#wish he meets a fate worse than death

[purge-samauwu]

I don't see anyone hating jaekyung on here with the appropriate levels of furiousity that are required so allow for me to fill that void.

FUCK THIS HORSE LOOKIN MOTHERFUCKER. TWEAKIN ASS. EVERY TIME I SEE PEOPLE LUSTIN FOR THIS BAKUGOU ASS OGRE ON MY HOME AND FYP MY WHOLE MOOD RUINED. I FOUND OUT ABOUT THIS MANWHA ON A WHIM AND I WISH JUST AS EASILY AS I FOUND IT THAT IT COULD NOT EXIST. RABID DOG LOOKIN ASS. RAPIST BEIN ASS. EXTORTIN ASS. COMMITTIN 16 DIFFERENT CRIMES EACH CHAPTER. I WANT TO CHOP HIS DICK OFF AND BLEND IT THEN FORCE FEED HIM IT. DISTRIBUTER OF REVENGE PORN ASS. MADE TO BE THE GUY THAT ONE GIRL ALWAYS TELL YOU ABOUT BUT ALWAYS BACK TOGETHER WITH. BUT CRIMINAL!!!!

SAVE YA BOY!!!

Just letting my rage out. Thank you for your time🙃

[muchmorethanmoney]

I think Rosie is a key factor to understanding Alastor's outlook on friendships.

The show all but spells out that Alastor sees attachments as a weakness, from the "Great Alastor, altruist, died from his friends" line to the hints about his failed friendship with Vox and to the way the narrative immediately punishes him when he admits to Niffty that "One could get accustomed". However something sets Rosie aside from all of this. With her, Alastor is open about scheming, he allows her to touch him and even seems to bleat like a fawn when she grabs him. Their friendship seems oddly healthy for a guy who seems to think that letting people even peek through the twenty meter wall he's built around himself is a fate worse than death. So what makes Rosie different? I think what sets her aside from other attachments that Alastor might view as dangerous (such as Vox, maybe?) is that no matter how close they might be, she still has her own world and he has his. There's a safety in knowing your life won't have to change and that you're free to take any risk, ruin any bond because you're not directly putting this person in danger. Rosie is Alastor's friend, not his responsibility. That's why she's not as affected by Alastor's disappearance and welcomes him back as if he had been gone for a week. Their lives are completely separated, but they choose to meet at the borders.

I think that someone like Vox doesn't do that. Vox lives with Velvette and Valentino, they share everything, success, plans, even a living space. Heck, Velvette can go to the Overlord meeting representing the other two because that trio can speak as one. When Vox asked Alastor to "join his team", he was basically asking Alastor to remodel his life to make space for him as well. If one of the Vees fucks up, all of them fuck up ("Our model is perfection"). Alastor has his own plans, his own messes and cannot by any means be tied down to someone else. Even if he did care for Vox, in order to really be on a team with him or anyone else, he would have to drop his creepy persona which keeps him safe, he couldn't just kill people and betray others however he wished, let alone make sketchy deals with much more powerful entities. His actions would impact the ones he kept close. Vox and Alastor couldn't join forces because they have fundamentally different goals and outlooks on attachment. Vox wants codependency, Alastor has conjured up indestructible walls just to survive.

So, tl;dr: Rosie and Alastor work as friends because they seemingly agree to keep their lives separate. Vox wanted to carve a niche for himself in Alastor's life just like he had done for him, but that's just not what Alastor wants nor is able to give.

[seniaasaysstuff]

hopelessly devoted; ryomen sukuna (og form) x fem! reader.

not culturally accurate; will have aspects from both chinese culture and japanese culture tho it is based in heian era where sukuna was at the height of his power.

smut next chapter🤭

Ryomen sukuna, the king of curses. This name was known all around and was reasonably feared. People worshiped the man as if he was the second coming of Jesus. Those who were trying to curry favor with the man sent him beautiful women, including many of their daughters as concubines for sukuna.

Sukuna gladly accepted them and frequently visited the beauties. The beauties were all focused on pleasing sukuna and wished to birth him a son and elevate their status to a consort. Sukuna was like a deity to them and they believed pleasing him would bring their family luck and glory.

Now on the day, your parents were about to send you off to emperor sukuna’s palace as a concubine, your vicious sister born from concubine fed you poison in the guise of a nourishing soup.

Your concubine birthed sister thought if you were killed she would take your place and become emperor sukuna’s concubine. She didn’t anticipate that you would wake up and act like nothing happened.

In the modern world, You were drunk and ran out of the club. You didn’t expect to run onto the road in your drunken stupor and get hit by a truck.

When you woke up, you were assaulted with memories of the body you were inhibiting. You felt enraged at the way that low-birth sister and that wretched concubine pei treated you.

Since you were from the principal line, the rest of your concubine-born siblings were envious of you. You received love from your parents, and grandparents and it made them filled with jealousy.

You hated the way the body you were inhibiting was so naive. She treated the siblings like they were all birthed by the same mother. She gave away her clothes, her hairpins, and everything they wanted. You made up your mind that you were about to make these ugly bastards suffer.

You were about to enter the palace as a concubine today and you made up your mind you were going to grab the emperor’s golden thigh and make all that made the previous owner of the body suffer face a fate worse than death.

First, you had to see what kind of golden fingers you had. Since you were a gen z kid who read ancient-era novels and watched anime and Asian dramas you knew you could stir some shit up and wreak havoc.

When you heard from your parents that the man you were being gifted to as a concubine was sukuna who had quite a monstrous appearance it felt like you had hit a jackpot.

Ryomen sukuna was someone you were quite familiar with. Considering the simping you had done when the original designs of his body were released, you were very excited to see the man in the flesh.

Night time was approaching and it was time for you to be sent off in a carriage to your new home with your entire family seeing you off. Your parents and grandmother had tears in their eyes while your grandfather looked sad.

You could tell all of them didn’t want to part with you but this was something that had to be done and you understood that. The carriage reached the palace and you were ushered off to your tiny estate. You brought five dowry maids along with you. You were bestowed with two eunuchs and a maidservant.

You were given a rosewater bath and the maids dressed you up in a sexy negligee and put a huge ass wedding dress on top of that. A huge veil was placed, making you unable to see anything. The maids then left you alone in the room.

The room was dark and the only glimmer of light was from the candles.

You were squirming in excitement. You were about to meet one of your favorite anime characters even though his fraudulent behavior was questionable at times you loved him.

You yawned, feeling bored out of your mind.“When is sukuna coming? Like this is so boring. Been waiting for that guy for so long for fuck sake,” You grumbled loudly. You weren’t aware of your surroundings and failed to listen to the footsteps of someone approaching.

A deep chuckle was heard. “Did I just hear someone calling out for me?” The voice crooned, making you squeak.

“Aww is my concubine shy?” Sukuna spoke in a low voice. You shyly nodded.

“Words love.” He softly said. “M’not shy,” you replied, your face covered in a red hue.

Sukuna removed the veil from your face and gently caressed your cheek. “Your father didn’t lie when he said you were beautiful.” He whispered as he softly tilted your chin upwards.

You gasped, “You think I’m beautiful?” Hearing one of your favorite characters say that you’re beautiful was just sending butterflies down your stomach.

You huffed, “Look at you. You're hotter than anyone on this planet well… except Toji but he doesn’t exist right now.”

You added as a second thought, “Well if you have two dicks and we can count that stomach mouth of yours then you are the best man alive.”

Sukuna let out a deep chuckle. “And pray tell how do you know about my body anatomy?”

You cursed, you should stop babbling. “I have dreamed about you a lot actually.” “Well, shall we make your dreams a reality?” Sukuna teasingly spoke. You nodded your head.

Sukuna wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled your face close to his. He rubbed his thumb on your lower lip. You were feeling a bit mischievous so you stuck your tongue out and licked his thumb.

“Sweetheart just say the word I can give you another thing to lick,” He smirked. “Oh I’d love that,” You winked at him.

“You minx,” He growled. He picked you up and sat you down on his lap, so now you were facing his humongous chest.

His stomach mouth decided to be cheeky and licked your hand, making you jump. “Pfft-” Sukuna chuckled. “Hey! It wasn’t funny!” You whined, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

Sukuna kept looking at you with that enamored look in his eyes, it made you feel shy and it made you want to run for the hills. It felt like the man was slowly getting obsessed, and if that obsession grew even deeper? You wouldn’t be able to escape, not that you wanted to.

You caressed his cheek. “You’re a beautiful being sukuna ryomen and being able to meet you was a pleasure,” you whispered.

“C’mere you sweet sweet vixen,” he spoke as he grasped your chin, tilting your head upwards so that you could look at him. His one pair of hands gently ran all over your body. You ground your body against his thigh, a feeling of bliss washing over you.

You gasped as his hand brushed over your waist, slowly and steadily making his way towards the inner of your thighs. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against your lips. His tongue brushed yours, he tasted like sweet sake.

“My sweet girl, you are a treasure,” Sukuna breathed out as he broke away from the kiss, a smile etched on his face as he glanced at you.

[luciferlightbringer]

Talk to Me

Chapter 1

Lucifer x Fem Fallen Angel Reader

Word Count:4.1 k

CW: Angst, abuse, lies, slowburn,

Chapter 1|Chapter 2 (Updated through Chapter 5)

Welcome back friends! I will be tagging all chapters now under #punching-pentagrams if the tags ever have issues or if you are looking for updates from me 😊

Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a troublemaker with “fantastical ideas” for all of creation, and was seen as such by the elders of Heaven. For they knew his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So, he was to watch as the other angels began to expand the universe in their ways.

From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam worked to take charge over his responsibility to care for Earth, and Lilith refused to work alongside him. She fled the Garden. Drawn in by her rebellious nature, Lucifer found her and troublemaker seduced her to his cause. Together, they wished to the ruin the future of humanity with their selfish dreams and ideas, offering the Fruit of Knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve, who accepted, unaware that this “gift” came with a curse. For with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into the Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his mistress into the dark pit he had created, to live out his days as the King of the cruel and the wicked.

This was the Parable of Lucifer, known by every Angel in Heaven, memorized, but rarely spoken. His name, or even the threat of falling was akin to swearing, which wasn't forbidden but it was frowned upon. For many eons, his name was rarely mentioned. That is, until the morning his daughter came to visit Heaven.

You watched that morning as Emily, the young seraphim you served under, danced around her room as she got ready that morning, singing and flitting about while talking about how excited she was to be at the the side of Sera, the High Seraphim, later at a meeting with the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith.

You listened and nodded at her excitement, trying hard to keep your own thoughts to yourself. You didn't understand how she could be so excited, being in the room with anyone related to Lucifer sounded like a fate worse than death. You were not important enough to be in the room where it all was going to go down, and you were perfectly ok with that.

"And then! Oh! What about the zoo?! Do you think they have zoos in hell? Maybe we have different animals.... Oh I'll just ask them!" Emily squealed with excitement as she brushed her hair.

You were trying so hard not to roll your eyes, why would some hellspawn want anything to do with a heaven zoo? And why did Emily insist on showing them around? It almost seemed cruel to show them around something more wonderful and beautiful than they probably had back home in their dark pit of evil. But it couldn't be helped, that is just who Emily was. Kind and full of desire to make people happy.

You were a "right hand man" of sorts to Emily, a sort of "lady in waiting" or "aid", and had been ever since the beginning of her time as the Seraphim of Joy. You enjoyed a higher status, that was marked by your four wings, but not as many as Emily's six, which marker he status as a seraphim. You liked being by her side, she was sweet and playful. It was her job to keep the people of Heaven happy, and it was your job to assist her in that. She was gentle and kind, and that made your job easy. She treated you as an equal, even if she didn't need to, you were happy to serve her.

"Sounds great, my lady, I hope you guys have fun," you say trying to hold back any sass you wanted to add to your comment in response to the idea of her field trip with the Princess of Hell.

Emily looked at you with a smile, "Oh! You're coming with us, of course. Aren't you?"

You held a strained smile, of course she would want to include you.

"Oh... I wish I could. But I can't I have plans," you responded coolly.

"Plans? Like what?" Emily pouted.

"Well... there uhhh... there is the updates to the Golden Girls theme park! Now that Betty is here, I figured it was important to meet with her and make sure it is correct...ya know... get her ideas..." you start.

Emily floats over and grabs your hands, "Oh but that can wait, can't it? Pleeeeease? This is so exciting and I want my best friend their with me!" She gave you big puppy dog eyes.

You can't help but feel a little shy when she calls you her best friend, you were honored that she thought of you as a friend, but you knew that was not your place, even though you had been by her side for several thousand years. It wasn't forbidden for you two to be friends, just... discouraged. Due to the difference in status. You sighed, she knew you couldn't say no to her when she got all pouty and pulled the "best friend" card.

"Alright, alright! I'll go... Just... Please don't expect me to be all buddy-buddy with them? I mean no disrespect, my lady... The idea of having beings of Hell in Heaven just... makes me nervous..." you nervously confess to Emily.

Emily smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "Yay! Oh (y/n), it's going to be ok! How about this? If you get uncomfortable, you can flap your wings quickly twice and I'll give you a reason to leave, ok?"

"But won't that leave you alone with them? What if they should try to harm you?" you say with worry in your voice.

Emily squeezes your shoulders, "It will be fine. Come on! We are gonna be late!" Emily grabs your hand and she half drags you out the door and out the the main plaza to meet up with Sera before going to welcome the guests from hell. You bow respectfully to Sera in greeting and wait as Emily and Sera fly out to the front gate while you wait inside with Sera's aid, Lily, who also had four wings like you. You rarely talked to Lily, but she was also nice, more serious like her seraphim she served.

"How is your lady feeling about the meeting?" Lily asked calmly, looking forward instead of at you.

"Very excitedly, as is her nature. Almost a little too excited, but that is not my place to tell her, of course. And what of your lady?" You asked Lily.

She shook her head, "Nervous, but collected. She was very distressed by Lucifer's request for his daughter to meet with the council of Elders. Her ideas sound... preposterous, and dangerous. Just like her father's," she responded flatly, her nose crinkling slightly.

"What ideas?" you ask.

Lily looked around for any nearby souls before leaning close and whisper, "Something about trying to redeem souls to get them to give them a second change in heaven."

You blinked, what? She is trying to redeem the souls of sinners? "Is that even possible?"

Lily shrugged, "It is not our place to ask such things, besides, we have no idea why they would want to try that. It sounds fishy to me, and I think it sounds fishy to Sera, too. We have a system in place for a reason."

"Of course, that does seem silly to try to change things," you go back to your neutral stance and start to think. The daughter of Lucifer wants to redeem souls? Why? That seems like a good thing to try to do? But how could they prove they were actually "redeemed" to even attempt something like that. As far as you knew, this had never been done before. This thought left you with so many questions, that from that point on would start to unravel your very understanding of everything you thought you knew.

Eventually you see the gates open and Sera and Emily enter with two others, a girl with long white hair, wearing an eye patch, named Vaggie, and a young woman with long blonde hair in a ponytail and a red suit, who was introduced to you as Charlie Morningstar, the daughter of Lucifer. You wanted to focus on the Morningstar child but... something about the other one seemed off about the other one, especially in the way she looked at all of you. Specifically she looked... uncomfortable? That seemed like such an odd way to react to Heaven. But maybe a place this beautiful was just hard for a demon like her to feel comfortable in. A pity.

You shifted your attention back to Charlie, you were only briefly introduced as Emily's aid, she greeted you warmly and then went back to talking with Emily and Sera. You liked it this way, it gave you a chance to just watch this daughter of Lucifer at a distance. As you toured Heaven with them, you were surprise by how sweet and bubbly she came off. She talked, mostly with Emily, about how excited she was about the meeting and looked in awe at everything she came across in Heaven. Your face remained a pleasant neutral, but you were processing everything through the lens of what you had been told about Lucifer and the information given to you by Lily about her reason for being here. What was her deal?

Eventually, Charlie and Vaggie were set up in their room, and Vaggie decided to stay at the hotel while Charlie went off with you and Emily to the zoo, and Sera and Lily went off to prepare for the meeting. Great... now there was more of a chance that you would have to interact with the Morningstar child, but you were good at remaining pleasant and neutral. You stayed to Emily's right while Charlie walked on Emily's left as they went through the zoo. Luckily, the Princess of Hell was more interested in fawning over the animals than paying attention to how little you were interacting with her. You exchanged some pleasantries and small talk when addressed, but not much beyond that.

The longer you were around her, the more curious she made you. She didn't act at all like how you expected a hellspawn would act. You know you shouldn't be making assumptions but... something was not adding up. How could this be the spawn of the most hated and dangerous being in all of creation? Either she was a very very very good actor, spinning colorful and exciting tales to disarm her victims and seduce them to her side... or somehow... despite having such an awful and cruel creature of a father... this young woman had an actual passion and love for others. You were worried at how much you felt like you wanted to agree with the latter, especially with how in-sync her personality fell with Emily's. You tried to shake the questions out of your head, again it was not your place to ask such questions.

Before long, it was time for their meeting with the angelic Council of Elders, which meant it was your time to separate from Emily and the Princess. You bid them a farewell and went off to take care of that meeting with Betty White to make any additions or suggestions to the theme park. You had a pleasant meeting with her, luckily there were only a few additions that needed to be made, so you were able make note of them with the construction team and get back to Emily's suite to prepare her some tea for her when her meeting was over.

Before long you heard the quick open and shut of the door, signaling that Emily had returned home, "Welcome back, my lady Emily! How was..." you stopped as you heard the sounds of... something you had never heard before... little sounds in quick secession that would get quieter, she'd breathe in, and then the quick secession of sounds would happen again, but starting louder and growing softer.

You peaked out around the corner to see Emily curled up on the floor right next to the door, face in her hands, making her little sounds. You had heard about this, was... was she... crying? She had never seen anyone cry before. You rushed over to her side.

"My lady? Emily? What's wrong? Why do you cry?" you asked with a slight panic, you had not idea how to help her with this, you had never seen someone sad before.

She let out different higher pitched sound and shook before she looked up at you, tears rolling down her round cheeks.

"Oh (y/n), it's terrible! I'm so angry!" Emily cried.

"What's terrible? What did the Princess do? Are you hurt?" you start to look her over.

"No!" Emily cried, "It's Sera, and Adam, and Lute... They have done something terrible!"

You blinked, you had never heard her speak of her superior sister like that, and you new the First Man to be... a colorful character, but what could he have done? "What happened?"

Emily took a few breathes before looking up at you, "They have been allowing a yearly extermination on human souls in Hell to control the overpopulation down there... Adam has an army of angels that go down with him to kill and erase human souls!"

You sat back a little, taking in the news, "Wait... why... That does not make any sense... why would they do something like that?"

Emily let more tears fall, "It's how they control the overpopulation of souls, trying to keep them from thinking about uprising against Heaven... that's why Charlie was here. She's trying to redeem souls into heaven so that we would stop killing them. She-she's just trying to protect her people, and we have just been slaughtering them! For... centuries!"

You sat in silence as Emily continued to freak out and cry, this was the worst thing you had ever heard of. How could heaven allow something like this?! Sure, the sinners had all earned their place in Hell, and they needed to stay in their place... but the does not mean anyone should be erasing them!

"Who could have allowed this?" you ask quietly.

"Sera..." Emily snarled, you look up at her, and she looks at you... with anger in her eyes, it made you jump, "Sera allowed this it happen, and what's worse... she kept it from everyone! From the rest of the Elders... from me... Only Sera, Adam, and his army of angel exorcists know... The rest of us were in the dark..."

You just sat there on the floor next to her, trying to breathe, trying to work through the thoughts and feelings in your body, this was bad... this was... really bad. You never knew this try of bad could exist, not here, not in Heaven, and you felt it all over your body. Your chest felt tight, your thoughts were racing, everything was a blur.

You looked at the young angel next to you, "What do we do now, my lady?"

Emily's expression went serious and she sat up straight looking at you, "This can't be a secret anymore, we must tell everyone."

Your eyes widened, "E-everyone? Even the human souls? My lady... I don't know if..."

Emily got up, "Yes! Everyone! They have been keeping this secret from everyone! They are breaking one of God's base commandments! Now that we know we must tell the truth! Everyone must know!"

You get up to meet her, "But... that would cause an upheaval! What if..." you change to a whisper "What if this causes you to fall? Like Lucifer?"

Emily shook her head, "If something like this is what caused his fall... then maybe there is more behind his fall than they told us in the first place..." She looked at you, "After hearing Charlie... it's worth the risk... I need to do this. Are you with me, or not?" Emily grabbed your hands.

You froze in place. Do you defy Emily, your seraphim that you are sworn to serve and support? Or do you go against something that you know will make the elders unhappy, and risk both you and her falling? You knew this look on her face, there was not talking her out of it at this point.

You sigh, "Ok... I'm with you." She smiled and hugged you, and you hugged her back. You had not idea what was going to happen next, but you couldn't bear the thought of not supporting her. It's all you knew.

You spent the rest of the night planning with Emily on how you were going to get the word out to the people. Unfortunately for the both of you... Sera had been worried about Emily's outburst in support of Charlie and went to go check on her. Emily was not watching her volume, no matter how much you reminded her, so before knocking, she was able to hear Emily talking out some ideas out with you. With a heavy and broken heart, Sera went to go alert the rest of the Elders.

The next morning, you and Emily did not have a chance to start telling anyone before Emily was brought to stand trial before the Council of Elders. You were brought with to stand witness for the conversation you had with her. Emily fought and cried, angry tears running down her face as she pleaded for the safety and protection of the people of Hell, quoting how the Elders were breaking commandments. The Elders responded of how they were doing what they needed to do to maintain the order in Heaven, and Emily teared back about how they were only proving Charlie's point about "angel's getting to do whatever and remain in the sky" while the people of hell suffered by Heaven's hand. Sera warned Emily not to press but she didn't care, saying if this was the truth that she no longer wanted to be the Seraphim of Joy.

"If you don't stop this now, you may soon not be a seraphim at all!" one of the Elders warned.

Adam sat over on the side, grinning. He was quieter than yesterday, he was trying to play nice after his major slip up the day before when he revealed the existence of the exterminations, but he was still enjoying watching the drama. Sera looked over to you, eyes pleading with do something to stop this. You looked over at Emily. There was only one way you could see getting her out of this, it wasn't going to be pleasant, but it was all you could do.

You stood up and looked over to the council, starting to cry and shake, "I'm sorry! I'm so... so sorry, my great Elders!" You whole room was looking at your now, even Emily.

"Please... please do not blame her! It was my fault! I... I was so excited to see the Princess of Hell, know why she was here. I know I wasn't allowed at the meeting... but I still stood outside of the door and listened! I couldn't bear the news! I've gone mad! Emily came back and didn't want to talk about it... but I did! I made her! I filled her head with ideas of telling the people of Heaven the truth! The angels deserve to know! It's barbaric! All of you refused to listen to Charlie and I can't stand that!" you say grabbing your hair. "Please! Emily is innocent of everything besides being to close to me! Please spare her! Punish me instead!"

"(y/n) what are you doing?!" Emily cried.

"I'm telling them the truth, my lady! Don't try to cover this up for me. You've suffered enough!" you cried, flying down to the floor and standing in front of Emily, fanning out your wings to block her, "Punish me instead! I should fall for my madness! My lady Emily has done nothing wrong! Punish me for my sympathy for Lucifer and his daughter!"

Sera frowned, looked at the others, and shook her head, "What a shame, but not unexpected from you, unfortunately." That comment almost made you flinch, what did that mean? Sera looked to the others, who all nodded at her and looked at you with distain.

"Very well," she said, lifting a hand to prompt two other angels to remove Emily from the floor, leaving only you in the middle, all eyes on you. "(y/n), for your attempt of treason against Heaven and attempted corruption of a seraphim, you have fallen from Grace and will be cast into Hell."

You give Emily one last look as she screams, whispering a goodbye to her. A portal opens up in front of you, giving you a clear but distant view of the rings of hell. Intense fear flooded your body for the first time. You take a step back, only to be stopped by Adam who had flown over an landed behind you, a wicked grin on his face.

Behind you he whispered "See you on extermination day", before breaking off one of your wings and kicking you into the pit, the sound of your screams of pain mixed with his laughter as you began to fall.

What an absolute piece of shit.

Most of your fall was spent in searing pain from your one missing wing, the other three fluttering in the wind as hell grew closer, golden blood oozing from your new wound, your first wound ever. You cried the whole way... out of pain, out of fear, out of hope that you saved Emily from this fate, out of confusion...

As you got closer, you felt more pain sear through your body, but for a different reason. You watched as you hands stared to turn into black claws, horns sprouted from your temples, a tail lashed out behind you, eyes watering as they changed to red, some of the feathers of your wings burned red. More tears burned down your cheeks as you fell, mixing in with some feelings of... anger? You wish that Emily had not dragged you into this... but it was your job to serve her... and you did it until your falling day... Who knew what awaited you in hell. The second fallen angel in all of history...

You realized then, yes, would would be the second fallen angel, would Lucifer seek you out if he found out another angel had fallen? You wanted to avoid that at all costs. As the ground grew nearer, you knew you had two choices, use your wings to ease your fall and risk being seen, or tuck them away and have a much harder hit but hide your identity as an angel. You swallowed hard as you forced your wings to tuck away. It was something angels could do, but it was not common, as it was more comfortable to keep them out.

You were almost to the red floor of the Pride Ring. God Above, this was going to hurt... You braced yourself as you plummeted into the hard rock of the upper part of the ring, making a small intend in the ground from the length and power of your fall. Your body seared with more intense pain, bones were definitely broken, but by some grace you were still barely conscious.

After catching some amount of breath, you looked around. With as much information as you could process at the moment, it looked like you had landed on some old battle ground near the edge of the ring. At least some luck was still on your side. With one good arm and leg, you clawed and crawled your way across the red brimstone ground, leaving a trail of golden blood, before finding a pile of stones that were set in just a way that you could hide. Probably something someone had built for cover at some point.

With the last of your energy, you crawled into the hole, took off your robe, and stuffed it under your head as your felt yourself suck into unconsciousness.

_____________________________________________________________

Hello! Just wanted to let everyone know that this one will have less of a back and forth between Lucifer and y/n's point of view, it will still have that, but it will be a lot more focused on y/n until they meet. Also it might take a little before they meet, but we will get there! Let me know if you want added to the taglist!

Taglist:

@sapphireravensworld @cimadreamer @froggybich @randomstranger703 @tiredlillypad @melday0105 @btsgangleader @hawke1917 @gbshdhd @pandaquick @littleladydemon @wonderlandangelsposts @hulyenl @willow404

[belovedivies]

Hi its my first time I request

Can you do Raphael from killer Peter manhwa

Like when he get jealous or how did he fell in love

Im sorry if my english was bad

raphael relationship headcanons

cw: minor spoiler, yandere content

LOVE?

Raphael doesn’t “fall in love”. If he takes a liking to someone, they are automatically his property. No questions asked.

With you, however, who neither end up as another dead body in line for cremation nor a slave to his ever-expanding collection… it almost seems like Raphael goes easy on you.

That being said, he’s far from an ideal guy to be around. Your ears will most likely blast from hearing him shout at his underlings every few minutes of the day.

Your presence does help to ease the tension a bit though, and it won’t take as long for Raphael to direct his attention towards you and just forget about his useless lower-ranks.

Royalty treatment to the max, but only when you behave. This man has the most influential organization on Earth in the palm of his hand—you won’t want for anything else when he’s around.

Between the constant chase for Peter’s head and the killers' recruitment to rebuild Glory Club from the ground up, Raphael burns his money on you. Want that special edition of your favorite book but it’s unfortunately sold out? He’ll get it printed as many times as you want, all with your name on the leather cover in goldwork embroidery.

Just thank him after. Give him a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek; Raphael prefers his toy sweet and obedient.

JEALOUS?

Raphael gets jealous, that’s for sure. It’s just something that comes naturally for a love-deprived child.

His servants know better than to stare; longer than five seconds and it’s an instant death. This man will whisper sweet nothings into your ear while his subordinate lies there on the floor, dying in the pool of their own blood.

He likes to think that his possessiveness isn’t that bad. Can you really blame Raphael for going barbaric when one of the Apostles flirts with you during a meeting, right in front of his face?

And the motherfucker even has the audacity to look so smug about it.

With a territorial growl, Raphael pulls you into his lap right after; his hands around your hips feeling like the grip of an anaconda.

“Last warning, Philip.” Before he eventually joins the pile of unnamed bodies down the pit, that is.

Rumors soon go in cycle within Glory about the nature of your relationship with this unpredictable man.

For a plaything, Raphael does favor you a lot. No one can actually tell how long this will go on, or what tragedy shall befall your pitiful existence once the fun is up and he stabs you in the back, literally.

But for now, you’re still untouchable because you’re his. And men or God shall lay a hand on you unless they wish to suffer a fate worse than death.

♡dividers credit: @xurengu0♡ ♡masterlist♡ a/n: lmao this was a really unexpected ask (no complaints tho) (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖) fyi im not taking any requests yet, but i cooked this one up fast for u. hope u enjoy reading, my lovely yuri ◕‿↼

[halcyonfawn]

the meaning behind "face the raven" theme in "wild blue yonder" and more

a continuation of this post. i need to talk about this otherwise i'll explode.

some people have also said that this theme is playing in "last christmas" and "hell bent" (thank you for pointing that out, i'm going to die) which makes it all even worse (better). therefore, this post is, more or less, destined to turn into capaldi's era brainrot. but not all of it, i promise.

you've been warned.

first of all, allow me to refresh your memory. let's look into the context of the scenes where we heard this music theme before.

"last christmas"

according to series 8 official soundtrack, this theme is a part of "every christmas is last christmas" and is heard quite clearly two times. they're both important scenes for the doctor and clara.

too late.

a moment full of regrets and nostalgia. the doctor thinking he's lost clara again, wishing he would have come back sooner. clara reminicing her life without the doctor in it.

"so no one matched up to danny, eh?" "there was one other man, but that would never have worked out." "why not?" "he was impossible."

it is (heavily) implied that "one other man" is the doctor. does the doctor himself realise that she's talking about him? open for interpretation. but what this small exchange truly does is showing a game of saying something without actually saying it.

"can you really see no difference in me?" "clara oswald, you will never look any different to me."

yet another way of dancing around words. there's something special and touching about this last line. it is sort of a confession of unconditional love. but the word itself - love - is never spoken out loud.

then again, twelfth might be face blind.

second chances.

now, this scene is a complete opposite of the one mentioned above. it's full of hope, anticipation, happiness. a beginning of a new arc. he is given a second chance and he takes it. the doctor asks clara to run away with him once again. and she says "yes" without hesitation, takes his hand, kisses him on the cheek.

conclusion? these two scenes are focused entirely on the doctor and clara's relationship. it is there to show their strong connection, how much they mean to one another. utter devastation at the thought of their time ending and the absolute joy of reuniting after being separated. a chance at a happy ending. which also makes the music that plays on the background their theme.

"face the raven"

"every christmas is last christmas" is now turned into "face the raven" and is asocciated with clara's death. it also makes the previous name even more heartwrenching since last christmas was literally clara and doctor's last hurrah. we can hear this piece of music appear in two scenes as well.

clara's monologue about facing the raven.

"if danny pink can do it so can i. die right. die like i mean it, face the raven. maybe this is what i wanted. maybe this is it. maybe this is why i kept running. maybe this is why i kept taking all those stupid risks, kept pushing it."

she's accepting her fate and aknowleges her recklesness all the way throught the season 9. it was meant to be. there wasn't enough space for two doctors in the tardis.

"i let you get reckless" "why? why shouldn't i be reckless? you're reckless all the bloody time! why can't i be like you?" "clara, there's nothing special about me. i'm nothing but less breakable than you. i should've taken care of you."

this scene is also about how a human life can be so very short compared to the time lord's and how easily it can end. it's fragile. and it's the doctor's curse: bearing the pain of losing his loved ones.

clara meeting her fate.

as she approaches the raven, ever so brave, the doctor watches her. he hears clara scream, then witness her collapsing onto the ground. it is extremely painful, but this is, i repeat, the doctor's curse: watching his companions leave. there's no use in running away from that pain, it haunts him every step of the way.

"hell bent"

next time, "face the raven" theme can be heard during the memory wipe sequence. there is no name given for the background music in this particular moment, but it's quite obvious it represents loss and... letting go?

the doctor is about to make clara forget their time together (does that ring a bell, anyone?).

it is worth pointing out that the music becomes the loudest at the exact moment the doctor says:

"look how far i went for fear of losing you. this has to stop. one of us has to go."

it is the culmination of their relationship. companions that push each other to extremes. together they might destroy the whole universe in order to keep each other safe. there's no other way but to separate. they've formed such a strong connection than one is ought to forget the other.

even though at first the doctor is determined to wipe clara's memories, he then admits she is right: it is unfair to take away all that wonderful time they had from her. so he gives her a choice. or, more like, an offer to play a russian roulette. it's either you or me. i'm not going to press that button. we will do this together.

to summarise: all of these moments featured a strong connection between clara and the doctor. it also tells us a story about how hard it is to lose someone you care about deeply, especially for the doctor.

how is it all connected to the doctor and donna?

memory wipe

the doctor has to make donna and clara forget about him in order to keep them safe. expect that he doesn't give donna a choice, wiping her memory almost instantly, without saying a proper goodbye to her. obviously, he didn't have enough time to think of a better way to solve the problem since donna wouldn't have lasted long. however, it is still a decision he regrets making.

from "the star beast":

"i'm so glad you're back, donna. it killed me, it killed me, it killed me."

if we take a look at clara's situation, it's a bit different. i've already mentioned it above: at first, the doctor wants to do the same thing to clara that he did to donna. make her forget. expect, this time he is confronted for doing so (even threatened, at some point).

"these have been the best years of my life and they're mine."

i think this line triggers something in the doctor. because this is when he realises that this is not the right thing to do. not exactly. he'd already done it once and he regretted it. so this time, he offers a slightly different solution. someone still has to forget, but they'll press that button together. it's a mutual choice.

now, i know it's not entirely related to the dialogue in "wild blue yonder", but i think it's worth mentioning that donna and clara's stories are somewhat similar. i'm sure it's been said before, but it's still important.

donna's story was incomplete because she wasn't given a choice. now, that she remembers, 14th doctor makes sure their time together is worth-while. a second chance just like in "last christams".

too alike

another similarity between these two stories is that clara and donna are not entirely humans. not anymore.

donna's half timelord. even though her head is still not big enough to fit all the doctor's memories, she still has a part of the doctor in her.

clara's frozen in time, that makes her practically immortal. she risks her life, she reverses the polarity of the neuroblock, she gets her own tardis, she's even reffered to as "clara who" at the end of "hell bent". she has become the doctor in a sense.

but there can only be one doctor. so where's the story heading to at this point, i wonder? but we'll come back to this question later.

"but what really happened?"

before i say anything, it is obvious that the doctor's silence before and after he says "a lot" is him reminicing all that'd happened to him during the 11th, 12th and 13th reincarnations. all of the loss and pain he went through.

but why "face the raven" theme of all things? it could be a general theme of grief/nostalgia/painful memories, nothing else implied.

but please let me be delusional for a bit longer!

just as that scene in "hell bent" brought the doctor back to the moment he made donna forget him, could it be that bringing back his best friend's memories in a whole universe that "he absolutely loves", also reminded him of another important person in his life with similar story? just like "hell bent" mirrored "the journey's end", "wild blue younder" gave us a reference to "hell bent".

this is where we get back to the question about the current story direction.

foreshadowing?

donna's story is not over. and there are a lot of possibilities how it can end.

say, there is a connection to clara's story here, i wonder if that's where the plot's heading. in one of the trailers, the doctor does say "i'm not sure if i can save you this time" to donna. and it worries me. then again, maybe they're just tricking us into thinking something bad will happen (oh the drama).

i'd say it's unlikely donna's going to die because that would be absolutely devastating after just bringing her back. at the very least, the ending wouldn't be completely "happily ever after". perhaps, sacrifices will be made in order to prevent something truly horrible from happening.

why did this face come back?

in "the girl who died" twelfth doctor finally realises why he got his face. it is a call-back to "the fires of pompei" (don't even get me started on its being the episode with 10th and donna).

the message the doctor was giving to himself turned out to be:

"i'm the doctor and i save people!"

but what is 14th trying to tell himself?

i think it's about donna and more.

he's fixing his mistake of erasing her memories and depriving her of the right to remember amazing things that'd happened to her.

it's a reminder to actually tell people how much they mean to him. as we can see, 14th's more open with his feelings and constantly shows signs of affection towards his loved ones, even breaking the "never say i love you" rule.

it's about being honest and open with people because they deserve to hear it from him and he deserves to hear it back. because "things happen and then it's too late".

again, take 12th doctor, for instance. he constantly represses his feelings. but in my humble opinion, the reason why he's changed by season 10 was clara. she pulled him out of the dark place. and even though her death almost threw him back to that state again, he is still a better man by season 10.

but there were things left unsaid. love and care were always there but it was never said out loud. kind of the same thing happened with 13th.

i strongly believe that donna is that person for 14th. they're best friends who love each other deeply. and after the doctor lost her and got a second chance to fix everything, he does, he's being affectione. he's finally open with his feelings.

conslusion: why did you make us read all fo this?

to answer the question in the title: it's all tied with how memories are important and priceless, fixing past mistakes, moving on and learning to treasure every moment with people you care about like it's your last.

it can also be a foreshadowing for something terrible, but i choose to hope for the better.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

aaaand that is the end of my doctor who rant. thank you for getting this far, if you did!

my feelings about all of this can be described with this one meme:

[forever--darling]

request: and for anakin I love the idea of how he comforts his girl. hugs, nicknames, cuddling together.

summary: being in the midst of a war came with many problems, but you had never accounted for the possibility of your general anakin skywalker being one of them, especially when a specific nurse seems to be all over him

pairings: general!anakin x jedi!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings/notes: swearing, mentions of war, mentions of death, jealous!reader, fluff, mentions of sex, 501st clone trooper battalion, forbidden love

masterlist

It appeared almost out of thin air, like a billowing blow that seemed to almost knock you on your ass. It was worse than the battle you somehow had survived only a few hours before, sure to be stuck in the same predicament again soon. After all, when in an active warzone, it was always the reality, the scenery unable to escape but practically tattooed across your skin. It was means for disaster, of a bleakness that was sure to leave you depressed at night as you lay awake listening to the constant gunfire and screams from men and women meeting their fates. 

That deserves your full attention, your care, and yet something else had appeared. It made you feel guilty, like a horrible person, at the way your heart tightened and ached. How had it come to be? 

This thick grimy green monster that had latched upon your shoulders, interfering with the only mission you had been focused on for months. When you were assigned to the 501st Clone Trooper Battalion, you hadn’t even thought of the possibility, the mere ability to let your guard down, have it risk ruining everything. And yet there you were, in complete inept with your General, with a man you had been pulled towards as if the force was willing it to occur. 

You wished then you could have run, somehow been taken captive, at least to save your heart from falling into the same fate. Captive she was, but not by the Separatist enemies; no, it was so much worse. It jeopardized everything it meant to be a Jedi, a knight, a warrior of the Republic. 

It appeared, and now suddenly, it was all you could feel. Even more so as you found her delicate hands brushing along his bicep, eyes surveying the minimal cuts that littered his perfect skin, mixing within the dirt. Blood dried, but marks that would remain for most likely the rest of his life. As she did her job, you surveyed from the corner of the tent, the large tan tent you had spent a few nights in yourself, staring at the ceiling as a lamp crowded the darkness in the softest of golden light. 

It felt diminished in some way as her eyes, so doe-like, innocent, unwilling to be caught up in a war, stared up at him through her lashes. A blush appeared on her cheeks, the same soft pink that you had so clearly seen even that first day when she had met him. She was smitten with the general, and you had never cared, and yet at that moment, you felt the rage swell in your chest. 

He wasn’t paying attention, not to the way she oggled him or the small smile that appeared every time she noted the muscles of his bicep. He was too busy staring down at the latest casualty report one of the other soldiers had brought to him. It was long, at least five pages, three pages longer than it had been for most of the course of the time you had been here. Names and ranks littering them, sure to fade into the road of forgotten ones, only to be kept alive by the mark they left on wherever they came from. 

Your chest ached then for a moment at the thought, but it only hardened further as you heard the nurse’s soft voice fill the tense air of the tent. “General Skywalker, I was told you experienced some impact that was quite severe along your abdomen. I’m afraid I’ll have to take a look.” 

His blue eyes snapped up to hers, that stone-coldness commonly there met her kind ones, and you hated how your stomach turned involuntarily. You huffed slightly, brows knitting in so much anger. His glare flickered over to you, but only for a second, barely surveying your stiff posture. 

He sighed then, almost of disappointment, before nodding, “Make it quick, will you?” 

“Of course,” she replied, almost too enthusiastic. 

Anakin peered back down at the list of his soldiers, but his face hardened again as the nurse cleared her throat awkwardly. He looked back up at her. 

“I’m going to need you to remove your clothing, sir.” 

He didn’t look at you again, and you felt your arms drop in defeat. You were crazy; you knew that much, but it didn’t stop you from turning on your heels and storming out of the tent. He had asked you there to go over some details of the battle, and yet the five minutes you spent standing there had you feeling so out of place even though you had spent the night there two nights before. He was silently staring down at the reports for the entirety of those few minutes, but you couldn’t care, and you couldn’t stay. Too blindsided by the anger that filled your chest, eliciting your veins on fire from the sudden rush of your blood going straight to your balled fists. 

It was something that could surely wait because you were too afraid.

Afraid if you stayed any longer, you would do something that would have the nurse talking, sure to have the rest of the troop and brigade in a state of knowing. Sure, to go back to the Republic, then you both would be in trouble because, after all, Jedi had responsibilities, a code to follow, and work to do. And attachments weren’t allowed, even in a state of sadness, even in the darkest places where it’s the only form of comfort to have. 

You found the only way to really deal with this sudden feeling that seemed to consume you was to take it out on anything you could. It was why you had gone and trained, your lightsaber stretched out, meeting the clashes of another soldier you commonly fought with. Your blows were more forceful, fueled by the sudden rush of feelings you hadn’t known you could even feel. You hated it, the way it seemed to never fade, never fall to the back of your mind even as hours passed. Instead, only the images of her possibly tracing his bare chest and stomach with her fingers remained. 

It was hours upon hours of training, trying to tire yourself into a state of exhaustion, even with the possibility of having to go off into battle at any moment. You couldn’t care, knowing this had to be gone when that time finally came. Not only for your survival, for the mission but to keep him from ever knowing. 

General Anakin Skywalker, the chosen one, the professed hero of this war, could never know. Never know of the sudden feelings that had befallen you. 

That night, you stood in your own tent, far smaller than the General’s, you were getting ready to sleep. Bathed as well as you could manage, you were bundled in clean robes, ready to succumb to the darkness of sleep; it somehow more comforting than being awake. However, as soon as you were ready to do so, a soldier appeared at your door with a message.

“The General requests your presence.” 

It had taken all day, hours, for Anakin to ask for you, to seem willing to want to talk to you, and that seemed to enrage you all over again. Perhaps, he enjoyed the comforts of the innocent nurse warming his bed rather than you. Perhaps she was some sort of light, untouched by the true grit and devastation of war, having never truly left the camp. She had not met death, had not drained life from someone so carelessly. You, on the other hand, were tainted, left in a wallowing sense of pain that only others could understand who had watched death parade day in and day out. 

Yet he had called for you, as he did most nights, but you didn’t go. 

You couldn’t. 

Something you had never done. Something no one had ever done. When the General requested you, you went, no questions asked, and yet your feet were glued to the ground. 

A half-an-hour later, it seemed he became tired of waiting because he had appeared in your doorway, the tent falling closed enough that not even a sliver of the outside world could see inside. He stood in clean black tunics, grime washed free from his delicate features, but that stern look was still apparent. 

He was so breathtaking, like sin itself. 

“I called for you,” he said, voice breaking the air, sounding demanding. 

You stood, fingers carding through your hair, pulling free a knot, back turned towards him. “Did you?” 

His furrowed look only deepened, somehow confused if the message had gotten to you or if you had chosen to ignore it, “Yes, hours ago.” 

“Hm, it seems I must have forgotten.” 

He could hear the spite in your tone, it unable to be hidden. He became frustrated at that point, “Forgotten?” 

Stepping further into the tent, he approached and you felt his presence seem to wrap around you completely, leaving your heart an aching mess. “You don’t merely forget. When your general fucking requests you, you come. Do you understand me, Y/L/N.” 

You turned then, anger palpitating, sure to burst any second as you thought of just how much you were suffering. Your knitted brows met his glare intact, “I was merely giving you time, sir. Time for you to recover, have your wounds tended to.” 

It seemed your words, paired with the spite in your tone, revealed something to him because suddenly his expression was waning, collapsing in on itself into one of wonder. A single brow raised, lips almost lifting in a smirk. His hard exterior disappeared, the General in him no longer there, but only Anakin himself. The true twenty-one-year-old man he was. 

“Seriously?” he chuckled then, spotting how your chest rose and fell in frustration. 

“What?” you spat.

He seemed to be enjoying it, evident in the way his smile only widened, a look of pure amusement appearing. “I wasn’t sure at first if I was imagining it, but damn it seems I haven’t.” 

He had caught on, you realized then. You were unable to truly hide it, not when the fear filled you of what exactly this could mean. Caring for a man this much who you were sure to never see again one way or another when this war ended. Sighing, you turned away again, unable to face him. 

“You can’t just call me whenever you need a woman to nestle yourself into, Anakin.” 

It seemed your words had pulled all air of the room, the amusement he felt somehow falling away at the way your shoulders slumped into themselves. “Y/N.” 

You couldn’t reply then, too shocked, too afraid to. 

“Baby,” he corrected himself, the name only heard at night under the stars. You hated how it felt paired with the way his hands took hold of your arms, turning you to face him again. 

You couldn’t meet his stare though, instead focusing on his shoes. 

“Look at me.” 

You denied him again. 

“Look. At. Me.” This time, his thumb and forefinger took a hold of your chin raising it so your eyes were forced to meet his, the blueness the only comfort you had found in this life. He chuckled again, “You’re cute when your mad.” 

“This isn’t funny.” You huffed then, willing to push him away but his hands stopped you, taking a firm hold of your wrists. 

“Oh, but it is. You’re so clearly jealous.” 

The word awoke something in you, because you felt your glare appear in a moment of defense. “I am not.” 

“Are you sure about that?” he goaded and you felt your entire resolve crack, it so easy when his hands traced down your sides to your hips. They rested there comfortably.

A side only you got to see of the general somehow convincing enough. 

“Does it always have to be her?” you asked then, letting it all out, “I mean, every time a nurse is requested to check you over after you return from the front, it is always her. Every fucking time, and she isn’t good at hiding it either. She is so fucking obvious with how she looks at you. How she even touches you. It’s…”

“Not anything to be worried about,” he finished then, his hand coming up to cup your cheek softly. 

Your eyes met his and softened them almost immediately. 

“You really think that I would do that to you? To us?” 

“I don’t know what to think, Anakin.”

“Why is that?”

“This is wrong, and you know it. If the Council found out, what would come of you? Of me? It seems like a lot to risk just for sex.” 

“Just sex? Since when have I ever given you that impression?” 

You couldn’t answer, somehow feeling as if the weight of the world would crush you if you did. It was all too much once again. How you felt about him, about this predicament of life that had befallen you.

“You were never and have never been just sex to me. You must know that. The way that I feel is…” 

He trailed off as if trying to find the words, find how to say the exact things he had promised himself never to say, because of the code, of his Master, of fear of what would become of him. Leaning forward, his forehead met yours, and suddenly, you could only squeeze your eyes shut, breathing unevenly. 

“When I go out on the front every fucking day, when I have to leave everything else behind to ensure that I am giving everything to these men, to this mission, to the prophecy, one thing still remains. The only comfort I have in all of this is returning so I can see you. Living for the possibility of hugging you, seeing you, kissing you. When I first convinced you to fall into my bed, it was never just for sex. It was because I felt as if you could save me. Save me from the darkness that looms too close to my heart most days.” 

“Anakin,” you whispered in disbelief, in an ache of how much you truly cared, possibly loved this man. 

“You’re the future, the only future I can focus on day in and day out. So understand when I say you have nothing to worry about. No nurse, no other woman, could take the place of that, okay?” 

You nodded, eyes squeezed shut, trying to will the tears away, so desperately hoping they wouldn’t fall in front of him. You couldn’t let them, evident in the way your hands dug into his shoulders, as if afraid of him walking away. Leaving you as you always thought he would one day. Instead, he held you back just as tightly, his forehead pressed along yours.

You heard him chuckle again, though, remembering why you had been so upset. “I still think you’re cute when you’re jealous.” 

You couldn’t help it, not as your own laugh appeared, the tears falling then as you opened your eyes to meet his kind and loving stare. “She was all over you.” 

“I’ll make a note to ask for another nurse then. Or even better, ask that you are the one to take care of me. That way, you can be the one all over me.” 

You smiled, that ache falling away, somehow being buried back where it came from. Simply cured by the man before you. How inevitably screwed you were one way or another. 

“Now, can your general request you to his tent? Or are you going to deny him of that for the second time today?”

What were you ever to do? Compassion is one thing Jedi acted upon, something so completely unable to be avoided, and Anakin Skywalker had practically laid himself out to you. There was no way not to fall inexplicably for a man. No possibility or other life where you couldn’t have loved him. Especially when you didn’t know if you would be alive tomorrow.

[cirusthecitrus]

Thinking about the portal incident again How it was never explained what caused the portal to appear, was Light Hope involved, was it someone else or was it wild magic. Was it planned or was it a pure random and luck How it saved Hordak from certain death. How it saved him from Prime How it appeared at the right place at the very right time. And had this happened a day late or anywhere else on the front lines, he most likely wouldn't have survived

How in that moment on the battlegrounds Hordak probably no longer believed he could be saved and just accepted his fate

How he might've as well been mere weeks/days old and his life could've ended before it even began. And he was ready to accept it

How in his mind he might have thought he was dying. And how confused and defeated he must have felt once he realized that he was still alive. That this portal did not kill him, but rather took away his chance at doing something "right", the last chance at pleasing his god. How he might've saw himself as an even bigger failure, because he couldn't even die right

How this sudden brutal separation from Prime and the Hive Mind was necessary and, in retrospect, was the best thing to ever happen to Hordak. How by physically cutting all the ties he had to the Horde and the known universe, some random portal did more to protect Hordak than most people in his life ever did

How Hordak himself viewed his situation not as a miracle but as fate worse than death. How at first he only felt immense pain, fear and grief, like a very young child whom was forcebly taken away from their abusive family. How he did not understand that it was good for him and only wished to return home and see his brother again. How Hordak wasted years of his life trying to find him. How his indoctrination, loyalty and love were stronger even than such powerful magic/technology

How Hordak had no idea what to do with himself at first, for he never thought he would've lasted this long. For he was not meant to live that long. And yet, he no longer welcomed death and once again found will to live. He did not let himself give up this time

How he's been looking for a portal home, hoping that one day it's going to appear again. How eventually, tired of waiting, he decided to create a portal of his own. How it became his life's work

How it was a portal that sent Adora to Etheria, someone who will one day free Hordak and the entire universe from Prime. How, if he wasn't waiting for another portal this entire time, no one would've come for her and Adora could've died on that field. But Hordak was there, and (as best as he could) he took care of someone who ended up in the same situation he was in

How it was a portal that brought Hordak to Etheria, and into Entrapta's lonely life. How they would've never met each other if it wasnt for that incident

How it was a portal that invited Entrapta into his life and helped him connect with a person who will forever change his life. How it was a portal that became a catalist for their friendship (and love)

How the "natural" portal that sent Hordak to Etheria can represent real connections and the painful process of growth and change (seeing new places, meeting new people, trying new things, distancing from harmful enviroment, learning independence, being responsible for oneself and others)

How the "artificial" portal Hordak created himself can represent desire to return to this false safety of the past, where everything was simple and familiar, as well as his desperate wish to rebuild his connection with Prime. A connection that was never there. How it was falling apart from the start, how at first Entrapta was so eager to help her friend succeed, but eventually realized that the portal was dangerous. How in the end it only hurt Hordak and everyone around him

How the portal that appeared "naturally" gave him not what he wanted, but what he needed. A safe place, people who understand him, a chance at better life, his personhood. How, after the "artificial" portal gave him something he thought he wanted, Hordak went back to square one. How, in reality, it only took everything from him

Portals, man...

[skrrts]

Heart's Contradiction Series * Hongjoong (mature!)

✧ gn!reader x hongjoong ✧ reader is a human ; hongjoong is a demon ✧ feat. wooyoung & seonghwa ✧ genre: au, soulmates, villains, romance, angst, emotional, comfort, supernatural ✧ word count: 12,9k ✧ warnings: adult language, death (non graphic) & rebirth, losing something important to you, loneliness, sadness, bittersweet, mdni!

in a world where finding your soulmate is everyone's highest goal, there is more at stake than just finding love. your soulmate is meant to change your life forever, for better or worse. what will you do when, after searching for so long, you come to realize that your soulmate is seen as the villain in somebody else's story, maybe even your own? the legend about the demon who tears lovers apart is as old as the soulmate bond itself, those who cannot endure living without their other half any longer call for him and in exchange for half of their lifetime, are united with their one right away until the monster returns to collect his price. when you heard noises on the second floor of your apartment complex, you didn't really think it through. the moment you pushed the door open and your gazes met, it was over. you know it's him, not because of the red string only visible to you but because soulmates are made of one soul and for the first time, you are sure to meet a pair of eyes that match your loneliness. time is a strange thing, you waited for something for so long, but as always, it's slipping right through your fingers. again.

a/n: this was meant to be the closing piece of the series due to the topics it covers but it ended up working easier for me to write. joong is the villain in the story of soulmates who give in to their longing to find them for a price. please make sure to read the warnings. if you decide to give it a read, thanks a lot 🤎

You made a face when Wooyoung placed the cake in your hands so he could lighten the candles. The topping said ‘Happy You Day’, fitting for somebody who did not like to celebrate their own birthday and your friend respected it by not using that word to decorate it. After years, he figured out you’d accept the cake but not much more. Birthdays just never mattered to you, not only because no family was there to celebrate it with you but you failed to see why one should only celebrate life on one specific day. It was even worse if one believed that soulmates really used to be one soul split into two on that day, even if they only were separated to finally be reunited.

“Make a wish,” Wooyoung smiled and you sighed a little but closed your eyes. What should you wish for? Your life wasn’t too bad, really. You were used to being alone, doing everything by your own efforts but also interests. From your childhood up to this point, you simply got used to that. You had friends, especially Wooyoung, but when you went home after a long day, that was it.

Unlike the entire world, you weren’t looking for your soulmate. There was not one way that worked for each to find them, fate was the asshole to decide over it, so why should you freak out about it? You were tired of the daily acts of desperation in the news: people who commited crimes to be with their soulmates, those who lost all will to live because theirs died or scammers promising to find it for you.

For Wooyoung to always be happy! It seemed like a good wish! You blew out the candles and watched Wooyoung with his cute, little claps and smile. He really was a great friend and you felt bad for being all grumpy about it. “Thank you for the cake, they get prettier every year,” you winked and he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

“I am working on it! Ah, I am sorry I cannot stay around this year to eat it with you, and that we are doing this on the street literally,” he sighed, looking at the watch. 

“Nonsense! You will absolutely get the job, this is my birthday after all and with this, I shall give you the power to fullfil your dreams!” You insisted and he was looking at you with a small smile.

“You really are amazing, Y/N. You know, I won’t ever stop admiring you… Hey, let’s meet on Tuesday and we cook together, okay?” You nodded and Wooyoung turned around, waving before he finally went out of sight and you sighed, lifting the cake up a little higher: “Now, what do we do with you? I won’t ever be able to eat all of you by my own until you can’t even survive in the fridge anymore.”

With some skill, you managed to get the cake safely back into your small apartment, placing it in the fridge for later before kicking off your shoes and leaving your bag and jacket by the door. It was Friday, this was probably the best of all birthday gifts because like that you could dodge most of your co-workers with their unserious wishes. 

You grabbed an energy drink, deciding to make use of it and binge-watch a show all night when you fell onto the couch. Upon searching for the remote, you leaned over to see if it fell into one of the cardboard boxes. It had been a few months since you moved in but there just were some you had no reason to unbox, memories of a time gone, unsure why you kept them. 

As you pulled out the remote, your eyes fell on a silly book. You picked it up and brushed over the dusty cover. Humans always loved to scare their children from doing something naughty with stories. The book was about an evil monster, one that came and promised you to find your soulmate but for that, you’d lose something else important to you, so if you saw him, you were meant to rush out of the room, close the door and repeat for him to go away. 

“Tch, considering how soulmates exist, who can blame some for believing this exists too.” 

It was an old story, one ironically everyone knew. It said if you called out for a demon, he would find your soulmate for you but in return, you had to sell your soul to him and one day, he’d just come and claim it and then you died. 

You dropped the book on the table and started the first few episodes of the show but somehow, you didn’t really get into it at all. The cake came back to mind again and you forced yourself up, cutting out a single slice and shoved a fork in your mouth. You did have to give it to Wooyoung , while his decoration skills had room for improvement, the taste always was on point. 

“This is how you spent your twenty-sixth birthday,” you nodded to yourself before suddenly, there was a loud boom which led for you to drop the plate with the cake, it crashed on the floor, shattering.

“Fuck!” you cursed and looked around, grabbing something to start and pick up the shards, followed by a towel to try and clean up. When you sat up, you paused. Not only because there was the same sound again, although quieter this time but most of all you were staring at your wrist.

“Hell?” you were good with cursing today it seemed but as you pulled on the red string around it, the thing wouldn’t move. “What’s this?” you blinked and crossed your legs, grabbing a knife but it seemed as it was invisible to the sharp blade. The third shattering sound from the floor above yours finally let you look up. 

You swallowed thickly, standing up and pulling on your sneakers, together with your phone and your keys. You kept pulling on the string as you walked up, taking two stairs at once. Above you lived a guy in his fourties, a drunkard because his soulmate left him, likely for that. Ah, just because a soul was matching yours didn’t mean all of them received their happy ending, sometimes the human mind just didn’t live up to it.

You stood there, hesitant for a moment, your hand wasn’t shaking when you reached for the doorknob but to your surprise, the door was unlocked. It opened without a sound and you found yourself in the middle of a strange scene. The body of your neighbor was lying on the floor, but it didn’t seem as if he was breathing anymore, a shelf next to him, likely one sources of the noises, and then there was a handsome man around your age that was pulling on a string around his wrist. 

He was cursing and said something you did not understand but he didn’t notice you yet. His brown hair was dancing around delicate features with silver eyes starring at his wrist. His outfit was … a bit strange, maybe it reminded you a little of what you saw people wearing in deserts, oversized comfortable white gowns made of soft fabrics, hinting of the build underneath without showing too much, a satin scarf tied around his neck, ears adorned with a great number of earrings and piercings. They looked slightly pointed towards the end.

It was the moment he looked up that your gazes finally met and it was strange but it felt like looking in a mirror. Not because the two of you would look anything alike but there was something in his expression: you knew the gaze of eyes who had gotten adjusted to being alone because they looked back in form of your mirror’s reflection every morning for the past decade. 

He finally moved, fingers snapping as he seemed to rush to the bathroom.

“Hey! What happened here?” You finally found your voice and walked towards him but you stopped when you saw that the said bathroom door turned into something that seemed to be pitch black water. 

You were staring now and suddenly, pulled forward by your wrist. You stumbled over some pairs of shoes and made a soft sound, this was one time too many but as you tried to get up, the pull continued and before you knew it, your eyes remained on a red string. It looked like the one around your wrist but somehow it was going through the apartment now.

The stranger was busy trying to obviously walk through the water but it seemed, every time he tried, it turned into ice and very slowly, he turned around. 

“They can’t be serious, what’s this?!” For some reason, you were quite sure he was still speaking that strange language but now you understood it perfectly.

Your gaze finally completed the picture, following the red string from his wrist back to yours. As you slowly sat up, you gave it a strong pull and this time, it was him who fell, almost on top of you. He cursed and glared darkly at you.

“Stop doing this! No, this is not right!” he hissed and struggled back onto his feet but it was of no use, neither of you seemed to be able to remove that strange red string, if anything the more you tried the shorter it seemed to get. 

“No no, this can’t be no… oh no, what is this?” he started to walk up and down, and very slowly, you managed not to feel like you were going insane. Your eyes returned to your neighbor and you swallowed.

“Is he dead?”

The stranger shrugged as he bent his hair back: “What about it? His time was up. He got what he wanted, he should not have made such a fuss now that I had come to collect the payment.”

“Payment?” You were suddenly dragged to your feet and stared at him when you were so close. To your surprise, he was warm. It was silly, you figured maybe he was something like a grim reaper but he felt awfully alive like that.

“He sold his soul to me 25 years ago, half of his lifetime in exchange for his soulmate. The irony is, sometimes humans naturally shorten their lives by going for the bond. This outcomes is likely more pleasant than dying from a drunk liver.”

You shivered when he held your hand and when he tried to brush through the black water once again, it worked.  You could see how he swallowed and let go, snapping his fingers and it was just a door again. He was defeated, disappointed confused, scared?

“Stop reading my emotions!” he cursed and you blushed, having been caught for doing something you did not even know you could do.

“I do not really get half of what you are talking about … you got his soul… like in the children’s book?”

The stranger was frowning at you now, confused about the fact that there was such a thing, or maybe, he had no idea what it was? Wait, if you could experience his emotions, did that mean he also… oh. 

“I guess, whatever that means. Do you live inside of this place? Let’s go there.” He started to walk again and you were dragged, hissing: “Could you maybe stop doing this?!” Almost as he was about to tease you, he tugged on the red string again. “The sooner you follow me, the earlier we can cut this off and be done. I have to go back to hell and I won’t go there with you.” 

There were two emotions you sensed: the first one was that this was a lie, the second was desperation, maybe more doubt.

You never heard that any pair of soulmates ever managed to cut their bond, surely some tried but it couldn’t be done. 

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned through the small apartment. He had been a deal maker for around four hundred years, he saw all kinds of homes and this one was not really out of the ordinary. He noticed the broken plate on the floor, splattered with cake. The demon was trying his best to keep his thoughts collected, the last he needed for you was to be able to sense the truth.

He had no idea what was going on. It was easy, every demon found its soulmate within one hundred years of birth, with no exceptions. Until Hongjoong was born and when everyone found theirs, there was none for him. Thus two centuries passed and he simply dropped it. What was the point of being sorrowful about it? If hell said there was no demon for him, good! This job was annoying enough. Humans were silly creatures.

Hongjoong wasn’t the only one but one who took many calls, likely due to not having a soul to share, no reason to desire more resting times. It was the human who called for a demon, not the other way around. It simply was practical, they were so willing to give and demons no longer needed to be violent to regain the energy needed to ensure the balance of the world remained. Not that humans would like to know that either.

He always told them very well what was to take place, the price of it but they never listened. When the time was up and he showed to collect their life time, they grew violent just for not wanting to finish a business they got rolling.

Now, several parts about this made it hard to stay calm: First, why the fuck was his soulmate a damn human, and how was it that he found you now? Souls who did not make foolish decisions usually went into a cycle of rebirth so … where have you been all this time?

No, he was not going to fall into this now! He needed to cut this off before it was too late. Hongjoong’s eyes wandered back to you as you tugged on the string, cursing him since he ignored how you complaint about how you did not clean up, not knowing you'd have visitors and how you ignored him.

Reading the other’s emotion and a string limiting distance was a demonic trait of soulmates, not one of humans. No, theirs never was as intense and sincere, much simpler. Then he only was able to pass through the portal to the gate with you by his side, in touch which meant.

“What? Do you think I am not hot enough to be your soulmate?” you puffed your cheeks. For a human, you were taking all of those new lessons well, really.

If you did not manage to cut off the bonds tho, your time as a human was running out. It seemed that your soul already started to accustomed to his demonic presence and with this, you likely would turn into one. Then, there was no way for you to stay here, your life would be over, and thinking how human souls always begged not to leave behind what they loved...

“What’s with those dirty old shoes inside of a home?” he pointed out, finally giving you some kind of answer. It was of no use, while there was no reason to put you into a spiral of panic for the moment, it would be easier to think if you stopped treating him like a puppy on a leash.

“Before you make a big scene, yes I am a demon and yes, we do have soulmates. Then, this one is a little different, you see when your soulmate is near, the string around the wrist appears and usually, it only leads you together, you follow it and then, each keeps the one on the wrist but that’s it. With us demons, that is different. We experience everything more intense, and because we benefit from our soulmate bonds, in exchange we always have to be together, our radius to be able to walk away is short so I guess, when we threaten to leave, the string reminds us of that.”

You turned your wrist around, looking at the red string and then back to him. At least, you were quick-witted and smart because you already took notice that the string, while there, was invisible to all around you. Clothes, and objects, they just went through it like it was made of air but you could not separate, it kept your souls together and with that, the bodies.

“Can I ask some stupid questions?” you asked and Hongjoong shook his head. “Can I ask for your name? C’mon, you just said we are soulmates, what’s with all of this hesitation?”

“I told you, not to read my emotions!” You were far too good at it. Hongjoong was trying his very best to keep it at bay, somehow it seemed rude to do just that and he wondered when he suddenly became shy around a human. “Hongjoong, that’s what my name means in your human tongue anyway.” 

Yours already adjusted to his though, another warning sign that things were progressing fast.

“Hongjoong, it’s cute! I am,” you suddenly stalked closer, whispering your name to him and he was naturally withdrawing. “What are you doing?”

Oh, how you judged him for this, not only the way how your head tilted and you looked at him: “What is it? What makes you so displeased about me being your soulmate? Is it the look? The name, or because I am human?”

He was glad you did not know that he was considered abnormal because you were gone for so long and he had given up that you existed. Urgh again, he agreed with himself he did not need a soulmate! No, he could not get emotionally attached to you now, not more than the string already forced onto the both of you.

“I do not need a soulmate, my life is busy. I work a lot and demons aren’t permitted to stay in the mortal realm for long. I just told you, demonic soulmates cannot separate and since I am one, this means we are in a hassle.” 

You were so much worse than he expected. Please, where was the terror, the screams, the begging not to be tied to a monster?

“So, just take me along then, problem solved. You said you cannot go without me and it seems easier for me to go with you, I just text my coworkers I found my soulmate and I am running off with him. They likely think I am desperate enough for it.”

You said that with such lightless that for the first time, Hongjoong allowed his emotions to go through, that sense of confusion but mostly, he was finally trying to read yours properly, going deeper than the bits of curiosity, and annoyance. 

Your words were so lighthearted proving you must be used to being like that because deep down, he found a familiar, radiant pain. No, you did not say it because you were reckless and curious, you seemed to believe there was nothing for you here.

Hongjoong forced not to look through your apartment again, now wondering where it was, those human affection everyone held and it was only now that he foolishly admitted he did not look at it from your perspective. Human lives were short, you couldn’t be older than your 20s but with that, you waited for quite some time. 

His silver eyes remained on the splattered cake and he walked over, opening that metal box you all used for food storage. The cake inside told him what he needed to know to put it together. It was your birthday. Humans always celebrate them with their families and friends. You were alone, eating cake. 

“You caught me, it’s my birthday! So in theory, you owe me because I was in the middle of a celebration when your noises scared the hell out of me… I probably should not use this word as a joke anymore huh?” This time, your voice wasn’t as convincing and you bit your lip because you also slowly got used to the fact that the two of you could sense the other’s emotions.

Hongjoong did not want a soulmate. He got used to being alone. It might be silly, foolish even but the demon’s greatest fear was simple: finding his soulmate only to lose them again. You never could truly miss what you did not know but losing it after you had it, oh having felt it, after watching his friends glow up and be with theirs.

The moment he’d give into the longing, there wouldn’t be a way for him to let you go again.

He didn’t want to push the burden of being with him onto you. It would be a lonely life for a former human to live in hell with its limitations just to be called to desperate souls, uniting them with their soulmate only to know the grief you’d push them through by the time when you returned to claim them. 

It didn’t change, Hongjoong had no idea how to cut it off because deep down, he knew that there was no way but it didn’t mean he couldn’t try to save your soul. 

He would.

“Well, let’s celebrate your birthday then.”

This was not what you expected him to say. For the past half an hour, your soulmate ignored you, broadening about your situation and now, he wanted to celebrate your birthday? 

His emotions were confusing because they seemed to change all few seconds, going through confusion, being upset, and sometimes, sorrow. That one hurt, it reminded you of whenever people told you that your loneliness would end the day your soulmate would come into your life.

Nobody ever said how to deal with that creeping fear. Everyone you loved was gone, what if finding your soulmate meant hope just to have it ripped from you again? How funny, you spent so much time cursing and asking simply for a soulmate that could not die, one that was instructable when you were a teenager. Then, there was no way to lose them, right?

Now, this had come true quite literally. 

“What do you mean?” you asked as you watched him carefully taking out the cake and placing it on the counter. There were so many questions you had, about him and hell since it seemed, the two of you would spend… however long you would be able to live with him together there.

“Humans care about birthdays, we do not do that. I mean, we have celebrations but we do not put up those,” Hongjoong explained. You loved to listen to his voice, it was calm and pretty. Ah, he looked like an elf, the longer you thought about it, the less it seemed like a monster. Then, maybe they were like angels in stories, taking a more human shape to please the souls and scare them less but would he have to even try when he came to claim a soul? 

“How do you put these on…” he asked pointing at the candles. There was no way to chuckle about it and he seemed to blush just a little.” Guess, it means you cannot spy fire or something.” Your fingers opened one of the drawers and took out a lighter. 

“Well, first thing you have to learn is that just like humans have countries and differ in appearance, so are demons. It really is just an umbrella term but no, as I told you, I’m a collector. We collect the life energy so I do not steal your soul before you ask about it. That doesn’t work since soulmates exists and you need to find yours again.”

You paused, surprised that he suddenly was sharing so willingly about it and it made you wonder if that was because he was upset your thoughts were so cliche or if it was sincere. “Wait, you are telling me that humans are really reborn and then you have the same soulmate in all of them?”

Hongjoong hesitated before shrugging: ”Something like that? I can’t really go into details.” Somehow, you could sense there was a ‘now’ he did not dare to speak and it just further added to your suspicion that he was trying to hide something from you. He certainly had reasons to dislike you, hell you even could see that somebody living for centuries was not too keen to suddenly have what must feel like half a teenager stuck by his side but was it really all?

“Here, we have those. You push that little wheel and then it makes fire,” you showed it to him, offering the lighter to him. Hongjoong seemed hesitant before he took it and you admired how soft his hands looked, hell must have a pretty impressive skin care. 

It was cute to watch him struggling just a little with it but eventually, all of the five candles were lighted again, minus the one you removed earlier when taking a slice from it.

Hongjoong was holding up the cake and for the first time, you noticed his pretty eyes had no reflection. There was a wave of hesitation all over him and it really was hard to figure out just what was going on in his mind. 

“Here,” he offered it to you and you blinked.

“Actually, I already… wait a second.” You decided against mentioning how you already made a wish because he put the effort in and you did not want to be ungrateful, rushing over to pick up two juice glasses and some mineral water, uncertain if demons consumed alcohol and you honestly did not have any at home anyway.

You poured two before sitting down, smiling, and closed your eyes, thinking how you wished, you could live a life with him from the start. It sounded stupid considering you just met him but maybe then, it would be possible, to be comfortable instead of awkward. 

As you blew out the candles, his expression shifted, suddenly it was strangely soft like he was looking at an old lover he had not seen for a long time and he was just admiring you before being caught and clearing his throat, gaze torn away to place the cake back on the table. 

“Okay then, let’s eat some of it,” he said and cut another piece off, placing it on a plate. You offered him a glass and smiled: “We have to do a toast too, that’s important. Let’s drink, uhm to be good soulmates. Next life, let’s be happy together!”

Hongjoong was making a face, it was as if he was about to say something but he just sighed and accepted the water glass, toasting with you before emptying it. 

“Now eat, you should enjoy the food. We do not really eat in hell;” he mumbled and forced the plate on your lap before looking away again. You mumbled something but took it, this time enjoying the flavor and for some reason, you got sad to think how now you never would be able to tell Wooyoung in person how tasty the cake was or to see how his decorative skills would improve.

You bit your cheek, reminding yourself that the demon by your side could sense it and he already seemed so against your idea to simply go with him. Your decision did not change, it just really made sense in your eyes, you had a few friends, especially Woo but that was about it. Their lives would improve once they found their soulmates and go on without you, nobody would grieve for you being gone for long, it was just how it was.

People were always torn away from you and you were forced to suffer alone but nobody ever seemed to feel like that about you. If they did not die, they just walked out never to return.

“I don’t look like that!” Hongjoong’s offended voice tore you out of your thought train and you looked up, seeing him holding up the children's book, finger pointing at the scary monster. “Sure, I am not the only collector but none of us looks like this! Also, what’s this with we steal your soul and will just disappear if you close the door and speak our name!”

You could not hold back the laugh because the demon was taking this so awfully seriously, you could feel how he was annoyed by the portrayal of the demons who helped humans find their soulmates in exchange for their lives.

“Well, it’s supposed to be a scary story. In the eyes of the people, your kin is somewhat of a villain, you know? Making use of the insecure humans who just want to find their missing piece and soulmate,” you explained and Hongjoong’s eyes glanced over it again before dropping it. 

“Tch, it’s them who calls us and we actually put the effort in to look good, so it is not scary at all.” You leaned in and for the first time, dared to come a little closer to him. “So you look different in hell?”

 Your soulmate was studying you carefully, before shrugging: “Not necessarily, let’s say our features are a little sharper, some of us do have like wings or horns but I’d not say… I have a hard time to assume if you find it scary, humans seem so easily terrified.” 

Interesting, then nobody really could blame them for being upset when angels always were portrayed so beautifully although their original descriptions were rather terrifying.

“What are you doing?” Hongjoong froze the moment you grew bold and your hands rested on both of his cheeks. His breath lowered and he looked down, to see how your fingers brushed along his sharp jawline.

“You are beautiful, you know? I mean it, you really are. I almost feel a little ashamed I am so… simple,” you whispered and to your surprise, he was now turning the tables. His movement was so quick and sharp, you did not see it coming how he grabbed your chin gently, lifting it a little as his white eyes looked over your face.

“I do not see it, you being simple. You are pretty, to me anyway. We are soulmates, you could look any shape or form and we are still meant to adore each other, you know? Now, what do I do with you? Not afraid, eager to move to hell, being so bold with a demon. You really want to come with me?”

You swallowed, throat went dry when his voice was husky at the end, almost a little threatening. Then, very slowly, you nodded. The red string around your wrists relaxed it wasn’t as tense anymore as it was in the past hour.

Hongjoong looked at you for a moment before withdrawing and standing up, when he acted, he always confused you because his emotions never seemed to match. There was this odd feeling of guilt that came over your connection but you had little time to think of it. When he asked you, the last you expected was the snap of the finger and how he simply carried you through the black water.

Somehow, you figured you would have some time to text your goodbyes before moving casually to hell. 

Hongjoong dropped you carefully, watching your expression as you looked around. Ah yes, humans had very specific ideas of what hell would look like and you were likely surprised to realize, that some parts of it did not look so much alike to your own world. The part where most of the collectors resided was not unlike an oasis in the middle of a desert, with elegant buildings craved out of sandstone, vast plants, and plays of water rushing through the city.

“This is different,” you breathed, looking around like you just ended up on vacation. It was hard to deal with your strong emotions, it seemed as time passed by, the bond increased and Hongjoong grew worried about how much time he would have to safe you before you’d turn into a demon. 

It was hard to tell why he was so adamant about it. Was it really only because once he grew accustomed to you losing you would be too painful or was it something else? He could not shake off this fear of how he somehow knew you’d not be able to endure the life of a collector, how every human begging you not to take their life often at their happiest…

His thoughts were interrupted when Seonghwa came around the corner, he was humming, his soul string relaxed. This guy somehow managed to cheat the soulmate bond, maybe because his soulmate was just as gentle and trusting but also cheeky as the older demon. 

It was when his gaze landed on the human that he froze: “You?”

You turned around and Hongjoong was quick to step by your side, forcing you to stand behind you. Not that Seonghwa would pose any threat to you or well, anyone else. Demons were quite strict when it came to soulmates, it was a big thing here, much more than up there for you humans. Hurting another's soulmates was considered the biggest crime.

“It’s complicated… but you need to help us to cut it somehow,” Hongjoong lifted his hand, pulling gently on the string. He was a little taken back to see his best friend all confused as he was looking at you strangely before finally, Hwa’s golden eyes focused on him.

“Okay, slow down there, Joongie. You just found your soulmate, let’s ignore it’s a human, and you want to cut it, now why would any sane soul do this?”

“I agree,” you announced and then just walked past him, causing a blush on his cheeks when you seemed so trusting with Seonghwa like you had known him forever. 

“Nice to meet you! This guy talks about cutting it off since we met, although I told him how I am okay to come here! I mean, my human life isn’t awful or anything but I have an easier time just coming here with him.”

Seonghwa’s features softened too much and Hongjoong was not sure why this somehow felt unsettling. He was trying to get himself together and rushed back to your side: “Why give up a life up there? I am perfectly fine on my own and humans, they have to stop thinking soulmate is the only option… there are plenty of people to pick.”

His best friend looked at him with a gentle smile before poking his forehead: “How about you slow down a little there, sir? You know that there is no known way to break that bond other than death. Not for us, we aren’t humans.” 

Hongjoong opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by Hwa’s strict demeanor. “Why don’t you go and get your soulmate something more comfortable to wear? Since one of the two of you is relaxed, it should be fine. Relax, that way the string will give you some space.” The taller gave his best friend a shove and sighed, only mumbling to himself and walking off.

Hongjoong brushed a strain of hair behind his ear, as he focused to listen to the conversation. Down here, his instincts and senses worked perfectly. Ah, he should have known Seonghwa just would be so open with you. His fingers suddenly felt a little shaky when he went through his room, starting to find something that would fit you.

“He’s really tense… I almost think he does not like me,” you whispered and Seonghwa leaned in, delicate fingers curling a strain of long dark hair around his finger. “It’s because we demons find our soulmates right at the start. You see… we only have this one life. If we fade, that’s it. Humans can be reborn, so I guess, he believes that in your next life, destiny will fix this for you. Hongjoong... tells himself he has long accepted to not have one but look at that.”

Your curiosity was of no help, Hongjoong picked something that should look cute and pretty on you. Maybe it was not the worst idea while he figured out how to fix this mistake.

“If you only have one life… what becomes of your soulmate if you vanish?”

Your question was too bold, humans had no taste for when to be tender with questions as Seonghwa’s features indicated pain. Hongjoong knew there was somebody his best friend knew once who lost a soulmate and there was a rule which made it hard to deal with it.

“As we are immortal unless something causes our death and there is no rebirth for us... losing your soulmate is said to drive a demon insane,” Hongjoong started as he stepped by your side again. “Thus, there is a magic some may consider a curse or blessing. If your soulmate dies, unlike a human who keeps theirs, the string vanishes and the demon forgets about them. Other demons are forbidden to ever speak about it, so the pain will not resurface. It’s rare tho.”

Why were you so sad about this? It was not just the emotions coming over the string but also your features.

“But this seems so cruel? Not to be able to remember the person you spent your entire existence with. I understand it… the pain of loss, of having to go on but I always rather remember than be forced to believe I always was meant to be alone.”

Seonghwa was silent as you said it and Hongjoong stood there, a little lost before sighing: “Anyway. Here, we can get you something proper another time… it should fit you. As you see, we all somewhat wear similar styles, just with changes in detail. It’s always the heat of Summer down here, you will see why it’s more comfortable.”

You turned around smiling: “Thanks, I’ll go and change… uhm.” Hongjoong pointed towards the rooms he just came from: “That’s where I live, take your time.” 

He nodded and only glanced as you rushed off.

“Joong, do you really want to cut the bond?” Hwa’s voice was gentle and if he did not know it better, his best friend seemed almost mourning about it.

“It’s better, I do not think that my soulmate is fit for this life … I do not want to push a human soul through the pain of collecting life energy, I am not sure that …"

He did not need to finish it, Seonghwa understood and the two of them just stood there in silence. 

You suddenly felt yourself shivering, it was hard to explain and certainly hadn’t anything to do with your new clothes which were surprisingly light and comfortable. It seemed the fabrics of demons were woven differently from what you knew from the earth. Hands rubbed over your arms when Hongjoong walked to your side, sighing.

“How are we supposed to do this together? Look at you,” he frowned and you looked as innocently as possible: “What’s with that feeling? You feel it too but you do not seem to mind it at all.”

For a moment, Hongjoong was silent before he took your hand and started to walk with you through the city. It was a strange place, the buildings elegant and carved beautifully. The demons barely reminded you as such, even those who had less human traits than Hongjoong and his best friend.

“You know, Hell plays an important part in the balance of the world. Heaven, Earth, Hell. We are one big circle that supports each other, as odd as that sounds for a human. A part of hell deals with the souls of humans who need to be led back to a righteous part while also harboring … what you likely imagine when hearing demon. To ensure that all stays the way it is, we need energy, think of it like humans need the sun.”

It seemed he was leading you towards the tallest building in the center, for once you managed to stay silent, indicating you were listening and Hongjoong nodded as he continued:

“When humans started to reproduce in great numbers, the energy on earth became too much. Thus, we started to seek ways to slow it down, and as we need energy to keep this alive, humans gave us the answer themselves. When they started to summon demons in exchange for leading them to their soulmates, it was a natural decision. No harm would come to humanity, but help to balance the numbers of souls ever so eager to be reborn at once. You see, a soul isn’t directly reborn. It waits for the soulmate until a matching moment is found and only then do they come back. Ah, let’s not bore you with the detail.”

You wanted to disagree, just needing a moment to put his words into a larger picture as you walked passed a small crowd but nobody seemed to mind a human walked among them. 

You entered a room that looked surprisingly like a library just with files, Hongjoong seemed to naturally find the one he was looking for. He placed it on the table so you could have a look, a woman in her late 30s, made the pact at the young age of eighteen and you slowly understood, thinking of your neighbor.

“Because demons are so sensitive to soulmates, we can forcefully make the string appear and with that, find their soulmate. As I mentioned before, when they agree, the contract is written here but there is one thing humans often do not consider. Their lifetime can change, a reckless decision, an addiction. Somebody meant to reach the age of a hundred might live fifty years with their soulmate but shorten it to forty because of an addiction. That is not our problem tho. When their estimated time is up, you feel this shiver and you will know which one it is as you were the one to have made it.”

Before you could say anything, Hongjoong took your hand and this time, his grip was firm as he snapped his fingers and the water appeared. 

“I do not want to be cruel but I guess, the only way for you to see why you are not made for this is to see both by yourself. Soulmates work together, if you stay with me, every day, every call, you have to come with me, no exceptions.”

Suddenly, you stood in the middle of a fancy house, wide open doors showed a beautiful garden with a play of water and the humming sound of a woman who was watering her flowers. This was somebody wealthy but money could not give you a soulmate, right? “Do you know why she’d have died so early on?”

Hongjoong looked at you, nodding: “It is part of the note but sometimes, it is better not to know too much.” With that, he let go of your hand but the string soon forced you to follow as he stepped outside and the woman turned around. The moment she saw Hongjoong’s beautiful features, she grew pale.

“No,” she gasped, the water jug dropped to the ground, spilling clear water everywhere. “It is much too early! You cannot be here yet, it must be a mistake.” The average human life was anticipated to be around eighty to ninety, now many even reach their hundred. You were not surprised how she must be surprised to face death now, like that. Beautiful but sharp.  

“Your death date has been concluded and thus, I am here to collect the price in exchange for our deal made. It will be quick, you won’t feel a thing,” it was odd for Hongjoong, who usually spoke with so much impatience or worry, to lack any emotion. You swallowed as you reminded yourself how this had been his life from the beginning of his existence and based on his words, he must have lived for quite some time already.

“No listen, my daughter, she’s just done with high school! I just need a few more years!” the woman begged but the demon seemingly remained unaffected. 

"We have fulfilled our part of the deal, now it is time for you to do so as well.”

Her gaze was a mixture of hatred and desperation as she grabbed him, starting to shake your soulmate: “Is this all you monsters have to say?! You make use of poor humans in misery, longing for their other part, and then just treat us like objects! You truly are a monster. Bless god, my daughter already found hers, I will not have to worry she will lose her soul to such a monster like you.”

This was the moment her eyes fell on you, staring like she barely could make sense that a monster would have a soulmate and it made you wonder if it meant those affected by a pact could see the red string connecting your wrist.

“How can you?!” she did not get a chance to finish her sentence, Hongjoong snapped with his fingers and she simply fell to the ground like she just lost consciousness. You swallowed as you watched a ball made of radiant white and golden light seemingly leave the body, the golden one going up, while Hongjoong took the white into his hand and made it disappear.

“It’s a quick death, it just stops. She has not committed any crimes, her soul will remain in the good realms until her soulmate has passed as well and they can start over”, Hongjoong concluded and looked at you.

It was the moment the door opened and a man walked in. You noticed how his red string looked different from yours, it was clean like it was made of one piece rather than the cut-off ends that indicated the connection to another. 

The moment he saw his wife’s body, the sound of his voice, your heart cracked and Hongjoong could sense how you thought of him as cruel, for forcing you through experiencing all of it. He did not pull you away, offered no comfort and did not let you go back to hell because he wanted you to see what it meant to make a pact with the devil, the villain of the story of desperate soulmates.

You hated how tears dwelled at the edge of your eyes but you were not sure why, death stopped touching you such a long time ago.

When you received news of your mother's passing, it was first hard, by the time your grandmother left as well, did you really get used to it or did you barely alter yourself focusing on the memory of the calm face that looked at you in the mirror, asking if being alone wouldn’t be easier, kinder.

Finally, the familiar snap appeared and Hongjoong led you back to hell. 

“Do you want a blanket? I can get you one if you are cold,” Hongjoong’s voice was soft, worried. When you came back, you just curled up as a ball on his bed. The thought of this repeating tomorrow was hard, could you get used to it? You’d have to! Not only because you talked so boldly about being fine like this, but it was not as if you had an option.

Did you want an option?

It wasn’t your question but a wave of emotions formed into words coming from him. Hongjoong had tried to be soft, caring even and it was strange. Finally, he seemed to have enough of your lack of answers, he sat down at the edge of the bed and gently but forcefully turned you around.

Tears remained in your eyes and his fingers were so gentle, it almost broke you. For a moment, you imagined what it would have been like to meet Hongjoong as a human. Somehow, you thought how he would have been somebody gentle and kind, maybe a painter, focused to find beauty in the detail or a florist, creating art that made hearts bloom.

Why was he born a demon, forced to do this work alone?

Alone. No, he wasn’t alone anymore. You should get yourself together! Maybe there was a reason for it, maybe not but it was on you to make the most out of this bond.

“Stay with me,” you whispered and his arms curled around you, pulling you close. “Not like I can go anywhere,” he teased and you chuckled. “True.” 

You allowed your face to burry against his neck, only noticing now how he had this faint scent of wildflowers, maybe a herb your grandmother used for tea, it was hard to tell why but it was familiar, like you once were used to have it around you.

“Tell me about you,” you whispered after a while, no longer crying as his hand kept gently rubbing over your back, his chin resting against your hair so you could hide against his chest from the world. “What do you want to know?” he asked, thoughtful as his movements held for a moment. 

“Mh, anything? We can skip food, since you say you do not eat but what do you like to do? What are your hobbies? Placed to go, things to do? Let’s pretend there are no stupid rules or limitations.”

He chuckled again: “You always ask the big questions or too many at once but let’s see… I like to paint or I used to. For a while, I had the feeling like there was something important I forgot and it would help me remember but all I got together were places I saw but whose meaning seemed odd. Sometimes, on days when the hours I have up there are not spent on work, I like to walk the human world at night. The fake lights making your cities look so breathtaking from afar, fireworks, the scents of food. People just going by with their lives with so little worry about their futures. I also like the beach, we do not have oceans here, not ones made of water.”

It was fascinating to imagine Hongjoong, just walking along those places, eyes bright and shining like the ones of a child.  “We should go and do that then, you know? I can show you a few, we eat food, explore the beach and look at the fireworks. It is Summer now, a good time.” Hongjoong fell silent for some time, you could feel the heavy sorrow like he just was reminded of something.

Maybe he just made a decision.

“I would like that.”

The next two days felt like a familiar fever dream. Waking up holding you in his arms, the way you smiled at him so easily like he was not the one who stole your life, your careless curiosity, the way you enjoyed exploring the city, endless stories to share which made him wonder why you spent your birthday alone.

For a moment, Hongjoong was weak. Suddenly, he enjoyed it, the idea of having you by his side, how it could be like if you remained with him, the life shared together but the day he woke up and started to note the little changes to your features, the way how your ears were a little more pointed.

He realized time was ticking. Soon, he would have to make a decision or there wouldn’t be a way around it. Little did he know how he would find his answer when the call was sudden, a harsh painful cry for a demon to appear. 

You dropped a plate of colors as you felt it, wincing and Hongjoong was quick to be by your side, cupping your cheek: “Don’t worry, it is okay. It is rare for summons to be so sharp, they usually are a little more … desperate.”

It was hard to tell if fate was just cruel tho, to force this one on the two of you after a few peaceful days without interruption. “Are you ready to go?” he asked and you looked at him, hesitant but nodding, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze: “Let’s go.”

The apartment you stepped in was a mess. Books and papers laid around, clothes, a black cat plushie and the smell of freshly baked goods. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. 

It was your reaction that made him pause, the sharp gasp when you inhaled, the shiver that run through your body but before Hongjoong even had time to ask, tears rushed down your cheeks, and the one who called stepped out of the bathroom. 

It was a handsome man around your age, long black waves falling into his face, a jacket clinging to the shoulders. His eyes were wet, the vibe a mixture of desperation and pain. Finally, Hongjoong’s eyes stuck on a photograph. A graduation scene, him and you, posing together with your degrees.

“You are the demon that can find my soulmate?” he asked voice husky, indicating he must have cried for some time.

“Wooyoung?” as you called out his name, the man looked at you. It was hard to tell if it was a curse or a blessing at this point, because you came with the demon and the progress of change started, he did not recognize you anymore.

“You have a soulmate?” he swallowed, his gaze was on you for a moment. Zhe hard gasp leaving your lips were hard to endure. When you moved, Hongjoong just froze. “No, Wooyoung listen! You do not need to do this! Your soulmate will come to you in time, do not give up your life time for this!”

Finally, the demon acted and pulled you back. There was a simple rule, if a demon answered a call, no going back. If the humans wished for the pact, it would happen. The way you tried to free your wrist was hard to take but Hongjoong was firm.

The human seemed confused as he watched the scene, not understanding why the demons meant to help him would suddenly tell him not to.

“I want to do it. I just lost another person … I can’t go on and wait to be alone. I rather die young being loved than be alone most of my life. Do it.”

He was talking about you, both of you knew it and somehow, it finally gave you the rest. You sunk to your knees and cried, the air full of tension. Hongjoong tried his best to deal with the emotions through your bond and it was hard, he felt dizzy and overrun by your grief and sorrow but eventually, he managed. The red string appeared but it was made of a single piece, with no ends for a string.

Wooyoung looked at it before Hongjoong found his voice: “I must reject it. There is nothing I can do for you.”

Confusion radiated from both of the humans and Wooyoung made a step towards the demons.  “What do you mean by that?!” Hongjoong paused. There was one, rare occasion, where even the willingness of a human was pointless: if the soulmate already passed away. It happened often, it was fo those who waited all thei life, thinking how they never found this one person. 

“Your soulmate already passed over for the next life. In this one, go and find a love that your heart longs for, not so much your soul. It does not have to be any less fulfilling just because it is not made of a string.”

This time, Hongjoong spared you the reaction of your best friend, he dragged you through the water before any of you could witness it.

As you dropped on the floor of his home, you cried, you would not stop at all but Hongjoong did not have the cruelty to go down and try to soothe you. Somehow, he knew you would reject it.

“He won’t remember this, the moment we leave, he just will have this realization that he knows his soulmate will not find him but as I already told you… there will be a next life.”

Of course, it offered you no comfort. The tears would not stop. Finally, Hongjoong swallowed and he went on his knees, he was terrified for you to push him away because hewas about to steal the life of likely the one human you did care for, the one that baked you the cake and he did not even hesitate.

To his surprise, you allowed him to pull you closer, burying your face against his shoulder.

And as he held you, experienced every one of your emotions, he knew. You were not meant for this life and now, the answer was simple.

When he first waited to find you, he always said he’d do anything for his soulmate, once they would be together, make them happy. In a time before he told himself he was better off alone.

He would protect your soul now too, which would wither like a flower if you stayed.

There was no way to cut the string of souls.

Except one.

“You look different…” you looked at him. Seeing Hongjoong in streetwear, he was almost looking human, just a little prettier than any you encountered. “Blue hair would suit you well, you know? Goes with your white eyes.”

Hongjoong blushed, this was the first time he was doing it so obviously but it made you giggle. “What about it? I do not get why you guys like those jeans so much… the tank top is okay but why do you wear it when you need a jacket on top? Wouldn’t it be easier simply to wear a long sleeve to begin with?”

You still were surprised when he took you to a mall earlier, asking you to pick an outfit for him and then, one for yourself. It took your hours but he insisted on taking your time. Of course, you guessed he wanted to distract you from what happened yesterday, something you tried your hardest to push aside, forget but Wooyoung’s face still haunted you in your dreams. 

Maybe this was a good idea, getting out for a little, spending time with your soulmate. You could not just let Hongjoong down, could not tell him this was too much for you, not after all you forced him through, promises you made so carelessly.

“It’s because if it gets hot, you just take off the jacket and won’t sweat but if a wind is coming up, feel warm and snuggly. You also can give it to your partner, you know? That way, they can show it off, it’s like a more comfortable way of soulmate string.”

Hongjoong just looked confused but you liked it, your arms curled around him as he snapped his fingers and opened a portal. It must be late afternoon, the smell of the ocean was quite strong, and there were many voices, giggles of couples, and laughs of families alike.

A festival? Ah, that was right, there was one around a week after your birthday. Had only such a little time past by since you met Hongjoong? Just one week? 

“I was thinking, you could get us some food, we do… whatever humans do here and then, enjoy the fireworks.” Hongjoong seemed almost shy, forcing his gaze away as he asked you to go for that. It was almost like a date and the thought excited you! “Leave it to me, we can do all of the things. Ah, is it okay to be like this?”

You gently tugged on his arm and his gaze met you, it was soft and loving as he nodded: “I do not mind it. Humans can see us since we came here on our own accord but they should not spend any special notice of us, since my magic shelters us just enough.” 

You thought again of just how warm he was, the way his skin was soft and he smelt so nice, like a memory. “Noted, I promise it will be fun and then we can go back in no time.” Hongjoong shook his head: “Don’t worry… about that. Just let’s have fun okay? Like there is no tomorrow.” 

Ah, he was always so dramatic but then, this surely was his first time here, so you wanted to make the most out of it. 

You did not waste time, you dragged him over to all kinds of stalls, all the times you watched others do this with their lovers. There were silly games where you had to catch rubber ducks, the owner was sure Hongjoong was cheating just because he was too good at it.

Food was a whole different thing, demons were not required to eat, but they could if they wanted to although, Hongjoong noted how their flavor wasn’t as developed as the one of a human. Still, you ended up buying some chocolate strawberries and feeding them to him slowly. The way his face flushed when he dropped the first, nervous when he was chewing the second, and deciding how he liked it. Everything was new to him and his curiosity was quite obvious shared over your bond.

It was good because it helped you to relax and forget about the worries for a little. The sun was sinking deeper when there was a cliche moment, of somebody playing music and couples watching, some dancing and enjoying the play of the violin with an acoustic guitar. 

“I always wanted to learn how to play one of those but then I just skipped it, didn’t have the patience,” you admitted, pointing at the violin. Hongjoon hesitated, lurking over to a human couple before he placed himself right behind you, arms curled around your waist as he rested his chin on your hair.

This time, it was you who blushed but you relaxed into the hug, allowed to enjoy his presence, the way how your heart was beating louder now. “Learn it, you never are too old to learn, you know? Even if it takes a long time, do what your heart calls for, remember that the only limits are the ones given by yourself and social expectations. You are not too old to learn, and you can be happy without your soulmate, love will be there if you want it.”

His words touched you and you looked up, trying to get a glimpse of his face but he did not move. “Well, I have a soulmate so I do not have to worry about that.”

You chuckled and for a moment, you were sure to catch his smile before he let go of you, squeezing your hand as he nodded towards the beach. “It will get dark soon. We should head to the beach, for the fireworks. I’d like a spot alone for us.”

Was it already this late? “Ah sure, let’s go!”

Hongjoong helped you to get over some rocks which were intended to keep people away but it did not seem to bother the demon. He held you gently as he led you down a path and found just the perfect spot in the sand. As you sat down, he noticed your shiver and obviously, remembered something. Hongjoong stripped out of his jacket and placed it over your shoulder.

It was the moment when your gazes met and if you did not know better, it seemed his heart was breaking. Thre was a brief moment of sadness but it was washed away by happiness so quickly.

“You know, I lived a long life, and I think, considering all, it was a happy one. I look at it and I think, I received everything a demon could hope for.”

His hands cupped your face once more and you blinked: “What’s with all of this past tense?” You wanted to sound casual but somehow there was a hint of worry, like you should be alarmed but your thoughts were interrupted once more as you kissed.

You gasped because the kiss was far too familiar to be a first one like the body remembered something the mind did not. Slowly, your eyes shut and you gave yourself into it, it was sweet and tender, longing for one another. Your arm curled around his neck and for some time, you simply remained just like that, only interrupted by the cracking explosion of fireworks over the sea, the sun now gone for good. 

Hongjoong gently broke the kiss, his fingertips brushing your hair away as he smiled, this was the happiest smile you had seen from him.

“Let’s enjoy the firework”, he whispered and pulled you closer, his arm curled around your shoulder. You snuggled against him and only slowly, forced your gaze to look at the colorful lights painting a picture over the ocean. You had seen many fireworks before but this one felt more breathtaking.

“Y/N…” Hongjoong mumbled.

“Hm?” 

“You should always celebrate your birthday, you know? Make it big, go and wish for whatever you want. Eat cake at the busiest places.”

“Mh, we can do that together,” you nodded.

“I’d have liked to celebrate more birthdays with you cause I hate the thought of you doing it alone,” he whispered.

Finally, the fear set in with you as you turned around and noticed how soft white light was radiating from Hongjoong’s body, something you saw before, a soul passing.

“Why would you say that?” you whispered. Oh no, no no.

Hongjoong smiled: “Live a happy and silly long life, okay? You got still good sixty years ahead of you, do all those things you want to.”

He was disappearing. Seonghwa said the only way for a demon to die was when something harmed them or they spent too much time in the human world. But you weren’t here for longer than maybe four hours… but it was based on a week, not a day. The shopping trip. Oh no.

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered but he tightened his embrace again. 

“You aren’t alone, silly. People are here for you, maybe not the way you think of them but here, for birthday cakes and text messages. To love you. Just trust it.”

Hongjoong looked at you and smiled, his hand placed on top of your head, ruffling your hair.

“But I want to be with you! Hongjoong!” you called out but the sad smile already told you that it was both, too late and him having made up his mind.

“I am sorry, Y/N. I need you to live a long and happy human life, okay? I won’t ever forget you.”

He leaned in, his lips closed as he slowly seemed to vanish. “Close your eyes,” he pleaded. As you looked at him, you regreted how little time you spent with him, how you did not just sit down, admiring his beauty for hours and... and you tried your best to close your eyes when the tears would not stop following.

Please, not again, not again. Please, do not take him away from me.

You begged to somebody, anybody but just as all the times before, they would not answer you.

As you kissed you, the sob ran through. 

“Thank you, Y/N, for finding me,” he breathed. He did not need to say it, you felt it. Once and for all, as clear as the sky above your head.

Hongjoong loved you. It was such a strong feeling, overwhelming but comforting, you wanted to whisper it back but it was stuck. Yet, somehow you felt he was smiling like he was telling you he knew you felt the same. As he leaned back, you felt his breath tickling your face, his hand on top of your head.

“Count to ten,” he whispered. You forced your eyes to remain shut, counting. Yet his picture in your mind clear as the day.

The confusion when you first met, the little annoyance, the blush, the look in the morning and his smile earlier.

10…9 … 8…. 7 …. 6

“Next time,” he whispered.

5… 4… 3…

“I’ll find you,” you promised.

…2

"Please wait for me."

….1.

The last firework exploded over your head and you opened your eyes. You blinked, confused and looked up. “Uh, what the fuck? Why am I crying over some fireworks?” Fingers stopped as you tugged on a jacket that was far too big for you but you liked the scent, wildflowers, something familiar.

As you carefully made your way up to the road again, you still did not manage to stop crying, just what was it? Some threw glances at you as you must seem like you just had the worst week of your life. Why was your heart so full of sorrow?

“Y/N? Hey, there you are, I was looking for you the entire week and then your location was very vague! Are you okay?”

Wooyoung’s face showed up and you blinked, his slender hands reached for your face and he scanned over you to see if you were injured, maybe hurt somehow. “How did you find me?” you asked, just to say anything but your friend seemed confused about the question. 

“You sent a text?” he pulled out his phone. “I admitted it didn’t sound like you but then, you did not show up at work for a week. I guessed something must have happened.”

A week huh? You looked at the text, coming from your number and this was the first time you noticed that little heart next to your name, making your cheeks heat up. 

text: firework, today, pick me up after. thanks.

Why was that? Then suddenly, it hit you like a realization and you looked up to Wooyoung. Ah, this was why it was hurting so much.

“I figured out that my soulmate is already… gone. I guess, as much as I always said it’d be fine without one… learning there really isn’t one was a bit much., especially if you never really met... or well, I am not sure how to describe the feeling”

Wooyoung seemed to be surprised before understanding: ”It’s probably insane but…same?” For a moment, the two of you just stood there, people passing by who went on their way home after the firework was done and the festival shut for the day. 

“Do you want me to drive you home?” his voice was soft, and there was some colors on his cheek. For a moment you looked at him and realized, Wooyoung had been part of your life for so long, always putting effort in but you had been so busy with your loneliness that you overlooked it.

Now you saw him clearly.

“I’d like that.”

Seonghwa relaxed against the small food stall, the owner ever so busy preparing more snacks. His soulmate joined him, a sweet smile on her lips as she followed his gaze. 

You and Wooyoung were chasing one another along the sandbank before he would catch you and pull you into his arm, soft kisses given to one another. The two humans seemed relaxed and happy, with each of them having a red string attached to their wrist, made of one piece, indicating their soulmate already moved on from this life, waiting in the next.

“I admit, I did not believe it was possible,” Seonghwa sighed but he was smiling. “Demons aren’t reborn but then, maybe they are? I am not sure if these two demons just have been so excellently stubborn that they managed to define our nature.”

His long arm curled around his soulmate, placing a kiss on top of her hair. 

He remembered the day like it was yesterday, the way how your past life looked at him so confidently, you never lacked confidence once you made your mind. When you knew you could not live for eternity like that, collect souls because you knew, Hongjoong would not be able to withstand it forever. He just was telling himself it was what he would do. How he dreamt of all those human things, caught in a life of pain. So when you left a century ago to set it into motion, so he could able to be free with you one day, you did so thinking he’d follow you no matter what.

Seonghwa's gaze lingered on your wrist. A demon’s string disappeared when they died, it made sense why yours was gone until you met Hongjoong. You weren't a demon anymore but human, his fading when you died the first time but returned once reunited. Fate never changed its mind once picking soulmates for one another.

Seonghwea sighed, looking up: “I bet, my best friend is somewhere vibing right out there, grinning like an idiot because he really managed to be reborn as a human, forever together with his beloved.”

He laughed: “Good! I do not expect anything but many happy lives from now on, Joongie.”

A life or so later …

“Y/N, you need to bring a date,” Wooyoung wined on the other line of the phone. It was hard to ignore your best friend even while being in the middle of a painting class. “It is my wedding, just bring anyone, really! I get it, you are super old-fashioned waiting around for Mister Soulmate, whom I feel sorry for based on your expectations: handsome, warm, smelling like flowers. Not easy to fulfil all of that”

You rolled your eyes as you dropped the brush and looked at your piece of art. “Well, being a professional violinist and having a needy best friend already keeps me busy, so I am good. If you care, I will bring somebody for the wedding. Now go, you do not want to miss your final suit fitting.” Wooyoung muttered but ended the call.

“Mh, this is familiar,” Jongho suddenly appeared next to you, making you jump. “How are you so quiet?” You asked but your fellow art lesson classmate grinned at you: “Secret, but I mean it. I think, there was a similar painting. Ah, wait a moment.”

He returned with a flyer from the art class: “Here, it’s one of the examples. It was painted by a former instructor a few years ago, Oasis in the desert. I mean, it isn’t exactly the same but it’s the same place? You said you just painted it out of your imagination?”

You could not deny how striking similar they were, just that you were by far not as talented as this person, barely an amateur painter as a small escape from your busy life as a violinist. ”Not at all… maybe it was a photo I once saw.”

Jongho frowned a little: “If you say so… You could just ask him tho? He’s a famous painter these days but I heard, he was giving a lecture today, on the other side of the building.”

You made a face, wanting to say if that would not be a bit strange but decided to keep the thought for yourself. “Anyway, I have to go. Need to get a wedding gift, I see you for the next class.” You waved, taking your bag and making your way to the exit.

It was the noises of falling shelves making you jump. You looked around until you noticed an open door of one of the art rooms. As you took out your phone, just in case it was an emergency, you paused.

“Hell?”

You blinked, looking at a red string around your wrist. For a moment you paused, in awe that it showed. You heard about it but you were about to give up. The noise again, a gentle hiss and you finally forced yourself to move.

A head of blue hair caught your attention first as you entered the scene of a few dozen empty canvases having fallen over and likely in an attempt to pick them up, led to more fall down, just that the man now was busy tugging on a string on his wrist.

There it was so clear, the red string, it remained visible just for your gazes to meet before all that was left were the strings, indicating that they had another end it belonged to.

“Are you okay?” you asked, unable to hide that little grin as your soulmate’s cheeks flushed and he managed to get himself up.

“Uhm, yes! I was trying to prepare an art lesson! Well, it seemed the art disagreed with me there,” he blinked and you could not deny how pretty he was. The blue hair seemed a little strong against his pale skin and features that almost felt a little unnatural for a person, too many piercings decorating his ear, an oversized jacket clinging to his shoulder like it was meant for somebody else.

“Need some help?” you asked and closed the door. He looked at you, almost lost when you stepped to him.

“That would be nice,” he whispered and blinked, pressing a hand against his eyes. “Uh… I swear I usually do not cry when I am meeting people.” Yet there he was, crying and somehow, you almost felt as if you could feel it.

“No worries, I get that,” you replied and closed the distance, suddenly hugging him.

He smelt like somebody familiar and before you know it, his arms curled around you. “Took you long enough, I was waiting forever,” you whispered, not sure why you said it.

It felt right and somehow, he knew exactly what you meant.”

Hongjoong sighed: “Sorry for being late.”

closing note: if you read up till here, thanks a lot. it was meant to end with hwa's pov but you know.

[mistmarigold]

Lovely runner fic (that’s completely canon)

Preview: After the radio interview when Sunjae talks about his first love and Sol wonders who it is.

[aka shoutout to original timeline sunjae and his suffering]

—

At last, he was finally free from his daily schedule and could finally get some rest. Boy, was he wrong.

The earlier conversation today wouldn’t leave his mind. Saying those words out loud, so many years later, it triggered something within him. For so many years, those feelings have been dormant. Forever there, etched in his very being. But saying them out loud like this gave them a new life. Inhyuk was always his person to share everything about Sol but then the accident happened. He no longer had it in him to talk about her when he failed to do the one thing he should’ve been able to do: protect her from any harm.

And so, acknowledging his first love out loud like that felt strange. Saying that it was a secret gave him a fake security blanket that he didn’t know he needed. But now, in the late hours of the night, his thoughts were consumed by her. Again.

If someone was to ask what has remained constant for him since his debut, the answer would be her. She has remained a constant, immovable force on his mind, heart and body. The scar he carried on his forehead was the literal proof that there was a moment in time and space when he held her in his arms. How cruel is fate that it had to be under circumstances that he wished would never exist for them, when she was on the brink of death, and when she lost the life she knew?

It wasn’t fair to her that he still loved her. He didn’t have any right to even think of her, let alone love her from afar. It wasn’t enough that he was no longer in her life, he shouldn’t even have the privilege of having the thought of her. She deserved better than that. If he could fail her in her most vulnerable moment, who was to say he wouldn’t do much worse?

That day, all he had to do was wake her up at their bus stop. Like normal human beings, like neighbours. But he didn’t, just because he couldn’t get over the nervousness of talking to his crush. How could mere nervousness lead to such a catastrophe? How could his minor oversight lead to her losing so much? How could he even be in her life when he knew he could’ve protected her from all of it in the first place? He might’ve saved her, but he failed to protect her and that’s something he could never get over.

In the early days of his debut, he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. It was hard for him to look at himself and meet his own eyes - he feared he would see a deep rot within. How was he reaping the benefits from a song that was written about her, while she was in so much pain? Their first time for the radio interview - they clapped, laughed and celebrated their debut. All the while she was in hospital, in excruciating pain and volatile grief that had nowhere to go.

When the radio host mentioned the sneakers, he wanted to hurl himself out the window. But he didn’t - he wanted to hear her voice more. It was the only opportunity he had to check in on her, to perhaps see if she knew him, but more importantly, to talk to her - something he couldn’t do by himself. Not on their first day, not in the store, and not on the bus. This was his only chance and so he told her the one thing he desperately wished to say to her: ‘Thank you for being alive’. Perhaps Sol might have thought he was being generic, that he was just saying things. But even if the circumstances were different, even if - by some miracle - the two of them were together, Sunjae would’ve still wanted to let her know how grateful he was that she was alive, that she existed in the same world as him. He would’ve never been able to express enough gratitude for her existing in his life.

In the early hours of the morning, Sunjae wondered if Sol was doing well. He hoped that she was thriving, despite the cruel hand the fate dealt her with. He prayed that she still had that same smile on her face as the first day they met; that she slept as peacefully as that day in her mom’s store; that she held on and lived.

He desperately hoped she lived.

[aclowntiny]

Black Flag, Black Hearts? Falling for Pirate!Ateez (Meeting Pirate!Ateez Part 2- Female Reader)

One (1) request for part 2 was all it was going to take to continue one of my favorite pieces hehe… but I got 2 🥲🥹 hope y’all enjoy this one too! 🏴‍☠️ plenty more where this AU came from 😉

Warnings: suggestive content, a little more gun mention this time, some violence, blood, death implication

☠Hongjoong☠

As breath returned to your body and pain subsided, you were held to no debt. Should have known, really, that the thieves robbing thieves sought not to use a life as a transaction. Legend had gotten the best of you once and you dared not repeat that.

For your own honor, honor far beyond that of the so-called law, it seemed fit for a thanks, though. Fit for some token of gratitude immeasurable, for how does one quantify life? Your tavern was ash beside, so what tether had you to the land? No job, no marriage, not even a debt to escape. Much as you might miss a few polite regulars, it was likely you could disappear unnoticed.

And disappear you did, shoving off with the Eightfold as the new cook. One of the others bore the mantel for some time, bid you share it with him for his own joy, but their captain insisted you were far better suited for it. From what you knew of men, that could easily prove true.

Bringing a woman aboard, necessity though it may have been, proved great fun for the raucous middle-mates, as you called them. Not the youngest, not the eldest, just dreadfully, wonderfully boisterous people the likes of whom always got feet stomping back in the tavern.

And stomp feet they did, insisting you must dance with them after so long a drought of partners to reel or otherwise with atop the waves. You were earning your sea legs, wondering if you might have a tilt akin to theirs at your next port stop, so why not challenge yourself with a dance or three?

Skirts in hand, you circled Mingi, who had laughingly unbuckled his pistol belt at your wary glance. Too many a shot had drunkenly or exuberantly fired into a floorboard or a foot for you not to. The tall gunslinger danced like Old Man Jo's hound dog, unaware of strength that could bowl a woman over, but far too kind to wish that. The pair of you laughed a lot before you were handed off to San, who took you gently by the hands and spun you with delicate care, reminding you more of the sweet childhood cat that used to curl at your side whenever you took ill or cried. What a whirlwind before you, nearly a stitch in your chest, got passed to Wooyoung, who found a nice middle ground between push-and-pull and treating you like glass, but coupled with the unfortunate side effect of being a little handsier than necessary, his grip sliding lower on your hip.

And that, that was when you saw it. Like a shadow, a falcon poised for an elegant, precise swoop, your dance partner's Captain stood glaring, stare intense as every wanted poster that had crossed your path made it out to be. Spine tingling as it was wont to do at that look, you found your attention transfixed upon Hongjoong as he strode up to Wooyoung, authority resounding in each strike of his boots. Wooyoung smiled, somehow half proudly and half sheepishly, a wave crashed, and still glaring Hongjoong gave a jerk of his head and a few quiet words that had his junior scurrying off.

Then he was before you, entire affect altered, face a sole mask of concern. It was as if you peered into completely different eyes. "I told him not to touch you like that," he told you, voice dark only as you'd heard once before, just on that fateful night you thought you'd met your end, "he shouldn't dare."

Serious as the captain sounded, you couldn't help smiling. "Thank you. Don't be too hard on him, though, I've dealt with worse. Think he just forgot himself. Why don't you show him how it's done, then?"

That earned you a slightly cocky grin, that satisfied look you frankly couldn't get enough of. "With pleasure. May I, then?”

His hands hovered until you nodded, then one took yours and the other held your waist, this time far more proper than his predecessor’s hold. You had nothing to compare this dance to, no parallel of memory to the way Hongjoong made you feel.

“This moonlight becomes you,” he remarked quietly, “becomes you far more than galley lamps. You are our Diana then.”

Goddess of the moon. The moon which did hang like a great wide monocular gaze over your dance, the way your hand reflexively tightened over Hongjoong’s shoulder at the return of his honeyed words. “You think so highly of me?” Was all you could ask, surprisement coloring your face and tone alike.

“Suppose I need to get better at showing it,” Hongjoong joked in response, but something stirred in his gaze that confirmed it better than words.

Since that night, Hongjoong spent more time than ever in the galley, playing guessing games with you about your destination and playfully rolling his eyes when you made the man stop and eat something for once.

“What can I say,” you shot back at his teasing smile, “I’m trying to get better at showing it, too.”

☠Seonghwa☠

Your sack was as full of little trinkets-and even a bit of new clothing-as your heart was apprehension. Every thud of your soles upon the planks of the dock, then the ship, echoed beats of your heart. Live on as you may, nothing could have properly prepared you that morning for the fact that there was no return to your old life, that a gentleman claiming to be a pirate would whisk you away to his ship.

Upon setting foot upon the deck, Seonghwa undid your handkerchief, revealing his handsome face as he handed it back, and clapped a hand to the shoulder of another man, this one tall, smiling, and a bit fair.

Said man nodded your way, shocking you with as friendly a smile as you had ever seen. “And who might this be?”

“My name,” you answered, internally cursing the small voice such apprehension had produced, “is (y/n). I took interest in your First Mate’s cartography.”

“She has an interest in all the arts, it seems,” Seonghwa added, a touch of pride coloring his voice, “I saw the way she admired weaving, blown glass…”

The other man tilted his head, still smiling. “Oh, really? Well, have you any skills in its study along with your valuation our captain will take quite a liking to you.” So the ship did not belong to him.

You swallowed, shuffling a bit forward from Seonghwa’s side, feeling the sudden absence of warmth there. “Are you art thieves, then?”

“In a manner of speaking,” another voice rang at your back, several bootfalls following it.

Turning on your heels, skirts swirling about your feet, you were faced with the intense gaze and proud smile of a man in a long, billowing black jacket, a gold pin shining upon its lapel. The designs on his waistcoat were intricate yet sharp, clearly hand-painted. Perhaps he’d stolen that too.

“For what does my First Mate bring you here?” Imposing words, yet with a tone clearly meant to put you at ease.

“For my love of the arts, it seems,” you replied, trying your best to look the man you took to be Captain in the eyes, “my question stands if it may: are you art thieves?”

The captain’s hand fully left his side, dropping your heart at the realization he likely concealed a blade there. “Have you heard what happened to the Egyptians? Their craftsmanship scooped up to line the halls of the rich. The great monarchs of the world with their hoards of untouched advancement? Creations returned to their creators. Wealth in the hands of the poor. Do you call that an art thief?” He looked quite satisfied at the dropping of your jaw.

“I call that right. The- the authorities say you kill and pillage.”

“Of course they do,” Seonghwa chimed in with a snort, “they want you to turn us in, do they not? I beg your pardon, ma’am, but you see why I say stories are to be doubted.”

“I do,” you nodded, “but I am no thief, just an admirer.”

“Could you identify a fake if you laid eyes upon it?”

“A counterfeit?”

“I suppose I could try. My art education is not exactly extensive, but if I cannot return home, at least I can continue it still.”

“Then it is settled. Excellent recruit, Seonghwa,” the Captain said, “go make sure she is comfortable.”

~

“You have so many wonderful things, Seonghwa. Are they gifts?”

The First Mate had led you down a hatch, down a set of stairs into a cozy little wood space that reminded you faintly of a hayloft. There was a bed already, a mattress draped with a quilt bearing some traditional pattern you didn’t quite recognize, likely a gift from travels prior. He helped you set your assortment of glass animals upon the claw-footed chest-of-drawers that sat against the wall across from the bed, even dusting off the looking glass for you. You’d remarked that it was a nice room-a lamp was already set upon the nightstand and a painting on the wall- but a mite lonely, so Seonghwa showed you his quarters across the hall. Jointed figures of wood covered one dresser, several ships in bottles resting in various places upon his bookshelf.

“Some of them, yes. The fine carvings are gifts, the cruder ones my own attempts,” he chuckled, “assembling a ship in a bottle is about all I’m good for.”

“And how does one do that?” You asked.

He’d sat you down on one side of a little table, his seat shuffled right at your side. Bits and pieces of tiny masts and sails were scattered about. You saw a tiny wheel, the smallest seagulls you’d ever laid eyes upon, all resting upon the finely stained wood. Picking up a pair of very long, thin tools, Seonghwa slid the bottle closer between you. “Very carefully.”

His smile made you smile, leaning in to watch him assemble it all. He named every piece of the ship, taught you which was port and starboard, pointed out the carven mermaid figurehead of the ship. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Look closer. She looks a lot like you.”

Your lips parted, failing to form words as heat crept across your cheeks. Suddenly you were quite thankful for the oil lamp’s safe distance from all the wooden bits and bobs. The legends certainly were lies, for never had you felt more comfortable, any safer, than at the table of a pirate.

☠Yunho☠

"Another round, then, on me!" One of the Eight, the one who seemed most worthy of being Captain beside the man in the gold pin himself, called out to the almost creakingly full table, raising his tankard heartily.

"I believe you mean on me, Jongho," you replied, plucking the intricately filigreed mug from his hand and grabbing his neighbor San's too, turning the smooth fired rim in your hand.

Some months ago your inherited estate had been a dull, lonely cave of finery, joy of almost every dress and other beautiful thing you had inherited gone at the loss of family and company that had befallen you alongside it. What care had you for silken curtains hanging in a parlor no one sat in or a grand piano with no audience? Indeed, the sea was your greatest companion, solitude drowned out by whistling wind, crashing waves, and the sensation of feet upon sand. Such forces of nature offered much greater solace from your thoughts than anything of mankind, yet utterly void of their touch.

Now those once-consuming thoughts were but a laughable memory. Raucous song filled your parlor and kegs of ale your cellar lest the Eightfold arrive after a drop at their hollow on your beach, filling their cave with yet another chest of gold and stolen riches before making their way to you, presenting you with beachside finds and the odd gifted artifact, often a figurine for your many surfaces and shadowboxes.

"You're wearing a new dress every time we see you," another pirate, this one by the name of Wooyoung, remarked.

"I was given so many," you replied from your countertop, shrugging as you filled the two mugs.

"And jewelry, no doubt."

"Why," you shot back, reentering the dining room with a careful grip upon the now foam-topped vessels, dodging a flying arm punch between pirates, "do you plan to rob me after all this time?"

"No, I was just wondering why with all you've got you wear those silly shells about your wrist every single day."

As you laid your cargo down your eyes instinctively fell to the string of small orange shells Yunho had made you the day you met, then flicked to the pirate himself. "Perhaps it is important to me," you replied, nose in the air and heart in your throat.

Clearing some plates off the table and straightening the lace runner was supposed to distract you, but of their own accord your eyes fell to Yunho, whose gaze rested solely upon you. Hurrying, you shuffled to the kitchen, setting the plates aside the basin with the rest.

When all was said and done for your meal, you returned to the parlor for song, caring not for whatever sand tracked into the flowered carpet. You could clean. Passing through the doorway, you heard the voices of the young men squabbling over whose turn at the piano it was.

"Let me, please, I've a good one," you heard Yunho request, voice a soft plea to the others' raised bickers, "and I believe I still owe our hostess, all things considered."

"He is right, you know," you chimed in from your lean upon the threshold, arms crossed, “did he tell you the tale?”

"Ha!" Taking the bench and apparently ignoring the nature of the tale, which involved his blade upon your throat, Yunho swatted the two men on either side of him upon the head with the backs of his hands and began to play.

No shock was it for a man with hands like that to be adept at playing the piano. Nor the sweetness of his voice, the likes of which you'd been graced with prior, even if it was chorusing a shanty. The words he sang, however, raised brows.

From a sailor's perspective, the whole of it was a lament of missing a woman while upon the sea, and missing her dearly. Yunho charmed the keys and poured out genuine emotion with every note of his sweet voice, bidding you wonder if he’d had a woman at port the whole time.

Everyone applauded him, naturally, when he finished, but as he rose from the bench and urged Seonghwa forward in his stead, again his eyes fell upon you.

“Who is she, this woman who charms such shanties out of you? Not a pirate queen, it seems?” You inquired, raising an eyebrow and straightening your brooch.

“I plan to make one of her yet. She certainly has no fear of making a mess of herself at the sea’s edge. I’ve never seen a smile like hers, but she’ll set a man straight if she wants to. She flew a kite with me once, and that was how I knew it would be murder stepping off her shores again.”

You’d flown kites together the previous month. He hadn’t one before, yours a gift to him. “Has she any token of her sailor?” You asked, swallowing and taking a step closer, lest you misread the man who’d made you a string of shells, run a hand over it every time you danced- and that was certainly much more than with any other crewmate.

At that, Yunho lifted your hand up by the wrist, presenting those same beads of nature you never had the heart to go without. They were as a sign to you- a sign you were never truly to be without companionship again. His hand held yours so gently, like a gentleman, before he placed a kiss to the back of it.

“From the moment I met her, I knew I couldn’t leave her without her wearing some sign of me. Aren’t I selfish?” He smiled, looking for all the world like a proud, mischievous boy you couldn’t quite bring yourself to discipline. “What a pirate. Even from an apology I seek something for myself.”

“Funny, my pirate is always saying his riches don’t belong to him. Saying things like he and his friends have rebuilt half of Seonghwa’s hometown with the money that had been fattening kings.”

“Your pirate, hm?” Yunho gazed into your eyes, fluttering his lashes as he brought your hand closer, pulling it near his chest, your face warming with the gesture. “I like the sound of that. Do you think of me, then, as I think of you?”

“I feel as though I am counting the days until your return,” you admit with a flush.

“Then let us be as otters on the sea, always holding each other afloat,” Yunho whispered, leaning to press a kiss to your lips, soft, chaste, and yet loving enough to spin your head, “come with me. You are more than a lady at the dock- I would have you by my side.”

☠Yeosang☠

You said yes.

Water lapped at the sides of the boat, swaying it comfortingly. The Captain had looked upon Yeosang with surprise, then some degree of annoyance, as they spoke outside of your earshot, but the moment he dubbed you a jeweler it was all smiles.

You’d have assignments before you knew it, but such would come to pass seemingly ages after the moment’s heaven. Shrugging the covers higher, you shuddered under the chill of untouched silk upon warm skin.

"Cold?" Yeosang slipped a bit closer, a hand running up and down your upper arm.

"Faintly," you replied, lashes fluttering into your gaze upon his visage, obscuring the beautiful candlelit image.

"Well, is it any small wonder? You've no clothes on!"

"I wonder who did that," you teased.

"I wonder," Yeosang repeated, smiling and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Nestling into the crook of his arm, you chuckled contentedly, gaze briefly flicking up to the crisscrossing of rafters making possible your hazy shelter. Glancing to the side, you caught a faraway look in Yeosang’s eyes as he gazed upon you, one you internally, half-jokingly, hoped was not regret.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked.

He flushed. No getting shy now, you wanted to say.

“I-I was wondering,” he began, trailing off sheepishly.

You loved that about him- such a man, and yet sweet as a lamb. What a wonderful contradiction.

“Yes?” You prompted.

“Now that we are nine,” Yeosang continued, shifting slightly beneath the covers, “will you…will you stay in my quarters?”

It was your turn to feel heat rising to your cheeks. So soon he wished that? Perhaps you should have been scared, but every risk you had taken, even leaving your hometown behind, had done nothing but excite and content you. All you felt was flattered, joyed, satisfied that you truly had made the pirate in the tavern yours.

“If you wish it, I will gladly stay here,” you replied with a smile, voice barely above a whisper.

“Huzzah!” He exclaimed quietly, hands balling into little fists about the sheets as he smiled widely. “It gets lonely in here, you know. But now I have the finest company of all.”

Your heart beat rapidly. “You shall also have the highest traffic- everyone will need the work of the jeweler’s daughter ere we know it,” you teased.

“Well,” Yeosang loosened one of his hands, sliding it beneath both layers of the blankets and sheets to take yours, giving it a squeeze, “that is a hazard I gladly accept.”

☠San☠

"I do care. I care to make new of my life," you told San, "for though you say you are wanted I see nothing but a good man. What place would your crew have for a shoe-shine girl?”

“You, Miss (y/n), are far more than that. The fact that you see the good in others is refreshing alone. Sometimes simplicities like that are forgotten in my line of work. I try to keep to them myself. When I saw you, I saw what I seek to be,” San replied, “if you join my crew, I can promise a home. I can promise adventure. But I cannot promise you freedom from things that could shatter the wonder in your eyes. Piracy is no easy job.”

Perhaps a part of you wanted to hear that word, but still your chest clenched, hand tightening slightly too around the note you held out, wind fluttering your hair. An eerie stillness resided within it, still an absence of passersby. The man before you truly was no ordinary sailor.

“When you say you want to give back to a place like this…” You began, trailing off beneath San’s intense gaze.

“We steal. We do,” San answered matter-of-factly, surely steeled in spite of any fanciful idealism, “but we have plenty. Towns like this? Places where priceless artifacts are stolen as trinkets or spectacles? Some thievery only rights thievery.”

He truly cut a dashing figure, trim and noble and a quiet sort of bold. Folly or not, you believed the man who showed you the kindness of a new life, be it in simple prosperity or adventure. Adventure of spying your first breaching of dolphins or tasting the fruit of a neighboring land, of unlocking some stolen artifact or even fighting burly men off your friend who’d started a barfight. Swinging off a ship’s rope. All the stories San had regaled you with as you shined his boots.

“I want to go with you.”

~

Humanity, not pity, was truly the way of the Eightfold. Not a one treated you like a stray they'd adopted off the streets, not like the people with high noses of your former home. You, rather, were an opportunity.

They all smiled at the way your eyes widened at the boat's rocking. Never had you been adrift before. Two of them climbed you up to the crow's nest and you, fighting off the shudderings of fear at the newfound height, leaned out over the glittering expanse, feeling as a bird or the north wind herself. And sure were they that your greatest skill would be found in no time. You'd offered to swab the deck, but San was insistent you'd done enough cleaning for now.

"We can make Mingi do that," he teased the tall, sharp-eyed marksman who'd surprised you with a boyish love of attention, nodding his way.

"Oi!" Mingi started up after him, pointing at the man who'd helped you decorate your new quarters. "Let Seonghwa keep doing it, he's the only one that likes it."

"I don't like it, I'm the only one who does it right!"

"Boys, boys," the captain held out hands, grinning in amusement, "you'll all have a turn at the deck, don't you worry. As for (y/n), San is right. She's more than earned something new."

'Something new' came in the form of another nerve-wracking crow's nest climb, steep ramps of fear with each hand over the other, and yet such a great reward. Stars now provided shine to the roiling sea, night sky reflecting it an inky black besides.

"Takes my breath away every time," San muttered at your side, looking at the water as if the stars weren't already in his widened eyes.

"I can imagine. Why do we come out here so late, though?"

"'Tis time for sextant training," San replied with a smile.

"Time for what?" You burst out in response, eyes flicking away from his back to the sea-never off the bottom of the crow's nest again, that was a one-time mistake-as your face rapidly warmed.

From your vision's peripheries, San held up a brass instrument boasting a pair of mirrors. "This, Miss (y/n), is how we find ourselves. Celestial bodies help us determine our location," he replied, gentle tone greatly contrasting yours. If he was surprised by the raising of your voice, such puzzlement remained with him.

"Very well," you replied, perhaps a bit too hastily, "let me see how it works."

~

You were a natural with the navigation device, an expert. Well, according to San, who convinced Captain Hongjoong that his shoe-shine girl was a perfect navigator. The sweet words he always had for you, the 'my' added to your old nickname, that one smile it seemed he reserved for you, well, it all accumulated in your heart like grains of sand lodged within an oyster, ever mindful of their presence. Grains rapidly expanding, shining into pearls.

San and you were to pose as an aristocrat couple, the rest of his crew having procured fine clothes from their stock. The dress they gave you was so beautiful, finer silk than had ever touched your skin, that you sat and simply admired it for a moment before even dressing. The pink fabric hugged your body perfectly, accentuating your figure far beyond what you could have ever imagined, even if the low neckline of current vogue had you flushing a bit. Then in came San, reflected in the looking glass as he cut a dashing figure in a tailored suit complete with a delicately embroidered waistcoat. Surely your eyes lingered a bit too long, but you could nary help yourself as he made purposeful strides to your side.

As you rose, rotating to face him, his mouth fell agape, lips parting in…shock?

“Quite different from my usual rags, is this not?” You joked in response.

“You look beautiful,” San breathed, his next step slower, almost reverent, “but it needs one final touch. Do you have my gift?” This time, his tone was a bit shy.

“Yes, of course,” you replied, making the short way to your dresser where you’d wrapped it up for safekeeping and procuring it, “right here.”

“If- if you’d be all right with it,” San said, “please keep that as your spoil. We pirates keep a sign of our first plunder, and though this was a gift, I would be so happy to see you wear it as such.”

Your eyes fell to the dripping gems, topaz alternating between classic yellow and the pink that perfectly matched the gown left at your door. No woman that you could imagine would have denied such elegant craftsmanship, such shine adorning her chest, but San’s expression was so deadly serious, so searching, that that would have been enough.

You nodded, giving a smile you hoped to be reassuring. “Of course, San.”

He broke out into the widest look of joy and flooding relief you’d ever seen, as though someone had just told him all his debts were paid. “Then let me put it on you,” he continued, rushing over to your side once more and gently lifting the necklace from your hands.

His hands shook, yet his fingers, surely trained from their reliefs of spoils, deftly clasped the chain about you as they gently, warmly, brushed your skin. From your peripheries you saw him tilt his head, and something in you bid you turn. You did, meeting him there as your lips connected, San’s holding yours, guiding them so softly he might have thought them glass. Your chest burst triumphantly, as if those fireworks your old home’s mayor had brought in to launch off the docks from China had been lit within your soaring heart.

There was that look again, that dimpled smile of pure joy, those eyes softened as they met yours, when San finally straightened again, parting with the sweet sorrow of old. “Well, it looks like we’ll play this couple role well tonight, won’t we?”

All you could do was nod, heart fluttering as he took your hand, leading you from your room as one might a bride, pearls in your heart glistening like the rainbows of a renewed sky.

☠Mingi☠

The first thing you did was strip your corset off.

Mingi had spirited you away to his quarters while he sought to go, in his words, “explain you”. He was almost naively confident that you would be accepted, leaving you to your own devices in his space with ease. Before leaving, he had dropped a pair of trousers that might fit you on his hammock, the whimsical waving space where he took his rest. Thank the stars, they fit, lacing up at the front like the reverse of your horrendous undergarments and actually allowing you to-shock of shocks!- loosen them as needed.

There was a long scroll of paper hanging by a nail on the wall. It was plain white save for strokes of ink down its surface, gorgeous brushstrokes of calligraphy. Brushing your fingers against the bottom of it, you wondered whose delicate hand might have drawn it. As it was, you were dressed and Mingi hadn’t exactly bidden you wait any certain amount of time, so you creaked your way back up the steps and onto the deck, seal ring hanging in scornful display about your chest.

The pirate had leant you trousers, knee-high boots, and a white tunic to tuck in, and while you felt a bit self-conscious at the open chest a part of you smiled. This would have had the aristocratic courts you’d been thrust in you fainting at the sight-even showing a bit of ankle was a bit unseemly, yet there you were. What a relief it was to stride in trousers, let a little skin breathe.

You almost walked into Mingi in your reverie, stopping just short of a collision as he excitedly announced you’d made the crew a Ninefold.

“I have? Your captain is letting me stay, then?”

Mingi didn’t answer, just stood stock still, jaw falling a bit open. The only sound around you was the breeze, a lone seagull calling out from the clouds.

“Mingi?”

He shook his head, a sudden jerking motion. “My apologies. I just…” His expression turned sheepish, back to that kind look that initially endeared you. “I thought you were pretty before, but wow…”

The compliment, that kind smile, the sheer innocence, all had your heart turning over. What sort of feeling was that?

~

“Selfishly I am quite glad you chose learning to shoot.”

Mingi had set up something of a shooting gallery for you, the crew’s entirety having insisted upon your learning some form of combative measures for defense at least. Being unsure as you were regarding your readiness for the brutality of the sword, you felt it a clear choice: learn to shoot. The tall pirate who had rescued you, if doing the opposite to your unfortunate boor of a betrothed and his companions who attempted a foolish fight, was the ship’s adept with firearms, handing you the very same revolver which had killed your near-captor.

It was heavy in your hand, both physically and in the most literary of senses, as if you yourself had now borne the weight of a life ended. The weapon had beautiful mother-of-pearl inlays decorating its wood, metal shined freshly. Mingi clearly cared for the things, and quite dashing they were up close.

“Now, remember, no finger on the trigger until you are ready to shoot. Aim for the box there,” Mingi pointed, guiding you toward an old broken crate he’d propped on a barrel, assuring you it was trash anyway.

Willing your hand not to shake, you held up a revolver in both hands, aiming at the crate before your index finger slid to the trigger, pulling it back. You knew it was coming and yet the kick had you stumbling. Your first shot was a bit low, striking the upper edge of the barrel. Of course you apologized, but Mingi just laughed and waved a hand, flashing you that wonderfully kind grin.

“Here, let me help you aim,” he told you as he stepped behind you, standing flush to your back and taking hold of your elbow, sliding his hand up as he stayed your arm.

Haze descended into every crevasse of your brain at the warmth of his hip against yours, thicker than that day he’d paid you compliment. His words had made you a fool…

“Alright, (y/n), now!”

BANG!

“That’s my girl!” Turning you around, this time with hands upon your hips, Mingi smiled right into your haze, sea breeze ruffling his hair and whipping through yours.

You grinned back, leaping for joy beneath his hold. A fool you were to be, but an accurate one yet.

☠Wooyoung☠

You slapped the hand of the pirate who called himself Wooyoung off the curve of your waist as he strode triumphantly out of the tavern with you.

“Quit that, you’re not taking me home,” you chided.

He grinned. “I live on the ship. I’m taking you to the ship.”

“To speak with your Captain. See if he’s even got the room for me you think he does.”

“If you’re half as vicious in a fight, he will indeed.”

“You seem to think me quite a fighter for someone with no proof,” you teased.

“We could always wrestle.”

Another slap, this one markedly softer than the last, though. You shook your head, fighting a smile as you crossed the streets, inching ever closer to the docks, the waves surrounding your hometown. Night had closed firmly in upon the patchwork of angles and shingles that were your mess of a birthplace, casting shadows from every eave you passed beneath. Soon, though, you made your way upon the dock, Wooyoung walking you up to the side of a ship bearing the black flag. You knew your ramshackle town was quite friendly with outlaws, but it still rose an eyebrow how bold this man Wooyoung and his crew flaunted their thievery.

“Here we are,” said pirate waved a braceleted hand at the ship’s gangplank, allowing you to lift your skirt and tap up it first, “home sweet home.”

No sooner had you set foot upon the deck than did a voice ring out at your side, another pirate emerging from the shadows. “I know you threatened to find a tavern girl to take home, Wooyoung, but have some class. Is that fair to her?”

No man cowed you anymore. You stepped right over to him, pointed-heel boots thudding upon wood hollower than that of your workplace. “I am only here to speak to your Captain. Nothing more, nothing less. If anyone conquers anyone, it shall be me to his false bravado,” you told the pirate, nodding back to the man you’d danced with.

“He’s a good man beneath it all,” the dark-haired pirate all but whispered.

“I suspected,” you replied. For all Wooyoung’s talk, he held you gently, swayed you merrily, treated you like a far finer thing than a night. Something in him must have thought it unfitting for a man in his position or else found it entertaining. Honestly, likely the latter. “He wishes to make a pirate queen out of a hellhole’s barmaid,” you chuckled, “No one has ever helped me before.”

“He sees something special in you, and I can see why. Welcome to the Eightfold.”

“If your Captain consents,” you shot back.

“I do,” the man who’d melted from the shadows grinned, fingers reaching up to a gold jolly roger pin upon the lapel of his flowing jacket, clearly some symbol of status, “you’ve much spirit indeed, Miss.”

~

You were willing to throw a punch and knew how to prepare the odd fruit the Eightfold had two crates of, and that was good enough for them. They all insisted you were a worthy recruit for quelling barfights alone. Flattering. At least they made good on their promise to get you a sword. The thing felt good in your hand, that much more satisfying than the knife you'd already hidden for the journey to the ship.

Ever an authority of insistence, Wooyoung pushed for his crew to throw a little party to welcome you. Likely an excuse to swing you around the deck, you reflected with a smirk.

Sure enough, as three of his crewmates procured instruments, he bowed like a gentleman at some high-class affair and offered his hand. "May I show our pirate queen a good time?"

You took it. "You may, though I'll stick with 'newest member' for now."

The pair of you stepped in a merry circle to kick off the first upbeat dance before Wooyoung wrapped a hand around your waist from the side, ready to whirl. "Funny, I'd have said 'best looking'," he shot back.

"Oh? That's not you, my daring highwayman?"

You spied a quite unfamiliar bashfulness creep through Wooyoung's smile, his stark gaze dropping a bit beneath the repetition of tunes and the crashing of small waves and the stomping of boots. The look lasted but a moment, replaced by the old standby of wicked fun. "Highwayman? High-seas-man, perhaps!"

"However you like to fancy yourself," you replied, smiling back despite your words.

You'll give the man that: the neverending battle of wits made for good fun, flowing as much a force of nature for you as those surging waves. He was a good dancer, too.

No sooner had you thought that then did the push and pull and twirl overtake, your feet quite literally being swept off as you were dipped low to the deck, a hand instinctively moving to Wooyoung's chest to stabilize yourself. The vee of his tunic was quite deep, your balancing act catching far more of him than of fabric. Another thing he had in his favor, you reflected as your dance partner slid a hand to the back of your head, angling you a bit lower in the process. He leaned a bit further in, nose almost touching yours.

Your eyelashes fluttered as you spoke, voice low. "Not with everyone watching," you told him, pushing back up on his chest in a way that had him standing you back up as the notes faded out into the night's wind.

As you sauntered off to fetch a drink, you caught Wooyoung's eyes following you even more intensely, chest blooming and lips rising with satisfaction.

☠Jongho☠

He’d offered his arm and you’d taken it. A stroll like two lovers meeting, and yet you were leading a pirate to aid in robbing your gracious host. Resisting a dark chuckle, you simply exhaled, giving a little shake of your head. Nothing like you'd expected of the fine evening.

Jongho hummed at your side, tilting his head in question as you passed beneath parted velvet curtains through a columned doorway out to the garden path.

"This is simply...not what I expected of the evening," you spoke into his silent query.

“You can always turn back,” he offered, still looking imperceptibly matter-of-fact.

At that, you shook your head. “Not now. This is an opportunity to be a part of something. To have purpose beyond another. I think maybe that is a better step than falling in love first.”

At that, Jongho smiled, leading you further until you stopped beneath a silver trellis, where three other men stood. “I agree. Well, I say here should be a fair stop. I thank you for-” He froze, grip loosening on your arm.

Following his gaze, you saw another man, fair-haired and finely dressed, standing only about two metres off, an azalea bush only slightly obscuring him. “Not one of your others, is he?”

Jongho shook his head.

“What should we do?” You asked quietly.

Another of Jongho’s men, a tall figure with dark hair and a blade sheathed at his side, replied from the ivy-covered rendezvous point. “If we had something to knock him out with, maybe he’d forget what he saw long enough for us to leave.”

You had heard of that- all it took was a great enough weight, right? Stooping as much as your dress allowed, you hoisted up a little marble statue of a cherub seated on a little pedestal, book in hand. “This should do, right?”

Another of the men, this one with shining black bangs like curtains, nodded and smiled impishly. The tall gentleman-er, pirate- with the blade began a nod, then his entire countenance, face and posture, faded into shock as you lunged forward, knocking the angel into the man’s head and sending him falling backwards. Your stomach heaved at the crimson rivulet streaming from where he lie, hands shooting to your face.

“Is he- Did I..?” Your voice rose barely above a whisper as the carven angel, now dripping with blood, clattered onto a tile from your loosening fingers.

"We need to run," Jongho said, taking hold of your wrist this time as he shuffled through the trellis, "all of us."

"But wait-" You protested beneath his careful hold, running on instinct in an attempt to keep up with the rapid pumping of his legs, barely avoiding catching your skirts.

"If anyone sees that you did that, you could be hanged as a m-" The third man, one with wide, innocent eyes, spoke up, words quite in contrast to his demeanor.

"That's enough," Jongho cut him off, still plodding down the tile trail past the home's prize rosebushes, "(y/n), this place is not safe for you. Run away with us."

You felt sick, but your heart fluttered- out of nerves or excitement, you could hardly tell. All you did was nod weakly, chest burning with heavy breaths from your sprint out the garden gate with four men you barely knew.

~

Guilt wound its way through your chest like a cold snake at what transpired in the garden that night, and yet you found comfort in the pirates who had whisked you to their ship. Being the Eightfold, there were four others beside Jongho and the three who'd looted your hosts that evening, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa. Mingi, another tall, imposing pirate, removed his wide-brimmed hat and held it as his chest.

"The first one is always the hardest," he said, and in his tone rested clouds of such a deep sadness that you could nary even question his meaning.

The men gave you such a royal welcome, distracting you with rousing song and dance and more questions and stories than your head could spin at. They’d brought an octopus on deck, taught you how to play tavern card games no lady would have dared touch at home, and hosted a mock trial with Jongho presiding as judge when First Mate Seonghwa ‘tried Captain Hongjoong for high piracy’. You’d expected Jongho to play a serious judge, yet his character broke his dry persona by playing with his gavel and shouting at inopportune times. They saw the way you still balked at sparring, however.

"Do you regret it?" Jongho asked you one day, striding to your side and joining you in leaning upon the edge of the ship, watching the passage of white-capped waves.

“Of course I do. I was so caught up in the moment, I had no inkling I- I- something like that could come of my hand. But I think what I regret more was the faint part of me that enjoyed it. Something completely untouched, utterly foreign woke in me and rushed through my veins and I fear what could come of releasing it again.”

You heard Jongho inhale at your side, felt his exhale faintly against you with the brush of his tunic upon your own shirt. “I will tell you this: we pirates at least never kill without a very, very good reason. And what you did, you did not realize. It was not so in your heart. You were afraid, had just seen a fight, felt for the first time in your life you had something to defend. Would you not say?”

You stared into the shine of Jongho’s deep eyes. He spoke so closely into your mind, it was as if he had been there himself. The waves surrounding you drowned out your emotion, grounded your tears with swirls far more powerful than you could ever truly comprehend. He was right. All your life, you had been taught to seek something to hold onto. In your upbringing, that had been someone else, the security of a man, a fortuitous marriage. An education perhaps, were you feeling any inclination to teach in a prestigious field. Anything to increase the size of your twinkle in society’s eyes. Never fighting to take care of your life. Never to find what it was you wanted. Certainly not learning how to fish just because the fancy had taken you and a crewmate on a still day. All of this came pouring forth from your heart to your lips, no tears accompanying the words, just a tired shudder, a slump as you fell into what felt like a waking sleep, your body truly able to relax from its admissions.

Jongho tensed a bit when your head hit his shoulder. Fatigued as you were, you shot up instantly, leaning further upon the wood again. The strong man before you was, you gathered, the least in favor of the others’ brotherly holds. What a nuisance you must have seemed…

He looked at you with those searching eyes again, the eyes that seemed to bore into thoughts that had barely even come to fruition for you. “It’s all right. I understand. You need this.” He patted his shoulder, welcoming you back. “If you want to.” His gaze darted a bit as he smiled softly, breaking the so-steady contact that had you both wishing to hide away the shadows he saw and lean into it completely.

Something snapped in your chest at that look, yet another of Jongho’s many surprises you’d seen since he first broke your dance to manhandle a villain. For seeming such a smile man, he understood you so much more than you him. Maybe someday that would change.

As it was, you gratefully leaned again, bobbing with the sea in silence save for her mighty roar.

[legitalicat]

Forged From Death - Sihtric Kjartansson x Widow!Reader

An: Thank you so much @foxyanon for the request and officially turning me into a Sihtric girl. I hope this is everything you wanted. And @zaldritzosrose thank you for creating the header you are amazing!

Masterlist here!

Separate from the normal CW section for a special attention. This is going to be dark as reader thinks cruelty of her husband, Sigefrid, and her father towards those around them. No explicit examples of violence or abuse. I really was just trying to capture emotions without talking of direct acts.

CW: Language, political marriage really, Sigefrid is not a good man, neither was reader's father, warlord husband and father, scared child, character death, P IN V sex, fingering, dirty talk, gets quite dirty lots of smut, breeding kink, vague talks of pregnancy kink, she/her pronouns, use of you, reader not really described or named, FLUFFY, Stepdad!Sihtric, found family trope, soulmates trope kinda, love and lust and first sight

Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x reader

Word Count: 6.2k

You knew what you were. A bargaining chip, a prize. Something akin to a crown, symbolizing power. With your own father being a man who bargained in fear rather than respect, you weren’t surprised when your husband was the same.

Sigefrid Thurglison, rather quickly upon marrying you, decided his family’s wealth and power would be found in England. So, you sailed along with him and his brother to find this for yourselves. You, the dutiful wife, who knows your fate would be worse had you denied your father’s arrangement. You, who disappointed your father from birth by just being a daughter, who he could only use as a piece in his games but never actually respect. You, who married a man just like him.

You remained silent throughout. You played your part well, perhaps too well. Your name was used as a way to remind men of the force your husband could bring upon England. Even if they weren’t directly familiar with your father, they remembered the tales their fathers spoke to them, and they bowed at Sigefrid and Erik’s feet.

Until they met a man by the name of Uhtred. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to die or if he was just too stupid to realize that death was a very real possibility. But he was quick to anger your husband and his brother through way of opposition. And, apparently, Uhtred did not heed warnings well. He was unconcerned with the possibility of your father showing up.

“If he wanted England, he would be here,” said a voice from behind Uhtred upon your first meeting. You looked for the source. When you saw the man, you were certain your heart stopped for a moment.

You had seen beauty before. Land, sky, men, women, all of which held a certain captivating air about them. And yet there had been nothing as beautiful as the man who stood before you. You heard Uhtred refer to him as Sihtric, and your eyes made their way over his form. From his brown hair, to his striking yet mismatched eyes, over the angles of his face, and the swell of his muscles that already could be seen straining against the silver bands he wore, there was no part of him you felt was not hand crafted by Freyja herself to be the perfect embodiment of everything she represented.

And Sihtric noticed you. By the gods, did he notice you. You were pretty, prettier than any woman he had ever seen. He couldn’t tell what started swelling faster when he saw you looking back at him and smile: his cock or his heart.

That was the day he swore he would have you.

When he saw you again, it had been over three years. He hadn’t gone a day without thinking of you if he were honest. He was waiting so he could have his chance with you. Those few moments of seeing you was what carried him through the years. You were the face he saw with every victory and every stroke of his cock.

He only wishes it were under better circumstances.

You still resided in the fortress after Sigefrid laid dead on the ground. You knew the only way any of this would end would be if Sigefrid died. And you knew, as you listened to the herd of feet approach the room you were hidden in, that he had.

Sihtric was the first in the room. He knew that Sigefrid would never leave you far behind. It was unfortunate such a man had the honor of being your first husband. Sihtric, though, was perfectly fine being your last.

A feeling that did not waver when he saw you holding a small child close to your body. There was a fear in both of you, but you had the rage of a mother in your eyes. He could see it, and he wanted you more for it.

“He is dead?” you asked Sihtric as others, Uhtred and another you vaguely recognized, came into the room.

Despite having only seen him once, you knew Sihtric could be trusted. You couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was lust clouding your judgement. Perhaps it was a sign. Or maybe you were being stupid and crazy and you would only end up right back where you have been your whole life.

But, his eyes made you feel like that would never be the case again.

“Aye,” he said to you. “How old?” He nodded towards your child, your daughter, who looked at him in fear. He held up his arm, wordlessly keeping Uhtred and the other man from coming any closer.

“Four. She was born here, before we were sent away,” you told him truthfully.

“Her name?” he asked you. He continuously looked between your faces, barely capable of holding himself in place and not taking you in his arms.

“Astra.”

He said nothing else to you for the moment, instead crouching down to be on the same level as your daughter. She clung to you tightly.

“Hello, Astra. Are you hurt?” he said quietly to her. In silence, she shook her head. “Is your mother?”

“Mama is safe, I am safe,” she whispered.

It caused your heart to ache when you heard her repeat the words you told her when everything got quiet. Had you never left England, you would’ve been able to leave Sigefrid. You knew you would have had somewhere to take Astra to keep her safe from him. But when your husband was banished, he swore he would return with your father, and you knew better than to wait around for that. Your only saving grace now was that your father had died before you got back to Norway.

“Would you like to leave here? You and your ma can come with me, if you would like.”

Astra looked up at you, tears in her eyes as they had been all day. You knew that while Sigefrid had never touched either of you, he had given you both more than enough reason to be fearful. And you wanted so badly to make sure she never had to live with this fear again.

Your daughter looked to him and nodded silently. He extended his arms towards her slowly.

“Come then, little one. I will get you out of here,” he said softly. Astra, who had never trusted anyone but you, walked directly into his arms.

The sight of his arms wrapping themselves around her small body caused your heart to ache. It was something you had never thought to wish for, your daughter being in the arms of someone but you. Now you could only pray that this was her new normal.

“I’ve got you little one,” he whispered and stood up, holding her close. “I want you to close your eyes tight and put your forehead against my cheek until I tell you. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded. You watched as she squeezed her eyes shut, her whole face squinting up. Her forehead rested perfectly against his cheek, her brown hair matching his in a shocking way. It almost felt as she was made of him.

“You are as pretty as your ma, brave just like her too,” he told her. You were surprised when you heard her giggle. He looked to you. “Take my arm, Lady. “

You did as he said, stepping closer to him and holding tightly to his arm. He made sure you were not questioned or stopped as he led you out of the fortress. He already had stepped in as your protector and you barely knew him.

When you were outside the walls and far from the carnage, Sihtric finally stopped. You watched as he sat Astra down to stand on her own. He told her it was safe to open her eyes, and she looked relieved when she opened them and saw you.

“Lord,” Sihtric said as he saw Uhtred approach. He instinctually moved to stand between you both.

“Are more men following him?” Uhtred asked you, looking at you over Sihtric’s shoulder. His hand remained on his axe, though he did not unsheathe it.

“He was the last of them,” you told him. And that was the truth. Any men that hadn’t abandoned him before this battle laid dead.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” he asked.

You knew the truth of what he was asking. You were a widow now. Your husband’s family were meant to take care of you now, and your daughter. But Sigefrid was the last of his family, having killed his own brother during his last rampage. Their father had long since been dead and had no living brothers.

“No, Lord,” you told him. “He had no surviving family. And my own father died two winters ago. I was the only child.”

He looked past you to Astra. You could see in his eyes he did not trust you. And you did not trust him. You could not find it in you to trust anyone but Sihtric. But good men, which you ultimately believed Uhtred to be, did not harm little girls.

“You may come with me and my men, then. Until you find other…arrangements,” he said gruffly.

It was three and a half months when you began to worry about your future. You thought of Astra and worried endlessly for her. Her father’s reputation would stain her future forever, you feared. You had no way to provide for her truly. Should your fears be proven true, you wouldn’t even be able to arrange a proper marriage for her when the time would come.

But, you thought perhaps you were worrying too much for Astra. You stood in Uhtred’s hall, watching as Sihtric, Osferth, Finan, and Uhtred spoke, Astra settled peacefully on Sihtric’s lap. She was loved so deeply by Sihtric, and by extension the men he fought beside, one could be forgiven for thinking he was her father. Interestingly enough, she looked more like Sihtric than she ever did Sigefrid.

Uhtred looked to you and nodded, having noticed your presence for the first time. You two had a somewhat uneasy trust in each other now. Well, trust that if either of you betrayed Sihtric, or the others, the other would respond with a blade. And that seemed to make you friends.

Sihtric noticed you, immediately lighting up when he looked at you. He beckoned you to him, to Astra, the both of them holding your whole heart.

You were insane, you knew it. But from the moment you saw him those years ago, you loved him. He was obvious. You would burn down all of England for him if he were to ask.

He had never done anything but protected you and Astra from the very first moment. The day Sigefrid died, it could’ve been so much worse for her. But Sihtric was the one to make sure that no bad ever touched her since he met her.

It was one of many ways that everyone knew you two would find your way to each other. Sihtric would give everything for and to you. As far as he was concerned, the universe began and ended in you and at your feet he would worship. And there had never been a moment in which you doubted his devotion to you or Astra.

“Go say hello to your ma, little one,” Sihtric said softly to Astra.

“Okay, papa,” she giggled as she crawled off his lap while you knelt down.

It was not the first time she had referred to him as such, but it touched your soul every time you heard it. Sihtric looked to you immediately to make sure you did not think to correct her. He was not deluding himself into thinking his presence in Astra’s life could erase all the bad. But he knew, without a doubt, that she was his. From the moment he first held her in his arms, she was his girl and there was no argument he would listen to.

Your darling girl ran into your waiting arms. She was giggling, as she had done since your arrival in Coccham. She was happier than she had ever been. She felt more peaceful.

“Mama, mama, papa is making me an axe,” she told you excitedly.

“Oh is he?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you looked up to Sihtric. He blushed brightly, especially when Uhtred and Finan began to tease him for being in trouble.

“M-my love, I only,” he said, beginning to attempt an explanation.

“She will need an axe if she is going to be on my shield wall one day,” Uhtred told you, grinning from ear to ear. He stood from his seat, drumming a bit on the table, before he jogged over to you and Astra. “And if there is one thing my Little Star will be it is an excellent warrior.”

You watched as Uhtred picked her up and put her on his shoulders. She squealed and giggled until she was settled on her perch.

“If you are teaching her, then I consider myself lucky to have such a warrior in my home,” you said, standing, while grinning ear to ear. “Perhaps she will be knowledgeable enough to teach our next child.” You looked directly at Sihtric as you said ‘our’.

“Our next ten,” he said back to you. He was still blushing a bit, but he enjoyed these moments.

“And you shall birth them all? If it is up to me, you get five,” you said to him.

“You would give me five more children?” he asked excitedly. You could practically see him buzzing.

“Should you decide to take me as your wife,” you said nonchalantly, shrugging to him as you walked over to the table he sat at.

Once you were in his reach, his arm wrapped around you, hand resting on your hip. There was no hesitation from either of you as Sihtric pulled you onto his lap and you wrapped your arms around him.

At first, you had withheld from such public affection. You were only a few months a widow, you felt as though there was some need to respect your loss. But, when your husband had been so cruel to everyone around him and Sihtric was such a soft presence, you lasted perhaps a week before you made your affections clear.

“You honor me, my love,” he said softly. “To think you have already blessed me with one, and are willing to bless me with more. One would be a fool to deny the chance to be your husband.”

You kissed his cheek. It was truly simple with him. There was no darkness. Only love and warmth flowed between you both.

“You will make sure she is careful?” you asked him, bringing the conversation back to the idea of Astra getting an axe.

“Of course, my love,” he confirmed to you. “You know nothing means more to me than the safety of my girls.”

It was less than a month later that you were married. Sihtric made sure it was everything you dreamt of it, everything you were not afforded the first time around. He was watching as you danced with Astra. He loved both of you more than anyone had loved two people.

“Congratulations,” Uhtred said as he sat next to Sihtric. “You will make a fine husband.”

“Thank you, Lord,” he said, smiling. His eyes went between you and Uhtred rapidly, wanting to make sure you never disappeared.

“I see our Little Star got a hold of your hair,” Uhtred smirked as he grabbed a drink. Sihtric’s hand moved to his head, where there was a tiny braid in his hair.

“There is no finer braider in all of England,” he said. “Finan has offered to keep her tonight.”

“Did he tell you Osferth and I were asked to come too?” Uhtred chuckled.

“He did, Lord,” Sihtric laughed, taking a drink of his ale. He sat the cup down, looking to his Lord, his friend. “I want her to be mine.”

“She already is,” Uhtred said. “Nobody will deny that.”

“No, I mean....I want Astra to be just as the children of my blood. I want her to inherit, I want to be responsible for her. Entirely. And should she and my wife allow, I want to give her my name,” Sihtric said.

Uhtred could see a determination on his friend’s face that he had not quite seen before. It shone through in a burning heat. He lived for the family he had with you now. No oath superseded his oath to the two of you, and none ever would.

“Should they wish it, it is done. I will make it known Astra is to be no different than any child of your blood,” he promised his friend. “Now, go dance with your wife. Take her to bed. We will keep our Little Star.”

With a clap on the shoulder, Sihtric stood from the table and began to work his way through crowd to you. You were twirling Astra around, making her laugh and laugh. He could not imagine a more perfect life for himself.

Sihtric chuckled when Astra noticed him and ran into his legs. He knew she was his. She was meant to be his daughter. He could not be bothered by something as trivial as blood. He, of all people, knew family was not limited to blood. Family was created by love, and he loved her enough to create a universe.

Then there was you, his dear wife. He thought you looked stunning in your dress, the deep red color feeling like the physical representation of his love for you. You were more than he could have ever dreamed of. All of his life, he wanted to be what his father wasn’t. A good, honorable man who stayed for his family and loved his wife. A man worthy of love and respect.

And he realized that’s exactly how you saw him.

“Hello, my love,” you said to him when you saw him.

“Are you talking to me?” he asked teasingly, picking Astra up when she stopped dancing.

“Yes, my love. Though, perhaps you would much prefer my husband,” you said, smirking.

“Aye. After all, I will never call you anything but my wife again,” he said and rubbed his nose against Astra’s cheek.

“Hehe papa,” she said as she hugged him tightly. “I love you.”

Sihtric could feel his heart skip a beat. She had called him papa for months at this point, that was no surprise. But, Astra had not told him she loved him. And there was something so precious about hearing it.

“I love you, little one,” he said softly, pressing his lips against her forehead.

You smiled at the two of them. You wanted to hold this moment in your mind for the rest of your life. Capture it, freeze it for all of eternity, something you could hold onto and remember love.

“Now little one, Uncle Finan is excited to start your time together. Your ma and I will see you in the morning,” he told her as he sat her down.

“UNCLE FINAN I AM COMING!” Astra shouted as she ran off through the crowd.

Every person parted to let her through, allowing your eyes to follow her path to Finan. She was loved by most any in town. Her personality was loud and bright enough so that everyone knew her. Of course, it helped that she was always right by your side, and you were always close to Sihtric.

And you knew, at least within the confines of the town walls, she was safe to move about. Most everyone would agree that harming a child is egregious. Everyone agreed that harming your child was the fastest way to ensure a brutal death by the hands of Sihtric, and a quick one by Uhtred and Finan. Even Osferth, sweet Osferth, would pray for his God’s forgiveness as he took the life of anyone who would lay a finger on Astra. She was loved, she was safe. For the first time in her life she did not flinch when she was more than an inch from your skirts.

“Being my wife suits you,” Sihtric told you, drawing your eyes from Finan and Astra to him.

He looked at you with pure adoration. He worshipped you. Made certain that he loved you enough to make the bad parts of your life feel like another lifetime.

“Just as being my husband suits you,” you said to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you tightly to him. He breathed you in, feeling overwhelmed by you. Everything about you was intoxicating to him. From your beauty, the way you smelled, the way your body pressed against his own, there was nothing that could dampen his desire of you.

“Then it seems we are in agreement,” he said.

“That it does,” you said softly, leaning forward slightly. Your lips hovered next to his ear. “And I think I would like to feel my husband.”

You felt him shudder with your words, the unmistakable hardness of his erection beginning to dig into you. It had not been difficult to get him excited these last months. Even after both of you had agreed to wait until you were married, you had enjoyed riling him up before he returned to his own home.

“I have dreamt of this night for years,” he muttered to you. “From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were mine. I dreamt of my cock sinking deep into you for hours on end.”

It was your turn now for a shiver down your spine. There was no part of you that could deny dreaming of the same thing for just as long. In the years trying to exist outside of England, the nights where you went to bed amidst yells and cheers during another fight to the death for Sigefrid’s amusement, you dreamt of his mismatched eyes. Of his sharp beauty. Of a life you now got to share with him.

You weren’t sure who broke away first between the two of you, but it wasn’t long before you were walking down the streets to his, no your, home. The home you would grow old together in, gods be good. And the two of you couldn’t keep from stopping every few feet, pulling the other for a deep, passionate kiss.

When you finally arrived at the house, he picked you up and carried you over the threshold. In fact, he did not put you down until he could place you on the bed. You had barely recognized that you were laying on it before he was hovering over you, repeatedly kissing your neck.

“Such a pretty wife,” he muttered with every kiss. You put your head back to expose more of your sensitive skin. “Have been blessed, haven’t I? Blessed by the gods to be given such a pretty wife.”

You placed a hand on the bag of his head and gripped his hair firmly. Despite the pull on his hair, you only brought him closer into you. You could feel him starting to grind himself against your thigh, desperately looking for some relief.

“Fuck, Sihtric,” you moaned out. But when his name left your lips, he nipped at your neck quickly. It took you by surprise, causing a quiet squeak to escape you.

“Be a good, pretty wife and do not use my name tonight,” he whispered in your ear.

“Such a demanding husband I have,” you teased. “So desperate to fuck me he has to rut against me like an animal.”

He groaned into your neck at your words, his right hand beginning to fumble with the fastenings of your dress. You ignored the shaking of your own hands, your need of Sihtric outweighing your nerves. This was meant to be, after all. And you had faith it would be perfect.

“Use your mouth for better things and perhaps I will let you fuck a child into me tonight,” you told him. This time it was not a groan, but a quiet whimper, that left his lips. His fingers struggled with undressing you, the way it was held to your body being more complicated than he had thought.

He pulled back entirely, sitting up on his knees as he began reaching for the knife he carried. He cut the fabric of your dress away from your body. You stared at him, eyes heavy with lust.

“Nothing but a dress, you can replace it,” he told you. You could only nod at him as he helped remove the material away completely. After a moment, the tattered remains of the dress and his knife fell together to the floor, just as quickly forgotten.

He stared at your naked form. He could not help it, truly. Everything about you was perfect for him. He leaned forward and kissed you once more, before his lips started trailing down your body. Along your jawline, down your neck, over your collarbone. He only took pause when he got to your breasts. Sihtric’s left hand began pawing at one while his lips wrapped around your nipple.

You moaned quietly as he sucked while massaging your soft flesh. Your eyes fluttered shut, whimpering every time he decided to graze your nipple with his teeth. You wanted to beg him to give you more, to pleasure your aching cunt.

He groaned to himself before pulling away from your breasts entirely, muttering a promise he would play with them more. You almost started to laugh, only for it to catch in your throat when his fingers found your slick. He smirked down at you.

“You must really enjoy this, wife,” he whispered teasingly. His fingers ran up and down your folds, deliberate in their light touching of your pearl.

“Of course, I have only dreamt of you as my husband a few dozen times now,” you told him. Your thighs trembled a bit as you resisted the urge to buck your hips into his hand.

He hummed quietly as he allowed his finger to sink into you. While you became a whimpering mess, he just slowly thrust his finger in and out. Never had you known such bliss. His finger felt thicker than you had anticipated.

“What is it, pretty wife? Cannot think through your pleasure?” he asked you, looking directly into your eyes.

Your resolve finally broke. With a moan, you allowed your hips to move to meet his hand. All you could think of was chasing your pleasure with him.

“You say I am demanding, but you are so needy,” he cooed. He pushed another finger into you, curling his fingers slightly with every thrust of them. His touch was perfectly focused on the spongy spot inside you.

“Love, my love, please, fuck, please,” you moaned. You couldn’t finish a single thought as you felt a band tightening behind your navel.

You had only experienced such a feeling with yourself. Pleasure had never been at the forefront of your life. Until now, at least, since Sihtric seemed determined to make you reach that point. He increased the speed of his fingers movements.

“Cum for me,” he practically demanded of you. His voice was quiet, meant only for your ears, but forceful in nature. “And then I’ll give you my cock. Such a good girl, you deserve it. Don’t you, my love?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered. You gripped the furs under you tightly, the edges of your vision going fuzzy.

“Deserve my cock, deserve my love. You have both, entirely, you understand?” he asked you, his thumb barely ghosting against your pearl.

“Yes, fuck, my love, my husband,” you whined pathetically. It seemed to please him, at least enough.

His thumb finally rested against the bundle of nerves, rubbing circles in time with every thrust of his fingers. The band finally snapped as you cried out, back arching off the bed. A jumbled mess of his name, husband, love, and expletives left your tongue.

You were able to watch as Sihtric removed his touch from you entirely. He brought his fingers to his lips before he sucked them clean, earning another whimper from you. And then you got to watch him undress, his shirt and pants being flung away in a matter of moments.

You weren’t entirely sure which of the gods had blessed you, but you thanked everyone of them when Sihtric stood naked before you. His toned chest and stomach was near flawless, save for a few scars earned in battle. The Thor’s hammer pendant rested against his taut chest. Your gaze washed over the grooves of his form, able to count each muscle, until they finally landed on his cock.

He was blessed even then. His heavy cock bobbed with need. When his eyes caught yours, he smirked at your hungry gaze. He was long and thick enough to make you question just how exactly you were meant to take him in entirely.

Sihtric couldn’t hide his smirk when he grabbed you by the hips and pulled your body closer to his. He groaned softly as his cock now rested against you, already collecting your slick.

“I love you,” he said to you, his voice softer than the cocky look etched on his face would have you expect.

You tried to stutter out some response before he started rubbing himself against you. Anytime the head brushed against your pearl, the feeling stole your words and sent shockwaves through your body. There was a pride he felt at already having you responding like this before having even fucked you.

“I love…fuck, fuck me, fuck I love you,” you finally managed to get out.

“Good girl, using your words,” he cooed. He moved his cock to start pressing against your entrance. “Are you going to keep being a good girl, love?”

“Yes,” you said weakly and nodded

He smiled at you. He grabbed your leg gently, hooking it on his arm, as he leaned down to bring his face closer to you. Your knee pressed against your chest while he kissed you. You melted into his kiss, your hands releasing the furs you laid up on to hold his face gently.

Your kiss only ended on account of the way he couldn’t hold back his whines and whimpers when he pushed into you. He couldn’t help the way your name left him when you took half of him without issue.

He pulled himself away to look down at your face. After a moment, he looked between your bodies and groaned when he saw you impaled on his cock.

“Fuck, such a pretty wife I have,” he muttered. “You ready for more, my love?” he asked when he reconnected your gaze.

“Yes,” you told him, nodding eagerly.

He groaned as he moved his hips forward. It was pure bliss for both of you. His cock throbbed with every thrust, your walls clenching tightly around him. Every nerve ending in both of you felt like it was on fire as your connection only grew. Sihtric watched you every second, trying to make sure it was as mind blowing for you as it was for him.

His speed increased desperately. He needed more, you needed more. Your hands roamed his body, your moans filling his ears like a beautiful song. The head of his cock kept moving against the spongy spot inside, making your thighs tremble once again.

You watched him as he thrust into you. His pendant and your breasts moved in time with his thrusts, captivating him. You could see him teetering the line of control and instinct. He wanted this to be sweet for you, to be perfect, everything you deserved. He has heard enough stories of your life to know you deserved more than to once again be used for someone else’s pleasure.

“Such a good husband already,” you told him, gripping his biceps. His gaze softened when you spoke, his hips stuttering a bit. “We have all our lives for you to make me scream your name in pleasure, do we not? “

He nodded wordlessly. His cock never once stilled in you as he watched you. He kept grunting under his breath, every noise ending in what sounded like a whine.

“Then I say tonight, I want you to finish inside of me until there is no doubt that come morning I am carrying your child,” you commanded.

His mouth hung open, his hips slowing a bit as he stared down at you. You could see him searching for any uncertainty on your face. Yet, he could search for his entire life and never find in you any doubt of him.

You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned up and took his pendant of Thor’s hammer in between your teeth before looking directly into his eyes. His thrusts picked up in speed, going harder and deeper than before.

He closed the gap between you, his lips coming next to your ear as he finally released your leg. On one side all you could hear a symphony of skin slapping against skin as he fucked you at an almost bruising intensity. In the other, he began to whimper and whine for you.

“Pretty wife, amazing mother,” he whispered in your ear, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips. He was throbbing inside you and you could feel just how close he was. The way he twitched and pushed against you, his weight pressing into your chest, the band started to tighten again.

“Already a desperate man for you,” he grunted. You were incapable of getting any sound to leave your mouth. All you could do was focus on his word, his sounds, his movements. He was all you knew to be true in this moment.

“Can’t wait to see you pregnant. Probably prettier, round with child and tits swollen with milk. Fuck,” he said to you as his hips started stuttering more frequently.

Your orgasm overcame you finally, causing you to cry out his name. You were barely aware of his whisperings still in your ear.

“That’s a good girl, fuck, yes, my pretty wife,” he practically growled in your ear. Finally, his thrusts stopped, his cock buried inside you as he released ropes of hot cum into you. Sihtric let out a sound with every throb.

You were trembling when he pulled himself from you, breathing heavily. Carefully, he maneuvered the furs out from under your body before carefully covering you both. You moved closer to him and laid your head on his chest. His arm wrapped around you, holding you as though he was terrified of you walking out the door.

You laid there in silence for several moments, basking in the way you felt. With being given from your father to Sigefrid, you had never known much of love or safety. You had never really known kindness. You had feared for so long that the violence and chaos both of them had brought into their lives and halls would haunt you forever.

Yet, laying here in Sihtric’s arms, you almost couldn’t remember how they made you feel. He made you feel so powerful, so loved, so worshipped beyond belief that you would now go days without thinking of the horrors of your past. Even Astra seemed to feel nothing but safety and love.

You turned your face to look at him. He was looking happily down at you, a cheesy, lazy little grin splashed on his face. You were certain nothing could get better than this.

“I love you,” you said softly. “Especially your eyes.”

He rolled them, yet the smile never faded. “Which is your favorite?” he asked.

“Oh no, that is like trying to choose a favorite mountain, or snowflake. Each so unique, so special, one would be an ignorant fool to pick a favorite,” you told him, smiling up at him. “Luckily, I do not have to. I get to enjoy them until I die.”

“Oh? And if I die before you?” he teased, kissing your forehead.

“You are not allowed. I cannot let you walk into Valhalla without me there to greet you, even if that means I will need to pick up an axe again,” you said simply. It was your truth. “I have spent my entire life waiting for the love you give me. You are not allowed to ever make me live without it again, husband.”

Sihtric tried to hide it, but you could see him wiggle just a bit, his smile spread further, when you addressed him as husband. In the moments past, he was too distracted by lust. But now it was sinking in, for both of you, and you felt just as joyful as him.

“Of course, wife. I would not dare leave you to raise our ten children alone,” he said, smirking as you laughed.

“I believe I said five more,” you told him, raising an eyebrow.

“I believe Freyja will bless us with a small army, as much as I plan to bury my cock in you,” he told you, kissing your forehead. “Speaking of.”

Sihtric smirked before kissing you again, pulling you on top of him. You felt your laugh rumble in your chest as you couldn’t help but kiss him back.

You were finally no longer a bargaining chip.

Taglist: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @gemini-mama @alexagirlie

[httyddragonfox]

The Dragon Prince: Hatred & Vengeance vs Justice.

We are always told that Justice is better than Vengeance. If someone does something morally wrong with no defense for their actions, then they need to be brought to their actions.

Viren killed Rayla's parents, at least put them in a fate worse than death, she is justified in her hatred. Viren is also a threat to Xadia, a threat to peace, willing to kill a baby dragon, start a war with Xadia, kills humans just to achieve that war. He's dangerous and needs to be dealt with. That's justice. Do what needs to be done and nothing more. However, when Viren disappears, Rayla can't rest until she knows he's gone. She gets obsessed with revenge and this makes her leave Callum behind, believing she was doing what was best for him. As she admits in the second arc, it was wrong to leave him behind and go searching for Viren. She didn't even find him so all she did was leave Callum for 2 years.

Then there's the characters who lost who they loved in similar situations.

Avizandum, the Dragon King, struck down Sarai as she attempted to save Viren's life. She didn't want to go on the mission to Xadia, she thought it was wrong what they were doing, but she died doing the right thing. Avizandum was protecting the border, he was doing his job, he's not a threat to anyone who doesn't cross it. There's no need for violent justice, sadly. It was cruel, but that's just how things were.

Similarly, Leola was tattled on by Anak Arow, which caused the Star touch elves to deem her worthy of death. Her crime, she gave magic to humans, and thanks to divination, they foresaw that this would lead to the end. Yet, she was a child who just wished to be kind to the people she loved. They were just enacting what they saw as justice, it's cruel and sad, but there is no need for justice as violence.

The best form of justice here, is making sure they don't die in vain, to fulfill their wishes. For Sarai, making sure the people could survive the winter. For Leola, making sure the humans had a chance.

However, justice is doing what is necessary and nothing more.

Both Aaravos, as well as Callum and Harrow, are justified in their hatred. (Heck, I hate the Star touch elves and Leola is not even my daughter).

How they act on their hatred determines who they are as people.

Harrow was willing to leave Avizandum alone, knowing vengeance for Sarai would not fix anything, only creating a bigger mess. Callum seeing Avizandum dead does not bring him joy, despite still hating the dragon. The reason, he's sad for Zym, it's his father and Zym is an innocent. Zym had nothing to do with what happened to his mom, heck Zym is a friend. Who is he to wish the death of a parent on him, despite it already happened, he can't be happy for it knowing what Zym has to live with.

Then there's Aaravos, who has spent centuries enacting his vengeance, trying so hard to destroy the cosmic order. Leola would have been content with humans just knowing primal magic, but he chose to make a bigger mess of things by giving them dark magic. He not only enacts vengeance on Sol Regum, but causes the end of several Xadian rulers all to cause war and have Xadia destroy itself. He killed Khessa for no reason, tried to kill baby Zym for no real reason, and had Katollis destroyed for no real reason (he could have had Claudia sneak in and get it). When Sol Regum eventually does die, Aaravos has to taunt him over the fact he's been manipulated for centuries, and enjoys his suffering. Meanwhile, he doesn't care that a kingdom of innocent people got torched.

Aaravos doesn't seem to care about lives anymore, only seeing people as potential pawns. He seems to enjoy arrogant people meeting their end in painful, humiliating ways, even if those people had nothing to do with his suffering.

Terry is right: What happened to him was awful, but he's been so twisted by hatred and vengeance that it's turned him into a monster with no concern for life, living for the suffering of others.

Callum and Harrow are better for attempting to not let their hatred rule them, Rayla is better for choosing justice over vengeance, but Aaravos is a villain for choosing violence and chaos and war.

[mariabtsos]

Unsinkable ||j.jk|| — Chapter 6

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Description: The 1910s are the peak of passenger ships, it was also the peak of classism, Jungkook is a third class immigrant from Korea, and you are a first class “prisoner” not wanting to go back to a life of strict standards. Once you meet Jungkook, life seems worth living, but when tragedy strikes, will you guys make it out to live the life you planned?

Genre: Titanic AU, poor/artist!JK x rich!f reader, angst, fluff, very slight smut, forbidden love.

Warnings: ANGST, major character death, mention of grave injuries, blood, thoughts of death and drowning, descriptions of mass panic.

Word Count: 1.4k+

Jungkook was stressed, or maybe that was an understatement. He was almost able to get away from Yoongi's grip if it wasn't for the Master-at-Arms being right there. They left him in that room, handcuffed to a pipe whilst the aforementioned went back to the main deck to assist with the evacuation of the ship.

Jungkook didn't think that he would die in a sinking ship, he had done so many other dangerous things in his short life. He reminisced about the time he was ice fishing with Chris and the ice gave out underneath him, the water was so cold, but he was quick to get out. He’d been to those county fair roller coasters and gotten off just before a piece of the track fell apart. He didn’t usually consider himself to be lucky until now, when he realized he had taken all the other times he had escaped being seriously injured or worse for granted.

How long had he been handcuffed?

The room slowly filled more and more with water, slowly tipping over where he had to hold on to a pipe to ensure he wouldn't hurt himself or his wrist. He'd hoped his death would be quick, then again he'd known from a book one of his parisian muses let him read, that if pain is what you wanted, drowning was the way to go. He wished he could've seen you one more time, that he would have kissed your lips one more time.

His laments were interrupted by a door being broken open, and he was shocked to see you there, water almost up to your waist, accompanied by Chris and an ax. “Yn? Chris? What the hell are you doing?” He questioned as both of them pushed through the water to make it to him, “we're not going to let you die, Jungkookie,” Chris said.

Getting to Jungkook had been challenging, you had to escape your mother, Namjoon and Yoongi after they had dragged you to the first class staircase to wait, it took strength and you spitting on Namjoon's face, but you'd be damned to go live a life that would be worse than dying on this boat.

On your way down, you ran into three young men who you found rather quickly to be Jungkook’s friends, and at first, when all three found out what your lover's fate was, they wanted to go with you, Chris however, insisted if anything were to happen Jungkook would be angry if all four of them died.

It was a funny thing to have to think about at such a young age, death. They were all in their early 20s and you were barely 21, you had so much to live and yet right at this moment, it was uncertain whether you'd be alive in the next hour. Ultimately, Chris came with you because Jungkook had been his friend for the better part of 4 years, and he was not going to leave him to drown, at least not on his own.

Chris had walked you through how to use the ax and had you make a couple practice swings, before you moved on to your main target.

“You've got this darling, I know you won't hurt me,” Jungkook assured you, and you were doing your best to hold back your tears, because one wrong cut and you coming down here would be for nothing. But luckily that wasn't the case, the cuffs around his wrist split and now they were like two bracelets, you let go of the ax which made a big splash

He wasted no time bringing you into his arms, hugging you tightly and kissing your head, and then hugging Chris, “we have to go if we want to make it to a lifeboat with Taehyung and Jimin,” the latter said, and you all made your best effort to run since there was no way of telling when the next burst of water would make it through.

It was unfortunately too soon.

The water came quick as you ran to the last working elevator, it sounded like a stampede of horses was running through the ship, the sound ever close as you finally had started to notice a difference in the water's height, you were starting to see your feet again, although a little too late.

You heard a loud groan, seeing that Chris had fallen behind, “Chan!” You heard Jungkook call, was that also Chris' name? “There was a hole in the wood, my foot’s stuck,” he struggled as attempted to get his foot out, Jungkook immediately jumped to help him, trying his best to be gentle, “damn you and your big feet,” his doe eyes were filling with tears they could now see the water coming quickly toward them, if they didn't get him out of there quick enough they would be dragged back, and would likely die.

“I don't care if my foot is hurt, just pull me out”

You joined in their attempts at liberating the poor man, and the screams that followed made you nearly burst into tears, it was just in time, as his foot popped out — you didn't dare look at it, afraid of it's condition — the water gushed down the hallway, loud impact of the waves against the walls of the ship, running for the small box that would bring you up to the main deck.

But it wasn't there, the gate was closed, and the lift was gone from where you had left it. You could feel your eyes swell with tears. Was this how you were going to go? Drowned in a ship never to be seen again? Because your body would most likely stay with the ship, would it even survive the depths of the ocean?

“There's a staircase this way!” Chris yelled, you saw the two men starting to run and so did you. As the water level kept getting lower thanks to what you could only assume was the way the ship was sinking.

It took some time, but you made it up the main deck just in time to see the chaos and panic. Men rushed to help lower the lifeboats, as well as women of all classes yelling for their husbands as they were placed in boats, or yelling for their children as they frantically looked through the main deck.

“LUCY?! Please has anyone seen my Lucy?! I can't leave the ship without her!” A mother screamed next to you, running through the crowd of people, looking through every nook and cranny. You watched as she went inside the boat once more, and you hoped she would be able to get out if she went any lower than any of the higher decks.

Your attention was ripped away when you heard the sound of gunshots ring.

“NO!” You heard a loud scream, seeing a circle forming in front of one of the lifeboats. The voice sounded familiar, and you hadn't realized you were moving until you felt Jungkook's hand sliding into yours, “you move quickly through a crowd,” the small joke making you chuckle. It was refreshing and appreciated. You pushed through, and once you finally made it to the front of the circle you dropped Jungkook's hand.

Yoongi was crying over Namjoon's body.

“I told you to stay back, women and children only!” The officer standing with his gun drawn spat back. “So you shoot him?! You incompetent fuck?!” Yoongi's eyes seemed to have a never ending stream of tears, his voice uneven. You knew that Namjoon and him were close since childhood, Yoongi had been working with Namjoon for a long time, his dad had worked with the aforementioned's family before Yoongi started to years later.

You slowly walked up to Yoongi, placing your hand on his shoulder “WHAT?!” He turned to you, his features softening, something he'd never done toward you, you looked down to see your ex-betrothed, his white shirt had a large scarlet stain in his stomach. “Ynie?” You heard him call, “Yoongi hyung?”

“We're here Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi sobbed, even in his weak state, Namjoon's dimpled smile made an appearance, “I'm sorry for being for being an ass to you Ynie,” you couldn't help the few tears that spilled from your eyes, the dragon eyed man stared up at your lover, giving him a stern nod which the younger man reciprocated, you sobbed watching the wordless exchange. “Take good care of them hyung,” he sighed.

You watched as Namjoon's grip on Yoongi's shoulder was slowly losing strength, until the only thing keeping their hands together was Yoongi desperately holding onto his best friend. You watched as he continued to sob for a few more minutes, the crow's dispersing in their own panic trying to reach a lifeboat, until he only sniffled.

“Let's get out of here,” Yoongi said sternly, “where are the rest of your friends Jeon?”

[darlingdarkly]

Fates Worse Than Death part 3

Deimos x f!reader noncon Enemies to Lovers

5.6k words

CW: noncon!elements, dubcon!elements, electrocution (non sexual), bondage, unprotected climactic pnv intercourse, threats of forced impreg, breeding kink

Part: 1, 2, 4

It was early when he left, Reveille hadn’t even blared its siren song to give rise to the base and its inhabitants. It was almost dreamlike in the way he came to you, soft and sweet in pulling you from the depths of your slumber. He left your mask on and you were grateful for it, without your sight it was easier to let the roles slip, just take it as it presented itself without the clouded lenses of your predicament.

So when he leaned down and lightly shook you awake you came up gently as the cot dipped to accommodate his weight. “I’m going, sugarcane.” You groaned and when you spoke, voice sleep strained and groggy and he saw your arms strain against the straps as you attempted to lift up and touch him made him wish to call the whole thing off, who gave a shit about meetings when he could just undo your straps, pick you up bridal style and carry you over to his bed where you belonged, lay in bed all day and make love to you over and over and over.

But it’s easy to forget the kitten has claws when she’s like this, it’d do not to forget she’s not as docile as she presents. “What time is it?” His fingers trail up your arm, the gloved pads of his digits swirling nonsensical patterns on your warm skin. “Early. 4:30. You can go back to sleep, I’ve arranged for someone to come in and help you out of your restraints and feed you, you’ll be staying up here until I return. I’ve got a surprise lined up for you later today.” He stops speaking and you feel one glove come up and smooth your hair, his thumb sweeping back and forth over the errant strands on your forehead.

“Be good for me.” You almost wish you could be but you won’t and deep down you both know you have to play the game so he says it and he means it but it doesn’t mean he believes you when you say you will. He spends a few more fleeting moments lingering in this early morning light, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your temple, one that cut through all the bullshit and made its way to the core. It was a message, a last plea, stay, be good, I know this is fucked but it could work couldn’t it? We both feel this, behind the roles and twisted implications, who gives a fuck how it started?

Then he was gone and you drifted off until Reveille woke up an entirely different woman than Deimos had kissed on his way out the door. A few minutes later someone entered the room and pulled the mask from your eyes. It was short and stocky and he looked as pissed off to see you as you were to see him. Obviously though, Deimos had had some sort of chat with him about his manners because he was on his best behavior as he carefully undid your straps.

It wasn’t time yet so you stayed compliant, sitting up on the cot and waiting for him to back away before standing and heading for the bathroom. He didn’t watch you like Deimos had as you showered but he was right outside of the door and frisked you a bit too thoroughly as you stepped out, dressed and ready for the day.

He left the room and you alone in it as he went to get breakfast for you. It was the first time you really got a good look at your surroundings. The room was double big, like it was really two rooms where the wall separating them had been knocked down. The walls were papered in deep red scroll and his bed took up the center of his section of the room. There wasn’t much else to speak of, a few dressers and a wardrobe against the far wall, a desk with a few pens in a cup on its mahogany surface. Your section of the room was even barer, just your cot and four empty walls, though they were also papered in dark red scroll.

It wasn’t long before short and stocky came back, tray in hand as he plopped it unceremoniously on the desk in Deimos’s section of the room, it didn’t topple over but the contents spilled out of their sections into each other and the juice you were meant to drink knocked over and spilled out over the wood. He looked you dead in the eye before turning and leaving.

You were glad for the way things turned out later on. You stood from the cot and made your way over to the desk, while the juice was off the table (more like all over the table) the food was still edible and after retrieving a towel from the cabinet in the bathroom and cleaning up his mess, you ate everything eagerly, you’d need every bit of it to escape. When you’d finished you knocked on the door and he came back to retrieve the tray.

“Good, you cleaned up your mess. Good to know he’s teaching you something useful other than how to take his cock.” You don’t even bother with a response, let it sink into your skin, you’ll get your licks back and they’ll be far more rewarding as actions rather than words. He isn’t quite done yet though.

“What? Nothing to say? You’re no spitfire. Whatever he sees in you is bullshit and he’ll know it soon and when he does I hope he lets me pull the trigger on you. I wanna watch the life drain from your eyes as I’m the last thing you see.” That seems to satisfy him and he leaves believing he’s the one on the high note. That's fine, let him. The morning passes slow and you try to retrace the plan in your brain, check it once, twice, three times for flaws. There is no alternative, no plan B. If this didn’t pan out your way, if anything went wrong, your goose was cooked.

It wasn’t until after lunch that you decided Deimos was probably far enough away that if something went awry it would at least take him some time to get back, enough time for you to get far enough away to have a chance at disappearing. You could link back up with rainbow after you’d meshed into the closest population dense city. Short and stocky had just left with your empty lunch tray as you bent down and pulled your paper clip free from its shoe home and unbent it to turn it into a shabby but functional lock pick. The outer doors of the facility were far too heavy duty for your little makeshift tool, but the door out of this room was all you needed unlocked for your escape.

You got up off the bed and walked to the solid wooden door, pressing your ear up against it to hear any activity on the other side. It was silent and still as far as you could tell so you bent down and set to work, carefully raking the paper clip around inside the lock mechanism to try and jostle the tumblers. It was a slow, tedious process but after a few minutes work the lock clicked and the knob turned freely.

You stepped cautiously out of the doorway and out into the hall. Short and stocky stood at the top of the stairs with his back to you, this was your chance. You strode forward with careful purpose, trying to stay as quiet as possible while moving as quickly as you could, if he saw you now it’d be a fight and one you’d probably lose.

He started to turn and you took the last few strides in a run, the element of surprise nearly lost as you pushed him with all your body weight and watched almost in slow-mo as he careened over the edge of the stairs, arms pinwheeling to prevent his fall but it was no use.

His side made first contact with the concrete stairs, producing four audible, gut wrenching cracks that seared white hot pain up his spine and knocked the air from his lungs. He continued to tumble, rolling over once, twice, and landing awkwardly on his right forearm at an acute angle. It’s there he heard another pop as his arm took the brunt of the fall and he landed in an agitated heap, screaming mad and hell bent on killing you when he got to his feet.

But before he could you were on him, the last thing he saw was your fist coming down on his temple, ironically knocking him out the very same way he’d threatened on the night of your capture and then all went dark.

You had to act quickly now, it was possible someone could have heard the commotion or would come up here for anything at any time so you stepped over him and raced down the last three flights of stairs and carefully made your way across the sky deck, head once again bent between your knees.

Entering the main building you had to act quickly, it was imperative that you avoided being seen until you changed, you were the only person on base wearing a skin tight jumpsuit and everyone would know you’d escaped upon first glance. Ducking into a particular side room you’d eyed the last time you’d made this trek with Deimos, you found what you were looking for.

It was an old supply room, dusty and mostly unused it was full of stores of toilet paper and cleaning supplies, a stack of desks, a few empty filing cabinets and what you came here for. In a box on the floor, a sight you gazed upon by chance after a soldier stepped in for a rack of toilet paper as you were passing by and stored away for this particular moment, was a pile of old uniforms. They were musty and it took you three separate sets to find ones that weren’t either covered in mildew or faded and the ones you finally settled on were about two sizes too big but they’d do.

You slipped them on over your clothes, you couldn’t risk another soldier dipping in for toilet paper and wanted to leave as soon as possible to avoid either short and stocky waking up or someone coming across him. This was a mistake you came to regret later, but hindsight is always 20/20.

You strode out of the supply closet in no rush, a patrol cap pulled down low over your eyes as you casually but briskly made your way towards the doors of the facility. You depressed the bar on one of the heavy metal doors and pushed out into the warm air. You surveyed the outer compound with scrutiny and found everyone tucked into tight groups, no lone wolves, which meant if you were going to get out of here without being singled out immediately you had to blend.

You spotted a set of soldiers by the gate, rifles in hand and more than likely headed for the gun range you’d heard but never had seen. You walked out with purpose and snagged two empty ammo cans from a stack by the wall and stuck yourself in the group, making sure to linger around the back so as not to draw too much unwanted attention.

The platoon leader called attention and you snapped to, the action just as much instinct as it was disguise. When he calls forward march you begin to move, keeping pace with the group and keeping your head down. You pass under the gate with the weight of nervous anticipation balancing precariously on your shoulders, expecting at any moment the call to halt from above but it never came and you marched out past it and onto a trail through the woods without hiccup.

When the gates were too far back and concealed by foliage to see you dropped off from the group, simply sliding behind a tree until their footfalls became too distant to hear. You left the ammo cans behind and sprinted out into the trees. From what you could remember there was nothing for miles around, just endless forest but you knew there was a little town about twenty miles south and if you could keep up a relative jog you could make it there just after nightfall.

You took a few glances back to make sure you weren’t being trailed but all you could see was empty forest. Your heart pounded with excitement but you knew better than to let it get the better of you, there was still much danger ahead and endless-

Your muscles locked up violently, legs stopping mid step and freezing as white hot pain zapped down your neck, coursing through your spine and consuming you from within. You called out involuntarily, a guttural pained scream that started and seemed to never end until all your breath was expelled and it died out in a hoarse croak. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stand, couldn’t move and you heard the wail of a siren sound back in the direction of the base.

You stretched an arm out in the direction of safety, willing your body to crawl towards it with the last of your might, but it stayed put in stubborn defiance. The sight of the pines swaying in the wind, their dark green needles seeming to reach out for you was the last thing you saw before darkness stole over you.

When you wake it’s like waking in a dream, a dream you've dreamt before, fundamentally the same but different slightly. The pain is back, though then it was head driven, a throb radiating almost solely from your cranium but this is different. This feels like static but everywhere. Your nerves are shot to shit, jittery and fried, your fingers and toes tingle and there’s a metallic taste in your mouth.

You try to take in your surroundings when the feeling finally subsides a bit, fading out from forefront surround sound until it’s just background noise at best, though it still roars in and out of focus. It’s the same room you’d woken up in the night you were captured, only this time instead of tied kneeling to a padded platform you’re tied to a table, face up and completely naked, arms hoisted up past your head and secured to the northern legs of the table. Your body is stretched out across the top, eyes up skyward looking at the dingy ceiling. Your legs are spread, each tied to a seperate southern table leg to keep them that way, your ass is pulled to the edge of the table and as you crane your head south you can see him watching you from between your spread legs.

It was you who broke the silence first. “We can’t keep meeting like this.” He comes up and stands between your legs and he makes it obvious by the crane of his head that his eyes are trailing up every inch of your body, taking in the sights and landmarks along the path to your eyes before he even speaks.

“Cute. You think now's the time for jokes, eh?” You try to not think about what comes next. You’re naked, which means you’re probably not going to die just yet but it doesn’t mean he won't cut you down at any time past this point, maybe he was just waiting for you to be awake. Your only solace is that short and stocky won’t get to pull the trigger on you, you made sure of that.

“Just couldn’t be good for me, could you?” You flinch as his hand glides up your thighs to palm your hip, the padding gripping the flesh rather roughly. “What did you expect?” And he can’t help but feel pride under all the disappointment because you’re still cocky and fierce as all hell even tied to a table and completely at his mercy, and there’s something in that that makes his combat pants just a bit too snug for his liking.

“Not for you to put Vasquez in the infirmary with four cracked ribs and a fractured ulna.” You scoffed. “If I disappointed you then I’m soooo sorry but one thing I’m not sorry for is anything that happened to that fucking asshole, he got what he deserved and you’re lucky he’s in the hospital and not the morgue.”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me. You’re already in deep fucking shit.” And his use of curse words make you flinch, you can only recall a handful of times he’d cursed and never had he done it in anger but it doesn’t change anything. If he was pissed off then good, so were you.

“The shock collar was a low blow. Kinda barbaric don’t you think?”

“Worked though, didn’t it? I knew you’d run eventually. It’s ok, I’m not mad. It’s only in your nature.” The way he says it piques something in the back of your mind but he glosses right over it, almost like he’s speaking to himself.

“It did cut my meeting short but that really could have been an email anyway. But you know terrorist organizations, always wary of the digital footprint. You’re not off the hook though. Violent outbursts, escape attempts, lies. Ohh you’ve got a lot to atone for.” He gave your hip a painful squeeze but you held your tongue against the groan it threatened to elicit. When he stopped you felt it safe to speak.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He moves away from you and somehow feel less secure with him wandering about the room than if he’d stood put beside you. You vaguely hear the shuffle of papers and your heart stops when you hear him call out your full name.

“Standard checkups, vaccination records, routine physicals, psych evals, two hospitalizations, one for an apparent appendectomy the other outpatient surgery for the removal of shrapnel from your abdomen and left thigh.” You tensed as he read you your medical file and your breath hitched as he called out the last procedure on the list.

“Ahhh and last but not least an IUD procedure completed just two months ago.” You started to get angry, the familiar heat of it almost comforting. Almost.

“You scalped my file?!”

“You’re not the only one with friends in low places, sweetheart.”

You considered it momentarily but was still unsure what it changed or why it mattered. “So what? It’s not a pill, I didn’t lie to you I just withheld some truth, what the fucks it matter?”

“So what is you didnt fucking tell me.” And there was the cursing again and this time it was punctuated with a loud bang as he drove his fist into the metal table your file had been resting on. You’re unsure why he’s angry, could he really believe you had some kind of rapport? It seemed like he did, and maybe that’s when it all snaps into place for you, this isn’t some elaborate psychological tactic, it’s not a ruse. He genuinely is keeping you just to have you for himself and it's then you realize you won’t die, there’s never been any danger of death. He’s not keeping you out of spite, you can’t annoy him enough to end you. It doesn’t matter how many times you run away he will drag you back to heel like some kind of wild dog because he’s just insane enough to try and tame you.

“So now.. I have to figure out what to do with you.” He walks back towards you and you can feel his eyes on you, making your skin erupt with gooseflesh, he walks up the side of the table and brushes the side of your face with the palm of his hand, lightly cupping it. You stare up into the obsidian lenses of his mask, unsure how to act. You can’t see his eyes but just know somehow past those black panes he’s staring down at you so tenderly and the weight of that fact sits uncomfortably on your chest.

After a moment he speaks again. “Since you’re so desperate for release, you’ll get none. I need you to understand your actions have consequences and I will see to it personally that you learn.”

After a moment you understand he means to fuck you again and shortly after that the innuendo dawns on you as well and you just laugh. “What the fuck makes you think I’ll do anything you say?”

“You want incentive? How about if you’re good and you take your punishment like a good girl, I’ll see to it that you get some training, opportunities to stretch your legs a bit? Obviously you’re restless, pent up animalistic tendencies, I can understand that. If you’re good, I’ll make it happen.”

The fucking audacity of him to think you’ll accept treats for parlor tricks. Like some kind of dog you’ll just roll over for belly pats. “Screw you! You bastard! Let me fucking go!”

And then his hand goes from stroking your cheek to gripping it, the thumb digging into the soft flesh of your cheek while the rest of his fingers line your jaw, pursing your lips together and preventing any more lip.

“Not enough for ya? You wanna act like a brat? Fine. How about this? Either you do as I say or I’ll take you down to the infirmary. The IUD procedure is simple enough and so is the removal.”

Your eyes widen and even through the grip he’s got on your maw you threaten him, eyes burning up at him like hot coals. He can feel the heat. “You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Ohh, I think you’d be surprised at the things I’d dare. If I feel you so much as twitch around my cock I’ll have them take it out and then we’ll see about starting our own little family together, huh? I’ve always wanted to be a dad but have just never found the time to get around to it, better late than never though, right? I mean, surely you’re confident enough in your fertility to justify the need for protection, I’m sure you’ll make a fine mother. Whaddaya say, sugarcane? How’s your maternal instincts?”

You struggle in the bonds and slip out of his grip, pulling viciously at the ropes but they just cut harder into your skin, the harsh woven fibers biting voraciously into your flesh. “No! Don’t you fucking dare!”

He regains purchase, this time around your throat and he can feel your pulse beating wildly, even through his glove. “Then do as I say.”

You stop struggling, for one because the ropes feel like they’re starting to draw blood and two because he’s let you go in favor of drawing down towards the southern end of the table. Fingers tracing lightly down your side and then back up the other until his fingers skim along the soft length of your inner thighs and you’re left hanging in anticipation as he spreads your thighs further apart to slot himself between them as they travel higher and higher.

The pads of his fingers find your clit and press ever so slightly over the bundle of nerves, drawing lazy circles over it and you can’t help the tensing of your muscles, the way your eyes squeeze shut as you fight the sensation. He plays with it, unrelenting until your arousal starts to well up around the edges of your slit, his fingers drawing down to gather it and spread it generously around.

You inhale sharply as your nipples pebble, hard and aching to be touched. He notices and brings the hand not driving you slowly into madness up to pinch one and roll it between his index and thumb. Your back arches and his fingers leave your breast to encircle your neck, squeezing the sides lightly to capture your attention.

When your eyes fall on him he speaks, and you can hear the apparent arousal in the gravel of his voice, hear the way his eagerness bleeds through, pining to have you again. “Show me you can practice restraint. Show me your self discipline. Don't disappoint me, soldier.”

His fingers push into you slightly for the first time and the edges of your vision blur as your mouth falls open at the dubiously welcomed intrusion. You didn’t need to see his eyes to know they were locked on yours watching your reactions with careful scrutiny. “Be good for me.”

He pulls out just as fast as he’d pushed in and then he’s gone for a moment, you hear him easing out of his tac pants just enough to pull his cock free and you close your eyes, willing your mind to relax and resist. But when he nudges up to you with the head of his cock, flicking it through the part of your sex and coating it in your slick heat you wonder just how much resolve you have in you.

He leans down over you as he pushes into you in one fluid thrust and you moan with him, unable to stifle it, the sweet ache intoxicating. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t give you time to adjust or catch your breath, just uses you with little to no care for how you fare it. His thrusts even out into a steady rhythm as his hands find purchase on the table you’re tied to and something about feeling him thrust up into you without any other contact, the push and pull of his cock without the feel of his hands on you has your eyes rolling back in your head until you have to squeeze them shut to try and regain the reins of your sanity.

You try and weather the storm, really try to focus on anything other than the devastating drive of his hips but it’s almost impossible. And then you feel his thumb over your clit again and your eyes fly open as the sensation makes you clench around him involuntarily, your arms pull at the ropes, desperate to push his hands away because if he keeps it up you’re not gonna make it.

And then he starts to speak. “You did this to us. Could’ve come back and taken my time with you, could’ve been good and I’d have spent all night just like this, fucked you good and raw til you screamed my name but you had to try. Had to test my patience.”

You try and block out the words, shake your head back and forth to try and not hear him but you can’t and it just adds fuel to the flame and he notices but doesn’t relent. He can tell by the shake of your thighs and the way you’re digging your nails into the palms of your own hands that you’re struggling to cope. He picks up speed a bit and your mouth drops open, prompting a sweet low moan to escape and he wishes he’d blindfolded you before he started because all he wants to do is drink up every single sound before it has a chance to leave your throat, swallow them down to keep them all to himself.

You’re gripping him so sweetly, the clutch of your pussy unlike anything he’d felt in a long, long time and he’d be damned if he’d give you up now. There’s not a thing on this planet that could separate the two of you, not even you. He’d love to see you try, really truly try to keep him from you. He’d never stop, never stop clawing his way back into your life no matter how hard you ran. He’d always find you, in this life and the next.

He can feel it too, the effect he’s having on you. He can feel it in the way your pussy clenches around him, can hear it in your back talk and banter, he knows you’re doomed, even if you don’t and he’s gonna enjoy every second of your downfall, every little slip of your grasp of sanity and reality until the only thing left is him.

His thrusts get particularly heavy, hips punctuating his point as he growls down from above you. “You will be mine.” You’ve lost, you know it. You try and fight it but he’s hitting it so good, cock dragging over that spot that makes your toes curl, there’s no escape and no relief and he knows just what he’s doing. Can feel your ruination coming to fruition and you’re so fucked.

You want to beg, beg him for forgviness, beg him for mercy but you can’t, it’ll just fall on deaf ears and something about it is just too compromising for your pride. Why should you let him know he’s getting to you? Why should you have to kneel at his feet? You’re supposed to be a warrior, a force to be reckoned with, an oddity among women and men for that matter but you’re so fucking close and he knows it and it’s killing you.

“Is it hard, sugarcane? Bet you’re so fucking close. Bet you wanna come for me don’t you?” And he leans in close, pelvis grinding down against you as he keeps up your ruination. His tall frame dwarfs yours and you sigh in relief as his hand finally ceases its assault on your clit to come up and seat itself against the back of your neck, pulling your head up and drawing your forehead against his as his other hand abandons the table for a grip on your hip, pulling you down against him as he thrusts up into you, making the sensation just that much more unbearable, making you cry out just that much louder. He dips down to whisper close against your lips, like he’s about to impart some great secret and he doesn’t want to risk allowing the rest of the room to hear it, empty or not, the shell of his mask so, so close.

“Do it. Let me make you mine in the most ultimate of ways. I’ll take such good care of you and the baby, I swear. Come for me and we’ll start all over.”

You’re quite nearly delirious, holding onto the last of your resolve with bloody fingers. It takes everything in you not to come around his cock, the way it fills you completely, hot and hard is going to be the death of you, or rather the birth of a new you but you can’t. You can’t bare this monsters offspring, he’s a goddamn terrorist for fucks sake and so you hold off until you feel you’re ripping apart at the seams.

You want to succeed but it’s slipping and you’d almost given in to the defeat when he finally comes, you feel it, thick and heavy in you and by god’s mercy he stills and you sob with relief. Chest heaving as your pussy spasms in protest around him. Sweat and tears streak your face as you let out shaky breaths to try and regain your composure. He pulls out and rubs his hands up your body, starting at your hips and gliding up your sides until he’s working at the knot holding your hands above your head.

You feel the ropes loosen but are too overwhelmed to do more than shift them down a bit to alleviate the ache in your shoulders. He says nothing as he comes around the side of the table and scoops you up off of it, pulling you into his chest and cradling you close. You can’t fight him, don’t have the strength so you just rest your head against him and let him carry you all the way out the door.

You shift to get comfortable in his arms as he makes two lefts, and then a right. Closing your eyes and breathing deeply as he climbs two flights of stairs and crosses the sky deck. Burying your head in his chest while he mounts the last four flights before you feel him gently deposit you onto a surface far too comfortable to be the cot.

Only then do you look up at your surroundings. “Bet you didn’t even stay long enough to see my surprise, did you?” His surprise is a queen sized bed, since you’ve been gone it’s been brought in, assembled and made. While it’s nothing fancy, having been carefully checked over with a fine toothed comb for anything that could aid you in another escape attempt, it was very lavish for someone being held prisoner, though you know he doesn’t exactly see you as that even if you still do.

There’s an awkward moment where neither of you knows quite what to say, for some bizarre reason you can’t explain there’s an apology waiting on the tip of your tongue. You won’t say it but it doesn’t mean it’s not there. He reaches up past your head to the metal headboard and pulls down a new set of restraints, they’re long and give you a bit of range as to how much you can move but they’re still restraints.

After you put on another white tee from the seemingly endless supply he has for you, he takes your hands and silently puts on the leather cuffs, securing them. His touch lingers on your wrists even after he’s finished and you feel like he’s about to say something but he doesn’t, just pulls your mask from its place and pulls it down over your eyes. You lie back and get comfortable as he moves away from the bed and undresses.

You listen to the familiar sounds of him sliding into bed and then the room stills and you drift off, until Reveille wakes you in the morn.

[naeverse]

A Fate Worse Than Death - Part 2

🕷️staring: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader

🟥 preview: 

His eyes snapped open as he heard someone entering his office in a quiet, almost silent manner. Their footfalls, delicate, almost imperceptible on the black flooring of his office. Due to his enhanced senses, he was able to hear the person way before he even saw them. 

He turned around, his pupils glowing blazing crimson, his fangs barred, and his claws extended from his fingertips. 

“Who the hell are you, and how the fuck did you get in here!?” 

🕷️Summary: 

Miguel O’Hara’s past comes back to haunt him when a mysterious stranger strolls into his office, carrying with them a profound misfortune that has the potential to ruin everything..

🟦tw/cw. Angst, unprotected sex, fingering, body worship, dirty talk, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Miguel, mutual orgasm, etc… 

🕷️pet names: (hers) Mi amor (My love), Bebè (Baby), Cariño (Darling)

🟥rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🟦Word count: 2.7k

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

'S-she's not supposed to be here!'

He thought once more when anger filled his entire being, his eyebrows knitting together. 

'She's not supposed to be here.' 

A scowl formed on his lips. "What the hell are you doing here!? You know how dangerous it is to be out of your dimension." He spat, his crimson eyes trained on your shakened form. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and…

Hurt. 

This wasn't what you had anticipated when you defied all the rules and laws of the multiverse to visit Miguel, your lover and soulmate outside of your own dimension.

Your eyes began to tear up, stepping closer to him. "I-I came to see you Miggy…" Your voice brittle, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to pour down your face at any given moment. 

Miguel looked away from you. He hated when you cried, and he could sense the overwhelming sadness that was radiating from your body at his words. 

He sighed heavily. "You know you shouldn't be here, Y/N... You're not only putting yourself at risk but jeopardizing the entire multiverse," he practically muttered, devoid of any discernible emotion.

Your lips trembled, stepping even closer to him. "D-Do you not wish to see me?" You asked on the verge of tears. 

Miguel's head snapped in your direction. "How could you say such things!?" he spat, his face twisted in a tumultuous blend of anger, frustration, and sorrow.

“T-Then why are you trying to push me away?” You stammered, reaching out to take his gloved hand in yours. He pulled away from you, turning his back and running a frustrated hand through his disheveled, dark hair. Your heart tugged at how he was rejecting every sign of affection you gave to him.

This wasn’t your Miggy…

Your Miguel…

Something has changed…

"W-What's bothering you, Miggy?" you asked, feeling like it was the millionth time. He groaned, hands on his hips, eyes cast downward at the floor, and his back turned to you. "Nothing's wrong," he replied. You stepped closer, positioning yourself in front of him, your eyes desperately trying to detect what was troubling him and why he might be concealing it.

"L-Look at me," you implored, your lips trembling. Miguel kept his gaze fixed on the floor, unable to meet your eyes.

This unexpected visit from you had left him disoriented and troubled...

Seven years ago, back in his former universe, Earth-2099, he had been joyful and content with you. The two of you had been Nueva York's superheroes, which was how you had first crossed paths. You had started as crime-fighting partners before your relationship deepened into something more intimate.

Miguel and you were the puzzle pieces of each other’s life.

You completed him, and he completed you…

So how did your relationship end up like this? 

So distant and divided?

Miguel's insatiable thirst for knowledge had driven him to explore the multiverse, revealing that there weren't just individuals like you and himself—there were others.

You and he were not alone…

The deeper he delved into his research, the closer he came to unraveling the Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Multiverse, commonly referred to as the Spiderverse. It didn't take long before he discovered the canonical events and the destinies of each and every Spider-Man, some good and some bad...

Very bad...

He had seen something that had scared the living shit out of him, something he was conflicted about whether he should have seen or not, as it kept him awake at night. His days were now dominated by the terrifying fate that seemed to loom in his future.

His obsession with this troubling vision had started to transform him. Miguel was becoming more and more distant from you in your relationship.

He had started isolating himself in the office of your shared home, staying locked inside until the early hours of dawn and well into the night. The only time he emerged was when Nueva York needed Spider-Man's assistance.

As Spider-Woman, you naturally accompanied him, but he still seemed…different.

You refrained from prying into his troubles, and he never divulged the secrets of the Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Multiverse and the horrors it concealed.

Then, seemingly as a solution to his inner turmoil, he conceived the idea of forming a team of heroes, one that would become known as the protectors of the Multiverse. A group comprised of numerous Spider-Heroes personally selected by him from various universes.

You, naturally, wished to accompany him, but he adamantly refused. Nueva York still required a hero, and as Spider-Woman, you were the perfect fit for the role. 

With a kiss and a heartfelt "I love you," he departed. He stepped into his orange and red portal, laden with bags filled with his gidgets and gadgets, and accompanied by his trusted A.I. Then, in the blink of an eye, he disappeared from Earth-2099, leaving you behind.

You waited as long as you could, your patience unwavering, hoping for any sign of his safety or existence.

It was the least he could have done if he still loved you…

Right?

Years passed, and not a word came from him. Your patience wore thin. 

You yearned for your Miggy, 

your Miguel O'Hara, 

your Spider-Man.

Driven by desperation, you ventured into Miguel's sacred office, where you stumbled upon his research regarding the Multiverse and, most importantly, the dimension where he had established the headquarters for his Spider Society: Earth-928...

'Earth-928?!

Why would he leave you? Why not come back?!'

That thought haunted you, and made you hurt beyond belief. 

You needed answers...

In your search through Miguel's office, you stumbled upon his blueprints for crafting his infamous Multiverse watch. Drawing upon your technological and tinkering skills, it took you two years of painstaking effort to perfect the watch, until you felt ready to use it.

You vividly recalled the mix of excitement and nervousness that consumed you as you prepared to reunite with Miguel. You donned the identical suit he had lovingly made just for you before stepping into the portal...

But now, after seven long years, your excitement had dwindled to ashes. As you stood before each other once more, it felt like an eternity had passed, yet neither of you were prepared for the overwhelming emotions and the unanticipated tension in the air….

You observed Miguel's crimson eyes still fixed on the black flooring of his office. Your lips quivered with emotion. "W-Why can't you look at me, Miggy?" You extended your hand toward him once more, but he brushed you off again. "Stop...please," his voice wavered with conflict and desperation.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you ceased your advances. You wrapped your arms around yourself, diverting your gaze to the ground whilst you wept. 

Your sobs were tearing Miguel apart, but there was a reason he had left, and your reappearance only resurrected a horrific memory he desperately wished to bury.

"Y/N," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Miguel glanced up at you, taking a step closer. "I know you came here to see me... but the fate of the multiverse—"

"That's all you ever talk about. T-That damn multiverse!" you exclaimed, tears streaming down your face. You moved closer to him, reaching out for his hands. He initially pulled away, but you didn't relent until your hands firmly grasped his larger gloved ones.

"What about me, Miguel?" you uttered in a brittle tone, gazing up at him with tearful eyes. "I-I've missed you so much. I've endured seven whole years alone, not hearing a single word from you." Your hands trembled as you clung to his large palms. "I-I felt so lonely without you by my side, Miguel," you confessed, your thumb gently caressing his knuckles.

The emotional wall he had erected around his heart was slowly starting to crack. 

If only you knew how much he had missed you when he left Earth-2099.

Miguel sighed and looked away from you, which only shattered your heart further. "I-It's been seven years, Miguel, a-and you can't even look at me," you whimpered, lowering your gaze. "B-before you left me...D-Did I do something wrong?"

Miguel instantly turned to you, gently cupping your cheek in his hand, and tilting your face up to meet his crimson eyes. "Don't ever think for a second that you've done anything wrong, Y/N," he said softly. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, a simple gesture that filled Miguel with pure joy, a sensation he hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity. You melted into his touch, letting out small sniffles.

"B-But why, Miguel? Why are you avoiding me? W-Why do you want me to leave?"

His crimson eyes roamed over your face, taking in every feature.

'Gosh, how much I missed you.’

He moistened his lips, taking a step closer to you. His eyes continued to linger over every aspect of your being, savoring each of your adorable yet alluring characteristics that he had missed so dearly. 

He longed to touch you, to feel the curves of your body beneath his hands, to convey just how much he had yearned for you over these past seven years. 

But he couldn't...

He knew that if he acted on his feelings, he would never let you go, and deep down, he understood that's what both you and he needed.

For you to leave...

With a heavy sigh, his crimson eyes bore into yours, filled with an overwhelming love and devotion that clashed starkly with his stern expression.

"Go home, Y/N."

He spoke softly before stepping away from your side. Instantly, you felt a void, an emptiness without his touch, and you could only watch as he returned to his platform, hopping up to tinker around with his black screens and monitors.

Your heart shattered

You were heartbroken...

Staring down at the floor, tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably, your palm covering your mouth in disbelief. You trembled violently, struggling to accept it.

After all this time, Miguel no longer wanted you. He seemed content with being alone, without you.

With a thick gulp, you looked up at his crouched figure on the platform.

"A-Are we through?" you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion.

Miguel's heart sank at your words, and he turned to face you, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "What?" he questioned.

"Are we through, Miguel!?" you exclaimed, taking a step closer to his elevated position on the platform. Your eyes and cheeks were red and puffy from crying as you looked up at him. "Because I-I can't endure another day, let alone another year, without you," you confessed, your entire being overwhelmed with sadness at the thought.

"S-So please, let me know now...are we done? C-Can I go back to Earth-2099, accepting that I'm not wanted by you and that I can let go of this foolish hope that you'll ever return home to me?" Your voice quivered, tears continuing to flow down your face.

"D-Do you even love me anymore?"

Miguel's eyes narrowed as he descended from his platform, his imposing seven-foot-tall figure looming over you. Gently, he cupped your chin in his thick fingers, turning your face to meet his gaze.

"Do you genuinely believe that?" he inquired in a serious tone tinged with a trace of hurt. Anxious, you bit your lip and slowly nodded.

"Y-Yes...I-I've felt it even before you left, Miguel," you confessed, speaking the haunting thought that had tormented your mind for years, now finally brought to the forefront.

"Y-You were always so distant," you said sadly. "You pushed me away, never spent time with me, and we barely talked." Your voice quivered with emotion. "A-all you did was stay locked up in your office, researching about the Multiverse; a-and I-I tried to be understanding, b-but then it just became worse and worse." You let out a sigh, wiping your glossy eyes with the back of your hand. "T-Then one day, you just decided to leave the entire universe, l-leaving me alone and by myself."

Miguel listened intently to your words, realizing for the first time how deeply his past actions had hurt you. It had never been his intention to cause this much pain; he had believed he was looking out for both you and himself.

"A-and I waited for you," you confessed, your eyes locked onto his crimson ones. "I-I thought maybe you'd send a sign, a message that you were okay, safe, or that you would return, but you never did... 

W-why didn't you...?" 

The desperation in your voice tugged at Miguel's heart. He let out a deep sigh at your heartbreaking question. 

It always came back to this: the painful reason why he had left, why he was distancing himself, and why he hadn't contacted you. 

And because of that reason, he couldn't bring himself to tell you the truth. Instead, he chose to bypass your question altogether.

"I do love you, Y/N, more than you can know," Miguel confessed, his face softening. Your heart fluttered and warmed at his words, but you still sensed that he was holding back, keeping something from you.

You offered him a small smile, moving closer until your chests touched. "Then talk to me," you urged in a sibilant voice, the small space between you filled with tension and longing.

Your eyes trailed his broad, muscular body, taking in the contours and well-defined muscles, every curve and shape vivid beneath the digital strands of his holographic red and blue suit. 

You recalled the countless nights you had fantasized about and dreamed of feeling him beneath your fingertips, of being enveloped in his strong arms once more. 

Now he stood before you, and you'd never felt so anxious or hesitant to touch him...

Miguel yearned to tell you, but he knew he couldn't. He averted his gaze, and your heart tugged at his reluctance to be open and honest with you. 

"Whatever you're so afraid of, Miguel, we can face it together," you whispered, your gloved hand hesitantly cupping his cheek, gently turning his face to look at you once more.

Miguel fought to suppress the burning urge to cry. It was agonizing him, but he couldn't allow himself to break down in front of you, and he wouldn't.

He broke away from your touch, turning away. You sensed his emotional walls briefly crumble, only to reinforce themselves once more, leaving you with a profound sense of sorrow. You stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly, pressing your cheek against his broad and hardened back. 

"P-please, Miguel...talk to me. W-W-What's wrong?" you probed, your voice breaking as you begged, tears streaming down your face. You felt a shaky exhale escape Miguel's lips.

"I-I can't."

Miguel's voice cracked, vulnerability seeping through, causing your heart to ache.

"Can't what?" you implored desperately, hoping he would finally provide an answer.

"I can't tell you. I-It's for your own good," he sniffled, breaking free from your embrace and fixing his gaze on the blank monitors before him.

"I know you intercepted the power. Could you turn it back on...Please?" His voice was devoid of emotion, his back still turned to you. His words left you bewildered, and you couldn't comprehend how he could act as if he hadn't just said something so enigmatic. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wondering what he meant by, it's for your own good.

"N-No, we aren't done here...I-it's not your decision to make whether it's for my own good or not, Miguel!" you shouted bitterly, positioning yourself in front of him. "I'm not leaving here until you tell me the truth! I love you too much to keep enduring you pushing me away time and time again!" Your voice was filled with intense emotion and sorrow, and your persistence only fueled Miguel's rising anger.

He didn't want to talk about it, let alone dwell on it. Frustration and despair welled up within him, manifesting as anger. His eyes reddened, his fangs protruding beneath his lips. "And that's the fucking problem!"

"What is!?" you shouted in response.

"You and me!"

Your entire being crumbled, your heart shattering. "W-what?" Your voice cracked in devastation. Miguel thickly gulped.

He’d said too much…

"Go home, Y/N."

"No, w-what do you mean we're the problem?" you pressed, stepping closer to him, your teary eyes desperately searching his face for the answers you sought.

"I can't tell you any more than this..." he sighed, averting his gaze. "I left you for a reason, Y/N... 

We cannot be together."

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed the second part of 'A Fate Worse Than Death.'

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