#*incredible violence ensues*

[corpusdiem-seizethedead]

*Angel and Husk taking Nuggets for a walk, minding their business*

Some rando: Slut!

Angel: *stops*

Angel: Hold my pig-

Husk: Kick his ass, baby. I got your pig-

[pa1nrema1ns]

Two Intertwining Melodies || Sung Jin-woo (Part 2 of 3)

Siren!Jin-woo x Deaf!Omega!reader

A/N: Hello again everyone! Thank you so much for all of your interest and feedback on part one of this series. Due to the sheer enormity of the second chapter, I've decided to expand the siren au into a trilogy rather than a two-parter. My dear friend and beta reader @forbidden-sunlight has been an absolutely incredible source of support in the creation of this story. She also wrote the imagine that inspired this au. Links to the prologue and first chapter are posted below. Do be sure to read them first before continuing. And as always, heed the content warnings that are listed.

╰┈➤ Previous Chapters

🦪 Prologue by @forbidden-sunlight 🧜‍♂️ Part 1: Master and Apprentice

Content warnings: 18+MDNI, canon divergent, graphic descriptions of gore, death, and violence, afab!reader, reader is a makeup artist and hair stylist in the entertainment industry, a/b/o dynamics, heavy mentions of heat cycles, knotting, and breeding, threats of assault/non-con made by Kang Taeshik towards the reader (Jinchul intervenes and protects her), suggestive themes, some sexual descriptors, mythical creatures au, yandere!Jin-woo.

Word count - 9.6k

Summary - You find yourself returning to your childhood home of Jindo Island after receiving the offer of a lifetime. However, you can't shake the feeling that someone or something is watching you.

Dividers by @anitalenia and @firefly-graphics

[Skill: "Monarch’s Domain" Has Been Activated.]

“Come on out!”

A cacophony of deafening blasts, wails, and the clash of steel rings across the crimson-tinged horizon of the one hundredth floor of the Demon’s Castle; a perfect accompaniment to the Armageddon currently taking place. Infantrymen by the hundreds emerge from the shadows to skewer Baran’s forces while Iron, Igris, and Tank slaughter the larger and more formidable combatants with wanton brutality. Issuing a non-verbal command, Jin-woo orders Tusk to incinerate his enemies with ‘Song of Inferno,’ and a calamitous ball of flames bursts forth, eradicating most of the battalion.  

“Amazing… on all the top floors I’ve been with him, I’ve seen nothing quite like this,” Esil whispered in awe. Although she was a demon princess who grew up in this wasteland and had seen many spectacular sights, the power of commanding shadow soldiers was most certainly not one of them.

In contrast to his companion, Jin-woo calmly observes the cataclysmic destruction with a piercing gaze. Despite gaining the upper hand against his troops, Baran remained steadfast in his refusal to engage directly in the ensuing fight. This simply would not do. Jin-woo needed to secure his victory in this decisive battle, and fast.

Jinwoo’s opponent possessed the last ingredient required to craft the Holy Water of Life: The Purified Blood of the Demon Monarch. A fortnight of endless fighting had culminated to this moment, and he was on the precipice of triumph. But the Demon King was unlike any adversary he had ever faced before. Jin-woo could gauge just from the sheer murderous energy emanating from him that Baran was in a league of his own. And his power spoke for itself: endless demon hordes at his beck and call, a wyvern as a mount, and an insurmountable supply of mana that showed no signs of running out. Jin-woo would need to approach his foe strategically lest he lose this war of attrition.

At long last, as if he could sense the siren’s impatience, the Demon King makes his move. He bids his steed to fly at a lower altitude. Once within range, Baran unhinges his jaw and unleashes a massive beam of white lightning. Within seconds, thunder runs rampant throughout the land, devastating everything in its path. However, Jin-woo and his shadow army stand strong regardless of the imminent danger.  The siren even has the audacity to smirk. 

So Baran thought he could defeat him with electricity? Excellent. He really could not have asked for a better opponent. As luck would have it, Jin-woo’s oceanic nature gave him the edge in this situation. The surface of water, acting as a conductor of electricity, causes high voltages and amps to spread rapidly. With this in mind, Jin-woo launches a counterattack.

“Wreak havoc on all who dare to stand in my way, Charybdis!”

Powerful torrents of black seawater manifest from the shadows just before Baran’s attack could hit him. The rushing stream then runs across the land and coalesces into a violent maelstrom in the sky. The raging vortex absorbs most of the lightning in its maw before redirecting its flow towards the Demon King. Baran wills his steed to evade by canting to the left, but Tusk incapacitates him by striking the wyvern’s wing with a blast of fire magic. The Demon King leaps from his mount’s back before it’s forced into the whirlpool and electrocuted. He lands gracefully on his feet and shoots a sinister grin at Jin-woo.

“It was worth it to let Tusk have the sphere,” the siren remarks nonchalantly, as if it was just any other day and not a fight to the death. “I’m glad you’re finally on the ground. Constantly looking up was making me tired.”

With the Demon King grounded, Jin-woo no longer required the aquatic effects of Charybdis. The dark water above evaporates as it returns to the abyssal depths of the ocean, its job now complete. With this hindrance finally gone, Baran doesn’t hesitate to release another beam of white thunder, this one even greater than the last. Tusk attempts to lessen the impact with ‘Song of Protection’, but the force of taking a direct hit ends up obliterating him. Undeterred by his comrade’s demise, Iron bellows at Baran and slashes at his body with his axe. But he proves to be no match for the speed of the Demon King, who ruthlessly splits his head in half. Igris then valiantly joins the fray and swings his great sword at the demon. However, this too is a fruitless endeavor, as Baran swiftly catches his blade and wipes him out with a flick of his wrist.

Just as Igris’s body fades, Jin-woo emerges from the ashes in his true sirenic form, Knight Killer and Baruka’s dagger at the ready. “Scylla!” He snarls a second incantation that brings forth another wave of black water, this time in the shape of a six-headed beast. The aqueous leviathan slams into Baran, crushing his body under its weight and submerging the entire floor of the dungeon in water. The Demon King swiftly breaks free from the tides and springs onto the roof of one of the sole remaining towers. Soaking wet and surrounded by large bodies of water, Baran ends up on the defensive; if he were to use his lightning, he risked electrocuting himself. Jin-woo was also in an environment that favored him, and the Demon King could not pinpoint his whereabouts while he was swimming underwater.

Even with this advantage, the gap in power was still significant between the two. Knowing this, Jin-woo doesn’t allow him a moment of reprieve. He uses his tail to project his body from the currents and launches at the Demon King with his daggers. The demon responds in kind, countering his onslaught with a flurry of strikes from his own weapons. Jin-woo holds his own against the extraordinary speed of Baran’s slashes. But he was low on mana, and fatigue was rapidly building up. While oceanic magic was incredibly effective, it incurred a high cost of mana. This, coupled with an extended exposure to a dry, fiery atmosphere, was having a seriously detrimental effect on his endurance. It was time to end the battle after dragging it out for so long. Jin-woo just needed an opportunity to catch the demon off guard– 

Klang!

A loud noise reverberates in the dungeon as a lance ricochets off Baran’s head. The demon redirects his focus to the sheepish face of Esil. Huh? I thought I told her to head for higher ground. When did she…? Jin-woo ponders briefly before banishing the thought. He requested a distraction, and someone kindly provided him with one. He wasn’t about to squander his only chance.

Using Baran’s hesitation to his advantage, Jin-woo discards his short swords and sinks his fangs into the Demon King’s neck, crushing down on his windpipe. As Baran struggles to throw him off, Jin-woo unsheathes his claws and gouges out chunks of flesh. The demon howls in agony, his pained cries music to the siren’s ears. “How stupid of me,” Jin-woo sneers, his voice deepening in pitch as his actions became more monstrous, “I was fighting you like a man this entire time, when this is who I really am. Heh, I guess being disguised as a human for so long made me forget.”

Summoning all his strength, Jin-woo uses his muscular arms to tear Baran’s torso from his body. The vicious mauling completely eviscerates the demon, with only his entrails being left over in its wake. His victory now secured, Jin-woo exhaustedly slumps to the ground and reverts to his human appearance. The throes of battle destroyed most of his clothes, much to his chagrin. The only apparel that remained intact were his tattered jeans, and those only just spared his modesty. He scoffed in annoyance; he’d need to purchase a new wardrobe soon to make himself more presentable for you …

“Jin-woo, sir!” Esil dashes towards him with a worried look on her cute face. The siren smirks, satisfied despite the many setbacks he faced during this confrontation.

“Esil, tell your father the Radis clan is now the number one family.”

“Jin-woo sir,” the demon girl responds exasperatedly, “Our family name is Radir.”

6:00 AM, on the outskirts of Jindo Island…

Jin-woo deeply inhales the crisp morning air as he soars through the endless skies. Much had transpired in the short time between the conclusion of his showdown with Baran and now. He had gained the Purified Blood of the Demon Monarch, along with the World Tree Fragment, and Spring Water from Echo Forest. With these three components, he was at last able to craft the Holy Water of Life. Once finished, he cradled the precious vial in his palm, as if trying to ascertain proof of its existence. Afterwards, Jin-woo deposited it into his magical inventory for safekeeping.

Of course, the elixir was just one of the many spoils of war he had claimed. Kaisel, the wyvern who now served as his mount, was his for the taking after Baran’s death. The gift of flight had expedited the journey home, much to his joy. A rune stone had also provided him with the skill, ‘Shadow Exchange,' a means of trading places with any of his soldiers scattered throughout land and sea. Thanks to this new ability, he was able to leave that hellish landscape. After being gone for what felt like eons, Jin-woo was desperate to return. To his family. To Ashborn. To you.

He’s relieved when the familiar cityscape of Jindo-gun comes into view. He estimates it would take roughly 15 more minutes for them to arrive over the briny waters. However, before they can make it past the coastline, the spellbinding fragrance of bergamot and vanilla overwhelms Jin-woo’s senses. This could mean only one thing: you were nearby. The headiness of your musk had also gotten more potent in his absence, signifying your fertility.

“Fuck!” Jin-woo’s hisses as desire courses hot and heavy through his veins. He tries to resist the temptation of your pheromones, but you smelt so damn good; so ready and willing for him and his knot –

Jin-woo grunts as he bites down hard enough on his bottom lip to draw blood. The pain causes him to regain some mental clarity, and he wills himself to calm down. But it’s of no use. His thoughts were currently being clouded by lust and the instinctual drive to breed. Those two weeks he endured in the Demon’s Castle had significantly intensified his longing for you, and the pent-up sexual frustration was coming to a head. Jin-woo really had to nip this in the bud. His stamina was at its limit, and he was in no condition to be seen by you. The siren also desperately needed to go home and check in on his mother and Jin-ah. He was the only alpha and protector of their family after the disappearance of his father. He couldn’t afford to waste another—

The wind carries your scent as it blows past Jin-woo’s face a second time. It was as if you were beckoning him like some sort of enchantress. Unable to ignore your maddening aroma, Jin-woo at last gives in. He knew the decision he was about to make was foolish, reckless even. But he must heed the call of his omega.

He silently apologizes to his mother and Jin-ah and asks them to wait just a little longer. “I’ll only introduce myself… maybe I can even get her name,” he tries to reason with himself while slowly succumbing to delirium. His mind made up, Jin-woo commands Kaisel to deliver him to the area where your scent is the strongest. The wyvern then returns to the void shortly thereafter, leaving the worn out siren to his own devices.

Grainy sand molds against his bare feet as stumbles across the beach in search of you. “Shit. If this keeps up, I might not make it back to Mom and Jin-ah.” Jin-woo mumbles softly. He really was in poor form. Maybe it had been a mistake to depart immediately for Jindo island without taking a break in between. Damn. 

As black spots start to obscure his vision, Jin-woo’s gaze finally lands on you. His lips quirk into a tired smile. Even through blurry eyes, you looked absolutely stunning while standing in the sunlight. Like an earthly goddess.

With his consciousness ebbing further and further away, the siren musters up the last of his energy to stagger towards you. He makes it only two steps before his body gives out and he collapses. Rather than hitting the hard ground, a soft and warm embrace met Jin-woo. He blearily cracks open an eye, curious about what broke his fall. It was at that moment your lovely, albeit worried face greeted him. Pretty, he thinks, exhaustion finally taking its toll on him. The last thing Jin-woo remembers before the darkness overtakes him is the soothing smell of bergamot and vanilla.

Two weeks ago, someone or something had been watching you. It was during the first day of filming the mystery-thriller, ‘Murder on the Cerulean Sea’, a passion project by renowned producer, Go Gun-hee. The man had an incredible work ethic, with a career spanning over 40 years and numerous accolades to his name. He had recently come out of retirement, and the entertainment industry was buzzing with anticipation. Known as a cinematic miracle maker, every motion picture Go Gun-hee produced set box office records. Suffice to say, you had been over the moon after finding out you were amongst the few who made the cut for makeup artists hired to work on set. Although the instant you found out where the filming location was to take place, you immediately felt your enthusiasm dampen. Jindo-gun. At one point, this had been your home. Now, it was but a distant memory.

You had spent most of your childhood on the island of Jindo. Its scenic beaches, sprawling forests, and crystalline waters made it ideal for shooting a film based on a luxury yacht charter. There was one major caveat however: the sirens. Several pods of these unpredictable creatures resided off the coast of Jindo, and the alphas were infamous for their aggression, especially during the height of the mating season.

Growing up, your parents warned you time and time again not to walk alone along the shores at night. "Don’t ever go to the beach by yourself after dark," your mother had signed this to you almost every day. A constant reminder to stay safe and vigilant of your surroundings. Townsfolk also gossiped and shared sordid stories about the lost souls who fell victim to the sirens. But this wasn’t just word of mouth, a child’s fairytale, or mere superstition. These deadly apex predators were very much real, and a troublingly high number of homicides were committed by them each year. Unfortunately, this did little to dissuade foolhardy tourists and arrogant fishermen from pouring into the island during the hotter months of spring and summer.

Eager to escape the foreboding atmosphere, you had applied to and been accepted into a 2-year cosmetology program in Busan shortly after finishing high school. Makeup had always been a strong interest of yours and with the support of both your parents you flourished in your craft.

Although you had been nervous about the transition from quaint suburbia to the big city life, you found yourself quickly growing accustomed to the fast-paced environment. Your school had also been very accommodating, providing you with a sign language interpreter and captioning services for your classes. A kindhearted young woman by the name of Lee Joohee had been assigned as your interpreter during your time in Busan. You became fast friends and remained close even after graduation.

After receiving your license, you relocated to a small apartment in Seoul and began working as a hair and makeup artist in stage productions, commercials, and musicals. You greatly enjoyed the creativity and networking opportunities of your profession, often getting to bump shoulders with many well-known actors and actresses. Within a few years, your portfolio grew considerably. This enabled you to broaden your horizons by breaking into the film industry. ‘Murder on the Cerulean Sea,’ would be your first foray into this competitive market and you wanted to prove yourself as a newcomer to the scene. So, despite your reservations, you begrudgingly agreed to board the private jet headed for Jindo island.

If you recall correctly, the mating season for the sirens wouldn’t take place for another four months, so everything should proceed without a hitch… right?  

You began to feel a little more at ease when you found out Cha Hae-In and Yoo Jinho were cast in major roles in the movie. You had first met them when they were both burgeoning stage actors. Cha was surprisingly camera shy and preferred to keep a more subdued profile whereas Jinho was outgoing and incredibly humble despite his privileged background. The bubbly brunet was the youngest son of the chairman of Yoojin Construction Company, a major industrial conglomerate in South Korea.

Although you came from different walks of life, the three of you had hit it off right away, finding common ground in your passions for campy horror films. You even taught them a few signs, and this inspired Jinho to devote himself fully to learning sign language. Cha also practiced her signs with you whenever she had the chance, but her busy schedule often made it difficult for her to find spare time. Nevertheless, you were deeply touched by the efforts made by both of your friends.

While taking a break on set, you felt a pair of eyes boring into you as you were relaxing with Cha and Jinho. At first, you chalked it up to paranoia. It had been years since you visited the island, and you’d nearly forgotten how oppressive the ocean seemed at night. But it was the middle of May. The mating season for the sirens would not take place until September at the earliest. Regardless, the sensation of being watched still lingered even after the mysterious presence had left.

There was also the enthralling scent of lavender and sandalwood thickly permeating the air. It had a distinctly masculine undertone to it that had piqued your interest. It was far too strong to be from a couple spritzes of cologne or perfume, yet more subtle than the pungent smell emanating from many of the alphas who composed the cast and crew onboard the yacht. Their musk was overbearing at best, but this fragrance was entirely different. It was sweet. Delicate. Intoxicating…

You had to find the source of it. Making up an excuse about wanting to get more fresh air, you stay behind on the deck of the ship while your friends return to their accommodations to retire for the evening. As you lean over the railing to scope out the scent, an intense wave of heat suddenly ignites in your lower belly causing you to gasp and buckle at the knees. It briefly lingers in your abdomen before shooting directly to your core. You bite back a moan as your eyes flutter shut from the pleasure spreading throughout your body. Slowly but surely, you were entering into a primal state; one of pure unbridled arousal. You should be concerned. No, you should be horrified. You were so vulnerable, so out of sorts. And yet…

You had never felt so exhilarated. It was as if ecstasy became you. You were ascending higher and higher to parts unknown, all semblance of rationality long since abandoned. The coil in your gut was wound so tight, it was at its breaking point. If this continued, you would inevitably plummet over the edge and succumb to your baser instincts –  

The metallic odor of copper violently infiltrates the air, abruptly bringing you back to your senses. Your eyes bolt open, and you release a shaky breath. You’re surprised to find yourself on your knees. They must’ve given out on you at some point. However, your shock shifts to horror when you catch sight of an unruly mop of purple hair from the corner of your eye.

It could only belong to one individual: Kang Taeshik.

Shit. You’d been acquainted with the man just yesterday, but he terrified you. Taeshik was an up-and-coming actor on the scene; one who excelled in any role he played. In spite of this, the first impression he left on you was enough to make you keep your distance. Although Taeshik’s demeanor was docile, there was a cold and calculating look in his eyes that made you shudder. It reminded you of a predator eyeing its prey. The most off-putting aspect of the man, however, was his stomach-churning scent. He positively reeked of blood.

You could feel panic setting in as he began to saunter towards you, a lascivious smirk spread across his face like a dark promise. You’re unable to rise to your feet, still weakened and lightheaded from the erotic sensations affecting you earlier. Worse yet, you feel a lump in your throat, making it difficult to shout or scream for help should the need arise. You were essentially cornered, defenseless, and alone with a menacing alpha. And if the pungency of his musk was anything to go by, he was on the verge of a rut. You sink back into yourself in fear and begin to tremble uncontrollably.

You can see Taeshik’s mouth moving as he closes in on you. You’d become adept at lip reading over the years, although it was difficult to decipher everything he was saying in the darkness. The only words that you can make out are "little omega" and "whore." Your blood curdles. Someone, anyone, please help me! You silently plead, knowing it was futile. For a moment, you foolishly imagine the owner of that enticing scent coming to your rescue.

Thankfully, just before Taeshik can grab you, a large hand envelops his wrist in a vice grip.

The purple haired nightmare cants his gaze to the side and narrows his eyes. He’s greeted by the furious expression of none other than the film’s director, Woo Jinchul. Relief floods your chest at the sight of him. Thank God, you think.

Taeshik rips his arm away and leaps back, creating some distance between himself and the taller man. Jinchul quickly assumes a protective stance in front of you. His broad back prevented you from seeing your would-be assailant, something you were extremely grateful for. For a few tense moments, you can only sit and stare at Jinchul’s imposing figure as he confronts the other man.

Despite how scared you are, you wish you could partake in the conversation if only to defend yourself. Taeshik may try to manipulate the situation by implicating you as an instigator or seductress, something many male actors in the industry unfortunately got away with due to their connections or wealth. It was despicable and made you seethe with anger at the salacious lies and rumors spread by the press and social media.

After several painstaking minutes, Taeshik departs with nary but a shrug of indifference. Apparently Jinchul’s status and power as director did nothing to intimidate him. He waits until Taeshik’s figure disappears before turning to face you. There’s an uncharacteristic warmth in his usually hard gaze, and you’re able to catch a whiff of his natural scent: cardamom and cedarwood, a calming combination.

Jinchul gently offers his hand and effortlessly hoists you to your feet. Your legs are still somewhat stiff but functional now. He permits you to steady yourself by grasping onto his shoulders and it doesn’t escape you how oddly intimate these actions are. As if to further prove this, Jinchul, in a strange display of affection, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your breath hitches.

A beat passes before the realization of what he just did hits him. Jinchul’s eyes widen, and he quickly snatches his hand back as if he was scalded. And was it your imagination, or were his ears turning pink? He awkwardly clears his throat before opening his mouth. ‘Are you alright? Did Taeshik harm you in any way?’ You read his lips closely, appreciating the pauses and slow enunciation of his words. Jinchul was aware that you could lip read rather efficiently, and this made it easier to communicate with him since he would not have to always rely on an interpreter.

You shake your head and see him breathing a sigh of relief. ‘He won’t ever be allowed near you again; I will make sure of it.’ Jinchul is back to his usual no-nonsense demeanor it seems. But what had caused him to act so… tender towards you? And Taeshik? The man had always been creepy and taciturn, but he never went out of his way to torment you. If Jinchul hadn’t arrived at just the right time, you could have been assaulted. You feel bile rising to your throat at the thought. Why was this happening? You were always careful and made sure to take your heat suppressants every day. None of the alphas you worked with had ever tried to hurt you before, so why? Unless you were going into heat, but that shouldn’t be possible…

You suddenly break into a sob, overcome with emotion. Your distress causes Jinchul to spring into action. He promptly removes his blazer and drapes it over your shoulders to ward off the chill of the night. Jinchul then produces an embellished handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to you. He hesitates before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and his lips move again. ‘I’m here for you,’ he mouths. You wipe away the tears with the handkerchief and stifle your cries into its soft fabric. All the while, Jinchul remains by your side and grants you as much time as you need to collect yourself. When the tears finally run their course, you lower the ruined towelette from your face and chance a timid glance at him.

Jinchul regards you with a pensive expression on his sharp features. He withdraws his hand from your shoulder and reaches back into his pocket to pull out his phone. He then begins typing away and once finished with his message, he hands the device over to you, displaying the contents of his notebook app.

"As director of this film, I want you to know that I will always prioritize the wellbeing of our cast and crew. With that being said, the actions I witnessed Kang Taeshik commit tonight were morally reprehensible. I won’t disclose the full details of the discussion I had with him, as I do not wish to cause you any further emotional distress. I will say that I can personally attest to the fact that Kang Taeshik sought to menace and harm you while you were in a vulnerable state of heat."

You feel your heart sink into the pit of your stomach as you skim over the last sentence. So Jinchul knew you had unexpectedly gone into heat? Of course he would; he was an alpha. How could you have been so stupid? The director was most certainly going to see you as a liability now… you may even end up losing your job.

You reluctantly force yourself to continue reading. If this to be the conclusion of your tenure, then at least you would see it through to the bitter end.

"Please do not blame yourself for what has happened. Your disposition as an omega has no bearing on your contract or employment, nor does it offer an excuse for an alpha, or anyone for that matter, to harass you. It is with impartial and sound judgment that I have made the executive decision to terminate Kang Taeshik and remove him from production effective immediately. This will cause some inevitable delays, but an impromptu casting call can be arranged in the meantime. I’m willing to run over schedule if it guarantees everyone’s safety."

You exhale and feel all the tension dissipate from your body. So, you weren’t the one being let go, Taeshik was. You hadn’t known much about Woo Jinchul beforehand, but you were thankful that he was a man of good character. This was becoming exceedingly rare in an industry composed of unscrupulous and morally bankrupt members of the upper echelons.

You type back a response before handing him his phone.

"I am so sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I really don’t understand what happened. I’ve been taking suppressants for years, and an alpha has never tried to threaten me before. Thank you for stepping in to protect me. I really don’t know what he was planning to do."

You couldn’t help but apologize even though Jinchul had vindicated you. What leaves you reeling, however, is the reply he gives you when the mobile device is back in your hands.

"I should be the one to apologize, not you. My behavior towards you earlier was incredibly uncouth, and for that, I am deeply sorry. As director, I should be conducting myself in a manner that is more befitting. Instead, I allowed my instincts as an alpha to impair my judgement. I promise this shall not happen again."

Uncouth behavior? Did he mean when he was brushing your hair from your face? How could he be apologetic about something so innocuous?  The implications don’t fully register until you replay that last sentence: My instincts as an alpha. Instincts…alpha…!?!

He was reacting to your pheromones.

That evening, Jinchul insisted on having you treated at the on-site infirmary. Alas, with few medical staff and even less equipment it was difficult to determine what was causing your symptoms. Was it possible your medication was no longer working? Omega suppressants were highly effective, but that didn’t mean they were infallible. A missed dose or interaction with another drug could negate the effects. But you weren’t taking any other medications, and you never missed a dose.

Needing a second opinion, you were transported to the emergency room at a nearby hospital for further evaluation. Jinchul had opted to let Cha and Jinho drive you there after explaining your circumstances to them (minus the issue with Kang Taeshik; he was keeping it under wraps for now). Unlike him, they were both betas which made them immune to your pheromones.

You ended up being kept overnight for observation. After running a series of tests, including labs to assess your hormones and an ultrasound, you were found to be undergoing a pseudo estrus or ‘false heat’ as it’s more commonly referred to.

Unlike a regular heat, a false heat occurs only when a highly compatible alpha is within close vicinity of an omega. This in turn triggers a massive release of pheromones leading to an increase in libido, fever-like symptoms, cramping, and fatigue. Whoever this alpha was, their presence was so virile that your heat suppressants were fully canceled out by them.

You were questioned extensively about your experience by the healthcare team. "Do you have any partners? Are you sexually active? Is there anyone you work with who is an alpha? When did you first start experiencing the signs of your heat?" The list was never-ending. With the help of an interpreter, you answered everything to the best of your ability. And by the end of it all, you were still at a loss.

No one on that yacht had been emitting that scent, you were sure of it. It had to have been someone wholly unrelated. Perhaps a fisherman or a swimmer? But it was late and everyone who was local to the island knew better than to risk the waters at night. Everyone except you and the entourage on board the yacht, that is.

Frustrated, you eventually gave up on trying to figure out the identity of your potential mate. Your physician, a compassionate fellow omega by the name of Min Byung-Gu, strongly recommended an entire week of bed rest for you. This was to serve as a means of letting the heat cycle run its course. You were also provided with prescription medications to alleviate your symptoms.

Resting was crucial. Any physical stress or strain could worsen your condition, and omegas were particularly susceptible to injury or illness while at their sexual peak. In addition to this, your doctor recommended ceasing all contact with alphas, effectively barring you from returning to work. You were crestfallen at this, but you acquiesced knowing it was for the sake of your recovery.

To avoid any mishaps, Jinchul arranged for you to stay in a penthouse for the time being. The lavish suite was situated on the very top floor of a deluxe condominium, affording you all the personal comforts and privacy you would need. You couldn’t help but snort when you opened the door to your new living quarters. It was like you were a goddamn princess trapped in a tower.

As if that wasn’t enough, your boss had also hired two very intimidating bodyguards. Both were betas who had been tasked with protecting you during your heat. The first to be introduced was a hulking beast of a man called Thomas Andre. He was huge, with a herculean frame that looked to be made of steel rather than flesh and blood. A wild mane of blonde hair and intricate patterns of black ink also adorned his chest and arms, making him even more imposing.

The disarming smile he gives you is anything but, however. He’s also surprisingly gentle with you when he shakes your hand.

Your other bodyguard had a physicality that was far less egregious, but his razor-edged gaze, unnervingly calm composure, and the bulging muscles of his arms revealed a powerful aura that was not to be underestimated. This man had gone by the name of Liu Zhigang, a master swordsman of the highest caliber and one of the strongest individuals in China.

He too, had been unexpectedly friendly, even going so far as to ruffle your hair and calling you a “good girl,” in his native language. Your interpreter had been particularly scandalized while signing this to you after you were insistent on finding out what he said. You, on the other hand, thought it was rather cute, especially when juxtaposed with his tough guy image. There had also been no ill intent or malice in his words; he was being genuinely amiable to you, just as Thomas Andre had been.

Perhaps you could make do with this situation. But you could only imagine how hefty of a price tag these two highly skilled warriors could warrant. Jinchul was sparing absolutely no expense on you. He must have felt terribly guilty about your traumatic experience that night…

You make a vow with yourself not to take his generosity for granted.

And so, the next week passes by rather uneventfully. You ended up becoming stir crazy right from the beginning. You had been so accustomed to the fast-paced lifestyle of a makeup artist and hair stylist that the very concept of wasting the day away seemed foreign. Gone were the 12–14-hour shifts that had once encompassed your daily routine. It was maddening, this sudden lack of purpose.

Sleeping, reading, eating, and binge-watching dramas with closed captioning had been your main escape from the dullness of being confined to bed all day. No one, not even your parents, Jinho, or Cha had been permitted to visit you while on bedrest. Jinchul and Min Byung-Gu had advised you to limit all external stimulation while you were in heat. You understood the importance of this, but it did nothing to prepare you for the overwhelming loneliness that awaited you.

Sure, your bodyguards had been cordial to you, but they were preoccupied with keeping watch over the premises and warding off any intruders. Neither one had time to engage with you beyond a simple greeting or farewell. Even your interpreter kept her presence scarce, coming only twice per day to check in with you and to relay messages from your friends, family, and the director.

It was as if you were a bird in a gilded cage. Locked away, out of sight, and out of mind. You hated every second of it. You wanted to curse the cruel hand you were dealt, to resent the alpha who had caused you all this misery in the first place. But…

You couldn’t bring yourself to do it no matter how unbearable the isolation became.

Once those seven agonizingly slow days were over and done, you were given medical clearance to resume your job. You never thought you would be so happy to work again. Of course, you still had some restrictions in place. Jinchul wanted you to take it easy, so he requested that you work no more than 4-6 hours per day. At this point, you were willing to do anything if it kept you out of that forlorn penthouse.

In addition to this, you were prescribed a significantly higher dosage of oral heat suppressants. It was to be used as a prophylactic to ensure you would not enter a second heat. The side-effects had been merciful, with nothing more than the occasional bout of nausea and a loss of appetite to show for.

Jinho and Cha were ecstatic to see you again, although your other colleagues were far less enthusiastic. The attentiveness and apparent favoritism towards you by the director did not go unnoticed. You were predictably met with the cold shoulder by many of your peers upon your return. It didn’t help that Jinchul had kept the confrontation between him and Taeshik confidential. Only executive producer Go and your bodyguards were made aware. This was done to protect you and to prevent the besmirching of your character by the media. The rest of the cast and crew had simply been told that Taeshik had departed from the film due to ‘irreconcilable and creative differences.’ The purple haired man’s PR team, for their part, also appeared to be going with this story.

Frankly, you could care less about what your coworkers thought of you. You were just glad that you never had to be around a horrible psychopath like Taeshik ever again. Cha and Jinho, on the other hand, had taken it upon themselves to act as your newly appointed bodyguards in Thomas’s and Zhigang’s stead. Any nasty gossip or snide remarks were met with a frosty glare from the blonde woman and threats of litigation from the heir apparent of Yoojin Construction.

You couldn’t have asked for better friends or a more considerate boss, but you were starting to find the constant protection and coddling from them to be too much. You were a woman with her own autonomy after all. And yet you were being treated like a piece of glass, as if you would shatter with the slightest gust of wind. It was suffocating and your newly toxic work environment certainly wasn’t making matters any better.

To keep yourself grounded (and from going insane) you had taken to embarking on early morning walks along the beach. The peace and tranquility were a welcome solace from the tumultuous reality of your situation. You could spend hours getting lost in the beauty of the dawning sun.

You should have known this temporary serenity was not to last.

That Sunday had started out much like any other morning. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, changed into a pair of leggings with a matching sports bra, and slid on some comfortable running shoes. It was a little before dawn, and you were hoping to catch the breathtaking sight of the sunrise along the sandy marshes of the island. You weren’t scheduled to work, so you had all the time in the world to explore and enjoy nature. You planned to make the most of it.

You start off by walking to a well-known bakery to purchase some freshly made kkwabaegi. The crispiness of the fried dough complements your coffee perfectly. After eating your sweet treat, you continue your journey, heading southbound for a local beach. The area was usually a tourist trap in the summer, but it was much less populated at this time of day.

The moment your foot connects with the sand, you are instantly hit by the familiar smell of lavender and sandalwood. You begin to panic.

 Shit! It was that alpha from a few weeks ago!

You know the right thing to do, the reasonable thing to do, would be to turn back and run. You were all alone in a secluded area with someone who was potentially dangerous. The last time you were near them, you had been rendered completely helpless just from their pheromones alone. If you got too close to them, you could end up going into another heat.

The other possibilities were more nightmarish. You’d heard horror stories about depraved alphas who would kidnap omegas and force them into becoming their mates against their will. Dominance amongst alphas these days was often synonymous with entitlement, something many of them would use to justify their disgusting actions. If this person nearby was of the same barbaric mindset…

Despite the storm of conflicting emotions raging within you, you remain rooted to the spot. It was just no use; you couldn’t convince yourself to retreat. Curiosity and the need for closure far outweighed your fear and anxiety. You had to find out the identity of this individual, regardless of the risk.

You steel yourself before nervously trudging in the direction of the scent. For whatever reason, the strength of the alpha’s pheromones was nowhere near the same extent as it was on that night. It was soothing this time, like a hot shower at the end of an exhausting day. Had the increased dose of your heat suppressants been responsible for this? Well, no use in questioning it now.

As the aroma grows stronger, you find yourself heading closer towards the sea. The sun was starting to peak over the tussling waves, and you briefly turned your head to avoid receiving an eyeful of blinding light. It’s in the periphery of your vision that you finally see him: the alpha that had been evading you for so long.

Even from a several yards away, you can tell he’s quite tall; standing at a height of around 185 cm. He’s also naked from the waist up, with only a pair of shredded jeans on his figure. But what captivates you most is the feverishness and intensity of his gaze. No one had ever looked at you like this before. It was almost reverent. Like you were some kind of deity.

The man staggers towards you slowly. Had he been hurt? There didn’t appear to be a scratch on him, although his remaining clothes were a mess. You reason that he must be experiencing heat exhaustion. This would explain why he had taken off his shirt. Your hackles lowered, you decide to throw caution to the wind and approach the man.

His body gives out just as you begin to close the distance between the two of you. You immediately pick up the pace, turning your walk into a jog. You’re able to catch him right before he falls face first into the sand. That was a close one, you think, releasing a breath you weren’t even aware you were holding. You’re able to fully take in the man’s appearance now that he was close enough to hold.

He was unspeakably handsome. As a stylist in the entertainment industry, you’ve seen your fair share of gorgeous celebrities. But all of them paled in comparison to the robust beauty of the man before you. Unblemished olive skin that was smooth to the touch. Silken ebony tresses that you were tempted to run your fingers through. And a God-like physique that had your pulse quickening. What you’d give to caress the rippling muscles of his torso...

Just who in the world was this ethereal alpha? And how was he able to sleep so soundly in the arms of a virtual stranger? The man had even nuzzled his face in between the valley of your breasts as if it was the most natural thing on earth! Oddly enough, you weren’t put off by his actions. In fact, you found them to be endearing. Was this what it was like to form a predestined bond with someone?

You briefly consider texting your friends to get help for the man but decide against it once you start weighing your options. If he was transported to the hospital, there was a chance he would be forcibly separated from you. What’s more, if it was found out that he was the one who caused your false heat, there could be far reaching consequences. You were still being monitored on set, and Jinchul might deem this man to be a threat to you.

He didn’t look to be injured, at least not physically, so you rule out the hospital. You deliberate for a few more minutes before ultimately choosing to wait and bide your time until he regained consciousness.

The two of you remain entangled in this strange embrace as stunning shades of orange, red, and yellow paint the sky. The waves shine incandescently in the sunlight, and you find yourself facing the ocean, distracted by its splendor. After a few minutes, you feel something shifting in your arms.

You return your focus to the man. He’s finally started to stir, groggily raising his head from your chest.  You both lock eyes, your wide-eyed gaze contrasting with his half lidded one. You see his chapped lips open and close, mouthing only one word: 'Omega.'

You feel a shiver run down your spine. Alpha, your inner omega silently preens, instinct taking over.

The man attempts to talk to you again, but you hush him with the gentle press of your index finger to his lips. He obeys right away and makes no further efforts to speak. You had many questions that you wanted to ask, but that could wait for just a little longer. Your alph – no, this alpha, was in desperate need of some water. He looked awfully parched.

You unzip the tote bag you brought with you and sift through its contents before producing a canteen filled with water. You open it and push the lid to his mouth, motioning for him to drink. He follows your orders without a second thought, taking several generous gulps. Rivulets of excess water drip from the corner of his mouth, down his Adam’s apple, and you find yourself getting distracted by his body again. You internally curse as you feel yourself growing wet. You discreetly press your thighs together, hoping to dull the ache building between them.

You fail to notice the flare of the man’s nostrils or his blown-out pupils as he watches your actions from the corner of his eye.

When he’s finally had his fill, you cap your canteen and place it to the side. You then reach into your pocket and pull out your phone. The man shoots you an uneasy look when he sees it in your hand. Was he unfamiliar with mobile devices? You type a quick message in your notebook app and turn the screen towards him.

“I’m going to use my phone to communicate with you because I have a hearing impairment. Is that alright? I just want to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

The boyish look of surprise that crosses his face while he reads doesn’t escape you. He must not have been expecting you to be deaf. You anxiously await his response, unsure of what his reaction will be.

His expression morphs into something akin to barely concealed wonder, and he nods his head. You breathe deep and type away on your phone again. Your next message elaborates on your concerns.

"First, can you tell me if you’re in any pain or if you’re injured? If you are, I can get an ambulance for you. My name is Y/N, by the way.”

His eyes quickly flit over your words. In response, he dips one of his fingers into the wet sand. You’re curious at first, until you start to recognize the shapes that he’s drawing as letters. Why was he writing in the sand? Was he not comfortable with using your phone?

Once finished, his message reads:

“I’m unharmed. I do not need help. Thank you for the water.”

Great, so he wasn’t hurt. Now you can finally focus on getting some damn answers!

You start typing furiously, pouring all your heart into unspoken anger. As soon as you’re finished you nearly slam the mobile device into the man’s face. He blinks owlishly, looking adorably confused by your actions. You don’t know whether you want to slap or kiss him.

“Now that I know you’re okay, can you please answer a few questions for me? Tell me, were you sailing near a large yacht a few weeks ago? There was this scent that day, an alpha’s scent. It smelt incredible. Ever since then, I’ve been trying to find this person. And then I came across you! You have the exact same smell as them! And you’re obviously an alpha yourself since you recognized me as an omega right away.  Please, just tell me who you are! I ended up going into heat because of that alpha, and I feel like I’ve been losing my mind over them!”

The man’s face flickers from shock to guilt as he reads your explosive words. You regret typing them almost immediately when you see the sadness in his steel gray eyes.

He tries to use your phone to write back, but he’s clumsy and ends up swiping his fingers over a bunch of random characters. He huffs and bites his lip, clearly embarrassed. Crap, now you were feeling even worse about unleashing your tirade on him. You’ve always had a temper on you, and it often led to you lashing out and hurting the people you cherished most. And now you had allowed your mounting frustration to get the better of you in front of this poor man. For all you knew, he could be an innocent bystander who was just trying to get some help after becoming overheated.

You had to set things right.

You gently take the phone from the man’s hands, place it in your lap, and cup his cheek. He nervously glances at you, afraid that you’ll still be mad at him. But he’s greeted by your warm smile instead. Reassured, his shoulders relax, and he leans into your touch. After a few moments, you withdraw your hand, eager to continue the conversation. You can’t help but mourn the loss of contact as you resume your typing, however. Your next message reads:

“I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have taken out all my anger on you, especially when you probably don’t have anything to do with this. Please, allow me to start all over again and explain everything to you. Just so I can confirm if you’re the same person I bumped into several days ago. And don’t worry about having to use my phone. I’ve got a pen and a notebook you can write on.”

His eyes take on a hopeful sheen, and you have to force yourself to part from him in order to get to your bag. He really was too charming for his own good, this strange alpha…

That reminds you, you still hadn’t gotten his name!

Once the writing utensils are given to him, he starts scribbling away. His chicken scratch is barely legible, but it was better than nothing. Your handwriting wasn’t necessarily the best either, if you were being honest. He wrote:

“Omega, you are not at fault for anything. I should be the one asking for forgiveness. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most. My name is Sung Jin-woo, an alpha from Jindo-gun. I am the person who was exploring the area around that large boat several nights ago. I became worried when I smelt an omega’s scent. It was you; you were the omega I was seeking that day. I should have shown myself to you sooner. What happened to you after I left? Did any other alphas approach you?"

Sung Jin-woo, huh? It suited him. He had an oddly formal way of writing though, one that clashed with his youthful appearance. This time, you don’t miss the possessiveness in his eyes as he writes that last sentence.

‘Did any other alphas approach you?’

You gulp, reminiscing over the entire ordeal with Kang Taeshik. Should you even tell Jin-woo? By now the problem had been resolved and Taeshik was already fired. There was no reason for you to make Jin-woo feel even worse about causing your heat.

In the end, you choose not to mention Taeshik. He was out of the picture, and you didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

You resume typing in your notebook app, your response stating:

“No, not really. My boss found me on the verge of passing out, though. He’s an alpha so he could tell why I wasn’t feeling well. I was taken to a hospital by my friends since they’re both betas. I had to stay in bed for a week, but as you can already tell I’m alright now. I’m just glad I was finally able to meet you, Jin-woo 😊 You see, I work on that big ship. I’m a makeup artist and hair stylist, and the yacht is the set for a movie that’s being filmed…”

The next few hours pass in companiable silence as you communicate through pen strokes and text messages. Both you and Jin-woo had shared a considerable amount about one another over this time span.

You learn that Jin-woo had grown up on the island, much like you. He lived with his mother and little sister on the outskirts of town and served as the sole provider of the family after his father passed away. When you question what he did for a living, he paused before writing he was a fisherman. This would explain why he was out so early in the morning. The most ideal times to fish were sunset and sunrise. But how had his clothes gotten torn up like that? When you asked, he merely answered that he fell off his boat and had almost gotten swept up in the propellor. Apparently, his shirt and pants had been destroyed by the turning of the blades. You were incredulous at first, given just how dangerous that sounded, but Jin-woo had a way of selling you with his words. You eventually found yourself believing him despite your previous skepticism. He must have also been fishing that night two weeks ago.

Jin-woo had asked you many questions as well. He seemed particularly concerned about your heat cycle. When you disclosed the cause of it was your compatibility with him, his entire body tensed. Jin-woo’s hands then started to shake and you took one of them in your own to calm him. He glances at you, and you’re taken aback by the fire in his eyes. For the briefest of moments, you fear that you might’ve revealed something you shouldn’t have. Before you can compose an apology, Jin-woo releases your hand, picks up his pen, and starts writing again. Once finished, he gives you the notebook with an expression of apprehension on his face.

“Is this something you’re comfortable with? Now that we’ve met, I’m really interested in getting to know you more. But how do you feel about me? Do you want to continue this conversation? I understand if you’d want me to leave after everything you were forced to endure.”

How did you feel about him?

You mull over all that’s occurred since returning to your hometown. You had never expected to encounter so many trials and tribulations. By all accounts, you had every right to cease any further contact with Jin-woo. But you were undeniably intrigued by him. He had been nothing but respectful of your boundaries, and you found yourself being drawn in by his earnest personality. If nothing else came from this meeting between the two of you, then at least you could become friends.

You type an honest response and wait on bated breath as he reads it:

“I’m not sure how I feel about us right now. Honestly, I don’t believe in things like destiny or fate when it comes to finding a soulmate. But I do want to continue seeing you. I also would like to learn more about you as a person. Maybe we can take things slow and figure it out from there. What do you say, Jin-woo😉?”

All the anxiety seems to melt away from Jin-woo’s face. A cute grin tugs at his lips, lighting his darkened visage.

His answer is succinct:

“I’d really like that, Y/N.”

Your heart skips a beat. That was the first time he used your name.

A small part of you starts to wonder if the two of you really are fated to be together. Cheesy as it sounds, you were more than willing to take a chance on this budding relationship with Jin-woo.

Little did you know this meeting would set in motion a series of tragic events that would shatter countless lives and forever leave a stain on the island’s reputation.

🔱 To be continued...

Tag list 1:

🪼 @the-dumber-scaramouche @ghostdoodlen @skylar896 @phisen @eliciana

Tag list 2:

🐬 @asylrd @mochinon-yah

[youaintnothinbuta]

“I’m right here.” — feyd rautha x reader

Summary: you get injured while combat training and Feyd kills your instructor for causing it

Pairing: feyd rautha x fem!reader

Word count: 884

Warnings: Feyd fluff. Graphic violence, killing, blood, stab wounds depicted, probably typos

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You stood in the training grounds, sweat dripping down your forehead as you faced your instructor. Ever since marrying Feyd, you had been keen on improving your combat skills. You were a good fighter already, but Rabban had laughed at you once, calling you a fair fighter. That stuck with you. You didn’t want your fights to be fair. You wanted to be ruthless and brutal like the Harkonnen were known for. Feyd insisted that you did not need improve and that he would never let you be caught in a situation where you’d ever need to employ your already strong combat skills. Feyd as a husband though, was incredibly doting and indulgent, and whatever his wife wanted, he made sure his wife got.

Your fighting instructor was one of the (particularly stern) Harkonnen wards. Feyd liked to attend your training sessions whenever he could. He watched from the sidelines, two of his subordinates either side of him, his arms crossed over his chest as he observed your every move. He monitored your progress, but more importantly, was there also in case anything happened to you.

“Again,” the instructor barked, lifting his dagger to strike.

You ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding the blow. Your heart raced as you lunged at him, your own blade flashing in the sunlight. The Harkonnens were known for their ruthless fighting style, and you couldn't afford to be caught off guard.

You parried his attack, the clang of metal ringing out in the arena. The dance of combat ensued, each strike and parry leaving Feyd impressed. As you sparred, you felt a sharp pain in your side. A piercing shriek rang from your lips, you cried as you reeled over in pain, the sound echoing off the walls of the arena as you stumbled to the ground. Feyd was by your side in an instant, getting you onto your back, cradling your head in his lap. You screamed and cried, your vision swimming with tears as you fought to stay conscious.

“Just breathe,” he murmured in between your screeching, “just breathe.”

The sound of your cry, especially one of pain, was the worst sound he could ever be subjected too. Like how a mother reacts to her baby’s cry, it was horrid, not because of your voice, but because he felt this unyielding compulsion to put an end to its cause in an instant.

He had one hand at the top of your head, holding it steady against his thighs. The other hand, he had firmly gripped on your chin, holding your head so you wouldn’t catch a glimpse of your wound, your vision pointed directly up at his face. Feyd knew that your injury was not that deep, nor in a fatal position. He knew he wouldn’t have made so much of a peep if he received the same one. If you were his student he would have punished you for reacting to your wound. That was irrelevant, though. He didn’t need you to be as good of a fighter as him. He just needed you to be okay.

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to catch your breath. The pain was intense, like a searing hot knife cutting through your flesh. You could feel the warmth of your own blood seeping through your training clothes.

As the sound of hurried footsteps of medics and doctors approached, Feyd's demeanor shifted, his gaze hardening into steel.

"You are okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible, “I’m right here.”

He rose to his feet, his movements fluid and purposeful as he approached your instructor with a rumbling snarl.

"Women are not fighters," he spat as Feyd approached him.

“You commit treason,” Feyd growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "You are weak."

With a swift motion, Feyd drew his blade, the metal glinting ominously in the light. Before anyone could react, Feyd struck, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Blood sprayed across the arena as the instructor's throat was slit open, a gurgled scream escaping his lips before he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Feyd stood over the instructor's lifeless body, his blade still in hand. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of fear in them. But then it was gone, replaced by a fierce determination.

“You will heal quickly, you are strong. I will protect you,” he said, his voice fierce.

And you knew he meant it. Feyd Rautha, the Harkonnen heir, had just killed one of his own to protect you. You had been cut free of your clothing, your wound was tended to, cleaned and stitched up and injected with pain killers in a matter of minutes, exactly the way the Harkonnen medics were trained to do. Feyd watched over as they did so. You could feel his hand on yours, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin.

“I'm here,” he murmured. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. He shook his head, arguing your apology.

Feyd was right, you did heal quickly. With his care and the help of healing baths, despite them being slightly disgusting. Feyd also made the decision that when you had healed, he would be your mentor, as he no longer trusted any of his wards to be.

[zomtart]

Unknown (Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Hey y’all! So one of my favorite things to do writing wise is pick one of my favorite songs, listen to it on repeat, and write a fic to it lmao. So here’s that with Matt Murdock and my favorite song of all time, Unknown/Nth by Hozier. All writing is mine but of course the italized words are lyrics from Unknown/Nth, which belongs to the one and only Hozier (and Matt Murdock and co belongs to Marvel) <3 

I’m so sorry for the ending this was not supposed to end angsty but I had a prophetic vision I had to listen to it

Warnings: religious imagery to describe love, canon typical injuries/violence, death

Word Count: 1.2k

It ain’t the being alone

It ain’t the empty home, baby

You know I’m good on my own

You know, it’s more the being unknown

Sometimes, you terrified him.

You would say something, or do something, and he felt so…seen. Naked, stripped of any mask that protected him. You would never lay a hand on him, he knew that, but it didn’t make it any less horrifying. The fact that you could reach past any suit of armor, beat him to any punch, because you knew him. Sometimes it felt like you knew him even better than he knew himself. You saw past his attempts to push people away, to act cold and be alone. He’d try, time and time again, to convince both of you that he was better off by himself. It never worked. You weren’t scared away, and you had a way of making Matt feel like he…deserved to be in the company of you. To not be some anonymous figure drifting through the city. 

It was a shitty morning. It was too cold outside, numbing the edges of his fingers and the tips of his ears. He could feel the blood rushing to his nose, his body’s futile attempts to keep him warm. He was so cold he almost missed the scent of freshly brewed coffee coming from the office.

“Morning,” you said nonchalantly, gently taking his left hand and wrapping it around what he knew was a coffee cup. He felt frozen in place, but forced his mind to blame it on the weather. He could already smell it, but he took a sip before commenting.

“Peppermint mocha?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You hummed in response, already looking over the new papers on your desk.

“How’d you know?”

You just laughed a little, taking a sip of your own drink. “We’ve gotten coffee before, Matthew. My memory isn’t that terrible.”

It wasn’t the fact that you said his full name. It was how you said it. Softly and…reverantly. He’d compare it to a prayer, but it was more holy than that.

He murmured a thanks and tried to relax. Wow, he felt like it was losing it, and for what? Because you knew his coffee order? The four of you have gotten coffee together before for company meetings. You probably remembered Karen and Foggy’s order just the same. It meant nothing.

~

You called me “angel” for the first time, my heart leapt from me

You smile now, I can see it’s pieces still stuck in your teeth

And what’s left of it, I listen to it tick

Every tedious beat

When you discovered he was Daredevil, he expected a lot of things. Confusion. Betrayal. Anger, most of all. He never expected you to…laugh.

He was exhausted. Far too exhausted to do anything but stumble into his apartment, not realizing you had snuck in to surprise him for his birthday. It was a bit past midnight and you stood in his living room with a cake, confused at his absence. You were about to call Foggy to make sure he was okay when he stumbled in with a broken nose and too many bruises to count. You shrieked and dropped the cake, rushing to grab the knife on the counter to defend yourself against…

“...Matt?” you said incredously, setting the knife down and inching forward. He was in too much pain to realize the consequences of what ensued, and he could only let it happen, limping to the couch before he collapsed on top of it. 

You set the knife down and ran to kneel in front of him. You looked him over, at all his injuries and the way his exhausted eyelids drooped downwards. 

“You stupid man…” you whispered, cradling his face upwards, drops of his blood sinking into your palm. “You…you’re…”

“Halloween costume.” he managed, and you laughed, a watery, broken, sound that echoed throughout the apartment he lived alone in. 

You shook your head. “T-the Devil doesn’t take breaks? Even on his birthday?”

“Heard someone…they needed help.”

“You’re blind.” you whispered, looking back to his sightless eyes to confirm. “How…?”

He didn’t answer, just leaned into your hand that still held onto his jaw. After a moment his nose twitched. “Did you..get me cake?”

“Yeah. Happy birthday.” you said quietly with another laugh. The sound was like a balm to his wounds. It was better than any gift he could have asked for. “How did you know?” “It’s a…a lot to explain. We’d be here all night.”

“Don’t tempt me, angel.” you winked. Then you simply got up and left to get a first aid kit, as if you hadn’t left his heart beating out of his chest. 

That night, you didn’t ask anymore questions. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was so beat up, or because you were in shock, or because of what day it was. You bandaged him up and got him to bed. When you were satisfied with the amount of blankets he had you lit a single candle and sang Happy Birthday. Your soft voice was slightly off-tune, and the melody was occasionally interrupted with little laughs by the both of you, but to him it was perfect.

It meant everything. 

~

There are some people, love, who are better unknown. 

He had learned to regret that night. In hindsight, he should have known. He should have known that letting you find out his true identity would put you at risk. He should have known he wasn’t able to protect you, wasn’t able to protect anyone who got close to him. He had put on the suit to help people, but he knew now it only made him an omen. If the Devil was near, death would ensue. 

He should have known.

He should have heard the gun reloading and your footsteps pounding to jump in front of him. He should have never let you be there in the first place. You were dead, and the beating of his fists against your murderer could do nothing to bring you back. He killed for the first time that night, and he was all too aware of the irony. The person who knew him best was gone, and if she weren’t she would not even recognize him.

[three--rings]

You Should Watch The Spirealm/致命游戏

What is it?

A 2024 cdrama based on the danmei webnovel Kaleidoscope of Death. It's a censored version of a BL novel, with thriller, mystery, and horror aspects, 38 45-minute episodes.

What's it about?

A young man accidentally gets drawn into a virtual reality video game that involves passing tests in a series of doors. Once you start playing, you cannot stop and if you die in the game, you die in real life. He meets a frustratingly mysterious, competent, and attractive man in the doors who recruits him to be part of his game solving team. Well, specifically to be his partner. Lots of gay subtext ensues as they fight through door after door seeking to get to the final door in order to end the evils of the game. (The book is a little different, as it's more supernatural.)

So basically it's a infinite flow deadly game situation, with m/m romance.

Main Characters:

Lin Quishi/Ling Juishi (novel/drama versions of his name)- Our protagonist. A smart graduate in computer science, good at games. Well meaning but a little naive to start out.

Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Lanzhu - Our love interest. In the novel he crossdresses often and he presents as a woman for the whole first arc. Super intelligent, expert at the game, extremely flirty but reserved at the same time. Got one look at Lin Quishi and said That One.

Other Characters, aka the Found Family:

Ruan Nanzhu's team consists of a pair of twin brothers (one young and dumb and one uptight), a hot doctor vet, a woman whose main job seems to be cooking dinner, and a not-so-stable dude.

Then there's Li Dong Yuan, a rival player who becomes reluctantly-tolerated friend, and his cute female assistant. And Tan Zao Zao, an actress who hires the team to help her in the games and also sticks around persistently.

They're pretty much all delightful and some may start off silly/annoying and end up breaking the hell out of your heart.

Okay, but what's the VIBE?

Big Guardian vibes. The team of lovable scamps investigating weird supernatural (?) type mysteries? While the boss and the guy he fell for have a situationship? Totally. This definitely has more of a horror feel than Guardian, though, even though they tone things down from the novel.

Each door is its own setting, and some are more scary than others. So one is a mental hospital, one is a traditional village, one is a gothic manor, etc. Lots of tragic female ghosts who have been wronged and are getting revenge. The one that really creeped me out was the one with the children with the eggs. It does a lot of creepy rather than really horror. It's not truly gory at all, as it was made to air on Chinese TV and they have strict limits to violence.

The camerawork and set decor is really nice, actually. It looks great most of the time and a lot of the effects seem to be practical. It looks a lot better than Guardian is what I'm saying, if not quite to a film level.

How Gay is It?

Oh MY GOD. Okay look, this show was NOT supposed to be released, but thank whoever put it up for that two hours. It's really incredibly blatant, like really as much as Word of Honor was, although because the plot is focused elsewhere it's maybe not quite as in your face. But the actors UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT and there's so much longing and SO much implication. After a while, everyone basically just treats the main couple as a couple even thought it's never talked about.

I mean episode one there's Only One Bed and at the end of their first meeting Ruan Nanzhu gives Lin Quishi a RING. I mean, the flirting is also BLATANT. I also just find this a really romantic show, despite the Not Talking About It thing.

Is it a Happy Ending?

So, It's Complicated. I'm trying not to spoil anything and this show is pretty easy to have spoiled for you. There's definitely a good bit of tragedy in this show in general. Characters die and it's really sad. Like, this is a plot with stakes and if no one we liked ever died, it wouldn't be the same.

I will say I consider this show to have a happy ending, but you do go through some pain first. Essentially the main couple does have a separation, but there is a reunion before the end. There's also a scene that will give Guardian fans fucking PTSD, but the show does a fix-it on its own, okay? I do feel that I have to warn for that, though.

Where can I watch it?

The show is legally available on Viki with a subscription. Obviously there are other ways to find it as well, and links went around before it was picked up by Viki so check tags if you need those.

I really hope this encourages some people to watch this show, as it's really well made and a great time. It's one of a very small number of danmei adaptations we've gotten, but a lot less people have watched it since it's modern and had a weird release. Honestly, it's well written and acted and filmed and you should give it a shot.

(All gifs by @ruanbaijie, thank you very much for allowing me to use them. Check out their blog, there's such gorgeous stuff there!)

[johnwickb1tsch]

Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine Part 1 by @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake and @johnwickb1tsch GIF credits to @scarlettspectra ❤

What unholy fuckery is this, you ask? It's a round robin fic! And we're consolidating our parts here for your reading pleasure...

Summary: Imagine you're a witness in a high profile FBI case against the mafia and hitmen John Wick and Tex Johnson are competing for the contract on you. After some serious fighting and car chases in the end they just decide to fake your death and keep you for themselves...🤫 Original Post

Warnings: So many dead doves! Don't eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

johnwickb1tsch:

In the beginning Tex plays with you, chatting you up in the local diner of the po-dunk town witness protection has stashed you in. You're so cute, he just can't help himself. He peppers you with "darlin's" and sly winks and usually you would tell someone hitting on you like this to fuck off, but... You can tell he's a little wild but he's so heart-stoppingly handsome and there's something infectious in the devil-may-care way he smiles at you with a mischievous glitter in his dark eyes. That down-home accent does things to you that shouldn't be mentioned in polite company. You actually like him, so it's an EXTRA shock when it turns out he's there to kill you...

treedaddymcpuffpuff: And you’re just so sweet and cute and funny and fiery - just his type. And he’s just gonna make it quick and painless at first, but then you’re so entertaining that he wants to fuck with you for a while. Maybe even fuck you before he puts a bullet in your smart little head. John Wick just flat out wants to kill you as soon as possible. Get it over with. At least at first. But, he’s John Wick, let’s be for real. And you’re just an innocent bystander who saw too much (and you volunteer at the local animal shelter and you always give out money to homeless people and you’re just an all around sweetheart, damn you), so John is gonna decide to say fuck his task (big shocker) and save you from Tex instead.

johnwickb1tsch:

You are incredibly lonely and bored in the little town you’ve been stuck in. You usually keep to yourself, as per your FBI handler’s warnings. But you’re having such a good time, when Tex asks if you want to go for a ride in his incredibly hot vintage muscle car…you ignore every bit of good sense you have left to your name, and agree. He thinks this is hilarious, of course. And…kind of endearing. Here you are, just eatin’ out of the palm of his hand like he’s not some kind of monster.

So…you go for a ride, and you don’t get too alarmed when Tex heads out of town. He can’t show off what this baby can do in the city limits, after all… But when there’s an explosion, the front tire going flat, and you have to pull over in the middle of nowhere, you start to get worried. When Tex gets out to see the tire’s been shot out…and he pulls a gun, looking around—you start to realize you made a HUGE fucking mistake. You get out of the car, thinking this would be a great time to go elsewhere. He tries to grab you, but you knee him in the crotch! 👈 @treedaddymcpuffpuff 🤭

Just your luck, here comes another vehicle speeding down the road. Wow, there are a lot of muscle cars on the road today. This one is dark gray, with black racing stripes. You try to flag him down—but change your mind when a hand extends out the window holding a gun, and he opens fire on Tex. You, understandably, duck for cover while screaming as the firefight ensues around you. Then suddenly strong hands are grabbing you up—and throwing you in the trunk... Dun dun dun! 😈🤣

sweetwolfcupcake: Now, that's a shitty situation. That's all you can think before you begin to scream for help. But who would be there in an isolated road, ready to go against two armed men? You can barely see the man shoving you into the trunk when another round of fire starts. The man backs off to pull his gun back, but that is enough time for you to slip put. Staggering on your feet. To your relief, it is tge familiar car. Your FBI handler! "Oh God, oh God!" You cry out in tears of part relief and part terror. How could you be so stupid? Following a stranger into his car?

treedaddymcpuffpuff:

Ah, your FBI case handler. He’s a tough guy. Trustworthy. Scrappy. You know he’ll protect you even though you really hate being a damsel in distress because fuck that trope. Except mystery man (JOHNNY BOY) shoots him in the kneecap faster than FBI man can blink or say “mercy”.

And then Tex grabs you and points a loaded Glock at your head, grinning that shark toothed grin that not too long ago was making you giggle like a schoolgirl. And now it’s just making you hyperventilate and practically piss yourself in fear.

And here you are, the bargaining chip in a game of who dies first with three grown men fighting over you.

Johnwickb1tsch: “Well well. Ain’t this a sticky situation?” calls out Tex, taking cover behind his car, an arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders with that fucking gun to your head. The barrel digs into your temple painfully. “Asshole,” you growl under your breath. At a volume just for you he says, “Now, now, darlin’, don’t be sore.” “I actually liked you.” “I like you too. But your pretty head is worth a fuck ton o’ dinero. It’s a shame, sweetheart, but it ain’t lookin’ good for you.” Tears start streaming down your cheeks as the hopelessness of the situation really settles down on you. “Then why don’t you just shoot me now?” “That’s a helluva suggestion. You’re not very good at this game, are you?” “It’s not a game, you bastard.” “Sure it is.” Then in a louder voice he calls out, “Hey, John! Been a long time.” There’s a long pause before you hear from the other side of the dark muscle car, “Yeah.” “Whattya say we split the bounty, call it even stevens?” “I don’t want the girl dead.” This actually, if not stupidly, inspires some hope in you. But then if he was here to rescue you…why did he shoot your FBI agent? Tex actually laughs about this. The feeling of his broad chest moving behind you is…distracting. “Now that’s interesting! How do you propose we go about that?” “I kill you both and take her with me,” is this John’s deadpan response. He sounds so…certain that he can accomplish this. It’s kind of hot, if you’re being honest. You like the part about you not being dead, but the rest… “Hey now, that’s not nice,” answers Tex, and you can tell he’s smiling as he says it. “And you forget about this big ol’ gun I got pressed to her head.” “If you kill her, I’m going to kill you.” “Anyone ever tell you you’re a one trick pony, John?” “Yeah.” “How bout this. For old time’s sakes. Remember how it was that time in Tijuana?” “I was extremely drunk.” Tex chuckles at this, some fond old memory, and your heart is slowly sinking little by little all the way to your feet. “Well, I seem to remember you don’t mind sharing. I could live with that.” The silence on this deserted road stretches on as John considers this. “And after? The girl lives?” “Sure, sure. We fake her death, take the money. She can go her way, and we go ours.” “We’ll have to kill Dmitri Nobokov.” “He’s an asshole anyway.”    “Deal.” You are shocked when Tex releases you so suddenly you fall into a pile on the ground. What the fuck were they even talking about?? Sharing…you??! Moving in tandem, you watch as the two dangerous men close in on Agent Bradford. You hear shots, and you fear the worst. In the end you find yourself sitting on the ground, quivering like a terrified lump of jell-0, with two tall, stupidly handsome, mafia assassins looming over you. “Are you guys…brothers, or something?” Frowning, they look at each other. Tex in his denim and John in his smart black suit.  “What?” “No.” They reach down for you, and you find yourself locked in the trunk, again.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You don’t see the need for the rope binding your wrists behind your back, or the tether on the ankles. Overkill, much?

Maybe they think you actually pose a challenge? Well, that’s nice of them, but even you’re not blimp-headed enough to think you can take on two taller, bigger, combat ready men. Plus, Tex lifted you like you were a goddamn sack of pillow stuffing.

You’re more convinced by the minute this is all just meant to humiliate you - the bondage, the trunk, the fucking slinging you over a shoulder and making casual conversation about how they’re going to pull off your death. 

Which makes you seethe because you didn’t fucking do anything. And, poor Bradford, with the family and the kids.. well, probably, you don’t actually know about his personals. That doesn’t change the fact he was a living, breathing human - once - who was just trying to keep you safe. 

You have to do something, so you don’t make it easy for them - you kick, squirm, bite. You get a big chunk of the nameless one’s hand in your mouth and latch on like a little boa, and he doesn’t even seem bothered. He just sighs, pinches your nose shut until you have to let go. 

“Now, darlin’,” Tex coos, too close to your ear for comfort, “we gotta gag you, too?” 

“I hate you,” you spit. 

Tex sifts the prickly rope through his hands, fast, big fingers way too agile, snaps it taut, chuckles like he was hoping you’d say something bitchy. And watching that debauched show should have not made your insides give an abrupt, furious clench. But it just does. 

“Guess that’s a yes,” he sighs. 

Johnwickb1tsch:

When the blade comes out is when you really start to panic. They debated for what felt like hours about what was the best way to drain your fucking blood. Something about staging your death, burning Agent Bradford's body in his car, leaving some of your blood and hair at the scene.

Jesus fucking christ, how has your life come to this?

When you feel Tex's rough hand on your arm, inspecting your anatomy for a vein, you start to cry. You couldn't be more surprised, than when you feel a soft touch in your cheek. "Hey, it's going to be alright. We just need a little." It's the intense one. John. He doesnt say much, but you get the feeling he could burn down the world with that anthracite gaze.

 Still, you whimper when you feel the cool blade on your skin. "Don't hurt her," warns John, his voice not so gentle for Tex, filled with warning.

 "I'm not," insists the one behind you. You feel a sting, but somehow, he was telling the truth. You feel the warm drip of your blood oozing down your arm. They're catching it in a 7-11 cup. How...decorous.

"Really, you should be thanking us," drawls Tex. "We saved your life."

Your exclamation of "Are you fucking kidding me?" is muffled by the scratchy rope in your mouth.

Tex gets it though, and grins. "That's right. It was an open contract, darlin'. If we didn't find you, someone else would have. Someone not so nice."

John tilts his head slightly in agreement.

 "How did you find out where the Federal Bureau of Incompetence was keepin' her, Wick?"

 "A mole." It's the only shred of hope you have.

"What a coincidence."

 Bradford was a good man. You at least know it wasn't him.

Even though you're tied up, you are so relieved when they finally go. However, it seems like they're not gone long before they return to the secluded hideout. They are not happy. Apparently, Bradford's body was gone from the scene. He could still be out there, looking for you.

sweetwolfcupcake: Hope flared within you, and it might have shown, unfortunately. You felt fingers grab your chin-- firm, not painful(for now). "Don't be so quick to sigh. Finding him is a child's play for us. And then we kill him." Tex' cold stare greeted her. Though a biting reply remained at the tip of your tongue, you knew better than to piss them off. Your life was still in their hands, after all. "I have made the arrangements." The other man approached them, he was on call for a while. He glanced at you and sighed. His eyes found Tex before he nodded. You frowned as your mind raced with possibilities, but it was only for a moment before you felt a sharp, sudden pain at the back of your head and your eyes rolled back. "You were supposed to go for the vein, not hit her!" John hissed, cradling your lolled head in his hands. " Remind me next time." Tex rolled his eyes, no sign of remorse visible. With his jaws tensed, John let your head rest and got to work. There were a lot of things to take care of-- faking your death, for example.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

 When they go, they don’t even give you hope of escape - they bind you tight to a cushiony blue chair with wooden legs and arms, expertly looping ropes around and across. It would be really hot, how they move together flawlessly and work the rope like it’s a good friend, if they weren’t making sure you couldn’t move a damn inch in the process. Oh, who are you kidding? Despite your rage and fear and sorrow, your panties are still completely soaked watching big hands and bulging veins and sinew and tendon.

And now you’re highly uncomfortable, trying to squirm and getting absolutely nowhere. You’re trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey, and then they leave. Just fucking leave. How. Dare. They.

When they get back, you’ve got drool running down and soaking your shirt, neck and chin. You’re sweaty, disheveled, uncomfortable. Despite being left to your sparse devices, the arousal has just gotten worse. Because you’ve been alone with your imagination - which has been preoccupied with two very beautiful men - and you’re fucking aching. Seeing them again makes it so much worse… are they laughing, getting along? Some inside joke. Fucking rat bastards

And they’re touching you and examining you and talking about you like you are the actual thanksgiving turkey. Unconsciousness actually feels like a great relief. It’s probably the best thing that’s happened so far.

John cuts your hair and takes some skin from a place that will heal quickly. They untie you, put your limp body back in the trunk - John does this, too, being very gentle with you, carrying you bridal style instead of over his shoulder like some caveman. He checks your pulse, makes sure your oxygenation is okay, and then does what Tex should have and injects your vein with a heavy sedative to keep you knocked.

“Ya know, I kinda liked her better when she was alive and biting the shit out of you,” Tex muses as he and John slide into the car. “She’s cute, huh? Kinda tight, just needs loosened up a little bit.” Tex raises a suggestive eyebrow and John glares him down.

“Lighten up, addle-pot,” Tex replies to John’s heavy silence.

sweetwolfcupcake: The sensation of the jerking increased along with the pain at the back of her head. It hurt. The throbbing continued as she gulped-- her throat burned. The discomfort urged her to open her heavy eyes faster. Her vision was hazy but she could make out the interiors of a car. She blinked slowly. They were silent, except for occasional whispered comments from Tex and one-word answers from the other man who looked exactly like Tex but had a distinct aura, some kind of energy that sent chills down her spine. It was like being in the presence of a dangerous creature with barely contained primitiveness. He looked more refined and spoke with a tone and way that suggested quality. And yet...and yet something in the back of her mind would be ready for a fight or flight response in his presence. If anything, he had been comparatively nicer to her. Tex was a jerk in every annoying sense-- but she could dare to have a verbal spat with Tex, and give him a fitting reply. The other man though... She had not realized that she had been starring at them until a hand reached out for her from the front seat. "She's awake." A voice gently declared. Fingers touched her cheeks gently and she knew that it was the other man. Even with swimming sight, she could tell that the car was speeding through and the other man's gaze was set on her form laying on the backseat. Only if... Only if she had been smarter, and not blindly trusted a stranger--- she wouldn't be in this mess, Bradford was her only hope now, he had proven his capabilities to her time and again and she knew that he was out there, trying to track her down. She only hoped that he was well, alive, and he knew that she was alive as well.

tbc...

[sapphire-writes]

Hi! I see that the request are open so I have an idea for you! ( if you don’t like it feel free to ignore this!) Aemond and reader who is daughter of rhaenyra are friends since they were children and also love each other, but always caught in the middle of their family problems, when storms end happens she is there with Luke and reader tries to help Luke by distracting aemond and vaghar with her dragon, but things get out of hand and their dragons stop obeying, and instead of vaghar eating luke she hurts the dragon and burn the reader, but what aemond does not know is that reader can’t be burned ( like danny) sorry if is too long!

A/N: This is a great request! Though I'm open to anything, I do love writing about childhood moments/childhood friends 🥺 Hope you enjoy 💚

Unburnt ~ Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: descriptions of violence, blood

Where your family travels, trouble seems to follow. 

Though you were fond of your uncle Aemond, Jacaerys and Lucerys were not. Tensions grew whenever they were together. You supposed it must be due to training by the sword together, something you were not allowed to participate in.

Though once, Aemond had helped you hide your dark hair within a cap to pose as Luke (Ser Criston was not fooled, and sent you on your way).

You found yourself constantly being the defender, either of Aemond or your brothers. When your Uncle Aegon and brothers presented Aemond with the pink dread you felt hot with anger. 

“That was incredibly cruel,” you had scolded Jace and Luke, causing the younger to shy away from the gaze of his elder sister. Jace held your gaze, mouth in a tight frown. He never understood your unwavering loyalty to the silver prince.

Driftmark had been a different story. You knew Aemond longed for a dragon; you couldn’t imagine not being bonded with one. Your dragon Pyraxes had been bonded to you since you shared a cradle with her. 

Baela and Rhaena had burst into the room, claiming someone had stolen Vhagar. You followed your brothers to confront the thief. 

“It’s him!”

“It's me.”

 Fighting ensues, punches are thrown, and blood sprays the sand beneath your feet. You try to insert yourself between your kin, arms blocking Aemond. The fight is not fair. There is only screaming and punching, you blindly push Baela and Rhaena. Jace pulls you from Aemond as your uncle holds a rock to Luke. 

“Bastards,” Aemond hisses, and your stomach drops. Jace pulls a knife.

Your eyes are well with tears, and you don’t know what to do. It’s Luke, it’s your brother whom you need to protect. You claw at Aemond, begging him to release him, tears streaming down your face. Aemond’s expression is pained, but he does, letting Luke drop to the floor. 

Sand is thrown, the knife catches the light of a candle, and more blood sprays to the floor along with the crumpled form of Aemond Targaryen. A pained scream cuts through the air as you rush to Aemond’s side. 

“I only wish to see him,” you beg Queen Alicent, who gives you a look of such malcontent you feel you may shrivel and perish under her gaze. Aemond is receiving no one. You had been told as much but you are a stubborn child. Ser Criston escorts you from the room. The memory you will hold of your uncle for several years is soaked in blood.

Though you did not say your goodbyes in person, you and Aemond continue to write to one another. The distance between King’s Landing and Dragonstone is not far and ravens travel quickly. You bond over shared stories, the histories, and philosophies you both love to study. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You cannot help but feel excited to see him when the succession of Driftmark is challenged. The first time you see Aemond in years, you feel your stomach quiver with nerves. He is in the training yard, dueling with Ser Criston. You stand next to Jace and Luke and cannot hide your smile. Jace takes notice and scoffs disapprovingly. 

“Nephews,” Aemond says, catching his breath. His eye finds you. “Niece.”

He lowers his sword.

“Come to train?”

The tension in the air is thick. You step forward, bridging the space between both sides of your family. 

“Is there finally room for me to train?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. Ser Criston wipes the sweat from his brow. 

“I am afraid not, princess,” he informs you, “the Queen would not be pleased.”

Though his tone is polite, there is no sympathy in the words. You purse your lips in disappointment. 

“Ah yes.. I wonder, Uncle, if you would be so kind as to show me the library? It must have been greatly updated since I have seen it last,” you ask, smiling sweetly. Aemond sheaths his sword. 

“Of course,” he says, offering his arm. You loop your arm through his, eagerly leading him from the training yard. 

“I have missed you,” you tell him earnestly, a pink blush dusting the top of your cheeks.

“Hm,” Aemond says in response, a smile making its way onto his face. He attempts to keep his pulse at a reasonable pace, but he cannot help himself from staring at you, trying to memorize your face after years of not seeing you. You bump him playfully.

“I suppose I have missed you as well,” he teases, leading you into the castle. You spend the rest of the afternoon and late into the evening together. Only when the candles are spent do you finally tear yourselves away from each other, retiring to your chambers. 

Your grandsire insists on dinner together with the whole family. You sit next to Luke, taking generous sips from your cup of wine, trying to ease your nerves. Your mother gives you a small smile. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“If you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, you know where to find me,” Aegon whispers to Baela, pouring a drink, “the offer extends to you as well, niece.” Your stomach lurches, but you attempt to brush Aegon’s comment off, rolling your eyes. 

Both Jace and Aemond rise from their seats at Aegon’s comment, as you take a sip from your cup. As toasts are made and your grandsire is escorted from the hall, tensions rise again. 

You flinch as Aemond makes a toast, the word strong lingering in the air. He freely calls your brothers bastards, and you by default. Your features match Jace and Luke. 

You stand as Jace punches Aemond, who only smirks in response pushing your brother to the floor. 

“Really?” you say to Aemond, exasperated by the constant fighting. You pry Aegon’s fingers from Luke’s neck, pushing him away from your younger sibling. The evening has turned sour, quickly.

“I fear you are destined to leave me,” Aemond murmurs. You smile sadly, dressed in your riding leathers prepared to saddle Pyraxes in the dragonpit. 

“Mother intends to return,” you tell him, “I am not a child anymore. Let me see my siblings to Dragonstone and then I shall join her, on dragonback. She shall need someone here with her.”

Aemond smiles at you, admiring the soft look on your face. 

“I would greatly enjoy that,” he admits. He thought often of proposing to his mother a marriage between himself and you, to ease the tensions between the blacks and the greens. Aemond entertained the idea of you as his wife often. You plagued every thought he had, every dream. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The promise of war looms. You follow Luke to Storm’s End on Pyraxes at your mother’s request. The rain pours as you land in the courtyard, easing off of your mount. Lightning fills the sky, and thunder booms shaking the ground you stand on. 

Not thunder, but a roar, you realize, eyes widening as Vhagar rears her head from the distance. 

Aemond has beaten you there. 

You enter the Round Hall and cannot take your eyes from Aemond, who stands next to one of Lord Borros’ daughters. The prettiest one, your mind taunts. A bitter taste gathers in your mouth as Lord Borros explains the betrothal. 

Aemond studies your expression, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. 

“I am not free to marry, my lord,” Luke explains. Aemond’s smirk grows, triumphantly. Your cheeks redden with your fury.

“Go home pups,” Lord Borros calls, and you clasp Luke’s shoulder turning to leave from the hall.

“Wait, niece,” he calls, causing you to turn, “my lord Strong. You really think you could fly about the realm, trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”

“The usurper’s crown, you mean,” you hiss, your anger slipping through. Aemond’s functioning eye narrows. 

“I will not fight you. We came as messengers, not warriors.” Luke says, chin held high.

“Fight would be a little challenge. No, I want you to put out your eye,” Aemond says, removing his eye patch and revealing his sapphire eye. 

“As payment for mine. One would serve,” he continues, throwing his dagger towards you and Luke. The blade clatters against the stone floor. “I would not blind you. Plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”

“No,” Luke says, eyes wide with fear. You can feel him trembling beside you.

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor,” Aemond says, a mad glint in his eye. 

You step forward in front of Luke, arms wide.

“Not here.” Lord Borros insists. 

“Give me your eye or I will take it, bastard!” Aemond says, running forward. You make a dash towards the dagger on the floor, picking up the blade and pointing it at your uncle. A wild look appears in his eye, as though he is delighted by the violence.

“You go too far, uncle!” you snap. Aemond stalks towards you. You glance behind you, jerking your head to signal Luke should retreat.

As you turn, Aemond is face to face with you, the blade pushing into his chest. He looks down at you, at the weapon between you. You feel your bottom lip begin to tremble.

“Would you kill me, niece?” he asks, his voice a soft caress as though addressing a lover, not an enemy. 

“You insult my brothers so freely, yet have always spared me from your vile insults. Why is that uncle? My blood runs the same as theirs,” you spit. You need to distract him. You need to allow Luke to enter the skies. 

Aemond’s mouth twitches. 

“The only traitor I see here is you,” you say, and as the words leave your mouth, Aemond wraps his hand around your wrist. He pushes the dragger towards the sky with ease, pressing his body into you. You can feel the warmth of him against you, his breath fans your face. 

“You play with fire, niece,” he tells you, lip curled in a snarl. You bare your teeth in response. 

“Fire is no threat to a dragon.”

“Enough!” Lord Borros calls, “not in my hall! Escort the princess back to her dragon.”

Aemond releases you, though he seems reluctant to do so. He looks behind you and lets out a frustrated growl. Lucerys has left. You smile triumphantly before leaving the hall. 

Pryraxes waits for you, Arrax has already taken to the skies. No sooner do you mount, you notice Vhagar has disappeared. The rain is pouring and your heart quickens. Find Luke, you think to yourself. Find Luke and bring you both home. 

As you take to the skies you hear Arrax’s call. Urging Pyraxes upwards, you join your brother. The rain cuts at your cheeks like knives and you struggle to keep your eyes open. A cloud covers what little light there is. No, not a cloud.

Vhagar.

You hear your uncle’s laugh, it leaves you more chilled than the frigid rain. He is taunting Luke, Vhagar nearing Arrax at every turn. Luke tries to evade them but Vhagar is a skilled dragon who has seen countless battles. 

Pyraxes screeches in anger, taking off after the quarreling dragons. You shout to her in Valyrian, bringing your hand to her back, desperate to soothe her. Light breaks through the clouds as Arrax shoots fire at Vhagar. The she-dragon is enraged. You hear Aemond shouting, trying to command Vhagar. Pyraxes dives towards Arrax, desperate to get between them. She is so like you, always the peacemaker, always the defender. 

You try to pull her saddle. There is no way she shall stop this fight, but Pyraxes will not listen. She dives between them as Vhagar lets loose a stream of dragon fire. You hear the anguished screams of Luke, of Aemond as the fire consumes you. 

There is nothing but light all around you, as the flames nearly blind you. Orange, red, and yellow blurs your vision, as you feel the flames lick your skin. Though where you should be in agonizing pain, you merely feel the flames as a caress, soft as velvet across your skin. 

Vhagar stops and Pyraxes dives towards the ground, crashing into a nearby field. The landing is bumpy, and she screams out a panicked call, feeling the fear and surprise that runs through you. Luke lands Arrax nearby, as Aemond does with Vhagar. 

The ground shakes as you roll off Pyraxes, collapsing to the ground. 

“Sister!” Luke’s call is desperate as he rushes over to you, but Aemond is quicker, by your side in an instant. His heart aches, expecting to find nothing but charred remains. He tears his jacket from his body, draping it over your naked form. He crouches to your side, gently pulling you towards him. 

You look up at him, dark eyes wide, hair matted from the rain and sweat that covers you. A dazed expression is on your face. 

“Seven hells,” Luke says, staring at you in wonder. 

Aemond’s eye scans the entirety of your form, not an inch of you goes uninspected as he searches for signs of injury. 

“You should be dead,” Aemond says, in a rough, soft, whisper, “you could have died.”

Pyraxes lets out a screech, seemingly agreeing with Aemond about the fate of her rider. Aemond feels nothing but relief as you are here, unburnt in his arms. He can see the blood in your cheeks. Somehow, someway you are gloriously alive. The threat of war seems far away in that moment as he holds you in his arms. Your face breaks out in a deranged grin, causing Aemond’s heart to skip a beat. 

“Fire cannot kill a dragon.”

[bwat5-blog]

Worlds Apart: Vi & Jinx, Part 1

**Spoilers For All Of Arcane**

By the time we begin the story of Arcane, the world we are thrust into is already one stained by oppression, violence, greed and neglect. The people of Zaun, downtrodden and hungry, march on the Bridge of Progress to demand equality. It is in the ensuing slaughter, that we first meet Violet (who we will call Vi for the rest of this post), and her little sister Powder (will start calling her Jinx when she "becomes" Jinx).

Surrounded by fire and death, we watch these poor children stand alone, death all around them, as the gilded Enforcers of Piltover continue to exterminate their people. Vi initially standing tall, holding Powder's hand while the small child sings out into the night, a song we later learn their mother used to hum. The smoke clears enough to reveal the body of their mother herself, and at that Vi sinks to her knees crying, held by her sister.

This incredibly tragic and horrifying moment in time is both our introduction to this world, and to Vi and Powder. Their relationship is one of the central pillars of this story, having an effect on seemingly every aspect of this tale. It has touched people for many reasons, those who identify more with Vi, those more with Powder and in turn Jinx, and those for whom a tale of two sisters trying to hold on to what matters in a world poisoned long before they were born, will be impossible to forget.

As seems to have become my custom, I will be going through what I believe to be the pivotal moments that impact their relationship, good and bad, and trying to delve deeper if I can into how they develop as sisters. These will focus on the impact to Vi and Powder specifically, so for those looking for the more individual impacts or to the broader world, I may have discussed it in other writings. This is very, very long. I do apologize for that. But that's why I am breaking this into two parts. I think as one of the driving forces of this story, cutting corners on my exploration of their relationship would be disrespectful to the people who worked so hard to bring us this story.

A Second Chance:

It is during the sisters short few years with Vander, that we are given a glimpse into the potential of who they could have been. Vi is older, and so is more hardened to the world, but even then so we see a lightness to her during this time that we will never see again. In powder we see a gentle soul, clever and kind. With a fascination in the unknown, before her intelligence is turned to ways to harm. Until the tragic end of this act, even with all the darkness unfolding around them, we are shown two sisters who have found strength and hope in each-other.

Throughout this time in their lives we see the on-going bullying and belittling of Powder, primarily by Milo. And each and every time, Vi stands up for her, picks her back up, assures her that she is not weak and it's her differences that make her strong.

As she is older and the leader of her siblings, Vi is in a stage of her life where the core tenants of who she is are forming. This is primarily illustrated through her lessons at the feet of her adoptive father, Vander. And although we are focusing on the sisters relationship with each-other here, these lessons impact Vi's decision making and by extension her relationship with Powder for the rest of their lives.

They are not all in the same scene of course but for ease I have listed those I see as most important below:

"When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish.. whatever happens, it's on you"

"Who are you willing to lose?"

"You've got a good heart, don't ever lose it"

"Take care of Powder"

It should also be of note in understanding Vi, that while these conversations were taking place, she gives us a piece of herself that is deeply telling of one her core struggles. She says that she grewup knowing she was lesser, but that she wants Powder to have more and is willing to fight for that. Vi is at most sixteen, and telling us that she wants to be for her sister what she grew up knowing she was unworthy of. To be the shield, and never the shielded.

The tragedy will alter the course of these sisters lives could be said to be the fault of many characters. But ultimately, Silco begins this tragic chain events when he murders the sheriff of Piltover to install his own puppet, murders Benzo, and takes Vander.

The events encompassing the attempted rescue of Vander, ending with his apparent demise, as well as the deaths of Milo, Claggor, and the separation of the sisters, is the second time they will have their entire worlds ripped from them through the violence of those don't care who they hurt. Something I would like to note that is often mischaracterized by fans, is the manner in which Vi left Powder at their home at the missions start:

Milo's dialogue in episode 1 suggests the Vi never leaves Powder behind normally

When Vi instructs Powder to stay this time, yes it is true she says Powder is not ready which hurts the younger sister's feelings. However, Vi has been ruminating on her duty to protect those she cares for since her talks with Vander. She just saw Vander taken, and saw at least the aftermath of what the shimmer mutated Deckard did to Grayson and Benzo. And what does Vi actually say?: "Your not ready... your all I have left, I can't lose you. " she then gives Powder the famous blue flaire, promising "wherever you are light this and I''ll find you.." She is extremely tender with her sister, and clearly does not want to place her in danger.

While on her own, Powder becomes extremely upset. We see her screaming, hitting her head, preparing to destroy a monkey bomb that has failed her. Until she remembers, preparing her pilfered hex-tech stones and setting off to save her family.

Ultimately, it is impossible to know if the rescue really was going to succeed before Powder's intervention. But to all appearances, they were seconds from freedom. Powder was a frightened little girl trying as hard as she could to save her family. She didn't do what she did out of some malice or willful disobedience. It was clear she was terrified of losing her loved ones and not being able to do her part. Her intentions were pure. But intention is irrelevant in the face of extreme grief and fear. and so we come to the incident that changes the sisters relationship forever.

As a triumphant Powder rushes to Vi's side out in the street, declaring her monkey bomb worked, eager for her older sister she looks up to to know that she helped, she is violently brought face-to-face with the consequences of her victory. A sobbing Vi, over Vander's body, Milo and Claggor destroyed. Vi strikes her, grabs her roughly, and calls her a JINX, leaving that little girl who wanted to save her family sobbing in the street.

Vi goes around the corner, ignoring her sisters screams totally lost in her pain and grief. She almost instantly looks, seeing her little sisters blood on her hands, and tries to return, but it is too late. Marcus materializes out of the dark, and Vi vanishes into the bowels of Stillwater Prison. At at most, sixteen years of age.

Much has been said by myself and others, addressing the bizarre anti-Vi sentiments that cropped up since the end of season 2. And Vi's treatment of Powder in this moment is often one of their talking points. Once more, with feeling:

Vi is at most sixteen

She barely survived a fight with multiple armed adult criminals and a shimmer mutant

She has watched her brothers and adoptive father die second before they were free, and all seemingly because Powder didn't listen

I am NOT saying that treating Powder that way was right. It wasn't , and Vi knew that given her almost immediate reaction and attempt to reach her. What I am saying, is placing the blame on a sixteen year old girl for lashing out in a moment extraordinary loss, is lunacy.

Powder, left all alone, sobbing in the street, has had everyone of her insecurities and doubts laid bare. The sister she idolizes hurt her and abandoned her, and because of Powder's own weapon she lost everyone else.. As I said in a previous post, mentally and emotionally, she is an open wound. Leaving her vulnerable and fragile, when Silco arrives.

A World Apart:

Because of the violence and depravity of others, the sister have been apart for seven years. And those seven years they themselves have changed like the world around them. We must have an understanding of who they have become, to speak accurately on their relationship moving forward.

Vi:

Vi has been falsely imprisoned in Stillwater, being beaten and abused for seven years. She went in as a grieving teenager, the loss of her family and the violent ordeal she had just been through still raging in her, and had her entire world frozen in this terrible place. The last time she saw her sister, she was the little girl Vi had left there, bleeding and screaming for Vi to come back. As we discussed earlier, even when she was younger, Vi did not believe herself to be someone people fight for. She is the one who does the fighting. Always the shield, never the shielded. Now lets return to Vander's lessons for a moment in regards to how she believes she has failed:

"When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish.. whatever happens, it's on you"---- Vi does not, cannot consider her own grief and pain in that moment she struck Powder. It doesn't matter that she lost her father to. It doesn't matter that she was in pain and afraid. She failed Powder and that's all that matters.

"Who are you willing to lose?"--- After Vander's lessons, Vi hesitantly asks her siblings if they know she wouldn't take them on a job they couldn't handle and they answer without hesitation that they do. Even though it is their decision to help. Even though it was Silco who took Vander, and Powder who set the bomb (don't worry we will cover Jinx's suffering over this), Vi made the call to go knowing it would risk lives, and will always carry their loss.

"You've got a good heart, don't ever lose it"--- Vander said this to Vi with pride, when Vi attempted to turn herself in and spare her family and the people of Zaun from Piltover's wrath from the heist. Even though she was so young, she tried to intentionally send herself to prison to spare those she loved that pain, which drew Marcus and Grayson to them. Vander came to take her place and stop her, leaving him vulnerable to Silco's abduction. Vi acted out of a desire to save her people, and lost everyone.

"Take care of Powder"-- Obviously related to the first lesson but this goes so much further. Vi's determination to get to her sister, to be there for her and make things right overrides her judgement in many situations, and when she comes face to face with brutal reality of who Powder has become it is extremely difficult for Vi to make peace with.

Vi's self-perception as having failed her family in these ways drive her transformation into the woman we meet when Caitlyn Kiramman comes looking for answers. And note, I say her self-perception, not reality. Vi was sixteen. The guilt, horrific death, and tragedy she faced can be laid at many characters feet but not hers. She was a child caught in the middle of events that began far beyond understanding or control. But as I have said, grief and guilt are the furthest things from rational, and her internalization of this trauma shapes her going forward:

"When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish.. whatever happens, it's on you"-- Vi's journey to believing she is deserving of happiness for herself, not putting anyone else first, is one that will characterize her entire arc as we watch her neglect herself in favor of others.

"Who are you willing to lose?"-- Several times throughout the story Vi attempts to take on threats alone when she doesn't have to. She jumps Sevika in the street even with Caitlyn there. She goes after Sevika and Silco alone at the end of the season as well. And even going into season 2 we see her offering to hunt her sister down by herself, before joining the strike team and even then sent away Maddie, Loris and Zeb before confronting jinx. She doesn't want to cause anyone else to die.

"You've got a good heart, don't ever lose it"-- This speaks to Vi's negative core belief: "I choose wrong every time, and because of it it. I've lost everyone" Now we don't hear her say those words until season 2. And it's not as simple to trace to her actions. But ultimately her doubt in this part of herself, in the worth of this part of herself is what feeds into the others. But as the story progresses, we see her shown time and time again that her willingness to believe in people and her love is not a flaw.

"Take care of Powder"-- This is really what we are about to dive into, but I will say this much. Vi's emotional struggle in accepting that "Powder" as she knew her is no more, and accepting that she still has a sister in Jinx is one of her greatest struggles. And it really gets into the idea of Vi trying to do her duty as an older sister, no matter what that might mean

Finally, after years of hopeless suffering, immensely changed, Vi descends into Zaun with Caitlyn at her side. determined to find her sister.

Jinx:

The changes Powder goes through are, undeniably tragic. Silco takes that broken, angry and traumatized young girl into his arms and makes her his daughter. He takes all of her negative feeling, and rather than giving her a way to work through in a healthy manner, he weaponizes it. He tells that sobbing angry little girl "We'll show them all" only moments after hiding the knife he used on Vander. And was planning to use on her. And while it seems clear that Silco did come to love her as a daughter in his way, he did everything in his power to bury Powder, so that all that was left was Jinx.

Jinx herself, is a series of contradictions. For explanation purposes, I will break her down into three sections.

The Warrior-  We see in her immediate introduction after the time skip she has in a way.. become just as strong as her sister told her she would be. She is a ferocious fighter, wielding an arsenal of custom bombs and firearms, and has gained a reputation as someone to fear.

The Daughter- When she is with Silco, she still behaves in a much more vulnerable way. She is very physically connected to him, wanting to sit with him or lean on him, and often speaks without that signature attitude we have been getting so far.

The Fractured- The evidence of her trauma and pain is still very much a part of Jinx’s life. We see her violently break down after thinking a pink-haired firelight is Vi, killing the woman and firing her gun at everyone on the airship. We then go on to see her, haunted and tormented, seeing the specters and hearing the voices of her family who died in that explosion. The guilt of that, still heavy in her heart and mind twisting her and threatening to break her. We get bits and pieces alluding to this not being a new development either such as the one below:

While making the report of Jinx’s breakdown, Sevika says “She’s a problem and we all know it”—Clearly suggesting this is at the very least not a single incident, and more likely part of an-going problem

After losing everyone she has ever had in her life, Jinx is driven by her desire to prove herself to Silco. Her fear of looking weak to him and being seen as not useful exacerbated the taunting specters of her fallen family. In a desperate bid to regain his favor, she launches the attack to steal the hex stone, killing six enforcers and drawing the attention of Caitlyn Kiramman.

Inner Strength:

In another post, I discussed the concept of the strength in this story and the way in which it is explored. When discussing the character of Jinx and her childhood as Powder, a quick review is necessary:

As a child she was taunted by Mylo and Claggor, and teased for being smaller, weaker, and unable to contribute in a fight. They encourage Vi to leave her behind for these reasons. Her beloved gadgets are also insulted and she herself laments that they will never work

Vi encourages and believes in her. Tells her differences are what make her strong. Tells her that while Vi has her fists, Powder has her gadgets, and they will work someday.   

Vi leaves her behind on the rescue. And while from an outside perspective that was absolutely the correct decision, Powders feeling of inadequacy and being unable to fight for her family drive her to go anyway, and in the resulting tragedy she believes that her sister who believed in her, has abandoned her as well.

So in summary: Feelings of not being strong enough to help her family as a child, comingled with her fear of being left behind or abandoned, drive her into a situation where her sister who believed in her left her after she tried and failed to help. Enter Silco.

“You need to let Powder die, so the fear of pain will no longer control you.. your strong now, like you were always meant to be. Jinx is perfect”

Silco took that broken little girl and yes, he made her strong. She learned to fight, her bombs became lethal, her prowess with a gun only grew, she became fearless in a fight. But in telling her to let go of her past when she was never able to heal, he inadvertently trapped her in a cycle of violence and self-delusion trying to live up to a standard she would never be able to achieve

Reunited:

Finally, after years apart the sisters find each other when Jinx lights up her flare, and Vi comes to her out of the mist. It seems perhaps that things will be okay, at first. Vi embraces Jinx who after a moment falls into her big sisters arms crying. Vi finally gets to apologize to Jinx letting her know she never meant to leave. Jinx tells Vi she has changed and done things, and while of course Vi doesn’t know the full details she accepts that and reassures her sister they had to what was needed to survive. It is only when Caitlyn appears that things begin to sour. Now, a few important things of note:

While Caitlyn is investigating Jinx, she has come for the stone primarily, which she did not tell Vi about.

Vi knows Caitlyn is investigating Jinx but never told her they were sisters.

Despite not actually knowing anything about why Caitlyn was with Vi or what their relationship was, Sevika intentionally plants the seed in Jinx’s mind that she has been replaced, and that Vi has not returned to any concern or love for her sister, out of a desire to destabilize her

Things get very tense, Jinx’s fear and her paranoia spin up aggravating her, and just when Vi seems to be calming her the firelights arrive. Resulting in Jinx being left alone, again. And in addition to not having her sister, she has lost the stone she needed for Silco’s desperately sought after approval.

Aftermath:

Vi-

In the aftermath of their reunion, we find Vi taken to the firelight base with Caitlyn. After a moving reunion with Ekko, she learns that the firelights consider Powder one of the fallen. Ekko insisting that Jinx is Silco’s because she wants to be. Not has to be. And confirms that she and Silco have harmed many of their people. Vi for her part resists in every way,  insisting that Powder is still in there somewhere and she can help her.

Jinx-

Having been left alone again, Jinx is in a very bad place. We find her arguing with the voice of Mylo in her head. We watch a heartbreaking and disturbing sequence, in which she is trying to overrule the voice that she knows Vi was there for her, but with every spike of pain she gets more and more manic until she focuses in on Caitlyn’s name.

Also important, is Jinx’s confrontation with Silco. Like Sevika earlier, he poisons Jinx against Vi and Caitlyn, assuring Jinx that Vi does not care about her and has come for the stone. Silco then goes on to remind her that Vi left her, even though it was not her choice, and guilts Jinx over the fact that he raised her and gave her a home. Which is ironic, given that he is the reason she lost her last one.

The Bridge:

Our involved parties converge on the bridge of progress, the site of Jinx and Vi’s first life altering tragedy. Jinx watches from a hiding place as Vi bids farewell to Caitlyn and Ekko, intent on returning to the undercity to continue her search for Jinx. Of note:

Vi once again insisting she can save her sister to Ekko

Despite Vi and Caitlyn’s growing relationship, and Ekko’s insistence that Jinx is beyond help, Vi chooses to go back in alone, ignoring her own wants and feelings and safety.

“When people look up to you, you don’t get to be selfish”

“who are you willing to lose”

As jinx watches from high up, the specter of Mylo taunts her about Vi and Caitlyn’s feelings, with Jinx insisting “it was only a goodbye hug.. she wouldn’t do that. Not again”

It is only once Jinx sees that they have the stone, the symbol of Silco’s approval, that she launches her attack which in turn brings Vi running back. Jinx kills several enforcers including Marcus, and then locks eyes on Vi holding a wounded Caitlyn. Silco and Sevika’s manipulations, coupled with Jinx’s fears and resentment sent her into a spiral, seeing Caitlyn’s face etched with false sinister expressions she opens fire on Cait and Vi, only stopping due to in the intervention of Ekko, and her eventual grenade detonation.

Aftermath:

Vi- After helping a wounded Caitlyn back to her family home and finally having a moment in peace, Vi and Caitlyn finally talk about Jinx. Much is said, but what is important here that even as Caitlyn tries to assure Vi that when Jinx went through and has become, what is Vi focused on? Her failure. Her belief that she abandoned Jinx and left her to the monster that took her. Notice that even after Jinx almost killed them, Vi isn’t angry.  She isn’t labeling her sister a monster, she is lamenting her failing in protecting her sister from the fate that has transformed her.

Jinx- Dying from her wounds, Silco rushes Jinx to none other than Singed himself, who sets to saving her life with Shimmer. This will of course effect her character for the rest of her life, but in regard to she and Vi’s relationship this is what I will point out. During a moment of lucidity, she is hallucinating Vi being there, reassuring her she is strong, telling her how sorry she is. In this moment of extreme pain and fear, even after what just happened Jinx  is emotionally reaching for Vi. Then Caitlyn appears, Caitlyn who has never actually wronged Jinx in any way, but who Silco and Sevika have turned into the boogeyman in Jinx’s mind, and the hallucination turns to hurting Jinx, and she is left terrified and screaming as the procedure continues.

The Dinner Party:

This scene is really all about the relationship between Jinx and Vi, so I hope I do this justice because there is a lot going on. There is a very important exchange in the beginning. Vi is tied up in the dark. Prowling out of sight, Jinx explains to Vi that while Silco always believed he made Jinx through his lessons, Vi made Jinx. But when Vi tries to apologize, Jinx explains that it was Vi’s voice when things were the worst, picking her up, urging her on that kept her alive. People have of course taken this to mean Vi’s lashing out all those years ago in grief and pain is what sent Jinx down this path. But listen to what Jinx is saying. Vi didn’t put her on the path. She helped her live through it.

Jinx has abducted Vi, Caitlyn, and Silco, bringing them to the sight of Vander’s death at a long table decorated with the dolls she has kept of her dead siblings. Jinx seems to have finally seen the light when it comes to Silco, until she makes an offer to Vi. Kill Caitlyn, and you can have Powder back. When Vi refuses there is a violent confrontation in which after hesitating to shoot Jinx for Vi’s sake,  Caitlyn is knocked out by Jinx, followed by Silco and Vi fighting for her very soul, all culminating in Jinx killing Silco to save Vi’s life.

There has been much talk of Vi’s trying to bring Jinx back to remembering who she was as being selfish and harmful. And I will grant you, the animation in this scene alone shows us a new specter rising over her driving her further down. But lets take a step back for a moment and consider a few things:

“Jinx” is a name born of childhood trauma and pain fashioned by Silco into the dangerous young woman she has become. Calling her Jinx is one of the things Vi feels worst about and is in this moment trying to remind her of the people who loved her and that she still loves her.

The “self” Silco is demanding that Jinx actually is, is this violent, fractured, cruel girl. I am not arguing that holding on to who she was is what is best for her. It clearly as not and the show takes care in crafting one its many lessons teaching us that something you have to let go in order to move on. But Vi is trying to remind her of everyone who loved her and that she still does, while Silco is encouraging her to murder her sister and embrace this broken version of herself that he accepts.

Vi is not a psychologist. She is deeply traumatized woman in her early twenties trying to save her sisters soul. And yes, part of Vi’s insistence that Powder HAS  to be in there somewhere is due to her own trauma creating a resistance to change. But her determination to help her sister is not born of her own selfishness. Let’s take a step back here and take an absolutely barebones look the version of her sister she has encountered since she came home, who Silco insists she really is:

Prior to Vi’s release assisted Silco in his criminal operations, exposing people of the lanes to Shimmer and killing firelights for trying to stop him

Murdered six enforcers and stole hex tech, launching the bridge blockade and renewal of open issues between Piltover and Zaun

Stuck a machine gun under Vi’s chin

Killed several enforcers including the sheriff of Piltover, all before trying to kill Vi and Caitlyn and as far as they know killing Ekko.

Abducted Caitlyn from her home and told Vi she “can have powder back” if she kills her

On-going signs of mental illness and disturbance, talking to herself, screaming, muttering

So, while I can agree that Vi’s hardline belief that she was still who she used to be did not help her in the battle of her mind, if you can honestly say Vi was wrong for trying to save her sister from Silco’s vision of her, that is not a point of view I can understand.

This nightmarish dinner party concludes as Jinx “accepts” who she has become, and after a tearful apology to Silco, fires the missile that will take the lives of Caitlyn’s mother and two other councilors, opening the door for things so much darker to come into their lives, as a screaming Caitlyn and horror stricken Vi watch, unable to stop what is coming.

To those of you who were willing to read all of this I appreciate it. I know it's a lot. But I started doing as a reaction to the startling lack of literacy and true understanding of these characters and their stores. How could i phone it in on such an important piece of that?

If any of you are so generous with your time as to care I hope to do part 2 over the next 2 or 3 days depending on my work schedule. Thank you and take care!

[baldurs-writers-3]

Astarion: A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfic Rec List

This week, we have Astarion Centric fics! Check under the cut for a whopping seventeen fics all about our favorite vampire spawn, and as always, give them a comment and kudos if you like them!

The stars began to burn by peregrinefeathers (87k, Mature) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion/Gale

An AU where instead of having an orb lodged in his chest Gale got stuck in a book. Then when a vampire spawn opened that book he got stuck in that vampire spawn's head. This is the best thing that has ever happened to Astarion; within 15 minutes he's running out of the Szarr palace into the sunlight. Then adventures begin!

Reccer says: a slow burn, like bloodweave is obvious endgame but it takes a while to get there, and Astarion is written /so/ well

Uncrossed Lines by Asidian (1209, Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion & Wyll, Astarion & Halsin, Astarion & Karlach

Friends don't let friends get hurt and/or pressured into doing things they don't want to do

Reccer says: Just an incredibly sweet depiction of people recognizing Astarion's boundaries and helping to enforce them, whether he's expecting them to or not. I love it

Hydnellum Peckii by OctolingO (4403, General) Warnings: talks of Astarion's past but no gruesome details Pairings: none

Astarion is doing a great job hiding what he is from the party, until they reach the Underdark and he has nothing to feed on.

Reccer says: this is so angsty! i loved Gale being too curious for his own good and trying to help and be supportive, and all of Astarion's fears of getting kicked out or killed, bc nobody could ever be in his corner, and having anyone in a position of power apologizing *to him* like that's so foreign - this gave me so many feels!

caught between the dark and the dreaming by Raayide (18925, Teen) Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Pairings: Astarion & Friends

Marcus wants answers, and no one is going to give them to him, unless he forces them to. Astarion is the unlucky target forced to drink a truth serum.

Reccer says: Absolutely delicious whump and found family comfort afterwards

of death potential and death absolute by Raayide (39119, Teen) Warnings: Derealization Pairings: Astarion & Gale, pre-relationship

Astarion is never quite sure, until the moment Cazador lies dead before him, whether this entire adventure is anything more than an extremely vivid hallucination.

Reccer says: this story takes Astarion and twists him up into a little heartbreaking ball of a premise that makes him think everything is just a dream, and how desperate he is to stay in the dream rather than waking up. it retells most of the game with a tight focus and some lovely lovely characters scenes, everyone gets a moment in the spotlight!

Those left behind by Gally (73949, Mature) Warnings: None Pairings: Past Astarion/Karlach

What's Astarion to do after the Absolute is destroyed and the love of his life is now dead?

Reccer says: Lots of funny. Lots of sad. Lots of excellent characterization and slow but steady healing

All it Cost Me by HydieMurderBabe (38529, Explicit) Warnings: Ite explicit, very raunchy and Durge elements of rougher kinds Pairings: Durge X Astarion

Two traumatized nubbins heal from their pasts. Lots of sex and violence ensues.

Reccer says: Its funny, its raunchy, its detailed and most of all I feel like Im invested in the pairing

Collision Course by VakarianSyndrome (123444, Explicit) Warnings: No warnings. Tropes: Modern Girl in Baldur's Gate, found family Pairings: Astarion/F!OC

Set in Baldur’s Gate, this series follows Adelaide, a human woman from Earth, and her somewhat clumsy attempts at navigating this new and fantastical realm. In the process, she falls for Astarion, the pale elf, vampire spawn with level 100 rizz.

Reccer says: It starts out really funny, but then gradually gets serious where needed. The buildup between Astarion and the OC is spicy and sweet, and the smut delivers! And it's completed!

No Good End in View by not_whelmed_yet (60,797, ongoing, Mature) Warnings: Character death (temporary), torture Pairings: Astarion/Wyll/Karlach

Astarion doesn't get time to be terrified of the party, because Wyll cuts off what he sees as a feral vampire spawn's head long before he can try to seduce them. The only problem is that this doesn't kill him. And it continues to not kill him.

Reccer says: this is an achingly beautiful exploration of a team that gets off not so much on the wrong foot but on a freefall - each doing horrible things to each other in ways that all read perfectly understandable from their point of views, but have wretched lasting consequences. the author writes them so in character that I want to throttle them and fall in love all over again

What Could Have Been by Bella1433 (70000, Explicit) Warnings: There is mention of past sexual trauma, its Explicit, and goes into dark territory but not dead dove. Pairings: Named Tav X Astarion

Astarion's transformation into a vampire lord and Sima's fight to reclaim their lost love thrust them into a perilous dance of power, obsession, and redemption.

Reccer says: Its dark, rich, has a different tone and some of the most immersive writing I've read

the ghost of elturel by Raayide (4452, General) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion and Zevlor

Astarion and Zevlor meet, talk, hate each other, and hate themselves. There is nothing particularly of note about any of it.

Reccer says: Recognition of self in the other tied with some amazing introspection and metaphor

Circus of the dead by Ineadhyn (5995, Explicit) Warnings: Rape/Non-con, graphic violence, self-harm Pairings:

A dark horror circus AU with Astarion, Cazador, and his other spawns.

Reccer says: This is so beautiful, tragic, gripping, and I'm utterly obsessed with everything about it.

No Good Deeds by Garnett Gibson (39715, Explicit) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion/Tav

A young woman trying to be a good person gets corrupted by Astarion as they navigate the tadpole issue.

Reccer says: Delicious slow burn and creative deviations from canon.

The Lord and his new ways by FartasticDurge (26459, Explicit) Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Coercion, Manipulation, Abusive Relationships, Dissociation Pairings: Astarion/Tav

Ascended Astarion and Spawn Tav's post-game turbulent relationship from Tav's POV.

Reccer says: She struggles between doing what she thinks is right and obeying him, and seeing her process is interesting. In the latest chapter, they go to therapy, a unique twist for Ascended Astarion.

In Time by FartasticDurge (16927, Explicit) Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Pairings: Astarion/Tav, Astarion & Gale

Post-canon fic where Astarion is looking for a Tav who died and reincarnated into another person. Gale helps him find her, but things take an unexpected turn when they find her.

Reccer says: Astarion POV, a lot of D&D lore, the friendship between Gale and Astarion is interesting and supportive. Tav and Astarion's roles are reversed; he is being nice and she is suspicious of him, which is a nice twist with funny moments.

How Far You've Come by Garnett Gibson (5481, Explicit) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion/Tav

Astarion's obedient consort has come a long way, but sometimes she still steps out of line.

Reccer says: I liked it!

If Only For One Night by Terrormisu (682, Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion/Tav

With their party always busy, Astarion finds himself longing for his little love.

Reccer says: It's a short sweet one shot that made me feel all warm and squishy inside. Hehe. But even the implied intimacy was steamy.

The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ!

Next week, we’ll be back with another character rec list, this time focusing on Family!

[loviatarsluv]

chapter ii. cracked ceilings

pairing: Gale x f!tav (my own oc, Elara)

(takes place mostly after the events of the game with some flashbacks sprinkled throughout)

rating: mature

CW: strong language, slight se*ual harassment (just a drunken oaf making nasty comments), blood/injury, light violence, angst

in summary: After the fall of the brain, and her home having been destroyed in the chaos, Gale offers Elara sanctuary with him back in Waterdeep. She struggles to deal with the feelings she has been harboring for him and the guilt that she’d been the one to prevent either of them from taking the relationship any further a few months prior. Yearning and pining ensues

a/n: thank you to those who were so sweet about the first chapter, it really means so much to me 🥹 i hope you enjoy this one just as much ♡︎

word count: 6.8k

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ii.

She had finally begun to understand why they called Waterdeep ‘the city of splendors’. 

Since coming to stay with Gale, Elara hadn’t left the tower much. A part of her feared running into any further trouble when she’d just experienced more chaos and turmoil than most would in their entire lives, especially now being known as The Hero of Baldur’s Gate. Despite being here rather than back home, she knew word had likely spread as far as Neverwinter by now. 

Gale had been incredibly patient with her, despite his desire to show her around his beloved city. She was boundlessly grateful for that fact despite her guilt for becoming a hermit when he was likely just happy to be home and wanted to enjoy it in its entirety.

She would tell him not to hold back on her account and to do all that he desired with his newfound freedom from the fear of the orb within himself, and that she would be fine right where she was. But she could see in his eyes that he wanted company. Her company. 

So, this time, she relented. A simple trip to the market surely couldn’t hurt, right? 

She caught the end of a familiar tune as she approached the large open window in her bedroom— a song that she remembered her mother humming absently throughout the day, and then singing to her before bed. One of the last vivid memories she had left of her. 

Elara hoped maybe they would pass the bard on their way to the market so she could toss them a few gold pieces. 

She gazed out over the expanse of the ocean and hummed along to the song until its eventual end, smiling somberly to herself. 

She glanced at herself in the mirror and tried to remember her mother’s face— tried to imagine her own face, just older, but with bright blue eyes rather than dull brown, her hair long, pin straight and black instead of untamable, wavy, and garishly bright. 

No. If there was one thing she recalled about her mother, it was that she had the sort of beauty that words couldn’t describe. The kind that scribes and bards scribbled poetry about and sang ridiculous ballads for. 

A far cry from how she viewed herself, certainly. 

Her long azure waves flowed down her back, partially braided back near the crown of her head to keep some of it out of her eyes. Shadowheart had taught her a few hairstyles to manage and tame her hair, but most of the time she just couldn’t be arsed to put in the effort. 

She dusted off some of the robes Astarion ‘purchased’ for her while they were in the Lower City, muttering something about how she desperately needed a wardrobe change. A gift wrapped in a backhanded remark, as could always be expected of Astarion. She smiles at the memory, now suddenly missing him and all of his mischief and hoping he was doing well. 

Perhaps she could pay them a visit soon. 

The robes were rather lovely— a deep cerulean mixed with accented gold metal clasps and brown leather, the length of it just right so that it doesn’t drag the floor. It suited her well. Astarion really did have a good eye, unsurprisingly. Perhaps in another life he was a tailor. 

She takes one last long look at herself in the mirror, the anxiety evident in her eyes as well as the dark circles under them. She’d barely gotten a wink of rest as her mind turned over every possibility of what could happen the moment she steps foot outside of this tower. 

Nothing that made any sense or seemed feasible— but then again, a year ago, the thought of a mindflayer invasion seemed like a fever dream. 

Now was not the time for what if’s. All would be well. She would have a nice outing with her good friend. 

Great friend.

Friend.

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Gale had mastered the art of keeping himself occupied. 

He somehow always had something he could be working on or a book he could be reading or a subject he could study further, especially in times when his mind required redirection.

Or distraction, rather.

Spending an entire year in solitude with only yourself, your books, and four walls to keep you company teaches you many things about yourself. 

Spending months surrounded by who very likely could be the love of your life without the ability to act on that feeling also teaches you many things about yourself. 

There had been many days spent holed up in his library, trying all that he could to keep his mind off of anything other than her and her eyes (one a deep, rich brown and the other a much lighter, honey-like shade) and her dazzling smile that made him feel like if the orb were still present in his chest, he would be at risk of implosion just at the sight of it. 

Now, to have a proper outing that would finally be just the two of them after months of dropping hints— he was feeling quite restless. 

So much so, that he basically leaps to his feet at the sound of her footsteps bounding down the stairs, standing quickly and straightening his clothes before she appears from the staircase, adjusting himself and ensuring nothing was askew or out of place. He smooths his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear and adjusts his sleeves just before she emerges, his heart skipping a beat as he sees her.  

He had to remind himself many times that this excursion was nothing more than a quick trip to the market— but it did little to quell the sweat beads rising in his palm and the buzzing in his stomach. 

He hadn’t spent a lot of time with her that felt like they were both choosing each other’s company. It almost always felt like they just happened to end up in the same room as each other by chance, or if they did, it was merely to complete a task. To do research, to eat breakfast or dinner, to exchange notes.

If it were up to him, he would remain at her side every moment that her eyes were open and if he were allowed, even those when they were closed. 

He was only waiting for the right moment, or any sort of notion that she had perhaps changed her mind— then, he would— well, do something.

Uncharacteristically enough for him, he hadn’t really thought that far yet. 

Now may be an apt time to start, though.

“Sorry I took so long, I had to make sure I had everything so we can stock up and last us a little longer.” She says with a huff, gesturing to the two wicker baskets draped over her arms. 

He stares at her for longer than was necessary, mouth slightly agape as he took in the sight of her. It wasn’t unusual for her to look anything short of breathtaking, but this had been the most put together he’d seen her since bringing her back to Waterdeep. She looked—

“Radiant,” he mutters, not realizing the word hadn’t remained only in his mind. 

She smirks at him awkwardly, looking down at herself. “What did you say?” 

He shakes his head, clearing his throat. “I said— I just meant— you look lovely today.” 

She chuckles, averting her gaze sheepishly. “Funny.” 

“Not at all. I meant it, Elara. You look… you are radiant.” He says, his voice low and reverent, as if he were admiring a painting hung in a gallery. 

A blush rises to her cheeks as she tries to fight off what would probably have been the widest she’d ever smiled in her life. “Oh… well, thank you, Gale. You look… dashing. As always.” She replies, the dimples in her cheeks visible as she grins shyly. 

“Why, thank you, my lady,” he says with a bow, then holds his hand out as an invitation for hers. She timidly places her hand in his, and he presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Shall we?” 

She’s taken aback by the gesture, her already intense blush only becoming ever more prominent and persistent, the heat in her cheeks beginning to feel as though she may burn up before they even make it outside. 

She nods slowly, then follows his lead out the door, her hand lingering in his until they reach the front door steps. She takes a few steps ahead of him and attempts to steady her breathing, as he quickly casts Arcane Lock on the door before rejoining her.

Everything seemed to come alive with a brand new vigor— the streets were full again, the sounds of children running and playing as well as the Waterdhavian locals just existing and enjoying the sunshine for the first time in months echoed off the sides of the stone buildings that lined the streets. The faint melodic strumming of a lyre could be heard not too far from the Dekarios residence, as a bard occupied a spot just outside one of the nearby taverns and busked for coins throughout the day. 

They walk side by side in silence for a little while, both of them happily drinking in the sights surrounding them. Gale points out places and bits of interest as they walk, telling her stories of his life growing up on these very streets. 

She listens to him, but her mind fills any empty gaps with his voice echoing in her mind again and again. 

You are radiant. 

Gale was not averse to a bit of flattery, it wasn’t an uncommon behavior for him to compliment her or offer her or anyone else a kind word when it seemed they needed it, and even times when they didn’t.

But something about the phrasing of it struck her. Almost in a way that nearly made her believe it. If Gale Dekarios thought she was radiant, then by the gods, she must be. 

No one had ever seemed to look at her twice before in her life— none had ever seen her in that light or verbalized such a thing to her before. Not like that.

But Gale— gods, she’d write it in the stars if she could. She would paint the night sky with each syllable in only the most dazzling of stars, the brightest she could find— so that every night she could remember the way it sounded dripping from his tongue like honey. 

A single word had never filled her entire body with a warmth that the sun’s rays could never provide.

Radiant.

“I’m not sure if I’ve asked you yet, but how have you enjoyed Waterdeep thus far? Despite not having seen much of it yet,” He asks, slowing his pace slightly to accommodate her, her legs being shorter than his so her shorter strides made her fall behind. 

He had asked, a few times. But that was months ago when it was all still new. Plus— her answer had changed considerably since the last time he asked. 

“Hush, you,” She pushes his shoulder playfully, a soft melodic giggle following. Gale’s heart flutters. 

“Not to worry. We are remedying that from this day forward. By the time we’re done, you’ll never want to go back to Baldur’s Gate, I guarantee it.” He says proudly, a dash of hope in his eyes as he does. 

“I don’t know. Does Waterdeep get invaded by tentacled monsters and completely ravaged by cultists and corrupt politicians and their armies regularly? Might not be my speed,” she teases. 

“It is not without its strange happenings, I can assure you. Nothing quite so severe, I am regretful to say.” 

“A shame.” 

They smile at each other for the length of the lull in conversation, their banter bringing memories of their adventuring days back to the forefront. The gleam in Gale’s eye causes her to look away as if she’d looked at the sun for too long. 

After a beat, Gale continues. “But, there is nothing quite like witnessing the changing of the seasons in Waterdeep. I’m happy to provide that experience for you, at long last.” He replies, punctuating it with a wink. 

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder to his, averting her gaze to the cobblestone beneath her feet as they continue to walk. “Thank you, for that, by the way. For… letting me stay with you. I know it’s not ideal. I’m sure you would’ve liked to enjoy some peace and quiet in your home after everything… and I don’t know if I have properly thanked you for allowing me to stay with you, so,” she rambles, the heat in her cheeks only increasing. 

He places a soothing hand on her arm, his fingertips featherlight as he slowly runs them along the length of her bicep before returning to his side. 

“After a year of complete solitude outside of my cat and hundreds of books whose pages I am all too familiar with, your company is more than wonderful and most welcome. No thanks necessary.” 

When she meets his eyes, the warm and mirthful smile that greets her nearly turns her legs to jelly, but she would happily melt under the sunshine that was his gaze. 

Before she can attempt to craft a response to him, a commotion is heard ahead, and both of their attention snaps to it.

A crowd has begun to form near the front of the nearby tavern, and not a single intelligible word could be made out of the raucous whooping within the crowd of presumably day drunk patrons and bystanders craning their necks to watch whatever was taking place at the center of it. She furrows her brows, shooting Gale an inquisitive glance.

She watches closely for a moment before she feels Gale’s guiding hand on her back, urging her to go in a different direction, any other direction. 

“Come, let’s push on. There is no shortage of drunken tomfoolery around here, it’s nothing to concern ourselves with. Besides, Tara will be waiting for us, and trust me when I say she is not the most pleasant when she’s been kept waiting,” he says, his voice low next to her ear. It was a throwaway excuse to pull her away from the ruckus and to safety to avoid potentially getting swept into a hysteria she needn’t get swept into. 

If her mind hadn’t been so preoccupied by whatever was happening in front of them, she’d have been blushing furiously at the position of his hand, just above the small of her back. Something to try not to think too much about later. 

Her eyes flick to him for an instant before she hears what sounded like a lyre being smashed against the side of the bricked building. Her head snaps in that direction, and the crowd parts in just the right way for her to see a young tiefling crumpled to the ground with his face in his hands, and an older human man above mocking him, gripping part of the smashed instrument in one of his fists. 

Her face twists to a deep grimace, and before she can stop herself her feet are carrying her forward, her pace quickening. Gale calls to her from behind, his voice distant and nearly inaudible over the loud pounding and drumming of her heart in her ears. 

The crowd has begun to disperse only slightly, but a handful of people still linger and are either cheering on the older man or encouraging the tiefling to stand and fight. The tiefling’s shoulders shake and tremble as he cowers away from the inebriated brute towering over him bellowing nonsense.

The man stands above what she can now see is merely a child, no older than thirteen, shouting taunts of profanity and cruelty that she tries her hardest to disregard before the lightning crackling in her palm can (very easily) send him onto his ass. 

She calms herself as she shoves her way through the crowd, taking a breath before she approaches the child and kneels before him.

“Hello,” she says, her voice soft so as to not startle him. She places a gentle hand on his arm, coaxing him into looking up at her. “Are you okay?” 

Before he can respond, the booming of the perpetrator’s slurred mockery echoing throughout the small alleyway interrupts them both. 

“Oi, missy! Careful, the little foulblood’ll snatch yer coin purse when ye ain’t lookin’!” 

The tiefling peers at her with desperate eyes, his flickering flame-like yellow irises beginning to gloss over again as new sobs begin to wrack through his fragile looking body. “I didn’t— I swear, I didn’t do a-anything!” 

She searches his face for any sign of deceit, noticing the faint scar that ran along his cheek from his eye to the corner of his lip that looked like it had only healed somewhat recently. His body language resembles that of a frightened pup in a cage and his tears seem genuine, so she offers him a reassuring smile. “I believe you.” 

“‘M talkin’ ta ye, missy! Ye got shit for manners too?” The man yells again, the sound of the broken instrument clattering to the ground following it. 

She continues to ignore him, entirely unfazed by his drunken tirade or his hulking size. She’d fought monsters far more intimidating in the last year, he would be quick work if it came to that. 

“‘Ye think yer too good fer ‘vryone, too good ta’ listen when a man talks ta’ ye.” He rants, her last few strings of patience beginning to wear dangerously thin.

“No, I just don’t care to listen to drunken oafs.” She retorts, her tone nonchalant and almost cocky in a way that sets the man over the edge.

The man launches into a blind rage, and she barely has a second to comprehend the situation before she hears a grunt of fury and large hands crash into the side of her body, surely bruising her ribs with the force it took to shove her to the ground, nearly knocking the breath from her lungs. She yelps as stone scrapes across her bare arm and the side of her head collides with the ground. The tiefling jumps backward and out of the line of fire of the older man’s warpath, eyes wide and boring into hers in terror. 

“Elara!” Gale calls out, pushing through the now dense crowd frantically. 

He finally makes it through, and the very second his eyes lock on her as she attempts to sit up, fire burns through his veins and concentrates at the center of his palm.

He notices a small trickle of blood running down the side of her face, one hand clutching her ribs as the other presses over the tender spot where her skull met stone. He’s at her side in an instant, gathering her up into his arms and holding on to her tightly. 

“Are you alright?” He asks her, his voice cracking with concern. 

She bristles, fury flaring within her. Before she can stop herself, her once brown eyes glow blue, the lightning coursing through her burning its way down to her palms. Gale’s eyes widened before scrambling to calm her before causing even more of a scene, despite her ire being well deserved on the drunken man’s end. 

“Not here, Elara. Let me handle this, please.” 

He places a hand on her cheek, his palm catching a drop of warm blood that makes his boil. 

After a moment of contemplation she nods, the anger still evident in her furrowed brow. She glances between him and the child backed against the wall, her main focus still on ensuring his safety. She motions to the child for him to stand with her, and Gale steps in front of them both protectively as he turns to face the drunkard. 

“‘S that yer boyfriend, eh, girly? Wanna know how it feels t’ be with a real man?” The man cackles, stumbling forward as he belly laughs at his own vile taunts. 

Gale’s own composure is slipping as he feels the heat from the fire itching at his fingertips as it begins to emit a faint and crackling orange glow. 

“It may be wise to walk away, friend.” Gale’s voice is threateningly calm, soft with a not-so-hidden edge to it. 

The man balks at the wizard, much smaller in stature than himself yet somehow still intimidating in nature. Likely more so intimidating once he realizes who he was up against. Not intimidating enough not to egg them on, however. 

The man’s yellowed teeth show in a crooked smile. “Aye… I know the two of ye. If it ain’t the cunt of Waterdeep and the so called Hero of Baldur’s Gate. Softened up since the squids left town, have ye?” 

Elara dashes forward before Gale’s arm comes out to stop her, magic surging between both of them like a thunderstorm brewing in the heavens. 

“Piss off, ugly. Lest you leave with a scorched hide.” Elara hisses, pushing against Gale’s arm that served as a barrier between them. 

“Didn’t think th’ mighty Hero of Baldur’s Gate wa’ just a common whore off th’ streets. Funny, that is, innit?” 

Gale’s shoulders tense and his jaw clenches, gritting his teeth to bite back the storm of curses burdening the tip of his tongue. “Walk away. Now.” 

His fingers twitch against the effort it takes not to hurl a fire bolt right at the bastard’s cocky face, but it seemed he wouldn’t have to as the man notices the faint glow of fire in Gale’s palm as well as the lightning crackling in Elara’s and begins to back away, apprehension etching into his weathered and sunburnt features, fear visible in his eyes. 

“You lot ‘re just as uppity as I thought ye’d be,” he mutters as he raises his hands in surrender, then quickly rounds the corner and dashes down the alley without another word, and the wizard relaxes his hand, dispelling the cantrip from his palm. 

The air is still crackling with tension as the three of them try to steady their breathing, Gale in particular finding it difficult as the sight of her on the ground and her sweet face that, prior to this entire encounter, had been adorned with a smile that could stop a charging Minotaur in its tracks, twisted in pain and a gash on her forehead. Not to mention the disgusting comment that foul—

Deep breaths. 

The crowd slowly begins to disperse, some eyeing the two wizards wearily as they begin to back away, some pointing at them and whispering to their counterparts, some recognizing them and some inquiring to who they were or what their significance was. 

Eventually they, too, depart, leaving only two of them and the tiefling who was still cowering behind Elara, gripping the back of her robes as if he would fall through a crack in the ground without her anchoring him. 

Gale spins around and cups Elara’s face gently, his umber eyes teeming with distress and a bit of anger as they scan her face for any further signs of injury or harm. Her eyes still glowed blue despite the situation stabilizing.

“Elara,” Gale whispers soothingly. “It’s over.” 

Her eyes meet his as she blinks a few times, until they return to their natural deep earthy tone, sparkling as water burgeons at the corners. 

Gods, she has the most beautiful eyes. 

“Are you well? Did he hurt you? Is your head okay?” He asks frantically, the words tumbling from his lips in rapid succession as he gently turns her head to check each side of her face. 

She swallows hard and tries not to get lost in the way his strong but elegant hands feel on her burning cheeks as he fusses over her, and places her hand over one of his in an attempt at calming his distraught babbling. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she shushes him, placing her other hand on his arm. “Everything is fine.” 

Gale frowns. “It is most certainly not fine, you hit your head and you are bleeding. We should head back and clean that up, I’ll just run to the market tomorrow—”

“Gale.” She coos, cutting his rambling short. “You act as if you haven’t seen me in much more dire straits. I will live.” 

He stops, his entire body stilling and a heat creeping to his cheeks. Reality washes over him again as he blinks out of his worrisome daze, and realizes his hands still on her cheeks, and her hand over his— oh, hells, her hands are so soft, so warm— and slowly begins to pull away. She nods her head in the direction of the child attached to her hip, reminding him that they had company still. He takes a deep breath and glances around, likely looking to see if he catches a glimpse of that bastard and hoping that he was still within range for him to send a witch bolt his way. He’s unable to hide his disappointment when his search is fruitless. 

The child’s eyes widen when Gale turns once again to face them and sighs deeply, his shoulders sinking low when all of the air exits his lungs, his body seeming to shrink with his posture. He slams his eyes shut tight, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking slow and steady breaths to calm himself. 

“Mystra, give me strength.” He murmurs under his breath.

Elara ignores the disgruntled wizard at her side, leaning down slightly to be closer to the smaller tiefling’s height. 

Elara smiles reassuringly and places her hands on his shoulders. “I’m so sorry about that. Are you okay?” 

The child stares up at her, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the man brooding behind her. 

“He’s with me, it’s alright.” She says, making her best attempt at a soothing and calm tone despite her voice wavering. 

The tiefling’s eyes dart to the wreckage that is left of what was once his instrument, and his frown deepens. “My lyre…” 

She follows his gaze, wincing when she sees the extensive damage. She could tell instantly upon inspection even from a distance that there was no repairing it, and it would simply need to be replaced. She offers him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder. What was once what appeared to be a beautiful instrument, was now shattered into several jagged pieces, sprawling across the ground around them. She frowns, feeling regretful for its owner but also for herself— an echo of a memory from this morning when she heard her favorite song being strummed by it reverberating in her mind. 

“What’s your name?” She asks him. 

He bounces heel to toe, his hands behind his back timidly. His peach-tinted skin contrasts the dark mop of curls atop his head, with two small horns peeking out of them. He’s quite slender, but still has the tiny bit of pudge that a prepubescent child would have, his cheeks round and youthful. He reminds her of the kids from the Emerald Grove. She smiles sadly, hoping the ones that made it were doing well. 

“Dex.” He says meekly, his face downcast and defeated as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Dex. I’m Elara, and this—” she motions to the man behind her. “is Gale.”

Gale’s attention snaps to her at the sound of his own name, clearly having been mentally elsewhere during the entire exchange. He meets the uncertain gaze of the child, and bows slightly, offering a warm smile. Dex smiles back, a small chuckle leaving his lips at the gesture. 

“Thank you, for helping me. I’m s-sorry you got hurt,” he points to her bloodied forehead and forearm, reminding her of the stinging sensation biting at her nerves shallowly within her skin. Her head was pounding and throbbing, her vision not entirely steady, but she tries her best to disregard it for the moment.

“I think I’ll live. I’m sorry about your lyre.” She says, motioning to the scattered wooden debris and frayed strings. 

He shrugs. “I’ll live.” 

She chuckles, her smile widening. Gale watches her with this unfamiliar child that she had no real reason to be so kind to, other than just out of the boundless kindness of her heart, and feels that warm twinge in his chest he’d grown all too familiar with since she made her grand entrance in his life. He’d seen her with kids many times now, whether it was with the tieflings or with Yenna, but each time his heart skips several beats and the urge to whisk her away and kiss her on the stoop like he’d previously imagined becomes harder and harder to resist.

“Well, Dex. I think you’d best get going home. It’ll be dark before too long and I’m sure your parents will be worried. Hm?” She tries on her best schoolteacher voice, placing her hands on her hips. 

Dex sighs, his entire body shrinking at the mention of his parents. “I don’t want to go home without my lyre… they’ll be furious at me.”

She pauses for a moment, then shoots Gale a pleading glance, hoping he has any bright ideas that could magically fix everything for this poor child. She looked at him as if the child were a lost kitten that she was begging him to let her bring home. 

He looks toward the sky pensively for a moment, appearing as if he were doing calculations in his head, then wordlessly and effortlessly waves his hand in a flourish, whispering an incantation that reassembles the lyre with a purple hued fog of weave. 

Dex’s widened eyes sparkle with glee as each of the fractured pieces of the instrument rejoin as if they’d never been apart to begin with. The lyre floats toward the child, basked in violet and sapphire light, landing gently into his still shaky grasp. Gale smiles and nods at the boy as the light fades, his eyes gleaming with a hint of pride. 

“Weeping bleeding hells! How did you do that?!” He chirps, turning the lyre in his hands and inspecting each and every inch of it in search of any cracks or imperfections, then smiling a wide toothy grin, his pointed teeth peeking over his lips when there is not a single dent or scratch to be found. 

Gale chuckles, then pats the boy on the shoulder. “Stay out of trouble, young man. Hopefully next time we meet will be under better circumstances.” 

She turns to Gale, impressed. “You have got to teach me whatever the hell that was.”

The young tiefling glances back to Elara, the exuberant expression on his face contrasting the tear stains still present on his cheeks. Before she or Gale have any time to react, he throws his body between them, wrapping his tiny arms around the both of them as best as he could manage, and nuzzling his face into Elara’s arm. 

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” He says as he pulls away and turns to leave, glancing over his shoulder and waving to them one last time before scurrying off. 

She watches the boy disappear into the distance, skipping along the cobblestone streets with a childish glee that fills her with a wistful sensation— to be that young and for everything to be so new, for something as simple as a fixed lyre to make her completely forget any hurt or pain that had befallen her. She envies him, silently, as she watches him run home to his parents surely to regale everything that happened to him today, just as she wished she’d been able to every time something exciting happened to her during the day. 

Gale notices her sudden shift in demeanor, then places a hand placatingly on her uninjured arm. 

“Elara?” His voice is gentle and tepid. “Allow me to help you with this,” he says, motioning to the still bleeding cut on her head. “Let’s head back.” 

She sighs, turning to him but unable to muster a genuine smile, still taken by real memories and those that never came to pass. Her lips curl, but her eyes remain glossy and sullen. She nods, the motion small and nearly imperceptible. Without another word, they head back to the tower, her arm never leaving the comfort of Gale’s hand as they walk. 

Something so simple, something that could mean nothing. But to her, it meant everything. 

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The scent of balsam and sandalwood fills the room as Gale’s adept fingers gently dab at the small cut on her forehead, his eyes narrowed and his brows knitted together in deep concentration.

He pestered her until he could coax her into sitting in her favorite spot on the chaise where he could tend to her, much to her protest.

Stubborn wizard, she grunted as he gently guided her to sit. He did not regard any of her disgruntled murmurs, nor her insistence that she was fine and not to worry. 

Just as she’d helped that boy on the street, he felt the least he could do is take gentle care of her the way she would anyone else. He recalled noticing her attempting to heal herself or patch her own wounds when no one was looking while they were on the road, before eventually having to ask Shadowheart for a quick healing spell, much to her dismay. Had she always had to pick herself up? Had no one ever swept in and dusted her off when she fell before? 

He would. From now forward. Even if it were something as small and simple as rubbing balsam on her wounds, however small, and wrapping it with the softest cloth he could find. He would be that for her. He would be anything for her, should she ask. 

It wasn’t lost on him how intimate of a gesture it was, to treat another’s wounds, either— he couldn’t deny that he simply just wanted to care for her in a way that felt deeper than just cooking for her and providing a bed for her to sleep in. 

“That was incredibly admirable of you, back there. Stepping in like that. That boy won’t soon forget what you’ve done for him.” He says, his tone reverent and almost thankful on the child’s behalf.

She smiles a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Guess the hero gig is one I haven’t quite given up on,” she half-jokes. “He seemed like a sweet kid. And I would hope someone would do the same if it were me, in his shoes.” 

She says it, but she realizes that Gale sort of had done the same for her, many times— especially the way he stepped in and deescalated the situation today. The way he stood in front of them protectively, blocking them with his body as if he were willing and ready to take whatever blows were aimed at them in their place. 

“He’ll remember you, too,” she continues, her breath slightly catching as he rubs balsam on the still raw and tender spot just above her eyebrow, and wincing as the fabric of the cloth brushes against the raised skin. “You saved him twice, in a way. Saved him from a drunkard and an angry lecture from his parents.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head causing a stray strand of hair to fall into his eyes as he does. “I suppose so. You took care of all the heavy lifting, though. I just helped with the clean up.” 

She fights herself and her need to push that hair out of his eyes. Would that be too intimate? Would that push things too far? 

Her eyes lock on the strand as she speaks. “You did your own heavy lifting, for my sake. Thank you. For stepping in. And for this,” her eyes dart up to his wrist, just as he finishes. “Even though you didn’t have to.” 

He places the soiled cloth aside then sits back slightly, where he was still able to see every detail of her face as clearly as he could see his own in a mirror when he was close enough, and eyes her for a moment, a smile ghosting on the edges of his lips. 

“To do something for someone doesn’t always have to be borne of necessity or desire for reciprocity. I wanted to.” 

His face was so close, she could nearly feel his breath whispering across the flushed skin of her cheeks. She wants to say thank you again, but finds that every single word in her vocabulary has escaped her as she basks in this closeness and the way she can see the reflection of the flickering candle beside her in his dark eyes that still managed to seem so bright with the way they twinkled as he looked at her. 

“Can I ask you something?” He breaks the silence but not the tension as their gazes stay locked. 

She nods, dazed by the closeness, intoxicated by his presence.

“Back in the Shadow Cursed Lands… when you said that our relationship couldn’t go any further… did you mean that?”

She swallows hard despite her throat feeling dry, her entire body tensing at his questioning. The emotions of the day had fluctuated so immensely and the mention of the thing that had been weighing so heavily on her mind for so long only served to bid them to return in full force. A pit forms in her stomach and she feels the urge to retreat. 

“Gale...” She tries to maintain composure, despite her words wavering upon delivery. She offers Gale that same smile from before— the one that never quite reached her eyes. He frowns, but nods. 

“Understood.” He says simply, their faces still dangerously close.

“No, no— I don’t mean— I am just not sure if I have the proper words to convey to you. I—” He moves one hand to comfortingly cover hers as it rests on her knee, patting it gently.

“Perhaps it was too bold of a question after such a harrowing day. Disregard it.” 

The warmth of his hand and his words radiates throughout her entire body, down to her bones. She notices the strand is still hanging in front of his eyes. She doesn’t hold herself back from brushing it away this time, her fingertips lightly graze his forehead as she tucks it behind his ear. Her hand lingers near his face for a while, but not nearly long enough, before she drops it back to her side.

“What if I said no?” She utters fearfully, her voice betraying her and her moment of courage. “Does that change things?”

Gale balks at her, taken aback by the gesture and her words, quick flickers of shock, trepidation, then elation flashing across his expression. He smiles a smile that sends a shiver through her, his eyes dropping to her lips and the gap between them suddenly seeming so much smaller. 

Oh. 

It was getting smaller, as she realized that the magnetic pull between their lips was getting stronger as they both began to lean in, her body taking the reins as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening and determine if she were dreaming or not— had she hit her head hard enough to hallucinate?

“Mr. Dekarios?”

The sound of Tara’s voice calling from down the hall cuts the moment short, both of their heads snapping in the direction of the sudden intrusion. Gale sighs, his head falling in evident disappointment. He glances at her, her eyes wide and her cheeks a bright rosy red that makes his heart flutter. 

“Gods damn it... I should—”

“No worries, go ahead. I’m going to go rest, my head is killing me.” She waves him off, her voice strained and brimming with disappointment.

Gale stares at her for a moment, the desire to kiss her still lingering but ebbing as he sees her pulling away, suddenly feeling as though he’d done something terribly wrong. He opens his mouth to ask, but before he can she’s standing and quickly darting across the room and into the hall, stopping just at the doorway and peering at him over her shoulder. 

She sighs, placing a hand on the doorway and using it for support, her legs feeling as though they may give out on the spot. “Thank you, again.” 

He watches helplessly as she disappears into the hall and the sounds of her footsteps fade slowly, preceded by the sound of a  bedroom door clicking shut. His eyes pinch shut so tightly that he sees stars amidst the inky blackness behind them, and he sinks back into his chair, wishing a blackhole would form underneath him and swallow him.

He could conjure one, if he wanted to. 

He heavily considered it. 

“Mr. Dekarios, fix your posture! Your back already aches enough as it is,” Tara admonishes him as she strolls into the room, blissfully unaware of the havoc she’d just wreaked on his sanity. 

As per usual. 

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There were a surprising amount of cracks in the ceiling above the bed in the room that she stayed in. 

Everything else in this tower seemed nearly pristine aside from appearing well lived in and well loved, Gale evidently cared greatly about his surroundings. The home was cluttered but organized to his exact liking, perfectly tidy apart from books and papers and scrolls strewn about but still cozy and comfortable. Anyone who entered would feel at home. 

She felt at home, more than she wanted to admit to herself. She tried to continue to remind herself that at some point she would have to leave and move on. But as she lay in this bed— this large, ever so comfortable bed— gaze trailing along the strangely cracked ceiling of her bedroom, she wondered what the ceiling of his bedroom looked like. 

She was certain there were no cracks in his bedroom ceiling. There couldn’t be. 

Today had been immensely overwhelming in terms of her feelings toward Gale that had once been burning embers and were now alight in full force— him having stoked the flames tenfold with his seemingly innocent touches and his ardent care for her that he put on full display multiple times throughout the day, all culminating in an almost-kiss. 

They almost kissed. He almost kissed her.

They were so close. She could still feel the heat of his breath against her cheeks and the skin on the back of her hand tingled with the sensation as if his hand remained there still, his thumb rubbing languid circles against her wrist.

In fact, every part of her skin that he’d touched today still felt as if it had been electrically charged, still buzzing and alight with energy that had nowhere to go. She missed the feeling of him already and it was only a mere whisper of a taste rather than an entire bite. 

It wasn’t entirely her fault, obviously, that it never came to pass— Tara had a way of having serendipitously terrible timing. She wasn’t always sure that Tara didn’t know exactly what she was doing, and she wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case this time. 

It was endearing, most of the time. 

But even if Tara hadn’t interrupted— would she have really kissed him? Would he have really kissed her? Or would some other force of nature and horrible timing pluck them out of each other's grasps yet again? 

She thinks maybe he would have. She hopes. 

Now, she’s not sure she’ll ever get the chance to. 

Guilt began to gnaw and claw at her insides furiously as she remembered the way she’d exited the study— hurried and curtly— and the way hurt and confusion etched into his features as he watched her leave.

She loved him. She knew that she did. There was no way around it. She loved him and it was killing her.

But something always stops her in the moments when she longs to tell him, to finally let him in.

It wasn’t that she was inexperienced in the romance department— she’d had a few partners here and there, nothing substantial and all quite short lived— and if she’s being honest, she had never felt strongly toward a single one of them. Most were kind, loving. She enjoyed their company. But she’d never felt comfortable enough to open up to another person and allow them to see the less than savory bits of her that she kept to herself.

And strangely enough, she felt very comfortable with Gale most of the time— she had to, during all those months traveling together. They all saw each other at their worst and lowest moments, but they supported each other through it all. Gale had been particularly helpful to her amidst her own personal struggles she faced in that time. He had been the closest to her, aside from Astarion and Shadowheart.

He’s an easy person to just exist with. That is, if you aren’t hopelessly enamored with him. 

Gods. 

She clenches her eyes shut and pinches the bridge of her nose— another habit of Gale’s that she’d picked up— wishing the large quilt and plush mattress beneath her would just swallow her. Just take her away from it all and save her from having to deal with the consequences of her own idiocy. 

Knock knock. 

“Elara?” 

The sound of Gale’s voice on the other side of her door lurches her from her thoughts and her body up from the mattress. She quickly hops off of the bed and approaches the door, her hand hovering shakily over the handle. 

“Yes?” She asks, turning her head so her voice appears further away than it actually was. 

She hears what sounds like feet shuffling aside from a brief pause, before hearing a long and defeated sigh. 

“Can we talk?” Is all he manages, dejection evident in his tone. 

She reaches for the handle again, turning it slowly and pulling the door just enough to see him through the crack. 

He looked the way he did when something was weighing heavily on his mind or vexing him— she could tell he’d been raking his fingers frantically through his hair as it was uncharacteristically messy and unkempt, his robes were nowhere to be seen, and he stood only in his white wrap shirt that was tied dangerously loosely and tucked into his breeches. 

Not now, brain. Not now. 

“Everything alright?” She asks, trying to hide the sound of her swallowing the massive lump in her throat. 

He shakes his head, placing his hand against the wood grain and gently pushing it, opening it further. 

“The very question I came to ask you,” he retorts. “May I?” 

She nods, backing away from the door to give him enough room to push it the rest of the way open, her heart thudding a million a minute.

He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his expression nearly unreadable. For as expressive as his eyes were, she had such a hard time understanding him or trying to sort out what mental storm was brewing in his head sometimes.

“I could not bear resting my head upon my pillow and or fathom sleeping a wink tonight without knowing whether I’ve done something to upset you or not. If I crossed any lines today, please do tell me, and allow me to offer my most sincere of apologies for—”

What? 

“Gale—“ 

“—ever making you feel uncomfortable or uneasy in any way, I would never want to jeopardize the friendship that I feel we have formed over the course of this past year and—”

“Gale, hold on—”

“—if I’ve done something to potentially sour anything, just know it was never my intention—“ 

“Gale!” She raises her voice in a final attempt to catch the rambling wizard’s attention, crossing the space between them and placing her hands on his shoulders. 

He takes a deep breath, his shoulders tense and she can feel the way his body trembles slightly. 

“Relax, please. You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable. Ever.” She coos, rubbing circles with her thumb into his shoulder. 

A few days ago, a gesture like this would’ve made her entire being feel as though she were on fire— but after today, it felt right. After receiving such care and comfort from him, the least she felt she could do was to return it in kind. 

He stares at her incredulously, as if he simply just doesn’t believe a word she’s saying. 

“You don’t have to spare me, Elara. I saw that look in your eyes. I never want to make you feel that way, ever again.” His face softens as he speaks, the pain of potentially slighting her in some way weighing heavily on his chest. 

She blinks a few times, then that gnawing guilt returns with even sharper teeth, maybe some claws too. She pinches her eyes shut and releases a long breath from her nose. 

“You— you think I didn’t want to kiss you?” She murmurs under her breath.

“I feel as though I keep pushing you and all I’ve done is push you further away.” He responds, the hurt evident in his slightly quivering voice.

Her eyes had begun to burn at this point.

“Gale… it isn’t you. Truly,” she cringes at her own words, realizing how it sounded. “I just— there is a lot on my mind right now, and I don’t want to burden you with any of it. That’s all.”

It wasn’t a lie, at least not entirely. There was a lot on her mind— even if most of it pertained to a certain brown eyed wizard who happened to be standing in her doorway, looking like that. 

His eyes find hers in the dim candlelight, searching them for something, anything that could answer at least one of the myriad of questions he wanted to but couldn’t muster the nerve to ask.

The pale blue moonlight filters in through the large window on the other side of the room, almost haloing her and basking her in an ethereal glow. 

“It’s not a burden if it’s taken on willingly,” he contests, taking one tentative step toward her. “I care for you, Elara.”

If the room had been any quieter, she swears the sound of her heart booming through the smaller space would be deafening. “It’s not important. You have many other things to concern yourself with, I don’t expect you to—”

“The only thing concerning me presently is—” he pauses. You, is what he wants to say, but can’t seem to wrench it out of himself. “What is important to you is important to me. I meant it when I said that we work better as a team, you and I.” 

How this man has not been wed yet, is beyond madness to her.

“Gale…” it comes out more as a plea, as she feels her resolve to maintain composure weakening bit by bit as the conversation continues. She was exhausted, physically and mentally, and her heart had been through enough strain in one day. 

His shoulders sink. This was one of several attempts now that he’d made to break down the walls she had built up, and he was beginning to feel more like the villain rather than the hero coming to rescue the trapped maiden from her tower. 

“I do apologize. I fear I have overstepped once again. Here may be a good place to leave this conversation for now. I’ll let you rest.” He resigns, his words betraying the sullen expression he held. 

“Gale, no, I didn’t mean—” 

He holds his hand up to stop her. “It’s quite alright. Get some rest. Goodnight, Elara.” 

Before she can stop him, he turns to leave, pulling the door shut behind him. 

The room suddenly feels several degrees colder than it had prior to what had just occurred. She feels as though all of the oxygen had been sucked from her lungs and every bit of strength had been sapped from her body within a split second— emotional fortitude included, as tears that had been begging to be shed that she had been neglecting for longer than she could confidently say finally began to fall, slipping down her cheeks and wetting the collar of her night shirt. 

Her head falls back as she makes eye contact with the ceiling once again, gaze finding a large crack just above where she stood. It looked fresh, almost. Like it had occurred within the last day or so. 

She wondered if he noticed it while he stood in the doorway. 

She wondered if he was in his room, staring at the ceiling of his own bedroom. 

“Goodnight, Gale.” She whispers into the darkness of the night.

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(lmk if you’d like to be tagged in the coming chapters :3)

[itselfromhell]

As I’ve previously mentioned, I wrote an article about lohsebille for uni and now that I’m doing a proper Sebille origin run I have some further thoughts that I wanted to share here regarding Sebille’s relationship with Tir-Cendellius and how it parallels Lohse and the demon’s relationship, along with some thoughts on my Sebille origin run (with lone wolves Lohse)

There’s very clear parallels between Lohse and Sebille’s relationships. Both have been taken advantage of by men in their lives and have had their bodies used and taken control of in an incredibly violating manner. but what’s especially interesting to me is how this cycle continues to be perpetuated in Sebille’s life.

First, she runs away from the Mother Tree and her role as a scion, which arguably, is not dissimilar to what happens in the future to her. She doesn’t have control or autonomy and is forced to engage with a cycle of violence. Then she is enslaved, and subjected to that horrifying trauma. But when she properly meets Tir-Cendellius, I was surprised to see this reiteration of the same cycle in her interactions with him, especially since I don’t think I’ve seen anyone talk about this before.

Tir belittles her and blames her for being enslaved. He treats her in the same manner, taunting her and branding her. When Sebille threatens to mark his name on her wrist and kill him, he brands his name on her for Sebille in the most painful way possible. Then the emotional whiplash ensues as he declares her his champion and swaps his name for her own, claiming that she is her own owner now. This is incredibly reminiscent of Lohse’s interactions with the demon and how he flips between praise and belittlement.

I was shocked mainly because Tir’s reaction is so different to what I experienced playing a custom elf character previously.

I do not know as much about this, but from what I have read, Ifan also has a terse relationship with Rhalic, partly due to his transracial adoption into an elven tribe (I think?) I don’t know much about this so I’m curious if anyone else does.

Finally, I’ll add that in a conversation I had with someone, they pointed out that Sebille has decided to stop running away from her past whereas Lohse still does. I think that this is true to an extent, though now playing her origin I see a lot more of her fear and dread regarding her whole story, things she holds close to her chest.

Sebille appears cold and calculated but her motives are purely emotional, and she hides this from the world to protect herself. But in her romance she slowly starts opening this up more. In many ways her pain and trauma are a large part of how she presents herself, she doesn’t hide it, but she presents it in a rather curated way, as opposed to Lohse, who tries to completely hide it and fails.

Anyway, felt the need to get some 2am thoughts about this game out. Curious to hear other perspectives on this.

[shepherds-of-haven]

What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding? For Blade please?

We see a little bit of this between him and Chase in Chapter 7, but the Ket take insubordination/disobedience against authority/dereliction of duties extremely seriously and personally: it's not just a, "oh he's just a rebel in general, that's just how he is and don't take it too personally," it's a "that was a direct challenge to you personally and the affront must be shut down with immediate and brutal force with extreme prejudice so it will never happen again" or absolute chaos will ensue. Basically any direct disobedience is perceived as "do not stand for it or you could lose everything" alarm, because that's what Khehi Ket are taught; if you have a society of super-powered warriors who are all military-trained, insanely strong, and used to using casual violence and bloodshed as ways of solving problems, you need (or think you need) extremely iron-clad and rigid rules to hold it all together and keep order, or literal civil wars could and do break out. Ket history is riddled with examples of this: bypassing a superior's orders to not instigate bloodfeud with a rival family who slandered yours, for example (putting your own feelings/family reputation over service to the state), led to incredibly bloody social conflicts and sometimes all-out massacres, extinguishing of prominent clans, etc. So unquestioning obedience to authority is considered paramount, and failure to demonstrate this is met with immediate and unflinching action to nip that shit in the bud real quick. Blade is trying to untangle this hardwired instinctive response, but he still does believe that leaders shouldn't be too 'close' with their subordinates to maintain this kind of authority for this reason, which is why he tends to remain aloof and keep his distance from the lower ranks. But that's also why he's trying to compensate with having other leaders supplement his perceived intimidating status with the recruits and the laypeople, and also why he sometimes questions if he should be more like Trouble (who 'gets along' with the recruits and is considered much more approachable, although he still maintains authority over them) as a leader, or if he's trying to make a square peg (his style of leadership, personality, and what he was taught) fit into a round hole (a military order that is not rooted in Ket ideology, customs, and culture)!

Hope that all makes sense!

[animemakesmeanxiouss]

You don't know how you got here. Or why you were even doing this.

Bakugou has always been such a cocky jerk to everyone, ESPECIALLY you. Ever since you met in your sophomore year of college with his major and your minor in hero studies colliding, he's been the biggest pain the in ass.

So why was it that in this very moment, he was so deep inside of you you thought you might break? You'd just grabbed his hand in the dining hall at the hero ranking ceremony and ran with him to the 2nd floor restroom where you knew nobody would be and the moment you turned to face him, he slammed you against the wall and his teeth were already on your neck. Biting so hard, it'd be no surprise if the skin broke but God, it felt amazing. Then he switch up from just biting to kissing, and sucking. His rough hands adjusted themselves under your thighs so he could pick you up better. Slowly, one of them wound up under your chin, forcing you to look into his ruby red eyes where you could see the ferocious lust inside of them that make your insides stir.

"Just a one time thing, never to be spoken of again, huh," he mocked. Remembering the words you said to him at your most recent sexual encounter.

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You two had been arguing about your recent spar session, where he had played dirty, the fucker, considering he used his quirk when the instructor had said this was preparation for close hand-to-hand combat should you ever find yourselves in a situation where a villain is able to cancel out your quirks, similar to Eraser. The argument ensued all the way back to the changing rooms, with your friends laughing at the two of you bickering until you went your separate ways and shower.

"God, that guy is such a giant dick!" You shouted in frustration.

"Yeah, but I bet he can back it up," your friends joked. You rolled your eyes at them as they were always thinking about dumb things like dick size when it came to fancy hero types including their hotheaded sidekicks, all because they gained some notoriety.

You had to wait your turn to get a shower and you ended up being the last one in the locker room when you finally got a chance, so you'd have to be in charge of locking up and leaving the key in the deposit box at the front office. The warm water soothing your aching muscles, while also highlighting where the worse bruises were going to appear the following morning.

You heard the door open about 5 minutes after you got into the shower, when all of the other girls should've been long gone.

"Did you forget something?" You asked, waiting to see who would respond.

"Uh, yeah! Left my deoderant in my locker, silly me," said Yaoyarouzu, "Sorry for the bother!"

The was odd, Momo was incredibly meticulous. Couldn't she have just...created another one? You shrugged it off though, even the greatest of minds can be forgetful. You heard her leave, and that was that, on with washing off the dirt and sweat from moments prior.

You finished washing your hair and once you had lathered the body wash all over you, there was a giant SLAM of the door, making you jump.

What the fuck was that? Surely not Momo again?

You heard loud stomping getting closer and a thousand scenarios were running through your head. First one being, you're naked. You hope to hell you don't have to fight naked. The towel was hanging outside the shower stall and your clothes were waiting in your locker. The only thing you had on were shower shoes, how were you gonna get out of this one?

Suddenly, the shower current swung open with such violence that a strong breeze hit you and before you could react, you were pinned against the cold shower wall.

"Where the fuck did you put my clothes?" the angry voice growled.

You slowly opened your eyes, which you didn't even realize had been shut, to reveal Kaatsuki Bakugou. As you realized what was going on, you went from scared for your life to downright pissed.

"Why the fuck would I know where your clothes are?"

"Because the only ones left on campus are you and me, and you've been on my ass since sparring so you took them to make yourself feel better about getting your ass whooped!"

You gave him an incredulous look. You did NOT get your ass whooped, he played dirty. Also, what stupid reasoning, Momo left not too...long...ago. That bitch, she set you up?!

"Well?! Answer me?!" he demanded, his arms still pinning yours against the tile.

But first, there was a situation that needed to be addressed, and the water was going to go cold.

"Bakugou, you know I'm naked, right?" His brow furrowed, and he looked down to realize what his blind temperament had gotten him into. His face flushed the slightest bit as he stared a moment longer, then brought his eyes back to your face. It made you feel insecure, and the cold air wasn't helping considering the way your body was reacting.

"Well, so am I and it's going to stay that way until you get my clothes from wherever you stashed them." His eyes felt intense on your face, and you realized he was trying not to look down at your body again but it seemed like he was struggling quite a bit. You rolled your eyes and felt a small growl come from his throat.

"Well, at least let me grab my towel so I can help you look. Someone came in for a bit and then left, I'm guessing they're the ones who set this whole thing up."

"Yeah, maybe," as he turned to exit the stall then stopped, "Wait a second. Do you think I'm stupid?"

"What?"

"If I get you a towel, you're just going to run off with my clothes AND yours and I'm going to be stuck here."

"Dude, seriously? You are covered by a towel, you expect me to just stand here in nothing?"

"I expect you to tell me where my clothes are so I can get the hell outta here!" Oh my god, this man was stubborn as all hell. But clearly, he's not going to let you get dressed until he does and the bastard won't even let you cover up. So you did the most logical thing you could think of.

You ripped off the towel from around his hips. He growled, and while the original plan was to wrap it around yourself, his pounce made you decide to roll it up quickly and throw it into another shower stall all the way down.

Right as the cloth left your hands, you felt his body ram into you from the front and your back pounded again the tile wall again. Not enough to hurt, just enough to make you fully aware that you were now in a very compromising position between the wall and his body.

His rock, hard body that was pressing against you in ways that made your insides swirl. The frustration of your conflict and the intense pressure between you was making you both pant.

"Fuck," he muttered, and just as you were about to ask him how he liked being in your predicament now, you felt it.

The pressure you felt between your bodies was now growing, even moreso against your right leg and inching towards your center. Yours eyes looked up to meet his and there was a whole new kind of frustration brewing in them. One that you felt inside of you as well.

He slowly leaned his head down to bring his lips to yours and you, surprisingly, didn't hesitate. You cupped his head in your hands and massaged his lips with your own. He didn't have a specific taste to him, but it was like his lips and his tongue carried a sort of spice to them.

As he continued to kiss you, you felt his left hand slowly glide up from your hips to your waist, then your breast. His thumb caressed the most sensitive part of you that had already been affected by the cold earlier, so you couldn't help but let out a soft, breathy moan. He did the same with the other, and soon his hands were exploring your breasts with a gentle kind of roughness and his lips were on your neck. Biting, kissing, sucking on the skin.

Great, more bruises from this guy to show up tomorrow. Would it make sense to cover them up just on my neck

Before you realize it, he wasn't just using his mouth on your neck anymore. You felt the combination of his thumb on your right nipple, followed by his tongue soon after, repeating the same thing he was doing on your neck for several minutes shooting pleasurable chills down your spine, and then working on the other. While this was happening, one of his hands abandoned your breast and went back down, sliding between your thighs. You felt two fingers slide inside of you, making you gasp and he slowly pushed them in and out.

"You ready?" his gravelly voice, even moreso, as he mumbled against your jaw, "You're soaking wet."

You didn't want to say anything, afraid the words would give away how weak you were under his touch, so you just nodded.

"Say it." This asshole.

"Yes," you said, your voice cracking in the process. You felt his lips curve up before he pulled your lips to his and devouring you intensely, before he picked you up.

"I won't be gentle," he chuckled before you felt him thrust into you with the utmost force, it made you cry out in shock and pleasure.

You had already been so close to the edge, and as you matched his you felt the intensity building with every movement. You could feel his abs push into you with every breath and grunt he made while his biceps felt like they were hugging you as he held you.

Your legs wrapped around him securely as he readjusted your position to make sure you don't fall. This time it was you who pulled his face to yours as it was the only power you had in this situation, kissing him with all your might and both of you moaning into it, causing him to speed up and both of you so out of breath and feeling your insides ready to explode. Finally, right as you reached the edge he bit into your neck again, forcing you to fall apart over and over again while he messily pushed through it for his own eruption, causing you both to slide down the wall, holding eachother as if you wouldn't see tomorrow, until you met the floor, gasping for breath.

After a few moments trying to recover, he helped you stand up and deciding to shower again and clean up whatever mess you made, before he grabbed both your towel and his to cover yourselves up should there be unexpected visitors in the locker room who snuck in during your loud activities. You opened up your locker and found that Momo did, in fact, set you up by putting his clothes in there and before you could retrieve it yourself, you felt his chest press against your back as he reached in himself and recovered them.

"Looks like it wasn't just your friends who set you up," he murmured as he pulled away and started getting dressed.

You gave him a confused look, to which he responded by unrolling his t-shirt, from which a long silver thread fell out of and onto the floor.

Condoms. Lots of condoms. A gift from Kirishima, no doubt.

Your face turned red and he smirked, mocking your shyness after what had just occurred.

"This is just a one time thing, never to be spoken of again, got it?"

"Sure, princess. I'll leave these in your locker though, I don't need them. I doubt you will either, though, being the prude that you are."

"Asshole," you grumbled, not caring if he could hear but turning beet red when his words confirmed he could, and did.

"We can try that position next time," he winked, before tossing you his jacket and walking you back to the university dorms.

[alovesongtheywrote]

nightmare academia puts me through the ringer EVERY TIME and i love it

♥ Summary: in a few chapters, it's gonna get worse!! for now tho... In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, case stuff ensues and you prepare for heartbreak. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: cops. cops being terrible, cops exploiting the system, and cops shaming a woman for being a sex worker. also, violence, implied violence, and past violence.

♥ A/N: holy shit, this chapter is Very Long

♥ Word Count: 4885

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

In the weeks that followed, Spencer brought the BAU to you.  Of course, not everyone could make it.  Kate Callahan was off raising her children.  Penelope Garcia was the target of several  hitmen (whereas Frank was probably the target of a single hitman.  Massive difference.  Trust me.)  And Derek Morgan remained at Quantico with Garcia- so you really weren’t sure what to expect.  The agents you had the strongest feelings about were out of commission.  The last time you’d met his team it did not uh, how would you put it?  End well?  So you were- justifiably- a touch guarded.

That changed. Eventually.

It started with Adam.  

At that point in the investigation, local law enforcement had only shown your friend cruelty, distrust, and skepticism.  Honestly?  You were about to start biting people about it.  (Yeah, maybe it would have gotten you arrested, but at that point, you did not care.  At the very least, biting would make you feel productive.)  You were well and truly prepared for Spencer’s law enforcement team to behave in a similar manner to the local cops- and to be honest, you probably should have been.  Most Feds would carry that same suspicion and distrust, and if they didn’t they were probably faking it to try and get a confession.  

The BAU, however, are not most Feds.  For several reasons.  Either way, you were well and truly prepared to maul the next person who treated your friend like garbage, fed or otherwise.  There was never a need.

The BAU showed Adam basic decency.  They didn’t talk down to him or dismiss him as a demeaning stereotype- and yes, that was the barest of bare minimum, but it was still something.  While they regarded him with mild suspicion for the first like, two minutes, it only took the team that same two minutes to come to the conclusion that Adam was innocent.  After that, the BAU was just as dedicated to clearing Adam’s name as you were.

“Adam had an incredibly emotional response when we mentioned Frank,” Hotchner explained to the local detectives, “He’s genuinely devastated by what happened.  He couldn’t have done this.  Even if he did attack Frank, it wouldn’t have been a clinical hit.”

“Emotions tend to make things messy- we would have seen something much more personal, with more violence and more remorse,” Rossi added.

The detectives did not listen.  The detectives did not care.  

“I’d say a gunshot wound is pretty messy,” one laughed.

“Yeah,” another jumped in, “Try telling the vic’ that things aren’t messy.”

You bit your tongue to keep from screaming, but you didn’t stay entirely silent.  If the detectives weren’t going to give a shit on their own, then you were going to make them.

“Have you actually?” you asked, crossing your arms, “Have you spoken to the victim?”

“Eh, someone else got around to it,” the first detective asked, looking at his partner with the special kind of uncertainty that came with getting called out.

“Did you read the report, then?”

“Well, I’m on the case, aren’t I?”

“Answer the question, detective.”

In the telling silence that followed, Rossi had to turn away to hide his (failed) attempt to suppress a grin.  Hotchner looked proud, despite not knowing you very well.  Spencer looked like he might grab you by the waist and kiss you until you were out of breath.  He didn’t, though, for lots of reasons- his boss was there, he hadn’t asked you if you’d like to be kissed, there was more serious stuff to focus on, and like… you already looked fucking pissed.

The detectives just looked embarrassed.  

“I- uh.  I’ve skimmed it,” the first detective stuttered out.

“Yeah, cool, not good enough,” you nabbed the case file from a nearby desk and pressed it into the officer’s hands, “Consider reading the report.  You’ll find that the victim disagrees with you.”

Both detectives stared at the file as if they were seeing it for the first time- as if they were seeing a file for the first time.  You sighed.

“Detective, if I may ask, how much overtime have you put in on this case?”  the man in front of you blanched at your question.  You would’ve laughed if you weren’t so fucking angry, “Cool.  I thought so.”

“Ough,” Rossi winced with faux sympathy, “Overtime?  And you haven’t even read the case file?”

“Hey, we’ve been very busy these last few weeks!”

The second officer nodded, “Just last week, we had five break-ins in the downtown area.”

“Alright, I’ll accept that,” you turned to leave before doubling back, “But before I go, I need to ask- do you care about the wellbeing of the break-in vics the way you care about this case?  Do you care about all victims so dearly?  Or do you treasure their testimony the way you “treasure” the testimony in this case?”

“What?  What are you saying, what do you-”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume it’s the latter.”  

“What?  Okay, what the hell do you know about police work-!”

“They’re an expert criminologist,” Spencer said, seething slightly.

“Dr. Reid is right.  I know a thing or two about crime- and if I’m just gonna put it this way.  I’ve seen the data.  I’ve heard testimony from victims and offenders.  I know the local and nationwide statistics for unreported crimes.  You’re concerned about the victim hearing that his case isn’t messy?  Look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve never told a victim that their situation- their serious situation- was a waste of police time.”

The officers couldn’t look at your face, much less your eyes.  You had done what you needed to do.

“You wanna solve crimes?  You wanna be the hero?  Then take a goddamned ethics class, read your fucking case files, care for your community, and do your fucking job.”

The detectives tried in vain to defend themselves.  They were unsuccessful- especially in the face of the three FBI agents that immediately backed you up.

“Dr. (L/N) is right.  The number of unreported crimes will astound you,” Rossi said, smirking like the little shit that we all know he is.

“This is especially prevalent with sexual assault cases, theft and scams, and other crimes where the victim may feel a sense of embarrassment- or crimes where the victim feels like their case won’t be taken seriously,” Spencer added in a very Spencer-like way.

“And everything you need to know about this crime is in the file.  If you’d read it, you’d know that the victim is very insistent that your guy didn’t do it, and one could say that, oh, I don’t know, he’s a strong eyewitness.  He is the victim and all,” Rossi continued, getting their asses.

They struggled to respond, “Well- I-  We-”

“And even if you discount the eyewitness testimony, there’s still the matter of alibis and ballistics.  Security cameras have placed Adam away from the community center at the time of the shooting.  The ballistics aren’t a match to any weapon that Adam has ever come into contact with.  Even if they were a match, he hasn’t handled a weapon since his release from prison as a condition of his parole.  But if you had checked the file, you’d know that,” Hotch added, also smirking like a little shit, but with a slight edge to it- that edge, kids, is called “pissed off authority figure.”

“Hey, it-”

“It just sounds like poor police work to me,” Spencer had the biggest smirk of all- the smirk of a little shit who’s proud of his team and of his hot co-professor, “Had you actually done any of your research, you would realize that the suspect you have in custody is being held on police bias and circumstantial evidence.  Any good lawyer can get this case thrown out, and then where will you be?”

His smirk turned to a full grin when you shot him a small smile of your own.

The detectives continued to sputter out responses.  For once, the second one spoke, “Now, we may not be fancy FBI agents, but this precinct has a solid track record of convictions-”

“Were those convictions based on circumstance and bias?” Neither detective answered Spencer’s question.  He continued, “Even if this precinct had a perfect track record, that wouldn’t make it invulnerable to mistakes- and even if it did, you would still have the responsibility of approaching each case like professionals to ensure the wellbeing of victims, suspects, and families.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” you slid forward, putting a hand on Spencer’s arm, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to go speak with the victim.  His name is Frank, by the way.”

And just like that, you pulled Dr. Spencer Reid away- and he did not resist in the slightest.  In fact, he held the door open for you as you exited the precinct.  Rossi was pretty sure he saw the kid get behind the wheel.

As the detectives scurried away with their tails between their legs, the older agent let out a long whistle.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that our young Dr. Reid is officially smitten.”

“He was smitten the last time we were here,” Hotch said, pulling another copy of the case file from seemingly nowhere- one of his many unit chief powers.

“Yeah, yeah, but this time it’s bad.  Garcia’s gonna be mad that she didn’t get to see it.”

Hotch nodded, solemnly.

“Y’know, I think the three of them combined could probably take down the whole FBI.”

“You’re right,” Hotch snapped the file closed with a tiny little proud-dad-type smile, “We’re awfully lucky that they’re focused on something else at the moment.”

-

Missy got your guard to drop further.

Initially, she was hesitant to have the Feds drop in on Frank’s case- you both were.  You were used to local law enforcement treating her like shit.  You didn’t stand for it- every time a cop or lawyer so much as dared to look at her wrong, you bared your teeth like a damn dog and threatened to bite where it would hurt.  Y’know.  Lawsuits.  Missy wasn’t exactly a pushover, either.  She was one of the strongest people you knew, and you were well aware that she could hold her own.  If Missy wanted to be scary, she could be fucking terrifying.

Still, it was a little exhausting to fight all these battles against people in positions of authority who were so convinced that their series of events was correct, and anyone who went against it was nothing more than a lying ex-con.  Having the BAU in your pockets certainly helped with that.

“I already told you what happened.  I’ll tell you a thousand more times if I have to, but the story isn’t going to change,” Missy groaned, voice muffled as she buried her face in her hands.

“Okay, then.  We’ll go over your testimony again.  A few more times, if you don’t mind,” One of the local detectives smirked, ignoring the death glare you sent her way.

“Fine.  Frank was walking me to the community center.  I was taking a class on resume writing.  It was cloudy, not raining, but cold.  We came around the side of the building when a man in a leather jacket walked around the corner.”

“And what did this man do?”

“He- he shot Frank.  He tried to kill my-” she took a shaky breath.  You put a hand on her arm, aiming for gentle comfort and reassurance.  Missy nodded, letting you know you’d hit your target.

“Did you see his face?” The officer continued.

“No.  He was wearing one of those bike helmets that block off the person’s eyes- but I swear, it wasn’t Adam.  This guy was too bulky.  Adam’s made of wires, he needs to eat more.”

“You seem to have a lot of affection for Adam,” the detective leaned forward, “Now, we know you’ve claimed to be in a relationship with Frank- but could you describe your relationship with Adam for us?”

“I already said it!  I took a couple classes with him!  He’s a friend, that’s all.”

“Mhmm.  That’s all.  And in your previous line of work- the one that earned you a prison sentence of twelve months and a little over minimum wage- you had a lot of ‘friends,’ yes?”

“Excuse me?” your fingers bit into the table that separated you from the cop.  You had half a mind to jump over the thing and throttle the smug detective sitting before you.  

“What?” Missy growled, “You think just because I used to hook I fuck all my friends now?  I’ve taken a few classes with Doc (L/N), I haven’t fucked them!”

You nodded in solemn agreement.  The detective shrugged this off, ignoring everything that came out of Missy’s mouth.  When she spoke again, her voice rang with the faux pity of someone who held themselves leagues above Missy.

“You know, I can see why you were looking at writing up a resume- your old line of work is so degrading.  You know you’re never the same, afterwards.  You can never wash off the shame.  You’ll always be a little broken.  A little-”

“Okay, that’s enough-” you stood up, slamming your hands down on the table.

“Hey, fuck you, man-” Missy leaned forward, “Don’t tell me what hooking did to me.  You don’t know me.  You don’t fucking know.”

“And now you’re lashing out.  Poor thing-”

“Detective Foy.  A word,” Tara Lewis, a newer BAU agent who you hadn’t really had the pleasure of meeting materialized in the doorway like a perfectly timed ghost, ready to right some wrongs and keep you from committing a murder.  Her request for a word was perfectly intimidating, disclosing the not-so-secret secret that the request itself was not actually a request.  

“I’m sorry, Agent, I’m in the middle of an interrogation-” 

“It’s not an interrogation.  You’re questioning a witness.  Agent Jareau will handle things from here.  Now, a word?”

You and Missy watched as the detective slunk out of the room with her tail between her legs.  Moments later, JJ joined you, but she didn’t bother to start a line of questioning.  Instead, the three of you watched in giddy silence as Tara Lewis destroyed Detective Foy where she stood.  You couldn’t hear her through the glass, but you could vaguely read the words, “You are a police officer meant to serve and protect the people in your community, and uphold the law.  You should educate yourself on the law, and on what it means to serve and protect.”  On her lips.

You could’ve been off on that translation, but either way, it was sick as fuck.  By the time Tara was finished, you and Missy were barely holding back your laughter.  You probably would’ve held it in if JJ hadn’t turned around with a pleased grin on her face.

“Ok, well, I’ve known Agent Lewis for about three minutes, and already I adore her,” you cackled.

“Oh, she’s excellent,” Missy said, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Well, we certainly like her,” Jennifer grinned, clearly proud of her teammate and happy to see that someone outside the BAU had taken notice.

A few moments later, Tara re-entered the room with a tired sigh on her lips.  It didn’t take her long to realize that you were all staring right at her.

“What?  What is it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, we just think, as a group,” you looked around like you were the leader of the world’s weirdest (and maybe coolest?) group project, “That you are, objectively, excellent.”

“Yep.  Not bad for a Fed.”

Again, you nodded in agreement, “I concur.”

Tara raised an eyebrow, slightly confused, “Thank you?”

Missy gave Tara a thumbs up.  You followed her lead.  Not really knowing what else to do in this situation, and figuring there was no harm in joining the madness, Tara returned the thumbs up.

“Well, like we said, we’ll take over the questioning from here,” JJ took a seat as she spoke.  Tara joined her at the table.

“So, after Frank was shot, did you see where the attacker went?”

“No.  I was kind of focused on my partner bleeding on the ground.”

“That’s fair- but try to think back.  Did you see anything in your peripheral vision?  Did you hear anything?”

Missy paused for a moment, and when she spoke again, she still sounded lost in thought, “I heard a bike.  It makes sense with the helmet- I think it might’ve been a Yamaha?”  

“Wait, you can tell which brand a bike is by the sound?” you asked, not disbelieving Missy, but distracted by the new knowledge that a person could do such a thing.

“If you let me think about it, I could probably give you the make and model.”

“Holy shit, really?” your eyes were wide.  Your expression betrayed just how bewildered and impressed you were by vehicle knowledge.  It might’ve been basic knowledge, but fuck it, the author can’t drive.

“Oh, absolutely- different bikes make different sounds.  Cars are similar,” Tara nodded her agreement.

“You can tell cars apart by their sounds!?”

“Yeah?  Can’t you?” Missy turned to face you, slightly bemused.

“I can tell that they’re old?  Or like, electric, I guess?”

“Okay, when this is all over, I’m giving you a lesson.”

“I’d like to get in on that,” Tara added.

“Excellent!” Missy smiled, “Now everyone shut up and let me think.”

-

The way the BAU treated Frank dragged your guard down further.  They were gentle, but not dehumanizing or infantilizing.  They just treated him like a human person, and you found that neat, and more importantly, Frank found that neat.  

Also, the BAU laughed at Frank’s anecdotes and jokes.  I will be fully honest.  That was more of a relief to you, especially because a decent chunk of those anecdotes and jokes were about you murdering the shit out of Spencer Reid using nothing but your words.

It really started on that very first day, when you and Spencer had gone to visit Frank.  He could see it from his hospital bed- Spencer’s hand on your shoulder, the way Spencer was very clearly trying to comfort you from some unknown upset, and that was it.

Frank said, “Wow.  Those two have sure come a long way from Doc telling him to go die in a ditch.”

And JJ, who had been questioning him, choked on her coffee and wheezed out a, “What?”  

And that was pretty much it.  Frank explained that Spencer had pissed you off, you’d hit him with the “die in a ditch” thing, and he looked so sad that you literally forgave him the next day.  (He left out the bit about the stabbing, because stabbing doesn’t just kill people, it kills moods.)

From then on, Frank was the premium source of gossip on you and Spencer.  Of course, Missy got in on it, too.

When they told Rossi about the time you’d called Reid a “shit-licking asshole fed,” the agent laughed so hard that he literally couldn’t speak for a solid minute.  Was he a big fan of the anti-fed talk?  Not particularly.  But you had gone at it with such gusto, and with such anger, that he couldn’t help but cackle.  

You knew none of this, but you knew that everyone involved seemed happier after the BAU took the case.  That was good enough for you.

-

Your guard fell because of Spencer.

Wasn’t that always the way this was going to go?

While the BAU took care of your friends, Spencer took care of you.  He made sure you got home safe.  He kept you in the loop about everything case-relevant.  He made sure you remembered to eat, which was kind of hypocritical of him, but oh well.  He offered to drive you to and from the hospital, which was a fun kind of hell, because the man obeyed every traffic law ever made, but you got to bully him for it, so it all evened out in the end.  He distracted you from the nightmare you were living through by offering fun facts.  He made the nightmare better just by being him.  

And he was the one to get Adam out.  

He didn’t announce this victory to you.  He just showed up one day, at the hospital, following behind Adam as the newly freed man burst into Frank’s room.

“Frank!  Hey, are you good man?  I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, I would’ve been, but you know how it is with cops.”

“Shit, dude,” Frank beamed, “All things considered, I’m not too bad.”

“Holy shit, Adam?” you let out a hospital-appropriate screech.

“Oh my god,” Missy stood from her place at Frank’s bedside to give him a hug.  For a moment, she held him so tightly that it looked like Adam legitimately couldn’t breathe.

The moment she saw Spencer lingering in the background, she switched from one wire-shaped man to the next.  Spencer hugged her back politely, and then, in an instant, she was onto you.

“You sons of bitches did it!  You actually did it!”

“Did we?” you asked Spencer, lowering your voice as Missy, Frank, and Adam enjoyed their reunion.

“We did,” Spencer confirmed, stepping closer to you until you were side to side, whispering to each other to avoid disturbing your friends, “We found bank statements proving that this was a targeted hit, unrelated to Adam.  We’ve only been able to find the unsub’s side so far, but it won’t take us long to find whoever contracted him.” 

“Shit- that’s both really good and mildly fucking terrifying.”

“I know,” Spencer answered almost too quickly, but he covered it up just as fast, “But it means that Adam is a free man.  It’s almost over, (Y/N).”

You let out a small exhale, trying to maintain some semblance of calm, “Almost.  Thank you, Spence.  For all of this, for everything-”

“You don’t need to thank me.  It wasn’t just the new evidence.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, there was this local criminology professor, maybe you’ve heard of them.  They were incredibly insistent that law enforcement look deeper into the case, and because of them, the conviction vanished.”

A smile slipped onto your face as you turned to face him, “Was that a joke, Spence?  You’re doing ha-ha funny jokes now?”

“I’m saying you did a good thing, here, (Y/N).  Look,” he nodded towards the hospital bed, where your friends were talking, beaming, clinging to each other’s hands like they’d been shot, traumatized, and separated for months- which was an accurate summary, actually.

At your side, you let your hand slip into Spencer’s, weaving your fingers between his slender ones.  You felt his grip tighten, his palm pressed tightly to yours.  His hands were warm.

“We did a good thing,” you whispered.

You pulled him closer by the hand.  You weren’t harsh or forceful, but Spencer still stumbled into you with what can only be described as a somewhat lovestruck grin on his face.

And then his phone rang.

You watched his face fall as he answered it.  His fingers drifted away from yours.  You could almost hear Hotchner’s voice on the other end.  The call only lasted a few moments, but it changed everything.  The air in the room grew heavy.  The room fell silent.

“We found the unsub.  My team is confronting him now, I-” he paused.

“They want you to go with them.”

“I have to.”

A shaky breath escaped your lungs, and you were kinda pissed at it- how dare that shaky breath reveal how you actually felt?  How dare it break free from your body, alerting Spencer that your world had just spun out sideways for the millionth time that week.

You were gonna square up with that fucking breath.

But first, without saying another word, you nodded towards the door.  Spencer nodded back.  Like that, he was gone.  You watched him go.  You stared at the empty doorway after he’d left.   The room remained silent.

I mean, it did until it didn’t- your friends couldn’t watch that and say nothing.  I don’t think anybody could.

“Holy shit, you’re just gonna let him leave without saying goodbye?” Adam asked, looking between you and the door so quickly that you were almost surprised that his head didn’t fly off.

“He’s down bad,” Frank whispered, nodding in agreement, “Go get him.”

“I- he’s gonna be back in five minutes,” you tried to reason.  It didn’t work.

“He could be back never!  He might die!” Missy ran forward, gripping your shoulders.

“He’s got a bulletproof vest-”

“THERE IS SO MUCH THOSE THINGS DON’T COVER!!” Missy progressed to shaking you, slightly, “Go get him!  Hurry, before it’s too late!”

“I really don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“Tell him you’re also down bad!” Frank exclaimed, no longer whispering.

“Down bad-?  What the fuck does that even mean,” you said, your voice growing quieter and quieter as you left the room and headed down the hallway.

“... Y’know, they taught me what ‘down bad’ means.”

“Same.”

As your friends continued to discuss, you were already halfway down the hallway, walking as fast as you could given the hospital setting.  Spencer was nowhere to be seen and you really didn’t have time to look.  You really had one choice.  The elevators.

You reached them just in time to watch that lanky noodle motherfucker step inside.

Giving up on decorum, you raced through the hospital corridor, yelling out apologies at every human person you passed- fortunately there weren’t too many, so it wasn’t like you caused a massive disturbance.  Most people just thought you were having your rom-com finale moment.  Maybe some part of you was trying to, but honestly, you weren’t really thinking about it.  You were mostly just thinking, “Shit, shit, shit, I have to get in that elevator.”

And you did!  You made it!  You stumbled through the doors and came to a stop in the middle of that tiny box.  Spencer reached out to steady you, his expression letting you in on his amused confusion.  You smiled up at him, trying not to pant- and then you came to a realization.

You had no fucking clue what the hell you were going to say.

To be fair, what the fuck is a person supposed to say in that situation?  “Heyyyy, my friends think I’m in love with you, so now I’m here, wanna talk about that before you head into a dangerous situation involving a hitman and many guns?”

Or perhaps, “Hey!  You’re a good person even though I keep insisting you aren’t one, so I want you to know that you’re a good person before I send you off to get murdered!”

Or maybe, “You’re hot, I’m hot, wanna spend the next thirty seconds doing terrible things to this elevator that will get us forcibly removed from this hospital?”

Or even, “Hi, you just did a really nice thing for my friends, and I really appreciate it, and even though I don’t express it, I do care about you a lot, so maybe don’t die in the next few hours.  For me.  Please.”

In the end, you just settled for, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Spencer replied, not taking his hands from your shoulders even though you were more than steady, “Is everything okay?”

“Okay?  Yeah,  yeah, everything is, um.  Everything’s fine.  I just-”  you froze again, because seriously, what the fuck could you say right then and there?  What could you say that would let him know everything you wanted him to know?

“Are you sure?” he looked at you, held you with such delicate concern.  You kind of wanted to partake in elevator ruining activities with Spencer until the two of you got kicked out of the hospital together. 

“Yeah- yeah!  Everything’s- I’m okay, it’s just,” you raised your hand, letting it hover between the two of you for a moment before you placed it over one of his, “Come out of this alive.  Make sure everyone else does, too, but… come out of this okay, okay?”

Spencer hesitated.  And then he wrapped his hand around yours and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles ever so briefly.

“I will.  I promise.”

The elevator bell dinged.  You’d reached the parking lot.  Spencer let go of your hand with a different kind of hesitation.  

“I’ll see you soon,” he offered, “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Spencer disappeared into the parking lot, dashing out of sight and into danger.  You stood there, watching until the elevator doors slid shut and that infernal box pulled you back up again.  The humming metal lights above and the clanking metal around you harmonized into the perfect soundscape for your empty mind.

Spencer was heading into danger, as he always did.  You were returning to serve your community, as you always did.  Spencer might not come back, and you would always remain, and you realized that when the case was over, he would go back to Quantico with the BAU, and you probably wouldn’t see him ever again.

And it broke your heart a little bit.  Maybe more than a little bit.  A little bit, perhaps.

You were a long way from, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, go die,” indeed.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, @logicalhorror if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know!!

[yolowritter]

Lilanette Week: Body Swap!

Hello there everyone, and welcome back to my insanity! I ran into a few technical issues yesterday, hence the delay, but we're back now and you're getting double the Lilanette! It's a Win-Win, really! Anyway, I only have one more complete fic for this event and it's the Free Space on Saturday, but I figured I should still give you all the cliffnotes that @nicodemoon and I came up with! As an aside, this is a future au taking place sometime during their college years.

So, our story begins with Ladybug, and an Akumatized Villain! Do not ask me what their name is, I beg of thee. Naturally, they have the power to swap bodies between 2 targets, because Chrysalis is very smart. She's already forced the Akuma to blast her, and now only needs either Ladybug or Chat to get hit. Ladybug discerns this by the fact that no civilians are being attacked. Anyway, Chat tries to take the hit for her, but unfortunately...the Akuma just bashes him aside and blasts Ladybug anyway. Marinette opens her eyes to find herself in a dark, cramped place. The Parisian Catacombs, of course. Naturally she immediately notices that she's in Chrysalis' body and detransforms, running around to find a mirror. And when she does...Marinette has no idea who she's looking at. Yes this is inspired by that episode Flash and Lex Luthor from the animated series. Of course she asks Nooroo for the girl's name, but since she technically isn't his Holder, the poor Kwami just gets a case of bubble-mouth. Knowing she has limited time and that her own ID is most likely compromised, Marinette wracks her brain to figure out why this girl looks vaguely familiar. And then...she remembers! Because civilian!Chrysalis (lets say one of Lila's other identities) has actually met Marinette before! Where, you ask? In a bar of course, where she half-drunkenly asked her out on a date because she was pretty! At the time, Alya had been with Marinette so she didn't accept, but that's the memory that sticks out to her. Immediately after this, Ladybug blinks, finding herself back in her own body with the Miraculous Cure zipping through Paris. Chat compliments her for being incredible as always (possibly not having seen her get hit at all), but comments that she probably didn't need to take things as far as she did. We can assume that Lila-Bug went in the cartoonish violence direction to defeat the Akuma. Anyway, Ladybug goes home, anxious about Chrysalis possibly knowing her identity. In fact, she doesn't get a wink of sleep because of what happened last time (London Special). But in the morning, at 9am to be exact, her doorbell rings. Marinette isn't expecting anybody, so she holds her Miraculous close and goes to answer. Opening the door, she sees civilian!Chrysalis awkwardly standing there with a bouquet of flowers. She says hi and nervously asks Marinette on a date, which she accepts this time. End Fic!

Why does this entire thing happen? Because Lila wanted to find out Ladybug's identity. She's already developed a crush on Marinette, and this would be a bit funnier if we add a small beginning section with Lila ID #27 somewhere in the background. Something like attending a lecture in college, a coffee shop, you guys get the gist. Naturally, since her identity is compromised, Lila has nothing to lose and decides to shoot her shot with the local superheroine. Lilanette is presumed to ensue, and everyone is happy!

Obviously I didn't have time to write all of this in real fic format, but I still wanted to share what was drafted for this prompt. Shame I didn't get to make a fic because I think it's hilarious, but Saturday is much more important! Anyhoo, I'll see you all...in like 20 minutes with the Spooky prompt rant, similarly to this, but until then, Stay Miraculous everyone!

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

MISCOMMUNICATION: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have miscommunication! Check under the cut for 13 fics that range from hilarious to spicy as a result of not being able to properly communicate, and don't forget to comment and kudos if you like them!

displacement by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (12834, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Just after the peace talks and with no word from M9, Essek gets displaced into the future. Somehow this Caleb is travelling with Essek and love him.

Reccer says: I love how Essek thinks that future!Essek is deceiving the Nein, but no! They love him and forgive him!!

Indecency by RainDayDecaf (5898, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Six times Essek and Caleb accidentally engaged in romantic courtship, and one or two times when their friends helped out with the real deal.

Reccer says: This story has amazing characterization and does an excellent job of highlighting ways cultural differences create miscommunications (that may be fully intended in some cases). It’s great!

Just a Little Bit Longer, Love by Chanse (SpottedEnchants) (28738, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Meeting for the first time in months, Caleb and Essek spend the evening together cuddling and discuss their relationship.

Reccer says: They are trying so hard to communicate and words come out wrong and they love each other and I love them!!

I think of all the education that I’ve missed (but then my homework was never quite like this) by MarsBar2019 (15118, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek disguises himself and sits in on Caleb’s lecture. They flirt and take it to office.

Reccer says: Really hot roleplay and I love how Caleb is portrayed as a teacher!

OPERATION: HOT BOI LIBERATION (or: How I Spent My Spring Break in Rexxentrum, by Verin of Den Thelyss) by Catgirlthecrazy (6404, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Verin is sure he needs to rescue his brother from the empire wizard that must have kidnapped and mind controlled him.

Reccer says: I love seeing the m9 from an outsider's perspective. All of Verin's misunderstandings are hilarious. This makes great use of dramatic irony.

the wolves of my want by SaltCore (26071, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Set post campaign, through the trial, Aeor and Caleb settling in Rexxentrum. Essek pines while on the run trying not to bother Caleb or put the Nein in danger.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Sex Education by sociallychallengednerd (25487, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Caleb and Essek start dating, but it takes a while for either of them to notice

Reccer says: I love Caleb and Essek geeking out together. Jester and Essek's friendship is so sweet. All the modernizations fit so well. The references are so funny.

found the place to rest my head by glossolali (2717, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek doesn’t know how to comfort Caleb after destroying the T-dock.

Reccer says: Amazing hurt/comfort.

The Heart is Hard to Translate by CatgirlTheCrazy (6964, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Caleb’s voice is soft, yet paradoxically echoes around the space as if the salon has become a mausoleum. Essek shifts about uncomfortably. “Well—yes, I suppose that is a way to describe it.”

Reccer says: An incredible representation of an important conversation, and the miscommunications that can be rife within. One of my favorite fics and series ever!

Cradle Robbing by TheLordOfLaMancha (4409, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Yussa catches Caleb using dunamancy and wants to meet Essek. But after being introduced, Yussa has some concerns about Caleb and Essek's relationship. Misunderstandings abound.

Reccer says: This is so funny

An Evening To Remember by Interrobang (1755, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb both try to surprise each other. Hjinks ensue

Reccer says: I liked it!

The following two fics each received two recs!

eleventh hour by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (3486, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Thinking that it would be his last chance, Essek kisses Caleb at the Mighty Nein Goodbye Party.

Reccer 1 says: So soft and sweet! Reccer 2 says: It is so cute and sweet and classic m9 to forget who knows what.

Kiss Me Goodbye by LivThael (22450, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Modern AU where Caleb and Essek meet on a hookup app but things get messy when feelings get involved.

Reccer 1 says: I liked it! Reccer 2 says: I will eat anything with this setup with bread and butter but this is an especially great specimen. Misunderstandings and pining and hot sex, amazing

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with fics featuring Empire Sibs!