one corner. She already had Rowan wrapped around her finger, in her own way, if she could cow him into that. 

Her eyes glinted and a mischievous grin crossed her face. “And, pray-tell, what was this mistake?” 

“Something already taken care of.” Rowan grunted. Aelin huffed a laugh and let it go for now, knowing she’d pry the details out of him later. 

-

Y/n sighed as she sorted through some of the paperwork associated with her work. Permits, deals with local shops, orders directly placed through her. With her relationship public knowledge, interest in her goods had taken off over the course of the last year. Of course, she loved the new business but it became overwhelming. Enough that she drew away from the market she loved so much, instead working with local shops and private orders to long time customers. Exclusively. She missed the Saturday mornings, socializing with the other vendors when she was still a nobody. Well, not quite a nobody but not a public figure, in a way. When nobody tried to buy her things to gain advantage with her - to try and get an ‘in’ with her mates. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose and slumped down on her desk, fighting the urge to bang her head against the wood, instead settling for a groan. Resentment, ugly, vicious, and unwarranted resentment had settled inside of her - aimed towards her mates when none of this was their fault. There was no one to speak of it with, no one to confide in, and she didn’t dare write it down where they could read it - or any spies who might get a bit too snoopy, a bit too eager to look for any cracks in the relationship they might exploit. She caught Aelin skimming through one of her journals once, and launched into the most explosive fight they’d had so far. 

The castle, too, suffocated her. Maids - who she took great pains to become friendly with, given how skittish and closed off they were at the beginning, used to slip into her workshop to clean things. It came from a good place - or a sense of duty, but she didn’t let most people into her space, into her own little sanctuary. Even Rowan and Aelin had learned to knock and wait for her to allow them inside. Only one person was allowed to enter without asking, mostly because she couldn’t manage to keep Fenrys out, no matter how much snarling she would do, or things she would toss his way. 

She’d asked them to stop, but it took Aelin saying something to get them to actually quit. At first she thought everyone was so nice but the nasty things came quickly. Whispers when they thought she couldn’t hear, why a lowly common girl would be paired with such powerful people, even if she’d ensnared them somehow. If anything, they had ensnared her. 

Another ugly thought. Maybe if she took a trip back to the Staghorns and breathed some clean, nearly untouched, mountain air. Visit the cousins she hasn’t seen frequently, ones who chose to stay with the Wolf Tribe after the battle. They always came to Orynth, and she rarely went there. Yulemas was coming up in around two months, and it would be a lengthy trip. They already sent word they couldn’t make it this year and guilt rattled at her that she never went there, always assuming they liked to visit here.

When was the last time she shifted? Or used magic beyond what she did for her work. On another thought, had she ever showed them her animal form? In three years … she can’t remember doing it, or remember then asking. 

Pine, snow, jasmine, and lemon verbena flooded her senses, followed by a knock on the door. “Come in,” she called. If she was going to plant the idea, now was the time to do it. 

“You look exhausted, my love,” Aelin frowned as she approached her, perching on the one empty corner of her desk. Rowan surveyed the room, finding all of her tools still out - the benches and desks a complete mess. 

“Can I clean for you?” He asked and she nodded. Aelin was still banned from ‘helping,’ and finally stopped pouting over it. 

Aelin flicked her nose when she gazed off again, drawing an indignant cross between a grumble and a yelp, and grabbed one of her hands instead, running her thumb back and forth over the top of it. 

“What’s on your mind?” 

“I haven’t visited home in a while.” 

Tension flooded the room as they both stiffened. Rowan kept working - quickly, much quicker than she could, putting everything back in it’s proper place, but the silence disturbed her enough she started squirming. 

“Are you thinking of visiting?” Aelin said tightly. 

“I am,” she said cautiously. Not thinking of it, planning it, but she’d take baby steps. Would they stop her if she really wanted to go? She didn’t know, and it unsettled her. 

“It’s a long journey.” 

“Not if I shift.” She sucked her lips inside while checking Aelin’s reaction. Shock quickly passed, followed by curiosity. 

“I never asked what it is.” Y/n nodded her head in confirmation. 

“It’s a fox.” Rowan said over his shoulder. 

“How does he know everything?” Aelin grumbled. “Show me.” 

“It’s been a while.” She ran her hand through her hair. 

“That’s fine.” 

Aelin wouldn’t let this go until she showed her. Grumbling, y/n stood and gave herself some space, focusing on drawing inside of herself, to her magic, and finding that small vulpine part - and finding it nearly pleading and begging to be let free. So she did, and with a flash of light her body morphed, senses becoming sharper. 

Aelin cooed at the little white fox before her, ignoring Rowan’s snort. 

She reached a hand out, and y/n snapped her teeth, letting out a chitter of amusement as Aelin withdrew her hand with a huff. “Feisty.” 

This felt nice, and right. She wanted to stay here, to live where everything was simpler. Where human emotions didn’t interfere, and she could just exist on one plane. 

-

Rowan cursed himself for not encouraging y/n to shift before. He knew what her form was, but hadn’t told her how necessary it was for Fae to let out the more animal side of them on occasion. He doubted she’d want to come out of it anytime soon, and was certain it would take lots of coaxing to get her to. 

He caught Aelin’s glance, his eyes saying “she won’t come out of it anytime soon.” 

Aelin frowned, watching their mate almost prance around the room, investigating everything through vulpine senses. 

“Why?” 

“She probably hasn’t shifted in a good while.” 

“So there’s going to be a fox in our bed?” 

Rowan grimaced. “Maybe.” 

It took Rowan 24 hours, and several promises he’d take her out to the mountains before y/n relented. 

-

“I heard you’re looking to visit home.” Fenrys said three days later, barging into her workroom, as he always did when he was bored and in town. 

“I’m trying.” She huffed, cutting the fabric with a bit more force than necessary. 

“I’m due to visit the Wolf Tribe soon.” He said mildly, his eyes fixed on her knife. 

“Did they send you?” She made another slice, holding the fabric firmly. 

“No.” He sounded vaguely offended and rounded the table to stand in front of her. “I thought you might enjoy my company.” A hint of amusement was in his voice, “considering you need a break from them.” 

“I never said -” 

“You didn’t have to.” She frowned at the interruption, and he sighed. 

“They’re overbearing, at the best of times, and already driving you to the brink of insanity. You need a break before that happens.” 

“A break from my mates?” Before she had a mental breakdown, went unsaid. 

“You forget I’ve been stuck with them for much longer princess.” 

“Don’t call me that.” She snipped at him. 

“Why not?” He pulled out a seat, leaning back in it so it was precariously balanced on its back two legs. If it falls - good on him. “It annoys you. It’s my job as an older brother to annoy the shit out of you.” 

“I’m not your sister.” She hissed. 

“Might as well be.” He shrugged his shoulders. The thought warmed her heart more than she cared to admit. 

“I’ve …” she hesitated. He motioned for her to continue. “I missed being a nobody.” 

“You were never a nobody,” Fenrys said sharply, his chair slamming back forward to rest firmly on the ground, his hands gripping the edge of the table. 

“That’s not what I meant,” she sighed, and abandoned the knife. “I mean not having constant eyes on me. Not being called a ‘lowly commoner.’” 

His head tilted, and she saw the dangerous look in his eyes. “Who?” 

Y/n didn’t need to question him further to know who he was asking about. She shook her head instead. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t remember.” 

“Liar.” He purred, leaning back in his seat again. She knew Aelin could be insistent, but if Fenrys set his mind on something - if he decided one of his friends, or in her case his adopted sister, had been wronged - nothing could stop him from tracking down and making sure vengeance was served where it was owed. 

“Let it go, please.” She pleaded, and his lips pressed into a tight line. Fenrys narrowed his eyes, and she spent a few moments in anticipatory silence before he spoke.

“If you make a bargain with me.” 

Her back straightened. Bargain - there’s a lot of power in that word, especially amongst Fae, and they didn't take it lightly. “The terms?” 

“I accompany you to the Staghorns whenever you visit.” That would keep Rowan and Aelin off her backs. 

“What do I get out of it?” She had a feeling it wouldn’t be much. 

“I don’t tell Rowan and Aelin, and I don’t rip the tongues out of whoever you’re trying to protect.” 

She crossed her arms and leaned back. “That’s nowhere near fair.” 

“I could go tell them right now.” He said with an edged chuckle. 

“Fine.” If only to keep them from overreacting. 

“Shake on it.” He extended his hand, and she took it - reluctantly. Y/n would keep her promise, and knew he would keep hers. 

“You need to listen to the wording more carefully,” he sighed. “I’m almost disappointed.”

She thought over what he said, again, and her jaw dropped. Whenever. Not when, but any time she visits. “You conniving little bastard.” 

“I’m an emissary anyways, I like to visit there.” She gave him a soft smile in understanding. To visit, maybe even to be around the wolves - fresh mountain air far from the confines of a capital city. 

“Looks like we’ll have to make some more trips.” 

“You deserve to,” his throat bobbed, “spend time with family.” 

She kicked his shin lightly. “You’re my brother, aren’t you?” The grin on his face and lightness in his eyes made her think it wasn’t too bad of a deal. 

[cemeteryspider]

Dearie~ Part 2

Alastor x Singer! Reader

Summary: Alastor waits for his chance to finally be reunited with you

Trigger Warnings: Violence, blood, exploitation, manipulation, revenge, and overall dark themes

Word Count: 1224

Previous | Next

Alastor woke up on the cold concrete with crimson blood spilled around him. A note lay in front of him but he remembered the conversation quite well.

See you never, Has-Been ~Vox

Swiftly, Alastor conjured inky black tentacles that snatched up and tore apart the note. He let the torn up pieces be carried by the wind into the sky. This would not be the end of the Radio Demon and his love. Nor would this be the last Vox saw of him.

With a sinister resolve, he cloaked himself in shadows, transporting to an old friend.

~~~

As the years rolled on, you found yourself relentlessly passed around by the Vees, each day ensnaring you in a new performance or appearance dictated by their capricious desires.

Under Vox's control, you were forced to guest-star in an array of macabre shows, becoming the centerpiece of his infernal entertainment empire. Many ads starred your shining face and within a year the once all-powerful overlord was replaced by an actor who lived life through others.

For Velvette you modeled at every show and ad campaign she wanted you in. It could range from the ugliest costumes to the skimpiest lingerie Hell has ever seen. You were ripped to shreds in every fashion talk show and magazine only to be built back up to be torn back down.

For Valentino, you took care of his highest profile clients. Avoiding videos or pictures was imperative, safeguarding your image as Hell's coveted poster girl in the twisted realm of infernal celebrity. After all, you were bad but not that bad.

The relentless passage of time bore down on you, the weight of each day settling not just on your shoulders but seeping into the marrow of your bones, a haunting exhaustion. You found yourself wishing for Alastor's return, but alas the cards were not stacked in your deck, only in the Vees.

You worked tirelessly and kept up with Hell's most influential people despite being on a short leash. You talked to many people, and you knew how to get what you wanted. You spoke to talk show hosts about current events and who was most powerful and how Hell changed with each passing day. Fellow models usually gossiped about frivolous things, but sometimes they would slip up useful information like when overlords fell and who died during the extermination. Some wealthy clients talked business when you were around and you became an encyclopedia of who was connected to whom.

Not to mention that you met very important demons through your jobs and gaining allies was becoming a more useful skill with each passing day.

~~~

After dealing with his employer Alastor was finally back in the Pride Ring. New and improved some may say. Screens, like omniscient sentinels, adorned almost every conceivable surface, projecting Vox's influence across the sprawling canvas of the Pride Ring. Clearly time had been good to him.

Alastor on the other hand had used his time to plan. Time for the revenge to simmer and brew into something truly utterly bitter. Seven long years of watching his Darling be used by the demon who managed to best him, allowed him to draw up his sinister plot.

Unbeknownst to Vox, a shadow was casting itself over his dominion. Nothing seemingly stood in Alastor's way, yet the impending storm was invisible, silently gathering its strength.

A sardonic smile tugged at Alastor's lips as he wove the threads of his revenge, exploiting the very vulnerability he had once sought to assist Vox in overcoming during their fleeting acquaintance.

He stood by a screen watching Lucifer's daughter pitch her hotel. Very unsuccessfully.

Amidst the towering screens broadcasting Vox's shows, Alastor sensed the malevolent pieces of his grand design falling into place, each detail a shard in the mosaic of his revenge. Every detail and nuance aligns to bring about the demise of Vox and the liberation of his Darling.

~~~

One part of being so successful is to be able to get things quite easily. Stealing wiring from vanities and circuit boards from old televisions.

Though it was supposed to be hush hush, many of the powerful people couldn't help teasing you that her boyfriend was back in town to get his ass beat again to be saved by another girl, Charlie Morningstar.

That's when you started to assemble a makeshift radio, a desperate attempt to breach the infernal walls that separated you from Alastor.

It took many weeks of stealing small items and talking to Vox about wiring to finally complete a (Semi) working radio.

With the makeshift radio finally assembled, you anxiously tuned through every channel, the urgency in your actions mirroring the desperation to reconnect with Alastor.

~~~

Alastor, with a determined focus, waded through the channels, guided by Angel Dust's cryptic hint that someone sought to reach him. Angel wasn't sure whom, due to the fact that the information had -passed through many to get to him. The static crackle of the radio filled the air.

Nothing was working until he heard the voice of his sweet angel.

"Fools rush in to where angels fear to tread and so I come to you my love my heart above my head"

Your voice was melodic and each note held perfectly in tune. You sang with gusto and a sadness that he knew came from your heart.

"If there's a chance for us then I don't care. Fools rush in where wise men never go, but wise men never fall in love so how are they to know"

His smile became more real. Realer than it had been in all of his seven year absence. He was closer than he was to getting you back yet still through the radio your voice felt so far away.

"When we met I felt my life begin again, so open up your heart and let this fool rush in"

As the song's final notes lingered, Alastor's voice, a lifeline through the radio, faded into a slight crackle. He felt the weight of anticipation, a heartbeat frozen in the ether between separation and reunion

"Dearie, how I have missed your gorgeous voice"

A sharp, audible gasp reverberated through the airwaves, a sound resonating with the weight of revelation. He heard your heels clicking over to meet him.

"Alastor, Darling?, Is that really you"

"Yes my love and do not worry, we will be together again soon"

"Alastor, I've missed you so. I feared the cruel silence would be our only communication, that I'd be forever denied the sight of you."

"Trust me, Dearie, you will be freed soon enough. Nothing can keep us apart"

A frantic tapping could be heard from your side of the radio.

"Alastor, I need to go, I love you Darling"

"I love you too mi amor"

With a slight crackle he stopped broadcasting his voice over the radio and he heard the radio on your end being shoved under something so it could not be seen.

~~~

"Sugar, who were you talking to"

Alastor seethed at Vox's voice. He would pay in due time.

"No one, just fine-tuning my chords for tomorrow's performance."

"Good good, sweetheart, keep those chords moving"

He chuckled but not a single peep came from you. Your conversation with Alastor caused a shift in you. Maybe soon Vox would fall. Maybe there was still hope yet.

~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

The song you were singing is called "Fools Rush in Where Angels Fear to Tread" by Ricky Nelson, it is a great song and it is worth a listen. Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and are enjoying this story so far.

[heraxic]

re8 as classical music

badly explained cause its 2am and i dont know musical terms.

Btw if anyone has any notes or other songs that would fit them id love to see it-

Ethan: Tchaikovsky - Marche Slave

Slow start, Ethan is unknowingly ensnared in a trap. As he realizes the danger Rose (and himself) are in the song becomes tragic and determined. Fastpaced strings, frantic beats —like prey escaping from predator— keeps escalating into something more and more insurmountable. A hopeful jingle is heard as Ethan finds out he can still save his daughter. A heroic theme plays as he overcomes the horrors despite it all (a sense of control over the situation is marked by highpitched anxious flutes superimposed by a deep stable horn). Then comes the first faceoff with Miranda who taunts him and Ethan’s tragic hero theme comes to a grinding halt as his heart gets pulled out of his chest. The drums pick up again and the little soldier is off to his final battle.

Mia: Claude Debussy - Clair De Lune

Sadly the real Mia doesn’t appear much. In the Winters home, Ethan writes that Mia doesn’t want to talk about what they went through in Louisiana, which leaves him with a lot of questions unanswered. In the flashback where she desperately tries reaching out saying ‘𝘺𝘰𝘶 matter’, she still can’t help keeping secrets- maybe out of fear that Ethan wouldn’t let it go (being extremely persistent) and they’d never return to normal. The song is heartbreaking and sad as she struggles coming to terms with the guilt and grief over what she’s done and what the one she loves went through because of it. On a last somber note, her child, who takes after her father both in looks and unresolved powers, is all she has left.

Rose: Saint-Saëns - Le Cygne

A little girl whos only ever known unconditional, all encompassing love. Even before her birth, it was known that her life would be full of uncertainty. Though stolen away for possessing powers she’s not even aware of yet, she continues to live and provide a beacon of hope for her family.

Chris: Richard Wagner - Ride of the Valkyries

Comes in the dead of night and rains hell on the Winters home. In his eyes, he’s doing the right thing, but has made himself the villain to the one he was trying to protect (victorious trumpets superimposed by high fearful strings). The transport gets intercepted by Miranda and the music falls. Once Chris finally explains himself to Ethan they’re allowed a brief bit of victory (steadier horn) as their combined efforts take down Miranda’s last line of defense (Heisenberg). In the end, Chris has to live with the victory of taking down the megamycete, the guilt and grief over Ethan’s death/sacrifice, and the troubling news from BSAA. A tainted victory.

Alcina: Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake

Appears first as a noble elegant socialite. She’s at the height of her power, owns a castle and three daughters and believes herself to be Miranda’s favorite. It’s business as usual, calm serene music. Suddenly an outsider has made his way into her home, killing her daughters one by one. She reaches out to Miranda, who only cares about the stupid ceremony, and realizes everything she knew was a lie. Anger and frustration builds. The music deepens, falls and rises again as she transforms, tries taking revenge on Ethan and fails, having lost everything in one evening.

Bela, Cassandra, Daniela: Rimsky Korsakov - Flight of the Bumblebee

Self explanatory. Hurried, manic and playful.

Donna: Tchaikovsky - Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy

Entrancing but with eerie insidious undertones. Fitting for the childlike dollmaker and her little porcelain friends. Ends with a fast and chilling theme for the twisted game of hide and seek

Moreau: Edvard Grieg - Hall of the Mountain King

Quiet, lumbering and slow. Ethan takes the Rose flask back easily; threatened with losing Mother Miranda it very quickly escalates as panic sets in and Moreau throws everything he has at him. The music swells and ends with a bang.

Karl: Aram Khachaturian - Masquerade Suite

A bold start. Right from the beginning he exudes arrogance, charisma and danger. He plays nice in front of Miranda with a waltz that picks up in intensity when putting Ethan through his first gauntlet. Then the tone gets deeper and quieter for a moment, as he plots in secret; it’s finally time to set his plan in action. It’s a race to the finish line as Ethan tears through the other lords, unknowingly playing right into Miranda’s plan. Realizing he could be a particularly useful asset/ally, Heisenberg puts him through the second gauntlet. The music is sadistically playful as he tests his will and endurance. Upon failing to recruit Ethan, the music picks up for the third gauntlet and ends with a bang, as Karl dies at the hands of Miranda.

Duke: Georges Bizet - Votre Toast

A friendly face unfitting in a place such as this. The upbeat and energetic theme sticks out like a sore thumb among the others. Whimsy and grandiosity acts as a brilliant facade for his enigmatic true nature. Though the jolly merchant schtick may be a lie, he always delivers on service.

Miranda: Sergei Prokofiev - Dance of the Knights

https://youtu.be/bBsKplb2E6Q?si=jnSpMO-bIhEcjJzb

Immediately imposes a sense of authority and dread. The dark theme plays over and over as she performs the same cruel experiments expecting different results, though it only succeeds in remowing her further from humanity. She imagines a world of pure bliss in acquiring her child, which at this point is as illusory as chasing the holy grail since she’s never satisfied. When she hears of Rose she schemes her way into the Winters home, elated to find the perfect vessel after a century of searching. She steals the child away, leaving behind a trail of destruction that finally catches up to her.

[vxxxb]

DEPRIVE ME [2] - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

[Synopsis] - After an incident that jeopardizes your position at HQ, Miguel O'Hara becomes a constant reminder of the high expectations and zero tolerance for mistakes within his ranks. Everything takes an unexpected turn when Miguel sees the potential in your abilities and decides to enlist your help for a more personal endeavor. [Notes] - Slow burn, strained relationship in the beginning, slight angst, eventual fluff. Reader is ethnically Hispanic, with race not specified. Part One | Part Three | 2.8k words

Wrong. 

You were incredibly wrong. 

Leaping off the platform, you swiftly evade the heavy metal desk Miguel throws at you, instinctively shooting a web to use the object as a makeshift barrier while catching your breath.

"Lyla!" You call out, your spider senses on high alert. "This is not what was mentioned last night!"

Immediately the bubbly AI appears by your side, a sheepish smile on her face. "I was instructed not to reveal too much," she offers, somewhat apologetic -- Not.

Frustration surges through you as you struggle to comprehend the situation -- Why must everything be difficult with him? 

Without warning, you feel yourself lifted from the ground. No hesitation, you kick Miguel in the stomach, sending the desk crashing into him.

"Can't we just talk?" You urge, hands on your hips. "The way I was led to believe," you add, bitterness seeping into your voice.

A dry laugh escapes Miguel's lips, body preparing for his next attack. "Oh, yeah, sure, let's talk," he mocks, lunging at you, claws aiming at your upper body. 

With an apathetic gaze, he surveys your trapped form, chest rising and falling from the altercation. In an instant, he ensnares you within a forcefield, the very ones used to sustain anomalies.

"You must be joking," You shake your head in disbelief, agitation causing you to pace back and forth. "Can you ever approach things rationally without letting your anger consume you?" You glare, frustration evident.

Miguel's gaze sharpens as he locks eyes with you. He strides over to retrieve the cuffs he had initially asked you to wear -- the very ones you had profoundly refused and had tossed aside without thinking; Not the best decision you could have made, obviously.

"If you wanted me rational, you shouldn’t have thrown that little tantrum you did," He turns to you, arms crossed.

You narrow your brows; Tantrum? Tantrum. Not wanting to be treated like a criminal was now considered a tantrum?

"If you had you just listened-"

You scoff, turning your back to him and lowering yourself to the ground; You were done listening. 

With a mere concentration, you form a barrier, gradually filtering Miguel's voice from reaching you; External sounds soon become muffled, only a faint ringing penetrating your ears. Turning your attention inward, you firmly plant your palms on the ground, focusing on the subtle vibrations that Miguel's voice carries.

As the vibrations intensify, you brace yourself for what comes next. Before you know it, Miguel lifts you off the ground, fangs bared inches from your face. You maintain a neutral expression despite the harsh grip on your forearm.

Miguel studies your reaction, searching for any sign of submission. Frustrated, he releases his grip and steps back, pinching his nose as if trying to calm himself. Muttering something under his breath, he looks at you with outstretched hands -- ‘Let’s talk’.

Though reluctant, you nod, allowing sound to seep in again. "I'm listening," you respond, your tone grim.

Exasperated, Miguel moves to the computer system, multiple images displaying on the holographic screen. You instantly recognize the people -- all fifteen of them -- and a sense of defeat washes over you.

"I thought we had moved past this," You whisper, realizing the gravity of what he was showing you.

Miguel's gaze remains fixed on the screen as he responds, "We were never past this. This is why you're here." He points to an additional image, "Two weeks ago, unusual glitching was detected in Earth-12131."

You shake your head. "That's not possible. You said nothing was disrupted."

"Nothing was disrupted, and now nothing is. I had Peter B take care of it," He mutters, pushing the screens aside.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because your mistake," Miguel's voice raises, "could have led to the destruction of an entire universe. And your recent errors are not making it any better." He approaches you, hands extending expectantly. "I want your watch," he demands.

What.

Your body freezes. "What? No," you protest, taking a step back.

"Don't make this any more difficult than it has to be. After today, your services are no longer needed here." 

Suffocated. You feel suffocated as Miguel draws near you, his eyes narrowed with a single objective. Your hands twitch, the rhythmic pounding of your heart echoing loudly in your ears -- Why? Just why? You were beginning to feel disoriented, your very name reduced to mere echoes. Swiftly, you sidestep, concealing your right hand behind your back.

"That's not fair," You reason. "You know what happened. Hell, you saw what happened!" You manage to evade his grasp once again. "And as for my recent errors, we both know who's causing them," You huff out. 

Miguel sighs, hands clenching at his sides, attempting to repress any rising irritation. "Could you please just stay still?" He warns.

"Por dios, O'Hara!" You evade him once more. "How can you possibly be such a hypocrite when you're the one who actually caused the annihilation of an entire universe?"

Silence.

Profound silence falls between the two of you, you just registering the weight of the words that had left you. You glance up to meet Miguel's intense stare, red eyes piercing into you. 

"Verga," You rush out before being knocked to the ground. You choke out a gasp, breath increasingly strained as Miguel's grip tightens around your throat. What was wrong with you? Did you seriously want to die? 

"Try to calm down," You struggle to word out, desperately attempting to free yourself.

"Don't tell me what I have to do," He snarls beside your ear, hands squeezing tighter.

Clawing at his hands, you take notice of the black spots that cloud your vision; Just what were you doing? You could easily overthrow Miguel and give yourself a chance to escape, yet you were surrendering instead. Succumbing to a guilt you knew you had no control over. God, this was all tiring. Like a revelation, you allow your body to relax, eyes gaining a clear focus on your next move. 

"Enough." Your hand swiftly reaches behind Miguel's neck, fingers grasping firmly. "If you're going to insist on burdening me with guilt for the rest of my time here, then maybe you should experience the guilt I've been carrying."

Soon, Miguel's hold on you weakens, his body staggering and collapsing to the ground. A ripple of emotions engulfs him -- Fear, pain, and confusion -- They all flood his mind, mirroring the overwhelming tragedies felt by those who had died. The same emotions you had experienced when you regretfully took their lives. The same emotions you can never forget. But you don't stop there; you make him see. You make him see all the nightmares and illusions that plagued their minds, exposing him to the relentless darkness that claimed them. 

You stagger forward, blood trickling from your nose as the pressure of your abilities takes a toll on your body. "Believe me when I say I don't need you reminding me of what I did," You take a deep breath, voice filled with resignation. "Just as you don't need people reminding you of what you did."

With a hint of remorse, you make him see her. Make him hear her. Feel her. 

"Papá?" Gabriela's small voice echoes in his head.

Mind unable to process what was happening, Miguel stills. His previously crouched body now cradling his daughter's non-existent one, hand caressing her cheek as if she were truly there.

"Papá, I'm scared," His little girl whimpers, her non-existing hand clutching onto his. 

Miguel gazes downward, eyes fixated on his daughter's empty embrace. The weight of her presence so tangible to him but invisible to everyone else. It all becomes unbearable. The sound of your labored breaths is what jolts him back to reality. His body slumps with heavy sorrow, face contorting with anguish and grief.

"Just... stop," He whispers, voice vulnerable, on the verge of breaking.

Overwhelmed, you collapse to the ground. Your vision blurs and your senses distort while becoming hazy. It's difficult for you to regain control, especially as you struggle to restore balance to your overtaxed senses.

"I never wanted to do that," You mutter, head remaining low. "But I'm done. If you want me gone, I'll leave by tomorrow." With unsteady steps, you stand up. 

Quietly, you turn to leave, casting one final glance at headquarters' formidable leader. 

Miguel remains on his knees, gaze lost in contemplation. Just utterly broken. 

Without another word, you're gone.

------

"So... are you planning to remain silent?"

Gwen hangs upside down, a single brow raised inquisitively.

"Not entirely," You reply as you walk around her. "And could you please get down from there? It’s making me dizzy," You groan, rubbing your forehead.

Your mind was still reeling from the day's earlier events, the pressure of it all causing a soft, persistent ache in your head; You felt like utter trash. Just like that, your life had managed to be disrupted. As you glanced around, you couldn’t help the small smile that formed -- This was home, your home -- and now it was slipping away from you; A dry laugh escaped your lips.

"Your neck’s bruising." 

"Huh?"

Gwen lands beside you, her fingers lightly brushing over your injuries. Despite your best efforts, you can't help but flinch at her touch, your face contorting with discomfort as she examines the wounds. You shoot the teenager a slightly irritated glance, hands pushing hers away and adjusting your suit to conceal any visible bruises. Well, at least the ones on your body; the state of your face was still up for debate.

"And what villain of the week did those?" She asks, now signaling at your dry bloodstained nose.

You ignore her, opting to wave at the spider people who greet you, your smile faltering as you enter your room. Crashing onto the sofa, you shield your face with your arm -- Finally, some quiet. 

"Well?"

You groan, arm lifting to glance at the smirking teenager. "Five seconds, Gwen. That's all I ask," You state tiredly, closing your eyes once more.

Never did you expect your time in the Spiderverse-Society to end so abruptly; It's been what, about six months, and now everything is-

"Times up!" Gwen calls out, taking a seat across from you.

This time, you can't help but glare at her, forcing yourself to sit up. "You know Gwendolyn, you can be quite the little pest sometimes." You mutter, words lacking any malice.

"I've been told worse," She shrugs off before looking at you expectantly. 

You grumble softly, rolling your eyes as you indulge her. "If you must know, nosy," You side-eye her, "Our beloved boss is the culprit for all this."

Gwen studies your face. "Miguel did that?" She questions, astonished. 

"Yep," You confirm with a nod. "O'Hara did that and more."

"What do you mean?

"I mean," You shrug, attempting to appear unfazed, "Guess who's been kicked out of the spider society," You sing-song, trying to lighten the mood. 

Gwen's frown deepens, her once content attitude now simmering. Startled, you watch as she stands up, eyes following her as she heads toward the door. Reacting quickly, you shoot out a web, giving her a stern warning look. With a subtle tug on her hand, you silently urge her to sit.

"And what do you think you're about to do?" You ask with a bored expression.

She scoffs. "Miguel can't just kick you out-".

"Yes, he can."

"But not without a proper-"

"Reason? Yeah, I agree with you on that."

"Would you stop-"

"Interrupting you?" 

"Y/N!" 

You sigh, leaning your head back before addressing her seriously. "Just let it go, Gwen."

Observing the torn look on her face and the hesitant movement of her feet, a soft laugh escapes you -- She reminded you so much of her. The same persistence and equally annoying smartness that you once bonded over. Had things turned out differently, she would have turned seventeen this year -- your Gwen, that is. It never ceased to amaze you how every Spider's canon intertwined in one way or another. Pushing aside the waves of nostalgia, you refocus your thoughts. 

"I'm slowly coming to terms with it," You try to reassure her, "I just want to be alone."

Gwen hesitates, mouth opening as if to say something, before nodding. You watch her leave, exhaling a breath as the door closes behind her. Like fragile glass, the facade you had been putting up shatters, and the tears that stung your eyes finally fall.

To feel or not to feel; that was the ultimate question.

You lay back once more on the comfort of your sofa -- Pain somehow soothed you better. 

------

Body jolting, an involuntary gasp escapes you. You wince as the abrupt noise from your mouth sends a sharp ache down your throat. Shaking your head to clear the drowsiness, you sit up, feeling your bones crack as you carefully stretch your stiff muscles.

What time was it?

It was dark, and as you glance outside your window, the sight of an empty headquarters suggested that most of the spider people had returned to their respective universe. The stillness of the place contrasts with the earlier bustling morning, and you can't help but feel a sense of solitude in the quiet atmosphere. 

"You overslept!" A chirpy voice pops up in front of you.

You cross your arms, eyeing the flashy AI. "Not in the mood, Lyla."  

Making your way toward the bedroom, you retrieve a duffle bag, somberly packing all your items away. Clothing, gadgets, even the occasional assignments, you ensure nothing is left behind. While doing so, you can't help but notice the glitching A.I. take seat mid-air.

"You can't stay mad at me," She states. 

Exhaling with frustration, you release the clothing you had been clutching in your hand "Sure, I can," You retort sharply. "I can choose to stay mad at you, just like you chose to keep me in the dark about the purpose of the meeting."

Her head tilted. "I was simply following orders."

"And when have you ever refrained from defying those orders?" You counter, irritation seeping through. 

"Look,” Lyla persisted. "I just came to give you a heads up that Miguel is on his way to see you."

"He's what?" You see her disappear. "Lyla!" You shout in frustration -- Must she always do that?

Hastily you shove whatever else you can into your bag before rushing to the door. As the automatic doors open, you come to an abrupt halt.

"Leaving already?" 

Instinctively, you step back, Miguel practically barging into your room. It seemed nothing was going your way today, not even your promised departure. 

"Just as you requested," You react, a forced smile on your face. 

His gaze subtly fixates on the duffle bag clutched in your hands. "I thought you said tomorrow," He remarks, sauntering further in as the doors behind him close.

You click your tongue, annoyance brimming within by his probing and sudden intrusion. "You seriously have some nerve coming here and-"

"You're reinstated." He interjects.

"Come again?"

Grumbling under his breath, he places his hands on his hips and clarifies, "I said, you're reinstated."

You stand there, mind processing his words before directing a glare toward him. "Is this some kind of joke to you?" You drop your bag in disbelief. "You practically threaten my life in the morning, and now you barge in here without even offering an apology and expect everything to be resolved with a simple phrase."

Not giving him a chance to respond, you swiftly snatch your bag and move to leave, or at least attempt to. To your surprise, and his own, Miguel latches onto your wrist. With a wary gaze, you pull your hand free from his grip. As he remains silent, you scoff, unsure what to make of the situation.

"No lo puedo creer, a pesar de joder mi paciencia tu-"

"Dios, cállate,” He snaps. “This is what started things in the morning-"

"Right, so it’s my fault now."

"Y/N."

"O’Hara," You defy, refusing to call him by his first name.

In the dimly lit room, the both of you huff in exasperation, the tense atmosphere enveloping you. A weariness settles within, and the decision to abandon the situation seems ever more tempting. Gosh, he was frustrating.

Unexpectedly, he positions himself in front of you, his imposing height putting you at a disadvantage. Intense gaze fixed upon you, he lowers his voice, his words resolute and unmistakable. "As I was saying," he begins, tone unwavering. "You're reinstated." 

With a dismissive gesture, he brushes his shoulder against yours as he exits. "Tomorrow you work with me." 

In a moment of disbelief, you find yourself pinching your arm. The sharp pain that shoots up serves as a stark reminder that you were not imagining things. Muttering a curse under your breath, you drop your bag to the side. 

Fuck him, you thought. Whatever he had planned for tomorrow, you would make sure not to break this time. 

Part One | Part Three |

[A/N] - It's done! I hope this doesn't disappoint and I'm sooo sorry for the delay. Also, I want to say thx for the support in the first part! It's been a while since I've focused on something other than STEM (engineering student here lol), so it really meant a lot. Excuse any typos, I'm sure I'll catch them later.

Anyways, feel free to comment, like, and repost <3

[Translations]

For the love of god

Fuck

I can't believe it, despite testing my patience you

God, shut up

And as some of you requested:

@digipaw2-0 @alexisabirdie @keenzinemugstudent @dirtydiavolo @saturnknows

[lizhly-writes]

hmm. so i had... another svsss idea.

A-Niang was the best mother Luo Binghe had ever had, which was a pretty weird feeling to have, considering he was 50% sure he'd only had the one mother.

That was a weird feeling, too! Why was he only 50% sure? From the beginning of his life to his present feelings, wasn't it clear there was only one woman taking care of him? Didn't he only have the one mother to honor?

Okay, two, if you considered the one that had dumped him in the river and let A-Niang find him, but considering that one had dumped him in the river --

"That's really mean!" Luo Binghe said, when A-Niang had told him. "What if I drowned? Babies can't swim! What if I died??"

"But you didn't," A-Niang said gently. "The river brought you to me, didn't it, Bing-bing?"

"Well, yeah..."

But his birth mother couldn't have known that. Who would put a baby adrift in an icy river in winter and think that it would survive?

But his birth mother didn't have a choice. She would have kept him if she could, but she'd been dying, so she'd had to hope for the best --

Why did he think that? This wasn't only something that he wanted to believe -- though it would be nice to believe that his mother didn't leave him to die!!! -- it was something he knew. Faith and belief were nice things, but it wasn't the same thing as knowledge. This, he knew, with an off-hand certainty, the same way anyone would know that the midday sky was blue.

The sky was blue. His birth mother wanted to save his life. He had more than two mothers.

"My stepmom," he'd say, thinking that A-Niang cooked better than -- who? "My mom," he'd say, thinking that A-Niang was so much prouder of him than --

Than...?

When he wasn't paying attention, he'd have stray thoughts that didn't make sense. It was a pain getting water from the river and heating it up, what he wouldn't give for a sink and a stovetop. Who wanted to shit outside in the bushes, wouldn't it be nice to have a working bathroom? Ah, he was so bored, he even missed writing, even if writing twenty million words had killed him --

It was like this. Drawing shapes in the dirt with sticks, thinking that they didn't look right, smoothing it over and trying it again until he ended up with something that he knew with certainty was his name.

Luo Binghe.

Except he didn't know how to write? Except that wasn't his name? Of course it wasn't his name, Luo Binghe was his OP protagonist son who he'd proudly written to ensnare the audience of Qidian so he could have all the instant ramen he could ever want, even if his dad and his mom stopped remembering he existed, and. And --

"Bing-bing, what's wrong?" A-Niang said, when she found him crying in the dirt. He hadn't even realized he was crying -- hadn't realized it until she smoothed her hand over his shoulder and brought everything back into focus.

He couldn't stop crying, fat tears dripping to the ground unceasingly. His throat was dry, too tight to speak what he'd really wanted to say --

There's something wrong with me, isn't there?

[lunarw0rks]

Through The Ashes | Chapter Five

Summary: You've been given an offer to join the 141 Task Force. Upon taking it, you find yourself ensnared with the mysterious masked man who won't take his eyes off you.

Warning(s): my attempt at slow-burn, canon-typical violence, mild language, mentions of violence, injuries, blood, hurt/comfort kinda??

A/N: I've been using dialogue from the campaign for these chapters, so hopefully it translates well enough. Thank you for all the support :) | Word Count: 3.5k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter // requests | ao3 | playlist

Kiss Of Judas

Valeria remained completely silent during the entire helicopter ride, refusing to look anyone around her in the eyes. She never expected to be caught, at least not by foreign forces. She was a complicated woman in your eyes, always nearly impossible to read.

You still felt jumpy and wired from the whole operation as the adrenaline began to dwindle, which was not helping your impatience. Valeria was the reason for your condition, but also the reason you didn’t get the life squeezed out of you. And yet, here she was, not giving your Task Force any reach on where to find the missiles.

You opened the door with your keycard and stepped inside, seeing her sitting in the middle of the room—surrounded by your team and the allies.

Her eyes flicked up at you when she heard the motion, mirroring the look she had in her eyes when you were the one in the interrogation chair. You ran your tongue over the cut on your lip, keeping a blank expression.

“Las Almas needs me,” she purrs, giving Alejandro and you a glance. She was searching for any sign of emotion in your eyes as if testing you. You weren’t going to give it to her, or anyone else in this room who tried the same.

Alejandro bends down closer to her, hovering his face in front of hers. “Las Almas needs soldiers, not sicarios… And you,” he begins, looking back at you before he speaks, as if referencing what she let happen to you. “You disgrace the Army, Valeria.”

She wasn’t like Hassan.

He was too emotional when backed into a corner—he was cruel. She always kept a cool attitude about her, always steps ahead of her enemies. And she harbored one skill you hadn’t mastered yet—keeping your enemies close.

Ghost remains posed against the wall, only keeping his eyes trained on the target. “You’re a narco harboring a terrorist.”

Valeria maintains a grimace, carelessly leaning against the back of her chair. “Terrorism is good for business, it’s insurance.”

“Innocent civilians turned to ash, all to protect your drug game?” You finally spoke up, crossing your arms to your chest. When law enforcement is more focused on maimed civilians, they turn a blind eye to the war on drugs.

She ignores what you’re implying, too intelligent to admit that out loud. “To find your terrorist and your missiles, you need me.” Valeria tilts her head, observing the tightness you were carrying in your posture.

Graves approaches her from behind, gripping one of her shoulders with a gloved hand. “I want the missiles, I want the targets, and I want Hassan. You’ve got ten seconds or I’m gonna show you the difference between the military and me.” For once, his combativeness might get you the answers you needed.

To get to Valeria, you needed to mirror her. Ladylike interrogation was not the way she did things, so the opposite was all she knew.

“I can tell you where to find the missiles. When you return, I’ll tell you where Hassan is.” She never meets Graves’ eyes. “In exchange, you will let me go. And get the fuck out of Las Almas.”

“Deal.” Graves loosens his grip and nods his head to the rest of you.

Making a deal with her was not in the team’s best interest, not in the slightest.

Graves only saw the big picture ahead of him, and he didn’t pay any mind to the people he would trample to get to that goal.

—

The intel Valeria grave led your team to an oil rig miles out on the Gulf Of Mexico. Considering how horribly wrong your last mission involving water went, you were hesitant to see the team going along with it, even if it did lead to the missiles.

How could you be sure Valeria was being honest? She had no reason to. She had the entirety of your unit wrapped around her fingers, and that’s exactly how she wanted it.

Perhaps you were lucky you nearly died the previous night because you were going to sit the mission out.

You’re sat on your bunk, cleaning your pistol with a rag, being the only person left in the quarters. Your eyes flick up toward Ghost as he approaches. Usually you would ignore him, or have some snarky remark, but there were bigger problems everyone was facing.

“Do you think the missiles will be where she said they would?” You questioned, setting the rag on the mattress beside you.

“She knows if she gives us this, we’ll have no choice but to set her free.” He keeps his eyes on the ground, still refusing to look you in the eyes. “We’ve been through situations like this before. Terrorists are all the same—only out for themselves.”

You nodded and dropped down from the top bunk to face him. He turned around hesitantly, his face contorting in confusion.

You looked around the room, making sure it was clear before you spoke. “What about Graves? Is he only out for himself?” You muttered, leaning close to him.

“He’s an ally of ours, until we know otherwise, you need to act like it, Sergeant.” He grumbled while reaching for his pack. The truth was, Ghost didn’t trust any of them either. The way Graves forced you into the operation yesterday made him seethe.

Ghost blinked away the emotions that filled him. The flashbacks he had, hearing you struggle for yourself in his ear, the gunshot that followed with silence—all while all he could do was stay put on the hillside.

He grabbed his bag and looped it around his shoulder. “Just say put here, and don’t make any more enemies while you’re at it. Think you can handle that?” He added, looking down at you as if you were dirt on his shoes.

You knew you were right. The most spiteful people have their weaknesses, and Graves had one for sure. Even if no one believed you now, they would soon. You just hoped no one had to die for it to become clear.

—

You’re awoken by what sounds like a disturbance outside, and the voices are familiar. The team must be back from disarming the missiles. You look at the clock, seeing it’s early in the morning.

You sit up straight and gather your composure, curious about what’s going on. Whatever it was didn’t sound good at all.

“This is my base.” You press your ear to the wall, hearing Alejandro’s voice first.

“It’s not a base. This is a sizable covert facility, and I admire it.” Graves speaks next. “So, I’m taking it.”

You feel like your jaw dropped to the floor. You were right all along, and things were about to go very bad very fast. You climb off your bunk and put on your backpack, grabbing all of your gear. 

“Nobody needs to get hurt here.”

“Are you threatening us?” Ghost asks. You can practically feel the tension building, even if all you’re hearing is bits and pieces.

You peer out the window, seeing them standing at the gate. Alejandro is inches from Graves’ face; Soap is in the middle of it; and Ghost preemptively has a hand on his knife, searching for any excuse to use it.

Where are the rest of Los Vaqueros? The realization came that you hadn’t seen any of them since the team left.

A burst of gunfire filled your ears, making you jump. You didn’t have time to sit around and watch, and you weren’t going to be the next person sent home in a box. You grab your pistol and make sure it’s loaded and ready.

The compound will be swarmed with Shadows any minute now—and there was no time to regroup with your team.

You hear Graves’ voice again, but this time through a nearby radio, followed by the stomping of boots. “2-0, cordon the compound. If you find Ghost and Soap, keep them contained. Find the other one, she won't get far.”

You kneel behind the large structural pillar, watching as one of the Shadows patrols the sleeping quarters. He turns his back to respond, “Sleeping quarters are clear, Sir. No sign of her.” You crept behind him, jamming your knife into his jugular.

He goes down quietly, only suffering for a matter of seconds. The Shadow didn’t deserve your brutality. He couldn’t have known what hand Graves was going to play up until now. Still, it was better for them to be dead than you. And there was no time for a moral dilemma.

You jog to the armory, finding it cleared out. Graves was thinking way ahead of just taking the building, he was taking the inventory too, leaving your team with nothing. “Goddammit,” you muttered to yourself, before dashing back to the Shadow’s body. You winced as you ripped the rifle from the corpse’s stiff fingers.

You need to keep moving.

You advance to the upper level, wagering that it would be less noticeable to take one of the side exits up top. You do just that, finding a window in one of the offices to squeeze yourself through. Your feet prowl down the metal steps, keeping your eyes peeled for any hostiles. Lucky for you, the backend of the base isn’t well protected.

Your boots crunch the gravel below you, even when acting at your stealthiest. You reach one of the tall chainlinks bordering the perimeter, and loop one foot through it, taking each ascendant one foot at a time.

You reach the top, using the fabric of your shirt to protect your hands from the barbed wire. You carefully swing your leg over, and follow with the other, now descending down the other side. You drop down once the distance is close enough, taking only a second to catch your breath.

The easy part's over—now you needed to find an area that wasn’t crawling with Shadows on the lookout for your face.

The previous night's injuries didn’t make the ordeal any easier. You found yourself having to rest quicker than usual, almost letting out pained grunts when you extended your limbs. You needed to push through it, just like you did when you survived the tunnels.

You removed one of the backpack straps off your shoulders, leaving it to rest on one side, while the weapon rested on the other. You need to get out of here before another Shadow patrol rotates your way again.

The only sound in the distance was chirping insects, and faint traffic pollution from the city and the base behind you. Things were too quiet.

“Commander, possible sighting by the North Tower, engaging now.” You heard faintly, making your eyes bulge. Your feet carried you before your mind could decide to, making some distance between yourself and the noise.

You felt the rush of the bullets whizzing around you as you bolted until eventually you were knocked down by a lucky one. Your body tumbled down, rolling into one of the ditches. You felt a fiery sting on the fatty part of your hip, flinching as you pulled down the part of your waistband atop the wound. It was a deep slice, bloody and jagged torn skin.

Mercifully, the backpack slowed down the force of the bullet when it zipped through. It grazed your skin instead of being buried inside it.

“Approaching to confirm the hit, Sir.” The voice from before carries, as it echoes through the vastness of the humid air.

“Don’t confirm it—Finish it.” Graves chirps through, sending a rush through your veins. Once the Shadow finds you, it wouldn’t be a graze. If there was any chance of making it out of here, you needed to either choose fight or flight.

You muffled the sounds of agony escaping through your lips, biting into them instead. You scrambled to your feet, reaching for your pistol.

The soldier’s radio static grew louder as he examined the ditch, expecting you to still be laying there. In reality, you were behind one of the concrete dividers lining the path. Before he noticed you, you fired off one shot, dropping the Shadow. You followed the lights of the city in the distance, getting yourself as far away from where you fired as possible.

When you made it several yards away from the compound, finding yourself on a sidestreet, you finally utilized the radio clipped to your collar.

You turned the knob, finding the correct channel so it would go straight to anyone in 141 and not the Shadows. “This is 7-1, how copy? Anyone?” You grew frustrated at the lack of answer. “I repeat, this is 7-1. Anyone copy?”

The voice glitched at first, before it finally came through. He says your name, his tone filled with defeat and worry.

“How copy, Sergeant? You injured?” The reception finally cleared, allowing you to hear it clearly.

You sighed and cleared your throat. “I’m hit, but solid. I got a dozen Shadows chasing my tail. What the hell happened?”

Ghost doesn’t answer your question, but deflects. You sense it has to do with what he spat your way before they left. He knew you were right about Graves, and he wasn’t, and he couldn’t handle admitting that right now.

“There’s a church near the plaza. I’m heading there now. Any sign of Johnny?”

“No. You’re the first I’ve come in contact with. Was he hit? I heard shots before I got out of there.” You continue down the backroad, approaching the main district of Las Almas.

“Affirmative. Keep your eyes peeled for him. And watch your back, Sergeant.” The line cuts after he finishes his sentence, leaving you to stay alive on your own. Soap must be somewhere in the shops in the same prickly situation you are.

There was no time to search for Soap, especially if he’s left a trail of Shadow bodies through the city. You’re of no use out here when you’re bleeding all over yourself.

You needed to find Ghost.

—

Each time a gun fired in the distance, you had to double check you weren’t hit again, even though it felt foolish.

You finally reached the outskirts of the plaza, where the Church was sitting on the top of a hill. It looked almost ancient, tilting to one side. You hovered your finger over the pistol trigger as you crept to the door. You pushed it open, hearing it creak loudly as you did so. There was no light inside, except for where the night sky peaked through the holes in the walls, and one large gap in the roof.

Finally, you spotted his figure near the altar, knelt beside it. You limped up to it, meeting his eyes, which were all you could see given the dark clothing he was wearing.

You slowly dropped to your knees next to him, placing your pistol in the holster. “No sign of Soap while I was out there. Goddamn city is infested with Shadows.”

He nodded at your update, grabbing one of the stray candles off the altar. He fishes out his lighter and puts it to the wick, illuminating your battered appearance, while allowing you to view him.

You stare at him blankly for a few seconds, studying him as he takes the backpack off your shoulders, and begins to dig through it.

“I didn’t have time to pack supplies. There’s nothing whole in there.” You comment, watching as his brow tightens in concentration.

He still hasn’t uttered a word this entire time, simply returning deep glances through the warm candle fire. You flinch when he reaches toward you, but his hands are gentle and slow. He pulls up the fabric of your shirt only slightly, and pulls down the side of your waistband now turned a deep maroon.

You keep still as he examines the graze. He grips the sleeve of his jacket, and rips off a square of fabric with ease, beginning to pack the wound. You snuff out your struggles when he touches the tender parts, clenching your jaw instead.

For the first time, it wasn’t him saving you because he had to; he was because wanted to. He was showing an inkling of the tenderness buried deep within him.

He finished packing the wound with the tear of fabric, before carefully covering your bare hip with your waistband again.

You rise to your feet again, making sure not to put pressure on that side of you. You’re expecting hours of silence between you and him—hours of agonizing silence.

He finally speaks once his back is turned to you, as if he can’t look you in the eye. “You were right about Graves.” He sounded apologetic, like if he had just believed you before, none of this would’ve happened to you.

You tilted your head delicately, stepping closer to him. “Ghost… This isn’t on you. You couldn’t have known Graves would flip.”

He was looking down at the wood floor below him in disappointment, looking as if he wanted to curse himself. You reached out your hand, placing your fingertips on his forearm.

“Ghost,” you whispered. He shook his head and gathered himself before facing you, flinching away from your hand. His eyes had gone glossy, filled with angst.

“If this is about what I said, Ghost—It’s not a concern of mine anymore… We clearly have bigger problems.” You finished your sentence with a light smile, trying your best to lighten the mood. Your attempt to add comedy did nothing to ease him tearing himself apart inside.

“Did you hear me, Simon?” The first time you’ve said his name. He casted a look you’d never seen before. Not hardness, not anger, just torment.

“People like me don’t belong with people like you, Sergeant.” His exterior ran cold again, and he straightened his posture. “Everything that we did, everything you went through because of it, that was all me. Got it?”

You were stunned, completely stunned. You spent so long being angry at him, that you were blind to the truth of it. It wasn’t arrogance he used as a shield, it was his scars.

“Simon-” You repeat, feeling like you have been sucker-punched in the gut.

“Don’t say my name like it means something to you. None of it meant anything to me.” He snaps, stepping closer to you, using his frame to tower over you. The vulnerability he showed only last seconds before it quickly became a thorn in your side.

He lowered his voice to give his last blow. “I break everything I touch… I’ll break your heart, Love.”

You felt tears sting at the corner of your eyes. You tried to be stronger than this, but paired with everything you’d been through to get you to this spot, it was too much.

You quickly wiped them away and ripped your backpack from his grasp, slinging it back on your shoulder. You hurried toward the church doors, painting your face void of the emotions you were feeling.

Once you were outside, you radioed the frequency again. “Soap, how copy?”

He replied almost instantly. “Copy. I’m by the shopping district.”

Instead of following behind Ghost like usual, you led him. You ducked through alleyways, avoiding the Shadows rather than taking them out. There were still too many left to count. When you reached the shopping district, you and Ghost split off to take out each hostile one by one. With each kill, you followed the bloody trail that would lead you to Soap.

When you laid eyes on him, you let out a breath of relief. He was only hit on his arm, and it went through.

“Forgive me, Lass.” He was slumped against a brick wall, holding his injury. “But you look horrible.” At least you knew there wasn’t anything seriously wrong with him now. Focusing on him made you forget about your troubles with Ghost, even for just a minute.

“Well, it’s clear there’s no brain damage.” You said backhandedly, reaching out your hand to him.

You helped him to his feet and found an empty vehicle that was left behind, allowing him to climb inside. Ghost took the driver’s seat, you in the passenger seat. You kept your eyes trained on the passing views as Ghost sped out of the city, showing no signs of slowing down for anything.

Las Almas was soon to be a distant memory—a memory that lingered within you nonetheless.

—

You craned your neck up at the aquamarine sky, your attention locked to it. You had to find the beauty of this place somewhere, even if the experience was only filled with violence and heartache.

The rest of your team was finishing up business with Valeria. You decided to sit it out. The closer you stood to the plane, the faster you would be climbing inside of it when they finished their business here.

Price and the rest of the Task Force approached the cargo plane you were standing by, making you break your gaze with the sky.

“Good work here, Private.” He patted your back and then returned his hands to the collar of his tactical vest.

“It’s not over yet. Valeria was privy to a third missile, somewhere in Chicago. Might be another long flight.” You acknowledged the update, following him onto the plane. It never truly ends, does it?

There are only moves and countermoves until there’s no one left standing to shoot at or bomb.

TAGLIST: @neoarchipelago @ghostlythots @gothgirl6-6-6 @cloudyyjanee @ladyelissarose @almightywdm @glitterypirateduck

[cyn-write]

The Little Cecelia - Chapter 1: Friends

Summary - Every 100 years, the spirit of the Great Seven and their Rival return. Sometimes, they attempt to right the wrongs of the past, get revenge, or relive the same story, but it all is the same - only one spirit gets their Happily Ever After. Azul has always had a fascination with the human world, which only intensified once he met a human girl, Grace Trien. His desires to become a Great Mage of both Land and Sea and to explore the human world and all its wonders with the Tweels and Grace by his side, but Prince Rielle is willing to do what ever it takes to stop the little Cecelia from getting his Happy Ending.

Masterlist - Next

Pairing - Azul Ashengrotto x F!Oc (Grace Trein)

Tags/Warnings - Friends to Lovers; Bullying; Grace is Trein's Daughter; Angst -> Fluff; Self-Deperication

Notes - I have been working on this for a very long time, and I hope you enjoy it! Grace Trein is based off my Oc Grace Wilde so if you want to learn more about her click the link, but you can replace her name when reading if you want to read it as Yuu or another name. This is only the first chapter of 11, so if you enjoy this and want to be tagged or have questions, please let me know! This is also on Ao3 if you want to follow it over there. Comments, likes, and Reblogs are appreciated!

Without Further Ado: Once Upon a Time.....

Every Merchild was told from a young age how dangerous the humans were. Parents, Teachers, Elders all told tales of the vicious humans who slaughtered merfolk by the dozens and the clever traps they would use to ensnare merfolk for prizes. Landfolk were all described as hideous creatures fascinated with lifeless contraptions. They were monsters… or so the stories said.

Despite the fear, some dared to have a fascination with the beings above. Azul has always had a fascination with the landfolk and their contraptions but stayed away from the shore out of fear. But sometimes, greater forces led people to face their fears. Forces named Rielle.

Azul was minding his own business, studying a new trinket he found that morning while the twins were off hunting for lunch. It was a triangle with a rounded bottom and a cone on the top that made things look closer when peered though. It had an engraving on the side of an odd creature with four legs and fins sprouting from its back. As he looked through the cone at some fish, he failed to notice the Merprince and his gang readying their rocks.

“HEY OCTOTWERP! CATCH!” Called the red-haired prince as he signaled the attack. Azul jumped from his spot and felt the first of the rocks hit is tentacles. He accidentally inked as he swam away as fast as his tentacles could propel him. “GET HIM!”

On the princes’ orders, the merchild brigade chased him away from the reef and towards forbidden waters.

“JADE! FLOYD! HELP!!” He called out, but the eel twins were nowhere in sight. He looked for another way out, but he was surrounded. He passed the ship graveyard, the kept forest, the rock grove. He could feel his tentacles strain to keep up the pace and all three of his hearts beating at record speed, but the tyrannical prince would not give in until he saw Azul crying and crippled.

“Come on Azul think.” He grunted as he weaved through jagged rocks. Then he saw the sea floor start to incline and a dangerous idea came to mind. Rumor has it that there is a cave that use to be the home of a long-dead exiled Sea Witch and all rumors had a grain of truth. As the rocks got bigger, he saw the carcasses of sharks and whales and knew he was getting close.

“Rielle! He’s heading towards the shore!” He heard Rielle’s right-hand, a flounder named Florence call out.

“Then hurry up you guppy! Don’t let fatso escape!” Rielle called back; his voice was getting closer.

Azul scanned his surroundings and saw it, a small opening underneath a whale head. He darted for the bones and heard the bullies change direction after him. In a last stitch effort to lose his pursuers, he took a deep breath, concentrated, and squeezed himself into the hole. It was a tight fit, but he made it. As he shimmied through, some of his tentacles loosened rocks that blocked the entrance, stopping his pursuers and trapping him in the process. The hole grew larger, and he let himself stop and hide.

He hid in the larger hole and listened.

“Florence! Get out of the way! I’ll blast my way in!” Rielle called.

Just as Azul prepared to face his death, he heard the distinct voices of his saviors “In where, Princie~”

“TWEEELS!” Florence shrieked in fear.

“We playing a game here?” Jade asked.

“Oooo~ I wanna play!” Floyd retorted and all Azul could hear was chaos.

“Your highness, we need to leave! This place is way too close for comfort.” Another of the prince’s posse, Sebet if Azul was correct, said. “Besides, they’re doomed anyway, let’s leave them for the fishermen. We can play with Azul later. He has to come back sometime.”

“Fine.” Rielle sounded annoyed then decided to shout, “YA HEAR THAT AZUL! SHOW YOUR FAT FACE IN ATLANTICA AGAIN AND WE’LL GETCHA! INKING WILL BE THE LEAST OF YOUR PROBLEMS!”

“YA! WELL NEXT TIME WE SEE YUR FACE OUTTA ALENTICA WELL BE SNACKING ON PRINCIE!” Floyd called back.

Azul heard the group laugh as they swam away.

“Azul, are you in there?” Jade called.

“Yeah, I think I’m stuck…” Azul called back, choking on his words from crying.

“Hold on Zul! We’ll get ya outa there!” Floyd called, “I think there’s another entrance over there!”

“Azul, we’ll be right back!” Jade said before the two swam away.

Azul waited a few minutes before letting himself take a deep breath. A few tears escaped his eyes as he realized his doom. He was stuck in a cave. He couldn’t get out. The twins would get bored of helping him soon enough. And if he went back home, the prince and his school were waiting for him.

‘Would mom look for me?’ He thought as more tears streamed from his blue eyes, ‘She probably thinks I’m dead anyway…she’ll just try again with dad and forget I ever existed.’

His tentacles curled in on themselves as he cried. No wonder the other fry picked on him, he was just a crybaby, that’s all he’ll ever be.

Then one of his tentacles hit something… a vial. He looked up from his spot as his tentacle picked up the object. It was thin, made of glass with a cork keeping some green stuff in it. Then another hit a different object, a rounder, thicker glass container holding a powdery substance. Ever curious, Azul moved forward and saw more vials. Somewhat intact and held different substances while others were broken and had the contents spewed around them. The deeper he went; he saw more things covered in moss with age. Then he entered a larger opening, what must be the main room. In the center was a caldron overturned and around it was different objects.

‘The stories were true… this is the witch’s layer!’ Azul’s mood quickly turned from despair to joy. “I can’t believe it! I’m in The Sea Witch’s layer!”

For once he was thankful for his tentacles as he explored the cavern. He looked into different rooms and saw bedrooms, a kitchen, storerooms and the most wonderful library! In the library there where rows upon rows of spell books. He took some off and skimmed the contents. There where books for beauty potions, translations spells, identification incantations, and even transmutation! He was pulling different books then found a peculiar one titled “Cecelia: A History.” Out of curiosity he pulled it, and the shelf began to move.

A new, hidden tunnel appeared. It was dark and lead straight up, so being the curious creature he is, he went up. His amazement pushed his caution to the side as he began to think about what could be up there: magical artifacts, forbidden spell books, long dead secrets! But instead, it led to the surface. He saw the end of the water and paused. He had never broken to the surface before… but what could be up there? He was already here, might as well take a peek.

He took a deep breath and slowly lifted his head above the water. What he saw amazed him: another living space. It was almost exactly like the one below with a cauldron in the center and a smaller set of shelves behind it filled with things. To the side was a makeshift kitchen, a bedroom, and a sitting room with furniture made from the brown, rough material sunken ships were made of. After determining that the land was also deserted, he rose higher and got the courage to climb onto the land. His tentacles moved on the dry land pretty easily and adjusted to the sudden pressure quickly. After determining it was safe, he let his curiosity take over. He rushed over to the shelves and looked at the different books and objects. He picked them up and read the different titles, some were spell books, but others were books on human society. He made a mental note to read them later after he explored some more. Then he saw a necklace. A beautiful shell necklace that seemed to glow slightly. As his hand brushed the shell, then he heard a noise.

Crying, someone was crying. He darted back to the water out of fear and hid under the waves. ‘Someone’s here… I thought this place was aban- wait… that sounds like its coming from over there…’ He swam towards a second entrance to this place. It was vertical and there was a light coming from the other side. He went through the tunnel and saw the sand make a sharp incline up. ‘The Shore!’

The crying got louder and through the water he saw a small figure. ‘Leave! GO! This is Dangerous!’ part of him screamed in his brain, but the other part recognized that crying. It was a cry of loneliness. He clenched his fist and took another deep breath “Kept it.” He told himself then rose to peer out of the water. He peaked his eyes out of the water but that was all he needed to see the most beautiful being he has ever seen: A human girl.

She looked to be around his age, skin the color of white sand, golden hair like waves fell over her shoulders and hid her face. She had on a cloth thing in a pink color more vibrate than he had ever seen with a matching ribbon in her hair. He could see her legs, thin things that had the oddest fins attached to them with thinner tentacles on the end of them. Her legs were pulled into her chest with her arms keeping them close. He had been in that position many times before. Her sobs echoed in the cavern and made his heart hurt. Next to her was a brown basket made of the same particular material that the furniture was made of. Inside it were books and cloth wrapped objects.

He watched her for a moment and a part of him wanted to swim closer. Subconsciously, a single tentacle stretches close to the girl, and it wasn’t until he saw the black limb creeping up to her legs that he noticed. He wrenched the tentacle back and it caused a splash.

“Who’s there!” The girl looked up quicker than he could sink down. Their eyes locked in that moment, and he was stunned. Vibrant green orbs starred back at him. Filled a familiar sensation that he knew all too well: loneliness.

He has no clue how long they stayed like that. Staring at each other unsure what to do. She was the one to break the silence. “Woah… you’re a.. A mermaid!”

She moved closer and Azul sunk down into the depths, his rational brain telling him to flee.

“Wait! I-I won’t hurt you! Please don’t go!” He heard her call. He saw her legs running towards him in the water and he backed-up terrified. He was about to run, but what she said next would be the words that changed Azul’s life forever: “Please… I-I just want a friend…”

‘Run… Run…’ He thought, then his pesky hearts got in the way, ‘She’s just like me…I’m already dead anyway.’

He turned around and saw her lower half in the water. The fabric moving with the waves and pale legs firmly planted in the sand. He closed his eyes and slowly rose above the water. Her eyes shined and looked over him not in fear and disgust, but amazement and wonder.

“H-hi…” She said and smiled at him. She smiled at him. Then held out her hand, “I’m Grace…Grace Trein, what’s your name?”

She looked so soft and squishy. He reached out his hand tentatively, but his nerves got the best of him and backed away. She could see his hesitation and lifted both of her hands palms out, “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise, see.” She wiggled her fingers and smiled. He was still nervous and didn’t move towards her but did speak up.

“a-azul” he said in a quiet voice.

“Azul? That’s a pretty name!” He could feel her eyes studying him and prepared himself for the hurtful comments on his weight. But she instead pointed to something in the water, “Is that a Sexton!”

He looked down and saw he still had the weird contraption that got him in this mess. He lifted it and repeated the name, “Sex-ton?”

“Yeah! Sailors use it to navigate!” She stepped closer and he moved back. She noticed this and stepped back as well, “May I see it?” She stretched her hand out palm up. He saw a silver bracelet on her arm that caught his eye. She saw this and took it off, “Wanna trade for a bit? I promise i’ll give it back!”

Curiosity won and two black tentacles moved towards her hand, and one held the sexton. He quickly took the silver bracelet and dropped the sexton into her hand before she could comment. He took the bracelet from his tentacle and examined the silver base and blue jewels embedded in it.

“Wow! You’re an Oct-mer!” She said, “That is so cool!”

He was not prepared for the comment and a blue blush crept onto his face. He was shocked to say the least, “Cecelia…”

“huh?” Grace tilted her head and repeated the word, “Cecelia… is that the proper name?”

Azul nodded and kept his head down. “Yeah…”

“Cecelia… That is really pretty, I like it!” Her face glowed as she spoke, all happy and joyful. It was completely different from the face she had when he arrived. She looked at the sexton and moved it around in her hands, then lifted it up and looked through it. The curiosity in her eyes made Azul want to ask her questions like ‘where is she from? Why was she in the cave? How did she find it? Why are you being nice to me? What do you want from me? Are you just being nice to my face or to lure me into a trap?’ but he kept his mouth shut and went back to examining the bracelet. It was very beautiful and simple in design, but even more interesting was the writing on the underside of the bracelet: Grace – Our precious pearl Love Mama and Papa. He ran his hand along the writing and felt the indents swirl with the letters.

Grace broke his concentration, “I was just reading about this!” He looked up and saw her walk to the shore with his trinket.

“h-hey! That’s m-mine!” He swam forward a bit as he feared she would run off with the sexton!

Grace quickly turned around and subdued his nerves “I won’t take it, I’m just grabbing my book!” She took out a green book from her basket and sat on the shore, “come here! I wanna show you something!”

“u-um…” Azul bit his lower lip before gathering his courage. This was going against every bone in his body, but he swam to the shore, “Ok.” The dry sand felt weird on his skin, but he made it over and peered at the book.

On the page was a four-legged creature with wings, the same creature that was on the sexton. “It’s called a Pegasus! They are magical creatures from when the great seven lived.” She said and tilted the book as if telling him to take it. He took it gingerly and felt his hand brush against hers as it transferred. His curiosity took over and he started to read the passage next to the picture. “According to the book, The Hero Hercules had a Pegasus who helped him on his adventures. I was reading about it for lessons today!” She was really close to him, and he could feel her clothes brush against his skin as she held up the Saxton. “Papa says that the Gods rearranged the stars so Hercules and his Pegasus’ could watch over humanity for the rest of time.”

“Stars?” Azul asked and turned his head to look at her, only then realizing that their heads were so close. Their noses almost touched, and she looked into his eyes directly.

“Yeah! The bright dots in the sky at night!” She says and points out to the opening of the cave, then her expression changed to one of confusion and realization, “You have never seen the stars. Have you?”

Azul shook his head and held his breath. ‘She is so close to me. Why is she so close to me. Whyisshesocloseto-’

GRRRRR.

Azul’s train of thought were interrupted by his stomach. His round belly grumbled so loudly that it echoed in the cave and Azul felt his heart sank. He froze in embarrassment. He was making progress with the girl and his stomach is going to ruin every-

“Are you hungry? I have sandwiches!” Grace turned to her basket and pulled out the cloth wrapped thing. She removed the cloth and handed him a dry sandwich. It looked like the sandwiches his mom sold at her restaurant, but instead of kelp it had a sponge, beige looking holding the contents together. He looked at her in surprise and pointed to himself.

“Y-you’re giving it to me?” He said surprised.

“Well yeah,” She took out half of the sandwich, “I have other snacks to if you don’t like sandwiches, Mrs. Hellen aways packs extra so I have chips, apples, juice, and some cookies!” She held out more food and he just looked at her in shock.

“You’re not going to make fun of me?” He asks quietly. This question made her smile fall and eyebrows knit together.

“Why would I do that?” She said, she shoulders slumped a bit and she looked down, “Being made fun of hurts more than being pushed downstairs, I don’t wanna do that to anyone.”

The glint came back. The watery gaze, strained voice, tense body, the pain… it is all too familiar to Azul. “People do that to you too?” Azul asked.

“Worse, brothers.” Grace said, “Anthony and Danny always make fun of me. They say I talk too much, or ask too many questions, or am too ugly to be a girl, or make fun of me for not having magic, or worse…” Tears started to form in her eyes. She hugged herself with the food still in her hand, “Ever since we moved here, its gotten worse. Mama and Papa use to step in and tell them to stop, but Mama isn’t here anymore, Papa is always working, and the servants don’t do anything… probably because they agree with them. Eli tries to step in, but he is too little to understand.” She then shakes her head and wipes her eyes away with her forearm, “I’m sorry, I’m talking too much, its not proper for a lady to talk so much-”

“Nonono! Me too!” Azul gestures to himself, “I mean- I like hearing you talk! People back home bullied me all the time! They say I talk to much a-and call me a nerd too! B-but they also call me fat and ugly, w-which is true for me but not in your case you're really pretty-but anyway! I get it! Bullies hurt…” Azul fidgeted his fingers and tentacles as he spoke and looked down at the ground, scared to look into her eyes.

There was a tense silence for a moment and Azul thought he blew it with his new potential friend, “…you think I’m pretty?” He looked up and her face was red, she was blushing so hard and looked at him in surprise.

“Y-yeah… you are…” He was really nervous as they were still close.

Grace loosened her grip on herself and the poor sandwiches and a small smile graced her lips, “Well… I think your pretty cute,” She looked up and him and their eyes met yet again. “And, I have never seen a mermaid in real life before, but after talking to you, I think Cecelia are cooler than regular mermaids.” She held out half of the sandwich and her smile changed from small to big in a genuine manner. And a weird thing happened, her smiling made Azul want to smile. The only people who have ever made Azul smile just by them smiling were the tweels. He feels a weird draw towards her, like a string pulling them together. It was a similar tug he felt with the tweels, but something about it was different.

Grace handed Azul half of the sandwich and he took it. But before taking a bite, she raised her half. “Friends?”

Azul felt his hearts beat faster. He was in shock; ‘Sh-she wants to be friends with m-me? Th-this never happens! I have a Friend! A new human friend! That means I have THREE friends!!’ “Friends!”

“Friends?” “FRIENDS!!” Two teal heads suddenly leaped out of the water.

In the shallows of the cave water were Jade and Floyd in matching sharp tooth grins.

Azul felt panic rise in his chest as the two swam closer and crawl onto the sand. Grace jumped with half a sandwich hanging out of her mouth. “moareyou?” She said with her mouth full.

Azul’s arms and tentacles were moving frantically, “nononono, please don’t freak out, they are my friends,” Grace took the sandwich out of her mouth and relaxed her shoulders a bit. “T-this is Jade and Floyd, they a-are my friends, and I guess your friends now too since you’re my friend, i-if that’s how this thing works right?” As he spoke his tentacles moved to exclaim his point.

Grace looked back and forth between Azul and the twin’s and her apprehension turned to a smile, “I-I have three friends, I HAVE THREE FRIENDS!” She was as excited as Floyd was. Her hair and bow bounced as she jumped. Her eyes sparkled and she tackled Azul in a hug. “THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! YOU’RE THE BEST!!!!”

Azul stood there stunned. Her arms around him and she was thanking him for friends. She moved on to hug the twins, but all Azul could think about was her arms around him and her eyes glowing in excitement.

“YAY!” Grace tackle-hugged Floyd and the two fell in the water. Jade chuckled at the sight and beached himself on the shore.

“Seems like you helped yourself Azul,” Jade commented and plucked some of the treats out of Grace’s basket, “You even found food.”

“Seems so,” Azul replied as Grace and Floyd got out of the water.

Grace squeezed the water out of her dress and hair, Azul couldn’t take his eyes off her and it made Jade’s smile grow sharp, “A human girl… interesting,” He hummed.

Azul turned to Jade and quirked his brow, “What do you mean by that?”

Jade shook his head as Grace came over to hug him, “Nothing, just interesting.”

Azul would not understand what Jade noted until years later. On that summer’s day, Azul’s life changed. He found an abandoned grotto he now called home, he started to seriously study magic alongside the tweels using the books and artifacts now at their disposal, and met Grace Trein, a girl who would help him conquer both land and sea.

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

Tag List: @twistedcece @thisisafish123

Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more characters in this scenario or these characters in different scenarios, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[missathlete31]

Just A Scratch- Part 1

A dramatic angsty Hannix prompt:

Warnings: Phoenix is put into an uncomfortable and unwanted position at the bar so please be wary if anything like that sounds triggering to you.

It all happens so quickly. One minute Phoenix is heading over to Penny to get a round of drinks at the bar and the next second she is being pushed up against the panel-sided wall by a drunk man who's hands find the swell of her ass like they have a homing beacon. Before she can even react he is there, in her space and getting closer, face showcasing a smugness in the way he leers confidently down at her. She's been hit on before of course, and usually reacts better, but something about it happening at the Hard Deck of all places, an establishment that has become like a second home for all the Daggers, puts Natasha in such shock that she can only stare back at the man unmoving.

"Well aren’t you a sight” the man speaks; his breath hot on her ear as he somehow seems to come even closer into her personal space. Natasha can’t contain her shiver, her unease palpable as her mind screams at her to push him off and get out of there and yet her body stays put. It’s not like she’s drunk; Phoenix was the last of the Daggers to arrive and hadn’t even managed to get a drink yet but somehow she is as frozen as a deer in headlights as this stranger gives her ass another squeeze with a grin.

Her lack of fight emboldens the drunken man. Perhaps he is mistaking it for her being interested although from the way he has her virtually trapped against the far wall of the bar, Natasha has a feeling he is the type of predator that enjoys making his prey feel ensnared. She raises a hand and tries to push back, finding enough of herself to recognize she needs out of this situation immediately, but the man bats her attempts at escape away with a chuckle. “If you want to get handsy baby, I suggest we go some place a little more private.”

“Let me go” it’s the first Natasha has spoken and she would be embarrassed by the lack of power in her voice if she wasn’t so freaked out by the whole situation. The man shakes his head with a condescending look, almost as though he finds the female aviator adorable. “Oh sweetie, don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya-“

“I said-“ her voice raises as she pushes against the man’s chest again to try and find a path to escape, “let me go.”

“But we are having so much fun” one more squeeze to her butt and then the man is moving to cradle her face, framing the stands of hair that fall over her face. Natasha opted to wear civilian clothes with her hair down today, a decision she regrets as the man in front of her continues to show her no respect. She knows this sort of thing wouldn’t happen if she was in uniform, remembering all the times she’s been called a frigid stick up the ass when she told men no in her khakis. Channeling that power, that strength that she possess when she wears her Lieutenant bars and soon to be Lieutenant Commander if Maverick is right about the ceremony at the end of the month, Natasha gives another push, harder to the point the man actually stumbles a step. He isn’t deterred, merely smiling as he shifts a lock of her hair behind her ear and dares to kiss the spot of skin he removed it from. “Beautiful and a little feisty, my favorite combination-“

“Then you’ll love me” a voice announces and it would be comical how fast the drunk man’s head snaps up at the sound if the whole circumstances wasn’t so scary. Phoenix turns as well, finally feeling a moment of calm as she notices Hangman of all people have come over, his eyes assessing the situation quickly and picking up on her unease. He’s wearing his khakis’ as usual, one of the few Daggers to still dress in regulation despite being on their mandated month of leave. The military Ken doll look works on him though, usually combined with his infuriating smirk and winking sea green eyes. That’s not who stands in front of Phoenix right now though, the flirty and playful Jake gone, replaced with the stone cold killer that Nat only sees on missions.  Tonight, Hangman looks livid, lips thin and eyes narrowed as he stares at the man holding Natasha hostage with a glare that would make smarter men run for the hills. The drunk doesn’t seem fazed though, or perhaps he has a death wish, because instead of backing off the man just scoffs Seresin’s way, “Find your own bitch” he warns, sparing Jake no more as he pushes back into Natasha’s body, a bulge in his pants hitting her hip and making this state of affairs a hell of a lot more real.

The pressure only last a second before the drunken man is ripped away from Phoenix and sent careening to the ground the other way. Before the female aviator can even process what is happening, Jake is in front of her, the expression on his face concerned though his eyes still look murderous. “Are you alright?” he asks immediately, his gaze scanning her for injuries while his hands hover without touching. Natasha knows she owes Jake some kind of thank you for saving her but something about Hangman being the one to see her so vulnerable and scared makes Phoenix raise her defenses, the defenses she should have had up from the beginning so she could have fought off the strange man herself. With embarrassment crippling her, she tries to roll her eyes, "I didn't need your help" she comments quickly, hurrying to hide the fluster off her face from the speed of the assault she just endured.

Jake barely blinks at her attitude, eyes still staring, still assessing, "But are you o-“ he’s cut off when suddenly a bottle breaks over his head, sending Hangman stumbling down to one knee from the force of the blow as glass rains all around them. Nat looks up to see her predator coming back, the other half of the broken bottle in his shaking hands, “you’re mine” he states, anger now in his tone from this delay in his conquest. He moves to take another step, but Hangman is up to the task, lunging up and tackling the man away from Phoenix once more.

The altercation has gained the whole bars attention at this point. The music of the piano cut away as everything descends into chaos. Natasha can see Jake land a punch before he is flipped over and lost in the movement of bodies converging on the two fighting men.

Phoenix is yanked immediately away from the wall and the fighting by Payback, who as the tallest of the group is able to spot her quickly as the other Daggers join the fight to back up Seresin. He deposits her over to Halo and Bob, a move that normally would anger Natasha for being ‘handled’ but she is still so shocked by the turn of events that she allows her friends to all but cocoon her in their safety. Pulled over to the side and out of the scuffle, Phoenix is able to watch as the men of her squadron rip the drunken man away from their teammate and throw him towards a corner booth. The man is bleeding from his nose and a split lip, and yet still he tries to fight his way away. Luckily the Daggers seem too formidable for him to overcome and they manage to box him in to the cushion, an image so similar to what the man did to her that Phoenix has to look away. She hears vaguely as Penny yells the police are on their way but Natasha’s attention soon becomes fixated on her savior. Jake is getting clear of the melee, Javy helping him over to a barstool, as blood covers the left side of his head and continues to trickle. Before she even thinks about it, Nat is moving, startling Bob and Callie with how quickly she is heading towards the bar top.

Just as she arrives Rooster is coming over too, handing Jake a towel to hold pressure as Javy runs to get ice. She watches Jake wince the minute the fabric hits his cut, the white of the cotton turning red quickly like it’s already done Seresin’s hair and skin. Natasha isn’t squeamish but the image is more than off-putting especially because it is her fault that the man is hurt anyway. Jake rubs his other hand along his jaw, showcasing the beginning of a bruise no doubt from a punch in the brawl.

Beside the injured aviator, Rooster lets out a long breath, “Penny is asking for an ambulance, just sit tight man-“

“Not needed” Jake moves to shake his head, and then as though thinking better of it, refrains. “I’m fine” though the way he teeters even while seated negates his entire argument. Bradshaw opens his mouth to argue but Nat beats him to it.

“Jake-“ Phoenix manages, because calling him Bagman right now feels wrong, “Oh god Jake-“ before she can say more, both men turn to look at her, wearing identical looks of concerns.

“Nat you alright?” Bradley asks at the same moment that Jake tries to stand and ask the same thing. Rooster pushes him back towards the barstool with barely any pressure, before turning to the female pilot again, “did he hurt you?” the mustached man asks.

“No, I’m fine. But, Jake he- God, I’m so sorry-“

“None of this is your fault Phoenix” Hangman answers, earning a look of approval from Bradley for not allowing Natasha to even try to feel any guilt for the night’s events.

“But- but your head-“

“A cheap shot, it’s nothing” though they can all see the wince when Jake tries to move the towel off. Bradley stands closer, looking over the top of Jake’s head, and giving a long whistle, “I think you’re going to need stitches Seresin” he shares gravely.

“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch that is ruining all your clothes right now” Bradley points out, emphasizing the now bloody collar of Jake’s khaki’s. It’s said with exasperation and concern, both Bradshaw and Seresin embracing the new level of friendship they had managed to reach after the success of the mission.

“Head wounds bleed a lot” the blonde reasons dismissively, “I’m good.”

“Yeah too good to be true right?”

Before Jake can reply to Bradshaw with his normal quips, Penny arrives, motherly concern on full display as she shuffles Jake towards the office where she keeps her first aid kit. Javy follows the pair, the four shots the man already had during the night making him more of a hindrance than a help, but still they manage. With Hangman gone, Natasha feels cold, not liking the man being out of her sight especially with him being so hurt because of her. As though he can read her mind, Bradley moves closer to Phoenix’s side, not touching her but providing comfort by making sure to block her from the view of her assaulter and the view of Jake’s blood on the floor.

Bob arrives with a glass of water, kind enough not to comment when Natasha’s hands shake when she grips it. Her WSO knows her better at this point than to ask her if she is okay, instead offering her a kind voice, “do you need anything?” he asks.

She shakes her head, “I’m good” she manages, naturally thinking of Jake with that choice of words and cursing herself when her lip wobbles with emotions. Bob, sensing all, places a gentle hand on her forearm “the minute he saw that man get in your space he was off” the bespectacled man supplies.

“What?”

“Hangman, I don’t think I ever seen him so worried. He didn’t even wait for Rooster or Coyote, he just barged on over to get to you.”

“Well you know how he likes to play savior” she murmurs though she hates herself for even saying those words out loud.

Bob eyes her for a moment, reading her mind like he always seems able to do, before shaking his head. “You know better than that” he speaks sadly, disappointment evident. “When I first met you all I thought you both were-“ he stops, pausing to follow Nat’s eyes that can’t seem to help but follow to the back room that Jake has left to go to. “You should talk to him. He- He’s not quite what I thought” Bob decides to share, squeezing his pilot’s arm one last time before giving her a moment.

Phoenix lets out a shaky breath. Its information she can’t process right now, not with the smells of the drunken man’s cologne and Hangman’s blood still under her nose. She wishes she could dismiss Bob’s observation as being misinterpreted but Natasha knows it’s not fair to Bob or Jake. In truth, she’s known Jake Seresin for a decade and though the man has been a thorn in her side, he’s also always been an ally. He’s pushed her harder than any other pilot or teacher ever has, and never looked down on her for being a woman like some of the other men has. In all honesty, if the turf war between him and Bradshaw hadn’t forced Natasha to pick a side, Phoenix knows Jake would be one of her closest friends, maybe even more at this point. They always had a good relationship, a give and take that kept things interesting and fun. She also isn’t blind; able to admit that Jake looks as good as he claims. Could it be that Jake feels the same way? Bob seems to imply as much, and the man’s deductions have been nothing but right since the day she met her WSO in the bar before the mission.

Natasha’s eyes turn back to the office door at the end of the hallway. The door is still closed and Nat knows that somewhere inside Jake is probably still bleeding because of her; hurting because of her. She wants to get to him, to thank him, to apologize, to hold his hand every time he wants to wince from the pain she has caused him. In the span of a few minutes Phoenix realizes that she cares for Jake Seresin, in ways that disguised itself as friendship and camaraderie but feels so much more now. She takes a few steps forward, ready to throw caution to the wind and just be there for the man, when the door flies open and a frantic Coyote runs out. His hands are red with Jake’s blood and the fear in his eyes are enough to almost stop Nat’s heart right there. “SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE” he screams, shocking the room silent, “NOW!”

And then everything descends back into chaos.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

the devil said, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook's favorite thing to do is pretend to be innocent so the devil his woman corrupts fucks him just the way they both like.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, spit kink, (unspoken) corruption kink, slight shame / humiliation(?) kink, scratching / marking, m-receiving oral, ball torture, handjob, thigh riding, cum eating); non-idol!BTS - dom!reader x sub!JK; PWP; JK's POV

--

“Give me more.”

When her fingers caressed his chin, he let himself succumb to her hold. This unique touch framed him, truly. Like art, he became more in her hands. He felt bad for everyone else, because how could anyone feel as perfect as he did right now? How could anyone feel as weightless as he did in this containment, his throat trapped between her index and middle fingers that laid right under his jaw, her thumb on his lower lip, pressing down and rubbing against his lip ring, toying with him?

She tipped her hand, and he looked into her eyes.

Trapped.

The fingers of her other hand tangled in his hair, pulling back harshly.

Stings of pain never tasted so sweet.

Those devilish eyes smiled at him before she did.

“P… Please…”

Her glistening pink tongue slid out.

Tracing a circle, flexible and strong, savoring the air between them.

He tried not to shiver. He tried not to be afraid, but he was, and he knew she could sense it. Knew she fed off fear like sustenance, knew that him trying to hide it only made it more delicious and so he continued with this brave façade that she broke down slowly, leisurely, pleasurably, forcing him to wait, leaning down to whisper against his lips, leaving him millimeters from her intoxicating kiss.

Just a little closer.

Every time her lips formed his name, he wanted to give up a little more.

“You’ve been waiting to play with me, haven’t you, Jungkook?”

She didn’t let him answer.

Simply pressed her lips to his and he devoured them, this hunger insatiable. He didn’t want to think about anything else. Just this pressure, this intensity, these powerful hands gripping his jaw and chin, and her sweet breath drifting into his mouth, ensnaring him in this daze-like passion. Lips so soft they reminded him of confectionery. Travelling touch over his neck and through his hair like a warm summer breeze, swept up in the heat, not even noticing how easily the buttons of his shirt were teased apart, so casually undone that the fabric slipped off his shoulders like liquid, water under the bridge that everyone told him not to cross.

Jeon Jungkook hadn’t listened.

He probably should have, considering now he was pleading for the devil to be by his window.

Every night.

Every day.

All the time.

Her tongue slipped into his mouth. Sweet saliva sliding down his throat and suddenly every cell in his body became more sensitive, high-alert, relentless temptation an aphrodisiac all on its own. He loved the way her hands splayed over his body and decorated him with passion, grazing fingers fanning like feathers over his skin, barely there and yet so unavoidable, suspending him in between dreams and reality.

Nowhere to escape.

Not that he wanted to.

People often told him he was wasting away with this obsession, but they had never tasted desire like this, never tasted the purity of lust with their tongue, never been possessed by this feeling of not knowing what would happen and yet feeling so comfortable, so safe in that feeling. Why give it up? Weightless without a worry as her fingernails sank into his hard thighs and forced them open, exposing his nakedness in the most shameful and shameless way, those devilish eyes locking with his.

Kisses on the edge of his lips.

His friends questioned if it was healthy. If one person should be so infatuated with another. If this was love or lust, but to Jungkook they were one and the same, better together, so tangled that no one knew the answer anymore. He loved that she needed nothing but her naked body to be the pure embodiment of decadent desire. It was so easy. One look, one touch, and he bent to her will right away. If it was unhealthy, he indulged anyway. If it was wrong, he wanted to be shackled to his crime.

He didn’t want it to end.

She spat on his cock.

His hips lurched, gasp tearing from his throat, heat pooling down his core. He wasn’t even hard yet, but she didn’t look, instead smirking in front of his face, only watching his reaction, the saliva clinging to her lip lightly flicked away by a finger. Warmth in his cheeks as they flushed. His pounding heartbeat in his throat, wanting more but too afraid to ask, breath so shallow he couldn’t get enough oxygen, shuddering as her fingernails danced up his naked thighs, bringing her body closer to him.

“You like that?” she purred.

Jungkook didn’t want to admit it, so he whimpered in response.

He didn’t expect this to happen. There was something about her, of course, something about how effortlessly he ended up slipping into conversations with her that seemed to always end up in vulnerable corners of his mind that he had previously felt too scared to explore, even with close friends. Mostly because he felt inadequate in explaining himself, and yet he found himself wandering into the haven that was her open mind. She listened. It was so simple and yet so compelling. Maybe he had crawled too quickly into that space. . Maybe he had too eagerly gone forward on his hands and knees, and suddenly he wanted more, wanted to be trapped in the allure of her lips, wanted to dream about the shape of her eyes, and, ah, that devilish smile, wanted to see it again and again, too ready to beg, more, give me more. It was dangerous to take it there, he knew.

He didn’t care.

She had only smiled, as if she expected this result.

Maybe all that was just part of her master plan to seduce him.

She spat on him again.

Instantly, Jungkook felt his cock swell.

His teeth caught his lower lip, biting down on the left side.

His fingers curled into the sheets, twisting them in his anticipation, happily drowning in this torture.

There was something so perfect about someone so beautiful doing something so crass. Something so lovely about curves and softness piercing him with jagged lust. Fear was just another word for arousal in this moment. His head tipped back as hers lowered. Hot breath feathered over his flexed, shivering chest.

“Look how hard you’re getting and all I’ve done is spit on you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, not because it wasn’t true but because it felt better to deny it, somehow more wrong and more right at the same time, an inexplicable shame that heightened his senses, unable to come down anymore, blinding himself with the beautiful stars of this headspace where he could give up everything to reach the highest peak of pleasure.

“N… No…”

“No?” she murmured, soft and sweet.

“It’s n-not true…”

He didn’t mind giving up like this.

Others his age were concerned about being an adult, yet no one seemed to know what that entailed or what it even meant. Here, Jungkook had the privilege of the purest enjoyment. Why worry about those meaningless things? Why settle for mediocrity, stressed in constant fear of being bad, when he could be so good at being bad? Why be an adult and resist temptation when she could give him everything he ever wanted? Why live if there was no passion in the spit splattering onto his skin?

He used to think, I can’t do that.

She had asked him, who told you that you can’t enjoy the things you like as long as you aren’t hurting anyone?

She spat on him a third time and Jungkook moaned, opening his eyes and looking down, seeing and feeling himself get harder without mouth or hand, rivets of slick liquid trickling down and clinging to taut skin, the twitching shaft catching the light wherever saliva resided, shiny and glossy, and he felt his cock stiffen as he drank in these details, strangely narcissistic in witnessing his growing erection.

“You do like it,” she hummed, kneading his thighs.

Jungkook nodded, breathless, both wanting to touch himself and wanting to be touched.

She leaned down and licked him all over.

Desire spread throughout his veins, to every nerve and every dark corner, gasping as he felt her hot tongue trace his length, his balls, the inside of his thighs, weightless, breathless he stared at the graceful line of her spine and the juicy curve of her naked ass, so perky and squeezable he longed to hold it in his hands, but his hands were too busy clutching the sheets, pinning himself to the bed so she could work on him without his interference, high on cloud nine, aching for the paradise that was the tight, wet hole of her skillful mouth.

He didn’t want to come down.

She swallowed his cock.

Warm all around, wrapped in tongue and lips and choked by her throat.

His eyes slid up to the ceiling as her mouth began to move back and forth. Saliva-slick muscles constricting around him, tongue running up and around the base of the tip, down to his balls, licking left and right, a perfect ring of power around the base of the head descending to the depths, as far as he could go, and, oh, how he wished he was even bigger, longer, greedy to feel more even though the overwhelming sensations were already too much, so soft, so tight, so inescapable. Her fingers locked around his balls and then her knuckles pulsed, sending a wave of near-uncomfortable pressure shooting through him, fuck, yes, oooh, yes, and was it wrong to admit he hoped for this because it forced him to last longer? Maybe, but there was something so heavenly about this hell. Too nice and everything would end too fast. Too rough and the heaven would be broken. Back and forth, wet sleeve, massaging his balls at the same time, one hand on his tense thigh. Her hair was gathered in a ponytail that curled around her shoulders, so perfectly pretty that he wished he could stop and film it. He thought, next time, but he was sure next time would be like all the time – mind and body too desperate for her attention to remember, forgetting all the things he was supposed to do to chase orgasms instead.

Responsibilities were such a nuisance.

He just wanted to fuck all day and all night.

Surely, she must have put him under some spell, but Jungkook figured he had probably asked for it.

“Harder… s-squeeze harder…”

She complied and he soared to new heights.

“Oooh, fuck, I’m so close, please, so close…”

She locked her grip around his balls, immovable and inescapable, consistent rhythm of her mouth amplifying somehow, sensations building on top of each other, and he was trying so hard, so hard not to be swept up in wave after wave of overwhelming ecstasy threatening to drag him under, irresistible, this high so high he couldn’t recall feeling it before, and he knew he was spoiled, spoiled because no matter how many times they fucked, it never got worse and only got better.

There must be a bit of the devil in this love.

Jungkook wasn’t complaining.

He was bad for thinking that but the kind of bad that meant good.

He tipped his head back and moaned, unable to take it anymore, shooting into the back of her throat, his hips flinching to pump it all out, shivering as he felt her swallow, prickling sensitivity stabbing though his hard, overly-stressed muscles, his eyes rolling back at the sweetness of sloppy kisses all over his twitching cock and then, once again, being enveloped in that blanketing, wet, addictive warmth, sucking up her spit and the remainder of his cum.

Jungkook knew all the things he liked about her holes.

Her mouth for the plethora of technique and precise skill.

Her ass for the wrongness and softness.

Her pussy for taking his soul, from the heady sweetness of her cum to the unrelenting power of her orgasm to the way she would clench around him and pull him in, closer, deeper, reduced to nothing but primal pleasure and breathless cries of tangled limbs. Smacking hips, lost breath, bodies consumed by the sensations. There was nothing like their joined orgasm, especially when she wrapped her hand around his neck while he fucked her, thinning his oxygen so the apex of the high knew no bounds.

It was an obsession.

He would chase her smirk. Prey on the things he knew she was afraid to admit, like how aroused she became at his pleading and how much she liked it when he pretended to be innocent and good, not-so-secretly waiting to be corrupted by her lust, pretending to resist so she could whisper in his ear, give up, don’t put up a fight.

She did something to him, something bad.

“You liked that...” she murmured.

Her hand curled around his head, cradling his skull in her fingers, corner of her lips rising in a mischievous smirk. Trailing her pointed manicure up his shaking chest. Stopped, digging her nails into the skin and muscle above his racing heart, making him groan at the delightful discomfort. Winding her grip into his hair, pulling, dragging him back into the heated pain at the exact moment that he was tempted to cool down, but how could he, how could he as their eyes connected once again, looking right into that enticing, intoxicating gaze?

“My darling?”

Low, sultry, sweet.

He surrendered to her whims.

“Y-Yeah…”

Closer, hand on his chest wandering to his collarbones, tracing them, stroking the tension away, closer, her body sliding between his legs like water, smooth thighs against his half-hard cock, closer, devilish smile teasing him. “Yeah?” Her tone feather-light in comparison to the visceral dance of her fingertips, the dainty sensations plucking at his nerves, instrumental to his arousal. “All I did was spit on your dick three times and you got hard right away.”

Heat all over and yet he refuted it, maybe more for his own pleasure than in the name of honesty.

“N-No…”

Her thigh rubbing against him and his lashes fluttered, gasping at the skin-to-skin.

“If you’re not truthful, I can’t give you everything.”

Pulling his head back by his hair, and then his throat was exposed to that wicked tongue, whining as her hand wrapped around his length, slow pump and giving him everything already but that was part of the game, y-yes, this reality that felt like a dream, yes what, my darling, firm grip, precise pressure, so tight and so good, her hard nipples pressed to his heaving chest, yes, o-oh, I like all the things you do to me…

“Even the bad things?”

Gasping, so much pleasure his nerves were on fire, his mind hazy, nothing but her pace and her whisper against his quivering throat right under that sly smile.

“Especially… especially the bad things… oh, fuck…”

Jungkook couldn’t explain it. Didn’t know how. There was no one else. Would never be anyone else. He would rather die than be in a world without her, without this. Her hand just didn’t feel as good as his own hand. She yanked at his hair, stinging pain, and he liked it more because she liked it, crying out, wanted more pain to tempt her more, wanted her to want him more. Wanted her to know that there was no one else that could take what she gave as well as he could. He was so good, so good, so good and so ready to be bad, thrusting his hips up into her brutal pace, feeling his body erupt in shivers, tingling nerves singing all over his tense limbs, suspended in sensations. Oh, her tongue, her lips, her devious intent, all of it coaxing him to crave it, chase it, beg for it, more, p-please, more, don’t stop, the bites, the licks, the lengthy kisses, the wispy moans vibrating between him and her, melding together with the harsh sound of her jacking him off.

No one around to hear, no one around to know, no one but the corrupter and the corrupted intertwining, lost in the carnal delight.

“F-Faster, a-ah, yes, like that, fuuuuck…”

Couldn’t stop.

Her thighs wrapping around his.

So close.

Wet pussy rubbing against his burning muscle, so tense and hard it almost hurt, all his senses heightened at their closeness, the honey scent of her arousal so potent, slick folds creating intoxicating friction, hot breath against his neck, his eyes in the back of his head, commanded by her hand, so tight, so firm, begging for it not to end, so close, jaw clenched, his bedsheets balled into his fists, pitifully moaning her name like a prayer.

Couldn’t stop.

His orgasm shot through him.

Core tight and Jungkook gasped, hips flinching and spilling onto the back of her hand, his thigh, her thigh, everywhere in the uncontrollable twitches, so much, white lines painting their bodies, the strong scent of sex saturating the air, thick and heavy, and he couldn’t think, mind blank, his eyes squeezing shut as he felt her slit flex and pulse against his hard thigh, smearing sweetness onto his taut, shivering skin, she smells so fucking delicious, and he was almost regretful, wasting their precious orgasms in this madness, but then he felt her lips kissing his trembling shoulder, soft and sublime and seductive, and he regretted nothing.

There would always be more times to taste more.

To have more.

She pushed his head down to that devilish smile and he lost himself in her delicate, dangerous kisses, so many but never enough, taking her hand while locked in those addictive lips, bringing it up, cum and all, slipping their fingers between their tongues.

Tasting himself.

Heart swelling as he felt her smile against his fingers before wrapping her lips around them, licking them off as he licked her hand clean. She hummed in satisfaction. She was pleased. Pleased at the dirty action he initiated, his heartbeat fluttering at the thought, and he did these things just so he could hear the devil say.

“More.”

He moaned, to his hand and her lips.

Jungkook knew his innocence brought the devil out of her and he loved it.

“Give me more.”

--

masterpost

inspired by 'sugar rush ride' and 'devil by the window' artist: tomorrow by together

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Other Man: Kenjaku (Psuedo-Geto) x Fem!Reader

Self indulgent fic here I come

Wc: calculating…

Tw: smut, tears, spit, dub-con, angst?

Masterlist

You know something is up when Kenjaku sweeps into the apartment he keeps you locked up in, grabs your arm roughly, and yanks you toward the bedroom.

You don’t outwardly verbalize your pain, his searing grip on your arm driving your senses mad and making you anxious. But you do show it on your face.

“On the bed,” he quips roughly, yanking his clothes off and grunting with the exertion. Maintenance, Kenjaku called it. Maintenance is simply the word he uses for the acts he’ll perform on you. Not maintenance for your body, but for his.

There are certain constraints Kenjaku doesn’t enjoy, like using the bathroom, wasting time thinking about food, or any other need his shell of a body requires to keep him alive and functioning. One of those things is also sex, naturally.

“He requires it. He is frustrated.” The excuses Kenjaku gives you for the frequent sessions of sex always come in the third person - he needs it. He wants to touch someone. He, he, he.

But as the body of the man moves on top of you in the sheets you bought long before your hostage situation, you wonder who this ‘he’ used to be. You imagine the man sans the long scar on his forehead with a piqued curiosity that doesn’t seem to go away, even when you’re absolutely disgusted with Kenjaku.

And you get glimpses of him - the man who used to live inside that stolen body - especially when Kenjaku is otherwise sedated or deeply occupied. The fingers that used to run over your arms and claw at them are now soft and searching, committing acts of foreplay over your naked flesh.

“Bend over.” You obey, getting on your hands and knees. You’ve known this was your purpose ever since you were held hostage in your own home by a man who considered you to be a maid, cook, and pleasure-mate.

You know his secrets, too. Kenjaku was very clear about his purpose and needs. But you stay for glimpses of the other man, moments where he brushes up against you, feeds his cock into your cunt, and makes you orgasm at least once. Moments where he hums while eating, though you’re not sure of it’s because he enjoys the food or he’s thinking deeply about something. You hope it’s the former, but don’t have the courage to ever ask.

Hands push at your legs, spreading them further apart. “Easy, easy,” you whisper, and it’s acknowledged. Kenjaku would make you suffer if you spoke to him in such a way, but the other man just inches back, swiping his fingers over your clit and rubbing at it leisurely.

You wonder what the other man went through before all of this, who he was, and if he loved anyone. Kenjaku isn’t capable of love, but you know there must have been someone for the other one.

Does he think of her when he’s fucking you? Or does Kenjaku suppress him enough that he doesn’t remember his past?

“Who were you?” The fingers on your clit stop moving. You freeze. When nothing happens, blood pounds loudly in your brain, and you turn around to look at the man behind you.

His eyes are empty, hollow. He looks as if you’d cast a spell on him, somehow entranced him with three little words. When he finally does speak, he does it slowly, like he’s measuring his words carefully.

“I can’t remember.”

His cock goes soft, and you look down with displeasure. It’s only a matter of time before Kenjaku comes back.

“Sorry,” you whisper, adjusting so you’re facing him. “I didn’t mean to…” You lean forward to try and kiss the man, but he doesn’t kiss you back. He just stares off into space, as if you’ve broken him with your questions. Seconds later, the face shifts into an angry stare that’s focused in on you.

“You ruined it.” You flinch and scoot back, trying to get away from Kenjaku before he ensnares you in his grip once more and tosses you off the bed. You land on your shoulder, but you bite back crying out in pain. That will get you no mercy. “You must be so disgusting to him that he no longer gets hard.” Kenjaku’s mouth curls up in a scowl before he spits on you, the glob running down your exposed arm.

Your tears come quickly, and you lay on the floor obediently. “A kicked dog should never get up a second time,” Kenjaku had told you once.

The light in the room is long gone when you get up and move to clean yourself off. Kenjaku is also gone, and the only evidence you have of the other man is the slick still nestled between your pussy lips at the memory of his fingers on your skin.

[smirk-mode]

The true strength of Back to Earth

From rewatching BTE again a few days ago, it’s made me appreciate once again how good this special actually was and I get a bit irritated when so many people in the Red Dwarf fandom deride it simply because it’s not as funny as other installments in the series (spoiler alert – they were purposefully trying something different with BTE – it wasn’t a sitcom. Yes, it was in many ways a Blade Runner parody but it was also more than that, and it was also trying to be more than just a comedy).

For me it’s the storyline with Lister that really makes it worth watching, coupled with how this Despair Squid is far more intelligent and cunning than the one from Back to Reality.

The Squid from back to reality uses simple tactics to try and kill the boys. It makes Cat think he’s a dork, Rimmer a homeless alcoholic with no-one to blame but himself, Kryten a murderer, and Lister a fascist and a mass murderer. Quite quickly they all decide they’d rather be dead than live in that world… But because the illusion this Despair squid created was so thin, they’d probably have twigged they were in an illusion if they’d stuck around any longer.

This second Despair squid is far smarter though. She doesn’t actually want to kill the boys - but she does want them all thoroughly ensnared for a long time so she can escape without a trace. Ultimately, she doesn’t actually care if her victims succumb, so long as by the time everyone does comes round, she’s either legged it, or has made sure she’s not being threatened (which is exactly what happens as they decided to release her at the end of the special).

She’s taken the time to thoroughly psychoanalyse the boys, in particular Lister, and you can view the Bartikovsky, fake Kochanski and other characters as being her avatars through which the boys interact directly with the squid. She starts working on Lister immediately, sensing where he’s at mentally, and what’s on his mind:

Bartikovsky: Adjustment on command structure is essential if one day Lister is to regenerate human race, huh? Lister: Result. You beauty!

As an audience we’re meant to read this at surface-level – Bartikovsky is taking over the ship so that Lister can get laid… But Lister isn’t that a simple character. Rather this comment is a clue to one of the things that’s weighing on his mind – the fact he’s the last human and can do little about it, but still somehow feels responsible.

Elsewhere Bartikovsky sets about tearing strips off Rimmer. This is either because she’s sensed that Rimmer actually kind of enjoys this (he definitely has some sort of punishment kink..), or more likely she's trying to make him realise how badly he's been failing his bunkmate in recent times. It's here that she slips in this line in relation to Lister:

Bartikovsky: It's tragedy. His body lives but inside he is dead.

Again, reading it on a surface level, or with the level of knowledge the audience currently has about the situation at this point, and you could be forgiven for believing that this is a driven career woman trying to understand the habits of an unambitious slob and coming to the conclusion there's something wrong with him... In reality it’s a genuine observation from the squid, who, having recognised how dire Lister’s mental state is, is actually concerned for him (again, this squid’s not actually interested in killing the crew, she just wants to escape by distracting them…).

Having made such a direct observation, she again focuses her attention on Rimmer, angry that the person closest to Lister hasn’t actually noticed his bunkmate’s ongoing mental health crisis.

Bartikovsky: This is your fault. You kill him […] You responsible for his life but you do nothing. You think only of you.

At this point the squid subtly changes tactics. Rather than suddenly being the senior officer so they can somehow find a way to continue the human race, she instead now tells Lister she’s sending him back to Earth to find a mate. She has another go at Rimmer, telling him to get his affairs in order before she essentially nukes him. It’s clear having read the boys minds that she absolutely cannot stand Rimmer!

When they eventually all gather on the deck at Bartikovsky’s order so she can open a portal to Earth, Lister, the eternal optimist, says this:

Lister: Something always goes wrong. I’m not building me hopes up.

If we hadn’t already seen the scene at the memorial, most long-term viewers would flag this up as being out of character, this is Dave “we’re gonna get through this” Lister. He’s the optimist because Rimmer is usually pessimistic enough for everyone!

Moments later the squid enacts the next bit of her plan – she tells everyone that none of them actually appear to exist, helping frame up what’s going to happen when they reach ‘Earth’. This part of her plan is just buying time, but along the way it’s possible to see what her other aim – other than buying time for an escape – was.

(Cue all the nonsense at John Lewis – my least favourite bit of BTE. Incidentally they cut the best scene from this segment!)

At this point though, the squid already has Lister hook, line and sinker. He’s just happy to be back on Earth, and too happy to analyse the situation properly. But this isn’t enough for the squid. She has an ulterior motive that pays off for both her and the Boys – she sends them on a quest to find their creator to plead for more life, while buying more time for herself.

Looking for their creator, the boys now head to a sci-fi store (as you do), where they meet the owner of the shop - another avatar of the squid. This is when the boys find out they have a fan club!

(Also, the inclusion of the bathtub here is rather smart. It lets us know that Kochanski decided to sneak off the ship while Lister was in the bath, which is why he’s in the bath when Kryten tells him that she’s been killed. Lister runs out of the bath to do something (confirm she’s alive or something) and is so distraught when Kryten confirms that she’s dead, that he completely forgets about the bath and spirals into grief and depression… And nine years later the overflowing bathtub destroys Holly).

As well as learning about the fan club, the shop owner gives them a copy of SFX and sends them on the next part of their wild goose chase – on a bus to visit the props guy – also an avatar of the squid – but along the way Lister meets the two kids on the bus… who are also avatars of the squid and are actually the reason for this part of their quest - and not the props guy.

The conversation with the kids is critical for Lister’s character. Absolutely critical. The squid in the guise of the two kids begins to help Lister rebuild himself – cluing him in to the fact that Kochanski is in fact alive, and that he’s “pretty cool” and “quite brave”. But like the rest of the crew, they also thinks he’s “disgusting”. Here the squid also gives him ample reason to change his ways, elaborating that Kochanski couldn’t bear to watch him slowly destroy himself:

Boy: Kryten made it up. Lister: Why would he do that? Girl: You were a mess, falling apart. Boy: Drinking, being daft. Girl: She couldn’t bare to stay and watch you die, and you wouldn’t listen, so she took a Blue Midget and legged it. Lister: …Why would Kryten lie to me? Girl: He was only trying to save your feelings Boy: So you wouldn’t feel like a big, fat loser. You’ve been dumped!

And just after that:

Girl: Next series, try and find her Boy: And kiss her, I would! Lister: There isn’t going to be a next series. I’m a fictional character. I don’t exist. Girl: I think you exist Boy: I do too

After talking to the kids, he has a lot to think about. Are they right? Is Kochanski alive? Did Kryten lie to him? Does he exist? By this point he’s got to be mulling over his life choices. If he’d taken better care of himself, would she have stayed? How could he expect her to stick around if didn’t even care about himself?

At this point Bartikovsky catches back up with them, but the squid knows there’s no further need for this particular character, and gives Rimmer ample reason to kill her off!

Now onwards to Noseworld, and why can Lister read Chinese? Nobody nose! (I'm so sorry)

And now on to Coronation Street, which was included for two main reasons – budget and contracts. This series was funded by Dave which, although owned by the BBC, has other involved commercial partners which include ITV, and for those not in the UK, Coronation Street is an ITV property. Until the 2000s it was extremely uncommon for actors and other celebrities to do work for both the BBC and ITV simultaneously – some people would appear only on the BBC and vice versa. These days it’s much more common for stars to come and go between the two. But even when BTE aired it was still almost unthinkable to see a BBC mainstay visit the cobbles of Coronation Street.

Trivia aside, this scene is also important for Lister (and good on Craig Charles for being a sport here and running with the plotline). Lister meets the actor who plays him, a man who is famous in this reality… and he’s a mess. Lister walks away glad that he’s Lister and not Craig Charles, which makes him feel better about himself!

Also you could say in this scene that this was Craig Charles acting as the Despair Squid acting as Craig Charles!

(and I miss the Lloyd and Steve double act on Corrie)

From here the Squid is starting to run low on stalling tactics, and doesn’t put any other roadblocks in their way to meeting her penultimate avatar – the Creator - but that doesn’t mean there’s no important lines here. Quite the opposite in fact:

Lister: We want more life, smegger Creator: A series cancellation sequence cannot be revised once it is established Lister: What about all the loose ends? Me and Kochanski? Getting back home? Creator: I grew weary of you

There’s a lot in just these few lines. Lister wants to live because he realises he has unfinished business, which includes Kochanski whom he’d previously thought dead. But then there’s the creator’s ‘weary’ comment, which looks to have really upset Lister. Except Lister has just remembered that his life matters, so he’s not so much upset as he is angry…

Creator: You can never win. Accept it and die well. Lister: *nods as if conceding defeat, then lunges forward and attacks the creator, holding both sides of his head* Creator: If you kill me you moron you cease to exist! Haven’t you been following any of this?! Lister: I’ve been dead for ages man, just sitting around, getting old and fat. I never thought I had responsibility to anyone. I never thought there was anyone out there who was on my side, who wanted things to work out. We’ve got a fan club! They’ve even named a TV station after me! I was never alone, I just didn’t realise it. Now I want more life, smegger!

This is one of Lister's most important quotes in the whole series. Lister is openly admitting just how depressed he is. That prior to this squid incident he’s been sitting around waiting to die. But in the last day or so he’s found a reason to live again… and it’s part of the squid’s ultimate plan. She’s led the crew in circles while trying to find a way out of the water tank, but during this time she’s genuinely been concerned by Lister’s state of mind. It’s possible she’d been sensing the crew’s thoughts and feelings the entire time she was aboard ship, but it’s also possible she only read their minds after they came looking for her in the water tank. Either way, while saving herself, she also steps in and tries to help Lister realise he needs to help himself.

But that doesn’t mean that she values Lister’s life over her own, far from it, and that’s where her final avatar comes into play…

Not long after ‘killing’ the creator, the boys finally figure out what Cat’s little origami creations are – they’re little squid. This is all the boys need to figure out their dilemma and work a way out. But while Rimmer, Kryten and the Cat don’t look upset at the realisation, Lister immediately points out that being in this fake world doesn’t make him feel despair – it makes him feel elation. Lister decides that leaving this illusion and returning to the real world means returning to the shell of a person he’s become, and he doesn’t want that.

Lister: In here I’m somebody. It’s made me want to live again.

With her ruse rumbled, the squid knows she can’t keep the boys occupied for much longer, but to ensure her own safety, she decides to keep Lister with her for a little long (probably hoping the boys will be too preoccupied getting him to wake up back in the real world to bother with her).

And Lister, unable to cope with his depression in the real world, and presented with the possibility of a fake future with a fake Kochanski, begins to consider choosing fantasy over reality.

Lister: I can get her back again. Kids. Everything I’ve ever wanted. Kryten: But in the real world, sir, you’ll be dying. This isn’t real. Lister: It’ll feel real *cut to Rimmer and the Cat’s genuinely horrified faces* Kryten: Not in your heart Lister: I’ve got no option Krytie. This is the only chance I’ve got of getting her back again.

At this point, Kryten finally reveals the truth – Kochanski isn’t dead, and he concocted the story of her dying thinking it would be better for him to hear (it wasn’t, obviously). But even hearing that the real Kochanski isn’t dead isn’t enough anymore… By this point Lister thinks he’s found the perfect solution – he’ll get Krissie back for a little bit before he dies. He’s still ready to die here. More than ready in fact. This is basically Lister choosing suicide.

Lister: She’s in here somewhere as well, in fact she’s right behind that door and in this world she loves me. In fact in this world she’s going to love me till the moment I die.

At this point Rimmer, the Cat and Kryten’s antibodies kick in and they wake up. And realise that Lister won’t wake up. When Rimmer wakes up he looks at Lister in horror and worry. Probably with Bartikovsky’s comments ringing in his ears.

When Squid Kochanski appears she makes an interesting observation off the bat. Unlike Lister’s comments about having to stay, she’s picked up on the shred of doubt in his mind:

Squid!Kochanski: Seems you're undecided about which reality you wish to live in. Lister: I’m-m mulling it over. Squid!Kochanski: Would you mind if I ask you a question? Lister: Shoot Squid!Kochanski: In your dreams, did you kiss me? Lister nods Squid!Kochanski: Was it good? Lister, crying: I never wanted to wake up Squid!Kochanski: Then don’t

At this point the squid’s giving him two options – to take on board what he should have learned from this experience, and choose to live, or to take a convenient out by dying of thirst while in her illusion. At this point I don’t think she’s fussy which he chooses as I think she’s already realised the crew aren’t actually much of a threat to her, but she's still essentially offering Lister the chance to put himself out of his misery...

While Lister is stlll making up his mind they go for a drive. Kochanski’s dressed differently at this point so it’s probably been a day or two from Lister’s perspective. And it’s at this point he makes his mind up for good. Lister's spent enough time with Squid!Kochanski to mull over everything that's happened over the last couple of days, while also realising that the real Kochanski would never act like this illusory version (it's probably also why she's dressed so differently to the real Kochanski). And having previously said he has to stay in the illusion, he now says he has to leave.

The squid doesn’t want him to leave for obvious reasons, but there’s no real urgency about her actions anymore. Her attempt to make Lister stay is half-hearted, and perhaps still has another layer to it since she’s been secretly trying to show Lister his worth for most of this experience.

Squid!Kochanski: The real me? You’ll never get me, I’m way out of your league!

At this point, Lister finally seems to have absorbed what she’s been trying to tell him throughout the illusion, by responding to her as follows:

Lister: I thought that too, but I was wrong. Squid!Kochanski: You were right Lister: No. I’m pretty cool. I don’t take any smeg, and even though I’m disgusting, sometimes I can be quite brave Squid!Kochanski: You’ll never get me Lister: Yeah, I will!

And when Lister chooses life, squid!Kochanski doesn’t look upset at all.

The next scene is Lister waking up back aboard the ship, visibly upset, but surrounded by the boys. He instantly realises that they care because they stuck around waiting for him rather than leaving him alone.

After this, it’s ultimately Lister who makes the decision to release the squid when they get the chance, perhaps realising, at least a little bit, just what she did for him.

After leaving the cargo deck they discuss their predicament and finish off by breaking the fourth wall a bit more (newsflash: we’re not real!), with Lister having a chuckle alongside the boys… but when the rest of the boys turn to leave, his smile falls a bit. An indicator that he’s still down, but perhaps on the road to a better place.

So yeah…that was a bit of an essay, but I hope it shows how BTE was actually a bit of a high concept two-hander between Lister and the squid.

BTE might not have had as many laughs as other series, but it wasn’t trying to. Instead this was a great character study of Lister, and at last a TV canon exploration of his mental state, which couldn’t possibly be good given his circumstances in life.

I also like to think that after this, Rimmer went away and had a good long look at himself. Rimmer was at his absolutely peak of selfishness and self-absorbedness at the start of this special and he needed the squid’s reality-check (oh the irony). At the very least I hope he gave Lister a hug and told him not to scare him like that again.

[ecoamerica]

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