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snailsgoingdowntown · 22 days ago

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Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

Chapter 3.

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'Slight' Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader.

Arranged marriage AU.

SOME SPOILERS FROM THE NOVEL

Warnings: Maria once again being a creep and sadist, mention of the reader becoming a ‘toy’ (aka being experimented on, abused, losing all her human rights), Dion is most likely out of character, some things are conveniently there, the yandere themes will show up eventually just not now. I should probably add ‘Yandere! Dion’ to the other chapters. Probably. Edit cuz I completely forgot hahahahajajajajaja: one (1) mention of incest. Please tell me if I missed anything else I'm so tired I only slept 3 hours I do recommend doing that

Slightly edited.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the harmful and/or dangerous actions/behaviors that take place in this piece of FICTION. These actions/behaviors should not be normalized or romanticized as they are extremely toxic and dangerous.

This blog writes and interacts with DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT REBLOG FANART/FANFICTION DNI.

Chapter summary: teatime with your mother-in-law(s)… how wonderful. But Maria makes a strange comment on her son that has you overthinking.

Word count: 3041k

===

The greenhouse was beautiful, all kinds of flowers adding color, the lush green bushes making it look peaceful. Butterflies that flutter around, the bees that pollinate, the birds that chirp – so peaceful. The warm ray of the sun keeps your skin warm. The weather was perfect.

“You know… I just couldn’t see Dion with anyone. That boy shows no interest in anything – but I’m curious to see how this plays out. Although if you ask me, I think he should be grateful to get such a beautiful wife such as yourself!” Maria claps her hands as she praises you.

Yes. The weather was perfect. But being cornered and held hostage by Maria Agriche under the pretense of teatime was not. The blasted woman found you not even an hour after your bath – truly a morning person. The worst part was that it’s been two hours since she dragged you into her little game.

“Don’t you agree, Sierra?” The woman in question looks at Lant’s third wife timidly. Her deep blue eyes filled with both pity directed at you, and fear for her well-being glances at you. Her honey blond hair practically floats with the wind. She looks back at Maria.

“Yes, of course.” Then she looks back at you.

“Please don’t hesitate to ask us for help.” Hah. Funny, especially when her eyes are silently begging for it. But you’re in the same spot as she is – unable to escape. You’re just happy you don’t have a child. Yet.

You repress the cold shiver that attempts to crawl up your spine.

“Oh, thank you…” how should you address them as? Sierra wasn’t technically your mother-in-law… but Maria was. Sierra catches on before Maria does.

“Oh, you can call me Sierra. After all, it’s Maria that’s your mother-in-law, if we consider that Dion, is her biological son.” A forced smile tugs at her lips. The short haired brunette stares at her favorite person in awe.

“Oh my, Sierra!” she coos before turning her attention towards you. Unfortunately, her smile was genuine. Like she didn’t force both of you victims to have tea with her. You take a sip from your cup, hiding your frown. And then, you smile.

“Thank you, Sierra and mother-in-law.”

“Oh, don’t mention it. Anything for my precious, beautiful daughter-in-law!” she chirps. Her purple eyes shine brightly as she offers you more tea. You accept, watching as she personally pours it. Part of you do hope that’s it’s poisoned – maybe just enough to keep you bedridden with a stomachache for a day or two.

Which would mean that most likely, no one would be allowed near you. Well, maybe.

“Do tell me if Dion bothers you at all. He means well, but… he can be too much, at times. Oh! If you ever get lonely, feel free to find me – these kids get so busy.” She props her elbows on the table, resting her hands on the back of her hands. Like a curious child she observes you, gauging your reaction.

Your legs are begging you to run. You resist the urge to flip the table over and run for the hills; she would just kill you once she catches you.

Or turn you into a toy.

“Thank you again, mother-in-law. But I’m sure that we’ll get along fine.” You’re smiling on the outside but you’re screaming and crying mentally. You’re caught by surprise when her white gloved hands carefully reach across the small table to grab yours gently.

“You’re sweet… truly, I’m happy that Lant picked you to be our son’s wife.” Her beauty is breathtaking, pale skin and soft hair, her hat casting a shadow over her face. But it does little to hide that hint of sadistic pleasure in her eyes. You already knew she was a sadist and mental.

But you failed to realize that she would add you to her list of favorite targets until now. Mulling over it, you think that this could be helpful – maybe like with Sierra, she would guard you like a dog. However, that would also mean she would drag you around like a doll. And if she ever got bored of you…

“Oh, are you cold?” She feels how your hands tremble. Right. You shouldn’t think of such things right now. Not in front of her.

“Ah, sorry mother-in-law… I was just excited to meet you so quickly after the wedding. We didn’t get to talk much during the engagement party nor at the wedding ceremony.” You lie, and part of you knows that she’ll only take it as half-truth. Still, her smile twists into something warm yet sinister.

You’re her new prey.

“I’m happy about that too. But my, those events must have left you tired.” She ‘comforts’ you, squeezing your hands before releasing them. They tingle coldly.

“Yes… I never thought that they could be so busy and complicated.” From out of the corner of your eye you notice Sierra busying herself with a slice of cake. She mentally checked out. Oh, how you wish you could do the same.

“Mm, but it was exciting, wasn’t it?”

Exciting? How would she know? She didn’t even want to marry Lant in the first place – she only stayed for Sierra. If you’re remembering correctly from spoilers anyway. Fuck, you wished you finished the entire series.

“It was… different from how I imagined. From the novels I read and what I was told by some relatives, I thought it would have been a breeze. But it was exciting.” Just in a horrible way you mentally add. This woman probably knows your true thoughts so why state them.

Still, you should play the role of a ‘loving’ daughter-in-law.

“Dion,” she starts while pressing her lips against the rim of her teacup, “helped a bit with the preparations. Not much, just with the little things… specific things.”

“What?”

With the way she smiles, it’s clear that she’s enjoying how baffled you are. But forget that – Dion? Help? With wedding preparations?

All she does is grin before changing the subject.

Sierra exchanges a look with you but leaves it be.

---

Your legs give out the moment the bedroom door shuts behind you. Hana went to get you something once she escorted you back to your room. You forgot what though.

“Ah… I thought it’d never end…” you slump against the door, worn and torn. How long was that hostage situation? Three hours? Four?

You need to work on a plan to avoid Maria. Otherwise, her gossip and sadistic tendencies will be the death of you. You’ll die before Dion can even hold a sword against your throat.

“Husband, husband… mother-in-law, husband… which one is worse…” your thumb becomes victim to biting. “The mother-in-law…? She is the reason, well, one of them… I feel bad but I probably shouldn’t…” you mumble to yourself.

“But my husband is also…shit, I’m so fucked….” Is this how Roxana felt? Hopeless and weak? Unlike you, however, she was able to adapt quickly. And unlike her, you weren’t one to stay strong under pressure. Not to that degree. You’re not sure if you ever will be.

Thud, thud

Banging the back of your head against the door seems like a sane choice. Maybe you’ll wake up from this nightmare. Yeah, that’s it! This is just a nightmare. If you hit your head enough, you’ll wake up from it. You’ll wake up in your nice, fluffy bed. It’ll be your eighteen birthday and instead of being told about a fiancé you’ll be told that… you don’t know.

Think (Name), think. There must be something you could conjure up in your mind that could overwrite this nightmare. Something. Anything!

Creak

You fall backwards as the door opens, head landing against something warm and firm. You look up only to see crimson eyes that’s emptier than a void.

“Oh,” you blink up at your husband, “we-welcome…back?” You question rather than greet. He’s like a statue, only looking down at you. He doesn’t move, simply gazes at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. You’re not sure if you want to.

“Wife.”

At Dion’s words you suddenly remember where you were – his room.

You scramble to your feet, tripping once before dusting yourself off to make yourself presentable. Doing a curtsy, you greet him properly. Your head hangs for longer than necessary; you don’t want to see his face nor for him to see the look of fear in your eyes. Cold sweat forms on your temples and you hope he doesn’t notice.

Honestly, you’re surprised to see him. You thought he would avoid you, seeing it as unnecessary to interact with you.

Or maybe he didn’t expect to run into you here. Either way, as you look up at him, you can’t help but wish you would drop dead. To be woken up by your brother shaking you, like the little shit he is. To smell the coffee your mother would make for the dead tired servants.

“I heard you had tea with mother.” He walks past you, causing you to quickly face him. No brush of the shoulders. No questioning why you were sitting on the ground like a dog. Not even a glance is thrown your way.

“Y-yes,” you shouldn’t stutter. Probably. “It was…” nice? Horrible? Exciting or boring? “…a unique experience.” You answer, fiddling with your hair. That should be a neutral response. You decide to keep quiet about what Maria had told you – that he helped with some of the preparations.

Most likely, she lied about it to see your reaction.

Dion doesn’t say anything else. Just goes the closet and slip off his shirt to change into a new one. Your cheeks feel warm as you look away, bashful. Now was not the time to admire his muscles. Rather, now was the time to excuse yourself and come back once the coast was clear.

Now that you think about it… where would you even go? There were too many twists and turns, with insane, awful and bestial people. What if you ran into one of his many siblings? Or another wife that decided you were a weak little thing they could get their hands on?

Or worse yet, run into Lant? The realization of how alone and weak you are, has your fingers pulling at your hair. Are you safer here after all? With Dion Agriche? The most brutal of all siblings?

Well, you are his wife… but that doesn't mean he won’t dispose of you. More so if he really did take after his father as others said. He did in the series, you think, but everything was turned on it’s fucking head. You don’t know what to expect anymore.

“Mother enjoys playing with the weak,” Dion informs you as he walks past you, glancing at you over his shoulder. You can’t breathe. “So, I suggest you don’t show weakness.” He leaves you like that. You watch as he closes the door behind him, silent. It was all you could do.

Voice caught in your throat and heart threatening to burst out your chest, his advice replays in your head. Yes, you knew that. But you’re unsure why he made the choice to warn you. He had no reason to. Wife or not, he showed no interest in you – maybe he had a good day today. Felt generous.

As generous as he could be. If so, you pitied Roxana – he probably ran into her and annoyed her. It probably made his day, too. It was the only thing that you could think of.

Your lungs release the deep sigh you didn’t know you were holding. Body finally relaxing, your legs give out on you. Again. The tile is hard and hurts your knees. Will they bruise?

You should work on this. You’ll lose the use of your legs and knees if you don’t. …maybe you should find and talk to Roxana.

No. She won’t help you. Even if you tell her everything, she might pull some strings and get rid of you, not wanting to take a chance. Not willing to have you accidentally have a slip of the tongue.

Funny. The only hope of your salvation will likely see you as a nuisance. To be fair, you can’t and won't blame her – you held no importance in this family. Lant is probably looking for a new wife for Dion this very second. Why stop at one wife?

“Haaaah… why couldn’t I be reincarnated into something like…’The Otaku Love Connection,’ or ‘Positively Yours,’… at least I wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells and worry about dying…or tortured…” you lament, trying your best not to fall apart. If you were going to be reincarnated as a character that shouldn’t exist, couldn’t you at least be away from the main and side stories?

Away from all the action. Just living a peaceful life. That’s all you’re asking for.

The again, you probably don’t deserve that… not after…

“…No use in thinking about the past. I guess God is making me pay my dues,” you force yourself to stand. Your legs may be wobbly, but you can’t keep acting like this. Sure, some of your in-laws may leave you alone once they realize you pose no threat; however, that doesn’t go for everyone.

Once everyone sees that Dion holds no interest in you, good or bad, some will dig their claws into you. Especially Fontaine. That creep… he’s worse than Dion with certain things. Like incest.

No, no, no! You shouldn’t just assume that about Dion! Sure, the vibe he gives off in the series is… questionable. But-!

Knock, knock.

You jump, startled. Hana must be back. With what, you absolutely have no idea. You had checked out mentally by the time you escaped the clutches of Maria.

“My lady, I have brough you the indigestion medicine, as Lady Sierra had requested.” Her statement puzzles you before you feel some warmth spread throughout your chest. She’s sweet. Too sweet.

You feel horrible for her but even worse for her children.

You push the thought away.

You force yourself onto your feet.

“Come in.” you order, praying that Hana didn’t hear the crack in your voice. One breath, two breaths, your lungs work overtime to ensure you keep breathing. It hurts, like you’re being stabbed from the inside. You need to work through the pain.

Fuck, you need to work through the pain if you want a fighting chance to survive here. Maybe make it out if you’re lucky.

Hana comes into the room, holding a tray of water and a small white pouch of medicine. Doubt starts to swirl inside you. How could you be sure that Sierra was the one who sent this? What if it was Maria playing a ‘prank,’ to see your crying face?

Man, why did you zone out during the last ten minutes of that damn get-together.

She walks closer until she’s barely a foot away. You take the medicine with wariness, unable to reject it in front of the maid. Her eyes are glued to you. Expecting you to accept this so-called ‘medicine’ without hesitance. And so, you do.

You can feel the pills go down your throat, the water barely helping. When you place the near empty glass down onto the tray, Hana bows before taking her leave with your permission. Again, the door shuts. Only for her to come back immediately afterwards.

Great, just great.

“My lady, I forgot to tell you… I’ll be helping you get ready around six.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Dinner with Master Dion. I’ll come back here and there; forgive me for not staying near your side for the entire day. As for now, I am not your personal maid yet.” So, Hana is going to be your personal maid. But why isn’t she right now?

How strange.

Wait. Maybe this is a good thing – you’ll be alone for quite a bit. Away from preying eyes. Maybe you could conjure up a plan on how to survive this hellhole.

“It’s fine, Hana,” a sweet smile as you clasp your hands together, ‘understanding’ of her position. “I’m grateful and happy that you will be checking on me regardless of.” Hopefully you seem sweet enough. Genuine despite everything being faked.

She looks at you oddly. In the end she just bows her head before leaving.

“…I think I’m going to die from stress before anyone gets to me…” dragging your feet, you sluggishly fall face first onto the made bed. Your feet are begging to be released from the torture device that is your heels; so, you kick them off. Huffing, you proceed to climb further onto the bed till your feet also rest on the mattress.

It’s soft and smells nice.

It smells like your bed back at home, oddly enough.

‘Dion…helped a bit with the preparations. Not much, just with the little things… specific things.”

“…What did that witch mean by that…?” Maria’s words come to mind the longer the scent engraved itself into your nose and mind. “She must be joking,” you muse, letting your eyes flutter shut.

But… things are starting to get a bit creepy.

Your eyes open. The longer you think about it, the gears turn in your head.

First, the shampoo. Sure, it was a popular brand, but you doubt your husband wanted to go around smelling like lavender. His… victims would smell him instantly if he used the product. The smell was more subtle than strong, but it would be best not to take any chances. Now, the bed.

It smelt like fucking citrus. Bergamot oranges to be exact, the same smell your bed has.

You shake your head. It was just a coincidence – cirtcus smells were known to keep the bedbugs away. And as for the shampoo… maybe Maria sent it. As a wedding gift, probably. That or she didn’t want you to smell like him.

Either or neither, it shouldn’t matter. You’re just overthinking this. The insanity that takes over this mansion is just stressing you out. It would only make sense that you overthink about common scents.

“…I wonder if I’ll be allowed to write to my family…”

With that, your eyes flutter close. Everything turns back and sound is no longer a thing.

#yandere #dion agriche #dion agriche x reader #dion x reader #dion agrece x reader #yandere dion #twtptflob x reader #twtptflob #the way to protect the female lead's older brother x reader #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #yandere dion agriche #yandere dion agriche x reader #yandere twtptflob #yandere dion agrece #dion agerce x reader

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coralinnii · 2 years ago

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I love the villain scorned by the world feat: Azul genre: drama note: continuation of reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy AU Azul ver, not gender specific reader, no pronouns used, use of non-canon characters (Neveah), 1.4k word count

I know people wanted to see more of the female and male lead’s downfall but Azul’s story has so much potential for drama that I just can’t skip it. This is more of an interaction between villain/ess!reader and the female lead and things are getting interesting. There’s more to the story

Is it funny that the more I write Azul’s villain/ess!reader, the more they’re starting to be like how I think Jade would act…just sassier

You became the talk of the kingdom for quite some time and you weren’t surprised. You had your engagement annulled and disowned from your family but you managed to disgrace your former fiancé the prince and his lover with their affair. Instead of a fallen noble, you became a surviving noble who became a victim of unfaithful love. All according to your plan.

Free from your downfall, you find yourself living in comfort in your own house close to Azul. The royal family and your own parents have requested your attendance but you declined their letters, playing your victim card to the fullest.

“Oh no, how could I possibly return back to the palace where I had my heart broken?” “My family disowned me. The least I could do is respect their wishes” Good riddance to that stifling environment.

You did notice that you never once received a letter from the young prince, the male lead though you would scoff and burn it if he did anyway. You figured that he was too prideful to address the affair with you. He wasn’t regretful for his actions nor was he regretful he got caught. The original series seriously had a bad cast.

Though it could also be that since the disgraceful act the male lead was sentenced to house arrest to “reflect on his actions”. From your sources, he’s just been angry all this time, especially when he hasn’t been able to meet with his beloved.

Speaking of which, the female lead has been busy through all this fiasco. Crying and spinning the tale of how she was a helpless victim in this mess as well, saying how she was clueless throughout everything since being so new to the noble society.

Please, Jade has better acting skills than she does. You supposed you could commend her for her guts.

Like how she was gutsy enough to visit you in your own home.

“I’m so glad you’re willing to meet with me” Neveah smiled but you didn’t return the smile, choosing to sip your tea.

“You should be glad, considering I probably would have ignored you” you replied indifferently. “It just so happens that I wanted to ask you a few questions”

“Oh? What kind of questions?~” That exaggerated childlike tone of hers really rubbed you the wrong way.

Fighting through your irritation, you questioned her “I’ve heard that you’ve been attempting to meet with Azul for the past few days. Curious since you two aren’t even acquaintances”

“But, we are! Me and Azul are really close~”

“That’s not what Azul says, and you will address him as Count Ashengrotto” you rebuked her claim, a little snippier than you wished but your patience is not unlimited and the ditzy lady is truly testing you.

Azul mentioned his troubles to you when you asked about the visible stress on his face. Apparently he has unfortunately been bumping into the female lead at his businesses and she has been trying to interact with him, even offering to have tea with her…in his own restaurant.

“Tricking her would be akin to taking candy from a child, but even a child is more worthwhile than speaking with her” Azul sighed in aggravation with his brows furrowed. You kept a sympathetic expression but you felt a sense of joy over the silvernette’s words. There’s nothing wrong in secretly taking glee in your crush sharing your disdain over the same irritance, right?

“Perhaps you should take a short rest, Azul” you suggested, “This stress will do you no good and you can’t afford to make mistakes due to your clouded mind”

Azul sighed but nodded “you may have a point”

“Would you like to rest on my lap? I wouldn’t mind after all”

“You-!”

Refocusing your attention away from your memories, you sharpened your gaze at your uninvited guest. “Considering Azul is someone dear to me, I worry about your intentions in approaching him”

Then, the situation took an interesting turn.

The young lady in front of you, undeterred from your stare, smiled brightly which some could compare to something angelic…to some. But her words did not match her innocent appearance.

“Are you worried that I would approach Azul the way you did?”

You didn’t break your expression but you must admit you were close to. Is she insinuating…

“Isn’t it weird that the famously lovesick fiancé of the prince suddenly changed?” Neveah questioned, putting on a confused pout on her lips. “No explanations, like a whole new person. The story has changed”

Oh, how interesting.

“So you’re interested in me” you finally smiled back “What can I say, I realized one day this was not my love story so I decided to change my ways”

“Is that so?~”

“Yes. But back to the topic,” you took control back of the conversation “You haven’t explained your reason for approaching the count?”

Whatever calculating look you thought you saw in the female lead disappeared as she smiled even brighter than before, fully committing to her innocent appearance.

“I just felt so bad in interfering with your engagement that I’ve been avoiding the prince in respect for you, not even replying to his letters. Then maybe you can reinstate your engagement with your beloved”

My beloved? You truly had difficulty not outright laughing out loud over that idea. But it was an interesting tidbit the female lead gave, knowing that the prince has been sending her letters meant that those two are still in contact. Just because she said she doesn’t reply, she could still be reading them.

“I’ve been trying really hard to forget the prince so I’ve been visiting the Monstro Lounge to get away” she continued her story, managing a tear from her eyes. “And I’ve been seeing the count there so I thought we could be friends”

So this is how she’s been fooling the masses. You’re willing to admit that she’s definitely a better actress than you initially give her with her sweet words and unassuming “innocence”. But you knew the story she conveniently left out.

Breaking the engagement between the royal family and your (ex)family of duke status, the male lead has been in hot water ever since as his reputation has affected him to the point that his right to the throne is in jeopardy. Azul on the other hand has been making a name for himself and his value in the kingdom is very attractive to many pursuers.

“How shamelessly greedy of you, Ms. Protagonist” you smirked at the female lead who continues to put on a sweet facade, you commend her ambitions at least. She really wants her happy ending.

But you’re done with this conversation already. You got your answers and have no interest in keeping company with this eyesore for any longer.

“That’s all I need to hear, I believe it’s time for you to leave” With that, you waved to your guards who were standing by to escort the lady to the door.

“Wait, then will you take the prince back? And convince the families to restore the engagement” Neveah quickly asked you before she was ushered. Ah, so that’s why she came to see you. You never did bother to ask…or care.

“Firstly, I don’t have the habit of picking up trash I already tossed out” you calmly stood up from your seat, smoothing down your clothes of creases, and gave a smile towards the female lead before speaking again “Secondly, I’m simply respecting what you said to me. Do you remember? You couldn’t stop from loving who you want”

You watched Neveah stutter and stumble, trying to find the right words but you weren’t interested anymore so you proceeded to leave the room first with some parting words before your guards walk the female lead out of your home.

“I’m letting you love the prince like you said you wanted, and I’ll love who I want, and I intend to fight”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #villainess au #twst imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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maknaeswrld · 11 months ago

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a life eluded | l.mh, h.js

wc: 6.5k

genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; fluff; angst; poly!minsung x reader

cw: pov hopping; anxiety/panic attack mentions; food/eating mentions; Bee (I still feel like they need a warning); all soulmates are gn (they/them pronouns) for sake of future storytelling; past life memories in italics; please please let me know if I missed anything🫶

if you��re new here, start from the beginning: a life forgotten

Soulmates can be a painful thing. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop yourself from running away.

Riley had left you with a hug, two phone numbers hastily written on a paper towel, and a promise to meet up soon. You and Lia counted off ten minutes before leaving as well, hopefully giving you enough time for Riley and any possible companions to be long gone.

You thought the idea of reaching out to them would scare you, but the more you looked at the numbers, the more you wanted to talk to them. You assumed Bee was the one that had yelled at your soulmates, drawing their attention off you long enough to make a break for it.

They’ve been looking for you for a long time.

Riley’s words found themselves on repeat in your head, not letting up even slightly. How could they have been looking for you if they’d never met you? They couldn’t possibly have known you. But they still noticed your absence. Enough that it weighed on them, caused them to seek you out even without knowing who you were.

They’ve been searching for their ‘missing piece’ about as long as I’ve known them.

Their missing piece. Not a burden, not a hitch in all of their plans, not some unforeseen unfortunate circumstance. You were included in their future long before you even knew of your past, they’d been attempting to seek you out for far longer than you’ve been avoiding ever finding them. In their minds you were the final piece of an extensive puzzle. Their final piece.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were typing both numbers into your phone and creating a group chat.

Y/n: you didn’t tell me which number belonged to who so i just made a gc, I hope that’s alright.

Unknown Number: Who are you and how’d you get these numbers?

Unknown Number: shut up Bee, I already warned you about this. sorry Y/n, I was rushing a bit, this is Riley and the other number is Bee’s :)

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): WAIT!!! YOU’RE MINSUNGS THIRD?! THE ONE THAT RAN AWAY EARLIER?!

Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): Bee istg

Y/n: uhhhh yeah, I suppose that’s me

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): I would’ve run away too, those idiots are so loud

Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): you are actually not allowed to talk, I think the only person in existence that can rival Bin’s loud ass is you. the both of you together are my eternal migraine

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): SHUT UP WE AREN’T THAT BAD

You couldn’t help the laugh that wells up in you at their banter, after that you fall into an easy rhythm talking with them. They understand you in a way you’re not sure any of your friends ever have.

It didn’t take even two days messaging back and forth for the three of you to make plans to meet for coffee, Bee going on about how unfair it is that you met Riley already. You thought you’d be nervous, you spent the whole morning getting ready waiting for the nerves to hit. These were the soulmates of not just two international idols, but close friends to your soulmates who were in the same group. Everything about the situation should be sending you into a spiral of anxious thoughts, but instead you felt more at ease than you do going to dinner with Lia.

“You look hot, where are you off to?” Your neighbor asked as you were locking the door.

“Coffee with some friends.” It felt too natural, the way friends rolled off your tongue. You hadn’t even met Bee yet.

“Be safe babes.” Your neighbor smiled, entering her own apartment. You weren’t close with your neighbor, but you always looked out for one another. Living alone wasn’t always safe, so having someone who would notice your absence was always a comfort thing for you.

The coffee shop decided on was a twenty minute walk from your apartment, you spent the whole time thinking over everything. When you had found out about your soulmates, one of your biggest concerns was the fact that there were others like you, soulmates of idols who knew who they were supposed to be with and couldn’t get to them. Or worse, that there were friends of yours, people who were the soulmates of the people you knew you had some cosmic bond with, people important to you that you’d never get the chance to remember.

Due to Stray Kids popularity, you got to have your memories with your soulmates members, the memories of how close you were to each of them as well in every lifetime, but knowing they had soulmates, that you likely were very close to their soulmates, that you couldn’t remember them, devastated you.

And now you were meeting two of them for coffee. The memories with Riley had already started to slowly trickle in after the short time you spent with them in the bathroom, you knew more would start engraving within your deepest memories after more time spent together. The two of you were close in every lifetime, it gave you hope that everything would work out in this one as well.

“Y/n!! Run!!’” Riley laughed, hand holding tightly on yours as the two of you sprinted away from the lady chasing the two of you with a broom.

“Get out of here, street rats!” The lady called after you.

After several twists and turns to make certain you were securely away from any possible danger, you both sat against a wall to catch your breath. You started giggling, causing Riley to look at you as if you’d grown two heads.

“What are you-?” Riley trailed off as you produced two small pieces of bread you’d managed to snake while Riley distracted the mean lady. Riley’s eyes lit up before laughter filled the space coming from the both of you.

You each enjoyed your pieces of bread, savoring the taste and the feeling of something on your stomachs, just sitting in comfortable silence with one another.

You’d shared your whole lives running the streets, keeping each other alive and moving, and you always thought it’d just be the two of you, until Riley found Chan and your lives got thrown upside down.

You stared at the sign of the tiny rustic looking cafe. It was the type of place you’d go to every day if you knew it existed. Now that you did, you couldn’t imagine not regularly spending time there. You knew deep down, if all went well today, you’d be spending a lot of time there with Bee and Riley.

A bell jingled above the door as you pushed it open.The whole place radiated comfort and you felt at ease instantly.

“Welcome in, I’ll be right with you!” A cheery voice called from what you assumed to be the kitchen.

“Y/n! We’re over here.” You found a table in a small nook surrounded by books where Riley and Bee were sitting, drinks already ordered. “We didn’t know what you might like and Sage already knows our usuals, but we were waiting for you to get food.”

Before you could take one of the open seats between the two, a short person with a bright smile, freckles, and long hair brushed to a shine seemed to dance toward you, hands wiping at their apron, they reached one out for you to shake.

“I’m Sage, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Their grip was firm despite the dainty tinkle of their voice.

“Y/n.” You smiled in return.

“What can I get ya, Y/n?”

You order your drink, you, Riley, and Bee also putting in your orders for food, and just as fast as Sage had appeared, they’d disappeared back into the kitchen. Taking your seat at the little table, you took a deep breath before looking up, only to find Bee and Riley already staring at you.

“So like, when are you gonna finally meet your boys? OW! Fuck Riles, what was that for?!”

Riley pinned Bee with a pointed glare.

“Are you avoiding your soulmates?” Sage asks, gently placing your cup in front of you and taking the last seat at the table.

You turn beat red at the accusation. “Not exactly.” You mumble.

“Totally is. They found each other young so they’ve had five years together already and now this one seems to think they’re going to ruin everything, even though Min and Ji already know about them and have been looking for them.” Bee stated, sipping out of their own cup. “OW! Fuck, why are you guys always attacking me!?” This time, Bee glared at Sage instead of Riley.

“Because you make yourself an easy target. Listen, Y/n, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while owning this shop and spending way too much time people watching, it’s that no matter how hard you try to fight it, you’re meant to be with who you’re meant to be with. That's just the reality. If you were going to ruin their lives just by them finding you, you wouldn’t be their soulmate. Simple as that. Min and Ji have been in here a few times with Chris and Bin, they’re good ones, I guarantee you could never regret letting them in.”

“Your parents made a good choice with your name.”

Sage grinned, gently lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s a fun name to live up to.”

With that, Sage disappeared into the kitchen once again.

“They’re right though. I don’t think you could ever regret letting them in.” Riley smiled, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

“Sage doesn’t know the boys are idols, do they?”

The way they called all of them by names Riley or Bee would refer to them as instead of any full name or stage name struck you as odd. Either they didn’t know or they were the bands inner circle, that thought making a strange sense of insecurity rise up your throat.

“Nah, Sage doesn’t really do technology and only really listens to the radio their grandfather had is his restaurant. They know next to nothing about the idol world, which is why the boys like coming here so much, it’s peaceful and off the beaten path.”

You nodded, sipping your drink. You could understand that, especially with the boys being idols with soulmates, a quiet coffee shop with next to no attention on it is the perfect place to be able to have uninterrupted time together.

Shifting in your seat to look around the small shop more, you found yourself wondering what your soulmates thought of the cozy shop and its somewhat eccentric owner. What were their regular orders here? Did they like having a regular order or did they change it up? You found yourself wanting to know how they decorate their rooms, if they like to read, what they like to watch. You wanted to get to know your soulmates personally in this lifetime, not just what you know of them from every life passed.

A few weeks ago, a few days even perhaps, that would’ve terrified you. You would have found yourself thinking of Jisung and Minho, and these thoughts plenty, but you always shut it down knowing it was fruitless, you wouldn’t get the answers anyways. But now that was different, now they knew you, now they wanted to get to know you just like you wanted to get to know them. Now everything was different, and the two men you love of your memories have a chance to become the men of your present if you so chose.

While losing yourself in the thoughts, zoning out the conversation happening between the shop owner and your fellow Stray Kids soulmates, your eyes landed on a gorgeous trellis made of wood and covered entirely of vines and flora, reminding you painfully of the arch and altar at your wedding to the two men in one of the very first lives you had a memory of.

“Do not fret, Y/n. No one is going to show up to ruin your marriage tonight, and even if one were to try I am almost positive Changbin and Bee would stop them before you even knew about it.” Sage smiled at you over your shoulder in the mirror, helping you lace up the back of your outfit.

“My father disowned me because of this wedding, it isn’t entirely implausible for him to not try and put a stop to it.” You sighed, worrying your fingers.

Sage pulled the straps a notch tighter than they needed to go, causing you to yelp and stare at your friend incredulously. “None of that.” Was all that was muttered before you were released and spun around, Sage’s hands finding their way to your shoulders. “Now, you are going to get out there, you are going to marry both of your incredible soulmates, and you are going to let your very oafishly protective elders stop anyone who threatens a bond as beautiful as the one you share with Minho and Jisung. Do you understand me?”

All you could do was nod, tears already welling in your eyes, as you pulled Sage into a tight hug. “Thank you, my friend.”

“Oh goodness, have the waterworks started already?” Bee teased, leaning casually on the doorframe. “You look great, Y/n. And if you’re ready, so is literally everyone else.”

Squeezing Sage one last time, you smoothed out the non-existent ruffles in your clothes before exiting the building, finding Chan holding a bouquet and waiting patiently leaning against the outside of the tiny cottage. When he looked at you, the emotions welling in his eyes were all you’d ever wanted to see from your father, and while a part of you wished he would have accepted your soulmates, you're more than grateful for Chan stepping up to such an important role.

“Are you ready?”

“More ready than I have ever been for anything.”

And with that, you were led out into the field, to the altar put together with wildflowers and plants, to your soulmates eagerly awaiting you to join them, to the life you’d never regret despite what your father anticipated.

Because standing there under the floral arch, Jisung’s hand in one of yours and Minho’s in the other, you knew you could never regret them in anything for even a moment.

Minho watched as his lover paced incessantly back and forth in the cutie dorms living room.

Bee and Riley had informed them that they were in touch with Y/n, their third soulmate, and that they were going out with you for lunch today. Riley refused to tell either boy where they were going, knowing Jisung would show up without hesitation and that Minho would just to avoid leaving Jisung alone in any way.

“What if they decide they don’t want us?” Jisung finally spoke the words that had been weighing on both boys since you disappeared a few nights prior, and even more so since finding out you’d been in touch with Changbin’s and Chan’s soulmates.

If you were in touch with the other soulmates, you could have found Minho and Jisung easily at any point. If you were in touch, one of them found you that night, which means you were likely mere feet from Jisung, as he had been with Riley. There were questions flying through Minho’s head at the same rate as he could see them in Jisungs eyes, but he had to remain calm for his lover, if they were to both spiral, no one would be able to calm Jisung.

“They’re not going to decide that, Sungie. They just found out they have two soulmates, you can’t tell me it didn’t take us a while to process that one too. They’ll find their way to us when they’re ready.” Minho pulled the smaller boy into his arms, pressing gentle kisses to the crown of his head.

“What if they’re never ready, Min?” The youngers voice was soft and shaky, Minho felt his heart break at the sound.

“We can’t think like that, Ji. Y/n is having lunch with two of our family at this very moment, if they were never going to be ready they wouldn’t have agreed to that.” Minho tried to ignore the shiver that ran up his spine at saying your name aloud for the first time in this lifetime, he tried to ignore the peace brought to him just by your name alone. His hold on Jisung tightening, his head burying in the youngers neck. “We’re going to be okay.” He promised, ignoring the persistent what ifs echoing in the back of his head.

What if Jisung was right? What if you were never ready? What if you never chose them because of who they are in this life? As much as Minho wanted to negate those thoughts, memories of lives that turned out exactly like that made him question if this would be one of them.

His hand tightened around their wrist, trying to pull them back to him. “Why do you keep running away?!”

“Because I have to!” You cried, finally turning to Minho, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I have to.” Your voice breaking on every word.

“You don’t have to. You can stay with me, we can figure it out.”

“Figure what out? Minho, soulmates are not the end all be all. As much as I would love to just run to you, run away from everything but you, I have responsibilities. I can’t just do what I want, not in this lifetime. We’ve found each other, awesome, great, we’re still in two completely different worlds. You’d be better off trying to find the one missing from our memories, you’d have a chance to have a life with them, to be happy with them. Do that Minho. Find our third soulmate, forget about me, and be happy. Because I can never be, that’s just not how this life played out for me.”

“You’re telling me that despite everything, you’re not choosing me?”

“God why do you have such selective hearing?! I don’t get a choice Minho. I never did! I was born into the fucking mafia, people don’t get to just walk away from that simply because they found their soulmate.

“Soulmates are a weakness just waiting to be exploited, you’ll live your whole life constantly looking over your shoulder, constantly in danger, because of me. Is that really what you want for yourself? For whoever we’re missing? Is that the life you’d choose for someone else? Because I wouldn’t choose this life for anyone and I am begging you to leave Minho. Get out while no one knows, get out while there’s no chance for them to know.”

“But I’ll know.” He hated how broken his voice sounded even to his own ears. “And you’ll know.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he would listen to you, that he’d walk away and never look back. But all you found was a horrifying sense of finality.

Minho wanted to take it away, let you be free of this world you were forced into. He wanted to take your hand in his and never let go, no matter the danger that came with it.

He watched as your face morphed from the helpless near tears girl into a cold and emotionless woman, and it terrified him that you had been forced to learn to shed all resemblance of emotion within a blink.

“I will not ever choose you over my family in this lifetime, Lee Minho. Your life isn’t of importance to me and if you’re so keen to get yourself murdered trying to talk me into leaving with you, then so be it. I won’t come to your rescue.” Saying the words felt like driving a knife right into your own heart and twisting, the look on his face as his grip loosened on your wrist only adding to the immense guilt.

Ripping your arm away from his grasp, you turned on your heel, head held high, tears threatening your lashes, and left him standing there.

Jisung felt like he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was pace around like a lunatic, and every now and again stop to stare at his hands. The hands that held you, the hands that let you go.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the way your eyes lit up, the way your smile outshines every star and sunrise he’d ever witnessed. He could hear the perfect harmony of you and Minho singing together, the way you didn’t miss a single syllable in any of his rap parts.

Jisung thought finding you would bring him peace, completeness, the sense of warmth he already knew with Minho, and for those few minutes he had you, you did.

Now, Jisung figured just knowing you were nearby, knowing you were close enough that maybe he would run into you again would ease the pain in his chest at the memories flashing through his mind, but when Riley informed him that they were on their way to get lunch with Bee, and you, and refusing to tell him where they were going, he felt his heart shatter all over again. His breathing growing uneven at the idea of you being close enough to enjoy lunch with two of his closest friends, and yet nowhere near him.

So Jisung paced. He walked back and forth and back again until he was dizzy, trying to rid his body of a pent up energy he had no idea what to do with. If he stopped, he assumed he’d collapse into a full blown panic attack, if that were to happen Minho would have to calm him down, and if Minho has to focus on keeping Jisung level headed, he won’t be able to grieve your absence too.

Jisung knew he was spiraling, knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself out of it this time, but he had to pretend he was okay, he had to let Minho spiral if he needed to, which means he can’t.

He tried to distract himself. He thought of Minho, of the way he curls into him in his sleep. How Minho nudges his hand, silently begging him to keep scratching his scalp when Jisung gets distracted and stops for any longer than five seconds. The memories of how the late afternoon light filters across Minho’s features, making him look like one of those beautiful paintings Hyunjin talks their ears off about.

But within these thoughts of his incredible soulmate, flitters in you. The way you had a habit of playing with Jisungs hands, he wondered if you’d still do that in this lifetime. He fell into thinking of the way you would stick your tongue out and furrow your brows when you focused too hard on anything, from washing dishes to sewing up a stab wound. He wondered why he had memories of you sewing up stab wounds, and which lives those were from, what you were like in those lifetimes outside the flits of memories he was gifted from the short amount of time he got to be by your side in this one.

No matter how hard he tried, everything kept coming back to you. Trying to distract himself by thinking of his other soulmate would lead to memories of him coming home to find both of you curled up together, fragments of time stilled in his mind of the two of you, smiling at each other, at him. He knew he would lose his mind if he were to be forced to remember you in every single way and never get to experience any of it outside of those few minutes he had on the street.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Your voice was like a melody to his ears, despite the harsh words echoing from it.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be here.” He countered.

Despite the racing of his heart, the familiarity of you, he had a job. One that required getting through you at any cost.

“Whatever it is you were sent here for, think very hard, is it worth the cost of your life?”

Jisung didn’t really put a cost on his life. He was raised and trained for one thing only, to carry out orders by any means necessary. And, as if you could sense that in him, you shifted your relaxed stance just slightly, preparing for an attack, but softened your features.

“There is more to life than what you know, little one.”

At the nickname, he lunged, but it was as if you knew exactly what to expect, perrying and gently placing your hand on his arm, sending the both of you headlong into forgotten memories and lives.

Coming to, Jisungs guard flew up. He didn’t move, didn’t attempt to attack you, but he shut down every possible emotion you could try to gather from him.

“I can show you a better world. One where you’d be in control of your own life, where you’d have an answer to what is and isn’t worth the cost of it.”

Your words were gentle, everything about you seemed to be gentle. You softened your stance, returning to the relaxed position, no longer planning to attack him or counter any attacks from him.

“If you give me a chance, I could give you the world.”

“I think I want to meet them.”

Riley shot up from their position sprawled across your couch, Bee’s mouth dropping open in shock.

“Are you serious?” Riley asked, searching your face for any sense of unease or dishonesty.

You’d been spending endless hours with the two, they’d quickly become your closest friends, aside from Lia. You’d also come to spend a lot of time at Sage’s cafe, quickly learning they are very much a piece of your many lives as well. You were still unsure of how exactly Sage fit into the grand puzzle of lifetimes spent with the same friend group, but you knew they did. Your suspicions only confirmed with Riley and Bee’s agreeance of having Sage within their past lives memories as well.

“Y/n/n, I need you to be so for fucking real right now, do you actually want to meet them?”

You’d seen Bee get serious about stuff before, they weren’t all jokes all the time, but the way they were staring at you at that moment, you knew you had to give the complete honest truth. Bee was protective, and while that insane protective streak has since expanded to you as well, you knew without a shadow of a doubt they’d evescrate you before you had a chance to even think about hurting Minho or Jisung.

“I’m terrified of it, that hasn’t changed. But maybe you’re right, maybe it will work out.” You smile at your friends. “I think I’m ready to risk finding out.”

It didn’t take even twenty whole minutes to get a meeting set up, Riley and Bee dragging you to your room to get you dressed and ready.

“Is it really a good idea to do this now? I mean, it’s really fast, don’t they want time to like, I don’t know, prepare or something?” You’d been rambling the whole time Bee sat on your lap to hold you in place while fixing your hair.

“No. Because ‘giving them time’ only gives you time to back out and the last thing we need right now is Ji going into another spiral because he thinks you don’t want them.” You could practically hear the roll of Bee’s eyes as they finally got off you, surveying their handiwork.

Huffing, you accept your fate as Riley forces an outfit into your arms and shoves you into your bathroom, pulling the door shut.

After getting changed and taking in your appearance, you had to admit, Bee and Riley were good. You’d looked hot, almost to the point of it feeling like it was too much. Taking a deep breath and hyping yourself up in the mirror, you open the door to find Bee and Riley lounging in the hallway, both looking up upon hearing the door open, Riley grinning and Bee letting out a piercing whistle as they take you in, high fiving.

“You’re gonna knock 'em dead, babe.” Bee winked.

You blushed, but couldn’t help the smile stretching across your lips.

“Alright then, let’s do this.”

Not every life went smoothly, not every meeting was practically gold and rainbows. But this one was. Childhood friends and also soulmates is nearly unheard of, most people couldn’t fathom growing up with the memories of every life before the current. But you had met Minho and Jisung at the ripe age of five, Jisung was the baker's son, your mom was looking for work, and you and Jisung were forced to spend hours upon hours every day together.

At first neither of you really understood the full depth of your shared connection, but when you both met Minho, and shared all the same memories with him as well, your young minds didn’t have it in them to care.

Growing up, the three of you would learn the full extent of what happened, but you never had the disconnect from the memories, having your past lives almost completely integrated with your current.

“I wish we could find each other young in every lifetime. It made everything so much easier.” Jisung muttered into your hair. You hummed in contented agreement, fingers massaging Minho’s scalp.

“Unfortunately, that’s not gonna be the case Sungie. Some lives will be easier, some will be harder, there may even be some we never meet at all. But at least in this one, we’ll get to love each other for far longer than we went without.” Despite his words, Minho’s voice was a purr and you knew without a doubt that all three of you, whilst scared of what future lives may entail, were perfectly at peace in that one.

Riley and Bee had never spent so much time away from the boys.

From the very moment Changbin found Bee, they were a permanent fixture within the group. Bee helped 3Racha write and produce, they were in the studio almost as much as the group, and if they weren’t there, they weren’t far.

Riley, from the moment of finally accepting Chan at least, was never far either. They would always be around, making sure all of the boys were eating, weren’t overworking themselves, taking in enough fluids.

To put it lightly, the gap of their absences was almost painfully noticeable in the weeks they seemed to all but vanish. Ever since their lunch with Y/n, it’s been as if the two were ghosts in the skz household.

Jisung knew they were still around, the lack of moping from either of his fellow producers was proof enough, but he hadn’t seen a glimpse of them for days, maybe even weeks.

He felt as if his world was fracturing. Minho was working tirelessly on new choreography, Bee wasn’t around to help him with songs, Riley wasn’t around to make sure he was drinking water, all of his members were enjoying their break before the next comeback, and he was exhausted. Jisung didn’t know how to get out of his head, and he wasn’t sure who to ask for help from.

He knew if he kept the pace he was at, he’d inevitably spiral, and that wouldn’t be any good for anyone. Jisung had decided to hide away in his room and sleep, it was the best answer he could come up with, but just as sleep was threatening to finally overtake him, his door burst open, a downright giddy Changbin standing in the threshold.

“I’m about to take a nap, tell me about it later.” Jisung groaned, turning his back to his friend before his friend could say anything.

Changbin, not having any of it, stomped over and ripped the blankets away from the smaller boy, lifting him out of bed, carrying Jisung to the bathroom, despite his protests, and threw him in the shower.

Before Jisung could complain, yell, or even get a thought in, Changbin turned the water on, drenching him in seconds.

“Y/n wants to meet, get cleaned up and ready to go in ten.” The older boy said before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and leaving an absolutely dumbfounded Jisung to slowly register the words, excitement growing with his understanding.

````

Weeks. Minho had been trying to get the choreography for the next comebacks title track down for weeks. Everything he came up with didn’t feel right, and when it did he didn’t think it looked right.

Hyunjin and Yongbok had offered to help, they’d even stayed with him, learning new dances, so Minho could see how it looked with multiple people, for a fresh perspective. But nothing was right. No matter how much Yongbok would swear he thought it flowed well, no matter how easy Hyunjin picked it up, nothing was right.

Minho knew, deep down, it wasn’t the dances that were off, it wasn’t his choreography at all. He knew it was nothing to do with anything related to music that was wrong, but the only thing he could translate the misconstrued emotions to was dance.

He created new dances every day to give his body and mind something to do, something to take away the wandering thoughts and memories. He’d rather tire himself to exhaustion than remember how it felt to have you by his side.

Minho had come to the conclusion that you were not going to choose them, and he couldn’t blame you for it at all. His hopes were up after he’d seen his only hyung work things out with his soulmate, but not everyone could find it in themselves to be with an idol. Being an idol was hard enough, dating one was a whole other demon of its own.

Despite knowing he has Jisung, despite being overwhelmingly worried about his lover, Minho simply needed to mourn the lover they never had a chance with. He needed his time to accept the fates cruelty upon their lives this time around, and then he’d help Jisung accept it as well.

So he kept dancing. For weeks.

Minho had always found solitude in an empty dance studio. The way the mirrors would be completely empty save for his figure, the silence filling a typically boisterous room, there was just something peaceful about a place meant to be filled being empty.

He was stretching, preparing for hours of working out kinks in his newest routine completely unbothered. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. They were on break, all of the boys were off doing who knows what, and they were supposed to be relaxing leading up to their busy season. Yet Minho was in the empty dance studio, all by himself.

He was lost in thoughts, already hacking away at the parts he wanted to rework, mentally trying to decipher how to fix them, when the door to the studio was nudged open. His eyes shifted to the door in the mirror, finding his only hyung standing in the doorway, a small smile gracing his features.

“You might want to put your plans for the day on hold.” Chan said without even greeting him.

“Why’s that?” Minho asked, being unable to stop the quirk of his brow.

“Because we have lunch plans. Are you sweaty?”

Minho shook his head, “Just got here, I was stretching.”

“Great, put on street shoes and let’s get out of here, we’ve gotta meet Bin and Ji at the dorms.” Chan smiled, moving to grab Minho’s bag for him.

“What’s the rush?” Jisung hadn’t mentioned any lunch plans with the other producers, but to be fair he and Jisung had been somewhat distant from one another lately.

“It’s a soulmate lunch. Me and Riles, Bin and Beebee, you and your soulmates.”

Minho nodded his agreement, very used to soulmate lunches, working on lacing his street shoes when he froze in realization.

Him and his soulmates.

````

To say you were nervous would be a gross understatement. You were downright jittery.

Bee and Riley were positioned on either side of you, both steadfast pillars of comfort bringing an almost overwhelming sense of security. You would be okay, because how could you not be with them by your side?

You’d agreed to meet at Sage's cafe for lunch, it was mutual ground and low foot traffic. Perfect for essentially a first meeting with your two idol soulmates and, from your understanding, Bee and Riley’s idol soulmates as well.

You were ready to bolt. Ready to full on leg it home and lock your door, never to come out again. Despite the peace of knowing three of your closest friends would be there, meeting them was still an absolutely terrifying concept.

The what ifs a plague playing on repeat. What if they don’t like you? What if you ruin everything for them? What if their fans find out? What if, what if, what if.

But with every bad what if, there was also a good one. What if you fit in seamlessly? What if they don’t care about their fans finding out? What if they are as scared and excited to finally meet you as you are to meet them? What if, what if, what if.

You knew you could bolt. You knew that Bee and Riley talked big, but if push came to shove and you needed an out, they’d have your back and get you out. You knew you could turn on your heel and walk the opposite way and they’d text their soulmates an update, and that yours would more than likely be devastated.

It was the fact that you could that kept you from doing so. The idea of Jisung and Minho waiting for you, the mental image of them deflating after hearing you’d change your mind, the thought of them being upset due to your actions, pushed you forward, kept you walking, and you knew no matter what you walked in on, you wouldn’t be able to back out now. You wouldn’t be the one to break the loves of your every lifetime.

Seeing the familiar shop, your heart was in your throat. There would be no turning back, no changing your mind. In choosing to meet them, you chose to give them the ball, everything would be up to them, and the closer you got to the cozy shop, the more you realized you were truly okay with that.

You were never actually nervous about meeting your soulmates, you were giddy about it.

As you pushed the door open, letting the familiar sound of its little bell notify Sage of your arrival, your eyes found your soulmates in record time, both sat at the table under the trellis covered in flora and vines. Your breath caught at the smiles gracing both of their faces, and you knew.

Even though soulmates can be a painful thing, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to run away from yours again.

a/n: ahhhhh it’s almost overrrr😭🥺🥺 this was gonna be a lot angstier and then it just, wasn’t. and idk what that’s all about but I like how it turned out lol. I dragged my feet on writing this part for actual weeks and then wrote like, 5k of it in two days, so I hope it was good haha! thank you so so much for reading, please let me know your thoughts!!🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @starlostastronaut @mariteez @tired-of-life-86 @skizmee @elisiexoxo @cutiespaghetti @httpswilloww @sundownimup-1 @lolareadsimagines @rockstrhanji @quokkampi @kayleefriedchicken @vivirantshere @ciellebys

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alwaysforetells · 12 days ago

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exr fic recs pleeeeaaasseee im sick about them

You got it dude!

These are from an amazing list that my partner put together and I did a bunch of the blurbs for, so get ready

Jojo’s Delivery Service (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31673378

enjoltaire and cosette/eponine, set in the same world as kiki’s delivery service. a lovely, lovely story with so many different plotlines that tie up nicely in the end :) (One of my favorites, I try to do annual rereads!)

World Ain’t Ready (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2306315

high school fake dating au. in which grantaire is an oblivious former gifted kid and enjolras is the new kid who hasn’t learned to keep his head down in their very homophobic school. (One of my favorite fics of all time)

Something telling (between then and now) (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24053155/

!!! Soooo cute. Enjolras gets yoinked seconds from his death and yeeted into the modern world…. Right into Grantaire’s arms. Features hijinks + trauma

I Wait, I Wait, I Wait (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49287016

Really great if you love E and R being awful to each other, miscommunication, and them banging, now repeat that cycle until something gives! Idiots.

The Wikipedia Page (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51855370

Short and sweet, some good old fashioned pranking Enjolras

Crack of dawn, All is Gone (Except the Will to Be) (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34098310

Zombie apocalypse au!! Also we love to see cosette and enjolras sibling dynamic

Seek and Destroy (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51175138

Monster hunters Enj and Grantaire!! This one is SO good and also has a great sequel

Send you my love on a wire (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49270387

SOO CUTE. Socially awkward enj trying to “somebody likes you…..” “You've got a secret admirer…..” To Grantaire. Grantaire is absolutely oblivious and kind of freaked out that he has a stalker.

The Things I Say (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27985131

Can't really remember this one but I thought it was cool ig (such a glowing recommendation -h). Soul mate things. (BE GAY DO CRIMES, GRANTAIRE AND EPONINE BEING QPPs -h)

(Still don't remember this one but my partner seems to like it so you should read it right now)

suckerpunch (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48699310

talented Grantaire!!

Never a flame, we just wanted a spark (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29439555

Courf and comb try to cheer up enj after a rough breakup and it does not go well.

I would know him in death (at the end of the world) (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20939621

Song of Achilles reincarnation thing. Angst. Heavily

I'm not the moon (I'm not even a star) (complete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166749

Amnesia time!

Okau I've got a lot more but I'm tired, so I'll add more to this if requested, in the mean time enjoy these fic anon and make sure to comment on things!

#les mis #exr #enjoltaire #fic recs #always saying things #asks

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fourstarsoutofnine · 1 year ago

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To get away.

Chapter one; out of the woods.

(Player is farore reincarnate au)

Part 2, part 3, part 3.5, part 4

A/n:(in the fashion Of that old disney blue-Ray commercial)here we goooooo! Please lmk what you think. Reader uses she/her pronouns per the poll winnings.

Warnings:feelings of dread. Talk of anxiety.

12:22 am. Swapping through the same four apps, you felt stuck in the dreaded reality you lived in. Sure, your life wasn’t bad by most means, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a looming, general sense of malaise and doom that hung over you like an ugly tapestry of unease. You hated this feeling with everything in you. It made you want to scream and run, despite not knowing what exactly it was you were running from. You supposed that was that old “fight or flight” reaction everyone talked about. You always figured that was reserved for extreme situations like a kidnapping or mugging or that sort of thing, not your usual run of the mill anxiety. Yet, here you sit with your thoughts and music playing in your ears to try to drown them out. And though the effort was valiant, it was no match for the ever-trumping anxiety and need to leave. You went to sleep that night figuring it was just another normal bad night. You prayed to who or whatever would hear for a way out. You had no idea you’d be answered.

You woke to the sun shining in your face and birds chirping awfully loud. It was odd, considering the sun was never this bright in your room and you could never hear the morning birds so clearly before. Then, something blocked the sun from reaching your face. When you opened your eyes and put your hand up to block the remainder of blinding sun from your vision, a boy faded into view. Bright blonde hair, blue shirt with a lobster, and a confused grin.

“You alright, lady???”

“What?” You respond, confused. You knew who this was. You figured it to be a dream.

“I asked if You’re Alright! We found you just laying here!” Who you knew to be the hero of the winds said and helped you sit up.

“No noticeable wounds, so that’s good.” A man knelt by you. His hair was roughly the same color, but a bit lighter. He had strange markings on his face, which you knew to be from the fierce deity mask. This was the hero of time. “Do you remember how you got here?”

“Anything you could tell us will help. Anything at all.” Another said. Pretty boy, tall in stature, slender, and what you thought to be the textbook definition of devilishly handsome. The hero of warriors, no doubt.

“I—uhm—“ you stuttered out dumbfoundedly, trying to process everything. You felt shellshocked and didn’t know what to do.

“Let’s back up away from her, she’s clearly overwhelmed…” a soft voice said, which was all too needed to your anxious ears. The hero of the skies pulled them back and you sighed, resting your elbows on your knees as the ends of your palms dug into your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself from this wild dream. This was crazy. Of course it was a welcome escape, these men were your heroes—a title they knew all too well and some carried like a burden—but they’d helped you in ways they could never know, and ways you could never tell because they weren’t real….so why are they standing in front of you, looking worried? You sighed deeply and opened your eyes. “I don’t know how I wound up here. At all… the last thing I remember is going to bed, and—then I woke up here… that’s it…”

“Strange… but oddly enough, not the strangest we’ve been through.” The hero of time helped you to your feet. “Well; looks like you’re along for the ride, stranger. What’s your name?”

“Y/n…”

“Y/n. Well, you’ll be safe with us. We’ve got ground to cover, so we should get back on track.” He led you back to the path. You were met with the sight of the other heroes of hyrule. They, however, were met with a sight that looked more like doe-eyed fear. Innocent and frightened.

The hero of twilight offered kind a kind and welcomed you into the group; as did the hero of wild, and hyrule. The hero of warriors looked at you with a smile, but it was easy to tell he was more trying to gauge your character. He was a captain, and knew all too well from the hero of the wild that often traitors to the crown disguise themselves as innocent travelers down on their luck. When he saw no sign of that he was quick to welcome you and check to see if you were alright. This, of course, left only the veteran and smith. The smith was kind, but a bit cautious of you. The veteran was cautious and indifferent. According to your story, it seemed like someone just picked you up at night and dropped you off here, which was a little sketchy if you asked him. Also filed under odd and sketchy was the marking over your hand. The triforce.

“Old man.” The veteran called. “I gotta talk to you.”

The old man looked at you, a silent ask if you were alright. Upon your offer of a nervous smile, he nodded and smiled back, walking over. You turned back to your quiet conversation between yourself, the traveler and the champion. They were asking you plenty questions on how you wound up asleep in the forest, each of which gave you no room to answer before another one arose.

“The mark on her hand.” The veteran pointed out.

“I noticed it too.”

“Is she a Zelda? She’s clearly not a Link. Not to mention, the mark is on her right and not her left hand.”

“Precisely. I don’t think she’s a Zelda, but there is something odd about this.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for anything off about it. It’d be good to tell the captain, too. He’s observant.”

“Right. I suppose we’ll talk again once we make camp tonight.” He nodded and went to the head of the group, saying something to the captain that you couldn’t hear, and waving a hand in the air that signaled the group to continue moving. This would be an interesting adventure, you determined. You couldn’t wait to see where it leads.

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jakes3resin · 7 months ago

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Modern Reincarnation AU Part 5 ✨️

Part 4

"Hello."

Bucky turned his head into the crook of his arms. The material of his new suit jacket itches at his cheeks, but he still rubbed his nose against it pretending it was enough to cover his sniffles. He wasn't interested in talking to whoever this was. He'd had enough with talking. Enough of people staring at him with pity as they offered condolences that didn't do anything. No one said anything worth listening to here anyway.

"You're John, right?" The person from before asked. Bucky could hear the rustle of clothing as whoever it was knelt down.

"It's Bucky." Bucky murmured. He refused to lift his head from his arms, so his voice came out muffled and wrong.

"Buffy? Like the vampire slayer?" The voice laughed. "Bit silly, but okay."

Bucky lifted his head to glare at the voice. He didn't care that the man was in a fancy uniform like his parents' old ones or that the kind smile on his face grew in triumph when he did so. No one was allowed to make fun of his name.

"My name is Bucky." Each word enuciated crisp and succinct.

"Well, my name's Chick, Chick Harding. Nice to meet you kid."

✨️

"Knew I'd find you out here."

Bucky doesn't turn to acknowledge Buck as the other leans out the kitchen window. Thankfully, he doesn't step out onto the stairs. Bucky's not sure he wants Buck in his space. It's easier at night when Bucky can pretend, can ignore the hurt just to bask in the comfort. In the daylight, it's the echo of Buck's voice that haunts him dogging his every step.

Don't count on it.

Damn it Curt, how many times do I have to tell you? He doesn't know!

The same voice over and over.

Bucky stares down at the traffic below, watching strangers running around going about their lives. Sometimes, he sits out here and imagines their lives. Imagines what brought them here, where they're going next, and how that changes them.

"Curt asked if we wanted to go out tonight. After dinner with your father, that is."

Curt... Bucky hides his wince by shifting against the railing. He hasn't spoken to Curt yet. He wasn't sure he wanted to. He'd had enough with talking.

"Not sure," Bucky shrugs, turning back to his book. He still doesn't look up at Buck. "Probably not."

"That's not like you." Shock colors Buck's voice. Bucky curls his knee closer leaving only one leg splayed out on the stairs above. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Bucky scoffs. He breathes out softens his voice. "I just don't think I'll feel up to it after dinner."

Buck makes a noise as if he understands, but the fib tastes like ash on Bucky's tongue. His fingers curls around his book, more homework he was supposed to finish at the library.

"You should go. Paint the town red." Bucky finally lifts his head to meet Buck's gaze. The other's face pales. Bucky tries not to feel vindictive. Or guilty.

"Maybe next time." Buck chokes out, voice gruff as he pulls his head back into the apartment.

✨️

"You gonna be calm about this?"

"What? I'm always calm."

"Bucky breaking his arm at baseball practice would disagree with that statement, Chick."

"Extenuating circumstances. He was crying!"

"And he was crying last night when I had to talk you out of calling in favors to take out a university student."

"Political office has to come with some perks. Why shouldn't I use them?"

"Because Congress can impeach you for misappropriating State Department resources, and I won't help you out of it."

"Didn't our marriage vows include for better or for worse?"

"Probably, but who knows? But back to my original point, keep your cool. We don't know what's going on between them."

"Right. I don't think I'm going to like this boy. He's too old for Bucky."

"He's twenty-six to Bucky's twenty-three. Our age gap is worse."

"Well, he still has a lot to explain."

"Sure. Would you get the good plates out of the china cabinet for me? Bucky will be here any minute."

"Yes, dear."

✨️

"We're here!" Bucky motioned Buck in first. Buck's big blue eyes took in the entryway. The high ceilings and beautifully decorated rooms certainly looked different from his college apartment.

"In here!" Jack's voice rang out. A crash echoed from the kitchen alongside his father's voice cursing. God Bucky hopes Jack didn't let him do any of the cooking. Bucky's already dealing with heartbreak he doesn't want to deal with food poisoning as well.

"Follow me," Bucky tried for a smile, but judging by the pinching around Buck's eyes, it was more likely a grimace. "If you're worried about an ambush, they'll at least wait until you've eaten something."

"Right." Buck reaches a hand out for Bucky's. His thumb rubs over Bucky's knuckles. "Let's face the music then."

Bucky leads the other through the living room towards the kitchen. Buck's eyes jumping over the many childhood photos of Bucky decorating the walls, the same wild curls and equally wild smile greeting him in each one.

"Bucky!"

Bucky's dragged out of Buck's hold by his father's hug. Shocks tingle at the tips of his fingers. He might have been imagining it, but it felt like Buck's hand tried to reel in him back.

"And you must be Gale Cleven." Bucky's dad reached a hand out to shake his hand. Bucky watched his father squeeze Buck's hand. Buck's smile never dipped.

"Mr. Secretary, you have a lovely home."

✨️

"So how did you two meet?" Chick asked as filled Jack's glass of wine alongside his own. Both Buck and Bucky had both chosen not to drink that night. Alcohol, as much as Bucky craved the release it gave him, probably wasn't the best idea for him tonight.

"Oh," Bucky cleared his throat. His food suddenly felt like sludge as it went down his throat.

This was fine. He'd prepared for this. He could play the lovesick kid tonight. Tomorrow, he'd confront Buck. He just had to make it through this dinner.

"At a coffee shop just off campus. Buck said I looked like a friend of his from Wisconsin. Said we shared the same name."

"That a fact?" Chick leveled Buck with an deep look. "And that's how the kids do it these days? Chance meetings in coffee shops?"

"Dad," Bucky groaned burying his face into his hands. "Please don't."

"What?" Chick nudged Jack who simply rolled his eyes at his husband's teasing. "Am I too embarrassing now? I thought I was a cool dad."

"Anyone who has to say they're a cool dad, ultimately is the lamest dad." Bucky laughed.

"I'll remember that next time you want a favor or special tickets to something." Chick threatened, but no one at the table truly believed him. His smile was too wide and happy when he looked at Bucky. Plus, Jack would testify that Chick had never denied Bucky anything since Bucky had come into his life.

"You're from Casper Wyoming, aren't you, Gale?" Chick turned his attention back to Buck. Bucky noticed that every time his dad called the other 'Gale,' his hands tightened around his utensils. "How'd you end up in DC?"

"School, sir. I'm a graduate student at Georgetown. Interplanetary physics." Gale took a sip of his water.

"Ever think about joining the Air Force?" Chick laid his knife down. "Degree like that could take you far. I knew a Major who studied the same thing once."

"No, sir." Buck's jaw clenched. "I respect those who serve, but I think I'm happy where I am."

"Chick," Jack laid a hand on Chick's forearm. "He's a retired Colonel, so you'll have to excuse him. Years at the State Department and somehow his allegiance is still to them."

"Not a problem." Buck's jaw finally unclenched. Bucky resisted the urge to reach for him. "Did you fly any of the big birds sir?"

✨️

"Sorry about them," Bucky glanced back towards Buck. The other had fallen behind, eyes distant as if lost in thought. "Buck?"

"Sorry?" Buck's eyes met his own once more.

"Now who's distracted?" Bucky let the other catch up. He twisted his hand out of the way when Buck went to hold it. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his phone to check on the status of their ride. Buck's hand felt back to his side.

"Sorry about the interrogation back there. He's protective."

"It's alright, Bucky." Buck smiles. "He's not so scary. Not to me, and not when it comes to you. Besides, I'd go through a lot worse to stay with you."

The words, heartfelt and genuine, felt sickening to hear.

What about Curt? Would you do the same for him?

The question was once more on the tip of his tongue, the rage and heartbreak burning in his chest, but the sound of the car arriving kept him quiet. Buck let him in first with an overly exaggerated sweep of his arm. Bucky settled into his seat with a laugh as Buck climbed in after him.

"Oh," Buck glanced down at his phone. His fingers tapped over the screen, but Bucky couldn't see who was texting him. "It's Curt."

"Really?" Bucky glanced down at his own phone checking his messages. Nothing from Curt.

"Yeah, he wants to know if you wanna go out tonight?" Buck frowns. "I'll tell him no."

"You know what?" Bucky shoves his phone back into his pocket. What better way to see the pair interact? "Let's do it. Paint the town red, right Buck?"

✨️

#modern reincarnation au #mota #masters of the air #buck x bucky #clegan #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #yes i flipped the ages a bit because i think in reincarnation aus thats a must #you can also tell one of my favorite shows was madam secretary bc i am so basing Chick's position as secretary of state off of that show #yes bucky was adopted by Chick who then later on married jack who didnt adopt bucky but is still his parent in a way #john egan #bucky egan #buck cleven #gale cleven #mota fic #mota au #buckbucky

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tenshinokorin · 1 year ago

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TnK's Trigun Fic Listing

Ok now that I've got 15 fics out for Trigun (so far) and at least a couple of those are upwards of 20K and some of them are sequels and followups and ongoing, I thought maybe I should do a proper list of things, to make it easier for people who want to read in some kind of order. I'm terrible about talking up my own work but this is also for my own reference so that's fine, right? ^^; All fics are Vashwood-centric (I will get to Nai in a minute I have a backlog) and ratings vary from Gen to Explicit, though all are intended for an adult audience. This list is complete as of September '23, I will update it periodically as needed!

NB: I'm lucky enough to have gotten fanart for some of these and sometime when my head is not full of mud I'll go in and add links to those where I can. (Or please drop a link in the replies if you are one of the wonderful artists in question!)

THE BIG THREE STORYLINES:

Someday Out of the Blue & I Believe in the Kingdom Come

Trigun '98 canon. Reincarnation fic. The first one is a story I started writing over 20 years ago and quit after a chapter because I was just too heartbroken (and did not know it, but was also too young). Picked it up and finished it this April (2023) after Stampede clobbered me and I fell off the "we don't talk about wolfwood" wagon. The second story is a direct sequel to tie up some loose ends from the first one, and also to indulge my need for a proper happy ending. (I think a lot of folks don't realize Someday has a sequel but it does!!)

Black is the Color and Mysterious Ways

Trimax Canon. Resurrection/Fix-it/Angstmance with a much shorter, sillier, smuttier epilogue. Three years after the end of Trigun Maximum, Vash is having some trouble laying his ghosts to rest. (You may have seen this incredible artwork which has gotten around a bit and boosts the story better than any summary of mine possibly could.) Weird things happened when I was writing this, I don't mind telling you. Mysterious Ways was mostly an excuse to explore some of the more interesting concepts brought up by the first one, but saying anything more would be spoilery.

Eyes of the Storm

(Mostly) Trimax canon. Cryptid Vash AU, slowburn romance, ongoing. When Nicholas D. Wolfwood gets roped into being the new caretaker for the now-abandoned orphanage where he spent his childhood, he soon finds out that his own hidden memories are not the only thing haunting him. (What the fuck is a Typhoon?) Wolfwood, Vash, Livio, Elendira, et al. This is the one currently in progress at six chapters out of ??. Pretty SFW so far BUT NOT FOR MUCH LONGER CAVEAT LECTOR.

List continues with standalone and shorter fics below the cut!

Honeymoon

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Plant Heat, Wingfic, Tentacle Fic, What the fuck is Hay Fever. Wolfwood offers to help Vash out with a personal problem and gets a little more than he bargained for.

Strange Powers

Generic Trimax/98 setting, comedy/smut/potato jokes/fisting with a loaded prosthetic. What if Vash and Wolfwood (accidentally) got really, really hella high?

Hurricane

Trigun '98 Canon.

Vash: Make money? As a priest?

WW: Well. *mysteriously* Not only that.

Vash: (oh my gosh he's a prostitute)

Shortfic. Wolfwood tries to figure out how to offer his services to someone he doesn't really want to be a paying customer. Short and smutty while also demolishing Wolfwood's professional boundaries.

Skin Tight

Generic Trimax/98 setting. The Infamous Red Dress. PWP, Wolfwood needs to be in the Vash Sensory Deprivation Tank, Vash in high heels, the dress gave its life for this fic you should read it and honor its sacrifice. Look. This is just porn, guys. You want the porny fic? This is the porny fic. (just kidding most of them are porny fics but this one is especially so.)

Secondhand Secrets

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Introspective/Vignette/Wolfwood POV. Vash's artificial arm always moves in his sleep, and Wolfwood wonders what he's looking for.

Personal Jesus

Badlands Rumble canon (post-film), Wolfwood has poor emotional coping strategies, hurt/comfort (Wolfwood provides both), first-time. That red hotel minifridge never stood a chance.

A Fool From Any Direction

Trigun '98 Vash's weird horny schtick is a front, and self-respect doesn't save lives. Which is too bad because when Wolfwood finds out what Vash is planning next he's gonna kill him.

Benediction

Trimax but could also be '98; Sometimes being a hero is not all it's cracked up to be. Or maybe Vash is the one cracking up. Hurt/Comfort, Wound Care & Bible Quotes, Noman's Land is a bitch of a planet. Shortfic, feels, non-explicit/no sex.

A Bit of a Tight Spot

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Costume Porn, PWP, No corsets were harmed in the making of this fic. I feel like this one gets missed a lot which is MADDENING because you guys. WOLFWOOD'S DOUBLE Ds IN A CORSET. And like, in a gender euphoria way, not in a comedy drag kind of way (though comedy drag does make a small appearance). I don't know how the good minister tightlaced in cuban stockings while giving Vash a blowjob in front of a mirror in the attic of a whorehouse can get so often overlooked, maybe my title or summary is lacking, but it's one of the hottest things I've ever written and its engagement is just in the basement? When (emphatic baffled hand motions to Nicholas D. Wolfwood wearing a garter like a thigh-holster). Anyway.

The Quick and the Bed

Trigun '98 Comedy, Romance, First Time. The single bed trope. Drunk Idiocy. Wolfwood's vows are in serious danger. (Wolfwood does not have vows.) Readers have let me know that they find this one amusing. Roommates of readers have sent me threats of bodily harm due to badly-stifled hysterical laughter at 3am.

THAT'S ALL FOR NOW MORE STORIES WILL BE ADDED AS THEY OCCUR!

SMALL DISCLAIMER: I'm a full-time working writer and my fanfic is something I give away for free out of love. Please don't copy, alter, plagiarize, feed to AI in any form, fold, spindle, or mutilate. I'm not in the market for concrit, but if you like my stories please feel free to leave me a comment/kudo, download/print/fanbind for personal use, or let other readers know!

#trigun #vashwood #trigun fanfic #tnk fic #trigun '98 #trigun maximum #trigun stampede

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oshamirweek · 5 months ago

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Further details on Oshamir Week Prompts

Here are some further explanations on what each of the daily prompts entails (full text below the cut). If you have any other questions feel free to ask and we'll do our best to answer.

Day 1 - Canonverse AU: Works for this prompt should take place in the Star Wars universe but change something (or many things) from The Acolyte canon. Some exmaples include: Sith!Osha and Jedi!Qimir; neither were Jedi; Qimir meets Osha first; Osha never leaves the coven; etc. This includes all things considered canon divergence.

Day 2 - Legends & Lore: Works for this prompt can draw inspiration from myths, folklore, and fairytales from any culture or media! This includes re-imaginings of Greek mythology, Filipino folklore, and classic fairytales like Beauty and the Beast. This is probably a theme where artists and editors can really go wild. We can't wait to see what you'll create!

Day 3 - Bonds: Works for this prompt should include concepts such as arranged marriage, soulmates, reincarnation, prophecies, the red string of fate, etc. Force dyads can also fall into this category. Another name for this theme could be 'Fate/Destiny'.

Day 4 - Free Day: Free Day is for all fanworks that do not fall into any of the other six themes of Oshamir Week. Please do not post any works for 'The Dark Side', 'Fantasy', or 'Earth AU', on this day.

Day 5 - The Dark Side: Works for this day include the darker (and sadder) side of our emotions and favourite tropes. Jealousy, betrayal, possessiveness, as well as forbidden love, mind control, tragic endings: all fall under this category. Dubious consent, brainwashing, somnophilia, captor/captured, etc. should be posted on this day. Dead doves and dark subject matter are all permitted, just be sure to tag accordingly!

Day 6 - Fantasy: This theme includes any fantasy or supernatural elements such as magic, vampires, angels and demons, zombies, dragons, monsters, etc. Some elements may overlap with Legends & Lore, in which case you can post on either day. A Royalty AU with magical elements would post on this day. Works based on other fantasy media would also post on this day.

Day 7 - Earth AU: Any modern or historical AU will fall under this day's theme. This includes any works that place during the Victorian era, Regency era, Tang dynasty, Joseon era, etc., as well as university AU, coffee shop AU, athletes AU, and others. Works invoking dark academia or Gothic atmosphere would also fall under this day.

#rules #oshamir week #oshamir #osha x qimir #qimir #qimir x osha #the acolyte #star wars #osha aniseya #the stranger

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fang-and-feather · 6 months ago

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Summer Storm

Ikemen Vampire - Napoleon x Female Reader

This is a kind of AU, where Napoleon got reincarnated instead of becoming a vampire. It had some more plot, but I repurposed most of it for a more fitting scene for after this fic.

The ending is not much to my taste, but it felt right and flows well into the following plot

Written for the Sexy Ikemen Summer event by @xxsycamore, Location: Abandoned mansion, Technique: Forgo underwear on the date

Words: 2,525

Summary: You and Napoleon take a detour on your honeymoon plans for the day, only to find yourself trapped in the old mansion by a sudden summer storm. While waiting for the weather to clear, the two of you decide to pass time in the most appropriate manner for a honeymoon.

Tags: Oral Sex (female receiving), Teasing, Getting Caught, Accidental Exibitionism, Modern Setting

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

You roamed the hallways of the old mansion. Besides the heavy coating of dust and the wild grass outside, this place didn’t even look like it had been abandoned for a few decades, but the thundering of the sudden summer storm that started short after your improvised guides left made it seem creepy, anyway.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll be able to call a taxi from here.” Your husband spoke, looking at his phone, that probably had no signal. You checked yours. Nothing either. “It might be just a passing storm. Do you want to wait and see if it will pass, or should we try to brave it and get back to the city?”

“I would rather not lose our food in this weather. We can wait until lunch and if it doesn’t pass, we try to get to a place with better signal. I think the only reason people lived all the way out here is because they didn’t have phones.”

“Or because they were vampires.”

By his tone alone, you knew Napoleon was not serious, but you still caught your thoughts lingering on what your guide had told you, about how her grandmother had once worked in this mansion for a comte, under a name that seemed to pop in an out of history, in a way that legends about him being immortal and a vampire started to spread.

You didn’t even know if the original, legendary comte was real, and the one that woman’s grandmother worked for was certainly a different person.

“That’s probably just a rich people thing.” You shrugged. “Even if you wanted to believe in vampires, what about the other guys? In our times, by the curious collection of names, it would make sense for them to be, too. But over a century ago, it didn’t.”

“I’m just joking, nunuche.” Napoleon laughed, ruffling your hair.

“I know. Or I would have to believe you are the Emperor himself, too.”

Both of you laughed. It wasn’t unusual for this kind of joke to be brought up between the two of you, whenever Napoleon did something that made you think he was living up to his name. Or from the kids from the school he taught at.

Maybe it was this eerie atmosphere that had you entertaining such notions as vampires.

You went through a few more rooms, listening to Napoleon talk about a few other rumors he’d heard, on that first day you had some late things to work on and he went out to surprise you by finding a good place for dinner.

Why was it that your only time apart during the whole honeymoon trip had been so eventful for him?

Then something caught your eye, and a shiver ran through your spine, Napoleon’s voice growing distant.

There was something weird about the huge double doors that made you halt. You had seen a similar door on your previous trip to Paris, at the Louvre. You remembered, because you were curious about it. It was obvious the visitors didn’t go through it often, as nobody else paid it any attention, but it also wasn’t a restricted room, as it wasn’t guarded.

You remembered well the glimpse of the hallway with its artifacts, but before you could go through, Napoleon called out to you and you decided to go see what he wanted, and you never really went back.

Now you were seeing the same door, in a very different place. A house said to be inhabited by an old vampire… and you remembered the gentleman you met at the Louvre that same day…

You let out a startled cry when strong arms wrapped around your waist, only for them to be followed by the laughter of your husband.

“Sorry nunuche. I realized you weren’t following me. Did you really let these stories get to you?”

“Maybe.” You laughed nervously at your own wild imagination. Just because it was a similar door didn’t mean they had anything to do with one another. And you weren’t even sure it looked the same, you might just be mixing the details. “It’s this rain giving everything creepy vibes.”

He hummed, tightening his hold on you.

“Well, we are alone and not going anywhere for a while. Why don’t I distract you from these vibes while we wait?”

Before you could ask what he meant, one of his hands had moved to caress your thigh, light touches that had you shivering in an entirely different way.

His lips descended upon your neck, tracing a path with open-mouthed kisses from the base up.

You tried to hold back your moans. Even knowing there was nobody around, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone would hear you.

But it was hard to keep your voice down with how Napoleon teased you, tracing random patterns up and down your thigh with ghostly touches, and never moving where you really wanted him.

You tried to close your legs to get some friction, but Napoleon moved one of his legs to between yours, halting your movements.

“Patience, mon amour. We’ll get there in a moment.” He whispered, before his mouth was on your neck again.

His kisses moved slowly to the side of your neck, and you tilted your head to give him better access.

Napoleon briefly pulled away to shift his position. The hand that had been around your waist moving to your other thigh, while the one that had been teasing you caressed up your arm, before carefully sliding the straps of your dress off your shoulders.

His kisses moved down to the junction of your neck, then Napoleon licked the spot, then kissed it again and his teeth grazed your skin.

Like a vampire teasing a prey. And you wouldn’t mind if he really was one.

When he nibbled on your skin, you couldn’t contain your moans anymore. He finally moved his hand up your thigh, at the same time his other hand aliped in the front of your dress, finding you completely bare for him.

The revelation gave him a brief pause before he chuckled, nibbling one of your ears.

“When have you become such a naughty girl, nunuche? Dressed like this in public.”

“Well, we weren’t planning to…” a moan escaped you as his hand returned to its exploration “...stay in public…” it was hard to keep your thoughts coherent, especially when his mouth returned to teasing your ear “and it is our honeymoon…” both of his hands moved to your sensitive spots, one lightly pinching one of your nipples, the other rubbing your clit “...I wanted to… surprise you…”

“Then you don’t mind if I indulge in your boldness, right?”

You whined as Napoleon stopped what he was doing, only for him to spin you around and, with a hand tangling in your hair and the other holding your waist, he kissed you.

He still tasted faintly of the ice cream you had on the way here, but in a warm way. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his, grinding your hips against the bulge in his pants.

Napoleon groaned into the kiss, and the hand on your waist slipped downward, under your dress again, groping your ass, before his other hand supported your back and he hoisted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Between kisses only broken long enough for you to take a breath, he carried you to the nearest room. He put you on the ground to shed his jacket, before pulling you tight against his body again, his hand returning to groping your ass and teasing your legs as he humped you.

When the two of you grew too breathless, Napoleon scooped you up and placed you sitting on a chair that apparently had been covered by his jacket to protect from the dust.

You finally took a deep breath, fanning yourself.

“Are we really doing this here?” You weren’t expecting more than the foreplay you were already in the process of. Maybe an actual handjob if you were willing to get off here.

Napoleon leaned over you, supporting his weight on the back of the chair. There wasn’t much light, but you could see him clearly in this position, and he looked like he could devour you.

You gulped and readjusted your dress, feeling even hotter than before, which you didn’t think possible.

“You don’t mind if I take a little treat before we can get back to the hotel, do you, ma douce reine?”

A surprisingly needy whine escaped you at the salacious way he made these words sound.

“I would mind if you didn’t.” You muttered back, diverting your gaze as soon as you did so.

Napoleon chuckled, tilting the chair back with one hand, while the other caressed your face, cupping your cheek as he leaned closer to give you a lingering, sweet kiss.

The chair was propped against the wall as he moved to kiss a path down your jaw, your neck and the exposed top of your breasts, where he lingered long enough on one to leave a hickey over each.

Then the chair was gently lowered back to the floor, as he dropped to one knee before you.

The mood had changed so quickly from wild to romantic. Not that you were complaining as he hiked your skirt up and gently parted your legs, placing a reverent kiss to the side of a knee. You hummed, running your fingers through his bi-colored hair.

“You know” he placed another kiss up your leg, “I’m glad our excursion got interrupted.” Another kiss, and his hand caressing your lower leg. “The rest of the excursion… would have been harsh… on both of us… with you looking… like this.” He spoke, alternating words with kisses, higher every time, until you thought he would reach the spot you were waiting for, only for him to switch to giving your other leg the same treatment.

His touch might not be teasing anymore, but that didn’t keep him from gently teasing you still. The wait was almost maddening, with how your desire ached within you, but any movement you tried to make his hand was there to casually stop you.

“Napoleon…” you tried to complain, but it came out as more of a moan when he gently bit your thigh.

“I will get there, chérie.” Napoleon pulled away enough to look up at you. “If you keep trying to hurry me, I don’t think I will be able to control myself. I’ll just have this until we get back.”

You rarely minded if he lost control, but maybe here was not the best place for it to happen. You still got a strange sense from this house.

“What about you?”

“Making my wife happy is enough for me.” He grinned. “For now.”

Napoleon knelt down properly and pulled you a little forward to get better access.

The featherlight kiss first placed on your clit was already electrifying, your body shuddered and you tried to thrust against his mouth, once again impossibility by him holding you in place.

The kiss was followed by a slow lick that had you moaning even louder than before. Your hand tangled in his hair again, holding him closer, and you were rewarded by his lips wrapping around your clit and his teasing tongue brushing against it in a lighter manner. And then repeated that, again and again, almost like tickling you.

He talked about losing control in a place like this, but if he kept teasing, you would be the one who would have to take charge of the situation, and it certainly wouldn’t stop at this if you did.

“I… thought you said… we didn’t… have time.”

You pulled him closer, and he responded by sucking at you, then licking again, but not in that playful manner. Napoleon was serious now, and you would probably regret pressing him for it here, when you would have to walk after.

You shivered and straightened up when his teeth dragged over your clit, making you squirm and tighten your hold on him. Napoleon groaned and redoubled his efforts to rob you of all reason.

It wouldn’t take much effort at all. Not when you were at the mercy of the man you loved. Not with his amazing skills. And especially not when he had teased you to your limit already.

Napoleon knew that, and soon his hand joined his mouth in attacking your sensitive spots. You were so ready for it, that a couple of fingers slipped into you with ease, moving in and out a few times, before curling up to rub the spot he knew that, especially combined with the sucking of his mouth, would make you see stars and scream his name.

And scream you did, totally forgetting yourself to the pleasure that intensified, coursing through you like an electric current, sending you into an explosive climax.

But he didn’t give you much time to come down from your high, hand and mouth switching spots as he licked you clean, while still massaging your clit with deft fingers.

In the haze of pleasure, you thought you heard a sound in the distance, but it barely registered in your mind as your husband drove you towards a second orgasm.

The second time caught just a bit more of your attention, just enough for you to cast a glance at the door and see a glint in the little light there was in the hallway. Maybe a glimpse of someone folding their sunglasses before it disappeared, probably being put away.

There was a brief thought in your mind of stopping Napoleon, even before the shadow blocked the faint illumination of the room. Even when your half-lidded eyes caught a glimpse of a pair of blue ones taking in the sight of you. And Napoleon, his eyes closed and focus on your pleasure, didn’t notice a thing.

You had heard stories from daring friends getting caught and how it immediately ruined the mood. That’s what you thought should happen. That was not what was happening.

You threw your head back, letting out a loud moan as your clit was lightly pinched, then another as you were brought to a new climax, despite the weird circumstances.

You feared Napoleon’s reaction when he realized the situation you were in, but he remained oblivious to it and seemed ready to continue his assault on you, so you had to stop him.

Before you could do so, though, the figure at the door finally spoke.

“As much as I would love to continue watching the show, you shouldn’t be here, should you?”

You blushed, adjusting the top of your dress and immediately closing your legs as Napoleon stood up, startled.

When you thought about going after some new emotions on your honeymoon, this was not what you had in mind. It would have been better if this place wasn’t empty from the start, even haunted or inhabited by vampires, than being caught in such an embarrassing situation. And the realization that, deep down, you didn’t hate it at all.

Tag List: @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles, @bicayaya

@eventinelysplayground, @queengiuliettafirstlady

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

#sexy ikemen summer #sexy ikemen summer cc #ikemen vampire #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp #fanfiction #ikevamp fanfic #ikevamp smut

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vashwood-week · 10 months ago

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Vashwood Week 2024 will be running from May 26th-June 1st!

Day 1 / May 26th: Childhood / Partners In Crime / Werewolf AU Day 2 / May 27th: Protection / Trust / Bodyguard AU Day 3 / May 28th: Saviour / Martyr / Reincarnation AU Day 4 / May 29th: Blood / Flowers / Role Swap AU Day 5 / May 30th: Traitor / Mercy / Angel AU Day 6 / May 31st: Forgiveness / Guilt / Timeloop AU Day 7 / June 1st: T4T / Free Space

(Huge thanks to @nebulaleaf for the phenomenal graphic!)

Thank you to everyone who filled out the interest check! With your input, we have decided to run from May 26th through June 1st, incorporating some of the many wonderful prompt suggestions received via the form.

When the time comes, please tag all entries with [ # Vashwood Week ] and [ # Vashwood Week 2024 ] in order to be promoted. In addition to this, please @ MENTION THIS BLOG in all entries so that I can see and boost your work.

I will be putting a copy of our guidelines below the cut, but you can find those and more written up on our carrd so please check that out if you need a refresher.

If you're not going to stick around for those, thank you for your time! I will be posting about the week in the days leading up to it, so stay tuned for that and happy Vashwooding!

⟡ For the mod's own personal comfort, any works featuring topics of non-consent, incest, and pedophilia will not be promoted.

⟡ NSFW content will be allowed so long as it is tagged appropriately. Pieces without adequate tagging will not be promoted.

⟡ Additionally, NSFW entries should have SFW thumbnails or blurring in order to get promoted by the account.

⟡ At the risk of stating the obvious, NSFW entries created by anyone under the age of 18 will NOT be accepted and will NOT be promoted. Any minor who tries to submit NSFW will be blocked, for their own safety more than anything.

⟡ The focus of this event will be the celebration of Vash and Wolfwood's romantic relationship; as such, entries featuring them in romantic relationships with other members of the cast will not be promoted. Past relationship stuff is fine, but please keep the focus on Vashwood.

⟡ In accordance with the above bullet, the mod also will not be promoting content focusing on the platonic relationship between Vash and Wolfwood. However, queer-platonic content will be allowed and promoted.

⟡ All forms of contribution will be accepted, be that visual art, writing, edits, playlists, cosplay, etc. However, all work submitted MUST be your own. There will be a zero-tolerance policy for plagiarism and if it is found that you are passing off anyone's work as your own, you will be blocked by all affiliated accounts and disqualified from participating.

⟡ Works created with the use of AI will not be promoted.

⟡ Late entries will be accepted indefinitely, even after the week has ended, so feel free to use the prompts to their fullest extent even if you aren't able to participate during the week itself!

⟡ This event is meant to be fun! Please do not bully, harass, or disparage any of the other participants. If it is discovered that you are doing so, you will be blocked and disqualified from participating.

⟡ All kinds of queer and trans headcanons will be accepted for this event. All forms of bigotry are absolutely not allowed and if it is discovered that a participant is harassing others on the basis of LGBTQ+ headcanons... well, you know what goes here.

Regarding the last bullet, please keep in mind that the "T4T" prompt does not specify any specific kind of transness, meaning that works featuring transfem, intersex, nonbinary, etc headcanons may be featured or even prevalent in entries. I ask that we make a specific effort to prevent the normalisation of transmisogyny in fandoms and be supportive of all different headcanons.

Thank you again for the support and we look forward to seeing what you create!

#vashwood #trigun #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun stampede #trigum maximum #vashwood week #vashwood week 2024 #funny little joke i have with myself #whenever i say 'we' in these posts #and is the 'we' in the room with us lmao #special thanks to everyone who commented supportively about my boundaries regarding the specific kind of content i will be promoting #for this event specifically #EVERYBODY is allowed to participate #regardless of what is on their portfolios #but for me personally i can only interact with certain things #so i appreciate the understanding #i hope we can all have a lovely drama free week come may~

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zlobonessa · 3 months ago

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hi-i-wrote-a-thing-for-a-fanweek. day one — memories (although it also fits heroes from day 3 and alternative universe from day 6 so we can pretend I'm not extra late). anyway it's reincarnation/modern au emijulisuba where julius tries archeology and finds it very thoughts-inducing. it's also on ao3 but not translated. enjoy.

Julius doesn't particularly expect his application to be approved: an email titled "Re: Volunteers for excavations" finds him in the process of drafting a loose idea of his diploma topic for the next academic year, with a third glass of white-chocolate-and-lavender iced coffee and almost zero thoughts related to archaeology. That prevents him neither from nearly flooding the laptop with lavender-white liquid while making an incomprehensible sound in the middle of a cafe nor from packing up his things that exact day and buying a ticket to a luxury train compartment to Pristella.

When the raging greenery of the Red Sun peak sweeps past the window, he is overtaken by — the smell of clothes fresh out of the laundry and hand cream for sensitive skin, the hum of students and the clatter of thousands of keyboard keys, an oversugared pastry from the cafeteria, columns of calculations in front of his eyes, a discussion of master's courses — the question is: what is he even doing?

Objectively speaking, this is a good question.

Objectively speaking, this is a very good question, and Julius pushes it as deep as possible into the depths of his brain, drowns it out with the sound of wheels hitting the rails, crushes it with the weight of bags on his back, and suffocates it with the smells of dust and cigarettes from Priestella central station. By the time he frowns and tries to force his mind to merge the two-dimensional directions of the navigator in the phone with the three-dimensional chaos of the city, the question goes almost quiet.

Almost.

It must be said, the navigator is of little use. Before even boarding the train, Julius firmly rejected the idea of calling a taxi to the train station: how could you do excavations in a city that you refuse to see? He had to admit that by the eighth missed turn this thought lost some of its freshness.

(Trying to spot a noticeable supermarket from the map, he almost slams into a pillar covered with ads and vulgar stickers, and, dodging this unpleasant fate, miraculously avoids a collision with a scooter rushing at full speed — and for some reason, disappointment wakes up in his chest with unexpected force and for no particular reason. It even leaves him standing in disbelief for a few seconds: the depth of it is so strange and painful, like a cut wound.)

But, as they say, all's well that ends well.

"As they say, all's well that ends well," laughs Anastasia, the head of the excavations and a leading archaeologist, Julius searched the internet for her name: her field of study is Alec Hoshin, and the period of the foundation of Kararagi. "Ya haven't fallen into the canals, have ya? There were cases, I had to send them home. The water there isn't especially clean, wouldn't advise taking a sip."

Julius winces involuntarily, trying to overcome the wave of disgust. Anastasia studies him closely.

"How did ya end up here even?" she asks, kind of jokingly, casually, to keep up the conversation, but the depth of her gaze is a tell: she is serious. This is a type of question the answer to which determines the future — the type of question that, as his uncle explained, should be met with the best answer of all you have.

Julius replies:

"I don't know. "

The sunlight pours onto a roped-off piece of ground where they form a crowded circle — more like a square, sure, but that's not what matters. Julius's knees go weak, and he suddenly feels like a little rascal again, not taught to respect his elders. How can they stand over how — many centuries of history?

"It's nice to see everyone so captivated — and without a single swing of the shovel, wow," Anastasia laughs, and her voice rings with pride. "At this very place, four hundred and twenty years ago, one of the fights that decided the course of the battle for Priestella happened. Great timing, right? Everyone studied the battle for the Priestella at school, I hope, yea, I know, such a busy historical period, so many names, so many dates, but on the anniversary occasion, it doesn't hurt to refresh your memory. By the way, everyone remembers the briefing, I hope?"

The job — predictably enough — turns out to be dirty. There is something fascinating even about how quickly Julius gets covered in mud: he expected the gloves to lose their white in a matter of minutes, but the knees and elbows come as a surprise. Under the afternoon sun, a thick and sticky layer of sweat appears on his face, which, as Julius quickly realizes, should not be wiped with a dirty sleeve (and the decision not to cut the hair on his forehead begins to seem somewhat questionable), several times he has to push out the grains of sand gotten into his mouth with his tongue, his palm takes the shape of the handle of a trowel, and a sharp pebble gets into his shoe.

It's definitely not what he's used to—but when he looks at himself, covered in earth from head to toe, somewhere in his memory a thread stretches.

Maybe... no.

Father: in the middle of a garden black with moisture, planting seedlings in dirty old clothes and suddenly noticing Julius on the porch — he straightens up, waves at him, and smiles broadly.

That's what this memory is about.

"So this is what happens to children who were not allowed to play in the sandbox," a familiar voice is heard from the side when Julius takes a short break to get out of the excavation and do shoulder exercises. "I almost didn't believe my eyes. Would never have thought that you were capable of getting your hands dirty — like, on a physical level, I thought you would howl and turn into dust, you know, like a low-level monster from..."

"Subaru! It's very, veeery mean to say that!"

"That is, you agree with the content, but you are not satisfied with the presentation? Ha! Heard that, huh?

Sighing, Julius turns around.

"Subaru," glances from a t-shirt with a stupid print to a ribbon with flowers woven into a braid, "Emilia, what an unexpected meeting. Glad to see you."

Is he glad? He is not entirely honest, and this is gnawing at him: it is unfair to treat good friends like this, especially from the university where he will return in the Yellow-Sun anyway, but an obscure annoyance rises in his chest. As if they had done something wrong — as if they had...

Although — he does has the right reason for that.

"But what are you doing here?"

"Hey, hey, are you pointing fingers?!"

"We are here on vacation! T-together, that is. "

"E-emilia-tan!"

Julius allows himself a restrained — and maybe slightly teasing — smile.

"Is that so? Have a good time. But I meant," having lost the internal struggle, he stoops to the Subaru level and points his finger at where they are all standing, "right here. Outsiders are not allowed to enter the excavation area."

Subaru blushes rapidly and amusingly:

"Eh! .. is that so... oh."

"Oh," Julius nods, with the most serious face possible.

"Truly — oh!" Emilia gasps, also blushing. "Julius, we are so sorry!.. Subaru, you said we were positively definitely going the right way this time!"

"We were! — Subaru retorts, but the fire is lost. — Up until some point."

"I'm sorry again, we're already leaving, I hope we didn't break anything important!" Emilia shouts as she walks, pulling Subaru by the sleeve with the tenacity of a bulldozer: it's amusing to observe, for fairness' sake. Just before disappearing behind the corner, she turns for a second:

"Just in case, we will be glad to meet and have a chat sometime!"

And so she leaves.

The work is completed late in the evening, and the way to the three-and-a-half-star hotel is illuminated by the stars studying in the grayishly blue sky — and streetlights, of course. Fortunately, there are no channels lost in the dark on the way, but a hospital with a flickering sign comes across — which, he supposes, is rather convenient, but his insides get turned out by the urge to write to Joshua, which is ridiculous: it will ruin his sleeping schedule, and he was also so upset that he couldn't go with Julius, and so sincerely wished him to have a good time, and write to him now... Julius suppresses this urge firmly and even walks a few meters further with something like enthusiasm.

Each step, however, turns out to be harder than the past, his back and arms ache, the taste of dirt pervades his mouth, fatigue fills his bones with lead-like heaviness, and he can only hope for...

Well, it sure was a stupid hope.

A few days ago — when Julius, having found the hotel closest to the excavation site, patiently hung on the phone for twenty minutes, waiting for someone who could book him a room because he abandoned trying to figure out the interface of their sprawling website half an hour later — he had something like a romantic idea about a hidden underappreciated charm of small things in small hotels that the general public is picky about. Not that Julius had stayed in them previously: his uncle and aunt were meticulous about vacation planning and did not skimp on money, but the impeccable and faceless sterility of the five-star hotels they chose always repelled him. There had to be some kind of homeyness, he supposed. Some kind of soul, no matter how sentimental it sounds.

The lobby of the hotel he chose smells sickeningly of varnish, at the reception he is warned that there will be no hot water for the next three days, and the cold water in the shower barely hanging on the wall turns out to be rusty, dark spots appear on the ceiling on old wallpaper, and without glasses it is impossible to make out if it is mold, the wind is blowing from under the window frame, and this bed has probably the most uncomfortable mattress that Julius has ever lain on, and it doesn't help his back at all.

People tend to significantly embellish their fantasies about a way of life that they have never led, his uncle once said a long time ago. He didn't tell Julius this, Julius shouldn't have heard it at all, and it turned out otherwise almost by accident, and strictly speaking, he wasn't talking about his father, but Julius knew, knew that he meant his father, and even now this memory could ignite an unbearable heat in his chest and eyes.

But was his uncle wrong?

Julius has never expressed a desire to get a degree in history. He himself was aware of the absurdity of this idea: it was just a stupid childhood dream, pure fiction, sometimes floating through his subconscious when he allowed himself to entertain thoughts about some completely different reality with completely different circumstances. Here and now, someone had to inherit the family business, and Joshua would not be able to bear it, scientists are paid pennies, the work is thankless, and does he truly want to waste his talents digging in the ground?

Does he want to?

What is he even doing?

"Now you can't dodge the question," mumbles Subaru through a full mouth: Julius winces, and he makes a face in response, but swallows with effort and noise, allowing all patrons to watch a huge lump of food moving down his throat. "Spill the tea, why are you here, are you lost or something?"

The cafe on the corner where they squeezed in is small, but thankfully they managed to successfully occupy the seats. A cozy place that successfully combines the influence of Kararagi and Lugunika, with garlands, a chalkboard for customers — Subaru has already managed to write "E + S = ♡" there — an artificial tree in the middle of the room and paper lamps. The perfect cafe for the perfect "vibes" in photos for social media. Julius had spent many hours in places like these, typing his essays.

But now he can't get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth - he can't shake the thought: what was here a few centuries ago?

(He can’t help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu when he closes his eyes: as if he had already sat here once, meeting Emilia and Subaru, and the air between them was still filled with something unspoken.)

Pretending to be unperturbed, however, he shrugs:

"I've always wanted to participate in excavations."

"Boring answer," Subaru snaps. "Come up with something better."

Carefully sipping his coffee—caramel cream latte—Julius raises his eyebrows at him:

"What, lie?"

Subaru rolls his eyes:

"Who in their right mind will go to study management when they have at least some hobby more interesting than cramming the most effective formulas for sorting spreadsheets?"

"Someone has to sort the spreadsheets, Subaru," Emilia remarks. The barista drew a kitten on the foam of her coffee: she thoughtfully twirls a straw in her hands, trying to figure out a way to drink without spoiling the drawing. "And Julius is doing a great job at it."

It is easy for Julius to imagine his future life: many, many spreadsheets filled with numbers.

"Thank you, Emilia," he says tersely. Trying to deflect the conversation from himself, he strikes back: "And why did you decide to go to Priestella?"

Subaru is blushing again. The color floods on his face in a single wave. The skin from the forehead to the neck is all the same shade, so thick that it feels like an invitation to dip a brush into a soft cheek and paint a sunset landscape.

"Well, I mean, why not here? The city is beautiful, the weather is warm, and there's water here... And the atmosphere is like, you know!... Such... Very... yeah.

Julius gives him a knowing grin. Subaru hunched his shoulders, sending him a vicious look from under his brows.

"Subaru!" Emilia snorts into her glass of coffee — a blush rises on her cheeks and spreads gently to the tips of her ears — and the drawing distorts. She looks at it upset. "Well, there you go. "

Sadness, however, does not remain on her face for long: sighing, she takes a sip of coffee and, having tasted it, squints with satisfaction.

"But the city is reaaally very, very beautiful," she agrees, and her words reach Julius with a slight delay. "So... a little magical, I don’t even know how to explain it. You know, you come here for the first time, and it feels like... like you’ve finally returned. We left the station, on the other side, remember, where the old buildings and the arch are, and I looked at them and I... it probably sounds absurd, but it felt like I recognized them, although I’ve never even been here in my life! As if they were waiting for me. Dreamlike, right? ...Do you know what I mean?

Julius doesn't immediately find the strength to nod and smile casually.

"Generally speaking, all the records we have about the battle for Priestella are incomplete and contradictory," says Anastasia, sitting right on the ground with a kind of simplicity that shows a habit. The excavation opens right at her knees, bathed in the evening dawn, and sometimes her gaze slips from the volunteers nearby to the ground that looks like a sliced layer cake. "Most sources of that time explain everything around them as witchcraft and magic, and it is extremely difficult to make out what actually happened, and in our case, we are talking about a clash of religious fanatics with the knights of Lugunica — who, as I hope everyone remembers, were credited with powers of divine origin... "

"The Last of the Saints," Julius blurts out. Disapproving stares thrust into him, and a heat washes over his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to interrupt, I... have read about him, and... don't pay attention, please continue. "

But Anastasia doesn't seem upset at all — on the contrary, she snorts and nods gravely:

"What an educated young man, watch and learn! Yea, that's right. In those days, by the way, he was simply called the "The Sword Saint" — from what we know, it should be assumed that the title was inherited until it ceased to exist, and as to why — history, as they say, is silent. By the way, there is an interestin' moment connected with the battle for Pristella: some sources mention the presence of two Saints of the Sword in the city at once, the Last and his predecessor — while other sources claim that they died many years before! That's right, history is always a bit about being detectives. If ya are attracted ta a sense of mystery, then you have come to the right place, I will tell ya for sure."

"So what's the answer?" one of the volunteers, blonde and with a detached face, speaks up. Her name is Silver or something like that, Julius can't remember exactly. "Was that predecessor there or not?"

Anastasia laughs:

"And for a sense of the answer, unfortunately, your path lies in the exact sciences! Many scientists fought about that one, and all to no avail. And, mind ya, some," Anastasia leans forward, and a conspiratorial gleam appears in her eyes, "some scientists believe that the dynasty of Sword Saints never existed at all!"

“How is that possible?” Julius blurts out – again condemning glances, but he almost doesn’t care: for some reason, his chest hurts as if it was pierced by a rusty sword.

"It is what it is," Anastasia shrugs, clearly pleased with the effect. — "Primary sources are inconsistent, there's a complete lack of records after the beginning of the Golden Revolution, which, I remind you, was also a revolution in a cultural sense, the power of the holders of the status is clearly exaggerated many times and attributed to magical powers: the Last of the Saints, they say, could throw a man to the sun with his bare hands, which, you must admit, is incomprehensible! Many historians hold the position that the Sword Saints were a legend and served in fact as a collective image of outstanding warriors of that time. Who knows, here we are digging up the site of one of the fights of the Last of the Saints, and it can have nothing significant there at all — this happens!"

And through his tight trousers, Julius feels acutely every pebble digging into his legs. He wants to object — he wants to argue — he wants to refute, but the knowledge gap is opened up to him by an archaeological dig: he is not a scientist, not a historian, he is an amateur, a student who receives a bachelor's degree in management next Red Sun, but for some reason is tormented by his own foolishness and goes to excavations.

The contradiction in the story should be like an incorrectly written formula, corrected with a few clicks. Simple movements that reduce everything to flawlessly grounded mathematics.

"Not for the first time even: the discrepancies in the number of participants in this battle are especially significant," Anastasia continues mercilessly. "The Eucliuses, for example: one of the famous historical chronicles, written after the fact, claims that two descendants of the then famous knightly family of the Eucliuses participated in the battle, who in fact had no heirs at all! A very controversial chronicle, in fact: by all indirect signs, it is authentic, but at the same time the lexicon used in it for its time period is completely uncharacteristic — it is still a very big subject of debate. "The truest story about the adventures of the humble support of the great heroine Emilia", you can search it in your free time, it's a very funny read."

(Julius has read it. He has read it.)

It must be stupid: at the age of twenty-two, to believe in fairy tales.

Julius doesn't.

Just sometimes — just sometimes — he wanted so badly that it almost felt like a white cloak was fluttering on his shoulders, a sword was weighing down his hip, and magic, bright in taste and smelling of past rain, trembled in the air with the movement of his hand.

"Hey," Subaru's fingers snap in front of his face, "how's the weather at the cloud your head's now in?"

Julius almost stumbles over the asphalt with the toe of his boot. He freezes.

"Hm. I'm sorry, I was just thinking."

"You almost fell down the steps, you idiot," Subaru hisses. "Think less, that's not what your face is so pretty for."

Blinking, Julius realizes that Subaru is right: the stairs start right in front of him, the steps leading to the canal embankment.

"Julius has a very multitasking head, Subaru, it's not nice to say such nasty things," Emilia pokes Subaru's cheekbone with a finger, looking instructively: he blushes and sulks. Then she looks at Julius with a worried look: "But you really should be careful. You can get so perilously hurt like that!

"Who in the twenty-first century says "perilously"...

"People who read actual books, not just teen comics, I think," Julius can't help himself, and this time Emilia's stern gaze turns out to be directed at him:

"And you too don't tease, Subaru reads books! Sometimes."

"Sometimes?! What do you mean "sometimes", do I need to read a book a day?! Emilia-tan, only posers who skip every other word read books at that pace, and in class, they just spit on the ceiling, don't be fooled by this show-off!.."

Julius raises his hands in defeat:

"Okay, well, I'm sorry. I wasn't going to question your intellectual abilities, Subaru. Strictly speaking, with my schedule... I'm afraid I read books only sometimes too."

"Exactly," Subaru snorts, folding his arms over his chest, but his face looks satisfied. He looks at Julius with an inquisitive look: "Well, what were you thinking about, thinker?"

Julius shrugs helplessly. They continue their walk: a boat sweeps past them along the canal, and one of the passengers throws the can overboard.

"Well, just how can they be so completely unashamed?" Emilia shakes her head ruefully; she is enrolled in the university's environmental community, Julius recalls.

They’re complete pigs,” Subaru agrees; Julius once caught him in the cafeteria picking up a glass and wrappers that had fallen past the trash can from someone’s tray during the previous break.

"I don't really know what I'm even doing," Julius shares.

"Huh."

"What do you mean?"

Belatedly, Julius realizes what he has said. They say that in the old days, the knights cut out their tongues when they realized that outrageous nonsense had come out of their mouths — it would be worth reviving this tradition, probably.

"Anyway, haha, never mind, don't worry about it, just some nonsense on my mind," he quickly tries to reduce the damage. It doesn't work - he can see it in their eyes that it doesn't work.

"Julius, what kind of nonsense can you have in your head?" With her eyebrows drawn together and her lips pursed, Emilia looks at him with pleading pity. "And if there is nonsense, then there is especially no need to keep it there since it needs to be released. What happened?"

"There are limits to perfection, huh?" Subaru tsks and twitches the corner of his mouth, then winces, looking at him with serious seriousness. "Come on, tell us."

"Nothing special, really, I'm sorry to bother you... " Julius sighs. "I study management. Instead of writing a draft diploma, I'm here in Priestella, digging in the ground. This is illogical. You're right. That's all."

"You like history," Emilia points out. "In my first year, you explained to me the entire genealogy of Astrea with an exact chronology."

"Eh?! And where I was at the time?"

"You hadn't transferred to us yet."

"Approximately the exact chronology, Emilia. I like history, but..." his lips crease involuntarily and tightly, "on an unprofessional level. There will be no career from this. This is childish at this point. "

"God, you sound like an old man. It's going to happen to me at twenty-two, too, huh?"

"Subaru!"

—Subaru," Julius finds the strength to just shake his head and doesn't even try too hard to hide his smile. "I... like history for... selfish reasons, I guess. Astrea... All those people... they went down in history for doing something important. Significant. Noticeable. No one remembers people for using the most optimal way to sort spreadsheets."

"Wow, you sure know how to cling to words."

"Learning from the best."

"So the point is that you want to go down in history, Julius?" Emilia looks into his face with her usual caring expression, and embarrassment fires up in his cheeks:

"Hmm," he pulls on the strands on his forehead, hoping to draw attention away from the skin tone, "with the way you said it, I look, perhaps, somewhat vain..."

"Well, you can't hide a cat in the bag... " Subaru parodies his gesture by twirling the short hair sticking out of his own hairstyle around his finger. "Hey, hey, Emilia, these are your words!"

"No, no, it's all right," Julius prevents Emilia's educational lesson that hangs in the air. "I really was quite arrogant as a child. I always dreamed of world fame... I don’t envy my family back then, to be honest. No, I didn’t want to become a great actor, or a great singer, or a great blogger, Subaru, thank you for your opinion,” this time he gets ahead of Subaru’s facial expression. “I wanted to be a great scientist — so that people like you could draw a mustache on my photo in textbooks, I guess.”

"Blatant slander! I have never been involved in spoiling public property in my life, I wasn't raised like that. "

"I'll try to believe it. But no, now I think I'm mature enough to realize that I'm not cut out for fame. I'm not that outstanding. "

"Julius!" Emilia gasps. "Don't say that, you're very, very talented, and smart, and handsome..."

I appreciate the support, but...” Julius purses his lips, “well, that’s the objective truth.”

Subaru stares at him for a long time in disbelief.

“I’d like to give you a good punch,” he drawls dreamily. “Why is it that you all have such bad self-esteem, huh? No matter who you poke, everyone thinks they were admitted to the university by mistake, but in reality, they belong under the fence. A-grade students! That’s so stupid.”

Now Emilia is looking at Subaru intently.

"The pot calling the kettle black, Subaru."

"Eh?! Eh, eh, don't drag me into this! I'm just, well, a foreign student!!"

Palms ache. Julius does not immediately realize the cause: his own nails dig into the skin.

"Have you ever thought about what will happen after death?"

"Julius, are you all right? If anything, I remember the suicide hotline number, just ask!"

"Well, I don't think a bore like you will go to hell if that's what you're talking about."

"No, I mean... in, say, a year. Five years. Decades. Centuries. Self-absorbed, I know, but I'm thinking about it more and more often — what will remain after me? What the fact that I lived, that I got this diploma, and finally went to these damned excavations can even change? Will anyone — anything — remember me at all?"

He stops — no, not even like that. Some unknown force is pulling him to stop, only there are no unknown forces in this world, and it must be all about Julius's subconscious, his treacherous subconscious, pulling him to search for something that does not exist.

The control tower stands in the middle of kiosks, cafes, bicycle parking, and crowds of tourists. Julius had read about them on the internet, in a scant article that omitted many details: an ancient mechanism once built to control the water level. Over time, it was replaced with modern technologies, and the towers were planned to be demolished — but after the protests were left as a monument.

It would be better if they were demolished, Julius thinks and is horrified by his own thoughts, but he cannot get rid of them. In the midst of the triumph of the twenty-first century, the building looks ugly. Out of place.

"Sometimes I like to imagine that I was born at the wrong time. Just like... this city, for example. He doesn't belong to modernity, have you noticed? It was built as an ambush for monsters — no one expected it to stand until the moment when we call them fairy tales." A queasy feeling spreads through the body. As if his skin was covered with saliva, sticky and viscous, smelling disgusting, and not even washing off with tar soap — even if you rip it off, because there is no more point in it. "I understand, though, that it is ambition that speaks in me. In the past, I would probably have disappeared from people's memory just as easily."

He imagines it clearly: the white cloak falling into a canal and dissolving in the water. Like in that video with the raccoon and cotton candy that Subaru once insistently showed him.

...Yes, Subaru really has a bad effect on his thought processes.

The culprit of the ridiculous associations examines his face with extreme skepticism.

"You're such an idiot. Like you can be forgotten so easily!" His index finger points accusingly at Julius's shoulder. "I can't forget your pretentious face even in my sleep, does that seem forgettable?!"

"Subaru-Subaru... That's just his way of comforting, don't get mad," Emilia hurriedly explains. "But you know, when everyone around knows your name, it's not always good. You don't even know what they're saying about you until it's too late, and then..." She bites her lip and shakes her head. "Your name will remain in history, but you will not recognize yourself in it. Isn't it better to do good just like that, without expecting fame in return? After all, the world gets a little better with every good deed — what do you need a personal signature for every change?"

Julius feels unbearably ashamed.

"I don't need it, of course. I'm just trying to say... Ordinary acts of kindness are not so significant... Hm, no, absolutely not, it sounded terrible, forget it, please. I probably want to say... after all, everyone can do them."

Emilia's lips form a bitter smile.

"But not everyone does."

Standing on tiptoes, she puts her hands on his shoulders—carefully, as if Julius is made of the most fragile glass—and pulls him into her arms.

A gurgle comes from Subaru's throat. Julius is afraid that now he will be pushed into the canal, but instead — the sounds do not stop — he is gently patted on the back.

"Don't try to save the world all at once, guys," Emilia says softly into his shirt.

Subaru lets out a laugh, nervous and inexplicable to Julius. He, however, wants to repeat it.

A cooing, pitiful sound begins in Emilia's chest. Her hot lips press against Julius somewhere behind his ear.

(And this is how the chronicle is written in the stars: that night, Julius does not return to the hotel. It feels like a a half-forgotten journey, made anew years later, where the unfamiliar becomes recognizable in one moment — where, a second before the hands intertwine, a non-existent old touch tickles and tears under the skin — and at the moment of contact everything comes together, as if a contradiction resolves. Perhaps this is the most historical of it all; perhaps humanity is connected to each other through the centuries by the clutch of hands.)

(And this is how the chronicle is written in the stars: in the "E + S = ♡" on a cafe chalkboard a narrowed "+ J" gets squeezed in.)

In the slow interval between day and dusk, when the sun has not yet touched the edge of the horizon, but its light reaches an evening viscosity of spilled honey, Julius's shoe — stepping on the cultural layer of the fifteenth century that was going to be left untouched — crunches an earring, and the heel sticks into the skull.

The entire skeleton is dug out faster than one might think, and with a tremulous reverence that suddenly makes Julius's chest ache: no matter how close they look, there are no remains of the coffin, no tombstone with a name, or any other trace of the grave. The tattered clothes on him are so torn that you can't tell the century they are from — but through them, you can see broken bones, dozens and hundreds, as if someone — of unprecedented strength — beat him for hours, crushed him with a huge boulder, or maybe dropped him from a great height.

"Come on, come on," Anastasia mutters, hastily flipping through the notes on her phone. "Museums will snatch up a find like this, I can tell it!"

Bending over the bones with a brush and an awl to clean the stuck soil, Julius feels inappropriately happy. He tries hard to convince himself that his eyes are watering from the setting sun.

#re zero #rzs3fanweek #my writing #emijulisuba

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snailsgoingdowntown · 22 days ago

Text

Help, I reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

Chapter 4

1 2 3 5 6 7 8

'Slight' Yandere! Dion Agriche x Reader

Arranged marriage AU

SOME SPOILERS FROM THE NOVEL ABOUT JEREMY'S MOM

Warnings: possible slight yandere themes, slight incestual themes due to the content of “Roxana”, implied toxic marriage/relationship, slightly suggestive, implied suicide, slight themes of jealousy, mention of murder, vomit, Reader is a fangirl for Roxana, everyone is out of character I gave up in trying to keep them in character completely, Possible slight possessive themes, and maaayyybbee implied stalking. It’ll make more sense as the series goes on.

DISCLAMIER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT REBLOG FAN ART OR FANFICTION DNI. PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE MY POSTS.

Overall chapter summary: Dinner with your husband felt suffocating… and why did Jeremy and Roxana show up? Why is your younger brother-in-law acting so weird all of a sudden…

Word count: 3086k

===

You didn’t dream about anything. You don’t even feel rested.

So, of course, Hana decided to cake your face in foundation to hide the dark circles under your eyes. How thoughtful, truly. Although, it would have been more thoughtful of her if she lied and said you were sick. But no, instead you’re grabbing onto the bed post as she tightens the corset.

Your organs are being squeezed to death and you bite your tongue, not willing to scream bloody murder. It wasn’t a pride thing, you promise – you just didn’t want to look too weak in front of anyone in this household. You didn’t want to be looked down on too much.

“Gah!”

“I’m sorry, my lady. Hm…” Hana ponders over something before saying, “I’ll loosen it. Just a bit.” And as she said she loosens the strings. Just enough to where your organs weren’t squashed together. You release a breath once you gain some breathing room.

God, please, have some pity and let Dion stand me up… and for no-one else to join me. Please, please, please!

You beg internally. The best outcome would be for one-one to show up. The worst…Lant, Maria and or Fontaine decide to, antagonizing you. Yeah, you think. Maybe Dion showing up wasn’t the worst.

Hopefully, anyway. Otherwise, you might vomit on the spot. Everything sucks. Why can’t he just leave you be. But you start thinking about it. Maybe Lant ordered his favorite son to have dinner with you. To show dominance over you, maybe?

Sounds like something Lant would tell Dion. That bastard is unable to see past his ass.

“Hana, by any chance… do you know if it’s only Dion that’s showing up?” you ask, praying that her answer will be ‘yes.’ You could probably handle your husband. If he treats you with indifference, then you could. But Lant?

No, no way in hell.

“Well… yes.” she finishes fixing the corset before dressing you in the dress you picked out. It wasn’t anything flashy, just a simple design. Chest covered with long sleeves that end in small ruffles. The dress ends a bit above your feet. Dress black in color, Hana chose maroon heels to go with it.

But the material was softer than your usual dresses. Far more expensive, too – your family wasn’t poor by any means. However, this single dress just shows how much the Agriche family holds wealth in high regard. You guess it only makes sense – they didn’t play nice and fair.

Their money was dirty money. And that fact makes your skin crawl, feeling dirty just for wearing these clothes. Lant had all the clothes you brought with you thrown out. Most likely to say, ‘Hey! Look at me, taking care of my daughter-in-law! Can’t you see how thoughtful we are about spending so much money on her?’

How laughable.

How egotistical.

You want nothing more than to set fire to these clothes. They are nothing more than a show of ownership. Like you were a pet.

No. you are a pet. Lant’s to be specific – and he’s just letting Dion play with you. Your husband only took the leash because he was ordered to. Nothing more, nothing less.

But how long until he gives you back to his father? If he decides you’re nothing but a hassle? Found you to be so boring compared to Roxana? Until he grew tired of his mother questioning him about your every move, nagging him to show up with you?

What about public events? You know that Lant likes to bring Dion and Roxana with him – they are his ‘trophies’ after all. But you? Then again, people would start to talk if Dion Agriche’s wife never made a public appearance. Word has traveled across the country by now, wondering how grand the wedding was.

How you looked. If you are love birds or if you are a victim of threats. If your parents sold you off to pay their debts.

…why did they marry you off?

“- lady?” Hana calls out, making you jump in your seat a bit. Wait. When did she start doing your hair? Hell, when did you even take a seat?

“My Lady?” she addresses you again, looking at you through the mirror. She doesn’t stop brushing your hair. She’s gentle with it. “Are you okay?”

Ah, right, you should reply.

“Y-yes… forgive me, I was just…” thinking about how Lant will kill you, “lost in my thoughts.”

“I see.”

The room goes quiet. You look at your reflection in the mirror. You don’t look like yourself. You look haggard, adorned in precious jewels that bring out the color in your eyes, only to be fearful. Your completion looks artificial due to the heavy layer of foundation that barely covers your dark circles.

You look like a lost, helpless lamb.

You practice smiling.

“Hana?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“How convincing does my smile look?”

She turns her attention from your hair to your reflection. She doesn’t answer at first. Rather, she stares hard, tilting her head only to shake it. “Not much. But it’s only going to be master Dion. Master Lant is on a business trip. So, rest assure; he won’t… um, care.”

She’s soft with her reply, like she didn’t want to offend you. Not like you cared – if he doesn’t look your way then it’s a good day. Even better if he keeps his mouth shut except for a greeting and a goodbye. If he bothers with it anyway.

“I see.” You shouldn’t get your hopes up, though. He gave you advice despite leaving after consummating your marriage. He was somewhat thoughtful during it too, and if you think about it harder, he almost seemed…possessive. And during the engagement party, he was mostly with Lant. And at your wedding he was, once again, with Lant. But… you did feel someone staring holes into your back during both events.

Was it him, you wonder.

funny, since he barely spoke a word to you during that period.

“And with that, we are done, my lady.” Hana’s good with her hands – you look pretty. If you ignore your haggard face. And tired eyes.

“Thank you, Hana. It’s lovely.” You compliment her genuinely. And for once, a true sweet smile paints your lips. She looks away after seeing it through the reflection. You see the tips of her ears turn pink, however.

To think she had a cute side.

“Thank you, my lady. But I only enhanced your natural beauty.” Apparently, she’s also a charmer.

“Still,” you turn around to look at her, feeling some peace within you, “you did wonderfully.” You were never good at giving compliments, but hopefully she knows you mean it. This feels normal. You don’t want it to end. You don’t want to leave this room. You don’t want to see your husband.

---

Dion doesn’t even look flustered once he sees your figure walking towards the table. Hana called you beautiful – he makes you feel less. While he doesn’t look at you in disgust, he also doesn’t look at you in awe. Just indifference. But maybe that’s for the best.

You glance around the room after greeting him – just you, him, and Hana. The good outcome. The best outcome would be that no-one showed up.

Okay, you tell yourself. You’re on the battlefield. Your opponent is Dion Agriche. Not the worst enemy…probably, but a strong and brutal one regardless. As long as you don’t anger or annoy him, you should be fine. Hopefully.

You take your seat across from him, quiet as a mouse. Should you start a conversation? Wait for him to start one? Or just keep the heavy silence that’s suffocating you? How… how does he feel?

You’re curious but not suicidal.

No words are exchanged as a servant serves the food. Only clinking of your cutlery against your plates echoes in the room. Your stomach can’t stop churning and your mouth feels dry. Every piece of food you swallow feels like it’s choking you.

Even when you drink the water it doesn’t help. Even so, you push through – you had to. Show little to no weakness to your husband who holds no attachment to you. Not that you can talk, of course. He’s nothing more than a dangerous stranger to you.

… how much more of this damn silence can you take? Your eyes won’t leave your plate. And that’s when you notice, it’s a light meal. Chickpea pasta salad. Okay… a weird choice for dinner, but it’s better than having something heavy in your stomach.

You would have thrown up otherwise.

Out of curiosity you glance up at Dion to see if he had the same meal. He did and your shoulders relax. Maybe he liked it. Yeah, that’s it – why would he be considerate? Everything else that just so happened to be convenient for you? Maria’s words?

It was and meant nothing.

Your attention returns to your plate. It’s nearly gone. Good, even though you feel like you might choke on it. You need to ask Hana for more indigestion medicine after this. Oh, right.

You should probably ask him about… that.

“D-Dion, I was wondering- “

“Wow! The bastard is spending time with his victim?”

You wince at the sound of your younger brother-in-law, Jeremy. Your grip on your fork also becomes loose, dropping onto your plate. You didn’t expect him of all people to make a surprise appearance.

Still, he’s better than Lant. As long as he doesn't pick a fight with his older half-brother. And for your sake, you hope he doesn’t. Wait.

… at the wedding he could barely keep his mouth shut. Lant and Roxana had to shut it for him. Ah… is he going to pick a fight? Here in the dining room? Oh boy… I don’t want to be here…

Wait, did he just call you a victim?

“Jeremy.” Dion ‘greets’ him but it’s clear that his younger brother’s surprise appearance annoys him. “I see that you’re loud as always.” After that, Dion goes back to eating. Like his number two hater didn’t crash the dinner. Hopefully his number one hater won’t show up –

“Jeremy, I thought we’ve been over this.” A soft, feminine yet firm voice calls out to the youngster. You recognize that voice anywhere.

Your heart rate picks up as butterflies soar in your chest. Your cheeks feel warm – a fluffy, sweet haze takes over your mind. It’s as lovely as when you first heard it at your engagement party. But you don’t feel worthy enough to view the beauty that is Roxana Agriche.

Still, you can’t resist the urge to peek.

Long wavy golden hair that ends at mid back, her bangs framing her slightly pointy face. Big ruby eyes with golden lashes that see through you. One of her dainty hands rubs Jeremy’s head. It’d be a lie to say you weren’t slightly jealous.

But you know that you should keep her at arm’s length. She’s not necessary evil, but…

You don’t want to be caught up in her schemes, if she finds you useful. After all, being part of her plan doesn’t guarantee your safety. So, you’ll just admire her from afar, like a fangirl.

Heat crawls up from your neck to the tip of your ears when she returns your gaze. You think you might faint from happiness the moment she smiles at you sweetly. You greet your in-laws, but a hole is being burned into your person. Who’s staring?

“It’s been a while,” again you don’t know how to address your in-laws. But you do a curtsy after rising from your seat, hoping they don’t notice the shake in your voice. Beautiful or not, your favorite character is extremely dangerous. Still, it’s a dream come true to see her so soon.

“Hah! She has manners, unlike you, dickhead.” Jeremy exclaims. It’s funny. While you know he despises your husband, you do find it a bit surprising that he would bad mouth him in front of you. You’re also surprised to run into these two so early into your moving into this mansion.

Now, you should figure out a way to fade into the background. Maybe return to your room before things get out of hand.

“Jeremy, that’s not nice,” Roxana scolds without meaning it. If anything, she might find the show enjoyable. Unfortunately for you, it only makes you uneasy. She glances at you before turning her attention to the young boy. They’re not even that far apart in age – just a year.

Wait. No. Before being reincarnated Roxana was a college student.

You push that fact out of mind.

“But look at her! Does she look like she’s having the time of her life?” he points at you, unknowing of how rude it could come across. You keep your trap shut, only smiling awkwardly before rebutting his very true accusation gently.

“Young master Jeremy,” that’s probably the best way to address him, “I’m completely fine. But thank you for your concern.” To be fair, you think, Dion probably doesn’t want to be here either.

You want to add ‘you’re sweet’ to your sentence but decide against it. It’s too intimate. Too friendly and casual. And you have a feeling your husband wouldn’t like that.

His attention hasn’t left you since Roxana came. Was he… jealous? That his sister was paying attention to you instead of him? Or did he find you unworthy of talking to her? Oh! Maybe he’s upset that you and Jeremy are here with him and Roxana.

…if true, it’s creepy.

“Blink twice if you’re being held hostage.”

“Jeremy.” Roxana becomes sterner, her eyes narrowing at the said boy. “That’s enough.” He pouts, offering a small apology. But not before taking one last jab at Dion.

“Don’t be surprised if she jumps of the terrace.”

The room goes quiet. No one dares to speak. Even for Jeremy, that was too far. Although, you could understand where he was coming from… but you were not his mother. And hopefully, unlike her, you won’t completely break.

Not again.

Dion, as always, says nothing. In the series he would have. Sneer at him maybe. Or return the insult, but harsher. Was this Dion more mellow? You’re not sure. Rather, he hasn’t shown his brutal side around you the few times you’re together, even at the engagement party, the wedding, and your first night together. Even earlier today, he warned you about his mother.

Ignoring the sadistic looks from last night, Dion didn’t really… showed you his true personality.

Almost like he was hiding it.

You shake your head. That’s ridiculous. With a small huff, you respond to Jeremy’s jab. You shouldn’t, but he shouldn’t act like this.

“Master Jeremy,” you call him, not sure of what to say next. “…While I appreciate your concern, please do not jump to such conclusions.” You’re scared he’ll lash out at you. Honestly, you don’t know if he does worry about you or if he just wanted to rile his older brother up. Regardless, it’s probably best to draw a line.

Everyone needs one.

“She’s right, Jeremy,” Roxana takes your side, and you can’t help but swoon. Truly, she’s a goddess in some regards and devil in another. Hopefully, you pray, you’ll only see her sweet side, no matter how fake it is. “You should apologize – properly.”

The boy looks dejected that his favorite sister basically told him that Dion won’t be the worst husband. If anything, he most likely wanted Roxana to take you away from the favorite son – so that he won’t have anything. Not that it matters – Dion is only playing house until Lant tells him otherwise.

“I’m,” Jeremy forces the words out, unable to look you in the eye. It’s kind of cute, but you must remind yourself that murder means nothing to this fourteen-year-old boy. If Roxana were to tell him to kill you tomorrow, he would without second thought.

“I’m sorry. Really. I was… out of line. I shouldn’t have said that to you, (n-name).” he stutters out your name like it was his first time hearing it. “But,” oh boy, you don’t like how the way he’s looking at Dion. And you don’t like how your husband glares at the boy, either.

Roxana shares a look with you, as if saying ‘get the bastard out, now.’ But how were you supposed to do that!? You barely talk as is!

What are you supposed to do!? Beg him to leave with the promise of… no, you can’t do that again. You like living with working reproductive parts.

But… how could you refuse Roxana?

Oh. You’re already falling for her traps. You’ll work on that later, when there isn’t a one-sided bashing session between the two half-brothers.

You breathe in before calling out Dion’s name. “Why don’t we… why don’t we walk around…” you squeak, drowning in embarrassment. You probably look like a mouse to them. “Why don’t we walk around the garden? I’ve been- “

“Hold up, do you really want to be alone with him- “

“Jeremy.” Your husband gets up from his seat and suddenly a knife cuts down the atmosphere. He sounds… pissed. He doesn’t raise his voice or anything; but that only makes it… worse. It’s hard to breathe and you can only watch as Dion stares at Jeremy.

You’re starting to fear for the boy’s safety.

Roxana looks like she was about to step in, clearly done with the entire situation until her older brother cuts her off. “At your age, acting out is just pathetic. Stop before you embarrass yourself further.”

Then, he looks at you with those fucking carmine eyes that gives off the impression that he knows more than he should. You feel naked, finally realizing something:

Dion Agriche is hiding something from you.

You’ve only ‘known’ him for a few months and spoken only a handful of times. But somehow, someway, he knows you. You feel like throwing up.

“I’ll see you at our room later.”

The moment he’s out of view, your dinner decides to come up. It was horrifying, throwing up in front of your in-laws. Especially Roxana.

And…

“See? I told you, Xana!”

Jeremy is also acting weird. Fuck, what’s even going on anymore? Can’t the characters stay, well, in character?

But hey, at the very least, you have the privilege of the beautiful Roxana helping you clean up after ordering Hana – she was standing to the side the entire time but couldn’t do anything – to bring some towels. Hopefully, Lant won’t hear of this…

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