#//who ever heard of a fairy who could lie?

[winters-left-hand]

vessel i really am curious how come you can say the f word (NOT the one about gay people!!!) and not get in trouble :(

Of course, of course. I couldn't resist the opportunity to make the joke. At any rate, the answer is mostly to do with the status I have and the respect I am given. I normally avoid it so that the habit does not catch on (and to be polite), but I could very well call someone a dog to their face and they wouldn't be able to do anything about it. If they were of sufficiently low status they might even be expected to agree with me!

A Monarch could, of course, choose to punish a wayward Vessel for being rude to guests. I avoid putting the Winter King in such positions to the best of my ability, but even when I have been disrespectful He has not felt that I have gone far enough to warrant punishment.

[reidmania]

cedar | spencer reid

summary; breaking up on good terms and remaining friends is difficult, especially when you and spencer work together, its even harder when your life is put at risk and spencer is faced the possibility that he might really lose you.

warnings; exes who cannot stay exes, angst, fluff, they flirt w each other, fem reader, mentions of being stabbed, all cm minds things, happy ending, avoidant!reader, self sabotaging reader. BUT THERES SOOO MUCH FLUFF GUYS, they flirt and banter so much, reader is sarcastic and very playful, shes lowkey lorelai gilmore coded a little idk

an; cedar is my song. i love cedar, i love gracie abrams. thank u and goodnight. not proof read bc if i read it i probably wont post it. thank u so very muchly to @gghostwriter for all the advice on this fic and letting me yap about it.

‘Breaking up is funny, I forget you aren't mine, I forget you aren't mine. It's impossible to acclimate, every time we talk, we understate, how I know we both could die, we both could die. But you told me that you felt the same, when I told you how I needed space, but I think it was a lie, it was a lie’

“You know pointing is rude.” You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as you leant back in your chair. The room went silent as everyone turned their gaze to look at you. Was the timing of your statement the best? No, did you care? Also no. Hotch was in the middle of going on the details of the case you had traveled out to Louisiana for, he was pointing at the screen and the thought just slipped passed your lips before you could help it.

Spencer turned his gaze to you, eyebrow rasied, “Do you ever think before you speak?” He asked. Your lips parted before shutting again, then you let out an amused huff and shook your head, lips pulling into a half teasing smile.

“If I did that I’d lose my sense of humour— you all would be miserably bored.” You sighed back, the smiling pulling further on your lips as the messy haired brunette sitting opposite you raised his eyebrow further and let out a half hearted— almost sarcastic chuckle in return.

He tilted his head slightly, “Humour? Is that what we are calling it?” He asked. You nodded instantly, a wide, half proud smile taking over your features. He hummed, clearly amused.

“Why is pointing rude?” JJ spoke up, your eyes widened in almost excitement to be able to talk about why the thought had crossed your mind in the first place.

“Well when you point you kill all the fairies.” You replied, matter-of- factually. You knew it was technically silly but it was a sweet childish thought that had been engraved in your mind since you were younger and you heard it from a distant relative, probably as a way to you from stop pointing at someone (because that was rude but explaining that to a five year old would be useless so they settled on something more interesting for an adolescent)

Spencer let out an audible laugh, “You are a child.” He said, almost teasingly.

Your head turned away from JJ’s to meet his eyes, this time you sat up a little straighter, “What does that make you?” You teased back, raising your eyebrow at him.

Seemingly, that made his lips part then close, and he resigned, yet there was still a slightly amused smile on his lips, which he bit his lip to try to hide, as he turned his attention away, making your smile only widen as you settled back in place, slumped against your chair as you turned your attention back to Hotch. who was standing arms crossed, clearly unamused by the interruption.

You however just smiled widely at him, “You may continue now. Without pointing, don’t be a fairy murder.” You huffed out. Hotch stared at you for a moment, no emotion evident over his features before he shook his head, turning his attention back to the case at hand.

Your eyes caught Spencer’s for a moment. In those moments it was increasingly difficult to remember you weren’t together, it was further difficult to remember why you had broken up in the first place. The way you interacted, the looking for one another in a crowded room, the soft touches and the teasing taunts went against every breakup ‘rule’

The breakup wasn’t messy. Not really, Not at all. It wasn’t mean, there was no big argument, no mind changer, no feelings lost, it just.. happened. It started when you had admitted to Spencer you were getting overwhelmed with the fast pace of your relationship, and he agreed he was too. You both agreed to take space, time, to reevaluate on what you both needed at this point in time.

When the conversation finally happened, you told him you thought it would be better to end things now, while everything is good so theres no chance of things going bad. You explained your reasoning by saying you didn’t want to lose your friendship with him if that feeling in your chest never went away, you didn’t want things to be awkward at work.

He had agreed, and it was mutual. You both mutually agreed to end things out of the fear of things ending.

It had been a month since the breakup, there was no awkward phase between you two. There was no tension, bitterness. It instantly fell into the same rhythm that had always been there, playfulness, teasing, lingering glances. The only difference was now he didn’t steal kisses to cut off one of your dramatic rambles, or wrap his arms around your waist at the end of the work day to signal he was ready to go.

You hadn’t decided yet, if the breakup was the right thing to do, if keeping this close knit bond with Spencer stumped any chance of you moving on — not that you planned to right now.

The breakup wasn’t messy, but everything after, everything now and everything in your head was.

“Spencer” You poked at his arm as you approached where he was standing, leaning over a desk reading over something, you weren’t sure what it was, you didn’t really care. He didn’t look at you as he let out a hum of acknowledgment, making you smile. “Spencer” You repeated, poking his arm again, and then again, until he turned his head to look at you.

His raised eyebrow and the way his lips pulled into a tight thin line showed he was unamused, not annoyed. You smiled widely at him, “You’re in my way.” You said, something you could have told him when he was half paying attention, but that took all the fun out of it.

He stared at you blankly for a moment, before crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his body against the desk further, turning towards you. Which only further blocked your path. “Thats unfortunate.” He sighed, you squinted at him slightly.

“Can you move.” You huffed. No longer amused because it was less amusing when he was amused as well. Maybe that was silly but you couldn’t help it.

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to think about it for a moment, before looking back at you. You glared at him, crossing his arms over your chest before he spoke. “Whats the magic word?” He mumbled, tone laced with faux seriousness.

A huff left your lips, as you glared up at him, squinting your eyes slightly, “Chivalry is dead?” You suggested sarcastically.

He grinned, “No. And that’s a sentence. I said magic word”

“You know what? I will just go the other way.” You decided, turning on your heels to walk away. A laugh left his lips as he reached out to grab your wrist, stopping you from getting too far, he dragged you back to stand in front of him.

“Stubborn.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he looked down at you, you returned the gaze, tilting your head slightly as you looked up at him, trying to keep the smile threatening to make way onto your face.

“You just noticed?” You replied in the same tone. Although you knew he had known this for a while, he never failed to mention how stubborn you were throughout your relationship, whether it was playful or in the middle of an argument, he constantly reminded you just how stubborn you were.

He shook his head, not bothering to hide the amusement on his face. “No, No. Trust me you make it very known.” He said, emphasising his words to make it clear that not only he, but everyone was aware of your stubbornness.

You smiled, “Being stubborn isn’t a bad thing, you know.” You mumbled, gently pulling your wrist away from his hold, not because you didn’t enjoy the touch but more-so because you felt an undying urge to cross your arms.

He hummed, looking down at you, “I didn’t say it was.”

You tilted your head, the same entertained look in your eye that mirrored his, “You inferred it.” You said, matter-of-factually, although he didn’t, not really. He actually didn’t give any hint to what he meant by his words, but you were okay with that. It kept things lighthearted, easy.

“You assumed.” He said in the same tone. “I didn’t infer anything, I simply made an observation.” He said, raising his eyebrow as if he was trying to figure out how you were going to find a way to reply — he assumed something witty, dramatic.

“Can you observe from elsewhere.. you’re still in my way”

He let out an amused laugh, “Im still waiting on that magic word” He said, clearly enjoying this and the light hearted banter between the two of you.

You rolled your eyes, in a huff of frustration you ramble, “You are creating a hostile work environment. I feel unsafe. I feel targeted and threatened. How do you feel about yourself, after treating me such a way? You are a horrible evil person. Im going to take this to corporate.” You babbled off into a dramatic tangent which only furthered Spencer’s amusement of the current situation.

“I feel pretty great actually.” He shrugged, you glared at him, staying in place for a moment to see if he would move, he didn’t, instead he continued smirking slightly. You groaned dramatically before turning on your heels and walking away. You could hear his laughter as you walked around the opposite direction to get where you wanted to go in the first place.

“I hate when my job actually requires me to do my job.” You huffed out, shaking your head as you tightened the straps of your vest. It wasn’t true, you loved your job, you loved what you did and that wasn’t a question. It was just the dramatics and the emphasis on how tired you were today, although that didn’t stop killers from killing, or kidnappers from kidnapping.

Unfortunately this case was particularly tough, it had taken an abundance of days to just figure out the victimology and connection because of how random the killings were, then it took another day to figure out the MO, then the profile was completed, then the next day, today, you had finally gotten the location of where the unsub was keeping his victims.

“Yeah, Such a struggle, poor you” Spencer mumbled out as he came up behind you, readjusting the straps on the back of your vest to make sure it was on properly, his voice was laced with tease, you just hummed in acknowledgment.

“Make sure you’re careful, and cautious.” Hotch reminded you. You didn’t think much of it at the time, it was the same reminder as always when catching an unsub, don’t do anything unnecessarily dangerous, don’t split up unless necessary, don’t put yourself in a situation that you cant get yourself out of, the words you had heard probably a million times.

You wished you paid closer attention this time.

You and Spencer walked through the house, it had an ominous feel to it, the air in the house was colder than outside, and it wasn’t a particularly warm day — but it wasn’t the temperature that made the house feel as cold as it did.

Instead it was the guttual sobs you heard from underneath the floorboards that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and goosebumps to line your arms. They weren’t sobs of pain, instead just ache, a cry so loud begging for someone to hear. Before that you were about to whisper a stupid joke to Spencer, now you felt as if you couldn’t breath.

“Stay here.” He whispered to you. There was something unfamiliar about the look in his eyes and any wit you could muster up was thrown out the window at the sound of his voice. It was a stupid request, you couldn’t just stay here in the hallway while he wandered around. You had a job to do.

When he turned the corner, gun pointed protectively, his movements were calculated and careful, every step he took he knew what he was doing, You thought you did too. The first step you took was quiet and your gun was pointed, your finger hovering over the trigger.

Spencer moved towards the sound of the sobs, you moved towards the living room, trying to clear the downstairs area of the house. There was a pull in your stomach for a number of seconds, a twist of anxiety you pushed to the side to focus on the matter at hand.

That didn’t last. Ignoring the feeling in your stomach turned into gasping at the feeling. A gasp of pain leaving your parted lips as you stumbled forward, the gun left your hand and hit the ground, the sound of the contact blurring as a ringing swindling sound took over your sense of hearing.

You were stabbed. You could feel the metal, more than you wanted to admit, you could feel the way it pressed into your skin, the coldness of it against the warmth of you. A sob of pain left your lips before you could help it. There was someone holding you, wrapping a tight arm around your chest and a hand over your mouth to silence your cry.

The arms weren’t comforting, in any sort of way. They were too tight, too suffocating for the lack of air you were able to breath in between the hand covering your mouth and the pain in your stomach, you wished adrenaline would kick in but it seemed to dwindle out as your head spun, then the knife was ripped away from your stomach.

That hurt.

More than it did when it first went in.

Then you were released from the mans arms and your body collapsed in pain, eyes squeezing shut as your hands scrambled to press against the open wound now bleeding out. You didn’t know where the unsub was, you didn’t hear footsteps, you didn’t really hear anything. Everything seemed blurry, not your sight so much since your eyes were squeezed shut but you could feel your mind blurring with every second that passed, any first aid training you had learnt flew out the window.

You missed it at first, the sound of the door opening, the sound of back up coming in, Derek, Emily. They were in the house now but not in the living room, not where you were lying on the floor in a helpless pool of your own blood. You wanted to yell out, or sob but every sound got stuck in your throat.

Then you felt a larger hand pressing on top of yours, placing more pressure against the wound than your tired arms had allowed, you made out frantic talking but nothing your half conscious mind could string together coherently. It didn’t matter, you could recognise the roughness of the gentle hand anywhere.

“Spencer” You gasped out, panting.

Had you been holding your breath? You didn’t remember but you knew breathing was getting more and more difficult.

His hand pressed against yours, other hand coming to brush hairs out of your face. “Im here. Can you open your eyes for me?” He almost begged, his voice gentle and reassuring and laced with panic even though he tried his hardest to remain calm for your sake.

You didn’t reply, only letting out strangled gasps for air, eyes remaining shut, squeezed tightly, as if the harder you squeezed them shut, the more your pain decreased. Unfortunately thats not how anatomy works.

“Open your eyes for me angel, look at me.” He now did beg. If you were conscious you would’ve given him a look for the use of the term of endearment in your current broken up state, but you could hardly process anything else he was saying, and you were bleeding out so there was clearly more important things.

You struggled, but after a moment peeled your eyes open to look at him. Vision was blurry and fading in and out even few seconds even when your eyes remained open, you couldn’t make out his features, you couldn’t see the tears he was trying to hold back. God you wished you could see his face.

“Good, thats good. Keep looking at me, Okay? We’re getting you help, you’re gonna be okay” He reassured but it was more of a slight reassurance for himself, trying to convince himself as such. His voice became a ringing in your ears, along with every other sound around you.

“Wh- Where- Is—“ You words came out mumbled, muffled by gasps for air and whimpers of pain. “He.” You finished, trying to keep your eyes open, trying to focus, trying to stay alive.

Spencer spluttered for a moment because he didn’t know— He had no idea. Whether the unsub was right behind him or whether they were being taken into custody by Derek or Emily, whether he was lying dead on the floor somewhere. Spencer didn’t know. He couldn’t. How could he focus on anything else?

“I don’t know” He said.

“Go away” You mumbled, eyes now fluttering closed, even in the state of half consciousness you knew Spencer was still in danger, more danger by keeping his back to his surroundings and his focus on you. That was putting himself in an unnecessarily dangerous situation.

He shook his head. “Im not going anywhere. Keep your eyes open.” He repeated.

“Spencer” You huffed out a breath of air, your eyes remaining closed because you were so tired. “Go. You- You aren’t— You aren’t my boyfriend anymore” You huffed out the words that came across way harsher than what you intended them, “Staying- With.. Me isn’t your.. Responsibilty” Your words came out laboured along with the way your chest rose and fell, the breaths that left your lips.

“Don’t say that. Open your eyes.” He shook his head as his other hand trailed down to your neck, fingers pressing against your pulse point. You couldn’t feel it, every part of you and every inch of his touch felt like a lingering sensation over the numbness of your body, your eyes remained shut.

“If i die” You huffed out, your voice quieter, more rushed as you tried to get more air in, “Please” You started before you let out a gentle sob, not of pain, you weren’t in pain, not anymore. “Please don’t let them use a bad— photo of me.. at..- my funeral”

It was the most you things to say before you stopped replying, before your body tensed slightly. To joke, to be playful at a time like this. Spencer wondered if it was an attempt to calm him down, to relax his mind a little bit, to sooth the ache in his soul with the wit that was unforgettably you.

The cream coloured walls seemed taunting, they were warmly lit, contrasting how cold the space felt, how daunting it was. There was different people scattered around, some crying, and grieving, some reading newspapers, others celebrating. There was really no contrast of emotions quite like a hospital waiting room.

“She just got out of surgery. Shes in the ICU.” Hotch said as he stood in front of the few members of the team that were sitting by waiting. Everyone wanted to stay at the hospital and wait throughout the time of your lengthy surgery, not everybody could.

“Is she okay?” Emily asked, sitting up a little straighter as Hotch spoke, Spencer remained silent in place, every part of his body relying on the ache in his chest to keep his heart beating. He didn’t know if he could form words even if he wanted to, he didn’t know if he could speak without his voice breaking.

Hotch was silent for a moment, which caused Spencer’s head to snap towards him in nothing but pure dread. Hotch realised and shook his head. “Shes— Shes fine. Shes alive. Shes still asleep, they said it could be a few hours before she wakes up. The surgery went fine - She will be okay” Hotch sounded relived as his spoke, an unfamiliar sense of emotion in his voice.

“Can I see her?” Spencer spoke urgently before he had even fully understood what he was saying. If he had thought about it for a moment more, he wouldn’t have bothered asking. He wasn’t oblivious to the inner workings of a hospital. ICU. Family members only.

Hotch seemed to know that Spencer already knew what the answer was, “Reid..” It came out regretful, apologetic, empathetic. Spencer didn’t reply, instead re-slumped back in his seat in defeat.

There was hours. Hours before you were awake. In those hours Spencer was nothing short of a mess. He tried to work, reading over case files, trying to summarise what had happened and then the memory of your blood painting his hands came back and he was left in a state of overwhelming thought.

“You alright, pretty boy?” Derek asked, despite the playfulness of his words, his tone was serious. It wasn’t a secret how much you meant to Spencer, it wasn’t a secret how much he cared about you. Spencer looked up from the hospital seat, the room had grown more absent of life as the hours passed, families came and went, the crying stopped and started again, the celebrations happened and passed. Yet spencer never stopped feeling so lost.

He shook his head, saying he was fine would be a lost cause to the knowingness of his best friend, and his current state. He was so evidently not all right that saying so would be humorous. His cheeks were flushed, hair a mess from the amount of times he had run his hand through it, tugged on the strands stressfully.

“You know what she said to me?” Spencer mumbled out as he pulled his gaze away to look at his fiddling hands, “She was laying on the floor, dying, and she told me to go away because I wasn’t her boyfriend anymore” Spencer huffed out the memory.

Derek sighed, taking a seat next to the mess of his best friend. “I don’t think she meant it like that. The situation was still dangerous and you were putting yourself at risk.” Derek said. Spencer wanted to cry.

“I know— I know. She said ‘it’s not your responsibility to stay with me anymore’ — I don’t— I can’t—” Spencer couldn’t articulate the emotions swamping his mind. Everything was overwhelming, every time he closed his eyes he saw you on the floor in a puddle of deep red blood, anytime his fingers remained still for too long it was like he could still feel your pulse running flat against them.

“Breathe.” Derek reminded as Spencer got himself worked up.

“I lost her— I lost her.” Spencer shook his head as the words came out, his hands pulling to his face to rub over his eyes, maybe as to hide the way they’d begun to water, maybe to feel anything besides the heat of his cheeks.

Derek sat up a little straighter to rub Spencer’s shoulder, “Shes okay. They said she will be fine. They just want to look over her for a while. She was in a tough surgery, I don’t know much about hospitals but I’m pretty sure being in the ICU means shes getting all the care she needs to recover better, and faster.” Derek tried to comfort.

“Its- No- I already lost her Derek. I was an idiot and I didn’t say anything — I didn’t say anything because I was scared of losing her and i lost her anyways.” He rambled, an overwhelming force of regret lingering in every word he gasped out.

“Your breakup? I thought that was mutual?” Derek furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Spencer wanted to laugh, because technically it was. Technically they had both agreed, technically this is what he wanted as well.

He just wanted you.

“She wanted space— I thought.. I thought everything would be okay. Then she suggested we break up while things are still good enough for us to end on good terms and be friends. I just — I didn’t want to lose her; I wanted her to be happy and in my life so I didn’t say anything.. I- I settled for being friends because it meant — I thought it meant i still had her” Spencer was a mess and it was evident in the stammer of his words in the midst of his ramble.

“You don’t think you do?” Derek asked, Spencer shook his head as he brought his hand down to rub gently over his chin and bottom lip, a shaky breath leaving his lip’s. “I think you do.. I mean everyone does. You two still act like you’re together.” Derek said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Spencer sighed, “Thats just— Thats how it was before we started dating. Sometimes it feel’s like we are still together.” Spencer mumbled, Derek opened his mouth to speak, but Spencer cut him off. “Shes going to wake up, alone. Her family is in a different state and I’m not allowed to see her? I- This is bullshit.”

“Just say you’re her husband” Emily said, catching both of the boys off guard, they hadn’t heard her approaching. Spencer lifted his gaze from the ground to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. Any other time, if it was for any other person he would probably go over how that went against so many rules, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Not when it came to you.

He broke protocol. He wondered how many times that had happened today as he sat beside you, his hand on of yours, thumb gently running over your knuckles as you laid still unconscious on the bed. He paid attention to the beeping of the machine, the rhythm of your heartbeat, making sure it stayed consistent like his life depended on it — like your life depended on it.

You mumbled something, causing his gaze to break away from the screen to your face, watching it twist slightly. Your eyes remaining closed, then your hand twisted to interlink your fingers with his. You were evidently in pain.

“Hey- Hey don’t move too much. Do you want me to get your nurse? They can give you some different meds” Spencer ushered gently, leaning closer to the bed as you stirred awake. He wasn’t sure if your lengthy amount of time spent unconscious was purely because of the antiseptic leaving your system or also the need for sleep but he was glad you were awake.

“No” You rasped out. Whatever medicine they had been pumping you with since you got out of surgery did its job. You weren’t necessarily in pain, just uncomfortable. Even with your eyes closed you could feel the brightness of the white hospital lights. You knew where you were.

Spencer squeezed your hand gently, making you now very aware that he was holding your hand. “What the fuck happened?” You huffed out, voice groggy and full of confusion. You knew where you were, you knew it was something that happened on the case, you knew you were stabbed, but everything after the knife made contact with your abdomen was a blur in your memory.

“You were stabbed.” He stated. You opened your eyes to glare at him, “Yeah- Spencer, no shit.” You shook your head, he smiled. “I just— Is everyone else okay?” You asked.

He nodded. Derek and Emily had saved all the victims and the unsub was in custody, he explained that to you softly, mapping out every detail so you could make it out enough in your mind to satisfy your need to know what was going on.

“Next time can you tell him to do better? This bed sucks” You referenced to the unsub stabbing you, and leaving you alive and uncomfortable. It was a joke. You tried to move without causing yourself any pain over the uncomfortable thin mattress of the hospital bed. Spencer smiled and let out a breathy half hearted laugh.

“I’ll be sure to let him know” He returned your playful tone but it was heavier, quieter. It was filled with something more, something unsaid. His eyes dropped from your to back to your hands that were twined together, rubbing his thumb gently over the webbing of your own.

You tilted your head slightly, “What’s wrong?” You asked, it didn’t take a genius to read Spencer. You had memories the is and out’s of his head, or you thought you did. You knew enough.

“I thought I lost you.” He said, shaking his head slightly. His voice was so quiet and filled with guilt. “We broke up and.. because of what? Because we didn’t want to lose each other— I almost lost you.” His words held so much gravity it felt like it had all been taken from your surroundings and you were floating on everything left unsaid and unfinished.

“But you didn’t. Im alive.” You smiled playfully. He said your name, serious, showing he wasn’t playing around about this, that it went further than just this situation. You sighed, and shook your head. There were only so many jokes you could make to downplay the weight of the space between you.

“Okay. We broke up.” You mumbled, looking at him. “Because things were weird and it was too much and if things kept going then if we ended later it wouldn’t be on good terms and then we wouldn’t be able to be friends and thats horrible for everyone” You said, recapping your mutual decision to break up.

“Why do you do that?” He asked, squinting his eyes as he looked up at you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Do what?” There was a number of things he could pull you up on, your avoidance, your jokes, your way of downplaying everything and anything.

“Plan the end of things when they have hardly started. You were planning a breakup for a relationship that was doing perfectly fine. You needed space, I gave you space, then you decided you wanted to break up? Why?” He huffed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows further at his words, but he was right. Of course he was right. “You said you felt the same.” You mumbled, maybe if he had called you on your bullshit a month ago things would be different and you would’ve worked things out, you two would be together and maybe everything would be different. You also knew it wasn’t his responsibility to try and understand emotions you couldn’t comprehend or communicate to him.

“I didn’t want space, I didn’t want to break up — but I didn’t want to lose you all together.” He admitted. You suddenly felt the wind knock out of your chest. You wondered if the way your heart beat increased showed on the monitor, which seemed all too revealing.

“You didn’t say that.” You muttered.

He sat up a little straighter, not letting go of your hand, his fingers stayed tangled with your own. “Would it have changed anything if i did?” His voice was quiet, as if a question that didn’t need an answer.

“It was going.. too fast” You huffed. The relationship did go fast, but maybe it was because the two of you spent way too many years in this flirty banter phase before either of you actually made a move; maybe because you were both already so comfortable with one another.

“We could have slowed it down.” He said, rebutting.

“And if that didn’t work? If it was all just too much? Then we argue and we end on bad terms and then not only is it awkward for everyone at work but then we can’t even be friends” You repeated your point, the fear engraved in your mind.

“What if it did work?” He shut you up with his point, before he continued. “What if it did work and then everything was fine. What if you told me when things are getting too much or overwhelming you and we work together to fix those issues so we don’t end at all.”

“That’s optimistic.” You mumbled sarcastically. Everything he was saying made sense, everything he was saying was ideally how a relationship would go, but it wasn’t as simple as that for you. You couldn’t help the way your mind thought the worst.

Spencer huffed shaking his head, “You’re stubborn.” He said. And he never let you forget it.

“Im realistic.” You resorted, but you weren’t: You hyper fixated on everything that could go wrong and got yourself out of those situations before giving anything a chance to work out itself.

“You’re an idiot. And I love you.” Spencer exhaled. It wasn’t a crazy love confession because you knew this. He made it known everyday. Even everyday you were broken up. He didn’t need to hide it. “Can you give us a chance? A proper chance without planning our breakup before theres any actual reason for it, please.” He mumbled, half playfully and half so serious.

You considered his words. Honestly your last thought before falling unconscious was the fear that you would die without Spencer knowing how much you loved him, how much regret you lived with for the state you had got yourself into with him, the fear you had of not having him in some way, none of these thoughts you could voice aloud when dying.

“Okay.” You settled.

“Okay?” He asked, repeating it back as if he didn’t believe you. You nodded, repeating it again. He breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Okay good, because everyone on this floor thinks I’m your husband and it would’ve been really awkward if you just rejected me.”

[lordprettyflackotara]

hitchhiker || the proxies || prologue

tw: mentions of murder

“Son of a bitch!”

Masky’s voice was hoarse under his mask, the muddy slope under him making him slide forward. A rough hand grasped his forearm, keeping him from falling. He glanced over his shoulder, Hoodies gloved hand wrapped around his mustard jacket. He glared at Toby as he slid down the muddy slope with glee, splashing mud onto his already tattered jeans. Masky’s eyes narrowed as he heard the familiar quiet giggles coming from under Toby’s mask.

“W-where are we?” Toby questioned. The three looked around, Masky’s memory the most hazy out of the three. Him being elected the leader made the least sense sometimes, considering how scrambled his brain was. “The butt fuck of no where is my guess,” Masky huffed. Hoodie looked in front of them a two way road the only sign of civilization. He turned to Masky, who was about five seconds away from a rage fit. “We need to find our way back to the mansion,” Masky sighed. He began walking along the side of the road, assuming Hoodie and Toby would follow.

“You’re not seriously proposing we walk back to civilization are you?” Hoodie asked plainly. Masky gritted his teeth, annoyance washing over him. “You got a better idea?” He snapped. Toby skipped in front of Masky, turning around to face him as he walked backwards. “We c-c-can hit-tchhike!” He said cheerfully. Masky and Hoodie exchanged looks, watching as Toby raised his arm by the road. He raised a thumb, his signature bloody axe thrown over his opposite shoulder.

“Anyone who willful picks us up has got to be a lunatic,” Hoodie muttered. A set of headlights appeared over the clearing, the older men’s eyes narrowing at the sight of your car. “Looks like we got ourselves a lunatic,” Masky grumbled.

“L-l-let me do all of-f-f the talking gentleman,” The younger proxy said. Toby skipped to the front of the car, Masky and Hoodie watching dumbfounded as you rolled down your window. “Do you think it’s because she thinks the kids cute?” Masky asked his partner. Maybe he hadn’t been around women so long that they overlooked blood soaked axes if someone was attractive enough. Hoodie elbowed him. “It’s Halloween, that’s why she’s not bothered,” Hoodie replied quietly. How could Masky have forgotten? Thats the entire reason they were able to complete their mission to begin with.

“You know the rules we can’t have witnesses, no matter how cute,” Hoodie whispered. Masky eyed you carefully, noticing your doe eyes and plump lips. You seemed to be wearing some sort of fairy costume, one that made your breast sit upright. Masky sighed. “Of course. We get in the car and let her drive for a bit. Gives us a break. Once we come to a stopping point we’ll make it short and sweet,” Masky told Hoodie. He gestured his head to the revolver in his jacket pocket, the outline shoving just ever so slightly. Toby came back around the car, waving for them to join him. “Dibsss o-on shotgun!” Toby cheered.

As Masky approached the car he gently shoved Toby towards the backseat. “Yeah right kid, take a seat,” He huffed. Masky slid into the passengers seat of the car, your lips curling into a bright smile. “Hi i’m y/n,” You greeted. Masky gave you a brief nod, the three of them settling into the car. You noted their silence, deciding to change the conversation. “So, where you guys needing to go?” You asked. You started the car again, driving down the windy road. It became apparent that you were intoxicated, your perfume not able to conceal the smell of alcohol. Masky would’ve questioned your ability to drive, if he cared to survive a possible crash.

Death would be a pleasant surprise, if Slender didn’t have EJ bring him back in time. The healing process would be a bitch. “Just back to town. We got lost partying in the woods,”Hoodie answered quickly. Every so often it impressed Masky how quickly his partner could lie on the spot. You nodded. “Well i’m glad I found you guys, Halloween can get pretty crazy,” You slurred. Masky watched cautiously as your eyes flickered into the rearview mirror, looking at Hoodie and Toby. If it were up to him he would have you drive the entire way, so he could relax his never ending storm of a mind.

“What are you three dressed up as? I’m Tinkerbell as you might’ve guessed,” You giggled. Unfortunately your talking and questions were starting to get on Masky’s last nerve. “Y-you ev-ver see the purge? We’re dressed like them!” Toby replied, his neck twitching ever so slightly. Masky refrained from audibly sighing. Toby’s neck only ever twitched like that when he genuinely enjoyed talking to someone. He needed the kid to not get attached to you. Would only make the disposal process harder. And trust him, no one chops up a body like Toby does.

“Thats cool, definitely unique masks you guys have. Can I touch?” You asked innocently. You reached over to Masky, your fingertips threatening to graze his mask. The brunette could feel himself growing angry, his mask the one possession he could not allow to be touched. Hoodies loud coughing stopped your motion, your hand frozen as you glanced back in the rearview mirror. “Are you okay?” You asked cautiously. Masky sighed in relief as you retracted your hand. Hoodie continued fake coughing, giving you a thumbs up with one of his gloved hands.

The games and chit chat were growing old. Maybe if they were normal men, who actually were coming from a Halloween party, you’d be enjoyable. Maybe one of them would be lucky enough to take you home and fuck your brains out in that slutty Tinkerbell costume of yours. But they weren’t normal men and none of them were lucky. “He’s fine, just has bad a-a-asthma,” Toby explained, patting Hoodies shoulder. Masky could see Hoodie subtly cringe at the sensation of physical touch. He despised anyone touching him. “I have asthma too! Hang on I think I have an inhaler in the glovebox,” You replied.

You made a slow left on the windy road, the city lights slowly coming into view from a far. “Hey do you mind grabbing the inhaler from the glovebox?” You asked Masky. He did as instructed, clearing his throat as he handed the inhaler back to Hoodie. It was a subtle signal that they needed to get on with disposing of you. They were close enough to the city now. “Welllll you guys don’t seem like big talkers so i’ll play some music. Is that okay?” You asked. Toby nodded profusely. Music always made the kid overly excited. Masky began to reach in his coat pocket, his revolver always loaded and ready to go. He could feel his metal wrapped around the metal, itching with anticipation.

Your fingertips pressed the center console, turning on a tune Masky hadn’t heard in a long time. The Smiths filled his ears, the lead singers voice soothing. He glanced in the rearview mirror, Hoodie’s head beginning to twitch to the left. Shit, Brian’s gonna be fronting. Masky’s gaze landed on Toby, whose leg was jumping up and down front excitement. This band reminded Hoodie too much of his previous life, triggers like those allowing Brian to front earlier than expected. Masky sighed as the chorus came on, his jaw beginning to clench as an all too familiar pounding began in the front of his temple.

Brian could see Masky’s switch, his hand rubbing his temple as it always did when Tim was about to front. Tim blinked a few times, his breathing feeling suffocated under his mask. His hand slid out of his jacket, leaving his revolver inside. He quickly shoved his mask off, fear washing over him with the realization as to what he just did. Not only could they not have witnesses, but they most certainly could not let anyone who saw their faces walk away alive. Tim shot Brian a worried look, Brian quick to shove off his ski mask. As The Smiths played in the background Tim cleared his throat.

“I’m Tim by the way, and he’s Brian,” He said. He pointed at Toby with him thumb over the seat. “And I’m sure Toby has introduced himself,”

How could they get out of this without killing you?

How could they get out of this without killing you?

How could they get out of this without killing you?

You smiled drunkenly, Tim noticing your slight curve when driving. “Do you guys want to stop by waffle house?” You asked. Toby went to immediately agree, Brian’s hand flying over his mouth. “Maybe some other time, we have uh, work tomorrow,” Brian answered. Toby shoved his arm away, Brian struggling to keep his hand over the younger man’s mouth. “Bummer. I should probably go home too. Works such a bitch,” You sighed. Tim was trying to listen to you, he really was. But all he could think about was how he was going to have to order your execution. To arrange your meeting with death himself.

His brown eyes flickered to Brian’s in the rearview mirror, who were silently awaiting his instruction. Tim knew his partners expectation, but as he looked over at you, he just couldn’t do it. As you drove into the city you hummed along to the song, your fingers tapping along the steering wheel to the beat. Tim couldn’t put his finger on why exactly he was determined to let you go. Maybe it was his morality that surfaced when he immediately switched. Maybe it was how tired he truly was. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept. Whatever it was, something about you called to him. That calling involving you being alive.

The city lights were mixtures of purples and yellows, illuminating the inside of the car. “Can you pull over at the gas station up here? We live nearby,” Brian interjected, ruining the silence. You nodded, turning on your blinker and driving over to the right lane. Tim didn’t want to leave just yet, resentment of Brian’s words washing over him as you parked the car. “Well here we are,” You say. It wasn’t hard to see you were still drunk, your eyes glazed over. Tim couldn’t help but conclude your intoxication was the only reason you were so calm.

“Thanks for the ride, appreciate it,” Brian said, sliding out of the backseat. Tim listened to the car door slam, slowly taking off his seatbelt. Toby followed his lead. “B-b-bye beautiful!” He said, retreating from the car. Tim gave you a brief glance. He was doing the right thing by sparing your life, right? He slid out of the car, grabbing his mask and shoving it into his coat. You rolled down your passenger window, giving them a wave. “I’ll see you guys around, right?” You asked. Something about the ominous three men was intriguing, a mystery seemingly dying to be solved.

“Most definitely,” Tim replied. He leaned down, propping his arms on the passenger door as he peered down inside of your car. “Seriously, thanks for the ride. If we run into each other again we’ll make up for it,” Tim offered. You smiled, the faintest flush of pink highlighting your cheeks. “I’d like that a lot,” You replied. Tim leaned away, giving you a wave.

“Goodbye Y/n.”

“Goodbye Tim.”

With that you drove away, leaving Tim standing beside Brian and Toby. “You let her go?” Brian questioned. Tim dug into his pants, digging out a box of cigarettes. “Just like that?” Brian continued to questioned. Tim shrugged, bringing a cigarette to his lips. “No sense in killing her. She did us a favor,” He replied blandly. He began digging around for a lighter, Toby furiously jumping in between them. “What?!?! Y-you guys-s-s wanted to kill her?” Toby gasped. Brian rolled his eyes. “Dont be so naive, she’s a witness and we leave no witnesses behind,” He informed him. Brian shot Tim a dirty look and added, “Especially after they’ve seen our faces.”

Tim was aware he was breaking about twenty different protocols by letting you go. He was also more than aware Toby could’ve taken care of you entirely, he wouldn’t have needed to be involved. But he wanted you to live. It was an odd sensation he had never truly felt before, raw craving for someone that came across their path to walk away scratch free. “How long are we stationed here?” Brian asked. Tim finally found his lighter, igniting the end of his cigarette. Once he inhaled he replied, “About another three months.”

Brian crossed his arms, both him and Toby trailing behind Tim as he began to stroll down the sidewalk. He exhaled through his nose, ignoring Brian’s dirty looks. “How exactly do you propose we avoid her for three months?” He asked. Tim rolled his eyes. “For starters there’s the entire possibility she’ll be too drunk to remember us anyways,” He began. He watched as Toby galloped ahead, his axe slung over his shoulder like always. Tim brought out his pack of cigarettes again, gesturing for Brian to take one.

“Besides her meeting us was a mistake. A girl like that doesn’t belong in our world. She’ll never see us again. We’ll be a drunken memory,” Tim insisted. Brian took a cigarette, a gesture that meant he was going to try to trust Tim on this. Tim flickered the lighter, igniting the end of Brian’s cigarette. Once Brian inhaled, the two continued walking.

“You just let her go because she’s cute huh?”

“Dude shut up.”

—> chapter one

[failing-to-write-again]

The sakamaki finds their self staring at their S/O baby/kids photos or maybe vice Vera, pick you’re favourite!

BABY PICTURES!!!

I'm picking both because I'm an indecisive lil'bitch, so this is part 1 with the Sakamakis seeing you as children. This took way longer than expected but I got bad writers block with Kanato, Laito, and Ayato in particular.

Part 2

TW: Some mildly degrading language, it comes with the DL terrotory, Laito calls reader a whore once.

Shu Sakamaki

Perhaps if you were less tired you would have heard the door creak open or felt the hallway's light hitting your eyes as he entered your room. While not requiring heat, it was a luxury Shu enjoyed indulging in it and you tended to give the best reactions to his cold fingers waking you.

This time though you looked exhausted, a long exam season having drained you more than he would have thought. Besides, it would be funniest if you had the energy to react well. So for now he was intent on joining you in dreamland. That was until his eyes strayed to your vanity where a book lay half open. A clearer look showed a small child grinning up at him, and the note "Sweet Pea's first contest" was scrawled on a slip of paper attached to the bottom left corner.

You were sat beside an older girl both in tutus your hair adorned with with a delicate tiara complimenting your light pink, glittery costume. It looked like you were matching the older girl who was dressed in the more traditional sugar plum fairy outfit. Flicking through the book it looked like you must still be a ballerina, he especially loved your first point shoe photo, you were beaming at yourself in a mirror while standing holding the bar.

The last photo was dated as being almost a year ago, you were stunning. On stage front and center leg held high being supported by your partner as you stared dainty upwards to the side, ironically you were also a sugar plum fairy. Except there was something much more ethereal compared to the first picture he saw, you must have been some prodigy to look this way. The spotlight had all of you glowing, the layers of tulle and jewels only accentuating your glow rather than causing it.

You also had a photo with a young girl after the show, a change in generations perhaps? But, you didn't look as happy. There was the arm of a man in the frame slightly, wearing some robe similar to Yui's dad. Flicking between the first and last photo there was a clear difference between your smile reaching your eyes. You looked so hollow compared to your younger self.

The noise of you stirring slightly and turning over is what brings him back to reality, looking at you now it would be a lie to say he ever saw you smile the way you do in these photos, a beaming toothy grin in an expression he could only call personified sunshine. Now, none of that was visible. What little joy was left in that photo of you and the child had been eradicated. You were paler, and more gaunt due to constant blood draining. You had bags heavy under your eyes and knots in your hair. Punctures littered your neck, painful angry marks unhealed and just left there to further your pain.

He never asked about your hobbies or life before the manor, he knew very little about your past what he had seen while at your least intruding to try minimize the harm his brother, no he was causing. He didn't like this feeling, a rolling unsettling feeling in his stomach. He couldn't look at you as he slunk away.

Reiji Sakamaki

"Seriously, must you be so rude to delay all of our journey home."

Pushing open the doors to the school library he met the sight of your head against a book out cold. Walking closer it was clear you had been studying for some time, a mixture of notes and books laid around you. Tutting, Reiji brushed some pencil shavings away noticing the golden chain wrapped around your fingers a small heart nestled in your palm.

Turning it over it fell open to reveal two halves, one empty the other revealing a young girl in the lap of two people, their heads were out of the frame. Picking up the locket to more closely examine it, the girl was holding a teddy bear with a big red bow matching the red dress she was in.

"They took that picture before they sent me off to the church"

"What?"

Turning his head back to face her, she had sat up and wiped her eyes. Resting her head in her hand and looking at his hand with some far away look in her eyes.

"The church that supplies your sacrifices, cults are always going to exist but yours is less popular than you know. So they trick people or offer to buy their children flat out. Some of the girls had seen their parents trying to get them back, tricked into believing the church was a boarding school. I'm not sure what mine believed, I never saw them again. I don't have any other pictures of them."

"You don't believe in the Church? Yui seems rather devoted still, I know how you humans work and-"

"Yui was raised in the Church by a leading priest who at least pretended to love her, I was shipped off and locked in a building raised to be killed. If you want to view the world as one dimensional, I'd like to remind you that it goes both ways. So I know you vampires are so incapable of managing yourselves you lose all decorum when blood is involved and have seemingly failed to learn how to wipe your mouth." She was sneering, evidently it was harder to hold her tongue freshly woken up. All he could focus on was the swirling pain in your eyes, it was the closest he'd ever seen her get to tears, it took him aback.

The silence seemed to only further solidify your upset, shaking your head and grabbing the locket and your bag before walking out of the library. Reiji hung back for a moment, almost reflective before turning back to the table. The notes were insightful, she had interacted with the material rather than the girls in the school that begged him for help. He had to wonder if perhaps he was using a less than adequate sample population...

Walking out to return to the limo he had to begin considering appropriate response to this outburst.

Ayato Sakamaki

"Yo, you better hurry up Ore-sama waits for no-one!"

"I'm showering, you're the one that came into my room." Scowling the red head dropped down onto your bed only to feel something poking him. Lifting the mattress revealed a flat tin box you had hidden suspiciously. Nosey as he is, he immediately opened the box to be faced with a collection of different photos. Some were of you in some school uniform with some friends, you look around 13 in some of them. Other, newer, photos have you in some brick building with those other girls, as well as some of the previous brides, some wore crosses similar to Yui's but you weren't. You were sat on a window ledge a small cupcake in your lap with those other brides living here, your eyes had that same hollow look you get when he insults you. The worse one though was a picture of you as a toddler, sat on a woman's lap with a tiny paper hat on your head. You were grinning in front of a cake lit up with 3 candles.

How dare you. Being so happy and hiding these expressions from him but showing them to other people. As this is crossing his mind he hears the door creaking open as you enter still drying your hair before freezing.

"How did you get that." You were trembling, eyes fixed on the box still in his lap.

"How dare you hide things for Ore-sama! You are mine nobody else's you have to give me everything. And this," He held up the box, shaking it to punctuate his words. "This is proof you are hiding things from yours truly!"

Tossing the box into the fire in a fit of rage, watching you cry as you try to save some of the photos. He eventually pulled you away, drinking you near faint and watching as you stumble trying to run away when he let you go. Watching as the flames slowly cause the photos to curl in on your small round face while you wait to blow out your candles. As well as listening as you sobbed just outside the door.

Kanato Sakamaki

Kanato had demanded to see what was in your suitcase the moment you had passed the doors into this hellhole. Thankfully Reiji had insisted that it was improper and due to his short attention span the purple haired menace had mostly forgotten. As weeks passed it had completely slipped your mind as you were far too preoccupied trying not to die. While walking through the halls of the manor back to your room after school your mind drifted to Kanato's bizarre behavior.

Kanato, for some reason, followed you around more than the other girls here, you were unsure how to feel about him all in all. He had moments where he was incredibly sweet and nice only to change in an instance with no predictability into screaming, violent rages. He was bad news, with no motivation or willingness to try change or improve you had to live in constant tension over what mood he'd be in. No better example came to mind that what you faced upon opening your door.

Kanato sat at the foot of your bed, your suitcase open and a scattered collection of pictures of you around them. Your heart was in your throat, unable to see his face to know how to act or run. Your hands were clammy, those photos were important to you and while you wouldn't mind showing people Kanato was ultimately a risk, he could rip them up or hurt you for having them.

"Hey, you were a cute child strawberry." Kanato was half facing you now, focusing on the picture in his hand you in a princess bouncy castle at your cousin's 5th birthday. You loved that one, you had dressed up as Rapunzel, you had a lilac tea dress on and your mother had bought fake hair to braid in with yours to extend its length. Gently stepping closer you explained this to Kanato, and about her being your favorite as a child.

"You can sit closer, I want you to tell me more." He didn't sound angry, rare for when he made demands. and you want it to stay that way. Sitting closer he also shifts to have his right knee brushing your leg as he sat crossed legged. He had his arm holding himself up behind you. Sitting in that pose, if it weren't for the clothes, he looks like a normal teenager.

He kept you there for over an hour it felt good to get to talk about your life before being a sacrifice. It was the longest you had ever seen him lucid. You eventually nod off, vaguely comprehending fingers slowly running through your hair and a blanket being draped around you.

Laito Sakamaki

Laito strikes a balance between crazy and insane that while still very much not sane, he's better at hiding it. For the past few months while here you've seen him slowly tailor his behavior to somewhat better suit you. While still a complete perv, once he realized his attempts at flirting didn't work he changed tactics, a few times, until there was this uneasy understanding between you both. You weren't friends or anything but his worst behaviors were saved for when he was hungry for the most part, other than that he was mostly just an annoyance. An annoyance currently not letting you take your time with the Sunday crossword. "8 across is isthmi, strip of land connecting two large areas separated by a body of water."

"I knew that."

"Is that why you took so long to write it down?" I could only glare as he sat there one hand holding up his head on the opposite end of the sofa. Chewing my cheek to stop a sly remark I twirled my pen before filling in the answer. It's been a few days since he's drank, too many smart remarks could have bad results.

Between answering hints that I was taking too long to figure out, Laito was playing with the other pages of the newspaper, folding them into aeroplanes to send across the room. Fiddling with one of his most recent planes absentmindedly, he began to speak.

"The real question is why do you do these crosswords when you're so bad at them." He was grinning as he looked up to see my reaction. However, unlike my normal remarks my face must've fallen because he looked incredibly confused.

"Oh? Strike a nerve little whore?~" He was all but purring, reveling in getting under my skin so effectively. All I could do in response is shake my head turning back to try focus on the crossword. About a minute of silence passed of pretending to focus on the page. Suddenly feeling breath near the back of my ear I flinch turning to see him hovering above me, arm on the headrest behind me and his other on the armrest caging me in. Panicking my breathing picked up as I tried to ensure as much distance between me and him as possible.

"Pictures," he mumbled. "The answer is pictures 4 down, you're not that bad...what are you thinking." He was staring straight at me, seeing straight through me. He reached back to his pocket before placing a familiar photo in front of me, the old crease down the center where I folded it in half to fit in my old uniform. It was a photo from the dormitories, I was 5 working on a crossword page torn from the paper while the older girls in the room were reading the paper and the younger ones played.

"I found it when going through your stuff to see what could be returned to you, can't have cellphones or anything useful for escape. Only to find this, some of those other girls are in the photo and just like every Sunday you ripped out the crossword page. Why?"

I didn't like this Laito, when he was just as sharp as his older brother's and not as easy to placate as the other two triplets. This Laito, who has now left me to share things I would've much rather keep private.

"Nowadays, the Church operates as a boarding school to draw in brides. You get there and you are cut off from the outside world, they tell us the girls run away when they're sent here. They wouldn't give us any real information, too many heretics in the world." Picking at the frayed edges of my hoodie's arm, I took a deep breath before continuing on. "I told the matron I liked crosswords, she did the weekly Sudoku, so since I was young I knew she thought I wouldn't break any rules. I would tear out the crossword page to do while the older girls read the paper to collect any news on disappearances and just on the greater world in general. I would return the paper and say I tore out the crossword to keep to see how my timing improved. Now it's just a habit that paper will never say anything about us or anything that can help right."

I saw him sit back out of the corner of my eye. Readying myself to be bitten or mocked I kept looking down.

"You still stick your tongue out when you focus, its cute."

Before I could even look up he was gone.

Subaru Sakamaki

Out of all the Sakamaki brothers, Subaru was by far the safest. His anger was predictable and mostly posed a risk to furniture over you, even his bites were gentle and so long as he didn't rush off he would seal the wound with what you had dubbed 'nasty healing spit'. So when he unofficial began acting as your bodyguard you didn't complain, or even acknowledge it out of fear he would stop and leave you to the bats.

The new routine was by far the most peaceful you had experienced in some time. You ate your breakfast on your balcony watching the sunset before the white haired shadow took his place brooding nearby. This 'morning' was no different, you set eating your breakfast as you looked through a small pile of photos that the computer club had salvaged from the remnants of your phone. As the sky faded from orange, to purple, to the dark blue of summer nights and stars began to appear in the sky you sat back, eying the door waiting for his appearance.

Your door opened, his figure being somewhat visible through the sheer curtains as he yawned. Once he pulled the curtain back to step outside he scowled seeing you waiting, but when did he not? He silently placed himself leaning against the door frame while you remained seated.

"You can sit closer you know. I don't bite, promise!" Grinning up at Subaru while his scowl worsened.

"You aren't going to last long if you have that attitude stupid."

"I thought we had an agreement, most liars don't call themselves liars."

"I'm a vampire, you shouldn't be so careless if you value your life."

Sighing and turning back to your pictures, you both continued to sit in silence. It took 5 minutes for Subaru to give in and move closer. You were still going through the photos not acknowledging his movement. If there's anything you've learnt it's that if you ever point out Subaru's behavior he runs away, ironic for such a fearsome creature. After he had some time to work up the courage he pointed to one in your hand.

"Who's that?"

The photo was of you wearing some roller skates at a roller disco party, you were 7 or 8. Your wrists covered in sparkly wrist bands and plasters covering your knees and palms from how much you had slipped practicing to avoid embarrassment.

"It's me at one of my friend's birthday party, About a year after this I first got sent to this boarding school linked to the Church. After a few years I was cut off from everyone and sent here. That was the last time I saw her actually, she moved away."

The albino nodded in understanding before once again entering into a lapse of silence. He kept looking back to that photo while you organized the rest of the pile, wrapping the photos in a piece of paper to prevent any sun or dust damage. Standing back up and collecting your belongings you looked to him expectantly. However, he just continued to stare off into the distance.

Weighing up your options and how much you currently valued your life, you leaned down to tap his shoulder. Aside from a minor jolt he seemed more receptive to you. Passing over the photo you were smiling.

"I don't want to look at this it makes me sad, but it seemed to catch your attention to here."

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (23)

To prevent Daemon from contesting their marriage, Aemond and Arianwyn proceed with the Bedding Ceremony.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: smut (vaginal fingering, oral f receiving, p in v)

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.”

Aemond had dreamed of saying those words to Aria for nigh on a decade, though he had desired her kiss for even longer. Her sparkling silver eyes fluttered closed as he brought his hands up to cup her face, careful not to aggravate the bruises forming along her soft jawline. She was the very image of the Maiden – pure, innocent, and celestially beautiful.

He thought that with all the fairy tales they had read together, he would know what true love’s kiss would feel like. It was the kiss shared between the hero and his lady love as they left danger far behind. The kiss that broke curses and conquered evil. The kiss that began a happy ending.

This was all that and more. With her kiss, he became whole again.

Aria’s lips were deliciously soft and thrillingly cool, sending a shiver down Aemond’s spine. He felt, more than heard, a slight sound leave her as he pressed closer, the tip of his nose digging into her flushed cheeks. Her mouth opened slightly, her arms lacing around his neck and into his hair as she pushed forward.

Was she… kissing him back? Could he ever be so blessed by the gods to not only marry the woman he loved but to have her return his affections?

He let himself believe it for a moment rather than concede that she was only doing what was expected of her. Still, he would have gladly spent the rest of his days beneath the weirwood tree with his mouth on hers, his hands on her face, and her fingers in his hair. But they were not the only ones present in the Godswood, he had to remind himself as he pulled away from her sweet lips.

She kept her arms around him as she turned to look at their sparse audience, who applauded politely. He did not let go either, for he now had every right to touch his wife whenever and wherever he wished.

When the clapping faded, Aemond asked Septon Eustace, “What do we do now?” There was no feast prepared, no wedding gifts to receive or toasts to hear. All that remained…

“The bedding ceremony,” Maester Orwyle answered, though he pointedly looked away from the new couple. Most of those gathered did. It made sense, many of them had contributed to raising them. The idea that it was now their duty to escort them to their consummation was uncomfortable. “If you should wish it, my prince – and princess.”

Suddenly consumed by timidness, Aemond looked anywhere but at his new wife. Yes, he wished for it and had for years. But he would not force Aria. It was bad enough that her choice of husband had been all but taken from her. He would not make her endure something which would undoubtedly be unpleasant for her. “It has been a trying day for all of us. I think it best – ”

“Yes,” Arianwyn interjected, and Aemond's heart nearly leaped out of his chest. “We want… the… yes, we do.”

She was nervous, so much so that he could feel her hands shaking. “Aria, we don’t have to. If you don’t want to.”

What was he doing? Had he not imagined taking her to his bed for years? Why was he fighting this?

The answer was simple: because he loved her, and he would do anything for her, even deny his instincts and desires.

Arianwyn placed a hand on his chest, and he had to take a deep, steadying breath to keep himself from kissing her again. “We do have to, Aemond. If the marriage is consummated, it will make it harder for my father to annul it.”

So, she did not want to lie with him. She only knew it was the best strategy to prevent Daemon from re-taking her.

That was fine.

He could be fine with that.

And he would make sure she was fine, too. That he did not cause her any pain or discomfort, so she would not regret this choice.

It was better than never having her, wasn’t it?

“If you’ll forgive my intrusion,” Ser Criston said as he stepped forward. His dark eyes met Aemond’s with a too-knowing worry. “I believe the Prince’s apartments in the Holdfast will be more secure come the morning.”

With a stiff nod, Aemond agreed. He hated that their protection was a concern when their wedding night should be only joyful. But so little about this night had been so, save the few perfect moments when Aria smiled at or touched him. When she agreed to marry him.

Aria squeezed his hand, pulling away from the haze his thoughts were drawing him into. Her silver eyes threatened to drag him into a deeper trance, but then they flicked toward their meager crowd.

Everyone was staring at them. Why? What had gone wrong now?

Oh, yes. He remembered now.

The bedding began with the escort to the bedchamber. Traditionally, the women escorted the groom to his chambers for the bedding. Yet now, there were no women in attendance save for the bride.

Damn, they should have sent for Brynna or Helaena. Or his mother. She would be able to help him quell the panic that was beginning to rise in his chest. Besides, they would all be sorely disappointed that they could not witness the ceremony. He would have to find some way to make it up to them.

“I will escort you, my prince,” Criston said, ignoring the slight laughter from the younger members of the Bronze Guard, as well as Ser Adrew, who Aemond thought was certainly too old for such juvenile humor.

Nevertheless, Adrew gave voice to the joke in all their minds, “No need to undress him, Cole. Best leave that to our lady, don’t you think?”

The stifled chuckling from the assembled guards faded as Aemond and Ser Criston disappeared into the Red Keep once more, and Arianwyn felt a rush of longing fill her heart. Longing for her new husband. For Aemond. Whom she had just married. Who was now her husband, and she his wife.

She needed a moment. A few moments, perhaps.

Eustace yawned. “It would seem that my responsibilities have concluded. If you will excuse me, I will happily return to my bed. My Lady, you have my congratulations.”

The old Septon did not wait for a reply before he strode from the Godswood, leaving Arianwyn alone at the base of the Heart Tree, save for her guards and Grand Maester Orwyle – not quite the procession she imagined for her bedding ceremony.

She had always expected that Aegon would be the one leading her to her husband’s chambers, laughing through his usual drunken haze as he watched an assortment of equally intoxicated young lords tear her clothing away. Never once did she picture being led to her marriage bed by a man who had taken vows of celibacy and twelve knights, half of whom had been protecting her since she was a babe.

However, as she considered the alternative, she decided this was far more appealing.

Indeed, Ser Warren’s touch was gentle as he offered her his arm to lead her from the Godswood. “I hope you will forgive us if we do not behave in the… traditional manner,” he said, avoiding meeting her eyes.

“There is nothing to forgive,” Arianwyn replied, wrapping her arm around his, grateful for the stability he provided. “At least not from me. Though I believe Aegon will be inconsolably jealous that you took his rightful place as my escort.”

They all laughed quietly at her words, the joyful sound echoing off the stone as they entered Maegor’s Holdfast.

“I doubt Prince Aegon would have ever had the chance,” Orwyle mused. “I am only aware of him mentioning escorting you once, and Prince Aemond struck him so hard in return that I had to place several stitches in his brow.”

Another round of laughter went through the party, including Arianwyn, and none tried to stifle it this time. After all, the bedding ceremony was supposed to be a time of joy and excitement; why shouldn’t they laugh?

“You and Lady Arianwyn have my most sincere congratulations, my prince.”

Aemond heard Cole’s words as if they were whispered across the length of the Great Hall. The roaring of his blood in his ears and the bruising pounding of his heart were too loud for him to truly hear the words of the man just steps behind him.

He tore off his jacket with trembling hands and threw it across the stair banister. Though he was cold to the point of shivering, he could not breathe with it restricting his chest. Still, even free from it, he gulped in air as if he’d run up every stair in the Holdfast.

Why was his mind doing this? He was happy. Perhaps happier than he’d ever been. So why? Why?

“She did not want this,” he answered with a groan as he leaned his brow against the wall, hoping it would ease the fire in his throat and relieve the weight of cold iron in his belly. She does not want me.

Cole stepped toward him, his armor creaking. “Pardon?”

Aemond was no longer in his chambers.

He was beneath their table in the library. Dozens of papers were scattered on the floor before him, the writing and drawings beginning to blur the longer he stared at them. The back of his head ached from slamming it into the thick wood of the table, and Aria sat beside him, her arms folded tightly over her chest and the beginnings of tears in her small voice.

Reality returned, though his head still ached with phantom pain.

“Aria never wanted to be married,” he whispered. “When we were children, she told me she feared it. Of being chained to a stranger.”

He promised to protect her from that stranger.

“That is an understandable fear, but you are no stranger to her,” Cole said as if it were perfectly logical, as he always did. Damn him. His unfailing logic had often eased Aemond’s worries. But not now. Not when there was such a glaring fault in it.

“I am not who she remembers me to be.”

The Aemond she remembered smiled easily. He did not.

Her Aemond was happy. He was not.

Aria’s best friend was simply Aemond. But now, he was Aemond ‘One-Eye.’

An armored hand came to rest on his shoulder. “You are the same in the ways that matter.”

“Perhaps.”

Aria was the same. Still sweet and kind, intelligent and composed, and beautiful. Gods, she was so beautiful that it made his chest ache. And despite everything, she smiled.

“Do you love her, Aemond?”

The answer was instinctive. “I do.” So much that it hurts. That she haunts my every thought. I love her so dearly that I would destroy the world just to make her smile.

“Then that is enough.”

Aemond did not believe him.

“As I understand it,” Arianwyn said, turning back to face her knights, “You are meant to make lewd jokes and tell thorough tales of your past conquests to prepare me for what I will face once we reach our destination. Or are you all as cloistered as this man of vows?”

She playfully nudged Orwyle before Warren pulled her back to his side. The Grand Maester’ flushed, but he only raised his brows suggestively.

“Our pickings have been slim as of late, my Lady,” the youngest of her guards, Ser Trevor Wren, replied. Though not slim enough to stop him from flirting with the kitchen maids whenever they delivered Arianwyn’s morning and afternoon meals.

“I doubt Trev has any tales to tell, Princess,” Ser Colren Shett said dryly. “By the time he got to Dragonstone, what few fair women there were knew to avoid bronze armor all too well.”

Nearly all the Bronze Guard laughed raucously, surprising Arianwyn. “I had no idea my sworn protectors were so notorious!”

Ser Warren sighed heavily. “Apologies, lady, but bachelors are hard to keep confined. Give me time, and I’ll find worthy wives to settle them.”

The words did not sit right with Arianwyn, as if a wife were simply a remedy, like boiled wine or milk of the poppy. “Is that the purpose of a wife?” she asked. “To settle a man?”

“Of course not!” He was stuttering as soon as he realized he had upset her. “Though, in my experience,… when a man loves a woman, he has reason to fight, survive, and return home. A married man will, therefore, carry himself with more dignity and honor than a bachelor.”

“That may even be romantic, Ser Warren.” Her desperate desire to return home to King’s Landing – to Aemond – had prevented her from doing anything to upset her father for the years she was confined to Dragonstone. She was often tempted to contradict him or spit insults at her stepbrothers, but she would never risk extending her confinement.

Remembering the long years they spent apart darkened her mood, and the procession again fell into silence as they walked through the empty stone halls. How would things have been different had they not been so cruelly separated?

By now, they could have already been married in a ceremony that befitted their station. They could already have a child, with perhaps another on the way. They could be living peacefully at Runestone, away from the chaos of court and the reach of her father’s influence.

Though it was just as possible that they could have drifted away from each other. It was likely that they both would have been betrothed to different strangers as part of their family’s diplomatic machinations. They would be hundreds, perhaps thousands of miles apart, once again relying on nothing but letters to sustain them.

But they weren’t. They had suffered immensely, but they were together.

A smile had just returned to Arianwyn’s face when she realized they had arrived at an unfamiliar door. “Where are we?”

“Prince Aemond’s apartments,” Orwyle answered. “His new apartments.”

It was strange thinking of Aemond in a new place. In her mind, he and his rooms were one. The drawings of legendary weapons that papered his walls. The cloaks and gloves thrown carelessly across furniture. Stacks of books as tall as trees beside the overstuffed bookshelves.

How empty those rooms must be now, as if inhabited by a ghost. How strange it would be to see so much of Aemond in unfamiliar places. But…

She could barely make out the faded carvings, but there they were. The same runes he had carved into his old door, now etched here. Made long ago, it seemed, for how worn they were, as though he had touched them every time he entered his apartments.

There, that was Aemond.

“When did he move?” she asked, fingers still absentmindedly tracing the runes, over and over, beginning to end and back again.

“After he was released from the Maester’s tower following Driftmark,” Ser Criston eyed the Maester as he emerged from the doorway. He smiled, but his dark eyes were strained. “He is waiting for you, Lady.”

A shiver ran through her, and she tightened her grip on Warren’s arm to steady her as she turned to the Bronze Guard. “I believe you were supposed to have me completely undressed by now.”

Ser Adrew smirked, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “Prince Aemond shall simply have to do the honors himself.”

Oh.

Of course.

Aemond would undress her.

His long, nimble fingers would unlace her dress, his skin brushing hers.

He would see her naked.

She would see him naked.

She could not decide whether she was excited or terrified. Perhaps both.

Arianwyn released Warren’s arm. Her entire body tingled with excitement and fear as he reached around her to remove the white cloak from her shoulders.

“There,” he said. “Now I have undressed you and fulfilled my duty.”

But she was too anxious to respond as he reached forward to open the door, and she stepped through.

A courtyard, one she had never seen, wide and clean and open, stretched all around her. The moon shone down from above as if it had followed her from the Weirwood tree. But there were no red leaves for the light to play in, no bone-white bark to set aglow, only –

The faint glint of silver thread on purple silk peeked out from a mass of black leather. Aemond’s jacket, carelessly discarded across a banister.

Arianwyn crossed the courtyard to grab it, carefully freeing the silk from the pocket sewn into the breast of the coat. It was still warm. Aemond was always warm, even in the cold of winter. She had fond memories of pressing into his side while they read in the library, far from any hearths or fires.

The black, silver, and bronze thread of her creation had not frayed but had lost its stiffness over the years. Now, each rune was as soft and pliable as the silk it was sewn to. For all these years, Aemond had kept it. Arianwyn had only ever intended it as instructions for the lapidarist at Runestone, but Ser Gerold had delivered the cloth along with the jewel, and Aemond had saved it.

Not only that, but he kept it with him, close to his heart.

She needed to find him.

She was at the closest door – one of four off the courtyard – before she knew she was moving. With the silk still in hand, she raised her fist to the dark wood and knocked twice.

There was a long moment of silence before she heard Aemond’s voice.

“Aria? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

When he emerged, his brow was furrowed, though he was relieved to see Arianwyn still fully clothed. He, too, was fully dressed save for his jacket, his white cotton shirt untucked and hanging loosely around his lean form.

“Why did you knock?” he asked.

“I…” Arianwyn looked down, suddenly embarrassed. “I didn’t know which door was yours.”

Aemond smiled. “I forgot you have not been here before. My apologies… wife.”

Her eyes met his, a giddy grin on her lips. “It will take me some time to get used to that, I think.”

Aemond took her hand and led her slowly into his bedchamber. “If you prefer, I will keep calling you simply ‘Aria.’”

“I would like that very much,” she replied, looking around the room.

It was well-appointed, with a couch and armchairs set before a crackling hearth, a large oaken bed clothed in silk, and plush rugs covering most of the stone floor. And there was no lack of books. Massive shelves wrapped around two corners, each bursting with hundreds of tomes.

Yet, it did not feel like Aemond. Not entirely. There was not a drawing in sight nor any carelessly discarded clothing. There was not even a single book out of place. It felt like Aemond, but subdued. Contained. Hidden.

When she had thoroughly inspected every corner and had nothing else to distract her, Arianwyn looked back at her husband.

Aemond stood only inches from her, clenching and unclenching his fists without rhythm. Slowly, he moved closer until their chests were just touching and brought one hand to the side of her face, lifting her chin towards him and the other to her waist before he leaned down and kissed her.

As fast as he had kissed her, he pulled back and turned away.

Arianwyn was left breathless, her scrap of silk falling to the floor. “Aemond?”

He dropped his head, chest heaving. “I am so sorry, Aria.”

“I don’t understand.” She stood in shock as tears began to sting her eyes.

His violet eye shone in the firelight when he looked back. “I am sorry it had to be this way,” he whispered. “You deserve so much better. You deserved a wedding as grand as you are, with more than just your guards in attendance. You deserve…” He loosely gestured between them, “To do this with a man you truly love.”

Her heart nearly cleaved in two. Didn’t he know? Had he not felt it in her kiss?

“Aemond,” she breathed, daring to bring herself closer to him. He stood unnaturally still, even as she brought her hand to his face, cradling his sharp jaw and tenderly running her thumb along the end of his scar. “I love you.”

His eye flashed to hers, wide and almost afraid.

“I love you so much,” she continued, tears finally spilling over, “that I do not possess sufficient words to express it. I believe I have for a long time, though I have only just realized it.” A laugh escaped her as she remembered every time Aemond made her smile, or laugh, or simply feel seen and safe. “That is what it has been all along, hasn’t it? Love?”

The fear did not vanish from his eye but deepened, even as his gaze softened. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Aemond.”

Aria loved Aemond.

She said so herself, then said it again.

Aemond kissed her before his mind had a chance to doubt it. Harder, deeper, and more earnestly than before. He poured all his love into that kiss, along with all the desperation with which he had longed for her.

When he had to pull back to catch his breath, one hand tangled in her hair while his other arm held her to his chest, he smiled ardently against her lips. “I have loved you from before I learned the meaning of the word.”

It was Aria who kissed him then. Too hard, too wet, and too eager. But he didn’t care. His heart was full to bursting, and the only thing he could think to do was kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her.

But more was expected of them than that.

She was the one who remembered, pulling away from him and bracing her hands on his chest to prevent him from catching her lips again. When he finally relented, a questioning look in his eye, she gave him a confident smile he could see through as easily as glass. She was nervous but pretending to be brave.

“Tell me what to do,” she said.

Aemond sighed, stroking her cheek. “I told you I will never command you.”

She put her hand over his, turning her head to place a kiss on his palm. “I am not asking for your command,” she replied, her voice teasingly soft. “I am asking what you want.”

Gods, she was the most tempting creature in the world. He wanted her so much it hurt. He wanted to press his lips to every inch of her skin, to kiss her so deeply that her taste would never leave his lips. He wanted to claim her, body and soul, until not even the gods could separate them. He wanted to hear her tell him that she loved him. Again, and again, and again.

But before that, he had one simple request.

“I want to see you,” he said, “all of you.”

Arianwyn smiled and turned around. She lifted her tangled curls over her shoulder, giving him access to the laces of her dress.

She startled slightly when Aemond nuzzled against her neck as he slowly loosened the slim straps of silk. His breath was warm against her skin, his lips soft as he traced them up to her jaw to her temple. She leaned further and further into him with every tantalizingly gentle brush of his fingers. When the dress finally fell to the floor, her head rested on his shoulder as she pushed her face into his neck.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he wrapped his arms around her, resting one hand against her belly while the other came up to cup her breasts.

Arianwyn sighed at the sensation, at the sheer intimacy of the contact, even through her chemise. None had ever touched her like that, and the sense of closeness it gave, the thrill of knowing it was forbidden to all but Aemond, was overwhelming. She whined when he removed his hands to slip the thin straps of the garment off her shoulder, and the silk puddled on the floor beneath her.

Then he stepped in front of her and, after a long moment staring hungrily at her naked form, dropped to his knees.

He wrapped his hands around her thigh, nimbly untying her garters. Even as he rolled each stocking torturously slowly down her legs, he never looked anywhere but into her eyes. His own, that lovely blue-purple color like the crown of the dawn, was hardly visible for the darkness that had consumed his gaze.

Once he had rid her of the last of her smallclothes, he pressed a chaste kiss to the soft skin just beneath her navel. Arianwyn moaned helplessly as an unfamiliar but exquisite heat pooled between her legs.

Before the sound had finished leaving her lips, Aemond rose to capture her mouth with his own. He hooked his hands around her head and neck and kissed her passionately, possessively, unyieldingly. All Arianwyn could do was hang onto him and try to answer his passion with her own.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses. “Only the gods themselves could have crafted something so divine as you.”

She blushed at his praise, running her fingers through his silken hair and hooking her thumb into the strap of his eyepatch. “May I return the favor?”

As if she had dumped a bucket of chill water upon him, Aemond pulled back, dropping his eye and wrapping his hand around her wrist, “It is… a grim sight. Are you sure?”

“I was there when it was lost,” she replied. “I did not run from you then, and I will not run from you now.”

A faltering smile. “You may not have run, but you did faint, as I recall.”

“That was only because of the blood,” she assured. “It’s not still bleeding, is it?”

“Not for many years.”

“Then I want to see,” she said, returning her hand to the eyepatch. “Don’t I deserve to see my gift?”

“Of course you do,” he finally relented, dipping his head to make it easier for her to slip the leather off his head and expose the scar.

Though he was still fully clothed, Aemond felt entirely naked.

None had seen him without his patch save his mother or Maester Orwyle in many years, the true gruesomeness of what he’d become hidden behind the dark leather. And now, he was bared before the one person whose disdain he feared most of all.

But true to her word, Aria did not recoil.

Aemond stood frozen and unbroken as she inspected him, and he shuddered, knowing too well what it was she saw.

His scar was deep, its color dark and tinged with red, running from close to his hairline through his brow and eye to the base of his cheek but an inch above his jaw. The cut had not been clean, likely due to the bluntness of the kitchen knife the bastard Lucerys had used, so the mark was jagged and wavered across his skin. But the various Maesters who treated him had done well to ensure it healed properly.

The eye, however, did not fare so well. The skin surrounding the sapphire now in its place was grey and wrinkled, so heavily scarred that what was left of the upper eyelid could only close a fraction of the way, and a large slice remained missing from the lower lid.

Aria ran a finger down his jaw, coaxing his good eye open. “It’s not quite the right color,” she whispered coyly, “but it is beautiful nonetheless.”

Aemond looked at her, silently pleading, do not lie to me.

“I mean it,” she she insisted. “You are gorgeous, Aemond. So painfully gorgeous that I cannot stand it.”

She kissed him again, slipping her hands beneath his loose shirt and running her cool fingers up the hard muscles of his chest. If she still desired him after seeing his scar uncovered, her sweet words must be true.

His hips instinctively rolled forward as he raised his arms to let her slide his shirt off. If he were not already achingly hard and straining against his trousers, the blissful chill of her touch on his skin would have brought him there instantly.

Curiously, she ran her fingers back down his chest, exploring each rise and crevice until she found herself gripping the waist of his trousers. She hesitated with her hands over the laces.

“Go on,” Aemond encouraged, brushing her wild tangle of silver hair away from her face.

She tilted her head up to look into his eye – his eyes, as she loosened the ties. At last, his trousers slumped over his hips, and Aria froze, her hands hovering in the air. Aemond bent down to remove his trousers himself, relieving his innocent wife of the responsibility and stood fully naked before her.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at the hard length of him. Perfectly innocent, as proper ladies were expected to be. Still, it pleased Aemond that he was the only man she had ever seen in this way, even if a small part of him wished she somehow had the knowledge to be impressed by his size.

Tentatively, she wrapped her fingers around his length and ran a curious thumb across a large vein. Aemond sucked in a harsh breath, nearly doubling over as he closed his eye and buried his face in her hair. Gods, it was a pleasure beyond anything he’d ever felt.

Aria swiftly recoiled her hand and pulled her hands away. “Did that hurt?” she asked with genuine concern.

Aemond only laughed, pulling her chin up to take her in another slow, passionate kiss. “No, my love,” he whispered. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Though he wanted her to take him in her hands again, an even more tantalizing prospect entered his mind. He bent down, wrapping his arms around her thighs and lifting her. “Let me show you.”

He carried her to the bed, reaching down to throw aside the blankets and furs atop it. Playfully, he tossed her onto the bed, lustily admiring how her breasts moved as she bounced on the mattress. He had grand plans for those, but for now, he was on a mission. He climbed onto the bed, straddling Aria on his hands and knees.

Gods, it was so hard to keep himself from her mouth. He caught her in another kiss, savoring the heat of her swollen lips and the blissful feel of her tongue against his.

“You were going to show me something?” She asked as she pulled away to take a breath.

He moaned as he moved his mouth to her collarbone. “Yes, I believe I was.” Never stopping suckling at her skin, he traced his long fingers down her chest, between the mounds of her breasts, and past her navel. He kept his touch light and as slow as he could manage for his eagerness.

The teasing paid off, for Aria’s hips instinctively rose, begging his fingers lower and lower. He happily complied. Pride surged in his chest as he felt the wetness of her folds. She was so eager for him as he was for her. His cock twitched as he imagined how it would feel sliding into her.

Not yet, he reminded himself.

Instead, he ran two fingers against her entrance as his thumb rose to the little spot Aegon had once told him of. He knew he had found it when she let out a desperate whimper, her legs squirming and toes clenching as she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

“That,” he said into her hot ear, “is what it feels like.”

She whined against his throat, “Do it again?”

“Gladly.”

He began to grind his thumb in slow circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he ran his fingers up and down her slick folds. The gasps and moans escaping her lips were sweeter than he had ever imagined, and he captured each and every one with a kiss.

Arianwyn was entirely lost in the bliss of Aemond’s touch. The feel of his hand on her breast was nothing compared to this. It felt as though there was nothing in the world but Aemond, his fingers, and this feeling of inescapable pleasure.

But then his hand moved, and while his thumb remained on that miraculous spot, he began to press the tip of his finger against her entrance.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured against her ear, “but this may hurt a little. Try to relax, and I promise it will feel good.”

She had no clue what he meant. Not until the pressure began to eclipse her pleasure. Pressure, pressure, pressure, bordering on pain. This couldn’t be right. That can’t be how this was supposed to feel. Gods, if that was just his finger, what would it feel like when he put his cock in her?

Aemond pressed harder on the center of her pleasure, drawing tight circles with the pad of his thumb. “I know, I know it hurts,” he said, “but it will hurt more if I try to enter you before you are ready.”

“You said it would feel good,” she cried, “when does that happen?”

“Soon, Aria,” he kissed her through his reassurance. “But you have to relax. Just focus on what feels good. Focus on this,” he tapped his thumb for emphasis. “If it hurts too much, tell me, and I will stop.”

She nodded into his neck, signaling him to begin again. He went slower this time, moving only when she relaxed her body when she was able. Though she squeezed her eyes shut every time he pushed deeper in, she never asked him to stop or pull out.

After mere moments and yet forever of pressure, relax, and pressure, relax, Aemond did something purely miraculous, and Arianwyn could not hold back a crying shout as she dug her nails into his back, her vision clouded with stars.

He chuckled, doing it again. Twisting – no, curling – his fingers to press gently toward her belly and again stealing her vision with the pleasure of it.

“I told you,” he teased, kissing the sensitive skin behind her ears.

“Am I ready now?” she asked, her apprehension completely vanished. How had she ever doubted him? He had always tried so hard to please her. He would not fail her now.

“Not quite, my love,” he whispered. “Give it time.”

He kissed her again. Gently. But where his lips were slow, his hand was not. He began to move faster, and her moans of pleasure returned, growing louder and louder until not even his kiss could keep her quiet.

Then, he slipped another finger inside her, never ceasing his movements, applying pressure both inside and out as she raised her hips higher and higher, arching her back into his sheets. With every passing moment, she was sure it could not feel better. But with every passing moment, it did.

The pleasure grew and grew until all she could see was the sparkling of Aemond’s sapphire eye, and her entire body pulsed with an overwhelming wave of bliss. Every muscle in her body relaxed as relief washed over her, and she laced her fingers through his silver hair to pull him in for a kiss.

“What was that?” she asked breathlessly.

He finally withdrew his fingers and pulled her against his chest. “Release.”

“Does it mean I’m ready?”

Aemond smiled against her lips, “Perhaps, but I would like to be sure.”

With that, he lowered his lips to kiss down the column of her throat, ever so gently with her cuts and bruises. He continued down her chest, between her breasts, and across the plane of her stomach until he reached her core.

Her cries resumed as he dove into her, lavishing her with his mouth and tongue. The thin leather strap holding his hair back from his face snapped as she clung to his hair, though whether to pull him closer or push him away, she did not know.

His long silver mane fell in a curtain around his shoulders, but he did not slow. Rather, his pace quickened as he plunged his tongue into her, and Arianwyn felt simply sublime. She could feel her heart beating in her core, her racing blood carrying heat throughout her body. Aemond was a fine warrior and scholar and, by all accounts, a truly gifted dragonrider, but as he ravenously drank the pleasure from her, she was sure that this was the reason the gods created him.

It was not long before she felt that great wave of pleasure, the ‘release’ as Aemond had called it, approaching again. With her hands still entangled in his hair, she clenched her fists and cried out, “Aemond!”

But then he pulled away, leaving Arianwyn feeling cold and empty, hanging over the edge of her release.

Aemond glanced up at her through a lidded eye and grinned wickedly. Then he dove back down, wrapping his lips around her clit, and moaned.

Arianwyn thought her vision would never return as the world went white and release swept through her once more, more intensely than before. She did not know how long she lay there, arms splayed and chest heaving as she recovered from the extraordinary feeling.

When the world reformed around her, it was Aemond’s grinning face she saw first as he lay on his side next to her, smiling blissfully and tracing shapes around her breasts with his pinky.

“Now, am I ready?” she asked.

Aemond hoped so, for he certainly was. He had never been so hard in all his life. “I believe you are, my love.”

He rolled on top of Aria, propping himself up on his elbows as he kissed her and ground his hips against hers, savoring the slick friction. All night, he had been so singularly focused on her pleasure that he had neglected his own.

He would gladly do so again.

Once Arianwyn was moaning against him and writhing her hips to try and draw him closer, deeper, he gave her one last kiss before he pulled away. He reached down to line himself up with her entrance but never looked away from her shining silver eyes.

“Say it again,” he breathed.

She cupped his face, fingers trembling against his skin. “Say what?”

“Say you love me.”

Her face softened, though her grip on his jaw was tight. “I love you, Aemond Targaryen.”

He slid into her then, pushing past her maidenhead in one eager stroke, sheathing himself to the hilt in the tightness of her velvet core. The feeling was all-consuming. His body cried for him to move, to fuck her with abandon and fill her with his seed. But he held himself still, knowing that he had gone too far too fast. Her eyes were still shut tight, and her lips, pressed against his cheek, were moving in mumbled speech.

Aemond had to strain to hear her whisper one phrase, over and over and over again: “Avy hylan.” I feel you.

“Avy sepār hylan,” he said as he burrowed into her neck, grounding himself in her smell of smoke and cold sea air. “Relax, Aria, just like before. I won’t do anything else until you tell me to.” I feel you, too.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him close as she continued to whisper, her words morphing into something new. “Avy jorrāelan.” I love you.

They stayed like that for long moments, even after her whispering had faded into silence.

“Aria,” Aemond moaned against her throat as his self-restraint waned.

A curious whine was her only answer.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he whispered, caressing her face, “but I need to move.”

Indeed, he trembled with the effort it took to remain still. He did not want to hurt her or cause her any more discomfort than he already had, but he could only restrain himself for so long. He could – and had – practiced in the training yard for hours without needing even a moment to catch his breath.

But this?

He did not have the strength for this.

Still, he did not move until she nodded against him. Even then, he began slowly, rocking his hips ever so slightly to ease her into the feeling.

Much to his delight, she let her head fall to the bed and began to cry out again – with pleasure, not pain. “Avy jorrāelan.”

“Avy jorrāelan,” he whispered back, letting his thrusts go deeper, longer, faster. In mere moments, he was losing himself in the sensation of her tight walls surrounding him, more wonderful than he had ever let himself imagine.

Arianwyn, too, was lost in the feeling of Aemond slamming into her over and over, faster and faster. She was sure that they were crafted by the gods specifically for each other, for this, for their joining perfectly as one.

As his pace heightened, Aemond again caught her lips in her own, claiming her just as much with his mouth as he did with his cock. The pain was gone entirely, replaced only with pleasure as he stretched her magnificently with each thrust, brushing against that magical spot inside her and sending stars bounding through her vision.

“Avy jorrāelan,” she murmured again as he began to rut into her wildly, drawing moan after moan of pleasure as the pressure in her core built higher and higher. She was not going to last much longer before her release.

But neither was Aemond, it seemed. He groaned into her mouth as the rhythm of his hips faltered. With a moan of her name, he brought his hand between them, fumbling slightly before he began stroking her as before.

Arianwyn felt absolute euphoria. Muscles she didn’t know she had tensed and relaxed as her third release of the night swept over her. Not since her first flight on Emrys had she experienced such bliss so deep in her soul, nor such exhaustion.

Aemond was still inside her, panting heavily as he came down from his high, lazily planting open-mouth kisses to the base of her neck.

“Aemond,” she whined, pulling his hair to draw his gaze back to hers. His violet eye was hazy with contentment, and the sapphire fogged by the heat of their joining.

“Mmm?”

“Do it again?”

[multific]

Haunting You

Astarion x Reader

Summary: A ghost story turned love story.

A/N: The ghost mentioned below is based on the ghost in Mama 2013 movie.

The world was filled with all sorts of creatures.

Vampires, fairies, demons, dragons, witches and ghosts.

Astarion had seen many of these creatures, killed many and fucked even more.

He would say nothing surprises him anymore.

But that would be a lie.

He never cared for haunted places.

Until one night he had to hide in one.

It was an old castle, on the verge of complete destruction and yet, something held it all together.

Magic.

It was easy to deduct, the place was filled with magic so dark, it almost made Astarion run out.

Suppose certain death wouldn't be waiting for him outside. And yet, the new blood following him didn't enter.

Maybe then knew better like he should have.

He turned to his left at the end of the corridor. He wasn't sure what made him go that way in the first place.

But he heard possibly the most blood-curdling scream of all time. It was followed by low moans and groans.

It made Astarion stop in his tracks as he looked down at the long and dark corridor. He could make out the faint line of a woman. But her body seems to be broken in more than one place.

She kept on groaning as she just stood there.

Astarion has only ever felt this fear in life. The undeniable feeling of death.

The woman kept watching Astarion and he was sure, this would be his end.

Who could have guessed a haunted castle would bring his end?

The woman raised her broken arms as if she was preparing to charge at him. And he was sure it would be quick.

He knew deep down, that this was the end. There was no way he could outrun a ghost, an angry, vengeful ghost at that. Those were the worst.

He could feel his heart in his throat as he was sure he was taking his last breaths.

"Mama." a voice startled him, making him shake as he looked at the woman who just spoke. "He is a guest. We treat guests nicely."

You stood there, to his right, slightly behind him by the window.

Your eyes fixed on the ghostly figure at the end of the hallway.

You were a witch, Astarion was sure, he had seen your kind before.

But he had never seen someone like you, someone so beautiful.

He didn't dare to look at the woman but you, he had no problem looking at you.

Your eyes soon met his.

"Apologies for her, she is rather... protective." Astarion noticed that the ghostly apparition stood right next to him, watching his every move with her eyes, eyes fixed on Astarion who was too scared to look away from you.

"Who is she?" is what he managed to say in the end.

"I would say she was a loving woman with many children before her husband turned on her and killed her. Now, she is looking for her children. She often comes by there."

"How exactly do you know that?"

"You are rather sassy for someone who I just saved from death. But she told me the story. Come, you must be hungry." you said as you turned and walked away, he followed, leaving the woman standing there.

"What would you wish to eat? Meat? Or would you rather have blood?" you asked looking at him as you guided him to your living chambers.

"You are a witch." it was a statement, not a question. You both knew exactly what the other one was.

Not like either of you was hiding it.

"And you are a vampire."

"Actually, I am an elf-vampire. So, you were only half right." Astarion wasn't even sure where his confidence came from.

But you didn't seem to mind. 

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[fictionadventurer]

Fantasy retelling of Northanger Abbey:

Innocent young Catherine Morland is overjoyed to have the chance to go to the King's City, leaving her quiet country town for a more diverse and magical metropolis.

Catherine loves reading fairy tales about the dramatic deeds of long-ago fae.

Henry Tilney is a trickster fairy prince who is jaded by a lifetime of dealing with the machinations of the fae courts. He gets amusement out of living among humans and laughing at their follies.

Catherine meets Henry and is immediately awed at his backstory and (metaphorically) enchanted by his charming personality.

For reasons unknown, Henry's father encourages Henry to romantically pursue Catherine. Henry half-heartedly goes along with it, because it's not a bad idea to stay in Dad's good graces.

And then he's shocked to find himself actually falling in love--because Catherine loves him and because she's genuinely innocent and good in a world where he thought such people didn't exist.

To everyone's surprise, Catherine gets an invite to stay at Henry's father's palace.

An actual enchanted fairy palace? How could Catherine say no?

As they're traveling there, Henry plays up all the old fairy tale tropes warning Catherine how to behave. He's joking (things haven't been like that for centuries) but Catherine still takes it to heart.

Catherine hears of the dramatic tale of the life and death of Henry's mother (perhaps a human? So Henry's actually only half-fae?). With her imagination primed by the stories she knows, Catherine starts to interpret faint "evidence" as proof that his mother's actually hidden away under a fate-worse-than-death curse, perhaps just waiting for a pure-of-heart maiden to come break the spell.

Henry catches Catherine during her quest and is amused and a bit offended. Do you know what you're saying? Maybe things like that could happen long ago and far away, but the fairies are Christianized now. Enchantments like that are far too brutal to consider.

She's right that his dad's a jerk, though.

Not long after this, Henry's dad sends Catherine away in disgrace. He had heard that Catherine was the Chosen One of a prophecy and wanted her to increase the power of his kingdom. He's shocked to learn it's not true (you mean humans can lie?), and in his anger he's harsh in sending her away.

Henry refuses to abandon Catherine and gets himself banished for refusing to give her up.

He shows up at her ordinary home and declares his love and they live happily ever after.

[beebee3832]

Sweet Fae

- Bear shifter!Price x Fairy! (fem) reader (whose wings don’t work)

- Tags: Predator/prey dynamic, fear of death, just a bit scary, building into fluff and smut (in future parts), size difference, so so so much cringe lol so be warned

- Constructive criticism is always welcome!Thanks for reading! 💗

- (Just a note, fairies in my story are just short, not super super tiny like in Tinkerbell or something.)

Sitting on the treetops was one of your favorite things these days. Instead of doing the grueling work down below, you could lie down and smell the sweet breeze of the freshly bloomed flowers.

The new season of spring was finally here so of course there was lots of work to do. Helping the animals adjust after so many weeks in hibernation was crucial. Spreading pollen to newly bloomed flowers before the bees started buzzing again brought back the forest’s vibrance after months of barren trees and harsh weather. Planting seeds was also an important task to regrow the forest’s previous lushness. Spring was the busiest time for fairies and all you wanted was for it to be over.

For the past week, you were tasked to get the pollinators up and running again. Pollinating needs the work of everyone, not just the fairies. Bees were obviously at the top of the list, so you decided to start with them, but little did you know that there would be so many to wake up.

For most of the day, that’s all you were doing, so this little break on the treetops was much needed. But you couldn’t stay up there for much longer because the darkness of night was going to soon cover the whole sky. You could already see the purple hues of dusk in the distance.

The forest became darker at night, and not just in color. Creatures that you’ve been taught to fear since childhood roam the earth and hunt anything that moves. You remember your grandmother telling you about them when you were only a little fae.

“They smell fear, little one,” she said, her voice low.

You sat on the floor where you were previously drawing on the dirt with a stick, but now you looked up at her with wide eyes as she told you tales of dangerous beings. “Who do?”

“They are not like us fairies. They are creatures who stalk the forest only after it grows dark. They make themselves look different than what they are just to fool others into their trap. They tear up the earth with their claws,” she emphasized this by raising her hands up to look like claws, “and they rip hearts open with their teeth!”

Your small wings started to tremble as she told you more about these beings. Beings that didn’t hesitate to fool fairies into thinking they were kind animals just to stuff them into their jaws as a midnight snack. Slowly, tears started to form in your eyes and you wailed, only for your grandmother to pull you to her lap and whisper comfort into your ear.

With a shake of your head, you snapped back to reality. It was not the time to be scaring yourself. Night was drawing closer and you needed to go back home soon.

“One more beehive,” you muttered to yourself. Surely you could do that before dark.

You stood up on the wobbly branch and stretched, stiff from laying down for so long. Then you braced yourself to climb down the tree, landing softly on the forest floor. You knew exactly where you were going. Left. That was where the next beehive was. Because it was late, you would just tell them that their duties should start tomorrow.

After a little while, you spotted it. You heard the soft buzzing in the distance and you almost started walking to it until you heard a low huff. You scanned your surroundings to see where it came from but all you saw was the forest growing ever darker. It must’ve been your own breath you heard, although you know you were just saying that to ward off your worries.

You padded to the hive and gave it a soft knock, knowing that if you knocked too hard, you’d surely get stung. Bees were always on high alert, even when they were still groggy from winter.

You cleared your throat. “Uh, hello. Can you hear me?” You saw a bee come out and land on your nose. You took that as a yes and smiled. “Well I won’t bother you too long. I came here to tell–” Suddenly you were interrupted by a harsh buzz that made your nose itch. The bee zipped back into its hive just as quick as it came out of it, leaving you utterly confused.

You scratch your nose a little. “Hello? Did I say something wrong?” No response. With a little huff, you decided to just leave it. It was getting late anyways. You turned around, ready to go back home when you suddenly gasped in shock.

In front you was the biggest bear you’d ever seen. Sure, all bears are big compared to fairies, but this was different. This one was well...huge. Layers and layers of deep brown fur only made it seem bigger. Its jet black eyes peered at you with an intensity that you’d never seen on another animal before. It felt like it was staring through your entire being.

Slowly, it stalked over to you and you felt yourself freeze. Not out of fear, no. More so out of...caution. The forest is your home. You’ve seen plenty of bears before. In fact, you’ve helped several of them prepare for hibernation so this sight wasn’t anything new. But something in your body kept you frozen. Maybe the stories your grandmother told you were still embedded into your subconscious.

It grew closer and closer until it stood right in front of you, making you see how much bigger it really was. You held your breath as it shoved its nose into your neck, almost knocking you over. The beast stopped at your pulse point and opened its jaws to reveal a set of razor sharp teeth. Fear bloomed in your chest, making you act on instinct. You immediately smacked the bear’s nose with a yelp, making it immediately back away.

A beat of silence ensued. A staredown between you and the bear. It’s pointed stare at your wide-eyed gaze. Before you could find out what would happen next, you bolted in the opposite direction.

The wind rushing through your hair brought you back to reality, making you realize just how late it had gotten. The full moon was out. No hues of twilight painted the sky anymore. Only the bleak darkness of night. You panicked even more. You had to go home. It was too dangerous to be out now.

You heard snarling and the rapid sound of paws chasing you down. Alarms blared in your mind. Your breaths grew heavy and fast.

Your thoughts screamed. Go!

Out of nowhere, a set of sharp claws shoved you to the ground. It was too dark to see but you knew that they had come from your right. Your back hit the forest floor with a loud thud, making your body ache all over. You tried squinting your eyes in order to see but to no avail.

You heard the sound of a loud growl from above you. You felt the beast’s drool drip down on your face.

All your fighting and thrashing proved worthless against its strength. This is it, you thought. Hopeless and trapped, you relaxed your body and allowed what was to come.

You immediately jumped up when you felt the beast get shoved off of you. The sounds of teeth gnashing and roars filled the air. Someone—or something—was assaulting the beast that once held you trapped on the ground. You took this moment to swiftly make your way out of there.

You knew this wouldn’t work but you tried it anyway. You were desperate. As you ran, you used the rest of your energy to get your wings to work. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.

You’ve seen other fairies do it your whole life. Why was it so hard for you? This could be your fastest route out of these woods and back home—where it was safe. You strained yourself harder than you ever have. Please please please this has to work.

You felt your wings quiver, hope suddenly rushing through you. C’mon just a little more!

Abruptly, your feet caught onto the brush of the forest floor, making you fall face first on the ground. You groaned in pain, this being your second time falling in the span of a couple long minutes. If only you could see. You tried to get up, but your feet were tangled in whatever they got caught in.

You were foolish to think that one more beehive was a good idea. You were foolish to think that you’d be safe in the woods so close to night. Foolish to think that you could get away. Most of all, you were foolish to even entertain the idea that you could fly out of here. You could already feel the tears fall down your cheeks. Your soft sobs echoed throughout the forest. Foolish, foolish, foolish.

Your body stiffened when you finally heard silence. The beasts weren’t fighting anymore which means one of them must have won. It would surely eat you now that there was no other competition. Your last bet was to just play dead. So you let your body go limp, waiting—praying—for the beasts of the forest to just walk past.

You almost jumped at the sound of twigs snapping in front of you. A familiar huff came from the bear, who must’ve won. Your heart beat fast in your chest, threatening to burst out of your ribcage. It nudged you with its paw and turned you over on your back. Your body tensed.

“Please,” you barely whispered. “Please don’t hurt me.” Your voice wavered through your hiccups and tears.

Unexpectedly, it lifted you up onto its back and started moving to who knows where.

Your consciousness grew dark.

. . .

The soft glow of a fire was the first thing you saw.

The cavern you were in looked like a home. There were books and a table. A fireplace and doors that you could only assume led to other rooms. There was also a subtle smell of something cooking but you didn’t know what. You were laying on a soft surface. You lifted yourself onto your elbows and saw that you were on a bed. A big one. Way bigger than the ones you would see in your town. Where were you?

You heard something come into the space you were in and you immediately pretend to be asleep—or dead. You listened closely as you heard what seemed to be bones cracking and pained grunts and then...heavy, relieved breaths. It sounded like it came from a man. A large man.

You didn’t dare open your eyes as you felt heavy footsteps stop at the edge of the bed you’ve been put in. You held your breath and forced yourself to stay limp when every bone in your body was screaming at you to run. You couldn’t run away before and you certainly couldn’t run away now.

You heard him kneel down and felt the back of his hand softly rest on your forehead for a moment, which made you suck in a harsh breath. In instinct, you sat up and slapped his hand away from you, not without a quiet gasp.

The first thing you noticed about him was his size. He was massive. A burly man with strong arms that were probably the size of your head. The next thing you noticed was his face. He had deep blue eyes and lots of facial hair. Actually, he had hair everywhere. His chest was broad and he had a healthy amount of strong fat on him. The only thing he was wearing were some shorts so you could see most of him. He was nothing like any man you knew.

You make eye contact with him once again, scared of what he was going to do to you. Who was this man? What did he want with you? Would he punish you for hitting him? Your heart quickened and you started to breathe heavier, which didn’t go unnoticed.

His eyebrows furrowed with a sympathetic expression. “It’s okay sweetheart. I’m not here to hurt you.” His kind words and baritone voice did nothing to soothe you. Actually, you were even more confused. Who is this man?

Summoning up your courage, you managed to squeak out a full sentence, despite your fear. “I want to go home.” You looked up, searching his face for some sort of approval. Any sign that he will let you go. When you found none, you felt your heart sink.

“Listen sweethea-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Listen. You’re injured and it's not safe out there. At least not now.”

You looked over your body and found deep gashes and purple bruises on the places where you fell and where the beast had knocked you down. You glanced behind you and saw that your wings had numerous cuts, probably from the branches you had to run through. He was right. You were definitely injured.

“Here,” he said as he stood up, making him even bigger in your eyes. “I made some food for you if you wanna eat it. How about you come with me and I can get you fed and fixed up.” The steadiness in his voice made it impossible to not believe him so you tried to stand up and follow his lead. What else could you do in this state?

He noticed you wince because of your various injuries so he offered a hand to help, which you silently ignored. You didn’t even give him a second glance. He can’t think you’re that needy. You can’t be seen as weak, especially not in front of a man whose intentions were still a mystery to you.

He led you to a table next to a fireplace that had a cauldron of soup cooking. You sat down on a large chair and watched him give you a bowl of his newly made meal. You weren’t planning on eating it.

He left and came back again with some ointments and bandages to heal your wounds.

“Alright I’m going to put this on you and it might hurt, okay?” You nodded and sat still—that was until you felt a searing hot pain where he put your ointment. You yelped and smacked his hand away, causing your chair to fall backwards. He caught it just in time, but not without a small smile aimed towards you.

“You’re very violent, you know that?” He playfully asked while looking back down at your wounds. You weren't feeling playful.

“Just stop it,” you said, your voice louder than you wanted it to be. His rich, blue eyes immediately snapped up to you, confused. You took a deep breath. “Just...stop. Who are you?” The question you’ve been wondering most finally came out of your mouth and you silently waited for an answer.

He looked almost nervous. “Ah, yes. My name is John. John Price.” That wasn’t a good enough answer. You suddenly stood to your feet, ignoring the soreness of your wounds.

“No, I mean, who are you? How did you find me? Wh-what are you?” You stuttered on the last question, afraid of the answer. He had no wings. He was massive and hairy and everything a fairy was not. He was silent for a moment, seemingly thinking about what he should say. The suspense was killing you.

“What am I?” He asked, incredulous, as if you should already know. “I’m just like you sweetheart.”

You shake your head. “No. No you’re not. You’re big and-and just-ugh you’re not like me! You’re not a fae like me! What are you?!” You’re shaking now. You’ve only been with fae all your life. You’ve never seen anything else. You never even knew there was anything but fae, maybe besides stories of scary creatures that roam the woods outside your town.

He slowly rose to his feet, unintentionally making you cower beneath him. “Love, I need you to calm down, alright?”

You shook your head. “No! No, I don’t know you! I-I have to go.” You frantically looked around the room to see which door might lead you out of here. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a soft glow of moonlight coming from the crack of the door on your left. Your escape. You looked back at the man who was slowly creeping up to you and you immediately fled to your escape.

Harshly, you twisted the doorknob and pulled as hard as you could. You were right; this door was your escape. The sudden rush of pain from your captor’s hand gripping your arm gave you the adrenaline you needed to become strong enough to get out of his grip. He tripped forward onto the ground and cried out,

“Wait, wait come ba–”

You paused when you heard crackling from behind. Then you glanced behind you.

You saw a horrific image of bones breaking and being put back together, of strangled yelling and of clumps of fur sprouting from skin. In just a few short seconds, there was no man anymore. In front of you was a bear. Not just any bear, but the one that almost killed you.

You screamed so loud that your throat went raw. You couldn’t move. Your body went rigid as the beast sauntered your way with a deep growl coming from its throat. That man wasn’t trying to help you. He was just playing with his food.

Just as he came within an arm’s length of you, you noticed something warm on your back. You felt that warmth rise up and hit the trees in front of you, casting them in the familiar hue of sunrise. Once the warm glow touched the beast’s face, it instantly backed away, seemingly in pain. Relief flooded in your chest.

Just as you were about to run away, you heard the familiar bone cracking and for some stupid reason, you turned around again. No beast was in front of you now. Only the same man who tried to bandage you up earlier.

He was on all fours and coughing profusely. When he looked up at you, you saw a pained look on his face. His once happy eyes were now remorseful and ashamed. When you walked closer, you saw tears form in them.

“Please,” he said, which made you jump a little. “I didn’t mean to, sweetheart. I didn’t wanna hurt you. I just wanted to protect you.”

Bullshit, you thought. The man who was just about to kill you is now begging for your forgiveness? What a joke. You should turn away now. This pathetic creature was only crying because he couldn’t eat his dinner. Turn away, your mind said.

Every bone in your body wanted to leave him in this place, but your heart hesitated.

It wasn’t often that you saw a man cry like that. You weren’t even sure if he was a man. No, this was a beast. A beast who tried to kill you, your thoughts cried. However, despite that, you felt some twisted sympathy for him. Your head was telling you that he was dangerous, but your heart knew better. For some reason, you decided to trust your heart.

You slowly walked over to stand over him. He looked at you with wet and pleading eyes. Your chest ached.

“Stand up.”

He rose immediately, unintentionally reminding you of his towering figure.

Feeling your heart race, you raise your hands to his face, hesitating for just a second before cupping his tear stained cheeks. He didn’t even flinch, in fact, he let out a soft sigh as he slightly leaned into your touch. This close, you could smell his musky scent. He smelled of forests and something smoky. For some reason, it calmed you just a bit.

You two stayed in this same position for quite some time, your thumbs soothingly swiping his leftover tears to his hairy cheeks. He didn’t say a word. He just let you study him. He let you study his deep blue eyes, his dark brows, his nose, his slightly rough facial hair, everything.

A rustle in bushes close to you snapped you out of your trance. You quickly turned your head but a large hand cupped your face, turning your head back to the beast.

He smiled a warm smile, one that made you almost melt. “Just a squirrel, sweetheart,” he murmured. Such a soft tone coming from a beast surprised you.

“Right,” you muttered, your gaze focusing back onto him. “I, uh,” you coughed a bit, “I suppose I should leave now.” His eyes saddened a bit, making your heart clench for some reason.

“I suppose you should,” he said as he almost reluctantly backed away from you.

You turned around, ready to leave when he said something you didn’t quite hear. “What was that?”

You heard him clear his throat. “Will you come back?” Will you? Should you?

You walked away without answering, but somehow you knew this wasn’t the final time you would see him.

[glassrowboat]

Cinderella. Pantalone.

Summary: You didn't mean to be stranded out on the steps to the palace with a broken shoe, but some things are more like a fairy tale than one would think. It's only a shame your prince charming is a fucking dick.

Warnings: an exuberant amount of cussing, mentions of death, and the upperclass

Word count: 2500+

The sound of shoes clacking on the pavement was the first sign you were no longer as alone as once thought. A solid click, the pristine shine of black leather, and a silver buckle that somehow shined even in the cold night air when the brightest light near you was a streetlamp at most ten feet away. The fact there wasn't a very particular someone's insignia ingrained in that black already felt like a miracle given the man's pride. He did so love to adorn himself in finery.

“Regrator.”

“Miss (y/n), a pleasure as always.” He didn't even pretend to not notice your current state, his eyes might as well be full of mirth as he gazed down at you sitting on the steps leading up to a cursed banquet you had to attend. The event was already in full swing yet here you sat outside as if the clamor of voices and music playing couldn't be heard. “I hope you have not gotten yourself into another problem.”

Teasing now, of all times, really?

It was already fully evident he knew what was going on, how could he not? A shoe in your hand a broken off heel in the other made it clear there was in fact a problem. The contraption had wronged her. “I think it's rather obvious, is it not? Or do you need a new prescription for those glasses of yours?”

He didn't even bother to give an interesting reply back as he simply laughed off the jab like it was water on a ducks back. Something that wasn't event relevant enough to be addressed. “I see now, that does appear to be a problem.”

Wow. I had no fucking clue.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance to you?” His voice was musing as ever, too gentle to be real. Just the same way he acts in the middle of a business deal.

“Oh?” You looked up at him, eyes tearing off those shiny shoes you were admittedly jealous of in this moment. Any other day you might just consider spitting on them but circumstances have changed. “Tell me trousers, for amusements sake only, what could you possibly do to help me in this hour of need? Maybe you'd do the same thing Scaramouche did as he passed me by only minutes prior, telling me to walk barefoot in the snow.”

“Oh my, it would be a mad man who would dare try.” At least he understood that compared to the puppe- “Back to calling me trousers now, miss? I thought we grew past that.”

“Maybe you did.” If only the poison on your tongue was enough to sway him enough to slip off a step and fall past the railing with a nice, satisfying kurplunk. “Well seeing as my night is perfectly ruined, how has yours been going?”

"Oh, not too bad myself I must say." Pantalone's voice was calm and smooth as usual, as if nothing really affected him much. "I've been attending to a few important matters as part of my responsibilities, but now I have some free time to spend. I suppose I may have found something to do with it now."

How annoyingly easy it was for him to lie, to show no tell at all. No pinch in the eyebrow, no change in tone, not even looking else where to avoid eye contact. Truly a professional. If it weren't for the fact you had personally seen Pantalone repeatedly having to brush off the same man with a rather boring sounding business proposal you would have truly believed him. His irritation had been clear then even as that smile remained. What a talent to have, to lie easier than he breathed.

Slowly, steadily Pantalone made his was down the stairs you sat upon until he was stood before you. A kind face to be shown as he looked down at the object of your plight. “It's a rather pretty pair of shoes. A pity one of them has been torn apart. Do you think we can find you another pair in a store nearby?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I'll pass.”

It would be a fool who agrees to be in debt to the regrator, a favor or otherwise.

One of his perfectly manicured eyebrows rose as he looked down at you, almost like he was shocked at the rejection to his offer. The amusement however was clear in his face. "Is something the matter? It would be unfortunate to stay here barefoot in the cold. Though I can't say I didn't expect that answer. You are quite the character.”

“Says you. How great a character you are that your very own name is ripped from a play.”

You weren't even honored with a reply. You never are. 

“Do you live nearby, miss?”

“Yeah. Maybe like ten minutes down that street,” you pointed to the left, finger blocking one of the many piles of snow on the street. “Then you- Close. I'm close by.”

Why the fuck was I telling him this?

“I see.” 

With the wave of a hand covered in what had to be the finest of fabrics for gloves (probably something that's been hand spun by poor widows for years as they labor over raw cotton) and glittering silver Pantalone called over an attendant. Her short frame quickly moving over like she felt the need to be as efficient as possible. As to why? Well, the answer is obvious. You don't defy a harbinger. You don't deny them. You can only hope to please the over hyped power houses of Snezhaya, especially if one of them is your boss. 

“You are far too easy to easy to read, miss (y/n).” Without so much as a glance towards this woman's way he takes something from her hand. A little bottle of sorts you can't read the label of with a red cap. That is until he moves his bejeweled fingers away to give you a chance to peek at the words printed out. “One day your pride will be the end of you.”

And I hope your end will be just as pathetic as you.

Huffing you try and ignore the savior that he's holding in his hand. Shoe glue, just what you need. “Why do you even have that?”

Not even bothering to address you Pantalone tells the attendant she's excused. The same rush as when she ran over showing as she bowed to you both. “Lord harbinger. Miss (y/n).” 

And there she goes.

“Cmon slacks, gimme something I can reply to that isn't your typical droning. Otherwise I might just start mistaking your voice for those inside.” The same chatter that might as well be ringing on your ear as it grows louder and louder throughout the night. Alcohol may loosen lips, but it also apparently makes everyone too deaf to hear properly. If either of you were to go back inside surely you'd be cringing everytime someone walks by as they think it's a great idea to address someone all the way across the great hall.

“I bore you as much as ever then.” With a chuckle Pantalone holds the bottle out before you, dangling it like bait on a string, and you were the fish he was waiting for to take a bite. Warning label flashing your vision. “I could tell you how La Signora once broke her heel and simply combusted with fury. Though that wouldn't be true, she wouldn't be caught dead wearing something cheap enough to break just like that.”

Always has to have a smart reply, doesn't he? All the while you're running low on quips as this guy proves his default setting is exhausting everyone around him. The charming man one might mistake him as with a simple glance was truly such a farce. “Thanks, but I'd rather rip the boots off of some poor, unsuspecting sod then let you do something for me.”

With a click of his tongue Pantalone pulls the bottle back away from you, the shining light of hope that it was being stolen like the donations from an alms box under the nose of a priest. “Ahh yes, the fear of owing the ninth harbinger. It is a daunting cloud to loom so heavily.”

Of course it was. He may sound and look as pretty as a picture but under those silver spectacles were eyes that could only be satisfied with the sight of mora in his palm. Those that denied him such a sight had a habit of going home to a few broken objects, being randomly beaten down out of the blue on their merry way back home, and lastly disappearing in the same way your clouds of breath blown out into the cold air of the blizzard covered nation did. There was no god to pray to that could help escape him, no matter which archons name uttered.

“How about I offer you a deal,” Pantalone asked, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. It was as if the very mention of any sort of ‘business’ had him rearing to go. Cocky bastard.

It's just a shame you had nothing to say. Another comment would have this back and forth going until either a: you get interrupted by one of the guests, b: he decides toying with you has lost its charm (an unlikely event but still one can dream), and lastly c: you bite the bullet and make a ten minute walk home in a broken shoe through snowy and icy streets you'd surely be slipping and sliding over. A face plant or two might just be worth it though.

“No objections then. As for our deal, I shall assist this damsel in distress with fixing her shoe and in turn you tell no one of this.” As if he was already certain you'd agree in a heartbeat, probably in his minds even with stars glittering around you like a scene from a shojo manga panel, Pantalone plucked the broken shoe and heel from your hands. “I'd say you would be getting the better end of the deal here tonight. You do need to get home, don't you?”

I do, and he knows that. Prick.

 “Fine. Deal or whatever.”

The fact he didn't immediately pull out a five page contract on the spot was disappointing. Unlikely, but the thought alone would be enough to cause you to laugh if it was anyone else's presence you were in. Instead you sat back on those concrete stairs, watching as the regrator of all people slipped off his rings and placed them to the side. Doesn't want his precious getting dirty then, huh?

“So what's the real reason you have that stuff on you?”

“You truly do believe every word that slips past my lips is a lie,” He stated. Stated, not questioned. “I have found myself working in collaboration with a cobbler recently and I was given this as a free sample of sorts. You were simply lucky with the timing is all.”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked down at him, his gloved hand holding that stupid little bottle in hand as he seems to run over the nails that were supposed to keep the outsole together with ease. He seemed so calm doing this but it could all just be another facade, another act. Only he, himself, and Pantalone knew what was truly going on in that pretty head of his. “I wouldn't call breaking my shoe luck.”

“Perhaps not.” 

“I never asked, just how did that attendant magically have that on hand with a wave of your- well hand.” That could of been worded a bit better. Cmon self, you're slacking here.

“Oh that? I heard of your little plight when I was inside. A noble lady with a mole over her lip, the left side, mentioned a poor miss (y/n) having tripped over her own two feet like a buffoon who then,” without missing a beat as he spoke Pantalone kneeled before you, “ran off as if a headless chicken.” 

“Lovely imagery, slacks. Thank you for that.”

“I am merely repeating what I have heard for you. I wouldn't want you to go unaware of what your fellow ladies have been gossiping about this night.”

And in doing so you purposefully worded it in a way that had the intent to embarrass me. I'm not blind nor deaf but somehow he surely thinks I am both.

“Now then.” Easily he pulled you from your thoughts. Daydreaming cast aside and asunder as his hand wrapped around your ankle. The instant jolt from the movement you were spurred into meaning little as his grip tightened, not even allowing an inch of freedom. “Give the heel some time before you start walking on it, we don't need to disturb the banquet with your dramatics again.”

A part of you wanted to believe Pantalone's hand didn't feel warm because they're just as cold and dead as his heart, but the gloves he dawned and the thermal stockings you used religiously in this winter inferno were enough to say you were just being hopeful. It was better to focus on that little fact than how he was sliding that stiletto on for you. The fact he wasn't looking at your eyes could either be a blessing or make this all worse. In the very least it gave you a chance to figure out that blaming the color burning your cheeks a rosy hue on the low temperatures could be a solid enough lie he wouldn't openly question your bull. 

“Now if you'll excuse me,” Pantalone said, calling your attention back up to his face and not the hand that had just let go of you. “It's about time I head back inside.”

Somehow there wasn't even a speck of dust on his knees as Pantalone stands back up, his perfect little demeanor the same as always without even a wrinkle to be had. Untouchable. Far off from everyone else around him. “I'm sure the Tsarita's little socialite has been missed.”

With a small laugh and a “precisely,” Pantalone steps around you, those same perfect condition having shoes of his hitting the steps with a satisfying click as he walked away. At least this time you weren't gazing upon them with envy. “Remember now miss, no going around gossiping about this.”

As if I'd ever.

“The less your name falls from my lips the better. You do so tend to leave a narly aftertaste. Plus, I have no intention of owing you anything.”

With one last flick of his gaze, one last shine of those spectacles under the streetlamp he looks at you. How unreadable that mask could be when he truly wished it. Maybe it's true what they say, once you wear a mask too long it becomes your face. 

“Have a good night then.”

And with that, he left. The night air your only company.

Good riddance.

—-------

Except now your looking down at a pink box that had been delivered to your house this morning, only a day having gone by since that unlucky encounter with the regrator yet he chose to rub this all in your face. A stink bug of a man, truly. Only there to be a pest that's always somehow present yet you shouldn't bother to do away with. After all, there would be consequences. 

So like any bug he crawled through the cracks of what is supposed to be your home. All with the ease of one delivery man and a letter with the most beautiful handwriting you had ever seen (and annoyingly written in what had to be scented ink). “I believe this means you now owe me a favor.” Signed Pantalone.

How you wanted to spit on the brand new pair of heels before you.

What a dick.

[jeankluv]

A fairy song - Utahime Iori

summary: On one of your hunting days, a melodious voice guides you through the forest until you come across the beautiful presence of a fairy with big hazel eyes and black hair.

paring: Utahime x fem!reader

tags: +18, angst, injuries, Utahime is a fairy, reader is a human, scars, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut, oral sex (f), cuddles, nipple play

notes: How are we feeling with the jjk ending announcement? I’m honestly pretty sad ngl, I loved this series so much.

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3

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You had gone out hunting, it was a hot day, your clothes stuck to your skin as you walked through the path that led to the forest. Luckily there you would find food to take home and freshness.

As soon as you entered the forest you felt the shadow and the soft breeze that filtered through the trees, you let yourself be carried away by that breeze that almost seemed like a soft song that called you.

Your boots creaked against the floor and your gaze observed every corner of that place, while you were still following the melody that became more and more vivid with each step.

The sound of a river mixed with the melody that you assumed was the river that ran through that forest, it was then when yoi saw her. She was beautiful, almost unreal. Her black hair trailed down her back and across her breasts, subtly covering them. Two wings came out of her back, they were large and reflected the light in an almost blinding way. She hadn't been able to look at her face yet, but you knew it would be just as beautiful as her voice.

You moved your foot, looking for a better position for her, but a branch broke under your weight, causing the young fairy to panic and turn her head to look in your direction.

The fairy hazel eyes opened wildly, stepping down from the rock where she was sitting at and covering herself with her hands and long hair.

You studied her face, she was so beautiful, breathtaking. But you also noticed the scar crossing her face.

It didn't take you too long to connect the dots, her terrified look and her scar on her face could only mean one thing and that was that that fairy had encountered some humans, who had not been kind.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You said.

But she didn’t trust your words and took a step back, getting near the other side of the river.

“Stay away.” She said from the distance.

You stood still, trying to convince her that you were not dangerous. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“All humans do is lie.” She said, holding her dress between her hands. “If you say you are not going to hurt me, then turn around.”

“I… okay.” You turned around looking at the forest and waited for her to say something. “I was just here looking for something to eat.” You started talking. “And I heard you singing, you have a beautiful voice.”

She didn’t respond and the minutes started to pass and finally you turned your head slightly, finding that you were left alone, that that beautiful fairy was gone.

You couldn’t blame her, if your suspicions were right the last thing she wanted was to be with a human. You sighed and you crouched down by the river to drink water in your canteen, the sun was shining brightly in the sky and you still had not gotten any animals to take home.

You turned and began to walk in search of some food, normally you had a good eye, you caught a prey right away but that day your mind seemed to be somewhere else. Your mind kept remembering the soft melody of that fairy. You had been left wanting to ask her name and find out more about her.

After a few minutes searching in the forest you managed to catch a small hare, it wasn't much, but at least you were going to be able to eat for a few days, ever since your older brother passed away, it was just you.

With the hare on your back, you prepared to leave the forest, the sun had gone down and it had become too late for your liking.

“Do you think they will pay us more if we bring her alive or death?” You heard not far away from him.

“Alive, but you idiot decided to shoot an arrow at her.” You heard another voice.

You moved stealthily through the bushes until he reached where two robust men were standing. They had their backs to you and were both equipped with a sword and bow and arrows.

“Well let’s hope she doesn’t bleed to death then.” The shorter of the two said under his breath.

And you frowned, looking with your eyes to see what they were talking about. Your heart turned upside down when you saw the fairy you met hours before on the floor and tied, while bleeding from one of her legs.

Your jaw and fists clenched and you began to see red. Taking a deep breath, you stepped out from where you had been watching both men.

“Hey!” Both of them turned to look at you. “What are you doing?”

Both men looked at each other and laughed. “Oh another pretty girl, don’t tell me, you are also a fairy? Should we sell you too?” The taller one laughed and you felt sick.

You drew the tallest man's sword, cutting off his hand that was still close to him. A sharp cry came from his throat and you fixed your gaze on the other man.

“You will pay for that bitch!” The other one shouted and he drew his sword to attack you, who easily dodged it and attacked him.

You stabbed the sword into his shoulder, enough to make him suffer but not enough to kill him. You didn't like that, killing people, but you knew that you had to hurt them enough so that they wouldn't return to that place and that they would lose all desire to do what they were doing.

“We will leave!” One of them shouted.

You looked at them. “You better do it and I hope I don’t see you ever again around here or anywhere.”

The tone you had used was abrupt and imposing. You could see in the looks of both of them that they were scared and that they would not come back. Like a scared dog with its tail between its legs, they both ran out of there.

The swore on your hand then felt heavy and you dropped it against the red-dyed grass. You quickly approached the fairy, who was pale and had beads of sweat falling down her face.

“Hey…” You whispered as softly as you could. “I will take you somewhere to treat you, okay?” She didn’t respond but you knew she was conscious. “Just stay awake a little bit more okay?”

Fortunately for you, she was smaller than you, so carrying her to your house wasn’t going to be a problem. At that moment you were grateful that your father had taught you swordsmanship and that you knew how to fight, despite being a girl. Otherwise you would probably be dead by now and her, well she would probably be sold on the magical beings market and would be taken to the highest bidder.

You shook those thoughts away from your head, trying not to think about the possibilities of what could have happened and focused your full attention on taking her safely to your house.

The sun was low in the sky when you reached the front door of your family house. Not letting her body go, you opened the door with your foot, making the sound of the old door cross the whole empty house.

Giving a quick glance to the fairy, making sure she was still breathing. Your body relaxed when you saw she was still alive. Tightening your grip on her waist, you moved through the house until you reached your room and carefully placed her on the bed. You sighed as you pulled away from her and looked at her, her face was wet and pale.

The piece of cloth you had tied around her leg to stop the bleeding was completely soaked. You needed to close the wound.

You left the room in a rush and started searching for a needle and thread. When you had what you needed you stood next to the bed and without wanting to hurt her you removed the cloth from her leg. With the greatest care and your clumsy skills you sewed the wound. You would take her to a healer, but you knew what it meant to expose a fairy, the risks that it entailed especially for her.

You let yourself fall when the wound was completely healed and sighed in relief. Now you just hoped that she would survive the night. With wet cloths you tried to lower her temperature.

The sun had set when you sat down on a chair next to the bed earlier, you would spend the night next to her to make sure nothing bad happened to her. The room was lit by the flickering candlelight and allowed you to see the beautiful face of that nameless fairy. Looking at her profile you fell asleep.

You didn’t wake up again until the rays of sun hit you right in the eyes. Squeezing your eyes shut and opening them gently, you looked around until you finally met the frightened gaze of the fairy, who was looking at you from the bed and covering her body with the sheet. Surprised, you stood up and approached the bed, but when you saw her gripping the sheet tighter, you stopped.

She was scared.

“It’s okay…” You said with the softest voice. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She didn’t respond. “My name is…” You told her your name, trying to gain a bit of trust from her.

She still didn’t move, and she looked at you with so much fear. You tried to breathe and think of something so you could get her to trust you.

“It’s your wound alright?” You asked her. “I’m not an expert healer, so I did what I could.”

She gently lifted the sheet and looked at her leg. When her hazel eyes met yours again, she nodded and you sighed in relief.

“That’s good…” You walked towards the door. “I will get breakfast for us, wait for me.” You smiled at her.

You walked out of the room and slapped your face, what was wrong with you? You had felt extremely nervous when he looked at you with those eyes.

“Ugh! I’m going crazy.” You muttered and walked to the kitchen.

When you returned to your room, with breakfast already prepared, you found the fairy sitting in front of the window, looking out over the green plain that stretched to the horizon.

“It’s a nice view right?” You said and she looked at you with surprise. “Oh… sorry…” Embarrassed, you walked to the bed. “I don’t know what you usually eat, so I brought different things…”

You said showing her the tray. She looked at you and then at the tray, she carefully got up from the chair where she was and approached you curiously. She didn't seem so scared anymore.

“Thank you…” She whispered and your heart skipped a bit when you heard her soft tone again.

“Oh…” Yourself started to warm up again and your heart beat faster.

“Utahime…” She said picking up a cherry.

“Huh?” You looked at her confused.

“My name is Utahime.” She smiled and you felt like melting under that smile.

“Oh…” You started to play with your hands. “That’s a really pretty name… does it mean something.”

She nodded as she licked her lips, her lips so red and… what the fuck were you thinking? “It means “song princess””

“Oh that’s… a beautiful name.” You said. “I mean you are pretty so it’s logical for you to have a pretty name.” You said without thinking much about it. “I… wait! Sorry… that’s…”

You heard her laugh and once again felt weak. “Thank you…” She whispered your name and you swore you could drop to your knees right there and gave her your whole soul and heart.

“Yeah…” You chuckled nervously. “Eat as much as you want.”

Utahime took more fruit and, closing her eyes, savored each of the pieces you had brought her. You watched her in silence, feeling how she had relaxed in your presence and how the hint of fear you had seen at the beginning was no longer there.

“You are not scared anymore?” You asked her hesitantly.

She shook her head. “No. Your aura is not scary or doesn’t hold any bad intentions behind, so I’m okay.”

“You can see people’s auras?” You said surprise.

She giggled and you looked away, she couldn’t be that beautiful. “We do.”

With your heart pounding in your chest, you followed her along as she ate the fruits and made small sounds of joy that warmed your heart. When you left the room, Utahime was quick to appear behind you, watching your movements.

Her presence alone illuminated your entire home, her translucent wings with a pink undertone, letting the sunlight through, forming beautiful patterns on the wooden floor.

The day passed quietly, you were able to discover more about Utahime. Apparently she lived in the forest with her family, since it was the safest place to escape from humans. But it wasn't always safe, as you had already been able to see. She also told you that the scar that crossed her face had been made when she was 14 years old, a fairy with some imperfection was worth less and in a desperate act Utahime did just that. Your blood boiled when the story came out of Utahime's mouth, how could such despicable beings exist.

“But it’s okay…” She touched your skin. “You saved me this time.”

You weren't aware of it, but you were starting to fall for that hazel-eyed fairy.

The days started to pass, weeks and before you could realize Utahime had been living with you for a month. She accompanied you to the market, with your dresses and a cloak that covered her wings, she helped you with your chores and told you stories. But something you had noticed or felt the sensation of, was that the home that had become cold and gray after the death of your parents had taken on a bright, warm, golden color.

And you knew why it was, Utahime started to lit up your life as soon as she gave you the first smile. Everything in you had changed with that smile and that look.

Your heart too because now was beating for someone.

Your name resonated on the room and you turned to look. “Look! I made this!” Utahime approached you with a smile, showing you the scarf she had knitted. “I made it for you.” She put it on you. “So you won’t be cold in the winter.”

Her hand rested on your chest and you wanted to stop breathing, for fear that Utahime would notice your racing heart. “Utahime…”

“Yes?” She looked at you.

“I…” What were you about to do? You surely lost your mind right? “I… I like you.”

You closed your eyes and took a step back, causing Utahime's hand to fall to her side. You were afraid to open your eyes, would he be looking at you with disgust? With fear? With contempt? Oh you were terrified of finding out, so you decided to be a coward and leave the house, leaving Utahime completely alone.

You walked away of the house, holding tightly to your old dress and trying to calm down your nerves.

You knew you had screwed up everything and that when you returned, Utahime would no longer be there. The house would be lonely, cold and grey again. Your life would be the same again, its warmth would disappear because you had decided to open your mouth.

The sun wasn’t in the sky anymore when you returned home. And it was dark, completely dark when you stepped inside. You swallowed the urge to cry and walked to the kitchen, where you lit a candle and walked to your room. Your eyes widened as you found Utahime's figure on the bed, a smile on her face.

“You came!” She said and walked towards you and took your hand to guide you to the bed. “I was really worried, you left.” She pouted.

“You…” You wanted to ask her so many things.

Why are you here? I thought you were going to leave. I fucked up.

But the words didn’t come out of your throat and you could only scan her face. Her eyes looked at you with a mix of concern and anticipation.

Utahime’s face was only lit up by the candle light but you could clearly see her. Her eyes, her nose and… her lips. Those lips you have been dying to taste, to savor and know if they tasted the way you imagined them.

“Do it…” She whispered and you locked your eyes with hers again. “I know you want to kiss me… I want it too.”

You swallowed and carefully connected your lips on a gentle kiss. Your trembling hand tangled in her long black hair and squeezing her head accentuated the kiss. She tasted like strawberries, blackberries, and cherries. God Utahime tasted so fucking good.

You pulled away from her when you both ran out of air and looked at each other, her cheeks were flushed and her lips were completely swollen from the kiss.

Utahime’s eyes darkened with desire. “More.” She said without hesitation.

You didn’t need her to tell you twice. You captured her lips again, but this time the kiss was anything but gentle. It was fervent, hungry. Your hands roamed over her body, feeling the heat of her skin through the fabric of her clothes, as hers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, deeper into the kiss.

A soft moan escaped her lips as you gently bit her bottom lip, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine, causing the hairs on your body to stand on end. You pressed her back into the bed, your body pressed against hers, your hands exploring every inch of her they could reach.

Her hands were just as eager, sliding down your back and pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. She arched into you, her body responding to your touch in ways that made your blood boil. The sweet taste of her lingered on your tongue, and you couldn’t get enough, couldn’t help but want more.

“God, you feel so good.” You murmured against her lips. You trailed kisses, from her jaw to her breasts. Every gasp, every shudder of pleasure that escaped her lips only fueled your need, pushing you to explore further.

She whispered your name, a plea that was barely coherent, and it sent a jolt of electricity through you. You responded by sliding your hands beneath her silk dress, feeling the heat of her bare skin against your palms. The soft gasp that followed was all the encouragement you needed. You pushed the fabric higher with both hands.

As your lips trailed down to the newly exposed skin, she tugged at your clothing, eager to feel more of you, to take you to the same hell that was consuming her. Your thumb caressed her underwear fabric and Utahime tightened her grip on your shoulders.

“Don’t stop.” She sighed.

You had no intention of stopping. You smirked and lowering yourself, took her underwear off. Scanning her face you started to eat her out. Her lips started sucking Utahime’s clit as your free hand, who was not playing with her nipple, started going in and out of her pretty pussy.

Utahime’s back arched herself, seeking your pleasure and your warmth. Her lust was invading you and you just let yourself go, savoring her, enjoying her burning heat and her intimacy.

Her lips could only repeat your name and that only made you want to devour her more. Consume her. Your heart was pounding strongly in your chest and your movements were firm and with a clear intention, to make her yours.

Her legs rose and her body began to shake, a symbol that her orgasm was about to explode. Closing your eyes, you concentrated on her coming, on her enjoying herself and on being able to touch the sky with her fingers.

“Oh…” She mumbled as her hands placed over your head.

You keep on sucking until her loud scream and cum indicated you that she has reached her climax. You smiled separating yourself from her pussy and licked your lips while looking at her messy figure.

“You should sleep…” You laid down next to her.

“But what about you?” She whispered, still shaky.

“It’s okay…”

You wanted to say that maybe in another time she could be the one to start and that you could have more fun, but you were still unsure where your relationship was. You confessed your feelings but she… she didn’t and now, you shared a moment of intimacy like that.

“Well… next time let me make you feel good too.” She laid over her chest and her beautiful wings shined in the night.

“You… you want more?” You murmured.

She nodded and locked your fingers together. “I do… I… I love you too.” She smiled and your world stopped moving. “You okay?” She tilted her head.

“Yeah! Yeah.” You smiled and touched her cheek. “I love you too, my song princess.” She giggled and kissed your lips. “Could you sing me the song that you were singing that day? When we met.”

“Sure…” She started to hum the familiar song.

The song that guided you across that forest till where she was, your beautiful fairy.

“What is about?” You whispered as you played with her black hair.

“About finding your destined one.” She smiled and you smiled back.

You truly felt like you had found your destined person, all because you followed her beautiful voice into that forest.

[himeryu]

Novels 02 (Kamisato Ayato x Reader)

CH NOTES: arranged marriage, emotional cheating, neglect, unhealthy relationship, sad ending, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, slight ooc

PAIRING: Ayato x GN!Reader (Fem terms might be used accidentally)

SUMMARY: Ayato x Fiance! Reader but you’re a hopeless romantic to your fiance who is in love with another.

A/N: inspired by Movies by Conan Gray

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I. “Why do you keep avoiding Yuki?” Ayato says with contempt, making you flinch at the tone of his voice. Kamisato Ayato is angry, all because of her. Your heart drops at the thought, yet you can’t help but feel a surge of negative emotions. Recently there have been rumors circulating about Kamisato Ayato and Kaedahara Yuki: rumors of Infidelity. 

You heard of the rumors accidentally during a social party. Before the mask came crashing down, Kamisato Ayato would clarify every rumor regarding the commission. However, despite hearing the distasteful rumor in-person, he stayed still, deciding to stay ignorant. 

You stood still as you stared at him in disbelief. Thoughts of questions about his purpose and why he is feigning ignorance circulate in your head. You felt ill, those rumors would damage his and your reputation, something that you both hold dear. But, he stood still, almost like he was enjoying the rumors. 

Why? why? WHY?

That was until everything came into place. You snapped your head away from his figure, painfully smiling to yourself as you finally understood why he was feigning ignorance. The gossipers would continue till Lady Kaedahara Yuki would personally tell them that it isn’t true. Curiously, you glanced at the commissioner, and oh how you would regret doing that. 

His smile was forced, and his gaze held a bit of disappointment. You stare at him in disbelief, your heart shattering even more. God, Kamisato Ayato broke your heart once more, what did you do to deserve this? 

But, you can’t help but laugh at the irony.

You and Kamisato Ayato have one thing in common: you both enjoy your delusions of being loved by the person you wish they hold you dear. 

Kamisato Ayato’s love for Kaedahara Yuki is unrequited. 

“[Name], I asked you a question,” says Ayato, snapping you back to reality. 

“Ah. I’m sorry, I was just lost in thought,” you continue, putting on a small smile to hide your thoughts, “What did you say?”

“Why do you keep avoiding Yuki?”

God, he says her name with so much endearment it’s making you want to cry. 

“Oh? I have never avoided Lady Yuki,” you reply with a smile. 

It’s a lie, of course. You have been avoiding the former Kaedahara heir ever since her return to Inazuma. Though, it isn’t exactly avoiding, it is more like not meeting her unless needed. Furthermore, you and Kaedahara Yuki have not been acquainted before, so there was no reason to greet her. 

However, the truth is, you can’t face her— your fiance's one-sided crush. She’s beautiful, charismatic and a person blessed by God, everything that you are not. 

You fear that one day, jealousy would taint your mind and only her highness, the shogun, would know what you would do. After all, jealousy is a deadly disease that taints both the mind and heart, a disease that could only be cured by love. But, you don’t have that luxury, do you?

Ayato sighs with frustration as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Whatever you say,” he dismisses your defense, “Don’t make her feel bad ever again.”

And so, he leaves, leaving you once more once again.

II. As a child, you have always dreamed of a grand wedding. You, standing side by side with your lover as they look at you with a loving expression as you swear your love in front of all your friends and family; And the wedding garment of your dreams adorning your body, making you radiate like you bathed in fairy dust. 

The grand wedding of your dreams should be the day you would only feel happiness, and nothing else. 

So, you await for the day that someone would give you the wedding of your dreams, someone who would give you the world just because you asked for it. And the day you met your fiance, you believed that he would be the one to do so.

Yet impressions are different from their true human nature. The impressions you perceive from people are nothing but ideas you created in your head to fill in the lack of information you have regarding that person. The impressions you formed would then form a mask that would cunningly cover your judgment towards that person, staying ignorant to his ‘true’ nature. 

Kamisato Ayato’s ‘mask’ was never there, your perception of people was just too naive and immature to handle a cunning man like the commissioner; it could not perceive Kamisato Ayato’s ‘true’ nature. But, who are you to blame? That man is cunning like a snake, crawling onto your skin as it makes you succumb to naivety. Therefore, you got yourself fooled and your hopes went up all because of your naivety and ignorance; Your impression on that man ruined your life.

Your dream wedding shattered in an instance, and your dreams for a happy future disappeared. Life has never been a rosy path with Archons smiling down at you as you obtain your happiness– so your experience is only natural, right? 

‘This is reality,’ you would say to yourself, trying to cope with your indescribable distress, ‘Life should be nothing like the novels I’ve read.’ 

Your love for reading starts to dissipate, replaced with a sense of hatred. You hate reading, it was the reason why you were so naive, so caught up with the illusions that you ruined your perception towards people.

You can’t do this anymore, you can’t star in a play you didn’t want to be in. 

You have to leave, you need to. 

You would rather die than spend the rest of your life chained towards someone who sees you as a nuisance in his unrequited love. 

But, How?

How can you, a sheltered child who only knows how to drown themselves in fantasies, run away from your family, friends…

Ayato?

You pitifully laugh at yourself, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. 

You’re pathetic.  

You need to change. 

III. “I’m worried about Master [Surname],” Ayaka confesses with her head down. Ever since the Irodori festival, she has seen less and less of her future in-law which makes her worried. Kamisato Ayaka adores you, much to her brother’s surprise. The two would usually converse over tea about the latest release from Yae’s Publishing House, laughing and joking around about how the latest chapter was out of your expectations. 

Kaedahara Yuki listens to the younger Kamisato intently. Truth be told, she is curious about Kamisato Ayato’s, her childhood friend, Fiance, after all, she has never conversed with the aristocrat. Furthermore, you would be wed into a family that she considers her own, so who could blame her? Though, she has heard of you from a distance: the high-ranking aristocrat from the prestigious [Surname] family who is known to be collected and benevolent, delicate like a flower on top of a lake. 

Every time she asks Kamisato Ayato about his fiance, he would brush it off and discuss their childhood memories, dismissing her curiosity. She would press Kamisato Ayato for details about his fiance, even begging him to introduce her to her. But as usual, Kamisato Ayato would dismiss her attempts, making her feel down. 

But, if the oldest Kamisato can’t give her any information, shouldn't she ask from the youngest?

“I haven’t seen Master [Surname] since the Irodori Festival and it is making me worried,” Ayaka sighs, her expression down. 

“Have you tried contacting them?”

“I did try to request an audience with them, but the servants said that they wish to be alone,” Ayaka pouts. “Have you ever seen them, Lady Yuki?”

Kaedahara Yuki blushes in embarrassment, “Oh Ayaka. Please don’t use ‘Lady’ to me anymore. I am no longer part of nobility.”

Ayaka giggles. 

And so, Kamisato Ayaka stops talking about you.

Kaedahara Yuki isn’t cunning, so she does not press the youngest Kamisato anymore answers despite her curiosity; Though, if it was Ayato, she would continue to demand answers till her throat sores. 

However, if an opportunity ever occurs where she could meet you, she would grasp that opportunity immediately, paying no mind to the effects it has on others.

IV. “Aren’t you Master [Surname]?” ask Kaedahara Kazuha as you nervously avoid his gaze.

Oh fuck.

You messed up. 

For the first time, you decided to take a stroll on the streets of Inazuma late at night alone. You know this is a stupid decision, especially for someone as high as yourself. However, you needed a breather, and your family estate started to feel suffocating, so your only plan is to take a stroll alone. You knew your parents wouldn’t allow you to walk around the streets of Inazuma at night, especially without an escort, so sneaking out was only the option.

So, you hatched your plan. Though it was your first time sneaking out, you’ve read countless novels of the heroine running away to enjoy themselves in festivals. Hence, you have an idea of how to sneak out. 

It was 10:30 PM, nearing midnight. You disguise yourself using old clothes you stole from your servant, stripping all your jewelry in your possession, and only keeping a few silver coins. Sneakily, you slid past your servants and guards, climbing out of your estate’s wall. It took you a few tries due to your lack of physical strength; however, after some attempts, you succeeded. You quickly run away from your estate; The cool night breeze brushes your face as the song of the trees accompanies you on your journey. You smile to yourself-- for the first time in your life-- you felt free. 

However, your adrenaline rush was caught short as you spotted a man with silver hair in the distance. 

You tried your best to avoid him, but the man has the wind by his side. And so, here you are.

 

You awkwardly laugh, “Kaedahara Kazuha, it is a pleasure to meet you.” 

Kaedahara Kazuha stays quiet; his eyes are wide in shock as he notices your tattered clothing and unkempt appearance. You are a person of high regard, never in your life have you worn poor-quality garments and presented yourself unsightly. Even as a young child, Kaedahara Kazuha could only observe you from a distance due to the immense status gap, despite being a former aristocrat. Therefore, he can’t help but be shocked at your appearance. 

..

...

'Ah. I am doomed.' You thought. Today is your first time sneaking out of your estate, and you got caught. Sweat rolls down your cheek as you wait for the younger Kaedahara to reply. Numerous thoughts fill your mind as you wait, countless of which was fueled by anxiety. 

'What if he tells on me?' 'If he ever tells this to Ayato, would I be disposed of for being improper?' 'If my family finds out, I would never be allowed to step foot outside of my family estate.'

Your expression darkens as you fall into despair, realizing the gravity of the situation. For the first time, you felt free, no longer trapped in a well-decorated cage like an ornament for display. However, you got caught. 

Suddenly, Kaedahara Kazuha speaks. 

"Don't worry," he says as you slowly look up at him, "I won't tell anyone." Your mouth was slightly ajar, confused. "Huh?" You mutter. 

Kazuha smiles, "Everyone has their reasons for running away." 

"But I'm not running away," you refute. Kazuha looks at you confused, "Huh?" 

"I'm just here for a stroll," you state. 

"Ah." Kazuha rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed, "I apologize for the assumption."

"It's alright," you smile. 

An awkward silence fills the air as you two refrain from talking. Truth be told, this is Kaedahara Kazuha's first time conversing with you; moreover, he is not one to chat with children from other aristocratic families-- that was his sister's job. Due to this, he does not know what to say. 

Regardless, this does not stop him from worrying. Why? Probably because you are his former superior's fiance? Who knows. Furthermore, Kazuha knows better than to leave you alone at night. Though you are wearing old and poor-quality clothes, your aura screams "rich noble", which can make you a target for petty thieves. 

So, Kaedahara Kazuha makes a decision. 

"I won't tell anyone," He repeats. "However, please allow me to accompany you, master [Name]." 

a/n: crazy how this took me like a year to update lol sorry

taglist

@nanaoya @nokkoongie @local-mr-frog @mnn11ankamaaka @akiqvq @iiyumii @aloveablechaos @lily-blackstone @notlive06 @monexxuu @crowbird @cherlynono

[odinsblog]

“I sometimes hear people say that Russia was forced to attack Ukraine because Ukrainians wanted to join NATO. Those people also often say that NATO promised it would not expand to the East, but later broke this promise. And this, allegedly, is the reason why Russia keeps attacking its neighbors.

If you have ever heard people say something like that, please know that this is not true. And it will take me less than five minutes to prove with facts that both statements are false.

First, let's have a look at the timeline of events.

Russia first invaded Ukraine in February 2014 by occupying the Crimea peninsula. At that moment, Ukraine was a neutral country by law and expressed no intention of joining NATO whatsoever. For instance, during the Revolution of Dignity, the protesters insisted on Ukraine joining the EU, not NATO. It was only in autumn 2014, after many months of war, that Ukraine abandoned neutrality.

So what came first? Russia attacking Ukraine, or Ukraine wanting to join NATO?

The answer is clear.

Had Russia not threatened Ukraine's existence, there would be no reason for our country to seek collective security. So please do not repeat the lie that, I quote, “Russia attacked because Ukraine wanted to join NATO,” end of quote. This does not correspond with the facts.

Now let's have a look at the story of NATO allegedly promising not to expand to the East.

If you ask people who say this, when exactly, such a promise was made and who made it, most of them will not be able to provide a clear answer. Spoiler, because no such promise has ever been made and the whole story is a Russian fairy tale.

Those more sophisticated will tell you that the promise was made to the President of the USSR, Mikhail Gorbachev. They may even refer to the 1990 U.S.-Soviet negotiations on the reunification of Germany. Again, let’s consider the timeline.

In summer 1990, when these talks were held, the Soviet analog of NATO, the Warsaw Pact, still existed. Its dissolution, let alone the Soviet Union's dissolution, was not on the cart. No one even talked about it or imagined it. It was only next year, in 1991 that the Warsaw Pact, and later the USSR, quite unexpectedly ceased to exist.

Now explain to me just how the very issue could be even discussed in the summer of 1990. It is not surprising that Mikhail Gorbachev later himself refuted this falsehood. When asked by a journalist whether any such promise had been made, he said this was a myth.

Now let's look at it from another perspective. How could NATO even promise anything like that?

Initially, it is not NATO that decides which country joins it. Countries themselves need to want it. And actually, the membership criteria are very difficult. It requires a lot of political will and reform. All the NATO members that joined it after 1991, really wanted to be part of it.

Their people wanted this.

And here comes the most uncomfortable question for Russia: Why were all of the nations that had been part of the Soviet Union or the Socialist bloc so eager and desperate to join NATO?

Well, maybe because in three decades, Russia has invaded or incited war in at least three of its neighbors, Moldova, Georgia and Ukraine. At the same time, Russia has not dared to invade any of its NATO neighbors.

Do you see the pattern?

The only reason for countries in the vicinity of Russia to seek NATO membership has always been and remains the need to protect their people from Russia.

Therefore, Moscow has only itself to blame for the fact that all of the central European and Baltic nations ran away from it and hid under the NATO umbrella as quickly as they could.

Do not let Russian officials or their supporters in the West fool you. Russia attacked Ukraine not because NATO expanded to the East, or because Ukraine wanted to join NATO. Russia attacked because it denies Ukraine's right to exist and wants to conquer our land and kill our people. It is through our shared strength that we can and must stop Russia and put an end to its aggressive plans for the rest of Europe.

For this to happen, keep supporting Ukraine and don't buy Russian lies.”

👉🏿 https://www.brookings.edu/blog/up-front/2014/11/06/did-nato-promise-not-to-enlarge-gorbachev-says-no/

👉🏿 https://www.tumblr.com/odinsblog/686191406300184576/appeasement-does-not-work-appeasement-didnt

👉🏿 https://www.tumblr.com/odinsblog/684530801484922880/believing-putins-reasons-for-invading-ukraine

👉🏿 https://www.tumblr.com/odinsblog/742088177664344064/violated-agreements-1991-russia-cosigns

[baumguy]

While I'm thinking about RWBY Vol 9. The epilogue that was released at RTX totally recontextualizes the last few Volumes. All of the decisions our heroes made were messy. They didn't know if they would succeed, and spent most of Volume 9 grappling with the failures that landed them where they were. But the epilogue?

"Remember her message" is the thing they're remembered by. The city of Vacuo, currently hosting refugees from every other nation on Remnant, is proof that the world can be united against the Grimm.

And I think about all of the little decisions that led to that outcome. To Ruby and Yang arguing about saving the world vs just the people of Mantle, and neither of them getting a perfect victory. I think of Penny desperately defending Amity Arena, and when it's thrusters were down, LITERALLY holding the weight of the world on her shoulders so that just a portion of Ruby's intended message could be heard. I think of RWBY, Penny and Jaune sacrificing everything to make sure the Atlesian refugees could make it to Vacuo, unsure of what danger awaited them on the other side. Of all the things RWBY did in V8, none of it turned out how they planned.

But every single one of those plans they made, and the good that came from them, were the Legacy they left behind.

Volume 9 has a lot to do with Legacy, too. There's Ruby dealing with the legacy of Summer Rose, terrified she can't be the hero her mother was, of course. But there's also Alyx's Legacy in the Ever After; specifically, that the lie she told was the catalyst for the big bad in V9, Curious Cat. And all the hatred of humans Alyx sowed amongst the Aftrans.

But what was RWBY and Jaune's legacy in the Ever After?

Jaune left behind The Rusted Knight and Juniper, which literally inspires people to be heroes in Remnant's modern age. He wasn't the same hero he was in the fairy tail, but he certainly made an impression on Louis, Alyx's brother.

And Ruby left behind Little, now Somewhat. An Aftran that died trying to help her, but believed in her ability to do good so much, that they modeled their next life after her, so they could keep doing good with Junioer long after Ruby and The Rusted Knight had left the Ever After.

RWBY is a complex show, but one thing I absolutely adore about it, is that even though our heroes can objectively fail in their tasks... Their actions were enough.

They were enough.

The show is so kind to all of their failures, and we see time and time again the good that came from them just TRYING, even if it was against all odds. Even when it was hardest, they didn't give up hope, and they kept fighting to help people and do good. Every little good deed they did, even through all of the death, and loss, and sadness, was enough to make the world a better place. To give people who were certain to die a fighting chance. That's their legacy. And I think that's pretty neat.

[smnthvxe]

Chapter 1: The Past Echoes

Chapter 2 , last chapter

Readers point to view

The sun dipped below the horizon in Sumeru, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink as I closed the shop for the evening. The little coffee shop, once just a dream, had become my sanctuary, a place where laughter and the rich aroma of coffee beans filled the air. Yet, amidst the hustle and bustle, my heart harbored a quiet sorrow, a longing for the one who had once been my everything—Kunikuzushi.

Our life together seemed like a distant memory, a fleeting moment of happiness that had slipped through my fingers like grains of sand. I remembered his smile, the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, and the warmth of his touch. But those memories were overshadowed by the pain of his departure, the day he walked away, leaving me with nothing but silence and a heart full of unanswered questions.

"I wonder where you are now," I murmured to the empty room, allowing myself a moment of vulnerability. The walls of the coffee shop, adorned with pictures and trinkets from our travels, echoed back my solitude.

Nights were the hardest, when the world fell silent, and the weight of his absence felt unbearable. I would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, imagining scenarios where he would return, where he would explain why he left and we could start over. But as the dawn broke, reality would set in, and I'd brace myself for another day without him.

One evening, as the final rays of sunlight vanished, leaving the world in twilight, a figure appeared at the door of the coffee shop. My heart skipped a beat, a foolish part of me hoping against hope. But it wasn't him; it never was. Instead, it was a traveler, seeking refuge in the warmth of the shop and a cup of coffee to ease their journey.

"I heard this place serves the best coffee in Sumeru," A blond traveler remarked, breaking the silence.

" Yeah! Yeah! I bet her coffee can make Paimon jerk off all of the pain from that mean-rude-annoying hat guy!?" The little fairy spoke

I chuckled, pouring them a cup. "I hope it does little one."

As they settled down, the blond traveler—known as Aether shared tales of their adventures, of the people they'd met and the wonders they'd seen. And for a brief moment, I allowed their stories to transport me away from my sorrow, to remind me of the joy and beauty in the world. The world he promised to explore.

But as the night drew to a close and Aether thanked me for the hospitality, I was left alone once again with my thoughts. I wondered if Scaramouche ever thought of me, if he ever regretted leaving. The rational part of me knew it was futile to dwell on what could have been, but the heart is seldom ruled by reason.

I busied myself with cleaning up, trying to shake off the thought. "You need to move on," I whispered to myself, a mantra I repeated every day, yet found so hard to practice.

One day, curiosity got the better of me, and I ventured out, seeking any trace of him. I traveled to Inazuma, to the places we had once explored together, hoping to find closure, to finally let go of the past. But instead of peace, I found only echoes of our time together, reminders of the love we shared and the pain of his departure.

As I stood in front of our old home, now abandoned and falling into disrepair, tears filled my eyes. "Why did you leave, Scaramouche? Why did you break us?" I whispered, the questions lingering in the air, unanswered.

I realized then that I might never get the closure I sought, that some wounds take longer to heal, and some questions remain unanswered. But I also understood that I couldn't live in the shadow of his memory forever.

"Oh? Who you might be?"

A voice spoke from behind, i turned around to see a Kitsune-like woman with a shrine dress.

"I was.." you cutted " Visiting something"

"Visiting you mean that house over there? Sorry to say this dear but that house is already abandoned. "

She pointed to our shared home at the nearby hill.

"Yes, I know. I was just- recollecting some old memories"

By that she smirked and I bid my farewell, walking away.

With a heavy heart, I returned to Sumeru, to my coffee shop, my haven. I poured my soul into my work, creating a space filled with warmth and happiness, a stark contrast to the emptiness I felt inside.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, I slowly began to rebuild my life. I found joy in the simple pleasures, in the smiles of my customers, and also I became good friends with Aether, he would often visit my shop to drink coffee and share his adventures with me. My interest perked up as he said something about fighting a false god along with Buer. You were always a fan of sumeru's Archon that's why you choose to move there.

There are some days where I close the shop, drinking bitter coffee (which reminds you of Scaramouche) alone reflecting every moment I have spent with him.

And though I may never fully understand why he left, I've come to accept that some chapters in our lives must come to an end, to make way for new beginnings. So, I continue to move forward, one day at a time, carrying the lessons of the past and the hope for a brighter future.

In the quiet moments, when the world slows down, and I find myself lost in thought, I whisper a silent wish for Scaramouche, wherever he may be. "I hope you've found your peace," I say, letting my words drift into the ether, a final goodbye to a love that once was. But.. If ever he'll come back ...

A/N : hehe kinda rushed lmao

(You may notice some grammatical errors cus yk im kinda writing this and studying for our exam)

[hbyrde36]

It's Only Forever

R: Mature | WC: 6507 | | Ch 2/8 | Read on AO3

Ch 1 [Penny Art Link] [SissayeRys Art Link]

Chapter 2: Into The Labyrinth

Tick, tock.

It didn’t take Steve long to reach the outermost wall of the Labyrinth. He was feeling cautiously optimistic as he approached—thirteen hours seemed like more than enough time to complete his task—but was quickly brought back to reality when he noticed the distinct lack of any sort of entrance. 

Surely the place had a gate or front door of some kind, right? 

Shit.

For all Steve knew he’d been dropped off on the wrong side of the thing, or maybe getting inside was the first hurdle he had to overcome?

“Well, that doesn’t seem fair,” he murmured to himself. 

Thankfully, not far from where he’d walked up there was a girl wandering along the edge of the wall, wielding an old fashioned bug repellent sprayer. She appeared to be roughly his age, and honestly Steve might have thought she was an outsider like him If it weren't for the way she was dressed. 

Similar to Dustin's kidnapper, she looked a bit like a character out of a period film or something, though her clothes weren’t fancy like his had been—more commoner than king. She wore a loose-fitting off white blouse with puffy sleeves tucked into beige linen trousers, and a pair of well-worn leather suspenders slung over her shoulders. 

“Hello?” He called out. “Excuse me, miss—I’m supposed to solve this labyrinth, but I can’t find my way in.”

The girl turned, her light brown chin-length hair falling into her eyes. “Oh, It’s you.” She said with a frown, and turned her attention right back to tracking what, at a glance, looked like a huge flying bug.

“Hey! I was talking to you—” Steve stomped after her, managing to trip over a large rock on the way and stubbed his toe. “Ah, fuck,” he spat, balancing on one foot for a moment until the pain subsided. “What are you doing anyway?”

Steve squinted. Now that he was closer he could see that what she was stalking were not in fact large moths, but rather, small humanoid creatures with wings.

Fairies, he hazarded a guess. 

“Hmm, cute.” 

She turned slowly, staring at him over her shoulder as though he’d suddenly grown three extra heads. “Cute?! It’s an infestation!”

“What’s the problem? They look harmless enough,” he said.

The girl scoffed, and once more returning her attention to her task, aimed, fired, and with a puff of noxious fumes, the fairy that had been hovering in front of her fell like a stone to lie motionless on the ground.

“Shows what you know.” She smirked, toeing at the creature at her feet. It remained limp and still. “Fairies bite. Ever heard of rabies before, Harrington?”

“Wait, you know who I am?”

“Uh, yeah? Would have thought that was obvious when I said—oh, it’s you—a minute ago. You really don’t stand a chance in there. You should just turn back now, save yourself a whole lot of trouble.”

Steve huffed, hands coming to rest on his hips as he stared at her. “You’re rude, you know that?”

“No, I'm Robin, and I'm a little busy here, so if you’ll excuse me—” 

She tried to walk away from him again, and this time Steve ran out in front of her, physically putting himself in her path. This girl might be fucking infuriating, but somehow he didn’t think he was likely to run into anyone else out here. 

“Wait, please,” he pleaded through gritted teeth. “Do you know how to get into the labyrinth?”

She sighed heavily. “Of course I do. I’ve got eyes, don’t I?”

Jesus Christ, she was worse than Dustin. 

Steve waited expectantly for a moment, but she just stood there, silent.

“Well..? Are you gonna show me or not?!”

The girl poked a finger hard into his chest. “If you can’t see what’s right in front of your face, dingus, I don’t think there's much hope for you.” 

“What do you mean right in front of my—”

She grabbed him roughly by the shoulders with both hands and forcibly turned him back around to face the high wall, the same stretch of it he’d already seen… except now there hung a huge set of doors that were absolutely not there a minute ago. 

“What the fuck—” 

Each side of the entrance was covered in creeping vines, criss-crossing over the cracked and weathered planks. There were no handles or latch that he could see set into the ancient wood, which might have posed a whole new problem, but as he watched, the doors swung open of their own accord as if to welcome him inside, or else, daring him to enter. 

Steve held his breath and took a few tentative steps towards the archway, catching his first glimpse of the inside of the maze. It wasn't a total surprise. More walls lined the interior, nearly as high as the last, though these were made from stacked bricks rather than large stones, and the surface seemed to shimmer as the light bounced off of it, like a visual representation of the magic this place must be steeped in. 

“You really going in there?” The girl asked from behind. Her voice, for the first time, completely devoid of any attitude or snark. 

That, almost more than Steve’s current surroundings, was unsettling, to say the least.

“I have to.”

With no more hesitation, and without looking back, he stepped inside, worrying his bottom lip as he cast his gaze to the left and to the right. It was as if he were standing in the middle of a long hall or alleyway, no discernable difference between the two directions.

“Cozy, aint it?”

Her voice was loud and far too close for comfort. Steve jumped—whirling around to see the creepy girl suddenly right next to him again. He hadn’t heard her follow, and assumed she'd gone on her way, happy to be free of him. 

She smiled, clearly pleased that she’d startled him. “So, which way will you go? Left, or right?”

“I don’t know,” Steve began, taking another long glance down each long stretch. “They look the same.”

She shook her head. “Oh yeah, you’re doomed alright.”

“Okay, which way would you go, if you know so much?”

She snorted. “Neither, obviously.”

“Right,” Steve breathed, and using a silent count off of eenie-meenie-miney-moe in his head, picked a direction and started walking. 

“Thanks for nothing, Rachel.” He called back over his shoulder.

“It’s Robin!” 

“Whatever!” 

“Don’t say I didn't warn you!” She shouted.

He spun around at that, walking backwards as he flipped her off, praying he wouldn’t trip again in the process and ruin the effect. 

Robin, who’s name he finally, begrudgingly, managed to commit to memory, stormed away back out through the set of wooden doors, which slammed shut behind her, leaving him trapped inside—alone. 

Not that it mattered, he had no intention of leaving. If he didn’t bring Dustin home their mother would literally kill him, and damn it all, he loved that little dweeb.

Steve had no choice but to press on.

For almost an hour he walked, picking his way over bare tree branches, fallen leaves, and other debris that he didn’t care enough to try and identify, all the while growing more and more frustrated. He’d gone what had to be at least two, maybe three miles? And had yet to see a single turn. 

It just went on forever and ever with no end in sight.

And look, Steve wasn’t as dumb as people often assumed he was. He knew there had to be a trick to it, something he was missing or overlooking, but for the life of him he had no idea what it was. In a bid of desperation he took off at a run, thinking maybe that was it, maybe the trick was to make him think the path was never-ending so he’d give up!

Like hell was he going to fold so easily to that damned Goblin King… and his big stupid gorgeous eyes, and those curls, and that jawline and—

Fuck.

Steve’s chest heaved, heart racing, and it wasn’t just from the pumping of his arms and legs. There was a reason he’d been avoiding thinking too much about the dark, mysterious figure who’d come into their home and stolen his brother away. He was evil. What else could a thing like that be—a monster who steals children and threatens to keep them forever? 

Just because he was obscenely attractive, and fucking packing if the unmistakable bulge that had been so clearly visible in those skin tight pants he’d been wearing was any indication, that didn’t mean—

Steve licked his lips absently, skidding to a sudden stop as he became aware of where his mind had wandered.

No.

Absolutely not.

Dustin. He had to find Dustin. He couldn't afford to let himself be distracted. 

Steve glanced down at his ever-ticking watch as he worked to catch his breath. Damn, another hour down already. 

He squinted his eyes in a pointless effort to see as far ahead as he could, but there was no change, just the same long, endless path in front of him sandwiched between brick walls.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Steve cursed, with feeling, pounding his fist into the hard wall over and over again before sliding down to sit at the base of it, resting his head on his knees. Crying wouldn’t help a goddamn thing right now, he knew that, but knowing it didn’t make it any easier to swallow back, to stop the burning in his eyes or the tightening in his throat.

“Hey, watch it!” 

Steve’s head snapped up as a high pitched yet powerful voice shouted very close to his ear, and he found himself face-to-face with a worm the size of a small guinea pig, or a large hamster, sitting on a ledge built into the wall. 

She was bright pink and yellow with a sky blue underbelly, and her hair—

Hair? 

Did worms usually have hair?

Her dark brown hair was set in braids that fell around her head, with teeny tiny pink and yellow beads on the ends of each strand.

“Did you… did you just say hello?” Steve heard himself ask, though the question was ridiculous. Worms couldn’t talk, he was sure of that much. 

Reasonably sure.

Okay, fine. Considering everything else that had happened so far, maybe it wasn’t entirely out of the question.

She gave him a scathing once over, somehow looking down her nose at him even though she was only a few inches tall, and curled her lip, unimpressed. “Actually, I said—hey, watch it—but close enough I guess.”

“But, you’re a worm.”

“Yeah, and?” She scoffed, “watch whose walls you're punching, jock. You shook the whole damn house!”

“Oh. Um, I-I’m sorry?” Steve stuttered out. Why was he feeling so intimidated by this small pink worm?

“That’s more like it.” The worm gave a satisfied nod before moving to leave.

“Hey, wait,” Steve rushed out. “You don’t know the way through this labyrinth by any chance, do you?”

The small creature turned back to him with narrowed eyes. “What’s in it for Erica?”

“Who’s Erica?”

“That’s my name, dipshit. Keep up.”

“Right.” Steve’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t have anything to offer you, I just—I really need to get through this thing so I can save my little brother, but there aren't any openings or turns or anything!”

“Brother, huh?”

“Yes. He’s only a kid and I…” Steve blew out a long breath, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him with a light thud. “It’s my fault he’s here.”

“Alright, alright, save the crying for your mommy.” Erica wriggled closer, the lines of her small face softening slightly. “Look, I got a brother too, and you’re lookin’ a little pathetic—so—I guess I can help you out, pro bono.” 

“Really?”

“First, you need to get your head out of your ass. There's openings all over the place, you’re just not seeing them. Like, across the way, just there—” Erica tilted her chin, gesturing at the wall opposite them.

“What?” Steve glanced from the very-solid-looking wall, to the worm, and back again. “But there's nothing.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just get up and try it.”

He pushed himself to his feet, mumbling, “can’t believe I'm taking orders from some little worm girl.”

“What was that?” Erica asked.

“I said, okay, I'm going!”

Steve took a few careful steps forward as he held his arms out in front of him—not about to walk face first into a brick wall even if it would prove his point, but no matter how close he came to the surface his hands touched nothing but air. He kept going, until his hands, then his arms, then his whole body went through the wall to the other side, revealing another path. 

Well, not through the wall exactly. There was an opening, it was just an optical illusion. 

The bricks of one wall were perfectly patterned and aligned with the bricks of the next set, causing the entryway to be effectively invisible to the naked eye until you were right on top of it.

Steve’s heart leapt, a sense of hope coming back to him in a rush. Maybe he could do this! 

He moved to take off down the right side of the new alleyway, but the worm called out to stop him. He didn’t really have time for more delays but he supposed after what she had done for him, the least he could do was stop and thank her.

He turned around to face the worm again and flashed a quick smile. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” He said, and quickly bounded away before she tried to detain him again.

The further Steve ventured into the Labyrinth, the more twists and turns he encountered. Which was better than no turns, obviously, but it was becoming more and more difficult to retrace his steps when he encountered a dead end. 

Eventually he began to leave himself breadcrumbs of a sort, marking his path with small rocks and twigs formed into arrows, indicating whether he went right or left. 

It was going great actually, and he really felt like he was making progress, right up until he hit his sixth dead end. He turned back ready to take the other choice of turn, only to realize the slab of floor he’d left his bits of twig on was moving, spinning around to make the arrow point in the opposite direction.

”What the hell?!” Steve threw himself to the ground, lunging for the flat rock, trying to pry it off the floor to get to whatever force or creature was trying to trick him by changing his marks. He pried at the edges with his fingertips but it wouldn’t budge.

“It’s not fair!” He shouted.

“Newsflash, life isn’t fair.”

The unexpected voice came from directly behind him and had Steve jumping back to his feet, whirling around to face the source of it. The sight was as unexpected as the voice had been.

“B-but, this was a dead end a minute ago.”

In the middle of the empty alcove he’d just come out, of were now two ornately carved doors. In front of each stood a child-sized guard. One of the girls had dark hair, shorn very close to her head. She stared at him with wary eyes and a tight lipped neutral expression. The other had bright flaming red hair styled into two braided pigtails. Her face was painted with a spray of freckles, and she wore the most condescending smirk Steve had ever seen outside of a mirror. Both guards held gigantic shields out in front of them.

“No,” the dark haired girl said, shaking her head, “that is the dead end, behind you.” 

“Wha–” Steve twisted around to look back—he was going to get whiplash at this rate—and sure enough the girl was right, the path behind him had vanished, and a wall of leafy green hedges had taken its place.

He was trapped.

“It keeps changing!” Steve shouted, stomping his feet. “No one said it would—I thought this was just a maze!” He ran a hand roughly through his hair. “What am I gonna do?”

“Your only chance of getting out of here is to try one of these doors. One of them leads to the castle at the center of the labyrinth,” the redhead said. 

Her partner cleared her throat, as if gearing up to say her part like it was something they had rehearsed. “And the other one leads to—”

“Certain death.” The redhead lowered her voice to a dramatic rasp, while the other girl dissolved into delighted giggles that she tried, and failed, to hide behind her shield.

“Awesome.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have a feeling I'm going to regret asking, but which one is which?”

“You can only ask one of us,” the short-haired girl answered. 

“Mmhmm, it’s in the rules,” the redhead added, “and you should know, one of us always tells the truth, and one of us always lies. 

The other girl nodded solemnly. “Yes, that is a rule too.”

Steve stepped closer, examining what he could see of each door over the girl’s heads as they spoke.

The redheaded guard leaned forward as he approached, whispering to him conspiratorially and pointing to her friend, “she always lies.”

The other girl gasped. “Max! I do not lie! I tell the truth!”

“Oh, Jane. Don’t lie to the guy.”

Jane stuck her bottom lip out, pouting, and raised her eyes up to meet Steve’s. “She is the liar.”

“No offense, girls, but I don’t trust either of you.”

“Girls?” Max snapped.

“We are very old. Do not let our looks fool you,” Jane said. 

“Right, fine, whatever.” Steve said, not really listening anymore. If either of them were to be believed he had a fifty-fifty shot at guessing right, and being well on his way to the castle.

And hopefully one step closer to the end of this goddamn nightmare. 

He pointed at the redhead—Max—and the door she guarded on his left, and with another silent count off of eenie-meenie-miney-moe in his head, swung his finger back and forth until it landed on Jane, and her door.

“What are you doing?” Max asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Choosing.”

She threw her shield down, freeing her hands to settle on her hips, looking as though he’d personally offended her. “But you didn’t even ask us anything!”

Steve lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Riddles are more my brother’s thing than mine, so either way I'd only be guessing.”

“And if it is certain death?” Jane asked.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“Cross that…” Max sputtered. “Certain death, is certain death!”

“Nothing is certain, especially in this place. That's what I've learned in the last few hours,” he said, as much to himself as his audience, while stepping up to Jane’s door. “So if you’ll let me pass, I'd like to use your door—please.”

Jane stepped aside wordlessly, moving to stand next to her counterpart, and Steve wasted no time grasping the handle, pushing the door open, and walking into the dark beyond it.

Then, he was falling.

Eddie let the heavy doors slam behind him as he bounded back into the castle after leaving Steve on his own just outside the limits of the labyrinth. He was grateful that whoever was supposed to be on guard duty seemed to be occupied elsewhere for the moment, probably in the throne room with the others gawking at their new captive.  They didn’t need to see him like this, and he could use a moment or two to compose himself if he was honest. 

He was feeling a bit… strung out, or something, after spending time in close proximity to—him. 

The pretty boy who was somehow even more alluring in person. Eddie had managed to hold it together, to play his part as the Goblin King in a masterful performance, if he did say so himself, but it hadn’t been easy—for so many reasons. 

Under his cool, calm, and collected exterior had been a heart beating like a racehorse in the Kentucky Derby—a situation not helped in the slightest by the way Steve had stared, seeming to be struck by him too. 

A most unexpected turn of events. 

Not that it mattered. There was no coming back from this, no chance that Eddie could continue to drool over the subject of his desire in the same way. 

It was—

It’s not like he’d even really liked Steve before, okay? The other boy could be such an ass at times, and downright bitchy on occasion. Though, bitchy was a damn fine look on him. 

And maybe Eddie had wondered what it would be like to live in a world where he could occupy space next to Steve, let himself sink into a fantasy or two when he was lying in bed late at night, his own hands and fingers roaming his body as he pretended they belonged to another, but that was done now. He couldn’t entertain it anymore when Steve had done something so cruel.

Eddie paced back and forth in the hall just outside the throne room, knowing he needed to get in there and do his bit, but it was all still roiling inside him, a savage storm raging in his head. 

A very, very deep down voice whispered that Steve probably hadn’t been serious, hadn’t known his words would have any real effect or consequences, but that was a little bit the point, wasn’t it? You shouldn't say shit you don’t mean—not like that! And certainly not about your child!

Not that— 

Not that Dustin was Steve’s child, obviously. So, sure, maybe it wasn’t exactly the same situation but—

Eddie hurled himself forward and flung open the door, cutting that train of thought off in its tracks—now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past—and had barely a moment to look around before something, or rather someone, barreled straight into him.

The absolute last thing he expected upon his return was to walk into his throne room and be immediately assaulted by the boy he’d just kidnapped. 

Dustin’s short curls bounced as he began to smack at Eddie’s chest, more than half the blows not even making contact, and the ones that did were weak at best. Eddie grinned, enjoying the show of spunk, but quickly realized they had an audience, and it wouldn’t do well for his image to let the goblins see him allowing a young human boy to assault him like this. 

As gently as he could, Eddie took the boy up by the back of his neck, feeling a little like he was scruffing a disgruntled kitten, and proceeded to march him out the door, wearing a scowl for show. 

He led Dustin down to the end of the hall, stumbling through another door and into the library where they could have a moment alone, releasing him once they were behind closed doors. 

“Listen, kid…”  Eddie began, only to have the little shit turn on him the second he was free, arms windmilling wildly. “Stop!” He shouted, catching one of the kid’s small wrists mid-motion, applying just enough pressure to get his attention.

Dustin finally stopped trying to hit him, thankfully, but instead shouted in his face. “What did you do to my brother?!”

Eddie had expected to see fear in the kid’s eyes when they finally stood face to face. There hadn’t been time for them to really size each other up before, when he’d whisked the boy away from his room with a hand on the shoulder and a tiny bit of magic, but there was only simmering rage in those baby blues now as Dustin glared. 

“Nothing much, but why should you care anyway? Has it not yet occurred to you that he is the reason you’re here?” Eddie scoffed, releasing his grip on the young boy’s arm. “He wished you away, kid.”

“So?” Dustin shot back.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open. “So?!”

“Clearly you didn't grow up with siblings. Now, where is he?”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth several times before shaking his head. “Right about now I suspect he’ll be trying to find his way inside the walls. That’s the deal, if he can manage to get through my Labyrinth, find his way to the gates of the Goblin City, and make it all the way up to the castle, he can win you back and you’ll both be free to go. If he fails? You’ll become one of us, stuck here forever.” 

“Oh,” Dustin said, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. 

…Oh?

That’s it? 

Oh?!

This kid and his fucking single syllable responses. He’d just found out he’s going to be stuck here forever, and all he can say is oh?!

Eddie ground his teeth together, hissing through them. “You don’t seem very worried.” 

“You don’t know Steve the way I do. He might seem like just another jock asshole, and he is sometimes, but people underestimate him. He’s brave, and smart—smarter than even he knows, I think. If anyone can do this, he can.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that. In truth it just made him feel even more sorry for the younger boy. To have such blind faith in his brother? He was setting himself up for a world of disappointment when Steve inevitably gave up on him. 

“You accepted all of this rather easily,” Eddie remarked eventually. “Your brother did too. Most people these days don’t believe in other realms, or creatures, or even magic. I expected more disbelief, honestly.”

Dustin shrugged. “The world’s a weird place, if you take the time to look. I'm not gonna deny something I can see with my own two eyes, even if I had thought it was made up.”

Following their little chat, Eddie returned Dustin to the throne room, leaving him in the care of his innermost circle of goblins. They’d never actually harm the boy, and now that Eddie knew the kid had next to no fear—and frankly no survival instincts, but that was a whole other issue—he wasn’t so worried about leaving him alone with them. 

He was surprised to find no sign of Chrissy hanging around the court. He thought she’d be waiting impatiently for his return, to question him about his little quest. 

When asked, the largest of the goblins, who he’d taken to calling Freak, grunted that she’d gone off to her chambers. And while it was true she did have rooms within his walls now, having moved into the castle at his insistence once they'd grown close, he had a feeling that’s not where he’d find her. 

As suspected, she was perched in the window of his own bedchamber, looking out over the city. It was her favorite spot to sit and think, and watch their world go by.

“So, he’s a handful.” Chrissy said without looking back, the moment he entered the room.

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed a laugh, peeling off his travel cloak and tossing it on the long wooden bench at the foot of his bed. “You could say that again.”

“For some reason I was expecting a baby, or like, a toddler? Or maybe I was just hoping he was.” She sighed, and swiveled around to face him, leaning her back against the window frame as she pulled her knees to her chest. 

Eddie sauntered over to her, a sad crooked smile playing on his lips. “Everyone is a child to someone. I was practically an adult when I came here, as you know.” 

He’d confessed his own backstory to her long ago over a few bottles of wine, but though they both knew the truth Eddie always said came, and not was brought, whenever he referred to his own origins aloud. As though it were his choice, in hopes that eventually the creatures he ruled over would forget how he came to be there—in hopes that maybe one day he could forget too.

“He’s the same age I was.” Chrissy said quietly.

Eddie stilled for a moment, breath catching in his throat. Chrissy never talked about her past. She usually spoke as though her life began here in the Goblin City, and he never pushed the issue, understanding on a deep level what a sensitive subject it could be. 

A thousand questions popped unbidden into his head at once, but he held back. She’d tell him what she wanted him to know at her own pace. He could be patient. They had all the time in the world. 

“I just…” 

Chrissy trailed off, trying to find her words as she fought off angry tears. 

“Well it’s a little more cruel with an older kid, isn’t it? A baby wouldn’t remember where it came from, wouldn't know that the person who was supposed to love them the most in the world didn’t even try to get them back.”

Eddie closed the remaining distance between them and gathered her up in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she lost the fight against her own grief and broke down crying. He knew this pain—all too well. His own father hadn’t made the effort either, had been glad to be rid of his disappointing offspring, but he couldn’t imagine the same being true of this sweet, precious girl, would never have guessed their stories were so similar. 

He lost track of time after a while, no idea how long he and Chrissy hid away in his room while he consoled her, and maybe shed a few of his own tears for her as well as himself. But Eddie knew he needed to get back to work eventually. 

He needed to check on Steve. 

No, not—

Check in on—he needed to check in on Steve. See how far he’d made it, or if he’d given up already. That’s what Eddie meant. 

It was no longer merely the stipulations of his post that made him want to test the other boy. It was for Dustin’s sake, as much as anything now. If Steve wanted his little brother back he was going to have to earn it, and pay for his mistakes in the process.

He tried to convince Chrissy to stay behind. She looked exhausted after their talk, and he wanted nothing more than to tuck her into his bed and let her rest until it was over, but she refused. 

She was going to be there for him through this no matter what.

When they did finally return to court, Eddie took up his spot on the throne while Chrissy stood like a sentry just behind him. 

The goblins all gathered excitedly around on the floor in front of him, the scene so reminiscent of toddler story time at the public library that Eddie nearly broke character. He managed to hide his throaty giggle behind a cough, or so he thought until Dustin glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow.  

The boy had joined them as well, and seemed, inexplicably, like he was trying to make friends. Specifically with three of the smallest goblins, who he was calling Mike, Will, and Lucas respectively. The goblins already had names of course, but even Eddie had to admit they were notoriously difficult to pronounce, and besides, the three seemed to be enjoying the attention, as well as their new given monikers.  

Eddie lounged back in his seat, attempting to give off an air of casualness as if this were any other day, and conjured two of his crystals in hand. Dustin gasped at the small show of power, and Eddie couldn’t help smirking to himself.

He concentrated on the two spheres, rolling them around each other, swirling them in his palm and thinking of Steve until the first images began to appear within.

In one he saw pieces of the recent past—Steve coming across Robin, the two of them bickering which ended in her relenting and showing him the way inside. Eddie was definitely going to have to do something about that. After all, he couldn't have his subjects out there aiding his adversary. 

The image warped and changed, and then Steve was conversing with one of the labyrinth’s many colorful worms, somehow convincing her to help him as well. In fact, had he continued to listen to her he might have even found one of the shortcuts that led directly to the castle—Steve’s arrogance getting in his own way. 

Eddie’s eyes flicked to the other crystal, his window into the now, and watched as Steve ranted and raved about the unfairness of the world and the audacity of the labyrinth to change right under his nose, even as he tried to adapt. 

Refusing to acknowledge the pang of sympathy that shot through him at Steve’s plight, Eddie let out a low chuckle, focusing instead on Max and Jane as they explained their rules, and wondered how Steve would handle the riddle. 

“No, no that’s not,” Eddie muttered to himself and sat bolt upright, the smile falling off his face as he stared at the scene playing out in his hand. “He can’t do that!”

“Do what?” Chrissy asked, leaning over his shoulder. 

At the same time Dustin cried out, “What’s happening?!”

“He’s guessing,” Eddie snarled, breaking his concentration for a moment to address the kid. “For all your monologuing about his abilities, that so-called brother of yours is out here blindly guessing, like jumping into fire and hoping for the best!”

“I told you.” Dustin grinned. “See? He’s so brave.”

“That’s not bravery, it’s idiocy!”

Eddie fumed, returning his attention to the crystals just in time to see Steve step through Jane’s door, and immediately fall from sight.

Fuck.

His heart clenched. It was the right door, Steve had gotten lucky, again, but it didn’t mean he was completely out of harm's way. 

A drop like that…

“Helping hands,” Chrissy whispered.

Thankfully much of the magic Eddie wielded was instinctual, there weren't a lot of fancy complicated motions to perform or words to say. As long as he knew his capabilities and his intention was clear, it was, for the most part, easy enough. 

Without thinking twice Eddie tossed the balls into the air, sending them back to whatever limbo they lived in when he wasn’t using them, and took a deep breath. He let his eyes roll back, for a moment in his mind becoming the dark shaft Steve was currently plummeting down, before forcing it to change. Countless pairs of hands sprouted from the curved walls—hands Eddie controlled that reached out to catch Steve mid-air, bringing him to a sudden halt.

With a dozen or more sets of hands and fingers Eddie held on, mostly gripping Steve by his arms and legs, but for security a few cradled his bottom, and fuck Eddie never dreamed he’d get to touch Steve's luscious ass for real, but he would have preferred it under different, and definitely more consensual circumstances than these. 

He did his best to ignore the fire that began to burn in his belly at the feel of it, which wasn’t all that hard to do when he finally looked into Steve’s eyes.   

It was something he’d never seen on the other boy’s face until now—terror, pure terror. Eddie thought back to all the months of watching Steve, and remembered the one and only other time he’d seen Steve anywhere near this level of fear, when that asshole friend of his, Tommy Hagan, had tried to get him to climb the town’s water tower. 

Steve was afraid of heights—of falling.  

As hard as he was holding onto Steve, Steve was holding right back just as desperately, lacing his fingers with some of Eddie’s. Not that the other boy knew they were Eddie’s, all Steve would see in front of him were hands the color of stone.

The warmth from before traveled up into Eddie’s chest, his skin breaking out in goosebumps at the touch of Steve’s hand, and that reaction was enough to finally snap him out of it. 

What was Eddie doing? 

He didn’t want Steve to die, sure, but who cared if he was afraid? He should be. This was all his own fault.

With another shift of his will, the eyelashes fluttering on his physical body where it still sat on his throne, Eddie manipulated some of the hands to form faces and mouths, like some bizarre version of shadow puppets, and used them to speak.

“Come on, come on, we haven't got all day.” 

“W-w-what do you mean?!” Steve asked, stuttering.

“Which way?”

Steve swallowed audibly, repeating the question back to them. “Which way?”

“Up, or down?”

Down!” Steve quickly shouted. “Down. Yes, please, down.”

“Then down you go—”

Perhaps a little slower than was necessary for mere survival, but still fast enough to have Steve kicking and screaming, Eddie passed him down from one group of hands to the next, until the narrow shaft opened up into a small room, and he had no choice but to let the other boy drop the last few feet to the dirt floor below. 

It was less of a room and more of a dungeon, actually. A place to put things or people and forget about them. Which is probably what Eddie should be doing now, but he had other plans in mind for Steve. 

Eddie pulled himself abruptly out of the vision, thankful he was seated or he might have fallen over from the impact of suddenly being more solid in his own body. 

Chatter erupted all around the room, everyone present shouting questions at him at once. 

“What is it?”

“What’s happening?”

“Where is the human now, King Eddie?”

“He’s in the oubliette,” Eddie stated plainly. 

The gathered party, minus Dustin and Chrissy, erupted into cheers and laughter. Which just made Eddie feel bad for Steve all over again, and a little gross for scaring him, which then made him angry, and—

Eddie panted, out of breath like he’d been holding it. How was Steve doing this to him? 

“Quiet!” He shouted in a rage, narrowed eyes raking over his people. “Why are you celebrating? Clearly we’ve been going too easy on him. He shouldn’t have even made it this far, he should have given up by now!” 

The goblins were enthusiastic in their agreement, save for the three that’d been bonding with Dustin, who were a little quieter in their enjoyment of the festivities, and giving little sideways glances to their new friend. 

Dustin paid them no attention, his eyes glued squarely on Eddie’s figure. ”Steve would never give up!”

Eddie stood, looming over the young boy. “We’ll see how true that is when I have one of my people lead him back to the beginning. All that work and he’ll be right back at square one!”

Chapter 3: Underground

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[thetriforceinitiative]

While this is a modern au, magic still exists. And while I had to tweak their backstories a bit, I’m trying to keep them, them. You know what I mean? (Apparently Zelda is a very popular name for girls)

I only have a few of their backstories worked out, since I’m less familiar with a few of them (legend and Hyrule I’m sorry I don’t know anything about the defeated timeline…. That’s a lie I know a bit)

Warriors is a war veteran who’s friends with the presidents daughter, Zelda. She eventually ran for president, and to no one’s surprise she won. Cia was an ex of his who used to be a fellow soldier. After he alerted the general of what she did to him, she’s in jail now. Later in his life he was diagnosed with npd.

Wind lived in a small fishing town, and always had a love for the ocean. He’s good at piloting boats. Winds still a kid, but he’ll tell you it dosnt matter because he used to keep the village safe from the “bad pirates” (because according to him, there are good pirates too. He is one of them)

Twilight used to be a farmer, but got caught up in some magic shit where he met Midna. Yes, he can still turn into a wolf. He was adopted by Rusl and Uli after he ran away from home at six, and he’s still haunted by the fact he left his siblings there. He’s planning on getting them back at some point.

Wild used to be a body guard for some rich guys daughter, also named Zelda. However, he got in a freak accident (I’m thinking horrible car accident but that wouldn’t exactly fit would it?) and came out of the ordeal with severe amnesia. He’s now friends with Zelda.

Sky came from a small settlement on the outskirts of Hyrule called skyloft, with almost nothing to his name and desperate for a job. He was still visits often. Sky may or may not be dating the leader of the villages daughter, Zelda (another Zelda? Who could have guessed). He used to be one of the top knights there, and would often be in charge of protecting the village. Poor guy has narcolepsy

Time grew up in the forest, as an orphan. It’s hard to say what really happened to him, as he dosnt remember, but there are some legends surrounding the forest he used to live in. Some say forest spirits used to live there, watching over the land. Some say a cult of children lived there. Some even say the forest was haunted. Either way, he was kidnapped at seven and held at the facility ever since. For some odd reason. He can speak the language you’ll often hear fairies speaking. No one’s sure why, he just thinks it’s normal. He can’t remember his name, Time was a nickname Malon gave him. He kept it because it sounded cool

Malon lost her ranch due to bankruptcy, and joined a testing facility out of desperation for cash. It seemed like the perfect job, most of the things she needed to do included physical work, and despite what some people seemed to think she’s actually quite smart. They gave her a place to stay, and good pay, and decent food. She found out what the place really was like, but it wasn’t like she could just leave.. Malon had promised to take care of that poor man she found.

I can’t think of much for four, all I know is he is infact FIVE people. Yes, you heard me correctly, four is five. Theres green, blue, red, Vio/purple, and Link

And there’s nothing for Hyrule or legend yet, feel free to submit ideas if you want to!