#Look at the Vipers dancing their way into the New Year!

[d1stalker]

Undercover Flames [Logan Howlett]

Summary: It was supposed to be easy: infiltrate the gala, gather intel, and report back. But when a mission takes a deadly turn, Logan is forced to confront his deepest fears as he races to save the woman who means more to him than life itself.

PART ONE OF TWO (part two here)

Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, canon-level violence, Logan goes feral, graphic descriptions, lot's of fighting, feels

WC: 10.8k - MASTERLIST

------

A black limousine pulls up to the grand entrance of the sprawling estate, its tires crunching on the gravel driveway. The mansion ahead is bathed in golden light, a beacon of opulence against the darkening sky. Inside, Logan’s gaze shifts to the woman beside him, his fellow teammate and the only person who can keep up with his banter. You adjust the diamond necklace around your neck, the gemstones glinting in the dim light. Logan has seen you in countless situations—on missions, during training, in the midst of battle—but tonight, in that floor-length black gown, you look like someone who belongs in this world of wealth and power. You look beautiful.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, Howlett,” you quip, catching him staring. A smirk plays on your lips as you adjust to fix your hair.

Logan grunts, pulling at the collar of his tuxedo. “Never seen you so dolled up before. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“I’m full of surprises,” you tease.

The two of you have been dancing around something deeper for years, hidden beneath layers of sarcasm and witty comebacks. But tonight, with both of you playing the roles of a married couple, the lines between reality and pretense are bound to feel thinner than ever.

Logan’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer, his gaze softening as he takes in the way the dress hugs your figure, the way your hair frames your face. You catch the look, and for a split second, the playful atmosphere between you falls away, replaced by a charged silence that neither of you knows how to break.

The driver opens the door, jolting you back to your senses, and Logan steps out, extending a hand to help you out of the car. You take it, your touch sending a familiar shiver down his spine. He holds onto your hand for just a beat longer than necessary, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.

“Ready?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan nods, his grip tightening slightly on your hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

As the doors to the mansion swing open, you’re greeted by the sight of a grand ballroom filled with the elite of society. Men in tailored suits and women in sparkling gowns mingle under chandeliers, their laughter and conversations blending into a hum of affluence. Yet beneath the glittering surface, Logan can sense the undercurrent of danger, the same instinct that has kept him alive for over two centuries. The people here aren’t just the wealthy—they’re the orchestrators of a new threat to mutants, a group so powerful that even the X-Men have to tread carefully.

“Stick close to me,” Logan murmurs as you step into the room. “These people are more dangerous than they look.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, your arm looped through his as you make your way through the crowd. “You don’t have to tell me twice. But remember, we’re supposed to be madly in love.”

He lets out a low chuckle, one that only you can hear. “Right. Madly in love.”

His words hang in the air between you, loaded with a meaning neither of you dares to acknowledge.

The two of you move deeper into the ballroom, and you can feel the weight of several eyes on you. It’s no surprise—Logan’s rugged demeanor and your striking appearance make for a captivating combination—nevertheless, you both know better than to let your guard down. This place is a viper’s nest, and any wrong move could cost you your lives.

“There they are,” you whisper, nodding subtly toward a group of older men gathered near the center of the room. “Our targets.”

Logan’s eyes narrow as he focuses on them, recognizing the group from the briefings. “Time to make some friends.”

With practiced ease, you and Logan approach the group, slipping seamlessly into their conversation. You introduce yourselves as a wealthy couple from out of town, interested in investing in the right causes. It doesn’t take long before the men welcome you into their circle, eager to impress and share their twisted ideals.

“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels, was it?” one of the men, a tall, thin figure with silver hair and a sharp jawline, inquires. His eyes are cold and calculating, a predator sizing up his prey. “What brings you to our little gathering tonight?”

“Opportunities,” you reply, a hint of seduction in your tone. “My husband and I are always looking for the right people to align ourselves with. When we heard about your… endeavors, we couldn’t resist.”

Logan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer in a show of possessiveness that feels all too natural. “My wife’s got a keen eye for business,” he adds for extra persuasion, “And we’ve been hearing a lot about your group. Sounds like you’ve got big plans.”

The man’s eyes flick between the two of you, as if his suspicions still linger. “Plans indeed,” he says slowly. “But only for those who share our vision. Tell me, Mr. Daniels, what is it that you despise most?”

“Weakness,” Logan growls, his eyes meeting the man’s without flinching. “In this world, you’re either strong enough to survive, or you’re not. And I don’t have time for the ones who can’t keep up.”

A smile that doesn’t reach his eyes spreads across the man’s face. “I see we understand each other.”

You feel Logan’s hand tighten on your waist, his body tense with barely contained aggression. He’s playing the part, but you know how much he hates being in the company of people like this—people who would kill without remorse, all to maintain some sense of superiority.

“And what about you, Mrs. Daniels?” the older man continues, turning his attention to you. “Do you share your husband’s views?”

You meet his gaze with unwavering confidence, channeling all the poise you have. “Absolutely. There’s no place in this world for those who refuse to evolve. We believe in survival of the fittest.”

That seems to do the trick, the men in the circle nodding approvingly. “Well said, Mrs. Daniels. You two might just be exactly what we need.”

Another man in the group, stockier and with a thick, gray beard, leans in closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “And what do you think of the mutant problem?”

You exchange a brief glance with Logan, knowing that this is the moment of truth. If you say the wrong thing, it could blow your cover, but if you’re too vague, they might not trust you enough to share any details of their plans.

“I think they’ve had their time,” Logan says, false contempt bleeding from his words, “and it’s time someone put them in their place.”

The stocky man’s eyes light up with approval, his grin widening. “Exactly what we like to hear. You see, we’re not just talking about containment anymore.” He pauses, “We’re talking about eradication.”

Your stomach turns at the cold-blooded tone in his voice, but you keep your expression neutral.

“Eradication, you say?”

The silver-haired man nods. “A necessary step. Mutants are a threat to the natural order, and if we don’t act now, they’ll overrun us. But we have a plan—one that will send a message to the world.”

Logan’s jaw clenches, his fists itching to unsheathe his claws and tear through this evil group of people. But he forces himself to stay calm, “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth.

“We do,” the silver-haired man replies, his eyes gleaming with malice. “And with the right support, we can make it happen. Imagine a world free of mutants, where humanity can thrive without fear.”

You hum in feigned agreement. “Tell us more,” you prompt, leaning in as if genuinely interested. “How do you plan to pull this off?”

Glances are exchanged among the men, a clear sign of their satisfaction with the interest you seem to show.

“It’s quite simple, really,” the stocky man begins. “We’ve been gathering resources and allies from around the world. The most powerful minds, the wealthiest families—all united by a common goal.”

“And once we’ve secured enough support,” the silver-haired man continues, “we’ll make our move. We’ll target key mutant populations, taking them out in a way that will serve as a warning to others. Public displays, executions—whatever it takes to make them fear us.”

You keep your voice steady, despite the chill that runs down your spine, as you reply, “That’s… quite an undertaking.”

The men chuckle, mistaking your hesitation for awe. “It is. But it’s necessary. And with people like you on our side, we’ll be unstoppable.”

Logan smirks. “Count us in.”

The men smile, delighted with what they believe is newfound support. Logan hates every second of it—despises having to play along with these monsters. But he knows you both have to get more intel before you can make a move. The mission has to come first, even if it means playing nice with the enemy.

“Excuse us,” you say smoothly, grabbing Logan’s hand and glancing at him with a look that says it’s time to go. “We need to discuss a few things, but we’ll be in touch.”

The men nod, distracted by their own plotting as you and Logan step away, moving toward one of the less populated hallways. As soon as you’re out of earshot, Logan exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

“I need to tell Scott what we just heard,” you murmur quietly, “They’re planning something big, and we don’t have much time.”

Logan nods, his hand squeezing yours as you walk down the hallway. “I’ll keep watch. Make it quick.”

You find a secluded spot near a corner, pulling out the small communicator you’ve hidden in your purse. Quickly, you begin to relay the crucial information to Scott and Hank back at the X-Mansion, your voice hushed but urgent as you detail the plans you’ve overheard. Logan stands nearby, his senses on high alert, his gaze sweeping the hallway for any sign of trouble.

It’s too quiet.

The hair on the back of his neck stands up, instincts prickling with the sense that something is wrong. He turns to you, about to suggest wrapping things up when he hears it—a faint noise, like the subtle shifting of fabric, imperceptible to anyone without enhanced hearing.

Logan’s eyes dart toward the source of the sound, muscles tensing as he spots movement down the hall. “We’ve got company,” he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.

You quickly finish your transmission, tucking the communicator back into its spot in your purse. “How many?”

“Too many,” Logan mutters, his claws itching to come out. “We need to move. Now.”

It’s too late. A group of security guards rounds the corner before either of you can make a break for it. Their eyes lock onto you with suspicion, and you can see the realization dawning in their expressions. Logan immediately steps in front of you, his body a solid wall of protection.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” one of the guards says, his hand resting on the weapon at his hip. “Who are you?”

Logan forces a grin, trying to buy some time. “Just lost our way. We were headin’ back to the ballroom.”

The guard’s eyes narrow, evidently not buying it. “I don’t think so. You two don’t seem to belong here.”

Another guard steps forward before Logan has time to respond, pulling out a device that emits a faint, ominous hum. The man waves it over you, and Logan’s heart sinks as the device beeps loudly, flashing red.

“Mutants,” the guard spits, his voice filled with disgust as he steps closer, his hand reaching out to grab you. “We’ve got ourselves some freaks here, boys.”

A wave of panic surges through you, but you shove it down, focusing on the cosmic energy you can feel crackling at your fingertips. Summoning all your strength, you swing a fist, aiming to land a powerful, energy-charged punch straight into the guard’s face.

But just as you make your move, another guard from your other side grabs your wrist mid-swing and your other arm, twisting them behind your back with brutal precision. The cosmic energy fizzles out instantly, your powers rendered useless by the anti-mutant handcuffs that snap around your wrists with a harsh click. The cold metal bites into your skin, and you feel immense fear crawl its way through your body as you realize how vulnerable you are without your powers, or the use of your arms.

“Nice try, sweetheart,” the guard sneers in your ear, his grip on your arm painfully tight as he shoves you forward. “But you’re not going anywhere.”

Logan’s eyes widen in fury as he sees the guard cuff you, his body trembling with the effort to keep his rage in check. “Let her go,” he snarls, his voice dangerously heavy.

The guard only grins, tightening his hold on you. “Or what, freak? You gonna bark? Gonna bite?”

Logan’s claws shoot out with a metallic shink, the sound echoing through the hallway. He takes a step forward, the feral side of him failing to suppress itself as he glares at the guards with deadly intent. “Last warning. Let. Her. Go.”

Instead of backing down, the guards react with eager viciousness. The one holding you shoves you hard against the wall, his leg sticking out to block your own, pinning you in place. Some others step forward, one landing a brutal punch to your stomach, the force of it knocking the wind out of you. The world tilts, and pain explodes in your ribs as another guard’s boot connects with your side.

Logan sees red.

Something primal surges within him, the instinct to protect you overwhelming every other thought. With a roar that shakes the walls, he launches himself at the guards, his claws slicing through the first one with a sickening crunch. Blood splatters across the floor as Logan tears through them with a ferocity that is terrifying to witness.

He moves like a whirlwind of rage, his claws ripping through flesh and bone with savage efficiency. The guards don’t stand a chance against him, but even as he fights, more of them swarm in, trying to overwhelm him with sheer numbers.

“Logan!” you cry out, the fear and pain you feel palpable as you struggle to get free. The guard holding you down slams your head against the wall, and stars burst behind your eyes as the world blurs.

Logan spins around, his eyes wild as he sees you slumped against the wall, blood trickling from your nose, eyes fighting to stay open. The sight of you being beaten, helpless and vulnerable, sends him into a frenzy. He slashes through another guard in his way, his claws dripping with blood as he tries to tear through their ranks.

However, his efforts are futile, the guards are relentless. Their numbers never dwindle, if anything, more and more seem to join the fight. They pile onto him, using their advantage, holding him down to the ground. Logan fights with everything he has, but even he has limits. He can feel the weight of them pressing down on him, can feel his strength waning as they force him to the ground.

“Logan!” you call his name again, breaking through the chaos. He can see you being dragged from the scene, your wrists bound, your eyes locked on his as they pull you farther and farther away.

“NO!” He roars, his voice breaking as he thrashes against the guards holding him down. He has to get to you—he has to save you.

Yet the more he fights, the more they press down, their combined weight and force overwhelming even his enhanced strength. They slam his head against the cold floor, pain exploding through his skull as his vision begins to fade. The last thing he sees before everything goes dark is your terrified face, the way your lips form his name, and the cold, cruel hands dragging you away into the shadows.

And then, nothing.

----

Logan wakes up to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the distant sound of beeping monitors. His head pounds, and every muscle in his body aches as if he’s been through a war—and in some ways, he has. Groaning, he tries to sit up, but a firm hand presses him back down.

“Easy, Logan,” comes Hank’s calm, reassuring voice. “You’ve been out for a while.”

Logan blinks, his vision slowly coming into focus. He’s in the med bay, the familiar white walls and harsh fluorescent lights greeting him. Once he finally comes to his senses, and he remembers the events that transpired the previous night, he realizes none of that matters. The only thing he cares about is you.

“Where is she?” he demands as he struggles against Hank’s hold.

Hank’s expression softens with pity and concern. “She’s… Logan, they took her. We’re doing everything we can to track her down, but—”

Panic jolts through Logan like a bolt of electricity, drowning out the rest of what Hank is saying. His eyes burn as he wrenches himself free from Hank’s grasp, his voice a gruff, dangerous snarl.

“How the hell did you get me out but leave her behind? You’re telling me you saved my sorry ass and couldn’t save her?”

Hank hesitates, his features morphing into a pained look, “It wasn’t like that. We were overwhelmed. There were too many of them, and you—”

“I don’t wanna hear excuses!” Logan cries, his words echoing off the walls as he slams a fist down on the bed. The metal frame groans under the force of his anger.

At that moment, Charles Xavier wheels in, his imposing presence immediately felt within the confines of the small room. He speaks calmly, trying to cut through the fog clouding Logan’s mind. “Logan, we did everything we could. It was hard enough getting just you. We had no choice but to retreat. If we hadn’t, we might have lost you both.”

Logan’s glare could’ve burned holes through steel as he turns to Charles, nostrils flaring.

“I don’t give a damn about me! She’s out there, alone, with those bastards, and I wasn’t there to stop it. I should’ve been able to protect her.”

His fists clench, his knuckles turning white as he struggles to contain the whirlwind of emotions tearing through him. Guilt eats him from the inside out. The thought of you suffering because he wasn’t there to protect you… “You–We…We left her behind,” he mutters, voice cracking.

Charles’s voice is firm but compassionate as he addresses the younger mutant. “You need to rest and regain your strength. When the time comes, you’ll be ready to get her back—but you can’t do that if you’re broken.”

Jaw tightening, Logan leans his body forward, holding his head in his hands. His temper is boiling, he wants to tear everything apart until there is nothing left, but he knows, deep down, that Charles is right. And as much as it kills him, he has to bide his time, to heal and prepare for what is to come.

But that doesn’t make it any easier.

“Hank, get out,” he growls, “Get out before I lose it.”

Hank exchanges a worried glance with Charles before reluctantly nodding. “We’ll find her, Logan. I promise.”

After Hank leaves the room, Logan sinks back onto the bed, his chest heaving with the effort to keep himself from exploding. His eyes bore into Charles’s, who remains, silently offering his support.

“When we find her,” he says, his voice low and full of promise, “there’s no holding back. I’m done waiting, done with all the excuses. She’s mine, and I’m not letting anything or anyone take her away from me again.”

----

The first thing you feel is the cold—icy, unforgiving, and seeping into your bones. Your head pounds, a dull, persistent ache that makes it hard to think, let alone move. When you try to lift your hands, you realize they are restrained, heavy iron chains biting into your wrists and pulling your arms taut above your head.

You jump to your senses, sharp and immediate, as you force your eyes open. The world is a blur at first, everything spinning and distorted. Then, as your vision clears, the reality of your situation hits you like a slap in the face.

You are in a cell. The walls are made of rough stone, the floor damp and filthy. There is barely any light, just a dim bulb hanging from the ceiling, flickering occasionally and casting long shadows that dance across the room. Your dress—the one you’d worn to the gala—is torn, the delicate fabric shredded and hanging off you in tatters. You can see your own blood between the patches that reveal your skin. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and a deep sense of dread settles in your stomach.

You try to pull against the chains, but your limbs are weak, your movements sluggish. They must have drugged you—this realization makes your heart race, fear clawing at your throat. You have no idea how long you’ve been out, no idea where you are or what they plan to do to you.

A sound from the other side of the cell catches your attention—laughter, low and mocking. You turn your head, the movement sending another wave of dizziness through your skull. Two guards stand just outside the bars, their faces twisted in cruel amusement.

“Look who’s finally awake,” one of them sneers with malice. “The mutant bitch.”

The words sting, but you refuse to show it. You force yourself to sit up straighter, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as you can muster. “Where am I?” you demand, your voice hoarse and shaky.

The guard laughs again, louder this time. “You’re in hell, sweetheart. And there’s no way out.”

His companion, a stockier man with a scar running down his cheek, steps forward, his eyes raking over you with a look that makes your skin crawl. “The boss is real interested in you, you know. He’s got plans,” he smiles, “Big plans.”

You swallow hard, fighting to keep your composure. “What do you want with me?”

“Oh, it ain’t about what we want,” the scarred guard replies, a disgusting grin spreading across his face. “It’s about what you can do. For us. You mutants think you’re so special, so powerful. But look at you now—all chained up and helpless.”

He reaches through the bars, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head back. Pain shoots through your scalp, but you bite your lip, refusing to cry out. You won’t give them the satisfaction.

“Let go of me,” you hiss.

The guard’s grin widens as he leans closer, his breath hot and foul against your skin. “Make me, sweetheart. Oh, wait—you can’t.”

He laughs again, muttering to the other guard about how satisfying this is, and you feel a wave of nausea rise in your throat. You can feel the energy within you, your power that usually simmers just beneath the surface, always ready to be called upon. But now, it’s like a distant echo, muted and weak. The chains—they must be suppressing your abilities, keeping you from using your mutation.

“Your little tricks won’t work here,” the first guard taunts, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. “Those chains are special, made just for freaks like you. No powers, no escape.”

You are trapped, powerless, at the mercy of these men and whoever their leader is. You know you can’t let them see your fear. You can’t let them break you.

“I’ll get out of here,” you say, keeping your voice level despite the terror gnawing at your insides. “And when I do, you’ll regret this.”

The guards exchange a glance, then burst into laughter, the sound grating and harsh in the confined space.

“Big talk for someone who’s all chained up,” the scarred guard says, releasing his grip on your hair with a rough shove that sends you sprawling back against the wall.

“You’re not getting out,” the first guard adds, his tone more serious now. “No one’s coming for you. Your friends probably think you’re dead already. It’s been days.”

For a moment, your resolve falters. What if they are right? What if the team thinks you’re gone, or worse—what if they can’t find you? But then you think of Logan, of the fierce determination in his eyes, the way he’d fought for you before. No, they wouldn’t abandon you. He wouldn’t abandon you.

“They’ll find me,” you say, the conviction in your voice surprising even you.

The guards don’t laugh this time. The scarred one scowls, stepping back from the bars. “Keep dreaming, mutant. You’re ours now.”

With that, they turn and leave, their footsteps echoing down the corridor until they fade into silence. You are alone again, the cell’s walls pressing in from all sides. Yet despite the fear, despite the pain, you hold onto that sliver of hope, that image of Logan and the others coming to your rescue.

You aren’t going to give up. Not now, not ever.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. The drugs are still in your system, making it hard to concentrate, but you won’t let that stop you. You start to tug at the chains again, testing their strength, trying to find any weakness, any way to break free.

It is agonizing, and with every movement, the metal digs deeper into your skin, drawing blood. But the pain keeps you focused, keeps you from slipping into despair. You have to keep going. You have to believe that Logan will come for you.

And when he does, you will be ready.

----

Weeks pass since that fateful night at the gala, weeks that feel like an eternity to Logan. Each day that you remain missing is another day of excruciating uncertainty, each hour that ticks by another reminder of his failure to protect you. The mansion, usually a place of camaraderie and purpose, has become a suffocating prison where he is forced to wait and hope—two things he has never been good at.

Charles Xavier is relentless in his search, utilizing every resource, every connection, and every ounce of his telepathic abilities to track down the organization that has taken you. The X-Men work tirelessly alongside him, scouring the globe for any trace, any whisper, that could lead them to you. Logan is a constant presence in the war room, his patience worn thin by the endless dead ends and false leads. He’s ready to go after them with nothing but his claws and a vendetta, but Charles insists on a plan, a strategy that won’t just rescue you but will dismantle the threat for good.

Finally, after weeks of frustration and relentless searching, they find something—a lead that could change everything.

Charles is in his study, surrounded by a tangle of maps, files, and reports, his mind stretched to its limits as he sifts through the chaotic swirl of information. Then, in the quiet hours of the night, he finds it—a faint, almost non-existent mental signature, hidden deep within the shadows of his mind. It’s the psychic equivalent of a whisper, a delicate thread that, when tugged, reveals a location: a remote island, far off the coast, where the organization has set up a secret base.

This base, as he quickly pieces together, is where they are holding you, along with other mutants they have captured. It’s heavily fortified, nearly impossible to reach by conventional means, and shielded against most telepathic detection. The mental signature he finds slips through only because it’s so faint, a brief lapse in their otherwise impenetrable defenses.

Charles spends days verifying the information, cross-referencing it with the intelligence they’ve gathered over the weeks. Every detail lines up—this is it. This is where they have taken you, and this is where they will launch their attack.

With the location confirmed, Charles knows he has to get the team together and act. Act fast.

----

Time loses all meaning in the cold, dark cell where you are held captive. The days and nights blur together, an endless cycle of hunger, pain, and hopelessness. The cold stone walls, once foreboding, have become your only companions, and the silence is a constant reminder of how alone you are.

Your dress is taken hours after you awake, replaced with a rough, beige prison uniform that itches against your skin. The fabric is thin, offering little protection against the freezing temperature. Your wrists and ankles ache from the tight cuffs they keep you in most of the time, the metal leaving angry red marks that never seem to fade.

They barely feed you—just enough to keep you alive, but never enough to give you any real strength. The meals are a cruel joke, infrequent and consisting of nothing more than stale bread and murky water that tastes like rust.

What makes it truly unbearable isn’t the food itself; it’s the way you are forced to consume it.

Chained to the wall, your arms shackled above your head, you can’t even feed yourself. Every day, like clockwork, one of the guards enters your cell, a twisted smirk on his face as he carries a small, dented tray of food. He kneels beside you, holding the bread just out of reach, as if daring you to try and grab it.

“Hungry?” he taunts, waving the bread in front of your face. “You look like you could use a bite.”

You glare at him, your stomach growling with hunger, but you refuse to beg. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing how desperate you are. In the end, your body’s needs always win out, and you reluctantly part your lips, letting him shove the stale, crumbling bread into your mouth.

The guard never makes it easy. He pushes the bread in too far, making you gag, or holds it just out of reach, forcing you to strain against your chains, the metal digging painfully into your wrists. When it comes time for the water, he tilts the cup too quickly, spilling most of it down your chin, leaving you with just a few precious drops to quench your thirst.

“Pathetic,” he mutters, wiping the spilled water off your face with the back of his hand in a mockery of kindness. “Can’t even eat without help.”

You swallow the bread, the dry crumbs scraping down your throat, doing your best to keep from choking. The water that follows is barely enough to wash it down, leaving your mouth dry and your hunger only partially sated.

It’s a humiliating, degrading experience, one that leaves you feeling even more powerless than the chains ever could. And that’s exactly what the guards want. Each meal is an exercise in control, a reminder that you are at their mercy, that they hold all the power.

Somehow, that still isn’t the worst of it all.

Guards come daily, sometimes in pairs, sometimes alone, always with that same twisted grin on their faces. You have learned to anticipate their visits, to prepare yourself for the taunts, the jeers, and the beatings that inevitably follow. They seem to take pleasure in your suffering, their laughter echoing off the walls as they deliver blow after blow, leaving you gasping for breath on the cold, hard floor.

Every time they come, they mock you, their voices dripping with contempt. “Where are your precious X-Men now, huh? Guess they forgot about you. Must be nice knowing no one cares enough to come get you.”

You bite your lip, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you break. But inside, the doubt begins to creep in. How long has it been? Weeks, maybe more? Surely they would have found you by now. Surely Logan is out there, tearing the world apart to find you. But as the days drag on and the beatings continue, it becomes harder to hold onto that hope.

One day, after an especially brutal session where they leave you bruised and bleeding on the floor, you find yourself laughing—a bitter, hollow sound that startles even you.

“What’s so funny?” one of the guards sneers, looking down at you with a scowl.

You lift your head, your gaze locking onto his, something defiant sparking in your eyes despite the pain. “Do you guys get off on seeing people in pain? Is this a fetish or something?”

The guard’s expression darkens with disdain, and he steps forward, delivering a swift kick to your side that makes you gasp, the air rushing out of your lungs. “Shut up!” he barks.

You cough, tasting blood on your lips, but you can’t stop the words that tumble out. “Is that all you’ve got?” you rasp, pushing yourself up onto your elbows despite the throbbing in your ribs. “I’m starting to think you’re not very good at this.”

The guard’s face twists into a snarl, and he raises his hand to strike you again, but the other guard grabs his arm, pulling him back. “Enough,” the second guard says, though his voice is more cautious now. “We’re not supposed to kill her. Not yet.”

They leave you there, crumpled on the floor, your body aching. As much as it hurts, as much as the beatings wear you down, you cling to that small act of defiance. They haven’t broken you. Not yet.

----

The tension in the war room is suffocating, the air thick with urgency and dread. The X-Men gather around the long, sleek table, the holographic map of the enemy compound glowing in the center, casting an eerie blue light across their faces. Scott stands at the head of the table, his expression stern as he outlines possible infiltration points, while Jean, Ororo, and Hank listen intently.

Logan sits at the far end, his posture rigid, every muscle in his body coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. He doesn’t want to be here—doesn’t want to waste time with plans and strategies when all he can think about is you. But he knows that going off on his own, especially in his current state, would only end in disaster. So he forces himself to stay, to listen, even though every second feels like a waste.

His hands clench into fists on the table, his knuckles turning white. He can barely focus on Scott’s words, his mind consumed with images of you—frightened, abandoned, injured. The thought makes his blood boil, his claws itching to extend and tear through anything in his path.

“Logan,” Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “Are you with us?”

He glances up, meeting her concerned gaze. He knows she can feel his turmoil, his barely restrained anger, and that only makes him more frustrated.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he snaps.

Ororo shoots him a warning look. “We need to stay focused, Logan. Losing your temper won’t help her.”

Logan grits his teeth, biting back the retort that rises to his lips. He knows she’s right, but that doesn’t make it any easier to control the storm of emotions raging inside him. “Just tell me when we’re movin’,” he growls, his tone laced with impatience. “I’m not sittin’ around any longer while they’ve got her.”

“We all want to find her, Logan,” Scott says, “But we have to do this right. If we go in guns blazing, we could get her killed.”

“And if we wait too long, she’ll be dead anyway.”

“Logan,” Hank interjects, trying to be the voice of reason. “Scott’s right. We have to be smart about this. We’re dealing with people who have resources, power, and a deep-seated hatred for mutants. They’ll be expecting us.”

Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts again, this time in his mind, her telepathy reaching out to him. Logan, I know how much she means to you. We’re doing everything we can to bring her back. Trust us.

He shoots her a glare, not appreciating the intrusion, but he doesn’t push her away. Jean has always been the one who could reach him, even when he’s at his most stubborn. I’m not lettin’ them keep her from me any longer, Jean, he thinks back, his mental voice raw with emotion.

You won’t, Jean replies, her mental tone firm but soothing. We won’t let that happen. But you need to stay with us, Logan. We’re stronger together.

“What’s the plan?” he asks, breaking his stupor.

Charles exchanges a glance with Scott, who nods and steps forward to explain. “We’ll approach under the cover of night. Ororo will create a storm to mask our presence, and we’ll use the Blackbird to drop in undetected. Jean and I will handle disabling their telepathic defenses so we can get a read on the situation inside. Hank will take out their communications to prevent them from calling for reinforcements.”

“And me?” Logan growls, his eyes locked on the island’s location.

“You’ll be leading the assault,” Scott replies without hesitation. He can sense the violent need rattling within Logan’s bones—craving to avenge you. “Once we’ve neutralized the outer defenses, you and I will go in together. Our primary objective is to get her out—everything else is secondary. We can always go back to finish the job."

Logan’s fists clench at his sides, his claws itching to be released.

“When do we leave?”

“Tonight,” Charles answers from where he sits at the table. “We’ve waited long enough.”

Logan remains by the map while the team disperses and begins to prepare, his eyes fixed on the small island in the middle of the vast ocean. This is it. After weeks of waiting, weeks of imagining the worst, he finally has a chance to make things right.

He can almost feel the cold metal of the anti-mutant handcuffs around your wrists, the bruises on your skin from the guards’ brutality. The thought makes him see red, but beneath the rage is something even more powerful—a fierce determination to see you safe, to get you out of there and back where you belong.

Logan will lead the charge, and God help anyone who stands in his way.

As the team assembles, suited up and ready for the mission, Charles wheels over to Logan, placing a hand on his arm. “We’ll bring her home, Logan. And we’ll make sure this never happens again.”

He nods, the fire in his eyes burning brighter than ever. “We will,” he says, a dangerous growl clawing its way out of his throat, “And when I get my hands on them, they’ll wish they’d never laid a finger on her.”

With that, the team boards the Blackbird, the weight of the mission pressing down on them as they soar into the night. The storm Ororo has summoned rages around them, the skies dark and foreboding, as they approach the island. Every second brings them closer to the moment of reckoning, and Logan’s focus sharpens to a razor’s edge.

“I’m comin’ for ya, darlin’,” he murmurs under his breath, the words a promise to himself as much as to you. “Just hold on.”

----

“Approaching the drop zone,” Ororo’s calm voice comes over the comms, though the storm she controls outside is anything but calm. Lightning splits the sky, momentarily illuminating the jagged cliffs of the remote island below, their destination hidden within the darkness.

Scott cuts through the tension. “Alright, everyone. Remember the plan. Jean, Ororo, and I will handle the outer defenses. Hank, take out their communications. Logan and I will lead the assault inside. Our primary objective is to find her and get her out.”

Logan barely nods, his eyes locked on the ramp as it begins to lower. The cold wind whips through the interior of the Blackbird, carrying with it the scent of the sea and the earth below. And underneath it all, Logan can smell them—guards, weapons, blood.

“Ready?” Scott asks, glancing at Logan.

His response is a rough, feral growl. “Let’s do this.”

With a sharp nod, Scott activates the drop sequence, and Logan is the first out, dropping into the storm with the grace of a true predator. He lands in a crouch, claws out, eyes scanning the perimeter. The island is as fortified as they feared, with high walls, watchtowers, and heavily armed guards patrolling the grounds.

But none of that matters. He has one focus, one goal: finding you.

The rest of the team lands behind him, moving quickly, quietly, and efficiently. Ororo raises her hands to the sky, intensifying the storm, the wind and rain becoming a blinding force that conceals their approach. Lightning arcs overhead, briefly turning night into day, revealing the outlines of guards scrambling to respond to the sudden onslaught.

Scott gives the signal to move in, and the team splits up, each member heading to their designated targets. Jean and Ororo focus on the outer defenses, disorienting the guards with telepathic illusions and powerful gusts of wind. Hank slips into the shadows, his agile form disappearing into the underbrush as he makes his way to the communications hub.

The Wolverine moves like a shadow, traversing the rain-soaked night with deadly silence. He can feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, every sense heightened as he approaches the main compound. The guards are on high alert, but they are no match for the X-Men. He watches as Jean’s telepathy turns their own weapons against them, as Scott’s optic blasts tear through their defenses.

But as the team advances, the guards regroup, their numbers swelling as they pour out of the compound. They aren’t going down without a fight. Logan spots a heavily armed squad taking position near a turret, their weapons trained on the team. They open fire, a barrage of bullets slicing through the air.

“Jean!” Scott shouts.

Jean extends her hands, a telekinetic shield flaring to life just in time to deflect the incoming fire. The bullets bounce off harmlessly, but the force of the attack makes it clear this isn’t going to be easy. The guards are better prepared than expected, their movements coordinated, their strategy clear: delay the X-Men as long as possible.

Logan growls in frustration, his claws itching to tear through the enemy lines. “We need to move, now!” he snarls, his voice barely audible over the storm.

Ororo nods, her eyes glowing white as she summons a powerful gust of wind, sending the guards sprawling. Scott seizes the moment, firing a series of blasts that take out the turret and send the remaining guards scattering. Still, even as they advance, more guards appear, swarming from every direction.

Hank emerges from the shadows, his blue fur slick with rain as he tackles a group of guards attempting to flank the team. He moves with agility and precision, disarming them with brutal efficiency before disappearing into the darkness once more.

Logan pushes forward, his senses locked on the main compound. Every muscle in his body is taut, ready to react, as he closes in on the entrance. But the resistance only grows fiercer the closer they get. A squad of heavily armored guards appears, their rifles spitting fire as they advance in formation.

“Ororo, cover us!”

Ororo unleashes a torrent of lightning, the bolts crackling through the air and striking the guards with dead-set accuracy. It’s almost like a scene from the gala, the guards coming in endless waves, their numbers never faltering.

Logan’s patience snaps. He shoots forward, his claws slicing through the rain, his cry echoing across the battlefield. He crashes into the line of guards, tearing through their armor as if it were paper. Blood splatters the ground, the metallic scent mixing with the rain as Logan carves a path through the enemy.

Scott and Jean are right behind him, their combined powers devastating the remaining guards. But the compound is heavily fortified, and as Logan bursts through the first door, a new wave of guards meets them head-on.

These are the elite, the best of the best, and they fight with a cold, calculated precision that makes them more dangerous than the others. Jean’s telepathy is their saving grace. She reaches into the minds of the guards, sowing confusion and fear, turning their own thoughts against them. But the strain is visible on her face, the effort of controlling so many minds at once taking its toll.

“Jean, hold on!” Scott calls.

“I’m… trying,” Jean gasps, her voice strained.

Logan knows they can’t keep this up. They have to find you, and they have to do it fast. He slams his claws into another door, splintering it into pieces, only to be met with a hail of gunfire from the guards inside. He ducks, rolling to the side as Scott’s optic blasts provide cover, the two of them working in tandem to clear the room.

“Move!” Scott shouts, and Logan surges forward, his claws tearing through the last of the guards in the corridor.

The air is thick with the smell of blood and gunpowder, but Logan doesn’t care. He can hear it—the faint sound of muffled cries, the rattling of chains. His heart pounds in his chest as he moves forward, faster now, driven by the desperate need to reach you.

Then he sees it: two hulking mercenaries guarding a heavy steel door. They are well-armed, and this time, their eyes hold no uncertainty. These are the final line of defense, the ones meant to stop anyone from getting to you.

They open fire, the bullets ricocheting off the walls, but Logan is too fast, too eager to be reunited with you. He ducks and weaves, his claws gleaming as he closes the distance. With a guttural roar, he leaps at them, his claws slashing through flesh and bone with a sickening crunch. The guards crumple to the ground, lifeless, as Logan stands over them, his chest heaving with exertion.

Without wasting a second, Logan slams his claws into the door, the metal screeching as it gives way under the force of his rage. He rips the door off its hinges, tossing it aside as if it weighs nothing. Inside, the air is heavy with the smell of damp stone and fear. And there, in the dim light of the small cell, he sees you—chained, battered, but alive.

You are slumped against the far wall of a small, dank cell, your wrists bound with the anti-mutant handcuffs, your body bruised and battered. The sight of you, so broken and vulnerable, makes Logan’s heart twist with desperation and longing. All of his fury immediately floods out of his system. He crosses the room in two strides, his claws retracting as he kneels beside you, his hands trembling as he reaches out to touch your face.

“Hey, darlin’,” he whispers, “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

You stir at the sound of his voice, your eyes fluttering open as you try to focus. When you see him, a weak smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Logan…”

“Shh,” he soothes, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m gettin’ you outta here.”

He quickly reaches for the handcuffs, his claws slicing through the metal with ease. The moment they fall away, you feel a sudden surge of power within you, like a dam breaking, your abilities rushing back after being suppressed for so long. You slump forward into his arms, too weak to hold yourself up. Logan’s heart breaks at the feel of your frail body against his, but he holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

“Can you walk?”

You nod, though it’s clear the effort costs you. “I… I think so.”

Logan helps you to your feet, his arm supporting you as you lean heavily against him. Every step is a struggle, but he’s right there with you. Making your way out of the cell, the sounds of battle grow louder, the chaos of the X-Men’s assault reaching its peak.

“We gotta move fast,” Logan mutters tensely, “But I’m not lettin’ go of you. We’re gettin’ outta here together.”

He keeps a firm grip on you, his entire focus on getting you out of this hellhole. The whole island around you is in shambles, the walls of your prison shaking with the force of explosions and the sharp crack of energy blasts. The X-Men are relentless, cutting down the remaining guards with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine. Scott and Hank’s voices echo through the comms, issuing orders and coordinating the team’s movements.

Everything fades into the background—the sounds of battle, the flashes of light, the scent of blood and smoke.

All Logan can concentrate on is the fragile feel of your hand in his, your fingers moving shakily against his rough skin, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you struggle to keep going.

“Stay with me, darlin’,” he rasps, urging you, “We’re almost out. Just hold on a little longer.”

Your fingers tighten around his, as if letting go would mean losing him again. The two of you move as one, your bodies pressed together as you navigate through the debris and destruction. The storm outside mirrors the one within him, but as long as you’re with him, he knows he can weather it.

When the exit finally comes into view, the cold night air hits you both, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat of the compound. The Blackbird is waiting, its ramp lowered, and the sight of it brings a surge of relief so powerful it nearly buckles your knees. But Logan is there, his arm wrapped securely around you, practically carrying you up the ramp.

Finally in the jet, the familiar hum of the engines fills the cabin, a soothing backdrop to the storm raging outside. Neither of you cares about the storm or the battle left behind. The only thing that matters is that you’re together.

Logan guides you to a seat, but instead of sitting beside you, he pulls you into his lap, holding you as close as he can. You don’t resist, your arms wrapping around his neck, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. In many ways, he is.

Hank approaches, concern etched across his face, but Logan barely glances at him. His focus is entirely on you, his hand brushing your hair back from your face, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that have begun to fall—not from pain, but from the overwhelming relief of being safe, of being with him.

“You’re safe now,” he murmurs, his lips pressing soft, reassuring kisses into your hair. “I’ve got you. I’m not lettin’ you go.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, your tears soaking into his shirt as you cling to him. Each touch, every whispered word, acts like a balm to the wounds you have endured. You can feel the tension in his muscles, the way his heart pounds against your chest.

“I knew you’d come… but you guys took a lot longer than I was expecting,” you whisper, trying to bring a hint of your usual humor into your voice, “made me look a little stupid in front of those guards.”

Logan’s arms tighten around you. “I’m here, sweets. I’m right here. And I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He continues to kiss your hair, his rough, calloused hands gently cradling your face as he wipes away your tears. Neither of you wants to let go, the fear of losing each other again too fresh, too real.

Logan’s lips brush against your temple, a tender, lingering kiss that conveys more than words ever could. “I’ve got you,” he repeats, over and over again. “Nothin’s gonna happen to you again.”

You nod, unable to speak, but your grip on him tightens, your heart finally beginning to calm as you rest in his arms. For the first time since your capture, you feel safe. Truly safe. And it’s all because of him.

----

Returning to the mansion after the rescue is a blur of activity, concern, and overwhelming relief. The moment you touch down, you’re rushed to the med bay, surrounded by familiar faces, each one filled with a mixture of worry and hope.

The sterile white walls of the med bay feel oddly comforting now, compared to the cold, damp cell you were held in. You’re laid gently on a bed, Hank and Jean immediately setting to work, checking your vitals, assessing your injuries. Their voices are calm and reassuring, but you barely hear them. Your mind is still reeling, your body still trembling from the whole ordeal.

Logan never leaves your side. Even as Hank and Jean move around you, speaking in low tones about your condition, he’s there, a grounding force. He holds your hand through it all, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. Whenever your eyes flutter open, his are there, locked on yours, filled with a fierce protectiveness that makes your heart ache.

Hank and Jean make sure you’re well-fed, insisting on regular meals to help you regain your strength. Plates of warm, nourishing food are brought to you, and though you have little appetite at first, Logan’s gentle encouragement coaxes you to eat. He sits with you, holding your hand while you slowly nibble at the food, his deep voice murmuring soft words of reassurance and comfort.

“Just a little more, darlin’,” he says, his tone comforting. “You need to get your strength back.”

You nod, taking another bite, the warmth of the food spreading through you, bringing with it a sense of safety and normalcy that you hadn’t felt in what seems like forever.

Nights are the hardest. The darkness brings with it the memories of the cell, the guards, the pain, and the fear. You often wake in a panic, your heart racing, the shadows of the past closing in around you. But every time, Logan is there, pulling you into his arms, whispering reassurances until the terror subsides.

Logan, for his part, is dealing with his own demons. You can see it in the way his jaw tightens when he thinks you aren’t looking, the way his eyes darken when he hears you gasp in pain or when your hand trembles as you reach for something. He’s haunted by what happened, by the fact that he hadn’t been able to protect you from the start. You know he’s carrying a heavy burden of guilt, and it tears at your heart to see him so troubled.

He tries to hide it, of course—tries to be strong for you. However, in the quiet moments, when the mansion is still and the only sound is the soft beep of the heart monitor, he lets his guard down. He sits beside you, his head bowed, his hand holding yours as if afraid you might slip away if he lets go. And in those moments, you can see the depth of his pain, the way it eats at him from the inside.

On one occasion, after a particularly vivid nightmare leaves you shaky and breathless, Logan pulls you into his lap, holding you close as he murmurs words of comfort. As you cry, he holds you tighter, his voice breaking as he whispers, “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your heart breaking at the sight of the tears in his eyes. “Logan, it wasn’t your fault,” you say, as many times as you need to, if it means he’ll stop feeling this way. “You saved me. You found me.”

He shakes his head, his grip on you tightening as if trying to anchor himself. “I should have been there sooner. I should have—”

“No,” you interrupt, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You did everything you could. You saved me. You brought me home.”

His eyes close at your words, a single tear slipping down his cheek. “I can’t lose you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

“You won’t,” you promise, and you mean it.

----

When you’re finally discharged from the med bay, it feels like a victory—a hard-won battle that leaves you both relieved and eager to reclaim your life. Your strength has returned, slowly but surely, and now, after weeks of healing and recovery, you’re ready to start training again. The thought of moving your body, of pushing your limits, fills you with a renewed sense of purpose.

But there’s one thing you hadn’t counted on—Logan.

Ever since the rescue, he’s been by your side, a constant, unyielding presence. At first, you appreciated it—you truly did—his steady support, his silent vigilance, the way he seemed to always know when you needed a comforting word or a strong arm to lean on. Yet now, as you step back into the training room, ready to test your limits again, his presence is starting to feel more like a shadow you can’t shake.

“Logan,” you say, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice as you stretch, your muscles still tight from the weeks of inactivity. “You don’t have to watch me like a hawk. I’m fine. Really.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall, his sharp eyes never leaving you. The intensity of his gaze is almost suffocating.

“I know. You’re strong,” he finally says, “But that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna stand by and let you push yourself too hard.”

You sigh, rolling your shoulders as you turn to face him fully. “I’m not made of glass. I need to do this. I need to get back to where I was. The fight isn't finished.”

He pushes off the wall, his expression hardening as he takes a step closer to you. “And I’m not sayin’ you can’t. I just… I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

Something in his voice makes you pause, the frustration fading away as you look at him more closely. There’s a tension in his posture, tension that hadn’t been there before, and the way he’s looking at you—it isn’t just concern. It’s something deeper.

“I’m not alone,” you assure him. “I’ve got the whole team behind me. I’ve got you.”

He holds your gaze for a long moment, letting the moment pass between you, and then he exhales deeply, as if bracing himself for what he’s about to say. “You know, when you were gone… I told Charles I wouldn’t hold back anymore.”

His words catch you off guard, and your brow furrows in confusion. “Hold back?”

Logan takes another step closer, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right way to explain.

“I told him that if we found you, if we got you back safe… I wasn’t gonna keep my feelings locked up anymore. I’ve been doin’ it for too long, and when I almost lost you… it made me realize I can’t keep pretending I don’t care as much as I do.”

You know what he’s trying to say. The charged energy between you, all the banter—it was never just friendly. It was more than that—something neither of you had ever acknowledged out loud, but it was there. You’d never been just teammates, and deep down, you both understood that.

He reaches out, taking your hand in his, his grip firm but gentle. “I’m in love with you,” he confesses, his voice deep and hoarse, filled with all the emotion he’s kept bottled up for so long. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, but I was too damn stubborn to admit it. But after what happened, after goin' through all that…”

He lets his voice trail off. Your heart pounds in your chest, the truth of his words resonating deep within you. You’ve always sensed the undercurrent of something more between you two, something that made every shared glance, every sarcastic quip, feel like a promise unfulfilled. Hearing Logan finally admit it, finally put words to what had always been there, makes your breath catch, your mind soar with joy.

“I know,” you confess back, “I think I’ve always known. But I was afraid to push, afraid to break whatever it was we had. I’ve felt it too. I always have.”

Logan’s eyes widen slightly at your confession, relief flooding his features, the hard lines of tension softening as if a great burden has been lifted from his shoulders. For a long, heart-stopping moment, the two of you just stare at each other.

Then, as if pulled together by the same magnetic force, you and Logan surge forward simultaneously. The distance between you vanishes in an instant, and your lips meet in a fierce, passionate kiss that speaks of all the pent-up passion and unspoken words you’d both kept buried for so long.

His hands roam your body with an urgency that borders on desperation, as if he’s making sure this is real—that you’re truly there, in front of him, kissing him. His fingers trace the curve of your back, the line of your shoulders, and then tighten their grip as he pulls you even closer, his touch firm and possessive. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding onto him with just as much need.

The kiss is everything—relief, passion, love—all rolled into one overwhelming, breathtaking moment that makes your head spin and your knees weak.

When you finally break apart, gasping for breath, Logan doesn’t move away. His forehead rests against yours, but the distance between you seems to close even further, if that were possible. His hands grip you tightly, as if you’re the only thing anchoring him to reality. He’s consumed by you, by the feel of your body against his, by the taste of your lips, by the sheer relief that you’re here, safe, and his. His breath is ragged, his heart pounding, and when he opens his eyes, they’re filled with a raw, burning intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“God, I don’t want to let you go,” he whispers.

His hands roam your back again, as if reassuring himself that you’re really there, that you’re not some illusion that will slip away the moment he loosens his grip.

You smile softly, though your heart is still racing from the intensity of the moment. “I don’t want you to let go either,” you whisper back. “But… I still need to be independent. I need to be able to stand on my own two feet.”

His gaze tightens a bit, and you can see that he’s torn between the overwhelming urge to protect you and the understanding that you’re right. His eyes search your face, as if trying to reconcile his deep-seated fear with the reality of who you are.

“I just… I don’t know how to give you space,” he admits, “Not after everything that’s happened.”

You smile gently, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You don’t have to step away,” you reassure him. “But you do have to let me stand beside you, not behind you. We’re in this together,” you kiss him again, “They’re still out there. The mission isn’t over.”

Logan’s hands tighten on your waist for a moment, as if his instincts are against the idea of giving you any distance at all, against the idea of you throwing yourself back into the fight. But then, after a long pause, he slowly, reluctantly nods. “I’ll do my best,” he murmurs. “I can’t promise I won’t want to keep you close… but I’ll try to give you the space you need.”

Your heart warms at his words, recognizing the struggle he’s willing to endure for your sake. “That’s all I’m asking for,” you reply, your voice tender as you lean in for another kiss.

[END OF PART ONE]

-----

A/N: Phew! Part one done, and part two is on the way -- it'll be up by the end of the weekend. Please comment or send me a message if you'd like to be tagged in the next part. Hope you liked the story!

[myladysapphire]

The Dragon and the Wolf (III)

You had been betrothed to Cregan stark at the start of the war. He was the noble and honourable stark that he was he supported your mother claim without restraint. So much so your mother saw it fit to betroth the two of you. So when disaster strikes and you and your younger brother are the only two survivors, you a shipped of north in your grief, leaving only Cregan to heal your wounds.

word count: 2,291

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, p in v, depression, mentions of miscarriages, stillbriths, love confessions, family reunion, marital difficulties, angst, not proofread!

Cregan Strak x Veleryon(strong)!reader

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: the timeline does not follow the book so don't come for me for changing things. sorry if this seemed rush honesltyi dont like it but i think it works well and makes a good chapter to lead into the epilouge.

In the year of 134AC, 3 years after the end of the dance of dragons, and three moons into your marriage with Cregan stark you finally made your way to kings landing after years apart from your beloved brothers.

Viserys and Aegon were no men almost grown, with Viserys a wife and child on the way and Aegon, now married to Daenaera Velaryon, though their marriage remained unconsummated.

The reunion had been a sad one, with many tears shed as you finally saw your brothers after years apart.

“Aegon! Viserys” you cried out as you ran out of the carriage to greet your brothers, your arms wrapping tightly around them, scared to let them go. Tears filled your eyes as you kissed their cheeks.

“I have missed you so dearly” you said to Aegon before looking over at Viserys, your mouth stuttering as you tried to find the right words “Vizzy, I have…oh gods-“ you cried out pulling him in for a hug once more “your all grown up!” you said, “a man grown” shaking your head as you hugged him closer.

He cried on your shoulder as you did, his arms never leaving you even as you introduced him to Cregan.

“This is Cregan…my husband, and the new lord hand.”  

“An honour to see you again” Aegon greeted, moving away from slightly from you to shake Cregan’s hand.

“As it is for me, my king” Cregan replied to Aegon head bowed.

And though Kings Landing had changed much, filled with new faces and on the rare occasions a familiar one, you still hated it.

You had thought seeing your brothers here, your sisters, it would feel like a home again,

But no.

You despised the viper pit.

There was more scheming and ploys than before and you were now at the centre of it.

with Cregan as hand and the death of your grandsire as regent, new faces took the role of councillors you had only just grown to trust.

Many of your mothers’ own advisers, advisers you had made Aegon promise to keep on his council had died in the winter fever the year before.

And perhaps that was why you hated Kingslanding, though a fifth of their population was taken, and 90% of that being the smallfolk, so many you had known, trusted and cared for had died and you never even knew.

The halls seemed more haunted now.

Not just haunted of by the faces of your family, of your uncles and brothers.

Of your mother.

But of them also.

You regretted coming with Cregan, and you hated yourself for it.

You had though and thought to stay here, arguing with him before the wedding for just this, to stay.

You know whished to take Silverwing and ride her to Winterfell and never return.

It was only the love you had for your brothers and Cregan that made you stay.

The memory of when first admitted your love for each other playing over and over again, as if it would somehow make you love this place once more.

“Cregan” you had sighed, now alone in your shred tent after a hard long day of ridding, the bath water doing little too sooth your joints.

He sighed your name in return, turning to face you as he undressed for bed.

“Do you love me?” you asked, trying to keep a casual tone to your voice, though you couldn’t hide the hope in your voice.

He smiled softly, moving towards you, taking your hand in his, “I have loved you since I first met you, and I do not think I ever will”.

You smiled, kissing his lips softly, “I love you, I have for so long, even when I hid behind my grief.”

“Really? I did not think you liked me much, after the war.”

“I did! And I hated it, I wanted to through myself into my grief and yet a part of me felt pained that I loved you and you did not know. I hated ignoring you, there always seemed to be a tether tying me to you.” You said shyly. “I hated that you were the reason I was pulled from my grief, I didn’t want my happiness to depend on you, but now…I am glad it is”.

She was glad to have him, he filled the whole left by her family’s deaths, though it was a different kind of love and wholeness she was glad for it.

But it did nought, not as you became and aunt, you fell back into the slow misery you felt before.

Feeling lost and haunted. Surrounded by ghosts talking to you day after day, ghosts you could not hear but faces haunted your dreams.

You didn’t tell anyone though.

Your family was happy, despite the death of Corlys or Baleas husband.

They all seemed happy here, laughing and enjoying the feasts.

The only person who could see your misery was Aegon, but even then, he didn’t understand.

It was clear he was haunted by your mother, of her death. But his was misery was he could push aside, and when with his family all he had was joy.

And yet you still felt that death followed you even more.

More as you felt the death of your child, spending hours, days on the birthing bed only to be greeted with a still born child.

More so as you felt the blood trickle down your legs time after time as you tried and tried to carry another pregnancy to term.

Your heart continued to break and Cregan could see your misery and so he insisted on you retuning to Winterfell, and you agreed.

Being back in Winterfell made you lose the feelings you had in Kingslanding, made you feel safer.

Made you feel at home.

And you felt lighter here.

Then Cregan was called back to Kings Landing and the emptiness found you again.

But you forced it to the side, hoping if you ignored it long enough it would go away.

And gods were you wrong.

You had plunged yourself into work, trying to help the north recover, from its weakened state following the famine caused during the winter fever.

 A year passed, now 136AC, a year away from your husband, from your brothers.

You became a ghost once more; all healing had vanished and the person you said you would become if Cregan sent you here alone had come.

 “Without you I will…I will only find that hollowness I felt for moons, the sadness will return without you to…to comfort me, to hold me and cherish me. I cannot be alone, I may rely on you a little too much, but I cannot bear to…”

And it had, you were hollow, and you were sad. But instead of letting it spill out of you as it had before, you kept it hidden.

Putting on a strong front, you wanted to be the fierce lady of Winterfell no matter how much you were breaking inside, no matter how much you wished for Cregan to see through your flowered words on paper and to come back to you.

And though he did come back to you, it was not because of you, but of Sylas the Grim.

A wilding chieftain who led a large force of 3,000 south of the wall and was plundering the lands of the gift.

Cregan arrived soon after you sent news of Sylas attacks. You yourself had tried to scare them off, using Silverwing to burn their trail. But they continued their plundering.

And so Cregan led the rallied forces of the north and attacked the wildings, leading yet another victory.

You had watched from the sidelines, sat atop Silverwing awaiting Cregan’s signal. But he never gave it, never looked over to where you waited. Only greeting you as you made your way into the festivity’s hours later. Having taken Silverwing over the wall and burning down all trees beyond the wall, within a 100-mile radius.

He had been surprised but grateful for your actions. But his gratefulness was soon overlooked as the drunken men of the north started to sing.

And you once again sat in your seat and let the hollowness within you start to show.

Later that night, after going to bed hours before Cregan, you and him finally spoke.

“Cregan?” you muttered, lifting your head from the pillow as he tumbled into the room.

“Wife!” he replied, his tone joyful, “I have missed you” he sang, “you’re going to come back with me to kings landing!” he spoke, looking at you expectantly, as if expecting you to dance in joy.

“no” you said, sitting up.

“No?” he said, suddenly sobering up. “Why not? Do you not miss your brother? Or me?”

“Every second of everyday”

“Then come to kings landing”.

“no”

“Why not?” he said, his tone almost aggravated.

“It is haunted” you spoke, your voice in hushed whispers as if the ghosts would somehow appear in your chambers.

“Everywhere haunted, even Winterfell” he said, looking at you, truly looking at you.

He took note of your sunken eyes, your dead eyes.

You looked just as you had those first few years here, and he hated how what you had said would happen had come true.

“no” he muttered, moving towards you “no…my love my sweet wife…what has happened?”

You broke down in tears, telling him what you felt, a years’ worth of emotions spilling out of you and the tears never stopped.

You must have spent the night crying in his arms, begging him to stay and never leave you again.

“please” you begged, “I can’t…I can’t go back there, and I can’t be without you”.

“okay” he said, thinking hard, “I will give up my place as hand”.

“I can’t ask that of you- “

“You can, and I must” he shook his head, cradling you in his arms “I have neglected you for too long and I am so sorry, I love you, I hope you know that” he said, hand caressing your cheek.

“you’ll stay”.

“Yes…always”

Giving up the position of hand of the king had been like a wight had lifted of his shoulders.

But seeing the state of his with had placed a heavier weight on him.

Feeling his heart break and his own betrayal fill him as you cried in his arms he felt he was a disappointment.

He had seen your loss, her grief and in his own he had pushed you away.

And though he had recovered, he should have known that you couldn’t, not by yourself, not when you still had so much grief left from the war still.

you had always been soft and gentle, always so Intune with your emotions that they overwhelmed you, and he had somehow overlooked that fact and sent you away.

And unlike last time he didn’t have the wedding or retuning to kings landing to look forward to. There was nothing really to look forward too, other than the one thing the gods had deprived you off.

A babe.

You had tried and tried, but three miscarriages and one still birth had wrecked you.

In truth had he not had the lords breathing down his neck once more for an heir then he would never have made you try in the first place and yet it was what you craved, despite the duty you wanted a babe.

And now as his cock filled you and hit all the right spots, this moment were their was no grief, no death no duty to fulfil, just you and Cregan.

“Cregan” you moaned, your face falling into the pillows as he pounded into you “please” you begged into the pillow, you felt your peak approaching as he entered you out, hitting your sweet spot again and again.

He held onto your hips, his cock focusing on that spot as his finger moved down to your clit, bringing you to your second peak of the night, as he filled you with his seed.

You collapsed on the bed, as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.

You relaxed into a comfortable silence, a silence you both often found yourself in.

‘I love you” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

And for the first time in a year you said it back, “I love you, too”

You fell into your roles as lord and lady of Winterfell easily. Finding you rather enjoyed your duties even more when they were not used as a distraction.

And even though there was some tension between you and Cregan still, you found the love you felt for one another made everything easier, especially when you had spent nights crying in grief and regret at refusing your brothers request to return to Kingslanding even if only for a few days.

You hated saying no, but they seemed to understand. Your duty was to Winterfell now, and they understood.

Egg had understood your need to leave before, himself feeling the same as he told you he considered moving to Dragonstone but fearing hell find more hurt in those halls than that of the red keep.

And now with news of Aegon’s tour around Westeros you were excited to see him once more, too show him your home.

A home you did not regret him having no place in, and as the years passed with a few visits here and there form your brothers you found you rather liked the distance.

Finding that perhaps your grief weas in the guilt of only them and you surviving and not Jace, Luke or Joffrey. The boys who were truly your brothers before they were ever kings or princes.

authors note: next part is the epilouge!

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[angelwishess]

You have been invited to the Fairytale Soiree! ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔

Angel’s 100+ followers event!

a/n: Hi hi everyone! I’d like to thank everyone so, so so very much for 160 followers!! When I first started this blog about a month ago, I genuinely did NOT expect to get this much love and attention. It was such a surprise, but I’m so very thankful nonetheless! During my short time running this blog I have met so many wonderful, talented, charming, amazing people, and I appreciate all of you so much! Thank you once again for supporting me until now! ♡

Story:

Every 100 years, a group of fae gather together to host a grand party to celebrate the beginning of a new century. And tonight, once the clock hits 12 it will be the genesis of a new era once more. The stars seemed to shine brighter than usual on this evening, and magic swirled around as the faeries gathered to sing, dance, feast and party the night away.

But of course, there was one more thing they had to do. Every Soiree, the three hosting faeries summon a group of humans, beastmen and merfolk alike to join them on this joyous occasion! Once every one hundered years, it truly would be a waste not to share the joys of tonight.

It just so happened that this time, a group of students seem to be the ones that were chosen! Waking up in an unfamiliar palace-like building, lush with gorgeous flora and hues of pinks, blues and purples. Although skeptical at first, they soon joined the fae with their grand soiree.

That was, until they swiftly picked out Kyra from the crowd. Declaring her as the “Dreamer of Tonight”. They explained, that at the end of every soiree, just before the clock hits 12, all of the fae come together to grant one wish. Whether it be riches that overflow into mountains of gold, power beyond imagination, or knowledge of the unknown— whatever it is, they grant it. And it may even shape the course of the next century.

Kyra pondered this for a moment, sitting upon an elegant throne-like chair as she looked at the faces of all her friends. She frowned, and the faeries were curious. That was until she asked,

“Could I share my wish with my friends?”

Taken aback, the faeries asked why she wanted to do such a thing.

“Well… It just seems kind of unfair. They all deserve to have their wishes granted, too.”

An air of silence filled the room. Only to be broken by a rampaging laughter from all of the fae. They laughed, and laughed, until tears prickled in the corners of their eyes. No one had ever asked for something so ridiculous. The very first time anyone had asked for such a thing!

Amused, the fae agreed to let her share the wish— but with only one person. Now, its up to the rest of the group to decide whether they want to convince Kyra to share the wish with her, or simply just enjoy the party. But they better hurry up, because the clock is ticking! Either way, the faeries are expecting a good show out of tonight’s soiree.

Why, it might just be the most exciting one yet!

“Share this wish with me!”

Dress Code:

There isn’t a really stict dresscode— but of course the characters will all be wearing clothing suited for an extravagant ball!

And, if the name wasn’t obvious enough, this event is very Fairytale themed! So I suggest taking inspiration from fairytales! Whether it be characters, tropes, or items in the fairytale! Go crazy!!!

Theres not really a certain colorscheme either, Id rather you use the colors you think fit the characters you choose the most !!

Featured Characters:

Kyra Lovelace SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Floyd Leech SR (Fairytale Attire)

Ace Trappola SR (Fairytale Attire)

Vil Schoenheit SR (Fairytale Attire)

Azul Ashengrotto SR (Fairytale Attire)

Leona Kingscholar SR (Fairytale Attire)

Jamil Viper SR (Fairytale Attire)

Sebek Zigvolt R (Fairytale Attire)

Jamil Viper R (Fairytale Attire)

Jack Howl R (Fairytale Attire)

OCs:

Victor Sanderson SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Yuuel “El” Mirume SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Yurena Lovelace SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Yuubeni Choga SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Joseph Akaba SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Yuki SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Dranav Taryn SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Ame SSR (Fairytale Attire)

Rory Queens SR (Fairytale Attire)

Shuu SR (Fairytale Attire)

Rayven Ludwig SR (Fairytale Attire)

Arlo Wake SR (Fairytale Attire)

Erice Ainsbourg SR (Fairytale Attire)

Delilah Koshkin SR (Fairytale Attire)

Kaiia Haunt SR (Fairytale Attire)

Yumi Yozakura SR (Fairytale Attire)

Reyu Carrera SR (Fairytale Attire)

Caspian Ashengrotto SR (Fairytale Attire)

Philosophy Freay R (Fairytale Attire)

Yuhua Wei (Fairytale Attire)

Asher (Fairytale Attire)

AJ (Fairytale Attire)

RULES!!!:

- Despite this being a follower milestone event, everyone is welcome to participate! ♡

- You can use any kind of character to enter into the - event! OCs, Yuusonas, and canon characters that haven’t been listed in the participants! All characters are very much welcomed !!!

- Any kind of entry is also welcomed! Art, edits, fics, ect.

- Please tag me in your post and use the tag #Fairytale Soiree! In your posts!

Strictly no NSFW or proshipping.

There is no clear deadline nor winner, this is honestly just for fun so go crazy!!

Theres no real limit on the amount of SSR cards either, so feel free to do whatever you’d like, whether you choose to make an SSR, SR or R card !

Feel free to dm me if you have any questions :3

Once again, Thank you all so very much for supporting me thus far!! (Reblogs are appreciated :3)

[bluesylveon2]

Ortho vs a Teenage Girl and a 5-year-old Prince

Summary: When Ortho's hard work of trying to set up the Prefect with his brother is about to go down the drain by two kids. Disaster ensues! initial post

Notes: This is my first time writng for Twisted Wonderland so I hope that you enjoy! I used Yuu but this can be read as a x Reader too! Yuu/reader is a female!

Word Count: 4835

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

Warnings: possible ooc characters, not beta read, slight book 6 spoilers, references to the yasamina and sunset savanna events, irl references, Lilia wanting to be a grandpa, and some alcohol mentioned (Papa Crewel drinking wine)

Edit 7/31: sequel announcement post here! Now with Lilia vs Eric Venue, Marja, and Dylla!!

Family Day is the one day in Night Raven College when families are invited to tour the campus or visit their loved ones. The event itself was big since most students come from well-off families. However, sometimes some parents were too busy to show up, which was okay. One example is Idia and Ortho's parents. Both siblings didn't mind them not showing up. Idia preferred playing video games in his room but not Ortho. Ortho had a different plan involving the Ramshackle Prefect, Yuu. The Prefect has to be the toughest girl Ortho has ever met. Ortho has never met a girl who can defeat six overblots (one of them was his brother), wrangle a cat monster, and deal with Crowley's (bs) demanding jobs. 

Now Ortho was not dumb. He might be more human-like, but he could sense how much his brother's heart races when the Prefect talks to him or how his hair turns slightly pink when they play video games together. Ortho thinks Idia's feelings towards the Prefect grew after she and a few others broke into the Island of Woe to save their friends. Sadly, Idia has never acted on his feelings and prefers to stay on the sidelines and admire Yuu from afar. 

On the other hand, Ortho was not having it. He can see just how happy his brother is around Yuu. Plus, Ortho would gladly accept her as his sister-in-law. It's like hitting two birds with one stone!

Ortho made it his mission to mention his brother whenever he hung out with the Prefect. It can range from "Big Brother made a new invention" or "Big Brother wants to play a new game with you!" If Ortho can have some of Idia's friends play video games with him, he can surely set Yuu up with his brother. 

Of course, the Fates must have heard him and introduced two rivals during the school's annual Family Day. 

Who are his rivals? A teenage girl and a 5-year-old prince. 

---

Rival 1: Najma Viper

Ortho hummed as he glided down the hall of different families, searching for the Prefect. Luckily he had the whole day to put his plan in motion since his parents could not attend today's event, and Idia stayed in his room. According to Ace, who took Grim so they could prank his older brother, Yuu was handling different errands assigned by Crowley for Family Day. What would be the perfect way to spend Family Day with a (potential) sister by helping her and inviting her over to hang out with his Big Brother?

Ortho turned around a corner but stopped when he saw the Prefect occupied with a young girl. He moved closer to get a better look. 

"Jamil is very talented. He is smart, can cook, sing, and is a great dancer! You should see how happy he gets when he dances. He is the perfect guy!" The girl exclaimed with excitement in her eyes. 

Ortho froze. Jamil? The perfect guy? What in the Twisted Wonderland was going on here? He had a bad feeling about this. 

"He would be a great boyfriend for you. You should've seen how he kept staring at you when you visited the Scalding Sands," the girl adds, causing Yuu to blush. 

Ortho felt as if Tartarus froze over. "NO!" He suddenly yelled and flew out of his hiding spot.

Yuu and the other girl turn to Ortho. 

"No?" 

"I mean, no way! Jamil is so cool!" Ortho said in an attempt to save himself. Yuu and the girl both smile, causing Ortho to kick himself internally. He should be hyping his brother up, not Jamil! Ortho turned to the other girl. "I'm sorry. Let me introduce myself. Hi, I'm Ortho Shroud, a first-year, and Yuu's friend," he extended a hand to her. 

The girl shook his hand and had a pleasant smile on her face. "Hi Ortho, I'm Jamil's sister, Najma." Najma seemed kind, but Ortho was not buying it. If Ortho knew anything about Jamil, Najma must be good at hiding her true feelings. "Say, Ortho, since you seem to know my brother, would you agree that he is talented?"

"I guess I can agree with you there," Ortho said while reflecting on Jamil's performance at the VDC.

Najma's eyes furrow slightly, "You guess?" She turned to Yuu, "What do you think, Yuu? Don't you think that he is talented? Or handsome? Or both?" she smirked.

Yuu hesitantly laughed, "Well-" her eyes scanned the hall until she spotted a familiar mop of white hair. "Kalim!"

Kalim turned to the trio and smiled brightly, "Yuu! Najma! Ortho! What are you all doing here?"

"Just catching up," Najma replied instantly and turned to Kalim with a devious look, "Say, Kalim, what do you think are my brother's best features?

Kalim hummed in thought before responding. "Well, he is a good dancer, can cook, and is very strong! He once told me he is as strong as ten men!" 

"Whoa," Yuu replied with awe, and Najma smiled proudly. 

"Give Big Brother a day, and he can be stronger than one hundred men with an invention," Ortho muttered. The others were too busy to notice Ortho float off to search for his brother. Jamil may be talented, but his Big Brother is that and more! He had to drag him out of his room first to show it. 

Ortho was at the Mirror Chamber when he noticed someone enter from Scarabia's door. He saw the frantic look on Jamil's face and made his way to him.

"Jamil! How are you?'

"Fine," the boy replied, searching the room for something or someone.

"Are you looking for someone?" Ortho asked and innocently tilted his head to the side. 

"In fact, yes. I'm looking for Kalim and my little sister, Najma. She looks a little bit like me but shorter."

"Oh, that was your sister! I saw her with Kalim earlier! They were talking to Yuu, nearby one of the first-year classrooms. I can lead the way for you if you want." Vil would be proud of his acting skills if he could see him now.

"Great Sevens, those two," Jamil sighed out of relief. "Please."

The two trek through the school with Orthro leading. Jamil could not see the glee in the boy's eyes. If he removed Najma from the picture, he could have Yuu all to himself and use the time to praise his Big Brother! Ortho mentally high-fives himself for the genius plan.

"Jamil is also really good at basketball. You should have seen when he made the winning shot against RSA," Kalim's voice echoed, causing Jamil to walk faster. 

"NAJMA! KALIM!" Jamil called out once they were in his sight. "Stop annoying the Prefect. We need to get back to Scarabia for the party."

Najma's face lights up with an idea, "We can invite Yuu!"

Jamil rolled his eyes and grabbed the two by the back of their shirts, "No, this party is for both our parents and Kalim's siblings. We will be late if we do not leave right now." Jamil stopped his scolding and turned to Yuu. "I'm so sorry about them, Prefect. I don't want them to interrupt your day."

Yuu laughed, "It's alright. They were telling me some things about you."

Jamil's eyes widen in horror, "WHAT?" 

"I didn't know you once faced a hundred bad guys with swords before."

Jamil turned to the duo in his hands, then Yuu, then back at them again. His face became red as Riddle's hair as the seconds passed, "We are leaving!"

"But Jamil!" Kalim and Najma whine.

"NO BUTS! We are leaving before you feed Yuu more lies," He dragged the two down the hall and back to Scarabia.

"None of that were lies though!" Kalim's voice echoed.

"I've see the way you look at her and it is sad to watch. You needed the help anyway!" Najma added.

"No, I don't!" Jamil replied. The trio's voices became quieter until they were out of sight. 

Ortho and Yuu stood in silence. After some time passed, Ortho glanced over at Yuu.

"Big Sister, based on the changes in your heart, I can tell you are feeling sad. Is something wrong?" Ortho asked and noticed the sad look on the Prefect's face. The Prefect's eyes widen from getting caught. 

"Yeah. It's just…watching Jamil and Najma interact reminds me of my younger siblings back home. Sometimes I feel lonely watching everyone interact with their families." 

"How many siblings do you have?'

"A younger brother and a younger sister. You know, Ortho, you remind me of my little brother." Yuu smiled and ruffled Ortho's hair. Ortho's eyes became bright with joy.

"Thank you, Big Sister. You might feel lonely now, but most people here consider you family. For example, Ace and Deuce."

Yuu laughed, the corners of her mouth turning upward slightly. "They are like brothers to me, always getting into trouble but loveable at the same time."

"See!"

"I can't forget the Ramshackle ghosts, the rest of the Heartslabyul guys, and the professors!"

"Yeah, so you may miss your family sad, but you still have people around you who consider you their own. You won't be lonely until Crowley finds you a way home!"

Yuu smiled, "You're right, Ortho. Come here." she opened her arms to him in a hug that Ortho immediately flew to. "Thank you, Ortho, for cheering me up." She lets go of the boy and looks around the hallway. "By the way, where is Idia? I haven't seen him all day."

"Oh!" Ortho replied, unaware of the pitter-patter of the child's feet getting louder and louder. "He wanted me to tell you about the new Star Rogue game that just came out. Big Brother wants you to"

"Auntie Yuu!"

----

Rival 2: Cheka Kingscholar

Ortho wished that kicking a 5-year-old kid across the island would not be a high-risk thing to do. His parents had already dealt with the damage caused by him and his big brother on the Island of Woe. The last thing his parents need is to deal with the royal family of Sunset Savanna.

Still, Ortho has got to be one of the few people who can say one of his rivals is a kindergartener. A child, for crying out loud! An annoying child who has been clinging to the Prefect, talking her ear off about how great his Unca Leona is, and is using his big brown eyes (that reminded Ortho of the toddler's eyes from a popular babysitter's anime Idia loves) to increase his cuteness by 100%.

"Give me five seconds, and I can increase my cuteness by 1000%. Big Brother recently installed a program to do that," Ortho muttered to himself while glaring at the newest addition to the group. He could use that feature to his advantage. Still, the child will not give him the opportunity by choosing to wrap himself around her waist and staying there like a koala. 

"Cheka! What are you doing here, and where are your attendants? Yuu frantically asked and looked around for them. The last thing she wanted to do was get on the royal family's bad side. 

"I couldn't wait to see you, Auntie, so I left them all behind! Hee hee!"

Yuu's mouth opened from shock. "we need to find them right away!"

Cheka didn't share the same feelings as Yuu and instead just laughed it off, "We could find Unca instead. Did you know that he is very cool and strong? He has so many friends that we all played together once. He even made me fly!"

Yuu could only respond in a confused tone. Ortho felt his patience run thin from the young prince. 

"I'm sorry, Prince Cheka, but Yuu is busy right now." Ortho tried to pry the cub off Yuu, but Cheka refused to let go. He could try to use more force, but it can lead to a torn uniform and an unhappy Professor Crewel. 

Ortho's words fly past Cheka's ears, "Not now! This is an emergency!" the young prince turned and glared at Ortho.

Oh, he is going down! Give him a few seconds, and he could blast the child out of existence!

"An emergency?" Yuu asked, unaware of Ortho's hair looking Idia's when he gets angry. 

"You must marry my Unca because he loves you and wants to be with you forever!"

Yuu laughed and moved her arms around to carry Cheka, "Did your Uncle tell you that?" she asked while imaging the grumpy lion down on one knee and asking her to marry him. 

Cheka nodded his head so fast. "Of course! He wants you to be his princess! If you marry him, then you can be my Auntie. Then we can all spend each day playing!"

Ortho, who was starting to get annoyed, immediately butted in, "Big Sister! If you do that, then your other family will miss you! Big Brother will miss you too!"

Cheka glared at Ortho again. He turned to Yuu and increased his cuteness by pouting his lips, "Unca Leona loves you, Auntie! He can die from heartbreak if you're not with him!"

Ortho rolled his eyes, "Your uncle won't die."

"You don't know that! You're the only one who can make him happy! Auntie, Unca Leona is so sad without you! We can't let Unca cry!"

Yuu hesitantly laughed, "I'm pretty sure your Uncle has other things that make him happy."

"But would you consider marrying him to make him happier?" Cheka asks, his eyes glistening with tears. Ortho rolled his eyes again. 

"I think we are too young to get married?"

"In the future, then?"

Ortho had enough. "That's it! Prince Cheka, Big Sister is busy right now, and she needs to go." He flew over and grabbed one of Yuu's arms to pull her away. 

Cheka leaped out of Yuu's remaining arm and grabbed it to pull, "No, she is going with me!"

"No, she needs to see my big brother!" pull.

"No, she must see my Unca! He will cry if he never sees her." pull.

"He. Will. Not. Die!" pull.

"Well, I bet my Unca is cooler than your brother. He can drive his car through land and sea*!" pull.

"Oh yeah? Well, my brother can take apart a blastcycle, customize it with a functional value, AND drive it!" pull.

"Oh yeah? My brother can fly a flying carpet! That takes a lot of skill to master." Najma added, materializing out of nowhere after she escaped from her brother. She pulled Ortho and Cheka's hands off of Yuu and glared at them.

Ortho groaned, "Not you again!"

The three began to argue about which of their family members was better and left Yuu off to the side.  

Yuu's arms were now sore from all the pulling, and she could feel a headache forming. Despite this, Yuu could not stop a small smile from forming on her face. She blinked once and saw her younger siblings arguing instead of her friends. The argument was both cute and an annoying thing to watch. 

 "ENOUGH!" Yuu yelled, causing everyone to stop arguing. "You all need to stop arguing because it is not helping me pick a side."

"Exactly. You three are causing a ruckus on school grounds," A stern voice added. Everyone turned around to find Professor Crewel glaring at them. Najma and Cheka tremble from the professor's gaze. "You pups need to apologize to Yuu for the incoming headache and disrupting the school."

Ortho, Najma, and Cheka give each other a look and nod, "We're sorry, Big Sister/Yuu/Auntie."

Yuu smiled, kneeled, and opened her arms for a hug. "I forgive you," she says, and the three children join in on the group hug. Crewel smiled at the sight before clearing his throat to get their attention.

"Yuu, can you help me sort the potions in my office?" He asked and tapped his pointer three times against his palm. 

"Of course," she stood up. "You three be good now," Yuu ruffled the children's hair and headed towards Crewel's office. 

Crewel turned towards Ortho, "Shroud. I want you to bring these two back to their respective dorms. You can help guide them back."

Ortho sighed, "Yes sir," he replied, looked at the other two, and flew off towards the Mirror Chamber. "My brother is the coolest, though," he whispered to himself, but Cheka, having enhanced hearing, heard it all.

"My Unca is cooler plus 100."

Najma rolled her eyes, "You mean times 100? Anyways, my brother is cooler times 1000."

The three could not help the laugh escaping their lips. They will cease fire for now. The winner can be chosen another day. 

----

"-uu. Yuu." Crewel called out and shook Yuu's body to wake her up. 

Yuu groaned but opened her eyes to the bright light of Crewel's office. Her body was on his red leather couch, Grim snuggled beside her, and his thick coat acted as her blanket. 

"You need to wake up. The sun has already set, and I want you to get some sleep tonight," Crewel said softly and stood up to walk to his desk. The campus sounded quiet except for the crickets chirping outside. 

Ah, so Family Day is over. 

"When did Grim show up?" Yuu asks through a yawn. She sits up, picks up Grim, and places him on her lap.

"About an hour ago. He was already knocked out when Trappola brought him here," Crewel picked up a neatly wrapped box on his desk and walked back to the Prefect. "These are for you." Yuu grabbed the box and immediately opened it. Inside was an assortment of cookies and chocolates that looked too expensive for Yuu. "Since your actual family is not here for Family Day, I wanted to give you this to celebrate it. Feel free to share it with your friends,"

Yuu could feel tears forming. She used to feel alone after she crashed the entrance ceremony, but not anymore. Yuu now has people who love her despite the possibility of her leaving. She appreciates all he does as someone she views as a father figure in Twisted Wonderland. Crewel's gift may not be as grand as her whole family showing up, but the small things count. 

"Thank you so much," she placed Grim and the gift down and stood up to hug the man. 

Crewel smiled, "You're welcome, Yuu." he pulled away. "Now get some rest, or else you might give the Pomefiore students a heart attack if you show up with eyebags."

Yuu laughed, "Of course," she grabbed Grim, the box, and headed out the door. Yuu smiled at her memories from today as she walked back to Ramshackle. She enjoyed reuniting with Najma and Cheka despite their arguing with Ortho over who she should hang out with. 

Why were they so persistent about it? Yuu thought to herself when it suddenly hit her.

"I forgot about Idia!" Yuu exclaimed. Her movement caused Grim to mumble something in his sleep. Yuu tucked Grim over her shoulder and ran toward the Mirror Chamber when she saw the guy in question heading her way. 

"Idia!" Yuu called out with glee. It had been a long day for her, so seeing him made her smile. "Where have you been all day? I wanted to hang out with you."

Idia blushed and started sweating, "Y-you did? I was in my room since my parents did not show up today. I was actuallywaitingonyousowecouldplaythisnewgametogether." Idia mumbled the last part so fast that Yuu could not understand it. 

"I'm sorry. I missed the last part?" 

"I said I was waiting for you to play the new Star Rogue together. I asked Ortho to get you, but he returned without you."

Yuu laughed nervously, "Ah, that. Yeah, a lot of stuff happened, and Ortho was busy." She replied, unaware of Idia's increasing heartbeat caused by the Prefect's adorable laugh. 

Idia imagined there was a meter beside him, and it kept growing every time the Prefect did something cute (read: that is a lot of things). There's a limit that could cause it to explode. 

Idia avoided Yuu's stare by looking at the fancy box in the girl's hands. His eyes lit up in excitement. "Where did you get the sweets from?"

Yuu smiled. "Professor Crewel!" Saying his name made his earlier words replay in her mind. Suddenly, her face lit up like she had an idea. "Hey, Idia. Why don't you and Ortho come over to Rhamshakle for a sleepover? We can play Star Rogue and eat these sweets together."

Cue the meter beside Idia, exploding into a million pieces. Now Idia was red, frozen, and unsure about what to do. 

Yuu waved a hand across Idia's face. "Hey, are you okay?"

"YES!" Idia squeaked out and cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah. I don't mind having a sleepover at Ramshackle tonight."

Yuu squealed from excitement. "Yay!" She jumped with glee. Suddenly, she tucked the candy box under one arm, used her other arm to grab Idia's shoulder, and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. 

Idia.exe has stopped working. Oh yeah, Idia was VERY red now, and his hair turned a bright shade of pink. 

Is this how the MC feels when they get kissed by a love interest? Idia thought to himself like he was in an otome game. He could see the intimacy meter between him and Yuu go up.

"I'm so excited! I will go ahead and set up the lounge. You can grab Ortho and whatever else we need for the sleepover. We can meet up in my dorm after we get everything."

"S-s-sounds good," Idia gave a tiny thumbs up, which was the best he could do then. 

"See you then!" Yuu called out and headed back towards Ramshackle with a pep in her step. Once Yuu was out of sight, Idia pulled out his tablet to connect to Ortho. 

"Hello, Big Brother! Do you need something?" 

Idia could not articulate anything. First, his crush invited him to her dorm, and then she kissed him. The Prefecf actually KISSED HIM on the cheek. 

"THEPREFECTKISSEDME!!" 

"What? Did you say that Big Sister kissed you?"

"Just on the cheek, but it still counts! The UR character actually took an interest in boring old me! Ortho, I need you to get things for our sleepover with the Prefect…."

Ortho chose to not listen to his brother rambling. All he could hear was that he was victorious. 

"Oh, Big Brother," Ortho smiled after Idia was done. "I am so happy for you."

Score: Ortho: +1, Najma: 0, Cheka: 0

----

Earlier in Savanaclaw: 

"UNCA!!!!" Cheka yelled as he barged into Leona's room, left the door open, and pounced on Leona's stomach. Leona let out an 'oof' and glared at his nephew. He sat up, let his blankets fall, and allowed Cheka to sit on his lap.

"Why are you in my room? You're interrupting my nap." 

"You need to marry Yuu, or you could die!" Cheka exclaimed while jumping on Leona's body.

Leona rolled his eyes, "I will not die, kid."

Cheka stopped jumping and leaned toward Leona's face, "You don't know that, so you need my help to impress her!"

Leona pushed Cheka's face away, "Look, furball, I do not need any help to impress Yuu. She can take one look at me and realize that is all she needs." Leona was too prideful to say it aloud, but he grew to like the herbivore. Has she been clueless to him affections her? Yes but he refuses to ask his nephew, of all people, for help.

Cheka blinked and stared at his uncle's face, "You need more than that, Unca!"

Leona groaned in annoyance. Cheka was too stubborn not to give up, and Leona was tired. Leona contemplated his next step when he heard familiar footsteps approaching his door. 

Ah, it is about time for Ruggie to come to pick up his laundry. 

"Hey, Leona! You better have your laundry somewhat neat." His voice called out, slowly getting louder as he got closer.

Leona grabbed the back of Cheka's shirt, "Hey Cheka, I'll let you help me if we play a game first."

Cheka's eyes lite up in glee, "Oh! What game?"

As Ruggie walked into Leona's doorway, Leona picked up Cheka and threw him at Ruggie's face.

"What the" Ruggie exclaimed and managed to catch the laughing Cheka. Leona quickly jumped up and walked to his balcony. 

"I'll leave him to you. Don't go looking for me." Leona called back. 

"Hey!" Ruggie runs after him, but it is too late. Leona already jumped off and gracefully landed on the ground. He walked out, leaving Ruggie and Cheka alone in the dorm room.

Cheka turned to Ruggie with a bright grin, "Let's do it again!"

Ruggie could only sigh. This will be a long day.

Bonus: 

"Father, when you said there was an emergency, I did not think makeup would be the reason." Silver's legs started to feel numb as Lilia rubbed some eyeshadow on his eyelids. Earlier, Lilia was adding different makeup powders to the boy's face, so he had to resist the urge to sneeze. 

"Hush, Silver! Master Lilia requires us to sit here for hours getting for…what is it for actually?" Sebek's face contoured in confusion despite his eyes being closed for his eyeshadow. 

"Fufufu the Prefect needs to be starstruck by your looks that she will say yes if either of you asks for her hand in marriage."

"MARRIAGE?!" Silver and Sebek exclaimed at the same time, their eyes opening wide. Sebek's scream caused some of the photos on Malleus' wall to shake. 

"Hush, you two. You will ruin the hard work I spent hours on." Lilia replied and threw some glitter at his son's faces as a finishing touch. Malleus opened his eyes and glanced at Lilia.

"I understand why you want to dress up and use makeup to impress the Child of Man, but are three people required for this?" 

"Of course! The more people, the better, and I need only one of you to succeed. Now look at yourselves." Lilia stepped away so the trio could look at themselves in the mirror. "Do you or do you not feel bonita?"

The trio gave each other a confused look. None of them heard of that word before. Lilia may have picked up some of Rook's weird language.

"We feel bonita?" They replied, sounding more like a question than a statement. Lilia clapped his hands together and smiled brightly. He heard about the multitude of people with similar goals as him. He needed to act fast, or else it would be too late. If there's one thing the fae learned from his gamer friend, Gloomurai, is that otome games have multiple suitors for the MC. From Lilia's perspective, throwing all three of his sons into the competition for Yuu's heart would lead to a good ending for him. Lilia finished his plan by walking over to the vanity and handing them all a ring box. 

"Wonderful because you look bonita!" Despite his small stature, the man stood behind his sons and pushed them out the door. "Now go and woo the Prefect! Don't return until I see a ring on her finger and a promise of future grandchildren!" Lilia called out before slamming the door in their faces. 

The trio stared silently at the door, trying to understand what had happened. Luckily, Malleus decided to break the awkward atmosphere.

"Now what?"

Additional Rivals: Malleus, Silver, and Sebek

---

Professor Crewel cannot believe he is saying this, but he understands Professor Trein's stress in raising children. Who knew that caring for (more like adopting) a magicless human would attract so many mutts to her? Crewel had to admit that his daughter was beautiful (thanks to his hard work), but couldn't it have been from someone who was not as horrible as them? The man could only count a few decent guys with one hand, but they were not enough for his pup. His pup deserved the best. 

Crewel sat on his sofa and snacked some crackers topped with raisin butter. Earlier, he had to save his pup from a group of children using their secret code. Then, he saw the older Shroud boy speak to his daughter as she walked back to Ramshackle.

The man sighed. He opened his wine fridge to grab a bottle of red wine, a glass from the cabinet behind him, and poured himself a drink. Whoever his pup picks better be the right one for her. Until then, he will watch the lovesick mutts fight each other for her attention. Crewel swirled the red wine around and drank it all in one go. He could feel the stress already forming from the imaginary image of the mutts fighting on school property, Crowley barging into classrooms, and the overblots were already making a dent in the school's budget. Teenage boys and property damage would make it even worse. 

Crewel eyed the bottle one more time before making a decision. He may need a stronger drink. 

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2. Do not modify or republish

Sorry for the wait but the fic is now here! I hope that yall enjoyed it :)

* - the "sea" Cheka is referring to is a giant puddle Leona drove through during his Sunset Savanna event card vignette

Taglist: @nanograms, @krispyenthusiastkitten, @strawberrycaramelcapybara, @mochiclouds, @kitty-page, @fancyhawk45, @xxoomiii, @kiyoyachisimp, @arisdelssy, @rainbowcake1212, @forgwater, @justyoureverydaytwstsimp, @savanaclaw1996, @shrimpsterprefect, @that-creepy-girl-000, @penguinmilo, @tingerines, @julessketchbook, @i-am-the-avatar-of-idiocy, @booming-spam, @nekanecorvus, @glacticrose, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @imakeeggswet, @hatshroom, @lunarapple, @simp-simp-no-mi, @the-hearteater, @aroseyhyena, @vitaniangel-blog, @nxyll34, @everettelz

[gunnrblze]

Alex V. “Ajax” Johnson moodboard + random headcannons

-his middle name is Vance

-from southwest USA area (Arizona/New Mexico/Nevada/Texas)

-middle child, had two sisters that he loved so so dearly (“my girls” is how he’d refer to them. everyone that really knew him knew about his girls back at home)

-had the best sense of humor amongst the Ghosts, next to Kick and Rorke (and Merrick, believe it or not)

-epitome of stubborn, absolutely didn’t give a fuck (view: him flipping the Feds off while being tortured). was both a gift and a curse for him

-knew Keegan since they were teens (canon bc of Sand Viper, but I like to think they go back a little further than that)

-blues/punk/rock/industrial/hip hop/classical/alternative listener. 70s music lover

-first in his family to join the military. his mother nearly had a heart attack

-favorite Ghost aside from Keegan was Rorke, big mentor for him. made the betrayal sting even more, watching the man abandon the values he helped instill in him

-had the gene that makes cilantro taste like soap

-Sand Viper felt like a fever dream to him, and it took a while to even remotely calm his nervous system down. he had nightmares for a while, like most of them did, and would sleep near Keegan whenever possible

-^he considered it what made him a man rather than a boy

-used to prank Rorke and Elias on base with the other guys. if anyone got caught, it was usually him (you could always hear him snickering off in the background somewhere)

-was pretty close with Torch before he went missing

-being the youngest/least experienced member during the Legends Never Die mission was daunting to him. Keegan, although only by a year, was always the youngest, so he felt a ton of pressure for that reason

-mediocre dancer, except for classic ballroom type dances actually. grew up watching his parents do the foxtrot and waltz, so his tango skills were swoon worthy

-^which was a weapon because he’s also very very charming. flirted in an either lighthearted and jokey way or an absolutely bewitching and alluring way. typa guy to quite literally charm his way into your pants

-very ironically used to dress up as a ghost for Halloween when he was a kid a lot. he wondered if maybe he was always destined to be one, either as a part of the task force or his inevitable demise

-had a wide and pretty smile, naturally straight teeth that lit his face up when he grinned (like I imagine Hesh would have too)

-looked the best of all the Ghosts with the standard military issue buzz cut. could pull off any hairstyle he was given (cus he was handsome lmfao, that’s it)

-did band in middle school. his sisters teased him for being a flute player instead of doing sports but bless his heart he was good at it!

-was a littleeee bit of a nerd. Could bond with Kick over techy stuff sometimes

-would dream about the sunsets from his hometown when shit got particularly rough, especially during his early marine days. the desert skies brought him peace

[jules-writes-stories]

Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows

Azriel x Eris

Chapter 21 on AO3

“Why did you ask for Nesta’s hand in the Hewn City that night? Even knowing you were mated to Azriel?” Cassian asked the question with open curiosity, but underneath was the inevitable edge of possession that came with any mating bond. 

Eris sighed, wondering how honest he should be with the Night Court general. They were allies, yet he could not leave and was accused of possibly breaking their laws. 

So, the viper chose what he knew best: half-truths. “I simply did what Rhysand expected of me. And I wanted this alliance.” 

The heir continued, “I considered my options. I need an ally for when I ascend to High Lord. Nesta is powerful, beautiful, and clever. She can play the game. And your High Lord and brother offered her to me on a silver platter. Meanwhile, my mating bond is not…” Eris swallowed and turned to glance out the window again, “is not feasible.” 

“That’s so cold, so calculated.” Cassian shook his head. 

Eris saw the judgment in Cassian's eyes and felt a familiar flicker of flames itching at his palms. He banked it. What this male did not know, the truth that the fireling buried, was that he had felt utterly rejected. He’d grown tired of being Azriel’s dirty secret, a mate that this family would revile, one to elicit pity from the Shadowsinger’s friends. And in a moment of loneliness, of scheming, Eris had wondered if there could be a genuine camaraderie between himself and Nesta Archeron, a chance at true companionship between equals.

“Perhaps general. But no more so than your best friend and brother using your mate as a cheap enticement. At least my proposal was in earnest. I offered Nesta a position of honor, power, and protection. Rhysand waggled her before me like a piece of meat, only to pull her away.” Autumn’s prince watched as his words sank in and struck something raw. He had no desire to come between the Illyrian brothers, nor sow discord within their Inner Circle, but he was tired of being the Night Court's villain and puppet. 

“Besides,” Eris sauntered over and sat across from Cassian. He lounged in a way that made his lithe body appear predatory, ready to pounce, and murmured, “The joke is on all of you. I’m not even attracted to females. The marriage would have been in name only.” 

The fireling looked straight at the Night Court general and sighed. “I also had no idea you were interested in her like that. At least, not until you made it very known with your grunting and your stink.” 

Cassian ground his teeth, ready to interject, when Eris conceded, “And I was distracted as well.” 

The Autumn male smiled earnestly at the memory of Cassian, feral with jealousy in the early throes of a mating bond, stalking them all over the dance floor. How uncharacteristically oblivious Eris was initially due to his own Illyrian mate, whose eyes he kept trying to meet. What a disaster that night had been.  

Cassian must have relived similar memories as he shook his head and chuckled. “Nes still refers to you as her best dance partner, but claims she could smell Azriel all over you and knew you were mates.” The Illyrian laughed then, a loud, raucous sound, at Eris’s face. 

The Autumn male’s skin had flushed at the memory of the Shadowsinger, pushing him into an alcove of the Hewn City just an hour before the Solstice Ball, how he had roughly handled Eris, and how Eris had pulled and scratched and bit him back. They rarely spoke each other’s names in the first years of the bond. Brat, brute, Shadowsinger, fireling…

They'd fucked fast and hard, and usually from behind, in dark corners of the world. It had been a heartbreaking pleasure.

And so different from their recent times together— tasting each other’s lips, watching pleasure unfold in the other’s face, whispering words of praise and affection. This softness between them was so new, so fragile, and now at risk. 

“Azriel believes you.” Cassian’s voice was clear and somber, bringing Eris away from his thoughts.

@the-darkestminds @fieldofdaisiies @c-starstuff-man0 @chunkypossum @futurehunt @talibunny30 @molcat07 @seihdacalling @mistandmemories @unanswered-stars @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @going-through-shit @yanny-77 @lilah-asteria

[pandoa]

Hi!!! Can I request yellow pansies and anemones in a balcony theme for Jamil? Thank you!!

Yellow pansies ~ “they love me, they love me not. they love me, they love me n—” “what are you doing?” “GAH!”

Anemones ~ “just take my hand. don’t you dare second guess yourself”

~jamil viper x gender neutral reader~

the moment i saw the balcony theme and anemones prompt i immediately thought "ALADDIN A WHOLE NEW WORLD SCENE-" AND I'M JUST SDJNJVDV THE PERFECT WAY TO END THIS EVENT, THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING <3

♡shining, shimmering, splendid!♡

He was perfect. Way too perfect, actually. What kind of man was just too good at everything?

It was to the point where it drove you absolutely crazy. Every step he made caused your heart to flutter hoping each step would be an inch closer to him standing right beside you, every mention of his name made you helplessly lift your head thinking you and him were in the very same room, every word he said to you was another word you would place high on a pedestal as if it were the most enchanting sentence your ears had ever heard. He had lucid locks of hair your hands had only dreamed of running themselves through. Skin as smooth as silk that sent electrical shivers down your spine with just one simple touch of his skin on yours. His dancing lyrical, his mind intelligent, and his soul beautiful. 

You were in love with Jamil Viper. And you were nearing the verge of insanity if you did not find out if he had felt the same. 

Days would seem to pass in no time at all—mainly because you would constantly be dazed with your mental consciousness never present at all—and it regrettably began to influence, not only your emotions, but the life lived around you as well. You could no longer keep still, your mind always drifting off into never-ending daydreams, friends concerned for your health, and your heart needing a definite answer before it exploded into a million pieces. Which was why you were there now, leaning on Ramshackle’s antique balcony, pulling at the dainty petals of a flower you had picked on your way back to your dorm after class. This had to be settled once and for all. In the name of your ever-pounding heart.

“He loves me, he loves me not,” your hopeful muttering played through the trees and grassland residing at the bottom of your balcony, each petal you gently picked off gracefully gliding down to touch the greenery as it twirled and spun in the wind. Going up to Jamil and directly asking him about his own feelings was obviously not an option in these circumstances; that was simply too bold for your taste. So, you had resolved to the next best thing for determining someone's romantic emotions: using flower petals to predict your crush’s feelings. 

Plucking another petal off of the delicate flower, you sighed wistfully as a gentle breeze began to comb through your hair, “He loves me, he loves me n—”

“What are you doing?”

“GAH! J-Jamil!” Upon hearing the calm voice of the Scarabia second year, your body jumped up in surprise as you hid the flower you had been holding behind the small of your back. Lifting your gaze up to face him, however, you had noticed something off about the way Jamil’s figure had slowly risen up and down as if he were flying in mid-air. That’s odd, you curiously thought, I don’t see a magical broom with him anywhere?

“What brings you here…floating on a…” a small pause cut your sentence as you looked over the balcony’s railings only to see a familiar piece of tapestry-like cloth hovering over the air—confusion plaguing your voice as you turned to look the boy directly in the eye, “magic…carpet? What the heck, Jamil?”

Jamil, softly clearing his throat, attempted to avoid eye contact as a hesitant hand shot up to nonchalantly cover a part of his face. For whatever reason, it had seemed like he was embarrassed—for what you did not know. You were too focused on hiding a burning blush on your end to notice the also red tint creeping onto the vice housewarden’s cheeks. Trying to continue on with what he had come here for, Jamil finally gained back some of his composure and looked back at you, “I noticed that you seemed…quite stressed this past week and thought that you could use a moment to clear your head. So, I borrowed Kalim’s carpet and headed straight for Ramshackle. Apologies for scaring you, though. That, I did not plan.”

“What do you mean?” you timidly asked, heart still palpitating miles and miles each second Jamil’s gray eyes had bore into your own. 

“I’m taking you with me to relax.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” you watched as Jamil had shifted his position to get a better angle before reaching his own hand out to latch onto yours. “Here, just take my hand. Don’t you dare second guess yourself,” he said as the sun over Ramshackle’s balcony reflected onto the shining gold accents of his charms and bracelets—causing him to glimmer brighter than any star you had ever seen, “And don’t worry either.”

“You can trust me.”

a/n: and then reader and jamil ride off into the dramatic sunset singing "a whole new world" throughout the entirety of nrc until jamil finds out kalim tried to cook again and jamil's little date is interrupted because he doesn't want the housewarden to burn down their whole dorm <3

[twistiraki]

Your wedding dance with the Twisted Wonderland Boys

🌹Riddle Rosehearts - "The Rose” Bette Midler 

As you sway to the gentle melody, Riddle pulls you closer and whispers, "I always thought love was foolish, but being with you has shown me that it's the most important thing in the world. I promise to always cherish you, protect you, and love you until the end of time."

❤️Ace Trappola - "The Way You Look Tonight" by Frank Sinatra

Ace Trappola spins you around the dance floor with ease, his eyes locked onto yours as you dance to "You always take my breath away," he says with a smile. "I promise to always make you laugh, to always be there for you when you need me. You're my partner in crime, now and forever."

♠️Deuce Spade - "Unchained Melody" by The Righteous Brothers

Deuce brushes a strand of hair out of your face as you dance and whispers, "You're the missing piece in my life, the one thing that makes everything make sense. I promise to always be your support, your confidante, and your partner in everything we do."

♣️Trey Clover - "At Last" by Etta James

Trey Clover pulls you close as you dance, his hand entwined with yours. "You make every moment feel like it's meant to be," he says softly. "I promise to always cherish you, to always respect you, and to always be the one you can turn to no matter what."

♦️Cater Diamond - "Marry you" by Bruno Mars

Cater Diamond looks into your eyes as you dance. His voice full of emotion. "I love you more than words can say," he says earnestly. "I promise to always be there for you, to always make you feel loved, and to always make every moment with you count."

🦁Leona Kingscholar - "Perfect" by Ed Sheeran

Leona holds you tightly as you dance, his voice low and sincere. "Now I’m truly in Upendi," he says, his eyes locked onto yours. "I promise to always be your protector, your king, and your biggest supporter in everything you do."

🍩Ruggie Bucchi - "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton

Ruggie pulls you close as you dance to the song, his voice soft and sincere. "I can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life," he says with a smile. "I promise to always make you feel special, to always be your best friend, and to always love you with all my heart."

🐺Jack Howl - "All of Me" by John Legend

As you sway to the music, Jack looks into your eyes with love and adoration. "You complete me," he says, his voice full of emotion. "I promise to always be your mate, your confidante, and your rock in everything we do."

🐙Azul Ashengrotto - "Fly Me to the Moon" by Frank Sinatra

Azul twirls you around the dance floor with a smile as you dances. You are my sun, my moon, and my stars," he says with a grin. "I promise to always make you feel loved, to always make you feel like the most important person in the world, and to always be there for you whenever you need me. On both land and sea."

🍄Jade Leech - "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" by Frankie Valli

Jade holds you close as you dance to the upbeat doo-wop tune, his voice full of joy. "You're the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me," he says with a grin. "I promise to always be at your service, whenever you call, and to always make sure you're happy."

👟Floyd Leech - "Stand by Me" by Ben E. King

Floyd sways with you to the beat of the music, his voice full of warmth. "You are my shrimpy," he says grinning. "I promise to always be there for you, to always support you, and to always be the one you can turn to no matter what. Together, we can conquer the world."

🦦Kalim Al-Asim - "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri

Kalim looks into your eyes as you dance to the romantic song, his voice full of love. "I knew from the moment I met you that you were the one," he says, his hand on your cheek. “You are my whole new world," he says. "I promise to always love you, to always cherish you, Together, we can make our dreams come true."

🐍Jamil Viper - "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain

As you sway to the tune,, Jamil pulls you close and whispers, "You're everything I ever wanted in a partner, in a soulmate, and in a friend. I promise to always be there for you, to always support you, and to always love you with everything I am. I trust you with my heart."

🪞Vil Schoenheit - "I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston

As you dance with Vil, he holds you close and whispers in your ear, "You are the light of my life. I will always love you, no matter what happens." You smile and feel a tear roll down your cheek.”Finally I get to play the hero in my own story. My own happy ending.”

🏹Rook Hunt - "Unforgettable" by Nat King Cole

Rook looks at you with a smile and says, "You are unforgettable," he says. "I promise to always cherish every moment we spend together, to always come to your needs, and to always love you with all my heart. J’taime." Together, you dance the night away, lost in each other's love.

🍎Epel Felmier - "When You Say Nothing at All" by Ronan Keating

As you dance with Epel, he pulls you close and whispers, "I don't need words to express how much I love you. Just being with you, dancing with you, is enough for me." You smile and hold him tighter.”Thank you for taking me for who I am.”

💀Idia Shroud - "Iris" by Goo Goo Dolls

As you dance with Idia, he holds you gently and sings along with the song. "And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am." You feel a warmth in your heart..”Thank you for making my small family a little bit bigger.”

🤖Ortho Shroud - "Turning Page" by Sleeping At Last

As you dance with Ortho, he takes your hand and twirls you around. "You make me feel like I'm living in a fairytale," he says, "and I never want this moment to end." You giggle and feel your heart flutter.”You are the one that brightens my world with new things every day!”

🐉Malleus Draconia - "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis Presley

As you dance with Malleus, he holds you tightly. He takes your hand and says, "Every time I look at you, I fall in love all over again. You are my heart and my soulmate, and I promise to love and protect you always."

🦇Lilia Vanrouge - "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane

As you dance with Lilia, he looks at you with a soft smile. "With you, I've found my own little world, a place where we can be together and forget about everything else." You feel a sense of belonging and lean into him.

💤Silver - "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith

Silver looks into your eyes with a soft smile. He whispers in your ear, "You mean everything to me. I promise to always be here for you, no matter what. I don't want to miss a single moment with you. You are my dream come true."

⚡Sebek Zigvolt - "You Are the Best Thing" by Ray LaMontagne

As you dance with Sebek, he looks into your eyes with a tender smile. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me," he exclaims loudly, "and I will always treasure every moment we spend together. "You are My human." You feel your heart skip a beat and smile back at him.

[cecilebutcher]

ღLaufey songs I associate with twst boysღ

I’m back on my musical bullshit😎 just so we’re clear, this has zero thoughts, behind it o7 Enjoy!!

!!Don’t like,it does nothing. Reblog instesd!!

Characters: Every nrc student + some oc’s

Riddle Rosehearts: like the movies

“Maybe I'm just old fashioned. Read too many fairytales. It's no wonder I've had no luck, no one's ever good enough. I want a love like I've seen in the movies.That's why I'll never fall in love”

Trey Clover: I wish you love

“And in July a lemonade. To cool you in some leafy glade. I wish you health. And more than wealth. My breaking heart and I agree. That you and I could never be. So with my best, my very best. I set you free”

Cater Diamond: someone new

“I have to get off Instagram. I keep on going back. Looking at our memories. I know that you will soon delete. We turn to strangers in a day. Now you walk away. Every time I catch your eye. When did you become so shy?”

Ace Trappola: Best friend

“I have never tolerated someone for so long. I've never laughed so much. I haven't written a sad song. There's no one else I'd rather fall asleep with. And dream with. You're my best friend in the world”

Deuce Spade: just like Chet

“Why did you put me through. 11 months of "you're so pretty's, " "I miss you's"? It's absurd what even occurred between autumn and spring. If you never loved me. In a perfect world. I wouldn't have met you that night. Would've stayed with my friends. And just danced 'til the morning light”

Leona Kingscholar: Valentine

“I've rejected affection. For years and years. Now I have it, and damn it. It's kind of weird. He tells me I'm pretty. Don't know how to respond. I tell him that he's pretty too. Can I say that? Don't have a clue”

Ruggie Bucchie: Promise

“It hurts to be something. It's worse to be nothing with you. I've done the math. There's no solution. We'll never last. Why can't I let go of this?”

Jack Howl: lucky for me

“When the sun goes away in the autumn. And the leaves trickle down from the trees. The heat of the summer's forgotten. You'll be here, so lucky for me. You don't tell me to shut up. Even when I talk too much you smile at me. Say, "Don't worry"”

Azul Ashengrotto: From the start

“Oh, the burning pain. Listening to you harp on 'bout some new soulmate. "She's so perfect, " blah, blah, blah. Oh, how I wish you'll wake up one day. Run to me, confess your love, at least just let me say”

Jade Leech: above the Chinese restaurant

“Street sounds blistered with neon lights. Heard the neighbors snoring every other night. Eating dumplings from next door. Finish 'em up they'd give us some more. Didn't realize we had it all. Even when the roof came caving in that fall. Oh, I loved you more than you know. Covered in the flakes of crystal white snow”

Floyd Leech: dancing with you tonight

“Silly boy, don't talk to me. I don't have the energy. Please don't ask to dance with me tonight. I do better on my own (on my own). I don't mean to come off cold (come off cold). But my dear, I'm all danced out tonight. Now the gin is hitting me. And it's almost half-past three. Am I crazy or seeing things? I'm sorry if I can't go for another swing”

Kalim Al-Asim: Magnolia

“A word from her lips, her sirens kiss. Will send you straight into abyss. Magnolia, I wish she'd give her secrets away. Enchants everyone and I think it'd be fun. To be like her someday. But I cannot compete with her. Perfection is the only word. I think of when I think of Magnolia. She doesn't know that the world is turning just for her”

Jamil Viper: Street by Street

“Step by step, brick by brick. I'm reclaiming what's mine. This city is way too small. To give away to just one guy. Street by street, breath by breath. From the Back Bay to the sky. I'm taking back my city. I'm Taking back my life. The cafe Where you asked me for my name. The bookstore we spent Five hours hiding from the rain”

Vil Shoenheit: beautiful stranger

“What if I would've stayed on the train? Dared to stand up and ask for his name. Maybe we would have exchanged a few words. A fairytale moment could have occurred. But my beautiful stranger will have to remain. A stranger until I see him again. See him again. Hmm, mmh.”

Rook Hunt: fragile

“The soft candle glow. The music so slow. Your skin on my skin. The room is spinning. Nerve in my bone. I'm shaking oh no. I'm talking though I shouldn't be. I've lost all sensibility. I've never been so fragile”

Epel Felmier: falling behind

“'Cause the sun's engaged to the sky. And my best friend's found a new guy. I'm only getting older. I've never had a shoulder to cry on. Someone to call mine. Everybody's falling in love and I'm falling behind”

Idia Shroud:this is how it feels(ft. D4vd)

“This is how it feels. To fall in love with you. To always think of you. To always dream of you. Yes, it hurts so much. To fall in love with you. So if this is how it feels. Tell me if our love is real. There's some type of strange appeal. To the way it was so effortless, uh. I cannot help it”

Malleus Draconia: Bewitched

“You bewitched me. From the first time that you kissed me. Waited all night. Then we ran down the street in the late London light. The world froze around us, you kissed me good night. You bewitch me. Every damn second you're with me. I try to think straight. But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart. You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart. And bewitched me. Bewitched”

Lilia Vanrouge: night light

“Cardboard boxes covеring the floor. Guess I won't be living in here anymore. Take down the posters of the pop stars on the wall. Empty room, it looks so small. All of the laughter. All the sleepless nights. Waiting for ever after. Snow falling outside, keeping on the night light”

Silver (Vanrouge): let you break my heart again

“One day, I will stop falling in love with you. Some day, someone will like me like I like you. Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend that we are more than friends. Then of course I'll let you break my heart again. Some day, one day. I will stop falling in love with you. Until I do. I'll be thinking of you. Let you break my heart again”

Sebek Zigvolt: dear soulmate

“Dear soulmate. Do you think of me? 'Cause I do. Do you have green eyes or are they brown like mine? Do you have a sister too? Dear soulmate. One day I'll give this song you. We will drive up to the mountains? Camp in a little tent? When the bears come at night. Will you put up a fight? Or will you hide with me in my flashlight?”

Ibhana “Vesper” Baske: questions for the universe

“Falling in love feels more like crashing. Stars spin around my head. So I'm asking. Will my worries ever melt away? Mm. Run out of sentences to say. Wish that I could put this into better words. Will I ever fall in love or will I always search?”

Tao Yúchi: second best

“I'll never forget how stupid in love I felt. I'll always regret how I couldn't ever tell. That you walked a little faster, left me behind. Kissed me with somebody else in mind. I loved you so much. That I settled for less. Oh, you were my everything. I was your second best.”

Igor Kazentoc: serendipity

“I won't pretend I've been anxious. Just like I've always been. This time it's sticking. And time just stops ticking. When I have my arms around you. Four-leaf clovers and lucky dimes. Coincidences and cosmic signs. Have proved that I am quite naive. I'm falling fast, filling gravity. And all that I see is serendipity”

Junto Shuisha: everything I know about love

“I wouldn't mind (ahh). I heard that falling fast is so divine. Are these songs just telling plain old lies? 'Cause that's everything I know about love (ooh, ooh). Everything I know about love (ooh, ooh). I don't know that much at all. I trip, I fall. Every time I try, it's all too much. That's everything I know about love”

Jasper Spade: slow down

“I wish it would slow down. Even for a second. I'm so old now. Left my adolescence. Going out to parties. And getting way too drunk. Think I found somebody. But don't think that it's love. I wish it would slow down. Slow down. Mhm, mhm. ”

Aikat Spanos: I’ve never been in love before

“I've never been in love before. I thought my heart was safe. I thought I knew the score. But this is why. It's all too strange and strong. I'm full of foolish song, and out my song must pour. So please forgive this helpless haze I'm in. I've really never been in love before”

Phobes Spanos: what love will do to you

“Lately, I've been in a haze. Running late, can't think straight. The world feels smaller, yet the trees look taller. There's enchantment in the air. I know I sound stupid, I do. That's what love will do to you. Read my favorite book. For the hundredth time. At least I know of how it ends. In real life it just all depends”

Yes I know I placed valentine for my baby boy Sebek in the last post, but it fits Leona this time ok?

Anywho hope ya’ll enjoyed this as much as I had fun writing this:D

Finally back to posting shit!! I have had this in my drafts for ages

!!requests are open!!

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

[yuurei20]

Hello! I was wondering if you had a post compiling how each character refers to themself & addresses others or if there are only mentions in their respective personal compilation? (I only remember Vil always refers to himself as "atashi" except that one time in Ghost Marriage where he referred to himself as "boku", Deuce referring to his upperclassmen by their last names + senpai, Azul & Jade calling everyone by their name + san, Kalim calling everyone by their names without any honorifics, etc.) Thank you very much for being such a reliable source of twst info 💖

Hello hello! You are too kind, thank you so much, I very much appreciate it!! ♡

There is a chart at the back of the Magical Archives Game Guide that lists all the pronouns used by everyone and how they refer to others, which is amazing, but it is also a little incomplete: there is no listing for how Leona refers to Trey, for example, or a reference to the scene in New Years where Deuce refers to Jamil as Jamil-senpai instead of his usual Viper-senpai, or the one time in Book 5 that Epel drops the -kun from Deuce's name (this is probably because the guide was published in 2020, before those scenes existed in-game).

A very long time ago I translated all of that information into an excel sheet with the intention of listing all the EN-server localizations for contrast, but the project has since stalled :< It is so much information that I am not sure Tumblr will even let me share it:

I tried looking around for other resources and this wiki was my favorite!

In addition to listing pretty detailed information about who refers to who in what way, there are sometimes even notes of where in the story you can find the exceptions to each rule, like Ace calling Riddle a red tyrant in Book 1, Chapter 18 of the main story.

It seems a little incomplete though, with no mention of Cater dropping the "-kun" from Trey's name in Book 1 in an important moment, for example.

I have been slowly collecting this information for each student as a part of the character sheets that are shared to this blog every day, so maybe I will try compiling it all into one big index! :> Thank you very much for the idea!

Example:

・Jamil Info Compilation part 4: Dancing, Fairy Gala and Honorifics ・Leona Info Compilation part 4: Sleeping and Honorifics ・Ortho Info Compilation part 4: Appearance, Honorifics and Games ・Riddle Info Compilation part 9: Riddle, Food and Honorifics ・Ruggie Info Compilation Part 2: Ruggie's Speech Patterns ・Silver Info Compilation part 4: Appearance and Emotions

[binint]

ೃ⁀➷ "Everything I know about Love"

A Twisted Wonderland Series based off of Laufey's beautiful album "Everything I know about Love"

(ongoing series)

Synopsis for stories may not reflect the final piece :")

Dance with You Tonight ➻ Ace Trappola

╰─▸ "You're a charmer that's for sure, but I can't stand anymore. Shame I would've danced with you tonight..."

Prom with you would be perfect.

----

Fragile ➻ Deuce Spade

╰─▸ "Your skin on my skin, the room is spinning..."

┊͙School is rough, classes, sports and the cherry on top: chores. Everyday more work than the next. One moment of calm would be nice wouldn't it?

----

Beautiful Stranger ➻ Idia Shroud

╰─▸ "A fairytale moment could've occurred, but my beautiful stranger will have to remain a stranger until I see him again..."

┊͙You needed help fixing your laptop and Crowley knew the exact person to ask.

----

Above the Chinese Restaurant ➻ Rook Hunt

╰─▸ "I still freeze when I look at these faded photographs from February, last twenty-second or twenty-third..."

┊͙You have some photos from your old world and reminisce of a time you can't imagine anymore.

----

Dear Soulmate ➻ Floyd Leech

╰─▸ "Dear soulmate, I can't wait to fall in love with you..."

┊͙Soulmates have always been a foreign language to you, but in this new world, these tales of destiny and soulmates seem to be translating.

----

What Love will do to You ➻ Jade Leech

╰─▸ "Losing my mind, drunk on jazz and wine..."

┊͙You can't get him out of your head, why won't he leave your mind?

----

I've Never Been in Love Before ➻ Sebek Zigvolt

╰─▸ "So please, forgive this helpless haze I'm in. I've never really been in love before..."

┊͙Falling in love for the first time is scary and sometimes you end up doing strange and irrational things

----

Just like Chet ➻ Ruggie Bucchi

╰─▸ "I don't know anything about love and its' foolish tendencies, and just like Chet I tend to fall in love too easily..."

┊͙

----

Everything I know about Love ➻ Jack Howl

╰─▸ "I don't know that much at all, I trip I fall, every time I try it's all too much. That's everything I know about love..."

┊͙From all the fairytales that have been read to you as a child, you would expect to know a little bit more about love.

----

Falling Behind ➻ Jamil Viper

╰─▸ "I've never had a shoulder to cry on, someone to call mine. Everybody's falling in love, and I'm falling behind..."

┊͙You've always been way too busy for anything other than school and now is a good time to relax, if ever a time.

----

Hi ➻ Azul Ashengrotto

╰─▸ "Now I'm dreaming of your moonlight glow from my empty studio, hoping that you'll say 'hello' to me..."

┊͙You've always been a nervous figure, the 1st years only being the people truly close to you. You should probably go out and say "hi."

----

Valentine ➻ Silver

╰─▸ "Don't know how to respond. I tell him that he's pretty too. Can I say that? Don't have a clue..."

┊͙Valentine's day has always been one of your favorite holidays, isn't it nice you get to spend it with your favorite person?

----

Night Light ➻ Secret

╰─▸ "Guess I won't be living in here anymore. Take down the posters of the pop stars on the wall. Empty room, it looks so small..."

┊͙Twisted Wonderland has such a lasting impact on your life. Nice things don't always last forever though.

[tuzesdays]

Into the y/n verse! a small bit of writing for @bunmuffin, @sleepykas, and @cacaocheri because the server has been loving the ATLA au. here you go <3

Some Things Stay The Same

There wasn't a set moment when Viper decided they would be hanging around three firebenders for the rest of their life. Originally they had thought it would be a one-off thing - they were off on their own safety searching, after all, and Viper definitely had nothing to contribute to the safety of some fires.

Every day they stayed, it was always 'just a few more days'. A few more days, until they hit the next city. A few more days, until they can forget the spike of fear at seeing their own handiwork. A few more, because Charlie asked them to stay. A few more, because Kori shared a favorite food and they can't stomach leaving immediately after.

'A few more days' became a thought that happened less and less. The road isn't noisy with their new group, but it's certainly less empty. They hunt for four now. They hum along with a song instead of starting one to stave off the night.

They mindfully turn away from an unlit campfire until after Rity touches it.

It's an easy peace that Viper isn't used to in the slightest. Too many times they've had their only possessions ripped from them, endured the frantic, angry fight to get them back.

Charlie doesn't steal from them, despite how close they sit during the night. Neither does Kori or Security, despite Rity's clear hunger and Kori's occasional glance at the soft bit of fluff peeking out of their bag.

In exchange, trust comes slow and sure.

That's around the time they meet a 'rebel faction'.

It's a bunch of kids, which Viper isn't enthusiastic about. The leader invites them - specifically Viper - to wander their encampment, see how they do things. Some of the traps are clever, and saying as much earns them a few smiles from otherwise weary children. These kids have a certain amount of stubborn anger against the Fire Nation that Viper can't help but relate to: after all, they've all been hungry during the war. But what becomes plainly obvious the longer they stay is that they're kids.

And kids, unfortunately, have a habit of ignoring the shades between black and white.

"Those three you came in with," the scrawney, barely-fifteen leader says to them after their tour, "They seem nice, but… have you ever looked at their eyes?"

Viper considers him. He's trying to sound understanding but falling just short - speaking to them as if they're a clueless child gets their hackles up before the subject matter has a chance to click. But click it does.

Viper's seen the traps. They've spent time witnessing the anger. These kids, as much as they are kids, are dangerous.

"Plenty of people have gold eyes," they tell him, feigning attention to the small bit of clay they had been dancing around their palm. "The war has been going for a hundred years. Plenty of Earth Kingdom mothers were taken advantage of. Plenty of Fire Nation deserters saw what they were doing was wrong. Eye color doesn't say as much as you think it does."

"And what about wanted posters?"

They still.

"What?"

"Sorry you had to find out like this, but…" he pulls out a sheet of paper, rain-stained and worn. "Some of us thought your friend looked familiar. One of our people still in town gave me this."

The face that stares at Viper through parchment and time is familiar. Short, shorn hair. A Fire Nation uniform - high ranking. Dull eyes fixed on the middle distance. He looks even more tired than he does now, but they figured Rity's habit of pushing himself to the edge of ruin was something he's had for a long while.

"This is for a deserter guard for the missing princess to the Fire Nation." The kids says. "Rumor is that he kidnapped her. Lots of talk about why, but you wanna know what I think? I think-" he continues without pause- "that he took her on Ozai's orders. So that even if there's an attack on the palace, the royal line would still have a way to continue the war until all of us are dead and gone."

… Yeah, this is a child.

"Ignoring that that would be the stupidest plan imaginable from a man who claims to be a better war strategist than his father," they glare him down. "My friends have been nothing but kind to everyone we've met. They eat with me. They starve with me. The only fires that I ever see from them is the tiny spark that starts up our campfires. Your plans and traps are clever, but you can't make up the lack of awareness with those - they're people, not some shadow agents sent specifically to take you down." Viper snorts. "Hate to break it to you kid, but you’re not that special."

He drops the friendly act and tries to match them. "They’re Fire Nation. They’re all Fire Nation, from the capital city itself - one of your friends has killed hundreds of Earth Kingdom fighters. Freedom fighters, like us! You can't forgive them for that."

They need to gather their people and leave. Now. "Forgiveness doesn't have anything to do with it. He's repenting the only way he can without dying."

"Then maybe he should."

A switch gets flipped in the back of their mind.

Enemy.

Well, they've always been a firm believer in the lesson a fist to the face can give people. Now - for a demonstration.

VVVVV

Kori comes to them later that night, long after everyone's had the chance to get bandaged and fed from the meagre supplies they managed to forage for earlier in the week. Too tired to hunt. Viper glances at him in greeting, shifts slightly in invitation. He sits next to them, leaning into their side.

"… Thank you. For staying."

They smile and nudge their shoulder into his. "Can't get rid of me yet. Fun as 'freedom fighting' might be, those idiots have a lot of big ideas and not enough sense." They snort. "Gonna have to do a lot better than that to convince me."

"Is that why you started fighting them?"

"Nah. I punched the leaders nose in because he insulted Rity."

A sputter from across the campsite. Charlie starts laughing. Security sits up straighter and gapes at them in surprise. "You what?"

"Those assholes took one look at your eyes and didn't wanna see anything else." Viper scoffs. "Far as I'm concerned, they needed a lesson in looking out for actual threats."

"And THAT'S why you fought them!?"

"No, I fought them because they shit-talked you to my face, I swear I already said this."

In the corner of their eye, Viper sees Kori lose a measure of tension in his shoulders as he looks at them.

Even as Rity scolds them for starting fights in his name, that alone makes it worth every bruise.

[worldussysblog]

People you Know || Jamil Viper

This is the second and last part of this post

https://www.tumblr.com/worldussysblog/723240435509837824/people-you-know-kalim-al-asim?source=share

Warnings: Slight book 4 spoilers , slight mention of Azul x Jamil , angst with a happy ending and some grammatical errors.

Clarification: The relationship between Kalim and Jamil is purely platonic.

Summary: In which Jamil had found out the truth behind his sudden 'Freedom' . Who knows that maybe the both of them accepting and knowing the truth could be the one that will help them reconcile with one another.

Jamil couldn't believe his ears after hearing the news that was bestowed on him , never in a million years would he imagine that the day the Al Asim family would set them free from being their servant after generations after generations of serving their family would come and that day will be today.

At first Jamil was over the moon after he heard the news from his sister but he immediately stops as realization hits him, what was the Al Asim family thinking when they decided to set them free moreover what made them do a decision such as that?.

But nonetheless he brushes it off , I mean instead of wasting time thinking of it why not make the most of his freedom while he's at it? 

And so he did. He live his life of freedom. He live like there's no tomorrow.

On the first day of his new life, Jamil did everything he can't do while he's still serving the Al Asim Family mainly because of him. 

And so the days had passed by Jamil did all of the things he badly wanted to do but couldn't because of Kalim. Like practicing  his break dancing ,  improve his grades without holding back and most importantly he gets to think for himself for once.

But... Why? 

Why does it feel like something is wrong? 

LIke something or someone is missing? 

Sure his living the dream life he had always longed for but he couldn't help but feel that something was amiss but he once again brushes it of like last time.

Jamil never thought that the day he would befriend the cunning and shady housewarden of Octavinelle will ever come and yet here he was sitting across Azul  and his two companions.

As much as he hates to admit it Azul is really an interesting man despite his shady business along with the leech brothers. But... He couldn't help but feel a sense of deja Vu everytime they play games together.

Jamil often wonders why does he feel that way.

Ahh that's right , as much as he despise to admit it , admit the fact that everytime he sees Azul all he could see is Kalim and what bothers him the most is that every time Azul and Him would converse all he could hear is Kalim's voice , heck there was one time Azul had smiled at him and Kalim's dumb stupid smile is what had flash in his mind. 

He hates it no  he loathes it he loath the fact that even after being freed from hisservant duty all he could still think is Kalim , hell there was always a time where his thoughts revolve around that person , he often asked himself 

"Is Kalim doing alright all by himself?" 

"He didn't accidentally set himself on fire again this time is he?"

"How is he doing right now?" 

These thoughts keep going on and on , it won't stop even after telling himself that he never cared about that guy and that he only look out for him is because it's his duty as a servant right? Right. 

Jamil keeps telling himself that but is it really? Did he really never care for Kalim? Did he even consider Kalim a friend or is there friendship one-sided?

The answer is simple and it's No, that's what the voice inside his mind had said but he doesn't understand on why is the answer is No. 

But now? Now that he finally knows the reason behind his sudden 'Freedom'?  He finally understood why the answer is No.

It's because he didn't care/look out and take care of Kalim just because it's his duty as a servant , he did it all because he himself considered Kalim a friend. That right he sees Kalim as a friend but because of his pride he refuse to admit it that's why he put on a facade to hide the truth , he made himself look like a bad guy in everyone's eyes because he refuse to admit something so simple.

Ha maybe that's why he felt his chest hurting when he say the look on Kalim's face after he found out that he betrayed him. 

He quickly composed himself , he needed to Kalim , he needs to know the reason why he decided to convince his parents to set the Viper Family from their generational duty. 

Jamil immediately looked for Kalim around the campus to hear his reasons but when he finally manage to talk to him , the answer he received was beyond his expectations.

"I finally accepted the truth Jamil, you don't have to play nice with me anymore, You're free" Kalim said as he smiled at him though his smile didn't reach his eyes.

That was the last straw for Jamil , it doesn't sit right with him anymore , hiding his true feelings he needed to let it out.

And so he did. He told Kalim everything form the start and how he considered him as a friend but refuse to admit it due to his pride. He realizes that without Kalim it doesn't feel right.

Days had passed since the confession of the truth , the two friends turn strangers to friends once again had reconcile with one another , promising to never hide their true feelings and to never let go of each other ever again. 

Maybe this time these two friends can find happiness and help each other overcome any hardships that may come to their way. 

THE END💗

[ohmypawsandwhiskers]

Now that that chapter is finally posted, I can share the bit that made me go absolutely feral! You can read the full chapter over on Ao3!

“Fuck!” A knock at the door startled Lozen from her beading, the needle pricking her finger with more force than was needed to go through the cloth, drawing a small pinprick of crimson. Her foul mood from earlier deepened with the intrusion that served as another constant reminder that she was not free. Would probably never be. “I’m still here, you can piss off now and tell Shadis to relax or else his face will end up with a permanent scowl.”

“I would be willing to bet it’s too late for such a prevention,” Erwin’s voice came from the other side of the door, “but I will be sure to pass along the message all the same.”

Dread pooled in her stomach at the thought of having to be at the receiving end of the lecture she’d somehow avoided up until this point. She was tense enough as it was, hands as shaky as her hold onto the present as the past lapped at her heels, threatening to pull her under as it had done at the top of that tree. She set down the cloth she was working on and rose from her desk, feet heavy as she crossed over to crack open the door. “Look, Sir, I know I-“

“Right now, I’m not here as a superior officer, but rather as a concerned friend,” he interrupted with a smile that made her heart break at how it brought to mind a younger, more open version of him. “You were absent at dinner.”

“I didn’t feel much like eating,” she muttered, her eyes glancing down to her feet for a moment before shrugging and meeting his gaze again. “Still feeling that way to be honest, in case you’re here to convince me otherwise.”

“I would hardly force you to do something that you did not wish to do,” he offered. “It would be foolish of me to attempt to achieve such a loft aspiration,” his smile reassured her, stifling the little voice in the back of her had that called for her to wrap the conversation up quickly. 

“Yeah, it would. So what is it? As you can see clearly, I’m fine. If that’s all, I’d really like to get back to beading.”

“I wanted to invite you to join me in my office. I have some paperwork that will take a while. I’m willing to bet you’ll be up late as well, so why suffer late nights in solitude? I’ll put on a kettle-“

“No reprimanding lectures?”

“I will grant you a pass for tonight,” Erwin offered up a hand as though he was swearing into a court of law, only lowering his hand as the corners of his lips drew upwards. “The kitchen sent up a dessert platter as a thank you- oh, my apologies. You wouldn’t be interested in that, I suppose.”

She pursed her lips, scrunching up her nose and crossing her arms over her chest. “Nobody likes a smart ass.”

“You’re right. That was very uncouth. My apologies. I’ll drop it, say no more.” He turned to leave but was stopped by her firm grip on his arm. 

“I said no one likes a smart ass, not that I wasn’t going to relieve you of at least half of those sweets.” Lozen poked him in the chest with her forefinger as a smile fought to break through the schooled scowl she wore while she returned to her room to grab her beading supplies. In the few moments that gained her, she had gained victory in maintaining the cross look, but he could still see the way the light danced in her eyes with a bit of hope as she said, “Lead the way.”

Sure enough, as the door to Erwin’s officer quarters clicked shut, a tiered silver tray of bite-sized desserts caught her eye, made all the more enticing by the fire roaring in the mantle a few feet behind it- its dancing crimson flames framed the scene in a beckoning warmth. 

“Well, it’s a good thing you have me, because there’s no way- even with your sweet tooth- you’d be able to finish all of this on your own.” The levity of her tone clashed with the heaviness of her spirits, but that dissonance was nothing new after the years in Stohess, smiling and playing nice with pit-vipers. It became automatic after a certain point, and she wasn’t sure if she could even switch it off now despite the safety Erwin afforded.

On one hand, he’d come through for her, pushing and prompting only when absolutely necessary. On the other hand, there was the horrible, inevitable truth that she was going to be letting him down and betraying his trust in the end. To limit the damage- to ensure that she could still follow through with her plan- she needed that mask wherever possible. 

Taking one of the mini tarts, she plopped down on the couch, humming at the taste of vanilla and blueberry that greeted her senses. Behind her, the clanging of the kettle, dulled by the water, told her Erwin was sticking to routine before he exited the kitchenette to place the copper pot over the fire. 

Meeting her watchful gaze, he smiled as she reached for another mini tart. “I can assume you’ll have a cup of tea to help with your lack of appetite?”

His smirk morphed into a look of shock as a jam cookie crumpled upon impact with his cheek. He wiped away the dollop of blackberry jam and inspected that incriminating proof that the assault had truly happened, making Lozen keel over in laughter. The stretch of muscles unused strained in effort, underutilized for so long that the dull pain served to underscore, and if she paused to think about it, it would remind her in its subtle way of how unhappy she’d been. And like a weakened dam, the laughter of the previous months and years suppressed burst through.    Raucous and gut-clenching, it was the noise of joy and light that had been reunited after so long spent apart that it provided reprieve from the gloom she carried, and if Erwin could, he’d bottle this moment up for them to savor during the rough and cloudy days. But the competitive side of him had also been stoked by the precision of the throw, and that side was hardly content with letting the moment be. 

She was blissfully oblivious to his approach, still seated and bent over her knees, the craft bag forgotten beside her. As he knelt in front of her, Lozen tried to stop the laughter, pressing her lips into a tight line, turning red in the face from effort as she met his gaze. 

“You know, I did say-“ Her words caught in her throat as a dollop of jam was flicked onto the tip of her nose. 

“And you should know that while it is nice to see you smiling again, I am not one to back down from an issued challenge.” Crisp, fiery blue eyes held her amber-gold ones, issuing a challenge of their own. Heat enveloped her ears as she pursed her lips, noting how his eyes registered the movement- one that she could capitalize on as she quickly swiped with dollop of jam onto her index finger to transfer it to his cheek.

Millimeters before achieving her dual goal of payback and distraction, Erwin caught her wrist, firmly halting her actions as a smirk of triumph accented chiseled features. “You need to be a bit faster if you want to succeed.”

The deep resonance of his voice, laced with the confidence and authority developed over years as a leader, made her very aware of how fast her heart was pounding- something Erwin could, no doubt, feel as he kept hold of her wrist. And as his breath mingled with hers, memories of clumsy and frantic hands tugging at cloths with the urgency of youth and all its novelty flooded her thoughts, contrasting the assured languid and teasing dance in which they now found themselves. 

The sudden, unbidden desire that juxtaposition brought frightened her. That fear warred with her own competitive heart, as its thudding in her ears seemed to urge her to call his bluff. Make him back down first, knowing that shy, respectful part of him from youth might be hidden, but it was existent. 

With practiced fluidity, Lozen shifted her eyes to the side before glancing back up at him. “That would be an issue best addressed in training, would it not, Sir?” The purr of that final word had its intended effect as she noticed his Adams apple bobbed with strained effort as his internal battle with self-imposed expectations reflected as storms in his eyes. 

Before the victor could be revealed however, the screeching of the kettle startled them both back to their gloomy reality, shattering the reprieve as they crashed back into their assigned roles of humanity’s hope and a lowly criminal. Responsibilities remained. Fleeting impulses wouldn’t change circumstances- she would still be loathed and feel the need to be on the run. And for him, while he seemed to no longer be the starry-eyed, romantic boy, but rather one wizened and sharpened by the harsh truths of the world, she knew that no matter how much he might want her at her side to seek out the Truth together, there would no place for her if he wanted to achieve his goal. Not after her mistakes. It would only complicate the already treacherous path he faced, making her nothing more than a roadblock. 

The lighter mood from moments past now felt like a faded, distant memory as she settled back onto the couch, focusing her attention back on the scrap of leather she had been previously working on. The shades of cyan, white, gold and green wove a pastoral scene into the smooth black material. 

Creeks and forest valleys of colored flowers could be brought where she roamed in the form of these muklucks. To an outsider, she was merely creating as a way to cope and distract from sour thoughts. In actuality, she was creating for survival. These shoes would carry her across whatever terrain awaited her. To remind her of all of her relatives that survived the journey to the walls, those fighting for survival now, and those that would come after, inheriting a world beyond kings or walls. 

The couch shifted beside her as Erwin took a seat, gently placing both cups of milky tea on the table in front of them with the shiny silver pastry tray that seemed an ocean away. 

Rather than look at him or reach for the tea, Lozen kept her focus on her work, sticking the needle from underneath the thick material, picking up two beads to pin down along the chalked-out design before continuing the process once more. “So, in how much of a shit-show am I facing?”

“I gave you my word I am merely a friend tonight. Those matters can wait for daylight-“

She glared at him from over her work, effectively halting his words. “Fine- as a friend- what do I need to prepare for? How badly did I fuck up this time- in my friend’s opinion?”

[pasteidolons]

𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔥𝔧𝔰 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦𝔦

pairing: hong jisoo x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: lee jihoon, choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan, xu minghao, lee chan, choi hansol warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 5.7k

taglist: @hipsdofangirl, @reiofsuns2001, @lovrehani

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔳

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 1𝔰𝔱, 663 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The sound of the broom sweeping against the stone entrance of the temple sounds rhythmic to your ears. As you reflect on being here for a little over a year now, you realize what a settled routine everyone’s come to, you’ve even been allowed more freedom to move around the compounds. Perhaps this freedom is what allows your guard to be down as a figure approaches you.

You see him in your periphery as you go to glance at the new buds on some nearby flowering trees, you face him, needing to squint as he nears. It’s obvious that he isn’t a part of the temple’s staff…

And there stands Hong Jisoo. The man who had affiliated himself with Baekje, who’d outed himself as an enemy to the Hwarang. Your grip around the broom handle tightens as nervous energy courses through you.

Almost as if he can sense your anxiousness, he looks to you and speaks with a warm tone, “I’m not here to take you away.” His eyes travel to the trees you’d been doting on before returning his gaze to you, “It’s been a while since I last stepped foot in Seorabeol… and I just happened to visit Bulguksa.”

“Did you think I’d believe that?” You ask, conviction raiding your tone.

“Well,” he sighs out, “If I’m being honest, I’ve come to check up on you, but my moods can be fickle. So, I decided to admire this temple instead.”

Your natural reaction should be to run and alert everyone that he’s here, but you doubt he’d let you get that far.

“Just to let you know,” Jisoo’s voice lowers for a moment, “If I’d come to take you away, then I would’ve already done so.”

Once again, he looks to the surroundings, not having a care in the world that he lay in a viper’s nest. A small smile graces his lips as he looks to the temple itself.

“Shrines, temples, palaces, the city… If humans can do one thing right, it’s building beautiful monuments.”

“Huh?” Dumbfounded by his demeanor, you can only just stand there.

“If you’re done trying to interrogate me, look up and try to admire what’s around you.”

Your brow furrows at his words, but you’re inexplicably drawn to do what he says. Normally, you’re so occupied with helping out around the temple, you never take the time to sit and marvel at the scenery. Yet now you look and you can sense life teeming from the trees that surround every corner of the compound. The soft, setting sun of spring accentuates the lighter details of the temple. It’s refreshing to sit back and watch spring dance around you, almost as if you’re seeing it for the first time.

“It’s beautiful…” You say as your eyes catch sight of a bird flying up to its roost in one of the temple’s support beams.

“Don’t you find it strange? Humans are capable of producing such beautiful things.” Jisoo sighs, “Yet, they think nothing of it when their wars reduce such beauty into ash, dust and fire. They’re all fools. And despite being of the same species, clan or family, they’ll find any reason to kill one another. They don’t even blink when it comes to deceiving their fellow man, lying their way to the top, and if they want something, they’ll steal it.”

He then looks at you, “What do you say? Wouldn’t you say humans are foolish?”

“There might be some people like that…” You shake your head, “That doesn’t apply to everyone.”

“Are you talking about those men?”

“Yes. Even though the Hwarang pride themselves for being warriors, they do it to protect the people of Seorabeol and the Crown.” You stand firmly on your hill, “It’s never for personal gain.”

What Jisoo had described is true, that there are many people in the world capable of evil, but you know that isn’t true of the Hwarang. You’ve spent enough time with them to realize that.

“Not too far from this temple lies another. A temple beside a temple. Have you ever thought about how odd that is?” Jisoo asks, “Long ago, before Silla was a mere conception, these two temples were part of a much more powerful temple. During a period of war, the forces of the western temple were successful in holding back the powers of the Jinhan for ten years. Do you think Hyeokgeose would allow this errant faction to be left as they were?”

“Well, I suppose not,” you answer and Jisoo nods at your response.

“So, the King operated behind-the-scenes, establishing this temple, isolating the original one.” Jisoo’s hand runs along one of the agate stones on the wall, “They manipulated the two entities, fanning the flames until the two sides eventually broke out into a fight. Essentially, they split the temple’s forces and funding in half, which exhausted all of their men and made long term war unfeasible.”

“Neither side knew that they were being manipulated, battling their former friends, allies and comrades, for hundreds of years. So, don’t you think this sounds familiar?”

“Are you talking about the Hwarang?”

He doesn’t answer you, only looking coldly out to the courtyard. “These men, in whom you’ve foolishly placed your faith, are only pawns of the King. They won’t realize they’re pawns until it’s too late, and they will forever be Silla’s bitches, swinging their swords to put food on the table.” The man shifts, his arms crossing, “They have no sense of the bigger picture, nor do they show any regard for others. All they care about is advancing their self-interests.” Eyes shifting to you, “You’re telling me that your faith in humans is because of men like them?”

“Even then, I’d have faith in them.” You say, unwavering, “I’ve lived with them for the past few years and seen them closely. Everyone struggles, and they’ve put forth so much effort to achieve what they believe is right. So… I don’t think they are like the people you think they are.”

“So, you think the Hwarang are just, and you don’t care if they kill one another, or participate in their needless wars?”

“That—No, it wouldn’t be alright,” his question stops you for a moment.

Jisoo smiles and lets out a soft laugh, “Aren’t you a selfish one? But I do commend your desire to keep loyalty for those you have faith in, even if it’s futile.”

“What do you mean?” You question, furrowing your brow.

“Well,” he sighs out, “it seems like I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He straightens himself nonchalantly, brushing his shoulder.

You look at him, wondering if he really had just come to sightsee.

“Do you want me to abduct you or something?” He smirks, noticing your expression. His countenance then wavers, becoming serious as he’s thought of something, “Let me tell you something… These men that you’re so fond of, they’re just a bunch of dumb nobles who’ve convinced themselves that they’re warriors just because they own a sword. They draw their swords when they’re told and they kill their own men without batting an eyelash. I wouldn’t trust such people.”

“But everyone—”

“When the time comes, I will come for you.” Jisoo says, “Think hard on what I said until then.”

“Come for me—” You begin, reaching out for him, but a gust of wind blows between your fingertips and just like that, he’s gone.

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 5𝔱𝔥, 663 – 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 In the late months of 662, King Munmu had purged several members of his council for being either directly connected to or sympathetic towards the efforts of the Baekje revivalists. Now not only the revivalists themselves, but anyone who the Crown deems compassionate towards the cause, will be branded a traitor and an enemy of the Kingdom.

The loyalists laid low for a time, yet as the days, weeks and months progressed, more and more outrage began to grow in the hearts of those who feel as if Silla has done them wrong. Rumors of an insurgency began to spread throughout the peninsula, with the Baekje revivalists calling for the return of Buyeo Pung, the son of the last Baekje king. Not knowing how baseless these rumors were, the Crown asked Kwak Youngmin to head an expedition to the former capital of Sabi to investigate the claims.

It comes to pass that the expedition proves to be a fruitless venture, Youngmin writes as much in a letter received at Bulguksa this morning. He writes that he is to return immediately, the cost and expenditure of the venture far too much for the little information recovered.

Riding on the coattails of nothing, you set out with Choi Hansol this morning to accompany him on his rounds. An uneasy feeling fueling you with what may come in the weeks and months to pass.

“I’m glad winter’s finally over,” you note as you walk with him, thankfully that you no longer have to wear a thick coat when you go out on rounds.

“As am I,” he replies, his answer short and simple. His gaze flickers to a nearby shop before he looks to the men behind him, “We can start here and begin our rounds.” Hansol then turns to you, “You can wait outside if you’d like, I’m sure there’s nothing in here that would interest you.”

“Alright,” you nod before he and the handful of men make their way inside of the store, leaving you alone outside. His voice muffled from the interior, but you can hear him questioning the owner of the shop over a few accusations that had arisen recently. A few more minutes pass as you idly stand outside before you notice a commotion a bit further down the street.

A bawdy group of soldiers make their way through the crowd, pushing, shoving and spewing less than pleasant profanities as they laugh amongst one another. For members of the kingdom’s army, they never seem to have respect towards the people they protect. You’d come across some before, never able to do much about their behavior. And now the Hwarang aren’t here, still holed up in the shop behind you with their investigation.

One soldier knocks a child down as they pass, you’re not sure if it’s intentional but your instincts kick in and you race over to help the kid to their feet. You’re about to shout something at them, the anger towards their attitudes bubbling within you rapidly, but before you can, someone else calls them out.

“Stop right there!” It comes from a woman, an angered expression on her face as she marches over to them.

“Are you trying to tell us what to do?” A soldier laughs at her, “We’re here to keep you safe, miss.”

“Is pushing around people keeping them safe?” She bites, venom in her words, “It’s a little pathetic to act all big and strong to people who can’t even fight back.”

The soldier’s temper lit, he makes a grab for her and misses entirely. It looks as if he’s trying to move for her once more before you spring to your feet and jump between them.

“WAIT!” You shout out, trying to make your voice sound deeper than it is. It’s then you realize what you’ve done, your arm outstretched to keep the soldier from coming any closer to the woman.

“This your girlfriend or something?” the soldier snickers at you, “Who are you?”

“I don’t know her,” you shake your head, “but I can’t just stand by while you try to hurt her.”

“Why don’t you keep your nose out of my goddamn business you bastard,” The soldier says through grit teeth, flecks of spittle flying out of his mouth with each word.

“If you’re a true soldier of the kingdom, then why are you abusing your power over children and women?” You argue back, unsure of where you’re getting the strength to sound so authoritative when your knees feel wobbly, “A soldier is meant to protect the people, not take advantage of them!”

“The fuck did you just say?” You’re sure if there wasn’t an audience watching this happen, the soldier would have ripped into you with the blade at his hip.

From somewhere in the crowd, a man shouts out, condemning the action of the soldier. A few more voices rise out in agreement, your speech must’ve encouraged the people to call out the soldier’s behavior.

“You son of a bitch,” the familiar sound of a blade being unsheathed rings in your ears as you watch the soldier take out his sword.

 Eyes widening, you at first think to move to dodge the attack, but that would leave the woman you’re trying to protect vulnerable. So, you move to reach for your own blade before the soldier lets out a groan and falls face first onto the ground in front of you. Looking up, you see Hansol standing there, his hands holding his still sheathed blade.

“I used the hilt,” he notes, looking down to the soldier before looking back up to you, “He should be out for quite a while.” Hansol then looks to the Hwarang accompanying him before giving them an order, “Take him and his men back to Bulguksa, they may have information on the loyalists.”

The Hwarang quickly get to work tying up and escorting the men away, leaving just you, the woman and Hansol alone on the street. Hansol now looks at you, trying to figure out what had happened.

“That was reckless,” he sighs out, “I was just inside, you could’ve asked me to help. What would you have done if they injured you?”

“I couldn’t stop myself,” you shake your head, “What if she were to get injured?”

“He’s right though,” the woman speaks up from behind you, stepping forward so she’s in line with you, “I feel like I was handling the situation well enough.”

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” you look a bit shocked, fully expecting the scolding from Hansol, but not from the woman. After giving her a short bow, her eyes widen as if she’s remembering something.

“You did save me though, didn’t you?” She now bows towards you, “Thank you! I forgot myself for a second.”

“I really didn’t do anything,” you chuckle nervously, “It was Captain Choi here and his men that did the work.”

“Even still,” she insists, “it’s way more respectable than just watching it all go down. Young ladies have to watch out for one another, you know?”

Hansol’s gaze travels from her to you, an expression crossing his features that you can’t quite name. “…You can’t expect to fool everyone you meet.” He says after a moment, letting you know that your jig is up.

“Were you trying to pretend to be a boy?” She sounds incredulous, the soft pinks of her shirts shimmering brightly in the sunlight, “Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it…”

You’re not sure how to respond to her, in it of itself your whole situation is precarious at best. Seemingly sensing your confusion, she moves on swiftly, “I haven’t even asked your name! It seems like I’ve forgotten my manners. I think we could become very good friends, but it’s a bit difficult to befriend the nameless, can I ask your name?”

“Oh well,” you look to Hansol, “this is—”

“I know him, of course. Captain Choi, right?” She says and looks at the man, “The Hwarang are famous enough in the city. But I’m asking who you are.”

You give her your name and blow slightly, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Her eyes grow wide, almost as if your name shocked her. She stares at you for a moment, “Heo? Your family name is Heo? Were you born near the coast?”

A slow nod, “I was. I lived in Toehwa-hyeon, but I had to come to Seorabeol for several reasons.”

She’s quiet for a moment, looking intently at you before she breaks into a smile. “I’m sorry,” a hand to wave off her prior concern, “it’s the same last name as an acquaintance of mine. It’s a lovely name.”

“You think so?”

“I do,” another smile before she introduces herself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You can call me Sooyoung, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Sooyoung,” judging by her attire, she’s probably the daughter of a high-ranking noble.

“Don’t be so formal!” She insists, “You look like you’re around my age, there’s no reason for us to not speak as equals.”

“So, just Sooyoung?” You question hesitantly.

“Just Sooyoung,” she smiles, “We have to meet again sometime, I feel like you’d be great company to keep.” Her hands out stretch to hold yours for a moment, giving them a gentle squeeze before she turns and leaves.

Your encounter was over before you had the chance to fully comprehend what had happened, so you stand partially stunned as you watch her walk off.

Hansol watches her disappear into the crowds as well before he turns to you, “She seemed to be interested in your last name.”

“She said it was the same as someone she knows…” You hum and look at him, “It’s not an uncommon last name.”

It seems like he’s concerned with her reaction, deep in thought as he nods his head. “We’re running late on our patrol schedule… We should get going.”

And so, the two of you continue on the patrol, basking in the pre-summer warmth that descends on the kingdom.

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 25𝔱𝔥, 663 – 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The heat intensifies as the month continues, dredging the compound in humidity only seen in the later summer months as the days go by. You’re sitting in the main hall with a small fan to cool yourself down with when you hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Excuse me, Heo?” You turn and see Lee Junghwan standing in the doorway with a tray of tea in his hands, “Is this batch good enough?”

“Hm,” you stand and walk to him, gingerly placing your fingers to the pot before recoiling away with a small wince from the heat, “It might be best to make tea lukewarm on days like this.”

Junghwan had joined the Hwarang just after Youngmin had returned from his expedition to Sabi, while there he invited the new member to join the organization. He’s now working as Youngmin’s page, and seemingly struggling with the transition from military life to that at the headquarters. The new member does seem fond of the Hwarang, very focused on honing his skills when he’s not running errands for the leader.

“Do you think we can water it down?” A voice questions as they round the corner and saddle up to Junghwan, a tray of tea in his hands as well.

“Ah, Dohoon, if you do that then you’ll lose the tea’s flavor,” you note, somewhat scarred by that suggestion.

“Really?” His eyes widen as he turns to his friend, “What do you think we’re supposed to do, Junghwan?”

“Maybe if we put the teapot in well water?” Junghwan suggests, humming out the question.

“That might work!” Dohoon nods enthusiastically, “Let’s do it!”

Kim Dohoon joined the Hwarang around the same time that Junghwan had, and because of their similar rank and age, they grew quite close to one another. Not to mention, Dohoon also became Youngmin’s page-in-training. Because of that, it was up to you to make sure the two became acquainted with the Hwarang and all of their pagely duties, a task more difficult than you previously imagined.

“The tea doesn’t need to be exactly room temperature,” you say quickly, “Just a bit cooler to balance it against the warm weather. So, instead of boiling water, just make it warmer and then brew it. Then it won’t affect the tea’s flavor.”

“Ohhh,” Dohoon muses, “You really do know a lot about this.”

“It’s very helpful,” Junghwan smiles at you appreciatively.

“As for the tea,” you look to the pots, “I’ll serve it to them so you two can—”

“What do you need?” Dohoon asks, saddling over to you, the cups and pot on his tray clinking together as he does so. “We’re up for it!”

“You’re going to do some sword training with me!” Junhui, who’d been sitting at the other end of the table, fiddling around with some trinket, exclaims as he rises to his feet. The two pages go quiet, knowing full well that Junhui’s training regime would probably leave them battered and bruised come tomorrow morning. “What?” The captain asks at their silence, “You don’t want to train?”

“Of course not!” Junghwan shakes his head, “I’d love to train.”

“Um…” Dohoon sighs out, “I still have a few errands to do…”

“Don’t get shy on me, new kid,” Junhui laughs at him.

“It’ll only help us become better warriors,” Junghwan mentions to Dohoon hurriedly.

“It’s not training, it's hazing,” Dohoon frowns and mutters quietly.

Junhui laughs again and puts his arms around the two, looking over at you with a wink, “I’ll take them off your hands for a bit.”

Junghwan smiles weakly as he sets down his tray, Dohoon looking as if he’s ready to cry as he sets down his own before Junhui throws his arms around the two and drags them off towards the training yard.

𝔐𝔞𝔶 13𝔱𝔥, 663 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Is it really true that Buyeo Pung returned from Yamato?” Your voice is quiet as you set down a cup of tea by the Hwarang’s leader. Youngmin had been sitting out in one of the temple’s gardens after briefing the captains on what news had just emerged from the former kingdom of Baekje when you found him. On his expedition a few months prior, the Crown had concluded that the rumors of the former prince’s return weren’t anything to be afraid of, yet now it seems as if the attitude has shifted and a causation for worry has arisen.

“It seems that way,” Youngmin nods and reaches for the cup, bringing it to his lips and taking a long drink from it. “His forces attacked Yongmyo Gate out west and a monk from the temple they’ve been holed up in has instated him as Baekje’s new king.” The leader looks tired as he sets the cup back down.

“Does that mean there’s going to be a war?” You ask quietly, wondering what this means for the rest of the kingdom. It doesn’t seem as if the news of Pung’s return is widespread yet, as the city still seems to be at peace.

“War? Hmm,” Youngmin hums, “I’m not sure. They’ve allied with Yamato, gotten Gwisil Boksin back as their general and are trying to claim territory quickly so we can’t stop them.” That seems scary enough just listening to their conquest, but Youngmin adds a bit more to ease you, “King Munmu has asked Emperor Gaozong for aid, supposedly they’re sending in Lui Jengui.”

You don’t know who that is, but with the assuredness in Youngmin’s tone, it makes you feel a bit better. “Will the Hwarang have to fight?”

“I’m not sure,” he shakes his head, “We could be delegated to keeping watch over Seorabeol or be put into the ranks depending on what’s needed.” His arms cross over his chest as he remains deep in thought.

You’re not sure what to say, on one hand, fighting for the kingdom is what the Hwarang are meant to do, but in doing so, there would be inevitable loss among his men. A heaving sigh escapes you before Youngmin speaks up once more.

“Doctor Namekawa is examining Seungkwan right now.” You look at him, wondering why he’d said that. The captain had seemingly been in a sickly state for a while now, had it gotten worse? “He hasn’t said anything but I hope it’s nothing serious,” a frown on the leader’s lips as he says that, “if something happened to him, I’m not sure I could face her…”

“Her?” You question, “He’s not married, is he?”

Youngmin chuckles lightly and shakes his head, “His sister. He left her in Gochang when he joined us.”

“I didn’t know that he has a sister,” you say, somewhat surprised at the revelation.

“He has two,” Youngmin nods, “Their parents passed before they moved here.”

“It sounds like Seungkwan has been through a lot…”

“He’s too honest to admit it, but yes, he has,” Youngmin agrees.

“You’d be the only man in Silla to call him honest, Kwak,” Jihoon laughs, having arrived in the garden at some point when you and Youngmin had been talking.

“Jihoon,” Youngmin smiles at him and motions him over, “Would you like some tea?”

“No thank you,” the commander shakes his head, his demeanor becoming more serious, “Have you heard about the notice board by the river?”

“The one that calls for the arrest of Baekje loyalists?” Youngmin asks before answering himself, “I have.”

“Some assholes tore it down and threw it into the water,” Jihoon relays, crossing his arms.

“I heard about that as well,” the leader nods, “Didn’t they fix it the next day?”

“Yes, but then it happened again,” Jihoon huffs, “I have a feeling we’re going to be asked to keep an eye on it sooner or later.”

“It was torn down at night, wasn’t it?” Youngmin muses, “What about using Seungcheol’s Fury Corps?” With the way Jihoon looks after Youngmin’s suggestion, it’s easy to see it doesn’t sit right with the commander.

“They work hard enough but they get… excited once the sun goes down.” Jihoon uncrosses his arms, “Whenever we give them something to do, they end up slaughtering instead of arresting. They desecrate the corpses until they’re unrecognizable. I don’t know if it’s to hide our involvement or what, but they’ve been going too far.” He shakes his head as if to rid himself of the thought, “Despite me telling them to stop, they won’t. If they keep it up then they’ll be no better than the average murderer.”

You still can recall the night you’d first encountered the Furies, their bloodlust and the utter lack of regard for human life.

“… I have other ideas of what we can do.” Jihoon says, looking towards Youngmin.

“I’ll leave it to you then,” the leader nods with a sigh. “Have you heard of the reforms that Cha Sohwan is trying to initiate with the crown?”

Before long, the two of them delve further into political jargon and names that you’d never heard of before, so you excuse yourself and walk back to the inner buildings. There’s much on your mind, but the Furies are and what they’re meant to do is what really confuses you.

𝔐𝔞𝔶 17𝔱𝔥, 663 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Jihoon seems to have been right about the notice board, a few days later the order arrived telling the Hwarang that they’re to guard the board and apprehend anyone who seeks to destroy it. Any captains and their division not on active patrol are to be positioned there to guard it. The first few days proved to be calm, with most of the men rolling in in the morning looking dead tired.

Junhui is a great example of this, you notice it when you walk into the great hall and he’s slumped over in his chair, his cheek pressed against the tabletop as he yawns. “Morning,” a lazy wave towards you, “I’m beat.”

“I’d have thought you were better at pulling all-nighters,” Mingyu mutters next to him, leaning back in his chair.

“Pulling all-nighters in Noseo-dong is different than standing guard for a goddamn sign,” Junhui groans, pushing himself off the tabletop. “It’s not like I want the posting to be vandalized, I just wish something would happen. You’re in charge of it tonight, aren’t you Mingyu?”

“Yeah,” the other nods, “And I will uphold my position with my sense of duty, honor and enthusiasm.” It’s obviously sarcasm that leeches from his voice, but you can’t fault him but so much, it does sound awfully boring.

“Good morning, Captain Kim, Doyoung,” You nod as the two brush past you and head further into the hall.

“Hello, you three,” Gongmyung greets with a tired sigh, “Did I interrupt something here?” As he speaks a few of his men filter into the room, taking up a rather large portion of the space.

“Are you up to something here?” Mingyu asks as he watches the men file in, “What’s with all your men?”

“Me?” Gongmyung looks at him and smiles, “I was planning on holding a debate with my men on the topic of the potential Baekje threat. Would you like to join us?”

“You’re such a jackass,” Doyoung says quietly and rolls his eyes at his brother. “I’m sure Mingyu’s read the Four Books and Five Classics but I doubt the other two even know what those are.”

“Don’t be impolite, Doyoung,” his brother scolds without any real scorn behind it. He looks to you and Junhui, “Excuse him, I’m not sure what’s been affecting my dear brother as of late. But as it looks as if the hall’s in use, I’ll just take my men elsewhere.” With that, Gongmyung beckons his followers to follow him out of the hall, heading for another building in the compound.

As soon as they were out of sight, a look of disgust came over Junhui, “Him and his groupies are just a bunch of pompous nobles.”

“Gathering his men and having secret meetings,” Mingyu frowns, “Who knows what they’re actually “debating”.” His head shakes with confusion, “I still don’t see why both Kwak and Soonyoung saw him as a valuable asset.”

Gongmyung isn’t just disliked by Junhui and Mingyu, more Hwarang than you can count had expressed distaste in him since he’d joined. There’s no way the captain hadn’t picked up on that by now, but he seems less than concerned of what everyone else thinks of him.

“Have any of you seen Captain Kim go by?” A new voice appearing in the doorway, it’s Suh Kangjoon, looking a little frazzled.

“He just left to go to another building,” you say quickly, “I think he’s going to have some kind of debate.”

A frustrated sigh, “I told him to tell me when he’d have his next meeting…” With that, Kangjoon storms off, probably going to find the captain.

“What was that about?” Junhui mutters as he watches Kangjoon stomp away.

“My guess is that he tried to join Gongmyung’s little posse but he’s not giving Kangjoon the time of day,” Mingyu shrugs. “It seems like he doesn’t really have a place for himself these days.” Another glance outside and Mingyu sighs, standing from his chair and stretching a bit, “I guess I should head out now.”

“Oh, actually—” You begin, and he turns to look at you. “Can I go with you?”

Mingyu seems to think on it for a moment before shaking his head, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Those Demons are still out there and these revivalists aren’t much better if we come across them.”

“I guess you’re right,” you frown, the sedentary nighttime at the compound is just bugging you, you suppose. “Be careful, I know things are getting more hectic these days.”

“Will do,” he nods before spinning on his heels and bounding out the door.

𝔒𝔠𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 30𝔱𝔥, 663 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 After the siege by Silla on Buyeo Pung’s fortress at Imjeon, the newly crowned Baekje king and his people fled further into their homeland, taking residence at the former capital of Sabi. Shortly after, Buyeo Pung has his lead general, Gwisil Boksin beheaded for fears of insurgency in the newly reformed kingdom, subsequently calling for aid from their allies in Yamato to try and suppress both Tang and Silla forces on the peninsula.

The tensions between Silla and the Baekje revivalists culminate in early October, when, on the fourth, Yamato forces arrive on the coastal front of Sabi. Intent on invading the capital in the name of their Baekje allies through navigating the Baekgang River, they soon found themselves interlocked in battle with the Tang army stationed nearby.

Emperor Gaozong merely requested supplies from Silla at first, until the next day they call for standing troops. This means that several Hwarang were sent to fight the front lines, among them, Kim Mingyu, Choi Hansol and Wen Junhui had taken their men to fight amongst the Baekje-Yamato forces. On the seventh, the Baekje-Yamato and Silla-Tang forces engage in battle once more, with the Yamato forces reeling with heavy casualties as the Silla warriors were able to break through their lines.

What comes to be known as the Battle of Baekgang ends on the thirteenth of October, 663. With little to no way of defeating the Silla forces on land or the Tang forces at sea, Buyeo Pung is forced to retreat. Neither the Silla nor Tang forces can capture him before he escapes into Goguryeo. Yet, the absence of a king quells the thoughts of a Baekje revival for some time after.

In lieu of waiting for the three captains return, you find yourself sweeping the entranceway of the temple’s grounds, the autumnal air setting into your bones as the minutes pass. There isn’t a great much you can do as you anticipate their arrival, merely picking up things out of place and making sure no one’s snuck around and gone through their things while they were gone.

“You’re certainly hard at work,” Youngmin notes as he’s come outside to see what you’ve been up to. “The captains should be returning any day now.”

“I know,” You smile, expectant on their return, “Everything’s been hectic these last few months.”

“You can say that again,” the leader sighs out. It’s been especially taxing to both him and Jihoon, who’d been called nearly every other day to the palace to discuss further plans on the fate of the remaining Baekje loyalists. “Oh,” Youngmin says as he spots a figure nearing him around a corner you can’t see behind, “Over here, Jihoon!”

The Hwarang’s commander comes into view seconds later, a tired edge to his voice, “There you are, I was wondering if you’d had enough and escaped yet.”

Youngmin laughs, “Almost to that point, I’m afraid. I’ve been looking for you too, it seems as if Lui Jengui’s been chosen to front the effort to extract Buyeo Pung from Goguryeo.”

“Him?” Jihoon nods slowly, “I guess it makes sense, he did just secure Sabi for Silla. The captains will have to tell us more about him once they get back.”

[paulisded]

The Ledge #638: The Hudson Basement Excavation Project

If you follow me on the various social media platforms (paulisded) you've probably seen a variety of pictures with the tagline "The Hudson Basement Excavaton Project". A little explanation is needed. Decades ago, my son needed a rack to store his records as he had followed in the old man's footsteps and put together his own sizable library. As I did not at that point even own a turntable, my records were all boxed up and stored in the basement.

A few years later, home renovatons meant that these boxes were joined by more boxes of CD's, books, magazines, and other junk that needed to be moved out of the way of new carpet and paint. The original boxes of records were now buried. When I returned to vinyl a decade ago, I had a feeling that somewhere there just had to be a bunch of albums. I mean, come on. I would never sell or give away Replacements records, right?

This feeling carried on whenever I saw a good stash of used records at local stores, or when a classic album was reissued. There just has to be records somehwere/anywhere! I would take tentative searches while doing laundry from time to time, but just a few weeks ago I hit the jackpot. I found some good ol' Taco Bell shredded lettuce boxes. You may laugh at that, but those were the perfect boxes to store records. And sure enough, as I moved other boxes around, and squeezed in between other barriers (old lawn furniture, etc.) it was indeed what I've been looking for. One great box of vinyl, with another couple right next to it. A few weeks later there was another discovery!

So tonight's show is all about some of the gems discovered during this process. Some are quite rare. Others could be pretty easily found in most good used stores. But it' sover two hours of fantastic old faves from the 70s, 80s, and even a couple from the 90s!

 CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE SHOW! 

1. Spot 1019 - Surf Machine

2. Suicide Twins - Dance

3. Zeitgeist - Araby

4. Danny & Dusty - The Word Is Out

5. The dB's - Love Is For Lovers

6. The Jayhawks - Two Angels

7. The Jayhawks - Sioux City

8. E-I-E-I-O - This Time

9. Big Dipper - She's Fetching

10. Camper Van Beethoven - (We're A) Bad Trip

11. Camper Van Beethoven - I'm Not Like Everybody Else

12. The Vipers - Cheated And Lied

13. The Magnolias - Asking The Time

14. The Leaving Trains - Temporal Slut

15. Patti Smith - Ask The Angels

16. Blondie - Rip Her to Shreds

17. The Pretenders - The Adultress 

18. Siouxsie & The Banshees - Dear Prudence

19. The Victims - Television Addict

20. The Victims - Open Your Eyes

21. Beasts Of Bourbon - Evil Ruby

22. Robyn Hitchcock And The Egyptians - Brenda's Iron Sledge

23. Chris Spedding - Wild In The Streets

24. Chris Spedding - Guitar Jamboree

25. The Clash - Pressure Drop

26. The Drones - Persecution Complex

27. Primal Scream - Velocity Girl

28. The Mighty Lemon Drops - Happy Head

29. The Pastels - Breaking Lines

30. Close Lobsters - Firestation Towers

31. The Replacements - Nowhere Is My Home

32. The Replacements - Left Here In The Dark

33. The Replacements - Last Train To Clarksville (I'm In Trouble)

34. The Replacements - Another Girl, Another Planet

35. Ian Dury - Blockheads