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dr-drckken · 27 days ago

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Day 23: The Final Labor - Survivor AU

Tropes Used: 1. Blindside at Tribal Council 2. Remaining loyal to your tribe members even when you've merged 3. That One Guy who's just really good at fishing 4. Challenge Beast 5. The one person who's really good at the puzzles 6. Shelter make-over 7. Giving away your reward to someone but not because you want them to have it, for other, more nefarious purposes 8. Someone flirts with Jeff (for the purposes of this, this is set beFORE he got married <3) 9. One of the finalists kills their chances by revealing something stupid to the jury who would have otherwise voted for them 10. Power couple: a duo from the beginning of the show makes it a long time through the run by working together and staying loyal, even if it's not in their best interests, and become friends even after filming.

also for reference: 📽️ = a confessional and the italics are Jeff's voice over at the beginning of the episode. okay, thank you for coming.

Fiji. This will be their home for the next 39 days. They must learn to adapt, or they’ll be voted out of the tribe. In the end, only one will be able to claim the million dollar prize. Who will have what it takes to outwit, outplay, and outlast all the rest? 39 days, 18 people, 1 survivor!

Previously on Survivor.

After voting out Skip, Su is having a tough time trusting the people of her former tribe.

“I just don’t get how the voting worked out. It doesn’t make sense. Someone had to have flipped.”

At the reward challenge, Eda had best aim.

“Eda wins reward!”

“Say that again, Jeff, but slower and with your second button undone.”

She decided to take Hatter with her to enjoy a breakfast feast where Eda hatched a plan to get rid of Drakken.

“We’ve gotta get that guy out of here. He’s driving me up a wall. We need to make friends with the one with glasses.”

“...Toby?”

“Wow, you know his name? I’ve just been calling him The Little Guy in my head.”

At the immunity challenge Toby guaranteed himself by defeating all the others in our trivia based game.

“And with that answer, Toby has immunity.”

Back at camp Cruz was feeling vulnerable and tried some last minute strategizing.

“Su, if you can get James, then we can get Drakken this week and probably Toby the week after that.”

But at Tribal Council it wasn’t Cruz who needed to be worried. After playing an immunity idol, Drakken, who had gotten four votes, it was someone else who had to pay the price.

“Gabriella. Your tribe has spoken.”

She became the first member of the jury.

8 are left. Who will be voted out tonight?

The beach was particularly quiet that morning. Where people were usually handing out chores or discussing the events of the previous night, there was only the gentle hot breeze and lapping of the waves.

Hatter sat by the fire, stoking it and building it back up from where it had burned down in the night so that he could get started on breakfast. Su came to sit next to him, resting her chin on her hand.

“Morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she sighed.

“Sleep alright?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t,” he said. “He got all of us.”

“But we’re supposed to be part of his alliance,” she said. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“How could he not have said anything?”

Hatter glanced sideways at her, then up to where the camera was zooming in, giving it a confused a look. Or rather, the camera operator the confused look since he was the one currently listening to this conversation. They offered no response, but Hatter couldn’t really believe the young woman was saying that. About the man who had been playing their team like puppets on strings.

“It’s a game,” he said. “Despite what people may say, we’re all playing to win.”

Su frowned, turning her head to look at him. “You’ve never lied. Even when it probably would have been in your best interest.”

He huffed, “I’m old. Keeping up with all the lies gets too tiring.”

“You’re not that old,” she said. “You’re here! Top 8.”

“Woo!” whooped another voice. James Jones the II slid to the edge of the shelter, reaching into the crate he had been using to keep his prosthetic in to keep it away from the elements as best he could. He began to start putting everything on, “Top 8! Only gets worse from here, lads!”

📽️

CruzSwynlake, UKAthlete

“I’m getting really sick and tired of James’ brand of humor. It’s just so juvenile and annoying. He’s the youngest one here, but only by like a few weeks! You don’t hear my hooping and hollering in the morning after we just sent someone who didn’t deserve to go home. It’s insensitive. Like, sure, we’re all still happy to be here, but have some grace.”

She sighed, looking away from the producers and camera to shake her head with her disappointment.

“I feel so stupid after last night. I’m the reason Gabriella is gone. I had a complete misunderstanding of what we were doing. If I had known what was going on I would never have written her name down and maybe she would still be here...Because if I had written Drakken, like everyone else, then Ken and her would have tied and we could have probably voted James or Su out. I need to talk to Su again. It might be easier to convince her to flip after Toby and Drakken’s stunt last night. I know her biggest ally is James so they’re a package deal but– ugh. I’ll just have to grit my teeth until we can get him out after the other two.”

📽️

When Su asked for help in getting water from the well, Cruz popped up to join her. Everyone eyed them but said nothing.

She noticed James shoot Su a glance, his brows furrowing. Su just smiled and nodded before turning that bright expression to Cruz and nodding to the path to the well.

Cruz waited until they were a ways away from the camp before turning the conversation over into strategy. “Soooo, that Tribal was pretty crazy huh? You guys pulled that blindside off, like, perfectly.”

Su frowned, “I…I didn’t know that’s how they were voting.”

“Really?” Cruz feigned bemusement. She blinked, turning as if to think it over. “But– but there were three votes on Gabriella’s name.”

“I know,” she said. “I don’t get it either.”

“So James didn’t write it?”

“No, we thought we were all voting for Ken,” she admitted. “He’s great around camp and super nice but…the challenges moving forward are probably going to be pretty physical and he’s just so good at them. Only way we have a shot is if there’s puzzles, too.” A beat passed before Su’s eyes widened. “Oh that was so mean! I’m sorry! I think he’s great but–”

Cruz giggled, shaking her head. “No, no. I get it. And you’re right! But that still doesn’t explain where the third vote came from. Are you sure James voted with you?”

“Positive,” she nodded. “Who else would have voted for Ken?”

“Me,” Cruz said.

“You voted for Ken?”

It was a risky move, Cruz knew. But she needed to be risky at this point in the game. “Like you said, he’s a threat. And I thought I was going home last night, so I just wrote him down thinking it would be funny if there was just a random Ken in the pool.”

Su smiled at this then frowned as the implications set in. “I can’t believe they wouldn’t have told me, though…wouldn’t it have been better to have four votes to three? Just in case?”

Cruz made a face, reaching out to touch Su’s arm. “I’m telling you, Su, they don’t trust you. It’s a boy’s club. I saw you this morning, Hatter already likes you and Eda doesn’t care, so long as Drakken is the next one out. And you know Ken.”

“Just happy to be here,” Su nodded. “But what about James?”

“What about James?” Cruz shook her head. “If he’s working with them and didn’t tell you, you can’t trust him anymore.”

Su’s lips pressed together, squishing to one side of her mouth as she approached the well to start collecting the water. They remained silent on the trip back to camp, plenty to think about.

📽️

James Jones the IISwynlake UK Musician

“Hatter and I are the providers of the group, which I enjoy, you know. Everyone lets me take the fishing equipment down to the beach and it’s the only time I have away from the crazy lot. I love them to death, don’t get me wrong, but when you’re stuck with these people for weeks on end and everyone’s all paranoid and biting each other’s heads off all the time– it can get pretty annoying. Sometimes you’ve gotta just get the [BLEEP] away from everyone.”

📽️

Drakken was hard at work improving the camp grounds.

His original design had served his original tribe well, but since he had the time and energy, he decided it was time for an upgrade. They still had weeks left on the beach and he intended to spend it in as much comfort as he could muster.

He had adapted pretty well to using the tools he had created from the wood of the trees and the rocks he’d found lying around. It made it easier to collect more supplies, and of course Toby had no problems helping when Drakken asked. Even Eda pitched in.

“But only if you can make me a hammock,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

“That can be arranged.”

He enjoyed these days in between Tribal and the challenges. It meant they could try to recuperate, though it was hard in these conditions. Still, they water and James and Hatter always brought in enough food for everyone, Hatter preparing it and Su learning the ropes with his guidance. They didn’t have to worry about the basics, just about the constant bugs and heat.

It quickly became a team effort, with Ken offering his help as soon as he saw Toby struggling with the wood he had collected.

The only person who wasn’t helping was Cruz.

He didn’t know where she had disappeared to but it was clear that the rest of the camp was wondering where her extra pair of hands had decided they would be better used for, too. Which was fine by him.

He knew that the former Kaven tribe was his biggest fan and that they had been targeting him since their merge. It was why he had been over the moon that Toby, his greatest ally, had taken the former immunity challenge, ensuring their safety after he played the idol he had been lugging around with him since the beginning of their time here. He hadn’t needed to use it, as his tribe had been filled with people better suited to leave before himself.

It had just been good fortune that they had won about the same amount of challenges as the Kaven tribe, trading Tribal Councils back and forth until they’d each been whittled down to nine people in total. Drakken had needed to form a strategy to get one of them to flip so that his tribe wouldn’t be picked off one by one, keeping them from the final five.

And, as it turned out, they hadn’t needed to do much.

He had known within five minutes of speaking with Toby that he was in the presence of someone who would be able to manipulate the social game of this experience as if it were a mere blade of grass between his fingers. The best part was that everyone underestimated him because, well– Drakken had to be honest, he didn’t exactly have the presence of someone to be fearful of. It was why Drakken had approached him in the first place, thinking he would be easy to get on his side if only he showed him some extension of friendship.

They had been a perfect pairing, if Drakken did say so himself. Drakken would point the finger and Toby would lay the groundwork in getting the person to fold in on themself and get everyone else to send them home.

After Toby had own immunity and Su and James had said they should vote Ken, Drakken had agreed with them. But saw another opportunity after Su had informed everyone that Cruz had said she thought she was who was next on the chop and block. Clearly there was a misunderstanding between her and the other former Kaven’s and with a simple push, they had gotten her to send Gabriella home instead.

The only problem moving forward from there would be getting Su and James to trust them again after betraying them and not getting Ken out. Drakken agreed that the furniture maker needed to go, a threat to everyone aside from perhaps Eda as far as physical challenges went, but it had been a much more elegant way of getting Gabriella out. And, at the end of the day, this was a game! Drakken wanted to play at a higher level than just getting the easy target out.

When James had returned with his catches of the day, they had made a good dent in the refurbishments to the camp. The shelter was getting built out, allowing them more room, and had a better constructed roof that would protect them against any rain that decided to roll in. They had made another fire pit so that food could be made faster for everyone, instead of having to go one at a time. Drakken had even been able to start assembling the bases for raised beds for everyone.

And, of course, he had made Eda her hammock, which she laid in while Hatter and Su began cooking the fish, as well as the coconuts Hatter had acquired

📽️

EdaThe Boiling Isles, Ingary

“I hate admitting this but I guess I will since he won’t see this until it airs– but Drakken isn’t kidding around when he says he knows his way around a tool box. He was over there drawing his ideas in the sand, explaining it to everyone. I didn’t really understand but, hey, if he was going to make the rest of the stay here that much more comfortable, I wasn’t going to stop him. And if this is what he can do with a bunch of sticks, a hatchet, and a rock for a hammer, then what can he do with an actual tool box?

“Don’t get me wrong, I still want him gone, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get something out of his time left here, right?”

📽️

Before anyone knew it, they were traveling to meet with Jeff for their reward challenge.

Eda, who had been keeping up the bit of flirting with the host ever since they had met, blew the man a kiss. To which Jeff cracked a smile and reached up to catch it, stuffing it in one of his shirt’s breast pockets and patting it.

“Come on in everyone,” Jeff said, putting his hands back on his hips as everyone fell into line across from him. “Let’s get to it. For today’s reward challenge, you’ll take part in an obstacle course. You’ll be running in teams of four, which you will draw for. Throughout the course will be bags of puzzle pieces you will be racing for. On my go, both members will race for their bags, come back up to this platform to place their bags at your team’s table and tag in your next team member who will jump down into an awaiting net to begin their part of the course. Once you have all the pieces, you will use them to solve a puzzle. The puzzle will help you solve a combination lock. The first person to finish and raise their flag will wins reward. Do you guys want to know what you’re playing for?”

Everyone nodded.

“The team who wins will get to hop aboard our luxury yacht where there will be a buffet style meal waiting for them. Now, let’s draw for teams,” Jeff said, picking up and shaking the bag full of black and white rocks.

One by one the contestants stuck their hand inside and pulled out a rock, resulting in two teams of four.

Toby, Hatter, Su and Cruz on one team. Eda, Ken, James, and Drakken on the other.

“Here we go!” Jeff yelled from his spot on the platform beside the puzzle tables. “Looks like we have James and Su going up against one another to start us off.”

“Good luck!” Su smiled, waving at James.

“You, too, Su-Su,” James grinned back before the both of them turned and set their sights on the ledge they were jumping off of

“Survivors ready! Go,” Jeff said, lifting a hand above his head.

“Su and James, neck and neck. Both of them struggling to get out of the net, but it seems like Su’s got her footing a little before James has rolled out of the net. Didn’t look too graceful but whatever works. Su with her edge is pulling herself across the way to get to her bag, and it looks like James is going to be able to catch up with her here. Su working to untie her bag. Oh, it looks like James has already got his and is getting back across the line. Su has hers now, too, close behind.

“James makes it to the staircase first, but Su is right behind him. Both of them bounding up these steps, able to tag in their teammates as soon as those bags are on the table. And there goes Eda, down into the net. Toby goes right after. Also doesn’t have the most graceful of landings, where Eda is already making her way across the ropes. Balance always impeccable–”

“Thank you, Jeff!”

“Toby is up and finally over to the ropes, but Eda is getting her bag loose. Seems to be struggling with that knot, though, as Toby stumbled his way under that tunnel. Eda has her bag and is back under, trying to get across those ropes once again. Toby has his bag and– oh, putting it in his mouth. Okay, I guess that’s one way to do it. Eda is through the ropes and making her way to the stairs. Toby is still struggling. Here comes Eda, a few more steps and she has her bag down tagging in Ken who– whoa! Ken dives head first into the net. Dangerous play but it seemed to work out as he is already up and out of it

“Toby finally making his way to the stairs but Ken is already out of the net and hopping with seemingly no problems across the obstacle. Cruz finally able to tag in and makes quick work of the net.. Ken with his bag is starting to make his way back but Cruz , who has her foot on the gas pedal, is working on getting her bag already. Here comes Ken up the stairs. Cruz, who has single handedly made up for a lot of lost time for her team, is right there!

“Now Hatter is tagged in, and Drakken. The last of the bags need to be collecting before the teams can get started on this puzzle that will give them a clue on how to solve the number lock. Both Drakken and Hatter having a little trouble getting up and out of the net, but manage. Hatter looks like he has a slight edge up on Drakken as they make their way across the bridge. Here we go, who is going to get their bag first? Looks like it’s going to be Hatter, who is starting to come back across his bridge. Drakken now, too. They still have a long stretch of stairs to climb up, which should not be underestimated. After all this time spent out in the elements, testing the body physically and mentally, a stretch of stairs is brutal. But they both have made it up and have their final bag for their team!

“You must first solve the puzzle, then follow the instructions. Here’s where the mental game starts, after all that running, you gotta keep your head and not panic so you can fit these pieces together before the other team. Drakken is quickly getting on it, as usual. Toby, Cruz, Su, and Hatter working through the puzzle. Everyone on Drakken’s team seems to be letting him do the work while all four on the other team are trying to work together. Drakken seems to be making a lot of progress though. It’s going to come down to who can finish this the fastest. Right now it looks like Drakken has the leg up. This puzzle contains clue, these clues will help you solve the combination lock. That lock will release your flag, and that team will be rewarded with an afternoon on a luxury boat with a full buffet. It’s that simple, and it’s that complicated.

“Drakken continues to make progress on his team’s puzzle, but the other teams looks close, too but they need to pick it up. Looks like Drakken has…solved the puzzle! Now his team is trying to solve the clues. Everything you need is right there, if they read them, they will be given the answers to solve the combination lock. Eda jumps back off into the net to go seek out information, Ken going with her.

“Looks like the other team has their puzzle together and are trying to read the clues. Ken is back from wherever he went to tell Drakken something. Now Drakken already has four of the six numbers they need and here comes Eda back up the steps. Does she have the right information? Drakken is putting in the last two numbers, given to him by Eda, giving it a try. Will it work? It does! Eda, Drakken, James, and Cruz win reward!” Jeff yelled, tossing up his hands with the double peace signs far above his head.

Once everyone had gathered back down at the bottom for production, the winning team standing next to Jeff while the other four sat down on a log, Jeff spoke again. “Alright, to review, you four have won an evening aboard a yacht where you will have access to a full buffet meal. You can keep it for yourself, but if you want to give it up to someone else, you can do that as well.”

“I’m keeping it,” Eda is quick to say.

James and Ken nod their agreement.

Drakken, though, raises his hand. “I’ll give mine to Cruz.”

This startled everyone. Even Jeff’s eyes widened.

“Cruz?”

“Yes,” Drakken confirmed. “She worked really hard to give her team a fair shot, and hasn’t been on a reward at all this whole game. I think she needs it more than I do.”

“Okay,” Jeff said. “Drakken is giving his reward up to Cruz, everyone else is keeping theirs. The yacht will pick you four up. Everyone else, good effort. Head on back to camp.”

📽️

DrakkenSan Antonio, Texas

“Everyone might be thinking, why would I give my reward up to the girl who didn’t lift a finger to help us spruce up the camp? Well, to be honest, I think it will be good to send her with those three. James will stay loyal to Su. That much has been clear to me since the beginning. They’re two peas in a pod. Which is great, but Toby and I need to get her back on our side. If we have her, then we have James, too. And Su is close to Hatter. She might be able to get him to flip. Meanwhile, I know Cruz is going to be on that boat as the only person who didn’t earn her place there. That will create resentment. At least, I believe it will. Ken probably doesn’t have the brain width to care, but Eda and James will. Especially if she’s talking to them, trying to be positive like she always is. That’s not their personalities. It will just grate on them. It’s perfect! Sure, I miss out on food, but what else is new?

“And I didn’t want to go if Toby couldn’t come. This way I can continue working on the beds I’ve designed. Hopefully get them together before the next Immunity challenge.”

📽️

Almost comically, Drakken’s predictions go exactly as he had thought they would.

While Ken was busy putting away plate after plate of food, Cruz attempted to cozy back up to Eda, who didn’t want to hear it. Her attempts to talk to James are futile as well, as he kept his mouth full or gave her monosyllabic answers to any questions or offers she threw out.

Back on the beach, the remaining four carry on with chores around camp. As soon as Hatter disappeared into the forest, no doubt to go collect his usual run of fruits and other plants, Drakken and Toby sit down to help Su start cutting up coconuts.

Drakken cut right to the chase. “We’re sorry we didn’t tell you or James about the vote.”

“Why didn’t you?” Su accused.

“Because we knew you were close with Gabriella,” Toby admitted.

“And you didn’t think I would vote with her? Even if it was with you guys?”

“No,” Drakken said. “We didn’t want you to have to vote for her.”

Su frowned. “But it would have guaranteed you sent her home if you had my vote as a fourth.”

“Three was enough.”

She sighed and then nodded. “So now what? You guys are back to talking to me again? Just like that? Because you need me?”

“Yes,” Drakken said, uncaring that it may have seemed weak. This was the game. “And you need us. You have James, sure, but you know everyone will be wanting to vote me off. The last Tribal showed that. And if I go, then they’ll pick you three off one by one.”

“You think they’re still loyal to one another?”

“Seems to be that way,” Drakken shrugged. “We are.”

“Are we?”

“Only if you want to be,” Toby said.

“And,” Drakken added, glancing over his shoulder in the direction Hatter had gone. “If you can get Mr. Hatter to flip, we can save ourselves another round here.”

“But…then who are we voting out? Ken?”

Toby and Drakken glanced sideways at one another.

“Assuming he doesn’t win immunity, sure. If not, we’ll have to think about someone else,” Drakken said. “But do you think you can convince Mr. Hatter?”

“I don’t think I need to convince him,” Su said. “He’s smart. He knows Ken will go on an Immunity run if we let him. If I let him know that’s what you guys are doing, he’ll probably agree to take the opportunity to get him out while we can. And–! Him and Eda are friends, he would probably tell her, too.”

“Perfect,” Drakken smiled and then stood. “Alright! Well, I’m going to get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.”

Su nodded, and her and Toby continued cracking coconuts, discussing movies together until Hatter returned to start cooking their dinner, which wasn’t a buffet, but it was

📽️

KenDallas, Texas

“Where do you guys get your food! That stuff was great! I think I are at least– I don’t know ten steaks? I mean, I felt like puking by the time I was done, but James had challenged me to that watermelon off and I couldn’t say no.”

📽️

“Come on in guys!” Jeff said, watching the contestants make their way across the beach toward him. As everyone lined up, he made his way over to Toby. “First things first, I’ll take back the idol.”

Toby presented the necklace of feathers, beads, and plates of metal back to Jeff, who walked it back over to rest on a post where it would remain until the winner of that day’s challenge would get to claim it. “Once again, Immunity, back up for grabs. Okay! Let’s get to today’s challenge. You are going to be attached to a rope that it attached to a precariously balanced bucket of water above your heads. If you drop your arm, the bucket of water will fall, and you will be out. The last person to let their water rain down will win Immunity and be guaranteed a spot in the final seven. Losers, Tribal Council, where someone will become the second member of our jury.”

Once everyone was fastened into the bracelets, their arms stretched up above their heads, Jeff raised his hand.

“And begin.”

Silence stretched over the contestants aside from the occasional sniff.

After the first twenty minutes passed, Jeff started to walk around.

“Feeling anything James? Back starting to get to you a little?”

“Yeah,” the boy nodded, reaching up to push his buff back out of his eyes. He’d been wearing it there like a sweat band to keep his curls from sticking to his forehead and out of his eyes. “But it’s mainly my ass that’s hurting.”

“What?” Jeff laughed a little. “Why’s that?”

On either side of James, Ken and Eda laughed, too.

“They know. They were there,” James smiled. “You see, Jeff, yesterday when I was on that big fancy boat, I slipped on deck and smacked my butt against the floor.”

“Oooh,” Jeff winced.

“Exactly,” James nodded.

“Well hang in there,” he said and moved along to where Eda was waiting for him. “How are you today, Eda?”

“I’m wonderful now that you’re here, Jeffery, how are you?”

“I’m doing good,” he smiled.

“Ugh, careful, you show me those dimples any longer and I’m going to have to dump this bucket of cold water all over me.”

Jeff ducked his head, quick to move along to where Drakken was standing, who was quick to point out, “Eda, you made him blush!”

Toby was the first one out, his bucket coming down at the half hour mark. But as soon as his tipped, so did Su’s. The pair of them went to go sit on the shaded wood benches off to the side, smiling and shaking their heads at one another as they wiped their water logged faces off.

Drakken’s came next at around 45 minutes, and then Hatter’s just before the hour.

After an hour and a half, James started singing.

“What is that?” Drakken asked, looking to Su who was rolling her eyes.

“Baby Shark,” she groaned and then cupped her hands around her mouth. “Shut up! You’re going to get that stuck in my head.

James only got louder.

At two hours, Jeff was back and he had a plate with a cheeseburger on it. “Wouldn’t be Survivor without a little temptation.”

“Come on, Jeff!” James said. “That’s just cruel, man.”

“What are you talking about? You just had a full buffet not too long ago,” Jeff shot back.

“I was talking about the other ones over there.”

“You could give it to them, if you got out,” the host goaded. “It might not win you Immunity, but it could get you a vote in your favor.”

“Sneaky, sneaky, Probst,” James shook his head, but did cast a glance over to where the other four were all sitting out.

“Don’t do it, James!” Su called out. “Hang in there!”

James looked back to Jeff, smiling, “You heard her.”

Jeff moved along, holding the plate underneath Ken and Cruz’s noses. But when everyone passed it up he wandered over to Hatter, Drakken, Toby, and Su to hand off the plate. They each took turns taking a bite until it was all gone.

Cruz’s bucket came down about half an hour later.

Unfortunately, when Jeff brought out a plate of chocolate chip cookies, James was quick to take the plate. He brought it over to the bench to share the spread and watch as Eda and Ken continued to hang in there.

“Come on, Ken,” Eda started to haggle at four hours in. “You know you want to.”

“I do,” he nodded but offered nothing else after this, going back to staring at nothing.

Eda huffed. As simple minded as he was, sometimes it sure didn’t work in anyone’s favor but his own since he wasn’t even picking up that she was trying to talk smack to him.

Finally, after the six hour mark, Eda’s bucked wavered and fell over her head.

“Ken wins Immunity!” Jeff called from his spot on the ground under some trees, he pushed himself to his feet. “Eda put up a good fight, but in the end, Ken takes it.”

Ken smiled wide, undoing his wrist band to meet Jeff and bend down a little for the host to put the idol around his neck.

“Safe from tonight’s vote, three more days out here. Immunity is valuable, as you know, and you can assign it to someone else if you want. You’ll have this afternoon to think about it. Everyone, you can head back to camp, but I will be seeing you again tonight for Tribal Council.”

📽️

TobyGlen Waverley, Australia

“Since Ken has Immunity, we had to rethink what we’re going to do for tonight. It was actually a lot more simple than I thought it was going to be. Su and James agreed with Drakken and I, and then Su said that she would talk to Hatter and see where his head was at. I didn’t necessarily have the best feeling she’d be able to convince him to vote with us, but that’s probably because the man’s only ever said a few words to me. He’s quite scary when he wants to be, have you noticed?

“Anyway– I about had a heart attack when both he and Eda came over to me while I was on the beach. I thought I was going to be the first person murdered on this show. But they were just coming to see what the deal was that Su was trying to talk them about. I explained it better and I think we’ve all agreed on what to do. I asked if they wanted to include Ken in on it but they said they’d talk to him. So. We’ll see. If not, I’m confident we’ll have four votes. But if they’ve got four votes…we’ll see.”

📽️

CruzSwynlake, UK

“So I saw Su talking to Hatter while they were making dinner and thought, Hmm, because soon after he got up and went to poke Eda, who also got up and walked with him down to the beach. Now, they had told me that we were going to vote for Toby because I didn’t want to vote for Drakken after he gave me his reward. But if Su was still loyal to him and Drakken, I wanted to know if she was trying to get Hatter to flip because the only other option would have been for me or Eda since Ken has Immunity!

“I go over to Su and get the scoop. Turns out Su and James are the ones who are flipping on Drakken and wanted to let them know that if they vote Drakken, they were with them. And I was like–” Cruz put a hand to her chest, breathing out and then smiling wide. “Woo! I mean, yeah, I feel bad but it’s a good move. If we blind side him then it’s a great move, and we get him out. Then we just have to get Toby out, which will be easy, and their votes will go to whoever makes it to the end. And I plan on one of those someone’s being me.”

📽️

Everyone took their seats on the benches at Tribal Council after placing their torches in their designated holds. Jeff watched them from the other side of the fire, the flames higher than usual.

“We’ll now bring in the first member of the jury.”

Gabriella walked out, looking clean and lovely in a sundress. Her hair was down around her shoulders, bangs no longer in the disarray everyone had gotten to know as she spent time out in the water with James fishing, the salt water and sun drying it oddly. An interpreter joined her. She smiled and waved, beaming at Su and Cruz as she took her seat.

“Gabriella is here merely to observe, gathering information to help him make a very important vote at the final Tribal Council,” Jeff went on before taking his own seat on the cushioned stool. “Okay. You all have been out here for a long time now. Toby, is there anyone in this tribe you couldn’t survive without?”

Instantly, the man’s finger pointed to James, “This one. His ability to catch fish and do it every day might be the only reason I haven’t died. I think we’d be in much worse conditions without him. Or Hatter.”

“Eda, how important are James’ fishing abilities, would you say?”

“Very important,” she agreed, turning to wink at the kid who smiled back at her. “Yeah, I mean, he and Hatter are the hunter gatherers. Hatter and Su do the cooking. I’m not complaining at all.”

“Would you say there’s anyone here who’s getting a free ride?” Jeff asked. “Are you?”

“I pull my weight, everyone here does, honestly. Drakken over here has been renovating the camp in his free time and we’ve all been pitching in to help,” Eda said. “Well. Almost everyone.”

“What’s that mean?”

Eda shrugged, grinning. “It means what it means, Jeffery.”

“You’re not going to name names?”

“They know who they are. Everyone does.”

“I don’t!” Jeff grinned, making everyone laugh. “But okay, I get it. Ken, you have Immunity. It’s yours to keep, or give away to someone else. If you want to.”

“I’ll keep it,” Ken said.

“Wise decision,” Jeff said. “Alright, that being said, Ken cannot be voted for tonight. Everyone else is fair game. It is time to vote. Cruz, you’re up.”

One by one, everyone rose from their seats to go write down a name and put it into the vase with the other votes. When they had all done it, Jeff went to grab the vase and bring it over to the little table in the place his stool had once sat.

“Once the votes are read, the decision is final. The person voted out will be asked to leave the Tribal Council area immediately. I’ll read the votes,” he said and took the lid off. Jeff took a paper out, turning it around to face them. “First vote. Toby.”

Drakken reached over to put a hand on his shoulder and Toby smiled at him before they both looked back to Jeff who pulled out the next paper. “Drakken. One vote Toby, one vote Drakken.”

Cruz turned her had, glancing over at the pair, feeling a little smug.

But neither of them looked worried. She blinked and turned her eyes to the other players there. The only person who did look a little confused was Ken but– when didn’t he look confused at Tribal Council?

“Cruz,” said Jeff, making her head snap in his direction, eyebrows raising. “One vote Toby, one vote Drakken, one vote Cruz.”

He pulled out the next paper.

“Cruz.”

And the next.

“Cruz.”

And the next two, which all read Cruz.

“The ninth person voted out of their tribe,” Jeff said and turned the paper over to reveal another one that read Cruz. “Cruz. You need to bring me your torch.”

Numbly she stood up, pulled her torch from its spot, and carried it over to Jeff. She looked over the other players, and saw Eda smiling at her. Cruz couldn’t believe it. She had been the blind side all along? Cruz blinked, her stomach sinking, as she faced Jeff.

“Cruz, your tribe has spoken,” he told her and put out the fire of her torch. Smoke replaced the flames as Cruz walked down the path away from Tribal Council, still trying to work out where exactly she had gone wrong. The host addressed those that remained, “You guys can head back to camp. Good night.”

----

36 days ago, 16 contestants began the adventure of a lifetime. Wearing only their street clothes they journeyed to Fiji where they were thrown into their first challenge. Literally.

“You will jump off this boat and swim to gather the supplies you and your tribe will need to survive your time on the beach.”

Right from the beginning the Kaven Tribe were antagonistic and refused to work together, while the Jaber Tribe seemed to click instantly. Once at camp, the Jabers continued to do well, using their strengths to come together to help one another. The Kaven Tribe were finally able to find their footing after Eda emerged as a leader and got everyone to work together to build a shelter that would keep them dry those first nights.

The tribes traded the Immunity Idol back and forth throughout the first days, but each would see half of their tribes eliminated as the days wore on. On day 21 the game changed and the two tribes were merged. They became the Anabars.

Old alliances broke down when Cruz made a few dangerous mistakes. First, in being the one to help vote out Gabriella and making her the first member of the jury. Then, when trying to convince Su that she was the one that voted with her, accidentally exposed herself as being a liar.

“She said what?” James yelped, only to get Su’s hand pressed to his mouth.

“Shh!” Su hushed. “Obviously I know she’s lying. Your handwriting is too distinct.”

In the end, Cruz was the next to go as the former Jabers convinced two of the former Kavens to vote with them to get her out of the game.

Hatter and Eda made a pact to stay together. And Drakken, Toby, Su, and James continued their bond in having once been in a tribe together. Uneasy with the bond they seemed to have, Eda used Hatter to try to break Su away from Drakken and Eda, and bringing her alliance with James along with her.

Meanwhile, Ken continued to dominate and won three consecutive Immunity challenges.

“Ken wins Immunity!”

“Once again, Ken wins Immunity, guaranteeing himself a spot in the final four!”

Three tight duos continued to battle it out, trying to break one another up. Eda and Hatter versus James and Su versus Toby and Drakken. Loyalties ran deep as everyone tried to convince Ken to be their third vote. But in the end, Drakken was able to convince Su and James to vote with him and Toby to get Eda out, breaking up her and Hatter.

Only then, with James and Su thinking they would take Hatter out next, Drakken got Hatter on his and Toby’s side, along with bringing in Ken, to vote out James.

The last of the duos standing, it was Toby who went home next, as Su, Ken, and Hatter came together to break them up.

After that Hatter went next as Drakken was able to convince Ken to vote with him after giving Ken the reward challenge of seeing his loved one.

The final Immunity challenge resulted in an upset, as Drakken took the Immunity Idol, leaving Su and Ken to start preparing for the Fire Building Challenge to see who would get to join Drakken as the final two survivors to plead their case to the jury. It seemed that everyone, even Ken, knew Su, who had been starting fires throughout their stay here alongside Hatter to prepare meals, would be taking the victory.

In another surprise, Drakken gave his Immunity to Ken.

“I’ll be making fire against Su tonight, Jeff.”

“Wow.”

And in a memorable Fire Making Challenge, it was Drakken who took the lead, leaving Su to become apart of the final jury who will vote tonight to see who will be the sole survivor.

“Drakken. Ken. We will now bring in our final jury,” Jeff said, listing out the names of the former players as they filed in to fill the benches. “Gabriella, Cruz, Eda, Hatter, Toby, James, and Su.”

Jeff also took a seat, smiling at the pair. “Welcome to your final Tribal Council. The game changes tonight as you are no longer in control. That power belongs to your former Tribe members, seven people that you had a hand in voting out of this game now control your fate entirely. Your task tonight will be to convince this jury that you are the most worthy of the title of Sole Survivor and the million-dollar prize. Here’s how it will work, I’ll give you the chance to make an opening statement. That will be your time to convince your jury that you’re worthy. The jury will then get an opportunity to ask you a question. You’ll then get to make a final rebuttal. After hearing your responses the jury will vote. The biggest vote in 39 days is going to happen tonight. Ready to get started?”

Ken smiled, nodding, “Let’s go!”

“Okay, with that enthusiasm, Ken, why don’t you go first?”

“Hi, everyone,” Ken said as he turned to face them. “I’m really happy to get to see you all again. Pondaosa looks like it’s been treating you all very well. So, I feel like I deserve to win because I’ve shown that I am a survivor! I’ve won the most Immunity challenges, and I think everyone can agree that I was able to get Kraven a lot of those wins. I may not have been as good at catching fish as James, or could cook like Su or Hatter could, but I helped where I could. And I was always a team player! Any time anyone came to me with a plan, I would back them 100%. I never doubled back on my word, even when the people I thought I could trust left me out of their decisions. But my strategy was to make sure I could be the go-to guy and for those last few Tribal Councils, I was that guy. I was the one you all came to me, hoping to get my vote.”

Jeff nodded, then gestured, “Drakken.”

“I know many of you here don’t like me. Either I was too assertive for your taste or you didn’t like the way I spoke to you. That’s fine. I accept that. But I want to ask you all to think about this game and all that I have done. I found two Hidden Idols, using one to save a fellow teammate of mine at the beginning and then myself while me and Toby were able to get Cruz to willy nilly write a name she didn’t even think would mean anything, until she wound up voting with us and getting Gabriella voted off. Then I was able to blindside Cruz herself and get her own tribe alliance to flip on her. And, it was thanks to me that we all had beds to sleep on instead of the ground for those last fatiguing days at the camp. I think I deserve to win because I played a smart game. When given the opportunity, I didn’t just walk in here because I couldn’t be voted out. I chose to earn it and show why I deserve to win. I can make shelter, I can build a fire, I can designate the work where it needs to go, and I can survive all 39 days without going on a single reward challenge.”

“Jury,” Jeff said, “in a moment you’re going to have a chance to ask Drakken and Ken a question that will help you decide who you think should be the Sole Survivor. We’ll give you a second to think about what you want to say.”

Time passed and when those fifteen minutes were up, Jeff spoke again.

“Alright, jury, the goal here is to gain information to help you make an important vote. So do not waste this opportunity.”

“Why are you looking at me?” James asked.

Jeff shrugged, “I was just making sure you were paying attention. Gabriella, you’re up first.”

The girl stood, her interpreter standing beside her, translating aloud as she signed, “Congratulations, you guys.”

“Thank you,” Ken smiled while Drakken nodded in reply.

“Ken,” Gabriella signed, “you were given the Immunity Idol at the end and a free pass to sit here. Why should I give you the million dollars when Drakken decided to earn his way here?”

“Well, I don’t think I got a free pass. I think I earned my way here, too. I won the Immunity challenges to get here which, you all know, are no easy task. Especially when going up against people like Eda, who is an absolute power house, or Su, who is deceptively fast! There were some close calls in there, but I managed and I think that should count for something.”

Gabriella nodded, “Thank you. Drakken, my question for you, do you think you would have made it this far without Toby?”

“Honestly? No, I don’t think so,” he shook his head, glancing over at the man in question. He smiled as he spoke, “Toby served as my filter for a lot of the game. I think without him, my first Tribe would have voted me out a long long time ago. But he was able to help me and advocate for me. I appreciate him a lot, but I will say that it was because I didn’t underestimate him like everyone else that I was able to bring him to the forefront of this game as well. We worked together. Without him, I wouldn’t be here, but without me, he wouldn’t have gotten this far either, and I think he would agree.”

Toby nodded earnestly when Gabriella turned to check. “Okay, thank you.”

“Thank you,” Drakken signed back, making Gabriella smile as she returned to her seat.

“Cruz,” Jeff beckoned. She bounced up and over, waving.

“Hi!” she grinned. “So, I’m actually super impressed with the both of you! But my question is super basic and it’s for both of you. What would you do with the million dollars?”

Drakken cleared his throat, indicating he was going to answer first, “I’m a science teacher, and in my time in that profession I recognize that education is vital. But it’s so underfunded it’s ridiculous. So, while I would use a portion of that money on myself and mom, who deserves to be papered a little, I would also try to find politicians and organizations to help that would start the fire burning on education again. We are in dire need of it. Kids should be given the resources they need to, forgive the pun, survive in this world. We’ve failed them, but I want to try to make up for it. Or at least start to.”

“Wow, that was…that’s a really good answer,” Ken nodded before blowing out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “I think I would donate it all.”

“All of it?” Cruz questioned. “You wouldn’t take any of it for yourself?”

“Nah,” Ken shrugged.

“Wow,” Jeff said.

“It’s not like I need it.”

There was a round of silence that passed over the scene and Ken frowned, looking around at the shocked faces, mouths agape.

“What do you mean?”’

“Well, I’m pretty well off,” Ken said like this was obvious. “My family’s business is big! Carson’s furniture.”

“Carson’s Furniture company? That’s what you meant by you’re a carpenter?” Eda said from the benches.

“Okay, okay, okay!” Jeff cut in. “If you want to ask a question, Eda, you’ll have to wait your turn.”

“Sorry, Jeffery,” she said, holding up her hands.

“Cruz, if you’ll return to your seat. Eda.”

The older woman replaced Cruz’s spot, “So, Ken, you’re rich? Why are you even here?”

“I’ve always loved the show! I thought it would be fun. I liked getting to meet everyone and make friends, it was a really nice time.”

Eda blinked her eyes in disbelief, laughing in a way that sounded more like a scoff. “Right…great. Okay, well, Drakken, why did you decide you wanted to build fire against Su when you already had Immunity?”

“I wanted to show everyone that I earned my place here. We were all aware that apart from Hatter that Su was the best fire maker out of us. If I won, it would be another thing to add to my resume. It was risky, but I spent the whole game making risky plays. I was able to get out James and Hatter with these strategies. High risk means high reward and since I’m over here, and you all are over there, it worked out.”

Eda shook her head, “Do you always have to be such an ass?”

Drakken smiled, “I think Jeff told you that you only had one question to spare.”

Eda stuck out her tongue to him.

“Satisfied?” Jeff prompted.

Eda turned, giving him a once over, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Jeff blinked then quickly recovered, waving her on. “Sit down. James, you’re up.”

“Alright, how about you guys tell me why the other one doesn’t deserve to win the million dollars? Ken, you can go first,” James said.

Ken made a face, looking at Drakken, who laughed at him. “Come on, you were asked, you have to answer.”

“I don’t know!” Ken shrugged helplessly. “I– I mean he was kinda mean and disrespectful a lot of the time but everyone would say stuff!”

“Not you, Ken,” Su piped up.

“That can’t be true,” he shook his head.

“No, I think it is,” Drakken agreed. “You’re pretty much the only one here who didn’t make enemies.”

“Yeah,” James nodded. “We all hate you because you’re so fit and still manage to look like that after nearly 40 days on a beach with only fish and coconuts to eat.”

Ken laughed, rubbing at his bearded face.

“My answer to this question,” Drakken said, “would be to cite what Ken just said. He doesn’t need the money. He’s already rich, he came here for the experience, which he already got.”

James nodded, lower lip jutting out, and returned to his place.

“Toby,” Jeff nodded. Toby rose from his spot, stumbling a little as he stepped down from the second row, but recovering as he made his way to the designated spot for the camera.

“How you going?” he greeted, smiling at them. “Ken, I have really admired your optimism throughout this whole experience. Honestly, some days I would get up and not want to be sitting in the sand or doing those hard challenges every few days, or getting in my head, paranoid about who was thinking what, but through it all you were always so positive. Always just– so happy to be there! How did you do that?”

“Thank you, man. That– that means a lot to me,” Ken said, having to swallow to clear his throat, which had become tight with emotion. “Um, I don’t know! That’s just kind of who I am. Like I said, I wanted to be on this show because I’ve always liked watching it and thought it was such an honor to be chosen. And the people I got to be on it with! I know this sounds corny, or whatever, but I love you guys. You were the reasons I wanted to get up in the mornings. James and Eda’s jokes, Drakken making some really funky contraptions with nothing but leaves and sticks. Hatter and Su able to make fish not feel like the same dish over and over again. And you, Toby, you would always come talk to me about some really deep stuff– yeah. That’s my answer. You guys.”

“Thank you,” Toby said and then turned his attention to Drakken. They smiled at one another, obvious warmth between them. “Hi.”

“Hello, Tobias,” Drakken said getting a round of chuckles from the group.

“I don’t really have a question for you because I think we all know we were close and I know a lot about you by now. I just wanted to say that I’m so grateful for this experience and that you decided to come talk to me that day you did, because– well I’ve never had a best friend. I’ve never had a friend, so I didn’t know what that was like growing up. But I finally do and even though I didn’t win, I still feel like I did, since I know you. You made me a better person, showed me I was capable of things I didn’t think I was. And I really appreciate that.”

Drakken, who had gone glassy eyed, merely nodded his head and turned away, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve.

“Thank you, Toby. That was– very emotional,” Jeff commented. “Hatter, you’re next.”

Hatter stayed where he was seated, “I don’t have any questions.”

“Really?” Jeff asked. “You’ve already made up your mind?”

Hatter nodded.

“Okay then,” Jeff said. “Su, that leaves you.”

She stood up, smiling at them. “First, I just wanted to say congratulations to the both of you! It was really great getting to be there at the end with you both, so…um, but yeah! So for me, this is coming down between Ken having the survivability and physicality of the game, but Drakken, you having the strategic and mental game. I want to know why you think those strengths should win out over the other?”

“The game is called Survivor,” Ken said. “Right? In order to survive, you need to know certain things. How to build shelter, get water, start a fire, and get food. As well as being able to survive the elements. I think through these challenges and our time at camp, I’ve shown I’m capable of that. And I didn’t really have the strategies that other people did. I wasn’t even aware of that stuff going on! But I’m here, and that’s because of my abilities, physically.”

“Ken’s right, there are a lot of advantages someone of his physic are afforded,” Drakken said. “But, he played an easier game than me. I don’t think the challenges are easy, obviously, they’re designed by the team here to drive us out of our minds and to each other’s throats! That’s only a small portion of the game though. The thing that makes this show, this whole concept, continue on is the fact that there are different people here each time. No one person is the same, no one season of this show is the same because of the different cast. That’s what makes it interesting, seeing how we play against all these different people. And that’s where I think I thrived. It’s a greater strength to have than any amount of the physicality because while I could have lost all the challenges, so long as I tugged the right chords with people, I was able to make it here. And at the end of the day, it’s the social aspect that is going to decide, because you all are going to be biased one way or another, and it’s the people who will vote. Not any challenge between us. Otherwise they’d have us facing off right now instead of doing this, right?”

“Okay,” Su nodded, one corner of her mouth curling up. “Thank you!”

“Thanks, Su,” Jeff said, letting her return to her seat before speaking again. “Ken, Drakken, you’ve endured the questions and comments from the jury. In just a moment I’ll give you a chance to make a final rebuttal. I suggest you take this time to think about what you want your last words before the vote to be. Ken, we’ll start with you.”

“Right. I know I said earlier that I didn’t need the million dollars, and while that is true, I do still want to win! I made it this far and think I did all that I could in order to show people that I was capable of it. I did not just walk in here with a free pass, I won challenge after challenge, and stayed loyal to people when they asked that of me. I played this game the only way I knew how. I was never deceptive or tried to be anyone I wasn’t. I’ve always just been Ken. And I have no regrets about that. Thank you all for your time! Like I said, I loved this experience because I got to do it with all of you.”

“Drakken,” Jeff said. “Last chance to convince the jury to give you a million dollars.”

“No pressure,” he said, getting a soft chuckle from both Jeff and the jury. “I deserve that million dollars because I want it. I have wanted it from the time I signed up for this show all the way up to this point. It wasn’t my only motivating factor, but it’s been there in the back of my mind, like it has all of ours. I was willing to do whatever it took to get here. I played the game and I played it well. You all were witness to that. I was always thinking ahead, I had plans set up in case anything happened and then some! I had help, but we’re human. We all need help. That’s why they don’t send us to this island alone. I showed you all what I was capable of, and I continued to do that until the very end where I had the opportunity to just sit back and watch as Su and Ken duked it out but instead decided to show everyone, and even myself, that I could make fire and beat someone else at doing it with the pressure of that million dollars resting on my shoulders. It would mean a lot to me to have that money, and it would mean a lot to my mother, and the education system that I plan on revitalizing with it. Thank you.”

“Okay,” Jeff said. “Drakken, Ken, thank you for your comments. Jury, thank you for your questions. It is now time, finally, to get to the vote. Voting is a little different tonight as you are not voting someone out of the game. You will be voting for who you think deserves to win. You are voting for the person that you think is most deserving of the title Sole Survivor and the million dollars. So you want to see your name on the parchment tonight. It is time to vote. Gabriella, you’re up.”

And in the familiar way they had all grown accustomed to in their time on the island, one by one the members of the jury rose to go write a name down and cast their vote. They held up their paper for the camera to give their last comments.

Gabriella signed, “Drakken, I may not have liked you, but you played a good game. I was completely surprised every Tribal Council when something would happen and you would have this knowing look in your eyes, like you had been planning for it. You deserve to win.”

“Drakken,” Cruz said, “I’m only voting for you after finding out Ken’s actually been rich this whole time. He’s nice and beat all our asses in the challenges, which I admired a lot! But since you’re right, if he was just here for a good time, then he got that. You should have the money and the title.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve gotta give it to Drakken,” Eda rolled her eyes as she held up his name on her piece of parchment. “Ken’s a nice guy and all, but Drakken really played the game. I hate saying he’s smart, but he was. And…ah, [BEEP] it, if he and Toby don’t wind up being best friends after this, then I’ll track him down and throw him into the ocean myself.”

“Drakken, I’m giving it to you so you can get those kids their beakers or whatever the hell you were on about,” James said as he cast his vote. “And, yeah, you’re a smart bloke. I hope you can turn that million dollars into something good. You’re not as beautiful and lovely as Ken, but that’s not the game and I won’t let myself vote with my heart knowing he’s just some rich bloke who wanted to have a beach get away. Even if he is really nice and probably didn’t know he’d get a million dollars at the end of this. Anyway, congratulations. You’re still a bitch, though.”

Toby smiled at the camera as he held up Drakken’s name, “I know this isn’t a surprise or anything but I really think you deserve this. You played an outstanding game! I couldn’t have asked for a better partner and friend throughout my time here. I think you’ve proven to all of us why you deserve to win.”

Hatter made no comment, simply showed that he had written Dr. Drakken on his parchment and went back.

“I really wanted to vote for Ken,” Su said, showing she had written Drakken’s name with a smiley face next to it. “But he shot himself in the foot. Drakken, you do deserve this, even if you were kinda mean.”

When she returned, Jeff said, “For the last time, I’ll go tally the votes.”

He returned with the vase, “I know you guys would want me to read these votes out now but it’s going to have to wait. I’ll see you all on the other side.”

Jeff tucked the vase under his arm and walked out of Tribal Council, making his way across the beach in the light of the moon.

–

Everyone returned for the reunion, where that final episode was being shown to the live audience. Up on stage, Jeff walked out with the vase, as if this was a seamless transition from the end of the film to the show being recorded now. Cheers erupted, the band picked up where the music from the show had dropped off, and the whole cast of that season sat waiting on the stage, looking far better than they had during their time on the island.

Drakken and Ken, in particular, looked vastly different. As they had been the last two seen in their island garb and worn features. Both of their facial hair had been trimmed, their hair trimmed and styled. Ken wore an expensive looking outfit while Drakken merely looked put together in comparison.

Jeff placed the vase with the votes on the little table, smiling out at the crowd.

Eda, who had yet to let up on her bit, and that the cast and general crew of the show was thinking was very much not a bit anymore, stood up from her place to whistle loudly, using her fingers between her teeth to get it to sound above all the general noise. Jeff looked toward her and she grinned at him, sitting back down.

Finally, when the audience settled, Jeff spoke. “All right. Let’s get to it. Ken and Drakken, our final two, have been waiting a long time to hear this. Congratulations. Jury, thank you for a very good final Tribal Council. Like I said earlier, this is the time when you want to see your name on the parchment tonight. The person with the most votes will be declared our winner of the million dollars and given the title of Sole Survivor. There are seven votes inside here and it will take four to win. I’ll read the votes.”

One by one, they were read out. Seven votes for Drakken. Zero for Ken. Everyone had already started cheering by the time the fourth vote was read out, but Jeff quickly got through the next three to let the true celebration begin.

“In a unanimous vote, that makes Benjamin Drakken the winner of this season of Survivor!”

Toby had jumped up from his seat, meeting Drakken on the other side of the stage in a hug. Other followed, giving Ken his dues and getting their congratulations in for Drakken as well. The crowd applauded, and Jeff approached to give both finalists a hug.

Eda, of course, was waiting for him to be finished to gather the host in a hug, too. Which he accepted.

But it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.

“Drakken!” Jeff called over Eda’s shoulder, getting his attention. “Go on down stage, you mom’s here! Go give her a hug.”

Drakken started that way, but grabbed Toby’s sleeve to pull him along with him to go greet Ms. Lipsky where she had walked onto the stage. She was crying, and wrapped Drakken up into a hug while Toby stood, waiting. Drakken introduced them and Ms. Lipsky grabbed Toby by the face, pressing large kisses to his cheeks.

Jeff, who still had Eda’s arms around his middle, looked at the camera, “Join us for our reunion! Coming up next! This has been Survivor!”

#swynwrimo #i know i punked out here by only doing two episodes #no one is more disappointed than myself #but it was long already and i just couldnt look at it anymore lmfao

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Flixora Review – Earn from YouTube Without Ever Showing Your Face

Welcome to my Flixora Review, It is often not enough to have a really good video on platforms like YouTube, in today’s world especially it takes so much more for the channel to stand out. To capture the attention of the viewers we need to have flashy thumbnails, catchy titles and appealing videos. However, coming up with such aspects might be rather a time-consuming and difficult process the majority of users meeting it for the first time do not have a background in design or proper SEO knowledge. There comes Flixora, a cutting-edge AI-powered tool aimed to enhance the work of YouTubers in content creation. Even though the concept may sound a bit exaggerated, Flixora claims that it can create YouTube thumbnails, the video title that performs best in search engine results, and the video itself, all in one minute. Whether you are new to the world of content creation or a veteran using this platform, Flixora assures that our platform can and will save time, enhance the videos’ performance, and optimize the workflow.

In this review we will learn about some benefits, aspects of the functionality of Flixora to determine if it is really an all-in-one tool for YouTubers who want to save their time and receive more views. So, Don’t miss out on the opportunity to take your YouTube game to the next level with Flixora!

What Is Flixora?

Flixora is a cloud-based AI tool that generates thumbnails, popular titles, and videos for the user’s channel within a minute. Whether used by a startup owner who would like to make more projects or a YouTube channel owner who seeks to have more efficient ways of producing thumbnails, titles or brief content pieces, Flixora utilizes the AI feature to accomplish a lot of work. For this reason, a creator does not need to employ a talented graphic designer or several hours for editing videos which explains why it has become so important for both newbies, beginners as well as skilled and experienced YouTube content creators. It is also worth mentioning that Flixora has an analysis tool that helps customers track content content and, in addition, helps drive up engagement, views, as well as SEO for the YouTube search.

Flixora Overview

Product Creator: Daniel Adetunji

Product Name: Flixora

Launch Date: 2024-Sep-27

Launch Time: 11:00 EDT

Front-End Price: $17 (One-time payment)

Official Website: Click Here To Visit Official Salespage

Product Type: Tools And Software

Support: Effective Response

Recommended: Highly Recommended

Bonuses: YES, Huge Bonuses

Skill Level Required: All Levels

Discount Coupon: Use Code “Flixora5OFF” To Get $5 OFF!

Refund: YES, 30 Days Money-Back Guarantee

Flixora About Authors

Flixora was developed by Daniel Adetunji, an online marketer and software developer with a big customer base that actively utilizes and benefits from his products. He just made his presence known in the Warrior Plus marketplace and has received a lot of appreciation.

He has established a name via several launches, including PowerSites, CourseKit, DAX Builder, MintSuite, TubeGenius, VideoStudio, Email Man, AI Com, AI Titan, DAX AI, StockCity, SociLeadMessenger, SociClicks, SociOffer, Instant Video Sales Letters, and many more.

Key Features of Flixora

Convert Your Product URL into Engaging Videos in Seconds

Idea to video

Script to video

Blog to video

Visuals to video

Templates to video

Image background removal

Video Enhancer: Improved Video color balance, sharpness and clarity

Unlimited Top-Notch Videos for Your Product ShowCase

Idea to video

Script to video

Blog to video

Image Enhancer

Image Background Remover

Object Eraser

Video Background Remover

How Does Flixora Work?

You too can start your own Cash Cow Youtube channel and make it go viral like Mr. Beast to grab your own share of the $400 billion-year YouTube industry in just 3 easy steps.

Step #1: Login

Step #2: Select

Select Templates or Input Keywords, Ideas or Url and turn it to viral video

Step #3: Profit

Enjoy and profit from all your videos

>>> Click Here to Visit Flixora and Get Access Now <<<

Benefits of Atlas App

Brand New Al Tech “Flixora” automatically turn your ideas or keywords into eye-catching Al-generated viral thumbnails, titles and videos in less than 60 seconds

Say Goodbye to Paying Monthly to Canva, Adobe Spark, Snappa, Placeit, Visme & Adobe Express

Built-in Viral Video Generator: Generate Unlimited Engaging never seen before Viral Videos for Any Niche Using Al in Just Seconds

Built-in Viral Thumbnail Generator: Generate Unlimited eye-catching Viral thumbnails for all your videos easily with AI

Built-in Viral Video Titles Generator: Generate Unlimited Viral titles for all your videos At Lightning-Fast Speed

Al FaceSwap Integration: Swap any photo or face in a video with your own face or any face your prefer at ease

Generate viral thumbnails, titles & Videos from trending topic, keyword or ideas

Built-in Al Script to Video Generator: Turn script to videos At Lightning-Fast Speed

Built-in URL To Video Generator: Turn any URL to videos in seconds

Built-in Idea to Video Generator: Turn your ideas to Brand New Stunning never seen before engaging videos using AI

Built-in Blog to Video Creator: Transform blogs to video with Al in seconds

150+ Viral Video Template Included

Unlimited Viral thumbnails, captivating titles and engaging videos included

Built-in Photo to Video Generator: Turn your photos to videos At Lightning-Fast Speed

Built-in Al Photo Enhancer: Transform all your old Photos to stunning photos in seconds

Unlimited visual matching, Unlimited caption generator, Unlimited voice generator, Unlimited music matching, Unlimited video synthesis & Unlimited video synchronization

Built-in Product URL To Video Generator: Turn any product URL to videos At Ease using Al

Start Your Own Cash Cow YouTube Channel and Go Viral Without Any Tech Skills or Experience

100% Cloud Based. Nothing To Download or Install

Lifetime Access with No Recurring Monthly Payments

Commercial license included: Create & sell as many viral thumbnails, titles and videos as you want.

Newbie Friendly, Easy-To-Use Dashboard

Iron-clad 30-day money-back-guarantee

Verify Users Say About Flixora

Who Should Use Flixora?

Affiliate Marketers

Product Creators

Digital Marketers

Agencies Owners

Content Creators

eCom Store Owners

Blog Owners

CPA Marketers

Video Marketers

Artists

Personal Brands

Freelancers

Website Owners

And Many More

Flixora OTO’s And Pricing

Use Code “Flixora5OFF” for $5 Off (Full Funnel)

Front End Price: Flixora ($17)

OTO 1: Flixora Pro ($37 – $47)

OTO 2: Flixora Done For You ($97 – $197)

OTO 3: Flixora Agency ($67 – $97)

OTO 4: Flixora Daily Income ($27 – $37)

OTO 5: Flixora Traffic ($67 – $97)

OTO 6: Flixora Whitelabel & Source-Code ($197 – $497)

>>> Click Here to Visit Flixora and Get Access Now <<<

My Own Customized Exclusive VIP Bonus Bundle

***How To Claim These Bonuses***

Step #1:

Complete your purchase of the Flixora App: My Special Unique Bonus Bundle will be visible on your access page as an Affiliate Bonus Button on WarriorPlus immediately after purchase. And before ending my honest Flixora Review, I told you that I would give you my very own unique PFTSES formula for Free.

Step #2:

Send the proof of purchase to my e-mail “[email protected]” (Then I’ll manually Deliver it for you in 24 HOURS).

Flixora Free Premium Bonuses

Bonus #1: Flixora $1k A Day LIVE Masterclass (Worth $2997)

You get a VIP Ticket to our private LIVE online masterclass where we’ll reveal how we make $1,000/daily + Q&A to answer any of your questions LIVE.

Bonus #2: Flixora Commercial License (Worth $197)

Bonus #3: Flixora Step-By-Step, ”Over The Shoulder” Training Videos (Worth $497)

Bonus #4: Flixora SmartPhone Edition (Worth $997)

This will allow you to also operate Flixora right from your mobile phone, iPhone, Tablet, or Android.

Bonus #5: Flixora 1-1 Mentorship (Worth $2997)

You also get a FULL ONE MONTH, mentorship on implementing Flixora in your business and any possible query you might have about online marketing in general. We’ll personally attend to you 1 on 1. Simply let us know and our expert will reach out to you to give 1-1 mentoring.

Bonus #6: Flixora Built-In Traffic (Worth $997)

Do you want to sell services instead of using them? Flixora comes with a built-in client generator (Worth $997/mo)

Bonus #7: Flixora HighTicket (Worth $997)

Don’t know what to promote with Flixora? Make up to $997 for every sale you get with our DFY high ticket offers.

Bonus #8: Flixora 24/7 World Class Support Team (Worth $497)

Have any questions or need help? Don’t worry as our world class support team got you covered and ready to help you whenever, wherever you want.

Flixora Money Back Guarantee

Try Flixora at Zero-Risk 30 Day Unconditional 100% Money Back Guarantee

Our 100% Product Guarantee Covers You! After the first special launch time expires, Flixora will shortly be available for purchase as a monthly or yearly subscription. You may get it for a cheap one-time purchase right now if you act quickly. Therefore, order Flixora without delay. You save more money the sooner you make your purchase. Moreover, my 30-day money-back guarantee under the name “Steal My Product” applies to you. Nothing is at stake for you. I bear all the risk. You have complete coverage. You will regret missing this chance, so don’t let it pass you by. The finest, quickest, and most straightforward method to make large sums of money online with little work and no risk is with Flixora. You can be certain that nothing will change if you do nothing. Time and money wasted on ineffective items will still occur. You’ll be stranded, looking for a way out and hoping to earn some money online at last. Thus, avoid having it happen to you. Don’t regret purchasing Flixora at a premium price—or, even worse, don’t regret waiting for it to go out of stock. So hurry and get your copy!

>>> Click Here to Visit Flixora and Get Access Now <<<

Flixora Pros and Cons

Pros:

Time-saving: Generates content in under 60 seconds.

AI-driven: Uses data to optimize content for virality and engagement.

User-friendly: Easy-to-use interface with no prior experience needed.

Customizable: Allows for manual edits on thumbnails, titles, and videos.

Affordable: Provides a budget-friendly solution for creators.

Cons:

You need internet for using this product.

No issues reported, it works perfectly!

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ’s)

Q. Do I need to download anything to use Flixora?

No. Flixora is completely cloud-based. Just Login from anywhere in the world with an internet connection and use it.

Q. Do we have to pay a monthly subscription fee to access Flixora?

Right now… NO! But after this special offer ends, new users will have to pay a monthly fee to access Flixora that they can currently get at a ONE-TIME cost.

Q. What are the minimum experience and skills required to use Flixora?

You don’t have to be a top marketer or a technical genius to create your Own viral thumbnails, irresistible video titles and Engaging Videos! Flixora is 100% beginner-friendly. Our automated software does everything for you While You simply profit!

Q. Can you guarantee that I will make money with Flixora

Even though it’s illegal to promise results, based on our records, most of our users make their first profits just within the first hour of getting Flixora

Q. What happens if I don’t see results?

We’ve got you covered… If you don’t make money with Flixora, just let us know within the next 30 days and we’ll refund you every penny.

Q. This Compatible On Both PC, Mac, Android And iOS?

Yes It works on any device.

Q. Is training & support included?

Yes. When you buy Flixora today, you can easily access our step-by-step training resources. Our technical experts are available for you 24/7 for any queries that you may have.

Flixora Final Verdict

In conclusion, Flixora self-entitles itself as a YouTube content creators platform and therefore is a perfect solution to all of them. It has many features and one of them that can generate thumbnails, titles, and videos that go viral in one minute. This tool is easy to use and because it has an element of Artificial Intelligence in it, everyone should have this tool in their arsenal when trying to gain traction on YouTube. Despite the fact that Flixora lacks some flexibility in terms of interface customization, its convenience and integration with SEO tools successfully compensate for it; in addition, Flixora turns into a promising investment for both, content generators and marketers. Nevertheless, if you strive to gain impressive results and have little time for this activity, you can definitely do that using Flixora advantages.

>>> Click Here to Visit Flixora and Get Access Now <<<

Check Out My Previous Reviews: Atlas App Review, CalendarPal AI Review, KinderBooks AI Review, CLICK n’BANK AI Review, MusicPal Review, and Traffit Review.

Thank for reading my Flixora Review till the end. Hope it will help you to make purchase decision perfectly.

Disclaimer: This review is based on available information and user experiences. Individual results may vary. It’s recommended to conduct thorough research and due diligence before making any investment decisions.

Note: This is a paid software, and the one-time price is $17 .

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daimonclub · 1 year ago

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Thoughts, ideas and reflections on food

Food pyramid Thoughts, ideas and reflections on food. A text with some good opinions and meditations on food, the art of eating well and useful links to various resources on the topic. An anonymous man from the 16th century always used to say: "There are many important things in life, the first is eating, I don't know the others." Evidently the food and sexual isotopy seems clearly obvious to me, but perhaps not even that much. Carl William Brown A special memory is then obligatory for the great Pellegrino Artusi (1820-1911) who was the author of the famous Italian cookbook "The science of cooking and the art of eating well". Artusi was born in Forlimpopoli, a town near Forlì, and made his fortune as a silk trader, but after retiring he dedicated himself to fine cuisine. Artusi was the first to include recipes from all the different regions of Italy in a single recipe book. He is often credited with having established a truly national Italian cuisine for the first time. Even today his main literary work has a large number of editions and widespread diffusion. The text collects 790 recipes, from broths to liqueurs, through soups, appetizers (or starters), second courses and desserts. The approach is didactic, the receipts are followed by reflections and anecdotes from the author, who writes with a witty style. The science of cooking and the art of eating well constituted a real borderline in the gastronomic culture of the time. Carl William Brown School is made to get a diploma. And the diploma? The diploma is made to get the job. And the place? The place is made to make money. And earn? It is made for eating. Eating cannot be an end in itself, that is, an ideal. Except in those whose aim is drinking. Giuseppe Prezzolini If you don't have the ambition to become a canopy chef, I don't think it's necessary to succeed, to be born with a saucepan in your head, all you need is passion, a lot of attention and precise training: then always choose the finest stuff for raw materials, that this will make you look. Pellegrino Artusi Roast Beef, medium, is not only a food. It is a philosophy. Seated at Life's Dining Table, with the menu of Morals before you, your eye wanders a bit over the entrees, the hors d'oeuvres, and the things a la though you know that Roast Beef, medium, is safe and sane, and sure. Edna Ferber

Reflections on food In a system, as the level of organization of the structure increases, the elements that compose it lose the capacity for individual projects, precisely because they find themselves inserted in an integrated system that moves with other logics. This means that the structure becomes something different than the sum of its individual components. And so all of us poor men are nothing but food for worms. Carl William Brown That food has always been, and will continue to be, the basis for one of our greater snobbism does not explain the fact that the attitude toward the food choice of others is becoming more and more heatedly exclusive until it may well turn into one of those forms of bigotry against which gallant little committees are constantly planning campaigns in the cause of justice and decency. Cornelia Otis Skinner Food is "everyday"- it has to be, or we would not survive for long. But food is never just something to eat. It is something to find or hunt or cultivate first of all; for most of human history we have spent a much longer portion of our lives worrying about food, and plotting, working, and fighting to obtain it, than we have in any other pursuit. As soon as we can count on a food supply (and so take food for granted), and not a moment sooner, we start to civilize ourselves. Margaret Visser Sadder than destitution, sadder than a beggar is the man who eats alone in public. Nothing more contradicts the laws of man or beast, for animals always do each other the honor of sharing or disputing each other's food. Jean Baudrillard In a world where even life is worth nothing, it is pathetic to see that there are people who, for profit, still believe and hope in the increasingly cleansing power of a soap or in the shine that a shampoo can give. It so happens that in the face of the benefits promised by anti-cellulite creams or the non-existent taste of disgusting frozen food, even the worst crime becomes an act of healthy and genuine vindictive justice. Carl William Brown Taking food alone tends to make one hard and coarse. Those accustomed to it must lead a Spartan life if they are not to go downhill. Hermits have observed, if for only this reason, a frugal diet. For it is only in company that eating is done justice; food must be divided and distributed if it is to be well received. Walter Benjamin

Thoughts and opinions on food We need a quarter of the food we eat to live, the rest is used to fatten industrialists, advertisers, doctors and undertakers. (obviously for those dying of hunger the situation changes.) Carl William Brown Clearly, some time ago makers and consumers of American junk food passed jointly through some kind of sensibility barrier in the endless quest for new taste sensations. Now they are a little like those desperate junkies who have tried every known drug and are finally reduced to mainlining toilet bowl cleanser in an effort to get still higher. Bill Bryson I love simple food. I like to serve the entire animal, not only because it somehow provokes a customer to think about it, but also because to honor of the animal that has been killed for us to eat, you have to eat the whole thing. It would be silly to just eat the chops and throw everything else away. Mario Batali It has been an unchallengeable American doctrine that cranberry sauce, a pink goo with overtones of sugared tomatoes, is a delectable necessity of the Thanksgiving board and that turkey is uneatable without it. There are some things in every country that you must be born to endure; and another hundred years of general satisfaction with Americans and America could not reconcile this expatriate to cranberry sauce, peanut butter, and drum majorettes. Alistair Cooke In his modest proposal, in order to eliminate the problems of the poor Irish, Swift suggested cooking their children, which in this way, in addition to relieving them of expensive maintenance, would at the same time provide delicious food for the rich. It is obvious that over time and in the event of severe famines, the recipe could also be extended to adolescents and not just Irish ones. Carl William Brown Upscale people are fixated with food simply because they are now able to eat so much of it without getting fat, and the reason they don't get fat is that they maintain a profligate level of calorie expenditure. The very same people whose evenings begin with melted goat's cheese...get up at dawn to run, break for a mid-morning aerobics class, and watch the evening news while racing on a stationary bicycle. Barbara Ehrenreich Between the desire for food and the lust for power there is a strange isotopy; it's true that appetite comes with eating, but then at least you get satisfied, whereas those who start chewing on power never get satisfied and in the end inevitably suffer from indigestion, thus spewing out a lot of rubbish and cruelty. Carl William Brown Once you become an elaborate and well-developed culture, anything from Rome or the Etruscans, for that matter, the food starts to become a representation of what the culture is. When the food can transcend being just fuel, that's when you start to see these different permutations. Mario Batali

A good Italian recipe Food probably has a very great influence on the condition of men. Wine exercises a more visible influence, food does it more slowly but perhaps just as surely. Who knows if a well-prepared soup was not responsible for the pneumatic pump or a poor one for a war? Georg C. Lichtenberg Hors d'oeuvres have always a pathetic interest for me; they remind me of one's childhood that one goes through wondering what the next course is going to be like - and during the rest of the menu one wishes one had eaten more of the hors d'oeuvres. Hector Hugh Munro Television, or rather the "stupid box" as some have defined it, knows very well that whoever endures wins and that is why it persists in its proselytizing work; he practically wants to convert everyone to his verb, to the verb of imbecility. Television knows very well that it has enormous power, to which ordinary man must succumb. For these reasons, the spectator is continually bombarded and therefore conditioned by (Pavlov teaches) a flood of alluring advice, by fantastic or atrocious news, by enormous political and theatrical deceptions, as well as by splendid and bewitching images. Television fulfills his mission perfectly, which is to prepare food for power. Carl William Brown Avoid fresh meats, which angry up the blood. If your stomach disputes you, lie down and pacify it with cool thoughts. Keep the juices flowing by jangling around gently as you move. Go very light in the vices such as carrying on in society. The social ramble ain't restful. Don't look back. Someone might be gaining on you. Leroy Satchel Paige It is the mark of a mean, vulgar and ignoble spirit to dwell on the thought of food before meal times or worse to dwell on it afterwards, to discuss it and wallow in the remembered pleasures of every mouthful. Those whose minds dwell before dinner on the spit, and after on the dishes, are fit only to be scullions. St. Francis De Sales Find out more visiting these links: Good food for your diet (With Videos) Vegetarian food diets (With Videos) Quotes and aphorisms on food Aforismi e citazioni sul cibo International and Italian recipes Enogastronomia e turismo Italian recipes, fashion and travels https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/collection/easy https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes http://allrecipes.com/recipes/1947/everyday-cooking/quick-and-easy/ http://www.sjana.com/blogs/lifestyle/food-for-the-soul Cooking traditions in Lombardy, Italy Read the full article

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n1kolaiz · 3 years ago

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The Six Realms

Okay, so I was pretty close to giving up on writing analyses but I'm back LMFAO plus I see we're close to 100 followers and I just want to thank you guys for being so very supportive <3

Alright, I'm not sure if anyone's ever written about this, but if an analysis like this exists, please do let me know because I'm kind of curious as to what other people think about this, too!

Remember that time Fukuchi spoke about bringing "about the five signs of an angel's death"?

I read a little bit more about it, and as a minor content warning: this analysis will focus on a few religious aspects (Buddhism + Hinduism). So if I get any of the facts wrong, firstly: I do not mean any disrespect to either religion, and secondly: please do correct me if I interpret anything in the wrong way.

Spoilers for BSD chapter 90 onwards + BEAST!AU under the cut!

So I'll start by talking about the Decay of Angels. As we all know, the members include Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Sigma, and Bram Stoker, and their leader, Fukuchi Ochi. After Fyodor's arrest, the Decay of Angels came into light with Nikolai murdering four government officials in a week. These murders symbolise the Buddhist cycle of existence, or otherwise known as samsara: the cycle of life, death, and rebirth.

"We are the Decay of Angels—hiding here as terrorists, a 'murder association', five people who will announce the demise of the celestial world."

Nikolai Gogol, chapter 57

Samsara is described to be a concept beyond human understanding. According to Hinduism, samsara is the physical world where every being has its soul trapped into a physical vessel. The Hindus believe that everything has a soul, and due to a soul's attachment to desire, it is forced into a deathless cycle of being born, dying, and reincarnating into a different body. In Buddhism, the ultimate way to break free from this cycle is by obtaining nirvana.

Nirvana is a Sanskrit word for the goal of the Buddhist path: enlightenment or awakening. In Pali, the language of some of the earliest Buddhist texts, the word is nibbana; in both languages it means "extinction" (like a lamp or flame) or "cessation." It refers to the extinction of greed, ill will, and delusion in the mind, the three poisons that perpetuate suffering. Nirvana is what the Buddha achieved on the night of his enlightenment: he became completely free from the three poisons. Everything he taught for the rest of his life was aimed at helping others to arrive at that same freedom.

- TRICYCLE'S definition of nirvana

As Fukuchi mentions in the panel above, there are six different realms of existence. These realms represent every possible state of existence, but one cannot live in a specific realm forever. Depending on whether or not one's past actions were morally good or bad, an individual is born into one of these realms. Basically, the controlling factor of which realm a person is born into is dependent on their respective karma. The realms are separated into two categories: the hellish ones and the heavenly ones.

The Deva Realm: where beings are rewarded for the good deeds they have done. This realm is void of anything unpleasant. It is basically paradise— empty of unfulfilled desires, any form of suffering, and fears of every kind. Religious individuals, however, do not seek to be born into this realm since its attitude is more or less carefree.

The Asura Realm: where demigods are admitted. Asuras are driven by greed and envy, and may come in conflict with human beings since they are quite similar. They are powerful beings, but quarrel with each other quite a bit, making this realm quite undesirable to be reborn into.

The Animal Realm: where beings are given the form of an animal (you probably guessed that lol). Individuals here don't actually have good karma to take pride in, but rather, they are born into this realm to work off their bad karma (by being slaughtered, hunted, or forced to work, etc). Being born into this realm forces one to atone for their past sins by living out their life as an animal.

The Hell Realm: where one is punished for their evil actions. The most merciless of realms, where one pays for their transgressions through pure suffering, methods of which include: dismemberment, starvation, and psychological/physical torture. However, once a person's term is fulfilled in this realm, they are presumably promised to be reborn into a higher state.

The Preta Realm: similar to the hell realm, in which beings pay for their past sins (specifically: greed and stinginess) by having to survive through hunger and thirst. This realm is also known as the 'ghost realm,' because some pretas are psychologically tortured by being forced to live in places their past selves have lived in. They are invisible to human beings living at that time, which pushes them to face the depths of despair and loneliness. Your typical horror movie, really.

The Human Realm: the only realm where one's actions determine their future. The status (social ranking, physical wellbeing, and so on) of a human being in this realm is determined by their past actions, but due to the fact that a person has their own conscience to differentiate good morals from bad, the actions they commit in this realm have the power to determine which realm they are sent to next.

Okay, so now that I've got that out of the way, let's shift our focus to the Book. Very little is known about the Book, but the basic fundamentals of how it works is that whatever is written in the book will come into existence only if its contents follow the rules of karma. In addition to that, only a few sentences can be written into a single page of the Book, and it must follow the current narrative of the story.

If I'm not wrong, the first time the Book was mentioned was by Fitzgerald, who wanted it to resurrect his deceased daughter in hopes of restoring his wife's mental health. The next time the Book is brought up is when Fyodor's intentions to possess it are divulged; his goal was to decimate the global population of ability-users. And now, the current arc has the Book as its central focus, with a single page in Fukuchi's possession.

[ BEAST!AU spoilers ]

The Book acts as the central point of multiverses, with each character's lives differing from universe to universe.

Dazai committing suicide in this alternate universe stands in sharp contrast with how he decided to start up a new life in the main universe.

Oda staying alive to act as a mentor to Akutagawa in the ADA differs from how Oda uses his death to prompt Dazai to "be on the side that saves people."

And of course, the way Atsushi and Akutagawa have their positions switched in the two universes depicts how different their lives would be if they were given the chance to be mentored by different people— these are just a few examples of how the Book houses an endless amount of possibilities.

[ end of BEAST!AU spoilers ]

Hypothetically speaking, this kind of reminds me of the differing realms I mentioned before, where suffering is promised in some realms, and better things are granted in the rest, depending on one's karma, or the deeds they've done in their past lives. In this scenario, perhaps one's past life can be understood as one's current life in a different universe. That's just a personal opinion though. Take it as you will.

side note: Keep in mind that the person who is more or less impervious to the Book's effect is Dazai, with his nullification ability. I wouldn't want to propose any theories in this aspect (I don't believe I'm fully fact-checked ;_;), but I could use Dazai as a raw example of how your choices affect your future. If Dazai had decided to stay in the Port Mafia after Oda's death, or if he even decided to go through with his suicidal fixations, life would've been different for him in the root universe (obviously, ryley) I mean, you could basically understand that from how he ended up in the BEAST au, but imagine if he really did slip up in his decision-making in any of the universes.

Many analysts have proposed that he went MIA (early in his life) from the main universe for a while to figure out how the BEAST universe worked, whilst having the Book to his advantage. Perhaps his actions were guided? I'm not saying he's all-knowing, but he's sure as hell smart. I'm not sure if Kafka was trying to highlight the concept of karma when it comes to Dazai, but if he is, then I suppose you could say that Dazai is pretty much unaffected by the rules of karma, existing as the centerpiece of all the multiverses. No Longer Human is the namesake of his ability, but the book talks about disqualification from societal norms and generally, the world. I was talking about it with a friend, and they reminded me that Yozo (the main protagonist) was pretty strong in his views against society. Like he didn't speak out of total defeat, he spoke out of defense. If there was anything Dazai actually lost to, it was his guilt— "Living itself is a source of sin."

Then again, that's my personal interpretation since everyone has their unique perspective of his writings. In terms of the actual adaptation, you could translate the word 'disqualification' to 'insusceptibilty' when if it came to the Book's effects on Dazai? This side note is becoming really long lmao anyways I'll link a few theories which afflicted me with brainrot down below.

Another thing before I wrap up, the name 'Decay of Angels' stemmed from Yukio Mishima's book entitled 'The Decay of An Angel.' This is the final novel to the author's tetralogy: 'The Sea of Fertility.' The main protagonist, Honda, meets a person he believes to be a reincarnation of his friend, Kiyoaki, who takes the form of a young teenage boy named Tōru. The last novel of this series enhances Mishima's dominant themes of the series as a whole:

the decay of courtly tradition in Japan

the essence and value of Buddhist philosophy and aesthetics

Mishima’s apocalyptic vision of the modern era

Again, this could be referred to what Fukuchi goes on to say:

Some people view the concept of samsara optimistically, justifying it by saying that perhaps each individual is given a second (third, fourth, fifth, who knows) chance to refine their actions in order to be birthed into a better realm, with their karma being the independent variable.

On the other hand, other people, specifically the Hindus, view the cycle of existence as some sort of plague. To them, the flow of life and being forced to endure the suffering of mere existence in any form was somewhat frowned down upon. Some Hindus viewed samsara as a trap. Besides, having one's soul being limited to a physical body for the rest of eternity was not very appealing, especially since where they ended up at depended on the karmic value their past actions surmounted.

Even so, particular types of Buddhists don't seek nirvana, but instead, like the Hindus, they make an effort to be good people of society, building up their good deeds to increase the likelihood of being reborn into one of the better realms.

As mentioned before, the Deva Realm was the home of angels, the most carefree, gratified beings to exist. Fukuchi describes these angels as the people who don't get their hands dirty, the people who act as the puppeteers of society: politicians.

In terms of parallels, angels were the most fortunate and powerful, but they didn't have anyone ruling over them. A lack of supervision would lead to the abuse of power, which is what I believe Fukuchi was referring to. Deeming himself the Decay of Angels, he sought to prove himself as the 'sign of death that falls on the nation's greed.'

A few fun facts (okay, not really) about Yukio Mishima: he committed seppuku (ritual suicide by disembowelment) on the day he held a speech to voice out his unpopular political beliefs to the public. Mishima deeply treasured traditions and opposed the modern mindset the nation was advancing forward to adapt eventually. In his last book, The Decay of an Angel, he spoke about the five signs which complete the death of an angel:

Here are the five greater signs: the once-immaculate robes are soiled, the flowers in the flowery crown fade and fall, sweat pours from the armpits, a fetid stench envelops the body, the angel is no longer happy in its proper place.

The Decay of an Angel, p.53

The reviews about this series I've read so far describe Mishima's works to be quite complex; his writings demanded a lot of time to deconstruct and understand. They were highly symbolic, and he was pretty obsessed with death and the 'spiritual barrenness of the modern world.' I think you could attach a few strings from here to the mindsets of the DOA members. Of course, this parallel is completely abstract, but I'll go on rambling anyway:

He should have armed them with the foreknowledge that would keep them from flinging themselves after their destinies, take away their wings, keep them from soaring, make them march in step with the crowd. The world does not approve of flying. Wings are dangerous weapons. They invite self-destruction before they can be used. If he had brought Isao to terms with the fools, then he could have pretended that he knew nothing of wings.

The Decay of an Angel, p.113

I suppose you could resonate Nikolai with that excerpt. As much as Fukuchi takes the lead in this whole murder association, I'd like to believe that each member of the DOA plays an equally interesting part in whatever movement they're trying to execute. Fyodor feels it is his god-sent purpose to cleanse the world of its sins, his motto being, "Let the hand of God guide you." Sigma doesn't know where he belongs, since his origination comes from a page in the Book, and is fueled by the desperation to find a reason to live. Bram holds one of the most powerful abilities which is counted to be one of the "Top Ten Calamities to Destroy the World."

What I mean to say is that the DOA members are incredibly powerful, and they're not your ordinary antagonists (or I'm just biased). It's not just overthrowing authorities, mass genocide, and world domination— you could say that each individual is trying to utilize their purposes to their fullest expenditures, and the way they're trying to assert their plan into action is a little more passive-aggressive (framing the Agency, having a convo with a suicidal dude in jail, etc). They're the gray area between evil and good. As they framed the good guys for their own crimes, they're trying to conquer the bad guys for exploiting the innocent as they please.

This post would definitely age well if all hell breaks loose in the current arc (as if it didn't) and Kafka doesn't give us a happy ending.

That's all I have to say for now I guess! Thank you for reading, and once again, if anyone else something they wanna share, feel free to do so <3

sources (tryna follow Q's example ^_^) :

the six realms

samsara

the decay of angels

beast!au

the book

the sea of fertility

yukio mishima

theory: dazai’s emotional/mental state in beast!au

q’s theory: dazai being the protector of the book

theory: beast!dazai and the book

218 notes · View notes

deluluass · 3 years ago

Text

Attention

Since requests are open again, can i request a yan!bokuto developing a crush with one of the other teams' managers during their training camp? 👀

for: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa. hi bestie 😔 this is late (again), but i hope u like it 😍

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; underage drinking; (slight) sub!Bokuto👀; mild footplay

Three minutes.

Three minutes and forty-five seconds, to be exact, before the truth came for you like a ball careening towards your blindside:

You’re not supposed to be here .

Granted, the thought had already slinked its way into your brain ever since you’d overheard the coach crying on his phone, his wife on the other side of the line, that if he hadn't groveled and appealed to his college friend’s sense of honor, as he’d sniffled, they wouldn’t have even considered the team ( your team) to be worthy of receiving an invitation to this training camp.

Ignoring the worries that came after that was supposed to be easy. It shouldn’t have come at all . It’s irrational and it doesn’t help anyone. What was the point in fretting? Your boys are more than deserving— more than capable in fact —of going toe to toe with some of Tokyo’s best.

It’s also a given that those people don’t know anything about your team. You do live in a town half a day’s ride away from the capital. And how could you expect city folk to recognize a team that hails from a place where the cows outnumber the people three to one?

They’re bound to not know.

But the needless unease stayed and soon took a life of its own, the weight of it becoming heavier and heavier over the course of the weeks that you waited for that dreaded day, like a hungry beast that you diligently fed with your little what-if’s.

What if that place eats us alive?

What if they make fun of us?

What if, despite trying our hardest, all we do is lose?

What if these people take a single look at us and think that we’re not good enough?

What if they’re right?

The deep chasm on the scoreboard tells you exactly that, plain and without a hint of artifice.

Shinzen High has already scored five points.

Your team is still stuck at zero.

And the clock continues to tick.

“Chance ball!”

Your captain's voice was feeble against the noise of the ball being passed from one hand to another.

Odd, that.

Itsuki's not the type to pull his punches. Especially in the middle of a game; always one to use his entire chest when launching back at his enemies with a guttural roar.

You looked at the players standing on your side of the court— really looked at them, in a way that you should have instead of wasting your time entertaining those doubts— and found nary a trace of your teammates among those too-stiff, too-quiet boys that bore an uncanny resemblance to a bunch of rabbits caught in the headlights.

A chuckle erupted from your chest, surprising even you.

"Something funny?" the coach asked, his glance turning wary when you convulsed in a fit of shrill giggles.

"Yeah," you told him, shaking your head. “There is, Coach.”

From the bored expressions on your opponents’ faces to Shigeru’s (failed) attempt to set for Koyama, all the way to an audience that wasn’t even looking, who were, frankly, much more interested in what's on their phones than what’s in front of them.

How can you not find this funny?

You were worried about... this ?

You sighed, your head the clearest that it’s ever been in a long while, and stood from your seat on the bench.

The coach called out your name in a harsh whisper. You ignored him, not even bothering to explain yourself. After all, you’ve already spent too much of your energy on the wrong things.

And so, in the most polite way that you could, you shouted:

“Hey! What the fuck is this!”

Everyone might've gawked; the coach may have pulled you back to the bench with a strength that you didn’t know he possessed. There’s something much more important than being respectable, though.

“None of us ever cared about what these assholes think!” you pressed on, staring down at Takami, whose dad never fails to remind him that he’ll waste away his life fooling around with that useless club . “So, why,” you ask with a clear voice, “Why are we starting now?!”

Of course, just like any of your spur of the moment ideas, that hadn’t ended the way you hoped it would.

They still lost (they also did in the following game). All of the coaches (including yours and excluding the one from Nekoma High; that one just patted your back) had expressed their disapproval over what you did. You couldn’t regret it, however, no matter how humiliating their rebukes made you feel.

Because you don’t think you’ve seen any of your teammates look the least bit happy since you set foot into this place. But, now— even with the fact that all they've achieved so far is keep the floors clean with their diving laps— now, they do.

With that, it seems to you then that this place isn’t so bad, after all.

A day.

A day and ten hours, approximately, had already passed when Bokuto felt your presence acutely like the stinging red imprint a hurtled ball leaves on his skin. And just like the circumstances that lead to that bloodied, angry marking, you made your existence known with just as much force as a player spiking for the kill.

Some of them guffawed, out of disbelief and sheer delight both, because in all the years that they’ve trained together in preparation for the interhigh, they don’t think anyone has ever called them a bunch of “assholes” before.

They didn’t think much about that new team that arrived too late. So, yeah, Bokuto wanted to laugh, too, just like others. ‘ What a way to make an impression, huh?’ he wanted to say.

That wasn’t what he said, though.

Bokuto wasn’t even able to say anything.

He was too busy staring at your mouth, the resoluteness in your lips as if you knew exactly what to say; the way you looked at your teammates, like there was nobody else more astounding, more unbeatable at this game than the boys before you (though, surely, even you can see that they’re far from being any of those things).

And yet, there you were, your eyes incandescent; they might as well have been on fire, blazing with so much awe and unshakable faith and it was so clear for everyone to witness and— and Bokuto did not know what to do with it.

It was so embarrassing, truth be told. Bokuto may not be the most secretive guy around, but when the others eventually pointed out that he looked scared at the thought of facing them ( you ), he just couldn’t help but sulk.

“We’re not half the cheerleader she is, Bokuto-san,” Yukie teased him, patting his shoulder as she did, “but rest easy, we’ll try our best to boost morale.”

He just groaned, immediately locking his legs at a stand still when the others hooted, ‘Look at him! He looks like he’s about to piss himself bouncing his legs like that . ’ Really, what was he supposed to say?

Because, when he finally faced your team with that net in between and as he felt the ball against his palms when he aimed for a clean hit towards the floor, it’s not even fear that rushes through him.

Not even close.

Beyond the defeated faces, of the exhaustion slathered all over your team’s barks after each point he snatched under their noses, Bokuto saw you looking at him.

Just a flicker; a passing peek before that determined gaze settled back on the others. But it was there all the same: the pause in your breath as the ball detonated against your teammate’s frail arms, clutching the edge of the bench with your fingers as if it took everything in you to keep yourself from running towards the court.

To rush towards him.

To— to what ? Exactly? To scream at his face the same way you did earlier? That he's going too rough and hurting your precious friends?

There’s a part of him that wishes to stop. A strange, alien feeling that he supposes comes from the discomfort at the sight of you so troubled and wound up.

Oh, but you're just starting to understand!

That if there's someone who's truly astounding, unbeatable, and staggeringly brilliant at this game, it's him . And Bokuto wanted to drive that point home like he's never wanted anything else in his entire life.

His body stopped feeling like his own by the second set.

His legs were too light to be his, like there were coil springs underneath his feet that carried him higher and higher he swore he could brush the roof with his fingertips.

There’s a thrumming in his flesh that propelled Bokuto to move faster, to push that ache over the edge until there’s nothing left but the breathless exhilaration of seeing his opponents kiss the ground.

The air is getting thinner, like he’s scaling towards a mountain top as he sprints towards the other side of the court, long strides eating up the floor, uncaring for the sweat pouring down his cheeks.

Bokuto was willing to let this thing go on forever and ever and ever , for as long as he feels the searing heat of your eyes on him.

Until he turned his head in your direction.

You were smiling at something a spectator said.

He couldn’t hear it, but whatever it was it had pushed you to make a teasing remark to your team.

A banter ensued.

The referee blew his whistle as a warning.

You giggled.

Why?

“The ball, Bokuto!”

Why aren’t you looking?

His hands were two weights keeping him down, made heavier by that sinking sensation in his chest.

When did you stop looking?

It was too much, too unbearable that he could cry. The indifferent way you'd removed him from your line of sight was a sucker punch that's not as painful as the shame it leaves him with.

Were you even looking at all?

And he wonders with a shuddering exhale as he finally gathered the strength to raise an arm, Bokuto wonders what would happen if, just this once, he shot the ball towards y—

“Bokuto-san.”

Akaashi was calling out to him.

“Bokuto-san, we already won."

The ball within his grasp dropped.

Bokuto watched it bounce on the floor until it rolled over to somebody else's waiting palm.

He took a deep breath— in and then out, repeated it until everything came into sharp focus —and raised his head to squint at the scoreboard.

22-3

So they did.

The other side of the court was already empty, your team assembled to one corner; you were out of sight.

Everyone started to gather around him.

They took Bokuto along with their cheers and reprimands and accusations, like a strong current that carried him from the bench to the shower room, laughing as they handed him a towel, having noticed that he’d been too out of it to do anything else but stay half-naked in front of the sink.

“Are you alright, Bokuto-san?” he heard Akaashi ask over the teeming excitement surrounding them.

Blinking, Bokuto paused from wiping his bare torso as he replied, “Me?”

Their setter only nodded.

“Yeah!” Bokuto exclaimed, a tad louder than he ought to. “Yeah, dude! Of course! Never been better!”

“You were a man possessed," Masaki, still fresh from the shower, suddenly drawled from behind him.

“You were... quiet,” Ubugawa’s captain continued, reaching for the toothpaste laid next to Akaashi. “It was unlike you.”

Bokuto was about to say something, somewhere along the lines of “Really? I didn’t notice” when Daiki made his decision to wring the wet shirt in his hand, brandish it like a belt, and strike Bokuto’s back with it, the impact cutting across the room.

“You little..!” Bokuto turned with a snarl, poised and ready to throw the boy over his shoulder.

“Let it go, let it go,” Daiki chortled, grabbing Bokuto by his damp hair. “That’s for not giving us a warning, alright? Crazy bastard.”

Daiki shook his head as he walked away. “Never seen the idiot go hard like that,” he mumbled.

“That’s our ace for ‘ya!” Haruki echoed from his cubicle, to which the others responded with wolfish howls and sharp whistles, completely transforming the shower room into a tiled rainforest.

And Bokuto wanted to join along, because although the game still felt like an abrupt, fever dream, he’s well aware that he did something that he’s going to be proud of in the days to come. But somehow— for some unknown, beguiling reason, all he could do was stand there and make himself vulnerable to Kuroo’s antics.

The Nekoma captain looked at Bokuto through the mirror, clicking his tongue before lamenting about “ those poor country boys ” and their “ ill luck ”.

“Go easy on us small fries sometimes,” he added. “You were pretty scary back there.”

Kuroo gave his nape a quick pat before he went for the lockers, leaving Bokuto to stare at his reflection, features obscured by the fog.

Scary , he said.

Scary, huh.

A man possessed.

Bokuto wonders about its meaning, what coach had meant earlier when he’d jokingly called him a beast. He contemplated what about him had led them to think that way, tried his best to be perceptible of any changes.

His eyes were the same, although the pupils in the middle were large pools of tar, widened and leaving only the slightest space for the honeyed rim.

His hair was the same platinum color and still streaked with the same black lines, although untamed and in a disarray this time, with the strands sticking to his forehead.

Although flushed, his face was the same, over all.

Everything seems to be right where they’re supposed to be.

Although he’s huffing and puffing, creating more mist to cloud the mirror with. And when he tried to reach for the glass, he realized that his fingers were still trembling. His blood still surging as if his body had never left the court.

Then, it struck him.

Bokuto holds his breath in anticipation, the truth of it right in front of him.

There’s no monster here.

No man possessed either.

Only a guy who’s helplessly, foolishly in love.

Announcing to an entire room of strangers that one is of the opinion that they're assholes, as it happened, was an effective way of making new friends.

Of course, there was that awkward day-long explanation that you had to do for Yuki and Kaori and the others. An affair that wasn’t too different from a one-woman press conference that involved you expressing your regrets, revealing that, sometimes, when backed against a wall, you can be an impulsive clown with a glaring lack of filter (like: "No, no..! I didn't think you guys were actually- you know- ass- it just spilled-" and "Ah, geez, this is embarrassing.The heat was getting to me. I didn't mean it, really!" )

But the girls had been kind enough to let bygones be bygones, assuring you that all they ever felt was a joyous combination of relief and wonder. Ubugawa's manager, Eri, (who'd shook your hand while holding back tears) even told you that seeing another girl in a veritable sausage fest that is the training camp was a miracle in itself.

"It was fun, actually," Mako once said when the two of you were assigned to carrot chopping duty. "You gave us something to talk about for a while."

And even when the novelty of being a bumpkin with the mouth of a sailor soon faded, the bond that quickly bloomed between you and the other managers hadn't.

It was unexpected, although not unwelcome.

You couldn't help but laugh at yourself. How silly you'd been: coming into the city expecting a den of wolves and hunters armed to the teeth.

In the span of two days thoughts of survival were replaced by the confidence that your boys would pull through; by a sense of ease that you didn't need to win all the time and that this place is not a battlefield, but a fertile ground for growth and learning. You didn't need to constantly be on your guard— knuckles up and gearing for a fight, you realized.

Well —

For the most part, at least.

Serving spoon in one hand and potholder in another, you reluctantly paused from preparing your team’s meal to whisper under your breath. "He's doing it again," you hissed.

Kaori only gave you a preoccupied “hm?” as she plucked the ladle to fill the plain white ceramic bowls before her. “Who is?” she continued.

“Your captain,” you replied, taking care not to let him know that you're on the verge of melting under his not so subtle scrutiny.

The lovely Fukurodani manager didn’t even miss a beat; without lifting her eyes away from the food, she raised her voice, just loud enough, to address the creature (spying) standing idly by the door.

“Say, Bo-kun,” Kaori called out and you watched, amazed, as he coughed out the water that he’s been making a great show of drinking. “Your mama must not have taught you that it's bad to ogle.”

Bokuto Kotaro, Fukurodani’s ace and captain— a volleyball player that sits atop everybody else in this training camp, whose name is almost always followed by “one of the very best in the country”— quailed as his manager, the Great Kaori Suzumeda, blessed him with a smile veering on beatific.

“Oh-who-me?” he prattled, hands pointing at everything and nothing as he choked on his own words. “Didn’t see you there! What’s up! I was just passing by!”

“In the middle of practice?” Kaori snickered. “ You ?”

The boy released a laughter that resonated in the empty cafeteria.

She sighed, dropping the ladle, and told him to “Just go, Bokuto.” He obediently complied, thank the gods, but not without an overzealous goodbye to Kaori, as if he’d never see her again when lunch was just half an hour away.

He didn’t say anything to you. He didn’t need to, anyway. The lingering gaze that he directed towards you was enough.

“Thank you,” you exhaled once you made sure you’re no longer within his earshot, plopping your head against Kaori’s soft arm.

Her chuckle fluttered towards you, causing you to smile as she asked, “Is it that bad?”

You could only nod, both as an affirmation and an effort to shake those golden, hawk-eyes out of your system.

“I’ll talk to him,” she said after a few seconds of comfortable silence, the firmness in her voice making you stand upright and level with her.

Common decency tells you that you should say no, to stop her and tell her that she didn’t really have to; that you shouldn’t make a big deal out of this. But, you’d never really been one to listen to what that part of your brain dictates.

Taking her hand in yours, you gave it a light squeeze, incapable of doing anything else to convey your gratitude with a sob lodged in your throat.

“He’s not a bad guy, our Bokuto,” Kaori soothed. “And for what it’s worth, he’s never been like this with someone he likes.”

A grin lit up her face as you snorted, remembering the time someone had finally caught on to Bokuto’s newfound fixation. The uproar that it’d cause in the field when everyone was out enjoying slices of ripe watermelon. The unnecessary and, frankly, embarrassing anger that it’d pulled out of your boys after it's been revealed to the whole world. The infamous blush on Bokuto Kotaro’s face as he desperately tried to deny the accusation.

And the cold, spent feeling it left you.

“Normally, he’d be all over them,” she continued, mimicking his owl-like way of moving, bobbing her head to and fro as she circled around you.

“Kaori!” you squealed, pushing her playfully by the shoulder.

“Bokuto would be like—” Kaori pumped her fists in the air, “ Hey, hey, hey! Talk to me! Talk to me! Compliment me! Love me! ”

You simply hummed, folding your arms against your chest as you commended her spot-on performance.

She didn’t need to tell you all that, though. The guy had a personality so big it’s a miracle how this city contains him. And you’d known from the very beginning that Bokuto Kotaro doesn’t seem like the type to do the whole “pining from a distance” thing.

But, they even said that he’s half in love with you already, with the way he follows you with his eyes and flails and stutters and acts like he’s never had a mouth and a pair of hands before whenever he’s around you. And that, somehow, he plays even better than he already does when you’re in the audience ( especially when it’s against your team).

You don’t bother to correct them and say that no, this might not be a silly little crush.

Because you don’t think that anyone but you would understand that there can never be any love nor infatuation in a stare that traps you with its expectations. Even if you did tell them that, you’re the only one who knows what Bokuto’s gaze really makes you feel like: A plaything that he’s been gifted to and was told would sing and dance for him just so he’d stop crying.

And you know what temperamental children do with toys that don’t work the way they want it to, don’t you?

“Trust me.”

Kaori’s gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“He’s just an idiot,” she told you. “You’ve seen him— especially last week!” Kaori’s eyes bulged out, leaning closer to you, both of you gasping at the memory.

Tears sprung out of your eyes as you laughed harder, your stomach aching when Kaori began to recount the events that had turned the entire training camp on its head, forever planting itself in its history as the worst ordeal it’s ever faced:

A piece of the wall in the girls’ sleeping room broke off, revealing a large, Lovecraftian nest of cockroaches.

“If you’d only seen his face!” Kaori cackled, struggling to finish as she clutched onto you for support. “He burs- bursted into the room only for him to- to-”

“Pass out when a roach flew to his nose! I know !” you screeched and slapped the table with her, ignoring that you’re almost knocking over the food and chortling until you were close to having a heart attack.

“Oh- oh , I can’t breathe,” she groaned. Your laughter tapered off into heaving as you fixed her mussed bangs.

You smiled.

“See,” Kaori finally said, pinching your chin a little. “Bokuto’s a meathead. Just a meathead. Guy can’t get a clue. But he’ll come around once he realizes that he’s being weird.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, giving her a weak nod. "I'm sure he will."

You didn't know if you meant to say that with a hint of irony; if that scared farm girl is rearing her ugly head again and pointing a pitchfork at a monster of her own making.

A monster that, you're convinced, would do something more than just look once you're within its reach.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Bokuto even had it all figured out in his head. C’mon, he's got the looks, doesn't he? And he's not lacking in charm. In fact, he's oozing with it! That's why Bokuto had expected that he had this one in the bag. His game plan was foolproof:

Talk to the girl. Get the girl.

After that, you’d be together for the rest of your lives and your fiery, unrelenting support for that lousy team of yours would never go in vain ever again. Because it’d all be directed to him. All that “ Good job! ” and “ You were amazing back there! ” and “ Don’t be scared! I’ll be right here rooting for you! ” would finally be given to someone who actually deserves it.

All you had to do was see what he had to offer and baby— oh baby , how you'd love him. No force on Earth could have prevented Bokuto from making you his.

So it's all the more sobering now that Bokuto’s witnessed that the said force turned out to be him of all people. And what he could actually give you was a few stumbling lines and compliments that didn't even make any sense (“ Y-your face smells nice ” for example)— all (preferably) uttered a few feet away from you.

The others teased him for looking like a jilted witch casting a spell on an indifferent lover. “What are you? Speaking in tongues or something? Is the Great Horned Owl that desperate?” they poked at him. He didn’t mind them before, but now he’s not so sure.

" Tone it down, okay? " Kaori had reminded him again earlier this afternoon. That stern talking-to from their manager was an ice-cold bucket of water that doused what’s left of his optimism.

But, tone what down? What , exactly, is left to tone down?

He couldn’t even talk to you without losing his ability to string coherent words together, let alone get close to you. Eye contact, too, he’d deliberately restrained himself from doing (if only you knew how much this is hurting him!) and not just because he’d been deemed a complete and utter creep.

Bokuto couldn’t look you in the eye ever since that incident.

“ She’s helping the other girls carry their stuff to the other room, I saw them just now ,” Yamamoto had discreetly passed on as soon as he woke up from a terrible concussion. “And if you want to redeem yourself, my friend, after that humiliating performance, you’d better go out there and lend a hand. ”

Because Yamamoto, being the love expert that he proclaimed he was, told him, “ Look, I feel for you. But it’s simple. You just gotta show her what you’re made of. That you’re a man she can depend upon, ” Bokuto then persevered to follow through.

Only for him to be met by an empty room with bits of crumbled plaster scattered across the floor. And your bag in the furthest corner just...lying there.

Maybe you’d forgotten about it. Maybe you were too busy catering to your friends' needs that you'd forgotten about yourself.

Either way, Bokuto promises that it wasn’t on purpose.

Bokuto had good intentions, really! He just wanted to take the bag with him so he could give it to you, is all! It wasn’t his fault that some of your stuff was peeking through the half-opened zipper. It’d already been in that state when he saw it.

And- and it’s not his fault that he adores you too much.

Bokuto reminds himself as much as he propped his forehead against the bathroom wall, water from the shower pouring against the taut muscles on his back as he wrapped your underwear around his cock.

The baby pink fabric, every inch of it soiled now over the days that he's used it, rubbed against his balls when he began fondling them, his other hand caressing his nipples, rubbing and pinching at the peaks until they stiffened between his calloused fingers.

His cock grew hard and heavy in his hand as he started pumping into his fist, fucking your soaked panties until precum dripped from slit.

And with nobody else in the shower room, Bokuto allowed himself to grunt and curse and call out your name, digging his nails into his skin until it stung and made him want to cry.

"Make me cum, princess," he whined, shutting his eyes to watch you on your knees, fingers between your legs as you looked up at him, never taking your eyes off of him even as you took his cock down your throat.

"Please, please ," Bokuto groaned,"Please let me cum."

Here, you don't turn away nor brush him off without even saying anything. Here, you call him your baby and you chuckle as you ask him, " Good boys deserve to cum, don't they? "

He bit his lip, pressing his cheek against the freezing tile. "Mmhmm, I-I've been-" Bokuto moaned, feeling himself creep closer and closer, the pleasure at the pit of his stomach building, "I've been so fucking good for you."

The contrast of your pretty little underwear around the thick veins of his cock made his head spin. And as he squeezed his shaft tighter, Bokuto knew that he did, in fact, deserve so much more.

Because he's endured so much just for you. Now, it's time to get what he's due.

Scouring high and low for a pair of cotton panties that have seen better days wasn’t how you wished you’d celebrate the last night with your newfound friends.

Yuki had advised that you abandon the ratty, old thing (though you did say it wasn't; ratty, that is) and leave it here as a parting gift— a mark of your impact on their lives, if you will— but you’d quickly laughed her off and set out to find it. She was drunk, anyway.

Although, so were you. If not, then just a tiny, itsy, bitsy, bit tipsy.

You hiccuped, giggling as the sound echoed through the poorly-lit hallway. The world was spinning beneath you and you prayed that it wasn’t worse for poor Yuki, having chugged half of that horrid concoction.

Kaori almost threw her out of the window after that stunt. Mako scoffed at her for being an arrogant ass. The girls who weren’t drinking sat back and chose to enjoy the unfolding chaos (while also being kind enough to be on the lookout).

And you...well...right now you’re on the verge of breaking down as you make your way to the shower room.

Mostly because you’re just realizing that you might never see them again if your team doesn’t survive the Inter High. Partly because you’ve been dumb enough to not notice that you’ve been missing an underwear for a couple of days now.

God, it's so ridiculous. You're ridiculous. You're glad that you went on your own and rejected their offer to accompany you. Imagine if they saw you like this:

Oscillating between sobs and strained laughter while swaying on your feeble legs; the very picture of a lunatic out in the streets in the middle of the night.

You only hoped that you're not scaring the living daylights out of that guy who probably just went out of the boys' room to pee. Maybe you have already spooked him, with how still he's gotten.

Cupping your palms around your mouth, you saw fit to save his sanity and cried, "Heyyyy! I'm not- hic - a ghost!"

"Oh!" you gasped, raising a pointing finger to shush yourself, "Oh, yeah, sorry, shhh-"

He didn't run the other way screaming and crying, which was good, instead he approached you hurriedly, making you squint to get a better look at him.

"Koyama?" you whispered, struggling to recognize the tall boy with a sturdy build, his navy blue hoodie casting a shadow on his face. It didn't help that your eyes were doing something funny, as if they were busted camera lenses that went uncontrollably in and out of focus.

"Good evening, my dear! I daresay you're looking quite bur- burl- blurry tonight."

You cackled, immediately following your greeting with a slurred apology.

"Why- Why are you still- um- up?" he asked. And before you could volley him with a question pointing to his weirdly different voice, he brought his head down to sniff at you. "Wait- have you b- are you drunk ?"

"What! No! Of course not!" You pouted and airily slapped his cheek, drawing a lopsided grin out of you when his skin glowed pink, bright enough to light up the entire place. It was so remarkably adorable that it made you squeal and pinch both cheeks, rocking his face as you did.

"Look at our big boy!" A sheepish, almost disbelieving chuckle shook his large chest as you resumed your baby talk, your grabby hands bringing his face towards you. "Who would've thought that our stwong, wowdy ace could bwush wike so? And what's with this siwwy hoodie, huh? Where did you get this, bunnycakes? I've never seen you wear this before!"

You wondered, also, why and how his jet black hair turned pallidly gray over the few hours you hadn't seen him. You even brushed the mildly damp locks out of his forehead, unsure if they're even real as you tried to right your smudged vision.

And you wanted to blame it all on the alcohol.

It's the reason for that dramatic change in his tone and manner of speaking and hair color and...those eyes .

The very same pair that followed you everywhere, sometimes even in your sleep.

"You love me, after all," he breathed, the statement a thin sheet of glass that could blow into smithereens at just the wrong response.

That had been enough to drain the inebriation out of your body. Like being branded, you pulled away from Bokuto with a harsh curse.

"I- I have to go," you said. "Sorry, I thought you were Ko- my teammate."

But Bokuto had already laid hold of your arm with no intent of letting go.

"Stay!" Bokuto called out, repeating it with please and listen despite your outcries, shouting for Kaori and Yuki and Mako and Shigeru and Takami and Coach and Koyoma and anyone, help me, anyone.

Until he tugged you to his chest, wrapping himself around you and turning his entire body into a concrete prison as he fervently told you, "I love you. I love you so much ever since the first time I saw you and I know, I know you feel the same so if it's the distance that's keeping you from me I can come to you I'll follo-"

"Nothing's keeping me from jackshit!" you gritted out. "I don't love you! I don't even care about you!"

He didn't say anything to that.

Bokuto had gone quiet. It wasn't only until he nuzzled your neck, pressing his face snugly down the crook, that you decided to kick him with all your strength, breaking yourself free as your heart thundered out of your chest.

You didn't look back.

You dashed through the long, endless hallway with the air in your lungs dangerously running low and keeping you from screaming.

But the remnants of the alcohol were lead that weighed your feet to the ground, betraying you further by morphing your surroundings into a hazy, dizzying scape. You teetered and wobbled, desperate to reach that staircase that will lead you out of this floor, but each step that you took was not fast enough, not nimble enough, as if you’re wading through knee-deep water.

And before you know it the monster has caught up and is ready to pounce from right behind you.

“Get your hands off me!” you wailed as Bokuto heaved you by the waist and carried you over his shoulder.

The sudden upending of your world was so nauseating, you didn’t even notice that he’d already taken you to an almost pitch black classroom, its heavy curtains drawn together and the empty chairs and tables pushed to the side.

His large, sprawling hand was gripping your ass, your stomach lurching when you felt him caress it. Yet that didn’t deter you from hitting whichever part of him that your knuckles and feet could touch, ignoring the trail of your own spit that dripped on your face as you howled and thrashed and fought to keep yourself together because no one was hearing you.

What’s left for you, now? Your captor was so strong, much stronger than you, that even when he tripped on his toes, Bokuto was able to catch himself and drop you on the nearest table in just a single breath.

“Stop fighting me..!” he panted, holding you down as he knelt before you. “I’m not gonna hurt you! I- ow! Don’t-”

Bokuto’s grip on your wrists was unbudgeable. So, you didn’t miss the chance to bite him when he covered your mouth with his palm. Teeth chattering, you broke the tough flesh, sunk them sharply until the taste of salt and iron flooded your tongue.

You expected that it would push him away. Give you the leverage to escape.

That turned out to be a mistake.

His honey-gold eyes glinted as he stared deep into yours. Every hair on your body stood on end when the corners of his lips slowly lifted, eyes still fixed on you as he released a bubbly, childlike laughter.

“I've always wanted to do this to you," he sighed giddily.

The helplessness chipped at your insides bit by torturous bit when all you could do was rock the table with your flailing, while Bokuto had already crouched lower— low enough to pull the hem of your thin shorts with his teeth.

He watched you weep with a sickening display of dejection, like he's some dog that's been shoved around by his master.

"Please don't cry," Bokuto whined, peppering soft kisses all over the insides of your thighs then licking off the beads of sweat that covered the goosebumps.

You’re not giving up.

You couldn’t give up.

You pushed and gnawed and tore skin that you’re sure every inch of his palm is littered with fresh bruises, but this only seemed to encourage Bokuto, drawing out his drugged out moans as he spat on your clothed cunt, drool leaking down to your folds before he lapped at the wet spot. The moistened fabric scratched and rubbed against your clit to the point of quivering and writhing in his clutch.

“Oh, I know , baby,” Bokuto murmured, using the tip of his tongue to flick at the swollen nub. “I’ll make you feel real good soon.”

Shaking your head, the unwiped tears gathering around your eyelids dropped to his long, calloused fingers. And you wanted to screech, to tell him to go to hell as he swirled his tongue all over your embarrassingly slick hole.

No, you wanted more than that.

You wanted to drive your bare hands into his chest.

But that’s not what you did, is it?

When Bokuto finally removed his hand from your mouth, what slipped past your lips wasn’t the sound of a woman ready to kill. Instead, you sounded like a little girl begging to be carried home. And that hadn’t been the part that scared you, really.

It was the fact that no matter how much you tried to scream, nothing was coming out.

“L-let me go,” you wheezed, your voice cracking. “Or- or else.”

“Or else?” Bokuto replied, eliciting a gasp from you as he sniffed your throbbing, wet cunt. “Look at me, princess.”

“ Look at me ,” he repeated pleadingly, frustration giving his tone a rough edge, as he brought the hand that once suppressed your attempts to call for help to skim past your thigh and stroke the sole of your feet. “Just this once. See me.”

You kept your eyes closed, even as he kissed your toes and brought it down to his crotch, forcing you to dig your heel into the bulge jutting out. He rocked his hips, gyrating slowly, his cock hardening under your feet, as he whimpered into your leg.

“Please, please fuck me, please ,” Bokuto mewled. “I’ll do any- anything for you.”

Profanities rushed out of you, but no one could hear them. Not even you. Perhaps that's why he didn’t flinch when he lugged you down to straddle on his lap.

“Use me, baby,” he whispered, grinning wide as he snaked his other hand to your back and dug his nails around your nape, laying on his back and taking you with him as he did, your tits crushed to his chest.

With your arms dying in his grip, Bokuto easily stripped his pants along with his boxers. Violent trembles wracked your body as he dragged your pussy along his thick shaft, back and forth, your damp panties riding up every time he thrusted upwards.

His hot breath against your ear sent shivers down your spine as he giggled lowly, “Wanna cum inside you so fucking bad . Will you let me, hm? Please let me.”

Of course you didn’t want to. It’s not like you’d stop struggling, either. It’s just that Bokuto would never listen to you. Even when he whimpered and babbled, “You don’t want to- fuck, your pussy’s all nice and wet - oh, you don’t want to? That's okay, that’s okay, baby,” Bokuto still slipped his cock inside your underwear.

It slid past your lips up to your clit. And you’d never hated yourself more in your entire life when all you could do was stay limp and cry as the fat tip finally nudged your twitching hole.

“No, no, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered, scattering kisses on your neck, “It’s just the head- just the head.”

As Bokuto groaned and rutted against you, all you wished for, in that moment, was for dawn to peek through the curtains and signal the end of this torment. But, still it went on with Bokuto stretching you open.

And as he split you in half, you detachedly realized that you were right.

This place did eat you alive.

#tw noncon #tw non con haikyuu #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro x female reader #Dark content haikyuu #yandere bokuto kotaro

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years ago

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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Umbrae Secrets [繁荫秘语] Date Translation (END 7 + 8: Heart-throb)

"It feels pretty good to have your wish granted by someone else.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 6✩ Inspiration has 8 Endings!! *Reblogs and likes appreciated! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution *Will be taking a short break for one or two days for mental health reasons, so no TLs will be uploaded while I’m gone

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

After pondering for a while, I finally decided to…

✩ E7 LIGHT: Rest here ✩

MC: The view's pretty nice. How about we rest here for a while?

Evan: Sure. Let's sit here then.

I followed Evan and seated myself atop a rock by the river and gave a good big stretch, easing the tension out of my slightly sore hips and legs.

The vegetation around us was a little sparser now, and the golden sunlight fell upon us in mottled spots. The river had crystal clear water. The sunlight pierced through the waves, leaving shimmering gold patterns that wavered along with the current of the river.

There were occasional grey shadows that darted through the water. I excitedly patted Evan's arm to catch his attention the moment I saw it.

MC: Look! There are fish in the river!

Evan: There's quite a bit of them. Those look like striped bass.

MC: They're so big…

Staring at the plump and juicy-looking fishes, I suddenly became acutely aware of the snarling abyss that was my stomach as it slowly woke back up.

I never expected to get hungry just from that short trek.

Those fishes would be delicious steamed! Add soy sauce, a little wine to taste, and the meat will become tender and succulent, absolutely flavorful...

But it would also be equally good braised! Deep fry it first, then add soybean sauce, Sichuan pepper and star anise to spice it up. Then add water to let the sauce soak in, producing a flavourful, mouthwatering, aroma!

I couldn't help but swallow in anticipation. I guiltily cast a glance at Evan, hoping that he didn't notice my guilty inward musings of a glutton.

Evan: Don't tell me you're thinking whether this fish would be better braised or steamed?

MC: ??? ...Remove the camera you installed in my brain!

Evan: Why would I need a camera? It's written all over your face.

Evan: It'll be a little hard to steam or braise anything here, but we can try grilling the fish if we have a stove to work with.

Hearing the words "grilled" and "fish", I instantly felt rejuvenated. Gone were my sore hips and aching legs.

I jumped up from the rock I'd been sitting on with a start.

MC: Grilled fish sounds good! I've got the stove! And grills! And seasonings!

Evan: Brilliant.

MC: Then there's only one thing missing… How are we going to catch the fish?

Evan surveyed the area and pondered for a while before speaking.

Evan: There are traces of grilling being done on the ground. Someone must have grilled fish here before.

Evan: We can look around and see if there is any equipment left behind that we can make use of.

MC: Okay!

Evan and I each took one side of the river as we scoured the bank for any items that may be of use.

Soon after, I moved a patch of tall grass aside and lifted something in triumphant joy.

MC: Evan! Look at what I found! A harpoon!

Hearing me call out to him, Evan headed over. He took the rusty harpoon from me and gave it a once over.

Evan: Sharpen it on the rocks and it should be good to go.

MC: Great!

Evan took the harpoon to the rocks and gave it a thorough sanding to get all the rust off. Soon, the once-rusty harpoon regained its sharp, deadly, metallic glint. It looked as primed as ever.

After he was done polishing it up, I excitedly picked it up. Evan looked at me in slight surprise.

Evan: You want to try?

MC: Yeah! Plus, I'm wearing a dress, so I don't have to worry about getting my pant leg wet or anything like that!

Evan took one glance at the way I was brandishing the harpoon, looking ever so eager to try my hand at it, and softened. A helpless yet tender look dyed his orbs.

Evan: Alright, but be careful not to slip.

MC: Right!

I took the harpoon to the river bank and quietly searched for my quarry.

Soon enough, a shadow slid smoothly across the water. But, it had already gotten long out of reach before I had the time to react.

I observed the waters for a while more, familiarizing myself with how the fishes moved.

When another fish appeared, I timed myself, raising the harpoon high and bringing it down hard!

The harpoon jostled the river and disturbed the dirt at the bottom of the riverbed. However, there was no fish in sight when the waters came to a standstill once more. There was only a harpoon, firmly embedded into the riverbed.

MC: Feels like I'm swerving my hits a bit…

A small laugh came from behind as a warm hand enclosed mine, wielding the harpoon together with me. He dislodged it and returned it to my grasp with surprising ease and finesse.

Evan: It's alright. Try again.

Evan: Throw the spearhead further to prevent hurting yourself.

I nodded and took the harpoon. Soon, I took my aim at another incoming fish.

I inwardly encouraged myself: I'll get it this time!

I swung the harpoon and sent it stabbing downward. This time, I felt like I'd hit the target quite accurately!

However, the fish wiggled for a bit beneath my harpoon before speedily making its slippery escape…

MC: *Sigh*...Is it because I'm too weak?

Evan: It's because you hesitated.

MC: Hmm, maybe a little. I suddenly feel a little hesitant to deal the finishing blow when I think of how this harpoon inevitably pierces the fish’s body.

Evan: Reluctance to deal the finishing blow is only normal. How about I do it instead?

A strong wave of reluctance surged up within my heart. I swiftly hid the harpoon behind my back.

MC: Nah. I’ve only tried it twice! Give me a couple more chances and I’ll definitely be able to do it!

Evan: If you say so.

Evan: Then you'll have to be faster, and you'll have to land harder hits than that.

Evan: Or you can think of it as your enemy, or maybe someone you dislike?

MC: Hahaha… Well, about that…

I thought about it seriously for a while, but I couldn’t think of anyone I particularly disliked.

Hence, I looked back at Evan and casually dropped him a question.

MC: I can't really think of any off the top of my head. Do you have anyone you dislike?

Evan was taken aback. His eyes were slightly lowered as if he was hiding some sort of emotion that dwelled within.

I suddenly recalled that we’d come on this trip precisely because something had happened beforehand to make him unhappy. Now, his expression only made me understand it more with stark clarity: yes, he did have someone he disliked...

MC: You don’t have to think about unhappy things! I’m sure that person’s not a good person if they’ve made even you dislike them! I’ll teach them a lesson!

Evan: Why, thank you.

With the harpoon in tow, I returned to the river bank. Reflected in my mind was none other than how Evan had reacted to my earlier question.

Just what sort of issue would trouble someone as strong as him? On that same note, just what sort of person would cause someone as powerful as him to become this restless and uneasy?

Then, a fish slowly swam into my line of sight. And it was precisely with this sort of mood that I raised the harpoon high in the air, sending it plummeting downward without a moment’s hesitation!

However, the sudden force I’d flung it down with made me lose balance as I went down with it. I felt my waist move backwards from the force as my feet slipped from beneath me...

MC: Uwah!

Splash!

Water splashed in all directions as I slipped right into the river...

Evan: !!

Fortunately, this river wasn’t deep and only reached my waist. Evan swiftly support me as I stood up.

Evan: Are you alright?

MC: I'm fine… my butt's just a little sore… Ow…

Evan: Slowly.

He supported me back to sit on the rock. I looked down to inspect myself. My dress was soaked and dripping water everywhere.

I gathered my dress and wrung out a load of water from it. Ah, how I’ve screwed up...

Evan: Does it hurt anywhere else?

I gathered my hair together in slight embarrassment as I shook my head.

After ensuring that I was not injured in any way or manner, Evan moved to light the stove by my feet. He then removed his jacket and placed it over my lap.

Evan: Be careful not to catch a cold.

My stomach gave a loud rumble in protest the moment he finished. I quickly covered it in embarrassment.

Evan: Alright. Let me procure our lunch.

MC: I'll have to trouble you with it then…

Evan: It's no trouble at all.

Evan removed his glasses, rolled up his sleeves, and picked up my abandoned harpoon on the river bank.

Wrapping his jacket around myself, I looked up at him curiously.

I wonder what the CEO of Warson, ever dignified and well put-together, would look like brandishing a harpoon of steel?

❖☆———————————★❖

Just as I was thinking about that, Evan suddenly went rigid; and I, in turn, watched him with bated breath.

His gaze seemed to be transfixed on a particular fish. His dark red eyes narrowed with intent as the light in his orbs instantly turned to a cold glint; one as sharp as a deadly blade.

He raised the harpoon, the muscles on his arms and chest rippling as they made themselves known in their usage and exuded a raw, primal, sense of power.

The sun's rays glinted off the sharp blade of the harpoon, reflecting the cold light of the forest.

I watched him in a daze. It was almost as if I was watching a formidable and ruthless beast at work after having set eyes on its prey.

I'd rarely seen Evan with such an expression on his face. A thought suddenly popped into my head out of nowhere.

Maybe this was how Evan had always dealt with his enemies; swift and ruthless.

Then, the harpoon flashed through the waters as quick as lightning.

Water splashed everywhere as a muffled thud sounded. Evan had made his quarry, no doubt.

❖☆———————————★❖

With another slosh, the harpoon was withdrawn from the waters. A huge fish followed the length out of the water, trashing incessantly, its tail flicking to and fro.

When Evan turned to look at me, the usual warmth found in his eyes had returned.

Evan: Can you help me fetch a bucket?

I snapped out of the trance, hurriedly moving to fetch a bucket and brought it before him.

MC: You got it in a single strike! You're really awesome, Evan!

Evan: A young lady is waiting for me, hungry and cold, after all.

Embarrassed, I stuck my tongue out at him.

He removed the fish from the harpoon and dumped it into the bucket before returning to the river bank.

Following his return, the harpoon made continuous sounds as it pierced through the waters again and again. His actions grew increasingly precise, and I could tell that he was trying to let out some steam with how much strength he packed into each stab.

Soon, he managed to spear another two fish out of the river. They were both huge and plump, and he seemed to be much more relaxed when he turned back around again.

He knelt down and weighed his spoils with satisfaction.

Evan: The biggest catch weighs nearly 2kg. It should be enough for us.

Afterwards, he neatly killed the fish by the bank before putting them all on the grilling rack. I brushed the fish meat with the barbecue sauce that I'd brought.

The stove burned ever so strongly, and the place was instantly doused with the delicious aroma that rose into the air alongside the smoke. I rubbed my hands in anticipation, so excited about it that I couldn't quite sit still.

The fishes were finally cooked. I quickly took a bite out of it, leaning back in satisfaction as I did.

MC: How fresh! This is too delicious! You should try some too, Evan!

Evan: Sure. Careful not to burn yourself on it.

Saying so, he too, took a piece of the fish and brought it to his mouth. Under my watchful gaze, he gave it a serious chew or two as he contemplated the taste. Eventually, he gave a nod of approval.

Evan: Mmhm. Your sauce does a mean job too.

MC: Not bad, right? This is my personal recipe!

MC: With the fish you caught and my speciality sauce, these fish taste way better than any I've ever had in high-end restaurants!

Evan: We can always eat this again whenever you want to, so long as you're willing.

I nodded, unwittingly flashing him a smile, almost as if making a silent promise to him that we most definitely would.

MC: Have you ever gone fishing, Evan? You technically score full marks in wilderness survival!

Evan: I once lived out in the wild for a while at a time in the past, after all. But, I never had a harpoon back then, so today's my first time using one.

MC: Then you must be a naturally born hunter!

MC: I felt like you were exuding a predatory area when I saw you fishing earlier!

MC: How should I put this… It's as if you'll definitely catch the prey you set your eyes on.

MC: Unlike me… *Sighs*...

Evan: Why the sudden sigh?

MC: Well… I just thought that I'd put up a rather disappointing performance today.

MC: I was the one who got all enticed by the tasty-looking fish, but in the end, not only was I unable to spear a single one, but I've also rendered myself into a right state.

MC: The cat depicted in the cat emote pack online's definitely me. "Small, pitiful, and weak, but eats a whole lot like Tubbs"!

Evan smiled and shook his head. He rested his big hand on my head.

Evan: I don't think this is a fair comparison.

Evan: A kitten won't help me deal with the people I dislike, but that throw of yours earlier was one done with all your might behind the harpoon.

Evan: It makes me feel like I've met someone whom I can entirely trust.

His tone suddenly turned tender and very soft. So soft, that it was almost as if he had all his guards down; but so heavy, that it was as if he'd placed all his trust into it.

It was akin to a small drop of honey, the vicious liquid slowly spreading through my heart.

MC: Of course… I'll always be your most reliable buddy, ever!

MC: But, I'll be happier if I can really be of help to you!

Evan: You've already helped me plenty.

Evan: Next time I have to deal with them, all I have to do is to remember how brave you were and draw strength from that.

I froze. The only thing that my helpful brain provided was the image of me slipping right into the river, butt first. I panicked, instantly setting my chopsticks down.

MC: No! Forget that terrible throw I made earlier! Vanquish the thought!

I laughed as I ate, making a fuss of it all. Before we knew it, all the fish on the grilling rack had been swiped clean.

I embarrassedly put the chopsticks away, awkwardly coming to the realization that I was, in fact, not full yet.

70% filled is still considered full… I inwardly hesitated, mentally debating with myself. I was so absorbed in it that I failed to notice how Evan had a clear view of the expression that flickered across my face yet again.

Evan: I'll go catch some more fish to grill.

MC: Uh… About that… I'm sure the fish meat gets digested quickly! I'm sure that's just what it is!

Evan: No worries.

Evan: The charcoal fire's still going strong and it's still early before sundown. Plus, your dress isn't completely dry either.

Evan: We have more than enough time to slowly eat here, and we can do it until you're full and satisfied.

Evan: And as for just how many fishes you ate… I'll make sure to keep it a secret for you.

MC: Wha?

MC: Evan! I never pegged you for one before, but are you actually up to no-good!?

Evan: I'm being serious here.

Evan: It lifts my spirits whenever I see you eat.

Evan: It makes me feel like there's no simpler pleasure than that.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After pondering for a while, I finally decided to…

★ E8 NIGHT: Walk a while more before resting ★

MC: I'm good. Besides, it'll be hard to get going again once we sit, so how about we carry on a little while more and see how it goes?

Evan: You're here for fun, so you don't have to be so hard on yourself.

But he'd probably seen the determination colouring my eyes, for he immediately added on to his previous sentence.

Evan: But I'll listen to the leader.

MC: Hehe. Now that's more like it.

❖☆———————————★❖

We continued our trek deeper until the forest. Enamoured by the various sights and sceneries, the sky had turned dark long before I knew it.

Evan: Let's find a place to put up the tent. I think this place is pretty suitable.

MC: Okay!

We chose a location with a wide expanse of flat ground. Then, we set about executing the next step of the plan: set up the tent.

I took the tent from my bag, spreading it out on the ground.

First, we had to insert the two rods into the tarpaulin sheet. Then, we had to insert each end of the pole into the small hole on each corner of the tent.

However, this tarpaulin sheet was just way too big. One corner came loose right after I secured the other.

I tried my hardest to spread my arms as far as they could go, but it was still a struggle to secure both ends of the pole at the same time. I fought valiantly, only to end up covered in sweat from my moot attempts.

MC: This is the only time I hate having short limbs…

Evan: Let me help you.

I looked back in surprise. Evan had already returned from fetching water by the river.

He put the bucket down and came up behind me, spreading his arms and holding the curved poles in place with ease.

However, doing so made our positions very close to one another.

His arms were warm, firm, and much longer than my own; long enough to entrap me within when he spread it out horizontally like that. Adding on to that, our clothes were both slightly damp and sticking to our skin. I could acutely feel the faint rise and fall of his chest from behind.

The surroundings seem to be growing warmer, and I felt an inexplicable sense of panic.

Evan: You just have to pin the four corners down.

MC: Okay...

I fumbled as I ducked out of the cage of his arms, putting the rods into the small holes.

❖☆———————————★❖

With Evan's help, the tent was soon set up in no time at all.

Afterwards, we ignited the kerosene lamp again and set up a simple table and chairs. And thus, our little fort out in the wild was finally complete.

Everyone has an innate love of small secluded private spaces at least once in their lives. Looking at our small lodging, I felt a sense of joy well up from the confines of my heart.

MC: Evan, let's go in and have a look inside!

I couldn't wait to delve right inside. It was only after I'd spun a full round in fascination that I realized Evan was still standing outside.

That's not right. How could I have fun all by myself? The goal of coming here today was to make Evan happy!

I thought of a way to nudge Evan into action. A light bulb lit in my head.

MC: Evan, I'm the leader today, so you'll do everything I say, right?

Evan: Yes. What do you want to do?

MC: I want to play a game.

MC: I'll be your personal Doraemon for the day. I'll help you fulfil any wishes you want!

A flicker of surprise passed his face.

Evan: Why do you want to play a game like that?

I pulled him along with me, sitting him down on a chair before sitting right across him.

MC: You've always been my Doraemon, so today, let me enjoy the joy of giving just this once.

Evan: I mean, it's not like you can't; but, what are you sure you want to be doing that here?

MC: Challenges only make it that much more interesting! Feel free to shoot any request you may have!

Unable to ignore my insistence on this matter, he folded his arms and lapsed into thought.

Evan: Then I'll just make a random wish… I want this tent to look prettier.

MC: Gotcha! Leave it to me!

This was probably the first time Evan had ever wished anything of anyone…

And now, the one to listen to his wishes was no one but me… Thinking this, the yearning to fulfil his wishes for him only burned ever stronger.

I suddenly remembered how I'd brought a string of small, colourful, fairy lights with me; if only because I'd seen someone decorate their tent with it online some time before!

I held my excitement in check as I rummaged through my bag for the fairy lights, connected the battery to the string of light and turned it on. Then, I flashed it before Evan.

MC: Ta-daaaa! Look!

❖☆———————————★❖

It was well into the night. Dishing out the fairy lights in peak darkness lit up our surroundings in a dazzling array of colours.

Evan widened his eyes in surprise, gently taking the fairy lights from me and scrutinizing them.

Evan: You actually bought fairy lights? You're a competent Doraemon, all right.

The bedazzling lights shone on our faces, adding a couple more watts to his smile.

Evan lowered his eyes, seemingly lost in his memories.

Evan: You know, these fairy lights remind me of the New Year holidays.

Evan: I walked on the streets and saw the doors of many families decorated with fairy lights like these.

Evan: Celebratory and homey… I really adore it.

Watching Evan's wary manner of carefully selecting his words, I couldn't help but feel my heart clench slightly.

Maybe… this was what he imagined home to be like…

However, he quickly snapped back to reality, his gaze falling to the fairy light before us once more.

Evan: The workmanship of these fairy lights are very intricate, and each bulb is shaped differently.

MC: Yeah. Look, this one’s a small pepper and this one’s a little eggplant...

Evan: Yes. And this one here. This one looks like you; the little rabbit.

MC: It really is a rabbit! You've got some keen observation skills.

MC: But, why am I the only animal? That sounds a little lonely…

Evan: You won't be lonely; because the one right beside the little rabbit's me.

Evan spread his arms, displaying the light bulb beside the little rabbit on the string of lights. But, all I saw was a red ball of light there.

MC: And what does this one look like? I can't really tell

Evan: It doesn't matter what it looks like; because I'm the only one who will stay by the little rabbit's side, regardless.

Although his smile was much warmer in the light, his tone still held an undeniable wistfulness.

I felt an odd sense of panic, but I didn't feel like fleeing from it.

❖☆———————————★❖

Eventually, we put the fairy lights up on the tent.

The constantly flickering and changing lights made the tent look cuter, and much more lovely. It felt like home.

I watched as Evan entered the tent, settling himself comfortably within, his eyes narrowing into happy little slits in a closed-eyed smile. Seeing him this relaxed made my heart fill with joy.

MC: Time for your next wish, Evan!

Evan: Are we continuing? I'm already pretty satisfied.

MC: The game's only just started! You can be a little more willful; just like a little kid!

I gently tugged at his arm, softly coaxing him into giving in.

Getting him to relax was no easy feat; and now, I was finally seeing a glimmer of hope! I can't let it go to waste!

Evan: Alright, one more then.

MC: I'll say this first, but you're forbidden from wishing for something overly simple! I'm Doraemon; you've gotta put your trust in me!

Evan: Okay. Then I want to drink hand-brewed coffee.

He levelled a calm gaze at me, seemingly waiting for me to admit defeat; but I only smiled triumphantly.

MC: Just you wait and see!

I knew that Evan loved coffee, so I’d brought some ground coffee powder along with a set of simple brewing tools.

I lit the stove, boiled a pot of hot water, and slowly poured it into the filter where I’d placed the powder, balanced atop an empty cup, going in circular motions. Soon, a cup of fragrant hand-brewed coffee was made.

I handed the cup of coffee to Evan. He lowered his head to give the aroma a whiff, a pleased smile appearing on his face.

Evan: A fragrance that I love.

Evan: But it's missing a little something.

He then moved to personally make a similar cup for me. We both sat down across each other, nursing our cups of coffee and taking small sips from it.

Even while sitting on a foldable chair, the way he drank his coffee was still as elegant as ever.

The forest was silent. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of intermittent chirping of the insects hidden within the foliage, adding to the relaxed and leisurely atmosphere.

MC: Evan, don’t you think that it’s been a long time since we’ve stepped away from the bustling city life to simply spend time together like this, thinking about nothing?

MC: You seem busy lately. I'm honestly a little concerned if you actually have time to wind down…

Evan: Thank you for your concern. I do have the time to do so once in a while.

He raised the cup of coffee in his hand.

Evan: This is the aroma I settle down with every lunch break, to watch a movie, or to read a book.

MC: Right, I often do the same as well.

A flicker of thought entered my mind, and I immediately latched on.

MC: I know! I've helped you think of your next wish!

Evan: Oh? And what is it?

I smiled mysteriously at him, turning around to rummage through my bag.

I happened to bring a book along with me today, so I searched the contents of my bag for it, pulling it out and handing it to him.

He ran his fingers across the gold-gilded text that had been printed onto the book cover. After a while, he suddenly returned the book to me. I raised my head in slight surprise, only to see the slight smile hidden in the corner of his eyes.

Evan: If that's how it is, then could I trouble you to read a paragraph for me?

MC: Sure.

Opening the book, I picked out a story that was about the forest and slowly started reading aloud.

It was seemingly enough to please him. He held onto his coffee, slowly leaning into the soft pillow, closing his eyes in satisfaction.

After finishing a paragraph, I closed the book, only to find him staring at me seriously. There was a fire flickering within his crimson orbs.

Evan: You know, I actually like this story a lot.

Evan: The first time I read this book, I imagined myself in the protagonist’s shoes.

Evan: Riding a small boat in a remote and secluded river, letting the current take me wherever it goes.

Evan: Expecting nothing, with no destination in mind. It doesn’t matter if I get stuck in a rapid, or if I’m just turning around in place.

MC: Sounds romantic enough. What happened after? Did you ever try doing so?

Evan: Not yet. Later, I ended up coming to the forest many times, but unfortunately, none of it was to seek recreation.

Evan: Which means, this is my first time.

Evan: So, thank you; for making this a memorable night for me.

He seemed a little tuckered out, and his voice was as soft as a mere whisper. His eyes were slowly fluttering shut as he spoke.

His eyelashes slid down as his eyes closed, casting a faint shadow on his features. I quietly observed how picturesque he looked like that as I thought back to everything he’d just said. A new plan was born within my heart.

Perhaps this wish was something that I could truly fulfil for him.

❖☆———————————★❖

The next morning, at exactly 5 AM. I was roused from my slumber as my alarm clock rang.

I gave a big wide stretch, casting a glance at Evan. Thankfully enough, he hadn’t been awoken by the alarm and was still curled up in the sleeping bag next to be, fast and soundly asleep.

After doing a simple wash up, I quietly exited the tent.

We passed by a commercial campground yesterday while searching for a suitable campsite. It provided rental services of a wide variety of camping equipment.

That’s why my first thought had been this place when I heard Evan mention boating last night. Hence, I contacted them and reserved an inflatable kayak.

With the help of my mobile GPS navigator, I walked the forest for about half an hour before I finally arrived at the campsite.

After waiting outside for a good long while, the owner whom I’d previously made an appointment with came up to me in a right state of panic.

Campsite Owner: Sorry! Some trouble cropped up, so I’m late…

MC: Don’t worry about it. What happened though? Do you need any help?

Campsite Owner: Can I bother you? If so, then yes please! I’ll tell you what happened…

After a while, I handed a trembling kitten to the owner.

It began rolling about as soon as it returned to its owner’s arms, acting like a baby as it rubbed itself against the owner’s palm, as if expressing regretfulness for its actions.

MC: The little guy must have been scared out of its mind.

Campsite Owner: Yeah. Thank you so much, Miss! I have no idea what I'd have done without you.

MC: Don't worry about it. It's no big deal.

When I came to the campsite earlier, the owner had been in the middle of a cat problem. It had climbed to the top of the tree without anyone's notice and didn't dare come down.

It had been meowing helplessly at the very top. Hence, I immediately joined the rescue effort without a second thought.

I hear that it had already been stuck up the tree for about 10 hours or more. We didn't have a tall enough ladder, so it took a great amount of improvisation to finally save the poor kitten.

Campsite Owner: Oh, right. J nearly forgot your kayak. This isn't light, though! Can you carry it alone?

MC: Huh?

I stepped forward to test its weight. The folded inflatable kayak was indeed heavier than I expected. But thinking about how Evan would react upon seeing this kayak, I suddenly felt that this extra weight meant absolutely nothing in comparison.

Campsite Owner: *Sigh* Since you've helped me, I ought to repay you the favour by lugging this back for you. But I've still got appointments later so I really can't afford to leave...

Campsite Owner: Rental's free of charge then! Have fun with it!

MC: It's alright, I can just take my time carrying it back. Thank you!

After bidding my farewells to the owner, I took the kayak with me and left the campsite.

I hadn't made it fat when my arms started feeling sore. All I could do was to put the kayak on the ground and take a short breather.

As I spaced out, I suddenly heard a muffled sound coming from within the depths of the forest.

My ears tuned in to the sound in full alert. Whatever that was, it was by no means small.

Was it an animal? Or was it someone?

The crunching sound of leaves approached closer and closer. Now, I could tell without a doubt that those footsteps were most definitely human. And it sounded a little rushed; panicked, even.

Feeling a little uneasy, I couldn’t help but stand back up.

Then, a familiar figure emerged from the dense forest.

MC: …Evan!?

He seemingly breathes out a long sigh of relief upon spotting me. He quickly strode up to me.

Evan: I finally found you, at least.

Evan: I woke up in the morning to find you missing, and you never picked up even when I called. I was worried sick.

He looked as calm and unruffled as ever at first glance. The only difference was that he seemed a little out of breath.

This place isn’t close to our campsite at all. How long has he been searching for me out in the woods?

Thinking about it made me feel a little guilty.

I ended up telling him briefly about the unexpected situation I’d encountered in the commercial camp and everything before that.

MC: I left really early. I initially thought that I’d be back before you woke up, but I never thought that I’d take that long to get back...

MC: I’ve been busy this entire time so I didn’t have the time to check my phone. Sorry for worrying you.

Evan: It's okay. Just… Don't leave my side without saying anything next time, alright?

I nodded and lowered my eyes in embarrassment. Unexpectedly, I then noticed that he’d buttoned a button near the hem of his dress shirt wrong.

Having never seen Evan disregard his appearance in this manner before, I very nearly failed to suppress my snort of laughter.

Evan: Hm? What's the matter?

I shook my head, undoing that button and rebuttoning it right. It was only then that he noticed his slight gaffe. He laughed at his own mistake.

Evan: …Thank you.

Looking into his eyes, I couldn't hold back the urge to ask him the one thing that had been nagging at my mind.

MC: This place is not anywhere close to our campsite. How did you know I was here?

Evan: I couldn't contact you in the morning, so I searched around the tent to see if you left anything resembling a note behind.

Evan: I remembered that you seemed interested in this place when we passed by it yesterday, so I thought that maybe this was where you'd gone.

I hadn’t expected him to see completely through me as he cast a glance at the kayak on the ground.

MC: *Sigh* Why did you figure everything out like that? I wanted to surprise you!

Evan: Don't worry about it. This is also a surprise in and of itself, don't you think? Thank you for all the effort you've put in.

Evan: It feels pretty good to have your wish granted by someone else.

He gently took my hand in his, enveloping my palm in his bigger one, transmitting his unusual body warmth.

Evan: But I also want you to know that just you being by my side's more than enough for me.

My train of thought was disrupted by his tender gaze, making it hard for me to gather my thoughts together.

MC: But I don't think that's enough.

MC: You’re always taking care of others and listening to their wishes, but you can’t forget yourself and your wishes.

MC: I want to hear more of your wishes. You can always be a little greedier when you’re with me, Evan...

He looked at me for a fleeting second before suddenly closing in on me. He only stopped when my figure was completely enshrouded within his shadow.

Evan: Then, can I be greedy one last time?

MC: Huh…?

Not waiting for me to give him an answer, he advanced a step forwards, pulling me into a hug.

His arms were solidly wound around me, and the fragrance of wormwood that came with his embrace was lasting and stronger than ever.

The strength behind his action made it hard for me to reject him, hard for me to escape.

Oddly enough, I felt a little intoxicated by it, slowly closing my eyes.

❖☆———————————★❖

The next day, early morning. I woke up to the melodious singing of birds.

Evan was already awake, neatly dressed and sitting on the folded chair at the entrance, sipping on a cup of coffee.

Evan: Good morning. Sleep well last night?

MC: Brilliantly! I was so tired from walking so long yesterday that I fell asleep the moment my head met the pillow.

MC: Oh, right. It’ll take quite a long time to go back where we came, so let’s eat something, pack up, and leave as soon as possible!

Evan set his cup of coffee down,

Evan: Aren’t you forgetting something?

MC: Huh?

Evan: I recall you wanting to see bamboo piths, but we have yet to see any.

I froze, awkwardly laughing it off

That had originally been an excuse to get him outside and I’d totally forgotten about it.

MC: Hehe. I’m not that adamant about seeing bamboo piths.

MC: I only said that back then as an excuse to get you out so that you can relax.

MC: I heard that you had things rather rough before that so I was a little worried about you.

He looked slightly surprised. Then, he lowered his eyes, a warm smile catching onto the sides of his mouth.

Evan: So it was because of me.

Evan: Thank you for accompanying me here. I’m certainly much more relaxed now.

MC: But considering how you were previously… Are you really okay?

Evan: Yes. It’s probably not as bad as you’re thinking. I was just thinking about some old people and old things and felt a little glum about it.

Evan: I never thought that I’d end up alarming others.

MC: Why am I “others” now?

MC: Don’t bottle your troubles up to solve them yourself. You need to remember to share them with people close to you as well!

Evan: Okay. I will keep that in mind.

I still didn’t know what he was troubled by, but I suppose this was still within my expectations.

From my impression of him, he has always been strong. It was almost as if he was shouldering a mission that no one knew about, walking down a similarly obscured path.

After finishing breakfast, we packed and prepared to leave the forest.

We idly chatted with each other along the way until suddenly, Evan stopped short while we were passing through an area.

Following his gaze, I saw a unique-looking umbrella-shaped thing growing within the shrubbery’s shade.

Evan: See? We still managed to chance upon it.

MC: Wow, are all of these bamboo piths?

We walked over together, squatting beside the small white fungi.

It had a small black cap and had grown out a long white mesh skirt.

This was the first time I ever saw a bamboo pith growing in the soil. I widened my eyes in surprise, unwilling to blink as I drank in the sight. After observing it for a while, I finally raised a finger, reaching out to touch its “skirt”.

MC: It’s so wet and soft-looking! It’s adorable! Have you seen it before, Evan?

MC: I can’t believe you managed to recognize it at a glance!

Evan: Yes. It was back during the first time I’d been driven into the forest as a child.

Evan: I witnessed the law of the jungle and escaped from the jaws of death of a snake. I felt like the forest was a place filled with danger and wanted nothing but to leave the place the faster, the better.

Evan: Then, just as I was hungry and exhausted, I saw a bamboo pith.

Evan: At that time, I didn’t know what it was and if it was actually poisonous.

Evan: Deep in the throes of despair, I thought “why not just take it, eat it, and see what my fate turns out to be”?

MC: Evan…

Evan: But guess what I saw while I was hesitating?

Evan: I saw it growing its fungus skirt. All it took was a little effort on its part, and its little skirt grew longer and longer.

Evan: I stared at it blankly, in a daze. I didn’t even notice that my legs had gone numb from how long I’d stared at it.

He retracted himself from his memory palace, turning around to face me with a smile.

Evan: It was as simple as a little young lady, capable of encouraging me with its adorability and enchantments.

Evan: It made me understand that forest, in all its gloom and doom, still has its own little interesting spots.

Evan: And that one is only capable of seeing it by living on, don’t you think?

His expression was quiet, but within those calm eyes of his, I could see that little boy who’d struggled his hardest to remain strong. I felt my heart constrict slightly at that and moved to hold his hand tightly in my own.

MC: Evan, that’s all in the past. You’re no longer that helpless little boy.

Evan: No, I’m fine.

Evan: I might have forgotten even this if we hadn’t seen the bamboo piths today.

Evan: It feels a little unbelievable when I think back on it now. It was a memory plagued by darkness, yet it still held its own beautiful moments.

I felt a pang of sorrow creep into my heart. Words of comfort were right at the tip of my tongue, yet I felt like they’d be completely helpless.

This man before me, strong as a warrior; someone who’d been forced to face life-or-death decisions from a very young age… Maybe he wasn’t as complicated as I initially thought he was.

There are many reasons why one would choose death, but to choose life? The reason was simple; just a little spark was required, and Evan was no exception.

MC: I forgot who said it, but someone once said that the meaning of existence that people spend their entire lives seeking out is actually hidden in the simple things.

MC: Evan, won’t you say that you might end up thinking similarly as well one day?

MC: You might not be able to find it immediately, but that’s fine. I will accompany you in your search for it, no matter how long it takes.

Evan fixed me with a profound look before stretching out his hand and reverently crossing it over my own.

Evan: Alright. Together we shall be.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 4 + 6 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 7 + 8 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ☆Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Prologue)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #陆沉 #Evan #For Night For Revolution #繁荫秘语 #Umbrae Secrets

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emma-nation · 4 years ago

Text

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela x oc #resident evil fanfiction #the devil in i

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enigma-im · 4 years ago

Text

Fifth Day of Christmas...

Trope: Snowed in (NSFW) Relationship: Goliath x Human Word Count: 7,808

Swords clash in a symphony within the Mid-lands woods. The Goliaths have come from the mountains to ambush our camp. We never assumed we wouldn't be safe, especially with winter coming. Who would have guessed the Goliaths would be so bold as to challenge an incoming blizzard just to slaughter a few of us. It's truly too bold, too stupid.

I look out at the cluster of people, the Goliaths standing high. It's clear we have the number advantage, but they have strength. Men and women surround a single giant just to be beaten away with a single blow. It's ridiculous. The cold bites at my lungs as I charge into battle, joining two others attempting to befall the seven-foot man.

Together we swipe and swing at the revolting beast, aiming low in hopes of knocking him down. One soldier gets a jab in as the goliath blocks a blow from another. We both take the chance to cut at the knees. The goliath falls to a kneel, growling in frustration before swinging wide and knocking the other two away. I manage to stumble back into the cold dirt. Attempting to get back to my feet I see the goliath has beaten me to it, standing above the two fallen soldiers with a triumphed sneer. He reels back, aiming for the closest one. With a fatal swoop, he befalls the first one, spilling their blood to the dirt below.

I can't be shocked anymore, the sight an unforgettable one. It's almost numbing now. I quickly stand, gripping my sword in a harsh grip. The goliath reels his arm back for another blow to the woman at his feet. Working on pure adrenaline I launch at him, digging my shoulder into the wound on his side. The goliath cries out, pushing me aside as he cradles the bleeding wound. I don't let him get an edge, doing what I can to get him away from the injured soldier still laying at his feet. Stomping towards him I kick my leg high, digging my booted heel into the cut on the back of his knee. He falls to a kneel once more.

"You petulant worm," he snarls, reaching out for me. I try to step back, failing as he grabs my heel. He drags me towards him, standing to dangle me headfirst above the ground. My sword falls from my grip, hitting the dirt with a soft thud. I can't pay it any mind as this behemoth pulls me higher in the air. Not bothering to think I do the first thing I can. The wound on his side catches my attention. I drag my fist bag, launching it towards his side for a quick jab.

He wails again, dropping me harshly to the floor. My shoulder pops as the dirt gives no resistance. I watch the man stumble, breathing heavily as he clenches his side. Our eyes meet for just a moment, a few flurries dancing between us. I don't take the time to listen to whatever hateful words he wishes to spit my way. I can see the bloodlust and fury in his eyes, I am his sole target now and nothing is going to stop him.

I shuffle off the floor quickly, trying to look for my sword before the man can react. He swings for me, growling like a beast as he does. I stumble back, still having no sight of my sword. At his next attempt at my life, I give up the search. Knowing the losing battle before me I do what a soldier should never do. I run.

Twisting away I book it away from the fight, running through the tree with the cold air stabbing at my lungs. A voice screams 'coward' in my head but my will to live is stronger. I hear mighty footsteps follow me, calling out with grotesque promises. I don't make it far till I'm knocked on my stomach, my shoulder throbbing with the impact and weight. I'm twisted to my back, the man hovering above with a sadistic grin and sneer of pain. I can feel his blood dripping onto my clothes, the only warmth to be found in these woods.

"I have you now," he grabs at my throat," such a poltroon to run from battle." his fingers dig into my neck, choking me easily. I scratch at his arm, pry at his finger, reach for his face. Nothing works, the corners of my eyes darkening. With a last-ditch effort, I writhe and kick, aiming for anything to get some leverage. I don't want to die, please don't let me die here alone.

I kick at his hip, him wincing a bit. With that last bit of focus, I jab the toe of my boot into his side, blessing the fallen soldier for the well-aimed wound. He barks out a cry of pain, his fingers loosening enough for me to take a greedy gulp of biting air. I kick again, screaming a war cry as I push him off. It's a feat in its self to get him off.

I roll onto all fours, breathing hard to get the black dots out of my vision. Coughing while he wheezes, it's the only moment we have. Getting to my feet first I look over to him, he's kneeling by a decline. I take a few wobbly steps towards him, exhausted at this point. He looks up to me, trying to get to his feet with an angry growl. I'm surprised he makes it, walking on equally uneasy legs.

"I'm going to enjoy spilling your blood, little human," he seethes," it has become my right."

"Shut up," I pant.

With the last bit of energy, I have I run to him. I thud against his stomach, grab at his knees, and dig my nails into his still bleeding wound. He falls back, taking me with him. His back takes the brunt of our weight, me being launched off as he tumbles backward. We roll and skip down the steep incline of the hill, hitting every rock, root, and tree to be found. My shoulder aches as do other parts of my body. As my head meets a rather pointed rock do I wish for death.

A groan breaks through my haze. I open my eyes, looking up to trees and fat snowdrops. A few land on my lashes, my eyes flickering shut. I feel like shit. My body is throbbing, my view rather fuzzy, and my fingers numb. Another groan catches my attention, coming from above me. I tilt my head back, looking at the man trying to sit up. I startle at the blue marking curling down his bald head. My stomach lurches as I launch upwards, barely getting to my feet with the small amount of energy I have left. I know once I'm somewhere safe I'll be down for the count.

"Worms, all of you," the man whimpers," bested by a worm, me?" I watch him pathetically try to move. He looks worse than I feel, his side leaking life into the frosty debris below. The wound has grown since I last remember, stretching over his stomach. He tries to sit up, clenching his hands in the dirt, and seething every attempt.

He finally just lays there, looking at me with such disgust. I nearly feel nothing at the sight, just numb to this whole experience. He will die soon, bleeding out or freezing from the elements. I may do just the same, looking to the unclimbable incline and empty woods. Perhaps I could be so lucky to find shelter somewhere, a journey that may cost me much. I sigh.

"retched, the lot of you," he spits," may the gods damn you to the foulest parts of hell. To have your inners stood across miles. Be cursed for what you have done to me today!" it's almost sad to watch him like this. The final words of a dying man.

"Shut up," I look around some more. My best bet is to just start walking, look for some shelter. If the gods could bless me today. I start walking. The man curses and snarls at me, shouting his last bit of distraught like a pathetic animal. I walk on.

It isn't long until I come across a cabin, boarded up for the winter. It's promising. I walk up to the nailed in planks, reaching out to attempt to pry them. My shoulder screams in protest, as I do I. cradling my arm I look to the door. I can't get in. I look to the windows, they too are boarded. This close to shelter and I'm left to perish.

In the distance, I can still hear the shouts of the stubborn man. Surely he was to die by now. I shake my head, admiring his strength even in death. Thinking of a plan I circling the building, finding nothing but stacks of firewood resting against the side.

"Bollocks," I grumble. I'm not strong enough to get in…but someone else might.

I snap my head in the direction of the insolent man. Could he help me get in? no, he is too wounded. But if I treat said wounds, maybe he could be of some use? Would he be strong enough though? I cry out in frustration. It seems it's the only chance I have. Why not spend my last few hours with an enemy?

I hobble back towards the hill, hearing the man before spotting him. He is left exactly where he started. It seems he hasn't tried to make any progress. His head snaps to me, baring his teeth as I near.

"Come to finish me off, human," he barks.

"If I help you, do you think you can pry out some nailed boards before we freeze to death," I ask, not bothering to waste any time. He scoffs, turning away.

"Why should I accept help from you? Do I offer my assistance just for you to stab me in the back the first chance you get," he asks, sounding awfully stupid. I'll let myself think it’s the lack of blood causing his idiotic suggestion.

"Wouldn't you rather take that than dying in the dirt like a forgotten man," I ask, shivering as a breeze flows by.

"I rather die with my honor than betray my kind to help you," he barks a laugh," I'm faithful to my people unlike you, you poltroon scum-."

"Shut up," I interrupt," pride on the shelf, help or don’t?"

He glares at me, fingers clenching and unclenching at his side. The offering was rather nice in my opinion, even if the lack of trust is there. For now, I need him and he needs me, let's not make it more complicated than that.

"Fine," he grunts," if you can help then so will I."

I don't bother with words, collapsing to my knee with a wince beside him. The minimal supplies I have attached to my person is unceremoniously dropped to the ground. I don't bother cleaning his wound, taking a small amount of time to wrap it instead. He groans and whimpers like a child, nearly reaching for me to stop. I ignore him, stuffing wrapped bandages against his side before covering it all with wrapping. I hope the pressure is enough to forgo any more blood loss on the way to the cabin. I just need him strong enough to pull some wood, nothing more.

I'm little to no help getting him off the ground. I try to tug him up with my good arm but the jostling runs to the other anyway. He manages mostly on his own to get up, standing on his own two feet. His hand covers his side and he stumbles onward.

We walk like a bunch of drunks towards the cabin, nearly collapsing as we stop at the door. I watch as he easily pries the boards off the door, ripping them off as easily as ripping paper. With the wood cast aside, he opens the door and walks in. I follow after, annoyed at the equally cold interior.

"I'm going to get a fire started, you can rest for a bit. You have done enough," I say as I rub at my arms. I look around the room, spotting the heath with stacks of wood on the side. Before I can even take a step there I heard a loud thud. I jump, looking towards the goliath in fear. To my surprise he isn't standing, having collapsed on the ground.

I sigh," I thank you for your help but if you die in the middle of the room I'm going to be pissed."

That night was the longest in my life. Nearly getting killed in battle, then nearly dying from exposure, and now trying to start a fire with a broken shoulder. Hauling the wood was a challenge in itself, now trying to spark the flint. I would give anything to be able to roll over and rest but there is still much to be done.

I start a fire, warming myself for a bit before searching around the cabin. Finding a bedroom with blankets and a kitchen with jarred food. I send praise to the gods above. I drag all the linen to the main room, making two cots for the goliath and myself. I don't bother trying to drag him closer to the fire, exhausting all my courtesy towards him. Wrapping him in a blanket after checking his wounds is all I can bother within one night.

With my vision tunneling, I lay down in my cot and take a well-earned rest.

I startle awake the next morning when I catch the Goliath watching me sleep. His gaze is contemplative, to my surprise, but still rather brutish. I stare at him as he stares at me, not sure what his mood is this morning.

"you didn't kill me," he starts bluntly.

"That I did not," I answer.

"Why," he demands.

"it would not have benefitted me," I snuggle further into the warmth of the blanket.

He huffs," didn't think killing your enemy before they get the chance to kill isn't beneficial?"

"depends," I shrug," are you planning on killing me?"

He regards me for a few moments, his jaw ticking," No."

The goliath begins to stand, looking steadier than last night. His blood-soaked shirt is stiff and ripped. He takes a large step towards me, I flinch. Though I reluctantly trust his words, the years of fighting have left much ingrained. The recoil jostles my shoulder, making me bite back a whimper.

"Hurt," he asks, walking around me towards the fire. I can't pay him any mind as I breathe through the pain that has worsened from last night. Rolling onto my back I try all I can to remain still, the throbbing starting anew.

"I asked you a question," the goliath growls.

"Yes," I bark.

He chuckles," good. I'd hate to be the only one." I glare at his back. Slurs begin to roll towards my lips but I hold them back. Though he was near death before, I am in more pain now.

I hear the goliath poking at the fire, throwing another log in before stomping towards me. On reflex, I flinch, wincing again. He crouches down beside me, grabbing at my arm and jerking me upright. I spit out a curse, whimpering like a child. His meaty fingers poke and prod till I'm near tears.

"Stop," I shout. He glares, taking his hands off me.

"it's dislocated," he sneers," it has to be popped back into place." he reaches for me again, I twist away.

"Don't you fucking touch me," I snarl, shuffling farther and farther away from him. He remains kneeling by the cot, scoffing at my departure.

"Fine," he slaps his hands to his thighs," deal with it yourself."

I watch him trot off somewhere out of sight, stomping all the while. His heavy steps echo around the cabin, shaking the walls a bit. I'm impressed he hasn't knocked some of the decorations off the walls. Hell, I'm impressed he can stand up straight without hitting his head. I hear some clanking of glass, telling me of his location. With him out of the room, I breathe easy.

My arm makes me feel useless and I try to keep busy. Sorting out supplies and checking the fire becomes tedious with one arm. I take to looking at the piling snow outside, it already reaching around a foot high. Even without the blizzard out there, I had no intentions of leaving, it seems neither did the goliath as he licks his wounds in the main bedroom. We keep to ourselves most of the day, him coming back as the day grows to night. Even then he remains in the farthest corner from me. Not that I mind, keep the brute away less we break this unsteady truce.

I try to head to the cot, struggling to lay down with every angle hurting my shoulder. I try to bite back whimpers, not letting him get the satisfaction of hearing them. The hardwood is uncomfortable, so much so that I consider going to the bedroom to sleep on the mattress. The threat of freezing keeps me where I am.

I wiggle around enough that the goliath lets out an annoyed sigh," if you would let me pop it into place then you would have a better time getting comfortable."

"Piss off," I grumble.

He huffs again," you humans are too damn stubborn for your own good. I'm sure this war would have been dealt with years ago if your people would stop acting like children."

I scoff under my breath, not falling for the bait. He continues anyway.

"I'm tempted to see how long you'll keep use of your arm. With us snowed in I'm sure you won't last till the sun melts it all. As weak as you all are I'm nearly impressed with your resilience to help. At this point I believe killing you would be a mercy as amputation would get you dropped from service," he rambles on. I never knew goliaths could be so mouthy, saying nothing of importance in a conversation. He grates on my nerves till the pain of hearing him is worse than the pain in my shoulder. His constant insults nearly make me consider taking my chances outside.

As he goes on his next spiel I sit up, glaring at him as I stand. With a stubborn amount of determination, I charge at the nearest wall, slamming my shoulder against it. A loud pop echoes around the room, silencing the annoying goliath. I wheeze against the wall, panting hard as I slide down to the floor. Tears roll down my cheeks as a sob wracks over my body. My whole arm throbs, telling me of my success and idiocrasy.

I look to the goliath, blowing a loose strand of hair out of my face. He looks surprised, then impressed. It's short-lived though as he looks down at the sword he is fiddling with, having found it on the wall.

"It seems humans are stupid above all else," he mumbles. I huff, thunking my head against the wall.

The silence begins to bug me as the days go on. After his baiting, he hasn't said much else. During the day he sticks to the bedroom, coming back to the main room at night. I try to keep busy, running out of things to do besides count rations and look out at the white landscape. The fire has been kept lit all day, our woodpile beginning to run low. I know there is a large stack outside but the idea of going out there chills me to the bone. At some point I'm going to have to, that thought keeps me busy.

We sit in our cots one night, staring off into space.

"Our fire is going to die before the snow melts," he says casually. I lazily look at him, watching him look to the heath. The glow of the fire gives him a beautiful glow, lighting his markings like a painting.

"there's some chopped wood outside," I answer. He nods.

"I'll retrieve some tomorrow morning, give it enough time to dry out," he states.

"no," I glare at him," I'll grab it, you can't be trying to get your giant self through that snow. Besides, you can reopen your cut lifting those logs."

He glares back," like you can do any better with your arm?"

I sit up," I can do better than you getting through the snow. So what I lack in strength I make up in time."

"by the gods woman," he shouts," can you cease your insolence for one day? Your fire is admirable but it will get you killed. You will rest, do I make myself clear?"

His scolding demand boils my blood. Who does he think he is making such commands? I'm not his to push around or control.

"No, you don't. I will go out there with or without your permission because you aren't my father or commander," I shout. I nearly get up to grab the wood that second, my ire demanding action.

"This is the thing with you humans, we try to do something kind and you basically spit in our faces," he slaps his hands on his thigh," there is no more discussion, I will get the wood in the morning."

"No, you-," he interrupts me.

"End of discussion, now go to bed," he scolds. Before I can say anything more, he rolls over in his cot. I want to scream in frustration, feeling like a child at this moment. Reluctantly I roll over and go to bed as well, fuming as I do.

I aim to wake up early, sneaking out before he can wake up. He still rests in his cot as I roll out of mine. I smile in victory as I make my way to the door. Wrapping my blanket around myself I head out to start the mission of carving a path through the snow. As I reach for the handle the door swings open, forcing me back a step.

"Morning," the goliath greets me, holding an armful of wet wood. I scowl up at him, blowing a stray hair out of my face. He snickers, walking past and setting the wood down by the hearth.

"How'd you wake up before me," I throw the blanket down in my cot. He organizes the already large stack of wood, spacing them out to dry faster.

"Your snoring kept me up, I was already awake," he shrugs.

I sulk, dropping back in my bedding with arms crossed. He looks over his shoulder, laughing as he catches sight of my scowl.

Today he actually spends time in the main room, warming up by the fire and checking on the wood. Minimal words are exchanged but still better than before. The reluctant truce feels less reluctant now.

Night falls and the logs still aren't dry. The small amount we have left can barely keep the fire blazing through the night. We both stare at the hearth.

"We can bundle up more," I offer.

"There aren't any more blankets," he says.

"We can lay closer to the fire, that might help," I try. The idea of freezing during the night isn't an ideal one. The small fire could keep us warm, but just barely. We can try to use the wet wood but it risks snuffing out the flame we already have. I can't think of much else to do.

"we're going to have to huddle for warmth," he sighs. I snap my head towards him, confused by the suggestion.

"Huddle for warmth? Like, share a cot," I ask. He nods. "Well, that's definitely out of the question," I shut him down.

"excuse me," he barks," why is that?"

"I'm not going to share a cot with you. Not even a few days ago you tried killing me, cursing my name to the gods in hopes that they will gut me and spread my entrails for miles," I shake my head," so no, I don't trust you."

"so, you trust that I won't kill you in your sleep but sharing a cot is where you draw the line," he asks, a smile curling his lips. I glare up at him, not appreciating his tone.

"It wasn't like I had a choice," I snide back.

He grins," it's not like you have much of a choice now, too."

I squint at him," you're enjoying this aren't you?"

"not at all," he fights back his smile," having to cuddle up next to my enemy isn't the highlight of my week."

"then it's settled," I clap my hands," we don't share a bed and we just risk the chance of freezing. I love it, glad we're on the same page." I stand up to walk away. He snatches my hand, tugging me back to the floor.

"No, not agreed. I can swallow my pride enough to do this and so can you. I'm not so stubborn to put my wants over my needs," he bites back. I glare daggers at him, he gives it right back. The battle of will begin, me debating on the weight of his words. I'd rather share the damn cot and keep warm but the problem is doing it with him. This truce is only here long enough for us to survive then get back to the war. I won't let myself sit here and pretend that we could be friends. No, that's out of the question. Still, we don't have to be friends to survive. I just have to bite my tongue and get on with it.

"fine," I shout," grab your bedding, it's larger than mine."

He jumps up, piling his sheets in his arms before dropping them in front of the fireplace. We sort it all out, layering some on the floor to keep the chill out. I snuggle under the blanket, looking up at him as he removes his shirt.

'Whoa, whoa," I yell," don't do that." he throws the dirty rag away and crawls into bed. His body gives my heart pause. The wound on his side has healed very nicely, looking more healed than I would have figured for only a few days. His stomach is toned, along with his chest. The fire allows shadows to dance over his torso, adding another level of appeal to his massive frame.

"skin to skin is better to keep warm. Don't have to waste time warming up the clothes," he explains, reaching out and tugging at my shirt. I slap him away, feeling more girlish at this moment than at any point in my life.

"No, no, I'll be keeping mine on," I curl my arms against my chest. He snorts, letting me be as he drops beside me. I watch him, still conflicted on letting this go on. Everything is so confusing. The goliath looks… well, attractive, lounging against the bed. His angry features look softer at the moment, almost relaxed. I don't like seeing him this way.

I lay upon the blankets, turning towards the fire. I jump when his hand curls over my stomach and tugs me against his body. He is so warm. It takes a considerable amount of effort to relax, trying my damndest to fall asleep. I close my eyes and try to pretend the warmth coming from my back isn't his.

Sleep eventually tries to take its claim. My mind fading in and out of rest. As I nearly give in I feel something press against my shoulder, foreign words being mumbled near my ear. His hand fists at my shirt, his head nuzzling against mine. I feel him kiss the back of my neck, mumbling more soft words to my back. I gasp at the feeling, my cheeks tingling from more than the fire. He stiffens behind me. Neither of us moves, neither of us makes a sound.

Nothing is said as we both pretend it never happened. Falling off into tense sleep.

The next morning is…awkward. He wakes up before me, jostling me awake as he runs out of the room. I believe he holds up in the bedroom but I can't tell or gain the courage to check. I'm in a flurry of thoughts as the tingle on the back of my neck remembers his lips. Why did he do that? Surely he hates me, or the most tolerates me. His constant disrespect to my species as a whole has shown his true feelings. For fuck sakes, he tried to kill me not even a week ago.

I circle on the thought the whole day, trying to make some sort of sense of the small bout of affection. It isn't till later that I think about my feelings towards him. I don't hate him, that's clear. I just have a bit of distrust for him. The war has been going on for years now, starting over something as trivial as land. It's grown into this hatred that's on sight. I've killed a few of his people and he has killed a few of mine. As is life as a soldier. But is that a factor now? This little bubble we have created seems to have made those rules disappear. He is domineering but kind, loud but sweet. I don't hate him, I just don't trust him.

He doesn't come back in as the night falls, staying in his room. The wood has dried enough to be used, keeping the fire large. I end up going to bed without seeing him that whole day.

The next morning I wake expecting to see him. I actually hope to see him, to get some sort of guidance on what to do around him. I look around the room, not seeing any evidence of him being here. I sigh, a bit sad at the fact he locked himself away. It's weird to be so disturbed at his absents. I ignore it and get on with the day.

The snow outside has begun melting, the sun shining brightly through the trees. It's still a good two feet and dangerous to venture in but the time here is coming to an end soon. As I watch the water drip off the roof, I grow nervous. I'll have to try to head back to my platoon soon, getting back to the war. That thought ruins my day.

The sun sets and the goliath still isn't here. Nearly two days now and I've heard nothing but some stomping around. At least I know he's still alive. I feel antsy now, tossing and turning in my cot. Why is he still avoiding me? It wasn't that bad what happened, is he embarrassed? Maybe I should go break the ice, make some peace before we part ways.

I shuffle out of my cot, wrapping the blanket around myself. Walking further into the house I stop in front of the closed bedroom door. What am I doing? Perhaps it's better to turn back and pretend nothing happened. Pretend that he didn't hold me close and whisper sweet-sounding words. A lapse of judgment happens to us all. I sigh.

Grabbing the knob I open the door. I shuffle into the darkroom, the light of the moon guiding me towards the bed. A figure sits up in the bed, glowing partially in the light. I walk around the bed, crawling in beside him. His large hands grab my hips to tug me closer. All thoughts evade me as I follow his lead. I throw my leg over his hip, straddling his lap. His hand glides up my back, petting over my braid. He digs his fingers into my hair.

"I wante-," he tries to speak. Words aren't important now. Without much thought I quiet him with my lips, taking his for mine. It's his turn to gasp, freezing while I slant my mouth against his. His fingers clench, tugging on my hair, reacting swiftly. His kiss is sweet. It's a warmth I've craved all day. I pet at his chest, touching the cold skin peeking out the tears of his shirt.

"you're cold," I mumble against him. He forces me back, licking at my lips. I trace his tongue with my own.

"you're so warm," he smiles.

His freezing fingers dig under my shirt to send a chill down my spine. I shutter in his hands, relishing in his touch trailing up to my chest. He kisses me as he twists our positions. Slowly, he guides me onto my back as he crawls over me. I don't bother thinking, wanting to focus on his touch.

He removes his shirt while I shove mine off. We smile at one another, leaning back into another kiss. I pull him close, straying off the cold with his heat. His hips slant against mine, grinding hard into my crotch. His hardening cock brings a zap of need to my body, craving more and more.

We can't wait a second more, peeling our pants off and guiding his large cock to my wet heat. I'm almost hesitant in taking him, his length and girth way bigger than I'm comfortable with. When he pecks my cheek I trust him to be gentle. I take his cock with a choked cry, his grunts playing around the quiet room. As he bottoms out we both take in a much-needed breath.

"Varoth," he says suddenly. I look at him bemused.

"What," I ask, grabbing at his arms.

"My name," he smiles," Varoth." I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. This whole time I never knew his name.

I chuckle," It's nice to meet you Varoth, I'm Evelina. You can call me Eve." he grabs my hand, holding my fingers in his palm as he lifts my knuckles to his lips.

"it's a pleasure, Eve," he presses a kiss to my skin. It's silly and sweet, I want to hit him or kiss him.

With our introductions out the way, he begins to pump. His hips slowly undulate, grinding into my hips with every descent. The feeling of him is beautiful, warm, and intoxicating. Part of me realizes the taboo of it all, sleeping with the enemy. Yet, I can't bring myself so care.

He fucks me like he cares, petting along my sides and worshipping every inch of me with his touch. His lips press every space he can reach, sucking and nipping to his heart's content. I can't look away, watching in awe as he lazily pumps his hips and kisses my chest. Not being able to take it any longer I drag him up, meeting his eyes with a smile. My thumb pets at his cheek before I slant my lips against his.

"you're so beautiful," he purrs against my mouth," so strong and determined."

"Yea," I ask, licking his top lip," I thought you hated how determined I was." his hands trail down to my hips, gripping them to buck harder in his next thrust.

"I hated how it pleased me," he groans," everything about you draws me in. That's the only thing I can hate about you." I flutter around him, twitching at his praise. His face clenches up for a moment, showing his blissful torment.

We make love this night, no doubt about it. Our slowly climbing peaks don't need to be rushed as we just enjoy one another. We kiss and bite, mumbling praises to the other as the fire inside stokes to an inferno. I break first, almost startled by the sudden pleasure. I writhe and cry out, clenching around him. He doesn't falter as he watches me fall apart. It's not till I'm laying exhausted in the sheet does he take his own end. His hips clap against mine, taking his fill before spilling in me. He groans long and loud, collapsing atop of me.

Sometime later we lay cuddled in bed. He curls around my back, hugging me at the waist. His arm pillows my head, allowing me to play with his hand. I compare our sizes, amazed at how easily he can fit my hand in his. His large fingers please me, them curling over mine.

"Were you embarrassed about the other night," I ask as I trace the lines of his palm.

He hums," I didn't know you were still awake."

"so you decided to hide in here till the snow melted," I tease. He grabs my hand in his, intertwining out fingers.

"It sounds childish when you say it like that."

"Well, it was," I say. He nips at my shoulder in retort.

"You have a power over me that makes me act like a whelp. I can't help but act a fool when you're near," he pecks my shoulder. I hum, smiling to myself.

We fall asleep in the cold room, keeping each other warm. It's the best sleep I've gotten since we got here. Though my toes feel near frozen and my thighs feel sticky, it's the most restful night.

Come morning I wake to a breeze ghosting over my back. I shiver, rolling over to snuggle into Varoth. Cold is all I'm met with. I stretch my arm out, feeling the empty bed. Confused I bolt upright, looking over the vacant area. I look around the room. His clothes are missing along with him. Perhaps he is already by the fire.

I get dressed and walk out into the main room. The only thing that greets me is a blazing fireplace, even the cots are cleaned up and put away.

"Varoth," I call out.

Nothing.

I search the whole cabin, an unsettling feeling curling in my chest. When I open the front door I get my answer. The snow has melted through the morning, coming to a manageable height. In the snow is footprints leading out and away. My jaw ticks as I slam the door shut.

Guess it's over now.

I pack up my things numbly. The hike through the woods is lonely, not even the birds keep me company. It's well towards sunset when I finally find civilization, a small town a few miles away from the woods. I make contact with the crew stationed here and get back to my life before everything.

The next few weeks feel hollow. Working has lost its appeal, it's passion. I fought for a purpose, to be free of the goliath's anger. To reclaim the lands they stole from us. It was a solid following, but now? Every fight I can't even bother to look at them, seeing the humanity in every single one. What's the point of reclaiming the mountains? Why try to take that away from them when it's all they have?

It's a month later when I resign from the war, dishonorably discharged. I try to live out of the path of the war but it seems there it's not much of an escape. The people still rant and rave about the goliaths. I pick up and leave, making it to a neutral town far away from it all. Starting a new life in a new land.

I make a career for myself as a blacksmith's assistant. The years of hard labor in the service have toughed me up for such back-breaking work. I offer the large orc my help in fetch tasks, at least till I learn enough to be of actual use.

"Eve," the orc grunts," you don't mind heading over to the lumbermill to get me some wood for handles?'

"Of course not," I jump up," anything to not be sitting in this sweltering heat."

The older man laughs, wiping sweat from his brow," you're telling me."

With an objective, I make my way down the village. The small hunting village is home to a melting pot of creatures. It's almost a haven for all. Orcs and dwarves work together along with humans and elves. It's nice living somewhere so accepting.

I make it to the mill at the edge of town. The saw is heard from down the road, the crew already hard at work. I walk around till I spot someone chopping wood in the center of a pile of logs. He is a pasty man, large and strong. I call out to him.

"Excuse me, sir," I shout over the saw. The man launches his ax down again, splitting the log easily. With that done he glances over his shoulder. I almost recoil at the sight, my traitorous heart lurching.

"Evelina," Varoth gawks. His deep gravelly voice nearly calms my nerves. It's nice to see him, at the same time that it isn't. I almost contemplate running.

"Varoth," I growl. He tosses his ax, walking over with his loud steps. His quick movement startles me into taking a step back. He comes to me fast, grabbing at my arms before I can race off. I fight in his hold, angry and frustrated with him. He left and it still stings. I never let myself think about it, labeling the memories as forbidden in my mind. He pulls me flush to his sweaty chest, my feet dangling off the ground. His mouth captures mine in a fierce embrace.

For a moment I can forget my ire, melting into his touch like a lovesick woman. I give myself that few seconds, and only that.

I push him away, shaking out of his arms and falling to the ground before slapping him across the face. He barely flinches, his head staying still.

"You don't get to do that," I stab my finger into his chest," you have no right!"

"I know," he grunts, looking at me with awe. He doesn't look mad or confused, but happy. It plucks at my nerves and my heart.

"Fuck you, Varoth," I spit," you don't get to grab me like that and kiss me as nothing happen. Like you didn't leave me alone in that bed, confused and worried. Do you understand how much it hurt to see your footsteps in the snow that morning? I had to suck it up for weeks, pretend that what happened never happened. I had to fight on like my enemy doesn't look just like you." a frustrated tear rolls down my cheek. I wipe it away and continue, letting out the anger and hate I've hidden for weeks.

"You made me so confused! I knew what I was before we fell off that hill, I knew what I fought for. Then you came and fucked me up, fucked me over. I was left conflicted and scared as I walked back to the life I knew. But it really wasn't the life I knew, it was all wrong. I had to drop everything I used to know and start all over again because you fucking kissed my neck and whispered sweet words. So fuck you, Varoth," I vent," fuck you."

Speaking felt like opening an old wound. I always imagined what would happen if I saw Varoth again. I thought I would just walk by him and pretend that nothing went on between us, to hold my head high and ignore him. I wanted to be better than this, to care as little as he did when he left. I hiccup, snorting back snot. I can't do that. That night meant more to be than him it seems.

I shutter as sobs try to wrack my body, the months finally catching up to me. Varoth tugs me into his arms, petting at my back as I cry. I beat at his chest, wanting to be angry, but all I feel is tired.

"I'm sorry, Eve," he crouches down to his knees, burying his face against my hair," I couldn't stay, we both know that. Saying goodbye would have been too hard for me. I was a coward, and for that I'm sorry." I let him hold me, stealing his comfort as it's what I'm owed.

"You should have said something," I mumble, exhausted, against his shoulder," I felt so used that morning. Like that night meant nothing to you. I could only think that you truly saw me as some low life human to be used and discard."

He recoils at my words, reaching up and cupping my cheeks. His eyes dart between mine, his brow pinched in concern.

"That night meant everything," he says sternly," I am just a coward who couldn't face the consequence of the next day. Do not think any longer that I wanted to use you because that is the biggest lie I can think of."

I can't help but snort in amusement," I guess you're the real poltroon."

He smiles, softening as he speaks," yea, I guess I am."

We stand in the lumberyard just staring at one another, so much left to be said. Yet, all I can think about is kissing those plump pale lips.

"Varoth," I cup his hand against my cheek," why are you here?"

His thumb pets under my eye," I moved here shortly after the snow completely melted. I couldn't fight in a war I no longer believed in."

"I understand that," I nod bitterly," should I be so bold to assume I'm the reason for that change?"

He smiles, leaning down to drop his head against mine," of course you are. Every change I've made since meeting you is your fault." I choke out a laugh, more tears rolling down my cheeks. Nothing stops me from reaching up and kissing his cheek, his nose, his lips. I've missed him. He returns the gesture, making a smile curl up my face as he kisses me everywhere.

"I have yearned for you every day," he kisses my cheek," scolding myself for being such a fool ever since."

I giggle from his attention," you have been known to be an idiot, but I've missed you too."

He stops his kisses, rolling his forehead against mine," do you think I'd be allowed to make up for lost times?"

"I don't know," I look to him with a teasing glint in my eye," you still have to make up for leaving me cold and alone in bed."

"That I do," he shuts his eyes," perhaps spend my whole life making up for that mistake."

It's a long while before we can gain the courage to split apart, making plans to meet up after work. He helps me carry the wood to the blacksmith, catching me up on his life since he found the village. I can't stop the smiling that graces my lips.

I think everything is going to be a-okay.

#12 days of christmas #12 tropes for christmas #Enigma-IM #exophilia #monster boyfriend #goliath boyfriend #snowed in

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ancientwastedlores · 4 years ago

Text

Undone by “Darling”

REQUEST (from @november-solarstorms): Celebrating another year of this earth being braced by Tom Hiddleston's presence! Lol. Might I make a prompt request? I feel as though it would be interesting to read from Loki's POV to explore the dynamics between him and a human female who is just as intelligent as he. She has a sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Her sarcastic and clever nature enable her to out-banter Tony Stark, the king of snark himself (may he rest in peace). But she is also just as flirtatious and salacious. She never blushes, never falters, and is incredibly clever. You can decide the nature of their encounter. Really im just in it for a good game of cat and mouse.

A/N: Okay, I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!! And yeah, this will run a bit longer than my usual fics lol. Also, there IS a Loki POV, just keep reading thaaanks <3

WARNINGS: none.

WORD COUNT: 1,932

____________________________________________________________________

Undone by “Darling”

17 hours and 6 white chocolate mochas later, it was finally ready - an upgraded version of Corvus Glaive’s glaive, this one spec-ed out to your fancies and requirements. It was a beast, and definitely not something Nick Fury would ever let you play around with, even if you made it.

Satisfied with your work, you remove your safety goggles and grin at Stark, who is working on his own weapon he scavenged from the Black Order.

‘I’m done!’ you say triumphantly, causing him to look up and groan. ‘How did you finish before me!?’ he lowers his glasses and looks at your weapon. ‘I’m smarter’ you say. ‘I went to MIT’ ‘And I didn’t, yet here we are, both in the same lab’.

He shakes his head, not unlike a petulant child, causing you to laugh.

‘How far along are you?’ you ask. ‘Still running diagnostics’. ‘Still!?’ ‘Have you seen the size of his hammer?’ he gestures to Cull Obsidian’s chain hammer on his work table, but the innuendo doesn’t escape you and you grin at him. He facepalms. ‘Y/n, for god’s sake...’ ‘You’re just tired, or you’d appreciate the joke too’.

You stretch your weary body and let out a deep breath. You’d test the weapon out tomorrow, but for now, you need a nap.

‘Take a load off, Stark. Hammer’ll be there tomorrow’. ‘Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you...’ he puts his goggles back on and get to work.

Loki’s POV:

Humans are surprising, but I always knew that. I never thought them boring, even if my brother says I do. Humans are of so little power but such incredible resilience that it’s frankly astonishing. I am inclined to believe that sometimes resilience is just stupidity... in most cases, I am right. But that’s not to say I haven’t come across some truly brave people.

Take the Avengers Tower, for example.

Just in here, you have Y/n, a brave soldier with the mind of an intergalactic scavenger, and I do mean that as a compliment. She’s awfully clever, she can build better than Stark, and has a track record of finishing every mission to perfection and before time. And then you have the Super Soldier Steve Rogers, a big muscled, big hearted idiot who often mistakes challenging our enemies for bravery and morality.

The two couldn’t be more different, but they get along like siblings. Not siblings like Thor and I... better adjusted, perhaps.

They sit in front of me, talking about some mission while they play Chess. Her moves are quick but calculated, his take more time because he’s more interested in telling his story than playing the game.

‘...so there I am, no weapons, no shield, bang in the middle of the Serpent Citadel...’

He’s a good storyteller, I’ll give him that. But not as good as Y/n. She paints quite a picture, full of delicious gory details and horribly dark jokes.

‘Steve, you have to pay attention, you’re losing’ she says. ‘Yeah, I don’t actually know how to play chess, I just wanted you to listen to my story’.

She looks up at him, almost offended. ‘STEVE...’ ‘Cool, I’m gonna go wrap Stark into a game of Battleships and tell him about my fight with Copperhead’.

She laughs as he leaves the room, and she puts the chess pieces away.

‘We could play?’ I ask her. ‘Is the God in a mood to lose?’ ‘Over confidence isn’t attractive in anybody’. ‘Oh darling, neither is telling someone what is and isn’t attractive’.

She’s never called me that before, and in the context it should seem cutting, but it isn’t. ‘Darling?’ ‘Problem?’ ‘It’s quite a term of endearment to set someone straight’.

She says nothing.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ I tease her. She only smiles and continues putting the pieces away neatly. Stark’s chess set is gold and black, all individually carved pieces. The pawns are all Iron Man suits, but that’s to be expected. She handles them with the care Stark would.

‘I mean...’ I continue, ‘honestly, if someone heard, they’d never let you live it down’.

And she carries on, unbothered.

‘Y/n!’ ‘Oh dear, look at you come completely undone with just one term of endearment’ she comments, shutting the chess set. ‘Whatever would happen if I held your hand?’

The very thought of it seemed to drain my brain of blood. I unwillingly glanced at her hands, working the lock mechanism of the box, her blue veins prominent.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ she asked.

I stood up, the human emotion of embarrassment becoming too familiar for me. ‘I’ll have to see you at lunch’. ‘Sure, darling’.

Oh, I hate how she’s enjoying this.

----------

The next day, Y/n booked a training room to test out the Glaive, and Stark had a rusty but working chain hammer. Steve insists on trying it out anyway, and now our breakfast is being spent on discouraging him from doing that.

‘Guys... if nothing else, I’ll still have my shield. Let me test it out!’ ‘Y/n’s glaive cuts through Vibranium, you know that, right?’ Stark says. ‘Y/n wouldn’t do that’. ‘Oh yes she would’ Y/n says nonchalantly as she sinks her teeth into a bacon and egg sandwich.

As she does, the yolk runs down her fingers. She makes a sound at the inconvenience and sets the sandwich down, then grabs a napkin. I’m hardly ever crude, but the energy it took not to take her hand and lick off the yolk myself could burn every star in the galaxy.

Captain America scrunches his nose at her remark, severely offended.

‘In any case, that shield barely covers your giant body. It will force Stark to make you a new one’. ‘What do you care about his giant body’ Stark says. ‘It’s America’s ass, Tony’ she takes a sip of her iced coffee. Steve blushes, and Tony rolls his eyes.

----------

The training facility is magic, of course, somewhere between a mirror dimension and Wanda’s reality powers creating a safe cocoon inside the building so no one can be harmed. Y/n hardly trusted anybody to fight with her except Thor, but given the nature of Corvus’ Glaive, she knew magic would be required.

And so she called me.

After getting into my battle armour, I stepped into the facility, equipped with my sceptre and the teachings of the witches of Asgard.

She whistles as I walk in. ‘Trying to distract me from killing you?’ ‘Are you?’ I ask. She’s dressed in a black bodysuit, details of purple in her belt and weapon harnesses. ‘Why yes, I am. Glad you noticed’.

The glaive is on the floor, and she stomps her foot on one part of it so it swivels up and neatly places itself in her hand. She smiles.

‘Try to keep up. I’m not just looking for eye candy in a training partner, darling’ she says, getting into battle stance.

With nothing left to say for the second time this week, I aim the sceptre at her and the stone at the end glows.

She charges and I shoot at her, but she spins the glaive and creates a shield which absorbs the energy.

She continues to charge at me. I shoot again, and again the glaive takes the hit. Not a scratch on her.

Once she comes closer, she simply places the flat end of the weapon against my chest, sending me hurtling back into a wall.

She spins the glaive and laughs.

‘Compliments of Wakanda. It absorbs any hits and charges up with kinetic energy’.

I get up on my feet. This is far from over. I create multiple illusions to surround her, all of them brandishing knives, Chitauri tech, and sceptres.

‘Damn, suddenly my whole evening has opened up’ she says, looking around.

Even my clones look around at each other puzzled.

‘Come on then, who’s up?’ she spins the glaive around. ‘One at a time or all at once, baby’.

They charge at her, and I expected her to fight them off at once... instead she plants the staff on the ground and ducks, and a semi-circle shell grows from the top of the staff, down to the floor... like a mini fortress, completely impenetrable. It could, no doubt, continue to take hits and build up kinetic energy, so I call off the clones.

She gets up and retracts the shell. ‘Nanotech’ she grins at me. ‘The whole shell sits in a disk. It can withstand bombs and even a moon’. ‘Is there any tech you haven’t adopted?’ ‘I’m an intergalactic scavenger, aren’t I?’

I stare at her, horrified. Can she read minds?

‘Maybe I can. Or maybe I heard you tell Stark when he was complaining about me finishing my weapon first’.

Silence.

‘Also, darling, you’re awfully predictable in your fighting’.

She picks up every trick and tech she sees, so beating her is less about weapons and more about cunning.

No problem. Cunning is my specialty.

‘Ready now?’ she asks. ‘Mhm’.

She takes a deep breath to ready herself, her eyes shutting slightly. Once they open back up, she stares in shock.

In my Jotun form, I give her my most menacing smile.

She cocks her head to the side, studying my icy blue skin.

The illusion I cast of myself approaches behind her, dagger in hand. Once it’s close enough and I can almost taste my victory, she raises the glaive and in one swift motion, sticks it into its abdomen.

The illusion disappears into green light.

‘Cute’ she remarks. She points the glaive at me. ‘What else you got for me?’ I shift back to my Asgardian form and sigh. ‘You win’.

Y/n laughs and lowers her weapon. ‘Oh darling, I won the second you walked in wearing all that leather’. She winks at me, then walks out of the facility. I feel a blush creep to my face, much against my will.

-------------

‘Maybe you should stick to your guns, Tony’ Y/n says, ‘Fancy suits is it for you, chain hammers may be overshooting it’. ‘Is that what they taught you in the back alley you learnt ironmongery from?’ ‘Yes! Do you want their number, I’m sure they’ll have a spot on the waiting list for you’.

Ah. Y/n’s relationship with Stark seemed more like mine with Thor. While they banter, Steve and Natasha tear up from laughing. I wouldn’t go so far as to call this domestic, but it certainly is comfortable.

‘Come on, the glaive can’t be that good, right Loki?’ Stark asks.

The company looks at me expectantly. ‘To say her weapon isn’t good enough means to insult your own tech, Stark. Everything about it is founded on your theories’.

‘So technically, it’s my brain that made the glaive so cool’ he tells Y/n. ‘Yeah, you could say that. The glaive comes from the same mind that manufactured Captain America’s dinner plate’.

Steve doesn’t find that one funny, but Natasha does, sending her into peals of laughter.

‘Oh whatever’ Tony huffs. ‘I’m going back to the lab’.

He stands up and Y/n grabs his arm. ‘Aww Tony, I’m just kidding!’ she pats his hand, ‘Look, you’re a brilliant inventor, we all have our slow days’.

He sighs and nods, and holds her hand. ‘Thanks... I guess I’m just not in my element, you know?’ ‘Yeah...’ she keeps patting his hand.

And the feeling of domesticity creeps in. We really are all a family. Y/n smiles encouragingly at Tony, and Tony seems more relaxed.

‘So, you want me to get you the number of that ironmongery, or...?’ ‘OH FOR...’ he snatches his arm away and storms out of the room, with Steve and Nat losing it all over again.

___________________________________________________________

Ah this was so fun!!!!!!!! I hope you guys liked it <3

MASTERLIST HERE

ASK BOX OPEN FOR FIC REQUESTS. Find GUIDELINES HERE.

#loki x you #loki pov #loki x reader #loki marvel #Marvel Avengers #avengers tower #avengers fluff #tony stark #loki fanfic #loki fluff #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston birthday #fic prompts

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years ago

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Slashers / Horror Villains as: Animated (Children’s) Movie Villain Songs

+ A Nightmare Before Christmas

First of all, its mostly Disney. Second of all, I hope you know that this was a struggle for me.

Also, note, Bubba will be the only Leatherface in this post and Billy and Stu will be the only Ghostfaces. There is Norma Bates though, so sort of a consolation.

There are links to videos on YouTube ^^

~~~

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher / Ghostface: Playing With the Big Boy’s Now (Hotep and Huy, Prince of Egypt)

Well... they’re part of the ‘big boys’, now! They are part of the Slashers group that, uh, ‘inspired them’. Imagine instead of Egyptian Gods, they’re chanting Slasher names.

[HUY] Pick up your silly twig, boy [HOTEP & HUY] You're playing with the big boys now! Ha ha ha ha!

[EGYPTIAN PRIESTS] By the power of Ra Mut, Nut, Khnum, Ptah Sobek, Sekhmet, Sokar, Selket Anubis, Anukis Hemsut, Tefnut, Meshkent, Mafdet...

Chop Top and Nubbins + Bubba Sawyer / Leatherface: Kidnap Mr Sandy Claws (Lock, Shock and Barrel, Nightmare Before Christmas)

I mean... they aren't Drayton’s minions, but they are like this XD

I say that we take a cannon, aim it at his door And then knock three times And when he answers Sandy Claws will be no more

Yes you're so stupid, think now If we blow him up to smithereens We may lose some pieces And then Jack will beat us black and green

Kidnap the Sandy Claws Tie him in a bag

Chucky / Charles Lee Ray: In The Dark Of The Night (Rasputin, Anastasia)

Mystical man? Check! ‘Betrayal’ (As far as he sees it)? Check. Made them pay? Check; I think Nica, Sarah and all the other families he destroys throughout the franchise can attest to that. And ‘One little girl got away’? Well Andy isn’t a girl, but yeah. Check.

I was once the most mystical man in all Russia When the royals betrayed me they mad a mistake My curse made each of them pay But one little girl got away Little Anya, beware Rasputin's awake

Drayton Sawyer: Don’t Fall In Love (Forte, Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas)

Its such a crochety, unessessarily rude way of describing relationships to someone! I mean, I understand completely and resonate deeply with the desire to be alone and not be responsible for anyone else, but- come on! Beast doesn't share your view! Let it go!

Its just like Drayton’s reaction to Bubba having a crush. Super cool video too!

As soon as your heart rules your head Your life is not your own It's hell when someone's always there It's bliss to be alone

And love of any kind is bad A dog, a child, a cat They take up so much precious time Now, where's the sense in that?

Freddy Krueger: No More Mr Nice Guy (Rothbart, Swan Princess)

A man with an uncomfortable relationship with the main female character pretending to be normal and not homicidal for a while before unlocking more power and letting there inner bad guy loose and taking great pleasure in it? Sounds familiar. They also have a similar vocabulary- except of course Rothbart is rated G.

I'll become that nasty, naughty, dirty, spiteful Wicked, wayward, way-delightful Bad guy I was born to be

Lyin' loathesome, never-tender Indiscreet repeat offender No more Mr Nice Guy That's not me

Inkubus: The World’s Greatest Criminal Mind (Professor Rattigan, The Greatest Mouse Detective)

‘Inkubus’ is literally a movie about him listing all his crimes over the centuries and messing with the police force because he has a bone to pick with a detective. Sounds pretty similar to me! Listen to the song! ^^

Now comes the real tour de force Tricky and wicked, of course! My earlier crimes were fine for their times But now that I'm at it again An even grimmer plot has been simmering In my great criminal brain!

Jason Voorhees: Despicable Me (About Gru, Despicable Me)

I... this is all I could think of!! But the more I listen to it and read the lyrics... it f i t s Jason so well! XD Please just let this slide; I know Gru isn't really a villain but he is at the start!! Let me have this.

Why ask why? Better yet "Why not?" Why are you marking x on that spot? Why use a blow torch isn't that hot? Why use a chainsaw? Is that all you got? Why do you like seeing people in shock? But my question to you is "Why not?" Why go to the bank and stand in line Just use a freeze gun it saves me time. I'm havin' a bad, bad day It's about time that I get my way Steam rollin' whatever I see, Huh, despicable me I'm havin' a bad, bad day If you take it personal that's okay Watch, this is so fun to see Huh, despicable me

Jennifer Check: Trust In Me (Kaa, The Jungle Book)

She’s a succubus demon. Tempting boys into a safe-feeling, docile state so she she can strike is her thing.

Will cease to resist Just relax Be at rest Like a bird In a nest

Trust in me Just in me Shut your eyes And trust in me

Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone: Savages (Governor Ratcliffe and the Colonizer’s parts, Pocahontas)

Obviously, because of the (Inaccurate) historical relevance of both movies (Different time’s, same terrible prejudice,) and also because there is definitely a very cult-ish feel about both Governor Ratcliffe’s song and Buckman’s leadership. How easily they’re able to gather support from their people for the most horrible reasons. How horrifying it is to audiences and historians.

They're only good when dead They're vermin, as I said And worse

They're savages! Savages!

Barely even human

Savages! Savages!

Drive them from our shore! They're not like you and me Which means they must be evil We must sound the drums of war!

Michael Myers: The Gospel Truth II (Muses about Hades, Hercules)

In a Disney movie, Michael would have others sing his song about him as he goes about his silent, determined walking XD

If there's one God you don't want to get steamed up It's Hades 'Cause he had an evil plan He ran the underworld But thought the dead were dull and uncouth He was as mean as he was ruthless And that's the gospel truth He had a plan to shake things up And that's the gospel truth

Midnight Man: Oogie Boogie’s Song (Oogie Boogie, Nightmare Before Christmas)

A song about a “Gamblin’ Boogie Man” is perfect for the Midnight Man! He and Oogie could be pals.

Woah! The sound of rollin' dice To me is music in the air 'Cause I'm a gamblin' Boogie Man Although I don't play fair It's much more fun, I must confess When lives are on the line Not mine, of course, but yours, old boy Now that'd be just fine

Norma Bates: Mother Knows Best Reprise (Mother Gothel, Tangled)

Norma is soooooo so so so unbelievably manipulative towards Norman (And Dylan. It just works better on Norman) and this song absolutely presents that. She can go from sweet, loving mother to spiteful, heinous bitch in two seconds if Norman or Dylan don't do what or react the way she wants them to.

Likes you? Please, Rapunzel, that's demented

This is why you never should have left! Dear, this whole romance that you've invented, Just proves you're too naive to be here Why would he like you? Come on now, really! Look at you, you think that he's impressed? Don't be a dummy Come with mummy

Pamela Voorhees: My Lullaby (Zira, The Lion King 2)

In a opposite approach to a villainous mother to Norma, we have Pam, who was heartbroken by the camp councillors letting her son die and vowed to get revenge. She didn't know she was teaching Jason to be the Crystal Lake killer like Zira did, but she did, and the whole song does have her kind of feel to it also.

Sleep, my little Kovu Let your dreams take wing One day when you're big and strong You will be a kingI've been exiled, persecuted Left alone with no defense When I think of what that brute did I get a little tense But I dream a dream so pretty That I don't feel so depressed 'Cause it soothes my inner kitty And it helps me get some rest

Patrick Bateman: Cruella De Vil (Arthur, 101 Dalmations)

Never before was there a song that described audiences reaction to watching Patrick living in his daily life and hearing his thoughts better then this one.

Cruella De Vil Cruella De Vil If she doesn't scare you No evil thing will To see her is to Take a sudden chill Cruella, Cruella De Vil

The curl of her lips The ice in her stare All innocent children Had better beware She's like a spider waiting For the kill Look out for Cruella De Vil

Pennywise (Both): You’re Only Second Rate (Jafar, Return of Jafar)

Mostly for the video and Jafar’s energy in this scene actually XD So many transformations, so many tasteless puns! I was going to give this to Freddy but its the closest thing to Penny I could think of.

Go ahead and zap me with the big surprise Snap me in a trap, cut me down to size I'll make a great escape It's just a piece of cake You're only second rate You know your hocus-pocus isn't tough enough And your mumbo-jumbo doesn't measure up Let me pontificate upon your sorry state You're only second rate

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt: Hellfire (Judge Claude Frollo, Hunchback of Notre Dame)

A nasty filthy man who think’s he’s in the right despite being the biggest creep and monster ever? Mhm.

*Note: I honestly didn't notice the deformed baby, Quasimodo/Thomas link until the day after I wrote this. Don't know how I feel about it. I mean, Hoyt is actually nice, in his way, to Thomas so the connection isn't totally there but onwards:

Beata Maria You know I am a righteous man Of my virtue I am justly proud

Beata Maria You know I'm so much purer than The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd

End of Post! 🌼

(Bonus’ under the cut)

I did think of other connections which I obviously didnt landed on but still have merit! Here!

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher: ‘Gaston’ was considered, but that would have just been a joke XD I don’t think Stu is quite as obsessed with Billy as LeFou is with Gaston.

Chucky: Friends on the Other Side. Obviously! That link was actually what inspired me to make this post. In The Dark of Night fits to a T though.

Freddy Krueger: You’re Only Second Rate! Ah, its perfectttt. But No More Mr Nice Guy fits better. If I ever do a Slashers as Disney Villains post, he’ll be Jafar for sure. Or Hades. Or Scar. Or Oogie. Probably Hades. You know what? Without the gore and blood and explicit sexual references, Freddy could be a Disney Villain himself. Its not like Disney hasn't towed the line before with perverted villains. >_> (Jafar and Frollo)

Jason and Pamela Voorhees: Mother Knows Best! Of course.

Jennifer Check: Love is For Peasants (Barbie Island Princess) Because Jennifer thinks like this:

Men? <<< Literally anything else.

Patrick Bateman: How Can I Refuse? (From Barbie Princess and the Pauper) XD If Patrick were a kids movie villain, he would totally join the ranks of corrupted usurpers pretending to be trustworthy royal advisory staff. Also ‘Let It Die’, that little interruption part of another song that O’Hare sings in the Lorax and ‘How Bad Can I be?’.

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randombtsprincessa · 4 years ago

Text

Blackthorn Creek

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Park Jimin x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 24.1k

Genre: Beauty and the Beast AU! Fantasy, Angst, Fluff, Smut!

Rating: NC-17 ranging till 18+ during the last scene, just to be safe.

Warning: Curses, magic, violence, conspiracy for treason, heavy insecurities, imprisonment of sorts, animal attacks, description of blood and injuries, mob mentality, invasion, stabbing, falling from heights, death, marital sex, first time, kissing, fingering, unprotected sex (be careful folksies!) And a whole lotta cheese cause it’s Jimin and I love him.

A/N: The following work is part of the Twisted Fairtytales: Members in Distress for @ksmutclub I had the idea for this story sitting in my WIPS and thankfully, the project came at the perfect moment! I hope you all like it as much as I loved writing it!

A major thank you and a glomping hug to @cuziloveyou7 and my amazing best friend for all their support for the fic!

The night was chill.

Pale, gossamer links of snow knitted across the glass of the castle, the granite of the stairs seeping the cold through to the skin.

A light chatter was interrupted when the front doors thudded – once, twice and then another time.

It was late, after all; much too late for any visitors, too rude for guests to show up…

The King, a benign man, stood from his seat near the fire, guards surrounding their liege. The Queen looked up at her husband, worried but the King patted her shoulder, beckoning for the doors to be opened.

It would be rude to leave the doors barred too, of course. It could be someone in need.

He watched, curious, as his Maitre D’, Seokjin, walked slowly to the doors. His arms flung the heavy oaken doors open, a flourish to his actions.

“Welcome,” Jin spoke in his exaggerated voice, “to the Castle of Blackthorn Creek. To what do we owe the pleasure, and to whom, may I ask?”

There was silence, much too thick, much too tense to be someone in need, to be a friendly visitor.

“I am here, to see your King. Bring me to him.”

Seokjin stuttered in his vigor, an unnerved stance taking him over as he glanced back to the royal couple, a question to his eyes.

The King cast an eye to his right corner, where his trusted advisor sat, his shoulders visibly tight. Namjoon cleared his throat, a warning sound. “I will see him.” The King said instead, knowing it would be better to see what the stranger wanted.

His guards circled him, his wife remaining behind as he approached and stood behind Seokjin.

“You are in the presence of our Lord and King.” The man announced, drawing away with a stiff bow – unlike any he had performed before.

The King stepped forward, and looked at the man who stood at his doorstep. The man, in turn raised his head, allowing for the dark hood atop his head to fall back. His head was cast in shadows, the whites of the eyes visible as he spoke.

“Your Majesty, I have come from far lands for the pleasure of your company.”

“Consider the pleasure ours, please do come in. What can we do for you?” The King waved a hand, dismissing the surrounding guards as the stranger tilted his head, walking in with his head still held high. He stopped right inside the threshold, as the inmates of the house gazed with wonder and some horror at his visage.

His head was shaven, dark marks etched into the near blue-white skin of his face. His arms bore similar marks, sheathed in crimson robes that were certainly not the fashion of those times.

“Well,” The King pressed.

The stranger slowly blinked his unnerving eyes, a flash of green lighting them. “I hear tales of your kingdom, your generous reign in my homelands. I must say I am not disappointed.”

He finally turned his head to where the Queen sat. “I also hear tales of a beautiful daughter. Your little Princess,”

There was a ringing silence. Guards shifted in their positions, Namjoon and Seokjin drew closer to the Queen and the King froze. To all but the mysterious stranger’s eyes unknown, a small figure crouched at her mother’s skirts, face turned curious to the sudden tension in the air.

“What do you want?” It was the Queen who spoke. Her crown glinted in the firelight, her body clenched on her chair. The stranger didn’t look at her when he answered the question.

“I come with a proposal. I offer my hand in marriage with the Princess.”

There was another pause, albeit much less tense as movement started.

“Preposterous; she is but a child.” This came from Namjoon.

“I am willing to wait.” The stranger said coolly.

“Then you will be waiting forever. I will not give my child to any godforsaken man who happens across my door and throws around absurd ideas. You will never have my daughter.”

“I will be a good husband, and a good king.”

“My Liege; do we have permission to draw arms?” The guard closest to the King asked, his hand already drawing closer to his sheathed sword.

“Nay, no bloodshed; just throw this madman out to the snow.” The King spat, his cloak whirling as he turned to go back to his family.

Behind him, his men converged, arms raised to push the stranger out the palace gates.

Time seemed to slow as the men gathered around his form, which had straightened to as tall as he could get.

“You’ll find you’ve made something of a mistake…Your Majesties.”

A cruel smile curled his lips, hands cupping near his stomach. His large sleeves gave way, revealing the etched marks and even as they pulse green, his form erupted in green light, exploding out till it engulfed the entire estate.

The King buckled, his arms wrapping around his wife and child as the men began to shout, and darting away from whatever it was the demon man unleashed.

“Hear me, O great King; for your impudence, I place your most beloved under this curse. You will be reduced to nothing but a fixture; your entire household will be mere pawns to be used by commoners. And your daughter,” The smirk widened, finding the small girl who still hid, now visible to everyone as their horrified gazes found the young princess.

“Your daughter will be left all alone. Her beauty will now be gone, her temperament destroyed. She will be feared, loathed, a monstrosity that will live with your enchantment.”

“She is a child! You are hurting a child!” Finally, an anguished wail escaped the Queen but the wizards over spoke her, drowning her words.

“At the age of twenty and three, she will be rendered thus permanently. Not a thing but the truest of love can rescue her and break my curse. Only the one who will look past her form will win that honor.”

The light faded with the man’s silhouette, the only thing that remained in the blazing glimmer of the settling curse. Movement ceased, the fire died into its embers…

“You will soon find that I am the only man who is merciful and worthy enough.”

These last words echoes in the halls, sealing through the stone and glass until another sound replaced it.

The screams of a terrified little girl…

Time seemed to flow like water after the screams died.

Nobody took courage to go up to the Palace, find their rulers…the town forgot they even had rulers. Administration moved into common hands, spread to the citizens and the legend of the lost royal family became a ghost story.

The path to Blackthorn Creek remained abandoned, silent, and derelict.

In the town of course, the ghost story didn’t matter. Life had moved on, become busy, become full of bustle.

Park Jimin threw the doors of his father’s work room open, sticking his head in to check once on the aging man.

“Father, I’m out to the baker’s. Shall I bring back something?”

There was no answer from his father, just a distant sigh that said there was nothing that could be brought back that would satisfy him.

Jimin drew back, unable to curb his rising disappointment. There was something in the slump of his father’s shoulders, ever since they’d moved into the developing town of Blackthorn Creek that, as much as the exuberant Jimin tried, he simply couldn’t shake.

Perhaps, it was his mother’s death that took their house and worldly belongings. Perhaps it was the sinking of his father’s patent ship, causing such debt that there was no hope to pay it back with nothing to put up for interest.

The Park family had to relocate from their luxury in France to the eastern countryside, to this small place. It had taken all the merry from his father’s life.

Jimin, however, worked hard to keep his spirits up. This was a setback yes, but his father was a genius. He was sure to come up with another pitch that would work out. And even if he didn’t; well, Jimin would always be there to take care of his beloved father.

A basket in hand, Jimin cocked his hat, setting out for the day.

The town, as small as it was, was full of life around midday. The market bustled, the streets running with people and the pub was always open, till as late as it could get.

But even through the color, there were shades of grey. The cheerful Creek had one mighty legend; one of the local royals’ disappearance. There was a long winded street that was barred from the public, leading up to a small hill, behind which there was said to be the palace.

He had taken these myths with a small smile, aimed at the person trying to call for his attention with these stories.

But even he had to admit, such tales of mystique piqued his fancy in the most delightful way. France had been exciting, especially for a young man such as himself. Plucking him out and placing him in a much smaller world where things were…stagnant, did cause something of a blow to his vigor.

Jimin stopped, contemplating the bookshop that lay just at the edge of the forbidden path. He had a few books still remaining back home, left to be read – but perhaps, he could squeeze in another couple?

“My boy,” The shopkeeper chuckled at the frown on the young man’s face. “Are you done with those piles that you took already?”

“Not quite, sir,” Jimin grinned. “I might just pop by again soon enough.”

The shopkeeper gave him a toothy grin, watching the man glance in some wonder at the blocked off road. The mountains had already started to grow slick with frost – sign of another passing winter. “Here,” he said suddenly.

Jimin stuttered in his forward steps, retracing back to where the stooping elder held out a pale bound tome from the front window. “Sir,” he raised his eyes in puzzlement.

“It’s a little something special I had lying about collecting dust. It was surprising that this one hasn’t caught your eye as of yet but I’m sure you will enjoy it.”

Jimin gave the friendly man a smile, letting the soft book fall open upon his palms, sifting through the delicate pages. “What’s it about?”

“The very thing you’re so curious about; lost princesses, brave knights, curses, fairies…” The book keeper burst out laughing at the soft blush that crept along Jimin’s cheeks. “You don’t need to be coy, son. Our little legend is bound to attract someone.”

“I must thank you sir. I will return it as soon as I’m done.”

“Oh by all means, keep it. It’s better suited to your hands than the shelves in this old place.”

Jimin blinked. “That’s a generous gift. I hope I do it justice.”

“I’m sure you will. Now off with you; the market isn’t going to stay open all day.” The man waved Jimin off, returning to his shop.

Jimin found himself quickly immersed in the fantasy, the short stories of courage, chivalry, sacrifice and fire keeping his nose well buried in the musty pages as he found the daily shopping that he was required to do.

All was well, until the book was snatched out of his hands, a giggle soon to follow.

“Hello stranger.”

“Hyebin,” Jimin sighed, looking around to where the young girl had snapped the book shut decisively.

Hyebin had been the girl to whom Jimin owed most of his knowledge of the town. Raven haired, slim and tall, she was the beauty of the town, sister to one of the most renowned hunters in the nearby vicinity – Kai. He and his sister had taken over most of the social scene of the town, near to becoming the law itself.

And Hyebin had her eyes set on Jimin ever since he set foot within the pub; by proxy, leading her brother to pester him with offers of her hand.

“May I have my book back?”

Pale glimmering lips pouted at him, the book still clutched in her hands. “You never pay attention to me, Jimin. Not when you have books about,” she said.

“Of course that’s not the case.” The man said smoothly.

“It is so. What’s so special about books anyway?” Hyebin took a step further back, too quick for Jimin’s reaching fingers. She pried the book open rudely. “They don’t lead to too much around here.”

“There’s more to books than just material gain, Hyebin.” Jimin was becoming impatient – his eyes fixed on the way her nails dug into the delicate binding.

“If you say so, when we’re married; would you still pay more attention to books than me?”

Jimin dearly wanted to say that that would never happen but he settled for resignedly bouncing on his toes. “What if I read to you?”

“I’d fall asleep.”

“I see.” This time Jimin moved fast, hands grabbing the book from Hyebin’s distracted hold long enough to fall back a safe distance. “I need to go back home. Give your brother my best.”

By the time he got home, his father had put away his new working equipment, instead pacing about in the handkerchief living room.

“Father,” Jimin greeted, putting up his hat.

“Son, how…how was the day?” His father stopped marching, coming up to take the basket of shopping from him.

“Normal, had to dodge Hyebin as usual,” he muttered, making his father chuckle.

“One of these days that girl will marry you still.”

“Such a horrifying thought,”

“Then let me put you to ease.” Mr. Park put his hands on Jimin’s shoulders, making his son look him in the eyes. “There has been some development. The ship that I lost at sea, a year ago, has been heard from. I have been called to attest to it.”

Jimin took a moment to process the news, watching his father’s eyes light up with something that was fearfully hopeful. “Do you mean that --?”

“Possibly; if it is true, we can go back to our old lives again! Think of it, Jimin! Paris, France, the beautiful sprawling house that we had to give up. Your education…” The man smiled affectionately, “We’ll have to find you a lady to wed who is at par with you.”

“Father,”

“I set off tonight! It will be a day’s journey but I know you can watch over things here.”

Jimin watched as his father hurriedly moved to the door, a coat and hat finding their way on his body and his cane and horse whip clasped to his breast. “Wish well for us, my son, our lives could be soon close to change. Do you wish for me to bring you anything back?”

“No father, just you,” Jimin bid farewell to his father, watching him disappear within the small stable to gallop away.

When Mr. Park had set out for the harbor, his spirits had been up soaring in the clouds, visions of his life returning to him in his previous splendor. Now, stood at the wooden ledge, watching crestfallen as merchants, traders, moneylenders, once his friends but now…now they had gathered around his returned goods and scavenged and distributed everything among themselves.

“Your debts are clear, Park.”

“Jimin won’t have to be in debt to us anymore, sir.”

“Go back home sir,”

Just words…nothing more, no comfort found his heart when he straddled his horse again, starting the long trek home.

The horse wouldn’t gallop, possibly sensing its master’s indolence and Mr. Park was overcome with a sudden wave of gratefulness for the animal. After all, he would have to strengthen his bones; he had to deliver the news to Jimin.

The idea of disappointing his son was probably more harrowing than that of losing his wealth yet again.

At least now they were free from debt.

There was a small whinny, attracting the older man’s attention as he looked up to see which path he was on. It was long, thin, winding up a hill he had never seen before in his life.

“Hey boy, I think we took the wrong way.” He patted the horse’s head, before getting off, grabbing the reins. “Let’s find a way out.”

A few miles in, Mr. Park stopped, short of breath.

“Where in the world are we?” He growled low, ignoring the shuddering animal behind him as he trudged on when a high, pitched sound made them both freeze.

A wolf’s howl…

There were wolves around. Mr. Park was alone with no weapons and no idea of where he was. His horse let out a sound of protest again.

“Damn it all too hell,” Mr. Park quickly climbed the horse, kicking it to speed. “Take off, boy; we don’t have any time to lose.”

His ride raised back its front legs, before racing down the way they had come.

Jimin had been anxious all day, toiling in the small garden that his father had managed to build in the front of their house. Sweat had gathered his dark hair into clumps, matting his eyes so when he hear the familiar whinny of Geureum, the horse, he smiled naturally – relieved that his father was finally back home.

“Ah father, nice to –,” he turned, his smile vanishing slowly when he saw the horse alone, pawing his hooves into the dirt, snorting impatiently.

“Geureum, where is he?” Jimin grabbed for the horse’s reins, pulling it closer to soothe it. “Where is Father?”

All Geureum did was shake his head roughly, stepping back and forth.

“Can you show me where he is, huh, boy? Come on,” He slipped his foot in the stirrup, hauling himself into the saddle. “Take me to him, Geureum.”

Geureum stopped only once when he reached a huge, wrought iron gate, roses and swans intricately welded to the metal, now rusty from disuse.

Something had prickled Jimin’s hairline when Geureum had approached the blockaded hill up to the legendary Blackthorn Creek palace but the horse had circumvented it, riding up a much thinner path up.

Jimin slipped off of the horse, patting Geureum on the side. “Stay here, boy.”

And then…with a creek that echoed through the cold night, he entered the palace, walking through huge oaken double doors to find his father.

He had to admit, for a second, standing in the atrium of the castle, he was struck by how grand it must have been. The ceiling peaked, now broken in with many of the granite slabs gone, the starry night sky clearly visible. Dirt and mud had accumulated on the marble floors, muffling the clicks of his boots just a bit.

“Father,” he called loudly before cursing to himself.

What if someone heard him? He wasn’t exactly supposed to be here.

Jimin shook his head. Who would hear him? It was a deserted castle with its family long gone. There probably had never been a family; the town had probably spun a yarn to make it special to tourists.

He crept up grand staircase, sticking close to the rails.

“Father,” he called again.

“Jimin…?”

He whirled, looking around for the source of the sound. “Yes, father it’s me.” He ventured, noticing a hand slipping out from the bars of a door. “Father!” He dropped to his knees in front of the door.

“Jimin, what are you doing here? You can’t be here, you have to leave!” His father was wailing from within, his hands grasping air in search for Jimin.

“What are you saying? Of course, I had to come! Who did this to you?”

“No! Don’t you see, Jimin? It’s true, the legends, the stories, they’re true!”

“What is true? Father, tell me who did this to you?”

“The monster; there is a monster in this castle!”

Jimin paused in trying to pry the door open, widened eyes swiveling to his father’s outstretched hands. “What?”

“It’s true! Please you have to leave! It’s dangerous!”

“Father, that can’t possibly be true!” Jimin said adamantly only to be proven wrong the next second.

A roar that sent Jimin’s hair rising to its ends erupted, echoing around the cavernous halls. A heavy weight landed on his shoulder, throwing him away from the door.

“What are you doing here?”

If there was a god, Jimin had better start praying to it, he thought, cowering away from the hunkering shadow that loomed over him. All he could discern were bright yellow eyes, slanting dark pupils glaring at him and the appendage his father had left hanging out the bars.

“Jimin!” His father chose to shout at the very moment.

Jimin watched the – the – thing – rise upon its legs, prowling further in but still remaining in the dark corner. “What are you doing here?” It asked again.

Jimin blinked slowly, trying to make sense of what was happening to him. Here he was, in an allegedly cursed castle. His father was locked up, raving about monsters and now he was face to face with what appeared to be a huge animal…only, it talked like a human.

“I…I came for my father.” Jimin stuttered, trying to push himself back up.

The yellow eyes flickered, between Jimin and his father, before creeping back into the shadows. “You came in vain. The prisoner will not be released.”

“No wait!” Jimin called, shuffling to his feet as the figure began to draw back. “You can’t keep him here like this! He’s an old man, he’ll die!”

“THEN HE SHOULDN’T HAVE TRESPASSED IN MY HOME!”

Jimin froze at the sudden roar, managing to grab onto his father’s hands finally. This was real. The legend was true. The people living in the castle were monsters, cursed.

“Your…please – I’ll do anything.”

“No! He’ll stay here, locked up because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.” The monster began to disappear.

“Take me.” Jimin took a step forward.

The figure paused.

“What, Jimin, no – no, listen, you can’t do this!” His father yelled.

“I mean it. You take me, let him go.” Every word strengthened in his throat, conviction pushing him forward till he was barely a meter away from the monster.

“You – You’d do that? You’d stay here, in exchange for him?”

Jimin met its eye. Bright yellow to Jimin’s deep brown, when it stepped finally into the small lighted part.

Coarse, shaggy fur coated a huge, lumbering form. The bright yellow eyes that seemed so unnerving were set in a canvas of a ferocious face, the fur streaked with grey and black, a huge snout for a nose and huge fangs that protruded from its mouth.

A lesser man would’ve burst a lung screaming at the horrifying sight but Jimin managed to hide his face, backing up till he could feel his father trying to clutch at the back of his shirt.

“I…I would. Let him go and you can take me.” Jimin finally said and he was proud to say that his voice remained steady.

There was a ringing moment of doubt, flickering in the golden orbs of the monster, before with a growl it raised its paw. Jimin flinched, cringing away from the blow but it never fell. Instead, he heard a dull, metallic thunk and the heavy padlock fell to his feet.

Mr. Park fell out; the door giving way under his weight and he clung to Jimin. “No, no, please, don’t take him, keep me – I have nothing to live for anymore but my son has a whole life.” His father begged to the monster but the only reply they got was a ferocious roar. “GET OUT! If you value your life and your son’s, leave; or I will kill you both!”

The monster turned on an enormous heel, stomping back into the darkness.

The tower that Jimin was pushed into had one small window, a little too high for him to reach, but he managed to hike his nimble body up till he swung from the ledge. His fingers reddened from the strain but when he finally peeked through the window, he just barely caught the end of a huge cart, led by a snorting and neighing Geureum.

He dropped from the ledge, landing squarely on his feet upon the uneven flagstone and cursed, running two hands through his ruffled hair.

“Hello sir,”

Jimin jumped, whirling around at the smooth voice that sounded nothing like the awful grate of the monster’s growl.

“Right down here.”

Jimin backed up as far as he could against the wall before casting his eyes downwards. There was nothing on the floor, soft moss growing within the cracks with one slightly buffed up candelabrum left behind.

“Hello,” the voice said again.

“Where are you? Look, I’m not scared of anything anymore so you’re doing nothing,”

“Of course not, sir, it’s me…Kim Seokjin, the…” a sigh, “the candle holder.”

Jimin took a shuddering breath, before very slowly diverting his eyes to the golden instrument on the ground.

It wasn’t very huge, just barely above average but the sweeping extensions made it seem bigger than it needed to be. Dripping wax clung to its arms where the candles stuck, the gold sheen pale yet glinting in the bare light. Just on the handle, there was an etching…just like one of a face. Even as Jimin watched, the candles lit up, making him flinch.

“Please follow me, sir.”

Jimin gulped.

“Follow you where?”

The candelabrum, to Jimin’s astonished eyes, seemed to turn on the base.

“The Mistress is installing you in a room of your own. The household doubts you want to stay in the tower.” There was something caustic about the smooth tone of the thing. It made Jimin almost bristle and refute before he looked around the tower he was put in.

It was one of the spindle shaped ones, too thin and a little rickety. The window that he had tried to peek out was the single one allowing light in and he could feel some vertigo setting in already, if the nausea was anything to go by.

“Fine – lead the way.” He said.

Jimin had already gauged that the palace had been luxuriant in its time but now, walking quietly through the long hallways with…an animate object bouncing along in front of him, he had to admit; that the ruin that now faced him didn’t seem adjacent to what the palace must have been before.

The stone, now greenish grey had gnarled carvings etched into them. The statues that stood at corners had most of their heads broken or missing and the small beam that the candles gave off only made him all the more unsettled.

“We know it’s a little…dull – around here but we hope you’ll like it.” It was as if the thing knew what was going on in Jimin’s head.

“You said ‘we’…and ‘household’ before…but except for you…and…well, the monster,” Jimin stopped talking when the candelabrum winced.

“You…might want to be careful about that. The Mistress is sensitive and none of the people in the castle will appreciate you calling her that.”

Jimin nearly tripped on his feet when he finally processed something. “That…that thing is a she?”

He was ignored. The candelabrum stopped in front of one of the doors, double door, handles of glum silver. “This is going to be your room, sir.” Jimin didn’t answer, quietly reaching for the handle and turning it, letting himself in cautiously.

The room wasn’t lighted, most of the darkness only marred by the light streaming from a glass window. He could spy a bed at best.

Jimin was about to step in further, squinting his eyes when he heard a loud creak, possibly a considerable weight upon a floorboard and then the clink of metal.

“If you don’t like the room, we can move you.” He heard but instead of the smooth, cool voice of the candelabrum, it was gruff, low and sullen.

He whirled to see a huge part of a shadow standing well back into the room. A heavy cloak wrapped up the body, concealing it further within the darkness.

Jimin didn’t speak as the form lumbered to the open door.

“Your needs will be seen to here. My servants will attend to you.” There was a pause before it took hold of the door. “And you will meet me for dinner; every night.”

The slam of the door made Jimin jump; his immediate reaction was to run to the door and look through the keyhole. There were footsteps and a murmur of conversation but aside from that, the entire palace seemed silent.

Jimin huffed, walking over to the window to open it, casting a furtive look outside and letting out a scornful laughter. He was a good way up the ground. Jumping from the window would mean certain death and even if he only escaped, it would be with broken bones and with no horse.

He doubted the ‘Mistress’ would nurse him back to health.

“My sweetest sister,” A finger brushed under the supple cheek of Hyebin, turning her attention to her brother who loomed over her at the counter of the pub. “What has you down?”

Hyebin pouted, throwing Kai’s hand off. “I went by Park Jimin’s house this evening to see if he would take a turn with me. He wasn’t there. The house was empty.”

“Maybe he went off with that father of his.”

“Why would he? There is nothing to do for him.”

Kai cast a glance at his grumpy sister, feeling the brewing of an odd emotion that he had had for her for months now. It was a mixture of pity, annoyance and yet the unyielding need to present whatever she wanted on a golden platter. He knew that Jimin did not return even half of a quarter of affection that his sister had and while he was annoyed at her overzealous devotion, he knew that she would never falter.

She got her stubbornness from him, after all.

Now, there may be better men for Hyebin than Jimin, but she wanted him and Jimin would marry her – Kai would see to it.

“Sister,” he began.

“You promised, Kai! You promised me you would make him marry me. You don’t love me. You can’t even do this much for me!”

“Now, now, dearest,”

Hyebin’s face had reddened; her hair crackling as she swelled like a bullfrog, ready to rail at her brother when the doors on the pub crashed open, with Mr. Park falling, raving against it.

“Help,” he panted, grasping at whatever was close at hand to heave himself up. “Help, my son, my son please.”

Heads turned, eyes falling to the soaked man as snow melted and pooled around his boots, the cloak wet and snug around his head. His eyes shifted from one astonished face to another, growing more restless.

“Please! I need help. My son has been taken by a monster!”

Behind him, Kai heard Hyebin’s squawk of indignation die down, releasing instead a dainty gasp. He watched the loony man walk around, trying to clutch at the sleeves of the patrons who shook him off with scoffs until he neared the siblings, finally tumbling at Kai’s elbow.

“Please, Kai, my last hope – you…have to help. My son, my only son – gone! – taken! – I can’t take this.”

Hyebin shrunk away from the delirious old man, bundling her dress to her knees even as Kai shook his arm free. “What’s the matter, Mr. Park? Be a little clear.”

“The monster of the palace took Jimin! Trapped him in the big castle on the hill…I couldn’t do anything!”

There was a pause as Kai furrowed his brow, before a patron shouted. “Leave him, Kai. He’s probably mad with the cold!”

“I am not!” Mr. Park immediately protested, wringing roughly at the coat before slumping his head and walking out the pub, defeated. They could hear wails of anguish in the cold winds outside but none were met with sympathy.

“He ran away!” Hyebin finally screeched, sinking her nails in her brother’s arms, ire flaming again.

Kai didn’t answer, letting his arm lax while his thoughtful expression slowly merged into that of a smirk. “Hyebin, my sweet; you might just get to marry Park Jimin after all.”

Jimin didn’t know when he’d dozed off. It must have been the exhaustion of the day, the pressure, the sorrow but he had curled up in one of the dusty armchairs, closed his eyes for possibly a second, only to gather his thoughts. Now he woke up to a pitch black room, stars visible from the window and he knew it was very late into the night.

His back had cramped in his position, obliging him to get off when he heard the gentle knock on the door. He took a wary stance, waiting for the doors to be barged into but to no avail. It was probably Seokjin the candle holder, Jimin decided, going to open the door.

“My now, I thought you’d wait for all the milk to go cold before you opened the door.”

Anticipating it, Jimin was already looking to the floor, only to be met by what looked like a tea set. He watched eyes boggling as the tea pot, a tall, sleek work with a rotund belly hobbled into the room, followed by a cup, and a sugar bowl.

“Um, what…who – are you now?” He asked.

“I’m the head cook, boy. Min Yoongi’s the name, also known as the best damn teapot in the kingdom. This right here,” the snout of the teapot tipped down to the cup, “is Taehyung, the assistant cook but not the best cup even in the room because he can’t keep himself on one stupid shelf.”

“Yah Hyung,” the cup opened at its seam, as if they were lips. “Don’t be mean.”

“I wasn’t going to come at all but I can’t leave you alone. Now then to business, boy; the Princess is taking a late supper so you can eat with her. You can have some milk before you go. You look like you’ve been crying and you’re just going to upset her.”

“Upset her?” Jimin glared, as the tea cup, filled with milk jumped into his reluctant hand. “I am the one trapped here.”

“Look on the bright side.” The teapot waved its spout and all the tea materials gathered in one line, heading out the door. “There’s a splendid welcome supper to be had. Come Taehyung.” He called as he exited.

“Oh but,” the tea cup sloshed some of its content onto Jimin’s hands when it jumped down, skidding across the stone before the door shut again. The sounds of the tea cup’s protests reached Jimin even through the heavy door.

Jimin wiped his hands of his trousers, grumbling at the way he made a mess when he backed against something large.

“No need to worry, young sir. Wardrobe is always here to help!”

Golden but dusty doors banged Jimin on the face, nearly tossing him onto the floor as the wardrobe advanced, rows and rows of pristine, shiny outfits ready to be worn. Jimin gasped, clutching his nose in pain as he shook his head.

“Many apologies! It’s been a while since I’ve been opened for any event at all. I am Jung Hoseok, the royal master of robes. Please do look through the selection to pick something out. I daresay you’ll want to change out of your outfit for dinner.”

“No thanks,” Wincing, Jimin managed to get to his feet. “I’m not going to dinner with Princess Monster down there.”

“Oh dear,” he heard the wardrobe as he crossed his arms, turning to the window to glare out of it.

The long dining table had been decked out for the first time in fifteen years. Silk cloths had been draped over the mahogany, candles put up, torches wiped and lit, plates and tableware sparkled in the dancing flame of the fireplace.

Yet, none of the chairs had been pulled back.

Seokjin and Yoongi, watched, anxious as the Mistress of the Castle, their Princess prowled in front of the table, each paw taking further weight from your animal bulk.

“Your highness, perhaps…you should sit and wait.” Seokjin suggested.

“No; I will wait for the man.” You said. Your voice had dipped down to a warning growl but your household items…your staff had never been very afraid of you.

Maybe they had, once, when you had first transformed and not taken to what you had become. A monster, a huge, hunkering loathsome thing which wanted to claw and destroy anything that stood in its wake…

It had taken years, but you had somewhat been ‘tamed’ since then.

“Princess, please, do consider that if we play our cards right, this man could be your salvation.”

“You think I don’t know that? I do…I know that but…how can he be if he won’t even come to dinner?”

“Perhaps also take into consideration that the boy is trapped here. He won’t see his father or his previous life again.” Jin’s statement wasn’t met with any geniality, instead the candelabrum found himself in the vice grip of his Mistress.

“Then what should I do? Do I throw him out? Let him leave so he can bring back a mob? No! I won’t do anything and if he wants to be difficult, I can be too.”

“We know that, your highness.” Yoongi said, his spout quivering. “We just have to remember to keep our tempers in check.”

The last statement was spoken pointedly and the monster blinked its huge yellow eyes, looking down to where you were almost squeezing your Maitre ‘D. You dropped the candle holder, Seokjin bouncing back a few steps when the door to the dinner room opened.

“Ah, there he is.” Yoongi’s belly turned, the porcelain splitting into a smile.

You turned, eyes trained in anticipation but what peeked in was an ornate long grandfather clock, its rose gold arms clasping the door in trepidation.

“Namjoon, where is the boy?” Seokjin asked immediately.

The royal advisor hemmed, glancing anxiously at the bunched up bulk of the Princess. “He says, he won’t be coming, your highness.”

There was a ringing silence, torn by the groans of Yoongi and Seokjin before you stood up, your clawed feet digging into the stone floor so hard it hurt.

“Fine, if he wants to be so stubborn then let him have his consequences too. Yoongi, you will bar the kitchens. He will not eat anything unless he first comes to me.”

“Princess, we can’t woo a dead man.” Namjoon said calmly but you were already dropping down from an upright position to what you were used to, on all four feet, crouching.

“I don’t care! Just…just let him starve! I don’t care if we find bones in his room.”

The three items converged, all talking together and you slammed a paw on the table, shredding the cloth. “Enough; let me go!” You roared before taking off, leaping over their heads so you could head and lock yourself in your quarters.

The silence that brushed up and closed around you as soon as the doors shut behind you and automatically locked was bliss. Yet your mind was anything but.

Hateful thoughts swirled in your mind, mostly aimed at yourself, some at the enthusiasm that your staff seemed to show for this new addition to your home and finally, venom spilling out to the man who had now entombed himself in one of your best rooms but couldn’t even show the decency to come down for dinner.

What was so difficult about dinner?

And why was he allowed to shut himself in his room when all your life you had been told to never hide yourself from the rest of the house?

Granted, all your people were now objects, magical but still just objects. Your parents had been turned to statues, forced to weather out in the overrun gardens and you had been raised by Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon mostly. Children your age; Taehyung and Jungkook had hated you in the beginning and you had never sought them out yourself.

Over time, Taehyung had forgiven you but Jungkook turned to a Duster never saw you, working quietly where you would never tread.

The rest of your household never came forward and said it; having never witnessed the event that had transformed you all but the malice was palpable. The rejection hurt, you were a child shunned and you sprouted claws much too early for anybody’s liking but you had tried.

You had tried, before giving up. You gave up because nothing happened. Fifteen years and no prince came; no fairy godmothers pointed their wands at you. The wizard never came back to see if his spell wrecked you.

All the stories that showed that Princesses would be rescued fell short at one crucial juncture.

No one told the story about the cursed princess who was ugly, who was a monster, who wasn’t the pale skinned beauty in a glass case or silk bed.

No, nobody came to save the ugly princess and over time you learned to see yourself just that.

This man – this Jimin, would be no exception.

“After all, what’s to love?” You muttered.

You vowed not to weep. Not for a man, not for the humanity that judged who was worthy of love.

Jimin had dozed off again. When he woke, it was with a start, groggy and fumbling in his movements. This was a bad habit. He needed to collect his wits about himself. Maybe it was the magic of the castle but he had to remember that he wasn’t safe in here, no matter how friendly and polite everyone…everything was being.

Somehow, in his slumber, the torches in the room had been lit, casting the place in a dazzling golden glow. The chair he had fallen asleep in again was pushed right to the edge of the room, near the window. He spied that the bed had been made with brocade bedding, surfaces had been dusted and to his surprise there was a pool at the very centre, filled with clear, almost glittering water.

Jimin’s stomach, having refused dinner with the Monster out of pride was already protesting, tossing him out of the chair in the direction of the pool. Maybe a cool drink would cheer and lift his spirits.

He sat at the engraved stone border, looking down at his haggard expression in the water, running a hand through the pool, cupping the soothing liquid up to his lips.

The minute the water passed his lips, a new sense of relief and rejuvenation passed his body, coursing through him as though adrenaline itself. Jimin got to his feet, looking about if he could ask the Wardrobe – Hoseok – where he could go to find food.

He found the spot empty, instead there stood a mannequin. On it, hung was a brand new outfit; a white spotless shirt, black trousers and blue silk coat. The mannequin stood lifeless even as Jimin stripped it, and then with apprehension brewing at his belly at accepting the gift, himself. However, unease had to wait; he was soaked, cold, and soiled. He would fall sick at that rate and then all his plans of escape would shatter. He also didn’t want to be indebted to the castle in any way.

So with a bite at his pride, he put on the outfit before pressing his ears to the door, listening for any movement. He couldn’t hear the pounds of the Princess’s paws, the clatter of any objects moving, no conversation, nothing at all.

Wary in his gait, he stepped out, keeping a light foot to lead him on when something whimpered from his side.

Jimin jumped, whirling in anticipation of roars, of overwhelming friendliness but instead a small pair of eyes beamed up at him from behind a moth eaten curtain. Running a hand over his panicking heart, Jimin’s lips tugged into a soft smile.

“Hello there,” he cooed at the pup that ventured out the curtain with three more at its tail.

“Oh, wow, puppies.” Jimin wanted to laugh at the simplicity, at the adorableness but the pups only let out soft gurgles, wrapping paws around Jimin’s legs, trying to nudge him along.

“What is it? Where are you taking me?”

Jimin allowed him to be prodded and nudged along by four small dogs, along the hallway, down the stairs and through another until he was pushing open a door, clearly the kitchen.

“Oh my,” his eyes fell first to the teapot on a wooden table, followed by the grandfather clock and candle holder he’d seen already. “What are you doing here? How did you,”

The teapot stopped when he saw the four puppies cuddling around Jimin’s feet, something of a softness melting the intricate seam of it. “Ah, of course,”

“Forgive me, I didn’t know. I was just hungry.” Jimin shyly dipped his head, knowing he was probably trespassing on some late night gossip among the staff.

“No, no, of course you’re hungry, you did show some nerve. It must’ve made you ravenous.” Seokjin bobbed towards him, wrapping a gold arm around his coat tails, dragging him to the table.

“Don’t worry, sir. We’ve spoken with the Mistress. She’s going to show some leniency. She won’t come down to dinner the same time as you do…unless you request it.” Namjoon the clock lied smoothly.

Jimin was sat at the table by Seokjin, a napkin pressed at him by the teapot as dishes and plates of food began to dance around the length of the table, piling upon the plate presented to him to eat.

“I…thank you.” Jimin frowned, unable to think of anything more to say.

“You may also wander the castle and grounds as you wish. One of us will always be found around and the Guides,” Yoongi pointed its spout at the four pups that stood lined near the door, “will be your companions mostly.”

Jimin looked down at the hearty meal in front of him before digging in. “That will be very nice. Thank you.” He said around a mouthful of potatoes.

True to their words, the castle and grounds were left wide open for the curious Jimin. He woke up to a wonderful outfit slung on the mannequin; suits, coats, wonderful silks and soft cashmeres to drape over his body. The wardrobe – Hoseok, had returned, helping Jimin dress for the day’s adventures.

Jimin would eat breakfast in his room, sitting at the edge of the pool where – he wondered if it was his imagination – the water seemed to move to entertain him. He would climb over stiles; sniff the glowing flowers, count stars and fireflies if he stayed out too late. The castle, upon inspection was vast. Huge statues imposed upon him, Grecian, roman and baroque architecture worked itself seamlessly in the palace and he had fun listening to Namjoon talking about each was worked in or acquired.

He was very rarely alone.

The Guides, as the staff called the small pups were always with him. He had learned their names from Taehyung, the tea cup. The fluffy brown one was Holly, a pair of small Pomeranians that shaded darker was Mickey and Yeontan and then finally a pure white one named Monnie.

They led him in and out the lands, sometimes through a grotto where the only thing that nestled was a pair of entwined huge statues. He had stopped and stared up at them for quite a while. They were probably the biggest in the entire castle, both wearing a pained, sorrowed expression that bore Jimin’s own heart down. He didn’t venture in that particular grotto again. It felt too…private somehow.

Jimin was given dinner in the main dining room, the long table decked out only for him. He would sometimes cast a look upon the opposite chair, feeling lonely even if he had multiple entities to talk to.

The Princess never came upon in Jimin’s presence for days. He could sometimes hear the paws of her feet on the floor when he was roaming about, but she never once tried to impose herself on him. It was almost as if she watched him watch her home from afar.

Something in Jimin tugged when he thought about home, how he had completely left behind his straggly little town for this palatial world. He missed his father terribly yes, but here in the estate that he was free to roam, with people whose knowledge he was free to peck at, the silence had turned blissful very quickly.

Thoughts of escape never strayed further from his mind but for now, he wanted to stay cocooned in this silence.

It was almost two weeks till he was made aware of the very real presence of the mysterious Princess. He was used to her being a phantom by now so when the Guides playfully nipped at each other, chasing down a corridor, Jimin followed at ease, not feeling the pricks of unease until he reached the darker end of the corridor.

It was a whole quarter, possibly belonging to one of the royal family. He peeked into the empty bath before venturing further into the darkened opening.

The palace that had been warmed by fire for their new guest – or prisoner, however Jimin wanted to look at it had failed here. There was an odd chill running through the walls, as if someone had sucked the temperature and doused the room in ice.

The furniture was all dusty, clearly not attended to, and silver and cream paint peeled from the walls. He could almost spy the moss that collected in the cracks of the walls before he came to stand in front of the wall of paintings.

Each and every face on the walls, Jimin noted had been slashed. It was a brutal mutilation, clearly from the Princess’s claws. There was one painting that remained, of what had to be the royal couple. A tall, regal man stood at the side of an equally prim lady who sat on an armchair. One of his hands clasped her shoulders while hers held on to a young child, poised delicately upon her knee.

The child, a girl wasn’t having it though. He could tell the struggle of her flailing arms and kicking feet yet her face was void of distress. Instead he stared at the laughing, playing child, baby curls fluttering around her ears, thick fingers and chubby cheeks – the full deal. A small golden tiara nestled upon her head, crooked from her movement.

The picture was so happy; it brought a catch to Jimin’s throat, looking back up at the couple, tearing his eyes from the once human Princess. There was something hauntingly familiar about the faces yet Jimin couldn’t put his finger on it.

So engrossed he was, in staring at the pictures, moving on to where he tried to put together shredded pieces of the painting together that he failed to notice the silence. There was no yapping of the puppies to be heard and this silence was anything but comfortable.

When the door squeaked open, Jimin turned, coming face to face with the monster who had been diligently avoiding him. Half her furry face was shadowed, but he could tell from the single wide open yellow eye that he wasn’t an expected sight.

The eyes darted from his face to his hands, placed upon the paintings. Jimin had barely opened his mouth, to apologize, to explain, perhaps to snap but the Princess had already dropped to her haunches, a low growl ripping through the back of her throat.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? HOW DARE YOU COME HERE?”

Jimin stumbled back, pressing against the wall as the monstrous Princess leapt, scrambling towards the paintings and covering them up.

“I…I was just,”

“LEAVE! I WANT YOU OUT. GO! NOW,”

Jimin had heard enough and it presented a brilliant opportunity to him. She wanted him to leave. He could leave.

So quick he was, sidestepping the crouching girl that he had no time to see her fall to the floor, the cloak that covered and hid her body wrapped protectively around as a whimper replaced her roars. The Princess’s sobs never reached Jimin’s ears.

He didn’t wait to find any of the household staff. He knew that they would ultimately attempt to stop him, try to make sense of the Princess’s commands. So he hurried down the stairs and out the side to where he’d found the stables.

His own Geureum was gone, with his father but he yanked on the reins of a white stallion; titled Jjangu on his crest. Jimin saddled the panicking horse blindly, patting it only once to soothe it before he was mounting and taking off in the distance of the town.

Your roaring yells had reached the ears of the household, of course. Namjoon was the first to respond, sliding into the royal quarters; his wooden stand skidding as he found you curled up under the one painting that you couldn’t bring yourself to destroy.

It was your family portrait, commissioned just two years before your lives would change forever and while you had torn up every picture of your face that hung up, you couldn’t destroy your parent’s.

Namjoon could tell from the shudders that shook your form that you were just finishing crying. Propriety dictated that he wouldn’t trespass on a royal in distress but you were his charge, he had raised you, taught you, attempted to feed you since he could bring your fear and panic at being transformed into a beast to heel.

“Princess…Y/N,” He coaxed, golden bars running through the shaggy mass where your hair would be. His heart ached at the soft sniffles that sounded too loud because you…you weren’t human after all.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. And it’s okay to not be, you won’t be less of a person for your troubles.”

You raised your head with a deep scoffing laugh. “I am not a person, Namjoon. I’m a monster; a loathsome creature.”

The clock ticked angrily but didn’t prod the issue. “The boy -,”

“Left; I scared him off. That’s that then.”

Namjoon shook his head, casting a glance out to where the snow had become wilder, until only white could be seen. “Your highness, he left in a terrible condition. He’ll get lost.”

“I don’t care.”

“Princess, Namjoon,” Two heads turned to where Seokjin rushed in, candles burning on his many wicks. “The boy, Jimin, he has taken off on your horse! He’s taken Jjangu.”

“WHAT IN THE WORLD?” You screeched loudly enough for both grown men…objects to flinch. “MY HORSE…HOW COULD HE DARE, HE -,”

“Princess, the wolves, if the wolves find them, it will be too late,” Seokjin murmured softly.

There was a heavy pregnant pause in which Namjoon and Seokjin stared at their Mistress, holding her shaggy head aloft as if she was praying for pity. Finally, under the gaze of your caretakers and advisors, you slumped, admitting defeat.

“Alright, alright, I suppose we can’t leave him to die in the blizzard.”

When you had first transformed, a howl had been the first thing that had scared you. Your small hands and feet had turned into paws, huge claws protruding from the nails. Your hair seemed to grow everywhere until you were taught that it was fur, too coarse and too matted to be what had been a well taken care of head of hair.

Your first memories after the transformation had been running away, tripping and falling multiple times because you weren’t used to your new body until Namjoon and Yoongi had found you, cowering under a broken branch. Howls had pushed you into a scared ball and when they’d found you, they’d spoken. You could still remember a clock and a teapot trying to act brave as a single wolf, too big and gleaming in the moonlight curled back its lips, issuing the threat that had locked you in your castle forever.

Of course, with age and your guardian’s patience you had honed your new abilities; speed, agility, strength and keen senses.

It was easy finding your fearful horse and Jimin, running on all fours as if a wolf yourself. Your ears pricked, picking up the yells of the man and whinnying as wolves surrounded your charges on all sides.

It was stupid to charge in head first, but when you saw a wolf snap Jimin’s weapon, a single stick in two between its jaws, it was exactly what you did.

Your first powerful spring, landed you clean behind Jimin’s now buckled body. The wolves immediately halted, intelligent eyes darting from the curling boy at your feet back to you, tongues rolling perversely.

You felt rather than saw Jimin raise his head, wondering why the wolves hadn’t ended him already. When he felt the larger presence behind him, he turned, gaping up at you as you placed one paw to the front, marking a line, marking a territory.

Loud snaps surrounded you, the wolves reorganizing till they circled you now, ready to attack from every direction.

Your eyes, however, sought one wolf out, finding its way back, sitting on its hind legs, tail wrapped around them. You snarled at it, the wolf obviously smirking at you before it rose up, stalking over to the head of the pack. It gave a short yap and the wolves, in once sleek, collective move, pounced.

You only had time to jump over Jimin, drawing the attack away from the human and your precious horse before you felt the first swipe of claws at your back. You whirled around, your own paws frantically hitting and lashing out, trying to bat away as many wolves as you could with as much force as you could muster.

You knew you couldn’t kill them, of course but it wouldn’t be for the lack of trying.

The wolves landed as many blows as they could on you, punishing you, sinking in teeth around your wrist, snapping around your ankles until you could smell the warm, metal in the air, from mostly your wounds.

“Enough,” You finally heard the one wolf, it’s comrades backing away with one word until you were left, swaying, eye to eye with its imperious gaze.

“Back off.” You growled but the only reply you got was a rough snicker, animalistic and feral.

“We would, just to see you fail in this attempt, Princess. We still wait for our master, and the day he becomes King, we shall have the boy for dinner. Another time,” The wolf tipped its tail at you, before turning and trotting off.

Jimin only raised his head when the sounds he could hear was the stamps of the horse’s hoofs, the whistling of the wind through his hair. When he peeked through slatted eyes, he could see you, tall, bulky, standing up to your full height as he caught the wolf farther away, dainty steps carrying it till it melted in the snow.

Jimin’s black robes that he hadn’t changed when he rushed out where wet, dirty again and he picked himself up, trying not to make too much sound lest you turn and put him through the same assault as you had the wolves.

He had heard the heavy thuds of your paws, the throwing around of the wolves as they banged against trees and rocks. He knew you could shatter his skull with one paw but then he’d also heard your screams of pain, each singing through him as you tried to keep the wolves away from him and your horse.

He reached the reins, about to climb on when he saw the horse’s eyes for the first time. They were wide, the neck bobbing as it tried to free itself from Jimin’s holding.

Jimin frowned, turning from the horse to where you stood and for the first time, he saw the damage inflicted upon you. Your heavy cloak had been ripped to tatters, hanging off of you in ribbons that exposed him to you. You wore pants, to contain the large hind legs, a simple men’s shirt. It was now smeared in stark red, the crimson pooling from your feet and arms into the pure snow below.

He watched as you tilted to the side, your weight finally tipping extreme and you collapsed, snow and blood flying from the impact.

Jimin turned to the horse again, reading the pain in the horse’s eyes.

It loved you.

Jimin once again turned to where your body lay, shivering just so slightly.

You were just a child, a cursed little baby girl.

Jimin’s mind flooded with images of a small girl in the painting, phantom giggles in his ears.

You saved him. He couldn’t leave you to die.

Jimin dropped the reins, his feet sinking into the inches deep snow as he ran over to you, kneeling down to turn your face towards him.

Your eyes were long closed, your mouth parted just enough for him to see the fangs within but he looked past that. Your fur was wet, both from the melting snow but also from your blood and as he cupped your huge head, he knew you wouldn’t last in this cold. Already, your breathing was erratic, your chest falling further with each exhale.

He looked to the horse that trotted closer, responding to the man who was helping his owner. It took severe effort, hefting the Princess but Jjangu was unexpectedly strong. The Princess lay across the horse, feet and head dangling and swaying as Jimin took the reins again, deciding to walk as he made his way back to the Castle, your home.

If the household staff was surprised to see Jimin back again, especially with an injured Princess lobbed across her horse, they didn’t express it. Instead they swarmed, concerned around where Jimin heaved and unceremoniously dropped the Princess at the base of the stairs.

While a coat rack took a shivering Jjangu back to the stables to be fed and warmed, Jimin helped the rest of the objects drag their Mistress to the sitting room.

“Great, what’s she gotten into now?” He heard as he unbuttoned his coat, rolling up his shirt sleeves.

“Not now, Jungkook; she’s injured badly, near death. Either help, or stay out of the way as always.”

Jimin tilted his head towards the sullen reply, straining to hear. “Gladly, if I never see her face, it will be too soon. She’s the reason we’re like this, or have you forgotten?”

“Jungkook, that’s enough!” He heard the low angry rasp of Namjoon’s voice when there was a shuffle in his eyesight.

The Princess seemed to be able to tell that she was safe again, grunting and whining as she sat propped up in a huge winged armchair. Her tattered robes had been shed off, her modesty preserved by the fact that she was entirely covered in fur but Jimin kept his eyes averted respectfully anyway. Her large legs were drawn up as she clutched her wounded, slashed appendage close to her body.

As Yoongi hobbled over, full of hot water, followed by medicine bottles on a spidery tray that clattered, Jimin ripped bandages. He filled up a golden bowl with the steaming water, dipping medicine and cloths in it.

The moment he stood up, intending to nurse the Princess, she flinched, surprising Jimin as she cowered away from him. She turned her back, and he could hear a distinct whimper, as she licked at her injuries.

She’s not used to being vulnerable, Jimin realized, his slack frame pushed to movement with the fear that her licking and prodding would infect and worsen the slashes.

“Now, now, don’t do that.” He moved too fast, grabbing a hold of the Princess’s shoulder and was immediately met with a wide open maw, her ferocious roar shifting his hair back.

Jimin dropped his hand, scowling at the stubborn slump of her arm, drawn back to her tongue. “You’ll make it worse. Just let me help.”

“It hurts.” She snapped when Jimin leaned right over her, attempting to wipe at the mangled arm.

“If you hold still, maybe it won’t.” Jimin tried to keep his voice steady, not wanting to snap at the already pained girl. Her screams at the biting and slashing wolves were still too fresh in Jimin’s mind. He wanted to show some kindness but she was just so…pigheaded.

“Maybe if you hadn’t run away, I wouldn’t be hurt.”

Jimin raised his eyebrows at her petulant tone. If he wasn’t already aware, he would’ve believed the Princess to still be a child at the sullen note of her voice. Something tugged at the corners of his lips as she attempted to cross her arms; the clawed up one still dangling in his hold.

“You told me to leave, remember?”

“I didn’t mean the castle.”

Jimin dropped the bloodied cloth in a waste bowl. “I suppose the lesson here is that you should watch your temper, isn’t it?” He made an exaggerated show of dipping another cloth in the medicine bowl, ignoring the Princess as she huffed and dropped her huge head on an equally huge paw, distinctly pouting.

“Please hold still now, this is going to pinch some.” He used the same tone as he would on his father, concentrating at digging out some remaining bits of grime from the claw marks. A few of his swipes made the Princess cringe and try to pull away but not once did her strength win against his sharp glances and sudden tightening of grips as he repeated the process on her feet.

Finally as he did the bandages he spoke again.

“Thank you, for saving my life.”

The Princess was quiet for so long that Jimin had to chance a look up, catching her quickly smoothening her expression into one of nonchalance. “You’re welcome.” She growled lowly.

But Jimin had already seen the bitten lips, the downward slope of her brow and the glassiness of her eyes.

He stayed right there, on the floor at her feet for a while, until the Princess, who had been staring into the fireplace had her eyes drooping. He stood when he was sure she was asleep, snores shuffling the fur near her mouth and nose.

Jimin folded back the sleeves on his muddy shirt. He knew he needed to change his clothes if he wanted to stay well, if he was sick as well, who would take care of the Princess? He hardly thought Seokjin’s candle hands or Namjoon’s golden bars would be able to change soiled bandages and he could already feel a chill coming.

Placing a huge blanket on the sleeping Princess, he went up to his room to change.

“How is she?” Hoseok asked immediately, as he shuffled inside for something to wear.

“She’ll have a few days with that bandage. It’ll probably scar.” Jimin answered tiredly, dropping his clothes and entering the bath where Yoongi was already pouring hot water in the tub.

“Thank you,” Yoongi said as he stood by. Jimin turned his head to look at the gleaming pot in question. “For not leaving her to die,” Yoongi clarified.

“Of course not…I will admit I had the thought but, I couldn’t. Not after she’d risked hers to save mine and Jjangu.”

“Jjangu was a gift foal from her father. She loves the animal more than anything.” Jimin heard before with a click of the bathroom door, he was alone.

He sighed, laying his head back along the porcelain edge. He was desperately exhausted, aching and needed to sleep, but there was a gnawing in his chest. He knew the Princess was in good hands now; he would only be needed when she needed her bandages changed and he knew she could manage that herself but he found it difficult to not be worried for the girl that somehow seemed so small and scared in all her ferocious enormity.

“Maybe…maybe I could try to be her friend.” Jimin mumbled, more to himself than anything as he closed his eyes.

Jimin took his vow seriously.

The first thing he did when his eyes popped open and fell on the customary outfit left for him; a simple powder blue shirt and black trousers – was to jump up and get dressed even before Hoseok had opened the eyes on top of it.

Quietly, he made his way down to where the Princess was still snoozing in the chair, flinging open curtains and inching closer just in case she woke up and panicked.

“Princess,” Jimin called gently, her head moving just so. “Your highness, wake up.”

With a groggy groan, her head fell towards his direction, yellow eyes blinking open in the filtering morning light.

And to the Princess’s dawning wonder and shock, Jimin gave her a beautiful, wide grin; possibly the most beautiful sight she had ever witnessed in her life.

From then on, both Jimin and Y/N tried to make an effort.

Y/N still felt her temper flare up quick as a snake’s attack but she quelled it in fear of the look on Jimin’s face. Jimin learned that despite her age, the Princess was still just a sheltered child who knew only what had been told to her.

Jimin tried to get you to participate in various activities. He taught you a few card tricks with a very old battered set that Seokjin unearthed, he told you stories of France, his life, what the world had to offer outside of the small town that had forgotten and abandoned her, he even tried to paint with her – although that ended in a disaster that had Yoongi steaming from his spout, Taehyung quickly sent to supervise the cleaning.

You, on the other hand, took Jimin outside.

Even though, Jimin had had the Guides to lead him places, no one knew the Castle and its grounds like you did, having spent fifteen years prowling and growing in it.

You allowed him to ride Jjangu while you walked, sometimes raced him. He had to change your bandages multiple times during these rides, noting with some joy that you healed faster than a human.

With four wild puppies and Jjangu, you took him to the top of a stile where in the falling night; he could count a multitude of stars and constellations. You threw Jimin in fountains; let him sift through flowers in the crumbling greenhouse, taste the fruits from the Grottos.

“My parents,” you pointed with a clawed finger, up at the huge entwined statues that had haunted Jimin before. He looked, focused on their faces more now, recognizing them from the portrait.

“Are they…gone?”

“No, just left frozen, to watch over what happens to me,”

Jimin turned to see you staring down at your palms, the story of the curse now making him enraged for your sake rather than sad. However, he kept mum, afraid of upsetting you rather than providing comfort. Instead, he took your huge gnarled hand, leading you quietly back.

Jimin and you took meals together now, lunches and dinners. He had unintentionally grimaced when he saw you simply lower your face and devour the food directly from the bowls and plates. In time, once he saw you try for him sake, he realized that your hands were simply too big for the dainty silverware and fragile glass goblets that fitted so perfectly in his.

So the next meal, Jimin surprised you by asking Taehyung to simply not provide any at all, raising his own bowl to his lips to eat as you did.

Your smile, huge, fanged, fur creasing in the corners of your mouth yet so happy, golden hue shining in your eyes, made him make it a habit to accommodate you, rather than ask you to change for him.

“Can I open them now?”

Jimin followed the trail of your cloak, sight barred by his hands as you attempted to lead him off for a surprise. You had been excited, the morning you simply strode into his room before he was even dressed. He had rushed behind Hoseok, who laughed at the pink of his cheeks and flustered backing away from you, until you claimed that ‘it was ready’ as he hurriedly put some clothes on.

“Not yet,”

Jimin heard the creak of doors, the clangs of curtain rings and felt the warmth of the sun on his skin.

“Okay, open them.”

Jimin dropped his hands with an indulgent smile, first looking at where you stood at the window, paws clasped together, and a nervous grin on your animal face. Your ears stood on point, waiting for his reaction as Jimin’s eyes wandered…and then widened till they were ready to pop right out.

It was a library.

A wonderful, glorious library, better than the dingy bookshop in town, better than any he’d seen in Paris. This was better than anything anyone could create in the whole world. Towering till the eye could see, with ladders and actual staircases leading up, his neck strained trying to fathom just how many books there were there.

“Oh my god,”

“Do you like it?”

Jimin looked down at where you were nearly vibrating with nervous energy.

“I had it cleaned, that’s what took so long. Seokjin told me you loved reading so I thought you should have this. I don’t know if everything is alright, but I checked last night and,” You stopped rambling when Jimin said your name. It was just a soft whisper but it tore a shiver through you at the tenderness, the fondness in it.

You had never heard anyone speak to you like that – not even your caretakers.

Jimin was practically aglow. His eyes shone as if someone lit coals underneath, his teeth blinded with the power of his smile, before his eyes turned to invisible slits.

“I absolutely love it, Y/N. Thank you; no one has ever done something like this for me before. This is perfect.” He strode forwards, his hand reaching for your face where his fingers nestled within the shaggy fur on your cheeks. He kept his smile fixed, nails gently scratching as your breath caught at the affection.

Jimin stared up at you, his own eyes and face sobering at the wide eyed look on your face. His fingers slowed till they just rested there, the both of you staring at one another.

“Ahem,” Jimin finally cleared his throat, removing his hand from your face. Was that disappointment he saw across your face? He turned to the shelves. “What shall we read first?”

Something thudded in Jimin’s chest, racing his blood with adrenaline as you and he sat on the floor in the sitting room, books strewn around you and the fireplace bathing you in heat.

“…and they lived happily ever after.” Jimin finished, closing the fifth book.

He had laughed and placed his head on yours when he discovered that you loved stories as much as he did. You had demanded him to read for you with one, two and the next three books. Jimin had happily obliged, enjoying the way you now sprawled on your front, arms cradling your head, looking at him with such a rapturous expression, he could melt.

“Read…one more…?” Jimin looked down to where you slid another book in his lap. Your eyes were big, hopeful and the rush of emotion that swirled in Jimin’s stomach was nowhere polite. He thought back to Hyebin, wanting to be married to him and yet knowing that she would fall asleep at the one thing Jimin was so passionate about. He cursed himself for the comparison. There was none. Hyebin wouldn’t even occupy the shadow of who you were.

“Y/N…I’m tired. How about you read for me now?” he leaned back on his arms, nudging the book back at you.

You paused, sitting up slowly before taking the book in your huge hands.

“I…I’ll rip it.”

“I’ll fix it back for you.” Jimin said immediately.

Your face fell as you opened the book, taking some time to flip it to the first page. Jimin watched; somewhat concerned as you slowly read the first of the fairytales.

“Once…up – on, a time…”

“Y/N, love,” Jimin had no time to worry about the endearment that slipped his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I can’t,”

“Can’t…read…?” He guessed.

You nodded quickly, fearfully.

“Oh, I thought Namjoon taught you.”

“Alphabets, a little book of stories and history…but I…I can’t read big literature. I can’t even hold books.”

Jimin’s heart cracked as you glared fiercely at your hands again.

“No matter, I’ll teach you, here, come now. I’ll hold the book for you.” Jimin grabbed the book, holding it open for you as he slowly, pronounced the words, you following him.

Behind you, unbeknownst to both of you, Yoongi, Namjoon, Seokjin and Taehyung sighed dreamily.

“Think they’re in love yet?” Jungkook drawled from behind them.

“Not just yet, I suppose, but they’re getting there.” Namjoon said.

“They need one more push.” Yoongi muttered.

“And what better than…a ball,” Seokjin glanced at Taehyung, wearing identical smirks.

Hyebin lay on her front, draped along the chaise in a manner that would have most men in the town be willing to do her bidding. The one she wanted, however, hadn’t even gone past the town in ages. She was bored; dejected from the lack of attention and her brother – she cast a venomous look to where her older sibling paced in front of the fireplace – hadn’t done a thing for her.

“Don’t look at me like that, Hyebin. I’m thinking.” Kai said, catching her eye.

“Well, perhaps you could think later. Isn’t this the time for action?” Hyebin cupped her face.

“Not yet; your impulse is what ruined your chances with the boy in the first place.”

Hyebin scowled.

“But don’t you worry your pretty head, darling sister, for your brother has a wonderful plan in mind.”

“Which is…?”

“Never mind you, you will go about ruining things and Jimin won’t marry you as well. You will only blame me.”

Hyebin slammed a small fist on the chaise. “Kai…tell me!” She whined but Kai only walked to the door, opening it as he tossed her a cloak. “Come on, we’re going to play nice and talk it out with Park Jimin.”

Much to their disappointment, however, and to Hyebin’s rage, when they arrives at the cottage of the Parks, it was completely dark. Not even one candle had been lit on the porch.

Kai knocked; once, twice, thrice even yelled for both Jimin and Mr. Park but the only thing to reply was the keening silence.

“They’re not here.” He mused.

“You don’t think they…left, do you?” Hyebin whispered.

“All their things are still here.” Kai’s eyebrows creased, flickers of annoyance and true anger flaming in his own eyes. “Well, we won’t stop. They have to come back some day. We’ll be ready.” He ignored the smack of his sister’s hand at his back, striding back towards the pub.

He needed a drink.

When you entered your quarters after a day of playing in the gardens with Jimin, watching him weave a crown of roses and dandelions which he placed on your head, you weren’t expecting to see Seokjin standing there with a bunch of standees and mannequins that used to be ladies in waiting for your mother.

“Um…Seokjin,” You queried even as you were swarmed with too many ceramic hands.

“’Tis the day, your highness, it is the day of your birthday! We have to have a ball in the honor!” Seokjin exclaimed.

You were shoved in a tub full of hot water and bubbles, the soap soaking into your fur. The words were enough to shoot a tendril of doubt through your heart, snaking till it looped around and squeezed. Your breath deepened as the mannequins began to scrub at you, rubbing in the water and soap till it reached the skin underneath.

It was your birthday already? No, it couldn’t be. You would remain a monster for all eternity otherwise. You would be condemned to live like this. Loveless, because who would look at you and feel anything but disgust and terror?

“Seokjin, my birthday isn’t till one another day.” You reminded the Maitre D` from behind the screen.

“The actual day isn’t of import, Princess. Besides,” He lowered his voice, “the day of your birthday will be the last day of the curse. It is make or break for us. You have to tell Jimin of your feelings for him and he has to return it. We simply cannot leave these things till the last minute.”

You remained silent, watching the mannequins use huge metal buffers to file and shine your claws.

“You…you do – you do have feelings for him, don’t you Your Highness?” Seokjin asked, misreading your silence.

You sighed, dipping further down into the water. Of course you had feelings for Park Jimin. Only an idiot would have a man like him around and not fall for his kindness, his generosity, and his open mind. Also, the small slants of his eyes, the way his lips split to reveal a gleaming smile that could halt an army, with shiny dark hair that fell into his eyes.

He was an angel.

And you were a hideous beast…

“It’s not my feelings that are a problem, Seokjin. How can someone like him ever feel for me, unless it’s fear? Maybe I haven’t earned his affection still.”

“Ah phish-posh, you forget, dearest Princess; we have all watched you and him very closely. We have seen the way he looks at you. Only a man that loves someone will have such a beam to their face.”

You sunk down further, Seokjin’s words easing the nervous grip in your chest a little. Perhaps…you did stand a chance. You could tell him of how you felt, he would tell you what he felt, and maybe you and your people can become human again.

You held the hope close as you were ushered to your own wardrobe, gowns that you had never once had the occasion of wearing, now shoved against your body and you into them, made to twirl in front of a huge mirror to check for anything to improve.

The time had come.

The gown that both Seokjin and the lady in waiting had chosen was approved by Hoseok finally, him making you swish the skirt and twirl in front of it, while pins and needles were floating around you, just in case things needed to be loosened or tightened anywhere.

You, who for almost all your life had only donned on the left behind clothes of your father of the male staff had almost giggled at the fancy attention, enjoying the feel of silk and gossamer curling around you and pooling out from your waist.

The dress was a pale gold and silver, shimmering with crimson jewels strewn about the skirt. A heavy diamond brooch glittered to where the bodice and neckline fell in a waterfall of fabric and your hair had been lifted from the mass of fur at your neck, rolled up elegantly till it lay in a soft mass on top of your head.

“Your highness,” Seokjin said finally and you were surprised at the sniff he let out discreetly. “You look beautiful. Come, your gentleman waits.”

You followed the candelabrum, exiting the room as Seokjin led you to the ballroom, to where the stairs led up to where royals made their grand entrance. You could hear light conversations down below and if you close your eyes, you could almost imagine that it was really a ball of people come to wish you good fortune on your birthday.

Maybe, if you could put aside your doubts and the harsh truths that crushed hope in your chest, you could have it someday soon.

You heard the Maestro, now transformed into a sprawling Organ, strike up a tune and Seokjin swished a golden bracket, gesturing you to walk down.

You lifted up the enormous skirts, praying to anything divine that your claws, now shortened down and sparkling, wouldn’t rip the dress anywhere and walked down the stairs, seeing everyone gathered at the base of the staircase, smiling up.

Mostly, though, you only noticed Jimin.

It was true, you hadn’t paid much attention to what kind of clothes Hoseok had been putting on Jimin for the duration of his stay here. Before, it used to be rich fabrics and embellishments that glimmered with his movements. The moment of your friendship and he began to step out had caused for simple cloths, sans coats and cloaks unless it was snowing.

Now, Hoseok seemed to have pulled all stops.

The suit that Jimin wore was all black, form fitting with studded rubies along the lapels and buttons the same shade as yours. Gold lace wound around his neck and his hair shone with the same effort, as if he’d undergone the treatment you had as well.

He smiled widely when your eyes met his, stepping forward till he reached you.

“You’re stunning.” He said and you could only muster a shaky smile, fluttering from the sincere compliment. “Happy Birthday, Y/N,” he whispered, bowing as he extended a hand for you to take.

You let your paw rest gently on his, deliberate and careful not to let him feet the real weight of it. “Thank you,” you managed a smile as wide as his, before the rest of your household gathered around you, wishes poured out and rushed words carrying you off to the cake.

Jimin was excited to see the cake, three tiers of it. Y/N’s eyes popped open wide, gaping at the sheer size of it but even as he grabbed her hand, leading her to cut into it; she was looking down, trying to muffle a smile.

He had to commend Yoongi and the entire kitchen staff. The cake was rich, fudgy and even he was rushing after that very last crumble. Finally, he felt the nudge of Taehyung, the cup around his ankle and he moved into action.

“Could I request for the birthday girl to bestow me a dance, your highness?” He stood up from his chair, slyly winking over to where Y/N put down her plate quickly, looking almost as if she was going to laugh.

“Of course, kind sir but I should warn you – I may step on your toes.”

Jimin chuckled, pulling her onto the glittering marble dance floor. “I don’t mind; you can step on my toes anytime.”

Y/N blinked down at him, Jimin could feel her breath catch at the way he would his arm around her waist and clasped her hand and couldn’t help but smile. She tried not to, moving slowly along with the way he led her, her attention focused down mostly to keep from actually crushing his feet when he stopped moving.

“Come on, let’s go look at the stars. Tonight, they’re as much more gorgeous than ever, as if they’re shining solely for you.”

He walked back with Y/N in tow, opening the balcony doors and letting her go out first before he shut them again, turning to see her stand at the rails, looking up where the stars mirrored in her golden eyes, twinkling in the sky and on the earth alike.

“So,” Jimin cleared his throat, gaining her attention again. “Are you enjoying your early birthday festivities?”

Big eyes blinked yet again at him, something shifting beneath as they were lowered. “I am, much more than I would usually, I suppose. I haven’t had a birthday in fifteen years.”

It was Jimin’s turn to blink, only in horror. “Not one in fifteen years?” he asked.

“Well, Taehyung tried, for the first two years, but then…I had no one to share it with. I had no one.”

Jimin closed in to where she stood with her back to him. His hand ached to rest along her cheek, turn her so he could look at her face but he resisted. “You have me now.”

She still didn’t turn. “Jimin…” A breath was drawn, as if steeling her for some deep resolve. He watched as your shoulders, clad in golden shimmers he wasn’t used to seeing her in slumped finally. “Are you happy here, with me?”

Jimin’s first instinct was to blurt out a simple ‘yes’. Was he happy here? Yes, he had everything he could possibly dream of and more here. He had the library, the gardens, the long winding hallways, the grottos…the silence, oh god, the blissful silence where no one bore down on him, no one judged him for not eyeing girls, not being interested in hanging out around the pub, not being Kai’s lackeys.

Was he happy with you? Of course, he, for the first time, felt someone was completely understanding and kind to him. No matter that he was perhaps the first to show her human kindness too but she let him be when he needed, listened to him read, asked him questions and challenged him. She fulfilled him in a way no one had.

No, they were two whole people. They had just found fulfillment in each other, and he was happy to call her home as much as the castle. He was happy. He was content.

Y/N didn’t seem satisfied. Her head turned fractionally, peering at him in such a fashion as to confuse Jimin. “Wouldn’t you ask for anything else, if you could? There must be something more you could ask for.��

Jimin hesitated, once again hand hovering over her but unable to touch. “I…yes,” he sighed, dropping his hand. “I would ask to see my father again but,” he quickly rushed on, lest she be upset. “I know I can’t, so I won’t press for it.”

She turned finally, too fast for him to not be startled. “There is a way. You can see your father.”

Jimin frowned, crossing his arms, more to protect himself against the temptation than defiance. “How?”

The Princess quietly walked by him, opening the doors and carrying on, Jimin taking a moment to follow hurriedly after her, still confused and a little worried before he realized that they were tracking a familiar path to his room.

“You had a way of seeing your father all the time.” Y/N spoke, stopping by the pool in the centre of the room. She bent down over it, gesturing for Jimin to join her. “You can call out for the waters to show you what you wish for. The waters even have healing abilities. The Wizard’s token, left behind to torment me with everything I can’t see but still so that I wouldn’t be able to harm myself in any way.”

Jimin heard it all; unnerved by the way someone could hurt a little child. Yet, the allure of seeing his father was way more than the urge to console the Princess. He sat at the edge as Y/N drew away to give him space.

“Please, show me my father.” Jimin said, his voice sounding desperate even to his own ears.

The water swirled clear, one turn, two turns before deepening into a whirlpool. Images swirled at the very bed of the pool, bubbling up till they hovered over the spin of the water. Jimin watched eyes tearing from horror as his father stumbled from one tree branch, to another, panting, struggling to stay on his feet.

“Oh no, father.” He nearly shouted, before remembering his father couldn’t hear him.

“Jimin, Jimin, Jimin,” his father chanted before finally dropping down into the snow, shuddering and curling up in the frigid ground.

“No!” He sprang to his feet, the illusion breaking with his movement, subsiding into the waters again, still and clear. “My father, he’s sick. He’s alone, wandering the woods, looking for me. He could be dying. Y/N, the wolves…what if the wolves find him?”

Jimin turned around to look at you, facing the window, silent as before. He wondered if you had heard him at all.

You had heard him.

Your ears pricked, flattening against the side of your head as you processed the frantic desperation to Jimin’s voice, your mind racing with a million thoughts.

You thought back to your childhood, soft smiles and misty words now fogged with time…and then all you remembered was pain. The pain of changing and growing too many sizes too big, the eruptions of the fur, claws, having to get used to them. The pain of being unable to eat and the consequent process of starvation until Namjoon figured out how to feed you – like a dog.

The fear of being hunted mingled with the uninterrupted loneliness that no matter how much your staff tried to ebb, would never cease.

You remembered back to spending hours upon hours with the statues of your parents, wailing when it got too much, with even your own people afraid to approach you.

Then you thought back to the first day you’d met Jimin; brave and strong and so sacrificing, martyring himself for his father to stay here…with you; showing you kindness, helping you, teaching you, and even saving your life.

He’d sparked companionship for you.

How were you repaying it?

By holding him captive here? You had seen the devastation on his face that first night, the same pain that had been your constant. How could you claim to feel anything for him when you were hurting him?

You had lost everything as a child, and you had grown up used to it. You couldn’t put Jimin through the fresh agony of it. He had a life to get back to, loving people to help him.

He was human. He didn’t deserve to live with a paltry princess living in a curse.

And with that came the final blow…

How could he love someone who had torn him apart from his father? How could Jimin be fond of someone who had basically subjected his father to a pitiful, lonely death?

So you quelled the cry of your heart, steeling bands of iron around it until you could nurse its break alone. You made the decision simply because it was already set in place.

“You should go. Go back to him.” You said quietly.

There was a pause.

“What did you say?” You heard him, too close to you and you flinched away from his proximity.

“I grant you your freedom. You’re no longer my prisoner.” You turned to face him, grateful for the fur that absorbed any stray tears before they were obvious.

Jimin’s eyes were shiny as well, but you knew they were tears of joy. He gaped, his breath catching before he spoke, choked up – “Thank you.”

You watched, leaning against the window as he hurried to take off the heavy coat, instead shrugging on a simple, heavier cloak. He pulled on boots, easier to wade in the snow.

You, on the other hand, went to one of the dressers, unearthing a vial and moving to the pool, dipping and collecting the water in the shimmering glass.

“I’ll be back before you know it, Y/N. I think I’ll have to bring my father along sometime – convince him that you’re actually a big softie, none of the roaring monster that you were so kind enough to act as.”

His voice was teasing; light, even jovial as he eagerly approached you. You remained silent, handing him the vial.

“Here, take this. It’ll be useful to you. If you need to be healed…or it can help you remember me.”

Jimin’s smile faltered, looking from the proffered container back up to your eyes, now obviously dripping.

“I’m not going to be very long, Y/N. At least, not long enough for me to forget you.” He laughed, still pocketing the vial when you didn’t withdraw it. Sighing, you shook your enormous head.

“No…you can’t come back. You have to stay away. Stay with your father.” You refused to meet his eyes.

“Wait, what…what are you saying? What do you mean I have to stay away?”

“It means that you shouldn’t come back to the castle.” Your voice broke. “You have to stay in the town, maybe even go back to Paris. Live your life, Jimin; you have the rest of it. You deserve much better than living in a dilapidated castle with a monster.”

“No! No, I can’t…Y/N; you’re part of my life. I can’t…I can’t just, let you think that of yourself and your home. Y/N, you’re so important to me.”

He was reaching for you, his hand going to wrap around yours but you backed away quickly, unable to let him touch you lest you break down and beg for him to come back, to stay with you. You wouldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject him to that.

You loved him too much for that.

Instead, you fled, turning on your heel and exiting the room on all fours, ignoring his rough calls of your name. You knew he wouldn’t waste time chasing you, not with his father in that state, not with the threat of the wolves hanging about his head.

When you entered your room, your whole staff was already present, with expectant beams on their faces. You even spied Jungkook in the midst, the feather duster nearly reeking of disdain.

“Well, how did it go? Did he say it back?” Seokjin nearly shook from excitement.

You dropped your head, already dreading their reaction. “I…I let him go. His father is sick. He needed to go back.”

There was a silence so deep, so disappointed; you inwardly cringed even when Jungkook broke it with a caustic snicker.

“But…but we were so close. Why would you do that, Princess?” Namjoon asked.

You walked to the window, throwing them open to see the last vestiges of hooves vanishing in the snow. “Because, I love him,”

Y/N had been right. There had been no time for Jimin to process what had just transpired in his room, not when the cries of his father echoed through his head. He mounted Jjangu and sped off in the direction he’d gleaned his father would be. He had to be single-minded for his father for now, he decided. He couldn’t take care of the old man if his thoughts were littered with questions, with confusion, with hurt as to why it was so easy for Y/N to just tell him to leave. Did she not feel the same for him as he did her?

He knew he couldn’t disrespect her by showing up with his sick father at her doorstep after she’d told him to leave. Perhaps, after his father was healthy, he would map the course again, ask for answers, and plead to stay with her. Perhaps, he’d hurt her somehow and this was her way of protecting herself…?

Jimin sighed, laying his father back before warming water, laying thick cloths soaked in hot water along his forehead to fight the cold back. It took him back to when he’d patched Y/N up after the wolf attack and he had to shake off the thought when his father stirred, looking blearily up at him. “Jimin…you’re back!” His father sat up too quickly, holding his son at arm’s rest to check him before pulling him to his breast.

“Ah, son…I never thought I would see you again. But how…how did you escape the monster?”

Something tugged in him at his father’s tone, making him pull away from the man. “She’s not a monster, father. The legend of the Castle is true. She’s the cursed Princess…” Jimin sat at the edge of the bed, his eyes taking on the sheen of reminiscence as he recounted his journey with her till he was told to go back to his father.

He hoped perhaps, that his father would encourage him to go back, but he needed him to be stronger first, so once his tale was over, his father still gaping at how Jimin made the monster who had imprisoned him and his son sound so human, he fell asleep.

Jimin, however, didn’t. He paced back and forth from the fireplace to the bed, interrupted only by a quick, sharp knock on the door.

Scowling at the late hour, Jimin opened the door, not too pleased to see who it was on the threshold.

“Jimin,” Kai beamed, almost too familiarly as Hyebin tipped her hood back, studying Jimin as if she was planning to gut him. Her nails were digging into her brother’s arm and Jimin wondered how strong Kai had to be to not wince.

“Kai,” Jimin modulated his voice coolly. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Entirely too late, my good man,” Kai turned his head to his sister. “Didn’t I tell you it would be rude to show up right now?”

Hyebin didn’t answer.

Jimin ran a hand through his hair, frustration making him further annoyed. He needed time and space to think, to process things. His father was sick, he had been a prisoner in an enchanted castle where he had found more solace and acceptance than he had in freedom, he had fallen for a cursed Princess who might or might not return his feelings but had forbade him to return to her. He needed to make plans for his future.

He couldn’t be discourteous though, not when they’d taken the trouble of coming by.

“Come in please; my father is ill and sleeping so if you could keep your voices down and be quick about this…” He let the door fall open further. Kai and Hyebin walked in as if they weren’t going to take no for an answer anyway, shedding off their cloaks and making themselves at home.

“Well Jimin, I must say it’s a relief to see you. Your father had been by the pub, you know, raving on about you being kidnapped and all by some monster and imprisoned. We dropped by a few times later to see the house empty.” Kai said. “We all thought he’d gone mad, or you’d run away and he was just lying to make us all look for you.”

Jimin didn’t look at the taller man, feeling the pinpricks of anger flare again at the accusation. “I…yes, I’ve been away. I was at the castle. My father wasn’t lying, neither is he mad,” He said coldly.

There was a silence in which unbeknownst to Jimin, Kai and Hyebin exchanged looks.

“Wait, you’re talking about the palace? The royal palace on the hill…that’s where you were and the monster is real?” Hyebin asked, bug eyed.

“Yes, the monster is your Princess and she’s not vicious or anything, Hyebin, unlike how you described her when you told me the story. She doesn’t devour children and she doesn’t make their bones into furniture.” Jimin snapped, crossing his arms before sighing as he glanced into the fireplace, eyes and voice softening. “She’s a little short-tempered, yes but she’s kind hearted and caring and intelligent and curious. She’s my friend.”

Kai watched Jimin calculatingly, while Hyebin clenched her jaw.

“It sounds like you like her.” She said finally.

“I do. Also, it’s really late. I think I should go to bed as well.” He said. His voice left no room for argument.

Kai gave him a tight smile, his too white teeth glinting almost maliciously in the firelight. “You think…it wise to harbor such feelings for a monster, Jimin? Need I remind you this…thing is cursed and is a bad omen in our town?”

“No Kai, she isn’t. Now please, I am tired.”

For a second, he thought that Hyebin would refuse flatly but even as he steeled himself to assert himself yet again, she was standing and with Kai in tow, moved out without another word.

Jimin puffed a breath of relief, moving to douse the fireplace. The swab plunged the living space in darkness and he stretched his arms above his head, arching his back, already looking forward to his bed when he heard the hushed conversation not too far from the house.

The one thing about living so far from the town and right in the middle of a disused farm was that there was nothing to absorb sounds. Each and every noise reverberated and echoed loudly in his house, enough for him to never be startled.

He went to the window, keeping back enough to see Kai, now holding his torch above him and Hyebin, talking. While Hyebin didn’t bother to lower her voice, Kai was trying to shush her, low and hissing but even his voice carried back to Jimin’s focused ears.

“…you didn’t see his eyes, Kai. He doesn’t just like this bitch. He loves her. He won’t even hear any truths about her!” Hyebin screeched.

“You sure know how to pick them, sister. A man who’s into bestiality,” Kai snidely replied, stopping when Hyebin grabbed his collars.

“This isn’t funny. You have to talk sense into him…or…I don’t…I don’t know, we have to kill this Princess of his.” Hyebin said.

“Keep your damn voice down, will you? Is that all you can think of in your pea brain? Jimin, Jimin, Jimin; all the time…it’s annoying.” Kai snatched away his coat from Hyebin. “Think of it like this, little sister. This girl is a Princess. She is our Princess, a royal. We cannot truly establish a government because a monarch is alive.”

“What the hell does that matter?”

“Darling sister, do use sense. Jimin is here, which means this Princess doesn’t have a man around right now.”

“So…?”

Jimin heard Kai snap his jaw. “So, sister, I go and I marry her. Simple, and effective; I become King, all powerful and she is out of your way. I will command Jimin to marry you and since you will be royal; he cannot hope to refuse.”

“You…you cannot be serious, Kai. I mean, are you really going to do that? She’s an animal.” Hyebin’s shock was palpable even to Jimin.

“Well, of course I don’t intend to honor the marriage wholly. I’m a hunter, aren’t I? Think of it like my greatest hunt, one that makes us the most powerful pair here. Plus, who’s to know…? Maybe the Princess meets a little accident a few days after our wedding. At least the kingdom will have a king they know and trust; they will only see it more as a sacrifice on my part.”

“You’re…despicable, brother.” Hyebin’s lips trembled before stretching into a cruel smile that looked odd on her beautiful face. “But a genius,”

“I know that. Now hurry up, we need to go to the pub and collect a mob. I cannot go alone in case the Princess tries to get aggressive. I’m going to need witnesses just in case we need to come back and convince Jimin his lovely Princess was actually a monster after all.”

Jimin was moving even before the fleck of light completely vanished from sight.

All thoughts and feelings of exhaustion melted from his body, arms and legs regaining energy as he burst into his father’s room. The old man started awake from the sound, jolting and clutching the sheets as he looked at the manic light in Jimin’s eyes.

“Son, what – what’s the matter?”

“I have to go father. I have to go back to the castle. Y/N is in danger.” Jimin rushed his words, tossing things from dressers till he found a bag, throwing some matches and a torch into it. He patted his pockets for the vial of pool water Y/N had given him, about to turn for the door when his father clasped his shoulders.

“No! I just got you back; I cannot let you go back there!”

“Father, you don’t understand. Kai…he’s taking a mob to her! They’re going to kill her, all because I opened my mouth.”

Jimin’s father wavered, his grip loosening only slightly.

“Come with me, then. See for yourself.” Jimin moved past the old man, not waiting for him to follow. However, when he reached Jjangu, who raised his head quizzically, his father, was right there, climbing on behind his son.

Praying that he wouldn’t be too late, he leaned over to Jjangu’s ear.

“Come on boy, we’re going home to our Princess.”

Jjangu whinnied, rising up on his front legs and then they were racing from the stable, in the direction of the palace.

Jjangu thankfully took the way that they were most familiar with, through the woods. Even as they surpassed the town, he could see the lit fires, domestic weapons of all sorts raised as cries and shouts filled his ears. They were breaking down the blockade; he realized when he saw the closed bookshop, going only the way they knew.

His fault…his fault…

Jimin shook his head, nudging Jjangu to go faster. He had to reach Y/N before Kai did, or he would never forgive himself.

The fire leapt high and powerful, licks of warmth flaring out against where you sat with your back to the muttering and mourning gossips of your royal staff.

You knew that the moment you’d spilled out the truth about how you’d sent Jimin away, even forbidding him to ever set foot back in the castle, you’d basically condemned your entire household and yourself to a grim fate, but could you condemn him to one as well? No, you couldn’t. Besides, you were used to this now, used to living like an animal. Jimin shouldn’t have to live in company of one for the rest of his life.

Behind you, Jungkook led most of the ranting. “I’m telling you; this was the plan all along. Get the Mistress all soft and mushy so he could get out of here first chance he could get.”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi sighed. “His father was sick.”

“So, all our families are probably dead now. We won’t ever get to see them now, or even to see their gravestones.”

You knew he was right. Maybe it was ok to live with yourself like this, but sacrificing your own people to this curse made guilt creep up your throat tenfold.

“Perhaps, we shouldn’t have gotten as attached to him as we did, even before knowing what his obligations were.” Seokjin said.

You were about to turn to snap at them all to get back to their chores when Namjoon suddenly squeaked, the clogs of his clockwork chiming anxiously.

“Wait, wait, there’s someone coming…OH lords above! Princess, Princess, it’s the townsfolk, invading the castle gates. It’s a mob!”

“Wait, what…?” You nearly fell off the chair, confused when the doors to the sitting room were flung open again, a squad of soldier armor leading a panting Jimin in.

“Y/N…mob, people are coming for you…run!” He managed to puff out before leaning his weight on his knees, drawing heavy breaths.

You blinked quickly. Didn’t you tell him not to come back? But he was here now, come to warn you about the mob…worrying for your safety.

“Jimin…” You breathed, “You came back.”

You drew closer to the wheezing man, a paw running along his smooth cheek.

“Of course, I did. I had to warn you.” Jimin looked up at you, time slowing as your gazes remained suspended. He placed his own hand on yours, squeezing it even as Jungkook broke it in his rasp.

“Well now, that’s sweet. So, are we to assume you led the mob here before promptly losing courage?”

You and Jimin both turned to look at the feather duster now propped up on a dresser, eyeing Jimin with as much disdain as you had seen him do you. Jimin gaped, flabbergasted while you were ready to rip out all his feathers.

“Jungkook, he came to warn us. Don’t be an idiot.” Namjoon said roughly.

“I can’t believe you’d lap that up, sir. He left here, went back home to tend to his ill father, so he said, and now he’s back…with encroachers on his heel. Why would you believe him? Because of the pool; the waters are also subject to imagination, Namjoon, or have you forgotten?”

“Enough, we cannot fight amongst ourselves, we have to protect the castle and our Princess.” Yoongi said. He turned to the soldiers, ordering for them to gather the rest of the household up and prepare for defenses.

“Ask him, Princess. Ask your dearest if he told them or not.”

You rolled your eyes at Jungkook, turning, however, to Jimin. It was better to put this to rest. “Tell him, then, tell him you didn’t.”

Jimin was still looking at Jungkook, a peculiar expression of conflict gathering his eyebrows together.

“Jimin…” You prompted.

“I…” He looked at you then, and just the look in his eyes – wide, pleading, had your hand slipping from him.

“See,” Jungkook said, as Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi and Taehyung gaped at their friend. “I told you, he told them.”

“Jimin, tell me you didn’t.” You whispered.

“I – I did, but I had no idea -,”

“That they were going to take advantage of the fact that a whole castle was left unattended and come to loot it? Or that they were going to come to kill and behead the Princess so they could mount her head upon their walls?”

“Why…how could you?”

Jimin looked at you again, away from the brewing anger and distrust of the staff. “Y/N, try and understand. I only told the truth, I told them you were harmless.”

“You’re lying.” Jungkook hissed.

You watched his hand try to reach for you, pull at you, but you drew away, cringing away from his touch. He stuttered in his steps, looking at you, beseeching.

“Princess,” Namjoon called softly, “what are your orders?”

You looked away from Jimin, reminding yourself you had duties to perform. “Keep safe the castle. My parents…they shouldn’t have to see their home seized in front of their eyes.” Your anger flared as you glared at Jimin finally. “Remind them that there still is a monster in the castle.”

Without another word, you dropped down on all fours and leaped clean over Jimin’s head, bounding for the roof from where you could see everything and lead stray invaders away from your people and home.

Your orders were followed to a tee. Thousands of household goods launched an attack on the people who were mostly comprised of men, having no idea how to operate the basic home wares.

Drawers smacked into jaws, hot water and oil were poured on head, knives and burning torches chased men around until they thought it better to just leave the castle alone and crawl away, defeated.

You stood on top of the parapets, watching your subjects nurse and curse over their bruised and burned extremities, retreating from your home. Perhaps, there would be no reason for the monster to show up after all. No legends would pass around; no one would spread talk to lure hunters and thieves to your home.

You didn’t go down though, instead, curling into yourself on the edge of the roof.

As happy as you were about the prospect of people leaving you alone, you had to contend with the fact that it was Jimin, the man you trusted, the man you loved who had ruthlessly allowed people to come hunt for you. You had mattered nothing to him. It would’ve been better to have someone draw a knife through your heart now, it might’ve hurt less than the betrayal.

“Oh Princess,”

Your ears pricked.

“There you are. You know, when I didn’t see a huge, hunkering monster down below I was worried Jimin might have lied.”

The voice was unfamiliar, nasty and it grated on your nerves so you stayed still, hoping the person would mistake you for a statue and pass by.

“Apparently, the poor boy hadn’t lied. He was so in misery you see, had to come back, leaving his little lady behind. Someone had to convince him that a princess needs a real man around for a husband.”

You frowned, feeling it draw closer.

“So I have a proposition. You marry me and we live happily enough. I’ll even throw in a wedding kiss.”

The footsteps behind you stopped, and you hoped that your silence had fooled him enough until they started again. “Now, Princess, it’s rude to not acknowledge a man talking to you. Turn around; let’s see what got Jimin so dewy eyed. I have to see if you’re worth all the talk.”

You remained still.

“Turn around now.”

You ignored him.

A sharp, plunging pain ripped through your back, making you gasp and seize up. Something pinched at the centre of your back, protruding out and you knew it was an arrow, turning to see the tall man, draw another from his quiver, placing it on his bow.

“Well now, looks like we’ve found our communication link. Are you going to be nice, now?”

You flailed, clawing behind to draw out the agonizing spike from your body.

“No use. I have perfect aim. Now, stop dancing and listen unless you want another to keep it company in your chest.”

He drew back the bow string.

“KAI, STOP!”

You stopped as well, seeing the man – Kai – turn around to look at where Jimin stood on the top most balconies, leaning almost all the way down. You took advantage of the momentary distraction of the hunter, throwing your full weight at him.

Your muscles and joints screamed at your movements, huge as they were, weighing you further down as the man turned quickly to you, trying to aim the arrow towards your body. You gripped his hand, twisting it out of the way.

“This is a nice surprise! Seems like you really are a monster, and here you were hoping for a human companion!” The Hunter laughed maniacally, shaking hair out of his eyes.

You growled, pulling the hunter close enough to snatch his bow, snapping it with a simply pinch of your fingers. “Get out of my house.” You gripped his throat, squeezing just enough for him to be able to tell. “Never come back…or I will kill you.” You flung the man away from him as the disgusting being that he was, backing away.

Adrenaline fading, the fatigue of blood loss raised its ugly head again, faltering your steps and blurring your vision.

“Y/N, here, come here, you’re hurt.”

You turned once again to where Jimin stood, his hand extended for you and stumbled towards him, shaky feet nearly throwing you over the edge more than once. You reached near him, raising your hand to grasp his and began to climb.

“You’re still here.” You choked.

“Of course, I had to clear things up.” Jimin smiled, eyeing you carefully.

You made to return the smile when another scream of pain tore through you, making Jimin jump before he saw the knife embedded deep in your side.

“NO!” He roared, feeling you slip from his fingers when he saw Kai’s added weight clinging to your cloak.

Your back curved backwards; Kai gripping the back of your cloak and hair in a tight fist. His lips split in a wide, sinister smile. “Go on Jimin, pull us up. You save her, you save me.”

Jimin snarled a curse at Kai, eyes darting from your drooping eyes to Kai’s bright ones. He couldn’t save Kai, he knew that. Left alive, he’d keep coming back again and again. You would never truly be safe with Kai alive.

“It’s okay…”

Jimin’s eyes snapped to Y/N, narrowing at the small smile tugging at your lips in puzzlement.

“It’s okay; you have to let me go…”

“What, no, I’m not going to -,”

“It’s better this way.”

“Y/N, no, Kai let her go!”

“I love you, Jimin. I’m…I suppose this is goodbye.”

Jimin opened his mouth to shout for you to hold on when all sound stopped short. You opened your paw, his own hand too weak to hold up all the weight of your body and Kai together. He watched, too slow to move, too stunned to understand as your eyes closed, still smiling while Kai’s eyes widened, almost comically, smile fading and mouth opening in a silent scream as you both fell.

There was no time for Jimin to even scream for you.

Everything was numb. Everything was silent.

Well, in all actuality, a battle had waged around him, promptly won by the small but mighty objects of Y/N’s household. Cheers of victory and joy could be heard from the lower rungs of the Castle. It was just that Jimin’s eyes could only see Y/N’s last smile, hear her last confession and feel her hand slipping from his.

All he knew was that Y/N was down here somewhere – ironically, falling right into her parent’s grotto – and he had to reach her. Nothing else mattered.

The soft grass of the grotto crushed and crumbled under Jimin’s boots, as he walked and broke into aching jogs as he spied the huge mass of fur on its side, reminiscent of when he’d seen Y/N topple over after saving him from the wolves. The memory stung his chest now.

“Y/N,” he gasped seeing Kai’s body almost completely trapped under hers, his fist still closed around her clothes.

He bent over, ripping his hand away and rolling his dead body away till it lay feet away, open eyes dead and unseeing, his laughter finally fading into nothingness.

Falling to his knees, he heaved Y/N’s head onto his arms, propping it against his shoulder. Her eyes were closed as well; smile gone and he could spot a trickle of blood running from the corner of her mouth into the fur. His hand trailed down to the knife in her side, slowly, gently easing it out and tossing far away from her as both arms came to wrap around her, rocking.

“Y/N, hey, it’s okay, come on wake up. He’s gone. Kai’s dead and every one fled. You’re safe now.” He hushed.

She lay still, too still, not even shifting a little in answer to his voice.

“Y/N,” Jimin vowed now to give up so soon. She had to be alive, she was probably just unconscious. He tapped her cheeks, ran his fingers through the mass of her hair and fur.

“Y/N, please, I’m so sorry.” He buried his head against her neck, taking in a whiff of the musk that he was so used to now. There was a change now; it smelt too metallic, too…sodden. “Please, wake up.”

She couldn’t be dead…she couldn’t leave him like this; not after saying she loved him and pulling off such a ridiculous stunt.

His body shook, feeling the chill settle in. Somehow, Y/N’s body that radiated so much warmth normally wasn’t enough to keep the cold away now. Jimin shuddered, drawing her closer before closing his eyes finally. A sob choked its way out his lips, followed by a sound that was too close to Y/N’s own agonized ones.

“Please, come back, Y/N, please, I love you too. So much, so much, please,” he rocked faster, more to keep himself moving than to shake her awake. He couldn’t stop moving, it would only mean for him to accept that Y/N wasn’t moving as well and that she was…she was.

His tears soaked through her fur.

“Now, this is quite the unfortunate situation.”

Jimin hiccupped, looking up to where someone new had joined them in the grotto. For a wild second he thought that it was Kai but no. This man was much taller, skinnier, even unhealthy looking.

A snap echoed from behind him and he jumped, looking about to see a very familiar pack of wolves surrounding him, grinning and tongues lolling. He pulled Y/N closer but the wolves didn’t seem to intent on attacking, instead collecting behind the new arrival.

Jimin squinted, wiping off the blurring tears to see the man was known to him.

“You,” He said at the bookseller who peered down at the cursed Princess with something akin to bitterness.

“Me,” The old man hummed, turning to face the wolves and Jimin was astounded to see that a wave of this man’s hand was enough to line them neatly up.

“How…I thought you never left the bookshop. Did you come with Kai?”

“Kai?” The bookseller laughed, caustic casting a cursory glance at the dead man feet away. “That pathetic excuse for a human and you think he’d have any sort of influence over me?”

Jimin watched as the man drew himself to full height before light erupted out from somewhere in his chest, blinding Jimin and making him feel colder than he did before. Once he felt the light fade from his screwed up eyelids, he peeked through, gaping in disbelief.

Long black robes swirled around the now, considerably younger man, almost as if it was sewn directly from the shadows around him. Long sleeves fell back to reveal tattoos in a language Jimin had never seen before, glowing even till the skin of his bald head and face.

“Not quite who you expected, I see.” The man said.

Jimin was still trying to put together the old bookseller who had been so friendly to him transformed into this being when with a clatter and loud clangs they were surrounded with more things – this time on Y/N’s side.

Namjoon’s clock chimed angrily, Seokjin’s fiery wick gleaming in the dark as they caught the man standing over Jimin and Y/N. “The Wizard,” They gasped, followed quickly by Yoongi and the others who skid to a halt.

“Be gone, monster! You have killed our Mistress!” Yoongi clattered.

“You’re the one who cursed Y/N.” Jimin said, realization dawning over him like a pot of cold water. However, there was no fear in his voice. After all what was the use? Y/N was dead, neither she nor he could be hurt any further.

“Now, now, calm please. Is that any way to greet the man about to grant you salvation?” The Wizard raised his palms.

“You cursed us too swine!” Namjoon yelled.

“I did. And I fully intended to come back on her birthday to remind her that she owed herself to me if she wanted to have her life and loved ones back. It seems,” He looked down at Jimin cradling her body and again there was strange bitterness to his gaze, “I have been rendered useless. She has found love…I didn’t think it would’ve been possible.”

He looked up.

“So now, here, my word means something in the world.” Light shone again, only this time it was blue.

Jimin watched the light move out from the Wizard, creeping slowly to where Y/N lay against him. The light cocooned her, moving forward till it had surrounded everyone present in the grotto and on and on till all he could see was blue.

Jimin’s proximity helped in seeing Y/N, and he clasped her protectively, worried the light was going to further cause her harm. Only, it didn’t. Instead, her weight began to ease up off of Jimin. Fur receded and fell off from her body to reveal smooth skin, wet and smeared with visible blood, fangs shrunk back, and ears flattened and became smaller.

The huge mass of a creature began to slowly shrivel, until all that remained in his arms could no longer pass off as an animal. No, this was laughably, astonishingly, human.

Jimin raised a hand inquisitively, running it through the strands of hair that were now free from the matting of fur, his hand coming back red.

“She’s…”

“Back to normal…or rather what she would’ve grown up to be; that’s about as normal as I can make her.” The Wizard snorted at his own joke.

“Is…your highness,” Jimin turned to see that there were people in the grotto, no longer just objects.

A tall tanned man stood foremost, dimples poking out as a wondrous smile lit up his face, hands running over his suit. “I…I’m a man again!”

“Or how much you were before,” Another spoke, taller than the first, golden hair falling into his eyes.

“Gentlemen, calm down!” A shorter man barked.

These were strangers to Jimin, or maybe not. He looked back up at the Wizard, ignoring the joyous reunions behind him. “She’s…still dead.”

“Yes, but then, the way to bring her back to life is with you, isn’t it?”

Jimin was about to ask what he meant when he remembered the vial. The vial full of the pool water, that Y/N had said had healing abilities.

He delved deep, bringing out the mercifully intact vial before upending it completely into Y/N’s open mouth.

He waited, with bated breath as moments passed. And then – skin knitted back together, the grey pallor of her face smoothed till a healthy glow seeped in her cheeks.

With a huge shaky breath, Y/N opened her eyes again, fumbling with her body as if it scratched at her.

“Y/N, hey, Y/N,” Jimin grabbed her hands, much smaller and claw less, fitting into his easily.

Big, wide, fearful eyes met Jimin’s. “J-Jimin?”

“Yes, it’s me.” Jimin placed his head against hers, taking in a deep inhale that wasn’t of musk but of bloodied skin, of sorrow, or uncertainty. Closing his eyes and hoping for the best, Jimin turned his head to place his lips swiftly on yours.

There was no reciprocation at first, worrying Jimin that perhaps, he’d pushed you too far too fast. However, he felt your small hand move past his neck into his hair, entwining with the strands to hold him against you.

He moved away from your face, reminding himself that you still needed time and space to learn physical love when your eyes, now bright with unshed tears landed on something behind him.

It took him a bit to register the utter silence, hushed conversation behind him and he turned to see that the huge statues that used to be the only decorations in the grotto were no longer there, instead right behind him stood a couple, too familiar.

“Mama! Daddy!”

Y/N fled Jimin’s arms, instead throwing herself into her parent’s arms. Jimin fell back from the impact; quickly picking himself up to see the pair wrap their tight arms around their daughter, tears streaking through dirty, muddied faces.

The man was tall, his wife regal as they still retained the glow of youth, having spent their lives inanimate. Their daughter may have grown in front of their eyes but there was near to no difference in ages, Jimin noticed. He turned his head, but the Wizard and his pack of wolves were long gone.

Y/N shirt and pants were also now tattered, too huge on her now smaller body. Jimin tugged off his coat, wrapping it delicately around her shoulders when a hand stopped him from moving away. He looked at the queen, small crown still perched into her mussed hair who smiled at him.

“Thank you,” she mouthed, tugging him closer till he was hugging Y/N from the back as well, and Jimin couldn’t be more grateful at the gesture.

The moments, hell, the days after the…incident, or rather your birthday had been all muddles and stumbling through time. As a cursed monster, time had seemed to stretch, with you craving love and companionship simply because you’d been told that they would break your curse. The very notion of these emotions had become a means to an end.

You had so much to learn, you realized when you stepped back into a castle that had no broken ceilings, no gaping holes, no smears of dirt and growing moss. The stones gleamed, jewels sparkled, sculptures loomed, just as they had in your distant memories.

Everyone stared, even the members of your household who had lived with you forever. You supposed you weren’t the only ones in need of reacclimatizing.

Chamber maids and maids in waiting dragged you and your mother away almost immediately. You were washed, scrubbed, hair oiled and washed and scented, similar to the ball but only this time the gown they put you in felt too big, too airy for you. Your skin, used to being protected by masses of fur and hard muscles shuddered at the gauzes and weightlessness of your new things.

Mirrors and portraits, previously smashed or torn by your claws had been reinstated and you had spent hours just staring at the unfamiliar face in the reflection. You weren’t a child anymore; you weren’t the beast you were used to seeing in cracks of glass and shards of mirrors. You had grown into a young maiden and you had no idea who you were.

The resurgence of a bustling royal palace, with many of the staff setting out to locate their families had created a buzz. Kai, the hunter had been dragged away and Hyebin, his sister as Jimin told you had been tried for conspiracy for murder.

Of course, things hadn’t become hunky dory fast. Things still needed to be sorted out, a monarchy had to be established because the so called government that had put Kai in charge in the first place was found now corrupt, seeing how easy it had been to rile up the public on the word of one man with no proof at all.

You left your father to handle these matters. Your mother had something much more stressful for you to think about.

Whether or not you wanted to marry Park Jimin…

You knew he was in the palace somewhere, along with his father. He’d come seen you but there hadn’t been much conversation. You had been too unsure of your own self, of your new or rather old body and you wondered if Jimin liked you as a human as much as he had when you were a creature.

“Don’t be silly,” Jimin had said, once on a slow walk around the garden. Your steps were much slower now, smaller feet tended to do that but none of you were in a hurry. It seemed Jimin was as eager to know the new you as you were. “I loved you when you were covered in fur and I love you now, even though I must say I was hoping to introduce a few of my friends to my beastly fiancée.” You had smacked his arm, unsettled at the joke even though he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Don’t worry so much about this. The curse is past. No one and I mean it, will ever hurt you now. They’ll have to go through me.”

The burning sincerity in his eyes and voice left no room for you to argue or doubt.

And so, you shyly visited your parents that very evening, hand looped in your lover’s, asking for their blessing to marry him.

Your engagement to Jimin lasted longer than any a royal was supposed to have, stretching out for months as you relearned human life. You were taught to walk properly on two legs, carrying things with a tiara affixed to your hair. For days you would bat at your hair when the pins keeping it in place pinched or pulled at you.

You learned how to dress yourself, how to put on various forms of jewelry, how to take baths and resumed your studies and royal duties.

Suffice it to say, you were now missing your animalistic life at times, you were so exhausted.

However, Jimin was a constant, learning with you, talking you through the harder aspects, supportive, encouraging, and absolutely perfect. It was also getting hard to keep your hands to yourself when it came to your private moments.

Physical love was one aspect that you absolutely dreaded touching upon. You wondered if you would be good enough, if Jimin would find pleasure in you or if you would find pleasure in him. He did place chaste kisses against your skin and lips when he thought it was okay to do so and you had only found him losing control once. It had been late at night when he visited you and had read to you till you were drowsy. With only a mind to gently kiss you goodnight, he had leant in only to be trapped by your hands, trying to get as close as you could to him.

He’d gripped at you, trying to pry out of your touch but had melted fast, molding and pressing you to your mattress. You had felt him growing aroused against your pelvic bone, rutting against you, gasping when he pulled away, blinking and shaking hair out of his eyes.

“Now now, love, we have time.” He’d pecked your cheek, disentangling himself from you before almost limping out.

Soon enough, it was time for the main event of your life.

Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung and Jungkook returned in days time, bringing what was left or added to their families and they stayed on till after your wedding took place.

Jungkook had mellowed in the face of his parents being alive, fifteen years older of course but delighted to have him back. He’d wished you well, but not apologized for his earlier behavior – you didn’t expect him to either.

Your parents had gone above and beyond for the wedding, throwing the lavish event for the entire town and further to come attend. Your gown was created for weeks, Hoseok personally supervising the process so that when you walked down the altar finally, upon your teary eyed father’s arm; you erased all thoughts that you had been a monster for most of your life prior.

You left the palace for your honeymoon, following Jimin’s advice to leave the royal duties to your still young and hearty parents while you took some time with your husband, so you could acquaint yourself both to him and to the world that he wanted to show you.

You knew where to start the journey of course, with your groom’s lips twitching at the very first words that tumbled out during the ceremonial dance.

“Please,” you’d whispered, laying your head close to his heart.

“Anything for you, darling,” Jimin had whispered back, smile obvious in his voice. “Paris it is.”

Jimin might not ever get used to the feeling of you fitting into his arms, you thought to yourself, glancing at your now husband, ever so often.

He’d lifted you up into his arms the moment you’d stepped off the carriage, beaming about something called the threshold ceremony, carrying you through the doors of the French villa carefully.

“Satisfied?” You asked when he stood still, eyeing the windows in contemplation.

“I’m wondering if I’m missing something but I can’t think of anything as of yet. So yes, here you go.” He placed you down, letting you walk through the house while he watched over the servants who carried through your luggage.

A late meal later, you stood at the mirror in the bedroom, painstakingly pulling out the multiple pins from the up-do your hair had been twisted in, your husband peeking in with a mischievous grin.

“Having fun?”

“No,” You grumbled, your arms dropping from the strain. Jimin walked up behind you, beginning to quickly pull out the multitudes of metal from your hair that would make a magnet drool. “Why are there so many?”

“Look on the bright side,” Jimin muttered, delving deeper into your scalp, “For the rest of our honeymoon, you could be completely free from all of this, until of course we have to go back.”

You glanced up at him quickly, seeing the darkening expression brooding on your husband’s face as he dropped the final pins on to the dresser.

“I was thinking.”

“Yes,” you squeaked out embarrassingly.

“Well, we’re all alone now, so we don’t have to be worried about anyone walking in on us.”

You turned around completely, confused. “That’s what you were worried about?”

“Of course,” his smile flickered. “What else would I be worried about?”

Your eyes fell, feeling all sorts of stupid now. “I just thought…maybe you didn’t…you know, feel that way about me now.”

A finger brushed under your chin, tilting your face back up. “Love, I married you.”

“Yes but,”

“Mm, but nothing, come on; let me show you what I feel for you.”

Jimin’s arms, much stronger than you had given him credit for swooped under your thighs, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist swiftly. As a monster, you had never given thought to how powerful Jimin really was, but now when you were human, much more fragile than you were used to, he was blatantly flaunting his strength.

You couldn’t fault him for that.

Your husband dropped you onto the centre of the massive bed, arms balancing his weight over you. “Are you okay about this? I don’t want to force you into anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”

“No,” you reached for him, winding arms around his neck. “I’m fine, I want to feel you. I want to learn this with you.”

Your eyes closed automatically when he kissed you, sweetly but strongly, tongue laving over your lips, slipping between with less to no battle from you. Your mouth parted easily for him, letting him plunder moans from you.

“Fuck,” Jimin breathed, pulling away before his eyes were widening. “Oh, I’ve never cursed like that before.”

His cheeks were so red, you couldn’t help but laugh. “No worries, I’ve never made someone curse like that before either.”

Jimin’s fingers trailed to the ties of your night shift. “Perhaps, we’re a bad influence upon one another.”

“Perhaps,” your breath caught in agreement, Jimin’s fingers pulling at a peaking nipple while his head lowered to suckle on the other. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, my darling wife,” his lips were curved wickedly when he resurfaced; sitting up to remove the cotton night shirt he wore and tugging off the gown from your body right after.

You lay naked under him, open for his perusal and taking. Your hand shifted up, trying to pull the sheets up to cover some of your modesty until Jimin caught up, taking your hands to place them right there.

“There,” His mouth opened, tongue rubbing over his swollen bottom lip. “Do you feel that? That’s what I feel for you. You don’t need to hide from me love, never ever. I have loved you before, I love you now and I will continue to love you more for all our days to come. Do you understand?”

You meekly nodded.

Jimin’s eyes flashed down your body, knees parting yours before his hand touched your bare core, running over the nub in circles. “Am I understood, love?”

“Yes-yes,” you gasped, neck falling back for him place kisses even as a finger slipped through inside of you, thick but gentle, stretching you just so.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” Jimin removed his hand, placing the digit in his mouth, eyes still firm between your legs. Normally the lecherous look on any man would have you burst with rage but Jimin had you nearly quivering in anticipation, especially when he finally pushed down his trousers.

You had never seen a cock before, never having any contact with a human male, but you had to say Jimin’s was an impressive specimen. Thick in girth and flushed a sensuous red, the head throbbed in need before he was guiding himself to your body.

“Ready, love, I need you to breathe with me.”

Jimin dropped low on you, lips tugging and pushing at yours, his spare hand clasping your breast to distract you as he pushed in. your knee bent, curving over his hip as you gasped, eyes watering at the sharp pinching sensation deep within you. Your husband halted, waiting for the expression of discomfort and pain to pass from your face, fingers brushing away any stray moisture from the corner of your eyes.

“I…I’m okay, please move.” You told him, Jimin studying you carefully before he drew back, thrusting in experimentally. The first drags of his hips, followed by the slow plunges still made you bite down your lips, screw up your eyelids before you found your rhythms.

Jimin ended up with his hand at your nub, rubbing it in gentle circles, lighting sparks in your nerves with the motion of his lovemaking, your nails digging into your lover’s back and shoulder, trying to get as close as possible.

The first jolt of climax nearly made you cry out, burying your face in his neck to muffle the sounds when he followed, heavy grunts falling unabashed from his lips, hands twining with the strands of your hair to seal your lips in a clumsy kiss as he spilled deep into you.

Rolling over, with your head safely clasped in the nook of his arm, Jimin sighed contentedly, warm hand against your back.

“Jimin,”

“Yes, love.”

“So…what happens now?”

Your husband turned his head to give you a sleepy grin.

“Now we’ll live happily ever after.”

#ksmutclub #notyourdamsels #btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #ficswithluv #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin smut #bts smut #jimin angst #bts angst #jimin fluff #bts fluff #jimin #bts #park jimin

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orangegreet · 3 years ago

Text

Photo by Peter Chiykowski on Unsplash

It was an impulsive decision she made, veering off the road.

Trotting her tired pony through the bog, Alina thought to reach the pond directly by cutting through the grounds.

She only realized the graveness of her error when the beast whined, its hooves stuck in the thick mud.

Alina cast a glance above at the unforgiving sky.

Meaning only to get the weary little pony a drink, she ended up stranded in the treacherous earth between road and house where few could notice her.

In earnest, she raised pleading cries toward the manor—pleas which were lost as the rain began to fall.

All that could be heard were the sheaths of water which fell in cascading waves over the grounds.

The vast estate around her might have been beautiful with the help of the sun gleaming down on its features but in the gloom of autumn dusk and the haze of rainfall, everything was colored into shades of gray and black.

How terrible this journey had become. A sickly old pony for a sickly little woman. Together for a week of travel from their coastal home in the south and up into the ever-dreary wilds of the north country. It had been a long, arduous journey.

Only now to be nearly swallowed by the grounds of Blyth Fell? It was a poor omen.

How deeply troubling to be so far north from everything she had ever known and completely at a loss for what to do next. Would she die here, helpless and sodden?

The thought throttled her heart and she melted into a shroud of self-pity.

No one would hear her. No one would see her what with the rain and the closing of the day. She would surely catch her death within the hour.

Or perhaps she would grow so weak as to slip off her horse and become pulled into the earth herself where the mud would expand into her ears, her nose, her throat.

Drowning in sludge on the eve of her employment—it would be a fitting end to her tragic little life.

When her tears began to fall, she was thankful they could blend in with the rain drops running down her face; the tears and droplets would be fast friends in their wallowing.

So preoccupied was she that when two large hands clamped around her waist, she shrieked in fright and kicked at her assailant.

“Calm yourself, blamed woman!” The gruff voice shouted above the din of the storm.

Sharp eyes cut into her own, black and menacing to her enervated state.

“You are in need of assistance and I am unfortunate enough to be passing by.” He told her. Water covered his face and dripped from his nose and his jaw.

Alina was dumbstruck by his beauty.

Enough that her tears abated for the moment.

“I will have to set you by the carriage.” The man continued.

Her eyes lingered on the dark, wet locks curling from under the brim of his hat. She nodded in acquiescence though he had already begun to tuck her over his arm like a paper doll and trudge up the hill.

A great, black carriage stood at the top of the slope, door ajar and horses nudging at the road in impatience.

“Inside.” He commanded, setting her down with haste. Alina stepped into the shelter obediently and watched as the man worked his way back to the front of the coach.

The driver already had one of the horses unhitched and together the two men trailed the steed back down the hill toward her distressed pony, stopping just short of the bog land.

Alina tried to watch their progress through the carriage window, eyes squinting through the bleary haze.

After a few minutes she thought she saw her that her pony had drifted further away even as the black stallion veered back.

The window fogged. She wiped it away with her wet sleeve and pressed closer. Her sweet, dear little pony was now very deep in mud. The base of its hauches no longer visible.

The carriage door swung open and she shrieked.

The dark haired man cast her a haughty look and then shifted into the carriage, moving across from her while he rummaged in his belongings beneath the bench.

“Ah, there.” He was holding a long musket aloft with one hand and stuffing the muzzle with another.

“Should be quite fine.” He leveled the rifle and, as if remembering her existence, looked up again, “Ah, yes. I’m afraid the beast will need to be put down. Look away, if it please you.”

It did not seem to make a difference for him.

His eyes skipped right over the horrified look on Alina’s face and he swept out of the coach again, door rattling in his wake.

The black tails of his coat billowed behind him in the wind and she swore he adjusted his hat into a perfect tilt as he balanced the firearm and aimed.

Bang.

Even the tragic sound of mercy was muffled by the rain.

Alina was too shocked to make any noise. Mouth agape, she watched the blurry figures through the window as they slogged back up the hill to reattach the black horse to his harness.

She was too shocked to do more than shuffle away from the door in a daze when the man stepped inside again.

Saddle bags dropped at her feet and he reached into the bench seat to remove a rag.

He tapped the front window once seated and the carriage took off again.

The pause in their journey suddenly felt as natural as if they had made a stop-off to pick wildflowers.

The man eyed her warily as he cleaned his gun.

Alina opened her mouth to speak and closed it several times, the carriage jostling her as she floundered for words.

“I never intended to…that is, I meant to...It seemed prudent to get the pony some water. We do not—that is to say…I never fathomed such terrain…” her hand covered her mouth in shame before she could continue.

“Hmm.” He smirked and returned to his task. “Well in your desire to care for the poor beast, you quite ensured it’s doom.”

Though tears sprang to her eyes at the condemnation, she found her anger at last and glared.

He chuckled in surprise. His face crinkled with mirth. Even in cruelty, he was beautiful.

“You are most welcome, by the way. For coming to your rescue.”

Great thanks indeed. The man was more monster than gentleman in her view.

Manners won out eventually and she mustered a gracious nod. Her words were still heavy in her chest.

The dark eyes remained on her, studying her features even as she forced her gaze back to the window.

“Pardon me, sir. My wits fled me for a few moments and now I am unsure. Could you deliver me to Blyth Fell? I should like to have walked from the road so as not to be an inconvenience. Or if your coachman would be so kind as to stop here, I can find my own way.”

Alina shifted to pick up the saddle bags which contained all her belongings. Everything left to her in the world.

“You are an orphan, are you not?” He was smirking at her again.

“How did you…” the cruelty of his smile cut through her question.

“I told my staff I wished for an orphaned governess this time.” He said, simply. “Our last one was far too home sick. All her free time spent holed up in her room writing letters to her sister or someone similar. I did not heed the particulars closely, you see.”

He examined the shine of his gun as he buffed. “Only her misery. That which she spread about the hall like a plague. It was a relief when she resigned her post.”

The way he looked at her was as a predator to cornered prey. Alina gulped.

Did he just kick his lips? A trick of the mind, surely.

Her words bubbled up from the tangle of her insides, “Then you are Lord Kirigan.”

He blinked and then smiled again, “Indeed. And your name, miss?”

“You know I am an orphan in your employ and you have yet to learn my name? I am hired to be governess to your children, am I not?” The venom with which the words whipped out of her mouth astonished them both.

Apparently, the little pony was not as forgotten to her as it was to her companion just now.

Alina reddened in her cheeks and ears while Lord Kirigan stared dumbfounded for a moment.

“I apologize, sir. It has been a long journey on my own and I have quite forgotten myself.”

He adjusted his collar and seemed to right himself at her admission. “Quite right. As if I am allotted the time to learn every detail of someone whom may or may not withstand the trial period in my employ.”

Alina’s heart raced under the threat. Enduring the long journey back south as a disgraced ex-governess was not comforting in the least.

She collected herself, straightened her posture and introduced herself.

“Miss Starkova.” The Lord held her name in his mouth a moment longer than usual and she was struck again by his dark eyes, watchful as they collected the details of her across from him.

“Unusual name for this part of the world. Am I to assume your credentials are adequate?”

A retort rose to her mind and she bit it back, nodding and listing off the education and training she accomplished in Weymouth. Alina would need to tamp this urge to defy him if she intended to keep her employ beyond the carriage ride.

As if she had manifested the ending with the thought, the carriage came to a stop.

Her head tilted as she looked up at the manor through the window. Lord Kirigan made no move to leave, watching her first with open curiosity and then a scowl.

The coachman opened the carriage door and Kirigan exited.

The rain had morphed into a light drizzle. The Lord straightened his coat before turning back to the carriage and offered his hand to the new governess.

Hesitating for only a moment, Alina’s fingers slid over his warm palm.

Once more, her eyes met his. A heartbeat of energy or perhaps merely her pulse could be felt in the space where they touched. He narrowed his gaze at her and then wrenched his eyes away, dropping her hand after she descended the carriage.

“Ivan will see to your bags.” Lord Kirigan called over his shoulder as he entered the house. “Welcome to Blyth Fell, Miss Starkova.”

Alina watched him recede into the dark entry before her, unable to look away even as the drizzling rain collected at her brow and ran down her face.

#darklina fic #darklina fanfic #aleksander morozova #alina starkov #alina x aleksander #darklina #grishaverse #the grisha trilogy #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone #eventual hea #eventual smut #haunted #darklina server #the darkling #shadow & bone

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hungarianbee · 4 years ago

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Way of the Witcher: bits of lore

Disclaimer: Post contains spoilers to the Witcher games These things may be canon-typical, but the following trigger warnings apply if you want to check out the cards: gore, monster dismemberment, needles, body horror, insects and spiders

“In a world plagued by horrors and monstrosities humanity desperately needed a new type of weapon to turn back the tide. Created by ingenious Alzur, witchers — professional monster slayers of exceptional strength, speed, and agility were tasked to end the threat once and for all. Organized into different schools they honed their craft and passed their knowledge onto novices in training. Some of them were destined to become the legendary heroes and protectors of humanity. Others — the very thing they were supposed to fight…”

Since the gwent expansion was anounced I followed it with rapt attention; every bit of lore is a gem in my eyes. I decided to write down my thoughts of the cards and lore pieces revealed in a post. Share that knowledge around, amirite?

The post references Gwent cards which were leaked (2020 november-december). The theme is mutation and everything that comes with it; namely sweet-sweet lore of the lesser known witcher schools: the Bears, Cats, Vipers and Griffins.

Tucker in, under the cut there is 4.5k analysis of each card that came out.

We’re starting with a theme, then work our way throught the 4 schools (each contain the following: a leader, a mentor, an adept, a general witcher, a specific job, an item, a school relevant monster, 2 known witchers and a location), then go through a Witcher 1 throwback, Salamandra, and round it with a few new monsters and neutral cards.

While I describe most of the cards concisely and all the known witchers and locations are on my blog, you might want to look the cards in their (small) glory: [DO IT HERE]

Sounds good? Here we go!

Edit: [this source is better]

The theme is mutation - be it monsters created by transmutation, witchers or salamadra

If that is true, there are monster cards that seemingly stand out: the Succubus and the Phooca

If we are to believe that they do connect to the mutation theme, then

(1) we can conclude that Phoocas (a rare, and more dangerous form of Nekkers; they can pull your head off by sheer force, watch out) are a natural mutation of the original species,

(2) but we’re still left with the Succubi (an inherently demonic creature). They might have chosen it because of its appearance: succubi have horns and goat-like legs. (Note: in the graphic novel “House of Glass” the succubus character has wings, but lacks hooves. In that sense, she could be mutated.)

Breaking it down into factions/schools (some of the cards can be paired up; these cards are interpreted together):

School of the Viper: starting with the vipers, because they are my favourite

Viper Witcher Mentor & Viper Witcher Adept: the flavour text says that the Viper mentors are exceptionally cold and ruthless, and that’s underlined by the story the art tells: the mentor busies himself with sharpening a blade, and in the background we can see the adept attempting to kill his best friend goat, as was ordered. The mentor watches this from the corner of his eye. Young Vipers are to kill their pets (which they nurtured for years) before becoming a fully-fledged witcher. The latter could mean that the boy depicted on the card hasn’t even gone through the Trial of Grasses.

Viper Witcher: On the card we see an unknown Viper crouching over a royalty he killed. I feel like this type of card is meant to represent what we think a general Witcher of said school would be like. Apparently Vipers just like to slay the nobility *shrug*. The flavour text informs us, that Vipers call their two swords “fangs”, and that their style consists of fast and furious attack aimed to overwhelm the enemy.

Viper Witcher Alchemist: Every school has a specialty; Vipers are proficient in potion or poison making. The right side of the alchemist’s face seems to have healed burn marks; a blown up concoction might have caused it.

Ivar Evil-Eye: So far there’s little to know about Ivar. He was either the Master of the Viper Keep, or the founder himself (gwent suggests the latter). He’s described as heavily scarred (facial scars suggests burns and slash marks too), and each of them has a terrible story to tell.

Warritt the All-Seeing: Warritt is a (newly introduced) Viper with heavy disfiguration to the upper part of his face: his eyes are sealed shut (possibly by burn marks, though his hair remains intact). The art shows Warritt drawing a modified version of the Supirre sign in the air to help with his loss of sight. As the wiki says: “Supirre is a Sign used for eavesdropping. Drawn on a solid surface, it allows the people near this surface to listen nearby conversations which would be normally inaudible due to the distance or background noise.” It was only used in Sapkowsky’s second volume of the Hussite trilogy (not yet translated to English), which is entirely separate from the Witcher novels.

Kolgrim: Fate laughed at this Viper. As a kid he was swapped by a weeper, saved by a witcher, than rejected by his own mother who believed that the fake child was the real one. Later, as a grown witcher Ivar instructed him to find a lost weapon diagram. On his journey he was accused - ironically - in White Orchard of kidnapping a child. Invoking a Temerian law, Kolgrim was told to cleanse their crypt (as seen on the card) then he can go. The truth is revealed in Witcher 3 - Kolgrim was beheaded by the villagers before he could even step into the crypt. To add insult to injury: the child was eaten by a drowner. The gwent card therefore shows the optimistic outcome: that Kolgrim reached the crypt and passed in battle. And what’s up with a crypt full of wraiths anyway? White Orchard is shady, guys. (Lil’ trivia: Kolgrim’s eyes are yellow-green.)

Vypper: Basically an overgrown snake that likes damp marshes (they even fight the local kikimores for territory). They only relate to the mutation theme by their nature - they resemble the “school’s animal”.

Gorthur Gvaed: The Bloodgate Keep is located in the chasms of the Tir Tochair mountains. It’s built so high were you to look down from the bridge leading into the keep, you would only see fog (one could wonder how the vipers trained in these conditions). The bridge is made so that you’d have to cross the lookout tower - it might have served as a check in spot. The post itself is circled by the stone coils of a snake; the top is open and has a huge lit bonfire in the middle for warmth-keeping and possibly signaling. Unluckily, it didn’t stop the Usurper’s army from destroying the keep.

Coated Weapons: They leaned heavily into the alchemy and assassin side of the school. Vipers coat their blades with an acidic liquid, so they can kill a man with a nick of it.

School of the Cat:

Cat Witcher Mentor & Cat Witcher Adept: On the adept card we can see a young Cat walking the tightrope blindfolded (they start with close to the ground and slowly increase the distance with time); the mentor is looking up at him. Like the Vipers, Cat mentors are nonchalant about risking the kids as seen from the flavour text: “If you fall, it’s over. Your nine lives are up, kid.” Furthermore, the background of the Cat Witcher Adept card shows the not yet destroyed Stygga Citadel. The Cat Witcher Mentor is in the same scene and we can see lots of potatoes and cabbages; cats definitely eat their veggies.

Cat Witcher: The card shows a Cat in the heat of battle mid-jump; his hood is up, blood is flying everywhere. The flavour text emphasizes that cats are known for their mad bloodlust, not stopping killing even after the enemy capitulated.

Cat Witcher Saboteur: A Cat perches next to the window, a smoking bomb in hand, eavesdropping on nobles. A rope is hung from somewhere out of the pic, possibly for a quick exit. Vesemir comments that these are many-a deeds the cats did that taint the reputation of witchers.

Gezras of Leyda: Gezras is a not yet known redheaded Cat witcher. Following the pattern he seems to be the founder of the Cat School. His flavour text shows that even back then (when the mutagens made Cats emotionless) they were inclined to dislike humans: “Take a contract from Aen Seidhe over a dh’oine any day, as you’re far less likely to receive a knife between the ribs in place of coin.”

Brehen: Now this cat embodies the Cat madness. He’s known as the Cat of Iello because he massacred everyone there. He was consequently shunned by all the schools, and he was even convinced that Vesemir put a kill order on his head. He met Geralt later in the 1240s on his way to claim the bounty for the princess. Thinking that Geralt was there to rob him of his chance of the bounty, Brehen took a priestess as hostage (this is what we see on the gwent card). Geralt managed to convince him to put away the blade, and they parted without crossing blades. When meeting with the striga he scoffed into her face that “she won’t be his first royal”. But his luck ran out. The Temerians buried him and fabricated the story of a cowardly witcher stealing their coin. I’m halfway convinced we see Brehen in the netflix series.

Gaetan: This boy broke into the fandom like a bulldozer. After the folks in Honorton cheated him of his pay and tried to kill him, Gaetan flew into rage and killed everyone there except Millie, a girl who reminded him of his sister. That’s the scene we see on the card. And then Geralt robs/kills him.

Saber-Tooth Tiger (Stealth): Another huge animal/monster related to the school. It’s story is this: “The prized possession of royal menagerie, until a commando of Scoia’tael assaulted the exhibition, released the beast, and set it upon its cruel masters. Since that day, it has acquired a selective taste for human flesh.” Another cat turning against humans.

Stygga Castle: An outside view of what we already saw on the Cat Witcher Adept card. It’s located on a cliff, and the sun shines into it just right (so that the Cats can bask in the light). The walls form a circle where they shelter the inner grounds, and a bigger tower emerges in the middle. The Castle could be reached by the thin bridge connecting it to the mainland, or by the cliffs (if one is brave enough).

Making a Bomb: Cats seem to have a specialty in bombs. Guess where Lambert got his interest from *winkwink*

School of the Griffin: lots of pairs in this one

Griffin Witcher Mentor & Griffin Witcher Adept: Compared to the other schools, this pairing is tame - the adept is climbing a tree to retrieve a crossbow bolt. We can see the mentor in the background. On the mentor card the adept waves down with the retrieved crossbow bolt in hand. It shows a kind of comradeship that’s not present in the other 3 schools. The flavour text emphasizes the importance of knowledge. Students are afforded to choose their final Trial: recite the entire Liber Tenebrum (Book of Shadows; one of Keldar’s favourite books) or steal a griffin’s egg. Noone’s chosen the former.

Griffin Witcher: The witcher is shown shooting down a griffin. According to the flavour text they prefer hunting with silver-tipped arrowheads instead of swords.

Archgriffin & Griffin Witcher Ranger: On the Griffin Ranger card we see the witcher crouching over track marks. On the archgriffin card he found the albino (or very old) monster, who’s already killed someone (probably a lumberjack, judging by the axe). According to the flavour text, Griffin Witchers are trained to be professional trackers; nothing can stop them to reach their prey. Even though archgriffins are considered the embodiment of courage, loyalty and fighting spirit, the gwent card corrects the notion that the Griffin Witcher were named after the monster. In truth, they got the name in honour of their founder’s mentor, a knight named Gryphon.

Erland of Larvik: Continuing the trend, Erland is the founder of the Griffin School (one of the two that are confirmed 100%). He’s from the first generation of witcher, mutated by Alzur himself. After the Order began fracturing he had a confrontation with Arnaghan (who’ll be the founder of the bear school). Arnaghad almost killed one of his brothers, slashed Erland across the face then parted ways with the Order and left Morgraig Castle with his own group. Seeing that the the remaining witchers couldn’t go on like that, he grabbed his 13 best friend and left to Kaer Seren, where (after purging it from spectres) he founded the Griffin School which focused on magic, preparedness and flexibility. His teaching emphasized knightly values (mimicking his long-dead mentor, a knight named Gryphon) in hopes that it would make future witchers’ life easier. It didn’t.

Coen & Keldar: The cards are mainly connected by background. Coen is finished killing what appears to be an albino arachas (but it’s definitely an insectoid), while Keldar’s taking notes. We can rightly assume that he’s updating their bestiary, since he’s one of the teachers/mentors who focus on gathering and sharing knowledge. Coen’s flexibility shows in the flavour text: “There is no such thing as a fair fight. Every advantage and every opportunity that arises is used in combat.” Not very knightly, is it?

Kaer Seren: The “Star Keep” Erland and his friends fled to. It was used by the Order’s mages to mutate witchers (that’s why it was haunted by spectres). It’s located at the edge of the Dragon mountains by the sea between Poviss and Kovir. It’s said to possess the great library, which later mages tried to get for themselves. They messed up: by bringing down an avalanche on the Keep, that knowledge was destroyed. The keep was badly damaged and many witchers died.

Target Practice: The Griffin School’s specialty is their precise aim - they “can split an apple in two from a hundred paces”.

School of the Bear:

Bear Witcher Mentor & Bear Witcher Adept: The adept card shows that young witcher are taught to catch fish by hand (just like their school relevant animal). On the mentor card the elder witcher leads a group of younglings in the mountains; possibly out to teach tracking. The cards are connected by flavour text. The young Bear witcher-would-be’s need to complete the Trial of the Mountain, which consists of them climbing Mount Gorgon (also known as the Devil Mountain; it is the highest peak of the Amell range) to retrieve a runestone. The Trial often ends with the kids frozen to death. The Bear Mentor card’s flavour confirms it: “If you’re unsure of the way, just keep a lookout for markers - the frozen corpses of would-be witchers.” This sounds ominous - don’t they collect their fallen?

Bear Witcher: Bears are solitary hunters as seen in the flavour text: “life alone can be tough”. The witcher in the pic just dismembered what looks like a ghoul (with a tail?).

Bear Witcher Quartermaster: This one I like. The Quartermaster is an amputee (missing one of his arms, which was taken by a bear; must have won that fight one-handed), yet they still found a job for him where he can be useful. His flavour text suggest he likes Mahakam mead.

Arnaghad: The founder of the Bear School, he never felt kinship with his fellow witchers. After attacking a witcher named Rhys over a contract, wounding him deeply from shoulder to waist, he returned to Morgraig, attacked Erland then left with his possé to found the Bear School - Haern Caduch - in the Amell Mountains. Later he almost died in a betrayal, which resulted in another schism and the foundation of the Viper School.

Gerd: Gerd’s a legendary witcher who fled to Skellige after allying with a Usurper instead of his daughter, who later issued a warrant for his arrest. He has a busy time in Skellige: first slaying a dragon, befriending the Jarl Torgeir, killing a bunch of sirens, losing so many weapon diagrams you wouldn’t believe, losing half his pay and silver sword on gwent, escaping Nilfgaard and managing to slay a striga, killing some of his pursuers, only to be caught up in the siege of Torgeir’s castle, where he died in the ruins. On the card he’s showing Bear-typical strength: he’s tearing apart a siren with his bear hands.

Junod of Belhaven: Junod had a dubious background, but was thought to be the child of a brave dwarf and a giantess. He’s a huge man, with a big bushy beard and bald head. His sobriquet is false; he took it after Ivo, because he liked the ring of it. He was known as a strict haggler and a bit of a gambler. In 1243 he took a contract in hopes of cash (he wanted to forge the Grandmaster Ursine Armour). The subterranean monster was said to live in the caverns. Junod drew bear signs and wrote a warning on the wall (this is the scene we see on the card). He was however ill-prepared; the beast turned out to be a shaelmaar (a type of relic Gaetan slew once) that killed him in that very cavern.

Dire Bear: Once again related to the school in question, the Dire Bear is stuck with so much weaponry that it looks like a walking armory. Lots of witchers must have tried to slay it, yet it still kicks - just like Bear Witchers, it’s resilient till the very end.

Haern Caduch: Built into the side of the Amell Mountains, it’s the coldest environment of all the schools. As with the other schools, the Bears were forced out of it due to folk riots. It was left in disrepair to be buried under snow and ice (as seen on the card). It’s name could be translated as “Piercing Whiskers”.

Armor Up: As Bear’s are more likely to stand in the way of attack than dodge, they need to wear a heavy armour at all times.

Salamandra:

Roland Bleinheim & Gellert Bleinheim: Witcher 1 characters. They are thought to be brothers, leading the Salamandra organization. As drug lords one heads the fisstech operation in Vizima’s sewers (Roland), the other in the swamps (Gellert). The flavour text pretty much matches: both of them wondering what the other one is doing.

Salamandra Mage: The art itself was already leaked in China around 2 years back, and there were a few theories. One of them was that the man depicted is Zerrikanian, and I think that’s correct. Both the facial tattoo, darker skin, thinly braided hair and fire magic points in that direction. Azar Javed (a known Salamandra fire mage) happens to be a Zerrikanian escapee too.

Salamandra Lackey: A girl with the Salamandra-stapled mask runs from a city guard. The flavour text says the following: “Lackeys are expected to perform their first five jobs for no pay, demonstrating their passion for the gig.” The organization monitors from the beginning that only those remain who are extremely loyal to their cause.

Fallen Rayla: A little background for those who are unfamiliar with her: Rayla of Lyria was a veteran of the Nilgaardian Wars. She harbours anti-nonhuman sentiments after she was captured by Scoia’taels and severely maimed. The Rayla we see on the card is a mutant - in Witcher 1 she was supposedly shot down by Scoia’tael, and Salamandra found her close to death, subjected her to mutation. She was killed by Geralt.

Salamander: The card shows a bright blue spotted salamander. It has two tails and heads (possibly grown together?). The Salamander is a symbol of the organization. Metaphorically speaking it could mean, that Salamandra thought of itself as something untouchable: “best to avoid petting them, as the salamander, when threatened, secretes a deadly toxin”.

Failed Experiment: The card - ironically - thrives when it’s poisoned. The “experiment” only resembles a human in shape. It’s clutching the table ends, as if trying to escape still. It’s fair to assume that they later dissected it: “even failed experiments can serve a purpose”.

Salamandra Abomination: A step further from the failed experiment - we see the results of pushing science’s boundaries. Only the skull is left intact, everything else of the body is covered with insectoid-like growths.

Stolen Mutagens: Gruesome organ harvesting. The witcher heart (?) glows, which is either an artistic decision (probable) or the mages sent magic into the body, and the mutagens light up (like angiographia). Three types of mutagens can be harvested: red (strength), blue (magic) or green (resilience). I headcanon that the amount they inject of the three types can vary - that’s how you get strength inclined witchers like the wolves (red), or big ass mothers like the bears (green).

Salamandra Hideout: There are multiple hideouts in Witcher 1 (outskirt of Visima, crypt in sewers and one in the trade quarters). The one depicted here is the fisstech lab in the sewers. It shows a dimly lit, cobwebbed room. There’s an elevation where a body lays on the table. The elevation’s floor is gridded, so the blood and other fluids can freely flow down into the sewer water, where many bodies are already discarded recklessly.

Neutral:

Alzur & Viy & Koshchey: Alzur was a charismatic mage and spell inventor, who created many horrible monsters, like the koshchey (with the spell: Alzur’s Double Cross) and the Viy (a huge centipede-like insectoid). He was also the one who did the lion’s share of work with the witcher’s mutation.

Cosimo Malaspina: Cosimo was the teacher of Alzur. He was known for his knowledge in hybridization and genetic modification. Him and Alzur were the true creators of the witchers sect. On the gwent card, three man are shown prodding at a mutated body. Cosimo (the old dude) is in the middle, Alzur might be the one on the left and that leaves Idarran on the right. His flavour text paints him as cold and clinical, someone without empathy: “Children keep asking him for gifts. He doesn’t know why, but it really helps with finding subjects for his experiments.”

Idarran of Ulivo & Idr & Wererat: Idarran was one of the contributers of the witcher experiments. He’s an expert in hybridization and genetic modification, whose teacher was Alzur. He was a pale kid who lived in the canals of Vizima and experimented on rats at the age of 5. He found beauty in gruesome creations, like the Wererat (a human-sized rat on roids) and the Idr (a big centipede-like insectoid). He’s disdained by Geralt for his many monsters.

Triangle within a Triangle: It’s a magic spell used to introduce a series of mutations and to greatly increase the mass of a given body. That way they can create huge monstrosities, like the koshchey. Adepts often confuse it with a pentagram which can lead to infernal disasters.

Selective mutation: The card shows a close up of a young man’s eyes - one mutated (catlike) one human. His skin shows his high toxicity level, ashen with prominent veins. He’s held down as alchemists prepare to inject a yellow concoction into the human eye. It’s possible that after the success of witchers the mages tried to recreate the changes in smaller scale, then unmake it in turn, unsuccessfully.

Witcher Student: This is not really a card, but I included it anyway. The card’s ability is - ironically - doomed, and to add insult to injury, its flavour text is the following well-known fact: “Four out of ten boys survive… at most.” It’s also a point for black humour that the gwent commentators added: the Trial of Grasses card boosts this unit significantly.

Berengar: He’s a Wolf School Witcher who blamed his school for denying him a normal life and consequently abandoned them. In Witcher 1 Geralt can decide to kill or spare him. In a letter he admits that he was a coward because he betrayed Kaer Morhen and worked with Salamadra in hope that they can undo his mutation. His card references a questline in Witcher 1, where he tried to reason with the vodyanoi (~lovecraftian fish people) to spare the village’s prize-winning cow, named Strawberry. This is non-canon; in the game Geralt takes over the quest to do this instead.

Leo: Another Witcher 1 character. He was an orphan taken in by Vesemir. He was a kind-hearted but hot-headed man, who had all the training but not the mutations and the experience - he never killed a man. The flavour text of his gwent card kind of mocks his death: “He would have caught the arrow if he only had some heads-up.” He’s burned on a pyre and his cenotaph can be found south of Kaer Morhen.

Geralt: Quen: The last classical sign that wasn’t yet a card. In the art, Geralt is wearing the Manticore armour

Snowdrop: She’s a not yet seen character; impish looking female bard with light blond hair (flowers braided on the side) who plays a medieval version of the fiddle to a rooster. There’s a horseshoe hanging from the hem of his pants. She’s also seen in the gwent: journey #3 launch trailer. She’s narrating that she was saved by Alzur. Alzur told her about his plans of creating witchers to fight the beasts of the Continent, and she admired him so much she spread his story (”let me tell you about the greatest sorceress to ever lived”). Their story will unveil in the next week, I’ll probably update accordingly. It’s also interesting that Alzur says in the gwent intro (regarding witchers): “Bards will toil to do justice to their feats.” As if his own successes and experiences will be mirrored in his creations. Projecting much?

Monsters:

Viy & Idr: both of them are centipede-like insectoids conjured by infamous mages (see: Alzur and Idarran)

Wererat: same can be said about this one. Idarran experimented on Vizima’s sewer rats since the age of 5. This human sized abomination was the end result.

Succubus: We already discussed how the “Succubus” doesn’t fit the theme. Other interesting thing is the surrounding of her - in the background we can see a skull full of some kinda of dark liquid; she’s also holding a goblet. I’m not saying she’s drinking blood, but if she does, it would shed some questions as succubi don’t need to drink blood at all.

Phooca: As nekkers’ rare big brother, phoocas are ogroids that have the strength to rip a man’s head off with their bear hands. According to the wiki, in Celtic folklore they are regarded as shapeshifting fairies.

Koshchey: A witcher 1 boss, koshcheys are spider-like abominations summoned by mages. The woman standing her ground in the picture is Visenna (Geralt’s druid mom). In the story she’s the one to kill the first koshchey ever created.

Spontaneous Evolution: Under the Red Moon the wolf mutated into an amalgamation of eyes and teeth. Malaspina possibly added something to the mix that proved unstable. The card’s name is kind of ironic - this change is not spontaneous (it was induced) but could be related to evolution (it would imply that this form is somehow advantageous to the current environment and helps adaptation). (Note: in my opinion spontaneous generation would be a better term: it’s the thought that living creatures could arise from nonliving matter.)

Hybrid: the card shows a two-headed wolf or dog. Pretty straight-forward.

Chimera: A creature created my Cosimo Malaspina. He combines the genes of a fiend and griffin, then added a trace of insectoid and wyvern. It kind of looks like a furred wyvern with antlers. Interestingly the frightener (an insectoid; a rare result of magical experiment) is also called a chimera.

Dol Dhu Lokke: a new monster lair location. The depending on how you translate “lokke” the Elder can be read as “black valley place” or “alluring black valley”. It’s so dangerous - housing many-a horrors - that even a witcher thinks twice before going near it.

Interesting tidbits

Coen has hair, which is weird because so far he was described in all sources as bald.

There used to be a card that was also called Viper Witcher, which is now referred to as “Kingslayer”

The Bear Witcher’s face was drawn after one of CDPR’s employee.

The Koshchey’s card title has a typo: “Koschchey”.

Easter eggs (mainly in flavour text)

The Spontaneous Evolution card references The Powerpuff Girls intro: “Professor Malaspina accidentally added an extra ingredient to the concoction - compound X.”

The Bear Witcher card might reference a song of Baloo from the Jungle Book (The Bare Necessities): “Life alone on the road can be tough - be sure to bring all the bare necessities.”

#my shit #the witcher #gwent #witcher meta #witcher lore #i worked really hard on this #i hope it shows lol #if y'all have any thoughts i'd be happy to hear about them #cross my heart i don't bite

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