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chimcess · 25 days ago

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→ Chapter Eleven: Following Rivers Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 16.1k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: ANGST, strong language, PTSD, flashbacks, self-hate, self-depreciation, talks of death, everyone is going through it, getting to know some more characters, love-triangle, Jin is being kind of a dick, I promise we'll start seeing more Jimin as this goes on but he's just really depressed right now, Sam is a HUGE flirt, Kook is a vibe and I love him, Secrets to be reveled later, disabilities are going to be a huge part of Yoongi's life now and his arc so bear with a lot of that being in his povs, he's my favorite person in this series (so far, later you'll meet by baby for life), possibly wrong medical terminology, sexism and misogyny will be hinted at, everyone is going through it, lots of grief and heartache, Babyboy just wants his best friend back, mourning her life she's dead, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Thanks for reading <3

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Yoongi's POV

The night was too loud—everything was loud—like the world had turned up the volume just to drown me out. Crickets chirped incessantly, their sharp songs digging under my skin. Somewhere in the darkness, the witches chanted, their voices twisting together like secrets I wasn't supposed to hear. I sat on the porch, my fingers tracing the worn grooves in the wood. It used to calm me when I was a kid. Now it just felt... empty. Everything did.

The stars above were a blur, smudges in a sky that once looked like magic. Now it was just a cruel haze—a kind of blindness that let me glimpse shapes and light but never enough to truly see. The battle with the elves had left me like this. Half-blind, half-alive. And I didn't know which half was worse.

My porch used to be our refuge. I could almost hear Y/N beside me—her laughter mingling with the fireflies dancing around us in Moland. But I couldn't picture her smile anymore, and that hurt more than anything else. Her memory was slipping away along with my vision, leaving only empty outlines where something bright used to be.

There was a party going on somewhere in the yard. The witches were celebrating Wendy's new role as head witch and our recent win against the elves. We would've done it sooner, but after Cordelia's death, any idea of joy felt wrong. I thought it was still too soon for something like this, but Wendy seemed up for it, and Jin went into full planning mode the moment she smiled. Their laughter and shouts made my head hurt. Some of them had offered to hang out with me back here, but I didn't want the company.

Pretending to be happy with near strangers wasn't something I could do.

I heard footsteps approaching—slow, hesitant. It was my mother. She didn't say anything at first, but I felt her warmth beside me. I avoided looking at her; everything looked like an old black-and-white film from Northorn, and it broke my heart every time I saw her without color. "Yoongi," she said softly, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. So light it was almost not there. But it was. Everything felt heavy now. "How are you holding up?"

I exhaled, the sound shaky. "I'm not," I finally said, the words coming out more bitter and broken than I intended. "I don't even know why I should try to hold on anymore."

Her hand tightened on my shoulder. "We've been through so much," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "But we're still here, Yoongi. That means something."

Does it? I thought. I didn't say it, but the weight in my chest felt suffocating. Carrying it another day seemed impossible, and the thought made me want to scream. "I miss her," I whispered instead, your name lodged in my throat. "She always knew what to do."

My mother sighed, her fingers brushing my arm. "She did," she agreed quietly. "But she wouldn't want you to carry this alone. You've still got people who care about you. Jin—"

I flinched at his name, cutting her off. "He doesn't need me. Not when he has Wendy to think about."

"That's not true," she said firmly. "You don't have to do this alone, Yoongi. Let him help you."

"Wen's mom died," I reminded her.

"I understand that. Dee meant a lot to me. I've known her my entire life. But you're hurting, too," she replied thickly. "You've been doing your best to make him happy through all of this. He's just lost right now. Bring him back."

I stayed silent. The idea of reaching out felt impossible—a weight I wasn't ready to lift. The silence stretched between us, her hand on my shoulder more burden than comfort. "I'm tired," I muttered, leaning forward and resting my face in my hands. "I don't know if I can do this right now. Or ever."

I groaned, rubbing my eyes. The blur gave me migraines. "I don't think I can do anything anymore."

"You can," she insisted, her voice steady. "You're stronger than you think, and it's okay to let others be strong for you."

I didn't argue, but her words felt hollow. Letting people help me wouldn't prepare anyone for the war. Wouldn't fix the shining. I wanted to tell her how empty it all felt, how each day was a battle to find a reason to keep going. But what would that change? She couldn't fix this. No one could.

And the last thing I wanted was to worry my mother more than she already was.

Footsteps again—lighter this time. Wendy. Mom kissed my cheek, patted my shoulder, and headed back inside Mi-Jeong's house. If there was one good thing about staying here, it was how close Mom and Hoji had gotten with Jimin's mother. Even I had to admit I liked her. She made me laugh and went out of her way to make the house easier for me to navigate while we figured out a way to fix my eyes.

Once Ji-Hyun left to stay with Callisto's family just outside the gates, things got a bit quieter. Jin and I hadn't spoken much since everything settled; he was too busy helping Wendy take over as the head witch of her coven. Before Ji-Hyun left, we'd teamed up against the wolf a few times. His wife was the only reason we didn't confront him more.

Callisto was sweet and gentle, fiercely loyal to her husband and his whims. Ji-Hyun held a grudge against Y/N for reasons he wouldn't share. His wife, despite his silence, didn't let him off the hook if he even thought about saying something rude about her. He'd calmed down considerably before they moved out, but I had a feeling it was more for his mother's sake than any real remorse.

"Yoongi?" Wendy's voice cut through the thick silence, cautious. She stopped a few feet away, her figure a blur of gray against the darker gray of the night. "Are you okay?"

I almost laughed—a bitter, hollow sound. "No," I said flatly. "But I guess that's just how it is now."

She moved closer, her presence warm but almost suffocating. Everything was shades of gray, like the world had been drained of color. My eyes were still healing, leaving everything hazy and indistinct. "We're here for you if you need anything," she said, echoing my mother's words. "Jin and I—"

"Don't," I interrupted, my voice low and rough. "You know just as well as I do that Jin isn't here for me as long as you're around. So spare me the speech."

Her silence hurt more than any response could have. She sat beside me, her shoulder just brushing mine. I kept my gaze down; the porch beneath us was a washed-out gray, the wood grain barely visible through the blur. "He cares about you a lot, Yoongi," she said softly. "Even if it doesn't feel that way. Even when he's being... difficult."

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to feel something—anything. But all I felt was the same hollow ache that had settled in since that night. I nodded slightly, enough to make her think I was listening, but my eyes remained fixed on the indistinct, grey shapes at my feet.

Laughter drifted over from next door—too bright, too alive. It sounded out of place in this monochrome world. All I could do was sit there. It was so pathetic I wanted to cry.

"You know," Wendy said gently, her voice tinged with hope, "I've been trying to get him to talk to you more. Maybe if you put in a little effort, it could help. I know he misses you."

"Doesn't matter how much he loves and misses me," I muttered. "You're his top priority now, Wendy."

"But you should be, too," she insisted, her fingers lightly touching my arm. Her hand was a pale shade against the darker fabric of my sleeve. "Promise me you'll at least try?"

I nodded again, a mechanical gesture more for her benefit than mine. "Okay," I murmured, the word scraping out of my throat. "I'll... try." It was a lie, one I didn't even believe.

Wendy's hand rested on mine, warm against the cold that had settled into my bones. It should have been comforting, but now it was just... there. The lack of color made everything feel distant, unreal. Wendy had been a great comfort to me when we were younger, but now, after everything that happened, it just felt wrong. She shouldn't be here with me. If there was any hope that Jin and I could remain friends, she needed to stay as far away from me as possible.

But Wendy either didn't know or didn't care. When I talked to Jungkook about it, he said she was just naïve. Sam called her selfish. That made me laugh. It was something Y/N always said about her, too. I think everyone had at one point or another. Even Cordelia.

The name sent a shiver down my spine. It was ironic that I was calling Wendy selfish when her mother had died just weeks ago, and she was here comforting me. Jin was right. I was a bad friend who only thought about himself.

"You're not alone," she repeated, her voice steady.

I swallowed hard, my throat aching. Alone? I'd never felt more alone. Even with her beside me, it didn't change the hollow ache inside. The world around us was a blur of grays, shadows without definition. "I feel like I am," I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

"Don't say that," she said firmly. "You're still part of the family. You're still you."

Still me. What did that even mean anymore? The person I was before felt like a stranger. My fists clenched, the grainy image of my hands tightening in my lap. Frustration bubbled up. "Wendy," I began, my voice rough. "What if this is it? What if we never find a cure? What if I'm stuck like this forever? Then what?"

"Then we'd figure it out," she said softly.

"There is no 'we,'" I snapped, taking a deep breath to steady myself. The motion made the hazy edges of my vision swim. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice my outburst. "Mom would have to move back to Bangtan, and while everyone else is playing house, I'd be stuck as the blind cripple who needs his mommy."

"Don't talk about yourself like that," Wendy said sharply. "Even if it doesn't feel like it, you matter to us. You're still the most valued person here. What do you think everyone is celebrating right now?"

I stayed quiet. Her words didn't reach the part of me that felt like it had crumbled to dust. The grayscale world around me felt empty, lifeless. It was easier to retreat into the numbness, to hold onto the pain because at least it was familiar.

"You, Yoongi," Wendy's grip on my arm tightened. Her face was a pale blur, but I could sense the intensity in her gaze. "You single-handedly took down more elves than anyone here. You sacrificed your body for us. Why do you think Jin's being a jerk? He feels insecure and inadequate next to you. You've never known how incredible you are, have you?"

I wanted to tell her I hadn't, but I kept my mouth shut. We were treading dangerous ground, and I prayed no one else heard what she said. The sea coven was full of gossipers, and I worried Jin would hear about it. I didn't want to fight with him.

"Thank you," I whispered eventually, the words thin and weak. The night pressed down, the grayness seeping into everything. My thoughts drifted to Y/N—her laughter, her vibrant presence that seemed to bring color to everything. Without her, everything felt impossible. Without her, I felt... nothing.

I knew if she were here, I'd be doing a lot better right now. Y/N and I had a bond deeper than any other I'd ever had. Samanya was becoming a close second, but we had a few cultural differences that made it hard to get as close. She was also one of the most beautiful beings I'd ever seen, her image in my mind a vivid contrast to the muted world before me.

There were only two others who'd ever made me feel the same way: Delta and a man here I refused to acknowledge existed half the time. The impossibility of that relationship made it easier to pretend that just the sight of him didn't make my heart race. Like I didn't watch him like a stray dog hoping for scraps. He never noticed. Of course he didn't.

Wolves didn't practice homosexuality. When I asked Jungkook about it, he said it was viewed as a mental illness. Mates were for breeding, and a wolf who didn't want to continue the bloodline was so out of the ordinary they didn't think it could be natural. Y/N had explained something similar before, but she didn't know all the ins and outs like the young omega did.

"I miss her," I muttered, my chest aching. "She made it all easier."

Wendy's voice softened, her grief barely hidden. "We all miss her. But she wouldn't want us to stop living. She'd want us to keep going."

"Going where?" I asked, my voice cracking. "What's the point if everything just ends?"

"The point is we're still here," she said gently.

I didn't answer. The world around me was a sea of gray shadows, the party sounds muffled and distant.

"Yoongi," she said after a moment. "I know it's hard. I know you feel like you've lost everything. But you haven't. You're just... hurting right now."

I wanted to argue, but the fight was gone. I just sat there, staring into the hazy blur of a world I couldn't fully see, feeling like a stranger to myself.

The night stretched on, Wendy beside me—a flicker of warmth in the endless gray. I didn't know if I believed her, but for now, I'd let her stay. For now, I'd let myself breathe. It was all I could do.

Eventually, Wendy stood up, leaving me alone. The party was still in full swing, a large bonfire crackling, casting shifting shadows in shades of gray. A group of women gathered around it, their figures indistinct. I watched Wendy find Jin, saw the way she fit under his arm—their forms blending into one another in my blurred vision. Either he hadn't seen us or was choosing to ignore it.

I hoped it was the latter.

I leaned back against the rough wood of the porch, every nerve weighted down by a relentless exhaustion. It wasn't just my body that felt broken—it was everything. The world, my place in it, me.

I'd lost count of the nights spent like this—stranded in the dark, drowning in thoughts I couldn't escape. For the first time, I felt like I understood Y/N's nightmares. When they were at their worst, I'd sleep in her bed to wake her up, and she'd spend hours telling me how horrible and guilty she felt for being so angry and upset all the time. She never called herself a burden, but now that I was in her shoes, I knew that's what she meant.

I knew she was fine and alive out in Lustra somewhere, but it didn't stop my mind from mourning her as harshly as I'd mourned Cordelia at her memorial service on the shores of Syrena. Maybe even more. I loved Wendy's adoptive mother, but I didn't know her as well as I should have. Y/N was my best friend, and her absence was gnawing away at whatever sanity I had left.

Minutes—maybe hours—dragged by, each one heavier than the last, until the soft sound of footsteps cut through the quiet. They were barely there, and if my ears weren't so tuned in to what was happening around me, I wouldn't have heard them at all. Then I caught the faint scent of mist and wet grass. I knew who it was before she spoke.

Minutes—maybe hours—dragged by, each one heavier than the last, until the sharp sound of footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. They were barely audible, but I'd become attuned to every little noise. Then I caught the faint scent of mist and wet grass. I knew who it was before she spoke.

"Mind if I sit?" Sam's voice was brisk. When I looked up, her face was a pale oval against the darker grays of the night. I wished I knew what color her eyes were. They were the only thing I wasn’t confident in my guesses about. They were light, but I could not tell you what shade they really were. She'd always been beautiful, but tonight there was something different—something that made me appreciate her even more.

Her eyes were a soft gray, her hair a dark shadow framing her face. I knew that if I ever got my full sight back, she'd be even more striking. But for now, it was nice to be around someone when appearances didn't really matter. She didn't seem to mind helping me navigate or putting up with my bad moods, either.

Sam was nearly perfect. It was just too bad I had someone else in mind when we weren't together.

Those dimples were so deep I could make them out from the porch anytime he walked by...

"Go ahead," I muttered, nodding toward the spot Wendy had left.

She settled beside me with an ease that felt out of place next to my stillness, her energy humming softly between us. "You look like hell," she said bluntly. "What's got you in pieces this time, Yoongi?"

I let out a hollow laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "This time?" I echoed, shaking my head. "It's always the same stuff." I gestured vaguely at the night—at nothing and everything. "Take your pick."

Her smirk faded slightly, and for a moment, I thought she might soften—but Sam wasn't the soft type. She never sugarcoated things, never pretended it would all be okay. Part of why I didn't push her away like I did the others. Yet, anyway. I'd already drawn the line about romance with her in my head, but I knew I was weak, and she made me feel comfortable. She reminded me so much of Delta...

No, I couldn't go there.

"Yeah, it's bad," she agreed, her voice steady. "But sitting here feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to change anything." She leaned closer, her breath warm against my cheek. "Staring at them will make Seokjin angry, you know."

I snapped my eyes away from the fire. I hadn't been looking at Jin or Wendy, but it wouldn't surprise me if Jin thought I was. He'd become more paranoid and distant these days.

I turned to her, bitterness bubbling up, unable to hold it back. "What do you want from me, Sam?" I didn't care if it made her uncomfortable—she'd chosen to sit here.

Then I felt bad again. That wasn't fair.

Sam didn't flinch. If anything, her gaze sharpened, unwavering and direct. "You think you're the only one feeling this?" she asked, her voice low. "You're not. We're all carrying it, Yoongi. The war, the losses, the uncertainty—it's wearing us all down."

"Then why don't you look like it?" I snapped, my fists clenching. "Why do you still act like there's something worth fighting for?"

"Because the alternative is giving up," she said simply. "And I've seen what that looks like. It's worse than this."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Doesn't sound so bad right now."

She was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice held a rare gentleness. "You're not the first to feel that way. And you won't be the last. But giving up? It doesn't end the pain, Yoongi. It just spreads it. You think Wendy's okay? Or Namjoon? Or the rest of us?" She paused. "We're barely holding it together. But we're still here. And so are you."

The mention of his name made my pulse quicken, and Sam knew it. She only brought him up to get a rise out of me. Her spending time with him didn't help. The thought of both of them together—breathless, naked, sighing—was the first thing that had truly distracted me all day.

He was so... captivating.

I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes—not that it mattered. Everything was just as hazy and muted as before. It was better at night. I could see things a little clearer. The sun made my eyes burn and itch, and I couldn't leave the house without shades. Taejin was kind enough to give me a few pairs.

"I'm not here, Sam," I whispered. "Not really. Without my sight, I'm a terrible fighter, and without that, what's left of me? I don't serve much use here."

She sighed softly. "You're still you, Yoongi. Maybe some things are different, maybe you're feeling lost. But you're still here. And as long as you are, you've got a chance to figure out who you'll be now. Life doesn't stop just because you want it to."

I wanted to argue, to push her away, but there was a stubborn truth in what she said.

"What do you want me to say, Sam?" I asked, the question slipping out more like a plea than I'd intended. "That I'm so messed up I can't even use magic? I keep trying, and nothing happens."

"You don't have to say anything," she said quietly. "I don't want anything from you. But maybe you should want something for yourself. You've lost a lot, but you haven't lost everything. You still have your mother. That's more than many here can say."

Guilt gnawed at me for snapping at Wendy earlier. It wasn't just Wendy, either. Jin had almost lost his father. Enver had nearly been killed multiple times in that fight. Sol, as much as I hated to admit it, had lost the only person she ever knew as family, and no one seemed to care. Taehyung, maybe, but I knew they weren't talking much. Countless others had fallen as well. Sam wasn't wrong—I was lucky to have my mother.

It didn't erase the fact that my life felt irreversibly damaged. I was the only witch with a permanent disability, the only one no one could heal. Maybe I had the right to feel a little bitter.

"I don't know how to do that," I murmured, barely audible. "How to want anything anymore."

She nodded, her expression unreadable in the grayscale blur of my vision. "Then start small. Want to survive. Want to see tomorrow. Want to believe things can get better. And if you can't want it for yourself, then want it for the people who still care about you."

I couldn't respond. Couldn't argue. After a while, Sam shifted closer, her movements deliberate but careful, like she was approaching a wounded animal. I didn't turn my head, didn't acknowledge her beyond the faint scuff of her boots against the porch. I didn't have the energy.

"You know, Yoongi," Sam said, her voice lighter than it had any right to be on a night like this, "I've always thought you were handsome."

"I know," I mumbled, barely more than a whisper, my voice worn thin. "You know how I feel about you already, just like every other person you’ve sunk your teeth into."

"You're my favorite," she chuckled softly. "You haven't even let me get that far yet. And your skin, those eyes..."

I rolled my eyes. No one ever liked me for my face, and I knew Sam would say anything if she thought I'd give in just a little. My body buzzed with anticipation that I forced down. I didn't know if I could handle something like that right now, even if it might feel good.

Sam's laugh faded, and her tone shifted. "I'm serious, Yoongi. You've got this whole mysterious, brooding thing going on. People like that."

I let out a bitter breath. "What people?" I muttered, shaking my head. Then, a faint smirk tugged at my lips. "I'm a blind guy who can't do magic. Who's lining up for that?"

"You'd be surprised."

I turned slightly toward her, a sigh escaping my lips. "You're relentless, you know that?"

"It's part of my charm," she said, and before I could respond, I felt her shift closer. Her breath was warm against my cheek, and then her lips brushed mine—soft, tentative, giving me a chance to pull away.

But I didn't.

Instead, I leaned into her, my fingers brushing against her arm as I kissed her back. It was brief, just a moment, but it felt like a small light flickering in the darkness. When she pulled away, I could still feel the warmth lingering, and it made me feel... something. Something other than emptiness.

"Thanks," she whispered, barely audible. "For letting that happen."

I swallowed, my throat tight, and nodded. "Thank you," I said softly. "For wanting it to happen."

She smiled—a gentle curve I could almost see in the hazy grayscale of my vision.

Silence settled between us, comfortable for once. I watched the party slowly disperse. Jin and Wendy passed by on their way back inside. Jin glanced down and grinned at me. He was probably happy to see Sam's head leaning on my shoulder. I didn't look to see Wendy's reaction. It didn't matter.

The ache in my chest didn't go away, but I did feel a little better than I had earlier.

Eventually, the last of the witches were gone, and the fire began to burn low. Sam was unusually quiet, but I think she knew I needed time to think. Watching the smoke curl up into the night sky, I tried to keep my mind off the sadder thoughts that seemed to be on repeat lately. Sam deserved better, and I was exhausted from it all. I needed a break.

The sharp creak of the front door pulled me from my thoughts, and Jungkook's familiar voice broke the quiet—loud and bright, just like always. I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. He was exactly what I needed, even if I wasn't sure I could match his energy tonight.

"Guess who!" Jungkook called, bounding onto the porch, his grin as wide as ever. "Hope you two haven't died of boredom without me!"

Sam smirked, standing up and leaning against the railing, arms crossed. "Not yet," she shot back. "But the quiet was nice while it lasted."

I chuckled softly but stayed quiet otherwise. The silence had been nice, and I wasn't quite ready to let it go. Jungkook's energy filled the space, bright and insistent, but I could already feel how drained I was from earlier.

"Perfect!" Jungkook plopped a couple of bottles on the table with a clink. "That's why I brought reinforcements. Drinks to celebrate surviving another day in this lovely mess we call life."

"Getting drunk sounds nice," I muttered under my breath, the words tasting bitter. I didn't feel like we were surviving all that well—maybe it was just me. But alcohol? Alcohol I could manage.

Sam glanced at me, her expression unreadable, then turned back to Jungkook. "And you think drinks are going to solve everything?"

"No," Jungkook shrugged, undeterred. "But they won't make it worse, right? And besides, who says no to a little fun?"

I let out a hollow laugh, the sound cracking in the still air. "Fun," I said, shaking my head. "Don't know if I'll be much help with that."

Jungkook's grin faltered, his eyes flicking toward me, then away. "Hey, come on," he said, his voice softer now. "You're still here, Yoongi. That's gotta count for something."

The words landed like stones in my chest. I gripped the bottle he handed me, the cold glass calming me for a moment. "I guess so," I said, barely above a whisper.

Sam straightened, her teasing demeanor fading. "Yoongi..." she started, but I shook my head.

"I'm fine, Sam," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "Just a rough day. Can we just crack open whatever the kid brought and have a good time?"

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, his bottle clinking as he set it down. "We all have bad days," he said steadily. "You’ve been having a tough time lately, and I don't think it's fair for anyone to make you feel bad about it. I can leave if that's easier. You two seemed fine before I got here."

"It's fine, Kook," I chuckled, touched by his thoughtfulness. "It's not your fault I'm so..." I trailed off, unsure how to finish.

Jungkook's expression softened, and he reached over, giving my shoulder a gentle nudge. "Hey. We're all in this mess together, right?"

Sam sighed, stepping closer. "You're too busy shutting us out to let us help," she said quietly. "But we're not going anywhere, Yoongi. We're here."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. Their words didn't fix anything. They didn't make the weight on my chest any lighter or the darkness any less suffocating. But for the first time in a long time, they made me feel less alone.

"Now, come on," Sam teased, nudging my shoulder just enough to pull me out of my spiraling thoughts. "You're being so depressing you've got Kook acting serious. That's a first."

"Hey, I can be serious," Jungkook protested, though his usual smile was back, not quite reaching his eyes. "But right now? I'd rather laugh with my friends than sit around dwelling on things I can't change."

I raised my bottle in a half-hearted toast. "Sometimes, laughter is all we've got."

Jungkook lifted his own bottle, grinning. "To laughter, and to the best friends a guy could ask for."

Sam rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get all mushy on us now."

We clinked our bottles together, the sound echoing softly into the night. The weight on my chest didn't disappear, but it felt a little lighter.

"I'll kick Chief Kim's ass for you in a heartbeat," Sam joked after taking a sip.

"And I'll turn Bo into a goat," I added, trying to keep the mood light.

Sam giggled. "We'd actually get some use out of her then."

"You two are so mean," Jungkook laughed, shaking his head.

"It's part of the charm," Sam shot back, her grin widening.

We finished our first drinks quickly, and Jungkook was more than happy to crack open a few more. The night was young, and the smell of the bonfire still lingered in Mi-Jeong's backyard. I used to love that smell, but now it brought back memories I didn't want—the kind that made me squeeze my eyes shut and remind myself that I was safe. That nothing bad was going to happen.

"So," Jungkook said, leaning forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "what's next? More drinks? Truth or dare? I want to make things interesting."

"Let's not get too wild," Sam warned, though the curiosity in her smirk betrayed her. "We've got enough chaos in our lives. Don't think we need any more drama."

"True," Jungkook agreed, his grin softening. "But hey, we might as well have fun while we can. Those bastards will be back eventually."

Sam's expression shifted, a playful glint in her eyes. "How about a round of 'Devil's Lie'? Ever played, Yoongi?"

I raised an eyebrow, the corner of my mouth twitching despite myself. "Who hasn't? Are you sure you're ready to lose?"

Sam laughed, leaning in so close I could feel her breath. "Try me," she challenged.

Jungkook let out a playful hoot. He'd always said he wanted Sam and me to end up together, something about "eternal happiness" for his only friends. Sam and I just laughed it off. She didn't do the whole marriage and kids thing, and I was perfectly happy without any strings attached.

Jungkook tilted his head toward the house. "Hang on. I'll go see if Momma Park has a deck lying around." He disappeared inside, leaving Sam and me in the warm night air.

A moment later, Jungkook returned, holding a slightly battered deck of cards in one hand, a triumphant grin on his face.

Sam helped me over to the small table on the porch. I could see it was a shade of a mid-tone grey, but the design—a dark shape curled up on itself—was still a bit blurry. I settled into a chair, trying not to cringe as Sam's chair dragged loudly against the wood.

"Alright, game refresher," Jungkook announced, setting the cards on the table. "The rules are simple: play a card face down and say what it is. If no one calls your bluff, the game moves on. If someone thinks you're lying and they're right, you drink. If you're telling the truth and they call you out, they drink. First to lose all their cards wins."

Sam's eyes lit up as she grabbed her drink. "Finally, a game I was born to win."

I smirked, picking up my bottle. "We'll see about that."

Jungkook shuffled the cards with surprising dexterity, then dealt them out. "Let's make it interesting," he added, grinning. "Every round starts with 'I bet the Devil,' because why not?"

Sam leaned forward, her grin mischievous. "Oh, this is going to get ugly."

Jungkook went first, laying down a card. "I bet the Devil... this is a seven of spades. Also, I had a crush on a teacher once."

Sam groaned. "Seriously? That's your big confession?"

"I think he's lying about the card," I interjected, squinting at him.

Jungkook turned it over with a flourish—it was a seven of spades. "Drink up, Yoongi."

I groaned as Sam burst out laughing. "I'm going to be so bad at this. I can't see your faces that well without the moonlight."

"I can get a lantern," Jungkook offered, but I shook my head.

Fire wasn’t as bad as direct sunlight, but my eyes were sensitive enough right now that it added some strain.

"I'll manage."

"My turn," Sam said, sliding a card down with theatrical flair. "I bet the Devil... this is a king of hearts. I've never been with a woman before."

I squinted at her, trying to gauge the truth. "The card's a lie," I said confidently. "And that story is complete bullshit, too."

She flipped it over—it was a king of hearts. "Nice try, Yoongi. Bottoms up!"

"What about the story?" Jungkook asked.

"Oh, a complete lie," Sam replied, already reaching for her drink.

Jungkook leaned back, watching us with a grin as I took a reluctant sip. "This is going better than I expected," he admitted, placing his next card. "I bet the Devil... this is an ace of clubs. And I never snuck out at night."

Sam snorted. "You're full of it. No one makes it to your age without sneaking out."

“Card?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Bullshit,” I said.

“Think he’s being honest about the card,” Sam waved me off.

Jungkook flipped the card over—it wasn't an ace. Sam cursed under her breath and took a long sip while Jungkook gave us a smug look. "Told you I've got a good poker face."

"Good boy," I teased, sticking my tongue out at him.

"Mom's favorite," he shot back with a grin.

Jungkook had some of the brightest smiles I'd ever seen. The only flaw was his slightly too-long front teeth, but even that suited him. Namjoon's were a close second, but I didn't see him smile enough to compare.

I wished I could see him smile more. He was always so... compelling.

The night carried on like that—the game quickly evolving from simple bluffs to playful confessions and outright ridiculous lies. By the end, we were leaning into each other, laughing so hard that tears pricked at the corners of our eyes. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough for now.

The dim light filtering through the tavern's grimy windows felt like tiny knives stabbing at my eyes, even from where I was tucked away in the corner. Without sunglasses, stepping into full daylight wasn't even an option—the pain just wasn't worth it. I hunched over my excuse for breakfast: rubbery eggs and toast so dry it could double as a coaster. Hunger insisted I try, but every bite tasted like last night—greasy, regretful, and tinged with the bitterness of too much ale and too little honesty.

I pushed the plate aside with a metallic scrape, wincing at how sharp the sound was. The murmur of voices around me tangled together, a blur of lives I wasn't part of, just out of reach. Conversations mixed into a static hum, like I was behind some invisible barrier, listening to a life that wasn't mine anymore.

The creak of the tavern door broke the monotony, a cool draft brushing past as it opened. Two voices followed—one light and easy, as familiar as home. Hoseok's laughter rang out, warm and effortless, undercut by Hyuna's softer chuckle. Their voices cut through the haze like sunlight piercing storm clouds.

"Mind if we join you?" Hoseok asked, his tone as laid-back as ever, though I could hear the weariness beneath it.

I gestured to the empty seats, managing a small smile. "Go ahead. Just a heads-up—the food's as bad as it looks."

"If Yala cooked it, I can imagine it's bad," Hyuna said, eyeing my plate with a smirk. "Greasy, stale, and questionable at best?"

"Pretty much," I muttered, pushing the plate farther away.

Hoseok chuckled, but the sound lacked its usual spark. "Hey, at least it's not rations out of a tin like the copiae are getting in the field. I'd take overcooked eggs any day."

We shared a weak laugh, but the moment was fleeting. The weight of everything we'd been through, the constant worry, crept back in—thick and heavy. Hoseok leaned back, his eyes drifting somewhere far away. "Bridd saved my life in that last battle," he said quietly. "I don't even know how, but she did. I keep thinking... it should be me out there instead of her, alone."

Silence settled over us, broken only by the clinking of glasses and low murmurs from across the room. A pang shot through my chest, the reminder of Bridd's absence cutting deep. She'd been our anchor, the one who kept us steady. Without her, it felt like we were all just... floating.

"You miss her," I said softly, voicing what we all felt.

Hoseok nodded, his face tight with worry. "We all do. But Jimin's taking it the hardest. He's been beating himself up since that argument they had before she left. This war... it's tearing us apart."

Hyuna's expression softened, her eyes distant. "I keep thinking I should've said something to her, thanked her for everything. But I didn't. None of us did, really."

"We didn't either. Barely saw her after she woke up," I swallowed, my voice rough. "She's the heart of our families, and I don't think she ever realized how much she held us together."

Hoseok's hand rested on the table, his fingers tapping lightly. "I can't even imagine what it'd be like if she doesn't come back. Jimin's trying to act strong, but he's falling apart."

"He's been so distant lately," I murmured. "He doesn't know who he is without her anymore."

"Namjoon's been keeping him company," Hyuna nodded, her voice quiet. "He's hardly around here anymore. Only talks to people when he has to."

"I've been trying to keep an eye on him," Hoseok muttered. "He's easy to find—training, Bridd's place, or scouting. He's here all day, then slips away when things get quiet to spend time at her house. He's been fixing it up."

That brought a small grin to my face. It was nice to think it'd be ready for her when she got back. Unless, of course, something happened to it again. I doubted the elves would bother returning to the clearing. The witches who'd gone to Clarcton to find family said everyone thought Y/N was dead when they found her cottage destroyed and 'the Bird' gone.

We didn't correct them until they were back in Foxglove. Y/N's whereabouts were classified now.

"I'm worried he might hurt himself if something happens to her," Hyuna whispered.

"He might, even if he doesn't know," Hoseok replied. "We're not meant to be apart from our mates for this long. He must be going insane."

Their words echoed the fears I'd been trying to bury. I clenched my fists under the table, feeling the rough wood grain beneath my fingers, focusing on the tavern's hum of voices and clinking glasses. Out there, life went on, uninterrupted. But here, in our little corner, everything felt like it was standing still.

Whether we liked it or not, the three of us would be on the front lines.

And everyone knew I might not make it.

No one wanted to admit it.

Hoseok broke the silence with a sigh. "Yoongi," he said quietly, "have you thought about what happens after all this? After the war?"

The question hit me harder than I expected. Survival had become everything—the only thing. Thinking beyond it felt strange. I wasn't sure I'd see the end of it. With my eyesight the way it was, I felt weak, at a major disadvantage. Magic was helpful, but without the confidence to use it, it was useless.

Most of my spells fizzled out lately, and I was too frustrated and upset to keep trying.

"I know with your eyes, fighting might be tough," Hoseok continued, not noticing how still I'd become. "I'd understand if you wanted to stay back, maybe help out at the palace with Sol. She's a bit immature at times, but she's a sweet girl. You'd be good for her."

I stopped listening.

I couldn't be stuck on the sidelines. I wasn't meant to be there. I was a strong fighter—the best at night by a long shot. Jin might have more brute strength, his energy electric and full of fire, but I was just as deadly.

I could make the ground split in two. I could turn blades of grass into vines strong enough to break steel. I could summon a hurricane with a whisper. I could do so many things if they'd let me.

If I could let myself.

Then the sound of screaming rushed in my ears, and a cold sweat broke out across my skin.

I needed air.

I managed to get outside, bumping into a few chairs and tables on the way. The cool breeze hit my face, and I leaned back against the weathered wall, letting the cold ground me. It cut through the fog in my head, the chilly morning a relief from the tavern's stuffiness.

The smell of blood and ash had filled the air, screams and the clash of steel blurring together. I remembered the weight of their stares, how hard it was to breathe, the sharpness of their blades. The elves had charged us swiftly, mercilessly. I'd fought, felt the sting of cuts I barely noticed through the adrenaline. I could still see the glow of that elf's purple eyes as he reached out and covered my face. And then, in one blinding moment, all I felt was searing, burning pain.

I had bested him in the end, but fighting after that had been nearly impossible. The only reason I'd been able to call out to Y/N was because things hadn't gotten as bad as they eventually would. While I was in the palace with Enver and Namjoon, everything went black. The small bit of vision I'd recovered was thanks to the countless healing spells everyone had tried on me.

I met Sam during that time—when everything was blurry and upside down. She told everyone the "shining" had its advantages, but that my body needed to heal on its own. Not many survive the initial burning, she'd said, and we'd have to wait and see what became of me. It took months for the full effects to settle in, but she could already tell my vision was adjusting to the dark. Each day, my eyes became more metallic, turning silver as they healed. She said the grayscale was a good thing.

I didn't believe her. Not at all.

Sam befriended me out of some morbid curiosity about what would happen to the little witch who survived elf magic. Now, she wanted to sleep with me. Quietus were strange creatures, but I'd come to adore Sam and all her odd quirks.

"Yoongi?"

I turned, steadying myself against the rough wall. Hoseok's footsteps were careful, like he didn't want to startle me. I hadn't even heard him come outside.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, concern threading through his words.

"I just... needed a minute." I tried to keep my voice steady. "I'm easily overwhelmed lately. Apologize to Hyuna for me. That was really rude."

Hoseok was silent for a moment, then I felt his hand on my shoulder—warm and grounding. "We're all carrying more than we should," he said gently. "You can talk to me. Maybe it'll help. What does it feel like?"

A bitter laugh slipped out before I could stop it. "What are you referring to? My eyes or the nightmares?"

"The nightmares." His voice softened. "I know enough about your condition. I just want to know about you right now."

I shook my head, pushing my glasses further up my nose. The sun was bothering my eyes even more out here, but I barely noticed. Everything was too bright, too sharp.

"It feels like they never stop," I admitted. "Even when my eyes are open, they keep happening. Sometimes I don't know what's real anymore. It's... frightening."

Hoseok took a deep breath beside me. "Hyuna's been having the same issue," he said, leaning against the wall next to me. "Waking up screaming my name. When we got separated, she barely noticed, but seeing me hurt like that was horrible for her. Her friends died. Both of my parents died. It's been really hard."

I hadn't realized he'd lost his family. I knew his older sister was still around the village. The Jungs were good at covering their pain, it seemed. I reached out, my hands fumbling until they found his shoulder—maybe a bit too close to his neck, but he didn't pull away.

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling his fingers brush against my hand before enveloping it. His hands were large and warm—scorching, almost. I didn't know how Y/N dealt with it; it felt like I might melt. "I didn't realize. I would have gone to the funeral."

He shook his head. "We couldn't have proper funerals for anyone. Too many bodies. They burned them and gave the ashes to Ji-woo. We're too afraid to display them right now. They could get destroyed in another fight."

"I can charm them," I blurted out. "Make the porcelain sturdier. I can't make it unbreakable—charming isn't really my specialty; that's Y/N's thing. But I'm good enough to give you some peace of mind."

"We'd appreciate that," Hoseok said, squeezing my hand. "Thank you."

Bridd's absence gnawed at me. If she were here, she'd promise Hoseok and anyone else with a vase of ashes that they'd never break again as soon as she got her hands on them. Funny—we used to tease her and Wendy for struggling with defensive magic. Wendy said she didn't believe in violence but knew enough to defend herself if needed. Y/N was even less into it, but she was so resourceful she scared even the best fighters among us.

I'd never seen someone make fire so quickly and easily before. A natural talent, my mother had said. It was her only truly offensive attack, but even I could admit her protective spells were where she truly shined. Healing, shields, and all the strange and whimsical spells she made up to escape quickly and quietly—they were fascinating.

My heart felt heavier.

"What happened between Bridd and Jimin?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that had haunted me since she left.

We all knew the gist: an argument that got out of hand, and Y/N had a really bad day. She left in a flurry of emotions and disappeared. Many of us were quick to blame Jimin for her leaving, but when details about Sol being the catalyst emerged, that blame shifted.

I felt bad for the girl. She didn't think Y/N would run off and hurt herself. I understood she was trying, in some ways, to get her to stay by making sure the one person who could convince her not to go was extremely against the whole idea. Unfortunately, she didn't know my friend all that well and ended up sending her packing even sooner than planned.

Sol was a child. Eighteen was barely an adult, and she'd been pampered and treated like a princess her entire life. What did anyone expect? For her to be mature and handle things like a seasoned warrior? Not likely. Especially not when she had such a sweet and bubbly husband like Taehyung, who just wanted to please her.

They still were hardly speaking.

Hoseok sighed heavily. "It's complicated," he said. "They argued about Sol, about her leaving. Bridd was trying to protect him, and Jimin pushed for answers. Things got heated, and they both said things they regretted. But Jimin..." He paused, his voice dropping. "He's a mess without her. Regret doesn't even cover it."

"I know. I guess I'm just trying to figure out what everyone is doing about the elves. Thelma hasn't been very helpful."

"The council meets daily, but we can't get on the same page. Namjoon, Jungkook, and I are doing most of the talking. Jimin's making hundreds of war plans for every scenario you could think of. There are so many maps in that room. Bo and Kim are trying to ease the minds of the older folks. Taehyung is shockingly level-headed, working with Jimin to iron out details."

"And Sol? Is she just hiding while we pick up the pieces?" I couldn't help the sharpness in my voice.

No one had seen the Luna since her wedding. It wasn't a good look, and when we heard about Jungkook being her personal guard through all this, we nearly stormed the palace to demand why she thought she deserved special treatment. Heji had calmed us down, but dissent for Sol spread through the village like wildfire.

Hoseok's grip tightened on my hand. "It's not that simple, Yoongi. They're keeping a close eye on her in the palace. She's trying to keep her family safe and deal with everything she's set in motion."

"That doesn't excuse her," I snapped, anger spilling over. "It doesn't excuse any of this. We're out here fighting while she sits behind walls. And Y/N..." My voice cracked, the ache in my chest almost too much to bear.

"Yoongi." Hoseok's voice was firm, cutting through my anger. "We're all in this mess, every one of us. The girl is having a mental breakdown in there. She can't even get out of bed anymore. Taehyung won't speak to her, and she's miserable. She tried... harming herself a few days ago, and now they have guards watching her around the clock. Blaming Sol won't bring Bridd back or make this any easier."

"I know." The anger faded, leaving only emptiness behind. "But it feels like everything's falling apart, and I'm completely useless. You know no one expects me to survive the next fight."

Hoseok let go of my hand, and I dropped mine from his shoulder. I could see his silhouette leaning back against the wall beside me. The light made everything an overwhelming flood of white and gold, edges blurring and details lost in the glare. I hoped I would find something better than these stupid human inventions with time.

The edges allowed sunlight in depending on which way my head turned and the coating on them wasn’t as dark and thick as I would have liked. Yet another thing Y/N would have figured out how to fix. She had the most creative spell ideas out of everyone I had ever met.

She might have even been able to find a way to get my eyes back to normal given enough time.

"You're stronger than you think," Hoseok said gently. "You made it through that battle. You're still here, and that means something, even if it doesn't feel like it right now."

“I’m here for now,” I rebuttal, unhappily.

“You heard Samanya, sooner or later your eyes will be better than any of ours at night. Then, you’ll be the most useful person in the entire village.”

“Sure.”

The street around us was still, the morning quiet making me far more unnerved. Birds did not chirp anymore. Most of the deer were in hiding. Insects and the occasional frog were the only sounds. At that moment, it felt like we were in a bubble, the noise and weight of the war held at bay just for a second.

“Is Sol alright?” I asked.

“Doing better,” Hoseok huffed. “She’s not really sure what she’s supposed to be doing, and no one is willing to let her help with anything now. Bo isn’t letting her in on any of the war meetings, Namjoon’s father thinks she’s too stupid and frail to be any help, and I think Tae’s just too overwhelmed and overloaded to step in between them.”

“Still not talking?” I asked.

Hoseok shook his head. “He talked to her last night, and he’s been trying to spend more time with her, but Sol’s not being very receptive to him right now. Koda has been with her mostly, and she said Sol hasn’t eaten or spoken for days. Weeks if you want to count her just sipping on water and force feeding herself crackers and bread. She looks horrible.”

“And Taehyung?”

“Worried,” Hoseok cleared his throat. “Sorry, I have a cough. He’s just spread too thin right now, and no one is being very helpful. Jimin, maybe, but he’s too distracted to really give much advice. It’s why I think you going and being around Sol might help.”

I laughed, “And why would I be the ultimate solution to all of their problems?”

“Because you’re nice, and Sol needs a friend.”

I shook my head. The thought of spending time with the girl who was the reason my best friend left was not appealing to me, but I did understand where Hoseok was coming from. Even if I did not particularly care for her, it wasn’t nice to hear that she had attempted to take her own life. No one should feel like that is their only option.

Maybe I will stop by one of these days. See if I could get the girl a decent meal. Gods knows she was already skinny enough before. Has to be practically wasting away now.

I heard the tavern door open and slam shut. Heavy footsteps fell and were coming for the two of us. A good guess was that it was Hyuna. Peeking over Hoseok’s shoulder, I saw his wife.

She was tall and slim, just as skin and bones as her husband, with long hair. I remember meeting her once or twice before, but couldn’t remember the color of her hair. It was brown, not too light or dark, but that was all. Her skin was dark, the color reminded me of a bronze-gold Viola. She was pretty. I remember thinking she was pretty.

Right now, she just looked like a stick figure drawn in ink that was smudged with the side of a hand.

Hyuna’s voice broke the silence as she joined us, her tone steady and sure. “Are you alright?” Her hand found mine, warm and solid. “You looked shaken up.”

I swallowed hard, nodding as some of the tightness in my chest eased. “I’m alright, Hyuna,” I said, my voice thick. “Just a few things I’d rather not think about.”

“I have those, too,” she replied, her eyes kind.

The morning air was crisp and biting, but with my friends beside me, I felt a spark of warmth, a small flicker of hope breaking through the shadows. We’d lost so much, and there was still more to face, but standing there, I felt like maybe we had enough to hold on to.

“Come here, baby,” Hoseok muttered, grabbing hold of his wife. Hyuna melted into his side. He looked back at me. “We need to get back to the palace. Hyuna’s scheduled to watch Sol in an hour and I need to get back to the council room before Jimin rips Bo’s head off.”

“No problem, man.”

“Will you be alright?” Hyuna asked.

“Always am,” I replied.

They each gave me a small hug before heading off towards the palace.

I leaned against the cold, rough wall of the building, trying to catch my breath as my mind spiraled through everything weighing on us—the war, the losses, the unknowns stretching out like an endless road. I closed my eyes, hoping for a moment of peace, but the darkness clung to me, seeping into every corner of my mind.

The sound of footsteps pulled me back to reality. I turned toward them, and a flicker of relief went through me when I saw Sam and Jungkook. I couldn't see if they looked as rough as I did, but it didn’t really matter to me. We had fun last night and I felt bad for possibly ruining that light atmosphere we’d been able to hold onto for a few hours. Hoseok and Hyuna had most likely run into them on their way out. It was the only way either of them would have known I was here.

“Hey,” Sam said, her voice soft. “You okay?”

I forced a small smile, though it felt like it could break at any second. “Just needed some air,” I replied, my voice sounding as worn out as I felt. “How about you two? Holding up?”

Jungkook shrugged, his jaw tight, his usual spark dimmed. “Same as everyone else, I guess. Just… trying to make sense of it. Hangovers don't mix well with war meetings. Happy Jung is relieving me. I hate seeing my cousin like that.”

Sam took a small step closer. “Hyuna told us you were here,” she said gently, her voice carrying the same sadness that weighed on all of us. “She told me what happened. Are you sure you’re alright? She made it seem like you freaked out.”

I swallowed, the ache in my chest tightening. “Yeah,” I managed, barely above a whisper. “I’m just… everyone keeps talking about Bridd, and it brings back a lot of memories. I hate that she’s not here right now. The witches aren’t united and nothing is getting done. I’m pissed off and sad.”

The three of us stood there, caught in a silence heavy with grief. Y/N had been more than just a friend to me—she’d been my anchor, hope, and strength when I needed it most. And now, that strength was gone. She had made me feel like I was worth something. Like I could be something more than a conquest. She was the only person that we grew up with who made me feel like I was more than just a piece of meat. Nixie and Delta had been helpful as well, but the romance always left room for doubt in my mind. With Y/N I knew she just really loved and cared about me with or without strings attached.

She was like that with all of us. The most well-respected and adored little witch as far as the eye could see. And we all knew it. Jin, Wendy, our families, and the little witches—big and small—were all aware of the gaping hole we kept avoiding talking about. We needed her here right now, and nothing Thelma or anyone else did could change that fact.

The fact that Enver and Thelma might have known she would leave prior to any of this happening made my stomach churn uncomfortably.

“Have I ever told you I talked to Jin before?” Sam finally broke the silence.

“No,” My face scrunched up. “Why would you do that?”

“It was back when your vision was at its worst. Before Bridd even woke up.”

“Oh,” I said back, dumbly. Jin never acted like he even knew Sam existed half the time. The fact that he’d spoken with her at all was news to me. Wendy couldn’t have known about it. She would have told me. She wouldn’t have been able to help herself.

Wendy was bad with secrets. Jin, too.

Huh. Maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I had.

“What’d he say?” I asked.

“I told him I was worried about what would happen to everyone if she never woke up,” Sam’s voice was like butter. “That hope within your people would die out as quickly as it went in. He told me that Bridd used to say hope was like a stubborn weed. You could try to pull it out as many times as you wanted, but it would always come back, even stronger.” She let out a soft laugh, more sad than happy. “She woke up, of course. The whole conversation didn’t really mean much of anything afterwards, but I can’t help but think about that sometimes. Because she was right. You could see how defeated she was—her eyes couldn’t lie, but she still clung to the hope of finding something better and bringing it back. An impossible task and she looked at it with nothing but mild annoyance and disdain.”

Sam laughed in disbelief. “And then she went off on her own like a fucking lunatic. She left this place thinking that her fiancé hated her, her friends betrayed her, and that she would die out there one way or another—and she still went. She wanted all of us to live even if she died. She had hope that she’d make it far enough to find Naida and whatever happened after didn’t matter.”

“She believed in that hope, even when we couldn’t,” Jungkook added, his voice raw. “She made us believe, too.”

I nodded, the sharp ache of missing her settling deep. “She wouldn’t want us to give up,” I said, feeling the truth of it in my bones. “She fought for this—for us. I can’t let her down.”

Sam reached out, her hand resting on my shoulder, grounding me. “Your friend is as crazy as Queen Terra was, and that woman stood tall against the elves. A mass genocide and she was still screaming. That’s what your girl is doing, and we will be doing the same.”

Jungkook moved closer, placing his hand on my other shoulder, his grip strong. “For Bridd,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination, “and for everyone we’ve lost.”

Bridd had given everything she had to protect us, to stand for something bigger than herself. And even though she was gone, her spirit lived on in us, in the bonds we shared, in the strength that kept us going. The road ahead was dark, full of uncertainty, but we’d walk it together.

As the sun slowly rose, casting light across the worn cobblestones, I felt a hint of warmth—a reminder that dawn always comes after the darkest nights. We couldn’t change the past or erase what we’d lost, but we could honor Bridd’s memory by holding onto hope and fighting on. She’d left us with that much: a spark of resilience even in the deepest dark.

“For Bridd,” I murmured.

And for once, the light didn’t bother me so much.

I stood by the river, watching as the last of the sunlight hit the water. The river sparkled, flowing east where it would inevitably end up in the Talay Ocean. Around me, the sky was deepening. I had never realized how much I had taken sunsets for granted until I could no longer watch the colors swirl together. It was twilight now, and the sky would be streaked with crimson and plum. Sunsets this close to the water were always the most beautiful.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to reach for my magic. It used to come so easily, just a flick of my wrist, a thought. But now, it felt like pulling teeth. The light that once danced at my fingertips was nothing more than a weak spark, flickering out before it even formed. Frustration twisted in my chest, sharp and tight.

Nothing really was the same anymore.

Clashing metal, the roar of flames, blood, wolves at my feet, swirling smoke clouding my vision, white hair, violet eyes, burning, and then the screaming.

Always the screaming.

I tried to shake off the memory, forcing myself to focus on the gentle sounds of the river. It was a futile distraction at best. Bridd’s face surfaced in my mind, and I felt the sting of her absence all over again. I could almost hear Jin’s laughter, taunting me with each failure, each flicker of magic that sputtered out.

“Not so hot now, Min,” his voice was distorted and dripping with more malice than my friend was capable of.

I clenched my fists, trying to channel the frustration into something useful—anything that might remind me I hadn’t lost myself entirely. I flicked my wrist. Nothing came.

“Come on,” I muttered under my breath. “You can do this.” But all I got were a few faint sparks that faded into nothing. Every failure widened the hollow ache inside, gnawing at my resolve.

The riverbank was too quiet. I wondered if it was as lonely as I was. I groaned, kicking my feet and connecting with a few stray rocks. The sun had finally set, and I ripped the stupid glasses off my face. With each passing day, things became clearer. Tonight, the lines were sharper, and the details between the trees a bit more noticeable. Of course, still no color had come back. Cadoc said it most likely never would.

Tears welled up in my eyes. My entire chest tightened with all the frustration, anger, and hopelessness I felt deep within me. I was a failure. I was nothing. I was...

I wished someone was there to break me out of my own head for a while.

A rustling in the bushes made me jump, my body tensing instinctively. But it was only a bird, flapping away, leaving me alone again. I sighed, looking up at the sky. At least I could make out the stars again. I looked around, hoping to find Scorpius.

I found it tucked away, forming a ‘J.’ I smiled. Antares was the easiest to spot, a faintly red and brightly lit star. The only thing that could rival the other star called Mars. I was not sure how they got their names, or when, but it was interesting to look at them all. This, at least, I could still do.

“Today is a new day,” I mumbled, tearing my eyes away from the sky.

I tried the spell again, but again, nothing happened. Again. A faint spark. All I wanted to do was a very simple, very basic electricity spell. Each failed attempt felt like a punch to the gut. I hated being reduced to this weak and pathetic state where the very thing I was born to do felt impossible.

I flicked my wrist. “Leohtfæt.”

A white-hot bolt shot out, but instead of flicking out like it should have, it exploded in a small burst just after leaving the tip of my index finger. I shouted, pain shooting through my arm. A murder of crows flew up from the surrounding trees in a flurry. None of them made a sound.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I let out a shout—raw and loud, breaking the quiet. I kicked at the dirt, wishing I could do something—anything—to shake this feeling. I was in a cage, a small songbird, and I couldn’t figure out why I wanted to sing anymore. Beside me, the river kept flowing, steady and indifferent. I stood beside it, stuck.

“Get it together,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You’re stronger than this.”

I didn’t believe myself.

I took a few steps back from the river’s edge until I felt the solid ground under my feet. It felt more reassuring than the wet mud had. My magic was still somewhere inside of me; I just needed to shake off the fear and regroup. I was able to make a bolt.

It blew up in my face, but it was more than I’d been able to do in a few weeks.

The river glowed underneath the moonlight, the world around me softening, muted. I leaned against a twisted tree, still caught up in the mess of my own frustration, when I heard her voice.

“Yoongi?” Sam called out.

It was soft, like she wasn’t sure if she should interrupt. I turned toward the sound and was struck by how much clearer she looked tonight. Her hair cascaded down her back, dark and perfectly straight, and she was wearing some kind of loose-fitting dress. I had never been able to see her features so clearly before. Bathed in a gentle, dream-like glow, she stood out against the trees like some sort of goddess.

Humans might even mistake her for one of their angels.

“I thought I might find you here.”

I tried to smile, though it probably looked tired. “Hey,” I said, my voice as worn as I felt. “Didn’t realize I’d been out here that long.”

Her footsteps were soft as she came closer. She was taking great care not to startle me. Footsteps and loud noises sometimes brought me back, and I’d be unable to speak for a few minutes. Her lips were pulled down into a half-frown. They were plump and full, and I rejoiced in being able to know that about her.

Such a far cry from a few days before on Mi-Jeong’s back porch.

“I just came from Jimin’s. He’s... well, he’s managing. Sort of,” she said quietly. “Namjoon and I kept him company for a while, but he ended up slipping out a few minutes ago.”

I swallowed, guilt biting deeper. “Is he alright?”

She hesitated, and I saw her shifting uncomfortably, searching for the right thing to say. I had never been able to see her squirm before. “Not really,” she admitted. “But he’s trying.” She found a rather large rock near the river’s edge and sat down. “Doesn’t sound like the magic training is going very well.”

I nodded, going over to sit beside her. She made room for me before leaning her head against my shoulder. Her small touches of affection were growing more common between us, but they did not bother me. In fact, I welcomed them. Even if I knew she had just been with Namjoon—I flushed as I thought of him—it never made me feel uncomfortable. If anything, it only made me want her beside me more.

It was almost like touching him.

“Nothing?” she asked, so gently that I almost wanted to cry.

“Yeah,” I said, lifting my hands. “I got a few sparks here and there, but it’s hit or miss. I need to start testing a few of the other simple spells and see if it’s just my defensive magic that’s clogged up.”

She didn’t speak right away. Her head stayed on my shoulder, and her hand came to claim one of my own. She pulled it down to rest in her lap. Her legs felt cold against my skin. Her thumb gently traced my knuckles.

“That’s better than before,” she said finally. “I think your body is still a bit afraid after what happened. Might be trying to keep you safe.”

Frustration spiked again, making my voice come out sharper than I intended. “It’s not that simple, Sam. Bodies don’t do that.”

She didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch. Instead, she squeezed my hand a little tighter. “No, it’s not simple. None of this is, but your body is far more complex than you think it is.”

I felt her lips against my neck. They were cold and wet. I shivered.

“It happened to me just after the Sarkan invasion,” she whispered in my ear. “I was a young girl, but I remember how afraid I was. I couldn’t do anything for years afterward. I felt just as human as the people who stole our land. So many of us were deeply affected.”

She sighed, shifting back to rest against my shoulder again. “I don’t think you’re all that different. King Castor, who wasn’t a king at the time, told us that our minds like to play tricks on us to protect themselves. Fear is the most powerful weapon in the universe. Have I ever told you about my time with the dragons?”

“No.”

She chuckled. “A story for another time, I suppose. They’re strong and brave people, but they understand much about the body that the rest of us don’t. His wife, Queen Affra, said she knew why iron hurt the fae people but no one ever believed her. It’s too long ago now to remember it, but I wish we’d taken them at their word sooner. It’s the only reason their numbers were able to recover so quickly after the end of the war.”

“I was always told it was because they fucked like rabbits.”

“Well, there’s that, too.”

We both shared a quiet laugh.

She slid her hand up my arm, her fingers tickling my skin, before she took hold of my bicep. “Being strong doesn’t mean you’re not scared,” she said. “It just means you keep going anyway.”

“Are you scared?” I asked, looking down at her face.

It was even easier to see it now. Her eyes were hooded, her nose too pointy and thin, and her face a perfect oval. She reminded me of a very beautiful fish. I leaned down and kissed her between her eyes. She hummed in contentment.

“More than I’ve ever been before.”

I swallowed, her honesty touching something deep inside me, a part of me I hadn’t let anyone near. “I don’t want to drag everyone down,” I said, my voice breaking.

“You’re not dragging anyone down,” she said, her voice fierce, eyes blazing. “Not me, at least. You matter, Yoongi. More than you even realize.”

Something warm flickered in my chest. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to carry me.”

She kissed my cheek this time. “I care about you, Yoongi,” she said. It sounded like a promise. “And that’s not something you get to decide for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

I let out a shaky breath.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

She smiled, and I wished that I knew what color her lips were. Were they like strawberries or the dusty roses in my mother’s garden in Clarcton? “You don’t need to thank me,” she said softly. “Just let me be here, okay?”

I nodded, and we let the silence settle around us. The river murmured, the leaves rustled above, and as night crept in, I felt the gentle hum of life moving forward. Faintly, the crickets were beginning to chirp.

The darkness wasn’t gone—it never really was. It still hovered there, the screams clinging to my mind. But with Sam’s hand in mine, something shifted, and I could vaguely see through the cracks in the trees. They weren't very big, but they were just enough to let a little light in. I took a deep breath, letting the cool night air settle me, and felt more sure of things than I had in a long time.

“You’re right,” I said quietly, my voice a little stronger. “I’m fucking terrified and I don’t know what to do with all of these feelings. I’m so lost and scared, Sam.”

“One step at a time, okay? You’ll figure it out eventually.”

I nodded, feeling gratitude I couldn’t put into words.

After a moment, Sam’s tone shifted, her voice taking on that playful edge I’d come to know and love. Did I love Sam? I couldn’t be in love with her, but I guess I did feel something akin to love. “So, I’ve got some gossip for you,” she said.

My curiosity sparked, tugging me out of the heavy thoughts weighing me down. Shifting, I bent over. Sam giggled childishly. I dipped my fingers into the river, feeling the cool water wash over them, and the residual ache from the spell was gone. I heard her shuffling around until she leaned in beside me, her warmth pushing back against the chill of the night.

Sam wasn’t as warm as me, and nowhere near as warm as the wolves, but I expected an air elemental to be freezing. She said when she “merged.” That’s what they called it when they became more air than solid. Merging with the atmosphere, or whatever Cadoc had said.

I rarely spoke with him, and when I did, I didn’t pay attention. He was nice enough, but boring to converse with. Sam said he wasn’t around much anymore since he was the official diplomat between Queen Nerezza and the Elder Council. Lorcan was their link with General Drystan, and Sam was Jarisa’s, the King’s Consort’s, closest friend. A few other quietus had joined us here in Foxglove, but they were the least experienced warriors they had. From what Sam told me, her king and queen were still wary of working closely with the wolves. Y/N fleeing only added to their suspicion. If she were able to come back with Naida or Khione with her, the rest of the quietus would come as well.

Where Naida went, it was far more likely for the fire dragons to come as well, though no one seemed particularly confident that would be the case. Fire elementals enjoyed keeping to themselves.

“What’s the tea?” I asked, my tone lighter.

“Turns out Ji-Hyun was the one who tipped Sol off about Bridd,” she said in a low, conspiratorial voice. “Taehyung only confirmed it when she backed him into a corner. She didn’t really believe him until then, but whatever he told her is what she must have told Jimin. I’ve met with Taehyung a few times and he seems too sweet to make up lies.”

“Why would he do that?” I muttered, not really expecting an answer that would make any of this better. “I’ve never understood his disdain for Y/N. No one she’s ever met has disliked her so quickly, and even if they did, they’d get over it once they talked to her. She’s quite likable once you get past the quick temper and awkwardness.”

Sam leaned in closer, her breath warm against the cool air. “Lorcan overheard Ji-Hyun arguing with his wife,” she whispered. “Ji-Hyun’s best friend died in the siege, and he blames your little bird for not warning them. He just assumed the worst from the beginning, and he’s too stubborn to squash the beef. He’s angry, Yoongi, and telling Sol was his way of lashing out.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling bitterness rise. Ji-Hyun’s grudge was like poison, and his need for revenge was threatening to tear apart everything we’d fought so hard to hold together. “Great,” I muttered sarcastically. “Just what we need. Another reason for everyone to turn on each other.”

Sam sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Exactly. Everyone’s already on edge, and Lorcan thinks Jimin doesn’t know yet. He’s been around his brother too often for him to think he went behind his back in that way.”

I stared out at the river, watching the water flow. I could picture Jimin’s face once he learned the whole truth of things—the anger that would rise up in him, fierce and unchecked. “If Jimin finds out,” I whispered, the weight of it settling on my chest, “it wouldn’t surprise me if he killed Ji-Hyun. And that would be the end of whatever stability we have left.”

“That’s why we can’t let it get to that point,” Sam said, her voice sharper now. “We have to handle this carefully. One wrong move, and everything could fall apart.”

I let out a long breath. “But what can we really do, Sam? The Parks aren’t exactly known for subtlety, and Ji-Hyun just has to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, and he’ll have to deal with Jimin and whoever else feels some type of way about Y/N leaving.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her tone softening. “But we can watch, we can listen, and we can wait. If the opportunity presents itself, we’ll talk to him. Unfortunately, this is the smallest little village I’ve ever been to, and I doubt anyone can keep their mouths shut for that long. Wouldn’t surprise me if he already knew and was just saving face.”

I turned toward her. “It would explain why he’s staying away from his mom’s house.”

She nudged my shoulder, a smile clear in her voice. “Look at you being smart.”

A real smile crept onto my face. “No one’s ever liked me for my rugged good looks.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you have both, Mr. Min.”

After a beat, I snapped out of the lovestruck, dumb, idiot stare I was in. Was I in love with Sam? No, Yoongi, you’re just infatuated with a girl who’s being nice to you. Not rocket science.

“So he’s punishing Y/N for something she couldn’t control?” I shook my head. “If you haven’t noticed, my jaw is still firmly in place.”

Sam nodded, her expression hardening. “Yeah, but he’s misjudged how this will play out. Callisto isn’t taking it lightly either. If she finds out about Ji-Hyun’s involvement, things could get… ugly.”

That made me laugh. “If there’s anything that girl can do, it’s shit-talk with the best of them. I miss having her at the house.”

“One of the more entertaining people I’ve met here,” Sam agreed. “The other morning she called Namjoon an ‘absolute walnut.’ And then when Ji-Hyun laughed, she made the funniest faux-surprised face I have ever seen and shouted, ‘Oh my God! It Speaks!’ Lorcan and I were cracking up.”

“Damn spitfire,” I chuckled.

“You’d think she was a dragon the way she talks to these wolves.”

“Brave little human.”

“Brave, indeed.”

The evening deepened, stars twinkling brightly above us. It was quieter than usual. The crickets were a small hum in the background, and the frogs were giving us some space. The birds were in the trees, sitting silently and watching. I wondered if Jin and his family had spoken with them. We’d know when something was nearby that way. It would be smart strategizing. I’d talk to my mother about that and see what she knew.

Maybe I could go with Thelma and see what I could do to help. Being Sol’s babysitter popped up in my head, but it didn’t feel like it would be much help. I glanced at Sam and felt my heart melting.

She really was the most important thing in my life right now.

“Thanks, Sam,” I murmured, my voice catching as I looked away. It didn’t feel like enough, but I meant it. “For sticking with me through all of this.”

She gave the back of my head a gentle peck. “No need to thank me, baby,” she said, her voice as steady as ever. “We’re in this together. Besides,” she added, a little smile creeping into her tone, “you’re the only thing that makes me want to come back to this shitty little village anymore. Honestly, I would have only come to see Joon and leave. Leave Cadoc to do all of the bureaucratic bullshit.”

A laugh escaped me, breaking through the quiet. “So we balance each other out, huh? Fire and ice?”

“Fire and ice,” she echoed, her eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of mischief. “But honestly, I think you’re more earth, and I’m made from… you know, air.”

“Smart ass.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And I did.

I stared into my drink, the amber liquid swirling in slow circles, like it was trying to keep up with the chaos in my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was still there, still in that battle, still surrounded by everyone I loved. But it wasn’t real, it never had been. It was just a nightmare.

In my dream, I was the last one standing. Everyone else had fallen—one by one—until it was just me, surrounded by their bodies, faces twisted in pain, fading into the smoke and ash. I’d thought I could protect them, thought I could stop the inevitable. But then the elves charged, all of them, eyes cold and faces unforgiving. I fought, I fought until my muscles gave out, but it was no use. Alone, I couldn’t stop them. And I couldn’t save the people who mattered most.

I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to remember how I felt, standing there with my sword in my hand, a useless piece of steel against the weight of the world. But it kept creeping back into my mind, dragging me back into the nightmare, every little detail too vivid, too real. I didn’t know how long I’d been walking, but somehow, my feet had carried me to the tavern in the middle of the night. The place was dark, almost empty, just the kind of place I could lose myself in.

I ordered a drink. And then another. And another. The whiskey burned going down, but it didn’t burn enough to erase the feeling of emptiness in my chest. The same emptiness that had been there in the dream, the same cold weight of knowing I was the only one left.

The tavern was its usual self—a loud, dim blur of voices and clinking glasses, the smell of stale beer hanging in the air. But none of it mattered. I could barely hear it over the pounding in my head. The world outside seemed far away, like I was in a different place entirely, a place where none of it had ever happened, where I hadn’t failed them all.

I watched the glass in my hand, the whiskey still swirling in lazy circles. No matter how much I drank, it wouldn’t stop the dream from coming back. It wouldn’t bring them back. It wouldn’t fix what was broken inside me.

Then the door swung open, and a familiar laugh sliced through the noise, grating and sharp. I glanced up to see Ji-Hyun stepping into the dim light, his mouth twisted into that smug, careless grin he always wore. He spotted me right away, and instead of looking the other way, like any decent person would, he headed straight for me. My chest tightened, and I could already feel my hand curling into a fist around my glass.

“Well, well, look who’s here,” he said, sliding onto the stool beside me without an invitation. “Didn’t expect to find you out, Yoongi.”

I forced the anger down, keeping my eyes on my drink. “I don’t expect to find you anywhere.”

Ji-Hyun laughed. “Cali keeps me on a tight leash, I’ll admit it. Got lucky tonight, though. She’s helping her momma knit some new clothes for the copiae, and I was able to sneak out.”

“Poor me.”

“I’m not that bad, hyung.”

The honorific was a surprise to me. As long as I had known the kid, he had been a walking dichotomy. Arrogant and condescending, but respectful and always keeping his manners. Still, he had never been quite as kind to the witches. I think our loyalty to Y/N didn’t make his life much easier, especially when his camp of dissenters quickly grew scarce and then disappeared altogether. He was the only person in town besides Bo who didn’t like Y/N, and even he sometimes was quick to criticize Bo’s more “ridiculous” reasoning for being so anti-Y/N.

Jealousy over someone else was petty. The death of a friend and three dozen village members was more than enough for Ji-Hyun’s open disgust at people like us who still loved her.

He was a very black-and-white thinker, and yet there was some space for nuance.

For example, he had never called me “Hyung” before, despite the fact that I’m three years older than him.

“No,” I took a sip of my drink. “You’re pretty fucking terrible.”

That only made him laugh harder. Had to admit, he looked a lot like his older brother when he did that.

“Only because you’re blinded by loyalty and I’m not,” he flagged down the bartender. “Not to Y/N at least. I am to my people, and I have a different opinion than everyone else.”

“Because you’re wrong.”

“No,” he stopped talking and gave Yala his order before turning back to me. “Think about it from my perspective. She saw the future, knew something bad was going to happen, and didn’t tell anyone but her loyalists. One of them being you. Don’t you see how that could piss off a guy?”

I had tried having this conversation with him before, but it had never gone this well. It was weird to think I’d thought this was going to be a fight. Maybe he was more like Jimin than I gave him credit for.

“She didn’t see the future,” I sighed, finishing off my glass. “Y/N can’t see the future. She was getting possessed by spirits who weren’t able to show her very much. It was vague, and she only told me because Thelma—the woman raising the real future-seer—came by and said something bad was coming. We should all be mad at Thelma if we’re using your metrics.”

“But she owed my brother that loyalty and respect, and she didn’t give it to him.”

Oh, that was fucking rich.

“You are such a fucking hypocrite,” I muttered, my voice low. I hoped he’d take the hint and leave, but he just laughed. “You don’t get to say shit like that and expect me to take you seriously.”

“Oh, I don’t?” He leaned in closer, his breath reeking of arrogance. “Last time I checked, I was free to say whatever I wanted. She wasn’t exactly the saint you all like to pretend she was.”

That was it. I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I straightened up, turning to face him, letting all the anger I’d been holding back show. “You’re one to talk. You want to talk about loyalty and respect to your brother? It’s your fault this entire shitshow went to hell in the first place.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back, completely unfazed. “Oh, please, don’t put that on me. What did I do, exactly?”

I clenched my jaw, struggling to keep calm. “You told Sol about Y/N’s plan after you snuck around like the dirty rat you are. You went behind your brother’s back and fed lies to the most immature and naive person in this entire village to lie about his fiancé. It’s your fault the story was twisted, your fault she ran to your brother, and you sat back like a coward and let it happen. If you were so fucking loyal to your brother, you would have understood that he loved that girl and you would have been there with him.”

Ji-Hyun snorted, a bitter laugh escaping him. “Oh, so now I’m responsible for her choices? Bridd wanted to play hero. She got what she deserved.”

“What about when everyone said that about Callisto?” Ji-Hyun looked surprised. “Yeah, I heard all about your girl getting beat up by a few of the wolves in town after you mated with her. And you know who helped you out? Jimin. You are no better than a bully, and you ganged up on a girl who gave up her entire life and future to help your people, and then because you’re so fucking entitled, and it wasn’t good enough for you, you decided to ruin your brother’s life just to get back at her? You think we didn’t lose people? Cordelia was like a second mother to Y/N when she was younger, and she had to find her dead body. She saved Hoseok’s life!”

“And none of that would have happened if she had said something.”

And then I snapped.

My fist connected with his jaw, and for a split second, everything felt right again. Like I was myself. Ji-Hyun stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise, but it didn't last. His face twisted with anger, and before I knew it, he grabbed my collar, his grip like iron. Then his fist met my cheek, and the world tilted. Pain exploded, but weirdly, it felt good to feel something.

The tavern erupted around us—shouts, scraping chairs, breaking glass—but it all faded into the background. All I could see was Ji-Hyun, and the anger that mirrored my own. The satisfaction of hitting him still buzzed under my skin. I wanted to swing again, to make him hurt like I was hurting.

Then someone yanked me back. Strong hands pulled me away, and I spun around, fists still clenched. It was Jimin. His eyes were hard, jaw set in that way that meant he was beyond mad. "That's enough," he said, his voice cutting through the noise. It wasn't loud, but it didn't need to be.

He held my gaze, and I felt something inside me crumble. Disappointment. That's what I saw in his eyes, and it stung more than Ji-Hyun's punch.

Ji-Hyun wiped blood from his lip, smirking. "Keep your little witch on a leash," he spat before turning and storming out. His words hung in the air, heavy and poisonous.

Jimin's grip on my arm loosened but didn't let go. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly. I didn't have an answer. Couldn't find words that made any sense.

I pulled away, my cheek throbbing, and headed back to the bar. The room spun a little, or maybe that was just me. I sank onto the stool, ignoring the bartender's wary glance. My drink was still there, so I took a long sip, letting the burn distract me.

The whispers started then. People pretending not to stare while definitely staring. Great. Just what I needed.

Ji-Hyun's words replayed in my head. He'd called me pathetic. Said she didn't care about me. No matter how much I tried to drown it out, it clung to me like smoke.

Bridd would've smacked me upside the head for that stunt. Told me to stop acting like an idiot. She always knew how to pull me back when I was spiraling. But she wasn't here.

I felt the weight of Jimin's gaze before I saw him. He stood a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, expression unreadable. Part of me wanted him to say something—to yell at me, to tell me I'd screwed up. But he just sighed and walked away, leaving me with my tangled thoughts.

I stared into my glass, the amber liquid swirling like a tiny storm. Maybe Ji-Hyun was right. Maybe I was pathetic. A witch without magic is just... nothing.

The noise of the tavern pressed in—laughter, clinking glasses, snippets of conversations. It was too much. I needed air.

I slipped off the stool, the floor tilting a bit under my feet. Ignoring the curious looks, I headed for the door and stepped out into the night.

The cool air hit me, and I sucked in a deep breath. The sky stretched out above, stars scattered like thrown confetti. I walked until the sounds from the tavern faded, finding a quiet spot near an old oak tree.

I sat down on the grass, leaning back against the rough bark. The ground was damp and cool, seeping through my clothes, but I didn't care. Tilting my head back, I gazed up at the stars. They were blurry around the edges, but constant. Unchanging.

I closed my eyes, the fatigue washing over me like a wave. The fight, the anger, the emptiness—it all felt distant now. Out here, under the vast sky, I could almost pretend that things were okay.

Sleep tugged at me, and for once, I didn't fight it. I let the darkness wrap around me, pulling me under. Just for a little while, I could escape.

Taglist: @greezenini @adventures-in-bookland @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @zae007live @jimin-neverout @nikkiordonez12 @canarystwin @yamekomz @chimthicc @michiiedreamer @amorieus @mima795 @yunki-yunki-yunki

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chihoshisai · 4 months ago

Text

Double Arrangement

Sabo x Reader

Part 1 Part 2

cw : royalty au, strangers to lovers, arranged/political engagement, reader is royalty, sabo is cold (but will warm up over time), fem reader // wc : 2.7k // A/N : Chapter was originally 7k words but has been cut in half because I judged it too long for tumblr, so part four will be longer

Part 3

“Reduce the budget set aside for the ball, and the volume of dishes as well,” you told your elder brother. Having found your way into his office — furnished with more books than furniture, large windows and an overall navy blue color— without seeing the need of an appointment due to your familial bonds, you watched as he stopped scribbling to give you an imposing look. He seemed to give you a moment to reconsider your words and take them back had they been spoken out of folly, and though you felt intimidated by his silent pressure you maintained your ground.

After some time had passed and he conceded to your determination, he asked rather darkly. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

The pen he had been holding got placed down, and his hands intertwined, signifying he now was according you his full attention. “What is your reasoning behind such a request?”

“I would like for us to take into consideration the likings of my fiance.”

He gave a rather offending scoff. “Does that include for the royal family to appear foolish as well?” His gaze on you remained sharp even while the ridicule of his words sent a puff of shame to your cheeks.

“Surely you jest.”

“Unfortunately dear sister the castle has a certain face and decorum to maintain. Surely your beloved can understand that?” He brought his chin to rest on the back of his joined hands, giving you silent instructions through his face to let the truth reach, and convince, your fiance.

You shook your head, standing your ground. “And as the trendsetter of the kingdom, we can also encourage and set a model for the nobles to follow. One that involves the decrease of abundant waste.” Your desire to appear more than a figurehead reflected not only in your immovable posture, but also through the beating of your heart, wishing to win your plea.

“It will not be easy.”

“Oh please,” you blinked to hide an eyeroll. “We all know everything is mostly for wealth display and no one ever eats that amount of food anyways. You're not powerless either and can make it happen.”

Your brother narrowed his gaze. “What is the reason behind your insistence? Is all well between you and your fiance?”

A pause occurred in which you pursed your lips, memories painting the blank canevas of your mind. “All will be if you do as I ask of you. Might I remind you, the event isn’t only about me after all.”

He sighed while shaking his head, but finally by the look of his untensing shoulders, he seemed to give in. “If we proceed, a valuable reason must be given to convince the nobles of the display.”

At the hearing of his words, you had to suppress your glee. “Say the union between royal and noble isn’t about showing off the wealth of one but balancing both on the same pedestal.”

Your brother mused on the idea for a second. “The family in question might find offense in this,” he gave as a last resort rebuttal.

You thought back on their words and ungrateful behavior towards a gift many would have appreciated and found value in. “Their problem, not mine,” you waved your hand as though their opinion was benign. “I don’t care as long as this will satisfy the one that matters.”

“Fine,” a compromising sigh heaved itself from his lips. “What more do you have in mind?”

You grinned, taking further steps towards his desk to partake in the sharing of your ideas, a slight nerve tingling down your stomach.

--------------

The castle busied itself beyond usual on the said morning — you were the first child to be engaged, first of the kingdom to soon administer such news to the populace. As such, it holded a rather significant meaning necessitating grand preparations, which you had personally asked to turn down a notch. As you heard the clamor and running steps of staff, the whispers of the maids, it dawned upon you that no one would criticize or point blame in your direction for holding such a downgraded ceremony. And you felt bad for your brother who shouldered the nation on his shoulders, therefore thinking of making it up to him someday.

Modesty was what you envisioned, what brought you to stroll down the gilded corridors of your mansion, towards the location of the event and to witness the fruit of your scheming. A secret meddling in which you had faith your brother would have upheld, considering he had never failed you once in the past.

It was nearing midday, a time in which preparations were nearing their end and in which your liberty lasted before the excruciating hours of bodily prepping and glamoring for the ball happened. Finding the excitement of a child, you skipped, not without proper respect, over servants and flight of stairs to reach the main floor and ultimately the ballroom.

What you saw, much in increase to the tying knot of your insides, your heart and your breathing, was… dumbfounding. Defeat was what you felt, while your eyes circled over many rows of yet to be lit chandeliers, falling from the ceiling like golden jewels when you had asked a single one to be placed in the center of the room. Horror choked you, when amidst those were encircled the signature wisteria flowers of the garden, with promises of soft fragrances throughout the night.

The worst of it all, what caused you to feel lightheaded and zydizziness, sharp and ruthless in its provoking your suppress anger, was not the amount of tables set, for they were the same as you instructed, but the lining of the nappe used. Its lace linen, far more detailed and precise, done by handy crafting skills that must have taken an eternity to unjustly paid workers, the bows attached to hang as a need for details and it's overall palette matching the golden beige of the room with subtle lilac flowers to reflect the colors cascading from overhead.

This was, truly was not what was previously agreed upon. After your eyes had analyzed the room with your chest heaving in an anxious way, they scavenged the personnel present for the traitor who had allowed this foolery.

He was there; your brother — standing further in the midst of the room, his lavish clothing allegorating his importance next to the servants he spoke with, and finding place next to the similar garments of your mother.

Seeing her, you quelled your rising anger, fearing a stern reprimand and coldly let the sounds of your heels announce your arrival.

“Sister, you're here,” your brother greeted with a well hidden guilty face.

You clenched your jaw, returning politeness through gritted teeths. “Mama. Brother.”

“How do you like it?” Your mother looked you dead in the eyes, giving you a faint smile, leaving you self-conscious of the feelings that were currently suppressing themselves inside you. She wanted without a doubt for you to feel your happiest and satisfied with things.

“It’s more detailed than I expected,” you gave her a stiff, forced smile. One that you gave whenever you felt empathetic of her feelings.

“Well of course, dear child,” she waved your remark with a shroud hand. “It is a ball, it must look as such. You wouldn't have believed the state of the room when I first got in. It looked quite drab.”

The comment landed on your heart rather bitterly and with no words left to offer, you gave a chuckle.

“Isn't it about time you went on to prepare yourself?” She pointed out, joining her hands together in a stout manner to look at your attire.

You nodded, refuting her words far from being a possibility. “Before that, could I have a word with his Majesty?” You purposefully called your brother by his title, a silent threat that had not failed to stiffen his shoulders.

“Of course, I will leave you children to it,” your mother gave a slight smile, feeling happy of the celebration no doubt, before she trailed away to further attend to the room's composition.

Once out of earshot, you shot an angry glare at your brother. “This is not what we agreed on,” you whispered viciously, tilting on your heels to face him.

He, making no attempt to show emotions on his face, returned a devoid expression by staring away from your eyes. “As you can see, mother's had a hand in it. There wasn't much I could do once it came to it.”

You pressed your joined palms until a sharp pain prevented you from losing the grip on your temper. “I came to you so this could be avoided.”

“Count yourself lucky sister, this is the best she could do with the budget restriction. And even then, for a ball thrown by the royal family it still falls under the label of simple.” He gave you a look, one that impelled you to shut it and accept facts as they were.

Yet, frustration still swelled inside you like a ripped apple, and as it spread you couldn't stop your tongue from running. “For God's sake, you're the king.” The words left as a high ushered whisper.

“And she's our mother,” he harshly spat in your face, startling you enough to recoil your neck to the back. “I did my part as best I could and you are welcomed,” he heaved a dry sigh to the side. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a list of tasks awaiting me other than dolling myself up for hours.”

Your elder brother walked past you, exposing you to stand amidst the room, laying bare, bitter and out of options. Refusing to cast suspicion on yourself after your talk, you turned your heels away, making sure not to cause eye contact with another soul in the room and exited its vicinity.

There was nothing to be done, your brother had been right in the sense that defying your mother would be as easy as seeking immortality. Therefore, with tainted red feelings as companions, you coursed through the palace, your expression grim all the way to your room. Your sole consolation was, perhaps with enough convincing, that Sabo would come to believe you if you claimed to have arranged for things to be otherwise.

If your words were your consolation, you realized, as the door of your chambers trapped you inside with its closing, that you still retained power — no one could enforce an attire on you. Not your brother, nor your mother who had, after many years of proven worth, allowed you the choosing of your gowns at your own discretion.

As such, when your lady-in-waiting and maids came to fuss over you upon your entering, a smile had found its way on your face.

But not for long — many times in the past, ever since the first crack of dawn broke through the sky, punctual in its glowing duty, you had been forced, dragged, entailed to sit through a full prepping routine. This time was no different, if only for the hour of the day. By prepping we’re talking massages, haircare and skincare. Every inch of your body, from the thinnest strands of hair to the nails of your toes was touched, handled, with attention and care meticulously..

If not for your position requiring for you to be handheld, like the nurturing of a garden by others since birth, you probably would have felt overstimulated — there was no need for you to lift a finger, as you let yourself lay about, giving idle thanks to the perhaps honest compliment of your staff. This time, the endless routine was what bothered you more than feeling the dry, moist or damp hands of your selected personnel. Laying down for a facemask while a pedicure was being done, bathing in a rose and citrus scented bath, sitting for a scalp massage; it never ended nor did you see its necessity. Rather you doubted it, shuddering at mental images you formed of Sabo had you the willpower to tell him of your day. For that reason, it would undoubtedly remain as a hidden fact, even if he did suspect how much water, products and whatnot was used, lost, wasted.

You couldn't hide the results of the ballroom, but your own self-care was different.

By the time the ginger colors of dusk warmly embraced your room, a reminder to the time to come, you stood; detailed undergarments on your shoulders awaiting for the final piece of clothing to be brought.

“Are you sure about this dress, your highness?” One of your maids asked, holding the item in question in a way that revealed its full length. A satin pastel lilac ankle length dress, detailed with short puff sleeves and golden flower embroidery on its core. It was a simple dress, one that wouldn't entice a second look your way. One unfit for a ball, let alone royalty.

“Yes. Put it on me please,” you had, with Sabo's taste in mind, chosen it for its modest aspect. And to your eyes, it didn't fail to strike you as pretty. In fact it would, were it worn for another occasion.

Your maid did as ordered ; slipping the fabric with ease on your body, attaching a simple white pearl necklace decorated with a metallic golden bow, placing similarly colored Huggies earrings and a brooch attached to the side of your hair.

After the fitting of lilac heels, your prepping had come to an end, much to your relief and the fragrant way in which your muscles relaxed under your skin despite your growing anxiety. You stood in front of your mirror, turning only your neck to scrutinize the final result — the impersonating of a lowly born noble daughter at best was the image exuded.

However, it didn't register as such to your mind, instead thinking whether the golden embroidery might have been a notch too much and would displease Sabo. Worse have him criticize your taste. Lost in your musing, you ignored the subtle silent fretting of your maids that lined up in a corner of the room, frankly aware that your current attire far from undermined all you had ever worn.

What came to interrupt your moment, was the knocking on your door. You turned your head momentarily from the mirror, feeling the beat of your heart increase for you knew who stood behind it. “Come,” you commanded loudly.

Seeing your mother enter, you returned your attention to the mirror, her silence broken only by the clacking sound of her heels. Your years of experience told you that the longer it lasted, the angrier she was or worse, the backlash would be.

She circled you like a hawk, her eyes piercing layers of thick skins, edging you to falter. “Is this your way of opposing this mariage?” She asked, having stopped to stand on your left, her gaze ever so burning you.

“I would never dare do such a thing,” you kept your look straight, staring only at yourself in the mirror.

“Frugality has no such place at a ball,” her words, uttered dryly, seemed to have dried along the air entering and exuding from your lungs.

“Call it simplicity, mama.”

She surprised you, only enough to compel you to look at her from the mirror, by scoffing at your claim. “Simplicity? I will not let you embarrass yourself,” she spoke sternly.

At this, having not found her support, you broke free from the spell of the mirror to face her. “What else can they do but gossip? Let them if they want to,” you spoke briefly of the guests without care. “Is this ball not in honor of my engagement mother? I at least wish to wear what I want,” your chest heaved from the air it had finally found.

“How stubborn you have grown,” she looked you up and down rather pitifully. “Yet still remains a child,” she looked away to step aside to face the servants. “Mount her hair in an updo with more accessories.”

“Mama—”

“It is a command,” she gravely looked at you, much to shroud the voice in your throat. “Add braids to her hair, perhaps it will help salvage the mess,” she ordered towards the staff, before giving you a last look. “Let lessons be learned tonight if necessary.”

This time, she excused herself completely from the room, the closing of the door resonating like the drums of insecurity that roused deep from your stomach. There was no doubt you had disappointed her, and yet, maybe out of pity or mercy, she had let you do as you pleased; not forcing you to change out your gown. You stared at the door, dreading what would await you beyond its path following the first objective reaction you had received.

“Princess, we must do your hair by order of the Queen Dowager,” one of your servants politely asked of you.

You nodded, with no better choice but to obey.

Part 4

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myteavsricochet · 1 year ago

Text

Favorite firstprince fanfics, an incomplete list:

One shots:

All the Stars We Steal From the Night Sky :

Alex is quiet, and something is wrong.

Or, Alex struggles with emotions and Henry is there to help.

(Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically Just Them Being Soft, Alex is struggling, Henry helps)

In His Wildest Dreams

Set in and around the Henry bonus chapter, this is a story about Henry and Alex’s hectic schedules, family appearances etc. Pulling them apart, and about what starts to happen between them, in the quiet of night: their sleeping bodies turning to each other, finding their sweet spots and opening up. And Alex and Henry learning a lot about each other in the process.

(Please, look at the tags carefully, this fic is very soft, very hot and very consensual but may not be for everyone: Consensual somnophilia, Kink exploration, Porn with feelings, Smut)

5 times Alex called Henry baby ‘casually’ and 1 time it was (definitely) because of love

How did “baby” become a thing in the film universe? When did it become a thing in the film universe? Fine, I’ll answer these questions myself.

(Additional Tags: Overuse of the word "baby", Pet Names, Fluff, Angst, 5+1 Things, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mild Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort)

Who could ever leave me darling, but who could stay?

Alex has always been too much. Objectively, he knows this. He talks too much, his volume is too much, and the fire under his ass is too much. So, when he’d met Henry, when he hadn’t cared about Henry’s opinion and had been his real, authentic, annoying self, and Henry had liked him anyway? It was something Alex struggled to wrap his head around. It started in kindergarten.

Or: A look at Alex's childhood and how hard it is always being the too-much person in any given room.

(Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Post-Canon, Childhood, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, So much comfort)

Déjame Ver Cómo Es Que Floreces

Oscar gets in close and bluntly asks, “Earlier. In the bathroom. Did you do it?”

Alex scoffs, “No. Don't be a perv. Why would you wanna know that anyway?”

Oscar rolls his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter, chamaco. Did you propose?”

Ah.

Henry is introduced to the extended Diaz side of the family at their matriarch's birthday. Shenanigans (and romance and feelings) ensue.

(This fic is absolutely amazing ❤️

Additional Tags: Humor, Fluff, Family Fluff, Pre-Engagement, Mexican-American Culture, Mexican OC's galore, Drinking, Family Bonding, Karaoke, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Alex Claremont-Diaz Speaks Spanish)

Forty-Four Days

"God, I haven't seen you in forty-four days," Alex suddenly spits, and Henry feels the pain of his words in his own chest, like ice replacing the blood in his veins. Because that's it, isn't it? Forty-four days of separation. Forty-four days of waking up to an empty bed, of making coffee along with his tea only to realize that Alex isn't there to drink it, of long meetings without any of Alex's witty jokes, of cold hands on chilly autumn walks because Alex isn't there to warm them up.

Maybe it's the simple fact of hearing for the first time, or maybe it's the tipping point of the taxing day, but Henry feels something inside of him snap, and —

And all he knows is that he needs to see Alex now.

(Additional Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Separations, Separation Anxiety, Late Night Conversations, Minor Character Death, but it's nothing to worry about I PROMISE, Reunions, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Mild Sexual Content, they love and miss each other, that's the plot, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant)

A Mind That Never Sleeps

Five times Alex stays awake with Henry, and the one time he coaxes him back to sleep.

(Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Insomnia, Sleepless nights, Piano, Weddings, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, that's really all this is, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant)

talk too much

Alex has his wisdom teeth removed and Henry takes care of him, fluff ensues

(Additional Tags: wisdom teeth removal, not bloody or graphic, just fluff, pure fluff, No Angst, Henry Pov, firstprince, living in the brownstone, FLUFF I TELL YOU, Henry taking care of Alex, and Alex taking care of Henry too hehe, You’ll see)

silk and steel

Thanks to a welcome day off, Henry and Alex spend a lazy morning in bed. Soft, mid-morning cuddles escalate into semi-soft, mid-morning sex.

(Addictional tags: Morning cuddles, Morning sex, Body worship, Light dom/sub, Praise kink, Established relationship, Top Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Bottom Alex Claremont Diaz)

I don't wanna dance, if I'm not dancing with you

"You want me at a ball?"

"I want you with me as often as possible," Henry says, immediately, as if it's obvious. Maybe it is. "But yes, it would be nice to have you there. I'm not necessarily actively trying to anger my grandmother, which you being there might, but... Well, she hasn't exactly extended an invitation but I have just as much right as anyone to bring a date and--"

"Baby." Henry's rambling stops short on what nearly sounds like a gasp, and Alex grins to himself. Sometimes, his boyfriend is too easy. "Do you want me there?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll be there."

----

or, Henry wants Alex at a ball and Alex is anxious about it.

(Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Ballroom Dancing, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has ADHD, Hurt/Comfort)

If You Hold Me Without Hurting Me, You’ll Be the First Who Ever Did

Henry feels himself aching for Alex—this Alex, the one who’s at home in Texas, the one who’s vulnerable and free—and he sees the ache reflected in Alex’s eyes.

The first night they spend at the lake house, before Alex wakes up with Henry's swimsuit tangled around his elbow.

(Additional Tags: Emotions, Anal Sex, Bottom Henry, alex calling henry baby, henry calling alex love, Boys In Love, Porn with Feelings, Henry Pov, so it's a wee bit angsty)

love dares you, to change our way of caring about ourselves

Henry has read it all: fairy-tales of princes and their courters, unsung histories of kings and their secret lovers, and he has read all their happy endings. But he is not a prince in a fairy-tale, and he has always thought his own secret love story was likelier to end in tragedy.

Perhaps it’s time that changed.

(Or, Henry’s POV the morning after The Great Claremont-Diaz Ambush at Kensington Palace)

Let Me Hold Your Head in My Hands

Alex has a migraine.

Henry takes care of him.

(Additional Tags: Sickfic, Sick Character, Boys In Love, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Idiots in Love, Headaches & Migraines, Tooth-Rotting Fluff,Domestic Fluff, Bathtubs)

you would not believe your eyes (if ten million fireflies)

Alex and Henry are staying at Alex’s house in Texas. Henry has never seen fireflies before, and Alex can’t let him get away without the experience of catching one.

Or,

Alex is helplessly in love with Henry.

(Additional Tags: Fluff, Alex Claremont-Diaz Loves Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, Summer, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, firefly catching, Fireflies, Lightning bugs, Texas)

Promises, Promises.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes again.

The corner of Henry’s mouth does the thing it does. His walls are back up.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” he mutters, before turning on his heel and marching down the hall.

——

Alex has never felt so horrible. And 3 days is a long time.

(Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Arguing, Fights, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, Alex Claremont-Diaz Loves Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Stressed Alex Claremont-Diaz, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Anxiety, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has Abandonment Issues, Abandonment Issues, Leaving Home)

The Red Side Goes Up

Henry brings home a little something new to try in the bedroom. Or: The One Where Alex Gets Jealous of a Butt Plug.

(Additional Tags: Smut, Rimming, Sex Toys, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Post-Canon)

(all of me changed like) midnight rain

“They’re fighting again,” he whispers instead. Henry’s eyes are sad.

“I know, love.”

Or, 5 times Alex believes his relationship with Henry won't last, and 1 time he knows it will.

Or, 5 times Alex doesn't believe in love because of his parents and 1 time Henry proves him wrong.

(Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Established Relationship, Breaking Up & Making Up, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Divorce, Canonical Divorce, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Song: Midnight Rain (Taylor Swift), Depression, References to Depression)

We'll Get Together Then

5+1 times Oscar was a good dad to Henry (ft. Abuelo Oscar)

(Additional Tags: Henry and Oscar bonding, 5+1 Things, I have Feelings about their relationship, Arthur's death is mentioned)

The Bet

Looking back at it, it's all Nora's fault.

Or, the time Henry and Alex bet on who can last the longest without sex.

(Additional Tags: Bets & Wagers, No sex bet, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, but it gets resolved eventually, Wet Dream, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Porn With Plot, like it kind of has a plot, Mostly just porn though, Kissing, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Riding, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Switching, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant)

What Kind of Day Has It Been

Even after thirty-odd years of being together (twenty-five of those married) Henry still has to drag Alex away from his desk and up to bed. Even just a few days after routine surgery Alex can't help himself.

(Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Boys In Love, Kissing, Married Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor)

take a bite, babe

And, well, Henry can no longer lie to himself. He couldn’t be more in love with Alex if he tried.

Or: five moments Henry notices Alex’s eyelashes (and falls a little more in love).

I miss you, i'm sorry

"I—I’m killing myself trying to make this work, trying to make both you and my family happy, living on planes, and it’s still not enough for you? I don’t know what else to do.”

“Well, I’m sorry it’s so hard for you to be with me,” Alex says bitterly, wiping furiously at his eyes and refusing to meet Henry’s.

"Alex—"

“No,” Alex interrupts angrily, “get it off your chest! I can’t wait to hear all about how much work I am to be with. You know what, if you’re just gonna leave me again then you might as well go ahead and do it now. Save us both the hurt.”

Or: the fight.

(Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Fighting, Healthy Relationships, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has Abandonment Issues, Comfort, Healthy Conflict Resolution, Conflict Resolution)

Too Much

Okay, so maybe Alex talked too much for them. It was fine. He could still sit with them at lunch, he just had to make sure not to talk so much. Just listen to them. He could do that.

The next day, and the day after, Alex sat with the same group of kids. Only, he no longer went on rants about movies or books or what he saw on the news that morning or what his parents talked/argued over at dinner.

Alex stayed silent, desperate to not be too much.

***

OR 5 times the people in Alex's life thought that he was too much + one time Henry assured him that he wasn't.

(Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Hurt/Comfort, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has ADHD, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author Projecting, author's first fic)

the common tongue of you loving me

Where did kissing come from? Henry has always wondered. Why kisses? At the beginning of history, which long forgotten person, which ancestor of all mankind, was the first to press their lips to another’s in a declaration of their love?

Was it a lover, perhaps, so consumed with devotion that they sought to use lips as well as fingertips? All followed the base urge of their bodies — the innate knowledge that the pressing of lips was the highest form of touch. But no one knows why.

Except when Alex quirks his cupid’s bow, licks into Henry’s mouth and lets his bottom lip rest on Henry’s, and oh. Henry knows.

(Additional Tags: Kissing, henry has so many feelings about kissing, Explicit Sexual Content, Grinding, Frottage)

All Your Closets Of Backlogged Dreams

It’s not that the loss of the President’s oldest child is a secret. It’s just that nobody talks much about the death of Catalina June Claremont-Diaz.

It takes Alex years before he talks to Henry about her.

(The painful story no one asked for that ties June into the movie.)

(Additional Tags: Past Character Death, Canon - Book & Movie Combination, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has ADHD)

i'm so in love (i might stop breathing)

He looks so fucking gorgeous like this, eyes half-lidded as he looks at Alex. He rests his head on Alex's chest, tightening his arms. Alex can see the tips of his ears turning pink.

"It's ! H G E J F M W C D 2 4 !" he mumbles in embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of Alex's neck again. A beat of silence.

Then, almost shouting in joy, Alex yells, "Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor- Claremont-Diaz! That's your fucking password?"

"Shut up!" Henry hisses and Alex feels so many butterflies in his stomach that he's going to throw himself off of a cliff. Really, teenage girls with celebrity crushes have nothing on him at this moment.

or,

Henry is drunk and Alex is so in love he could die.

(being with you) makes the flame burn good

“Ah, would you look at that,” Alex says hoarsely, breaking the kiss, “Looks like you got a bit of batter on your neck.”

He lowers his head and licks a stripe up Henry's neck until his tongue reaches the spot below his ear and Henry shudders slightly in his arms.

“Tastes so good, baby,” Alex teases and fits his thigh between Henry's legs, feeling how hard he is and how immediately he grinds against Alex's body, searching for any form of relief.

“Oh, piss off,” Henry breathes and tangles his hands in Alex's curls, fisting his hand lightly and moving his hips a little faster.

(Additional Tags: Married Alex Claremont-Diaz and Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Kitchen Sex, Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Laughter During Sex, Body Worship, Sort Of, Hickeys, Begging, Praise Kink, Nipple Play, surprisingly there's NO food play in this, Dom Alex, Sub Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor)

we thought we ruled the world

Alex stares down at his latest text from Henry. A link to an article he’s seen about ten versions of so far. He’s managed to resist clicking on any of them, but now Henry is sending it, so he supposes he should at least give it a skim.

How Prince Henry’s Relationship With FSOTUS Lost Ellen Claremont The Election

............

Or, what would have happened if Ellen lost.

(Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, mostly happy at least)

pictures of you

Henry has seen photos of Alex before, of Alex’s easy grin and disarming smirk, wild curls awry and lean muscles on casually stretched biceps. He’s seen countless photos of him before.

But.

Alex has never sent him a photo before. Not like this.

---

Five times Alex sends Henry a selfie from bed (+ one time Henry sends him one)

the dresden dilemma

The Crown had expectations when it sent a member of the royal family abroad but after a handful of years navigating said expectations, Alex and Henry had become adept at circumventing them when possible. Like tonight: They were supposed to be in Berlin for the weekend, but after a bit of needling and a lot of promises to behave, Alex had convinced Shaan to arrange for them to spend at least one night outside of the city.

Dresden, Alex had argued, was close enough to Berlin that they weren't really disobeying the Crown and besides, what harm could a single night in Dresden do?

(Additional Tags: Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, Established Relationship, Alex Claremont-Diaz has Trauma, cause he's an american kid and who doesn't, or at least he thought, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Fireworks, School Shootings, implied/referenced anyway, Guns)

the clementine thing

And, really, it doesn’t matter whether or not Alex explains it to Liam and the rest of his friends. They’ve never really discussed it between themselves through the years. Slowly, Alex had gone from asking Would you please peel this for me? to Please? to silently extending the citrus without any comment at all, just a soft smile. It’s one of the things that make them Alex-and-Henry; the silent conversations and the contentment in each other’s company.

Now, as Alex starts to flourish through his position on the lacrosse team, his slew of AP classes, and his role in student government, getting him to slow down at all is a feat. The only way that Henry can do it, guaranteed, is by one of those innocuous little fruits. There’s nothing Alex can’t do—surely, he could peel a fucking orange if he felt so inclined—but Henry delights in being able to do this for him.

Five times Henry shares a clementine with Alex, and one time Alex returns the favor

(This is one of my favorites, please read this ❤️)

In the Low Lamp Light, I Was Free

“You wanna go again?” Alex asks, pressing the back of his head into the pillows, offering his throat more fully to Henry’s hungry mouth, and when Henry laughs and retrieves another condom and the little bottle of lube from his toiletry bag, he adds, “I had a thought, though. I thought, maybe… you could be inside me this time.”

(Movieverse; there were two condom wrappers on the floor in Paris.)

he is exactly the poem i wanted to write

There is no Turkey in Alex's room this year, but there is a prince.

AKA, Henry spends thanksgiving with Alex after the election and reflects on all of his dreams coming true.

(Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, so fluffy it borders on worshippy, Porn with Feelings)

we might fall

A little ficlet of Alex and Henry in the hammock. Metaphors about falling.

lifeline of mine

Henry hates hospitals, has hated them since he watched his father wither away in one that smelled just like this one, that had the same unsettling chill in the air. And every time he walked into a hospital after losing Arthur, he would see his father’s ashen face, would feel the ghost of his cold skin prickling his own, would hear the slowing beep of his heart monitor. And now, it’s Henry in a hospital bed, not knowing what’s wrong with his body. And he’s scared, and he’s thinking about Arthur and…

“I saw him,” Henry whispers.

(Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Major Character Injury, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hallucinations, Hospitals, Hospitalization, Hurt Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Worried Alex Claremont-Diaz, Sick Character, Sick Fic, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Needs a Hug, Forehead Kisses, Fever, Angst with a Happy Ending)

please don't ever become a stranger (whose laugh i could recognize anywhere)

Alex’s love language is physical touch.

Henry knows this—has known it from the first moment he’s met Alex, all wild curls and bright eyes and a smile that could breathe life into Henry’s little, fragile hife. He’d stuck out a hand at that first meeting, dejected when Henry didn’t even take it. Found a way to poke and prod Henry every single time they’d met after, sharp jabs hitting his shoulder and rough hits shoving him around.

Now, Alex’s fingers are gentle as they lace around his. His arms hold him tight to his chest. His hair tickles the nape of Henry’s neck, and the couch is entirely too small for the two of them but Henry doesn’t have the heart to kick him out.

Or, 5 times Alex clings tight to Henry and 1 time Henry finds out why.

Bear with me

The first time it happened, Henry was not having it.

“For the last time, I’m not helping you shave your arse.”

—

In which Alex is very hairy, and Henry sort of has a thing for it. Not that he'd admit it, though.

(Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Canon - Book, But can fit the movie verse too, tzp is a walking thirst trap, this was supposed to be crack but became quite serious real quick, Domestic Fluff, Mentions of Sex, No Smut, Body Hair Appreciation, Healthy Relationships)

i ask you how you’re doing (and i let you lie)

The first time Henry sees it happen, he knows instantly that it is not the first time it has ever happened. They’re sitting in the living room of the brownstone, the two of them surrounded by their favorite people in the world, a night of board games long abandoned in favor of mocking the eighth season of Game of Thrones.

“God, don’t you have an off switch?” June groans, laughing as she chucks a piece of popcorn in Alex’s direction while he rambles passionately about the international legal implications of the Red Wedding. Nora cackles. “Whatever you do to thank Henry for putting up with you, it’s not nearly enough. Jesus, I can’t believe he put a ring on your loud mouth.”

Or: Alex is fine. Really, he’s fine — he just wants Henry to stay, even if Alex is too much. Henry just wants his husband back.

but i'd put you first a million times over

Henry first noticed it shortly after the Waterloo incident. Apparently, it hadn’t been enough to thrust all their private thoughts and emails into the public eye; they had to be thrust into the limelight as well.

Or the 5 times Henry asked the Crown for better security, plus one time he no longer had to.

(Additional Tags: Protective Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Paparazzi, Hurt/Comfort, 5+1 Things, Hurt Alex Claremont-Diaz, Post-Canon)

in every scenario

Henry can practically hear Alex thinking. They’re curled up in bed, Alex’s head resting on his chest, and his mind is so loud. He can hear it in the rustling of the sheets, in Alex’s hand skating up his ribcage; the anxious curl of his toes against Henry’s ankles. He’s nearly vibrating with thought.

Henry’s hand tucks into the base of Alex’s spine. “Love,” he murmurs, ducking his chin to look down at his boyfriend. “What on earth are you thinking about?”

Or, Alex has something important on his mind.

Long fics:

all that glitters (is not gold)

Alex Claremont-Diaz has it all. His mom won the election, he’s got the perfect boyfriend. He gets to love Henry out loud. Everything is great. Perfect.

Except for the itch under his skin every time he goes outside, and the tightness in his chest when he goes online, and the fact that he can’t fucking sleep.

But it's fine. He's fine. Really.

—-

Or: after the emails, Alex Claremont-Diaz isn’t fine.

(The masterpiece. The firstprince sequel. The canon sequel.)

But I love him, whether or no.

Henry moves to New York City to help Pez with the opening of his new bar in the East Village. The location—fortunately for business, but unfortunately for Henry’s sanity—is directly across the street from a fire station. The sound of sirens is bad, Alex the gorgeous firefighter is worse. But when Alex helps Henry avoid a near catastrophe the night of the bar’s opening, the two form a tentative friendship that starts to develop into something more.

(Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Firefighter!Alex, Canon typical mental health issues for Henry, Canon typical struggles with grief for Henry, Canon typical child of divorce issues for Alex, Canon typical struggles with sexuality for Alex, Firefighter injuries, Hospitalization, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending)

the poem you make of me

After being discovered on Instagram as a teenager, Alex Diaz is thriving as a social media influencer and model who just landed a high profile, high fashion contract with Calvin Klein. Alex can get any girl he wants, and he’s loving it. Meanwhile, British poet Henry Fox has just arrived in L.A. to kick off a North American tour promoting his new, steamy book of gay erotic poetry, and he’s attracting a lot of attention.

Bad blood is immediately sparked between them when Henry blows Alex off at their first meeting. Several tabloid rumors and an Instagram tantrum later, Alex and Henry are reluctantly thrust together to make nice, resulting in a grudging friendship and a magnetism between them that Alex can't explain. Why is Henry's poetry making Alex feel like this? And just what is it about Henry Fox that gets to him so much?

God Save the Blessed American President Mom

["June stopped by at lunch; she showed me a delightful channel called Hallmark, which repeats the same story every hour after they swap one round of white, straight, small-town conventionally beautiful actors for another. It was entertaining.”

“June and I used to play a drinking game with those. Take a shot every time someone goes ice skating, sledding, or leaves the big city for their tiny hometown.”

“Good lord, you must’ve been sloshed in the first ten minutes.”]

***

On December 4, 2021, an attempt is made on President Ellen Claremont's life.

Alex gets shot instead.

How wonderful life is (while you're in the world)

The corner of Henry’s mouth. It’s disappeared now, covered by the oxygen mask fixed securely around his head, but if Alex concentrates hard enough, he can see it sprawled out in front of him. Every ridge, every bend and edge and turn of it.

He knows Henry’s heart. And that’ll be enough.

(or: the one where henry gets shot and alex is a goddamn mess.)

#it's been 84 years #but i did it #this is the longest post I've ever made #please don't ignore it #rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince fanfic #firstprince fic #rwrb fic #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor

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meanbossart · 7 months ago

Text

Ask Compilation: Advice, influences and Misc.

Apologies for taking so long on some of these, admittedly I'm much more likely to entirely forget about asks that are about me and my interests 💃 Thank you for all the questions regardless! And thank you specially to everyone who just drops nice messages into my inbox out of kindness.

I'm brazillian and a native portuguese speaker!

I'll probably return to twitter eventually, but a) I hate that place and b) It didn't make much sense to me to turn it into a BG3 account out of the blue. I am considering making an Instagram or a new twitter just to have more places where people can follow in case they don't care for tumblr, but it's just been a very busy year so far and so that's kind of low on the list of priorities. If I ever do that I'll be sure to announce it here. Have a nice day yourself!

Sorry to hear that! I've gotten a few messages before about this issue, and the problem is that since I am myself not from the US, my options are also limited :( a lot of patreon alternatives don't work for me because they either don't go through paypal, take insane currency conversion fees, or just straight up block me from signing up.

Speak for yourself, I just assume everyone I speak to online has committed some sort of atrocious crime until proven otherwise. Except for me - of course. I have never done anything bad in my life.

I still have a lot to learn! But I will basically use whatever works for me at the moment, as well as make a sincere effort to learn about musculature and anatomy so I can understand those components and how they move, instead of only knowing what they look like when still - that's how you get better at drawing from memory. Volume mostly comes from coloring and understanding light, which is it's own beast but can very much be learned from similar reference materials and observing it IRL!

My favorite places to get reference are medical diagrams, weird pictures I take of myself, 3D software (often Virt-a-mate) and questionably phrased image google searches.

My favorite artists are Jason Shawn Alexander and Sean Murphy, but I'm not sure how much of it reflects in my art nowadays! I generally seek to pick up techniques from artists rather than to emulate style.

Honestly I love that you guys generally do the thing he would hate the most: take him very non-seriously LOL

I've been in a real Chelsea Wolfe and Amyl And The Sniffers kick lately! But usually you'll also find me listening to stuff like Boy Harsher, Swans, FWF, JK Flesh Lingua Ignota, Nick Cave, David Bowie, and so on. Music for the weird gays, basically.

I went insane and wrote a 23-chapter-long-and-still-ongoing fic in like four months. But also - I'm not that good, I'm just shamelessly pretentious LOL

Hm. That's a good question, but I'm not really sure. Sincerely not trying to be a edgier-than-thou here (in fact, this has made me a little self conscious at one time or another) but a lot of art that I don't mean to be horror-y in nature at all has been associated with the genre. So perhaps I don't know what I'm doing either, LOL.

I think just leaning on making things look slightly "wrong" or "ugly" on purpose is the way, but I also find that if you just seek to depict people as they are instead of idealized versions of themselves, you will arrive at that either way.

Thank you for reading! Honestly, I'm guilty of having not read much at all since I was in my late teens, and the style I'm employing for ANE is very different from the things I would call "influential" for me, or even that I used to enjoy reading at all before. I read a lot of Chuck Palahniuk as a youth (and, no slight to people who do like him still, but nowadays I'm not sure why I ever did. His stories don't speak to me at all anymore) as well a lot of weird experimental lit that I didn't even care to remember the name of. My last book stint from one or two years ago was composed solely of historical and medical literature, and last year I got really into Cormac Mcarthy thanks to the internet.

So, all in all, I'm absolutely all over the place LOL if you put a gun to my head and told me to list my favorite books, I'd say The Indifferent Stars Above and Blood Meridian.

(Consider the reading portion of the question to have been answered above) I really really liked Beau is Afraid and think it's a really great "horror" movie. Sue me.

#ask compilation #ask

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treacheryinblue · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 2/4

A Noah Sebastian x F!Reader One Shot Series

Word Count: 7.1k

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (oral [f receiving], P in V obviously, touch of spanking), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff if you squint, slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to aka a one shot that's now a series. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Author's Notes: ( 1 ) Thank you sooo much for all the support this story has been given. It was never was supposed to be more than a one shot, but after all the excitement behind it, I've decided to make it into a short series! I'm going to try to keep it at four parts, just to show the lore behind the characters and also maybe why it's happening...if I can make my brain create such things. ( 2 ) PLEASE suspend all thoughts of how time works when reading this. Time is pretty much just NOT a thing in Noah's realm. It's nonlinear and I refuse to be tied down by it! Also, hopefully the context clues are obvious enough for people to pick up on what time period the female character is from in each chapter. If not, feel free to hit me with a question.

Happy reading! xoxo

“The Dark Lord will be pleased with this one.”

An unknown voice sounded out around you, immediately sending a chill down your spine. You heard yourself expel a whimper of fear as your hands responded by trembling in their bindings. The man must've noticed this because a sadistic sounding laugh rang out, echoing through wherever you were and reverberating in your ears.

How long had you been tied down to this slab of rock? It easily could've only been hours, though it felt like days. Weeks. An eternity. Nothing felt longer than waiting for your impending death.

“Please…” you pleaded in a soft and broken voice. “Let me go and I will make sure no harm comes of you.”

The men again cackled, the kind that you were sure had them gripping their bellies and arching back. Maybe it was a good thing you couldn't see their dirty faces and broken teeth taunting you. That would never be the last thing you'd want anyone to have to witness before their untimely demise.

“The blade. Now.”

Something cool pressed to your chest and immediately forced a slight gasp out of you. Again, you began to tear up and pull at your restraints, although you had no idea what you would do if you happened to free yourself. The noises you had picked up on told you that there were more than two people there, and after so long without food or water, you'd never be able to take them. You were doomed one way or the other.

As the blade traveled downwards, it was made to puncture and rip the bodice of your dress. Another set of hands tugged the thin fabric to further open it, revealing your bare torso beneath it.

“Please! Don't do this!” You cried, now feeling shame from being so exposed.

How horrible was it that you were briefly only concerned about what your mother and father would say of this? They'd scold you, hissing words of how it wasn't very ‘lady like’ and that ‘no man would want you now’. You would be the ‘shamed whore’ of your village.

Before those thoughts could lead with any traction, the sound of faint chanting snapped you from your own thoughts. It started as a whispering and ever so slowly began working its way higher and higher with every repeated line. Unfortunately, you couldn't make out any of the words. It was possible that it was in another language, though also likely that your sobs took the forefront of the focus.

As the volume grew, so did your fear. Your breathing was rapid and uneven, a cool sweat forming across your chest and along the back of your neck. It was not being able to see what was happening that was also truly terrifying. Your captors had blind folded you after securing you down, this being the last time you saw any of their faces. It had been days of darkness - if not longer.

The chanting had started increasing in pace. Voices roared all around you and you could sense someone probably just within your reach (had your hands been free) but they had yet to do or say anything. You sobbed beneath your blindfold, the ropes holding you down rubbing your poor wrists raw from how you had been desperately trying to pull them free. They burned with every motion, and you were sure blood had been coating them since day one. Not that anyone around cared enough to take note.

“Please!” You yelled again, the single worded plea broken from your constant waterfall of tears. You swore you even heard another chuckle from right beside you.

“Send our love to the Dark Lord.”

A fierce pain punctuated his final statement as the blade ripped through your chest. You screamed in terror, just for the blade to be retrieved and then forced through skin, muscle, bone, again and again until you were nothing but a husk of who you had once been.

× × ×

Piercing eyes stared at you from across the long table, silently watching every move you made, no matter how small. You could feel the weight of his gaze despite having told him before how uncomfortable it made you - this had shocked him into a brief silence - but it obviously hadn't been important enough information for him to retain.

As you reached for your glass of wine, he did the same. His motions mirrored yours when you both took a swallow from the glass, followed by another, then another - the third being a mere test to see if he would or not.

“Stop.”

The demand left you with an irritated sigh, your wine glass then being loudly placed back to the table top. He chose to do the opposite, instead opting to lightly set his own glass down in a more respectable manner.

“Stop what?”

Your eyes narrowed at him, lips pressed tight together to showcase to him just how completely and utterly annoying he was. Ever since your arrival, he had done nothing but get under your skin day after day, night after night, second after second.

Maybe you really were in Hell.

“I'm going back to my quarters.”

You weren't going to do this with him again. It had become an every encounter sort of thing at this point - both of you engaging in an argument until you finally stomped off or he dismissed you before you ‘fell victim to his true nature’. How in the world were you supposed to live like this? For how long? Every time you’d yell this inquiry at him, he would only smile like he knew a secret you didn't.

Dropping your napkin to your plate, you were just about to push away from the table when his voice halted your every movement.

“Sit back down now. I haven't excused you.”

There was a sternness to his demand that you had yet to hear from him prior. It shook you to your core…in a way you hadn't expected.

There was a brief pause as you stared at him. You were silently debating with yourself as to whether or not you should listen, weighing the options. Since you had nowhere to go where he couldn't find you, you did as he requested.

“Maybe I've gone about this the wrong way. Maybe I've been too nice. Too lenient. Too patient. Since those approaches don't appear to be working, we're going to switch up to the way I prefer things.”

The man you knew as Noah slowly stood from his chair. Those eyes of his never broke from yours, not even as he placed his palms on the table top and leaned forward a bit to assert only an ounce of his dominance. You wanted to say it didn't make you want to cower in a corner, but it did.

Or maybe take your clothes off…

“You are here in my domain. Do you know what that means?”

Noah's eyebrows raised when he paused, though you knew he wasn't looking for an answer. He already had one of his own loaded and ready to go.

“It means I'm the fucking King and it would be in your best interest to not disobey me.”

You thought it would end there. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

But wait…what was this new sensation you were beginning to feel? It was warm and tingly…quite different from any you had experienced before, both when dead or alive.

“It doesn't matter to me that it's you. You are still required to make sure I remain pleased.”

This caught your curiosity and it showed in the way your own brows pulled together ever so slightly.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you listen to m-”

“No, the first part.”

You could see the way his features softened when he realized what he had said. Was this one of those secrets he always seemed to be keeping from you? Obviously. The issue was that you had no clue what it meant.

“For the love of Go-!” Noah paused before he could get the entire saying out, his jaw clenching and face reddening as if it would truly pain him to say the words. With a deep exhale through his nose, he stood to his full height and raked his fingers roughly through his hair. He was frustrated, though something told you that it wasn't all because of your defiant behavior.

The anger he held was bubbling to the surface and forcing him to lose his composure. He growled as he latched onto the chair and sent it hurling to the ground, followed by the glass of wine he had previously been nursing. Both became shattered pieces that would be impossible to repair.

“Why do you not remember yet?! Is this some cruel joke you're playing on me? Is that it?!”

Before you could even blink he was in front of you. He had forced your chair out a bit, enough for him to wedge himself in front of it to prevent you from escaping. His tattooed hands firmly grasped at the arms of the chair, intense eyes level with your own.

You weren't frightened of him. You had endured the wrath of more vile men many times in the past, your father being one of them, so this temper tantrum of his did not register as a threat.

Plus, you were already dead. What more could he do to you?

“I need you to remember.”

These words were spoken in a much softer tone, almost like he was begging you. Pleading. The pain was clear in his eyes and for some reason this hurt you as well. Why did you care about his feelings? Why did you want to make him feel better? Never during any of your previous altercations had you felt this way.

“I'm sorry…I don't know how…I don't understand…”

Noah appeared crushed. You swore you could hear the sound of his heart breaking; that's how deep his emotions ran along his features. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his head bowed to keep his face hidden. The hands that had once been gripping the arms of the chair fell to your covered knees, now grasping tight to you in any way he could.

“Please…try for me? There's a part of you that would do anything for me, just as I would do for you.”

Although his words continued to confuse you, they didn't disturb you or make you uncomfortable as they previously had. There was even a fraction of you that believed him…which only made you want to try as he was requesting.

Maybe he could sense this, because you felt one of his hands fall and begin lightly tracing along your ankle. The other remained on your knee, still clutching tight.

“Close your eyes…will yourself to remember…I know you can.”

There was a flicker of something behind your closed eyes, almost like a thought. Maybe a memory. You weren't too sure because the scene clip was foreign and not anything you had ever experienced in your living life. All that was familiar within the abrupt flash were his eyes and the way they devoured you.

“That…what was that?”

Noah’s hand cradled your cheek, his touch immediately causing you to open your eyes and connect with his own. There was now a hopeful gleam within them, so much that you swore you even saw his lips threatening to turn up into a smile.

“Did you remember something? Tell me.”

All you could do was slowly shake your head. Even if you wanted to tell him what the brief image had been, you knew you wouldn't be able to put it into words. It was like trying to describe a color to someone that they would never see for themselves. An impossible task to say the least.

Without another word, you quickly pushed him away from you and stood from your chair. Noah was stunned by your actions but made no move to stop you from running away, not like you had expected him to. As you exited the dining room, all you heard behind you was the sound of more glass breaking and Noah’s pained yells.

× × ×

Sleep eventually took over you that night, though it hadn't come easy. To bring forth this needed unconsciousness, you had to think of the images from earlier and imagine what scenario it was attached to.

It took place in an unknown room, though you could assume this room was in the same domain you currently were held in. The decor was the same, the walls and lighting giving this away. It wasn't your current room, though, but somewhere a little more lived in. It was comfortable, if you were being honest. Almost as comfortable as the bed you were laid out over in this flash of images.

There was a warmth that accompanied them, one that you were only barely accustomed to. You had experienced it before during your living existence when you had hiked your dress up to your hips and buried your fingers between your thighs - these moments were fleeting and only happened enough times for you to count on one hand.

Although, it wasn't your hands that brought forth the unfamiliar but welcomed warmth this time, but something - someone - far more enticing.

A pleasure radiated throughout your entire being in a way that had your body trembling and your voice crying out for more. You had managed to open your eyes long enough to see his head between your spread thighs, decorated fingers holding tight to you to make sure you remained fully open for him, all while his mouth worked wonders in ways you didn't know possible.

“Noah!” You moaned and whimpered, his name on your lips only sending him into an excited frenzy. He groaned into you as his mouth secured around your clit, harshly sucking before soothing the nerves with swipes of his tongue that made your hips buck and your cunt clench in a desperate need to be filled.

“You're so perfect…” he breathed as he pulled back just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside of you. The sensation was heavenly, as ironic as that was, even more so when his long digits dipped and curled within your dripping wet warmth. Noah stroked along a spot that immediately had you gasping for air and gripping tight to the already tangled sheets your body had become well acquainted with. The mess of linens told you that you had been at this for a bit now, and it definitely wasn't his first time admiring you from below.

“Don't stop, please…” you begged, soft and gentle between your labored breathing.

Noah happily obliged, not that he had any plans on stopping until he was thoroughly satisfied with your amount of pleasure. His wicked mouth returned to your clit, tongue swirling and flicking in a way only the Devil could know how, while his fingers assisted in bringing you right to the edge.

If this was eternal damnation, then you would willingly devote the rest of your existence to it, to him.

Just a couple more firm strokes of his fingers and your body was tensing, a pressure building so high that it literally felt as if you were going to explode. And almost as soon as the thought passed your mind, your body released - literally and metaphorically. Moans heaved from you and your hips writhed beneath Noah’s form, a sudden wave of pure heat traveling through you and coating his fingers. The bed became soaked, though Noah seemed less than concerned about this. He hadn't even let up on pulling your clit between his lips and forcing his fingers harder within the collapsing and pulsing walls of your cunt.

You awoke from your slumber with a gasp, your body abruptly sitting up in bed. It took a moment for you to gather yourself, but you eventually noticed that you were alone and no longer in the room from your…dream? Memory? It was still so hard to say. As you made a motion to move, you felt a throb between your thighs, a deep pulsing just like the one your subconscious had just been experiencing.

You thought nothing of it at first, not until you stood from the bed only to realize the sheets, as well as your clothing, held a wet spot right where one could assume.

It only took a moment for you to change, though you left yourself bare beneath the sleeping gown with not even the top tied securely. There was no reason for you to waste time with it when there was one thing on your mind now.

After a few wrong turns and having to backtrack more than you'd like to admit, you finally stumbled upon the study where you knew Noah to spend the majority of his time. Sometimes you swore this domain liked to purposely switch up and change on you, just to make finding your intended location all the more difficult.

“Stop lingering,” his voice called out after you had stood outside the cracked door for far too long.

A small jolt in response to his voice being directed to you caused your heart to skip a beat, though you did as he said and gently pushed the study door open enough for you to slip through.

“How did you kno-”

“Nothing happens here without my knowledge of it. No matter how small or…private.”

That's when his eyes lifted to meet with you, they focused in on your hips first before slowly trailing up to your own gaze. Something gleamed within his stare, but it wasn't something you were yet capable of putting your finger on. All you knew was that it further stirred a sensation inside you.

“It's late,” Noah then pointed out as he leaned back in his chair, sights still locked on you.

You nodded in understanding, slow steps being taken closer to the desk he resided behind. Instead of stopping in front of it, you moved around the side and only paused once you were in front of him, just within arm’s reach. You could see Noah's chest inflate with a deep inhale, his eyes further darkening at the close proximity. Had his gaze even flickered down to where your hardened nipples were evident beneath the thin fabric of the dress you wore? You swore they had.

Speaking of your clothing…it was drastically different from what Noah always wore. His black on black suit wasn't like anything you were used to seeing, though your clothes were reminiscent of your time, unchanging from what you knew. How odd, you thought to yourself. This wasn't the time to ponder such things, though. It was just one more mystery added to the collection you were keeping note of.

“I had a dream,” you finally revealed. A hand hesitantly reached out so you could trail a finger slowly beneath his jaw, a simultaneous step closer to him also being taken. “At least…I think it was only a dream.”

“A memory, perhaps.” Noah spoke up, his eyebrows raised.

“Perhaps.” Your hand fell from his face and you swore you noticed a sadness quickly glaze over his eyes, almost as if he missed your touch already. Lucky for him, you had no intention of keeping your hands to yourself right then.

Delicate fingers clutched the fabric that covered your body, now being pulled up just enough so you could freely move while settling into Noah’s lap. Your knees straddled him and his hands moved to lay atop the bare skin of your thighs, almost like a reflex.

“Tell me what you remember.”

A slight shrug of your shoulder caused the gown to fall away, revealing more of your skin to him. His eyes followed the trail of your neck down your shoulder and to your chest, just as he reached up to further tug the fabric away in a gentle manner until the swell of your breasts were shown.

Noah had learned forward so he could slowly kiss along the bared skin of your chest. His hands traveled up the sides of your thighs, purposely pushing the hem of the dress up more, but not fully. He was then gripping your waist, slyly pulling your body even closer to his while his lips dipped between the valley of your breasts.

“It's mainly feelings that I remember, not necessarily specific moments…”

A question lingered at the tip of your tongue, one that you weren't really sure the meaning of. It was merely plaguing the back of your mind, leaving you curious for an answer that could possibly mean absolutely nothing to you.

“How…many times have I been here?”

The inquiry caused Noah to pause, his eyes flickering up to yours before he relayed an answer.

“This makes five. Five lives…five versions of you…and this you by far has been the most stubborn.”

This knowledge didn't frighten you like it would have mere hours ago. No, it actually made a bit of sense now, like the puzzle pieces were all slowly starting to come together.

“And each one is me?”

Noah hummed lightly, his lips returning to their trek along your chest. He was being much softer with you than you would've imagined, especially given the outburst you had witnessed from him earlier.

“Same body, same eyes, same markings…” he punctuated this with a slight bite to a prominent freckle that sat off to the side of your right breast. “Even the same name.”

“So…where are all of the previous versions of me at?”

A heavy sigh followed your question, his jaw clenched in obvious frustration. Having not yet answered, Noah swiftly picked you up and laid you down atop his desk after swiping the unnecessary items aside. There was a darkness in his eyes again, and you noticed that his previous soft caresses were becoming much more defined and needy. Witnessing this had your insides stirring, but in a way that made you thankful for wearing nothing more than your sleep gown.

“You’ve been taken from me.”

Noah’s voice was harsh, the words almost being hissed through gritted teeth. Apparently you had touched on a sore subject without even realizing it. But still, he began undressing himself as you laid beneath him, vulnerable and aching. Not even his growing anger was going to stop him from having you.

With his torso now bared to you, you took a moment to take in all of the permanent etchings that crowded his skin. You had never seen such things before, though you've heard tales of tattoos and these being described as the ‘mark of the Devil’. Clearly your time wasn't too far off, considering who you were currently in the company of.

A hand grabbed your face and forced you to look up at him as his body hovered over your own. Noah’s eyes were as intense as ever as he searched within yours, on a hunt for something.

“You aren't meant for this world but you are mine. I'll see to it that every death brings you to me. They can't stop me.”

They?

There was no chance for you to inquire about this because Noah’s mouth was then on yours, all hot and desperate. He kissed you like his life depended on it - funny enough - like you were the only thing that could breathe oxygen back into his lungs. And much to your own surprise, you kissed him back with just as much ferocity. His taste was addicting and familiar, one that you wanted to hold onto for as long as you could.

Even as he pulled back, you swiped your tongue along your lower lip simply to savor what remained.

One strong pull was all it took for Noah to rip the gown you wore straight down the middle, his eyes immediately drinking you in. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning against your heated skin while flicking his tongue along the hardened bud before sinking his teeth in. You gasped at the slight pain, but the rise of your hips to grind against his let him know that you actually enjoyed it.

Noah smirked as he moved to your opposite nipple, displaying the same loving abuse to it. A warmth was pooling between your thighs and you were suddenly so eager for his touch that you didn't know what to do with yourself. Your hips continued to grind along his, desperate to feel any sort of relief, but the material of his pants were too soft and not at all what you were aching for.

“Not so defiant now, are you?” He taunted, his clothed hips firmly pressing into yours just to further rile you up.

“Look at you…desperate and whining…you must be remembering how good I can make you feel.”

Indeed you were, because never have you felt a need as strong as this before. Something in you knew just how mind blowing a climax at his hands could be and you wanted it now. You were so caught up in your own selfish needs that you hadn't even heard the sound of his belt coming off or the distinct ripple of the zipper being dragged down. When your eyes met with him again, he was fully naked and standing between your legs, slowly stroking along every inch of his hard cock.

“Fuck…the things you do to me,” he murmured to himself, heavily exhaling through his nose. You watched in awe as he continued to touch himself, his hips pushing forward to thrust into his hand, even as he rubbed the head of his cock down between your folds. Noah’s eyes closed and his head tossed back, reveling in the sensation of you being so wet for only him.

“Please…” you whimpered, your legs spreading more as if that would help entice him in. As much as you liked watching him get himself off, surprisingly enough, you were far too needy in that moment to have any bit of his stamina wasted on his hand.

Releasing the hold he had on his cock, he instead grabbed your calf and lifted your leg to his shoulder. His strong hands now held your hips, the tip of his cock pressed right to your entrance since he had produced the perfect angle after maneuvering your body around however he saw fit.

“You have to be a good girl and take it,” he instructed, his voice soothing but still holding an edge to it.

Noah pressed forward, allowing only the swollen head of his cock to stretch through your tight walls that hugged him just as close as he remembered.

“Say it.” He demanded, refusing to go any further until you had.

You shakily breathed out, your heart racing and blood pumping so fast that your cheeks were flushed a deep red already. “I'll be a good girl,” you repeated his words, nodding. “I'll take it, I promise.”

Happy with this, Noah thrusted forward in a swift motion that you had taking every inch he had to offer. Your tight pussy welcomed him into your depths with a constricting pulse that would've made him cum right then had he not had an eternity of practiced self control.

Noah deeply groaned, his jaw set and biceps flexed while holding you in place. Your own moans mixed with his, your body trembling in his grasp from just how intense it was to be fully filled by him. It was like nothing you had ever felt before…quite literally since your living existence had yet to experience the touch of another. You had only known a release at your own hands, which was nothing compared to this.

“That's it…” he cooed the familiar phrase as he began his rapid pace of driving his cock deep into you again and again, forcing moans and profanities never yet spoken from you each time. “You're always so good at taking it.”

Oh, how you wanted nothing more than to take all that he had to offer.

The stretch of your walls were so tight around him that you swore you could feel every engorged vein throbbing when he forced himself as deep as possible. Noah turned his head so he could kiss along your ankle, the grip he had on your calf tightening just before leaning forward a bit. It was a good thing you were pretty limber or else a cramp would've surely ruined the mood by now. Noah didn't seem concerned about this, though. He was far too focused on the shape of your lips as you cried out his name.

This angle had to have been created by this Devil himself though, because you could barely take a breath from how overpowering it was. You looked up at him with furrowed brows and nothing but silence as your breath caught in your throat. Every inch of your body tensed, though this had yet to cease his quickening thrusts. Your cunt felt too good, too warm, too tight, for him to let up now.

“Noah!” His name finally erupted from you again, just as an unexpected orgasm took charge. Your head tossed back and your hips arched up as much as possible, your pussy now gripping his cock like a vice. Your walls were so strong that you noticed he was finally beginning to break a sweat.

As the climax shook through your body, his motions began to slow before coming to a complete halt. He stared down at you, a fire in his eyes.

“Did I say you could cum?” The question was punctuated with a firm spank to the side of your thigh, a sting radiating outwards that you knew you'd be feeling for some time afterwards.

“Hadn't I just told you that you're meant to listen to me? That I'm the King and you do as I say?”

Noah had shifted your leg off his shoulder and pulled his hips back until he was no longer inside of you. The loss of connection made you whine and pout because one orgasm hadn't been enough. You desperately needed more.

“I couldn't stop it,” you explained while he forced you up, around, and then back down so the front of your body was pressed to the desk.

“You promised you were going to be a good girl.”

There was a bit of rustling from behind you, followed by the faint clink of metal that you recognized from his belt when he had been removing it not long ago. Your thighs pressed together in anticipation for whatever he had planned for you now since you knew that fleeting moment of softness from him was long gone.

“But good girls ask before they cum, and you didn't ask.” The sound of something moving quickly through the air garnered your attention, but a mere second later a sharp sting forced a yelp from you when the folded edge of his belt made contact with your ass. The pain shot right to your core, your cunt clenching eagerly around nothing.

Another crack rang out when the belt again collided with your tender ass cheek. You whimpered and writhed, your hands desperately trying to grab onto something to steady yourself but there was nothing within reach on the desk. While it did hurt, and the pain only worsened with each spank, you still couldn't help but to crave more. Maybe it was because Noah was now rubbing his palm soothingly over the red and welted area, or maybe it was because you liked allowing him this power over you.

You held a power of your own over him as well, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Although now may have not been the time to bring that up.

“Look at how fucking wet you're getting from this,” he mused gleefully as his fingers dipped down to brush along your pussy. He gathered the wetness around his fingertips after sinking his digits into you, though he only graced you with a couple of pumps before their retreat.

Noah leaned over your body so his mouth was at your ear, his wet fingers forcing their way between your lips for you to obediently clean. Which you did without hesitation or complaint, even going so far as to moan softly at the taste of yourself.

“Now, are you going to be my good girl or do I need to punish you a bit more?” He whispered into your ear while lightly brushing your hair back from your face.

You could feel his hard cock between your thighs, teasing you with what you so badly wanted again. This assisted in you making up your mind, despite how much you enjoyed the punishment given.

“I'll be your good girl,” you promised once his fingers were pulled from your mouth.

Noah circled his strong hand around your jaw before placing a firm kiss to the side of your head. “That was the correct answer.”

Gently forcing your body back around to face his, he was careful to then set you on the edge of the desk. You winced at the weight being placed on your abused bottom, and it was only intensified when Noah purposely grasped the exact area, fingertips digging into the welts. There was no room for true pain when it was quickly overpowered by the euphoric sensation of him thrusting into you again.

Christ, if you weren't already dead then this man surely would've been the death of you.

Both hands squeezed your hips as he helped drag you along his cock, maneuvering your body in just the right way so he was hitting every spot inside of you that had you gasping for air. Your mind was occupied solely with thoughts of him, especially when taking in how he was gazing at you. It didn't matter that bits of his hair clung to his forehead with sweat or that you could barely take a breath without demanding that he fuck you harder, because Noah was still staring at you like you were the only thing in this entire melancholic universe that mattered.

“You're fucking amazing,” he grunted just as he pushed against your chest to lay you back on the desk again. This allowed him free reign to drive his cock at a maddening pace into your depths, his thrusts relentless to what your mere mortal body could handle.

Did it matter since you were already dead, though? Were you technically a mortal still? So many questions.

Your noises of ecstasy echoed through the study as your cunt throbbed around his twitching cock. The way Noah’s hips began to slow until he was taking long drags out of you, only to roughly thrust forward again, told you that he was close. You weren't sure how you knew, but you did. Just as you somehow knew other things little that would make him tick - both in good and bad ways.

“You look so beautiful like this.”

You couldn't help but to smile through your delightful torment, your body already so sensitive from your previous orgasm and all of the other things Noah had made you feel that night. From his unmatched stamina, so you could assume, to the pain of his belt across your ass that made your cunt clamp tighter around his cock just from thinking about it.

Noah must've noticed because he released a deep growl from his chest, his head now bowed and eyes closed as he continued his unforgiving thrusts.

“Oh!” You gasped the moment his palm pressed against your lower stomach and his thumb made contact with your clit. Your hips jerked and your thighs threatened to close, but his grip on the one only tightened to a harsh squeeze to keep you perfectly spread for him.

“You have to ask.” Noah reminded you, since he was well aware of what your reactions were pointing to.

Your eyes rolled back and your teeth sunk deep into your lower lip, breathless moans escaping one after the other, making it nearly impossible for you to say much of anything.

“Please!” You finally were able to pant out, a faint whine to follow. “Can I cum? Please?”

Noah smirked at your obedience. The sound of your begging only made him drive harder into your core, his thumb still working against your overly sensitive clit.

“Please please please,” the pleading continued in a faint whisper, this being all you could manage out now in a little chant of desperation.

Instead of voicing his approval, he merely gave a single nod just before planting both of his hands on the desk near your head. He was leaning over you now, his hips violently colliding with yours. Dark eyes focused down on your face and you immediately knew he wanted to watch up close as you fell apart for him again.

Your hands ran up his sides and back to clutch his shoulder blades, nails sinking harshly into his inked skin the moment your climax took over. Every inch of your body spasmed beneath his, your knees digging into his hips and nails dragging down his back in a way that made him sharply inhale in an almost hiss.

“Oh my go-!” The cry was nearly completed when his hand covered your mouth, preventing you from voicing the final word. Though this didn't stop you from moaning in a continuous yet muffled fashion as a wave rushed through your body and your cunt hungrily tried dragging in more of his cock.

“Fuck, you're doing so good,” he murmured in a low tone that had your insides melting and your orgasm freely flowing around him. “Fucking hell!”

Noah groaned as his thrusts became a little more sloppy before a final drive forward had him pausing as deep as possible inside of you. The muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed as he erupted, the vein in the side of his neck now more prominent. You couldn't help but to crane your neck forward just a bit in order to sink your teeth into it, bringing forth a moan from him directly into your ear.

Shivers traveled your body from the overly full feeling of him cumming inside of you and filling you to the brim, his arousal mixing with your own and overflowing. Still, your cunt continued to pulse and flutter around his cock, emptying him for all that he was worth. Your hips even rolled up into his again, purposely working yourself along his length simply because you could and because it felt so fucking good to have him stroking your g-spot, no matter how sensitive and spent your body was.

“I told you I could be a good girl,” you breathed against his neck while trailing your lips up in search of his. Noah chuckled into the kiss you eventually indulged him with, his brow finally relaxing now that you had stopped grinding into him and he could properly think.

Lifting his head after you parted from the kiss, he gazed down at you to admire how beautiful you looked with your cheeks flushed and a post-sex glow setting in. It was the first time he had seen you appear genuinely happy since your arrival, and while he of course wanted your body again and again, he also wanted to see that as often as he could.

“Don't think I've forgotten about how you acted at dinner.” His tone was serious only for a fleeting moment. Your eyes widened slightly, the welt on your ass pulsating as if to remind you of the punishments he could make you endure.

Noah cracked a faint grin before dragging his hand along the side of your face and claiming your lips once again. He was then standing to his full height and carefully pulling you to a sitting position along with him, where he slowly pulled himself out from your drenched core. A faint whimper escaped you, though you quickly covered it with a bite to your inner cheek.

“No need to worry about that now. I'll let you know when I'm coming to collect for your defiant behavior.”

Well, that surely made your pussy clench in eager anticipation.

Flexing and rolling his shoulders back, he muttered something about giving him a second and then scurried off, but not before making a quick turn back to kiss you again. As he disappeared, you took this moment to glance around the study. It was one of the many rooms you hadn't really been in before, Noah's bedroom included, because you always felt they were too personal for you to see.

And much to your own shock, Noah never entered your room either. At least you knew he could respect boundaries to a degree. But now? Well, now you weren't so sure what sort of boundaries remained for you two.

Taking in a deep breath, you lifted a hand to gently massage into the back of your neck, just as your eyes swept across the large bookcase that lined one side of the room. Something on one of the shelves immediately acquired your attention: a knife of sorts, a dagger, with rubies embedded in the handle. There was something very familiar about it, so much so that you found yourself slipping from the desk to make your way over to where it was displayed.

“I wasn't sure if you wanted to remain in the clothes you're used to, so I brought that and another option…” his voice grew quieter as it trailed off upon realization that you were no longer on the desk.

Noah's returning presence couldn't pry your eyes away from the dagger, nor could his soft demand for you to tell him what you were doing. Instead, you reached out to lightly trace along the sheath the dagger was housed in before ultimately picking it up and pulling it from the enclosure.

“What is this?”

Noah was by your side within seconds, his hand reaching for the item though you made an abrupt turn to step away from him.

“I need you to give me the dagger now…please. Then, maybe, we can discuss just what it is.”

There was a churning in your stomach and your heart was now beating so loud that you could hear it thumping within your ears. You recognized this dagger despite having only seen it for a few seconds after your captors all but dragged you to your death. A multitude of memories flashed before your sights of this dagger in particular, although in many different scenarios and situations.

Your eyes were pooling with tears as you finally looked up at him, both confusion and hurt written all across your face. It appeared as if Noah wanted to say something but he remained silent, his hand still outstretched like you were actually going to hand the item over to him.

“This was what was used to kill me, Noah. More than once. Why do you have it?”

#bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fan fiction #noah sebastian fan fiction #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #smut #bad omens smut #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian x reader #smut with plot #god of death complex

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rmorde · 4 months ago

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Trigun Manga Reaction

Starting off with Volume 1 - Chapter 1

I will always love Meryl's design. She is one of the most memorable female characters from my childhood. My most distinct image from Trigun 98 is Meryl showing off all her derringers from her coat. I love her and Milly a lot.

So, these two images make me giggle.

Ok. I have to do a double take here.

Is the Note: Staunch Pacifist here a "break the fourth wall" type of situation or an actual info people in the story know? Hmmm... from the animes, it doesn't seem to be common knowledge that Vash doesn't like to fight. People kinda shoot first and never ask later with him. I guess the many zeroes in his bounty just wipes off the "staunch pacifist" info from their minds or they think it's just a twisted joke to ignore.

AAAWWWW BABY!!!!

BABY NOOOO!!!!! He was just happily eating steaks!!! This is far more cruel than a ruined drink or hanging upside down!

Sigh... Really... Vash... Just really?! I guess Badlands!Vash isn't too OOC when he pulled this stunt then he's still weirdly horndoggy there ngl.

That's a nice nightmare face. Did Nightow ever make a serious horror?

Maybe I am just being weird here but this panel is really interesting because of the lack of details on this big guy threatening Vash. From his chest and below, with the exception of his hand holding the gun, there is nothing. He encompasses about three-quarters of this half page panel like a really big wall.

I guess the composition is supposed to show how he is trying to dwarf Vash. It doesn't work obviously since Vash looks so still and detailed in contrast to him. Idk. It's just how it comes across to me.

Pouty Baby.

Classic Vash.

Aah... The faces of people wondering how they shouldn't be alive anymore, but they still do because the scary Humanoid Typhoon decided to use a toy gun to shoot them in their faces twice.

Baby Girl. You should be in Sailor Moon.

Baby Gremlin Girl.

Clever Gremlin Baby Girl Vash The Stampede

Wait... FOUR?! FOUR PIZZAS?!!

Oh poor TriStamp Vash. He got hit by inflation hard. He can only get 2 pizzas with his one bullet!

Ok. So the Plants design from '98 are closer to the manga. TriStamp is new.

Oh my my my...

THE BADASS LADIES ARE HERE IN ALL THEIR GLORY!!!

Peak designs I swear. I mean. TriStamp Meryl's design is cute, but it is nothing compare to this beauty!

Remember this exchange from the '98 anime. Didn't really understand it until I got older and realized on hindsight what these assholes really meant. Ewww.

I wonder if, with how sensitive certain groups of people nowadays, these dirty lines will still get past the radar when localized or be changed altogether.

Oh... This is slightly different. Milly did understand what they meant and reacted to it unlike in '98 where she is just innocently confused.

This will always be iconic for me alongside Meryl's Derringers reveal. When I think of Trigun, these are two of the four images that come to my mind.

Oh... Oh... So, this stuff happens to Vash during the first chapter. I guess the animes are a bit more merciful that they have this happen after a few episodes at least.

Sigh... Whenever I have a bad day, I'll just think Vash has it worse. At least I get to fix my mistakes in peace and with help unlike him... Poor baby girl.

#trigunbookclub #trimax journey #i forgot to say i also watched badlands! as soon as i saw a clip of el woowoo... i just had to #anyway this was fun #i can tell where the animes drew several specific scenes and designs from #i look forward to the next chapter!

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ladysmutwriter · 9 months ago

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Take me one more time

Continuation of Watching her Fade Away! Summary of that fic// after a nasty fight with your boyfriend Simon Henrikkson, you cheat on him with his best friend David, breaking up with him afterwards.

After breaking up with Simon you move from Stockholm to pursue your studies, however, after a year of no contact with him, Sophie calls you to tell you Simon was badly injured in a hit and run, leaving him paralyzed from his waist down, and that perhaps your company could help him in the deep depression he now has.

This was an unfinished fic, i might not finish it, but here are the two chapters i wrote into one.

art credit @/ throat2834 on TikTok

You were walking out of school, hands in your hoodie as the snow fell from the sky, all the other kids chatting with their friends as they got out of their classes.

You were never one to have many friends, usually more kept to yourself, your only friend being David, a guy who was a few years older than you, about to graduate- you two met on detention, after you got sent there for "vandalizing" the bathroom's walls; the teacher there just told you to stay quiet, and then got out of the classroom to go smoke, there, the only other kid was this messy brunnette, his hair falling on his face and a scar under his eye as he mindlessly drawed on his history book.

Getting closer to see his drawings, you began talking, and then he walked you to your home, exchanged numbers and began talking.

You had a bit of a crush in him, after all he had this "bad boy" look plastered all over him, teaching you how to smoke cigarettes behind school, introducing you to Simon and Sophie, which had the same age as you; you four began hanging out daily, until your crush for David faded away and was filled with Simon.

Thankfully, your attraction was mutual, as Sophie once told you Simon had told her he liked you.

It was the beggining of the sour relationship you'd endure for years.

You were driving back to Stockholm, the map on the copilot seat and Deftones sounding in low volume as you entered the colorless town, all of your memories coming back and the guilt rotting deep in your brain once again eating your head.

After your little affair with David you two cut off all relationship you used to had, the years of being there for each other burned into regret from both parts, the only contact you still had being only Sophie; her constantly talking to you and keeping you up with her life. After you confessed what had happened with David, she promised you that Simon would never know about it in your absence.

Stoping the car in front of Sophie's house, you got out and knocked on the door, after a few seconds a happy Sophie oppened the door and hugged you tightly, telling you how much she missed you, her arms giving you that warmth you missed oh-so-much. Breaking the hug she invited you to her house, you sitting on her couch as she went to get you some coffee, after all you drived some good hours to get back, feeling your eyes close by themselves as you took in the warmth of her house and fell asleep on the couch.

Once you woke up, you saw Sophie watching the TV as she sat next to you, the still warm cup of coffe in front of you in the little table; reaching out to drink it, you began some small talk with her, mostly about how she had been, until the topic landed on Simon.

"I really regret what i did" You admitted, suddenly your throat becoming dry, the memories of seeing Simon cry as you broke up with him coming back to your head.

"I know Y/N" she answered after taking some time to think, her eyes scanning your face as she gave you a soft look, never judging you, instead, understanding you.

She knew how Simon was with you, after all she heard always she sides from both of you whenever you had an argument, her support mostly landing on your side as for all she loved Simon and held him as a dear friend, she knew how toxic he could be.

You ended up crashing at Sophie's, spending the night cuddling with her as you watched movies and ordered some chinese food; preparing yourself to go visit Simon the next day.

The sun rised, Sophie waking you up so you'd go shower and get ready- the warm water hitting your skin making you relax, after all, you were supossed to fix things now.

Second Chapter:

Simon was... Empty.

He still remembers your breakup, you asked to meet him in his house, a day after the big fight; you looked... Bad, to say it somehow, your eyes didn't look at him how you used to look at him, with love; no, it was almost disgust now, empty, voidless eyes staring into him as you said the words he feared so much.

"I don't think we have a future together"

Those lips he used to kiss so much, now giving him the worst words he ever heard. You were his first love, his first everything. And you were leaving him like everyone else, he felt his body go cold, his hands trembling, the urge to scream and beg for you to not leave burning his throat, instead, he went silent, his eyes staring at the floor.

You two were sitting on the edge of his bed, your hand over his as silent tears ran down your tired eyes; his face seemed of pure rage, you were just like everyone else-

"Din jävla tikt"

You frowned your face at the insult, letting out a short squeak of fear as Simon pushed you to your back, him straddling your hips as his mouth forced onto yours.

Was this what you wanted? For him to be like your shitty exes? He could be that and way worse- inflict on you the pain you were giving him right now. Teeth against each other as his hands pressed down on your body keeping you still as you tried to squirm, fingers digging painfully into your soft flesh as more tears ran down your face, screams of desesperation muffled against Simon's mouth.

You'd never forget the taste of that last kiss, cigarettes and coffee, a taste you used to love so much turned into one of the worst memories of your life.

It was when one of his hands left your torso to move onto your neck, choking you as you finally got the strength to push him away, him landing on the floor as you got up, face red, hair messy and tears streaming down your cheeks like rivers, your legs shaking as Simon's mother opened the door after she heard the struggle, asking what had happened in a panicked voice, after all, her son was on the floor looking at you as if he was one step from murdering you, and you completely terrified on the other side.

You ran, away from that house, away from the memories.

...

Simon's thoughts were interrupted as his phone buzzed.

It was already 3 PM, him still on his bed, his curtains closed as he took a look at his phone- his chest hurting as he recognized the number.

"Can i visit you? I'll stay at Stockholm for a few days in case you want to talk"

He stared for some seconds at the message, his hands becoming sweaty as he answered with a simple "yes". Shit, he hadn't bathed in days, less brushed his teeth, and his room probably smelled like shit too- but he didn't bother changing any of that, after all, a part of him wanted you to feel pity for him, to feel guilty, to beg to be back with him, somehow those thoughts making sense in his delusional brain.

Probably half an hour passed before he heard the door ring, hearing his mother squeal in happiness at seeing you, now all that was left was for you to cross the door to his room.

On your perspective, going back to that house made you uncomfortable, the feeling of being choked returning to your head as you hugged his mother, she was a nice lady- always worried about Simon, cleaning his mess and working her back off to afford him treatment. As much as she used to be a motherly figure to you, her hugs felt like Simon's; after having a small chat with her, you told her you were here to see her son, she said goodbye as she had to go meet Simon's dad somewhere and left you alone in the house.

Everything was silent there, only your footsteps ringing in your ears as you finally stood in Simon's door.

Knocking, you got in, the harsh smell of bad higiene hitting your nose as you saw his room, a complete mess, magazines on the floor, rotting food in plates and his wheelchair with clothes stacked up on it, the lump on the bed being Simon, who didn't even bother looking away from his phone to greet you.

He was vulnerable now- you had to remind yourself, he was weaker than never before; a small sense of pity forming in your gut as you walked towards his bed, sitting next to him as you placed your hand gently over his, him letting his phone drop to the covers as his eyes went to yours.

Deep eyebags, unkept facial hair and reddened eyes from sleeping all day- he looked like shit.

No words needed to be spoken, and neither of you wanted to anyways, anxiety filling up both your chests as your eyes met.

Your hand went to his face, caressing it softly, fingers then tangling on his greasy hair, sighing as you realized he was living as bad as he looked, his breath stank too- you trying your best to not make any face of disgust.

"Let's go wash you" You said to his surprise, but he didn't say anything, he was locking his feelings, afraid that if he showed any emotion he'd break into a million pieces, letting out his feelings for you in the proccess.

Getting up, you cleaned up his wheelchair, grabbing him up by his armpits as you dragged him to sit down on it, moving the chair towards his bathroom- thankfully his bathroom was big enough for you two, you going to turn the faucet on as you prepared him the tub, as soon as warm water filled it, you turned to Simon, giving him an awkard smile.

First step was to help him brush his teeth, as soon as he finished you helped him clean any toothpaste left overs from his facial hair.

He didn't even stare at you, his eyes lost on the tub as he thought how long had it been since he properly bathed, layers of sweat stuck to his skin- probably the water would end up black afterwards. Realizing he was a lost case, you kneeled in front of him to take off his black t-shirt, him offering no help nor protest, anxiety bubbling up your skin as you saw he spread his cuts to his torso, some fresh, some older, some already healed; you'd need to disinfect some later. Moving down, you began pulling down his pants, his hands instantly going to grab yours- his face crimson red as he looked away from you.

"It´s nothing i haven´t seen before Simon" You said- his hands leaving yours as he breathed a little more heavily.

Pulling the pants down with his boxers in one fast movement, you avoided looking at his groin- you weren't a perv. Lifting him up and getting him into the bathtub was another whole task, he had gained some weight, making it harder for you to move him in your arms. Once you had him in the tub, you got to work, applying shampoo on his head as you used a cup that was lying around to wet his hair.

You spent a good 15 minutes on his hair, untangling it and massaging his scalp, making him ease into it, letting out little sighs as he relaxed. After his hair looked shiny, you moved some of it from his face, smiling at the tenderness of the situation- the hatred you once had for each other forgotten into the peaceful situation, the only sound being of your fingers softingly cleaning Simon.

Things changed when you went with the sponge, your hand underwated rubbing on Simon's thighs, trying to clean his skin when his hand went to grab your arm, his wet hair pressing down on your shoulder as his fingers digged into your skin. Realizing what was going on, you had a mental debate- where you really gonna go down this path? What if he assumed you were going to go back with him if you "did" this?

However, something lit up inside of you... Seeing him so, vulnerable, desesperate- you were probably the first person to care for him this way in such a long time, wouldn't you extend your kindness just a bit more?

Letting go of the sponge, your hand went up his thigh, feeling his body hair thicken as your hand reached upper and upper, feeling the intense warmth emanating from his crotch, even in the hot water.

He let out a low groan as your hand grasped his hard dick, fingers going to rub his tip before masturbating him, hand moving up and down as he bit your shoulder, his whole body tensing. He finally looked at you- god, were you gorgeous, your brows furrowed as you bit your lip, focused on getting him to cum, now letting out groans and moans for you to hear, your face moving to his direction, finally your lips meeting as he felt his orgasm come closer, since he hadn't done anything in some time, being a bit too sensitive, not really lasting long before feeling the knot on his lower abdomen grow.

Your tongues danced with each other, your hand jerking him off rapidly as his grip on you tightened, letting out little mewls of your name as he broke the kiss, hiding his face on the crook of your neck as he came, his fluids mixing with the water as he came down from his high, breathing heavily.

"Well, we better change the water now"

#cry of fear #cry of fear x reader #cry of fear smut #david leatherhoff x reader #simon henriksson x reader

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cocogum · 4 months ago

Note

C'mon, sugar. Talk about Sadida and why you love him. You know you want to ;)

SJALDLEODODOWOFLFLFKODPE9D8SWIEOODOWOEOEOEIQODOFKSOSOSKKXOSOSLSODOD

GURL

When I say this man is fine, I mean he's FINE FINE LIKE-

Have you SEEN this tree man???

Of all the gods I could've fallen for in an unhealthy way, I really didn't think Sadida would be it.

And omg, I'm so glad I even saw this green guy ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I can actually remember when was the first time I got to know about him.

I was probably 11-12 at the time, and I was scrolling on the Krosmoz wiki. I wanted to know more about the twelve gods because Wakfu didn't tell you much about them, and that was in a time when I didn't know about the Krosmoz timeline and how there were so many other works lined up before Wakfu.

I came to learn about all the gods and how they looked, thanks to the wiki, and that's where I SAW HIM.

At first, I just thought he looked cool and mysterious with his mask, but when I learned about the Krosmoz timeline, my ass watched the Dofus movie, Kerubim's Treasures' show, AND THEN ENDED UP ON THE OGREST MANGA SET (i did all this in another year and i precisely remember that the ogrest manga still has four and thr fifth is getting NEAR!!)

As soon as my hands got the Ogrest volumes, my perspective on Sadida COMPLETELY changed. I didn't expect to find so much lore about one god in the Ogrest manga, but I was so glad it ended up being Sadida!!

Not only did Mig, the writer and illustrator, did such an excellent job working with such a mature style, but Sadida had been the center of some chapters WITH THAT VERY SAME STYLE.

(Yeah, I'm going to be talking a lot about the Ogrest manga specifically cuz Sadida has been seen so much in there)

And now you're telling me the fifth volume, a volume I've been waiting for AGES NOW, has Sadida as its cover!?!?!?

THE DELIBERATE CHOICE OF MAKING SADIDA THE MAIN FOCUS OF THE COVER CANNOT BE A COINCIDENCE ‼️‼️‼️

This only implies that we're going to see more of him in this volume, and I'm already ready for it like I've legit been spamming the Ankama shop's refresh button just to see that damn Ogrest volume 5 in the Dofus section already 😭😭😭😭

PLEASE I'M SO GONNA GET FED WHEN IT COMES OUT ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

I follow Mig on tumblr and insta (cuz duh, why wouldn't I), so when I first saw that damn cover, I swear my ass freaking squealed when I saw his official post.

We even got some small sneak peeks here and there of the volume on insta, but my eye especially caught that one Sadida shot, which I think may have been from Lacrima's pov.

Just look at him 💖💖

Look at my cute little baby and his cute little cat feet I just wanna jxkskdldlldlfdl

Despite knowing and seeing all these sneak peeks and finally seeing what the fifth volume cover looks like, I didn't get to find an official release date....

Until @ol-files mentioned in a reblog how it's probably gonna come out in mid-October lol LET'S GOOOOOO ‼️‼️‼️‼️💖💖💖💖💖

My guy has game, look at him with himselves his women 💕💕

Name one other god who can pull up ten chicks like that all at the same time and keep them in his realm. THAT'S RIGHT, NONE.

Not even Iop can do that lol

The Ogrest manga made me learn so much about him that we even saw how he made the sadida dolls.

DJKSKDOSLSKDLDLDLDLDLDLDPDP

HE WAS LITERALLY A SEED PLEASE I-

He's so independent, my guy didn't even need anyone's help for this.

Like we're talking about the fact that he made his very first doll without any instructions. It's like he subconsciously knew what to do already. No beginner's guide, no anything. Damn.

HE'S SO CUTE WHY IS HE SO CUTE!?!?!?! 💖❤️💖❤️💖❤️💖❤️💖😍💖😍💖❤️💖❤️😍💖😍💖💖😍😍💖😍❤️💖😍💖

LOOK AT HIM ❤️❤️❤️ I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW HE COULD BRAID HIS HAIR LIKE THAT 💖😭😭💖😭💖😭 he's such a babygirl omg.

I bet one or two of his dolls did his hair that one time lol

Imagine getting yourself a man who's fine with having cute little braids and doing anything with you no matter how "girly" or "weird" it may look AND STILL HAVE THAT RIZZ.

Iop is such a loser for that lol

I'm really sorry for bringing up Iop twice to criticize him, but I truly want to emphasize the significant distinctions between Sadida and Iop. If we closely examine their behaviors and personalities, it becomes increasingly obvious that these two are complete opposites among all the gods in the Krosmoz. They represent the two extreme ends of manhood, illustrating their polar opposition.

Literally, I'm not even exaggerating.

Sadida: plays with dolls, is sensitive to losing someone dear, isn't afraid to show his delicate side to women, doesn't mind having cute hair, cares for who he loves, plays an instrument, keeps his creations with him and only lets them out when they had to, enjoys plants and taking care of them.

Iop: big macho solid man, hides himself to cry, committed grape, is too prideful, doesn't think much, gets disgusted with anything that doesn't relate to his sexuality (no joke he literally said "ew" when he learned he indirectly procreated with Sadida in the Dofus manga), abandons his wives, put a curse on one of his kids (Goultard), disowned one of them (Goultard) and probably many more.

Like do you see this shit???

These two are so different from each other that it's weird but also ironic, given that they had a kid together lol

Sadida's rizz is superior to any other god, I don't care what you say. Just look at him rizzing up Dathura with his flute bro he's so good that he even ended up making Lacrima, another hottie, jealous of Dathura.

But I know what some might be thinking: he crafted them personally for a particular purpose, which is why his dolls necessitated his attentive handling, WHEN THAT IS COMPLETELY FALSE.

When only six sadida dolls were able to charm the dragons to make the primordial dofus, Sadida did not get angry at the other four who failed. He simply told them they made a great effort.

Translation:

Once they were all reunited, Sadida congratulated the six who had succeeded and the others for their efforts.

And guess what? Even after the four sadida dolls' attempts, Sadida never stopped taking care of them!

He even comforts Lacrima, the only sadida doll of the bunch who truly felt troubled by failing the mission.

Translation:

Sadida comforts her, telling her how unimportant the result was in his eyes...

And in the arms of her beloved, she understood...

Her destiny was elsewhere, linked to the quality that had been entrusted to her.

GET YOURSELF A MAN LIKE SADIDA ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

He's so caring to his little dolls that it's too sweet. He's clearly that one boyfriend who will immediately take care of you when you're on your period or having cravings 😭❤️❤️❤️

I even made some gifs of him cuz I felt cute that one time 💕💕💕

Some were from Waven:

I could only find and make three of him there since Waven is still in construction and the only twelvian god things I could find at the shop were the emotes and each god had three expressions you could use: happy, angry, defeated.

And others were from Krosmaga:

The first is when you win the battle and unlock him, while the second is when you lose, so you don't get him and have to restart the fight 😭😭

However, the surprising part about Sadida was that his design was still being worked on when the Dofus movie was finished.

Can you believe that Ankama almost screwed up when they were still making his design, by the way?

No joke, if you don't know this, they were almost going to make him look like a cabbage or carnivorous plant....

LIKE BROTHER EWWW NO WHY DID THEY THINK HE'D LOOK GOOD LIKE THAT!?!?!?

These two Sadida character designs used to be design sheets from the Dofus movie 2 that the Ankama team still had in their folders. The title for the second Dofus movie was called "The Return of Julith," and we were going to meet all the gods in there, which is why you'd be able to see some very early character designs of them.

(We've still got no news for the second movie, but Tot did say there might be a chance that they'll make the second one, according to this post, which talks about the upcoming releases of Krosmoz media. So if we do get that second movie, WE MIGHT JUST SEE SADIDA !! Unlike how we only saw a destroyed statue of him in season 4 lol)

I'm genuinely grateful (and RELIEVED) that Ankama threw out his old designs because he clearly didn't look good in those. Not to mention that they didn't look clever like his now canonical design ✨️✨️

So yeah, my leafy husband is clearly very hardworking and sentimental 💕💕💕

I NEED HIS FINISHER MOVE (the gif on the right) SO BADLY YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

I also already bought his emotes from Waven lol

Look at him looking all giddy and happy while twirling some plants around!

This man has no excuse to be this cute 😫😫

art by maba-product on facebook

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

Text

Royal Pain Part 26

Hello, and we have got to the end of the massive arc that culminated the last four chapters.

I also wrote this part before 24 and 25 because I couldn't figure out how to write Eddie having a hard time on tour, but the aftermath flowed from my fingers.

Also as a reminder this story is finished, I'm just posting on a regular schedule. This story is the longest fanfic I've ever written. Topping out at 58165 it's definitely longer than 50K fic I wrote for NaNoWriMo last year (Sandman, never finished or published.)

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23 Pt 24 Pt 25

****

“You’ve been sitting on that sofa for an entire week,” Wayne growled. “Steve has called three times, your bandmates at least a dozen times each. Hell, boy Miranda has been calling concerned. So want to tell me what’s fucking got you so twisted?”

“I was given a choice out there on the road,” Eddie said, twisting his rings around his fingers. “Stay in Indy and play small time gigs for the rest of my adult life or go to LA and get an album and the chance at super stardom.”

Wayne sat down next him. “Sounds like a big decision to make.”

Eddie leapt to his feet. “That’s the problem. That’s what makes me so angry how fucking easy the choice is.”

Wayne cocked his head to the side. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate again, boy. Start talking.”

Eddie started pacing back and forth. “As much as I loved playing for so many people, I didn’t like that I could only connect with a handful of them and not even the good kind.” He rubbed his chin angrily. “I didn’t like how tired we all were. It was set up, sound check, play, break down and move on to the next fucking town. And that wasn’t including all the parties, interviews, and all that other shit.”

“That does sound exhausting, Ed.”

“I didn’t like how easy it was for them to tell me to drop Gareth as drummer just because he had trouble adjusting to the increased volume. The price of fame they said. Like it was so simple to throw away almost two decades of friendship for the sake of adoring crowds and hearing our music on the radio.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Wayne said softly. “They didn’t...”

“Oh they absolutely did,” Eddie raged. “I didn’t like how they thought that because me and Steve’s relationship was new that I would be able to find someone better. Someone who liked metal, someone who would be down for the ride.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “That doesn’t sound like good advice.”

Eddie grabbed his hair pulled at it frustration. “The last straw was when they offered to let their tattooist to finish my back tattoo, because while my artist was good, theirs was better.”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face Wayne. “I picked Steve to do my tattoo on my back because he was the only one I trusted to make it meaningful. To understand the symbolism of making something of yourself when everyone is rooting against you. I made the decision before I fell in love with him and now that we’re a couple– and for them to just dismiss him like that? It made me so angry.”

“So what’s the problem? What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”

Eddie took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I’m fucking furious because I always thought that when fame and fortune came knocking I would throw open that door and march right through it. But now? Given the choice? I’m slamming the door in its face and walking away.”

Hot tears ran down his face. “And I don’t know why.”

He dropped to his knees and began to sob.

Wayne stood up and put his arms around his nephew’s shoulders, gently pulling him to his chest.

“Did that band you were traveling with say that?” he whispered into Eddie’s curls. “Because if they did, I swear to god I will burn every record and CD you have of theirs. Don’t think I won’t. I’ll delete them off your phone too.”

Eddie chuckled weakly. “No, no. They were kind. It was everyone else we met. Agents, managers, roadies, groupies, the people around Metallica every day.”

Wayne nodded.

“I was just constantly bombarded with hateful messages and the constant running at one hundred percent...” he whimpered. “I don’t want to do it.”

“Have you told your band that?” Wayne asked.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t dare to. I was the one that was gung ho about the touring and everything. How do I tell them I don’t want to leave the comfort of Indianapolis and home?”

“Kinda like that,” Jeff said from the doorway. His arms were crossed and he was leaning against the frame. Peaking around him was Miranda with a concerned look on her face.

Eddie scrambled to his feet and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I’m sorry I’ve been a brat.”

Jeff took three giant steps forward and hugged him fiercely. “You’re not being a brat. You’re scared and trying to figure it all out on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? We’ve all been worried sick about you. But Steve especially. I’ll call all the boys down for a chat and you call Steve, okay?”

Eddie nodded.

He dialed the number he knew by heart.

“Baby?” he asked, unsure of the reaction he was going to get. He deserved to be yelled at. Cursed at. Broken up with. He’d hurt Steve the most with this little temper tantrum he’d been having.

“Eds?” Steve breathed. “Sunshine, are you okay? Wayne said you hadn’t been eating well or sleeping much. Say the word and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Eddie’s lip began to quiver and tears spilled out of his eyes. “I need you. More than anything.”

“I’m on my way,” Steve said fiercely.

Eddie looked over at Jeff.

“Tell Steve Brian will swing by and pick him up.”

Eddie nodded and relayed the message back to Steve.

“I’ll be at my apartment,” Steve said. “I’ll have Robin arrange my schedule, don’t you worry about thing, baby.”

“Mm’k.”

“I love you, Eds.”

Eddie closed his eyes and breathed in the warmth of that simple phrase. “Love you, too, pretty boy. Come quick.”

“I promise.”

Steve piled into Brian’s car. It was the newest, having bought it right before they got picked up by Metallica. He had finally saved up enough money to replace his beater.

Gareth and Gethin in the backseat. Gethin had come up to Indy to watch his twin’s apartment while he was gone and just ended up staying. He was currently looking for a job so that he could move in with Gareth full time.

At least that what they said on the trip down. The twins and Brian were intent on filling the air with talk and Steve let them. He let them fill him in on the tour and everything that had been going on since they’d left.

Steve couldn’t be for certain, but it sounded like that touring hadn’t been fun for anyone. Even after a week of rest, he could still make out the circles under their eyes and how hunched over they were with just sheer exhaustion.

A feeling Steve felt all too well.

Gethin was pressed against his twin’s side and was rubbing his neck soothingly.

Steve looked at Brian.

His face was set, hard and unflinching. He was going to make the drive to Hawkins as fast as he could and still avoid the cops.

Steve was grateful Brian was driving because he didn’t think he would have made the distinction to avoid breaking the law. He would have gunned it and flipped off any cop that tried to catch him.

After awhile, Steve was getting the oddest feeling that Brian was used to speeding down this stretch of highway because there were points where he would slow down for a few miles and then speed right back up.

Soon enough they were pulling up to Wayne’s trailer and piling out the car.

Eddie sat on the sofa with Jeff and Miranda on either side of him, just hugging him.

Wayne was busying himself in the kitchen, getting ready to feed the hoard that was about to descend on his home.

The door opened up and Brian, Gareth, and Gethin all stumbled through the entryway. Eddie was on his feet in an instant, Jeff and Miranda not far behind.

And then the trio at the door parted and there stood Steve. Looking just as tired and worn as Eddie felt.

“Stevie?” Eddie asked, taking a step toward him uncertainly.

Steve threw open his arms and Eddie ran straight into them. They wrapped their arms around each other and just sobbed.

“I’m here, Eds,” Steve murmured into Eddie’s neck. “I’m here. I love you so much.”

Eddie lifted his head and kissed him hard. “I love you, too. I regret leaving you behind, sweetheart. It nearly killed me. Every song I wrote was about you. About missing you. I don’t even want to leave you ever again, I can’t.”

The silence that followed that statement was deafening.

Steve led Eddie back over to couch and sat them both down. “Tell us everything, babe.”

And so Eddie did. He told them everything. Everything he had told Wayne, everything that had been weighing on his mind since they started touring. It all just came out in a flood.

They all listened patiently.

“Why didn’t you tell us you felt like that while we were on the road?” Gareth asked. “I knew what they were saying about me, but I also knew you guys wouldn’t drop me. If you had me about that I would have been able to reassure you that I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Eddie flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t know how to bring it up, it was so vile, man.”

Jeff gave his hand a squeeze. “Well, I think that you did a bang up job telling us now and that’s what really matters.”

“Someone offered to ship me out to LA and record an album,” Eddie finally admitted. “Not the band, just me. I told him that I wouldn’t go without you guys and he laughed in my face. Told me to cut the dead weight and be a star.” He dragged his hands over his face.

“But there were other offers. Good ones. Ones that included the band, well most of it, anyway. Always under the proviso that Gareth be replaced either on tour or all together. They didn’t want to make any accommodations for him even though there is a drummer with one god damn arm!”

“So the options are,” Brian said, “stay in Indy doing what we’ve been doing, only better because of the money we got for doing this tour. Go to LA without Gareth. Go to LA with Gareth but only as a studio musician and take some person we don’t know on tour with us. Does that sound about right?”

Just then Gareth’s phone went off. He looked at it with a frown. It wasn’t a number recognized so he let it go to voicemail. He pulled it up after the notification popped up.

He listened to message with wide eyes. “Hey guys, I think we have another option.” And he played the message so everyone could hear.

“Hey, Mr Hughes,” the tinny voice said through the speaker. “This is Murray Bauman, I’m music producer, we spoke in Las Vegas. I think I have the perfect deal for you boys. You were telling me that touring was really hard on you and that if there was an option you wouldn’t do that. I know you weren’t speaking for all your band, but I could tell that they would do anything for you, all four of you being such good friends.

“So the reason for this call is that I own a small music company in Bloomington and boy do I have a deal for you all. You would make a record through us, we would sell and distribute the record, keeping a portion of the sales, of course. But you wouldn’t have to tour. You have a steady gig as I understand it. If your fans want to see you play, they’ll know where to find you.

“But give me a call, we’ll hash out the details. My phone number is 555-555-2080...” and then message beeped, signaling the end of the voicemail.

Eddie looked down at the phone and then back up at Gareth. “Oh.”

Gareth grinned. “We don’t even have to take his offer, but I vote we listen to it. Brian can bring Cecil.”

Brian nodded. “He’s only got a semester left of law school, but I’ll have him brush up on his contract law to be on the safe side.”

Jeff raised his hand. “All in favor of hearing Mr Bauman out raise your hand?”

Eddie, Brian, and Gareth’s hands shot up.

“Sounds good,” Jeff said. “You call him back and set it up and if it doesn’t work out we can vote again.”

Brian shook his head. “Nah. I think if it doesn’t work, we stick to Nightmare Holes. We took a swing at it and if it’s a miss then we tried. I thought I wanted the touring and everything that came with stardom, but like Eddie I learned I wanted the romanticized version of it. I’ll be happy playing in front of our friends for the rest of our lives.”

The rest of the band nodded.

Soon everyone getting up to go back to Indy, but Steve stayed behind, he would go back up with Eddie in the morning. They had things to discuss that went deeper then the band.

****

Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

I told you I would fix it.

Also a little BTS, the reason in my head for why things went wrong on tour but immediately righted itself when Eddie and Steve met up again? Steve still has Eddie's lucky pick. ;)

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee @slowandsteddie @awkwardgravity1 @steaddie-on

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve

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adventuringblind · 1 year ago

Text

Drive With You Forever

Chapter 7.5: The one about Daniel

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader

Chapter summary: Daniel is a pervert and the quartet wants to thank him

Warnings: Daniel is kinda gross in this (I'm sorry, I promise I love him), BDSM themes, dom/sub vibes, consent is given, then taken away, use of safe words, choking, PinV, blacking out and dissasociation, hate fuck, anal,

Notes: I've been on A03 far too much in the last three weeks for research purposes. Now we are here, and I have no idea what I'm doing. But! I give this stupid interlude while I try to figure out who on earth to write smut between three and four people. Don't judge me, okay? I'm trying T_T

Previous <-

Masterlist

Originally, the entire group was dumbfounded, knowing the things Daniel openly talked about. Even though Max had been his teammate for years, Daniel said he couldn't get past seeing him as a seventeen year old kid. Then which talking about such things is just gross.

It was day five of Charles and Max staying with the Australian. The two having found that making sure the door is locked behind them is an important detail.

The text conversation that night made it seem as though they would never consider this an option.

Charles: Daniel is never allowed to go near the children

Lando: what children?

Chatles: you and y/n

Lando: just because we're the youngers dosen't mean we're kids -_-

Y/N: Wouldn't the things we do be very illegal if we were?

Lando: Exactly!

Maxy: I think the idea here is that Daniel doesn't deserve to be around you two. I don't trust him either.

Charles looks over to Max after the lack of respons from their younger counterparts.

Lando: *video message* pretty sure children don't do this.

Max: Ha! Charles just played the video so fast he forgot to check his volume and Daniel came running at an inhuman speed and fell into the door!

Charles: serves him right

Charles: also Lando how are you recording with your tongue down her throat?

Lando: skills ;)

Max: so we're all agreed that we're keeping Daniel at arms length right?

Y/N: without a doubt

Charles: further might be better

Lando: *video* nope he dosen't get to experience this

Things escalated when all four were there. Daniel seemed to love putting his ear to the door. Max had not hesitated to put a hand to his face for that one

Only for him to be more frustrated when Daniel started saying filthy things right after.

Daniel was utterly determined, and it was concerning.

The worst attempt was when Daniel said he was going to a party and wouldn't be back until the morning. Opting to stay with his friend instead of driving and wanting to respect that the four were trying to be out as little as possible.

Pent-up sexual tension came to a breaking point after Daniel had been gone for an hour.

Clothes were off far too quickly. Things had escalated way too far that any logical sense was lost to raging hormones.

They left the door unlocked.

Daniel thought he was so clever lying to them. And in his defense, he was. He waited outside the apartment door for an hour. The walls weren't thin, but with four of them, it was easy to tell what was going on.

He snuck back in quietly. And even managed to get the door open without them noticing.

It took Max three minutes to notice him. Five minutes to get his clothes on. Anither five to make sure his partners were okay. Then an hour of chewing out Daniel.

All four had a usual role that they slipped into. Max happened to be the most dominant of the four. His want for control is not just on the race track.

They'd managed to convince him to give up that control when they raced and someone finished higher, but it wasn't to often.

With this, Max was also dubbed the king of consent. He never did or tried anything without discussion. Always asked before continuing. Communication in the bedroom was easier for him than in everyday life.

So when Daniel decided to watch them without their knowledge, Max was all over him.

"I feel like we should get him something as a thank you." The girl brought up one afternoon.

The other three shoot her a look of shock.

"For what? Watching us be intimate?"

"No, but at least for letting us stay with him and for keeping us safe from everyone but him."

Lando couldn't help but agree. "No idea what to get him thought."

Charles rubs his face. More in exasperation than anything. Sometimes, he hates how giving the younger two can be.

"We could ask him? Maybe take him out to dinner or something?" Shrugs Max.

They asked that night while they were seated in the living room. Daniel had kept some space after Max had lectured him, so the thought of him asking for anything to do with sex was not what they thought would happen.

"Absolutely not."

"You said anything."

"I lied."

"You're speaking for all four of you, Max."

Max exchanges a look with Charles. The two are on the same page. The younger, however, are people pleasers.

"We need to talk about it first."

"I feel bad though."

"Y/N, it's your body. If you don't want to, then you say no. Simple as that."

"But I also want to thank him."

It's a difficult decision, to say the least, but Max eventually gives in to the idea of a discussion.

Max is cautious about his words and makes sure Daniel knows exactly what the rules are. Charles is still reminding the younger two that they can back out at any point. Lando is actually turned on by his partners protectivness over them and thinks but wants to show Daniel their appreciation. Then the female, who has managed to be the only one with three partners she trusts.

This is different.

She trusts Max isn't going to let anything bad happen. She trusts Charles to communicate if she's struggling; the Monegasque can read her body like a clock.

Thats what got them here. Specifically, he got Max in his least favorite place. Out of control.

It didn't help that him and Charles still had their clothes on. It didn't help that they were tied to dining room chairs and made to watch the scene unfold.

Everyone was shocked they gave in to it. But Daniel had agreed to every term and condition, so again, Max relented. Though a bit peeved at being called no fun.

Him and Charles keep exchanging glances. Charles didn't take kindly to being called an attention hog. Ultimately landing him next to Max.

The two watch on as Daniel put himself in charge. They had the luxury of not being tied down and the freedom of moving around.

They knew who was really in charge, though. Every time Daniel did something, they would look to Max and Charles for approval. Only continuing after having been given the nod to continue.

Daniel was the most excited. Finally, he had them where he wanted them. His teammate from years ago made to watch him take his lovers just ad Daniel was forced to watch him steal redbulls' priorities.

Charles who stole away his fans with his charming looks and contagious smile made to watch his lovers smile at him instead.

Lando. His current teammate. Now at his complete mercy after having outshown the entire season.

Then, lastly, the female currently underneath him. The one who he knew was a slut for different men. He finally was getting his chance with her.

It's was perfect. Until it wasn't.

Lando had started disassociating. He was exhausted, and Daniel was relentless. Lando had officially left when Daniel litterally slammed into him for the first time. It hurt way too much for how little they worked up to it. He couldn't communicate his needs, and the girl beside them couldn't either.

She was gone when Daniel started name calling. The filthy things that left his mouth similar to things her dad had said growing up. Similar to those of the toxic fans she worked so hard to combat.

Daniel basically threw Lando to the side and took her next. There was no foreplay for her. There was no build-up. Daniel kept hitting her for some reason she couldn't figure out.

Then, his hands were around her throat. She tried to turn away from him. Look at Max and Charles for help, but Daniel forced her gaze to him.

"Don't look at them. Look at me."

Lando was attempting to come back to himself. Daniel was still touching him roughly, and he wanted it to be over, but to get that, he needed to come back.

"God, I've been wanting to use you so bad for so long."

Black spots dance around her vision. It's funny because the things he's doing and saying sometimes we're nice when they came from her lovers. Why was this so different.

His hands were far too tight on her throat. She couldn't get air in. Her body was going limp on the bed as she tried to force oxygen into her system.

The word on the tip of her tongue. But she was gone before she could get it out.

Lando is the first to feel in happen given he's somewhat on top of her. Daniel doesn't stop, and he's now in panic mode.

He wills himself back. He lets out a shrill noise as he comes back to his senses. Though he curses himself for not just saying his word. But his panicked eyes are still able to meet those of Max and Charles who are looking around frantically.

It's Max who says it first. "Red!"

Bu Daniel either doesn't hear it or chooses to ignore it.

Lando is actively fighting the hold now. Daniel's hand on his face feels like it's burning him.

Then it's Max and Charles shouting the word.

The Australian finally halts in his tracks and removes his hands from the two youngers.

Lando is up in an instant, untying the two. Max first as he is going to drag Daniel off the female. The Charles who's soothing Lando. Helping him to cover up.

"What happened to respecting the safe word?" Max is furious. He can feel he anger boiling over as he shoves Daniel away.

The girl who wanted to please now lay unconscious and naked. Max can see her chest rising and falling it rapid breaths. The bruises and red patches had been blossoming across her skin.

Daniel looks ashamed of himself. He knew he shouldn't go into this with the mindset of taking back something. But he couldn't resist the temptation.

Charles tosses Max a blanket. He lays it down gently over the female to cover her body from Daniel's eyes.

Lando was hurting to the touch, and Charles could clearly see every unnecessary mark. Lando was practically passing out in his arms from the sheer mental and physical exhaustion.

Max shoved Daniel out of the room. He'd lecture him later about safe sex practices and how he needs to watch more carefully.

Something in Max told him he wasn't deliberately trying to hurt them. Daniel just wasn't right going in, and Max could see the regret on his face.

Lando was dripping with apologies. Something Max and Charles were quick to soothe. He wanted to please, and they knew that. It hurt then to see the Brit so distressed.

Max left the room to get supplies. Ice, water, food, and some rags to help the two get cleaned up. Daniel had his head in his hands when he came out.

"I'm truly sorry. I got caught up in my own emotions."

"Look, Daniel, I'm pissed at you for not being careful and disrespecting boundaries. However, at the end of the day, you are still my friend. But I swear to you, if you ever try anything like that again, I'll make sure you never drive another car for the rest of your life."

"Valid." Daniel looks around awkwardly. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you have them."

"Yeah, you're lucky you were on the receiving end of their giving. Neither of them finished because they were so focused on you."

"Yeah sexually they're great. But I mean in every way. I guess I'm jealous of what you four have."

"It is pretty amazing."

"I take it I'm in for another lecture?"

"No, and I think you'll like what ne and Charles are planning for you much better."

Everything hurt when she came back to the land of the living. Her throat and neck were stiff. Her lower half ached in a way she didn't know was possible. Then the memories came rushing back.

She's quick to sit up and look around for her partners. Panic settled in that she did something wrong and disappointed them.

Lando is next to her, still asleep. She vaugley remembers the pain on Landos face when Daniel first took him.

She figures they are going to hear about it later from Max and Charles. But to be fair, they had tried multiple times to get it to stop.

Lando is startled awake at the sounds of a shrill shriek from down the hall.

Both shoot out of bed, look at each other, and assess the damage.

The noise can wait. Hugs are neccecary first.

Lando runs his fingers over her throat, and she traces the outline of red hand prints along his waist.

"Are you feeling alright?" He asks her.

"Sore but okay. You?" Her voice is raspy due to the pressure from earlier.

"Same. I didn't think he would go that hard."

"He didn't listen to Max at all I don't think. And even though we all consented and agreed, I don't think he was fully there to do so."

"Do you think their mad at us?"

"No, we tried to stop it. We didn't do anything wrong."

"Charles wants us to talk about how we two need to put ourselves first."

She groans in exasperation. "Speaking if them, where are they?"

Soon, they find themselves sneaking off down the hall. Their lovers are nowhere insight. Anither shriek startles them.

"You don't think..?"

They come up to the door where the noises are coming from and peer inside.

It takes all their willpower not to laugh as Daniel is at the complete mercy of Charles and Max. His limbs tied tightly to the bed.

They're not even touching him, and he looks completely blissed out.

Max spots the two in the door and nods them inside with a smile. "We've agreed that Daniel needs to learn about respect during scenes. Care to join us?"

The two look at each other skeptically. Is this an order? Is Daniel okay with this?

Charles takes his fingers out of Daniel's mouth and comes to greet the two. "Same rules, different set-up. You two are taking not giving. You hear me?"

That one was definitely an order.

They stare at Daniel, whose muscles are twitching. "Does he... want this?"

"The better question is if you two want this? Otherwise me and Charles are going to make sure he knows what he did was wrong." Max winks.

They can't help but be a little excited at the prospect of watching Max and Charles make Daniel squirm.

Next ->

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak @jjsprobablywrong

@chanshintien @graceelive

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eclecticprincecollector · 11 months ago

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Mayaaranyam ( part: 1)

‘…Baul Zigvolt, Lilia Vanrouge, and Yuu of the Mayaaranyam were a triad; one none-not even the most seasoned politicians- foresaw bonding, but bond they did, and through doing so, they saved Briar Valley from the pain of war. They protected our tranquil Valley from facing the indignities of war with humankind, and while many notables figures of the time were dissatisfied with the triad (with the lady Yuu being of mixed descent), the three of them, however, could not be separated due to the almost remarkably instantaneous bonding they had….

Excerpt from:

The History of the Briar Valley: Volume 212

Chapter: Love is the death of duty’

(Yuu still argues to this day that 'that book is a gross oversimplification of what I had to go through to snag these two idiots—Baul, don’t look at me like that; you know it’s true!’)

Her general was leading them through the Mayaranyam when they first met.

Yuu was miffed to have been on guard duty that day, but hey, what can a girl do? 'Every elf must serve to protect our motherlands-blah blah’ as quoted by her mentor, and then the token ‘you must drop some of those pounds’ from her dear aunt basically pressured her into putting on her armor that night as she fought of tears of anger, while yes, Yuu was strong and capable ( no one could deny her that); she didn’t look anything like most other nobel girls her age; they were willowy, ethereal and pure blooded elves.

While Yuu, oh,Yuu was mixed, she was tainted , or so her aunt liked to constantly say whenever Yuu had the misfortune of crossing paths with her.Yuu tried not to let it get to her, but some days it was hard not to. On days like today she has a mantra:

‘ I will never be the reason the shieldwall breaks; I train too hard for that.’

Her mantra looped in her mind as she made her way towards her post and it only grew louder as she moved towards a suspicious rustling in the leaves a few hours into her shift.

‘ I will never be the reason the shieldwall breaks; I train too hard for that.’

His Elven Lady nearly killed half his party and himself the first time they met.

Although, to be fair to her, they did attempt to trespass (unintentionally), Lilia had no choice but to take a more hidden path toward the heart of the famed Mayaaranyam. Those pesky human troops were snooping too close to the main path, it seemed that even they, incompetent as they were, found out that the forest of illusions had certain paths that allowed those clever few into it’s heart. It seemed to him then, that the reports of humans trying to secure the Elven King's support were true which only made him hurry his people faster into the woods and to the heart of the place to secure the alliance with the king first. Baul would be most disappointed if he were the reason Malenor removed him from serving as her future hand after all. Lilia himself would be most disappointed in himself if he were bested by the humans in this race.

In his hurry, Lilia forgot to take into account that the path he had chosen to take (while it was indeed the shortest of the hidden routes) led straight to the back entrance of the heartland.

He managed to save his idiot general and the troops from the wrath of his darling Elven Lady in the nick of time that night.

Baul was reviewing the proposal made by Briar Valleys Senate to the Elven king of Mayaaranyam, the largest Elven kingdom that holds up to three quarters of all elves, or so he hears. This alliance could shift the odds of the Faes of Briar Valley winning against the allied human kingdoms. So lost was he in thoughts of victory and the political intrigue of his homeland that he almost missed the figure stalking up to them. Alarm bells rang in his mind when he saw her armor.

A Lady of the guard-an angry lady of the guard.

"Halt! My lady, We come in peace! We come from-”

By the end of that night one of the soldiers had unfortunately already lost a finger and another four were bruised and bleeding before they made it into the heartlands-Lady Yuu apologized of course, but only after scorching his pride with the kind words of advice she gave to him and his party.

(Baul argues to this day that Lilia should've known better, but Lilia simply says all's well that ends well).

So…what are your thoughts? ( all mistakes are mine)

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst x oc #lilia vanrouge #baul zigvolt x oc #baul zigvolt #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x yuu x baul #lilia x mc #lilia x yuu #twst diasomnia

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lucascecil · 6 months ago

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Doctor Who - Eighth Doctor Guide

This incarnation first appeared in the 1996 movie ‘Doctor Who’ in which was, at the time, an attempt to bring the show back while trying to bring in American viewers. It was a total failure and the show would only come back on TV in 2005 with the new series. However, these were exciting news to the expanded universe: the Eighth Doctor opened a door to explore new and imaginative ideas in this second half of the wilderness years (as we call the show hiatus from 1989 to 2005).

Virgin Books would lose their license to Doctor Who and therefore their publication of the Seventh Doctor books, at the time the only continuation to the show we had, stopped. Instead, the Eighth Doctor Adventures were released, a book series focusing on the adventures of the Eighth Doctor with new, original companions. And, five years later, Paul McGann would once again step into the role in Big Finish.

These guides include only tv, books and audio stories, but this time only I will make an exception: we’ll include the Doctor Who Magazine Comics too. You totally should give these comics a chance for other Doctors too, but Eight is getting special treatment because the Magazine did its own thing with him just as the other media. It has four well defined narrative arcs/”seasons” and introduces their own original companion. So let’s start!

INTO THE COMICS

‘Season one’ – Adventures with Izzy

[ ] Endgame

[ ] The Keep

[ ] A Life of Matter and Death

[ ] Fire and Brimstone

[ ] By Hook or by Crook

[ ] Tooth and Claw

[ ] The Final Chapter

[ ] Wormwood

[ ] Happy Deathday

This season picks up a plot point from the Seventh Doctor DWM’s comics regarding a recurring villain, but you’ll understand it fine enough even if haven’t read what came before. This is collected as The Eighth Doctor Comics Strips volume 01, as that edition has a summary of what you need to know. Otherwise, it’s a perfect jumping point. The Doctor meets Izzy Sinclair, a young girl from Stockbridge that helps him fight the Toymaker when the elder god takes control of the town, quickstating a long road of self-discovery for Izzy.

‘Season two’ – Continued adventures with Izzy, plus Kroton

[ ] The Fallen

[ ] Unnatural Born Killers

[ ] The Road to Hell

[ ] TV Action!

[ ] The Company of Thieves

[ ] The Glorious Dead

[ ] The Autonomy Bug

This season is collected as The Eighth Doctor Comics Strips volume 02 and introduces a temporary companion I love: Kroton, the good Cybermen. It also has one of the best Master stories ever. It also features the only other proper Grace story ever since I think they just ignored the copyright issue and used her anyway.

‘Season three’ – Continued adventures with Izzy

[ ] Ophidius

[ ] Beautiful Freak

[ ] The Way of All Flesh

[ ] Children of the Revolution

[ ] Me and My Shadow

[ ] Uroboros

[ ] Oblivion

This season is collected as the Eighth Doctor Comics Strips volume 03. This season finishes Izzy’s story while also introducing the next companion, Destrii. It also has one of my favorite Daleks stories.

‘Season four’ – Solo adventures, then joined by Destrii

[ ] Where Nobody Know Your Name

[ ] The Nightmare Game

[ ] The Power of Thoueris!

[ ] The Curious Tale of Spring-Heeled Jack

[ ] The Land of Happy Endings

[ ] Bad Blood

[ ] Sins of the Father

[ ] The Flood

This season is collected as the Eighth Doctor Comics Strips volume 04. For the most part it shows the Doctor rebounding from his goodbye to Izzy (platonically, I see their relationship as paternal), kinda trying to find a new companion (he is pathetic in The Nightmare Game) and dealing with solitude. Then the story picks up when he is reunited with Destrii and they begin travelling together. It has a great Cybermen story.

INTO THE BOOKS

‘Season 01’ – Adventures with Sam

[ ] The Eight Doctors

[ ] Vampire Science

[ ] The Bodysnatchers

[ ] Genocide

[ ] War of the Daleks

[ ] Alien Bodies

The Eight Doctors is a terrible first book, just skip it and start with Vampire Science – which is much better. There is a certain character there who was supposed to be Grace but then they couldn’t use her because of copyright and I do think knowing that gives an interesting perspective to the book. Alien Bodies (great, too) starts a story arc about the War in Heaven. Or, simply put, a much more engaging time war done in the books years before the TV series ever thought about it.

‘Season 02’ – Continued adventures with Sam

[ ] Kursaal

[ ] Option Lock

[ ] Longest Day

[ ] Legacy of the Daleks

[ ] Dreamstone Moon

[ ] Seeing I

‘Season 03’ – Continued adventures with Sam

[ ] Placebo Effect

[ ] Vanderdeken’s Children

[ ] The Scarlet Empress

[ ] The Janus Conjuction

[ ] Beltempest

[ ] The Face-Eater

‘Season 04’ – Adventures with Sam and Fitz

[ ] The Taint

[ ] Demontage

[ ] Revolution Man

[ ] Dominion

[ ] Unnatural History

[ ] Autumn Mist

[ ] Interference – Book One: Shock Tactic

[ ] Interference – Book Two: The Hour of the Geek

‘Season 04’ – Adventures with Fitz and Compassion

[ ] The Blue Angel

[ ] The Taking of Planet 5

[ ] Frontier Worlds

[ ] Parallel 59

[ ] The Shadows of Avalon

[ ] The Fall of Yquatine

[ ] Coldheart

[ ] The Space Age

[ ] The Banquo Legacy

[ ] The Ancestor Cell

‘Season 05’ – Exiled on Earth

[ ] The Burning

[ ] Casualties of War

[ ] The Turing Test

[ ] Endgame

[ ] Father Time

[ ] Escape Velocity

Following the ending of The Ancestor Cell, there is this smaller story arc with the Doctor stuck on Earth for plot reasons I will not elaborate because I don’t want spoil it too much.

‘Season 06’ – Adventures with Fitz and Anji

[ ] EarthWorld

[ ] Fear Itself

[ ] Vanishing Point

[ ] Eater of Wasps

[ ] The Year of Intelligent Tigers

[ ] Dark Progeny

[ ] The City of the Dead

[ ] Griim Reality

[ ] The Adventuress of Henrietta Street

‘Season 07’ – Continued adventures with Fitz and Anji

[ ] Mad Dogs and Englishmen

[ ] Hope

[ ] Anachrophobia

[ ] Trading Futures

[ ] The Book of the Still

[ ] The Crooked World

[ ] History 101

[ ] Camera Obscura

[ ] Time Zero

‘Season 08’ – Continued adventures with Fitz and Anji, joined by Trix

[ ] The Infinity Race

[ ] The Domino Effect

[ ] Reckless Engineering

[ ] The Last Resort

[ ] Timeless

[ ] Emotional Chemistry

[ ] Sometime Never…

‘Season 09’ – Adventures with Fitz and Trix

[ ] Halflife

[ ] The Tomorrow Windows

[ ] The Sleep of Reason

[ ] The Deadstone Memorial

[ ] To the Slaughter

[ ] The Gallifrey Chronicles

INTO THE AUDIOS – THE MAIN RANGE ERA

‘Season 01’ – Adventures with Charley

[ ] Storm Warning

[ ] The Sword of Orion

[ ] The Stones of Venice

[ ] Minuet in Hell

[ ] Solitaire

[ ] If I Should Die Before I Wake

The Eighth Doctor joined Big Finish a little bit after Doctors Five to Seven, but it was still quite early when their main releases were ‘just’ a monthly two-hour long story in the style of the classic series. We call this range of releases the Main Range. As the current Doctor at that point, having McGann back in the role was obviously a novelty and he was instantly joined by India Fisher as Charlotte Pollard, Edwardian adventurer.

Solitaire and If I Should Die Before I Wake are not main range releases but I do think they fit tonally well enough with theses stories and therefore I don’t think there is any problem listening to them here.

‘Season 02’ – Continued adventures with Charley

[ ] Invaders from Mars

[ ] The Chimes of Midnight

[ ] Seasons of Fear

[ ] Embrace the Darkness

[ ] The Time of the Daleks

[ ] Neverland

[ ] Zagreus

This finish the story arc of Charley’s life as was set up in Storm Warning. It all culminates in Zagreus, which is also a 40 years anniversary story of the series. Romana and Leela, former companions of the Fourth Doctor, reappear at the end of this arc and their interaction starts a spin-off just about them in Gallifrey – a series also called Gallifrey. I will not elaborate on it in this post, but let it be noted it happens.

‘Season 03’ – Adventures with Charley and C’rizz

[ ] Scherzo

[ ] The Creed of the Kromon

[ ] The Natural History of Fear

[ ] The Twilight Kingdom

[ ] Faith Stealer

[ ] The Last

[ ] Caerdroia

[ ] The Next Life

Also known as the Divergent Universe arc. It continues at the point Zagreus ended, with Doctor exploring a brand new universe – but there is something disturbingly wrong there. He and Charley are joined by a new companion from this universe, C’rizz.

‘Season 04’ – Adventures with Charley and C’rizz

[ ] Terror Firma

[ ] Scaredy Cat

[ ] Other Lives

[ ] Time Works

[ ] Something Inside

[ ] Memo Lane

[ ] Absolution

[ ] The Girl Who Never Was

The end of this era of Eighth Doctor audios. A goodbye to C’rizz, but a see you soon for Charley. There is a huge cliffhanger at The Girl Who Never Was that is continued on later releases – look at ‘beyond the Eighth Doctor’ if you wanna know about that, but ONLY if you are fine with being SPOILED. Again: THERE ARE SPOILERS THERE.