#Fantasy Fanfic

[writingrock]

the tale of two lovers [1]

pairing: barbarian! katsuki bakugou x reader (female) summary: a bard approaches a lone barbarian in search for a story to tell. Who could have known that the barbarian end up being such a romantic tale.

notes: fantasy au, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, bakusquad, barbarian bakugou

word count: 7.1k

part list

part one: chapter list

a/n: I told myself this would be a oneshot and now it's accumulated to six chapters with no end in sight.

In the heart of this simple town, a rambunctious group of adventurers stumble through the night. Seeking refuge from the cold night. A towering barbarian leads— His broad shoulders clad in woolly animal fur that puffs upwards adding height to his figure. Over his red cape, a scimitar slings over his back serving as a warning to all. Irritation grows with each step, his red eyes darting around his surroundings for shelter.

“Tch.” a grumble leaving his throat as they trudge on, “How hard is it to find a damn inn?” annoyance laces the blonde’s voice. The pink skinned fighter and dragon shifter exchange glances, silently communicating through their facial expressions on how to mitigate Katsuki’s temper. After a brief and wordless discussion, Mina turns to the barbarian.

Attempting to ease the tension, she speaks gently. “Don’t blow a fuse just yet, we’ll find one soon,” Her bright pink skin stands out even in the dim setting, blush pink curls bouncing as she walks, “you’re not the only one who’s exhausted ya know.”. The barbarian rolls his eyes as he moves forward.

Their mindless bickering fills the cool air as they traverse through the town, searching for somewhere easy and simple to stay for the night. Folks that happened to pass by the group could feel their agitation seething from them. Their frustrations would be understood if one simply knew what they’ve been through. Heavy grunts and whiny complaints leaves their mouths as they search for an inn. Exhausted from finishing their recent commission that brought them on a long-winded journey.

Finishing their commission feels like a heavy weight has been lifted from the group’s shoulders. They’ve returned to town to meet with their employer for their reward. Despite how antsy the group is for their pay, they’ll have to wait until it’s day. At the very least, they can get some deserved rest after such a long journey.

A warm glow stops them in their tracks. There’s a bustling inn standing with pride in the centre of the town. The windows are aglow with a golden light, casting a warm, inviting hue onto the weathered cobblestone street below. To them, this inn is a warm haven against this cold night. It appears that their earlier frustrations seem to vanish with this finding. Atop the thatched roof there are wisps of smoke curling lazily from the chimney, carrying the comforting scent of wood, smoke and roasting meat. The smell alone causes their stomachs to grumble. Hunger finally hit them. How long have they been starving? Flickering lanterns hang on either side of the heavy wooden door, their flames dancing within their confines. Hanging above the entrance is a creaky sign emblazoned with the tavern’s name, “The Tipsy Hippogryph”.

The heavy wooden door creaks as it swings open, allowing the sounds and scents of the tavern to spill into the night. The tavern's walls, made of sturdy stone and timber, are adorned with flickering torches and a few faded tapestries. There is a cosy, golden glow over the room. Wooden tables and benches, scarred by years of use, are scattered across the floor, most occupied by patrons enjoying their evening. The low hum of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter create a comforting, lively ambiance. The tavern keeper, a burly man with a thick beard and a booming voice, moves deftly behind the bar, filling tankards with frothy ale and serving plates of hearty stew. His wife, a kind-eyed woman with a quick smile, greets the weary travellers.

“Evening.” She greets warmly, “Looking for rooms or just here for a bite?” It’s clear she’s experienced with her work. There’s a homely touch to her that puts one at ease. Her voice is pleasant with a maternal tone, it welcomes all that step foot into the inn.

Bakugou strides up to the counter, his imposing figure catching the attention of a few patrons. He simply ignores them and speaks to the innkeeper. “Two rooms, we’ll share.” He wastes no time getting straight to the point. Not really keen on small talk or talking in general.

The innkeeper gets to work immediately, flicking through the log book to search for the requested rooms. Her hands are fast to hand the barbarian the keys and inform him where they are located. “If yer hungry, our kitchen is still open.” she gestures to the busy meal area by her side. The place is scattered with patrons from all walks of life. Townsfolk, travellers and merchants. They sit hunched over their mugs, deep in conversation, while others sing raucously, their cheeks flushed from the ale.

At the sound of food, the adventurers do not waste any more time. They find a table by the fireplace. The blooming fire roars in the large hearth, its crackling flames adding to the tavern's warmth. The air is thick with the mingling aromas of roasting meat, fresh bread, and the sharp tang of spilled ale. The scent alone sends them to the edge of their hunger. Eagerly ordering a feast with an abundance of ale to satisfy their stomach. A barmaid weaves through the tables with practised ease, balancing trays laden with food and drink. She exchanges friendly banter with the regulars as she serves them.

In the corner, a minstrel plucks at a lute, singing a cheerful ballad that competes with the din of the crowd. His nimble fingers dance across the strings, and his voice, though not perfect, adds a layer of charm to the tavern's atmosphere. A few patrons clap along, and a couple of children, likely the tavern keeper's, dance near the hearth, their laughter ringing out above the noise. Candles set in iron sconces flicker, casting long shadows that shift and sway with the movement of the patrons. The wooden floorboards creak underfoot, worn smooth by countless feet over the years. The bar is a hub of activity, with patrons jostling for the keeper's attention, coins clinking as they pay for their drinks.

It wasn’t long for the barmaid to come by with their order. As she approached, the enticing smell of the freshly made food made their mouths water. Swiftly, she begins to place the platter onto the round, wooden table. ​​In the centre of the table, golden-brown turkey legs are piled high on a simple steel plate. The skin is crispy and glistening with savoury juices. The sight teases the group as they wait patiently for the maid to finish her job.

A basket of freshly baked bread is placed beside the turkey legs. The bread was still warm, the crust crackling slightly as it cooled. The innkeeper had sliced the loaf thickly, revealing a soft, fluffy interior that begged to be torn apart and slathered with butter. Following that is a large bowl filled with baked potatoes. Each potato was perfectly roasted, the skins crispy and slightly salted. A dollop of melted butter pooled in the centre of each potato, seeping into the fluffy interior and releasing a heavenly, buttery fragrance.

Finally, the barmaid props down a wooden pitcher of ale, frothy and cold, with a rich amber hue. The most exciting addition to the meal. She hands out the sturdy mugs. The ale foams up to the brim, a few droplets spilling over the edges and onto the table.

“Thank you pretty lady.” Denki shoots a charming smile at the barmaid, earning a laugh from her. She waves him off before going back to tend the busy bar. The impatient one, Bakugou, grabbed a turkey leg first, tearing into the tender meat with a satisfied grunt. Kirishima and Mina followed suit, each reaching for a leg of their own. In turn, Sero and Denki dove into the bread, slathering it with butter and passing around the baked potatoes.

They settle into the warmth of the inn, enjoying the hearty meal. Laughter filled the air as they recounted the day's journey, from the close calls during their journey to Denki’s less-than-graceful attempt at flirting with the local from earlier. Bakugou, as usual, mostly grunted in response, too focused on his food and drink to indulge in much conversation. As the night wore on, the group began to grow tired. They’ve satisfied their hunger and now it’s time to turn to other needs. Kirishima stretched and let out a loud yawn, his dragon scales glinting in the firelight. "Alright, I’m beat. Think I’ll hit the hay."

Mina nods, agreeing with Kirishima’s words. She pushes herself off the chair and straightens up, “Busy day tomorrow, we should all get some rest.” The other two members rise from their seats except for one. Bakugou stays in his seat, looking down at his ale. Admiring the deep amber colour. It looks rich and inviting under the flickering light of the hearth. A thick, frothy head crowned the top, with bubbles rising lazily to the surface, creating a satisfying hiss as they popped. The ale clung to the sides of the sturdy wooden mug as Bakugou tilted it slightly, leaving a thin, foamy residue in its wake.

“I’ll be here a while longer,” Bakugou doesn’t look up, “Don’t wait up for me.” He tosses the keys onto the table, keeping the spare for himself. Usually, he’d be the first to hit the sack. Always emphasising on the importance of sleep for the body. But his comrades already know the reason for the sudden change. He needs to be alone. Denki and Sero exchange a glance.

"Don’t stay up too late, Bakugou," Denki teased, slapping the barbarian on the back as he walked past. "We need you in top form tomorrow." As he skips over to Denki, Sero manages to ruffle Bakugou’s hair. Not that it changed much, it’s still a mess.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, taking another swig of ale. "Just.. get outta here." He doesn’t have the energy to be foul. The others laughed as they headed upstairs, leaving Bakugou alone at the table. He leans back in his chair, savouring the quiet and the last few bites of his meal. The inn had began to empty out, with only a few patrons lingering near the bar, their voices low as they finished their drinks.

He stays in his seat, lost in thought, with his pint of ale. Mindlessly watching people leave the tavern, lost in thought. Warmth spreads through Bakugou's chest as he takes a long sip. There was a subtle sweetness from the roasted barley, balanced by a hint of bitterness from the hops that lingered pleasantly on his tongue. The finish is smooth, with a slightly smoky aftertaste, leaving a satisfying sensation that made him reach for another sip almost immediately.

Just as Bakugou was about to take a sip, a figure approached his table. It’s a bard, a lithe man with a lute slung across his back and a curious glint in his eye. He wears a wide-brimmed hat adorned with a single feather, and his fingers were adorned with rings that glinted in the firelight. Bakugou has the intention to ignore the man, he isn’t in the mood for company. Especially from some halfwit in a dumb hat.

The bard gives Bakugou a respectful nod before speaking. “Mind if I join you for a moment, sir?”

Bakugou looks the bard up and down with an unreadable expression. “I do mind, now fuck off.” he gruffly replies as he takes a sip of his ale, “Go bother someone else.”

The bard’s smile remains steady, unruffled by Bakugou's gruff tone. "Forgive me for intruding," he speaks, his eyes twinkling with genuine curiosity. "I couldn’t help but notice you and your companions earlier. You strike me as a man with stories to tell, and I’m always on the lookout for inspiration for my songs. Care to share a tale or two?" His gaze is earnest, carefully assessing Bakugou’s mood, hoping to coax a story from the reluctant barbarian.

Bakugou leans back, grumbling as he takes another swig of ale. "I don’t tell stories. It’s not my thing."

The bard chuckles softly, sliding into a chair without waiting for an invitation. "Everyone has a story, even those who claim otherwise. Perhaps a tale of a great battle, or a quest that brought you to this town? A man like you must have seen his share of adventure."

Bakugou’s eyes narrow, studying the bard. His instinct is to brush off the intrusion, but something about the bard’s easy confidence and genuine curiosity makes him pause. Maybe it was the warmth of the ale or the unusual openness of the evening, but Bakugou found himself surprisingly open to the conversation. He did have a story— one that weighed heavily on him.

"Why do you care?" Bakugou asks, surprised by his own willingness to engage. On any other night, he’d have tossed the bard out or shouted him away.

The bard shrugs, resting his elbows on the table with an air of quiet conviction. "Stories are what keep us alive. They remind us of where we’ve been, what we’ve survived, and inspire others to forge their own paths. Besides," he adds with a grin, "I have a feeling your story is one worth hearing."

Bakugou is silent for a moment, his gaze drifting to the flickering flames in the hearth. He thinks back to all the battles he had fought, the friends he had made, the enemies he had faced. He isn’t one to dwell on the past, but he couldn’t deny that his life had been anything but ordinary. Especially with the most recent chapter of his story: you.

Finally, he sets his mug down with a decisive thud and meets the bard’s gaze. Perhaps the ale has made him loose-lipped. "Alright, I’ll tell you one story. But just one. Don’t expect me to get all sentimental or anything.”

“I met a woman, her name was …”

Your name was scribbled on the back of a map. That was Bakugou’s first introduction to you. He scowled down at what was supposed to be an intricately drawn parchment, then back up at the merchant. “You’re telling me this costs eighty gold and twenty silver?” His teeth clenched, barely containing his frustration at the absurd price. This flimsy, poorly drawn map isn’t worth half that. The barbarian’s patience was wearing thin—this was the twentieth merchant he’d approached in search of this damned map, and all he had to show for it was what looked like a cheap knock-off.

They were hunting for the map of Niniel’s Veil, an ancient, mysterious elven forest known for its dense, enchanted woods. Those who dared venture into it often wandered lost for years, if they ever returned at all. Information about the Veil was scarce, and what little existed was shrouded in myth and legend. All most people knew about was how difficult it was to go in and out of the forest alive. Bakugou was furious to find that after all this effort, all he was offered was this questionable scrap of parchment.

Niniel’s Veil was more than just a forest—it was a vast, sprawling labyrinth of nature. A forest shrouded in ancient magic and mystery, its reputation known far and wide as both a place of wonder and peril. The towering trees, with trunks as wide as castle towers, reached impossibly high, their dense canopies weaving together like an impenetrable tapestry of leaves and branches. The forest floor was an entanglement of twisted roots and thick underbrush, where sunlight barely penetrated, casting the entire woodland in perpetual twilight. Swallowing anyone who dared to enter. Every step inside the Veil felt like stepping into another world, where the air was thick with the scent of moss and the whisper of ancient secrets carried on the wind.

This forest had once been the sacred domain of elven ancestors, a place of refuge and mystery. It was said that within its depths lay countless treasures and artefacts, hidden away by those ancient elves who had stolen them in times of war and turmoil. The promise of these lost relics had lured many adventurers into the forest, but few had ever returned. Those who did spoke of twisted paths that led them in circles, illusions that played tricks on their minds, and creatures that seemed to be made of the very shadows that filled the Veil.

For Bakugou, entering Niniel’s Veil was not a choice but a necessity. He needed to find a lost piece of his draconic artefact, a relic of immense power that had been passed down through his family for generations. Without it, the artefact was incomplete. The artefact was not just a tool; it was a part of him, tied to his very identity and strength. The thought of it being lost forever gnawed at him, driving him to desperation. It’s been left missing for too long and he intended to do something about it.

He stared at the map in his hands, frustration and doubt warring within him. This map was his best chance of navigating the cursed forest, but its authenticity was questionable, and the price was absurd. Eighty gold and twenty silver for a flimsy piece of parchment that might not even be accurate? It felt like a cruel joke after all he had gone through.

But the alternative was wandering the Veil blind, with nothing but his instincts to guide him. The thought of spending years lost in the forest, of never finding the artefact, made his stomach twist. The merchant watched him carefully, sensing his hesitation, but Bakugou was too focused on his internal debate to notice. As he reached for his coin pouch, a pink hand halted him from doing so.

Mina crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently as she watched Bakugou wrestle with the decision. The merchant’s smug grin only made her more irritated. Eighty gold and twenty silver for a flimsy map? It was a rip-off, and she wasn’t about to let her friend get swindled.

“Bakugou, we’re not paying that,” she said firmly, stepping forward. She shot a glare at the merchant. Her voice cut through the tension like a blade, drawing the attention of the entire group. “This is daylight robbery, and you know it. We’re leaving.”

Bakugou’s eyes peeked to her before shoving her arm off him. The ever-present scowl on his face tightened. He was not in the mood. “Mina, we need this map. I don’t have time to play around.”

Mina grumbled under her breath, thinking of the possible choices they could make. That is until she takes another good look at the map. She squints at the name, puzzling over each letter. That name scribbled on the map. It's an obviously forged signature of the true creator of the map. But it seems so awfully familiar. The name. Where has she heard it before?

All of the sudden, it clicks in her head. “Thanks for your offer but we’ll have to say no!” Mina stepped in abruptly.

What was she thinking? They needed that map to better their chances of going through the damned forest. Bakugou was about to bark at her but she cut him off. Without waiting for further argument, she grabbed Bakugou’s arm and yanked him away from the counter. “Come on, guys. We’re out of here.”

“What the hell Mina? We needed that map!” Bakugou barked, fighting Mina as she dragged him out of the shop.

Sero was the first to react, a grin spreading across his face as he watched the scene unfold. “Guess that’s that, then,” he said with a shrug, casually following Mina’s lead. He was more amused than anything, enjoying the way Mina took charge. “Gotta admit, it was a pretty steep price for a piece of paper.”

Denki, on the other hand, looked a bit disappointed. “But what if that was the only map?” he protested, jogging to keep up as Mina pulled them out of the shop. “We might have just walked away from our best chance!”

“Or we just saved a ton of money,” Sero countered with a laugh, clapping Denki on the back. “Relax, Denks. We’ll find another way.”

Kirishima looked between Mina and Bakugou, his expression torn. “Mina’s right, Bakugou. That map didn’t even look legit. I know you’re desperate, but we’ve been through worse without needing to pay through the nose for something like that.”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t resist as Mina practically dragged him out of the merchant’s shop. He hated to admit it, but Kirishima and Mina had a point. The map was overpriced, and there was no guarantee it was even real. Still, the thought of wasting more time searching for another lead made his blood boil. He was a man of action, and every delay felt like another step further from his goal.

Once they were outside, Mina finally let go of his arm and spun around to face the group. “Look, I have a better plan. I know how to get the actual map!” She seemed confident. It raised some eyebrows. What did Mina have up her sleeve to guarantee a rare map?

Bakugou glared at her, his frustration evident, but there was no real anger behind it. “You better be right about this, Mina,” he muttered.

As the group walked away from the merchant, Mina could feel the tension still radiating off Bakugou. She knew how important this quest was to him, but she also knew something that the others didn’t. With a sly smile, she stopped the group and turned to face them.

“I didn’t mention this before because I only just realised it, but I actually know the author behind that map.” Mina began, catching their attention. “I took a good look at that dumb, fake-ass map and recognised the name on the back.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed. “You what?”

A few months ago, the others had been busy with their own tasks— Bakugou training with Kirishima, Denki and Sero fooling around in the market— Mina had taken some time to explore the outskirts of a small town they’d passed through. She hadn’t meant to wander too far, but something had drawn her deeper into the woods until she stumbled upon a naturally formed dungeon hidden beneath a thick canopy of trees. The entrance had been nearly invisible, covered in moss and overgrown vines, but she’d caught sight of it and felt an irresistible urge to investigate.

Inside, the air had been cool and damp, the walls of the dungeon shimmering with faint traces of ancient magic. As she ventured further, she heard a weak voice calling for help. Instinctively, she followed the sound until she found a small chamber, where a person was slumped against the wall, barely conscious. Their mana and health were dangerously low, and it was clear they wouldn’t survive much longer without assistance.

Mina had acted quickly, using what little healing magic she knew and offering her own supplies to help the stranger recover. As she worked, she couldn’t help but feel a connection to this mysterious individual, and when they finally regained consciousness, she was shocked to learn their identity. The person she had saved was none other than one of the most renowned cartographers in the land, famous for their unparalleled skill in mapping even the most treacherous and unknown territories.

Grateful for her help, the cartographer had offered Mina a unique artefact as a token of thanks—a small, intricately carved crystal pendant. It glowed with a soft, blue light, and the cartographer explained that it was enchanted to allow them to communicate with Mina at any time, no matter the distance. “You’ve shown kindness when you had no obligation to,” the cartographer had said, placing the pendant in her hand. “If ever you need guidance or help, you need only call, and I will answer.”

Sero whistled, clearly impressed. “You’ve been holding out on us, Mina. That’s one heck of a connection.”

Bakugou’s frustration began to ease as he listened, his interest piqued. “And you think this cartographer can get us a real map of Niniel’s Veil?”

Mina nodded confidently. “Absolutely. If anyone can, it’s her. And since I helped her out, she’ll probably do it for a fraction of what that greedy merchant was asking. Or maybe even for free.”

Bakugou finally let out a sigh, nodding in approval. “Fine. Contact her. But this better work.”

Without wasting any more time, Mina reached into her pouch and pulled out the crystal pendant. It was a small, clear gem that glowed faintly with a soft, bluish light. Holding it in her hand, she whispered a few words, and the crystal began to hum gently, a sign that the connection had been made. The blue light pulsed gently as the magic connected, and soon a voice came through, calm and familiar.

“Your name and what you need?” the voice asked, tinged with a hint of curiosity.

Mina smiled, her fingers tracing the edges of the pendant. “Hey, this is Mina from a few months ago.”

There was a brief pause, then a soft chuckle. “Ah, yes, I do remember you. Calling for a favour?”

Mina nodded, even though the cartographer couldn’t see her. “So, I need a map for Niniel’s Veil. Could you get me that?”

The line went silent, the only sound the faint crackling of magic in the air. Mina’s heart skipped a beat as she waited, anxiety creeping in as the seconds ticked by.

Finally, the voice spoke again, steady and thoughtful. “Where are you currently?”

Mina quickly glanced around at her friends, who were watching her intently. “Oh, um—we’re at the town of Leford.”

There was a pause, then the cartographer’s voice returned, sounding pleased. “How fortunate, I’m in Khela. I’ll go over to Leford tomorrow. Let’s meet, Mina.”

Mina’s face lit up with excitement. “Really? That’s great!” She could hardly believe her luck, and her grip on the pendant tightened in gratitude.

“Don’t mention it,” the cartographer replied, their tone warm and reassuring. “See you then, Mina.”

Mina exhaled, feeling a wave of relief wash over her as the connection faded and the pendant dimmed. She tucked it back under her shirt, looking up at her friends with a triumphant smile.

“Looks like we’re meeting her tomorrow,” she said, her voice brimming with confidence.

Bakugou gave a satisfied nod, and Kirishima patted her on the back, beaming with pride. “You really pulled through, Mina. Thanks.”

Sero grinned and Denki let out a whoop of excitement, the tension from earlier completely dissipated. They had a plan, and thanks to Mina, they were one step closer to finding the path through Niniel’s Veil.

You look down at the pendant in your hand, watching the soft blue glow fade away. The magic within it settles, leaving only the cool touch of the crystal against your skin. You turn back to the view of Khela, the prosperous town sprawling before you, its beauty tinged with the golden light of the setting sun. You had just finished your business here, so Mina's call was perfectly timed.

Niniel’s Veil. The name stirs something deep within you, a mixture of pride and apprehension. Your mind drifts back to that forest, the memories of navigating its treacherous paths still vivid. That place was hell to map— an ever-shifting labyrinth of ancient trees and hidden dangers. It had taken you and your father five long years to chart every inch of it, and even then, the forest had resisted your efforts, as if it had a will of its own.

Being a cartographer wasn’t just a profession for you; it was a legacy, woven into the very fabric of your being. From the moment you turned ten, your father had taken you under his wing, guiding you through countless expeditions, teaching you the secrets of the trade. Every line on a map, every curve and symbol, held a story—a story your father had passed down to you.

Your thoughts shift to Mina’s request. Niniel’s Veil. It’s not a place one simply wanders through with just a map in hand. You know this all too well. The forest was a living entity, a place where the unwary could lose themselves for years, or forever. Sending them in with nothing more than a piece of parchment would be a death sentence. And after what Mina did for you— saving your life when you were at your weakest— there’s no way you could let that happen. Besides that, you knew your principles wouldn’t allow you to abandon them like that.

Your conscience won’t allow it. You owe her more than just a map. You owe her your guidance, your expertise. She and her companions would need more than directions; they’d need someone who knew the forest’s secrets, who could navigate its shifting trails and hidden perils. With a resolute nod, you make up your mind. You’ll be their guide through Niniel’s Veil. But first, you’ll have to convince them to accept your help.

When you arrived at the inn in Leford, you found Mina and her companions huddled around a large wooden table, deep in conversation. Their chatter halted the moment you stepped closer, their eyes flicking to the pendant hanging around your neck—the very one Mina had described to them. You could feel their wariness, especially from the blond barbarian who fixed you with a hard, scrutinising stare, as if he were already imagining how he might take you down if needed.

“So, you must be the cartographer,” Kirishima said with a friendly grin, his dragon-like features softened by his genuine warmth.

Bakugou, however, was more reserved, his sharp eyes sizing you up. “You got the map?” he asked, cutting straight to the point.

You nodded, but before you could reach for your satchel, you raised a hand to pause them. “I do have the map, but… I’m not just here to hand it over.”

That got their attention. Bakugou’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Sero tilted his head curiously. “What do you mean?” Sero asked.

You gave them a small, knowing smile as you pulled up a chair, sitting down without waiting for an invitation. “Are you guys really planning to brave Niniel’s Veil with just a map?”

Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at you. “What’s it to you?”

You chuckled, leaning back casually in your chair. “Everything. That forest is no joke. I know because I’m the one who mapped it. If you think you can just waltz in there with a piece of parchment and come out in one piece, you’re either fools or far too brave for your own good.”

Mina shot Bakugou a look, clearly trying to defuse the tension. “We appreciate the concern, really, but we’ve been through a lot together. We can handle it.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt your abilities,” you said, your tone still light but with an edge of seriousness. “But Niniel’s Veil isn’t like anything you’ve faced before. That forest has a mind of its own. It twists and changes to trap you, to keep you lost. I’ve seen seasoned adventurers disappear there, never to be seen again. And frankly, I’d rather not add your names to that list.”

Denki looked a little nervous at your words, glancing at his friends for reassurance. “So, what are you saying? That we’re doomed?”

“Not doomed,” you replied, waving off his concern with a smirk. “Just…in over your heads. Which is why I’m offering to be your guide.”

Kirishima leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What’s the catch? People don’t just offer to lead groups into dangerous forests for fun.”

You shrugged, pretending to think it over. “Well, I could ask for some gold, but honestly, this is more of a personal matter. I don’t like seeing good people get themselves killed when it can be avoided. Plus, Mina here did save my life, so I figure I owe her one.”

Mina blushed slightly at the mention of her good deed, while Bakugou’s scowl deepened. “We don’t need charity,” he growled.

“Who said anything about charity?” you countered, meeting his glare with a challenging look. “This is about survival. You need someone who knows that forest inside and out. Someone who’s already spent years mapping its every inch. Like I said, you can try it on your own, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

The group exchanged glances, each of them weighing your words. Finally, it was Bakugou who broke the silence, his voice gruff but grudgingly accepting. “Fine. But if you slow us down, you’re on your own.”

You chuckled again, nodding. “Fair enough. Just try to keep up, and we’ll get along just fine.” You could tell your words struck a nerve with Bakugou—no one tells him to keep up. With a smirk, you tossed the rolled-up map across the table to him, watching as he caught it and unrolled the parchment. The group crowded around the map, eager to take a look.

The moment Bakugou spread out the map, the difference was clear. The shoddy, overpriced map the merchant had tried to sell them was nothing compared to this. Your work was meticulous and precise, every detail painstakingly drawn. The map was likely the best they had ever seen, a masterpiece of cartography. Bakugou’s scowl softened as he took in the craftsmanship, a flicker of something like respect in his eyes. He was relieved they hadn’t wasted their gold on that flimsy knock-off.

“Looks like you really know your stuff,” Kirishima commented, impressed, to which you slightly nodded.

Bakugou said nothing, but his silence was telling. His crimson eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual, scrutinising every inch of your expression as if trying to find a crack in your resolve. But the map in his hands, its detailed lines and intricate markings, spoke louder than any words could. He might not admit it, but the quality of your work had earned his grudging respect. For someone like him, that was saying something.

With a huff, he rolled the map up and rose from his seat, the chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. “We’re leaving at first light. Don’t be late,” he grumbled, his tone more of an order than a suggestion. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the stairs leading up to the rooms, his heavy boots thudding with each step.

As Bakugou disappeared from view, the atmosphere around the table shifted. The rest of the group visibly relaxed, the tension that Bakugou’s presence often brought fading away. Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t mind him. That’s just how he is. He’s actually a good guy—just takes a while to warm up.”

Sero leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, once you get past the scowl and the growling, he’s practically a teddy bear. A really, really angry teddy bear.” Denki snickered, nodding in agreement. “Just don’t tell him I said that. I like my head attached to my shoulders.”

Mina, ever the peacemaker, smiled warmly at you. “He’s right to be cautious, though. We’ve been through a lot together, and he’s just looking out for us. But I’m glad you’re here. I think we’re going to need all the help we can get in Niniel’s Veil.”

You couldn’t help but appreciate their camaraderie, the easy banter and the unspoken trust that bound them together. It was clear that they had faced their fair share of challenges, and the way they talked about Bakugou revealed a depth of loyalty that went beyond mere friendship.

As the conversation flowed, they began sharing stories of their past adventures, tales of battles fought and enemies vanquished, of close calls and hard-won victories. Each story painted a picture of a group that had seen the worst the world had to offer and come out stronger for it. You listened intently, absorbing their words, getting a feel for the dynamics at play.

But amidst the laughter and reminiscing, there was also a word of caution. Kirishima, his expression serious for once, leaned in and said, “Just one thing: Bakugou’s on a mission. It’s personal for him. He won’t tolerate anything—or anyone—that gets in his way. So just…be aware of that.”

You nodded, understanding the weight of what he was saying. They had told you briefly about their journey to Niniel’s Veil. The draconic artefact, the quest they were on—it wasn’t just about survival or adventure for Bakugou. It was about something deeper, something that drove him relentlessly. They didn’t really tell you details. You respected it quietly, not wanting to pry over something private.

Despite the thrill that tingled at the edge of your senses, there was a weight in your chest as you thought about Niniel’s Veil. The forest was no ordinary place—its dangers were real, its curse tangible. Returning there as a guide was a challenge that stirred something deep within you, but it was tempered by the sobering knowledge of what awaited. You knew the risks, the treacherous paths, the way the forest itself seemed to conspire against those who dared enter.

This wasn’t just another expedition. It was a test of survival, a journey where one wrong step could mean the difference between life and death. And yet, you had accepted the responsibility to lead them through it, to navigate the shifting shadows and ancient traps that had claimed countless lives before.

Tomorrow, at first light, the real journey would begin. You steeled yourself for the challenges ahead, knowing full well that what lay beyond the veil was as deadly as it was unknown. But this was your path now, and there was no turning back.

You had long grown accustomed to the early mornings, a discipline hammered into you by your father from a young age. He believed that a cartographer had to rise with the sun, to seize every bit of daylight for the work ahead. Expeditions didn’t wait for anyone, and neither did the maps that needed to be drawn. Over the years, waking before dawn became second nature, ingrained into your very being. So there you were, seated alone at a worn wooden table in the inn’s common room, the first rays of morning light filtering through the dusty windows.

You tore off a piece of buttered bread, savoring the simplicity of the meal as you waited. The inn was quiet, save for the occasional creak of old floorboards or the distant sounds of a town beginning to stir. It was a moment of solitude you had come to appreciate—a calm before the storm that was sure to follow once the others arrived.

Bakugou was the first to appear, his heavy boots thudding down the stairs. You glanced up from your breakfast as he entered the room, surprised to see him pause when he spotted you already seated. It was clear from the flicker in his eyes that he hadn’t expected you to be awake, let alone waiting. There was a brief moment of mutual acknowledgment—him noting your early rise, you noting his surprise.

“Hmph,” he grunted, more to himself than to you as he strode over to the table. “Didn’t think you’d be up before the sun.”

You shrugged, popping a bit of bread into your mouth. “Old habits die hard. Besides, I figured I’d give you lot some extra time to get your beauty sleep.”

Bakugou snorted, dropping into the chair across from you with a scowl. “We’re not here for pleasantries, so don’t think I’ll be impressed by your early wake-up calls.”

“Good,” you replied, leaning back in your chair with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to set any unrealistic expectations. But I’ll warn you—Niniel’s Veil won’t wait for anyone, not even you. Early starts might just save your hide.”

He narrowed his eyes as if he was weighing your words. “Just make sure you don’t slow us down. I’m not in the mood to babysit anyone.”

“Babysit?” you echoed with a laugh. “You’ve got it backward, Bakugou. I’m the one making sure you don’t wander off and get yourselves killed. That forest isn’t going to play nice just because you’re loud and stubborn.”

“Loud and stubborn gets results,” he snapped, but there was an edge of amusement in his tone. “But we’ll see if you’re as good as you say you are.”

You locked eyes with him, the challenge hanging in the air between you. “Oh, I’m good, alright. Just try to keep up.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension taut but strangely invigorating. Then Bakugou huffed, breaking the silence. “Don’t get cocky. We’ll see if you’re still talking like that when we’re deep in that cursed forest.”

You chuckled, the sound low and knowing. “I’ll be fine. Just worry about yourself, barbarian.”

Bakugou leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a grunt. Eyes glaring at you with a shadow of annoyance. “Tch. We’ll see. Sthyarli.”

The word rolled off his tongue with a sharp edge, his tone laced with disdain. It was clear he didn’t expect you to understand it, let alone respond. But you had spent years travelling the continent, picking up languages like a second skin. Draconic, while not your strongest, was one you had made sure to grasp. It was a necessity when mapping regions native to dragonborn. What began as a practical skill soon became a weapon in your arsenal. One you were now thankful for, if only to wipe that smug look off his face.

You scoffed, unimpressed by his attempt to catch you off guard. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

The surprise in his eyes was brief but unmistakable as your retort slipped out in his own tongue. “Tiamash.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening for a moment as the insult sank in. He hadn’t seen that coming, and for a split second, you caught the barest hint of respect mingled with the irritation in his gaze.

“Hmph,” he grunted, his voice low and dangerous. “Careful. You might just bite off more than you can chew.”

You grinned, unfazed. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Bakugou’s lips twitched as if he was fighting back a retort, but instead, he just shook his head, rising from his seat with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Keep running that mouth. Just don’t slow us down.”

As he turned away, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. Matching wits with Bakugou might have been risky, but it was also undeniably rewarding. The tension lingered in the air as he stalked off, but it was clear that you had earned a small measure of his respect. There was a sense of mutual understanding between the two of you now—a recognition that while you might not be friends, there was respect born from the knowledge that the road ahead wouldn’t be easy for any of you. And as you sat there, finishing the last of your bread, you couldn’t help but think that perhaps this journey, dangerous as it was, might just be worth it.

next chapter

a/n: thats the first chapter, the next one will come next tuesday !! be ready for the next one @chocogoldie

sthyarli: idiot tiamash: asshole

border credits: @enchanthings & @adornedwithlight

© writingrock 2024 do not copy, translate or repost.

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 161- Cat Scratch Fever

Summary: A black cat crosses Josie's path bringing more bad luck to the Dorwinion castle. Narcisse is off kilter. Charles and Francis unite but not in agreement over their mother. Mary feels deep guilt of her knowledge. Francis gets under Josie's skin. She and Lola speak more about Narcisse's past. A cut won't heal. Bash has a scary story to tell. Josie panics over a possible resurrection.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, censored gif, sexual references, murder mentions

Chapter characters: Josie, Narcisse, Charles, Francis, Mary, Lola, Bash

Chapter word count: 8,447

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

When you got to Stephane's chambers, all was quiet after you knocked well over three times and called to him. Odd it seemed, considering the guard had told you Narcisse said it was urgent, so now you became concerned.

"Stephane?!" you loudly called to him one more time and wriggled the locked door handle.

Suddenly, you saw a shadow moving rapidly pacing about under the door and heard Stephane's charcoal gray magical Maine Coon cat Merlin, crying and clawing at the door. The crying swiftly then turned into a low emitted growl as if something were frightening him.

"Merlin sweety? What's wrong?" you asked as you bent down and placed your fingers under the door so you could scratch his chin, but he wanted no part of it. Instead, he began to hiss.

Something was wrong. Merlin was no "pussy" per se. In fact, he was quite the bad ass like all cats believed they were, so the scaredy cat persona was completely out of character for the long locked beauty of a beast.

"Alright honey. I'm coming in." you warned and gave the door handle an electric zap with a single twirl of your finger.

The latch made a loud click and then you cautiously pushed the creaking door open.

"MROWWW!!!" Merlin screeched and sped out of the room so fast, you almost tripped over him.

The room was dimly lit with all the curtains closed and on the sofa laid a sprawled out sleeping Stephane with one hand clutching an empty goblet over his stomach and the other hand grazing the floor with dried blood all over it.

Gasping, you quickly made your way to him, finding yourself crunching over a broken and bloodied shards of a mirror upon the floor. Kneeling down beside him, your widened eyes studied his chest to make sure he was breathing, which he was but it had a low raspy sound to it that reminded you of a....tiger's growl?? and he reeked of whiskey. Believing he was just snoring and intoxicated, you studied him over some more, especially his injured hand as you gently picked it up by his wrist so that you wouldn't shock him.

Angling his hand about to assess it, you noticed his gold ring, the one he always fidgeted with when he was anxious or lying. You had never paid much attention to the details of the ring before but now you could see it bore two gemstones, side by side as one piece that reminded you of the yin and yang symbol, for one stone was a black onyx and the other was a white moonstone. You knew that yin was of darkness and yang was of light. Could that be what the ring symbolized?

Moving your eyes on to his knuckles, they were all tore up so it was apparent that he had punched the mirror, but why was the question? Your hunch was the combination of the booze and his anger at you stemming from Haldir's spontaneous lip lock that he witnessed and possibly even something to do with Catherine's eldest son making an unannounced arrival that Stephane had clearly been upset about.

In that moment, Stephane had been dreaming. It was the day you first came to Dorwinion and he found you his red clover field searching for Haldir's gifted dreamcatcher you had dropped in the colossal cluster. At least he thought it was you as he viewed your long wavy scarlet strands from behind. Upon the woman's turning around, he found himself uttering the same words of shock that exited his lips that day and it wasn't the only shock he got.

"It is....you."

"Here kitty kitty kitty. Miss me? I've sure missed you. It's time to wake up once again, just as I had awoken the beast once before." Caroline cackled, forming her wicked grin and then clutched his hand, sending a burning jolt of juice through him, much like the one you and he experienced that day when your hands touched.

Feeling bad about his hand, you softly laid your hand over his wounds to heal him and in doing so, the electric current that you and he shared when your hands touched, shot right through both of you, startling him awake. But it wasn't Narcisse that you awakened.

Towering over your cowered body as you laid upon the floor in sheer terror, was a snarling and salivating beastly black panther with razor fangs as white as pearls and eyes that burned of the sun...and gusting from his roaring lungs was a fiery breath not of peppermint, but of black pepper.

"AHHH CHOOO!" you uncontrollably sneezed, spraying out a mist of sparkling silver water droplets into the ferocious feline's face.

He roared in pain and swung his paws in a frenzy at his eyes, giving you enough time to run and hide behind Stephane's liquor bar to try and rationally think of what to do, for this colossal cat was Narcisse and you didn't want to hurt him with your magic if you didn't have to, although it seemed you accidentally already had.

You were planted in a panic against the wooden bar, holding as still as you could as your frantic eyes scoured the darkness for movement and your ears searched for sound. Surely the beast would find you by sniffing you out, especially now that you noticed the palm of your hand had been scratched by the creature's claws and was bleeding. What in the hell was happening?? You knew nothing of his shapeshifting power. How the fuck did Narcisse transform into a giant fucking black cat before your very eyes and WHY?????

Your shallow breaths ceased as you heard grunting and groaning and then all went quiet again. As you prepared to counter attack in the least harmful way possible, you were grabbed by the arm and swiftly pulled to your feet by a sweating Stephane.

"Are you alright Jo???" he panted, steadying himself on the bar as you gaped at him in a frightful confusion.

"I...I...uh...umm...yes. I..think I should be asking YOU that??"

Narcisse glanced around, seemingly disoriented. "I...I don't feel so well."

He began to lean and fall, but you caught him and assisted him back to the sofa.

"What...what did you do to me??" he groaned and plopped onto his back, rubbing his eyes similarly to how the elephantine ebony cat had done.

"I...I don't..know?? I..I didn't mean to do anything. Lie still. I'll get you a wet rag soaked in healing water."

You cleaned your hand in the water which seemed to have ceased the bleeding, then quickly came back and sat beside him, forcing his rebelling hands away by his wrists in order not to shock him again and then laid the cool cloth over his inflamed eyes.

Narcisse made a frown as he licked his lips. "Silverbane. I can taste it. You sprayed me with fucking silverbane."

"W..what? I..how? and...I thought you were immune to poison??"

"Well apparently I am not to yours which you seem to have as a built in defense mechanism. I really wish you'd get your magical shit together Jo." he blindly griped with gritted teeth as he held the rag firmly over his eyes.

"But...even I can be hurt by Silverbane?? So how do I...oh wait..." you gasped. "It's just like Garrett. He can be hurt by fire, but yet he has fire power inside of him....and at Lestat's...I....I almost forgot....I had somehow conjured up Silverbane from thin air and blew it at my mother when she had almost depleted all of Garrett's blood."

"And yet once again, we are back to the vicious vampire." Stephane snarled as he snapped the rag to the floor with a huff and sat up.

He was somewhat right, you supposed. There you were, referencing Garrett after what you could describe as a cruel and vicious vision he sent you only moments earlier in your chambers. Even so, what you recalled was all still very relevant which would never matter to Stephane.

"You speak to me about being vicious after I just watched you turn into a very large vicious cat???? No wonder Merlin hightailed his ass out of here. Even he was afraid....and...so were you, for my safety. I can only assume that this is what was so urgent? What the hell is going on Stephane???"

"What's going on is that I'm a bit incapacitated at the moment which you seemed to have forgotten." he defensively deflected in which you immediately pointed out.

"Stop deflecting. Here. Let me heal you and...."

"No! Do not touch me Jo. A bath in the healing waters will do just fine." Narcisse barked as he abruptly scooted away from your extended hand.

"Ok, then at least let me help you."

"I'm perfectly capable of taking a bath...alone. Don't you have some place better to be? Like say...Mirkwood?"

Narcisse rose and headed for his bar to pour another drink, for his nerves were now unbearable after what had happened.

You flung to your feet and followed him. "YOU asked me to come here to your room...and now you want me to leave...and...for good?? What, kicking Haldir out wasn't pleasurable enough for you??? You want me to travel with my child when Harker is stalking all of us???" you reeled with stinging wet eyes.

Stephane's eyes refrained from yours as he knocked his drink back and poured another. Of course he didn't want you to go but his pride wasn't about to let you know that.

"Oh it was quite pleasurable to send the Lorien sprite packing. You have Legolas now since I see I now have more unwanted guests in my castle. He will keep you and Leean safe on your travels."

Narcisse turned without so much of a glance at you and walked to the other side of the sitting room with you once again following.

"You heartless son of a bitch! Have you forgotten why I am even here???! I need that book to stop Jareth!!"

An angry tear jetted down your cheek as you sharply blinked from Stephane's aggressive advance into your face.

"Heartless??!!!!! After ALL I have done for you and your company! All of the kindness I have offered you that I have never given to anyone else! Sleeping in my bed right after I confessed I was in love with you and I even pathetically allowed myself to shed tears at your feet over the fear of losing you. You also allowed me to love that little girl. YOU are the one who has forgotten! ALL you care about are the elves and that fucking vampire. You played me well Josephine. Beat me at my own past games of using someone for pleasures of the flesh. I can see I was right when I had once told you that you were a worthy opponent because no other has ever possessed the ability to make me feel less than I was and I can see no possible means of recovery from it. But I guess I have no one to blame except myself for letting my defenses down and letting you in, allowing you to see me bare in more ways than just my skin. Do you remember when I told you that?? That if you and I were to dive into those waters, that is what you would see? But the thing is...you don't see me! And you never will. I will never make that mistake again. I opened my heart to you. I told you things I would never tell a single soul. I threw you the grandest of birthday parties to make you feel better and because you hadn't had one since you were a child. I risked my life and men for you! I have even saved you from yourself! And for what?? To watch you kiss both Haldir and Garrett. Maybe, instead of standing here tearing my own self worth to shreds, I need to realize that I am not less just because I was much more than your inexperienced little hands could handle."

"Please...please stop Stephane. This was never about who you are. I know I hurt you and I am so very sorry, but I swear I never used you. I genuinely care for you, ALL of you and appreciate all you have done for me and Leann, or I would already be running after what I had just witnessed. I don't want to lose you too. Why can't we just please sit down and talk about this...really talk and listen and stop trying to hurt each other?? Let me try to fix this."

Narcisse knew that he had already scraped the bottom of the barrel with all he had just said and now he knew he must go even lower. You just weren't safe with him anymore.

"Because I have come to see it is no longer worth it. You...are not worth it and never were. It IS very much about who I am. It's about who everyone is because no one is your precious King or even Garrett, for they are all you speak of. No one else is good enough for you. I will not let you have me without the madness that makes me. If our demons cannot dance, neither can we." he growled with cold eyes and walked away again.

This time you did not follow, but stood there with a gaping mouth as many tears now fell.

Pouring himself more of the liquid courage to help him proceed in ripping both of your hearts out some more in order to push you away, Stephane drank it down, hesitating to turn and face you, for he could feel your tears and to see it would break him, so he remained a coward and faced the bar, then reluctantly began to continue on about Catherine.

"I called you here to inform you in person about Catherine so you wouldn't be blindsided by her release. Is that what a heartless person would do?"

"Catherine's....re...lease??" you stammered. "Wh...why on earth would you do such a thing????"

"I do believe that is none of your business. My castle, my rules and it's about time people start respecting that. I told you what you needed to know, now what you need to do is pack up your daughter and go back home with Legolas after this night."

"Are...are you insane??? Not only is Harker out there but so are Jareth's orcs! They attacked Legolas and Aragorn and almost killed the man who is travelling with them!"

"Insane? I have been called much worse, although I am sure many would be inclined to agree with you. Now, you can take your opinion and run along. I have a much needed bath awaiting before entertaining the enemies."

Narcisse gulped down the last of his bottle, then grabbed a robe and stormed out of the room, leaving you not only reeling at his lack of giving a shit but also wondering where he was even going since his bath was right there in his chambers, so once again, you followed him.

The room you entered consisted of a sizeable stone pool surrounded by dim candlelight and the air scented of floral fragrance, for upon the opaque water floated multiple flower petals. Pink roses if you were to guess.

Stephane stared at you with a scowl and undressed right before your stunned eyes, then scoffed when you promptly turned away upon the removal of his leather pants.

"As if you have never viewed my cock before. Why are you still here??" he griped as he yanked his ring off, then threw that and his robe to the floor.

The Yin and Yang gemstone clanked it's way to your feet. Keeping your back to the very nude Narcisse, you snatched it up.

"Oh stop with the infantile theatrics for once. You know why I'm here. You don't get to drop a bomb on me like that about Catherine and just walk away. I demand to know why you would set her free!!"

You trembled as you could feel him creeping up behind you. It wasn't because you feared him but because of how intimidated you were by his bare form. Not only had you laid your eyes upon the splendid sight of sculpted beauty a few times before, but you had also laid your body on it as well, so why were you so damn nervous??

"YOU will demand nothing of me." he snarled into your ear as he reached around you and swiftly snatched the ring right back out of your hand, but not fast enough to avoid the electrifying current. Gasping in unison with you, Narcisse quickly made his way into the vat of sparkling liquid and sat down to conceal his waxing wood, for the shock had greatly aroused him.

Slowly, you turned to face him once you heard the slosh of his descent beneath the water.

"Well then, I guess Catherine being on the loose is the lesser of two evils with what else has been released!"

"Alright, I'll bite. What do you mean?" he firmly asked while sitting stiffer than the stiffness below him.

"It's what I have been trying to tell you and why I need to find Ashmole. Jareth has done it. He has risen the dead, just like that psychic woman told me at my party or...I should say, like Peter told me in that vision I saw of him and now...he will come for me! I cannot leave here Stephane! Or you would be handing me right to him."

"And just how is it that you know this?"

"How do you not?? You know he has the three page spell to do it, no thanks to my mind altered father and just before I came to you today, I...I had another vision. It was...it was the vampire Kate. I saw her, with a head and all and...with Garrett. My visions are just like my dreams, both of the present and future and they are increasing and if I saw Kate, then many more are out there somewhere, waiting for something, something that I fear will change our lives forever. I fear a war is coming for the winter solstice. An army of the dead. I feel it. Even Legolas senses something sinister in the air."

Narcisse's bright blues gaped at the water in realization that your words were true. Jareth was the reason Rahl had resurrected and in that moment, he saw his denounced dark half reflecting back at him in the ripples, clawing at his soul to fully emerge from the grave...a box bound by 7 iron chains buried deep inside of Stephane's mind where he had cast him out to, but he could feel the chains breaking, one by one as if it were the rapture.

"Ahhh, I see now. That is what has your panties all in a bunch. Once again, it is because of Garrett. You're jealous."

"W...what??? What the hell is wrong with you??!! THAT is all you can speak of after what I just told you?? Not to mention AGAIN that you are releasing Catherine and having some party tonight as if Harker and the dead are not upon us! Oh, and there's the fact that you shapeshifted into a wild cat larger than Blaze! Seriously, what is happening? WHO are you and what have you done with Stephane???"

Stephane's expression was sullen and his gaze soulless, much like the soulless orbs of the animal that preyed upon you moments earlier. A soulless animal he once told you he was not and his words were as icy and cold as his dilated blues.

"The man you speak of no longer exists."

As you stood frozen by his words, he rose from the water. It was a shimmering sight that you now could not remove your eyes from no matter how hard you tried, almost as if magic were being used upon you, breaching your shield.

Narcisse slowly approached you in a most tantalizing manner, the water dripping and glistening over every inch of his masculine form as if he had been slathered in baby oil as his cock gave you it's undivided and full attention.

"I'm a monster. Refume by unfortunate events and given breath by necessity."

You took a staggering step back, unable to breathe. Unable to break the animal magnetism radiating between your bodies until his pupils glowed of the sun once more, followed by a low emitted growl that vibrated through his adam's apple.

Gasping, you stumbled back and found yourself racing out the door and down the hall, constantly glancing behind you, expecting to once again see the melanistic monster with paws measuring the size of both your hands combined, charging after you, but instead, you ran smack dab into Charles as you turned the corner.

"My lady?!! You...you look a fright." the young warlock exclaimed as his arms clutched tightly around your waist.

"I..." you panted and swung your head around to see an empty quiet hall behind you. "I...oh gosh. Well now I am just embarrassed." you softly said as you released Charles while a handful of people he had been speaking with, all stared at you.

"I was just...in a hurry...that's all. I apologize for my clumsiness." you explained, glancing behind you once more.

"Are you sure that is all it is? It would seem as if you believed something were...chasing you?"

His eyes were concerned and confused and you had to wonder if Charles knew of his father's "condition", but you certainly were not going to ask in front of the all the eyes still upon you.

"Oh no, no. I just need to go refresh for this evening's gathering, so I...I will just be on my way now. I'll see you then."

You awkwardly smiled and quickly resumed your path but once you came to the end of the hall, Francis and Mary rounded the corner. As the King and Queen of Lake Town passed you, Francis had slowed his pace to lock his baby blues with yours once again. He also offered you a slight head bow and a subtle smile, then continued on his way to call out to his half brother Charles.

Out of curiosity, you stood by the exit to watch as Charles turned with a sizeable smile.

"Francis." he raved and gave a hand swaying bow to the golden haired King.

Francis skipped the formal greeting altogether and went straight to embrace his little brother as Mary kept her distance and watched as well.

You knew nothing really about Francis but from what you could see, he truly cared for Charles and vice versa.

The two stood and conversed, but not loud enough for you to hear, so after a moment, you turned to leave, only to be startled by Mary.

"Oh..my!" you halted and gasped as your hand planted onto your chest.

"Oh dear, my apologies. Forgive me. I did not mean to frighten you. I am Mary. And you are Queen Josephine of Mirkwood?"

"Y..yes...I.."

"I am sorry we did not have the chance to meet when you and your King were in Lake Town. My King and I were away on business. Luckily I suppose, considering the dragon's destruction. I would like to thank you for your aid in ridding of the foul creature and I...I offer you my...condolences over King Thranduil."

"Thank you." you simply and softly replied as your eyes fell.

Her eyes fell too as she fidgeted with her clasped fingers that laid upon the beaded bodice of her golden gown, that from the waist down, looked as if a thousand ducks had been plucked to assemble it. The girl was most likely no older than you with long waves of dark chocolate hair coordinating with her coffee hues and in them was a pool of true sorrow. Mary knew of the breath that Thranduil still took and may have been aiding her own King in Narcisse's blackmailing, but she was far from content with it. She did it only for the happiness of Francis so his mother could be free, even when she herself knew what Catherine was, for the two always clashed. No one was good enough for Catherine's son, whom Mary deeply loved. And because of that love, she couldn't even imagine what you must be going through.

"A...penny for your thoughts?" you asked the suddenly distant girl who you just realized probably did not even know what a penny was. "Oh...sorry. It's just...modern day currency where I'm from."

Mary's rosy lipped smile grew wide as she giggled. "Oh, I know what it is. My late father-in-law was the greediest man in all of middle earth. He traveled far and wide and had quite the colossal collection of riches, even pennies, which he had mounds of."

Well, that explained to you why Peter ended up there in his search for you and bought the emerald pendant from the abhorrent Alfrid just before Thranduil had captured him. If anyone was a greedy bastard, it was piggish Peter.

"I just...I feel terrible for what you have been through. Word travels far." she continued, then smiled again. "I'll take my penny now."

"Well." you smiled back. "If I come across one again, I will give it to you."

"That would be nice. I know they are not worth much, but to be gifted one from a beautiful Queen would be quite the treasure. It is nice to meet you Josephine. I hope we will see more of each other. I better tend to my husband. He and Charles seem to be in a disagreement of sorts."

You smiled and turned to see and hear the two young men quarreling and you knew exactly what it pertained to. Catherine being released, for Charles was greatly opposed to it and it was quite apparent that Charles had the better head upon his youthful shoulders when it came to her true colors.

"Just ask Josie! She'll tell you!" Charles shouted and motioned for you to come over.

"I do not need to hear her side, for it is not her decision." Francis firmly stated.

"And it is yours?? This is not your castle. It is my father's!"

"And he has agreed to free her. She is our mother Charles. She will not be treated like an animal! Why on earth would you side with the man who destroyed our family??"

Charles scoffed at his brother and quickly turned to you, where you stood hiding slightly behind Mary.

"Is this true?? Did my father agree to release her???" he asked in desperation.

"I...Charles...I'm..sorry. He...has and.."

"Unbelievable!" he snapped and spun back to Francis. "She coerced our sister into using black magic to kill a King vampire, which could have brought a war to our lands that we would surely lose and she also forced her into helping to poison a Lorien elf! And now our sister faces being banished from here with a newborn child!"

"Claude is a grown woman and made her own choices. She was not forced. She will be better off away from here anyways and to return with me to Lake Town, our home Charles! Where you should be as well."

"THIS is my home. I will go nowhere with you, nor will my sister!! You're as mad as our mother! I am going to go have words with my father!"

Charles stormed past you, but you grasped his arm. "Charles, no! I...umm, Narcisse...he's...he's in a bad way at the moment and I would not advise a confrontation. Trust me...please." you pleaded with worried but stern eyes which Charles seemed to understand.

He stiffened up straight and sighed as he lifted his chin to glare at Francis.

"I don't know what you have done to my father, but know this. This is far from over...brother."

Your heart was racing as Charles marched off, for you were praying he would heed your warning about Narcisse. Charles may have been merely 19 years old, but he was hot headed and certainly no push over, just like his father.

Francis turned to you with a smile, showing no sign of shame or regret over the dispute. It was as if it had not even happened.

"My lady. We have not been properly introduced. I am King Francis of Lake Town and I am honored to be in the presence of such beauty."

The audacious blonde bowed down, then took your hand and kissed it right on front of Mary, making you feel terribly awkward and bad for her.

You gently and politely as possible, slipped your hand out of his and forced a smile, when really, all you wanted to do was slap him.

"I...I am Josephine."

"Oh I know exactly who you are. A queen as well. It is such a shame to hear about your King. I suppose now I will have to confer with Legolas for our trades. Or maybe...I shall speak with you instead? I would greatly prefer that. Maybe over some dinner and wine?"

The words going through your mind at that moment were far from queen like. The nerve of this jackass...oh god, Josie, calm down. Breathe. You glanced at Mary, who remained silent with her head hung low, fidgeting again with her hands.

"It is King Legolas and he would be the one to speak business with is usually not discussed over dinner and wine."

The look in his blue eyes told you he was turned on by the way you shut him down.

"We can always skip the business then and just enjoy each other's company. In the meantime, I'll let you ponder on that. Mary...come. I must go see my mother now."

Francis walked off, not even waiting for Mary, so you quickly stopped her.

"I...I am so sorry for that. Please know, I..I would never..."

She softly smiled and took your hand. "It is alright. You are not his first conquest and certainly will not be his last. I..I must go."

As you watched her catch up to Francis, you wondered the same thing that Charles had asked...how did he get Narcisse to free Catherine? Off you then went as well, for you needed to speak to Lola about Stephane's past once more.

Lola was rocking Leean's cradle and singing softly to her when you arrived and you noticed her tears before she quickly turned away to wipe them.

"Lola?? Is everything alright?"

"Oh yes." she proclaimed as she turned with a smile. "Don't mind me. I was just thinking of my mother after we had spoke of her earlier. She used to sing to me and Leean really likes it. Even more so when you do it."

"I am so sorry Lola. I never meant to upset you. I...I miss my mother too. Well, the one I used to know as a child wearing rose colored glasses. Lola, I don't mean to change the subject but...when we spoke of Narcisse earlier, you said there was a time when he was different? Could you elaborate a little more on that because...something is very wrong with him. It's like....it's like there are two of him."

"Yes, that is kind of how he was from what my mother told me. Not kind at all and he dressed much differently. Robes and such, mostly of a scarlet red. Longer hair, dark as coal and his scent was different as well...kind of like..."

"Pepper??" you abruptly interrupted.

"Y...yes? I believe so."

You paced about for a moment in deep thought, fidgeting with your own hand, for it was itching something awful, then you stopped to look at her.

"You're certain it was Narcisse and not a...twin? I know you said before that you did not believe him to have any other brother but Bash, but you were just a child. It's just that... he told me something once that is not adding up now."

"I suppose I cannot be certain. I never saw or knew the Narcisse my mother described and he..."

"He what?" you asked when Lola had paused in thought.

"Well, he...he went by some other name too, I...suppose there could be a twin? If so, he surely never speaks of him. There's only one other person that would most likely know. His brother...Bash."

"Was the name...Lord Rahl??"

"I...yes. Yes, that sounds right. I think it was?"

That is where you would head next, to Bash, for now you were worried that if there was an evil dark twin like Stephane had told you there was, was he the one you had just encountered?? Had he done something with the real Narcisse and taken his place?? Because Lola confirmed the scent of pepper and that is exactly what you smelled. Although Stephane told you that he killed Rahl, it was certainly possible he was brought back by Jareth. OR...were Narcisse and Rahl the same entity? Holy shit.

"Lola..I...I have to go. I..I will see you and Leean tonight for the dinner party and I want you both to stay at Legolas' side. I will find him and send him back here to get you."

As you turned to go refresh, Lola gasped.

"Josie?? Your hand...it's bleeding!"

You also gasped as your eyes gaped at the blood trickling down your fingers.

"Owww, god." you groaned as you quickly squeezed a cloth into your fist, then sat down, for you suddenly felt dizzy and overheated.

"What happened?" Lola asked as she promptly brought you a pitcher of healing water, then sat beside you to help clean the wound.

Not wanting to tell her the whole story just yet until you spoke to Bash, you decided to fib...just a little.

"I..uh...broke a mirror earlier and...cut my hand when I was cleaning it up."

Lola pried open your clenched fist and removed the cloth.

"Oh my. Josie, that's pretty deep and looks...possibly infected."

It did. The gash was slightly blackened around the edges and it burned, and strangely, even more so when Lola patted it with the water soaked cloth.

"Mmmmph." you flinched. "I'm sure it will be fine after I soak it for awhile."

"Maybe you should have the healers look at it? You...you seem a bit pale."

If only Thranduil were here, you thought as tears stung your eyes. He would heal you right up with one touch of his soft magical hand.

"I'm alright. The sight of blood has always made me feel queasy."

The dizziness seemed to have passed, so you took the pitcher into the wash room and filled the sink basin, then held your breath as you submersed your hand. Five seconds was all you could withstand before you had to abruptly withdraw.

"Jesus!" you cringed and then noticed a sizzling effect on the cut of both sight and sound.

"It's like it's fucking holy water. I should be asking YOU Narcisse or whomever you are, what YOU did to me??" you complained under your breath while you angrily wrapped and secured a clean dry cloth around your hand.

"Lola, if Leggy comes back while I'm gone, tell him I went to speak to Bash and that I will be back soon. We can all go to the dinner together. Keep this door locked until then. it is to only be opened for myself or Legolas. If Narcisse happens to show up, you tell him, through the door, that I am not here and that Leean is sleeping so he'll go away."

"Through...the door? Josie...what is going...."

You were out the door and rushing down the hall before she could finish. One way or another, you had to find out the truth because it now seemed that danger not only lurked outside of the castle walls, but still remained inside of them as well.

"Bash!" you loudly whispered against his chamber door as you briskly tapped upon it. "I need to speak to you again. It's urgent."

"It's open." he called to you.

Upon your swift entry, you found Sebastian leaning against the wall by the open balcony doors, looking as if he had seen a ghost. Had he?

"Bash?? Is something wro...."

You froze solid as you came into view of the dead blackbirds scattered about the terrace floor. Slowly, you walked past him with wide eyes to get a better look, praying one of them was not your Freddy, the ridiculous name Garrett had given your crow over his Scooby Doo fetish.

As you visually searched through the feathered carcasses, you soon sighed heavily in relief because they were all too small to be your faithful friend.

"Bash...w..what caused this??"

"Mayhem and death. Birds fall from the sky when evil witches like him are near."

"Him?? Are you speaking of Harker?"

You had only known Bash for merely 2 months, but in that short time, you could tell he was a warlock warrior who feared nothing, not even Harker who had almost killed him...but in that moment, he looked absolutely terrified. And he was, for he had all the answers you sought and although it was a secret to have never escaped his lips, Bash knew this time, he had to tell you and later face the consequences.

"No...my..brother."

"Narcisse...did this?"

"Rahl." he simply stated with a horrified stare into your eyes.

"So....Narcisse does have a twin." you whispered as you clutched your burning hand. "Bash...I...he told me he was dead but...I think this Rahl was one of the many Jareth has conjured back from the dead with that spell and I think he has done something with Stephane!!"

"Twin? There is no twin. My brother Stephane and Rahl are very much one and the same." Bash verified and then glanced at the dead birds. "The only difference is that everything Stephane is, Rahl is the opposite of."

You had to sit down. You knew this was a possibility, but to have it be validated was overwhelming. Stephane had what you would know as...D.I.D. Dissociative Identity Disorder, otherwise known as a split personality or an alter...but who was the true identity? At least now you knew Stephane wasn't being held captive somewhere...or dead.

"So...he...he lied to me..."

"Wouldn't you? Lie about it? It's not something he is proud of, nor did he want it. Rahl has done evil things, like Harker and Jareth. Some he recalls, some he does not and Stephane is ashamed and certainly would not want you of all people to know, in fear of what you would think of him. My brother was never perfect. He had his own bad side when he was crossed. You've seen it. He punishes the evil, but he is not a cold blooded killer like Rahl."

"I...I suppose I understand that, for I was able to talk him out of doing some horrible things and I don't feel I would have succeeded if he did not have goodness in him. I..I'm just trying to process all of this. Referring to one body by two different names. I know it's a real thing, I just have never encountered it."

"Rahl is his second given name, after our father. Our father, who I believed caused the split by making him do despicable things as an adolescent. Stephane wanted to be good...of light. Not dark like our father, but our father expected more from him, being the oldest and he placed a very heavy weight on him to follow in his footsteps and that's exactly what Rahl did."

"He...he told me Rahl had your father killed, by that man Stephane fought and killed in the gambling tournament to the death."

"Yes, but it didn't quite go as planned. That man, Theodore, was his good friend whom he met because of Catherine. He was her husband, King Henry's brother. Rahl tricked Theodore by morphing into Stephane's image and offered him a very large sum of money to kill our father. He was full of greed just like Theo, so he knew he could get him to do it and not have to get his own hands dirty, possibly due to his subconscious, which I think was Stephane trying to fight him. But that quickly changed. Before Theo arrived that night, an argument revealed the our father had killed our mother and despite his blackened heart, Rahl loved our mother, so he killed our father first. Stephane didn't remember it right away. I think the trauma caused the memory lapse and when he did recall the events years later, that's when he set out to kill Theodore and end Rahl himself. As I said, our father did terrible things and made him do the same, but to Stephane, he was still our father whom he did everything to please....and he hated himself for what he had done, although sometimes I wonder if Stephane possibly wanted our father dead too. It would be a lie if I said I did not have similar feelings. I still stood by my brother though, because I knew of the things our father made him do. I tried to help him but I could never get through to him. There was nothing I could do. Rahl was too strong and powerful, even more so than Stephane. I never blamed Stephane for the things he had done. It wasn't his fault. I believed his hand was forced and his mind was ill."

"And he did all this for the crown? Stephane said his father didn't want Rahl to have it."

"He did at one time, but that was before he noticed the new change in him, the good side, the real Stephane, the one before our father's dark influence consumed him at a young age, altering his mind and that's when things went sour. Two others knew about his condition. One being your father Julian who tried to help him. That book you seek, the one Julian has hidden, it has the spell to lock the alter away in his mind and it also has the power to release him. Your father banished Rahl before he hid the book away to keep it out of Jareth's and other evil one's hands....including your mother's....because your mother, Caroline, who was the other with the knowledge of my brother's illness...she's the reason our father was killed."

"Wait...w..wh..what????"

"When Julian took Ashmole from his mother Jadis to undo Jareth's death, Caroline got her hands on it temporarily. When your father unknowingly slept with her twin Carrie, she punished all who knew and kept it from her and that included my brother. She brought the darkness of Rahl out of Stephane to a diabolical head... in a way no one had ever seen and hence, Darken Rahl was born. More wicked than our father could perceive. More wicked than he. Our father believed he would destroy all he had built and he denied him his right to the throne, so Rahl chose to take it, which is why Stephane has never called himself a King. In Rahl's short years of reign, even then he strangely was addressed as Lord Rahl, for again, I believe Stephane was somewhere inside of him, very much aware."

"God...my mother, even dead, still destroys people's lives. I've always known there are many things I don't know about that she's done and I'm sure this is only a fraction of it and...."

It just hit you. Something that you should have realized long before.

"Oh dear god Bash."

He tilted his head and stepped towards you with questioning furrowed brows.

"My lady?"

"My mother! What if Jareth....could he have brought her back as well?? And could she have awoken Rahl again?? She wouldn't need the book, for I am certain she would remember the spell...or...or did Jareth wake him up???"

"I suppose either or both are possible, but I hope for your sake, your mother was not one of the resurrected. I have never met her but her wicked reputation certainly precedes her in all of middle earth."

"Damn it. Why did my father have to go back for those pages?? Harker would never have gotten his hands on them if it weren't for that and my father would not have been converted to darkness. So now, what do we do about all of this without the book?? Because if you know about Rahl, then surely you must know about his animal form, the fucking gigantic jaguar I encountered earlier."

"You saw that?? That means....he is closer to surfacing than I realized."

"I not only saw it, I was scratched and it burns like hell. I tried the healing water, but it intensified the burn." you explained as you held your bandaged and trembling hand out.

Bash tried to hide his growing concern as he took your hand to look it over, but the light tremors in his fingers told on him.

"The water won't help it. It's like adding fuel to the fire. His claws are poisonous and his bite is venomous, both like no other. As I said, Rahl and Stephane are opposites even if they share the same body. Rahl propels poison, Stephane repels it. The Rahl that Stephane created is not the Rahl your mother conjured in the past and the one brought forth now will only be 3 times worse. It's like a pain scale of mild, moderate and severe."

"Third time is definitely not a charm. So what is it going to do to me?? And how do I get rid of it...and is that even possible?? Stephane, he repels poison yes, well, except mine for some reason, possibly because it was not him I cast the silverbane upon??...and his peppermint scent...it heals poison. He healed me from the dark forest and from wolfbane, so can he not heal me??"

"The question is...will he? Unless you can get Stephane to resurface, there is not much time before you will suffer vivid hallucinations and pain, and your powers will be completely useless. You will also be at Rahl's mercy. You will need Delphine, a witch doctor, for she has the only known antidote. She resides near the city. After the party tonight, I will go and try to locate her. She doesn't trust anyone but me."

"Stephane...he...he was still himself...right after he shifted back and realized what happened and what he had done. He was extremely worried for me...but then...his personality quickly began to change and when I last saw him, well...he was definitely not himself."

"The rapid change...It's because of the shift. After the cat appears, he is all Darken Rahl."

"It's my fault. I...I accidentally brought the beast out by shocking him...god...I need Garrett!! He can heal me, I know it. BUT...he is off doing who knows what with his former mate that Jareth revived. Bash, you must be very careful. Her shock is far worse than mine and let's not forget Harker and what he has already done to you. And I know Aragorn, Bard and Gimli went looking for Haldir, but please, if you see him, tell him I'm so sorry and that I miss him."

"I will...Josie...It's not your fault. You couldn't have possibly known. I will find Delphine and I will even be on the lookout for Garrett and the newly remodeled Kate. I will tell him you need him. I do not fear her nor Harker. Stay close to Legolas this evening and I will keep my eye on my brother. You should go now, before he finds you in here again."

After you left, you went back to your room to find a note from Lola on the vanity stating she, Legolas and Leean went to the dining hall to wait for you and that Boromir was anxious to speak with you. You had forgotten all about him and that he had come all the way there to inform you of something quite urgent, almost dying in the process.

You then went to the dresser to find some lace gloves to conceal your hand and as you did so, you caught your reflection in the mirror. Tears instantly formed at the mess you had become. Not on the outside, but the inside. It was a moment when you had felt more alone than you ever had.

You had to turn away, for you feared you would see Garrett again and you didn't need to be reminded, as if you'd ever forget, that he abandoned you and chose to be with a demon summoned from hell. All you had now were Leggy and Lola. All were gone, even Narcisse...even your letter to Thranduil that mysteriously vanished and you really wanted to read it again to feel close to him.

You sat on the bed, lost in the thought of your King, for he is all you truly wanted...and that's when the full blown tears came.

"Thranduil?? My love.." you squeaked. "I...I don't feel you anymore and I'm scared. I'm so scared and I'm lost and...I'm in trouble and I...I just need you...please...somehow, please come back to me...please my King, come ba...."

You loudly gasped and sprung to your feet and your heart paused and dove into your gut when you realized something else. Something horrifying, yet miraculous. Something even you wanted to do once.

Your words then came flooding out of you, choking away your air.

"Oh my god...could Jareth have done it?? Is...Thranduil alive too????"

@redeemer46

[swordgrace]

— 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𐬾

→ I do not allow any translations of my work. I also do not allow redistribution onto other platforms, even if they're credited. My only other account is my AO3, slothinsocks.

→ If you want to be notified of my scenarios, I am no longer doing taglists. They are a lot of work and most of the people who asked to be tagged rarely interact with my stories. I now have a new sideblog ( @ — ) which will have updates and act as an archive for all of my works.

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[ereami0]

I'm starting to become obsessed with feeling like royalty and pov royal stuff 🙂

SAMEEE 🗣

in the past few days I've been reading a lot of fanfics and things revolving around that vibe 🕯☕.

( + i feel like Erehisu is the most ship that fits that vibes, like the whole knight and princess thing ✨)

Also I'm listening to some medieval fantasy music and I'm really into it 🩰🎻.

[soubi122]

Sweet Dreams - PT 3 End

It took me forever to finish this and I apologize, I had to scrap and redo this story line so many times because I wasn't happy with it. Finally, I'm happy with it.

Happy Halloween my loves! I hope you enjoy.

Mini series featuring our OG Tenjiku men. All characters are aged up. Our Tenjiku men are...INCUBI!

NO MINORS - MDNI!

Warnings: smut, m!oral, fingering, unprotected sex, thigh riding, monster fucking (kind of....maybe...), slight angst at the end, death. Sorry if I missed anything!

PT 1, PT 2

Dinner Is Served

You were scrambling around the grocery store trying to look for something to put together for dinner tonight. Izana asked you to surprise him, so there really wasn’t any indication of what he wanted to eat. While standing in the aisle, you were scrolling down a list of recipes. A large hand was placed over your shoulder and you squeaked in surprise almost dropping your phone. Spinning around to face a tall figure, you see Mucho behind you. His large frame and threatening presence would have anyone else quivering but you relaxed and smiled at him. “Ready for tonight?” His smirk was poking fun at you, you looked flustered - he saw a distracted female figure when he was passing by the aisle. He knew it was you by your scent - it was imprinted on him. 

“I um-no.” You sigh in defeat as your shoulders hung low. It was hard, you wanted to make something delicious, you wanted him to like your cooking, you wanted him to be satisfied and not force himself to eat something he doesn’t like. “Help me.” You say in almost a plea, you clung on to his arm - he was thrown off by your sudden actions. He had to make sure that he didn’t accidently lure you. Nope, it was all you. “What the hell are you doing?” Another voice questioned you two from down the aisle. It was Mochizuki - he was concerned that Izana might pop out of nowhere and see this little private moment. You turned to look at him and ran to cling on to his arm as well while dragging Mucho behind you. “Help me Mochi, please!” It was the funniest thing to see a tiny little thing haul two of the tallest Tenjiku members around like they were ragdolls. “I don’t know what to make for him tonight, what does he like? What does he eat? IS there something I need to steer clear from?” You were going on and on with questions that you hardly notice Shion now in the mix. Well, that is until you felt a hand on your lower back. Now you had three men being dragged around with you at the grocery store. They ended up carrying your groceries and accompanying you back home. 

You thanked them and promised them a dinner or favor in return for their help today. The coy smirks on their faces hinted at taking you up on that favor. 

You began prepping and decided to take a risk - it was something foreign and yet it was a comfort food that reminded you of a trip abroad. By 18:30, Izana was already at your doorstep and proceeded to ring the doorbell. “Coming!” He could hear you yell from the other side of the door. When you opened the door, you were taken back by the small bouquet of flowers that he held in his hands. “Couldn’t come empty handed…” He said with a playful tone on his tongue. They were beautiful, red azaleas (rhododendrons) - their color stood out against the black button up he was wearing and oldly matched his earrings. “Thank you, they are gorgeous.” You said and smiled, he could almost see the hearts in your eyes when you took them. It made him chuckle, some women really do like the simpler things in life - all his past playthings usually looked disappointed to receive flowers, they wanted extravagant gifts. After stepping inside, you set the flowers in a glass vase with water and guided him to the kitchen. 

“I hope you don’t mind eating something rather light for tonight.” You say while setting the table. Izana’s eyes trailed up and down your figure as you walked back and forth between the kitchen and the table. The midi skirt and button up blouse made you look so innocent, a stark difference to how you are in your dreams. “Need help?” His voice was almost in your ear and made you gasp. He was leaning over you to take a look inside the pan and smiled when you looked up at him. Those cute little doe eyes of yours were making it hard for him to keep his composure. How could you stay so calm around them? Was it that you were already used to their presence? “Sure, wanna get the drinks? I have wine, water and soft drinks.” Oh you just sealed your fate, he opted for wine and he knew just which bottle to grab when he opened your cabinet. The bottle of Barrel X Riesling paired well with tonight’s dinner. 

Finally, it was time to eat. Izana had already poured the wine and took a seat at the table, he smirked at you when you set his plate down - you were in for it. There was a slight nervousness that bubbled up, you were confident of your cooking skills but cooking for someone else was rare. “I hope you’re ok with it, please let me know if you don’t and I can try making something else or we can go out for dinner instead-” He cut you off with a chuckle, “This is fine, I’m sure it will taste great.” You were waiting for him to take the first bite, you wanted to see his facial expression - would he like it? It was as if everything was going in slow motion, your eyes were focused on his lips. The moment his mouth wrapped around the utensil you braced yourself for impact. There was almost a glow in his eyes, he took a second bite and then a third. Izana was eating your food.

“Where did you learn to cook like this? It tastes amazing.” He says with a cheeky smile. The stress melted away, you were glad he liked it. “I watched a lot of cooking shows as a kid and fell in love with food - please try it with the wine.” You suggested and began to eat. Small conversations about work and life made their way to the table. Things were going smoothly, well that is until you felt the warmth of the wine creeping up your cheeks. After dinner, you began to set the plates in the sink and Izana offered to wash the dishes for you but you refused - that’s why you have a dishwasher. Leaving them in the sink was just to avoid spending time arranging the dishes, you wanted to spend time with him. 

Throughout the night there were subtle hints, you both took a seat on the couch while sipping on the rest of the wine. For some background noise, you turned on the TV and just let it run on a random channel. Curiosity began to gnaw at you, his scent was intoxicating and made you feel rather lightheaded. “So, how do you like living in this cozy little neighborhood?” You ask while taking a sip. Izana smiled and leaned back into the couch. “I like it, it's nice, not too far from public transportation, I have a really amazing neighbor…” Wait, what? Was he referring to the woman who was all over their place when they first moved in? There is a woman on the opposite side of Izana's place that loves to…well, be more than just a neighbor. You don't blame her, the men next door are handsome, it's not like they are yours. “Ah, are you referring to the lady in 311?” You ask, there was a tinge of disappointment on your tongue. He chuckled. “Yeah, she's nice.” Oof, did that sound rather sarcastic? 

“You idiot, I’m talking about you.” Izana said and leaned in close to you. The sudden action made your heart pound. “(Y/N), I don’t know what you are but you…draw us in.” He said and cupped your cheek. There was a glow in his eyes that made warmth pool between your legs. His breath fanned your lips and the light scent of alcohol made you slowly lean in. Both of you had shaky breathing, the anticipation was killing you both - as your lashes fluttered and your eyes closed…

“Breaking news this evening! Two women’s bodies were found in an abandoned building. Police say that this is a growing problem in the area of Yokohama.” The sound of the TV caught your attention, making you pull away from Izana. Fuck, he was so close! “(Y/N)...” He said and tried to catch your attention. “Did you hear that? I think this is the fourth body this week.” You say and raise the volume. Damn, did you just…ignore his lure? “The women have been identified as (x female) and (y female).” The announcement made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. However, Izana looked just as concerned as you did. Something wasn’t right. “Oh my god.” You say and clasp your hands over your face. Izana turned to look at you, the look of pure shock and fear plagued your beautiful features. 

They were women that worked in the same office building as you. “(Y/N)...did you know them?” Izana asks carefully. Turning to look at him, the look in his eyes was sincere with a glint of concern. You shook your head, they were only people you would say good morning to when you caught the elevator together. “No, but they worked in the same building as me. I would see them every day...how awful.” As the news broadcast continued, they revealed that they were last seen with two men. The description was vague but something didn’t sit right. Something…something just sounded a little too familiar. Trying to ease your mind Izana lowered the volume and cupped your hands in his. Bringing them up to his lips, he kissed them and spoke softly. “If you want, one of us can meet you at the station or even at work.” He was being genuine, the increasing amount of violence in the downtown areas were concerning, not even Tenjiku could control the outer borders despite their size and strength. New gangs were beginning to pop up to try and take over Yokohama and the Shibuya areas. Though he could give two shits about Shibuya or Shinjuku - it would eventually become an issue for Yokohama if those gangs bleed on Tenjiku turf. 

For a moment you felt your heart skip, Izana just made you realize that he kissed your hands and was oh so close. Blush dusted your face and heat began to spread through your body. Looking up to meet his eyes, you felt it… That uncontrollable desire to lean in and close the distance. His lips curved into a smile, his eyes seemed to drown you in anticipation and his touch felt like fire. “I won’t let anyone hurt you…” He whispered and slowly closed the distance between your faces. The closer he got, the more warmth pooled in places that yearned to be touched. Izana’s orbs seemed to glow the more you looked into his eyes. You hardly noticed his hands caressing your cheek, it only became apparent when he pulled you in to place a kiss on your plush lips. He tasted like sweet wine and sin. 

His kiss felt like electricity, the single spark lured you like a moth to a flame. Izana nibbled on your bottom lip, he wanted for you to give him permission to taste you. With a soft moan, you parted your lips and granted him access. Even though he’s kissed you in your dreams, it didn’t feel the same as it did now - this was truly heaven. Soft moans bled through the passionate kisses, you could barely breathe. His arms were snaking their way around your body and left trails of fire. 

Trying to speak between kisses you end up moaning for him. “Izana… Mhn…” His tongue kept overwhelming yours - he was giving you goosebumps. Your hands made haste and quickly undid the buttons of his shirt. He was just too hard to resist right now. What am I doing? I can't stop myself. You think to yourself as you run your hands along his chest. He was toned and the moment you lowered yourself to place kisses on his chest you were hit with his scent. It was like a neurotoxin that kept altering your train of thought. That rich grapefruit, tuberose and cedarwood had you under a spell. “(y/n), if we go any further… you might not live to see tomorrow.” Izana's tone was heavy as he pants and cups your face, tilting your head upwards to meet his eyes. The only things reflected in your orbs were lust, hunger and just a tinge of fear. The fear stemmed not from what he said but from what you're feeling. You’ve never felt like this before, you wanted him… Bad. 

“Izana… I want you.” You manage to say while dipping your hands south to his zipper. The glow in his eyes seemed to get brighter as you unzipped his pants and reached for his member. His breath hitches at the warmth of your hands, his member was twitching and throbbing as you gaze upon it. Hungry eyes were devouring every vein, every inch and every drop of precum that leaked from his tip. It's as if you were hypnotized, the hearts in your eyes only grew bigger as your hand stroked him and his essence dripped down his slit. It was heavy in your hands, everything that a girl could ask for - length, girth, a red flushed tip. Without even asking him, your tongue took one long and slow swipe from the base of his cock to the very tip. Tasting him and basking at the sweetness that coated your tongue you moaned softly, Izana didn't want you to stop. “Oh fuck, (y/n)...” He moaned out your name and lightly bucked his hips. Who would have known that the sweet and shy girl next door was a minx? 

The moment you took his length in your mouth he threw his head back in pleasure. You could feel your panties sticking to your folds. Without warning you took him deeper into your mouth, his tip was hitting the back of your throat and he let out the sweetest moan. You had no control of yourself, the intoxication was beyond your understating - desire kept burning the threads of self-control. To be honest, if someone were to walk in on you two now - it would look like you were holding him hostage. 

Izana’s hand ran through your hair, stopping at the base of your neck and gripped it. His moans were getting louder as you bobbed your head, tasting him nice and slow. “Ngh…such a good girl…” He barely manages to say when you swirl your tongue over his tip. His chest heaved and his heart was pounding nonstop, the love and attention you were giving his cock was making him fall in love. Who would have known that you were hiding such…talents. As you gazed up at him, you could see his eyes were at half mast, glossy and filled with lust. 

Stroking his member as you sucked had his thighs quivering. He’s always been the one to break the other person but here he was on the verge of making you swallow his seed. Locking eyes with him only made you go faster, his gorgeous expressions and reactions made you almost melt. Silver strands were sticking to his face and his hips were beginning to thrust into you. There was just no way to stop yourself, Izana just tasted so good and you had no intention of stopping just here. “Ahn…fuck.” Izana moans out loud as he feels your tongue massaging his length. His stomach would flex each time you hit a sensitive spot and you wanted to see him finish. You needed him to finish in your mouth, to feed you everything he’s got. 

Each time his tip hit the back of your throat, you’d moan and clench instinctively. Izana’s lewd whimpers were making fire in your belly. To see him in this state was priceless. Those beautiful long white lashes were fluttering, his eyes were glossy, his lips parted - he looked so gorgeous that you thought it was all a dream. “Just like that (Y/N), just like that…oh fuck” He moans, you could feel the rumbling in his chest when your hand kept him pinned down on the couch. Picking up the pace, you hollow your cheeks and stroke him - adding more pleasure to his already sensitive cock. The vibrations from your moans had Izana lightly bucking his hips, he wanted you to devour him whole. For once a human was making him see stars. 

“(Y/N)...I’m gonna cum…” Izana says while pulling you impossibly close to him. He threw his head back and his vision went white as his coil snapped and feral moans were escaping his pretty lips while his essence was going down your throat. Never have you tasted anyone so sweet. There was so much that his cum was dripping down the corners of your mouth. Thick white ropes dripped down your chin to the floor. After draining him, he released you and his member came out of your mouth with a ‘pop’. Licking your lips, you indulged in his taste - he was addicting. 

His chest was heaving as he was coming down from his high. You remained on your knees waiting for him like a good girl to be given praise or instructions on what to do next. Izana slowly opened his eyes, he was in a daze. Without a second thought, he pulled up off the floor and sat you on his lap. “I warned you…” He said in a low and heavy tone. He was making you puddy in his hands. His hands slipped under your skirt and in between your thighs. Izana could feel lace and oh how the slick dripped down his knuckles when he thrusted two fingers inside you. All this excitement from just giving him head? He loved it, you were different from other women, you were burning with desire. Your hands wrapped themselves around his neck and your lips crashed into his. The kiss was hungry and rough, biting his lip only made him thrust quicker and deeper. Beads of sweat were rolling down the sides of your faces, the heat created in this space fogged up the windows and the room was thick with sin. 

A jolt of pleasure was felt when he pressed his palm against your clit. The sweetest moan escaped your throat. “You wanna cum, my little dove?” Izana’s tone was low and coy, he was sending shivers down your spine and making your thighs quiver. With a shameless nod you proceeded to grind your hips into his palm. His left arm pulled you closer and held you in place so that you couldn’t move your hips. You tried to move your hips but he did not budge, making you whimper and pout. “Answer me, (Y/N).” His menacing tone and piercing eyes made a knot in your stomach, you were about to cum just from hearing him talk to you like this. “Y-Yes! I want to cum!” You answer him pathetically and whine. Desperation was clawing at you, you needed release, you needed to satisfy the urge…you needed him. 

Izana withdrew his fingers from your dripping cunt and popped them into your mouth. “Suck…” He demands and tears begin to line your waterline, you looked upset - you wanted his fingers inside you. When you proceeded to clean his digits, he forced your hips down onto his thigh. That glow in his eyes returned and he began to move your hips, grinding your heat against his thigh. “What’s wrong, love? You wanted my fingers to make you cum?” He says teasingly and smirks at you. Izana’s demeanor changed, he was being cruel but you couldn’t help but savor it. You hum in response, a subtle yes. “Or maybe… you wanted something more?” He teases you. Quickening the pace of your hips, your eyes gloss over and drool begins to drip down your chin. He chuckles coyly and drinks in your expressions, you were caught between no - out of shame and yes out of desire. 

Riding his thigh, you could feel your coil tighten and knots in your stomach - you were desperate. The hand that was on your hips moved north to your chest and popped the buttons of your blouse. To see the lacey bra you had on gave him an idea that you were looking forward to this more than he was. “Aww, for me? You shouldn’t have.” His brazen tone had stars forming in your vision. When he pulled the cup down, he toyed with the pebbled nub and licked his lips. Barely being able to keep it together, your hips couldn’t stop - he felt the slick seep through the cloth. Just a little more and you’d make a mess all over him. “Tell me… are these the types of dreams you’ve been having with them? Hmm?” Oh he hit the nail on the head. These were in fact the types of dreams you’ve been having with each Tenjiku member. Whether it was the Haitani Brothers, Shion, Mucho, Mochi or Kakucho - your body craved their touch. Some dreams were innocent with kisses and light groping - others were a little more illicit. However, the thing was that to you they were innocent wet dreams. For them, it was as real as the sun and moon. 

Your blush deepened. The moment you were to shake your head no, Izana stuck his fingers further down your throat, making you gag around them. “No? You haven’t been having wet dreams about us?” He was humiliating you and putting you on the spot. The tears streaming down your face only further lit the fire inside him. The arm that pulled the lace cup down, returned to its original position and wrapped itself around your waist. Pushing you down harder against his thigh, he shifted a little on the couch - raising his knee. It’s at that moment that you felt a jolt of electricity. He leaned in to kiss your chest and traced his tongue around your nipple, the cool air gave you goosebumps. When he began to suck and lightly bite down, your vision went white and your moans got louder and louder, they were almost screams of pure bliss and pleasure. Izana had you cumming like never before, your body felt ecstasy for the first time. 

His whole thigh was soaked in your juices. Your body slowed it pace and then stopped, Izana had to help steady you - you were so close to collapsing. The pounding in your chest was so loud that you couldn’t hear him, his muffled voice slowly got louder and louder. “(Y/N)?” You could barely respond to him, he noticed how dazed you were and nuzzled his face into your chest to listen to the sound of your heart beating. “We should stop…” He pouted and held you close. Knowing that he could end your life if he keeps going, Izana decided it was best not to go any further. As much as he wanted to feel your tight cunt clench around his length, he didn’t wanna hurt you and wanted to keep seeing you. 

Weakly pouting, you beg him to fuck you. You beg him to put his length inside you. "N-no! Please, Izana…." You almost cry pathetically for him. What was wrong with you? You've never felt so needy for someone before, you were desperate for him and hearing him say those words made your chest hurt. The fire in your eyes only made it harder to resist the urge, Izana had to fight himself just to stand his ground. "We can't…" His whisper ended up pushing you to the edge. You cupped his chin and leaned in to place an ardent kiss on his lips. It was slow, sensual and full of desire. "Take me…" You say between kisses and move hips over him - you were no longer straddling his thigh. Feeling his member harden between your folds sent a shiver down your spine. The slow grind of your hips had his member  throbbing, it needed attention now too. 

Izana couldn't fight it anymore. He picked you up and took you to your bedroom, through the darkness he navigated your home as if he’s been here before. The moment he laid you down, he backed away into the darkness to close the door while removing his clothes. He looked like an angel, the moonlight from outside made his white hair stand out. When he was out of the light, you began to remove your clothing, excitement clinged on your every fiber. "I will miss you, (Y/N)... You're the one I didn't want to kill…" Being spellbound was no joke, you were too dazed to even comprehend what he said. As he emerges from the dark and into the moonlight, curved horns, fangs and wings now adorned his body. This was a first, showing his true form to you, even in dreams they remained in human form so that you wouldn’t fear them. However it only made you crave him even more. Izana crawls on top of you and hovers over you, he leans in, letting you gaze upon him, he was indeed still as beautiful as ever. "Are you afraid?" He asked and nuzzled his nose into your cheek. There was a small sense of dread inside him, he didn't want you to fear him, he wanted you to love him in his true form. 

Caressing his face, your hands slowly make their way up to touch his horns, Izana flinches and closes his eyes in fear. Their texture was a little rough, you’ve never in your wildest dreams thought that fairytales and folklore like this would be true. Then it hit you. Your internet search for an explanation of the bruise like spots on your body came up with Incubi as one of the reasons. Your giggle made him open his eyes, the look on your face wasn’t of fear it was euphoric. The smile on your face confused him, did he break you or was this a moment before tragedy? “This explains the bruises on my skin when you first moved in.” Relief washed over him, this wasn’t the reaction he was expecting but he welcomed it. “Izana…you're beautiful.” Your confession made his heart skip a beat - for the first time in his life, he was called beautiful in his true form. “Are the others also…” You ask shyly. He hums a yes and begins to kiss your neck, his length would twitch and throb between your legs with each open mouthed kiss. There was no hesitation, no fear - only love and desire.

The moment his tip prodded your entrance, you felt the air snatched from your lungs, he was a lot to take in. “Ah…too big…” You whimper and clench the sheets. His hands searched for yours and he laced his fingers with yours, pinning them above you. Instinctively, your legs wrapped themselves around his waist and you braced yourself. “You can take me, right (Y/N)?” He says and hovers his face just above yours, those violet eyes were eating up your vulnerable expression. He knew he was going to put you in a word of pain with his next move. Izana reeled his hips back and thrusted his entire length inside your velvet walls. The immense pressure had tears welling in your eyes and you let out a loud moan. Trying to adjust to him was hard, he filled up your pretty cunt to the brim, you could feel the vein on his length and how it pulsed. Your walls clenched around him, wanting to spit him out but oh how it loved his cock bullying its way in. 

His right hand brought your wrists together and kept them pinned down while his left hand snaked its way down your waist and hips. He was going to keep your hips in place as he thrusted slow and hard. “Come on my little dove, you can handle it - it’s what you wanted, yeah?” Izana’s sultry tone had your mind muddled with sweet sin and pain. A string of curses escapes your lips as you moan and bite your lip, trying to hold in the scream that was building up - fuck he was making your legs shake already. Nothing could have prepared you for the wave of pleasure that was setting in. When you pouted and lifted your head to ask for a kiss, he smirked and pulled away, “Answer me, (Y/N).” Your needy whimper and shaky ‘yes’ made him smirk and he crashed his lips on yours. Your spine was tingling and your chest was filled with warmth, his affectionate kiss and movements were an express ticket to heaven. 

While distracted by the taste of his lips, you didn’t notice how his palm was now touching your lower abdomen. Well, that is until he pressed on it and you felt it, his cock was so deep that it was making belly bulge - you could hear him chuckle. When he pulled away so that you could catch your breath, he released your wrists and sat up on his knees. Izana looked like a prince - no, a king - who were you kidding? He looked like a fucking god. Being in such a heavy daze, you barely managed to hear him tell you to look down. Leaning up on your elbows, you take in the view and moonlight cascaded perfectly on your bodies. You could see his cock move in and out and how it created a belly bulge worthy of envy. 

Your eyes widened and he could tell it excited you, your cunt clenched around him the moment your eyes landed on your lower belly. Drool started to slip from the corner of your mouth, he was fucking you stupid and your body couldn’t handle it. Seeing you all fucked out, he couldn’t help but pick up his pace. He wanted to see you break. Izana’s rough pace, had you throwing your head back in ecstasy and bliss - you were no longer able to control it. Your moans grew louder and your chest was heaving, you were struggling to breathe. It felt as if the energy was being drained from you. “I-Izana! I’m gonna cum…oh god.” You moan and pant. The next thing you knew his lips were on yours, he was devouring you - he too became a moaning mess. You caressed his face and brought him in closer. “I’m gonna miss you my little dove…” He says between kisses and ferally grunts, his release as close. 

The unmistakable sensation ran down your spine and your vision went white. Your hands released him and gripped the bedsheets, you needed something, anything to hold on to. His hips stuttered as he painted your walls white. Both of you were left breathless and in a daze, your breathing slowed and he felt tears prick his eyes when he came down from his high. Your body stopped moving and felt limp. “...fuck.” Izana said as he pulled out and struggled to look up at you. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He said and rested his head into your chest and listened to the last beats of your heart. Izana realized that he had tears streaming down his face, this was a first - he’s never heard of any other incubi shedding tears after a meal. Slowly, he raised his head and looked at your lifeless body. It just looked like you were peacefully sleeping but he knew full well that you were gone. Even in death you remained beautiful. He brushed the hair away from your face and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight my love…” Izana says and leaves - he had to prepare his alibi and get the rest of Tenjiku to help him wash away all evidence that he was here. Nothing could prepare them for the aftermath of your death. 

END

Tags: @reiners-milkbiddies @anxious-chick

[vanfleeter]

In collaboration with @losfacedevil, comes a fantasy fan fiction story full of royalty, magic, the elements and seasons, brother bonds and turmoil amongst it all..

A kingdom made of four seasons seems to be thriving.. for now. After one of the princes is crowned king of the Spring realm, one prince loses his life. The turmoil between two brothers grow immensely larger while the four seasons try to work together to repair what the kingdom once was.

Disclaimers:

Only for 18 years and older. Warnings: Strong language. War. Battle. Death. Sexual activities. Blood. Intense situations. Hand-to-hand combat. Weapons--you name it, it's most likely going to be in there. Specific warnings will precede each part. Readers are encouraged to proceed at their own discretion. And as always, we do not own Greta Van Fleet. Every thing is pure fiction, anything written does not reflect each member.

Photo credit to owner, (Broken Bells video that we were never given..sadly). Graphics made by myself.

To be added to the general tag list, please comment or reblog!

🏹⚔️

Part 1 - Sam

Part 2 - Josh

Part 3- Jake

Part 4 - Danny

Part 5 - Danny

Part 6 - Josh

Part 7 - Jake

Part 8 - Sam

[dove-caverne]

Chapter 5 is out! Sorry for the long wait! I will be on summer break in two weeks and things will be much less chaotic!

Read on link below: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/368301745-overgrown

[greenandsorrow]

Headcanons for Samwise and Rosie meeting for the first time

I giggled when I saw this. I hope you'll like what I came up with for our sweethearts! 💛

Rosie lived with her family on South Lane, in a farm near Bywater. Her family had always been close to the Gamgees.

Sam was the youngest son of Hamfast Gamgee. He was the gardener of Frodo Baggins.

Everyone knows everybody in a place like Hobbiton. Consequently, Sam and Rosie were familiar with each other's faces long before they exchanged even a simple "good morning".

But that fact didn't make their first encounter any less exciting and nerve wracking.

Sam had always been in pure admiration of Rose Cotton. Her extremely curly hair, her puffy dresses... and not to mention the cheerfulness that she emitted while dancing, during the occasional event in the Shire.

He had a huge crush on her and the teasing jokes coming from Merry and Pippin -sometimes even from Mr.Frodo- only fueled his feelings for the young lass.

Unbeknownst to Sam but simultaneously luckily for him, Rosie saw in him a hardworking gentlehobbit. She was always kinder and faster to serve him when he would visit the Green Dragon.

But even with all that in mind, they had never actually met on a personal level.

It happened on a bright spring morning.

Rosie was out to fetch some fresh fish from the market. Sam was on his way to Bilbo's hobbit hole.

Sam's palms began sweating the moment she came in his field of vision.

Rosie's cheeks took a bright pink shade when she laid her eyes on him. One of her hands immediately went to fix her hair a bit.

Sam stuttered a greeting that was thankfully returned.

Rosie knew that the young hobbit was shy, something she found truly adorable, so she decided to take the initiative to ask him about his plans for the day.

Sam took this chance to talk to her with great enthusiasm.

He didn't want to admit it, but he always got jealous when other male hobbits talked to her at her work. It would make him feel insecure about his lack of courage to be the one to court her.

Not to insinuate that this was the only reason which made Samwise be so interested in miss Cotton.

Rosie was so lively and she liked flowers... just like he did. She could be a great company, a sun ray to warm up the coldest days of winter. Maybe she was the whole sun, at least in his eyes.

Their small talk wasn't of any importance if you were to view it as an outsider. To them however, it meant the whole world.

They were able to give permission to refer to each other more casually.

Samwise became Sam and Rose became Rosie.

The gardener even mastered up the courage to tell her she dances very gracefully.

Her giggle had made his knees go wobbly.

She returned the compliment in the best way possible...

"I saw how beautiful your peonies have gotten Sam. The whole village is talking about them!"

The goodbye that inevitably followed was awkward, but still sweet. Caution, shyness and eagerness all mixed together in a colourful haze.

A smile so wide it made their cheeks hurt was stuck with them for the rest of that day.

They just had to see each other again...

💛 tips are highly appreciated || masterlist

[bookish-rival]

Kiss under the gevran Mistletoe

Art by the amazing @gessueter and commissioned by the lovely @StardustSteph(Twitter) aka @leiaamidala

A short fanfic of Wren x Alarik from the books Twin Crowns, Cursed Crowns and Burning Crowns by Catherine Doyle & Katherine Webber

Pairing/Ship: Queen Wren Greenrock, King Alarik Felsing

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Rivals To Lovers, Fluff, Angst

Warning: Mention of characters death, cursing

Summary:

Queen Wren needed some fresh air during festivities held at Grinstad Palace, hosted by Royal Family of Gevra. While taking a stroll through the quiet hallways together, Wren and Alarik noticed a Mistletoe hanging above them. Wren is given a choice. To either kiss her mortal enemy (once again) or walk away, ignoring her growing feelings for him.

WARNING! This story takes place after the second book, so HUGE SPOILER ALERT FOR BOTH BOOKS!

———————————————————————————————————————

Hi!

This is my first EVER story I’ve written and posted here. The Twin Crowns series has captured my heart for some time now, and only after reading the second one did I start imagining my own stories for these characters.

The books are absolutely amazing! I cannot wait for the third and final book of this trilogy.

I therefore tried to come up with my own little scenario.

A few things in advance: This is my first fanfic I wrote and English is only my second language, so there might be a lot of mistake in there. I also used exact parts from the books to fill in the flashbacks, so if some parts sound familiar than that’s because it’s 100% copied from the books hahaha.

I also didn’t know how to set the scene and mood correctly, so it starts of with a fast summary of the books (so big spoilers) as it explains why Wren happened to be in Gevra once again. There’s a big jump into the story as the two were already walking together. I didn’t know how to start off, so if it feels a bit rushed I’m sorry.

Please show more support to the authors of this series and I hope that you will enjoy this little oneshot.

Have fun!

———————————————————————————————————————

The Christmas season is coming to a close and every year the royal family of Gevra holds a huge feast at Grinstad Palace to celebrate.

This year however, the Twin Queens of Eana, Rose Valhart and Wren Greenrock, as well as their best friend and strongest ally King Shen Lo of the Sunkissed Kingdom, have been invited as honorary guests by King Alarik Felsing of Gevra himself.

The cold hearted King of Beasts invited them after a long exchange of letters with the Queens.

Their last meeting included the second death of the King’s younger sibling, Prince Ansel.

After he died in Eana, Wren was forced to bring him back with forbidden blood magic which caused him to return as a living corpse more than a real resurrected human being.

After multiple attempts of warning King Alarik and his sister, Princess Anika Felsing, about the dangerous outcome, they later agreed on letting their brother rest in peace.

The Felsing siblings asked Wren to perform her healing magic to send Prince Ansel’s body in a peaceful slumber, but it didn’t work when she tried.

Later, her sister Queen Rose took on the task and gave the Prince the peace he wanted, and his family the peace they needed.

The exchange of letters with the Gevran King also involved a specific evil witch, that holds a dangerous threat to both their kingdoms. The festivities are a perfect chance to talk about forming an alliance to fight this threat together.

That’s why, even though the twin Queens feel a chill running down their spines just thinking about traveling to Gevra, they still accepted the invitation. Hoping to officially bury the hatchet with the icy realm and additionally, build an alliance between Gevra and Eana, as a gift to their people.

*End of Summary*

The King of Gevra, and the Queen of Eana left the noisy ballroom behind, as they walked through the hallways of Grinstad Palace.

Alarik suddenly stopped under a door arch, as he noticed something on the ceiling. He looked up amused.

“What’s so funny?” Wren said as she looked up suspiciously, trying to see what got the frost-hearted King’s attention.

At first she didn’t realize what she saw, but then she remembered the Gevran tradition, Princess Anika told her about. The so called ”Mistletoe”, saying two souls whom stand beneath one, will have to peck their lips or be cursed for life.

Wren mumbled swear words while nervously looking around if anyone can see them, hoping, even a tiny bit, that their privacy will be interrupted and her complicated flame of desire for the ice cold king wouldn’t develop and confuse her any further. Dammit. That’s exactly the reason, why she was avoiding private moments with him.

Suddenly, her head got clouded in the memory of the first and last kiss they shared.

The time they made out in the middle of her self made blizzard, outside of Grinstad Palace.

She remembers the moment Alarik smiled into the kiss, not being afraid of the witch in his arms or the blizzard at his back. Both trying to find release from their own grief, and finding it, in each others embrace.

She shock her head, trying to get rid of those memories before they overtake her actions.

Only after gazing back at the King’s face did she realize that she must’ve looked absolutely pathetic, looking around for people, turning all shades of red trying to distract from the mistletoe hovering above them.

“I am not kissing yo-“

“Too bad, it’s tradition.” King Alarik stepped foward, cutting her off. She immediately looked away trying to hide her red face.

Wren couldn’t take it, she was looking like a fool in this moment. Trying to get the upper hand in this, she took a stride towards him, facing him directly.

“Where’s your mother? I’d rather kiss her.”

A chuckle escaped his throat. “That’s very low. Even for-“

“A witch?” Wren crossed her arms.

“-you.” Alarik finished.

“Same thing.”

Another low chuckle. “You may be a witch, having your own kind of spells…”

Alarik glided even closer, making Wren tilt her head to look in his shining blue eyes.

“But……if you break a Gevran tradition, you’ll end up being cursed for life. Is that what you want?”

“….Are you blackmailing me right now?”

“Perhaps.”

“I feel honored, your Majesty.” Wren said while sarcastically curtsying to him.

“But with all my, none existing, respect for you… I will NOT be kissing you.”

A smirk came across her lips, thinking she finally turned the conservation around.

Alarik hummed in response.

”Oh don’t worry, your Highness…” His sarcasm mirrored her own.

”I never said anything about you having to kiss me.” He said while slowly decreasing the distance of their bodies, causing Wren to retreat backwards until her back hits the wall of the arch.

”W-What?” Wren hated how intimidated her voice sounded. Alarik was so close that she could feel his breath on her face.

”What made you think…” His right hand caressed her silvery strand of hair, until he reached her cheek. He wasn’t touching her cheek, his hand was just levitating beside her face. Wren could only feel a light touch, because her trembling would cause her face to slightly brush against his hand.

Her eyes darted to his left hand that had found itself gently placed on her waist, his thumb soothingly drawing circles over her skin, sending even more shivers up her spine.

”…that You will be the one initiating the kiss.” He whispers, almost afraid that someone will hear them, even though it was obvious that they were completely alone.

Wren’s eyes met his, immediately getting trapped in his gaze.

Once again the memory of their past kiss slipped itself into her mind.

She knew Alarik Felsing can kiss. His quiet ferocity to his passion, the way he held her tightly against him, how he angled her head to claim her mouth and the way she let him back then. The moment his lips seizing hers, the spark being ignited and them being consumed in its fire.

The Gevran King closed the distance further, pulling the Queen out of her thoughts. She slammed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the feeling of his soft lips against hers once again. Deep down feelings of uncertainty and guilt creeped up. But the touch of his lips never came.

She opened her eyes again, trying not to let any signs of disappointment from her gaze betray her feelings to him.

Alarik‘s eyes weren’t closed. They were mainly focused on hers, like he never closed them in the first place, making it seem like he never intended on kissing her at all.

Her confusion grew with every millisecond the King wasn’t moving.

The Gevran King, Alarik Felsing, was a powerful, selfish man. He could get everything he wanted, he could’ve captured her lips right then if he so desired and yet, here they were. Not kissing.

Just staring in each others eyes, as his hands continued to ghostly hold her waist and hair, not daring to capture her with more force. And additionally, Alarik didn’t show any interest of wanting to close the remaining distance. He did not move, and he was not going to move.

The Witch was held loosely in the embrace of the Icy King, free to step away from him and leave any building feelings for the King behind, or capture his lips herself, if she so desired.

Wren couldn’t believe it. Was he messing with her?

Was it all just a game? Finding the perfect time and spot to make her vulnerable and then mess with her? Slowly, but surely, the old feelings of anger and disappointment towards the cold-hearted King of beasts returned. Deep down Wren had a feeling that, sooner or later, Alarik would tease her about the heated kiss they shared in the past. It was obvious that he was gonna be the one who’d bring it up again. He enjoyed it, for some sick reason she doesn’t really wanna know.

But she didn’t enjoy it. She never wanted to kiss him. She hated him. They hated each other.

The blizzard of her confused feelings clouded her mind mind that day, she wasn’t thinking straight. The kiss was a mistake.

Her now furious eyes flickered at his gaze, trying to find some truth in his annoyingly shining blue pupils. Then, a sudden thought overtook her mind. The moment she threw herself at him in the heated moment, appeared before her.

It was snowing in the courtyard as they held each other, both screaming at each other, as Wren’s new magic created a snowstorm around them, pushing them closer, due to her emotions raging inside of her. Snowflakes landed all over their clothes, hair and a single one stopping on Alarik´s bottom lip.

“I hate you!“ Wren hissed. “I hate you more than anyone I’ve ever met!“

“And you think i care?“ Alarik sneered. “I hate you too.“

“Tyrant.“

“Brat.“ He shot back.

“Wretch.“

“Witch.“

“So what?!“ Wren’s gaze fell to that single snowflake on his lip.

Alarik held her face in his hands. Trying to hold her still and stop the blizzard going out of control around them.

“Wren.“ He said with a serious tone. “Stop. It.“

“Make. Me.“ And then, they were kissing.

Wren didn’t know why she licked the snowflake from his bottom lip. Or why he opened his mouth to seize the kiss. But it happened.

She initiated the kiss.

SHIT. She kissed him.

If not for that damn snowflake on his impeccable lips, it wouldn’t have happened. But it did. And now it was gonna happen again.

This time, however, she was thinking straight. She’s able to stop the kiss and the forming of any more complicated and uncertain feelings for the man infront of her. Guilt, grief, anger, frustration, disappointment. Those feelings were just a few snowflakes in the blizzard of suffering roaming inside her, at this time. Wren couldn’t stop the blizzard now, nor ever, she feared. But she is able to keep someone else from getting drawn into her storm.

She had to stop this. To protect herself, and him, from more complications between each other. To protect them both from another mistake.

“Too close…” Wren swallowed as she looked into his eyes.

She was sure that deep inside his gaze, was a spark of hurt and disappointment, before his eyes turned to an understanding look, as he slowly retreated his face from hers. Giving her space. When his hands left her body, she trembled from the lost feeling of his closeness.

This happened before.

She was broken. Too broken to see someone else’s feelings. Too broken to see her own feelings.

To see, to feel, what she really wanted, what she needed.

After failing to heal Prince Ansel a few months ago, she ran away, breaking down in her room. She couldn’t do to. She couldn’t heal the Prince’s soul and give him the peace he desired. Wren couldn’t. No matter how much she wanted to. And she did, want to. She wanted to fix her mistakes. By using forbidden magic, she poisoned her own soul.

She cursed herself. She was broken.

”You are not broken, Wren.”

Alarik’s voice reached her memory. She wasn’t alone with her grief, that day. There was someone else next to her.

It was Alarik. He ran after her that day. He saw her in her weakest moments. In her most pathetic moment. And yet, he had no intention of making fun of her.

“You are not broken.” Alarik said.

“Yes, I am! What the hell do you know?!”

“I know that if you can bring yourself to care about something beyond yourself, you are not broken.”

He raised his hand, curling a strand of her hair around his finger.

When he lifted it, Wren saw that it was bright silver.

“See how much you care, Wren.”

Alarik traced the single black strand in his summer wheat hair, which developed after his fathers death.

“My father once told me that to know grieve is to know love, and you cannot love something if you’re irretrievably broken.”

Back then she was staring at the King, trying to figure out where this version of him had come from, or if perhaps it had been there alll along, hiding beneath his icy facade.

“You once told me that love is a horrible business.” Countered Wren sobbing.

“It is.” said Alarik “But why does that have to change anything?”

Her shoulders sagged under the weight of the truth.

“I can’t fix Ansel, I can’t even fix myself.”

“You don’t need to be fixed. You just need time to heal.”

Wren closed her eyes, feeling his grief as her own.

He stepped back.

A small, wayward part of her wanted to reach for him, at that moment.

To curl herself in his embrace and distract herself from the crack in her heart.

“Go home. Find your healing witch.”

She’ll never forget his soft and fleeting smile. The way a moment of peace in a lifetime of war was given to her, by the man she called her enemy.

He stood back then, and the moment slipped away. He stood back now too.

”But…” Wren’s broken and timid voice reached Alarik in a second, as he once again searched for her eyes. She looked at him, her vision slowly decreasing as tears developed in her eyes.

Wren let the last moment to slip away. But she wasn’t gonna let this one slip away.

She grabbed his belt and pulling him closer, his nose inches away from crashing into her forehead. Her hands were trembling while holding onto the fabric of his shirt, almost turning white due to her fierce grip.

”But…” Her eyes slipped a little further down and land on his lips once again. “…not close enough.”

”Wren...” Alarik whispers, softly, before she pressed her lips against his. Immediately, he melted into her.

Different than their past lip debate, this was a different sensation. Sweet, not hasty or needy. Soft, tender, sincere. Things she never expected from the Gevran King.

This time, the kiss didn’t develop into a fierce battle of emotions, it stayed as a diligent touch, lingering long enough for both of them to adapt their breathing until their chests were heaving in synchronization. Alarik gently moved his right hand though her hair, while the one on her waist continued to massage her tender flesh. It made her lightheaded, forming an empty space in her mind with no room for doubt, grieve, or any other feeling other than….this.

Once again, it was the selfish and fierce King with an ice block as heart, that gave her even the tiniest bit of peace in the battle she was fighting, the one in her country and in herself. This second of vulnerability from both her, a witch queen, and the gevran king, made her feel at peace. Even if it didn’t hold long.

Her feelings were just as confusing and complicated as the man she was embracing. Alarik was a complicated man indeed. Last time she discovered new side of him, it that twisted her stomach. Wren didn’t like how it cast Alarik in a different light, not as a brutal king but as an ordinary young man. She didn’t want to think of him like that. Every time she spares a thought for him, good or bad, it gets intertwined with guilt. It would slowly start to eat her from the inside, until she couldn’t tell if it’s right or wrong. She didn’t want to feel too much, she didn’t want things to get mixed up and grow more complicated. After all, the only person who gets more insecure about their own indefinite feelings, is her.

Due to her thoughts, the young Queen unintentionally squirmed in his hold, which caught Alarik‘s attention. As if he could read her mind, and feel her building doubt, he slipped his tongue through her lips, surprising her so much, that a squeal and moan escaped her at the same time.

She broke away from his hold, trembling more with embarrassment than fury.

“You slipped a tongue in there, you fuckin-“

“Well, you were making weird noises so clearly you enjoyed that.” He joked, showing off his canines. She offendedly pushed him backwards, so her back wasn’t pressed against the cold stone wall anymore.

“This changes nothing. I still hate you.”

“Didn’t seem that way a second ago.”

“I-“

“You kissed me.“

“Shut up.”

“That was-“

“That never happened.“

“Wren, I don’t think this ego lift is ever going to fade.“

She attacked him with a punch. Like he saw it coming, Alarik caught her wrist and pulled her into his chest, holding her hand against his heart.

“Still hate me?”

“Definitely.”

“Just as much?”

“Hmm…maybe…” she reached her other hand infront of his face. Her fingers pressed strongly against each other, not leaving a gap between the tips. ”This…less.”

Alarik smirked, distancing himself once again as he lead her hand towards his face.

”I’ll take what I can get.” He pressed his lips to her hand. Wren silently gasped as the feeling of his lips left her skin.

”I need a drink.”

”What’s the magic word?” Alarik said, jokingly.

“Oh, yeah nevermind. I’ll get it myself.” She scooted past him, hearing a faint chuckle erupt from his mouth.

Together, they made their way back to the festivities, shoulders brushing softly with each step, as the sound of their footsteps, just like their feelings of distrust towards one another, slowly quiet down.

The End.

[foxintheferns]

WILD HEART - Chapter One Release!

a Twilight-Paul Lahote Fanfiction

***Short summary for my antsy gals: this bitch with childhood trauma, no real family and a passion for animals goes to live in the woods outside of La Push beach for her job, and guess who’s not happy she’s there because now they have to worry about this human who’s put herself smack in the middle of bloodsucker city, where they have an instinctual obligation to protect her. And guess who’s even more angry that he suddenly feels an undying and relentless, fiery need to be with her all the time? Angst, tension, passion, anger, love, jealousy, perhaps even some betrayal? This story’s got it all babes (yes, even the smut) - it’s just one of those slow burn, then-suddenly-everything-is-fuckin-crazy-and-the-angst-is-unreal fics, you know? stay tuned ;)

A/N: Finally starting my long-form Paul Lahote fic. Truly I am so JAZZED. I would love suggestions and comments as the story builds. Please enjoy the very first chapter! It’s a lot of character and setting development that’s much heavier than it will be in following chapters, so just bear with me 😫 I’ll be uploading pretty damn regularly, 2nd chapter will be up tonight!

CHAPTER ONE:

“All by yourself?”The grey haired, pinch-faced man tipped his face down to look at me incredulously from above his wire framed glasses, which drooped to the tip of his nose in response to the movement. His gravelly voice was muffled by the cloudy glass that separated his cubicle from the rest of the Forks Department of Motor Vehicles waiting room. The question was getting all too familiar to me, and it took more of my energy than it should to not roll my eyes at his curiosity, which was clearly laced with disapproval. I decided a soft smile, one that only I would know was almost painfully forced, seemed manageable.

“All by myself!” I responded curtly and with feigned enthusiasm. My eyes squinted as my cheeks were pushed up towards them by the effort of my smile. How many times did I have to have this conversation? Was it really that unheard of for a woman to live in the woods by herself? On second thought, maybe it was. But this was Washington! I expected my job title to be a bit more of the norm here. The man blinked at me, pursed his lips into a thin line, and shifted his sharp eyes back down to the work forms I had provided for him. He cleared his throat, tilting his head back again and holding the pages further from his face to peer down through the square lenses of his glasses at the top sheet. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked his middle fingertip, bringing it back down to the papers and flicking to the next page. I sighed and shifted my weight onto my other hip, trying to not tap my fingers against the linoleum countertop in my impatience. Maybe I was taking his words personally, but I felt his distaste for my plans radiating out from his cubicle, washing over me in judgmental waves. It made me itch to get the hell out of there. I didn’t need any more resistance, having already gone through hell to leave my life in Maine behind for the next year and a half. He hummed a low grumble and proceeded to put the papers down on his desk, bringing his hands over his keyboard and beginning to type. He paused, then, peering up at me again. “Sullivan, Harley? Date of birth October nine-, no, erm,” He squinted down at the computer screen, “eighteenth, that is… of 1999?” His voice was more practiced and formal now, establishing that he had clearly decided to give up on the interrogation and go through the motions of providing me my updated license, one that would state my new residence in Washington. I nodded with an affirming smile, and he went back to typing. After a minute or two of clicking, tapping and sighing, the older man, whose name tag pinned to his blue button down read ‘Tom’, proceeded to stand up with a small groan from his chair. He slowly paced over to the large printer in the corner of the small carpeted room, clicking several buttons on the side of the massive contraption. Moments later, he pulled a shiny rectangular card from the tray of the machine, lifted it up to the light to eye it carefully, then lumbered back to the window where I waited.

“Well, Harley, you’re all set,” he announced, placing my new license along with my work forms down on the counter through the small window under the glass, “I wish you luck, on your… well, whatever it is you’re doing. Stay safe out there, kid.”

I nodded, shooting him a final grin.

“Thanks.” I grabbed the license and papers out from under the glass divider panel and turned on my heel, heading out through the small gathering of chairs lining the waiting room, and opened the glass door. The frigid air hit the skin of my face in a less than gentle breeze, causing my eyes and nose to scrunch against the sensation. My hair whipped behind me and I gritted my teeth. Welcome to Washington, I supposed. I walked swiftly over to my car, noting how dirty the side was. Scoffing to myself, I wondered if I’d ever again have a clean car in this rainy, muddy state, and then questioned myself as to why I cared so much. My white 1987 Ford Bronco wasn’t exactly the flashiest car around, and to my surprise it fit right in the with the extensive collection of old classic vehicles that called Forks, Washington home. I opened the squeaky door and quickly threw myself onto the driver’s seat, slamming the door closed behind me. I exhaled loudly once I finally sat down, leaning my head back against the headrest. My trip to the Forks DMV didn’t take nearly as long as I’d thought it would, and I knew that was probably due to the ridiculously low population that the town had to its name. However, it wasn’t the last thing on my to-do list for the day. I opened my wallet, placing my new license into the clear display window pocket, and tossed it across the seat next to me. I put the car into first gear and pulled out of the parking lot, eager to get myself situated in my new home. Groceries, gas, firewood, I repeated to myself out loud, knowing that if I didn’t make a list - even a mental one, my obligations would be doomed. Despite my repetition of my to-dos, I almost drove right past the tiny gas station that was settled in next to an old diner. After filling the Bronco up with gas and then buying firewood in the tiny convenience store, I looked up the nearest grocery store on my GPS, and found that Forks Outfitters wasn’t more than five minutes down the road. There was something very satisfying about being in such a small town. I proceeded to spend far too much time and money in the grocery store, not sure if I was over or underestimating the amount of food I would need, and having no idea what I would want to cook for myself for the next few weeks. My new house was quite a bit off the beaten path, and I knew I wouldn’t want to be making the trip to the grocery store in Forks too frequently once I was settled in. With a trunk full of grocery bags and firewood, I slammed the Bronco’s back door with a tired sigh, and walked over to the driver door, opening it with a loud creak. Gonna have to grease those hinges again, I thought to myself with a loud sigh.

“Miss?” I heard a deep voice from behind me. I spun around, one hand still holding my door open, and my eyes met a kind and gentle face. A middle aged man, who sat in a wheelchair and had long black hair that flowed from under a cowboy hat, met my gaze across the small parking lot, a slight smile on his lips. His chair was stopped in front of the automatic doors, off to the left of the entrance, and his eyes were on me. I smiled back timidly and then noticed his right arm was outstretched, his fingers pointing down at the ground leading to my car. I followed his finger and saw the sparkling blue of my debit card on the ground that I must have dropped on my way out to the parking lot.

I felt heat rush to my cheeks, and I glanced back up at the man.

“Oh, thank you!” I stammered and walked swiftly over to my card, laughing awkwardly and bending down to scoop it up. He nodded once, his smile reaching his eyes now, which then flickered to my car. He lifted his hand again, this time gesturing towards the Bronco. “Visiting from Maine?” He questioned, his voice curious and friendly. I glanced over to the rear of my car, which still had a Maine license plate bolted on. Tom from the DMV had let me know during my visit to come back in a week to pick up my new Washington plates.

“Oh, uh. No, actually…moving here!” I said as I looked back over to the man.

“Wow! Don’t see that often,” He grinned, then hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Why exactly? Not that we’re not happy to have ya, there’s just not much here, hey?”

His demeanor was one of genuine interest, and his questions did not provoke me to feel alarmed, as they likely would have from any other strange man in a grocery store parking lot. I didn’t think it was just because of the wheelchair, although I kicked myself internally for making the mental note that he wouldn’t be able to catch me if I had to run away from him. Oh, the joys of being a woman traveling solo. I shrugged, still maintaining the smile on my face. “Have a job out here, actually. Wildlife biologist.” I saw his eyebrows raise slightly in response to my words. For whatever reason, telling this stranger of my plans didn’t feel as tedious as it had throughout the lengthy process of my settling into Washington, when the many questions of ‘why?’ and ‘but won’t you get scared, or lonely?’ had come up too many times to count.

“Impressive…lots of wildlife here, that’s for sure.” He seemed slightly fascinated, which was one of the two reactions I tended to receive. I wondered how he would react to the whole ‘living in a cabin the middle of the woods alone’ part of my plan. I decided it was probably smart to avoid letting the stranger know I’d be dwelling in the forest all by myself. I nodded, my smile unwavering.

“Yea, erm, I’ll be doing a good amount of data collection down at La Push, some of the species I’m focusing on are beach-goers,” I said with a slightly awkward laugh. His expression wavered infinitesimally, his eyes flickering with some expression entirely unreadable to me.

“Ah..,” He mumbled, glancing down to the ground briefly before looking back up to my face, “Well, let me know if you ever need some direction or help. I live down on the Quileute Reservation, La Push is on our land.” He paused again, then continued, “You can come by the main shop on the beach and ask for me, I’m nearby. Billy Black.” I took in the expression on his features once more, giving up at attempting to understand the man’s genuine kindness. It wasn’t often that strangers didn’t have some ulterior motive, but the man’s calm nature brought me a sense of safety and sureness. It almost felt fatherly, as if he knew I’d be out there by myself, despite my not mentioning it. “Thanks, Billy,” I responded, flashing a grin and holding my debit card up briefly as my expression of gratitude, “I’m Harley…it was nice to meet you! Glad I know somebody around here now.”

He nodded again, this time adding in a slight bow of his head that acted as a polite goodbye. I waved and walked back over to my car, starting the engine and getting my debit card situated back in my wallet. I put the car in reverse, and backed out of the parking spot, finally ready to make the drive to what would be my home for the next 18 months as I completed the work mission assigned to me by Washington state’s Wildlife Conservation Department. As I was preparing to pull out of the store’s lot, a glance in my rearview mirror showed a very tall, muscled, and longhaired young man exiting the store, hanging two grocery bags on the handles of Billy’s wheelchair and pushing it towards an old tan pickup truck in the lot. The boy looked around my age, and his features strongly resembled Billy’s. I quickly put together that they were likely father and son. I saw him glance towards my car as I waited at the stop light that swayed slightly in the wind above the small intersection, and quickly tore my eyes away from the mirror when his dark eyes seemed to find mine. I was grateful when the light turned green, and I took a deep breath as I pulled out of the parking lot, starting down the road towards my future.

_________________________________________________

After the 20 minute drive from the town of Forks to La Push, I pulled out the map that my new boss had emailed to me before my trip, pointing out the minimally marked trailhead towards my new home. I would be staying in the observational shelter that was provided by the state of Washington for whatever brave soul decided that conservation work was more important than their social life. I chuckled lightly to myself as I scanned the tree-line along the road, trying to match the trailhead on the map to any visual marker around me. The sun was just starting to come down, and I worried that I wouldn’t make it to the house in time. Then, I saw the small wooden sign, next to a long chain that was strewn between two short posts, that read ‘National Park - Protected Land, Do Not Cross. Washington State Dept of Fish & Wildlife appointed entrance ONLY’

Well, I thought, there’s my new driveway I suppose. My boss had provided me with the key for the chained entrance when I had arrived two days ago in Port Angeles and checked in for the start of my 18 month shift with the National Park center. I put the car in park and got out, key in hand, feeling giddy as I used the key to unlock the heavy rusted padlock. With effort, the heavy chain fell and I pulled it to the side. I got back in the Bronco and pulled it through the entrance, getting out again after I was through to re-lock the chain. I drove for about 5 minutes, my car struggling in only a few places that had an excess of mud, down the dirt path. The path eventually came to an end, where it widened out to a space about the size of three cars. I had been told that this is what it would look like, and felt pride in myself for not screwing any of the directions up yet. I parked the car at the end of the makeshift road, turning off the engine. I peered around me at the massive forest, ferns and moss lining the floor, and massive trees reaching up towards the sky. My eyes found the smaller, narrower footpath that I had been told would lead to my house. Another duplicate chain and sign hung between two trees at the front of this smaller trail, and I took out my next key. Next was the fun part. I pulled my massive hiking pack out from my backseat, unsure if grabbing the groceries as well was a good idea on my first initial hike to the house. I decided against it after feeling the forty pound pack on my shoulders. I began my trek down the path, taking in the greenery around me. I breathed in the cold air, smelling salty sea air mixed in with a fresh and endless scent of dirt and spruce trees. The hike was relatively easy, my excitement and interest in seeing my home for the first time pulling my body along. After a ten minute trek, I saw the outline of a structure begin to take shape in my vision, and almost squealed with anticipation. A few more yards in, and I could see the brown wooden house, an A frame cabin with a chimney that poked from its slanting roof. It had a small porch that wrapped around its perimeter, and a large sign next to it that once again clarified its State-regulated use. I was thankful for the minimal steps up to the porch as I approached the front door, and threw my heavy pack down onto the wooden platform of the porch. I dug into the pocket of my sweats and pulled out my car keys, which had the red key to the house dangling from the round keychain. I gripped the key in my hand, breathing intentionally to calm myself down, and stuffed the key into the lock, turning it until the door allowed me to push it inward. The door creaked just like the Bronco’s, and I smiled as it slowly revealed the interior of the structure. Well, that’s pretty much exactly what you expected, I reminded myself as I took in the small home. The front door opened to a tiny living room on the left that flowed directly into the minimal kitchen on the other side. Between the two sides, a small hallway flowed to the other end of the house, which was only about another 20 feet. I wandered down the hallway slowly, rubbing my hands back and forth on my arms as the icy air that filled the cabin chilled me to my bones. My boss had advised me that they’d left the faucets dripping to prevent the pipes from freezing over completely, and I breathed a sigh of relief to see the kitchen sink leaking ever so slightly. The next room to the right, behind the kitchen, was a small bathroom, and on the left behind the living room was a tiny bedroom with a queen bed. The room had a dresser leaning against one wall and a window that looked out to the forest. I noticed the stack of blankets on the floor that leaned against the bedside table, and knew I’d probably be grateful for those later.

I spent the next hour bringing my groceries, firewood, and supplies from the car to the house. I was told I was allowed to chop felled wood for the wood burning stove in the house, but had known that I wouldn’t have the energy after the long day of traveling and settling in. I was grateful I’d made the decision to buy the firewood, and got the fire started quickly after emptying my car. The small size of the house helped greatly in filling it rapidly with the heat from the stove. I was quick to close the blinds of all the windows, already feeling the reality of my solo isolation settling into my psyche. I locked the door, ensuring to lock in the deadbolt as well, and grabbed my bear spray from my pack, hanging it from one of the coat hooks along the wall by the door. I sighed and got started on dinner, playing music from my phone and swaying around the kitchen as I cooked.

Within a few hours, darkness had fallen on the house, and I was full of Mac and cheese, watching downloaded Netflix episodes on my laptop, strewn across the couch next to the fire. I felt gentle sleep begin to take hold of me, its warm arms wrapping around my body and urging me to close my eyes. I thought I could recall a rustling noise outside the house as sleep pulled me, but it wasn’t enough above the tapping and creaking wind for my brain to register the sound. And with that, I slipped under the immensely heavy blanket of rest, the odd image of a large grey wolf standing among tall pines, and then of Billy Black’s inquisitive expression as he stared at me in the parking lot of Forks grocery store being the last images my brain displayed on the backs of my lids before I was pulled under completely.

…………………………………………………………………………………

A/N: okay, so Harley is literally in the middle of nowhere, yikes, is it crazy to say this is my dream job? Well, maybe if I had a Paul Lahote who was out in those woods somewhere… cough. If you made it to the end of this chapter, you are a warrior. Development for such a niche plot like this is kinda exhausting but really fun! If you’re a romance girlie, I PROMISE this fic is for you. I swear on my LIFE. Just hold on and have faith 😭

➡️NEXT CHAPTER

[synthsamuri]

⭐️ The Heart of a Star: Epilogue ⭐️

With the evil defeated and a new prince crowned, peace has been restored to Stormhold. Guan Shan and He Tian reunite with their pirate companions, enjoying their new found freedom. The two take time to appreciate their hard fought victory, and finally take the next steps in their relationship. ⭐️ Read "The Heart of a Star," a completed six chapter fic based on Neil Gaiman's "Stardust!" ⭐️ Read the epilogue here! *please be advised of explicit tag*

--- ⭐️ Written for and dedicated to @rainy19days my beta reader and very dear friend! You can send her your thanks for a final smut chapter!

[writingrock]

the tale of two lovers [2]

pairing: barbarian! katsuki bakugou x reader (female) summary: a bard approaches a lone barbarian in search for a story to tell. Who could have known that the barbarian end up being such a romantic tale.

notes: fantasy au, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, bakusquad, barbarian bakugou, mentions of injuries, expletives

word count: 8.9k

part list

part one: chapter list

a/n: part two is here! Feeding time !! I love it when they hate each other >:)

Bakugou was annoying. That was the one word you’d use to describe him— though it hardly seemed enough to capture the sheer exasperation he stirred in you. The journey to Niniel’s Veil should have been the easy part, a straightforward trek across familiar terrain before delving into the real danger that awaited in the Veil’s depths. The path was well-charted, the landscape mostly predictable, and you had the map etched into your memory. By all accounts, this leg of the journey should have been smooth sailing, the calm before the storm. But Bakugou knew exactly how to rile you up, turning even the simplest task into a battle of wills.

“We're moving too slow!” Bakugou’s voice, sharp and demanding, cut through the quiet morning air. “If we keep dragging our feet, we’ll take weeks to get to Niniel’s Veil.”

“The risk is going through ogre territory,” you replied, trying to keep your voice even. “We do not want to use our resources on a big fight like that.”

“Karshoj Arnahk.” Bakugou spat the words, frustration etched in every syllable. You knew enough Draconic to recognize it as an expletive, something along the lines of “for fuck sake.” He was losing patience. He didn’t have time to argue with some prissy mapmaker. “We can take them and get to Niniel’s Veil quicker.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, the map in your hand crinkling slightly. “Or we could avoid them entirely and save ourselves the trouble. Not every fight needs to be fought, especially when there’s a safer way around!”

It didn’t help that he was constantly questioning your decisions, his deep voice laced with scepticism every time you suggested a route that didn’t involve charging headlong into danger. You could see the distaste in his eyes when you advocated for the safer, slower path, as if he considered it a personal affront to his abilities. It was infuriating. Here you were, with years of experience under your belt, and this hot-headed barbarian had the audacity to second-guess you at every turn.

The two of you stood at a crossroads— literally and figuratively— each staring the other down with a mixture of stubbornness and conviction that crackled in the air like a brewing storm. Your gazes locked, neither willing to concede an inch, the tension between you palpable. The rest of the group lingered a few paces back, caught between amusement at the spectacle and concern over what it might mean for the journey ahead. You could sense their unease, their nervous glances exchanged behind your backs, but no one dared to intervene. They knew better than to step into the middle of a clash between two such strong-willed personalities, especially when both of you seemed determined to win this battle of wills.

Kirishima shifted his weight, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “They’ve been at it all morning. Think we should step in?”

Denki shrugged, a small grin playing on his lips. “Eh, let ’em go at it. It’s kinda entertaining, don’t you think? I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Bakugou like that.”

“Yeah, but we’re not making any progress like this,” Sero added, glancing between you and Bakugou. “If they keep arguing, we’ll be stuck here all day.”

Kirishima frowned, his gaze flicking to Bakugou. “He’s just worried about time. You know how he is— always pushing forward, no matter what.”

“True, but our guide’s got a point,” Denki chimed in. “I’d rather not get into a brawl with ogres if we can avoid it. Those guys don’t mess around.”

Mina nodded, her eyes on you as you squared off with Bakugou. “I think they’ll figure it out. They’re both stubborn, but they’re not stupid. Hopefully.”

Bakugou’s voice broke through the murmur of the group, his frustration boiling over. “If you’re so scared of a fight, maybe you shouldn’t be leading us in the first place!”

You bristled at the insult, taking a step closer, your eyes narrowing. “Scared? I’m being practical! It’s called strategy, you dimwit. You don’t just charge in blindly and hope for the best.”

It's not that you were averse to fights— far from it. You understood the value of brute force, and there were times when a show of strength was exactly what the situation called for. But in your mind, there was always a safer, more calculated path to take. One that didn’t involve charging headfirst into danger or risking unnecessary harm. Brute force might solve problems quickly, but a well-thought-out strategy could avoid them altogether, or at the very least, mitigate the risks. 

For all his bluster, Bakugou wasn’t reckless— at least, not in the way you’d initially thought. He was driven, yes, and often too eager to prove himself, but there was a method to his madness. He wasn’t just charging into battle for the thrill of it; he was doing it because he believed it was the fastest, most efficient way to get the job done. And in his own twisted way, he was looking out for the group, even if his methods were more brute force than finesse.

Still, that didn’t make him any less annoying.

“Strategy?” He scoffed, crossing his arms in a mirror of your own stance. “Your ‘strategy’ is to waste time and avoid every challenge we come across. Our progress is at snail pace.”

“This is about being smart,” you snapped back. “It’s about surviving long enough to get to Niniel’s Veil in one piece. Or do you plan on dragging a half-dead group through the forest because you couldn’t wait a few hours to go around?”

“But I guess that’s asking too much from someone who thinks brute force solves everything.”

Bakugou’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too—something like shock, buried deep beneath his stubbornness. He wasn’t used to being questioned like this, especially not by someone he barely knew. But you weren’t backing down, and that seemed to catch him off guard.

“You think you know everything because you’ve got a map and a compass,” Bakugou growled, stepping closer. “But out here, it’s not just about what you know. It’s about what you can do. And what I can do is get us to that Veil faster than your slow, ‘safe’ route.”

You met his gaze head-on, refusing to be intimidated. “And what I can do is make sure we get there without losing anyone along the way. If you’d stop being so damn reckless for five minutes, you might see that.”

The tension between you crackled like a live wire, each of you daring the other to back down. Yet neither of you flinched, standing your ground with unwavering resolve. It was a standoff, a stubborn battle of wills where neither of you was willing to give an inch. Neither of you would ever move.

Finally, Bakugou huffed, breaking the silence. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice low but still laced with irritation. “We’ll do it your way. But if we get ambushed because of this detour, it’s on you.”

You let out a slow breath, relief mixing with the lingering frustration. “Deal. But if we avoid a fight, you owe me an apology.”

Bakugou snorted, turning on his heel as he started down the path you had pointed out. “Tch. Don’t hold your breath.”

"Bastard," you muttered under your breath as you walked with the group. You made sure the insult was just loud enough for him to hear. As you passed by Bakugou, you deliberately bumped his shoulder, a subtle but unmistakable show of defiance.

As you walked past Bakugou, muttering the insult under your breath, he stiffened, his jaw tightening. The faintest twitch in his shoulder betrayed his irritation, and he shot you a sharp, sidelong glare. Despite his attempt to maintain his composure, the anger simmering just beneath the surface was unmistakable, his fists clenching at his sides as he fought to keep his temper in check.

Denki and Sero exchanged glances, both grinning now as they walked behind you. “I think they’re gonna get along just fine,” Sero whispered.

“Or kill each other trying,” Denki added with a laugh.

Bakugou marched forward with determined strides, his shoulder colliding with yours in a harsh, deliberate bump. The force of it nearly threw you off balance, but you quickly steadied yourself, glaring at his back as he put himself slightly ahead of you. He didn't even glance back, his focus fixed on the path ahead as if daring you to react. You rolled your eyes, the irritation bubbling up as you let out a scoff, but you held your tongue. It wasn’t worth it— at least, not right now. 

Still, the tension between you crackled in the air, a silent reminder of how easily the two of you clashed. 

But as you watched Bakugou’s back, still bristling with barely-contained energy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you butted heads. And while it was exhausting, a part of you couldn’t help but admire the fire in him. Even if the fire gave you the urge to strangle him. 

But for now, as the group continued on the safer path, you found a small measure of satisfaction in knowing that you’d held your ground. And if Bakugou had to learn that not every fight could be won with brute force, well… you’d be more than happy to teach him. And rub it in his face. But as far as you were concerned, you doubted that he’d let you teach him anything. In the end, the group did not get ambushed. And Bakugou never apologised. 

You were insufferable. Bakugou couldn't stand you. Every word that came out of your mouth seemed designed to get under his skin, and it worked—too well. You challenged him at every turn, never backing down, never letting him have the last word. It was infuriating.

He could feel his blood pressure spike every time you smirked at him, that infuriatingly calm look on your face as if you knew exactly how to push his buttons. It wasn’t just your words, though they were bad enough. It was the way you matched him, blow for blow, never letting him dominate the conversation or the situation. You were always there, a thorn in his side, ready to counter his every move with some clever quip or an infuriatingly smug retort.

Bakugou often enjoyed insulting people in Draconic, relishing the way it let him vent his frustrations without anyone understanding a word he said. There was something undeniably satisfying about watching someone’s clueless expression as he spat venomous words right to their face, knowing they couldn’t decipher the meaning behind the growls and hisses of his native tongue.

But then there was you. Of all the people to cross his path, you just had to know Draconic. It grated on him that every time he let a curse slip, you not only understood but fired back with equal venom. It was as if you revelled in the challenge, matching him insult for insult, and sometimes even besting him at his own game. It drove him up the wall, especially when you threw insults at him in a language he couldn’t comprehend.

"Maurg wux gashtik," he hissed at you as the two of you walked side by side, leading the group down the winding road. His eyes gleamed with irritation, the insult dripping with venom. He was trying to get creative with his insults now, pushing to see if he could get under your skin. The group sighed at his insult, a familiar one they had heard more than a few times before. It was his go-to jab whenever his patience ran thin.

 

Without missing a beat, you shot back, “Syyulq iw haf'ry zmy aldh kyiwz voraflv, la zmilcw.” Your words were smooth and confident, dripping with the kind of sarcasm that only comes from knowing you’ve got the upper hand. You smirked as you finished, casting a sidelong glance at him, knowing full well that he had no idea what you’d just said. 

Mina, walking behind you, suddenly burst into laughter, clutching her sides as she tried to keep up with the group. In that moment, she was more than relieved that she could understand both Bakugou’s insult and yours. Silently thanking you for cursing back at him in infernal. Her laughter was contagious, and the others glanced around, curious about what was so funny. Bakugou's scowl deepened.

"What the hell did you just say?" he demanded, turning to you with a glare, clearly not pleased with being left out of the joke. He hated being in the dark, especially when it was at his expense.

You simply shrugged, feigning innocence. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" The teasing lilt in your voice only fueled his irritation.

Mina wiped away a tear, still giggling. "Oh, Bakugou, you don’t want to know," she teased, which only made him growl in frustration.

"I do want to know, dammit!" he snapped, his eyes narrowing. But neither of you gave him the satisfaction of an answer, continuing down the path as if nothing had happened.

Kirishima grinned, joining in on the fun. “Kats, I think you’ve met your match.”

Bakugou growled, his frustration mounting. It wasn’t just that you could keep up with him in Draconic—it was that you had the audacity to use another language entirely, one that left him in the dark. It was infuriating, and he hated how you seemed to enjoy pushing his buttons.

“You’re gonna regret that,” Bakugou muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you, as he tried to think up his next move in this strange verbal chess game the two of you had been playing since the journey began.

But for now, you had the upper hand, and the smirk on your face told him you knew it. The group continued their journey, the road ahead long and winding, but the air was lighter with the banter that lingered. 

It gnawed at him, the fact that he couldn’t just ignore you or dismiss you like everyone else who got on his nerves. You were too sharp, too quick, always two steps ahead, and it drove him mad. It was like you were put on this earth specifically to test his patience, to see just how far he could be pushed before he snapped.

Bakugou might have been annoyed, but a small part of him— buried deep beneath the frustration— couldn’t help but admire how you never let him have the upper hand for long. That, he thought grudgingly, was something he could almost respect. Even if it did grind his gears to no end. The journey to Niniel’s Veil was far from over, and the challenges ahead would test all of you in ways you couldn’t yet imagine. 

Maurg wux gashtik: Go fuck a beast. Syyulq iw haf'ry zmy aldh kyiwz voraflv, la zmilcw: Seeing as you’re the only beast around, no thanks. 

If the annoyance wasn’t enough, Bakugou didn’t trust you either. It was understandable, in a way— trust wasn’t something that came easily, especially not in a group formed under the pressure of necessity rather than choice. But the combination of mutual dislike and a lack of trust was a volatile mix, one that threatened to undermine the cohesion of the group at every turn.

The fire crackled softly in the heart of the forest, sending small sparks up into the darkening sky. The gentle warmth of the flames was a comforting contrast to the cool night air. The group sat in a loose circle around the fire, the orange glow illuminating their faces as they chatted quietly. Kirishima was recounting a funny story from one of their previous adventures, his laughter infectious as the others listened, occasionally adding their own comments or chuckles.

Mina leaned back against her pack, her eyes half-closed as she enjoyed the moment of peace. The night was calm, with only the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant call of a nightbird to break the silence. The woods felt alive, but not in a threatening way—just the usual sounds of nocturnal creatures going about their business under the watchful gaze of the stars.

After a while, the conversation began to taper off, the weight of the day’s travel settling in. One by one, everyone began to prepare for sleep. Kirishima stoked the fire one last time before lying down, while the others rolled into their blankets, their breaths gradually slowing as they drifted off.

You lay still for a few moments, listening to the soft, steady breathing of your companions. The fire had burned down to embers, casting a dim, flickering light over the campsite. The forest around you seemed to hold its breath, the quiet only deepening as the night wore on. 

But your mind was restless, thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a storm. Sleep was slipping further away with each passing minute. After what felt like hours of lying there, you silently rose from your bedroll, careful not to disturb the others. The urge to move, to clear your head, was too strong to ignore.

You stepped away from the camp, the night embracing you with its cool, familiar stillness. Your eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, allowing you to see the path ahead with ease. It was a gift you often kept to yourself. It was your nature, after all, to hold things close, to keep your secrets guarded.

As you walked, the forest seemed to whisper around you, the leaves rustling softly as if in conversation. You breathed in the crisp night air, feeling it clear your mind with each step. The solitude was a welcome relief, a chance to gather your thoughts away from the group.

But before you could get far, a firm hand suddenly gripped your shoulder, halting you in your tracks. You turned to find Bakugou standing behind you, his expression hard and unreadable in the shadows. His eyes, however, were sharp and searching.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice low and edged with suspicion. “Ditching us in the middle of the night?”

You shook your head, surprised by his sudden appearance but not entirely shocked by his suspicion. “I’m not ditching anyone. Just needed some air. A walk helps me think.”

Bakugou didn’t release your shoulder, his gaze narrowing as he studied you. “In the dark? Humans can’t see a damn thing out here without a torch.”

You paused, at his words. Bakugou’s hand tightened slightly on your shoulder as he pieced together the implications. “Humans don’t have darkvision,” he muttered, almost to himself. His mind was clearly turning over the possibilities, trying to figure out what you really were. 

You rolled your eyes, the tension between you and Bakugou palpable in the dim light of the forest. “I’m a half-elf,” you said, your tone edged with impatience. “Half-elves have darkvision. I never claimed to be human.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he quickly masked it with his usual scowl. He studied you with renewed scrutiny, as if trying to reconcile this new piece of information with everything he knew— or thought he knew— about you.

“Well, that explains a few things,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “Half-elves, huh? Didn’t see that coming.”

You met his gaze steadily, unflinching. “I didn’t see the need to announce it. Besides, I’d rather not make a big deal out of it. I’m here to help, not to broadcast my heritage.”

The truth was more complicated than you cared to share at the moment, especially with someone as guarded as Bakugou. He wasn’t someone who trusted easily, and you doubted he’d start now.

After a moment of tense silence, Bakugou finally released his grip, though his eyes remained wary. “Whatever. We’re not out here for a midnight stroll. Let’s go back to camp.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and started walking back toward the campfire, clearly expecting you to follow. You hesitated for a moment, then sighed and fell in step behind him.

As you walked, Bakugou’s posture remained stiff, his mind clearly still turning over what he’d just discovered. You had given him an answer, but he wasn’t sure if he trusted it. Then again, would you lie about something like that? The doubt lingered in his eyes, though he didn’t ask any more questions. The silence between you was heavy, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. It was clear that, for now at least, the matter wasn’t settled in his mind.

When you both returned to camp, the fire was still glowing faintly, and the others remained asleep, unaware of the brief exchange. Bakugou didn’t say anything as he resumed his spot by the fire, but his eyes followed you as you lay down once more.

As you closed your eyes, you could feel his gaze lingering, the unspoken question hanging in the air. It seemed that trust, for now, would remain elusive between you— but at least you knew where you stood.

The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor as the group prepared for another day of travel. The air was crisp and fresh, a welcome change from the damp chill of the previous night. As everyone readied their gear, you decided to take a backseat in the day's journey, letting Bakugou take the lead. The prospect of another argument with him seemed exhausting, so you followed behind with Kirishima, who had readily offered to walk with you.

Kirishima’s cheerful demeanour was a stark contrast to Bakugou’s usual intensity, and you found the company pleasant. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, your footsteps crunching softly on the forest path.

“So, Kirishima,” you began, trying to steer the conversation toward a topic you’d been curious about. “What’s Bakugou’s story? I mean, I know he’s skilled, but there’s something about him that seems like there’s more.”

Kirishima gave you a thoughtful look, his usually bright eyes narrowing slightly as he considered how to respond. “Bakugou?” he said, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. “He’s got quite the history. He’s a dragonborn prince, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the revelation. “A prince? That’s… not something I expected. I mean, he doesn’t exactly come across as the royal type.”

Kirishima chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that was warm and friendly. “Yeah, he doesn’t exactly fit the typical prince mould. But he’s got a lot of responsibilities back home. Being a prince isn’t just about wearing a crown—it’s about carrying a whole lot of weight.”

You glanced ahead, where Bakugou was striding with his usual determination, his back straight and his gaze fixed on the path ahead. “So, what’s driving him to adventure like this? It seems like a pretty big change from royalty.”

Kirishima hesitated for a moment, his expression becoming more guarded. “Well, that’s not really my place to say. Bakugou’s got his reasons, and he doesn’t share them easily. Let’s just say he’s on a quest that’s important to him—something personal.”

You nodded, sensing that Kirishima was being intentionally vague. “Fair enough. It’s clear he values his privacy. But it’s good to know he has friends like you backing him up.”

Kirishima’s smile returned, a look of genuine warmth in his eyes. “Yeah, we go way back. I’m his chosen advisor, and it’s my job to support him, no matter what. We’ve been through a lot together, and I trust him more than anyone.”

You smiled, appreciating the loyalty and camaraderie that Kirishima clearly felt for Bakugou. “It sounds like you two have a strong bond. I guess that’s why you’re always so ready to jump in and help him out.”

“Definitely,” Kirishima agreed, his tone filled with sincerity. “We’ve got each other’s backs. That’s what matters.”

The conversation drifted to lighter topics as you both continued along the path, the forest surrounding you both serene and welcoming. There was a sense of unity and purpose among the group. As you walked beside Kirishima, you felt a deeper understanding of the dynamics within your travelling party and a little bit of Bakugou. 

Your mind drifted back to the night’s encounter. Bakugou had thought you were going to run off, his suspicion evident in the way he confronted you. It wasn’t just that he didn’t trust you— he was actively wary, as if expecting you to betray the group at any moment. The weight of his doubt lingered with you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what you could do to earn his trust.

You hadn’t lied when you told him you were a half-elf. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t the full truth either. There were parts of your heritage you hadn’t revealed, things you weren’t ready to share with anyone— not yet. That unspoken part of yourself hung between you and Bakugou like a shadow, a barrier that kept him on edge. You knew the dangers of revealing your true identity. The consequences could be far-reaching, and trust was a fragile thing. So, for now, you would keep it hidden for as long as you could, hoping that time would eventually build the trust you needed to bridge the gap between you and Bakugou.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest floor, Bakugou and Mina worked together to set up camp. The crackling of the fire was the only sound for a while, save for the occasional rustle of leaves as the wind whispered through the trees. Bakugou was unusually quiet, his sharp gaze focused on the task at hand, but his mind was elsewhere. 

After a moment of silence, he glanced at Mina, who was busy laying out bedrolls. “Oi, Mina,” he started, his tone gruff as he tried to sound casual, “how close are you with that cartographer?”

Mina looked up, blinking in surprise at the sudden question. She tilted her head, considering. “We get along fine,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “She's easy to talk to, but… I wouldn’t say we’re super close. Why?”

Bakugou shrugged, his expression carefully neutral, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Just wonderin’. She ever open up to you? Y’know, about her past or whatever?”

Mina shook her head as she thought back. “Not really. She’s pretty secretive, honestly. I know She’s a cartographer—travelling all over the place for work. But outside of that, she doesn't share much. She usually keeps to themselves.”

Bakugou frowned, his brows knitting together as he absorbed this information. “So she doesn't talk about where she’s been or what she’s seen?”

Mina shrugged, her expression a mix of curiosity and understanding. “Not much, no. I think she prefers to keep her distance. It’s like she’s here, but her mind is always somewhere else, always on the next map, the next destination.”

Bakugou grunted in response, his gaze drifting towards the trees where the others had gone to collect water and firewood. “Figures,” he muttered, almost to himself. He couldn’t quite place why it bothered him that you were so closed off. Maybe it was because he couldn’t stand not knowing what made someone tick, or maybe it was something else entirely—something he wasn’t ready to admit, even to himself.

Bakugou thought back to that night. You had said you were a half-elf, but something about it didn’t sit right with him. There was a nagging feeling in his gut, a sense that there was more to your story than you were letting on. He couldn’t shake the feeling that you were holding something back, something important. 

But then again, it was still early in the journey. Maybe he was just overthinking it, letting his natural suspicion get the better of him. He huffed, brushing off the unease with a scowl. He was probably just being stupid, reading too much into things that didn’t matter. There was a long road ahead, and he couldn’t afford to get distracted by his own doubts—not yet, anyway.

Mina noticed the thoughtful look on his face and smiled softly. “You’re curious about her, huh? It’s not like you to take an interest in someone’s life like this.”

Bakugou scowled, quickly masking his curiosity with a gruff snort. “Don’t get any ideas, Mina. Just tryin’ to figure out what makes ‘em so damn secretive. It’s annoying.”

Mina chuckled, giving him a knowing look. “Sure, sure. Well, maybe she’ll open up eventually. Who knows? We’ve still got a long journey ahead.”

Bakugou didn’t respond, but the frown on his face deepened as he returned to his task, his mind still turning over the mystery that was you. The more he thought about it, the more it gnawed at him. There was something about you that didn’t add up, and Bakugou wasn’t the type to leave a puzzle unsolved.

You returned from gathering firewood with Sero, engaged in light conversation as you both made your way back to camp. Sero was animatedly discussing his latest idea for improving the camp setup when your eyes happened to meet Bakugou’s across the clearing. The moment your gazes locked, the interaction quickly soured into a glare.

Bakugou’s voice cut through the calm evening like a blade. “What are you looking at?” he growled, his tone sharp and challenging.

You met his gaze with a raised eyebrow, your own expression hardening. “I’m just bringing back the firewood, Bakugou. If you’ve got something to say, just spit it out.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, his irritation barely contained. “Oh, I’m just admiring your talent for being annoyingly friendly all the time.”

“Better than being a grumpy jerk,” you shot back, your tone crisp and biting. “At least I’m making an effort to get along with everyone around me.”

Bakugou snorted, his defiant expression unwavering. “Getting along doesn’t mean I have to like you.”

“Well, too bad. You’re stuck with me for the long haul,” you retorted, your eyes challenging as you turned back to Sero.

His scowl deepened, the lines on his forehead etched with frustration. “It’s not my fault if you’re always skulking around like you’re up to something.”

You took offence, the bundle of wood in your arms feeling heavier as your grip tightened. “Oh, spare me. Maybe if you didn’t jump to conclusions all the time, you wouldn’t be so damn paranoid.”

Sero, sensing the escalating tension and the heat of the moment, stepped in with a nervous laugh, trying to defuse the situation. “Hey, let’s just focus on setting up camp, alright? No need to turn this into a fight.”

The two of you exchanged one last, lingering glare before turning away, the bitterness of the encounter still hanging in the air. It was clear that, despite the forced civility, there was a lot of ground to cover before any semblance of mutual respect could be established. The journey ahead was long, and whether you liked it or not, learning to get along would be a necessary part of the road ahead. Both of you would have to navigate your way through this tension, finding common ground amid the bickering and suspicion, if you were to make it through the trials of the journey together.

The tavern’s warm glow flickers over Bakugou’s face as he recounts the early days of the journey to the bard. The firelight dances across the rugged lines of his features, accentuating the gruffness of his expression. His voice, though rough and often brusque, carries a hint of amusement as he describes the mishaps and close calls of their travels. The corner of his mouth curls into a rare, fleeting smile, betraying a sense of camaraderie and nostalgia as he relives the stories of the group’s early adventures. 

“So, let me get this straight,” the bard chuckles, leaning forward, “you two couldn’t stand each other from the start?”

Bakugou snorts, a rare grin tugging at his lips. “Hated each other’s guts. She was too careful, and I was too reckless. We annoyed the hell out of each other every chance we got.”

“We couldn’t stand each other,” Bakugou admits, his tone gruff but tinged with amusement. “Always bickering, always on each other’s nerves. Hell, I thought we were gonna tear each other apart before we even made it halfway.”

The bard chuckles, shaking his head. “Sounds like quite the pair. How’d you manage to get anything done?”

Bakugou laughs, a low, rumbling sound. “By sheer stubbornness. We hated each other, sure, but I’ll give her this—she knew what she was doing. Eventually, we figured out how to make it work. Mostly.” He added with a knowing grin.

The bard laughs as well, eyes twinkling with interest. “And now?”

“Now?” Bakugou leans back, a glint of nostalgia in his eyes. There’s a hint of sadness in them. “Now, we still argue like crazy. But somehow, we make it work.”

It had barely been two weeks of relentless bickering with Bakugou, and every moment felt like a battle you were losing. His sharp words, constant challenges, and the way he always had to have the last word grated on your nerves. You couldn’t stand it. The tension was suffocating, your patience wearing thin with every snarky exchange. The urge to scream clawed at your throat, desperate for release.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the dense canopy of trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The air was cool, filled with the earthy scent of moss and damp leaves. A gentle stream gurgled nearby as Mina and you filled water skins for the camp, the soothing sound doing little to quell your growing frustration.

“I swear, Bakugou is impossible!” you huffed, shaking your head as you dipped another skin into the clear water. “He acts like nothing can touch him, diving into danger for convenience!”

Mina glanced at you, an amused smile playing on her lips as she finished tying off one of the filled skins. “You know he’s just being Bakugou. It’s kind of his thing— punch first, ask questions later. But it has worked out before.”

You rolled your eyes, the irritation evident in your voice. “Yeah, but it’s only a matter of time before it doesn’t! He needs to learn to slow down, think things through. When we reach Niniel’s Veil, it’s not just fighting monsters out here; we’ve got traps, puzzles, who knows what else. He’s too reckless!”

Meanwhile, deeper in the woods, Kirishima and Bakugou were trudging through the underbrush, fallen branches crunching underfoot as they gathered firewood. Bakugou’s expression was as stormy as ever, his grip on the axe handle tight as he vented his frustrations.

“That damn guide is a pain in the ass,” Bakugou grumbled, swinging the axe down with a fierce chop. “Always so careful, double-checking every damn thing like I’m some kind of idiot. We don’t have time for all that crap!”

Kirishima chuckled, hoisting a thick branch onto his shoulder. “But isn’t that why you brought her along? To make sure we don’t walk into some ancient trap or something in the Veil? I mean, you’ve got to admit, her method has been smooth sailing.”

Bakugou scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he chopped through another log. “Doesn’t mean she has to question every move I make. I’ve got instincts, damn good ones! She just needs to keep up and stop second-guessing me.”

The complaints overlapped in the forest air, each of you venting to your companions, the words crossing paths but never reaching the intended target.

You shook your head, handing a full water skin to Mina. “He’s so stubborn. I don’t know how he thinks he’s going to survive if he keeps acting like he’s invulnerable. One of these days, he’s going to get us all killed.”

Mina tied off the skin, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe you just need to find a way to work with him, instead of against him. I mean, you’re both pretty set in your ways, but maybe that’s why you butt heads so much. You balance each other out, you know?”

Back with Kirishima, Bakugou grunted, shouldering a bundle of firewood. “She thinks that she knows everything, like she’s got all the answers. But I’ve been through worse, and I’m still standing. She needs to trust that I’ve got this.”

Kirishima adjusted the weight of the branches, his tone calm. “Maybe it’s not about who’s right, but about making sure we all get through this together. You both care about the group, even if you show it in different ways.”

“Urgh..! He’s such a pain! I can’t stand him. He’s such a—”

“She’s such an uptight, overcautious nag! Always acting like she’s got a stick up her—” 

“—reckless, hot-headed maniac! Charging into everything like it’s a damn arena fight! Why can’t he just—” 

“—shut up and let me handle things without acting like I’m gonna blow us all up every five seconds! It’s not like—” 

“—he ever listens to anyone but himself! If he’d just stop and think for one second, maybe we wouldn’t be—” 

“—stuck wasting time because someone has to check every leaf and twig like it’s gonna explode!” 

“—risking our necks because he’s too stubborn to admit he’s not invincible!”

Mina and Kirishima exchanged knowing glances if they were next to each other. They watched the barbarian and the cartographer vent their intense frustrations. The raw display of annoyance was almost comical— both of them so stubborn, so convinced they were right, yet so blind to how similar they really were. Mina chuckled softly, shaking her head at the irony of it all, while Kirishima couldn’t help but grin at the familiar scene. They had seen this play out before: the clash of two strong-willed personalities who, despite their constant bickering, somehow managed to keep the group moving forward.

Neither of you would hear the other’s words, each too wrapped up in your own complaints. The journey ahead was fraught with dangers, and though you couldn’t see it yet, those opposing qualities might just be what kept the group together when the stakes were highest.

There were definitely times when your methods worked best, especially in situations that demanded careful planning and a steady hand. Navigating treacherous terrain and leading with caution—all tasks where your meticulous approach and attention to detail had saved the group from wasting precious resources early in the journey. You were determined to conserve energy and supplies for the challenges that awaited at Niniel’s Veil. 

But there were also moments when Bakugou’s approach was undeniably effective. His instinct to charge forward, to confront danger head-on with raw strength and unwavering confidence, had turned the tide in battles where hesitation could have been fatal. His ability to make quick, decisive moves in the heat of the moment had saved lives more than once.

The early morning air was crisp and cool, carrying with it the faintest scent of dew and pine. The camp was still, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of awakening birds. The sky, just beginning to blush with the first hints of dawn, cast a soft, golden light over the landscape. You and Bakugou were the only ones awake, the rest of the group still wrapped in the comfort of their sleep. An unspoken tension lingered between you.

Bakugou sat by the embers of the now-dying campfire, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stared out into the growing light. You approached him, your footsteps muffled by the soft ground. The air was crisp and cool, a welcome relief from the stuffy confines of the tent.

“Hey,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the underlying strain. “Since we’re both up, I figured I might as well come with you to scout ahead.”

Bakugou glanced up, his expression a mix of surprise and reluctant approval. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You nodded and fell into step beside him, the two of you moving out of the camp and into the dense underbrush. The forest around you was bathed in a soft, early morning light, the trees casting long, slanting shadows on the ground. The silence of the woods was punctuated only by the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional chirp of a waking bird.

The awkwardness between you was palpable, each step feeling like a small, deliberate choice in a game neither of you wanted to play. Bakugou’s posture remained rigid, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a vigilance that spoke more of habit than relaxation. You walked beside him, your own gaze alert but focused on maintaining a semblance of peace.

Bakugou was quiet, the weight of unspoken tension hanging between you. He knew that for this journey to work, you both needed to reach some kind of understanding. Begrudgingly, he decided to start the conversation. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew it had to happen.

After a few minutes of strained silence, Bakugou finally broke it. “Why do you hate me so much?” His voice was low and gruff, cutting through the quiet.

You glanced at him, taken aback by the bluntness of his question. “Hate’s a strong word,” you replied, keeping your tone measured. “I don’t hate you. I just think your approach is reckless and puts everyone at risk.”

Bakugou’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. “Reckless? You mean taking risks to get things done faster. You’re the one who always plays it safe, wasting time and taking it slow while we’re stuck in the same spot.”

“Oh, come on,” you shot back, a hint of frustration seeping into your voice. “It’s not about playing it safe. It’s about using our heads and avoiding unnecessary danger. If we take shortcuts without knowing what we’re up against, we’re just asking for trouble.”

“Trouble that we can handle,” Bakugou retorted. “If we keep taking the long way, we’ll never get anywhere. Sometimes you’ve got to take a chance to get ahead.”

You shook your head, exasperated. “And sometimes those chances come with risks that could be avoided. It’s not worth jeopardising everyone’s safety for the sake of saving a few hours.”

As you argued, Bakugou’s eyes fell on a narrow path winding through the woods. He pointed to it, his tone challenging. “Look, there’s a shortcut right there. We could cut through and save a lot of time.”

You pulled out your map and studied it, your brow furrowing. “That shortcut is infested with bandits. I’ve marked it as dangerous. It’s not worth the risk.”

Bakugou’s frustration was palpable. “The group can handle bandits. We’ve fought worse. Why waste time taking the long way around when we can deal with the problem head-on?”

You glared at him, your patience wearing thin. “Because it’s not just about fighting. It’s about making sure we don’t run into more trouble than we can handle. Sometimes avoiding a fight is the smarter move.”

The argument continued, the exchange heated but ultimately inconclusive. Both of you were too entrenched in your own viewpoints to reach an agreement. When you finally returned to camp, you were both visibly frustrated.

The group was still asleep, the peaceful morning broken only by the soft murmur of the wind and the distant chirping of birds. You and Bakugou sat down, waiting for the others to wake up. The lingering tension between you was undeniable, but there was also a sense of shared purpose—an understanding that, despite the disagreements, you both had a role to play in the journey ahead.

As the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, the rest of the group began to stir. Kirishima was the first to sit up, rubbing his eyes and glancing around sleepily. He quickly noticed the strained silence between you and Bakugou, who sat apart from each other, both looking tense and frustrated.

“Uh… morning, guys,” Kirishima said cautiously, trying to gauge the situation. He shot a questioning look at Sero, who was now waking up beside him.

Sero stretched and yawned, then raised an eyebrow as he took in the scene. “Morning. Everything… okay?”

Denki, who had just rolled out of his blanket, leaned in closer to Mina and whispered, “What’s up with them? It’s too early for them to be fighting already.”

Mina, still half-asleep but alert enough to pick up on the tension, whispered back, “I don’t know, but you can feel it from here. They must’ve had another argument while we were asleep.”

“Again?” Denki replied, shaking his head. “You’d think they’d save it for when we’re all awake at least.”

Kirishima stood up and started gathering his things, trying to break the awkwardness. “Alright, let’s start packing up. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” He shot a pointed look at you and Bakugou, hoping to diffuse the tension.

Mina and Denki exchanged a knowing glance before following Kirishima’s lead, quietly packing their belongings while sneaking curious glances at you and Bakugou. Sero sighed and muttered under his breath, “Great, just what we needed. Another day of this.”

As everyone started to pack up, the camp buzzed with quiet activity, but the atmosphere remained heavy. Despite the early morning chill, the tension between you and Bakugou lingered, a silent reminder of the ongoing clash of strategies and personalities.

You had spent the morning turning over Bakugou’s and Mina’s words in your mind. Your aversion to danger wasn’t born from some crippling fear. It was more a matter of practicality, honed by years of travelling alone. The safer, longer paths were the ones you’d come to rely on, not because you couldn’t hold your own in a fight, but because most threats didn’t come alone. As a lone traveller, risking an encounter with a group of enemies wasn’t a gamble you could afford to make. 

You couldn't deny that the idea of taking shortcuts was tempting—who wouldn't want to shave time off a journey? But the longer routes had become second nature to you. They offered a sense of control, a way to avoid unnecessary risks, even if it meant the journey took longer. After all, the longer path had kept you alive this long. But now, you weren’t alone. 

This time, you were guiding a group capable of working together in fights, each member bringing their own strengths to the table. While you understood the weight of responsibility for your choices and the lives of those around you, you also had to acknowledge that they were strong. Maybe it was time to trust in their abilities as much as your own instincts.

So, you decided to give in to Bakugou’s methods. It wasn’t easy—your instinct was to err on the side of caution, to take the longer, safer route. But you couldn’t always reject Bakugou’s ideas. He wasn’t stupid; if anything, he was frustratingly competent. Maybe, just maybe, his method would work out this time.

“Alright,” you said, catching up to him as the group prepared to move out. “Let’s take the shortcut you suggested.”

Bakugou turned to you, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You’re agreeing with me? No complaints about how dangerous it is?”

You shrugged, gripping your sword staff a little tighter. “No, no complaints. If we manage to get through, it’ll get us to Niniel’s Veil quicker. I can see the benefit in different methods.”

He gave you a long, searching look before nodding. “Good. Then let’s get moving. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when we run into trouble.”

You met his gaze, your voice firm. “I’m not scared of trouble.”

The group set off, the atmosphere tinged with a mix of tension and curiosity. Bakugou led the way, his confidence clear in his stride, while you stayed close, your sword staff at the ready. The path was narrow, overgrown, and clearly less travelled— a clear indication of why it was considered a shortcut. The trees loomed overhead, their thick branches casting long shadows on the ground as the sun filtered through in patches.

This shortcut was infamous for the number of bandits lying in wait to ambush travellers. It was certainly a quicker route, but it came with a reputation for trouble, especially in this part of the woods. 

You kept your senses sharp, every sound and movement drawing your attention. The quiet was unnerving, each snap of a twig underfoot sending a jolt of anticipation through you. You could feel the others’ unease too— Mina kept casting glances at you, while Sero and Kirishima’s usual banter had died down, replaced by a focused silence.

Sure enough, as the group pressed deeper into the shortcut, the ambush came. A gang of bandits emerged from the underbrush, their weapons drawn and eyes gleaming with malicious intent. It was clear they’d been lying in wait, expecting easy prey.

“There they are!” one of the bandits shouted, raising his sword. “Get ’em!”

Your grip on the sword staff tightened as you instinctively fell into a defensive stance. “Here we go,” you muttered to yourself, your eyes scanning the bandits for any weaknesses.

Bakugou, however, was already on the move. “Stay close and don’t hold back!” he barked, his voice commanding as he charged forward, his weapon drawn and ready.

The fight was intense and chaotic. The bandits were skilled, but your group was more than a match for them. Bakugou’s aggressive approach caught the bandits off guard, his attacks swift and brutal. You found yourself coordinating with him, your defensive techniques complementing his offence as you fought off the attackers.

“Watch your left!” Bakugou yelled, his voice cutting through the din of battle.

You pivoted, blocking an incoming strike with the shaft of your sword staff before delivering a sharp counterattack. “Cover the right!”

Bakugou grunted in acknowledgment, his movements fluid as he took down another bandit. The two of you moved in sync, your strategies— though different— working together to keep the group protected. Mina and Denki used their abilities to create distance, while Sero and Kirishima provided support, ensuring no one got overwhelmed.

Despite the initial tension, the fight went smoothly. The bandits were eventually routed, their numbers no match for your combined strength. As the last of them fled into the trees, one of them managed to knock you to the ground.

Bakugou was quick to stride over, grabbing your arm and hauling you back to your feet with a force that left you slightly off balance. “Can’t even stay on your feet?” he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Whatever,” you retorted, shaking your head as you brushed the dirt from your clothes. “Thanks, I guess.”

Bakugou chuckled, the sound a low, gruff rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “What was that?” he asked, leaning slightly closer, the smirk widening. “Didn’t quite catch that. Why don’t you say it again?”

You shot him a glare, pausing in your task to look him squarely in the eye. “Don’t push your luck, Bakugou. I said what I said.”

His smirk only grew, clearly enjoying the reaction he’d provoked. “That’s what I thought. You’re welcome, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes, slotting your sword staff into your pack. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And you’re welcome,” he repeated, the teasing tone unmistakable.

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile a little as you adjusted your backpack. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to be grateful every time you play hero.”

Bakugou’s eyes glinted with amusement as he rolled his shoulders, preparing to continue the journey. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But you might want to work on that ‘thank you’ anyway. We’ve got a long journey ahead.”

You shook your head, but the corners of your mouth twitched upward. “Keep dreaming.”

There was a pause as the both of you caught your breath, the adrenaline of the fight slowly ebbing away. The forest around you was quiet again, save for the distant rustle of leaves and the soft breeze. You both stood there, a few feet apart, the tension that had filled the air earlier now replaced by a tentative calm. 

Bakugou looked at you, his gaze steady as he wiped a bit of dirt off his arm. “Told you it’d work out,” he said, his voice gruff but surprisingly even. “Sometimes, you just have to take the risk.”

You couldn’t help but grin, albeit begrudgingly. There was something about his blunt confidence that, for once, you couldn’t argue with. “Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. “But next time, we do it my way.”

Bakugou snorted, a sound that was more amused than dismissive. There was no malice in it, just a hint of teasing. “We’ll see about that. But admit it— my way wasn’t so bad this time.”

You chuckled, a strange sense of camaraderie settling between you, easing the usual friction. “I guess I’ll give you that. But just this once.”

Bakugou’s eyes glinted with a mix of satisfaction and challenge as he crossed his arms over his chest, a small smirk still playing on his lips. “Once is all I need,” he replied, the competitive edge in his voice unmistakable.

The tension that usually hung between you had softened, replaced by something that felt almost like mutual respect. The group, though tired, seemed more cohesive after the battle, the tension of the shortcut replaced by a sense of accomplishment. As you resumed your journey, the atmosphere was lighter, the lingering animosity between you and Bakugou beginning to thaw—if only just a little.

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a/n: maybe you guys can make out instead of fighting. Every Twosday yall !! @chocogoldie @l0kisbitch @devils-adversary

border credits: @enchanthings & @adornedwithlight

© writingrock 2024 do not copy, translate or repost.

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𝟎𝟎𝟎. 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒.

sandor clegane / the hound

jon snow / aegon VI targaryen

robb stark

oberyn martell

gendry rivers / baratheon

podrick payne

theon greyjoy

viserys targaryen

brienne of tarth

jorah mormont

𝟎𝟎𝟏. 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.

rhaenyra targaryen

helaena targaryen

otto hightower

daemon targaryen

aemond targaryen

aegon ii targaryen

harwin strong

criston cole

gwayne hightower

cregan stark

hugh hammer

addam of hull

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halsin silverbough

gale dekarios

karlach

lae’zel

minthara baenre

wyll ravengard

jaheira

enver gortash

raphael

rolan

zevlor

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kael’thas sunstrider

illidan stormrage

broll bearmantle

anduin wrynn

rexxar

sylvanas windrunner

maiev shadowsong

jarod shadowsong

kalecgos

baine bloodhoof

khadgar

𝟎𝟎𝟒. 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 / 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑.

legolas greenleaf

thranduil

aragorn

haldir of lórien

faramir

éomer éadig

arondir (rings of power)

elrond peredhel (rings of power)

ereinion gil-galad (rings of power)

elendil (rings of power)

adar (rings of power)

sauron / halbrand (rings of power)

𝟎𝟎𝟓. 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒.

geralt of rivia — (the witcher)

prince caspian — (chronicles of narnia)

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The Wolf & The Heir of Fire (Fenrys Moonbeam POV excerpt)

Fenrys sat, his golden fur a shining beacon as he laid next to the Fae-Queen of Doranelle.

Her presence grated. It was a dark venom that flowed in his veins. A side effect of the all consuming sacrifice he’d made in the name of his twin. The brother who had been placed on the other side of the cold stone throne upon which Maeve sat.

Fenrys had become Maeve’s plaything, her entertainment, her pleasure.

Her whore.

On the ground in front of him Rowan, Vaughn, Cairn, and Lorcan kneeled, their foreheads touching the floor in a bow. The submission of high lethal fae warriors bound by the Blood Oath never failed to make Fenrys shudder.

“Rise.” Maeve’s voice was a soft, unearthly command.

In unison the males lifted their bodies off of the floor, but did not move to stand, remaining on their knees before Maeve.

“I have,” She paused briefly, an amused smile on her lips, “Something that needs doing quite badly.”

Her hand dropped over the arm of the throne, and Fenrys lifted his great big head to allow her spindly fingers to twine through his fur.

He let out a low growl of pleasure at her touch.

The dichotomy of the Blood Oath.

Maeve was the bane of his existence, his warden, bought into slavery by her blood and coercion.

But she was also his queen.

His ruler to please, to obey.

She was quiet as she examined the cadre, her index finger and thumb lazily stroking Fenrys’ golden ears.

“Aelin Galathynius has crossed into Wendlyn.”