#*cries* THEY WERE IN LOVE AND FATE STRIKES AGAIN

[crowsquaks]

I pity Clow Reed.

His tragedy is one based on love that fucks me up.

Now before you call me out with "he fucked so much stuff up" "mans was the walking definition of a 'problem'" yes. I know- but that is exactly why I pity him and the cluster fuck he caused.

(This is way longer then I meant for it to be so it gets to go under a cut. I am completely NORMAL about this I swear.)

We get bits and pieces of who Clow was from Cardcaptor, Tsubasa, XXXHolic from an outsider view. He was weird, eccentric and powerful. Yet, when you put all of the view's together, you get this picture that I still have so many feelings with to this day.

Clow fucked up. He know he fucked up with his single thought that stopped Yuuko's time from continuing. Where she was supposed to die, and she didn't. She was stuck outside time by something he did on accident because for a split second he couldn't bear the thought to lose her. That was the moment the whole cycle started, and where he resented being as powerful as he was.

This one choice was something far worse then he could ever dream. (I will continue to pray to usagi to give me a manga, even a one shot I'm not picky, of Clow and Yuuko.)

Now, we know one thing. I will not back down from this, but Clow loved Yuuko. In what way can be interpreted however you want, family, friend, lover sort of love- but he loved her.(I can also ague Clow has a TYPE, but I digress.)He loved her so much that he lost control over his magic to try to stay with her. Which we see a theme in clamps works with the more power you have the more you have to be careful. With great power comes great responsibility.

After we see the loss of control, we don't know what happens next. Except at some point they never see each other again. What we do know is at some point Clow had Momo, but it seemed he wasn't able to use her for what he needed. What would he need her for? To try and fix his mistake with freezing Yuuko's time? Hmmmm. Well- Clamp??? Alas we'll never know, but the crumbs for us to think are there.

After that the timeline gets a little wonky, Clow makes Kero and Yue. He splits himself in 2. Makes his way to the country of Clow to fill the spot his not self is no longer in due to Fei Wong's fucking around. Then we've got nothing, no idea what actually happens to him in the clone time line, just poof. He dead and Toya is king.

The we hop back over to Eriol and he makes Suppie and Ruby moon. Which wouldn't make you suspicious, lonely dude made some friends- except butterflies. Who's mark are butterflies. Yuuko's are. There out in the open, a subtle gesture until remembering how much he loves his creations. Even if he is no longer "Clow" there is still a piece of him in there loving Yuuko.

IT MAKES ME SO EMOTIONAL.

Clow Reed is a tragedy who is consumed by love and his hubris brought him to his knee's in the most human way possible.

~~

Quick side note, I wonder if the stray thought ever crossed Yuuko's mind looking at Watanuki that... if in another life she and Clow could have had a child. Would that child look as Watanuki does and is this what she couldn't have with him, because she already knows her story has ended. I like'd to to think the person she was talking to when she left was Clow.

[himasgod]

Morax x Reader

Where Morax manages to win the tournament

A tournament, a curse, a child. Your mother, The Queen Phoenix, holds a tournament across Teyvat to see who will win the hand of her daughter, you, the Princess Phoenix, in marriage. After many weeks of combat, Morax emerges victorious, joining you in a marriage bond, winning your soul, uniting your hearts. However, Guizhong, who was once in love with Morax, will not allow you to lead a happy life while she walks the fertile lands of Liyue.

(Hello everyone and thanks for meeting here once again! I'm going to explain this request that I think you'll love! It will be divided into two parts, the first one, in the scenario where Morax wins, and the second one, which will be a scenario where King Deshret wins. Enjoy!)

The sun shone brightly over the grand tournament grounds in Liyue, a spectacle that drew warriors and spectators from every corner of Teyvat.

The Phoenix Queen, a figure of regality and grace, stood at the highest balcony, her fiery plumage glowing in the sunlight. Her gaze, sharp and discerning, swept over the assembled fighters as they prepared for battle. This tournament was her desperate solution to secure her daughter's future, the hand of the Phoenix Princess, was the prize for the victor.

You watched from a secluded corner, your heart heavy with apprehension. You had reluctantly agreed to this arrangement, although the idea of ​​being offered as a prize unsettled you deeply. Your mother's intentions were clear: to find a worthy protector of the Phoenix bloodline's legacy. But the implications weighed on you; would the winner value you for who you were, or simply as a trophy?

The tournament progressed over days, filled with breathtaking displays of strength and skill. Warriors from Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, Fontaine and even distant Natlan competed fiercely, but two names rose above the rest:

Morax, the steadfast Lord of Contracts and Geo Archon, and King Deshret, the enigmatic ruler of the Sumeru sands. Both men were titans in their own right, their power undeniable and their ambitions inscrutable.

The final match was set: Morax versus King Deshret. The air was electric with anticipation as the two warriors stepped into the arena. Morax, clad in golden armor that gleamed with the essence of Liyue's mountains. Opposite him, King Deshret's crimson robes swirled like desert winds.

The clash was nothing short of legendary. Morax's precise strikes and unyielding defense met Deshret's raw power and unpredictable tactics. The ground shook under their blows, and the audience was left breathless as the battle unfolded.

Finally, with a calculated strike that shattered Deshret's weapon, Morax emerged victorious. The crowd erupted in cheers, but a quiet tension lingered in the air.

Morax's victory was both celebrated and scrutinized. The Phoenix Queen, satisfied with the outcome, arranged the wedding with grand ceremony.

You, though still uncertain, found yourself drawn to Morax's unwavering presence and the quiet respect he showed you.

Months passed, and your bond deepened.

You loved each other.

You gave birth to a child, a precious baby boy who carried the legacy of both the Phoenix Clan and the Lord of Geo. Your happiness, however, was short-lived.

Guizhong, the Goddess of Dust and Morax's closest confidant, watched from the shadows.

Once, she had been a pivotal figure in Morax's life, their bond rooted in trust and shared ideals. But now, she felt abandoned, replaced by the Princess and the family they had built. Her jealousy festered into hatred, and she plotted her revenge.

One fateful night, under the cover of darkness, Guizhong struck. She infiltrated the palace, her knowledge of its layout allowing her to move undetected. She stole the newborn from his cradle, her heart hardened against the infant's innocent cries.

Her destination was Qingyun Peak.

When you discovered yout missing child, you heart shattered. The protective instincts of your Phoenix blood ignited, and you vowed to bring your baby back. Summoning your strength, you pursued Guizhong.

Meanwhile, Moon Carver heard the baby's cries echoing across the peaks. Alarmed, he rushed to warn Morax.

Atop Qingyun Peak, the confrontation reached its climax. Guizhong stood at the edge of the precipice, the infant cradled in her arms. You arrived, your wings blazing with fury.

“Guizhong,” you called, your voice trembling with both rage and anguish. “Return my child, or face the wrath of the Phoenix Clan.”

Guizhong turned, a smirk playing on her lips.

“You took everything from me,” she hissed. “Now, I will take everything from you.”

Without hesitation, she released the infant, sending him plummeting toward the abyss.

You screamed, your wings propelling you forward. But before you could reach your child, a golden blur streaked past you.

Morax, arriving just in time, caught the baby in his arms, his Geo shield protecting them both from harm. Relief flooded through the you, but it was short-lived.

The sight of your child in such peril, the culmination of Guizhong's betrayal, who was being caught by the Yakshas and Xianyun, unleashed a fury within you unlike anyone had ever known.

Drawing upon the ancient power of the Phoenix Clan, you invoked the curse: the birth of the Dark Phoenix of Calamity. Your flames turned black, consuming the air. Your eyes burned with unholy fire as you transformed into a being of destruction.

Morax, cradling your child, watched in horror as his beloved succumbed to the curse. He called out to you, his voice breaking.

“Stop! You must fight this!”

But your rage was beyond reason, your power spiraling out of control.

The skies above Liyue darkened as the Dark Phoenix's flames spread, threatening to engulf the land. Morax, torn between his duty to protect Liyue and his love for you, made a heartbreaking decision.

Placing your child in Moon Carver's care, he turned to face his wife, his spear in hand.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, “I will save you, even if it means losing you.”

Your battle was devastating, and it lasted a whole week.

The clash of Geo and cursed flames shaking the very mountains. Morax fought with all his strength, not to kill, but to subdue you.

Finally, with a strike infused with the essence of his contract to protect and love you forever and ever, he sealed your power, returning you to your original form. The curse was lifted, but the cost was immeasurable.

You lay unconscious and lifeless.

Morax knelt beside you, his heart heavy with guilt and sorrow. He vowed to protect you and your child, no matter the cost.

Although the flames of the Dark Phoenix were extinguished, the scars left on his hearts and on Liyue would never fade.

Many, countless years later, this story was heard by the children running around Liyue Harbor, as Zhongli finished the story with a cup of tea in his hand, slightly trembling.

Your story became a legend, a tale of love that echoed through the ages.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request, they're opened and would help me so much! <3

[miumura]

HIS EXPECTED FATE — JUNGWON FF

“ one day, i will stop falling in love with you. ”

PART TWO OF (Y)OUR EXPECTED FATE. ( READ FIRST ? )

SYNOPSIS Jungwon was going to try to move on—he had promised you. But, with his new career choice, he found himself writing books about his past lifetimes with you. As he convinced himself it would help as he could finally “let go”, you just had to come stumbling into his life again…after all, promises are sometimes meant to be broken.

( 🗝️ ) THE PAIRING author!jungwon x fem!reader

𓍼 WARNINGS character death, mentions of injuries (blood), use of petnames (my love + dearest), profanity (barely)

⌞ + ⌝ GENRE doomed immortal x mortal, angst, fluff-ish?

♡⸝⸝ WORD COUNT — 2.6K+ ( 2694 WORDS )

AUTHOR’S NOTE FINALLY part two is here !! i just loved part one too much so i had to let it get its moment one more time ( yes , we have favs around here !! ) writer jungwon is to DIE FOR and ugh, i just might write a long fic based on that idea SOLELY for my own satisfaction so yeah the wheels r turning in my head as we speak 🤍 but i hope you enjoy ^^

Jungwon should’ve known.

Each step echoes in the hollow corridors of his mind, a haunting reminder of the cruel cycle of fate. Your fragile form lies before him, a mere whisper of the vibrant soul he once knew. "YN!" he cries out, his voice choking with anguish as he gathers you into his trembling embrace.

With his eyes blurred with tears, he notices how you looked up at him, life escaping from you within the minutes, or even seconds you had left.

Through tear-streaked eyes, he watches as your gaze meets his, a bittersweet reflection of love and loss. "Jungwon..." your voice is but a fragile whisper, fading like a distant echo.

“Why are you still smiling?” His voice trembled, his fingers caressing the side of your face as if he was trying to remember every detail about you into his memory.

How could you still smile so beautifully during your final moments?

Searching into your eyes for answers, he notices you trying to speak to him. Yet, instead of words, trickles of blood start escaping your lips, only intensifying the moment. “Take your time, YN…” His voice quivers as he tenderly brushes away the blood that mars your once radiant face.

Looking at your current state, he knew time was no longer a factor. Still, those words spill from his lips, a feeble attempt to offer comfort to both you and himself.

"I'm always here for you, remember?"

"I'm sorry," you murmur, your voice barely audible above the relentless march of time.

As the weight of your apology hangs heavy in the air, Jungwon's heart clenches with a mixture of sorrow and regret. "There's nothing to apologize for," he whispers, his voice barely audible amidst the suffocating silence of impending loss. “I should’ve done more.”

"You've done what you could. I was the stubborn one," you reassure him, your words a soothing balm to his troubled soul.

"I still could've tried harder," he persists, unable to shake the burden of guilt that weighs heavily upon him.

"Stop blaming yourself, my dearest," your pet name pierces through his turmoil, a reminder of the depth of your connection.

How many more times would he hear it before you slipped away?

“Listen, can you do me a favor?”

“Anything you ask, I’ll do it.”

“Anything?”

“Anything, my love.”

“Pursue in something else in your life. Something that isn’t me.”

"How?" Jungwon's tone is laced with uncertainty, his mind grappling with the thought of creating a new path without you by his side. He’d always believed that you were the person he needed to have to live peacefully. But, the more he thought about it, the more he had led himself to the most painful goodbyes he’d forever remember.

"I know you can do it. You've spent so much time searching for me, knowing that I won't remember a single thing about our past lives—isn't that right?" Your words striked something within him, a painful reminder of the futility of clinging to pasts that can never be reclaimed.

"Try to change your fate," you urge, your voice tinged with hope.

"I can't see a life without you—even if you're in different bodies, or lives—I need you," Jungwon confesses, his desperation laid bare for you to see.

"You're..." you cough out, a sudden wave of panic flooding through him. "You're only going to keep hurting yourself."

“But—”

"Jungwon. Please," you implore, your voice barely above a whisper yet filled with unwavering determination.

"Okay," Jungwon concedes, his resolve crumbling in the face of your earnest plea.

"Promise me," you insist, your hand trembling as you extend your pinky towards him, a silent vow of mutual understanding and commitment. Despite your weakened state, your arm strains to support your hand as it reaches out to him.

Jungwon clears his throat, his own hand trembling as he interlocks his pinky with yours. A fleeting smile graces your lips, a final testament to the love that binds your souls together.

"I love you, my dearest," you whisper, your words a tender farewell as the grip of your hand on his begins to loosen.

Tears stream down Jungwon's cheeks uncontrollably as he watches you slip away, the echoes of your parting words resonating within his shattered heart. No matter the amount of lifetimes he has gone through, he could never get familiar with the pain he’d experience when losing you.

The only thing that was different was the thought of him finally wanting to take your advice seriously. After all, he did make one last promise with you.

“I love you too, my love.” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion as he finally surrenders to the overwhelming tide of grief.

“I’ll try my best.”

Sinking into his chair, Jungwon's gaze drifts across the scattered stacks of notebooks adorning his desk. With a flick of his wrist, he switches on the desk lamp, its soft glow casting a comforting aura over the room as he reaches for the nearest notebook within arm's reach.

With pen in hand, he begins to jot down the fragments of ideas swirling in his mind. As the words flow effortlessly onto the paper, he can almost feel the weight of his burdens lifting, if only for a fleeting moment.

Dropping the pen onto the desk, Jungwon stretches his cramped fingers with a small groan, the fatigue of sleepless nights finally catching up to him. Adjusting his posture, he straightens his back and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the lenses reflecting words he had written in such a short amount of time.

Writing the last sentence, Jungwon closes the notebook with a sense of accomplishment, a faint smile gracing his lips as he flips through the pages one last time before setting it aside. It was one of the fifth notebooks he had put aside for this book—one of the books he’d spent so much of his time in because you had told him to follow his dreams.

So, he took it to heart, and he seriously never thought he’d be so committed until he finally managed to publish a couple of books of his own.

Finding himself in one of the bookstores, he found himself staring at one of the copies he had made. The countless hours spent hunched over his desk, the sleepless nights fueled by caffeine, and sheer determination had finally paid off.

Stepping closer to the display of his book, Jungwon feels a surge of pride swell within him as he runs his fingers over the glossy cover.

This couldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for your words.

Just as Jungwon is about to place the copy back onto the shelf, a voice startles him from his reverie. "Oh, you like that author too?" The sound of the voice breaks through the silence of the bookstore, drawing his attention to the person standing beside him—a cheerful stranger whose presence catches him off guard.

As he recovers from the sudden startlement, Jungwon's shock only intensifies when he realizes who is standing before him.

It's you.

You've been reincarnated, your familiar presence sending a shiver down his spine.

Quickly averting his gaze, Jungwon feigns casual indifference as he shifts his attention back to the shelves. "I was just curious, that's all," he replies with a slight nod, his heart pounding with a mixture of disbelief and longing.

Though he knows that you cannot possibly remember the countless lifetimes you've shared, the mere sight of you was overwhelming him. It was as if you knew, and you were simply mocking him for his misery.

“Oh, cool.” It would’ve been cool if he didn’t happen to bump into you now, especially since he tried his absolute hardest to not go out looking for you again. But, fate seemed to have their plans, and brought you to him like it was nothing.

“I didn’t know they released a new book—did you?”

“I’ve heard about it, that’s why I went to check it out.” he continues, his gaze fixed on the books before him as he struggles to maintain his composure. Despite the casual tone of the conversation, every fiber of his being longs to reach out to you, to hold you close and never let go. But he knows that such desires are futile, destined to remain unfulfilled in the cruel dance of fate.

He can’t fall for you again.

“Mind telling me what you heard about it? I’m quite curious as well,” Jungwon's heart races as you scoot closer to him, his pulse quickening for several reasons. It's been a while since he last saw you, and the sudden proximity is enough to make him feel flustered, a jumble of conflicting emotions swirling within him.

"Well, it's about a knight and a sorcerer," he replies with a bitter smile, carefully masking his true feelings behind a facade of casual indifference. After all, he can't afford to reveal his true identity as the author—not when he's spent so long hiding it from the public, especially for moments like this.

"Is that so?" you hum in response, your curiosity piqued as you peer over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the book in his hands. Jungwon's shoulders tense up, unsure of how to navigate this unexpected interaction. Should he reveal his secret to you, or continue to play along with the charade?

"It's quite different as the male lead is convincing the female lead to stay with him—oh and I forgot to mention, the female lead is a knight," Jungwon remarked, his enthusiasm evident in his tone.

"Wow, that's kind of badass," Jungwon chuckles, momentarily forgetting his unease in the warmth of your reaction.

"She certainly was," he responds almost instinctively, before catching himself with a slight frown. "...from what I heard, that is," he quickly adds, cursing himself for the slip-up. He can't afford to reveal too much, not when his true identity as the author must remain hidden.

"What do you mean he was trying to convince her to stay though? What happened?" you inquire, effortlessly steering the conversation in a new direction. Jungwon feels a wave of relief wash over him at your gentle redirection, grateful for the sudden change.

"Well, since he's immortal, he had finally figured out a way for her to stay," Jungwon recalls, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "But, she refused. And even with his pestering, nothing could convince her."

"Yikes—this author hates seeing people happy, huh?" you remark sadly, your empathy for the characters noticeable in your tone. "They always manage to write something sad, I feel bad for the characters."

Jungwon chuckles at your words, though there's a hint of sadness underlying his amusement. It's not that he hates seeing people happy; rather, he's grappling with his own memories, desperately trying to come to terms with the past in order to find solace in the present.

"It seems so," he finally manages to say, his voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within him. "But, you know, I haven't read the whole thing. It could have a good ending, who knows," he adds optimistically, though he knows all too well the outcome of that particular fate.

"I like the creativity though, I wouldn't have imagined this," you remark, your admiration for the author's imagination evident in your words. And as Jungwon listens to you speak, he finds himself drawn to the warmth of your presence, fully knowing he shouldn’t be.

He would only hurt himself again.

As silence envelops the room, Jungwon finds himself lost in his thoughts, the weight of his past with you casting a shadow over the present. But then, your voice breaks through the quiet, pulling him back to the present moment.

"I don't blame her though—I would've done the same," you added, your words tinged with understanding and empathy. Jungwon's gaze shifts to you, his heart aching at the familiarity of your smile. It's a bittersweet reminder of the lifetimes they've shared, each one leaving an indelible mark on his soul.

Meeting your gaze, Jungwon is struck by the overwhelming sense of deja vu that washes over him. Your face, so achingly familiar, holds a mirror to his memories—the way your hair falls in gentle waves around your face, the curve of your smile, and the moles that adorned your skin.

Your moles.

As Jungwon's gaze lingers on the moles scattered across your face, he can't help but feel a surge of nostalgia wash over him. Each mole seems to hold a memory, a testament to the countless kisses he had left upon your skin in your previous lives.

The urge to wrap his arms around your waist and kiss each mole floods Jungwon's senses, a longing that was meant to be fulfilled every lifetime. His heart falters, torn between the overwhelming love he feels for you and the bittersweet ache of your shared pasts.

You are just too pretty, he thinks, his breath catching in his throat as he struggles to contain the flood of emotions threatening to consume him. In that moment, you are more than just a familiar face—you are a living, breathing reminder of everything he has ever loved and lost.

He knows no matter how many lifetimes may pass, you will always hold a special place in his heart.

"Why?" Jungwon asks, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation as he searches for answers in your words, hoping they will provide solace for the choice you made to leave him in your past life.

"Living on forever doesn't seem like a good thing. It could get boring, so I would understand the female lead's thoughts. After all, not knowing the outcome of your life could only push you to work harder, no?" you respond, your words carrying a wisdom that resonates deeply within him.

"Even if it meant staying with your lover?" he presses, his heart pounding with anticipation as he awaits your response.

"Even if it meant staying with your lover," you affirm, your gaze unwavering as you meet his eyes.

Hearing your words stings, but Jungwon finds himself strangely grateful for the insight they provide into your perspective. They were all too familiar, and it was as if you meant to give him that reminder in every life of yours.

Perhaps he had always viewed love through a narrow lens, assuming that staying together for eternity was the ultimate expression of devotion. But now, as he reflects on your words, he realizes that love is as much about understanding and acceptance as it is about passion and commitment.

"I see," he murmurs softly, the words heavy with resignation yet tinged with a newfound sense of understanding. Maybe, just maybe, he should stop chasing after a love that may never be fully realized. "I understand, thank you."

Just as he is about to turn away, ready to take the first steps towards letting go of his past, he feels a tug on his sleeve—a gentle reminder that some bonds are too strong to be easily broken. Turning back to face you, Jungwon is surprised when you hand him a piece of paper. Confusion flickers across his features as he accepts it, watching as you walk away with a smile.

Opening the paper, his eyes widen in surprise as he reads the number scrawled across it.

"You're cute – call me? :)"

The boldness of your gesture catches him off guard, but a warm feeling spreads through him nonetheless.

Chuckling softly to himself, Jungwon realizes just how much he has missed you. Despite the promise he made to himself to let go, he finds himself unable to resist the temptation of reconnecting with you.

After all, you in your previous life never managed to keep your promises either.

With a sigh, Jungwon inputs the number into his phone, a mix of apprehension and excitement coursing through him. Perhaps, he muses, promises aren't always meant to be kept—at least not when they stand in the way of finding happiness and connection with someone he cares about.

Sending the first text, Jungwon felt like this was bound to happen.

As if it was his expected fate.

💬 : 🥸

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[littlefireball]

ʏʜ|ʟᴏꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ (ᴀ)

(a/n: i love angst ah ha)

ᴀɢᴇɴᴛ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x ᴍᴀꜰɪᴀ ʙᴏꜱꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ꜱʜᴏᴏᴛɪɴɢ, ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛ ꜱᴜɪᴄ*** (ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ!ꜰɪɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘ!!)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2ᴋ

Summary: After you die, yunho becomes a monster and kills everyone who hurt you before. Of course, it includes himself.

Resting against the wall, you let out a heavy sigh, your head finding a temporary refuge as you gazed out at the rain-soaked street beneath a brooding sky. The rhythmic patter of raindrops mingled with the distant sound of hurried footsteps. Passersby hurriedly ducked their heads, seeking shelter in nearby shops, their urgency contrasting with the calm that enveloped you as you observed the scene.

"I've found you, Y/N." A low voice broke the stillness of the alley. You turned to see a drenched figure standing before you, water streaming from his tousled hair onto his strong shoulders.

A bittersweet smile crossed your lips, lacking the arrogance you once wore; only the weight of heartbreak lingered in your gaze.

"Should I offer my congratulations?" Your tone dripped with sarcasm, yet it was tinged with a sense of resignation.

"Y/N, there's no turning back. Come with me. If you cooperate, your sentence might be lessened..." 

"Yunho. Do you really believe my sentence could be reduced?" You tilted your head, leaning against the wall, hands shoved deep into your pockets, fists clenched tightly as you fought to contain the ache within. "Or should I say, do you think I even care?"

From the moment you took a life, the weight of your crime ceased to matter. Whether captured or killed, you had long since accepted that fate. Yet, you never anticipated that he would slip into your life so quietly, steal your trust, and ultimately betray you. All the love you had was shattered the day he turned his back on you.

Perhaps it wasn't betrayal at all—after all, he had been an undercover agent all along.

"Please. I just want to help you," Yunho pleaded, his voice quivering with emotion. "Please, I—"

"Help me? By breaking my heart and dragging me off to prison? That's your idea of help?" His absurd words drew a laugh from you, but it was laced with sorrow, and tears began to blur your vision. You smiled through the pain, unable to stop the tears from cascading down your cheeks.

"No, Y/N. That's not what I..." Yunho stepped closer, but you recoiled, your gaze filled with a mix of fear and the bitterness of betrayal, reminiscent of that fateful day when he led the charge against your stronghold, leaving your subordinates in ruins. 

"I will never forget what you've done to me, Jeong Yunho, even if I die," you declared, your voice quivering with rage. Yet, words were all you had left; you were now a cornered animal, a defenseless outcast.

"Just let them shoot me down. I know they're waiting." You had always sensed the cold presence of merciless guns surrounding you. Any attempt to strike at the man before you would only lead to your own demise. Yunho was merely trying to exploit the remnants of your feelings for him to extract the information he craved.

You wouldn't fall for his tricks again.

"No, I'm alone here, and I won't harm you."

"Why can't you even blink when you lie? Do you think I'll believe you?"

"Believe it or not, I swear I won't hurt you."

"But you already have!" In a flash, you drew a gun from your pocket, aiming it at the man you once loved. But before you could pull the trigger, a shot rang out from behind, piercing your heart; you collapsed. Blood spilled forth like a prisoner escaping its confines, creating a gruesome red tapestry across your body.

"Y/N!!" Yunho dashed to your side, cradling you in his desperate embrace. "No, no, no! Stay with me, please!" His hand pressed against the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood, but it was all in vain.

"Please, don't leave me!" He cried out with a voice that cracked, tears spilling forth like a spring's fresh flow. Yet, despite his desperate cries, the anguish and sorrow in his heart remained unyielding, as if they threatened to engulf him entirely.

With all your strength, you forced your eyes open, only to find the man before you pressing his forehead against yours, whispering desperate pleas and apologies that barely reached your ears. He took your hand, brushing it against his warm cheek, a stark contrast to the chill of your skin.

"Why..." The words caught in your throat, transforming into a jumble of sounds. As he heard your cries, it was as if he was clinging to the last threads of hope.

"Y/N, please stay with me. I'll get you to the hospital." He slipped his arms beneath your thighs and back, lifting you. Blood stained his clothes, blooming like dark ink, slowly fading away. "Hold on, Y/N. Just hold on!" He repeated your name, a mantra against the encroaching darkness.

"Where are you going, Yunho?" His teammate rushed down from the tower, blocking his path.

"Get away from me! Don't make me twice!"

"Are you out of your mind? You're a fugitive now!"

"BUT YOU TOOK MY LOVE!" Yunho shouted, making his teammate flinch. He had never seen Yunho so out of control. "WHY YOU SHOOT HER?!I SAID NEVER HURT HER!" 

"Are you crazy?She's about to kill you!" 

"SHE WOULD NEVER!I TRUST HER!" Yunho's eyes blazed with a fury that consumed him, his voice echoing through the desolate streets. "IT'S YOU WHO'S TAKEN EVERYTHING FROM ME!" 

"Yunho, calm down. You're not thinking clearly. She had a gun pointed at you. I had to act fast." 

But Yunho's mind was made up, his heart consumed by grief and rage. His grip on you tightened, but he found you already lost concessions and no breathing. 

"Y/N?Y/N?Don't scare me." He sank to his knees, allowing the rain to pelt his face, stripping away the warmth from his skin. The vibrancy of life would fade from your features, and the rhythm of your heart would cease to echo in your chest. All that would remain was the profound stillness of death. You didn't utter a single word, just as you slipped away quietly when he intruded into your world.

"Y/N, Y/N!Please wake up. Don't leave me." Yunho felt as if the world had come crashing down around him. He couldn't believe that you were gone, that he had lost you forever. He pressed his lips against yours, as if farewell to you and his past. 

"I won't let you die like this." He shifted his gaze to his teammate, no more care and affection, but only hatred. 

"Everyone who has harmed you will pay the price, I promise." His teammate moved closer, gently patting his shoulder before crouching down beside him.

In an instant, without a moment's thought, Yunho pulled out his knife from his pocket and swiftly slashed across his teammate's throat. Blood erupted, filling the air with a metallic scent, and the scream that tried to escape his lips was silenced. All he could do was stare in shock at the man before him, now transformed into a merciless executioner.

"You killed her. Don't think for a second that I'll ever forgive you." Yunho rose, his gaze icy as he watched his former ally clutch his neck, gasping for breath in a futile struggle. "What you've endured will never compare to what y/n went through." Without a backward glance, he let the rain pummel his fallen companion, lifted your lifeless body, and vanished into the shadows of the street.

—---

"Is there truly no one who can stop him?" lamented the boss who once employed Yunho, his hand pressed against his forehead as a heavy sigh escaped his lips. The scene unfolding before him was anything but hopeful.

Yunho had been his most formidable agent, but everything changed the day you met your end. The betrayal was unfathomable; he never imagined Yunho would spiral into madness over you, a mafia leader. In his fury, he had taken down numerous agents, wielding his insider knowledge of the organization and its inner workings like a weapon.

The one-bustling headquarters now echoned with silence, save for distant clamor of sirens as police cars and the sound of breeze. The atmosphere was eerily tranquil, reminiscent of a deathly stillness that sent shivers down the spine. From the table, desperate cries for assistance pierced the quiet, yet he remained unresponsive. Instead, he drifted toward the expansive glass window, gazing out into the dark abyss of night, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

He understood that this moment would be the final image etched in his memory.

The persistent beeping of the pager faded into the background, overtaken by the haunting wails, until once more, everything succumbed to an oppressive silence.

"Long time no see." Yunho's greeting, once a mere formality, now echoed like a grim omen from the depths of despair. Blood stained his clothes, and only a fierce thirst for vengeance flickered in his gaze.

"Must you really act this way? She..." He turned, but Yunho shot without hesitation, bypassing any need for reflection or words. He collapsed, watching as Yunho advanced, a glinting short knife gripped tightly in his hand.

"Stop babbling in front of your foe. Have you forgotten the lessons you taught me?" Yunho knelt beside the fallen leader, the blade of the knife brushing against his cheek.

"How can you…!"

"Because you commanded us to eliminate her!" Yunho snarled, his chest rising and falling with rage, his hands quaking. "If you hadn't ordered me to eradicate her allies, she wouldn't have despised me and left! She wouldn't have been forced to take up arms and meet her end! This is all on you!"

"Don't forget... you were the one who initiated the betrayal..."

"Of course, I'll never forget." A bitter smile twisted Yunho's lips, tears tracing paths down his face. Yes, he was the one you loathed most in life, wasn't he? The one who stripped you of everything and shattered your trust.

He was the one who truly deserved to die.

"I'll join her soon enough, so don't fret." He buried his vulnerability deep, his eyes now ablaze with hatred, erasing any hint of the sorrow that had just lingered. With renewed resolve, he pressed the trigger in his hand once more.

------

Yunho trudged toward your gravestone, each step weighed down by an unbearable heaviness. The relentless rain pelted him, as if the sky itself mourned the loss that consumed him. His body felt like a shell, hollowed out by the relentless pursuit of vengeance that had twisted him beyond recognition. Now, all that remained was a flicker of sanity and a deep-seated remorse for you.

"Y/N, I avenged you. Are you pleased?" he whispered, a bitter smile creeping across his lips. Silence enveloped him, broken only by a flash of lightning that momentarily illuminated the brooding clouds above. He glanced at the small blade in his grasp, its surface mirroring the scars etched into his face. Though the act of revenge had been fulfilled, an unshakeable guilt clung to him, suffocating his spirit.

"I forgot, I am still alive. You must despise me, don't you?" His voice barely rose above the drumming rain, and the droplets mingling on his cheeks blurred the line between rain and tears of sorrow. "I'll return your life to you now, alright? If you remain silent, I'll take it as your consent."

With a heavy heart, he set the blade aside and retrieved your sidearm from his pocket. Without a moment's hesitation, he pressed the cold metal against his chest. An overwhelming agony gripped his nerves, and the steady drain of blood left him shivering in the cold. He collapsed beside your gravestone, raindrops cascading onto his throat, which reeked of a primal scent, as if the heavens were bestowing their final kindness, attempting to cleanse the bitter metallic tang lingering in his mouth. He turned his head, gazing at your tombstone, yearning for your hand to clasp his and for a smile to light up your face. Yet, this was merely the desperate wish of a dying man, and the blurred image of the gravestone in his eyes gradually faded into darkness.

tag list:@angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615

[ma1dita]

truth be told

can be read as a standalone, but part one can be found here: liar, liar

this was a request! here

words: 3k

summary: After everything, only the truth remains. A continuation of your life with Sirius. Loosely follows the events of the books. Sirius Black x fem!reader

warnings: one use of y/n, ANGST guys if i cried writing this you will too, non-descript smut for the plot, ending open to interpretation, Sirius deserved a better life. star-crossed lovers strike again!

a/n: it has been months but i wanted to get this right. Saddest shit I’ve written in a while, hope you enjoy! Let’s rant about how the Blacks have the saddest character arcs…. And this has an open ending, tell me what you think happened!! Tunes attached at the end for your reading pleasure.

(posted: 12/18/23)

—

There’s always a proper explanation for drastic life changes. Surely, there’s a reason this keeps happening to you.

At the very least, this time around you feel as if you owe it to your dead friends. You’d never thought you’d be the one to outlive all of them, with how much the world has gone to spite you, but then, you heard about Harry Potter. It was never fair, the way he lost loved ones that you loved too. Perhaps it was sympathy or your ongoing savior complex, but 12 years gives you a lot of time to ponder past transgressions.

So when Remus sent you an urgent letter about Peter being found alive, arranging your international portkey to meet them at Hogwarts immediately was a no-brainer.

Professor Remus, who is so eloquent with words, just casually had to omit the fact that your ex was also back in the picture. And that he was the most wanted wizard in Britain. Truthfully, your life has been much quieter since him. There’s truth in these details…

Now, as you follow Severus Snape to the Shrieking Shack under the guise of catching your ex red-handed, something about this scene feels familiar.

The seed of doubt that was planted back then still lingers as a big and scary thing, all twisted and it rips open old scars for those involved. It makes you stop in your tracks at the entrance of the base of the Whomping Willow and you can't help but be struck by the thought of how much things have changed since that fateful night all those years ago. And yet, somehow, it is all the same.

A pang of guilt stabs at you. The night was supposed to be about catching the big bad Sirius Black, but you couldn't help but be reminded of how important he had been to you back then, and how you loved him. Love him. It was almost as if you were playing the part of the traitor rather than looking for one...

You’re 33 now, after all. What else could go wrong?

—

You hesitate outside the entryway, listening to voices from your past and present intermingle, and the thundering in your heart drowns out the sound of your heavy breathing. Godric, and they said Harry has his life threatened every year? Isn’t Hogwarts supposed to be the safest place on Earth?

As Severus raises his wand to attack Sirius, you step into the light and wordlessly stupefy your colleague, his body dropping to the floor like a bag of rocks. Multiple pairs of eyes meet, some in fear and confusion, but you are immediately drawn to him, his presence calling something within your soul as it did 12 years prior. Sirius Black, your lost love, all covered in grime and more suffering than man. He has that look on his face, the one he’d get when he was about to make a point— and it irritates you so quickly that it’s almost debilitating.

The rush of emotions as you see him again floods you with a memory of a time like this long ago. It hits you like a tide that washes over your senses, the way one breathes in saltwater, all nostalgia and raging hurt, and as you gulp in oxygen, breathing heavily. For a second, the shadows in this dark room look like the friends you lost on a night this, one you no longer talk about.

Guilt, anger, and love all vie for your attention but your mind goes numb as Sirius steps closer, his face twisted in a wry smile as he meets your gaze.

"Hello, wife." He whispers, his voice tinged with affection and regret. He’s different now, older… starved. Sirius steps closer to you blinking slowly, hand grazing your wrist like he’s afraid you’re a figment of his imagination again. He’s spent a lot of time over the years imagining you. But then the anger comes back to the forefront of your brain before he can do anything about it.

You sock him hard in the jaw, and he crumples to the ground like paper. What a scene— Severus lying unconscious behind you, Sirius keeled over holding his jaw, and the Golden Trio stares at you with open mouths.

“Who even are you?” A ginger boy holding a ball of fur almost howls in disbelief. Is that…

“Good to have you back, love,” Remus says with a knowing grin, and then all you can hear is Sirius’s laughter. Despite the blood dripping from his lips he laughs, so filled with enjoyment that he hasn't felt in years.

“Someone’s gotta keep you two in line,” you huff, looking around quickly as you point your wand at the damn rat of a man hiding in the grasp of these children.

“Put him down so I can hurt him,” You spit, and Peter Pettigrew, ever the petty little man launches himself at you going down in a flurry of multicolored sparks and misfired spells.

“Kill him, baby, kill him! You knew it wasn’t me, didn’t you? I’ve been waiting for this… 12 years of it! In Azkaban!” Sirius chortles, almost rocking on the floor in glee, finding this hilarious.

“Quiet you git, or I’ll make sure you’re next!”

A low growl comes out of Remus, and you realize revenge will have to wait once more, pushing the Trio out of the shack. One thing is clear in your mind as you run for your life.

You have got to stop testing fate.

—

Tomorrow, you turn 34. What better way to celebrate than to pay a visit to your ex-boyfriend after he escaped from Azkaban? Clearly, Remus Lupin thinks it’s his best idea yet.

“He’s not doing so well, (Y/N). Can’t seem to adjust at Grimmauld Place and find a new normal…” Remus mutters over the floo network late at night.

“I don’t think normal and that place could ever belong in the same sentence,” you say with a furrowed brow. From one prison to another, you think.

“I just… I thought I’d floo you because I’m running out of ideas. You know… you knew him best.” The fireplace illuminates your face in the small apartment you’ve been residing in for the past month since your return.

“Does it matter? We’re strangers again, just bound together by hazy memories. I wouldn’t know what to do…”

“But I think you do, and he wants you there. Just doesn’t know how to say it. For some of us, memories are all we have.” The image of Remus’s head was getting licked at by the hot flames, and the idea of being in front of Sirius again, not for Order business, but to be even a friend, after everything…

You felt like you were on fire too.

“Isn’t it ironic that the happy memories hurt more than the sad ones, Rem?” Silence greets you from the other end of the fire, both of you knowing that it’s the truth

Sirius sees you approaching the house in the early morning as he watches out the window after another sleepless night. His body jerks up from his hunched position at the bay window, wiping at the corners of his eyes. You came. You’re here. For him.

He meets you downstairs, daybreak peeking in rays of blue and purple behind you, the frame of the doorway separating the two of you along with the realization that you’ve missed each other for longer than you’ve known one another.

You step back into his space, and he takes your coat quietly, scared to make another mistake, scared to push you away like he has many times before.

Something akin to grief holds you there in the foyer, staring at each other in a new light, faces changed by the life you should have lived together. For right now, there’s nothing more to hide, nothing less than the simple truth that you are two different bodies with the same souls. There is no struggle in the way your hand reaches out for his chest, to feel the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a while, you both feel alive.

“Sirius…” you whisper. No nicknames, because what do you call him after all that? The man who left that night with hushed promises and left you to handle the wreckage.

The world keeps moving and he’s still stuck there in that cell. In this house. Sirius can’t seem to walk away from what haunts him, but at the sound of your voice saying his name he smiles.

No one’s said his name that kindly to him in years. Not in the way that you do.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

—

You’re 35 now, and you’ve realized that it takes time. Time is all you have when your love is in hiding. You’re caught again between the blurry lines of friends and something more, but the work that has to be done comes first before anything.

And it is driving Remus mad.

You moved into one of the many spare rooms at Grimmauld Place when Remus did, to keep Sirius company and organize affairs for the Order. But to watch you two dance around each other awkwardly makes him want to claw at his skin more than he already has.

“Friends stick together. We help each other out,” you say nonchalantly and Sirius’ head bobs as he helps you put the groceries away one day. Remus is not as amused.

There are a lot of things to fix here, with the house swarming with dark magic and cursed artifacts. You all spent weeks researching the combination of anti-sticking charms to tear down the family tapestry.

Wretched Walburga’s painting was almost one with the foundation of the building, so you found a way to magic it shut forever. To take down the bad memories brick by brick, hurt and shame—if that’s what he wanted, you and Remus made sure it was what he would get. It’s what he deserved. When you finally showed Sirius the closed-off wall, without the invidious glare of his birthgiver, he thought he could kiss you with the happiness it brought him. You have a way of doing that, so intentional with your words, and how you’ve been caring for him, giving him the room he’s learning to occupy again…

So he did.

Hesitantly, then desperately drinking you in like a man left starved, and he had years of a fill to catch up on. He could drown in you if you’d let him.

And you did.

You kissed in the middle of the living room he was once damned in, legs hoisted over his hips as you fall onto the sofa. Frantic movements, kisses conveying words left unsaid, and at one point you both cry in pleasure and relief at being in each other’s arms again. If everything’s gone wrong in life, dear Circe, was this finally right.

His thrusts are slow as he gazes at you from above, hair moved out of your face to properly see you. Calloused hands roam your body that he wishes to reacquaint himself with from the inside out, from your skin to your bones.

“It’s okay,” you sigh as you touch his jaw, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m scared to ruin this. To ruin you.”

Your hips slow as you reach around to hug him. Sirius had long come to terms with the fact that he ruins everything he touches, and you’re not an exception in a long line of proof. You gently pull his body down before rolling over him, placing kisses everywhere you could reach. The crease in his forehead, his sunken in collarbones, the lean of his chest until your eyes and lips fall upon the dark etch of your name on his ribcage, under his heart. It joins the many other tattoos that grace his slender body, but it’s the only one in bright, devastating red. Your eyes meet again.

“I…they kept trying to take the necklace away. I had to remember you somehow. I’m sorry,” he says bashfully, eyes flickering to the ceiling in timidity, and the apology slips out from his lips. It makes you smile at how far he is from the arrogant man you once knew.

“Then ruin me then. Again. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your approval stokes the fire in him, hands grabbing for dear life to feel you more underneath his fingertips and with the movements he makes from under you, striking hard like he has something he needs to prove. As you sigh into his neck and hold tightly onto his hand, you think of how loving him has always been red. Necklace or not, that has always been the truth.

Naked underneath a throw blanket that might scar Remus’ senses when he gets back from his mission and surrounded by the construction job of a house he once hated, Sirius breathes easily with you resting upon his chest. He hasn’t dreamed in a long while, but here, he can conjure images of finally marrying you and making this house a home.

“What are you thinking about? Tell me the truth,” you whisper, and he stops breathing, thinking you’re already asleep. Your fingers rub a mark on his neck lovingly.

“I want you to call me anything else. Baby, sweetness, darling…” he muses with a crackly voice.

“I don’t like my name. You’ve always known that. I don’t think it’s ever been mine. But I have always been yours, even when I didn’t know it. Even if you don’t want me.”

You press yourself closer to him, if that’s even humanly possible, gripping onto his soul.

“Husband it is then.”

—

At 36, you didn’t think you’d be having this fight with him again.

It wouldn’t be Sirius if he didn’t put up a fight. The man who’s spent his entire life fighting to get everything he wants or even a fraction of what he felt he needed. So why would loving him be any more simple?

He won’t easily admit that he’s never experienced life the way he wanted to unless he was with you, the only constant, his only calm. But there’s no way in hell you’re letting him rush out into the night again to never be seen.

“Harry needs me, my love. I need to protect him! You need to stay here,” Sirius bites back at the desperation writhing through his being, needing for you to understand that he wants you safe too.

“I’m tired of fighting you, babe, I can’t…” Your hands slam onto the dining table as he paces around it, running away from you again as he grabs things he needs. The lack of air in your lungs is making everything rush to your head, anxiety making you spiral as you chase him again, reaching out for him like trying to grapple with smoke.

“I can’t do this. I’m not letting you leave without me again,” you wail, and he’s not listening, hyperfocused on saving one of the few people he has left to live for. He laces his boots haphazardly, keys being thrown into his jacket pocket, and it all boils over.

“SIRIUS!” you scream. He stops in his tracks and looks at you in the moonlight, face illuminated by the kitchen window. You’re crying, shaking, with your hand still outstretched for him to hold. He pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead with all the love he can muster.

“I...can’t lose you again. Could it be easy this once? I’m not the enemy here. Please don’t fight me on this,” you heave between soft sobs, hands crinkling his shirt to keep you grounded.

“You’re coming.” he surrenders, and you nod, both of you knowing it’s the truth. The blue light of a refashioned heart necklace lights the space between you. Fear fills the air again, and he silently grabs your jacket, zipping it up and tucking the pendant underneath your shirt. His thumb brushes over your jaw in an unhurried moment as he looks at you long enough that you wish to stay here forever.

“I love you.”

“I know, husband. I love you.”

Your hand grips onto his and you apparate to the Department of Mysteries.

—

The quiet tragedy of your love will never truly leave your ribcage, and Sirius’s quite literally etched in the skin and bones of him, under his heart.

One moment, he’s fighting for his life with you beside him, and the next, he’s falling. The love never disappeared, though it appeared differently the second time around. You couldn’t love each other the same way twice, with everything that’s changed since the beginning of it, but the love was there. It evolved with you. It endures.

You’re the only family he needs, and this point is further solidified when his cousin sends a killing curse his way, and his saving grace is you letting go of his hand to to blast her into oblivion. He trips backward to the Veil all the same.

“Wife…” he breathes out, being pulled in by nothingness. Your body turns slowly and your eyes meet, his hand out his hand stretches to reach yours. His eyes reflect the red glow of the pendant on your chest, and then you know what to do.

“Husband!” The sound of your voice brings a smile to his face and he shuts his eyes not needing to know how this will end because you’re here, and barely a breath away.

There wasn’t even a second thought to grab his hand, and the both of you are falling, falling again. Hands intertwined, both ringless, yet all the more secure and true. This is how it was meant to be.

—

“I can’t decide if time

Is my enemy

Or my friend

Time takes the pain away

But time takes you away too.”

-Whitney Hanson

taglist (OPEN): @jsjcue

love me some tunes! I listened to these three songs while I wrote: cedar by gracie abrams, adam's ribs by jensen mcrae, the alcott by the national (ft. taylor swift)

[mononijikayu]

“a life, a sparkle in your eyes/heaven coming through” — gojo satoru.

It was a smile that spoke volumes, conveying a multitude of emotions in its simple curve. It was a smile of acceptance, of love, of unwavering support for the choices you had made. And in that smile, you found reassurance, a silent affirmation that you were cherished and adored just as you were, in every form and iteration. One that you hadn’t seen in a long time. And Satoru somehow has the kindest one you’ve ever seen before. The most precious.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: the astronaut by jin of bts

NOTE: jin of bts is returning from the military in a couple of hours and this song was on repeat and i had a satoru idea so here we are!!! anyway, i love you!!! ill see you in the next update of ashes of love <3333

masterlist

u s and t h e m

YOU REFLECT A LOT ABOUT YOUR LIFE. You lost faith in love a long time ago. You had been surrounded by love all your life, enveloped in its warmth and comfort. But then your father died, and you were taken from your mother. Your world shattered, leaving you adrift in a sea of sorrow. Then it was Kaiko and Namie who became your anchors. You clung to them desperately, finding solace in their presence and, once more, you were surrounded by love. 

But the cycle repeated itself cruelly. Somehow, no matter how you want to escape it, the same suffering was bound to repeat itself. Namie died, and Kaiko went insane, driven mad by her own grief, and left you to inflict her pain upon the world. And then you spilled her blood with your hands, trying to prevent more suffering. You were alone again, cast into the abyss of solitude. Suffering the voices in your head and the shadow of a lost love.

It was a bleak existence, a never-ending cycle of loss and heartache, until one fateful day. You found a cat stuck in a tree, its desperate cries mirroring your own silent pleas for help. As you struggled to rescue the frightened creature, a voice called out to you. It was Gojo Satoru, a first-year boy with striking white hair and a confident demeanor. He approached with an easy smile, offering his assistance without hesitation.

It was a bleak existence, a never-ending cycle of loss and heartache, until one fateful day. You found a cat stuck in a tree, its desperate cries mirroring your own silent pleas for help. As you struggled to rescue the frightened creature, a voice called out to you. It was Gojo Satoru, a first-year boy with striking white hair and a confident demeanor. It was hard to not know what he looked like. You’ve seen him enough in the clan gatherings, though never once interacted with him. And besides, the six-eyes was too hard to miss. He approached with an easy smile, offering his assistance without hesitation.

"Need some help?" Satoru called out, his voice light and friendly.

You glanced down, surprised by the sudden intrusion. "I think I can manage," you replied, though your grip on the tree branch was precarious.

Satoru chuckled, easily reading the situation. "Looks like the cat isn't the only one stuck," he teased, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hold on, I'll get it."

Before you could protest, he effortlessly climbed up beside you. With a gentle but firm hand, he coaxed the trembling cat into his arms. "There we go, little guy," he murmured to the cat before turning to you. "And now for the other rescue."

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as Satoru helped you down from the tree, his touch warm and reassuring. "Thank you.” you mumbled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude.

"No problem," he said with a grin. "I'm Gojo Satoru, by the way. What's your name?"

You hesitated for a moment, then replied, "Zenin. Gen—”

Satoru's eyes widened slightly with recognition, but his grin only widened. "Oh! Then you’re my senpai?" he said, a playful snicker in his voice as he eyed you from head to toe. “You look pretty for a Zenin.”

The unexpected comment caught you off guard. You couldn’t believe what he’s saying. No one had ever been this blunt with you. At all. You felt like you were glitching. Your face scrunches up as you narrow your lilac eyes at him.

"Excuse me?" you replied, a mix of disbelief and curiosity coloring your tone.

Satoru shrugged nonchalantly, his smile never wavering. "Just saying, you don't have that usual 'I'm better than everyone else' Zenin aura about you. It's... refreshing. Does that make sense?"

You couldn't help but smirk at his bluntness. "Well, I don't exactly fit in with my family." you admitted, the bitterness in your voice hinting at the pain behind your words. You stopped. He was literally stranger. There’s no need to say anything. “Wait, why am I telling you this?”

“Maybe I’m just a comforting person?”

“No, No, that—”

Satoru's expression softened. "Though, I think I get you, senpai. I get that. Not everyone fits into the mold they're given. But hey, that's not necessarily a bad thing. I mean, you’re already cooler than the rest of your ugly—”

You snicker suddenly.

He looks at you for a moment.

You cough back, waving him off.

“Just a cough, don’t worry.”

“I don’t know, Zenin-senpai. That sounds like a laugh to me.”

"And what about you, Gojo Satoru? Do you fit the mold?" You say, changing the topic. Saying too much will only be a headache.

He laughed, a sound so carefree it was almost contagious. "Me? I'm the mold-breaker," he declared confidently. "I do things my way, and if people don't like it, well, that's their problem. But who are they to stop me anyway? I’m the strongest!”

You couldn’t help but be intrigued by the boy. If it wasn’t for how genuine he is, you would think his latter comment was condescending. But you feel like there was more to him than that. His eyes tell. For the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. A glimmer of life itself was in him and you could tell that easily.

This Gojo boy, with his easy going smile and unwavering confidence, was different. He didn't see you as just another Zenin, and that was a revelation. He reminded you of Kaiko for a bit. And that for a moment gave you heartache. But you don’t want to tell him that. You doubt it was proper.

"Maybe breaking the mold isn't such a bad idea, I think." you mused, a small smile playing on your lips.

Satoru's grin widened. "That's the spirit, senpai. Now, how about we get this cat somewhere safe and then figure out how to break a few more molds together?"

“Hm, why not?” you hummed back at him as you took the cat in your arms. The small creature purred, nestling comfortably against you, as if sensing the new bond forming between the two of you.

Satoru's presence seemed to imbue the world around him with a sense of joy and vitality. His easygoing demeanor and infectious energy were like a beacon of light in the midst of the wide echo of the school grounds. As you walked beside him, you couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly he seemed to navigate through life, as if every challenge was nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience.

It was a stark contrast to your own experiences, weighed down by the burdens of your past and the responsibilities that now rested on your shoulders. Yet, despite the heaviness that often threatened to engulf you, being in Satoru's presence brought a sense of relief, a temporary reprieve from the weight of your worries.

There was something magnetic about the way he carried himself, a confidence and self-assuredness that seemed to radiate from within. It was as if he possessed an inner strength that allowed him to face whatever challenges came his way with grace and resilience.

As you observed him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration and awe. Here was someone who had faced his own share of hardships and yet still managed to find joy in the simple pleasures of life. It was a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was always hope, always a reason to keep moving forward.

In Satoru's lightness, you found a source of inspiration, a reminder to embrace each moment with an open heart and a willingness to face whatever the future may hold. And as you walked beside him, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope stirring within you, a belief that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a brighter tomorrow waiting on the horizon.

"So, Zenin–senpai," Satoru began, breaking the comfortable silence, "what's your story? What makes you different from the rest of your clan?"

You glanced at him, contemplating how much to reveal. "It's a long story and too dull. I doubt it’s one to be heard." you replied cautiously. "Let's just say I don't agree with their methods. Or their values…..Or actually anything.”

Satoru nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I get that. Sometimes family can be the hardest to stand up to. But you seem strong enough to handle it. You got out.”

You gave a small, humorless laugh. "Strength isn't always enough. And I’m not yet out. I bear the last name.”

“But you don’t live in Zenin manor?” He hums, questioningly. “If you had, I would have seen you many times.”

“I did see you many times, before.”

“HUH? Then how come I haven’t seen you before?” His face contorts into a pitiful pout. “I would have noticed a Zenin like you — let alone that geezer’s eldest grandchild.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, really. But you never greet people.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. I was there.”

“Isn’t my presence enough as a greeting?” Gojo asks, almost haughtily. You want to smack him, but you hold yourself back. He’s such a brat. “I mean, I am a miracle, senpai.”

“No wonder Yaga complains about you.” You mumbled under your breath. “And it’s only the first year?”

“Hehhhhh, he complains about me?”

“Principal Gakuganji’s happier, if I’m being honest.” You look at him, as he seems curious. “Yaga complaints about you and that other boy—”

“Suguru got mentioned? Woah–”

“You both cause him high blood pressure.” You finally finished. 

Satoru's expression shifted from curiosity to amusement as you revealed the cause of Principal Gakuganji's stress. "High blood pressure, huh?" he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I guess we do have a talent for causing trouble."

You nodded, a playful glint in your eye. "It's a special skill you and Geto-san seem to excel at." you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

Satoru grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, what can I say? We're just too irresistible for our own good."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm. Despite the challenges and chaos that seemed to follow him wherever he went, there was something undeniably charming about Satoru's carefree attitude. It was as if he refused to let anything dampen his spirits, choosing instead to find joy in the most unexpected places. The quiet came again between the two of you.

“Sometimes, it's about finding the right people to stand with you."

“Hm?” Satoru looks at you, his cerulean blue piercing towards you.

“That would get you by.” You made it clear to him as you shifted the cat against your kimono’s sleeves. “But I suppose from what I heard, you and the other first years get along well enough. Continue that.”

Satoru's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Well, you've got me now too, senpai. And trust me, I'm pretty good at standing up to people. Aren’t I the one that made Principal Gakuganji nearly shit himself?”

“Language.” You tell him as he rolled his eyes. But he was right. Principal Gakuganji felt like he was about to whip out his guitar when he first met Gojo Satoru. At least that’s what Utahime told you. “I know you’re good at standing up to people. But I hope you’re careful, hm?”

“Oh, is that a senpai’s advice?”

“A friend’s advice.”

“You already view us as friends?” He seemed hopeful about that. His eyes were gleaming brighter than ever before.

You chuckled softly, the warmth settling between you. "I suppose I do," you admitted, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Though, if you keep pestering Principal Gakuganji, I might have to reconsider."

“Ehhhhhhhh, but I don’t like him.”

You laughed, shaking your head. "Fair enough. Just try not to give him too much of a headache, alright?"

“I can’t promise anything about that, senpai.”

As you approached the dormitory, the cat still nestled peacefully in your arms, you felt a sense of optimism that had been absent for far too long. Maybe, with Satoru by your side, you could carve out a new path, one that defied the expectations and limitations of your clan. Or at least free you, at least just a little.

Satoru opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, feeling the warmth of the building embrace you. "So, where should we take this little guy?" he asked, looking at the cat.

"There's a place in the courtyard where some of the strays gather. It should be safe there for the little one." you suggested.

Satoru nodded, and together you made your way to the courtyard. As you set the cat down gently among the other strays, it looked up at you with grateful eyes before scampering off to join its new companions.

"See? One problem has already been solved by the great Satoru!" Satoru said with a grin. "Now, onto the next one."

You turned to him, a newfound determination in your eyes. "And what's the next one, exactly?"

He shrugged, his smile never fading. "Whatever we decide it is. The sky's the limit, senpai."

As you stood there, side by side with Gojo Satoru, you felt a spark of hope ignite within you. You didn’t remember him being this expressive or at all talkative all these years ago. But then again, you hadn’t met him in years. He had time to become the boy who met you now. 

"It was nice to meet you today, Zenin-senpai. Really didn't think I'll meet you this soon!" Satoru said, setting the cat down gently. "But y'u know, I think you and this cat have something in common."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "Oh? What's that?"

He smiled, a hint of mischief in his cerulean eyes. "Both of you need someone to look out for you."

You looked away, the truth of his words hitting a little too close to home. You can’t believe how easily he sees through you. You just met this boy today and he’s already doing so much. You lived a lonely existence, you know that much. You were content with that. At least that’s what you always say to yourself.

"Maybe." you admitted quietly.

Satoru's expression softened. "Well, how about this? I'll look out for you if you look out for the cat. Deal?"

You couldn't help but smile at his earnestness. "Deal."

You did end up adopting the cat. Despite its initial skittishness, it soon settled into your life, providing an unexpected source of comfort and companionship. You named it "Gojonyan," inspired by the snowy white fur that reminded you so much of Satoru’s hair. And even more coincidentally, Satoru’s blue eyes. 

Gojonyan had a playful and mischievous nature, always getting into places it shouldn't and constantly seeking attention. It would often curl up in your lap, purring contentedly as you stroked its soft fur, and you found solace in its presence. The cat’s energy and spirit mirrored Satoru's in uncanny ways. Just like him, Gojonyan seemed to have an endless reserve of curiosity and an unshakeable confidence, as if it knew it was meant to be part of your life.

Whenever you felt overwhelmed by the weight of your responsibilities or the shadows of your past, Gojonyan was there, a reminder of the moment your life began to change. The cat’s antics often brought a smile to your face, and its loyalty reminded you of Satoru’s steadfast support. 

One evening, as you sat in your room with Gojonyan curled up beside you, you couldn't help but think back to that day by the tree. Satoru had shown you a new way to look at the world, a way that wasn't defined by loss and heartache. He had given you hope, and in a strange way, Gojonyan had come to symbolize that hope.

You often found yourself talking to Gojonyan, sharing your thoughts and fears as if the cat could understand every word. "You know, Gojonyan," you would say, scratching behind its ears, "you’re a lot like Satoru. Always so full of life and mischief. I think you two would get along just fine."

Gojonyan would respond with a soft purr, its eyes half-closed in contentment. You didn’t know if he was agreeing with you or not. But you still found your little one very cute. And comforting too. It was as if the cat understood the significance of Gojo Satoru’s presence in your life and the role it now played in helping you heal. And you feel like you are healing. 

You often brought Gojonyan with you when you came by to Jujutsu High, especially when you had missions in Tokyo. The cat had become a familiar presence, trotting alongside you with an air of confidence that belied its small size. You enjoyed the company, and it seemed only natural to bring a piece of your new life with you.

However, you found yourself puzzled by Gojonyan’s behavior whenever Satoru was around. Despite the cat’s generally friendly disposition, it seemed to have taken a distinct dislike to him. The usually affectionate feline would arch its back and hiss whenever Satoru approached, much to his chagrin.

One afternoon, you were sitting in the common area of Jujutsu High with Gojonyan on your lap. Shoko and Suguru were there as well, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation between their duties. Satoru walked in, his usual confident swagger in place, but the moment Gojonyan spotted him, it let out a low growl and jumped off your lap, retreating to a corner.

Satoru’s shoulders slumped dramatically, and he looked at you with exaggerated sorrow. “Why does Gojonyan hate me, Gen-senpai? I thought we were friends!” His tone was a mix of genuine disappointment and playful theatrics.

Shoko chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s probably your personality, Satoru. Cats can sense these things. And yours is just that bad.”

Suguru smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, Satoru. Maybe it’s because you’re too loud and flashy. Gojonyan prefers a more refined company.”

Satoru's eyebrows shot up in mock offense. "Hey now, I'll have you know my personality is top-notch! It's just that Gojonyan hasn't acquired a taste for the finer things in life yet." He flashed them a playful grin, clearly unfazed by their teasing.

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that.” Shoko snickers, biting against her lollipop candy. 

“Suguru, defend me here!”

Suguru shrugged nonchalantly. "Can't argue with the truth, can we?" He smirked, his eyes dancing with amusement as he leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying Satoru's playful indignation.

Satoru huffed playfully, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine, fine. But just you wait, Gojonyan will come around eventually. He'll see that I'm not so bad after all."

In the midst of all the tension and seriousness surrounding recent events, the playful banter between Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru provided a welcome reprieve. As laughter filled the room, you felt a weight lifting off your shoulders, if only for a moment. It was a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there could still be moments of lightness and joy.

Satoru feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart in mock indignation. "Watch my words! Gojonyan will be in my hands lovingly! One day!," he retorted with a grin. "Gojonyan just needs to learn to appreciate my finer qualities."

Shoko shook her head, still smiling. "Sure, Satoru. Let that copium enter your lungs. I’m cheering for that cope!”

Suguru's smirk widened as he leaned forward, his gaze meeting yours with a knowing twinkle. "Don't worry, Genmei–senpai. We still like you, even if your taste in friends is questionable."

You rolled your eyes playfully, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging wash over you. Despite the challenges you had faced, you were grateful for moments like these — moments of laughter that reminded you that you were not alone. Not anymore.

You couldn’t help but laugh at their teasing. “I have no idea why Gojonyan doesn’t like you, Satoru. Maybe it’s just one of those things.”

Satoru sighed dramatically, plopping down on the couch with a forlorn expression. “This is tragic. I, the great Gojo Satoru, was defeated by a cat.”

Shoko leaned over and patted his shoulder mockingly. “There, there. Maybe if you try bribing Gojonyan with treats, it’ll come around.”

Satoru perked up at the suggestion, his eyes lighting up with determination. “That’s a great idea, Sho! I’ll win Gojonyan’s affection—”

“So, vote buying—” 

“—just you wait.” He stood up, already plotting his next move. Suguru just shook his head. “I’ll get the finest cat treats money can buy.”

Suguru rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “Good luck with that. Just don’t be too heartbroken if it doesn’t work.”

Despite his efforts, Gojonyan remained indifferent to Satoru’s attempts to win it over. He brought a variety of treats, toys, and even a plush bed, but the cat was unimpressed. It would sniff the offerings disdainfully and then pointedly ignore him, much to everyone’s amusement.

One day, Satoru sat next to you, watching Gojonyan with a wistful expression. “I don’t get it, Gen-senpai. I thought all creatures loved me.”

You smiled, reaching over to pat his hand. “Maybe Gojonyan just needs more time to get used to you. Or maybe it’s just being stubborn.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You know, I think I’m starting to like the challenge. It keeps me on my toes.”

Despite the cat’s continued aloofness, Gojo Satoru’s efforts never wavered. He took it in stride, turning it into a personal mission to win over Gojonyan. It became a running joke among your friends, a source of lighthearted banter.

But he’ll probably never get along with him.

You were right about that assumption.

Ten years of marriage, Gojonyan still hated him.

YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT HIS REACTION WOULD BE LIKE. Gojo Satoru returned from his mission late in the evening, his white hair glistening with the remnants of rain. He didn’t get to use infinity as much this time, the creature being more clever than he would have liked. And he was exhausted now. He sighed as he brushed off the thread of rain on his head. 

As Satoru stepped through the threshold of your home, the familiar comfort of your shared space wrapped around him like a warm embrace. The weight of his journey, the trials and tribulations he had faced during his time away, seemed to lift from his shoulders in an instant. Home, with you, was where he truly belonged, where the chaos of the outside world faded into insignificance against the backdrop of your love and companionship.

The soft glow of lamplight spilled into the hallway, casting gentle shadows on the walls as Satoru made his way further into the house. Tsumiki and Megumi were likely already fast asleep in their beds, the rhythmic sound of their breathing a comforting background melody to the quiet of the night. But even in their slumber, their presence filled the air, a reminder of the love and warmth that permeated every corner of your home.

And then, there was you. The thought of seeing you again after his prolonged absence filled Satoru with a sense of eager anticipation, a longing that had grown with each passing day spent apart. He could almost feel the ghost of your touch, the warmth of your smile, as he approached the living room where you were likely waiting for him.

The mere thought of being enveloped in your embrace, of feeling your arms around him and your soft breath against his skin, sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. After being so cold and alone for what felt like an eternity, the prospect of being with you again, of being surrounded by your love and warmth, filled him with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and joy.

With each step closer to you, Satoru's heart beats faster in his chest, his anticipation growing with every passing moment. He couldn't wait to see you, to hold you in his arms and whisper words of love and longing into your ear. For in that moment, with you by his side, he knew that he was home.

The anticipation buzzed through the air as you waited for Satoru's arrival, your heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves. The decision to cut your hair had been a bold one, a symbolic gesture of breaking free from the past and embracing a new chapter of your life with Satoru. Yet, as you watched the seconds tick by, doubts crept in, and you couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your shirt, your fingers tapping anxiously against your thigh.

The sound of the door opening pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to see Satoru stepping into the room, a bright smile lighting up his face as his eyes met yours. But as his gaze swept over you, his expression faltered ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before being replaced by curiosity.

You held your breath, your pulse quickening with anticipation as you waited for his reaction. Would he like your new look? Would he be disappointed? The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you fought the urge to chew on your lip nervously as you watched him approach.

Satoru stopped in front of you, his bright eyes locked on your face as he took in your appearance. There was a moment of silence between you, the air thick with unspoken tension as you searched his expression for any sign of approval or disapproval.

“Satoru, welcome home!” you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. You turned your eyes away slowly. “I, uh…”

He stops at his tracks. “You cut your hair.”

 “I... I cut my hair.”

As Satoru turned to behold you, his eyes widened in surprise, taking in the sight of your transformed appearance. For a fleeting moment, he simply stood there, his gaze fixed upon you, as if trying to imprint the image of you with your new hairstyle into his memory. The silence between you stretched, pregnant with anticipation, as he processed the change that had taken place in his absence.

Then, like the breaking dawn after a long night, a slow, warm smile unfurled across his features. It started from the corners of his lips, spreading gradually until his entire face was illuminated with genuine delight. The smile reached his eyes, transforming them into twin pools of warmth and affection as he looked upon you.

In that moment, you could see the flicker of recognition in his gaze, the silent acknowledgment of the courage it must have taken for you to make such a bold decision. But more than that, you could sense the depth of his appreciation, the unspoken admiration for the beauty that radiated from within you, regardless of the length of your hair.

It was a smile that spoke volumes, conveying a multitude of emotions in its simple curve. It was a smile of acceptance, of love, of unwavering support for the choices you had made. And in that smile, you found reassurance, a silent affirmation that you were cherished and adored just as you were, in every form and iteration. One that you hadn’t seen in a long time. And Satoru somehow has the kindest one you’ve ever seen before. The most precious.

As Gojo Satoru crossed the room to stand before you, his smile remained firmly in place, a beacon of warmth in the quiet space between you. With each step, his love enveloped you like a protective embrace, banishing any lingering doubts or insecurities that may have lingered in the recesses of your mind.

And as he finally reached your side, he gently took your hand in his, his touch a silent reassurance of his unwavering affection. "You look beautiful," he whispered, his voice soft and filled with genuine admiration. "But then again, you always do."

Your heart swelled at his words, warmed by the sincerity in his voice. You met his gaze, finding nothing but love and acceptance reflected back at you. "Thank you," you murmured, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I was nervous about cutting it, but I'm glad you like it."

Satoru squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "You could shave your head bald and you'd still be the most beautiful person in the world to me," he said earnestly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "It's not about your hair, darling. It's about you, and you're perfect just the way you are."

A surge of warmth flooded through you at his words, dispelling any lingering uncertainty you may have felt. With Satoru by your side, you knew that you were loved unconditionally, flaws and all. And as you stood there, hand in hand, you realized that your decision to cut your hair was not about changing who you were, but rather about embracing your true self, no matter the external appearance.

You nodded, feeling a rush of relief wash over you at his seemingly positive reaction. "Yeah, I wanted a change." you explained, your voice tinged with nervousness. "I hope you like it."

Satoru's smile widened, his fingers trailing along the curve of your jaw as he studied your face. "I love it, darling" he reassured you, his voice filled with sincerity. "It suits you well enough.”

The tension melted away at his words, replaced by a warm glow of happiness that settled in the pit of your stomach. With a grateful smile, you leaned into his touch, savoring the feeling of his hand against your skin..

You blushed, looking away. “I... I wasn’t sure. I’ve never had short hair before. I did it in front of Zenin Manor, to cut ties with them. Now that I’m married to you, I’m free.”

His smile widened, and he gently cupped your face in his hands, tilting your head up so he could look into your eyes. “You’re always beautiful to me, no matter how you wear your hair. But this... this suits you. It’s like you’re stepping into a new chapter of your life.”

Despite his words, you still felt a pang of uncertainty. “Do you really think so? You’re not just saying that?”

“I mean it,” he said firmly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You look stunning, don’t worry about it. You’re free from all of them and it shows.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “Thank you, Satoru.”

He held you close for a moment, his embrace warm and comforting. But then he pulled back, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “I have something for you.” he said, reaching into his pocket.

You watched curiously as he pulled out a small box. Opening it, he revealed a pair of blue butterfly hair clips, delicately crafted with intricate details. “I found these on my mission and thought of you. I know you’ve cut your hair, but I thought these might still look nice.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and delight. “Satoru, they’re beautiful!”

He grinned, taking one of the clips and gently securing it in your hair. “I’m glad you like them. They remind me of how you’re spreading your wings now, free and beautiful.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at your reflection, the blue butterflies standing out against your short hair. “Thank you, Satoru. They’re perfect.”

He pulled you into another hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you. “Anything for you.”

To be known, to be seen — it's to be loved. The realization of this truth washed over you, bringing a flood of emotions that you could hardly contain. Happiness, relief, and a profound sense of belonging mingled together in a rush that made your heart race and your eyes well with unshed tears. For the first time, you felt truly like you had found a way to break that cycle — that cursed cycle of loss and heartache that had haunted you for so long.

As Satoru secured the delicate blue butterfly clip in your hair, his touch gentle and reverent, you couldn't hold back the words that had been building inside you. "I love you, Satoru," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "I love you."

His bright blue eyes widened in surprise, his usually confident demeanor giving way to a rare moment of vulnerability. This was the first time you had ever expressed your feelings toward him so openly, so unequivocally. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still as he absorbed your words, the significance of them settling deep within him.

"You know," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with awe. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hands against your skin, the solid presence of him grounding you in that moment. "I've never been able to say it before," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I want you to know, you mean everything to me. And I’m grateful to you. For everything.

In Satoru's gaze, there was a depth of emotion that transcended mere words. He looked at you as if you were the sun and the moon, the stars in his night sky, and the very air he breathed. It was a look that spoke of a love that knew no bounds, a love that had weathered countless trials and emerged stronger with each passing day.

In his eyes, you saw unwavering devotion, a commitment to stand by your side through thick and thin, to support you in every endeavor, and to celebrate your victories as if they were his own. It was a look that filled you with a profound sense of gratitude, knowing that you had found someone who loved you unconditionally, flaws and all.

But more than anything, in  Gojo Satoru's gaze, you saw acceptance. Acceptance of your past, your present, and your future. He saw you for who you truly were, with all your strengths and weaknesses, and loved you all the more fiercely because of it. It was a look that banished any doubts or insecurities, leaving only a sense of peace and contentment in its wake.

As you returned his gaze, you felt a bond between you that was unbreakable, a connection that transcended the physical realm and touched the very essence of your souls. In that moment, you knew with absolute certainty that you were loved, cherished, and valued beyond measure. And as you basked in the warmth of Satoru's adoring gaze, you felt a profound sense of gratitude for the gift of his love, a gift that you would treasure for all eternity.

You were so lucky in this world.

Suffering may come and go to you.

But you will be loved by him now.

He will always be there to love you.

And you could not ask for anything more.

His smile was radiant, a beacon of light that seemed to chase away the lingering shadows of your past. "I love you too, darling." he said, his voice steady and sure. "More than words can ever express."

In that moment, the bond between you felt stronger than ever, a palpable connection that went beyond mere words. You had found your way out of the darkness, breaking free from the cycle of pain and loss. With Satoru by your side, you knew that you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wanted to let you go. "We'll create our own future," he whispered into your hair, his breath warm against your ear. "Together, we'll build a life filled with love and happiness. For us, for the kids. Together.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with hope and determination. "Together." you agreed, feeling the truth of that promise settle deep within you. "We'll break the cycle and create something beautiful."

As you stood there in his embrace, the blue butterfly clips shimmering in your hair, you knew that you had finally found a place where you truly belonged. In Satoru's arms, you were home, and together, you would face whatever the future held with unwavering strength and love.

Nothing else mattered to you now.

As long as you have Satoru with you, it’s all good.

As long as you could see the light in his eyes,

As long as you could see that blue spark in them,

Heaven was sure to come through in your life.

epilogue 

The moment had finally arrived — the long-awaited introduction between Gojonyan and your son. Your husband Satoru was a bundle of nerves, pacing back and forth as he anxiously awaited Gojonyan's reaction. It was as if he was more nervous about this moment than he was when you gave birth to Satoshi. After all, the cat hadn't exactly warmed up to him in the past, and now they were about to meet the spitting image of Satoru himself.

You watched with amusement as Satoru fussed over his appearance, smoothing down his hair and straightening his clothes as if trying to make a good impression on a disapproving in-law. "Do you think he'll like me this time?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You chuckled, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Relax, Satoru. Everything will be fine."

“Look, our son looks exactly like me and I’m scared, okay?”

“Gojo Satoshi is also my son, but alright.”

You couldn't help but laugh at Satoru's admission, his nerves palpable despite his attempt at nonchalance. "I'm sure Gojonyan will see past the resemblance and appreciate you for who you are," you reassured him, trying to ease his anxiety.

Satoru shot you a grateful smile, though the worry still lingered in his eyes. He pouts. "I hope so. I don't think I can handle being rejected by a cat twice."

“My love, it was more than twice.”

“I know, I know – just trying to lower the blow, okay?”

As you both prepared to introduce your son to Gojonyan, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. This moment held so much significance — not just because it marked the beginning of a new chapter in your family's life, but because it symbolized the unbreakable bond that had formed between you, Satoru, and Gojonyan.

With your son cradled in your arms, you approached Gojonyan, who regarded you with his usual air of aloofness. Satoru stood by your side, his nerves evident as he watched the interaction unfold. As if on cue, Gojonyan sauntered into the room, his tail swishing lazily behind him. He regarded Satoru with a curious gaze, then turned his attention to your son, who was cradled in your arms.

Satoru held his breath, waiting for the inevitable hiss or swat of disapproval. But much to your surprise — and relief — Gojonyan's reaction was far from what you expected. Instead of recoiling at the sight of your son, the cat approached him with cautious curiosity, sniffing him delicately before nuzzling against his cheek.

Satoru's eyes widened in disbelief as he watched the scene unfold. "I think... I think he actually likes him," he whispered, his voice tinged with wonder. “Oh my god, he does!”

You couldn't help but smile at the sight, feeling a surge of warmth and happiness wash over you. "Looks like you were worried for nothing, Satoru."

You laugh at the sight, marveling at the unexpected turn of events. "Looks like Gojonyan has a new favorite, though.”

Satoru let out a relieved sigh, his shoulders relaxing as he watched the unlikely bond form between his former nemesis and his beloved son. "I guess you were right," he admitted, a hint of awe in his voice. "Who would've thought that our son would be the one to finally win Gojonyan over?"

“Well, he is quite too cute to ignore.” You grinned at your husband. 

As if to confirm Satoru's observation, Gojonyan let out a contented purr, curling up beside your son as if he had known him forever. Satoru's nervousness melted away, replaced by a sense of wonder and joy as he watched the unlikely bond form between his feline nemesis and his beloved son.

Your husband then pauses. "But wait…. Why does he hate me? Satoshi looks exactly like me….”

You grinned at him teasingly. “Maybe it's because he sees you as competition for my love, hm?" you teased, enjoying the playful banter with your husband. "After all, he's used to being the center of attention, and you were always the ‘Gojo' in town stealing his spotlight. Satoshi isn’t doing that, though!”

Satoru's eyes widened in mock realization, a mischievous gleam dancing in them. "Ah, I see. It's a classic case of jealousy, huh?" he remarked, playing along with your playful theory. "Well, I suppose I can't blame him. After all, who wouldn't be envious of someone as charming and handsome as me?"

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh at his exaggerated self-assessment. "Oh, of course, how could I forget?" you replied with a smirk, poking fun at his inflated ego. "But, my love, I think Gojonyan just has his own unique way of showing affection. Maybe he's just a tough critic, and you'll have to work extra hard to win him over."

Satoru grinned at your suggestion, the challenge evident in his eyes. "Challenge accepted," he declared, his determination shining through. "I'll make sure Gojonyan becomes my number one fan."

“Well, ten years is a lot. But what’s another ten more, hm?”

“Yeah, why not!? Ten more years!”

You couldn't help but chuckle at your husband's enthusiasm, admiring his unwavering determination to win over Gojonyan, even if it took years. "Well, they do say patience is a virtue," you replied with a teasing grin, enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. "And who knows, maybe in ten years, you'll have Gojonyan eating out of the palm of your hand."

Satoru's grin widened at your response, his confidence unshaken. "Exactly!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Besides, what's life without a little challenge, right? And if anyone can charm Gojonyan, it's me."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a surge of affection for your husband as you admired his unwavering optimism and resilience. "That's the spirit," you replied, reaching out to squeeze his hand affectionately. "With your charm and charisma, there's nothing you can't accomplish."

He grins at you. “Well, I am the strongest, after all!”

“You’re so silly.” You shake your head at him, smiling lovingly at him.

“But you love me, hm?”

“Unfortunately, I do.” You hummed teasingly.

He pouts as he slumps against you. “Huh!? What do you mean unfortunately? Does the vows mean nothing now? Darling….”

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful pout, finding his antics endearing as always. "Oh, you know what I mean," you teased, playfully poking his side. "You're just too irresistible for your own good."

Satoru's pout turned into a mock expression of hurt, complete with exaggerated hand gestures. "Ah, the burden of being so incredibly charming!" he lamented dramatically, earning another round of laughter from you.

"But in all seriousness," you said, your tone softening as you gazed into his bright eyes, "I wouldn't have it any other way. You're my partner in crime, my confidant, my best friend. And even on your silliest days, I wouldn't trade you for the world."

His expression softened at your heartfelt words, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Likewise, darling." he replied, reaching out to cup your cheek affectionately. "You're my rock, my anchor. I don't know where I'd be without you."

In that moment, surrounded by love and laughter, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm. And with a playful grin, you leaned in to press a loving kiss to his lips, knowing that your bond was unshakably true as much as your love eternal.

[thatgenderfluidmonstrosity]

@friendlesscat

Here’s your Kaeya and Diluc angst/comfort!

It’s not as whumpy as I wanted it to be, but I love it, and I hope you do too!

“Captain! Captain!” He heard a voice scream.

One by one, his team was getting picked off.

“CAPTAIN KAEYA!” He heard their pleas, “HELP!”

Their cries for help. His vision was blurry, and his body staggered in pain. How much longer could he keep going?

“Must- keep…. fighting…” He muttered, struggling to hold his sword.

It was raining, which was supposed to give him an advantage- but who would expect a rogue Ruin Hunter would appear in the middle of Wolvendom Woods?

His team certainly did not.

“C-Captain! What do we-”

The voices- the fear and terror.

He couldn’t help them. He couldn’t even help himself.

As the screams died down, and the rain and thunder pounded in his ears- he felt his body become lighter.

Was this it? Was he dying? After everything- the traitor meets a cruel end. Was it really cruel though? Such a fate must be fit for someone like him. He was losing consciousness- he knew that much. He tried to stay up, but he knew that resistance was futile. His wounds were too much to bear, and the Ruin Hunter wasn’t letting up. It sharpened its weapon, ready to strike the last man standing.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered.

He didn’t quite know who exactly he was apologizing to. To his teammates, who he failed when they needed him? Was it to Jean; whom he failed as a captain? Or to Diluc? For failing him as a brother? Maybe to Crepus; for failing him as a son.

It didn’t matter who. He failed all of them. Even his own father, who abandoned him.

His life was a failure. A waste. And he was sorry to anyone who knew him.

His body hit the ground- it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the other wounds he had.

And as he closed his eyes, he felt warm…

He also saw light. Was it “the light”? Like when you die? No… it was… red… and flaming…

He didn’t expect to wake up. Nor did he expect to be on a cart, rolling towards Dawn Winery.

Oh… Here I am… once again…

It was bittersweet, in a way. How he was bleeding out, being taken towards the place where he had first been abandoned.

He couldn’t speak- only look around. He caught sight of the brooding red-haired man that was wheeling him back. Only… he didn’t look so brooding… Was it a trick of his near-death hallucinations, or was Diluc…

He couldn’t form many thoughts before he blacked out again.

The next time he woke up, he was inside of Dawn Winery, laying on a fancy red sofa. He only hoped it was red before he got there.

He realized he was awake enough to hear speaking, but only bits.

“Found him… tell Jean… others… only survivor…”

The words rang through his ears. His stomach dropped.

It didn’t matter if he lived or died through this experience. All that mattered was that he had to carry the knowledge that he failed his team. A bunch of excellent knights… gone. Dead. And it was his fault. It was always his fault- Crepus was his fault- Losing his brother was his fault-

Why did he have to be such a failure?

He couldn't tell if it was blood or a tear that dripped down his cheek. It was his right eye too. Maybe the world thought he needed a real reason to wear his eye patch.

He didn’t realize that the conversation he overheard was now over. He only noticed that when Diluc started to approach him.

“Kae…” He muttered.

A nickname he hadn’t heard in so long… Diluc must’ve thought that he was still asleep.

“I… I’m sorry… For everything. You… you’re a great knight, really. You don’t need to be so hard on yourself all the time. I know the front that you put up. A respectable knight who has everything together. But that's not the real you… Not the one I know at least.”

Kaeya kept his eyes and mouth closed, but holding his “unconscious” expression was difficult.

You don’t need to apologize… all of it was my fault.

“You’re gonna blame yourself for all this, I know you will, but… it's not your fault. No one would expect a Ruin Hunter to pop up in those woods. And no one would expect you to take it on, especially since you weren’t prepared for a fight. I’ve already sent some people out to retrieve the other knight's bodies and I've got a hawk sending a message to the Acting Grand Master. By the time you wake up… you’ll be back in Mondstadt.”

Kaeya had half the mind to get up and protest him that moment. He wanted to speak to him. To tell him everything that he felt.

The other part of him wanted to stay silent. To wait and listen.

But no part of him wanted to miss the chance to speak to his brother.

“I don’t know why I’m still talking to you. You’ll be briefed on all this when you can actually hear people. I just… I guess I wanted to give us both some comfort. I get to talk to you without your mask, and… you can listen.”

He heard Diluc take a deep breath. It… quivered.

“It wasn’t… easy, Kaeya… losing both you and father on the same day… You must know now that your timing wasn’t… great. But… Kae, if I had the chance to go back and change everything, I would.”

Now this wouldn’t have been Kaeya’s chosen time to “awaken” from his slumber, but his body had other plans.

He shot up, coughing as if he was trying desperately to lose a lung.

He heard Diluc gasp a bit, then saw him stand.

“Argh-” He grumbled, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Here.” Diluc offered him a rag, to wipe up the blood that shot from his mouth.

Kaeya took a moment to cough some more, then laid back on the couch.

“Are you alright? How do you feel? Adelinde, can you bring me a glass of water-?” Diluc bombarded him with questions, sitting back down.

“I-I'm fine… I'm fine. You sound like-” He coughed some more, deciding to just sit up instead.

“Dad?” Diluc finished.

“...Yeah…” Kaeya muttered, looking away.

There was silence.

Kaeya observed his now wrapped wounds. His hand reached for his right eye.

Diluc looked away, fiddling with his hands.

“It's not that bad, right?” Kaeya jokes.

Diluc didn’t look at him.

More silence.

“…Maybe… Maybe I should just get going-” He said.

“No. No no no, you are staying on this couch till someone arrives to take you back to the city.” Diluc said, standing up and blocking the couch.

“I’ll be fine.” Kaeya countered.

“Fine!? You’re literally bleeding everywhere!” Diluc said, frustratingly.

“Better for me to bleed on the grass instead of your couch.” Kaeya muttered, attempting to stand.

Diluc sighed, stepping away.

“Fine, you can leave, only if you can manage to get to the door all by yourself without falling over.”

Kaeya scoffed before taking one step and collapsing.

He then started to cough even more, but this time, he couldn’t breath in.

“Kaeya!” Diluc exclaimed, helping him up immediately. “I expected you to fall over, but not to immediately start dying!”

“Here, Master Diluc.” Adelinde said, handing him a glass of water.

Adelinde helped Kaeya back to sitting on the couch, and Diluc handed him the water.

He downed it, only taking seconds to breathe.

“Careful- I don’t want you vomiting everywhere too.” Diluc scolded.

Kaeya set the glass on the table beside him.

“Sure thing, Master Diluc.” He muttered, sounding upset or angry, like his voice was filled with disdain.

“Don't say it like that…” Diluc muttered.

“Like what?” Kaeya asked snarkily.

“Like you hate me.” Diluc said, looking him in the eye.

…

“Yeah, okay…” Kaeya said, looking down.

…

Diluc got up to leave.

I don’t hate you. I don’t hate you. I don’t hate you. Please don’t leave-

“...I don’t hate you.” Kaeya said.

Diluc turned to him.

“Kaeya-”

“No. Let me speak…” He said, his expression was… sad.

“I don’t hate you, or what you do. I might’ve thought I hated you for a while, but I didn’t. Truth is… I've… missed you. I've missed my brother. And I know I’ve screwed up. I’ve hated myself ever since Crepus died. Ever since I ruined this family. And… and I would do the same thing.”

Diluc was speechless.

“The… ‘same thing’?” He asked.

“If I had the chance to go back in time and change things, I would. But part of me… if given the chance, would have never let us meet. Then maybe you’d still have your position in the knights, and maybe you’d still be happy and bright, and maybe you’d still have your dad-”

He hadn’t noticed the tears that started to roll down his cheeks.

He also didn’t notice that Diluc had started to approach him- till he was enveloped in a hug.

“Our dad…” Diluc whispered.

“....right…” Kaeya smiled, sniffling.

He wrapped his hands around Diluc, nuzzling his head into his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too. But I guess I don’t need to tell you that, since i'm assuming you were awake during my whole monologue…”

“Yeah, I was…”

“Always the better actor.” Diluc said, exiting the hug.

“Of course,” Kaeya laughed, “Someone had to sneak us into the Knights training sessions, and your fake crying wasn’t going to cut it.”

“Yeah yeah…”

Link to the fic on Ao3 if you wanna give it kudos there!

[chizups]

I enter this small church, and it’s all like a fever dream: light suddenly changes, people’s faces get blurry, then their whole bodies are erased from existence. Maybe it’s just my broken wicked perception of the reality I found myself in, but Father is still there, the only one, and when turned to me, he seems to be confused as well. So, I guess this one time we share the feeling finally. Oh, how much I hate this man, yet reasons for this hatred are unclear to me, and despite feeling this anger boiling hot within myself, I have an understanding most perfect: as much as I am furious, I am enchanted by his person. But Father looks concerned. Must be because I walk towards him screaming words of hate and resentment, curses and cries of the disoriented and afraid. And the more steps I take, the closer I am to the verge of my tears spilling. Does he even get what I’m saying? Could he understand? No, he doesn’t! No men do! I’m telling him how lost I feel, how scared I am, that I was left alone by someone I do not even remember, but whoever it was, I loved them dearly. And this nearest and dearest of mine left me here, threw me at Joseph’s feet like an unwanted child, and somehow this is Joseph’s fault, because someone is to blame and there is no other name, I am able to hear in my head or outside of it. I feel something changing behind my back. Scenery shifting, windows are moving on the walls, that are melting in places where only I can see, and Joseph doesn’t notice, though I can’t be sure if any of this actually happening. My body is contorting when I make more steps and I shed more tears. Did I do something wrong to be left like that? What was it? For such a cruel fate of not even knowing my own name, walking through life with a pain not just in my heart, but my soul. Unexplainable. Unceasing. Incurable by any men, including Father. He just talks and talks, like any other does. To shut his lying mouth will be a pleasure and a great service to all. Wish I was able to raise my hand… And I do. His tall figure blackens in my tired watery eyes, his silhouette gets fuzzy, noisy, and for a few moments he looks or rather feels so much more familiar to me, so dear. For these few moments I know this person, I love this person I come towards. I raise my arms, but not to strike down an enemy of mine. He opens his embrace for me, my shivering body almost falls into the black noise, and it closes around me, covers my shoulders, strokes my unkept hair, pushes my face into it’s chest. I do feel safe in here. I close my eyes, trying to capture this sense of being accepted, protected, understood by that… silhouette of someone I knew. This is someone I miss. A person I broke my heart over. Then I feel buttons under my cheek. That shirt I pressed against turned white again. That’s Father hugging me.

- I’m sorry, Father, - I cry with a whisper, - I’m so sorry, I don’t feel well. I’m so lost.

- You were lost. I found you.

There are sun rays coming through the stained glass. What was I talking about again?..

[kittyball23]

I'm in the Band! (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: The day before BroZone’s fateful show, the bros try and decide on an outfit for Baby Branch to debut in

A/N: Taking place before TBT

__________________________________________

“This is… not going to work,” Spruce said resolutely.

The purple-haired Trolling scrunched his nose. His baby brother in no doubt looked cute – too cute for his own good – but how was he supposed to bust a move with them onstage with this… this clown’s outfit?

All right, the outfit wasn’t that bad. It was the same outfit that he and his brothers wore every time – a colorful vest, and the long white slacks. Problem was… Baby Branch was not quite the same size as them yet, something that John Dory hadn’t taken into consideration at the time that he put the outfit together for Branch. The blue vest covered Branch’s entire little body, his eyes hardly able to peek out from the top of the garment. The pants hung almost like a gown’s train behind him, far too long and annoying to keep from tripping on.

Next to Spruce, John Dory blew a raspberry. “Ah, it’s fine! He’ll grow into it.” He paused, and then added, “eventually.”

Clay, who also felt as uncertain as Spruce, glanced at his brother. “Right… but we’re not going on stage eventually. We’re going to go onstage with him tomorrow. That’s only 24 hours from now, bro!”

“And I can tell you right now,” Floyd chimed in, “this might be our style, but it is not his.” He picked up one of the loose pant legs and shook it for emphasis. “Not yet anyway,” he added.

“So you’re going to have to find something else for him to wear. Unless you want us to mess up the choreography,” Spruce concluded.

To give even more finality to the point, Baby Branch peered down at the attire and then innocently looked back up at John Dory with his large eyes. “My clothes don’t fit,” he whimpered.

John Dory, at a loss, sighed, seeing that they were correct. “Okay… fine.” He went off, rummaging through their stuff, until he pulled something else out. “How about this?” He held up another outfit that also looked far too large.

“No, JD,” Spruce sighed. “Just look at how small he is!”

“Well, he can’t just perform in his diaper!” John Dory insisted.

“Dude, I’m sure it’ll be alright. He’s just a baby,” Clay pointed out.

John Dory refused to give up. He searched again and then snapped his fingers in triumph. “Ah ha! This’ll be good!” In his hands he held up a small pair of glasses, round framed and bright white. “These were my old shades. Not as cool as the ones I have now, but hey, they fit my face back then.” He went over to Branch and then gently placed them on his face. “Alright, now how do ya like that, bro?”

Branch blinked, thinking, allowing himself to get a feel for it. A part of him wished he could have a cool puffy jacket like his brothers, but the glasses were still fun! So much fun, in fact, that the small baby went and toddled onto his feet and started busting out a few adorable moves of his own. “I love it!”

 The brothers grinned broadly and exchanged high-fives, triumphant in finding their resolution.

“Boo-ya!” John Dory cried, striking a fly pose. “Now you’re just as brodacious as the rest of us!” He scooped Branch up into his arms and began to head off with Spruce, Clay, and Floyd in tow. “Come on, little bro. It’s time to get ready to debut Bitty B!”

The other brothers snickered. “Bitty B?” Spruce questioned.

“Come on, dude, you’re going to tell me that you don’t like it?” JD smirked.

The purple Trolling shrugged. “It’s all right.” He didn’t want to fret too much over a nickname for the little guy. Regardless of what it was – or what any of their nicknames were for that matter - he knew that the crowd would still love them all the same.

[nakachuchu]

CHAPTER ONE: FEAR AND LOVE

Golden Child Series

SYNOPSIS: Not all families were the same.

WARNING: This chapter contains SA.

WORDS: 1k

WRITTEN: 08/16/2023

You were perfectly normal.

Although you yourself couldn't remember, you were normal. You had two parents who loved you and a puppy your father gifted you for Christmas when you were five.

But you didn't remember your parents. Your aunt and uncle took you in after your parents died in a car accident.

Your aunt, who looked at you with pity, held a striking resemblance to your mother. Your uncle, who couldn't keep his eyes off you, reminded you of a smelly pig.

The first week they took you in was normal. You grieved as any child would and your puppy comforted you with his own cries.

The second week — where you were still grieving — you were met with annoyed shouts as to why a child still needed to cry.

That very week, your uncle threw out your puppy, the last thing your father ever gave you. He died in the streets, unable to feed himself and find the proper housing.

The more you cried, the more angry your uncle become. He took to locking you away for hours on end until your cousin, his 10-year-old daughter, let you out in the dead of night while he was sleeping.

She was the only kind one in that household. Even your aunt held her tongue, looking away whenever her husband did anything that any normal parent wouldn't do.

You lived like that for months until you no longer produced tears. Even at your young age, you finally realized that your tears only spurred him on.

You lived life numb. You would wake up and go to school, then come home and listen to the ramblings of your uncle.

When you turned six, no one celebrated your birthday. Your cousin didn't know your birthday and your aunt and uncle didn't bother.

This was your life, forgotten and invisible. You were still grieving all the death going on in your life. Your tiny body couldn't even begin to process what you had been through.

You didn't even know the emotions you were feeling on the inside, and at a certain point, it all began to jumble together.

You didn't know what happiness, anger, joy, or sadness was. Everything felt the same.

You would have gladly chosen that fate for the rest of your life until your dying breath over what had actually happened to you.

Your uncle was taken to you.

Your soulless eyes and mouth that only opened for food that served as nutrition and not food only made him excited.

Despite the fact that you were now only seven, he couldn't keep his hands off of you.

He stalked into your room in the dead of night, sweaty hand covering your mouth as his hands pulled at your pajamas.

You remembered this emotion very clearly: fear.

You were frozen, unable to process what fear was and what your uncle was doing.

Then, all you could think was "Die." That single word repeated over and over again in your head as your skin was exposed to the cool air of your bedroom.

"Emi's too old now," he said.

His daughter was only twelve. Had he been doing this to his own daughter all these years? Twelve was too old for him?

He was a monster and he deserved to die.

At the sound of his pants rustling, your actions became more frantic. Your body was screaming for help and for him to get away.

You didn't know what he was doing but your body and mind knew it wasn't good. What he was doing was wrong and terribly frightening.

Die.

Die.

Die.

Die, die, die.

DIE!

Then the warm splatter of blood caressed your cheeks and it reminded you of your mother's hands who you hadn't felt in so long.

A part of you was brought back at that moment and tears filled your eyes.

Your uncle's hand fell from your mouth and you kicked his body off the bed. It landed with a loud thud.

"Ama, it's alright, my love."

Your eyes met with soulless black eyes. This was a man you had never seen before. His skin was such a deep purple that you were sure it was fiction.

“Chiaki, don't frighten her.”

Chiaki moved away from you, so that a woman who had the same black eyes and purple skin could hold your head in her hands and wipe away the blood.

“My name is Ayumi, Ama, and we are your saviors.”

You didn't remember much before your first encounter with Chiaki and Ayumi, but you remembered what happened after.

Upon finding her husband dead in your bedroom, your aunt had taken to insulting you for being a whore and a murderer.

You didn't ask for any of this. If you could have asked for anything, it would have been for your parents to have never died.

But you were past that. You knew your aunt knew what her husband was doing to their own daughter and what he planned to do to you.

“Kill her.”

Her neck was tied with an invisible noose and she was pulled up into the ceiling before she could even process it.

Her body kicked around for a few seconds before giving out and going limp.

You, who had never seen your own blood before, had ordered two strangers, your saviors, to kill a human being.

When the police arrived due to a worried neighbor who heard the screams of your aunt, Chiaki and Ayumi dealt with them easily.

“They killed themselves,” Chiaki whispered into the ears of the chief.

“A suicide-homocide,” Ayumi whispered.

“Suicide-homocide,” said the chief. “Let's wrap it up and get the kids taken care of.”

Chiaki and Ayumi seemed proud of themselves. No one looked in their direction as they pressed themselves against your shoulder and cooed.

“Ama, we'll be with you forever, okay?” Chiaki asked.

“Mhm, we love you, Ama,” said Ayumi.

Love.

You hadn't felt it in so long.

Everything that had been bottled up inside you erupted into tears. Through your blurry eyes and childish wails, you couldn’t see the twins’ mouths opening up into wide slits as your raw, cursed energy flowed into their mouths like a vacuum.

Woken up from her slumber, Emi passed by your bloody body and locked eyes with you as you wiped your tears to look at the newly orphaned child.

You could see the faintest of smiles on her face as the police officer took her away into the car.

[preciouslandmermaid]

quiet fury in your head [x]

Dream of the Endless x AFAB!Reader!Goddess / Sandman Fanfiction

Note: THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE CHAPTERS!!! AHHH!! ENJOY!! tagging @sapphireonline cuz they asked so nicely to be tagged :). Also, my fics on ao3 are for registered users only due to AI scraping.

No use of Y/N. See part 1 for all the tags tbh.

Warnings: mentions of blood/eye injury, angst

Rating: 18+

(Read on AO3)    ||   (masterpost for other chapters)  

You jolt. A rasping, cough tears like shrapnel through your lungs. You lay on the damp, spongy grass. An ache reverberates from your hair follicles to the marrow of your bones. Your head throbs with an abrupt pressurized onslaught of omnipresent knowing. These are the things you know: you are a God, a Queen of nightmares. Your name is ‘The Morrigan’. You know that despite everything, you exist and aren’t supposed to. And now, something – or someone — brought you back.

You stand, naked and shivering in the brisk, salty air.

You’re in the realm of mortals.

Your veins hum with devotion – it is reverent, heady, and fervent. The feeling warms you to your toes. It lives like fire in your stomach. Despite the plumes of frost that erupt from between your lips, you cannot feel the cold, and it does not cause prickles to rise across your skin.

You touch the edges of your strength like poking a missing tooth with your tongue.

You died. You are confident of that fact. You were unmade. You, along with dozens or perhaps hundreds, of other Gods were carved from the collective consciousness like a corrupted wound.

You roll the memory of their names around in your mouth. However, you cannot say them because they aren’t there. They no longer exist. They are not here as you are. No one has revived them. No one has rewritten their names in the Books of Fate.

Your brow furrows with confusion and a touch of curiosity. If you can be remade, then can the others? Who is it you miss so fiercely? You prod mentally deeper. Who, who, who? A sensation of dark and damp soil clings to your fingers. There is blood beneath your fingernails. There is smoke in your lungs.

Your chest capsizes, swift and sudden and strong. You flatten your palm over the pain and inhale harshly through your gritted teeth. A vision of red hair and copper eyes. A hoarse voice scratches at the back of your mind. A collection of tiny bird skulls go ‘click-clack-click’ as they knock together on red threads notched with dark beads. Sisters. Family. Bond. Love.

Then, the vision and sensation doubled as swiftly as it had come.

A man swathed in black starlight holds your face in his hands. His eyes are infinite and burning. You nearly collapse again at the soul-rendering longing that slices through your rib cage with a precise and keen strike.

A part of you, buried as it was, sings in delighted remembrance and cries out in sorrow. Morpheus. Your heart skips and beats furiously in your chest, and begs you to return. Return, return, return it says. A restless desperation floods your senses. You are forgetting something important. Something important. Something vital. What, what, what? You lick your dry lips. Return where? You wonder as everything ebbs and you blink the strange wetness from your eyes.

You gaze out across the white-capped, deep blue waters. You have been gifted another chance at immortality and Godhood, and you will not waste another second. You lick the tears from the corners of your mouth, inhale, and vanish from the cliffside in a rolling, cold mist.

*****

He is about to destroy the Corinthian when he feels it. Feels you. A unique tremble in his breast pocket, close to his heart, as the raven feather comes to life. Your magic blooms like thorny wildflowers in his lungs. Your face swims to the forefront of his mind. Dream hardly has time to react, to process this incredible information, before magic swirls at his feet and someone is pulling him away from the Corinthian. And from his revelation of your survival and your return to him at last.

His struggle is in vain.

An Endless finds himself weakened, trapped, and unconscious on a magician’s basement floor.

*****

In the efforts to discover your purpose, you are like a fawn stepping on uneasy feet into the glade.

Shortly after your remaking, the world started to crumble, and mortals suffered from a strange sleeping sickness.

Your first five years in the mortal realm were marvelously unproductive.

No matter your efforts as the Queen of Nightmares, you cannot wake them, you cannot heal them, and you cannot gift the insomniacs the sleep they so desperately craved. It is frustrating, but you have infinite time to try and unravel the many mysteries of this world.

You move through the mortal realm, learning, watching, and hoping to gain insight—about them and yourself. Your memory flickers in and out like a candle near an open window. You start to recall your old life (this is not an accurate term, but it’s the closest you have). You do not sleep and therefore do not dream, but you often think of this past life and its characters.

There are two women who you adore fondly and then there is Morpheus.

Your feelings surrounding him are complicated. Your heart, at the sound of his name, twists, and stutters and burns with golden light. The sense of restless desperation deepens and sinks its fangs into you until you want to pull your hair from its roots.

You try your best to contain your thoughts of Morpheus. It is painful to think of him, to yearn for him, without any knowledge of where he might be or how to find him.

You have tried to call him. You remember how to call to Gods. You write his name on paper and burn it. You dunk your head beneath the ocean and scream his name underwater. You wait for the full moon and cry his name to the nighttime splendor. You have written his name with sticky, blood-stained fingers across boulders and on signposts.

Yet, no matter when or how you call, Morpheus does not come and he does not answer.

You think he may have kissed you. But the memory is foggy and therefore unreliable. How could someone so cheerless, and severe, possibly desire something so banal as a kiss? You watch a brood of ravens perch upon a slated roof and caw endlessly at the overcast clouds.

You meet the Corinthian, wholly on accident, during your sixth year in the mortal realm. You had relinquished your efforts in trying to save humanity. You surmised that it’s not your disease to cure and instead, you began following the call of ‘chaos vortexes’.

You do not know why a Queen of nightmares can find places of chaos and rage, but you do.

You find them like a shark to blood in the water. Humanity is rife with them. Sometimes, they’re a hateful group of individuals, stoking flames of panic and hysteria. Other times they’re solitary, lone wolves, that desire bloodshed and submission. You went where the vortexes pulled you. You’re bolstered by their presence. Your powers crackle beneath your skin, white-hot and blistering.

You don’t know what it means, but it calls to you, and you would be remiss to ignore it.

You stand in a sitting room with the metallic scent of blood in the air. You recognize the man. His name drops like a stone into your mind. In your old life, you recall passing him in a place of tall shadows and wet earth. But where was that?

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, “if it isn’t Your Majesty.” He inclines his head toward you. Almost respectful, but his tone is too mocking.

You acknowledge him with a slow blink. “You remember me.”

“How could I forget?” He smiled. “No one ever stopped talking about you in the Dreaming after you left.” He clicks his tongue. “Or died. Not that you look very dead so…I suppose abandonment is the correct assumption.”

You circle the victim on the ground and lightly touch the drying blood on his cheeks. You smear his blood between your thumb and index finger and then lift your gaze to the Corinthian. He did this. You search the recesses of your memory, hoping for insight into your relationship with one another, but discover nothing. There’s no point in lying. He is the first creature in your travels to recognize you. You won’t waste this opportunity.

“I abandoned nothing and no one.” You fold your hands in front of you. The tailored edges of your long, dark dress lent to your severe attitude. The buttons of your coat gleamed in the low, oil-lamp light of the gentleman’s sitting room.

He scoffs, “Tell that one to Dream. I’d kill to see his reaction.”

Your heart replies painfully, but you hold your composure before the Corinthian. You suspect this creature – this Nightmare – will sink his teeth into any perceived weakness. If he is a nightmare, and you are the Queen of nightmares, then does that mean—

“Did I create you?” You ask, choosing to ignore his comment and steer the conversation to one that you can control. You need to obtain information above all else. You need him to remain unaware that he has the upper hand in this interaction.

“No.” His lips twist, not a smile, and not a grimace. The light shines his hair into waxen gold. You’re reminded of another smiling creature, gold-touched and proud. Lugh. The name stirs anger in your stomach. Betrayal tastes like ash in the back of your throat. You gently lift the Corinthian’s victim into your arms and lay him, respectfully, on the floral-printed couch. You smooth your hand over the young man’s brow.

“What are you doing?” His tone is disgusted and a touch intrigued. His shadow elongates over the nearest wall and intersects with yours at an odd angle. Shadows and nightmares, queens and murderers.

“You do not feel remorse,” you say to the Corinthian and it’s not a question. Your tone is without judgment. You would not fault a knife for slicing your finger. You would not blame a predator for hunting elk. “I can feel his final moments…the pain, the anguish, and…”

You chew the inside of your cheek, seeking the right word, as you gaze upon your reflection in the Corinthian’s dark glasses.

“Hopelessness,” you say finally, “these emotions are intrinsically tied to humanity. They are their blessing and their curse. We Gods don’t feel them.”

He appeared genuinely curious. “You don’t feel pain?”

Morpheus’ hand on your brow. Desperation. Fear. Your fingertips digging into his wrist, pressing into his pulse, and screaming. Your nerves had reverberated with agony. You had been flayed alive, burned, and crushed all at once. Lugh’s poison. You had been dying, dying, dying, and holding onto the Dream Lord as if the Fates demanded your connection take physical manifestation.

“No,” you reply, knowing it to be a half-truth.

You felt pain within the Dreaming. You felt pain when Lugh stabbed you. It seems that Gods and Endless can inflict pain on each other. You suspect that may be why your heart ruptures every time you think of Morpheus. He is Endless. He holds the power to destroy you. How did you forget? It must be the Corinthian. Being around him loosens the rusted cogs of your memory and the cobwebs that plague your thoughts.

“When I am close to them. I can feel…their humanity, their emotions. It’s like an echo lingering in a network of caves. A fingerprint on the glass of immortality,” you explain.

“We are more alike than I realized,” he says with a lazy smile. “Will you join me for a drink, Lady Morrigan?”

“Only if you answer one question for me.”

His eyebrows rise. There is one question that truly matters to you, here and now, in the face of a walking nightmare.

“Where is the King of dreams?”

He chuckles. “Oh, I might like you, but I don’t like you that much.”

Your nostrils flare and are hit with the scent of fear, and your shoulders straighten. You have no intention of letting him leave. The air in the room hums and crackles with static energy. Magic thrums beneath your skin. Your power is intoxicating. It is fueled by raw, fierce devotion. Whoever worships you—it is stalwart and unyielding.

“You fear his wrath,” you guess, your eyes narrowing, “but what of my wrath?”

He tosses a careless look over his shoulder at you. “No disrespect, Lady Morrigan, but I belong to Dream. The only one who can take me out is him and I don’t plan on that happening anytime soon.” His fingertips reach for the doorknob. You shrug one shoulder. You had offered him the easy way.

The Corinthian stumbles backward, hissing, and holding his scalded palm. He whirls, his teeth bared, his expression is fractured and surprised. You lower your hand, fingertips awash in a reddish glow, and blink slowly like a lazy, apex predator. He claims that only Dream can unmake him. However, you’re unconvinced. The Queen of nightmares ought to have dominion over nightmares. It’s right there in the name.

“Once more, dear Corinthian, where is the King of Dreams?”

“If you think it’s going to be that easy…” He reaches for the thin, silver blade kept holstered at his side. You appreciate his ruthlessness and raw desire for survival. You see an echo of your old self inside of him and soften. You cannot blame him for wanting freedom when you burned with the same desire a lifetime ago.

You lift a placating hand. “I do not wish for your death nor your undoing. I only wish to achieve answers.” And peace for my aching heart and a purpose to this new life, but you don’t say that aloud.

“He will come looking for me,” he says, “and he won’t stop until I’m found.”

Your gaze hardens. “Then stay hidden.”

“I’m not taking this shit deal,” he declares, composed and resolute. “I know how this goes. I give you Dream. You rescue him. He kills me.”

Your stomach sours at the thought of Dream needing a rescue. In your vague, hazy memories, he always seemed impenetrable and impossible. Endless, timeless, unreachable, and beyond divine. Lonely too, but that is a musing for another day.

You stare down the barrel of the Corinthian’s reflective gaze. If the choice is between searching for Dream for the rest of your existence versus finding him tonight—well, it’s not a choice at all, is it? Once you find Morpheus, then perhaps your heart will stop its incessant bleeding.

“I owe you a favor,” you say, remembering, “I promised I would give anything in my power.”

The hand on his blade relaxes. “Yes, you do, and last I checked Gods and Godlike creatures don’t throw around promises. They’re binding.”

You nod. “Use your favor to barter for your safety, Corinthian. Bind me to not harm you.”

“Uh-uh.” He wags one finger. “That’s now how this works. You’re supposed to give me something.”

“I am. I am offering continued freedom.”

“Fuck this,” Corinthian says, “I don’t need to leave through the front door.”

He attempts to leave. The fabric of the world shifts with it. A flutter, like a moth pressing against a fish net, and yet Corinthian remains standing in the sitting room with a cooling dead body and your simmering wrath. You don’t know how to reach the Dreaming, so you cannot bring Corinthian back, but you can keep him here. You’ve spent eons a prisoner. You will spend eons more, trapped with Corinthian in this sitting room, if it means you will reunite with Dream by doing so.

“Tell me the correct and current location of Dream the Endless.” You offer him a humorless, dangerous smile. Let him remember who he’s dealing with. Let him remember the Queen of nightmares.

The Corinthian pauses; his expression is thoughtful.

“Very well, Lady Morrigan,” he begins, “do you promise to not break the circle? Or harm Roderick Burgess? Do you promise to not tamper with his prison? Or coerce his guards to fall asleep? And to allow me to freely go after I give you Dream’s current location?

“That favor you mentioned, I’ll cash it in now to ensure you agree. I’m sure accepting my terms is well within your powers.”

You bow your head, one hand on your heart, and announce, “I accept.”

There is no other choice and just like that, your favor owed to Corinthian is paid. The fabric of fate twists together and seals. You cannot break the circle, harm Roderick, tamper with the prison, or coerce the guards to fall asleep and you must let Corinthian leave in peace. A small price to pay, you think despite the worry for Dream growing in your heart.

He says, “Fawney Rig.”

The door shuts with a quiet hiss behind him. You drop your gaze to the eye-gouged victim on the couch. You can’t do anything for the man. No comfort, nor ease of death. However, you commit his face to memory. You offer this small act of service. For there is power in memory. And it’s time you uncovered yours.

***** Winter 1922 *****

You would’ve discovered Fawney Rig eventually. The building throbs with chaotic energy. Men and women drink, grease their palms behind curtained alcoves, trade ancient trinkets and secrets, and demand their every indulgence fulfilled. Fawney Rig bloats, pulses, and surges with depravity.

You arrive as a spider.

You crawl through the gap in a window, into an upper-story bedroom, its color scheme is glossy silver and patterned chartreuse with a tea set of fine porcelain. You crawl the high ceiling to the party proper and observe the humans from above. You study their mannerisms, their outfits, their sharp and coy smiles and greedy eyes. You listen to the names, memorize them, and seek their owners.

When you’re ready, you crawl into an empty bedroom, and your shadow elongates with your transformation. You’re a human woman, beautiful and alluring, while also mysterious and flirtatious. You fix the lipstick on your lower lip with your thumb and leave the bedroom smiling.

You don’t often take physical manifestation in the mortal realm. Typically, there’s no need. But, if Dream is in danger, then you need to discover who his enemies are. Everyone has a weakness. What’s Roderick Burgess’?

In the walls of Fawney Rig, you pluck the puppet strings of Roderick’s followers and entice them to reveal their secrets. You learn his vices are brandy, control, and power. His followers whisper of a devil in his basement. That must be Dream.

An urge, hot and pulsing, alive like a heartbeat, thunders through your bones. You should kill Roderick. He has no right to trap Morpheus. He has no right to any of this power and devotion he accumulated. He is not a God. Why do his followers worship him? It’s unnatural.

Your vocal cords strain. An old power. The banshee queen. A scream builds at the back of your throat. The sheer power and force of it could render them to ribbons. Your blood simmers. Vengeance. You didn’t get the chance to kill Lugh for his betrayal. But, you ought to kill Roderick for his idiocy and pride.

Roderick converses by the fireplace, his elbow propped against the mantle, his voice is crooning and low. Beside you, a pyramid of crystalline glasses tremble, their champagne bubbling and the nearby guests startle with confusion. You flex your fingers at your side.

The Corinthian’s promise binds my tongue. You exhale harshly your nostrils like an upset, snuffing beast. You whirl from the room and school your expression from murderous to complacent and doe-eyed. Enough games. Enough intel. You’re going to rip the prison apart with your bare hands even if it renders your appendages to shreds.

You shift into a month, gray-winged and delicate, fluttering near the lamps and drifting unseen above the heads of men. You fly on gentle, smoky wings down the damp staircase and through the iron bars.

The world is much larger through the eyes of an insect and when you behold Dream for the first time in an eon, you’re awestruck by his raw, starved beauty and enraged by his circumstance. A trail of ashen smoke follows you as you transform before Dream’s prison.

Your reflection faces you in the glass and it’s brutal and hungry. Your eyes flare with raw, savage emotion, and your chest heaves with labored, painful breath. Your memories filter into your mind in sharp-edged clarity.

Morpheus standing alone on a beach, a lonely ruler, a black hole in a sky of diamonds. His pale face was shadowed by starlight, the scent of rich jasmine in the air, the ghost of a kiss on your lips. His breath trembling against your skin. Your blood on his hands. Your promises. Lanterns floating over your heads. The warm, scratchy sensation of his cloak beneath your fingers. The Otherworld shattering around you in brilliant, cosmic light. His face was the last face you saw. The only one you wanted to see.

He doesn’t acknowledge you. He doesn’t look up. A knife slides between your ribs. You step closer, through the sigil, and your blood pounds in your ears. You remember the Dreaming. You remember his touch. You remember your affection for him, doomed as it was, and the ruination you faced because of it.

His name is a whisper of silk on your tongue, “Morpheus.”

***** At first instinct, Dream suspects it’s a trick. He knew not what other sorcery that Roderick held. He trusts very little of his captor and his ilk. But your voice—your melodic, savage voice, rough as a cavern below the water—no one can mimic that voice. Not even his sibling, Desire.

He brings his eyes to yours.

Your black, short dress—styled with the times—is dripping with silver starlight, and stardust clings to your exposed thighs and ankles. You are as he remembered. Your smile is a razor blade, your eyes bloom with a thousand, glistening stars, and your poise graceful and severe. This could be a dream if it were possible for me to dream.

“How?” His voice cracks from disuse. His fingers twitch, his wrists and arms are crossed over his knees. He longs to touch you and confirm your corporeality.

You step closer and he watches the play of emotions across your face. Disbelief, wonderment, confusion, and anger. They ripple across your gorgeous features like the pages of a novel. He drinks in the sight of you and painfully recalls the ending.

You trail your fingertips across his prison. He knows the answer before you speak it.

“Belief and devotion,” you whisper fondly, “I am Lady Morrigan, the Nightmare Queen, given unto life once more by the King of Dreams.”

His breath shudders. Belief. Endless exist despite Humanity’s belief in them. Gods exist because Humanity believes in them.

You exist, despite your undoing, because of his dedication to you.

An Endless believes in a God. What does it mean that his devotion has restored you? How does that tip the scales of cosmic balance? In all his pensive, mournful musings, and quiet prayers to your raven feather, he never assumed you’d return. And yet...his foolish hope paid off. His forehead touches the glass.

“I owe you my life, Dream Lord,” you say urgently, your eyes fierce and fractured with red light, “but I have made other promises to reach you. I cannot—” your brow furrows “– I cannot break you free.”

*****

However, you can work around the promise. You cannot break the circle, harm Roderick, or coerce his guards to sleep. But seeing Morpheus has unlocked your knowledge and memory of the Dreaming. You know how to reach it. You can interfere when those slothful, prideful creatures sleep upstairs. You can pull their strings, without subtly, and drive them to madness and terror. You are the Queen of nightmares and you wear that title and crown proudly.

This house is a tower of matchsticks. You need only give it a gentle exhale.

“Say the word,” you croon, pressing your palm flat against the crystal of his prison, “they are hedonistic. Envious. Paranoid. Especially Roderick.” Your heart flutters at the tempting delight of inciting this entire household into chaos. They deserve it. You will happily curse their bloodline and watch the Burgess family tree erupt in flame.

“Ask me to influence them,” you whisper, sultry and tempting. “They’ll slaughter one another, and you will be free, and the world will be better for it.”

At his silence, you lean closer, and your breath fogs against the surface.

“See this for what it is, Morpheus,” you echo his words from eons ago. “Mercy.”

The humans above must learn their lesson. They must learn what it means to steal what is yours and trap it away from the world. You’ll give them clean deaths. You’ll spare any children (except Roderick’s).

And, beyond that, you want Dream’s plea. You want him to ask this of you. You want him to ask for your aid, your deliverance, for that will finally tip the scales into balance after all he did for and to you.

He saved you twice, kissed you, and doomed you.

Your debt to him remains unpaid, but after so many centuries, it’s time for the Dream Lord to be indebted.

*****

He’s known you for centuries and it’s only by knowing you and loving you, that Dream understands your desire is motivated by selfishness. You may want his freedom, but you want the chaotic, bloody death of Roderick and his Order more. He recognizes the blood lust and hunger in your eyes. He sees how you burn for it. My ruthless, ruthless queen.

You would incite them to battle in your name without speaking it. You would claim their deaths as your own and reap whatever power left behind. He doesn’t begrudge you for it. You’re the Nightmare Queen, but your past self—and all its titles, dreams, and desires—live inside your heart.

You rarely hide your emotions, and he sees them, clear as cold night across your face.

Your eyes darken at his continued silence. The stars within vanish one by one as pinpricks of light are absorbed by encroaching obsidian. He stares into his reflection in the voided silence of your eyes. Your upper lip twitches, and curls, and a hiss emanates from low in your throat. A spiderweb of frost bleeds from your fingertips against the glass though its chill doesn’t affect him.

You raise your chin, staring down your nose, and say, “Prideful until the very end.” You draw your hands away from his prison. “I don’t know why I tempted my heart with the hope of anything different.”

He’s alone again.

*****

The boy, Alex, has fear. It reminds you of a little girl with a puppy. It reminds you of a father dying, his body crushed against waves and rocks. Dream has denied your help. That is fine. But you will help this young boy as best you can with the powers you do have.

You once toyed with the idea of becoming a protector of children. Perhaps that can be your fate, your purpose.

You stand outside the boy’s bedroom and whisper to the threads of his subconscious; “Protect yourself, young Alex.”

Outside, it begins to rain and your heart clenches with a wave of nostalgia that has no source.

There is someone else you need to find, but you cannot remember their name.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wildest dreams, pt. 30

Summary: Tragedy strikes.

Warnings: angst, sexual innuendos, swearing, GRAPHIC depictions of death and blood

Wildest Dreams Masterlist

————————————

Paul’s whole being trembles, his ability to keep the shift at bay weakening with each step he takes as Y/N’s scent becomes stronger, but so does a metallic smell, intertwining. The Cullen’s are faster than his human form, they’re likely at the scene. Grunting, Paul pushes himself past the limits his body binds him to as he notices Jacob shifting out of the corner of his eye.

Don’t, Paul has to remind himself. If she’s in danger, he’ll shift on sight, but if she needs him, Paul the man instead of the wolf, he can’t risk shifting now. If he does, who knows how long it will take him to calm down to be himself again.

Passing by their home, Paul runs to the trees in the backyard, breath caught in his throat as sobs fill his ears. The stench of blood becomes overwhelming as he forces himself to halt before colliding with Daisy at full speed.

Eyes wide, Paul’s gasp dies in his chest as he realizes the pearly white dress spread across the ground is drenched with red. He once loved the color, mostly as Y/N wore the red lacy lingerie when they spent their first night together, but now? It’s terrifying.

“Y/N”, he calls for her, his voice weak as his heart is. 

Laying on the ground, her back is trembling with sobs that are muffled as she cries on her father’s chest. Swallowing thickly, Paul wrestles with the nausea the scene evokes. Her father’s head is barely connected to his body, angled to reveal a ripped trachea as well as a vertebrae. The left arm is missing and quite frankly Paul’s too scared to look around in hopes of finding it.

With unsteady legs, he kneels beside Y/N, placing his warm hand on her quaking back. 

“The Cullens and Jacob are on it”, Daisy says, in shock, staring at the body as Embry pulls her into his embrace. “They ripped him apart right before her eyes.”

Pressing his lips in a thin line, Paul closes his eyes – just for a moment, just to pull himself together. Y/N’s lost her mother and she barely survived that. How will she survive this? 

Holding onto her shoulders, Paul carefully pulls her back. He expects resistance, screams, and shouting as she clings to her father’s body, but she doesn’t fight. The instant he realizes she’ll allow him to pull her closer, his right-hand covers her eyes. Perhaps she hasn’t yet realized the damage to her father’s body. If there’s a chance, any chance she doesn’t see the true horror before her, he’ll take it. 

“I’m sorry”, he whispers as she rests her forehead on his collarbone. “I’m so sorry”, he repeats as he cradles her in his lap, his eyes stuck on the mangled body of his father-in-law. It’s almost the same sight as in his vision, the ripped-out throat, the blood, the white, the forest around them…it’s almost identical. Only one difference – IT’S NOT HER.

“I am so, so sorry”, he repeats again, hating himself for the spark of hope and relief growing in his heart. What if this was what he saw all along, and he just didn’t know it? Maybe his visions were wrong or he misunderstood? Even if it’s not, maybe this means the price of blood has been paid and his Y/N is safe. A Y/L/N has died in a horrid way, almost everything in his vision matches the sight before him now. Perhaps fate has found an oddly merciful bit of mercy to bestow upon him and Y/N?

He feels disgusting just for thinking it, and Y/N would surely hate him for even hoping it was true, but he can’t help it. After all the time he’s spent living in fear of this day coming to pass, he’s almost certain it’s passed.

Standing with Y/N in his arms, Paul tears his eyes away from the bloodied body before him. “Call the Chief”, he says before walking into the house. Y/N isn’t crying, she hasn’t since he arrived by her side, since she felt his touch. 

Somehow, the silence is worse.

Moving upstairs, he doesn’t stop until he’s in their bathroom. Sitting on the lid of the toilet, he inhales sharply. Tenderly, his hand moves to undo the buttons at the back of her dress, then the corset that’s underneath. She couldn’t have been comfortable in it. 

“Can you stand”, he asks quietly. 

Nodding meekly, Y/N holds onto Paul for support as he helps her find her footing. Once upright, he pulls down the dress that was meant to be taken off much later in the night in a passionate exchange. The red-white material pools around her feet. 

“Hold onto me”, he instructs before kneeling. Slowly, he unzips the back of her sandals which are unrecognizable with the dirt and blood mixing on her feet. The moment he’s certain he can, he lifts her and the sandals fall down on the dress soundlessly. 

He enters the shower with her, his suit the last of his worries. If it were a normal day, she’d insist on taking his suit off, one piece at a time as she kisses his neck and chest just to see how long it takes him to lose control and claim her. It would have been a fun game of temptation filled with laughter and love proclamations and screams elicited in pleasure. As the water starts to run, it’s silent. She’s unblinking, her lips lightly parted. Her makeup is perfect, despite the tears she clearly shed – the redness of her eyes betrays her. Whatever they used to keep her face flawless for the wedding, anticipating rain, it’s certainly going to last. Even the shower doesn’t cause her mascara to run and Paul has no idea how the fuck is he supposed to clean this makeup off.

Swallowing thickly, he places his hands on her hips. “Can I?” Gesturing to the soaking white panties, he awaits the barely noticeable nod of approval. With slow and deliberate moves, he pulls off her panties, trying to ignore the red river collecting at their feet. She steps out of them, her eyes lingering at the top of his head for a moment before turning away once again.

Tossing the panties onto the pile in the middle of their bathroom, he makes a mental note to burn everything on there. She doesn’t need to look at any of it and be reminded of this tragedy. 

With a sponge, he goes over every inch of her skin until there’s no trace of blood left on her body. He wishes he could take this pain from her, to help her pull through this, to be her strength, yet he can’t. All he can do is be there for her. And if the Cullens fail, to bring her justice. Whatever did this to her, to them, he will make sure they don’t walk the same Earth she does ever again. 

Wrapping a towel around her, Paul carries her to the bed, making sure she can’t see the bloody pile on their bathroom floor as he kicks the door closed. Drying her off, he helps her put on her favorite, most comfortable pajamas. 

It’s barely six and night is already starting to fall. Her eyes are barely open, and he prays she heads her body’s warning and closes them. Paul hears the others outside, the sound of Charlie Swan’s voice as he’s ordering for the body to be taken away under the guise of a cougar attack no one could have predicted. 

She can’t hear it, or at least he desperately wishes it be true so he watches a silent tear slide from her eye to her nose before cascading onto the pillow before her eyes finally close. Paul sits down beside her, studying every line of her sorrow-stricken face with care. He waits until her heartbeat and breath even out until he’s certain she’s asleep before getting up. 

Trying to be quiet, he opens the bathroom door. Running a hand down his face, he covers his mouth as his own vision blurs. Her father was a good man, someone he often thought of as a father his own father never was. Y/N is safe, but she’s destroyed and her father has been killed in a way no one deserves to die. This isn’t a win, not the kind of a win Paul ever wanted. Despite the depraved part of him that’s happy Y/N is alive, Paul is anything but celebrating. Collecting the clothes in a black trash bag, he puts it by the door. Before he takes care of that, he has to wipe the blood off their tiles first. It can’t be there when Y/N wakes up. 

Erasing tangible proof, he pauses. His bottom lip quivers, tears forming. Sniffling, he lets out a heavy sigh. Letting the tears fall, he continues cleaning the tiles – Y/N’s father deserves tears, so Paul doesn’t spare them. He cries in silence, an occasional sniffle sounding.

Putting the bloodied rags into the trash bag too, Paul washes his hands before checking on Y/N. She’s still asleep, a small frown etched on her forehead. He’d kiss it away in any other situation, but he needs her to sleep a while longer. There are other loose ends he needs to tie up before he’s ready to face her, to make himself a safe harbor that anchors her.

He expects chaos outside but is pleasantly surprised when he’s met with the order. The body is gone, the chief finishing up his report with Renesmee sitting by his side. Sam and Emily are the only ones left from the pack, huddled up to the side.

The air feels heavy with grief, and Paul can’t escape it. He moves, the bag of bloodied evidence in hand. He places it beside the garage door with a level of care as if handling a fragile artifact. The evening is settling, the light replaced with dusk.

“How is she?” Emily is the first to approach Paul. 

“In shock, I think”, Paul glances at the patch of dirt missing from his backyard. 

“We dug through it”, Sam shrugs. “Figured the blood would be a trigger.”

Nodding, Paul scratches the back of his neck. “Guess I can change now.”

“I was wondering”, Emily points at his soaking wet suit. “The others went to get changed.”

“They don’t have to come back”, Paul presses his lips in a thin line. “All I need is whoever did this to be caught and ripped apart. So unless they’re interested in shifting, I’d rather they go home.”

“Jake and Embry are both with the Cullens”, Sam tells him. “Embry took Daisy home, even though she didn’t want to go. He joined the pack soon after. Seth is going to join soon too.”

Licking his lips, Paul sighs. “I’d go too”, he glances at his bedroom window. 

“Go. Take care of your wife, Paul. Trust me and the others to handle this.”

“She’s not my wife”, Paul reminds dejectedly. “We didn’t get the chance to say our vows.”

“She’s been your wife for years in every way that matters”, Sam remarks. “A ceremony is nothing compared to what is in your heart.”

Forcing a smile, Paul nods. He inhales deeply. “I can’t wrap my mind around today.”

“You’re not supposed to. Tragedies like these aren’t meant to be understandable.” Placing a hand on his shoulder, Sam offers a sympathetic smile. “Go to her. I’ll get Emily home and join them in the forest.”

“Thank you”, Paul breathes out. Heading to the door, he stops by the chief. “Are you taking Renesmee with you?”

“Yeah. She’ll stay with her grandpa till they come back.”

Nodding, Paul gnaws at the inside of his cheek. 

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“He was Y/N’s dad”, Paul states.

“He was family to you too, son.”

As Paul walks into the house, every creak of the floorboards feels like an echo of a shattered reality outside. The walls, once filled with warmth and love, now seem to close in on him.

Without a word, Paul returns to his bedroom. Discarding his clothes, he inspects them for traces of blood. Content to find almost none, he puts the shirt with some stains in the wash immediately. She shouldn’t have to handle this, any of it. In the morning, he’ll deliver her clothes to the Cullen’s to either toss or dry clean if possible. For now, he puts on a fresh pair of bottoms and slides under the covers.

For once, Paul feels the cold. Wrapping an arm around her, he closes his eyes too. In her proximity, he seeks reassurance, but also offers her a silent vow – he’ll stay by her side even as the world crumbles around them. As the dark takes over his mind, Paul finds no solace in his dreams as the image of his almost bride remains unchanged. The specter of impending loss looms, casting a shadow over any semblance of peace. The cold seeps through the covers, matching the icy grip of fear that tightens around his heart.

Y/N is still set to die, just as painfully as her father did.      

A/N: tags apparently can't fit as Tumblr limits text posts to about 4k characters. I'll try putting them in the replies, though they haven't worked in several months for me. Let me know if they work this time.

PART 31

[dalchiid]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 53

A story of obsession, fear, and lust. You're a maid whose Masters forbid you in meeting their guests for the night but your luck runs dry when you run into them and catch the attention of Lord Hoseok himself. He's smitten from the beginning and thus, your fate has been decided.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Hoseok x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 12,777

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Angst, Fear, Blood, Biting, Dub-Con, Eventual smut

Will add or remove warnings based on what's in each chapter.

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.

Chapter 53 Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession, Fighting, Drama, Needles, Fear, Angst, Drugging, Blood, Biting

A/N: Here it is! The very last chapter of Covetous. It's been such a wild ride. I started sharing this story almost a year ago can you believe that? A year filled with a lot of ups and downs. I just want to say thank you for giving the story a lot of love. It really means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this final chapter and I hope I'll see you around for other stories. Take care 💜

Prev

Your teeth are clenched hard. So hard and you don't even realize you bit the tip of your tongue until after you taste blood. Fear courses through you and you have the sudden need for everything to please just stop.

Your eyes are sealed shut with all air being taken out of you as you hear the sound of metal hitting metal and the sound of breaking glass. Followed by it is a stillness and the sound of a horn blaring non-stop.

Your eyes slowly open and you look over to Yoongi who winces in pain.

"Are you okay," you hurriedly ask.

He nods before breathlessly asking if you were okay.

"Yeah." Your voice shakes.

The front window is completely shattered. It's focused mostly on Yoongi's side and branches out like a spiderweb towards your side. The windshield wipers are up and the airbags are out and that damned horn is still going.

With shaky hands you undo your seat belt and try to move. Your body aches especially your neck You bring down the sun visor and look into the mirror to see you have a bright and bloody burn across your neck from the seat belt.

"Fuck," you mumble.

Yoongi follows after you and undoes his seat belt as well. He goes to try and open his door but he struggles to get it open.

You're about to tell him not to force it when your door suddenly swings open and you're dragged out of the car. You yelp in surprise and cry out when you land on the street with a hard thud. It takes your eyes a second to adjust in the blaring sunlight but once they do you gasp in fear.

Hoseok is holding you by the front of your shirt and he looks pissed.

There's a bit of blood that runs down from his forehead and creases into his brow. It doesn't make sense to you as to how he got hurt but all you know is that he's right here in front of you. This is not a hallucination.

"Hoseok!" Yoongi cries out.

The young vampire doesn't say anything to him but he glares his brother's way.

You try to get his grip off of you but you're too injured to fight him off properly. "Let me go," you cry weakly but he doesn't budge.

Around the car comes Seokjin who winces as he palms his lower back with his hand. "Did you really have to do that," he asks.

You're not sure what he means until a sudden thought strikes you. Did Hoseok crash into you? Was that his car? It would make sense but at the same time you're wondering how he found you so quickly. What was the likelihood that it was him and not somebody else?

There's a gathering of people around. Some leave their cars to help. They especially help Yoongi who can't get his car door to open.

You're in the middle of slapping Hoseok's hand over and over again to get him to let go of you but his grip is hard as steel. You swivel your legs over to try and kick him and you land a good one on his shin that makes him grit his teeth in pain as he hisses.

"Hoseok let go of me!"

He pulls you up onto your feet by your shirt and shakes you in anger. "You had one chance," he yells. "I gave you one chance and you fucked up!"

"Hey whoa! Whoa!" A pedestrian comes over with two hands raised as if he were approaching a wild animal. "Let the Miss go."

Hoseok seethes through his teeth as he directs his attention over to the man. "This is none of your business."

The man gives you a worried look before looking back at Hoseok. "My Lord she's in pain and you're scaring her. Just le-"

"Did I not make myself clear?!"

The man jerks his head back at the yell but he isn't backing down. He moves forward and grabs Hoseok's wrist which was the wrong move to make. He suddenly goes down when Hoseok releases you to land a punch on him.

"Hoseok!" Both you and Seokjin scream.

In your moment of freedom you try and run off but your captor is much quicker than you. His hand grips the back of your collar and pulls you back. You trip over the asphalt and land on your butt leaving you in more pain.

"Hoseok! Let her go!"

You turn your head to see that Yoongi managed to climb out of his car. His hand is reaching towards you and it makes Hoseok growl.

You're dragged across the street as Hoseok pulls you along towards Yoongi. The edge of your shirt rubs against your burn that makes you hiss. You're about to take your shirt off and run but you come to a stop when Hoseok lets go in favor of grabbing Yoongi by the throat.

"No," you scream. "Let him go!"

Yoongi doesn't go down easily as he grabs Hoseok's shirt in one hand and his shoulder in the other before swiping hard at his feet with a kick. Hoseok falls down and takes his brother with him until the two of them are fighting on the ground.

You stand up and run towards the brothers to try and separate them along with Seokjin who curses.

"Stop it you two," he yells. "Get up!"

You grab Yoongi as Seokjin grabs Hoseok but it's hard to pry them apart.

Onlookers watch the mess that has been made not daring to move a muscle to help. They either just stand there or take out their phones to record. It's disgusting to you.

Rearing his arm back to elbow Seokjin in the chest Hoseok swings forward to land a punch on Yoongi's face. He gets him around the cheek but it doesn't slow the older vampire down. He takes a jab back and lands a punch of his own across Hoseok's face.

You're in too much pain and too weak to break the fight apart. It all falls on Seokjin to do most of the work but he's still healing from his minor injuries from the accident.

A mixture of sirens flow through the air as both cops and ambulances come to the scene. They honk at the people who are in the way until there's enough space for them to drive through.

Yoongi and Hoseok are still fighting - one out of pure rage and the other in self defense. For a moment Seokjin manages to separate the two and tries his best to pin Hoseok down but he won't stop. Yoongi gets on his knees as he tries to regain his breath. You grip onto the back of his shirt as tears flood your eyes.

"Stop fighting," you cry. "Please stop fighting."

Hoseok looks at you and sees the way you hold onto his brother and it makes a new wave of anger fall over him. He throws his head back against Seokjin's chin as he tries to fight out of his grip.

"Get off of me!"

Seokjin grits his teeth. "Not until you calm down."

A blood curdling yell forces its way out of Hoseok's throat as he continues to thrash around.

"What's going on here?" A police officer comes running over with two other in tow. He looks concerned but when he sees who it is he's dealing with his eyes open wide in surprise.

Seokjin looks up at them with furrowed brows as he tries his best to keep his brother in control but he's starting to lose his grip.

You look between them and Hoseok with fat wet tears streaming down your face. You're still gripping onto Yoongi's shirt with fear coursing through your system. There's no other way to describe what you're feeling besides fear. Hoseok caught up with you without either of you two realizing it. Is this the universe telling you that this is your fate? That no matter where you run he will always be near you?

No. You can't think like that. You won't let this be your end.

You sniffle as you direct your attention to the nearest police officer. "Help," you say. "I need your help."

He kneels down by you as paramedics and EMTs run towards you all.

"What's wrong?" The officer asks. "What's going on?"

It was now or never. "I've been kidnapped. Yoongi tried saving me but Hoseok is trying to take me back."

A look of surprise coats his features as he looks over to his Lords. He must know them by name because he doesn't question who is who. Even then seeing the way you're hanging off of Yoongi gives him an idea of who he is to you.

"Why are you lying?!" Hoseok screams.

You flinch at the sound and cower behind his brother.

An EMT approaches you when he sees your neck. He's about to ask you something but your mind grows foggy.

"Ma'am let me see your neck."

Through the haze you feel yourself shaking your head. "I-I'm fine," you say. "I... want to go home."

"Not until you get checked. You were just in a really bad accident. I think it's best if you go to the hospital." He looks over at the three vampires. "All of you."

"We'll heal just fine." Seokjin says. "Just check on her."

Yoongi looks at you in concern. "Y/N. Let them take you to the hospital. I'll handle things here with the police."

His words seem to fall flat around you permeating into the ground leaving you with no effect.

Before you can stop yourself you say his brother's name.

"Hoseok."

You look towards him and he looks like he's calming down, but he stares at you like he's concentrating. Is he...

"Let's get going, Miss. I'll help you through this."

"I'm going." Hoseok says.

"Fat chance in hell you are." Yoongi growls.

They glare at each other but you're not really here to say or do anything about it.

"I need whoever the drivers are to stay so I can get some information." A police officer says. "You can leave me with the documents then go to the hospital but if not stay."

Hoseok is a lot calmer but there's a hint of worry in his eyes. He sits up and when Seokjin realizes he won't fight he releases him.

"I can give you the documents but I'm going with my partner to the hospital."

"That's fi-"

"So what? So you can take her back to her prison right after?! Hoseok I love you but she doesn't belong with us. She doesn't belong to you!" Yoongi's words cut the officer off.

Everyone seems to be on edge including everyone who came to help. Meanwhile you're on your knees swaying side to side.

"She loves me! And I love her!" Hoseok yells. "If you're too blind to see that then that's not my problem!"

Yoongi snarls. "You're delusional."

This takes Hoseok aback and hurt flashes across his face. His eyes gloss over with unshed tears as he flares his nostrils. This reaction seems to do something to Yoongi because he winces before looking off towards the side. He doesn't want to look at Hoseok anymore.

"If everyone will feel better about this I can go with her." Seokjin says.

"You're not any better." Yoongi bites though his brows furrow in pain. Like speaking against his brothers is hurting him.

"Well we need a decision stat because the Miss needs help." The EMT says.

Seokjin stands up and walks over to you. "Hoseok and Yoongi were the ones driving. Y/N and I were just the passengers." He reaches out a hand that you take without thinking. "Let's go."

"Y/N. Y/N wait!"

You ignore Yoongi's words and come to stand with his older brother's help. Seokjin takes your left as the EMT takes your right as they help you to the ambulance. You're helped on board all the while Yoongi yells for Seokjin but neither of you look back.

Once you're settled another EMT comes over and talks to his partner before they ask Seokjin which hospital. The vampire tells them and they set off to take you there.

As they drive off suddenly the fog leaves your head and you gasp. You look around you in fear especially when you note Seokjin is with you.

Hoseok did it. He did it again. He controlled your mind. You start to tremble as you think on this. You would ask how could he but you're not surprised at all.

Seokjin eyes you as the EMT starts to ask you questions. Your name, your date of birth, any underlying issues you have that they should know about. They don't question however how you and Seokjin look at each other. Like a rabbit being stared down by a fox.

You lick your lips nervously before you part them to speak. "How?"

His brow raises in question. "How what?"

Your bottom lip trembles. "How did you find me?"

Seokjin sighs deeply. "It was by pure coincidence. Honestly."

You frown. "Bullshit."

He doesn't say anything at first before shrugging his shoulders. "Believe what you want to believe but it's the truth." A small smile adorns his lips but it looks absolutely wicked. "Maybe it was fate."

Your frown gross deeper into a look of disgust.

The EMT doesn't say anything but he keeps looking at the two of you warily.

The rest of the ride is silent. You wince here and there when a bump on the road is hit. Now that the adrenaline is leaving you you're feeling all sorts of aches and pains. Your chest hurts like someone punched you really hard. The pain even radiates down to your knees. Sighing hurts so you try not to. There's just so much going on with your body that you want to get checked out.

When you arrive at the hospital they take you to the back where they help you onto a wheelchair. You were about to deny using one at first but the nurse and EMT insisted.

You're wheeled into a private room where Seokjin waits with you. The nurse says she'll be with you in just a moment leaving you alone with the vampire.

You can hear the rush of back and forth in the hall behind the closed door as other patients are being attended to.

Seokjin leans his back against the wall and crosses his feet. His hands are shoved into his pockets and he stares at the wall across from him. He seems to be doing fine despite the accident. You're reminded of vampires' fast healing. If only that could be extended towards you because you're starting to really feel it.

You rest your arm on the armrest of the wheelchair and rub your temple. To think that you were on your way to safety. You could have been out of this stupid place and on your way to Minjeong. Only if Hoseok didn't go in search of you. He should have just gone and gotten Jimin's cake with his brother and leave you alone. But that would be too easy. It's never easy for you.

Thinking about Seokjin you just get angry. The way he encouraged Hoseok to search for you... It makes you grit your teeth and work your jaw.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" You can't stop yourself from speaking out.

Seokjin looks over to you with a brow raised. "I've been called worse."

You glare at him. "Before all of this you were talking to Hoseok. Both you and Namjoon. Why couldn't you just mind your business?"

He tongues his cheek before huffing a mocking laugh. "And let you get away with making my brother look like a fool? Yeah no." He uncrosses his feet and comes over to sit on the chair next to you. "You know I didn't believe in Namjoon at first when he told me."

Your heart rate spikes. "What did he tell you?"

"That you fell for him because he was nice to you."

You scoff. Of course he would say that. Anything to cover the real truth about the relationship between you two.

"He also told me how you confided in him that you wanted to escape. I had a hard time believing any of this because this is Namjoon we're talking about. He's a liar."

"No shit," you grumble.

"But the more he expressed worry for Hoseok the more I had to believe him. Especially when you started to "change."" He air quotes. "I could have believed that you were actually falling for my brother. Times change. People change. But when Namjoon told me you were lying and that you more than likely were planning your escape I started to dig further into this mess you caused." He stares you down. "You forget my eyes are everywhere."

To this you laugh.

His eyes are everywhere yet he could never paint the big picture of you and Namjoon. It's actually hilarious to you.

"What's so funny?"

You give one more chuckle. "Just that you don't know jackshit about anything. Despite your "eyes.""

You can tell he wants to question you on what you mean but there's a knock to the door and in enters a doctor.

"Y/N," he asks and you nod. "I'm Dr. Sanchez. I heard about what happened. How are you feeling?"

You give him a deadpan look. "Like I just got hit by a car."

The doctor laughs. "Yeah I deserved that answer." But he doesn't seem like he's embarrassed or upset with you over the comment.

He comes closer to you and has you angle your head to the side so he can check your neck.

"No doubt from the seat belt," he mumbles to himself. "Any other cuts or bruises?

You shake your head. "Not that I know of. I haven't gotten the chance to check."

His hand hovers over your stomach. "May I check?"

You look over at Seokjin and he rolls his eyes before looking off towards the side.

Nodding to the doctor the man takes the chance to look over your chest. Sure enough there's a large bruise forming across it.

"Seat belts save lives but they can leave behind one hell of a mark." Dr. Sanchez says. "How is your breathing? Is it difficult for you?"

"A little. Yeah," you say as he brings your shirt back down.

He stands to his full height and nods. "I'm going to have you set up for an X-ray for your chest. We just want to make sure you don't have any fractured ribs." He nods. "Any other places you're feeling pain?"

Your fingers run over your knees. "Just my knees."

"Can I check them as well?"

You nod before looking over at Seokjin. His sights are still directed away from you. So with the help of the doctor you lower your pants so he can look you over.

There are bruises on both knees that has you a little confused. You express that to the doctor as he helps pull up your pants again.

"You more than likely hit them on the underside of the dashboard. It happens sometimes. We can get X-rays for that too."

You nod with a small "Okay."

"I'll put the order in for you. Someone from the X-ray department will come for you and then we can go on from there, okay?"

You nod again.

The doctor is about to leave until a call of his name stops him.

Seokjin stands. "Can I have a word with you?"

Your eyes turn to slits as you glare at the vampire. "Seokjin," you warn but he ignores you.

The two men proceed to leave you alone in the room as they step outside to talk.

You're still glaring despite Seokjin being gone but it's because you don't trust him.

Why would he need to talk to the doctor in private? If it was about your injuries they could have easily discussed this in front of you. You don't know but you're feeling very uncomfortable right now.

You could sit here and wait but you don't trust Seokjin so you do your best to stand up despite the pain you're feeling. You walk over to the door and press your ear against it but all you hear is the commotion as people are back and forth. You're wondering if Seokjin and the doctor are even nearby and you chance peeking outside. You don't see them at first but when you do Seokjin notices you. They're standing by a nurse station talking but Seokjin's attention is all on you. You grit your teeth in annoyance as you stare back at him. You would make a run for it now but your legs feel too weak with the pain. If you want out of here you'll have to come up with another plan.

Dr. Sanchez and Seokjin end their conversation and you watch as the latter makes his way back to you. You can't tell what emotion he's feeling but you suspect it's nothing good.

"What were you two talking about," you ask once he's in front of you.

"Get inside."

He pushes you back with a hand to your shoulder. It's a firm shove and you find yourself falling deeper into the room until you're seated back on the wheelchair.

"What were you talking about?" You try again.

He takes a seat next to you and sighs. "Nothing important."

"Right," you say sarcastically. "Whatever you say."

You know he's not going to tell you so you're not even going to try and push for an answer.

The two of you are quiet as you wait for someone from the X-ray department to come get you. When they finally do it's a young woman who smiles at you.

"Y/N," she asks.

You nod your head.

"I'm here to take you to get your X-ray done." She briefly looks at Seokjin who smiles at her. "Are you ready?"

You nod again with a "Yeah" before she wheels you out.

She takes you to another side of the hospital that isn't as cluttered with people. It's chillier here too but you don't complain. When you reach the room she helps you stand up and directs you over to an operable machine.

"Do you have an piercings or metal plates we should know about?"

You shake your head. "No."

"Okay. Just want to make sure. Don't want to be surprised by anything that we might see is all." She laughs.

You hum.

She has you stand against a wall with the operable machine hanging before it. She directs you on what to do before she heads over into another room with a big window to view you from. Someone is sitting on a chair staring at a monitor and it's with one quick breath do they take your X-ray.

The young woman directs you on how to stand next and then again until she has what she needs.

"Okay that's that. I'm going to need you to lie on the slab here so we can take a look at your knees."

She leads you to the large cold slab in the middle of the room. It's a chore to get you up there without hurting your injuries but there's only so much you can do.

Leaving to enter the other room they take your X-ray again until you're finally done.

Coming out of the room the young woman smiles at you and helps to try and get you off the slab but you hesitate.

"Everything okay," she asks. She can tell something is wrong with you.

"Please don't take me back," you say.

Her brows furrow in confusion. "Why? What's wrong?"

"That man in the room with me. He can't be trusted. He's going to take me back to his brother who kidnapped me. I was on my way to escape when the car accident happened. Please you have to believe me." You don't realize it but your hand is holding hers tightly.

She looks like she's trying to compute everything you just told her. A myriad of emotions flashing across her face.

"Wait," she says. "Are you being serious?"

"I am. Please if you take me back to that room I'm never seeing the light of day ever again."

Her lips slowly part in surprise before she nods. "Oh. Okay I um... We need the police, right?" She doesn't seem to be asking you this but herself. "I'll take you out of here but not because I'm taking you to him but we can't hold up the line for X-ray." Her voice shakes a little. "I'll take you out to the cubicle stations we have out here for waiting patients. You'll be covered for the most part and I'll get officers to come and speak to you."

You sigh in relief. "Thank you."

She helps you to the wheelchair and wheels you out to exactly where she said. It's a line of cubicles with a recliner in each that she helps you settle in on.

"Do you need a blanket," she asks.

Even though you're cold you just want to get out of here so you say no. She nods before moving the wheelchair to the outside of the cubicle.

"I'll be right back," is what she tells you but she doesn't come back.

You figure it's because she's busy and you don't fault her for it. At least you're going to receive some help. You'll just have to wait for it.

Time passes by and you wish you had your phone. It hits you then that you didn't have it. It must be somewhere in that wreck of a car.

You still can't believe what happened. It all seems like something from a movie because the likelihood of it being Hoseok to crash into you? It just blows your mind.

Thinking about him has you worried. Him and Yoongi really got into. Your worry is more about Yoongi though. You wonder if he's okay. If he knows what hospital you're at. If him and Hoseok are fighting again. What's become of him? How will his other brothers treat him when he goes home? There's so much going through your mind. You just hope he's okay.

The longer you stay out here the colder you get and the more impatient you grow. You're about to say fuck it and just find help yourself or walk out but you hear someone call out your name. It's Dr. Sanchez and he has two officers with him.

"Doctor," you say surprised.

He smiles at you and directs his attention to the officers. "She's the one."

Your brows furrow in confusion. "Are you... going to help," you ask. You don't know who you're directing your question to but the doctor continues to smile.

"We're all here to help, Y/N." He digs into his lab coat pocket and takes out a capped needle.

Your expression drops into one of fear. "What do you need that for?"

An officer walks over to grab you by the arm but you quickly climb up the recliner. He reaches for you again and this time has a good grip on you.

"Get the fuck off me!" He drags you down and onto the floor where your knees bang against it. You howl in pain as the other officer grabs your other arm. "Get off! Help! I need help!"

"It'll be okay, Y/N. Just stay still for me." The doctor says as he takes off the cap on the needle.

"No!" You kick out and hit his leg.

He barely reacts to it. Merely gives a small wince. "Come on now. Let's calm down," he says.

You're about to kick him again but one of the officers leans down to grab your leg. He curls you up before quickly wrapping himself around your back and holds you in a bear hug. The pressure he applies on your chest hurts so much that you cry out.

The other officer holds your arm out but you flex the muscle as you try to fight him off.

"Here we go." Dr. Sanchez says.

Against your will he puts the needle into your arm and you scream. Slowly he pushes down on the plunger and into you seeps whatever concoction he's made. You're full on crying now but no one comes to help.

Once it's all in the needle is taken out and with it the officers let you go.

You try and fight to stand up but you feel woozy. You're unstable on your feet and you find yourself falling to the ground each time you try standing up. One last try has you crumbling completely to the ground and before you blackout you see Seokjin who was waiting around the corner.

✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞

The first thing you notice is that your head hurts and that you're drooling. You cringe at both feelings. Your head rubs against something soft and you realize that you're no longer cold. Something warm is covering you. A blanket maybe? Has to be.

You grunt as you start to feel more and more of your body coming to life. Your chest hurts so bad and you find that stretching hurts too much even though your body wants to do just that.

You whimper in pain but there's a weird fog in your head. Like you've been asleep for too long. What time was it anyway?

Your eyes slowly open and you begin to realize bit by bit that this setting is familiar. From the smell to the sheets.

You suddenly sit up despite the pain and look around you to see that you're back in Hoseok's room and sitting at the edge of the bed is Hoseok himself.

You gasp before crying and push yourself up against the headboard.

Hoseok stares at you without an expression to give. If it weren't because he blinked you wouldn't even think he were real because of how still he is.

"Hoseok," you cry. "No, please no."

He takes in a deep breath before releasing it and blinks slowly. "It's 11:35 at night. You haven't eaten anything."

Your brows draw together in confusion. Could it really be that late?

You flinch when he stands up but he doesn't react to it. Instead he walks over to your side of the bed and sits down next to you. You note his attention is on a tray on your nightstand. On the tray is a bowl of what looks like to be oatmeal. He grabs the spoon on the side and slowly begins to swirl the food about. When he's done he rests the spoon on the edge of the bowl and looks at you.

"You need to eat," he says.

Your bottom lip trembles in both fear and the need to want to cry more.

"Y/N," he tries again but you shoot him down.

"Fuck you."

There's a slight twitch to his brow. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You sniffle. "Let me go."

"No." The answer is immediate.

"Let me go," you say again. "Where's Yoongi?"

Hoseok frowns. "You don't have to worry about him."

"He's my friend! I need to kno-"

"He's a traitor!"

You flinch back.

Hoseok is standing and nearly looms over you. He sees the way you cower though and it makes him lean back a bit but he sticks by you.

"Yoongi he's," he pauses. "He's at the party. I already forgave him."

You slowly shake your head. "You're lying."

He smiles but it looks more like a sneer. "No. Unlike him I'm not a liar... He's fine. He's at Jimin's party. It's all water under the bridge now."

Could you believe him? You're not sure but you hope he's right. For Yoongi's sake.

You look around you and that feeling of wooziness slowly begins to dissipate. You're starting to feel that this is more a reality than a dream.

"Why," he questions you. "Why did you leave?"

You look at him in disgust. "You know why."

"No actually I don't. You have everything here. You have me yet you left. I thought," he pauses to swallow deeply. "I thought you loved me."

He looks hurt but you don't care. You're not going to lie anymore.

"That was all fake."

He flinches at your words. "You don't mean that." His words come out in a whisper.

Your back straightens as you bristle. "I mean it."

He works his jaw in irritation. "Namjoon warned me-"

"So what about Namjoon?!" You grip the sheets between your clenched fist. "You want to believe everything he says?"

"No I don't want to but he-"

"I don't care! He's a lying sack of shit that isn't even worth my time."

"He's my brother." Hoseok grits out.

You begin to laugh hysterically. "What a fucking brother!"

"What does that mean?"

Your eyes begin to water as you ground out your words. "He's a liar. He's a fake."

"Stop talking about him like that. You don't know Namjoon like I do."

"Oh but I do," you laugh. "Why don't you ask him why I hate him so much, hm? Why I stopped wanting to hang out with him?"

It takes Hoseok a moment before he speaks. "Why Y/N?"

Your hands come up to your face as you cry but you're borderline laughing. You're growing manic.

"Besides telling you how I wanted to escape did he tell you anything more?"

Hoseok slowly shakes his head no.

You're cry laughing as you shake your head too mocking him. "Did he tell you how he made me fall in love with him, hm?"

He realizes what you said to him and it makes him frown. "You're lying."

"I'm lying? I'm lying?!" You're nearly screaming. "Am I lying when I tell you he was fingers deep in me at almost every single one of our encounters? Am I?!"

Hoseok's expression drops into one of surprise and hurt. "What?"

You continue to laugh as tears stream down your face. "And I loved every. Fucking. Minute of it."

Trembling Hoseok walks back from you. His chest begins to rise and fall in what you assume to be an oncoming anxiety attack. It's at this do you realize what it is you said to him. No longer are you smiling. Especially when he runs at you.

You scream as you cover your face but he doesn't hit you. Instead his fist met the wall just above the headboard. When you chance a look at him you see the anger clearly evident on his face but he's also crying.

It's your turn to tremble but it's out of fear. You've never seen him like this before and you're absolutely terrified.

Hoseok draws back slowly as he breathes in and out deeply as he tries to regain his bearings. He hiccups as more tears pour out and he finds himself laughing just as you were before.

"And that's why," he says. "You're never. Ever! Leaving this room again."

"Hoseok," you say. "Hoseok! You're not leaving me in here!" You hurriedly get out of bed to run after him as he goes towards the door but you trip and fall down. "What," you say breathlessly. Looking down at your foot you see that you're shackled to the bed. "Hoseok?!"

Looking back up at him you see him standing by the door. He looks proud of his work especially when he displays the key for what you assume to be your shackle on a chain. He pulled it out of his pocket and hooks it around his neck.

"Now," he says with a sardonic smile. "Rest here and eat your food. I'll go and deal with Namjoon." Walking out he slams the door behind him and leaves you alone in your prison.

You start to scream and bang your fists against the floor. "Hoseok! HOSEOK!" No matter how hard you cry he doesn't come back.

You spend the rest of the night curled up on the floor crying. Your body aches. Your soul aches. It hurts to breathe.

At some point you get up off of the floor and give the shackle an experimental tug. Wrapped around you is cold, hard, metal. How didn't you notice it before?

Your hands check around your foot and you tug and tug on it. You see that the end of it is wrapped around one of the posters of the footboard. You won't be able to get out of this without that stupid key.

You sit on the bed and look at the bowl of oatmeal. Your stomach growls at the sight of it. You hate how it does but you can't help the need to want to eat it. It must be cold by now but you'll attempt to put some of it in your stomach.

Despite being cold it tastes good. It's just the one good thing to happen to you tonight.

When you're halfway through it you start to feel tired. You guess it's the stress from today. It could be the only reason why but your body begins to weigh you down.

No, you think. This is something else.

You flop back onto the bed with your legs hanging off the side. Did Hoseok drug you? Did he put something in the oatmeal?

At the realization of this you whimper and curl in on yourself.

You just want to cry but you don't have the strength to. You just whimper pathetically until you can no longer keep your eyes open and you fall into another deep sleep.

✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞

When you come to your eyes lazily shift around you. You can't find the energy to move so you close your eyes again. You just feel so groggy yet you have the chills.

You feel a hand card through your hair in a comforting way and you already know who it belongs to.

"Hoseok," you say weakly.

"I'm here, baby. I'm here."

He sits up behind you and helps you roll over until you're on your back. It's there do you open your eyes again and he gets to see how out of it you still are.

Your teeth chatter and you wonder why. Whatever the reason might be you just want it to stop.

He hums. "How are you feeling?"

You huff. "Like shit." Your body trembles despite being beneath the covers. "Why am I sh-shaking so much? What did you put in the oatmeal?"

Hoseok runs his hand across your cheek. "It's not what I put in there. You're just going through withdrawal."

You realize after everything that happened yesterday you were left alone without a hit. It makes sense.

You sigh and try to burrow your way further beneath the covers. "Well," you say. "Aren't you going to do something about it?"

His hand stops before he brings it over to rest onto his lap. With his eyes half-lidded resembling a minor glare. "Do you actually think you deserve it?"

You're as frozen as possible despite the shaking as you stare at him.

"Hoseok." What can you say? What can you do? You did try running away but you're back, albeit, against your will. "But I'm back."

He huffs a laugh. "It doesn't change the fact that you betrayed me. In more ways than one."

Your expression is blank because you don't know what to do and he sees this.

"Do I have to paint a picture for you to understand? You ran away after you told me you wouldn't. You lied about loving me and you admitted to me that you fucked my brother."

"I d-didnt fuck him." You lick your lips nervously. "We just did... other things with each other."

"It doesn't change the fact that you did things with him and it won't change the fact that I broke his nose over it."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Y-You did that?"

He sits up straighter but he's still glaring at you. "Of course I did. Did you actually think that by telling me this I wouldn't do anything? He had you in ways he shouldn't have. So I broke his nose." He pauses and here he looks conflicted. "I honestly wanted to kill him but my brothers held me back so I did the next best thing which was to hurt him. Break something."

To be honest you wish you could have seen that. It serves Namjoon right for hurting you but you also know you had to give up private information about you two that you should have kept quiet about. You were just in hysterics. That would happen to anyone you think. You were so close to escaping then the accident happened. You could have gotten help at the hospital but the doctor betrayed you. Waking up here next to Hoseok just broke you and so now you're here facing withdrawal with a banged up body and still feeling groggy from whatever shit Hoseok put in the oatmeal last night. Anyone would lose their mind over that.

You release a long shaky breath.

Hoseok takes note of it and his expression softens into one of pity. "You're lucky I love you."

Your eyes shift to the side to look at anywhere but him.

No you're not lucky. You're suffering because of him. It's moments like this where you wish you could turn back time and stop yourself from interacting with Hoseok. You moarn your old life.

Hoseok shifts over to grab something off his nightstand. "Y/N."

He demands your attention and when you look at him you do so nervously. He's holding your phone as he gives you an unreadable look.

"Who's Dawn?"

You look off towards the side again.

No you don't want to answer him.

"Y/N," he says in a warning tone.

"It's n-nobody."

"Don't play games with me."

Still, you say nothing.

He sighs deeply before unlocking your phone and swiping it through it.

"Y/N are you on your way," he reads.

You sit up quickly despite the pain and try to snatches the phone from him. He leans back and places a firm hand against your shoulder as he continues to read.

"Is everything okay? My driver said you're still not there. Please tell me you're okay. Y/N?" He drops the phone onto the bed where it lands with a thud before looking at you. "She's the same person who sent you the address. Again, who is Dawn?"

You look down at your lap and you can feel the way the shackle rubs your ankle uncomfortably when you move your legs to try and curl them up.

The shackle is a stark reminder of how trapped you really are now. It's terrifying.

Hoseok sighs before clearing his throat. He doesn't like your silence so he tries to bargain with you.

"If you tell me who Dawn is I'll give you my saliva. I'll even heal the wound on your neck."

Your attention switches over to him in an instant.

You hate how your mind races with the idea of getting high again. To feel him in a way you're used to and all for a name he desires to hear.

You were on your way to Minjeong so she could help you go to rehab. You were supposed to get better. For a moment there you wanted to get better but you don't have that option now. All you have is imprisonment and the chance to get what you want again. Fuck. Life is hard.

You don't want to sell her out but you need to survive and so you apologize to Minjeong in your head and hope that in some way she feels how sorry you are.

"Minjeong," you whisper. "It's Minjeong."

Hoseok's hand slowly slides down your arm until it lands limply on your lap. "Of course it is." There's a mirthless chuckle.

He picks up the phone again and swipes and presses the screen. You wonder what he's doing until he tosses the phone onto his nightstand.

"W-What did you do," you ask

Hoseok raises a brow before getting on his knees. "I told her to leave you alone. Deleted the contact and blocked the number. You won't be allowed your phone for a while but for now I don't want to hear from her. Ever again."

Your eyes water as your bottom lip trembles.

"Don't do that face. You don't deserve to have your phone period but I'm too nice when it comes to you." His hands cup your cheeks as his thumb rubs over your bottom lip. "Open up."

Slowly you do. Once your lips part he procures a bit of his saliva to spit into your mouth. You note he's preferring not to kiss you. He must be really upset.

The spit hits the back or your throat and you swallow and much to your hesitant delight you feel the high once more.

You whine as you're slowly lowered back down onto the bed. Hoseok doesn't say anything but you feel the way he touches you gently. He may be upset but he's treating you nicely.

He noses his way down your neck until he reaches the burn mark on your neck and swipes his tongue over it. He does it a few times until you think it's completely healed but you hear him say how the seat belt has scarred you. Apparently the burn ran deeper than you thought.

You're far gone with the high and there's a small part that resents you for it. You're so out of it that it takes you a second to realize that Hoseok is undoing your shackle. You slowly lift your head up to look at him as he leaves the key in the lock before rubbing your flesh gently.

It's hard to get a read on him as is but even more so with your head buzzing in ecstasy.

He lets go of your leg in favor of scooping you up bridal style and carrying you off towards the bathroom.

"Wha?" You try to ask him what's going on but you can barely make the first word out.

"I'm going to clean you up," he says.

You don't question him further.

When he sits you up on the counter the high slowly starts to leave you. It's not like he gave you much to begin with.

Coming into the bathroom once again Hoseok lies out your clothes on the space next to you. You see that they're pajamas because of course. He doesn't plan on letting you leave his room.

At first you don't accept when he hands you your toothbrush. You just stare at it then at him without an expression to give. He mirros you with his own expressionless look until he raises his brow.

"Either you do it or I do it for you."

With a sigh you grab the toothbrush and get to work.

Afterwards he helps you undress to get into the shower. He hesitates when he sees the big bruise across your chest. His fingers drag across it softly but you brush his hand aside.

"Just help me shower," you mumble.

You don't want him to help you but you know you don't have a choice so you allow him to.

Allow him. It's such a funny way of saying it because again, you don't have a choice. You could fight him if you wanted you guess but you're in too much pain for all of that.

He's gentle with you, minding all of your injuries, but he's thorough. He doesn't stop to kiss you or anything like he normally would. He's just so focused on getting you two clean.

When you're done and dressed he carries you back into his room. You tell him you can walk but he ignores you.

In the room you see there are two trays laid out on your respective nightstands. The maids must have brought your breakfast in.

Hoseok sits you down on the bed and is quick to wrap the shackle around your ankle again. Twisted and locked - he grabs the chain the key hangs off from and brings it around his neck.

"There," he says before jutting his chin towards your tray. "Eat your food."

You look over to your nightstand and see there's another bowl of oatmeal. You frown at the sight of it.

"I'm not eating that."

Hoseok raises his brow at the challenge in your voice. "Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Y/N don't make things difficu-"

"You drugged me last night. How do you expect me to eat that knowing that you probably drugged it again?"

His jaw flexes as he grits his teeth. "Either you eat it or I force you to. The decision is yours."

Your brows furrow as your eyes widen a bit. "You can't force me to eat."

Hoseok huffs a laugh and walks over to your tray. He grabs something from the opposite side of the bowl that you can't see but when he shows it to you you freeze. It's a capped needle.

"You eat the food and go to sleep or I give you the shot. You choose."

Your eyes begin to slowly water in despair. "This isn't fair."

"You made it unfair when you chose to leave this house."

You grit your teeth as your face begins to crumple. "Why are you doing this to me," you cry. "All I wanted to do was my job. You came into my life and ruined everything."

He doesn't say anything as he watches you fall apart before him.

Your hands come up to cover your eyes as you whimper. "Why? Please just leave me alone."

Your cries seem to mean nothing to him though because he goes back to his demands.

"Eat the bowl of oatmeal and I won't have to give you the shot. Trust me when I say you won't wake up feeling as shitty as you did when you got the shot last time."

As if that makes you want to do it even more, but he's not leaving you with a choice.

You wipe your eyes and reach out for the bowl. He helps you bring the tray over onto the bed where you make the hesitant move to eat the oatmeal. One slow spoonful into the mouth but you can't help the way you cry as you eat it.

Hoseok watches you for a minute before he departs. He heads towards the bathroom where he retrieves a wad of toilet paper. He hands it to you when you eat another spoonful so you can clean your eyes and blow your nose all the while he still has the needle in hand. It's a threat to you and so you go back to eating the oatmeal when you're done cleaning up.

He says nothing as he leaves again to toss out the paper. When he comes back he sits on your side of the bed and waits for you to finish.

You feel so trapped and disgusted right now. Despite the fact that the food is good you eat it tastelessly. It's hard to enjoy yourself when the reality of the things hits you like a truck.

After a few more spoonfuls you place the bowl down.

"Eat more," he says softly.

You shake your head. "Can't." And you're not lying. You're starting to feel sick.

"Fine but if you're not asleep soon you know what's waiting for you."

You hate how he can easily threaten you like this. This isn't love. No matter what he thinks or says.

You glare at him but he doesn't react. Instead he just places your tray onto your nightstand before coming around to eat his food. He also takes the chance to put the needle away in his nightstand drawer.

You're staring down at your lap while he eats. You're not really here right now mentally speaking. It's sad really but this is your new reality. One where you're being isolated completely. At least you had Yoongi before. Hell even Namjoon for a while there but now you have no one. It's just you, Hoseok and this room.

Absent-mindedly your fingers come up to play with the necklace Hoseok had given you. It dances around between your fingers as you wait for the drugs to kick in. You don't think much of it until you start thinking about your conversation with Seokjin at the hospital.

He said it was fate that brought Hoseok to you. For a pessimistic second there you did too but you know that's not what happened. Hoseok found you somehow and you try to think how.

You're so lost in thought that it startles you when you feel his hand on your own.

"Stop," he says softly. "You're going to break it."

He means the necklace as you have it in a death grip.

You release it from your grasp with a sigh and watch as he picks the trays up and takes them out of his room one by one.

Your mind brings you back to your conversation with Seokjin and you can't help yourself in asking Hoseok the question.

"How did you find me?"

He pauses after closing the bedroom door. He stands by it without a word before he walks over to sit by you.

"You know I have my ways," he says.

Your brows furrow in annoyance. "You know Seokjin said it was fate. I call bullshit."

He huffs a laugh. "Maybe it was in some way." Slowly he grows serious as he goes to pick up your lock pendant. "Everything happens for a reason."

You frown at his words not understanding what he means until it slowly dawns upon you.

You go to snatch your necklace but his hand grips your wrist tightly. You wince but you don't let go of the pendant.

"This was a tracker all along," you ask breathlessly. The drugs are starting to kick in.

"To be fair I've only used it once and it was when you ran away."

Fresh tears coat your eyes. "You're a horrible person."

Your grip loosens against your will as you grow more and more tired.

With his help you're slowly lowered onto your back.

"I do what I have to do to protect what we have. I'm not sorry for anything that I've done. I have to ensure that you'll always be with me. No matter what."

His final words blanket you as your eyes slowly draw to a close.

This is it you realize. You're never getting out of here alive.

                  ✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞

In and out. Day in and day out. Your life is a blur with you not understanding if you're coming or going. The only reason why you know what time it is is because Hoseok tells you, but the days? You wouldn't be able to say for the life of you.

Every single day turns into a strick routine. One where he must ensure that you're locked away.

You don't bother asking about Yoongi anymore because you know he won't tell you. Hoseok claims him and his older brother are on better terms and that's that. As for Namjoon? He'd prefer you stay quiet rather than speak the other man's name so you do. You stay quiet.

Pretending to be a "good girl" as he says you are you're allowed your phone back, but your call history and all contacts are deleted. Except for Hoseok's of course. He says you don't need to talk to anyone else but him so you don't. It's not like you have much of a choice.

You don't care to play any games or whatever. Especially since he's still drugging you. He hasn't had to use the needle on you which you're grateful for and not all of your meals consist of only oatmeal anymore. It's a variety of things now but you still need to eat something smooth or drink something very specific that you have to finish in its entirety. With that in mind you already know it's because it's filled with the knock out drug.

You still get his saliva. That's a given. You actually thought he wouldn't as punishment but you guess keeping you chained to the bed and drugged up was enough for him.

Right now you watch as he's back and forth getting things ready for himself. It's Samhain, as he said, and him and his brothers are going to a meet up of many if not all vampires around the world. It's a time of festivities and a chance to talk with the Alliance about what's been going on.

You asked if you could go but he shot that down immediately.

"The Baeks will be there more than likely."

You know he means Hyun-Woo specifically. Your heart doesn't ache for him anymore but in some ways you still miss him. You don't know how he feels about you now but based off of Hoseok's reaction he doesn't want the risk of something kindling between you two after seeing each other after so long.

The two of you are already bathed and dressed. You in your pajamas and him in a green shirt with puffed sleeves and a loose collar. It shows off much of his chest and is adorned with the key he keeps chained around his neck. His black pants hug his legs tightly and if it weren't because of your situation you would admire his body. You always would if it weren't because of everything he's done to you.

Your hate grows strong for him but you keep it to yourself because if you express it he threatens you with the needle. Suffice to say you're not a fan of needles and so you would rather eat the food he gives you so you can sleep.

Speaking of which you've been given the drug and now you're waiting for it to kick in. Your back is pressed against the headboard as you watch Hoseok put things together.

You huff. "What if I have to pee while you're gone?"

He pauses and raises a brow. "Do you need to now?"

"No. I'm saying what if it happens while you're away. Do you expect me to pee on the bed?"

He grabs his knee high boots and takes them to the bed so he can slip them on. "Well you'll be asleep. If you go now you won't have to worry about peeing on yourself. That and I won't be long. I'll be home before you know it."

You roll your eyes in exasperation. "You can't just lock the door and take off the shackle?"

"There are windows," he says as a matter of fact.

Did he think you'd be stupid enough to jump out the window?

That's the thing though. You would be stupid enough to do that.

He stands up from off the bed and turns to you. He slowly makes his way over and caresses your cheek. You're quick to snap your head off to the side and it makes him sigh.

"Do you feel the medicine yet?"

You nod.

You're not lying. You do and so he helps you slowly slide down until your head is rested on your pillow.

"I won't be long, pretty girl. I promise." He kisses the top of your head and watches you until you slowly drift off to sleep.

When you wake up you realize it was prematurely. You still feel tired and oh so groggy.

"Hoseok," you call out but he's nowhere around.

His bedside lamp is on but you don't think it was that that woke you up. It was something else.

The wind from outside is loud and whistles across the night sky. Maybe it was that but then you hear screaming.

Your heart jumps into your throat as you try to sit up but you can't. You're still too weak from the drug.

There's yelling that's accompanied with the screams of fear. You're wondering what's going on and even try to remove the blankets off of you so you can try and stand up but you realize that yet again you can hardly move because of the drug and, of course, because of the shackle.

You whimper as you try and sit up.

You think if you stay quiet no one will know you're in here. You hope Hoseok locked the door. Maybe if it is the yells won't reach you but they eventually do.

The door is swung open and bangs against the wall. It startles you. Even more so when you see a man with a gun directed straight at you.

Your hands come up in fear as the unknown man glares at you but when his eyes roam over your body and he sees the shackle he hesitates.

"What," he asks breathlessly.

You don't know who he is but you know you're afraid.

"Please," you whimper. "Please don't hurt me."

He drops his hand holding the gun to his side. He can see the way you're having a hard time sitting up and slowly approaches you.

"What are those sick leeches doing to you?" His hand comes up to his forehead in worry. "Fuck. Okay. Okay. I'm going to get you out of here. Okay?"

You realize then that he isn't an enemy but someone here to save you.

He approaches the shackle and tugs hard on it. It barely budges but he's still determined to get you out of here. "Do you know where the key is?"

"He took it with him."

The man doesn't need to know who he is exactly. He just knows it's one of the vampires.

He curses under his breath. He looks at his gun and aims it at the chain making you cry out weakly in fear, but before a shot could be fired someone walks in and they are far from someone you would ever expect help from.

You try dragging yourself back against the headboard but you're too weak. Standing before you with a sick smile on her face is Jiyoo herself. You see that she has a silver fang to replace the one she lost when she was last here.

"Well well," she says. "If it isn't my favorite little rabbit."

You begin to cry.

To this she laughs and it makes the man next to you frown in annoyance.

"You said your cousins would be here," he says. "But all that's here are the servants and this girl. Why did you lie?"

Jiyoo gives a mock look of surprise. "Oh did I say they would be here? Huh. I guess I was wrong."

The man grits his teeth and approaches her with his gun raised. "Don't fuck with me, leech. Where are your cousins?"

Baring her teeth Jiyoo glares at the man. "I'd watch who you're aiming that gun to. You know if it weren't for me you little rebels wouldn't have known how to get pass the gates." She smirks. "And don't forget that only I know where your dear wife and son are being held."

This forces the man to hesitate and slowly lower the gun back down. "So now what," he asks. "What do we do?"

Jiyoo smiles sweetly before grabbing the gun. She looks at it for a moment before aiming it at you and shooting. Two shots.

You can barely understand what just happened because of the adrenaline but you felt them hit you in the abdomen. You look down and with a shaky hand you touch where the blood begins to seep through your clothing.

"What the fuck?!" You can hear the man cry out. "She needed help! Why did you shoot her?"

Jiyoo hands him back the gun as she continues to smile. "We came here to do exactly what I wanted." She sneers. "Let her bleed out."

You whimper as more blood begins to pool out of you.

Jiyoo walks out and although hesitant, the man gives you a pitying look before walking out as well.

You gasp as you cry and it hurts. Not just your stomach but your back. Did the bullets go through? You guess so because your shirt sticks to you from behind from the blood.

What do you do? You're going to die if you don't get help. You turn painfully to your side and reach for your phone Hoseok left on your nightstand.

You feel weak and not just because of the drugs.

You cry weakly as you grab the device but it slips from your hand and onto the floor. "Fuck." Tears blind your eyes as you struggle towards the ground where you crumple up, but you realize that if you don't do something you will die.

You landed next to the phone and so you grab it with what little strength you have. You can't unlock it with your finger print because your hand is bloody so you try to type in the password. You get it wrong the first time so you try again but you get it wrong again.

"Please," you cry. "Please, please, please."

On the third try you get it right and click on the contacts.

You could call 911 but you're not sure if they would be able to find you. Hell, you don't even know the address to this place. Maybe they could track the call but you don't want to waste any time so you go to the only one that's left. Hoseok.

You put the phone on speaker and wait until the phone rings. It takes a second before he picks up and he sounds surprised.

"Y/N? You should be asleep."

"Help," you cry out. "Help."

"Baby what's going on? What's wrong?"

You're starting to go in and out. You know he's asking you a question but you're having a hard time staying awake.

You mumble something into the phone and it makes Hoseok panic.

"What? Baby talk to me."

You try again as you whisper "Jiyoo" before passing out but it's enough to make Hoseok move as he yells that he's on his way.

                  ✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞✞

He's never hated someone as he does right now as he yells for the driver to drive faster.

"Hoseok. He can only go so fast." Seokjin says.

Hoseok glares at the oldest like he dares him to say something more.

Tensions are high as the brothers make their way back to their shared home. They were together when Hoseok got the call and ran after him the moment he bolted. They asked if he was okay but he said you needed help.

"Can you tell us again what she said?" Taehyung asks.

Hoseok huffs in annoyance and it's taking all of him not to scream at the driver again. "She said she needed help but before she went quiet she said Jiyoo." He scratches the back of his head in irritation. What could you have meant by that? Is Jiyoo there with you? How?

Seokjin takes out his phone and begins to dial a number. It takes a minute before it goes to voice-mail. He tries again and waits until a familiar voice picks up the phone.

"Mimi," Seokjin says.

"Lord Seokjin!"

Hoseok and the others can hear the young maid as Seokjin puts her on speaker. She sounds out of breath as she tells someone to grab some extra towels.

"Mimi what's going on over there?"

"Any towels! Just grab any," she yells before talking to Seokjin again. "We called 911. They're on their way."

Seokjin sits up straighter when he hears this. "What do you mean? What's going on?"

She sounds frazzled but she tries her best to explain. "The rebels. They broke into the house. They destroyed a bunch of things."

Hoseok snatches Seokjin's phone to which the oldest growls in annoyance.

"Mimi this is Hoseok. Is Jiyoo there?"

"Thank you," she quietly says before talking to Hoseok. "S-She was. She lead the rebels into the house but she's gone now."

"Do you know how Y/N is?"

There's a slight hesitation on her end but Hoseok says her name in a firm manner.

"The ambulance are on their way. She - She's been shot. She's bleeding out."

A cold feeling takes over Hoseok's body. You've been... shot? What?

Before he can say anything Taehyung yells for the driver to go faster.

"We're already here, my Lord." The driver says and he's right because they turn the corner and reach their block.

Before anyone could stop him Hoseok gives Seokjin back his phone and runs out of the moving car. He can hear his brothers scream his name but he's not worried about them right now.

He trips a little when he steps out but he runs straight for the open gate.

Hoseok has run before. Plenty of times but he thinks this is the fastest he's ever gone.

When he gets inside the house he runs past the help that call to him. He runs past them and the broken vases and pictures that litter the floor now. He barrels through the halls until he reaches his room where he smells all the blood. Your blood.

"Y/N," he cries out. "Y/N no, no, no, no!"

He sees the way Mimi presses towels onto your stomach but he knows it's not enough. Not with the amount of blood you've shed. From the bed to the floor and over everyone's hands. Your lips are turning blue and he can hear the way your heart beat is slowing. It's making him panic.

A minute or so after he hears his brothers run into the room. He can't take his eyes off of you as he just cries but he knows it's Namjoon, Taehyung and Yoongi just by the sounds of their breathing.

The eldest of the four comes around and sees what Hoseok sees. He sees how you've lost too much blood and something needs to be done.

"How long ago did you guys call for her help?"

Mimi shakes her head. "It's been a few minutes. 8-10 minutes at best."

Hoseok closes his eyes as tears pool out of them. He curls up around your head and kisses your forehead and pleads for you to hold on. "Please, please, please," he begs.

He knows if help doesn't come fast enough that you will die. If not in the ambulance then at the hospital. Something has to give. If he doesn't do something now to help you'll...

His eyes snap open and he sits up to look at his brother. "Namjoon! Namjoon you have to help. Only you can change her. Please." He brings his hands together and rubs them. "Please please change her. I'll do anything for you. Just please!"

The other vampire looks taken aback. He's never seen his brother beg before and he sees that it doesn't suit him, but Hoseok is right. Only he can change you.

As punishment he should just let you die. After you sold the two of you out there's been a huge strain in his and Hoseok's relationship. Even more so than Yoongi's and Hoseok's relationship. He managed to forgive the oldest but with him? It's been hard, but now Hoseok is on his knees begging for your life. Begging Namjoon for your life. He hates it but he realizes that he loves Hoseok too much to let you die so he walks over and moves the maids to the side and gets on his knees.

Your blood is everywhere except this one part of your neck. Over your scarred neck he finds a spot and leans in to sink his teeth into you like he's done before, but this time it's for a different reason. With the intent to change you he sinks his teeth into you hard. Even his blunt teeth dig into your flesh and he releases the venom needed to change you. Like a snake it leaks from him and into your system. When he thinks it's enough he pulls back.

Hoseok is quick to take you into his arms once his brother is done. He looks over your still face and prays you'll turn. That they're not too late.

Everyone waits with baited breath and before he knows it your heart stops. The air is still as the vampires listen in to a heart beat that doesn't come back. Hoseok cries as he holds you close.

You couldn't die on him. No you just couldn't. This wasn't how things were supposed to end.

His heart is broken. Shattered completely. The love of his life gone. Just like that.

He draws you in closer to him and rests his forehead against your own.

"Come back," he says. "Please come back."

He distantly hears the noise of the paramedics making their way down the hall. The sound of their walkie talkies going off as their feet carry them over. He hears their hearts beat  - a cacophony of them mixed with his brothers and his own. They're so loud in his ears but something is off. There's a new sound. It's light as it slowly begins to pace just the slightest bit faster.

"Hoseok." Taehyung says. He hears it too.

Hoseok pulls back to look at you and he watches the way your eyes stir beneath your lids.

"Her wounds are healing."

Yoongi's words click in Hoseok's head and he checks your neck to see Namjoon's bite is changing into unmarred flesh. He takes the chance to lift up your shirt and sees your bullet wounds are healing as well. He gives off a sound that's a mixture of a cry and a sigh of relief.

"What's going on here?"

He hears a paramedic say but he's more enthralled with the way your eyes open and the deep breath you take.

You're awake. You're alive.

When you look around you you do so in mild fear. Your last memories being Jiyoo and her shooting you. If that's the case how are you alive and oh so hungry?

Your ears are ringing as you see Namjoon talking to the paramedics. When the cops come in with Seokjin in tow. When you look at the maids near you who are crying in what seems to be relief. When you look up towards Hoseok who's crying yet smiles.

"Wha?" You can barely make the word out.

"It's okay." Hoseok says. "Just here. You must be hungry."

He pulls his shirt to the side and you stare at his flesh. There's an ache in your gums that you know you can alleviate by biting down onto something and you do when Hoseok leans further down over you.

Your teeth meet his neck and you bite him and take what you can. Your eyes close as you drink and breathe heavily through your nose.

It doesn't click in your head what it is you're doing until clarity begins to dawn over you. Your eyes open and you retract your teeth before pushing Hoseok away.

"What," you ask. "What's going on?"

Your eyes are glossy as you look at every face staring back at you. Their hearts beating so loud in your ears. You can hear every breath these people take and it's startling you.

"It's okay." Hoseok says. "You're okay."

You shake your head. "Jiyoo-"

"Is being taken care of."

You all look towards Seokjin.

"Apparently some of the rebels stayed behind to confess their crime. Don't know why but they did. But they outed Jiyoo's possible location. So that's being handled."

Hoseok looks back at you and smiles. His eyes are red as is the tip of his nose. He's been crying you note.

You smell blood. All over you. From your wounds, but when you lift your shirt you see nothing.

"I'm confused," you say. Your hands are all over your torso looking for the wounds that are clearly no longer there.

"It's okay." Hoseok grabs your hands. "You're okay."

You shake your head.

No you should be dead. With all of the blood you see here you shouldn't be alive. How did...

You look at Hoseok's neck that's been marred by your teeth. The sounds around you sound like they're being multiplied by one another and your heart. Your nervous but it beats slow.

When the realization that something has been done to you hits you you look at Hoseok with big round eyes.

"What did you do?"

He smiles. "You've been saved.

And now you'll be mine forever."

[cynicalclairvoyantcadaver]

Jude and Madoc oneshot (From Madoc's POV)

11 year old Jude looked at Madoc. 'What you want to do is evade the strike.' he said. 'You can't always evade, but it's best to learn how. Your reflexes have to be quick enough-if they strike suddenly, you'll need to jump back and preferably not fall over. I'm going to strike, and you're going to step back.' 'Ok,' she said. He took the sword and struck at her. She screamed and jumped back, tripping over her feet. 'Yes,' he said, smiling slightly. 'That's what you want to avoid.' He would not admit it, but he was growing to love Jude more than Vivienne. She was so like him-fierce, determined, ready to protect her loved ones at all costs. He saw so much of him in her, rather than Vivienne, though he had spent years thinking about the latter and imagining how she could have been if not for her untimely 'death'. Yet it was Jude whom he gravitated to. She had Eva's fierceness, determination and resilience. What he had originally been attracted to. Taryn was also there, yes, but she was more quiet and submissive. It was Jude that he really liked. And it seemed that she growing to love him as well, though she did not feel comfortable with it. He had let her sit on his lap and eat out of his plate, even though he had murdered her parents in front of her own eyes. Jude flushed. 'Sorry.' she said, darting glances at him. 'Um.' 'Let's try again.' He struck at her and this time, she stepped back expertly. 'Good. Now, it's not always good to evade-you're only putting yourself where the blade is not, which might be useful in some situations, but if you want to end the fight, you'll have to strike back. And sometimes, the enemy will be faster than you, or you will tire out and finally be struck. And if you misjudge their timing, you're done for.' She nodded. 'You want to be able to do a simple BLOCK.' he said. 'When your opponent attacks you, you raise your sword and block their thrust. Put the blade between yourself and your attacker. You can also support the blade, like this-' he grasped the blade in one of his hands while holding the hilt with the other. She practiced the block and at the end of an hour, she had mastered it. 'Amazing, Jude! You're a natural.' he said, smiling at her. 'Keep on doing this and you'll be the best swordsman in Faerie.' 'Swordswoman,' she mumbled, then nodded and smiled back at him. One of their mutual interests was sword fighting-well, their strongest mutual interest, actually. They took many lessons outside, sometimes Jude being covered in dirt and sweat after them, much to Oriana's chagrin. Everything was all right now-he might have murdered their parents, but they seemed to have gotten over them and were well adjusted to Elfhame. (Even if they had left for a brief period of time last year. Vivienne had said that they just needed a vacation from Faerie, but Madoc was glad to see that Jude and Taryn were ecstatic to be back. Even if Vivienne was sulky and depressed.) Still, sometimes he felt depressed looking at them. How could he have killed their mother? They were so young, and it had obviously affected them in terrible ways. He wondered if they still cried into their pillows when they slept. Hopefully not. He was delighted with Jude's progress, and, as time passed, hoped to make her into one of the best, if not THE best, swordsman in Elfhame. It was the least he could do, teach her how to survive in Elfhame, for her mother. Eva may not have been a good wife, but he would be a good father to Jude-and to Taryn, and Vivienne. If there was one thing he would do for his dead wife, it would be to raise her daughters in honour and give them a good life. Fate may not have smiled upon him in the Duarte house, but he was in Elfhame, and by the blood crown would he bend it to his will here.

[shinidamachu]

CHAPTER EIGHT: After You

SUMMARY: “and I’d choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.” – Kiersten White. For each chapter, a prompt from the One Hundred Ways to Say I Love You list.

WORDS: 729

GENRE: angst

FANDOM: Inukag

FORMAT: multichapter

ALSO FOUND ON: AO3

They weren’t going to make it. Not this time.

Kagome couldn’t see the creatures just yet, but she could feel their creep presence in her bones, sense their imminent approximation with every raised hair of her skin.

Inuyasha was exhausted. That much was clear even if she hadn’t watched firsthand as he powered through every Tessaiga technique, strike after strike that were redeemed useless when a hundred demons were annihilated only to be replaced for two hundred more.

She knew he hated running away, but there was nothing else for them to do, nothing left for them there. She didn’t want to think about the others,  about the village, about her feudal fairy tale turned horror story.  Regardless, their screams, their faces would still haunt her for the rest of her life, however short that might be.

Any hope of salvation was shot along the last of her arrows — the only reason they even got this far — and now her only comfort was that if they were going to die, at least they were going to die together. Maybe in different circumstances, that would have been more than enough.

Inuyasha slowed down, the blur of trees gaining shape again to reveal a devastating sight.

There was no going back.

Behind them, the enemies marched closer and closer. In front of them, a cliff that led to nothing but a maroon sunset. No way out.

Her heart sank.

This is how it all ends, with the world Kagome fought so hard to return to caving and bleeding before her very eyes. Three years apart had taught her little, because how else could she have forgotten fate could be so cruel?

It was fitting, though, that they would go down fighting. After everything they’ve been through, it was the only acceptable way to go and Kagome could make her peace with that.

A familiar need to protect blossomed from her chest, more fierce than when she first found out the news a few months ago. Kagome would do anything, try anything to give them a shot. She would raise a barrier and hold it until she draws her final breath on this Earth if she had to.

With renewed faith, she noticed Inuyasha also didn’t seem dejected in the slightest. If anything, he sounded determined as ever as he shouted.

“Kirara!”

The feline came out of her hiding spot in all of her nekomata glory, floating above the edge of the cliff and ready to take them to safety. Inuyasha had planned this. In hindsight, she should have known. He knew the lands better than to guide them to a dead end.

Still, it was odd that he left her out. He never left her out anymore.

In that moment, though, Kagome was too relieved to care.

Inuyasha gently let her climb off his back and she ran to Kirara as fast as her wounded legs would take her, only to realize her husband wasn’t following.

“Inuyasha, come on!”

“After you,” he answered, unsheathing Tessaiga and planting its scabbard firmly on the ground to buy them some time. Kagome was already accommodated on top of Kirara when he finally rushed to her side.

She offered a hand to help him out, but he used his to bring her face down for a desperate kiss instead. It was over before she even knew it began and then he was gently caressing her protuberant belly, his expression saying everything and nothing at all.

“I’ll hold them off.”

“What? No!”

“Kirara, go!”

“Inuyasha!”

“Now!”

His tone left no room for discussion and Kirara took flight before she had a chance to react.

Not much longer, Inuyasha was surrounded, Tessaiga’s sheath the one thing between him and certain death.

“No! Kirara, go back!”

It was no use. No matter how much she shouted, how much she cried, how much she pulled on Kirara’s fur in an attempt to force her to obey, the nekomata stayed unwavering, set on the curse that would take them to safety.

If she was fifteen again, reckless and impulsive, she would have jumped without thinking twice, confident Inuyasha would be there to catch her, not a single doubt in her mind. Years had passed and her trust in him remained unshakeable, but although she would risk her life for him in a heartbeat…

She could never risk their child’s.

“Inuyasha!”

Tears streamed down her face as he diminished with distance, sword in his hand.

A/N.: did you guys really think I wouldn't write anything for @inukag-week? Here's a little something for the "safe" prompt. Hope you guys enjoy.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Forbidden Love (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

A Life So Changed (ao3) - Pilferingstarlight

Summary: TITANIC AU-- 1912. Phil Lester, the aristocratic son of one of the most prominent millionaires in England, travelling first class aboard the Titanic to America, where he will announce his engagement to a woman he is not quite sure he loves, and Dan Howell, the penniless third class wanderer who is travelling to America to seek opportunity and adventure. Different as sun and moon, they were never supposed to meet but one evening strike up a close friendship that develops into something much more. As they draw closer to their destination, they are faced with a single question: can their love survive or is it doomed to remain forever on the ill fated ship of dreams? (Loosely based off the 1997 film)

A Rose by Any Other Name (ao3) - MirabelleG

Summary: Set at the time of Romeo and Juliet. Dan and Phil meet at the masked ball and despite their opposing households they learn that their love is the most important thing.

A Stolen Ring (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan’s not normal. Why?

He's not human, he has a mysterious ring, and he hates Phil Lester. They have a strange past, one filled with bullying and avoidance, but when Dan turns into an incubus, everything changes. He struggles with his identity and cries himself to sleep most nights, yearning to be normal. And somehow the universe makes it worse by bringing him and Phil together - in the most literal sense.

Amaranth (ao3) - softsocks (orphan_account)

Summary: 'an imaginary flower that never fades; a purple colour'

Brotherly Love (ao3) - MySecretsX

Summary: Some family secrets remain hidden, others in punishments worse than death.

A slip-up in Dan's Mum's early life and a separate relationship years later, what were the chances the two half-brothers would fall in love?

Fate. Fate is the percentage of chance.

Not all soulmates have happy endings; some are forbidden, others cause endings for things too late to say goodbye to.

Butterfly (ao3) - A_Million_Regrets

Summary: Phil Lester, a lonely writer, finds a dying boy with beautiful black wings on a cold, rainy night in a dingy alleyway. He recognizes the boy as one of the winged men hated by human society. They are considered to be wild, ferocious beasts, but Phil's sympathy forces him to help the boy.

What happens when the boy, considered to be a wild beast, gets too attached and follows him home with an innocent, dimpled smile?

Give Me My Sin Again (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: It's the era when love is a sin,

but Dan and Phil fall in love despite the rules.

Life Would Be Funny (If It Weren't So Damn Tragic) (ao3) - mysticstargirl

Summary: Demons and Angels being soulmates is unheard of; blasphemous even.

In which Dan just wants to love and be loved, and Phil supposes it was never going to work out for them in the first place anyway; You can't stay warm forever.

Prince... oh my prince (ao3) - ReallyPham

Summary: Rich girls don't marry poor boys.

But can rich boys marry poor boys?

siren song (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summary: He thinks of last night, teetering on the edge of the cliff, so happy with the idea of following Phil’s voice all the way down. That’d been a particularly close call, and he doesn’t even care. He just wants to hear the song again.

Straight To Video (ao3) - DisasterSoundtrack

Summary: It’s his face. His eyes, especially. They’re brown, the color warm like melted chocolate, but they’re also vulnerable and terrified, playing into the vibe of the song even better than the dancer’s body, even though he twirls and jumps and spreads himself thin. The real heartbreak is appearing right here, right on the dancefloor, as the dancer sheds a single, perfect tear.

Phil's peaceful, ordinary life takes an unexpected detour into a passionate, forbidden romance with a dancer, Dan.

The Roles We Play (ao3) - adorkablephil (kimberly_a)

Summary: Dan Howell and Phil Lester work together as voice actors for BBC radio dramas in the late 1930s, but slowly begin to develop “inappropriate” feelings for each other. (No characters die *in* this story, but there is some grief and sadness related to their deaths in the past.)

The Torment of Existence (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan was born into a world where your eyes mean everything. If you have grey eyes you're fine, but those with colored eyes are usually blind. Dan is one of the few who are not.

They'll Tear Us Apart If You Give Them the Chance (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan and Phil are both princes and they've been taught to hate each other their whole lives. They meet in a forest.