#My heart cannot be more clenched and squeezed and yet huge

[imperial-daffodil]

One last for the night - how the Emperor's gaze always follows Tav has my chest hurt.

There is pride here. And fondness. And in that moment, I imagine, after all that has come to pass, anxiety.

Will they stay?

And then, the question. Of course, hidden as an offer to continue their partnership. Because, how else?

And look, his eyes, while asking, and after Tav answers positively. The Emperor is smiling.

Bonus, the cutest Illithid shoes award goes to Tav:

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 26

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 26: So it begins

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I was trapped in a chair. Something was clamped around my head and kept it firmly tied to the back of the chair. My arms and legs were completely immobile, not a centimeter of space left. I could feel Alastor's panic. I let out a scream as I pulled hard against the chair, completely helpless.

Burning pain ran along the sides of my head. I screamed louder, harder, and fought tooth and nail for my magic just barely out of reach.

Next thing I know I'm running through the forest. I was in my Dragon form, my large claws clearly in view as I jumped across streams and weaved through the trees. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

I came to a clearing and stopped. Standing across was a man in all white. He spread his huge bird-like wings and pointed a finger at me. A moment later I was on my side, shaking from pain, as he stood over me with clenched fists.

He lifted one fist and brought it down on my face.

My head jerked back and I gasped. Alastor flinched awake, eyes snapping open and scanning the room for danger. My own eyes remained locked on him as wide as they could go. I couldn't take a deep breath.

"Another nightmare my dear?" he asked sweetly, hand coming up to cup my face. I couldn't move. He noticed and pushed his mind further into mine than usual. He lowered my heart rate and loosened my shoulders. He moved down my body until the tip of my tail was no longer tense.

"A vision," I breathed. "Something was wrong. I was trapped and something was happening to you."

"I won't let anything happen to either of us, my darling." That was what he always said after my nightmares.

"But what if something does happen?" I pressed.

"Darling," his tone was firm, "we don't know when these events will occur or if they can even be considered visions. You have yet to discern between a vision and dream. This could be your fear creating nightmares."

I let out a short, terse sigh and sat up. I couldn't see but I knew he was rolling his eyes and sitting up as I slipped out of bed.

"Darling--"

"I don't appreciate you discounting me like that. Six surface Overlords are gone, Blackwater is creating an empire through word of mouth, and we barely survived getting away from him last time. How are you not concerned?" I faced him with my arms extended in exaggeration.

"Last time he lured us into a trap." He stood up and ran a hand through his messy hair. If I wasn't so upset I might've considered it attractive. "He is nothing against me in a full scale battle. He cannot harm you or this Haven while I am here." He crossed the room to place a gentle hand on my cheek. My tail came around to wrap on his ankle. "Let me worry about this, darling."

I was quiet. There were a lot of things I wanted to say to him. I wasn't some useless weak mage, not anymore. My magic was getting better with every day and I was doing a lot in the Haven to get it more fortified and help with morale. And why wasn't he showing even just the slightest bit of concern? He could've died last time we ran into Blackwater. He was building an army as we spoke. Alastor was good but even he could be overrun if there were enough of them, especially if they had Overlord magic.

Alastor brought his other hand up to hold my face in both hands. He tried to catch my eyes but I forced my head down. He moved his hands to my shoulders and gently squeezed them, trying in every way to get me to look at him without forcing it. I kept our minds separate but allowed him to press along my shields like he usually did.

He succumbed to hugging me instead. I pressed my cheek into his chest while his arms folded over my shoulders and behind my head. I took a long, slow deep breath of his cedar wood scent. I had the urge to cry. I knew it wasn't from just this one nightmare. I've been having them steadily now and each time he told me they were nightmares, nothing more. He could help sooth the nightmares but that didn't prevent the effect it had on me during the day. It was getting overwhelming.

I rubbed my face on his soft black long sleeve. He brought a hand up to my head and ran his claws lightly along my scalp. I let out a hum of satisfaction, the muscles in my arms loosening around his waist. He pushed further on my shields and I finally let him in, melting our minds together. I felt warmth seeping through my body and relaxing all the tight muscles. I was surprised to see how much of an effect my physique had on my mentality.

How did he always manage to relax me like this?

"I will take extra precautions, my love," he finally said, chest vibrating as he spoke. My arms wrapped tighter around him and I smiled.

"Thank you."

"Can I have a kiss now?"

I tilted my head back to look at him, finally meeting his gaze. "Is that all you were looking for?"

One of his ears fell to the side. "It wasn't an attempt to manipulate you."

I laughed, bringing my hands up to his face and pulling him down for a brief kiss. "I know, Al. Thank you for listening." My ears picked up on a certain sound. My tail moved up his leg and the sound grew faster. I noticed his smile wobble a little but before I could make a comment he kissed me again. My tail continued up until it found his own tail. It had been wagging. I laughed into the kiss and tried to pull away but he refused, hands holding my face firmly against his so I couldn't say anything.

I tried moving my body to pull away and one of his hands came down to wrap behind my back. He pulled me flush against his body as his other hand moved to the back of my head, lips parting mine and long tongue slipping through. I made a surprised noise and gripped his shirt in my fists. He hummed into the kiss, making me moan.

I pulled away finally, shocked at my own actions, and quickly looked at anything other than him. His chuckle was deep in his chest. He planted a kiss on my cheek then on the side of my forehead.

****

"What do you mean he's missing?" I asked Althea, struggling to find a way to put our healer at ease. Vivian and Vilcin were also trying to talk to her but she was pacing like we'd never seen her do before. Vilcin was visibly upset at their friend's behavior, concerned owl noises bubbling in their throat. Vivian was the better of us three, trying to make conversation and pull out information from anything and everything.

"He's gone. My brother he's...he's just gone. No note, no word, no nothing." She grabbed random things off her shelves and pretended to busy herself. "The guards haven't seen him all day, either. Where could he have gone? He doesn't just disappear."

Althea had been reunited with her brother only recently. Husker had lead a group to save more fighters from the rings and it took mere seconds for Althea to find her brother as she surveyed them all for injuries. He joined the guards as most of the fighters did and any time he wasn't on duty he was in his sister's hut. To be honest, I was often jealous of their close relationship. Even after years of being separated, they came back like no time had passed.

A funny feeling settled in my chest and not a good one. Part of me worried if it was a trap of some kind but it wasn't as if I couldn't not help my friend. I was always the one who went out and searched for angry runaways with worried friends and families.

Althea was so upset. She wasn't thinking in her usual calm way. I had to do something to help her, even if that meant pushing past my own nerves. She was my friend, after all. One of my first friends in the haven.

I reached with my magic to see if Alastor was up at the house. I wanted to let him know that I was going out but he wasn't anywhere on the premise. That made me even more worried, however, that did mean I didn't have to argue with him over leaving the grounds. He would probably argue against it.

"Let me try finding him. I'm good with things like this," I said. Althea finally stopped moving. She turned to look at me as did the others. I waited a moment longer before turning and leaving the healer's hut. They all knew, especially Althea herself, about my worries of Blackwater. I had confided in them about my nightmares since Alastor wasn't the greatest when it came to the aftermath of those.

"Wait!" Althea called, "Let me go with you."

"Huh? Why?" I came to a stop as she ran up.

"At least you'll have someone with you out there. And I want to make sure he's okay when you do find him."

"I'm not sure, Althea," I admitted, "It's easier for me to move by myself as a Dragon. And we need to make sure our one and only healer is safe."

"You also need to be safe," she argued, "If anything happens to you, happens to Alastor, we're nothing against Blackwater."

"You have Charlie. She's pretty powerful. Plus her father is the King of Hell. He'll come to her aid."

"I'm not sure from the things she's told me." She glanced around to ensure no one was listening.

"Maybe we're reading too much into this," I tried, "your brother might have just gotten separated and lost. I'll be careful. I'm also powerful, you know." I turned away and started for the border before she could say anything else. The guards at the edge watched me but said nothing as I passed and morphed into my dragon form, quickly slipping into the forest.

I moved along the tree line until I caught wind of his scent. It was faint, obviously from the night before, and followed it further into the forest. I could smell others which told me he had been with a group. I felt my adrenaline surging through my veins. I missed moving through the forest like this, thinking of the scent and only that, and my claws kicking up dirt behind me. Even the wind slipping under my wings felt great. I felt free.

His scent grew stronger around certain areas. He must've stopped with the group a few times. Then at one point his scent diverted from the group. My nerves went up and reached out with my magic. Everything was on high alert now.

It took only a few strides before I realized something was up. I felt a presence nearby. It wasn't Alastor's and it wasn't Blackwater's. It didn't even feel normal; didn't feel natural. This had to be Blackwater's work. This was a trap. But I couldn't turn back. Not now. I had to save Althea's brother. I couldn't wait for Alastor either. Blackwater might be trying to extract magic from her brother this very moment.

I came to a clearing and dug my heels into the dirt. Standing on the other end was a man in white. He noticed my presence almost immediately, spinning around and extending huge golden wings.

My vision. It's happening!

His face was all black with sharp yellow eyes and teeth. He had black claws and horns. What kind of Demon was this?

"Well well well, nice to finally meet the bastard he spawned," the man said.

"Who are you?" I demanded as I shifted into my Demon form.

"The name's Adam. Like Adam the first man."

"First man?"

"Ch-yeah. I'm the Adam. From the Bible." He planted his fists on his wide hips.

"The Bible?" I deadpanned.

His toothy smile disappeared. "Do you seriously not know what the Bible is?"

I shook my head. "No. I've never heard of it."

"How? It's literally the most popular and controversial book in the whole fucking world."

"So what are you?" I asked.

"I can't fucking believe this." He crossed his arms. "I'm a fucking angel."

He talks weird.

"You look like a Demon, though." I knew Angels existed, being half of one myself, but I had never actually seen one. I thought they might not have a way to cross onto the surface like Demons did.

"Angels don't have a demonic look so I took that into my own hands. But here, let me demonstrate so you actually believe me." He pointed a single finger and a gold beam shot out. I barely moved off the line of trajectory and was thrown backwards into a tree. Stabbing pain throbbed in my shoulder, the smell of burning flesh reaching my nose almost immediately.

I looked down at my shoulder to see a large, steaming hole straight through it. The burning spread from the wound and went down my arm and seeped into my chest. Panicked, I immediately healed the wound and stopped whatever it was from reaching my heart.

My eyes looked up at him through my hair.

Game time.

There was no going back.

I moved to all fours as he spread his wings out. I waited, wanting him to make the first move. And he did. He flew at me at insane speed, barely giving me enough time to roll out of the way. His wings weren't obeying the laws of gravity.

I went into the woods and kept him at a distance with the dense trees. Where was Althea's brother? Where was he keeping him?

I came around a tree and uprooted it as he flew by. He slammed into the roots and crashed into the next one. I jumped on him and pinned his wrists to the ground, claws covering his to prevent him from using his death ray. I used my wings to pin his to the ground as well with surprising ease. I felt bigger. I felt deadly. I felt powerful. What other magic could this Angel do? Surely I was superior because I had both types of magic.

"What a position you've put me in," Adam smirked, "does your soulmate know you do this to other men?"

"Where is the boy?" I demanded, ignoring his remark.

"Like I would fucking tell you." His laugh was cut short when I sank my teeth into his shoulder. The taste was sweet on my tongue but my adrenaline was overpowering the urge. It actually made me uncomfortable to taste anyone else's blood other than Alastor's. "You little bitch!" he yelled as I lifted my head. "Is that how we're playing?"

He twisted my wrist funny and his yellow beam shot through my hand and hit my nose. I fell back and rolled away, clutching my face. He kept shooting at me as I fled among the trees. I uprooted the ground beneath him just to get him to stop.

I casted wind through the trees and sent him tumbling head over heels. I covered my bleeding face and healed the injury on my nose. My shoulder still ached from the first time he hit me. Maybe he didn't have the magic I had as a Demon but that beam of his was incredibly deadly. He could kill me if it hit my head.

I shuddered as Alastor looked through my eyes. I suddenly lost sight of Adam and panicked. I picked a direction and ran, weaving in and out of the trees. Where had he gone? I had blinked and he was gone. That wasn't possible, surely.

Something hard hit my face. It snapped my head to the side and I fell hard on my injured shoulder. I rolled once and slammed my face into a tree. I attempted the 'force field' Alastor had been teaching me. It was short high wings really close to my body to keep anything from reaching me. Though it probably couldn't do anything against his death ray.

A hand gripped my hair and slammed my face into the ground. Adam stepped on my wings and brute forced me onto my back, effectively popping my wing out of its socket. I cried out as he straddled me and closed his hand around my throat.

I felt Alastor reaching for me through our bond but something else, something bright, stopped him. I felt my soul being torn from my body. The pain wasn't physical but no words could describe such a horrible feeling. My mouth opened in a silent scream as it felt like stitches were being popped out the further my soul came from my body.

I shot my magic through my own soul and into Adam's. I pictured grabbed his throat with my own black claws. He suddenly let go and my soul snapped back into my body. My connection with Alastor wobbled.

"I'm done playing these games," he growled, standing up but not removing his feet from either side of my injured form. I was shaking uncontrollably. "You, half bastard, will get what you deserve soon enough."

He finally stepped off my wings and I rolled onto my side. He knelt beside me and grabbed my shoulders. A moment later everything felt as light as a feather.

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Author's Note:

What's gonna happen? Who knows? All I know is that this is the 51st PART! That's so many! And you've been with me since the beginning <3

Next part will come Wednesday morning at the latest.

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Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette

[dp-marvel94]

I am you (and you are me)

For Invisobang 2021. Art by @bibliophilea

On AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Summary: Set post Kindred Spirits. Something has been different since Danny came back from Vlad's and it started when the older half ghost had the tiny clone overshadow him. The half ghost remembers: His own screams. A pain in his inmost being, in his core. A tug back and forth. Being squeezed. A crash, a collision. And then... the blackness of death.

Danny comes back from the experience changed, with the memories of two lives stuffed in his head and new powers. The fire powers are pretty cool but shrinking, often involuntarily, makes him feel weak and vulnerable. All of it, the powers and memories, terrify him as he learns what they mean. And the thought of telling his loved ones...How can the half ghost hope that Jazz, Sam, and Tucker will understand and accept him now when he himself cannot?

Warnings and Tags: Self harm, Identity confusion, Self-Hatred, Ectoplasm and melting clones related gore, Clone Angst, Nightmares, Memory Issues, Involuntary Shrinking. Panic Attacks, Frostbite is Danny’s Icedad.  Evil Vlad Masters, Bad Parent Vlad Masters, Split Danny, Ghost Catcher, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual acceptance (by Danny and by his loved ones). Sibling Bonding, Friendship, Danny finally gets a hug.

Note: Welcome to my Invisobang fic! This is a semi-sequel to my story "Nothing and Everything." It's set directly after that story, though assuming an alternative ending. It is not necessary to read the older story to understand this one. All you need to know is, it deals with the aftermath of Danny being overshadowed by one of the clone's in Kindred Spirits and the emotional impact of the experience.

All that being said, big thanks to my amazing artist @bibliophilea for the amazing comic, and for beta reading! Thanks to @welcome-tothe-mystery-shack  for your comments and feedback on this story. And finally, a huge thanks to my dearest sister @nervousdragonrebelpie for looking over chapters and listening to me ramble about this story for the past few months. I wouldn’t have been able to finish this without you.

Preview Below:

Chapter 1:

“No! I’m a person. People have names! I have to have a name. I’m not….” A sob tried to break free from his throat.

A knock suddenly rattled the door. “Danny!” Mom called.

Both boy’s heads popped up, focusing on the door. They turned to face each other. “Don’t do this.” The real Danny begged.

“What?” The being asked.

“Every time you get close to the truth, you dream up a distraction.” His eyes widened in desperate panic. “Please don’t-”

Danny’s eyes popped open, a dream swirling in his mind. His heart raced, the sheets sticking to his sweaty body. His brow wrinkled, one shaking hand moving up to rub his aching head. Aching…. He still had that damn headache.

The boy closed his eyes, trying to push the pain away, to coax his heart rate down. He breathed. In and out. In and out. Slowly, so slowly, the throb in his head dimmed, his heart calming. But still, anxiety ate up his insides. 

Blearily, the boy opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. Dissatisfied, he groaned and rolled onto his side. He clenched and unclenched his fists, balling up the fabric on his bed. His bed. Yes, this was his bed…. Sleeping in a bed was so nice and comfortable but at the same time... something about it felt…. off.

The boy pinched his eyes closed, trying to make sense of the feeling. His stomach flopped. Something was off. Something was different. After today, after he’d come back from Vlad’s, after the man kidnapped him, after the man clo-

Danny cut off the cursed word, his mind refusing. He buried his face in his pillow. Vlad’s. Something had happened, something had.. had changed at Vlad’s but he couldn’t... quite... remember.

It flashed in images. Being locked in a pod. Electrocution. His own screams. Pain. A pain in his inmost being, in his core…. On the bed, Danny’s core throbbed at the thought… A tug back and forth. Then being squeezed. A crash, a collision. And then... blackness.

He’d passed out. Danny knew that much. And he’d woken up at some point later but everything between that and when he had arrived home was a blur.

Confusion. His head swimming. Danielle.. sister… frowning in worry. The hiss of the pod being released. A sigh of relief. An ectoblast. Twisted metal and glass. Ectoplasm. Ectoplasm on his hands, on the floor. Oh god, oh god. He hadn’t meant to do that. He wasn’t... the others weren’t supposed to…. weren't supposed to...

Vlad... Master... Vlad... glaring in pure hatred. “Get behind me.” His ears ringing with a scream. The older halfa being knocked into his shelves. His knees wobbling. He fell and turned human. (Human... why did the fact that he could do that make him so happy?) But then horror. Vlad was still up and moving.

Then Sam and Tucker crashed through, hitting the older man. Locking Vlad (Master) in a pod. He needs... he needs to find Danielle. He needs to find his baby sister. But she’s gone. She’s gone.

His friends’ worried faces. “Danny, you’re not making any sense.” “Hey! Hey! Stay with us!” He wobbled…. where was Danielle?..... falling forward….. Sam and Tucker caught him.

At some point later, he’d woken up on his bed with worried friends and sister who he couldn’t adequately comfort. His head had been pounding and he couldn’t remember what happened to him… and what he did remember made little sense. Sam had checked his eyes; he didn’t have a concussion or any other injuries. With his head throbbing, he’d dismissed the confusion as being from the stress of the kidnapping and electrocution. His friends believed him, though anxiety was plain on their faces. But after a few minutes, his friends had said their goodbyes, leaving him to get some much needed sleep.

But now, the night after, Danny laid on his bed. His headache was gone, his mind clearer. He should feel better yet... his heart was sinking like a stone in his chest. That dream. That dream. That was familiar. So familiar. Like it had really happened. Like... it meant something. And yet…. Danny yawned, sudden tiredness overtaking him. He closed his eyes.

Maybe this was the ramblings of a sleep deprived brain. Yeah, maybe he was just tired. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning and everything would be okay. The boy pulled his covers more tightly around himself and fell asleep.

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

The next morning, after quickly getting ready for school and rushing off, found Danny at his locker. The boy frowned, wracking his brain. What was his locker combination again? He spun the lock, landing on 25. That was the first number, right? Then….56. And finally….12? The lock clicked and he pulled the door open.

Danny sighed. Why was that so hard to remember? He’d had to open his locker just yesterday. He should remember… but why did that feel like a lifetime ago?

“Hey! Danny!” Tucker’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Danny gasped in surprise. In his chest, his core swelled and his body reflexively flickered invisible. A second later, he reappeared, rubbing his chest.

The next thing he knew, Sam was at his side. “What was that?”

“Yeah.” His technogeek friend took a step forward, voice quieting. “Your powers haven’t slipped up like that in months.”

Danny frowned, shaking his head. “I guess... I guess I’m still kinda shook up after….” He wrapped his arms around himself.

Sam’s face softened, seeming to understand. “Do you feel any better?” She asked kindly.

The halfa’s brow wrinkled. “Well, my headache’s gone.”

“You do look better.” The goth commented, her brow furrowing with worry. “You looked rough last night.”

“Yeah, you were really out of it too.” Tucker frowned. “You kept asking where someone called Danielle was? And for your sister?” Clear confusion rang out in his voice and just a hint of teasing…. “We kept telling you Jazz was at home, covering for us.” as if the idea that he was worried about his older sister, when she wasn’t even involved, was funny.

But something in the recollection made Danny shiver. He remembered worrying about Danielle. But…. sister... he hadn’t been talking about Jazz. He’d been asking about another girl, with blue eyes and-

“Then you passed out.” Sam continued. “And we took you home.”

For a too long moment, his friends looked at him questioningly. Finally, Danny bit his lip. “I think I remember that.”

The confirmation seemed to encourage his friends. “That’s good.” Said Tucker.

Danny wasn’t sure it was. But he had no more time to think on it before the bell rang and they were walking to their first class.

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

During lunch period, Danny sat down at their familiar table, the same one as yesterday and every day since the start of freshman year. He placed down his tray and looked over the tables, waiting for Sam and Tucker to join him.

The boy’s brow furrowed. The cafeteria looked the same as every day. The same as yesterday when…. Danielle phasing through the table, a tiny green speck racing passed him…. At the lunch table, Danny’s core pulsed anxiously. Yes, that had happened but at the same time…. Looking back at the two chasing him. Laughing without sound at their fun game.

Danny shivered, feeling cold. He rubbed his chest, nervously.

“Danny?” Someone was waving a hand in front of his face. “Danny? You with us man?”

The halfa blinked and turned, meeting Tucker’s eyes. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“What’s with the spaciness?” Sam said bluntly. She stabbed at her salad. “You were like that all during English too.”

“Was I?” The boy questioned. He shook his head. “Sorry. Just... thinking about stuff.”

His friends gave him worried looks but didn’t question him. Frankly, it was to Danny’s relief. He couldn’t seem to put his thoughts in order. He couldn’t explain this... weird feeling. 

The friends chatted for most of the lunch period, Sam and Tucker dominating the conversation with a debate about the newest Doomed update.

All the while Danny idly rubbed at his chest with one hand. He picked at his cheese fries. Normally they were pretty good, but he wasn’t feeling it today. He shivered again, flinching as his fork fell through his intangible hand.

“Again?” Tucker questioned with a raised brow.

Danny didn’t respond, instead picking up his fork only for his core to flare and the utensil to fall through his fingers again. With an annoyed grumble, the boy rubbed his chest again.

“Do you think something’s up with your powers?” Sam quietly asked.

The halfa looked up, frowning. “No... I mean…”

The goth pointed. “Danny, you keep rubbing your chest.”

Danny looked down, brow furrowing. Below his palm, his core pulsed. There was something… strange about the rhythm and…. he adjusted the position, pressing just the smallest bit harder. Normally, it fit comfortably under his palm but now... “It’s... bigger?” He muttered.

“What?” Tucker asked.

Danny lowered his hand. “My core?” He shook his head. “No... I’m imagining it.” His core pulsed unhappily, even as he rubbed his forehead. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

Sam and Tucker again looked like they wanted to argue, but the bell rang and they split up, each hurrying to their next class.

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

The rest of the school day was surprisingly normal. Just his typical classes, without even a ghost fight to interrupt his day. Danny should have felt relieved for such a chill day after what happened last night but yet…. The boy tapped his pencil on his desk. He felt anxious. He must still be shook up, like he told his friends this morning. 

Danny bit his lip, shaking the writing instrument in his hand again. It went flying out of his grip and clattered onto the floor. The boy huffed as he bent down to grab it. His hand hadn’t even turned intangible this time.

With that, the boy straightened in his seat. He glanced at the clock. 20 more minutes left in class. Just 20 minutes. Then he could go home and take a nap. He rubbed his eyes. He was still tired after getting back so late. Maybe some sleep would help him feel better.

Soon enough, the bell rang. Danny stood and walked to his locker. This time, he remembered the combination without wracking his brain. He pulled out his books and turned to his friends, who were collecting their own belongings.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Danny said.

“Yeah, see you later.” Tucker replied.

“Call us if something comes up with the ghosts.” Sam frowned. “I’m grounded but…. I’ll sneak out if you need me.”

The technogeek groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m grounded too.”

The halfa looked down guiltily. “Sorry.” He bit his lip. “You guys shouldn’t be grounded because you had to save my sorry butt.”

“It’s fine.” Sam comforted. “We weren’t not going to save you. We’re your friends.”

“Yeah.” Tucker agreed. “It’s just the price to pay for being superheroes.”

Danny half-smiled, though he didn’t much feel like it. He wasn’t much of a hero. Guilt still choked his heart. He hated getting his friends in trouble. But still…. “Thanks for having my back.”

“No problem.” Tucker confirmed.

Then down the hall, someone called his name. “Danny?”

The boy turned. It was his sister, Jazz. He frowned. Oh right, he hadn’t talked to her since he’d been half out of it last night.

The girl quickly approached. “There you are. Come on. I’m driving you home.”

Jazz didn’t give him a choice as she started leading him towards the entrance. Danny waved at his friends, watching their worried faces until he turned the corner. 

Less than two minutes later, the pair were seated in Jazz’s car. The girl didn’t start the vehicle, instead turning to face her brother. “Are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?”

“I... Uh…” Danny stuttered, trying to collect his thoughts.

“You disappeared during the middle of school. Sam and Tucker said some weird ghost girl showed up. You went off to fight some ghost and the next thing they knew, Vlad was carrying you away.”

The boy crossed his arms. “It sounds like you already know what happened.” He muttered.

Jazz pinned a serious look. “I know Vlad kidnapped you but…. what did he do to you?”

Danny paled. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Something happened. You were unconscious when Sam and Tucker got back. And you were super out of it when you woke up. But you weren’t physically hurt. What did Vlad do to you?” His sister pushed.

Danny swallowed, his stomach flopping. “I... I don’t…. It’s fuzzy….” 

Jazz rose a brow, her tone suggesting she knew there was more to it. “Danny.”

The boy flinched. “I... he... Vlad electrocuted me?” He remembered. Being locked in a pod, electricity running through him. The creepy hologram of his mom. But... but... there was more.

His sister paled. “Oh... I’m so sorry.” Her voice softened and she didn’t say anything for a while, then… “Do you know why he did that?”

Danny stiffened, looking up. The reason sparked in his mind, with the image. Vlad hissing in front of him, boasting his plan. The man had explained but…. the words stayed just out of reach. Danny's face set in a pointed frown. He shook his head.

Jazz’s own frown deepened. “That little girl…. Sam and Tucker said she looked just like you in ghost form. What does she have to do with all this?”

The boy avoided her eyes, heart fluttering nervously. The little girl.... her face snapped into focus in his mind. Danielle, that was her name. But... there was another word. Started with an S or…. a C. She was like him; she was a clo-

Danny shook his head. No, that wasn’t right. Well…. part of it was right. Danielle had been there. She’d been helping Vlad. She helped the man hurt him; painful betrayal stabbed at him from the thought. But at the same time…

“She helped me. She helped me fight Vlad.” The half ghost said quietly, awed realization sparking as he remembered.

“But… who was she?” Jazz asked, equally quietly.

Just like that, the boy paled again. The word, the cursed word, formed in his mind without his permission. Clone. She was a clone of…. him?... No... that didn’t sound right... he was the same as her but... it had to be true. His frown deepened.

“Who was she?” His older sister asked again.

The boy shivered. “I... I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Danny.” Her voice softened. “You can tell me. It’s-”

“I... I can’t... I don’t wanna talk about it.” He focused on his hands in his lap, trying to keep them from shaking.

“Clearly, whatever happened is bothering you. You can tell me.”

“No. I-” Danny bit his lip, reaching for the door. He couldn’t stay in here with her, couldn’t deal with the questions he had no answers for or rather... questions he couldn’t bear to answer. The… the c word... he couldn’t say it, could barely think it. How could he explain how everything felt wrong, like he wasn’t actually-

“Wait.” Jazz cut off his thoughts. “You don’t have to talk until you’re ready. Just... let me drive you home.”

The boy lowered his hand and slumped back in his seat. “You... you promise? You won’t press?”

His sister’s brow furrowed. Her face was tight, like she didn’t want to agree; but after a long moment, she sighed. “Alright. I promise.”

Danny nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Jazz turned the car on, put it into drive, and pulled out of the parking lot. They drove home in silence. Once they arrived, the boy went straight up to his room. He rubbed his head, flopping down onto his bed. He needed... he needed a nap. Yeah…. That was it. He was still tired.

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

Sister smiled down at him. “Look at this!” The black haired girl held up her crayon drawing. “This is me.” She pointed. “And Muscles. And Bones. And Daniel.” Her smile widened as she tapped at the last figure. “And this is you.”

The being tilted his head. He floated up, placing small hands on the green figure on the paper. He blinked owlishly up at the girl.

The corner of the girl's mouth turned down. She placed down the paper and offered him a crayon. “Come on. You try.”

The tiny being hovered forward, reaching out to touch the crayon. It was so big, almost half as tall as he was. He frowned, trying to understand.

“Make yourself a little bigger and you’ll be able to hold it.” She encouraged. “Come on. You can do it.”

The being scrunched his brow and he stretched. He was about the size of a toddler, maybe two and a half feet tall. He reached out, grabbing the crayon with his slightly larger hands.

“Great.” Sister said. She pushed a fresh piece of paper in front of him. “Now you draw. Like this.” She demonstrated, rubbing the crayon against the paper so color transferred onto it.

The being flopped down, sitting on the floor. Slowly, so slowly, he copied the girl. He traced his drawing instrument over the paper. He scribbled, creating a mess of lines and shapes without meaning or purpose.

Sister smiled proudly anyway. “You’re doing it. Good job, Tiny.”

He beamed, something in him sparking at the praise. He continued scribbling but the image changed into something more purposeful. A house took shape, stick figures. A large man and slimmer woman. A little girl and a little boy.

The little boy giggled at his drawing. His hands were chubbier than before. A toddler’s, instead of the miniaturized version of a teen’s. 

“Jazzy!” He looked up, showing off his drawing to the little redhead girl.

His older sister looked up. “That looks great, Danny!” She put her own crayons down, rubbing her sweaty forehead. “It’s so hot.”

The boy suddenly dropped his crayons and drawing. “Outside! Let’s go outside!”

“But it’s hot.” The girl repeated.

The boy was already running off. “Mommy! Mommy! Can we play in the sprinklers?! Please! Please!”

Mommy turned around from where she was making lunch. “After we eat, okay?”

“Okay!” The four year old beamed, already running up the stairs to get his swim trunks.

The next thing he knew, he was outside. Mommy set up the sprinkler. He and Jazzy ran around it, giggling. Daddy came outside with water balloons and Danny let out a happy scream. “Water balloons!”

The little boy grabbed one and threw it at his sister.

Danny blinked awake to bright light on his face. His nose wrinkled. It was still light out? Oh wait, he had been taking a nap. He sat up, yawning and rubbing his forehead. He’d been dreaming again, this time about…. He shivered, remembering. He’d been playing in the back yard with Jazz when he was four. And... he’d been with Danielle. She’d been showing him how to draw. 

The boy’s stomach flopped. That didn’t make sense. That hadn’t happened. Maybe... maybe he was thinking about her because Jazz had asked, earlier, when they’d been in the car but... that had felt like a memory.

Dread balled in his gut. He’d been small, smaller than her hand. And then he’d stretched and he was bigger, about the size of a toddler. Danny looked down at his hands, his human, properly sized hands. That, changing his size, wasn’t something he could do but…. In the dream, Danielle had called him Tiny. It didn’t make sense and yet….

He remembered. One of the other clones. The small green one. Danny shivered. That one, that one could shrink. That clone had overshadowed him.

The knowledge hit Danny like a ton of bricks. The tiny clone had overshadowed him. How... how didn’t he remember that until just now? How hadn’t he realized? Danny grimaced, a sickening feeling squeezing his insides. He’d been possessed. Someone else had been in his body, controlling his actions, messing with his mind. The boy wrapped his arms around himself. He felt violated at the thought. That was so wrong. Vlad had ordered one of his clones to overshadow him. And…. more memories of the experience pressed into his mind.

Danny had been semi-aware of the other presence. There had been a fight for control, another core so close to his and…. Memories, thoughts that weren’t his. Flashes of the tiny clone’s memories. And the feeling of tiny hands rifling through his own mind.

Danny pulled his knees to his chest. That must be why he’s felt so off. It was the aftereffects of being possessed. And that dream, the flashes of memory…. he must be remembering what he’d seen and felt from the tiny clone while it had been possessing him.

The boy sighed. But... the feeling would go away eventually, right? It would. He’d felt off after Sidney had overshadowed him as well. It had taken a bit to get used to being in his own body again. And Sidney was more experienced with overshadowing than his clone had been. The ghostly nerd knew how to push Danny’s spirit out of his body, instead of forcing both ghosts to cohabitate. That was why there were strange memories now, unlike last time.

But it didn’t matter. He’d get back to normal soon enough and his friends and sister would have nothing to worry about. Everything would be okay, right?

Danny stood up, rolling his shoulders to stretch. He had homework to do. He sat down at his desk, trying to ignore the way his stomach still flopped.

[nagito-kissmaeda]

We have another marvelous piece by our anonymous smut writer! It's very very good stuff. I cannot tear my thoughts away from Nagito in a bunny outfit and just, huge heels. So......tall......yum.....and you've written him in a way that makes him seem almost, elegant....so wonderful to read and the smut was GREAT, there's an...intimacy to it even though they are just two strangers aha. Awesome awesome work! Thank you for sharing!

Fic below the cut.

contains: explicit sexual content, fem reader, unprotected sex

The colored lights cast a pinkish hue over your drink. You swirl it around before downing the rest of the glass. Tonight has been very dull, and none of the dancers upstage seem to catch your eye. A sigh escapes you as you get up for a refill, giving the dancers another uninterested glance on your way. That's when you catch him walking into the stage.

He stands tall with black heeled boots, small chains clinking around his ankles with every step. His skin is pale, faintly glowing pink against the lights. A tight, black bunny suit hugs his slim body, and you can see matching bunny ears popping out of cloud-like fluffy white hair. His fingers reach out to wrap around the pole, and you feel as if you couldn't look away if you wanted to.

He looks shy, and for a second you wonder if this could be his first time. Yet his movements are so elegantly smooth, like he could do this in his sleep. You step closer, squirming through the crowd until you stand right in front of him. His back presses against the metal and he spins, looking directly at you. You're close enough to see his cheeks are flushed, lips slightly parted and tilted up into a small smile. He slides down, spreading his legs and arching his back. His head lolls to the side and you reach out your hand, a generous tip between your fingers. He crawls over to you, letting you slip the money into his outfit. You choose to place it underneath his headband, subtly running your fingers through his soft hair. He takes your hand as you pull away, placing a gentle kiss to the inside of your wrist.

"Thank you, love."

His voice is velvety, tickling your ears. You can feel your heart rate picking up, eyes glued to those grey-green ones. He is absolutely ethereal, and his touch lingers long after he's gone. Your eyes follow him around the room, chasing after that pretty boy in a bunny suit. He stops by the bar, and you walk over to him. He looks even taller when you stand next to him. He turns around, and smiles. Your chest feels warm.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"Oh, there's no need. Are you looking for a private dance?"

The barista hands him his drink, and you watch as he takes a sip.

"Straight to the point, are we? I wouldn't say no to one, but I was hoping I could get your name first."

He lets out a small laugh, and you smile. He swipes your hair away from your face, and his fingers slide down to your chin.

"Nagito. You can call me whatever you want, though." - he looks down to your lips, and back into your eyes. - "And what should I call you?"

He tests your name on his tongue, whispering it back to himself and smiling. Nagito offers you his hand, and runs his thumb over your knuckles as he takes you to one of the private rooms. He locks the door and steps closer to you. You reach for his face and he leans down, letting your other hand rest on his neck.

"Say.. what if I wanted something other than a dance?"

Nagito hums, looking down at you with half lidded eyes as he nuzzles into your palm. He smiles, placing his hands on your waist and leaning down until you can feel his breath against your lips.

"I think that can be arranged."

He kisses you eagerly, relishing in the feeling of your hands running over his body. Nagito lets out a little moan when you squeeze his ass, lightly pushing you onto the bed. He crawls on top of you, sitting on your lap as he kisses you with more fervor. His lips slip down your jawline and to your neck, suckling carefully as to not leave any marks. You can feel him grind down against your thigh, his hands slipping under your shirt. You push him back and latch onto his neck, and he sighs contently as you suck a small bruise on the spot.

Nagito is shameless in his love for attention, helping you pull down his outfit and pushing his chest out. You lean down and pull one of his nipples into your mouth, tugging on the other with your fingers as his dig into your hair and run up your back. He whines when you bite down, shivering when your hand runs down his stomach and dips down just below his hips.

"Wait, stop just a little bit."

His voice sounds breathier as he stops your hand, getting up and stripping completely naked. You crawl over and place your hands on his hips, gripping tightly and pulling him closer. You lick a tentative stripe up his shaft, earning a gasp.

"That's not what I- Ah!"

His fingers get buried in your hair, stroking it as you try to take him in deeper. Nagito gasps and moans, watching the way you press your thighs together as he fills your mouth. He whimpers as he pulls out, wanting to let you keep going but aching to pleasure you instead. He pushes you back and climbs on top, slowly taking your shirt off and tossing it aside. He trails kisses from your lips down to your collarbones, running his hands up and down your sides.

"Let me touch you some more, please.."

His hands cup and fondle your breasts. Nagito slowly kisses his way down your body until his hair tickles your thighs. He runs his palms along their inner part, groping the flesh. He starts leaving open mouthed kisses from your knee up to your cunt, licking and nibbling then repeating the process on your other thigh. Nagito tugs your underwear off, slowly running his index finger up your slit and marveling at how wet you are. He brings it up to his mouth and shivers. His hands keep your legs spread with a firm grip, leaning in closer. His dick twitches at your scent, and he moans out loud when his tongue meets your cunt. He runs the flat of his tongue along your slit a couple times before gently suckling on your clit, listening intently to all the sounds you make and keeping his eyes on you. His fingers creep back up and spread your folds, allowing his tongue to delve deeper inside you. He licks and sucks as much of your slick as he can, running his tongue up to trace shapes over your clit and replacing it with his fingers. Your own dig and pull his hair and he moans even louder against you, reaching up with his fingers to press against that sensitive spot. His free hand holds your hips still as best as he can, letting him enjoy you to the fullest.

Nagito barely stops to breathe, eating you out desperately and grinding down on the mattress. His whimpers are almost as loud as you are, doing his best to make you cum before he ends up spilling himself on the sheets. He slips his tongue back in and circles your clit with his thumb when he feels you clench, wanting so badly to have you cum on his mouth. His tongue runs along your pussy, licking up all he can before sucking his fingers clean. He's twitching and leaking precum when he pulls away, looking at your gleeful expression and feeling proud of himself. Nagito watches as you come down from your high, waiting for you to tell him that you're done and hoping you'll let him fuck you. He keeps teasing himself with his fingertips, whimpering and whining softly. You look at him and smile; it's enough to make him twitch again.

"I can keep going if you want to."

"..Are you sure.?"

His voice is a bit strained, and he immediately pounces on you when you nod. Nagito grips your waist tightly, making sure not to hurt you as he slips inside. His breath hitches, and he's softly panting by the time he bottoms out. He kisses your shoulder blade and rests his forehead on the crook of your neck, sighing as you comb your fingers through his hair.

"Are you okay..?"

"Yeah.. you can move."

Nagito adjusts his grip, pushing your legs as far back as they go and leaving a little peck on your calf.

"Let me know if you feel uncomfortable."

His hips pull away slowly and snap back into your own with all his strength. Nagito wastes no time before fucking into you like his life depended on it, moaning and mumbling non-stop. He leans forward, and you can feel him drool against your skin.

"Ah! Hnm, fuck! Yes, you feel so good.. hah, so tight..! Ahn fuck, please let me keep going, please please please..!"

You can feel him abuse your sweet spot, hitting deep inside you with every thrust. His pace is frantic, hard and fast and desperate, like he needs to finish quickly before you change your mind. His eyes are rolling back into his head and his finger dig harshly into your skin, his body presses as close as possible against you and he hiccups. His eyes well up with tears and they start pouring when he gets close. His thumb circles your clit roughly, and he nearly screams when you orgasm for the second time.

"I- fuck, I, haah I'm gonna cum.. I'm gonna, hn please! Please please let me- please, I- ple- ah! Please, oh fuck.. Hnngh thank you.. thank you thank you thank you thank yo- ah!"

He pulls out, cumming all over your stomach and shaking like a leaf. Tears and drool drip down his face as he buries it back in the crook of your neck, holding you as tightly as he can and coming down from his high. His muscles ache and he feels tired, but Nagito still reaches for some wipes and cleans you up. He collapses next to you, curling up with his head 'resting' stiff on your shoulder and a hand hovering over your waist. You place your hand over his shoulder and he relaxes, snuggling closer as you run your hands over his hair and back, letting him rest.

Nagito makes a mental note to slip his number in your pocket later.

[pedro-pascal-love]

The Struggle

Chapter Three of Well, This is Awkward

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ Join My Taglist

Rating: 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 3k+

Summary: Dave and Reader struggle with their situation.

Warnings: Language, angst, slow burn, masturbation, voyeurism

⟸ Previous Chapter ❖ Next Chapter ⟹

Dave was on edge. He was never on edge. For someone with his expertise and skill set, he should not be feeling this way at all, yet here he was. He’d heard Carol leave the house ten minutes ago, and now he waited until you arrived from dropping off the girls. Dave still wasn’t sure how to handle you being the nanny.

Do I ignore her?

Do I pretend it never happened? He thought to himself. The idea of you being accessible 24/7 to him was too much temptation. He strayed in his marriage for the first time, and the universe had to play some sick perverse joke on him by making you their nanny.

Fuck.

He wanted you again.

And again.

And again.

Over and over.

Until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

He felt himself grow hard at the thought of you. He checked his phone for your location (he’d planted a tracker on all the cars and phones to keep tabs not only on Carol but now you as well) and saw that you were still quite a distance away. It looked like you’d stopped at your apartment after dropping off the girls and wouldn’t be back for a little while, so he had time to blow off some steam before potentially facing you. He did feel slightly bad having the boys plant a tracker on your car and phone, but in his line of work, he couldn’t be too careful. From the moment he’d found out who you were, he’d pulled every piece of information on you that he could find. He was surprised to see that you’d graduated with a Master’s Degree in Computer Sciences by the age of 24, having graduated high school at 16.

Smart girl, though why she’s a nanny at the age of 28 is a little odd.

Oh well.

My gain, at least, Dave thought to himself as he thought of how much you’d impressed him. From your wit to the way you carried yourself, Dave found himself slowly getting lost with thoughts of you. He palmed his bulge through his trousers. He thought of your intoxicating scent, the subtle mix of vanilla and lavender, with a hint of cinnamon. The sounds you made when he bit your neck, throwing your head back in ecstasy. He recalled the way your body felt against him. Soft and oh so warm and tender. How you quivered with each touch and breath. How your walls clenched tightly onto him while he pounded into you from behind, feeling every muscle twitch and pulse. The sound of your pants and moans as his finger played with your clit and nipples.

Dave found himself unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard cock.

Fuck, just the thought of her gets me going.

I feel like such a teenager, Dave thought to himself as he began to pump his hardened length, thinking of how warm your mouth felt around his cock. He thought of the way you swirled your tongue so slowly the first few times and how close he was to cumming in your mouth right then and there. Feeling his balls tighten, he picked up the pace and pumped himself faster. He thought of how soaked you’d gotten for him and how you called him Daddy. Dave grew closer and closer to the edge and was just about to find his release when he heard the front door open.

FUCK!

Dave stopped his motions and hastily grabbed his phone. He looked at your location and found that you had indeed returned to the house, and he’d been so distracted he didn’t realize that almost an hour had passed. He looked down at his throbbing cock and groaned. You were so close yet so far away.

Caution and all thought went out the window as he pulled up the house's security camera feed. He watched you make your way to the bedroom they’d set up for you with several duffel bags and put them on the bed, gazing around the room. He admired your outfit, seeing the effort you’d put in to look as modest as possible, even though you were beautiful without even trying. He admired the curve of your ass in the tight-fitting jeans you wore and the swell of your breasts in the loose-fitting blouse you sported. Dave groaned as you bent over to unzip a duffel bag and began to touch himself again. Wrapping his hand around his cock he gently squeezed, imagining it was you wrapped around his length. He imagined himself bending you over the bed as you tried to keep quiet as he plowed himself into you. He imagined the sound of your unrestricted moans while he squeezed the sides of your neck and kissed you. Dave’s pace increased some more as he thought such crude thoughts while watching you on the cameras, and he felt himself grow closer to the precipice of release.

“Oh fuck. Ohhhh fuck,” Dave moaned out, throwing his head back in ecstasy as he stilled his movements and hot beads of cum spurted out and onto his hand and torso.

Fuck, I need to change my shirt now, he thought as he looked at the mess he’d made. He shook his head in disbelief. Had he really resorted to jerking himself off to the images of you like some teenage boy? Something he didn’t even do to the thought of his wife? Apparently yes. Dave got some tissues off his desk and wiped himself off as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. He tucked his now softened cock back into his pants and got up, making his way to the door of his office to get a new shirt.

You were not prepared for today at all. After dropping off Molly and Alice at school, your mind decided it would go a thousand miles a minute and go into overdrive thinking about Dave York. The mere thought of him got your heart beating faster, and you clenched your thighs.

Stop it! You chastised yourself.

He’s married.

Fuck.

I shouldn’t have slept with him, but I didn’t know at the time, but STILL.

I CANNOT SLEEP WITH HIM AGAIN!

Ugh!

You groaned at the situation. You were going to stop by your apartment to pick up a few more things and maybe even pick up your vibrator and dildo because, at this point, you’d need it to keep yourself in check. Sighing, you drove towards your apartment.

“I fucking hate my life,” you said as you kicked your door shut behind you as you stepped in and eyed your apartment. Since you’d be bunking at the York’s on weekdays and most weekends, you had decided to take at least a week or two worth of clothes over and made a mental note to make sure to come back to your apartment on the free weekends, just to get away. You shook your head as you pulled open the drawer under your bed and looked at the various toys you had. You felt yourself get wet thinking of using these toys while under the same roof as Dave or even having him use them on you.

SNAP OUT OF IT DAMMIT!

You really needed to get ahold of yourself. You were only bringing the toys justtttttt in case you needed to get off, and nobody else was home. Yeah, you’d make sure nobody else was home first before deciding to flick the bean… To the thought of your boss.

Dammit.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself as you grabbed a thick pink vibrator and an even wider and longer flesh-colored dildo. Rummaging further into your drawer, you also decided to grab your magic wand and your anal plug. You threw those into the bag of other things you’d decided to bring and made your way out of your apartment and back to the York residence.

Time to get settled into my new part-time home, you thought.

Hopefully, Dave isn’t home.

I don’t think I’m ready to face him just yet.

You quickly drove to their home and parked in the driveway, wearily eyeing the other car in the driveway, signaling that Dave was indeed still home.

“Goddammit,” you cursed as you got out of the car and grabbed your bags. You unlocked the door with your new keys and made your way up to your room, which happened to be down the hall from the master but just one door down from Dave’s office. Carol’s house tour, the day you came over, really came in handy now, especially since you were alone and you really didn’t want to face Dave just yet. You walked into the room and set your bags on the bed, and looked around. It was a huge room, with a king-size bed in the middle and a desk in the corner. To the right, you saw one door leading into the bathroom and another door leading into your walk-in closet that was also attached to the bathroom. If the black card wasn’t evidence enough, it was clear that the Yorks both made mad amounts of money to be able to afford their lifestyle.

I wonder what Dave does for a living since Carol mentioned he makes most of the money.

I don’t think Carol makes enough to afford a black card being an editor for a publisher, you wondered, as you bent down to open your duffle bags and start unpacking.

After a few minutes, you decided to get a glass of water before going to get your two other duffle bags out of your car. As you were exiting the bedroom, you turned and ran into something hard.

“Oof,” you said as you looked up to meet a pair of intense brown eyes gazing down at you, an eyebrow quirked up. “Mr. York, I…uh…I didn’t know you’d be home. Uh. Carol told me that you’d probably be home, but uh, I didn’t think that I’d, um, run into you…” you trailed off. Dave gazed down at you in silence and took hold of your shoulders firmly. You felt yourself grow wet with want.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“I thought I told you to call me Dave, and it’s ok. I’m just going into the bedroom to get a clean shirt, and then I have to get finish up some paperwork,” Dave coolly said as he shifted you to the side so he could walk by. Your breath hitched at the sound of his voice, and you took notice of the button down in his hands as well as the plain white shirt that he wore. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything as he walked past you and went into the bedroom. You sighed as you watched him and shook your head. You quickly walked down the stairs into the kitchen and got yourself a glass of water to quench your thirst, and hopefully, the thoughts of your boss being in the other room changing shirts, stripping himself bare as he changed.

Stop it, you chastised yourself again. You finished up the glass and went outside to grab the last of your stuff, hurriedly making your way back into your room right after.

His heart was pounding. Seeing you again and being so close to you was intoxicating. He wasn’t expecting you to run right into his chest, giving him a whiff of your scent. The doe-eyed look in your eyes made him almost throw his resolve out the window and take you right there in the hallway. Almost. He’d composed himself and steeled away his intrusive thoughts as he moved you out of the way and calmly told you to call him Dave and that he was going to change his shirt. He could feel your eyes watching him as he made his way into his bedroom, and he’d half hoped that you’d say something but knew that the shock of seeing him so soon was what held you back. He chuckled to himself.

Such a nervous little thing, he thought to himself as he went into his walk-in closet and pulled out another shirt and threw his dirty one in the hamper. He really needed to get a grip on himself, especially since you were under the same roof as him. He pulled out his phone as he watched you make your way to your car and get the rest of your bags and hastily make your way back into the bedroom, thinking that you were hiding away from him. Little did you know that he had eyes on you even when he wasn’t physically there. His eyes bugged out of his head as he watched you open up a duffle bag and pull out a thick long pink vibrator and an equally long dildo. He nearly choked when he saw you pull out your wand and an anal plug and place them into the nightstand drawer next to your bed.

“Oh, you dirty girl,” he chuckled. He watched as you finished putting away all your clothes and toiletries and then go and lay in the middle of the bed and close your eyes. He felt so dirty and perverted for watching you go about your business, none the wiser to the hidden cameras throughout the house, but at least you were only just lying there - wait, nope, not anymore. He groaned out as he saw you slip your hand down into your pants and moan.

“Fuck,” he whispered as you stopped your motions and pulled your pants off, exposing your sweet wet pussy. He felt himself grow hard again and sighed.

I really can’t catch a break, can I?

You resumed your previous actions, running your hand down your torso and drawing small circles on your thighs before you slipped two fingers into your cunt. He watched, entranced with your movements, and palmed himself through his pants, wishing that he were at the foot of the bed watching you right now. Oh, the things he’d make you do to yourself, especially with the toys that you brought with you. He squeezed his phone as you moved and took out the vibrator from the drawer and brought it to your clit, watching as you tossed your head back in a moan, but biting your lip to quiet yourself.

“Fuck, baby girl, keep going,” he urged you through the screen as you pumped your fingers into your leaking pussy and then replaced it with the vibrator. He groaned and bit his lip as you brought yourself closer to the edge, and it took all his willpower not to just barge in and take what he wanted.

No, I’ll just have to toy with her a little bit, he thought to himself with a smirk. Dave shut off his phone and took a deep breath. He needed to see how far he could push you before you’d give in to him. All thoughts of controlling himself when it came to you went out the door when he saw you spread out on the bed playing with yourself in his own house. With him just rooms away.

“Such a dirty fucking girl,” he breathed out as he got up and adjusted himself in his pants. He made his way out of the bedroom and down the hall and stood outside your door. He pulled his phone out once again and opened it to see you were still getting yourself off, only now you were rubbing your clit while pumping the vibrator into you. He decided to see what you’d do and knocked on the door. He smirked to himself when he saw you pause your movements, eyes wide with fear. He watched as you bit your lip and kept going, probably thinking that you heard things. He was going to love this.

“Hey, are you in there?” He called out and knocked again. You stilled your movements and let out a little moan.

“…Ye…Yes, Dave, give me a second!” you replied out of breath as you started up again. He watched as you pumped the toy faster into your cunt and rubbed your clit even harder.

“No problem, I was just letting you know that I was going to be in my office if you needed me,” he replied. He watched on his phone as you bit back another moan and contorted your face into that of pleasure as you reached your orgasm.

“Oh, ok!” you replied once you’d come down from your high, taking a moment to recompose yourself. Dave chuckled to himself as he made his way back to his office and shut the door, proud of himself for making you so nervous but also very turned on at the fact that you’d continued touching yourself while he was just on the other side of the door.

“Such a goddamn dirty girl,” he said to himself as he set about doing some tedious paperwork to try and distract himself from the fact that you were probably still touching yourself.

This was going to be a very long day.

You groaned as you sat up, having put your toys away and gotten pants on.

Dammit dammit dammit, you thought as you got up and went to the bathroom. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t do anything rash like that unless you were home alone, yet the run-in with Dave had thrown all caution into the wind. You couldn’t help but think about how hot it would’ve been if he’d walked into your room after knocking, seeing you spread out dripping at the thought of him. You shook your head and splashed some cold water on your face.

“Get a hold of yourself! He’s still a fucking married man,” you reminded yourself, annoyed at the fact that at that moment in time, you didn’t give a shit.

You wanted Dave, you wanted him bad, and you were damn sure that you’d be going to hell for it.

⟸ Previous Chapter ❖ Next Chapter ⟹

[hurting-fictional-people]

Betrayal story - part 4

Look, the story has a name (hopefully I’ll come up with a better one later)! And the characters do too!

Anyways, if someone hasn’t seen the picrews (it’s here if you want to), Whumpee is now Liam Beaumont, Caretaker is Chase Raymond and Whumper is Jonah Sharpe. If you have trouble remembering: Caretaker still starts with a C no I totally didn’t give him a name that starts with a C on purpose what are you talking about and I think you’ll get very different vibes from Liam and Jonah haha

CW: electric torture, forced to watch, whumpee held hostage, hurt no comfort (for now), restraints

tagging  @thelazywitchphotographer @swift-perseides @whump-it-like-its-hot  @sunflower1000  @msrandonstuff @fromtheo-withlove  @boxofsilence  @lionhxartx @sometouchofmadness @paleassprince

Part one here, continued from here

-

Twelve messages wait for Chase when he picks up his phone. All from Jonah, all demanding him to work quicker, to give in new information faster. He purses his lips and takes a deep breath, clutching the new drive he was given to fill. 

After so many betrayals, he should be used to the sting that comes along with lying and deceiving. He’s done it before, felt that guilt, drowned in it – and yet he can’t help but hesitate. Liam’s pale lips, creased brows, shallow breaths, sparkle to life in his mind, a painful reminder of what is at stake if he annoys Jonah too much. Right beside Liam’s face, though, are the ones of Chase’s team, his friends, his family, all trusting smiles and loving gazes he cannot ignore. It’s enough for him to type a message and turn off the phone.

Working on it, Chase sends and hopes it is enough to keep the man quiet for at least another day as he turns his computer on and starts erasing from the drive the most meaningful information he’s stolen.

-

When Jonah bursts into his room, Liam is almost happy to see him. Five days have passed since he’s woken up in a room instead of the cell, and all he’s had since then is loneliness and echoing silence. With the only human interaction he was given being the occasional visit from a nurse who gave him a clinical once-over and refused to so much as look him in the eye, it was no real surprise when his thoughts spiraled out of control, swirling around and sinking down between Chase’s inevitable and yet somehow unexpected betrayal, and his new status as a hostage. 

“Doing better?” Jonah asks, leaning against the doorframe. Liam’s heart pounds both in relief and terror at the sound of a voice that isn’t his own.

“Do you care?”

“Getting some rest got your tongue loose, I see.”

“Why are you keeping me here?” That’s the question that’s been eating him alive, disrupting his sleep, watering his fear into a blossoming flower of dread that grows and suffocates any hope that tries to bloom beside it. Each answer Liam’s imagined sounds worst than the last, but if there is truth in any of them, he has to know. To prepare. 

“We talked about this already, didn’t we?”

Jonah’s eyes are as cold as he remembers from their few encounters, but this time something lurking there whispers stories of anger and pain to come, and that alone is enough to raise goosebumps along his entire body. 

“What do you want to let me go?” What could he have to give a man who is already filthy rich, when Liam has nothing to offer but a cramped apartment and a lot of resentment?

“Nothing you can offer, lovely,” Jonah chuckles. “Fair try, though.”

But nothing about this is fair, in any possible way. “So you are just going to keep me here because you don’t like Chase? I have nothing to do with him, please just let me the fuck go and I won’t even tell anyone, you–“

“Liam, honey, let us clear something up. There is nothing you can do to convince me to let you go. All you can do is comply, and maybe I’ll be merciful if you do, but you are mine for the time being, and there is no one here to help you but me.”

Liam’s reply dies on his tongue, killed by the unrestricted horror the words wash him over with. It doesn’t sound real. Sounds like something he’d watch in a movie, read in a book, hear about on the news. To hear them directed at him and feel the pulsating response from the healing stab wound in his gut, makes him hold his breath and pray to just wake up from this nightmare. When did his life turn into this? Was it when he met Chase? Was it before? 

“Now that that’s out of the way, come on, we have somewhere to go today.”

Liam’s stomach drops to the ground, farther, falling and falling to the center of the Earth as he clenches the sheets in his fists and hisses, “Last time you said that, you locked me up until I got an infection.”

“Ha, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Jonah says, raising a brow. Liam doesn’t even blink at the grin playing on his lips. “Don’t worry, love, I don’t make the same mistake twice. We’re having a different kind of fun today. Up now, or I’ll call my men to do it for you.”

Gritting his teeth, Liam pushes the sheets away and slowly stands up, holding his side and fighting a groan, but on his feet without help.

They walk in silence, and neither Jonah nor the guards say anything about how slow he is, or how terribly pitiful he looks stumbling through the hallways. A thousand words speed through his brain, pleading to be heard, but he doesn’t voice any of his questions. Doesn’t think he’d get an answer if he did, anyway.

He is led into a nearly barren room, with only a camera over a tripod standing in front of a wooden chair. A wooden chair surrounded by restraints.

He takes a step back before his brain catches up with the movement, straight against a guards’ chest. Jonah giggles and tuts softly. 

Two men grab his arms and drag him to the chair, and the panic suddenly becomes so deep, so all-encompassing, it swallows down his fight. He is pushed down on the chair, the restraints are buckled around him until all Liam can move is his head, and all the while he just sits there, hyperventilating and near to tears, as still as a statue. Watching but never moving, terrified but frozen in place, petrified, and he hates himself for it, even if he knows the feeling should be directed at Jonah and Jonah alone.

“Well, I didn’t know you’d be so pliable, sweetheart,” Jonah mocks, setting the camera up. “I would’ve played with you sooner had I known.”

He parts his lips, but the words refuse to form. Fear envelops each of them before Liam can push them through gritted teeth, and all he does is stare at the guards surrounding him, at the cold stickers being placed on his arms, his shoulders, his hands. Liam shivers, but there’s no air current here.

“Why, why, why are you doing this?” he chokes out. He knows what’s about to happen, has seen it on television enough times to recognize the electrodes, the box placed next to the chair. 

“Because Chase pissed me off today,” he shrugs, and a red light blinks to life in front of the camera. Jonah walks toward him, stops in front of the chair, and smiles. Liam’s eyes are blown wide as he stares up at the man. “Has Chase ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?”

The weight on his stomach is so huge that Liam can’t even find energy enough to feel outraged.

Jonah pulls out a linen scarf from his pocket as the guards plug wires to each sticker and wiggles it in front of Liam’s face. “Here, I’d bite down on this if I were you.” When he fails to open his mouth, the man rolls his eyes and grabs his cheeks, squeezing so suddenly and cruelly his mouth opens without command and the scarf is shoved inside, making him gag. “Not that well behaved, huh. No problem, we have time to get you obeying.”

When the guards take a step away, Liam finds himself wishing they didn’t. 

“Smile at the camera, love,” Jonah says, stepping to the side so Liam is the only one being recorded. He stares straight at the lens and tries to draw in a deep breath.

He knows it is coming. He prepares for it. And then Jonah flips a switch, and there’s no preparing for pain so big, for agony so deep.

The world shatters around him as electricity lights up his body, turns him inside out, upside down, and no breath could’ve ever made this any better. There’s no air to breathe, no room to writhe, no place to escape. There is only pain, boundless and searing, here and now, splitting him into thousands of shards he can never hope to piece back together.

And then it stops, and his throat is raw but he doesn’t remember screaming and his chest heaves as he fights for air and tears fall from his eyes to his chin to his chest but he doesn’t remember crying either.

“Beautiful,” Jonah sighs somewhere close. Liam coughs and chokes on his own tears, trying to beg or maybe cry out, but whatever his mouth forms gets caught on the gag before it reaches anyone’s ears.

Please please please stop, it hurts, hurts so much, so, so much, please, please–

“Let’s go again.”

Liam doesn’t have time to even be scared before his world dissolves into burning agony once more. All he can do is scream and silently plead for help he knows isn’t coming.

-

When Chase turns on the phone, his heart nearly stops at the video awaiting him.

Two hours have passed. After five days of trying to convince that despicable man to let him see Liam and failing miserably, barely sleeping, worry and guilt eating at his insides, he fell asleep. He forgot. For one hundred and twenty minutes he allowed himself to rest, and now he is paid with Liam’s frozen image staring at him, waiting on Jonah’s chat, along with one single line of text that chills him to the bone.

This is for turning off the phone.

He clicks and feels a chasm opening in his gut when Liam fills the screen, strapped to a chair, scared eyes darting around a room Chase can’t see through the video, searching for an escape that is nowhere to be found, stopping on each electrode that is stuck to his body. The fear is clear as crystal on his face. It makes Chase’s heart squeeze until his chest is so tight he places a hand there, afraid to find it as hollow as he feels. Liam doesn’t talk, doesn’t scream, doesn’t beg. He simply blinks at the men towering over him and doesn’t ask for help, and that might be what truly undoes Chase.

And then Jonah turns on the switch, and Liam’s head snaps back, body contorting against restraints so tight there’s no room for him the thrash. Even through the gag, he screams, and Chase would scream as well if he wasn’t too busy gripping the phone as if his life depended on it, trying to steady his trembling hands.

When the shock stops, Liam’s face is tear-stained and exhausted, sobs wracking his body and ripping apart Chase’s soul. 

His fault.

It is his fault. After everything, after betraying Liam into not trusting anyone, after losing the boy who might’ve been the love of his life, after being responsible for his stabbing, his kidnapping, after everything–

The switch is turned on again, and this time when Liam screams, Chase’s eyes well up with tears he has no right to cry. A kind of rotten helplessness takes over his body, its clawed fingers wrapping around his arms, his legs, his heart and squeezing, whispering and shouting his failure, his guilt, his powerlessness. His eyes plead to close, but he needs to see this. It is his fault, his burden, and if Liam was forced through it, he has to at least watch it to the end. If anything, to know he’s still alive.

It lasts longer the second time. A life. His useless life. Liam convulses and cries and howls, and if Chase could only take the pain to himself, he would. He would switch places with Liam in the blink of an eye. He is the one who deserves that pain. He is the one who betrays and hurts and destroys anything he touches, and it should be him, not the boy who smiles at the sunrise and cries over books and dreams about changing the world. 

He stares unblinking at the screen and watches in silence as electricity courses again and again through that body he had once held and thought about spending a life beside, fogging those eyes that used to engulf him in love, twisting that face he once kissed and touched and loved into one of raw despair. Each time it stops, neither of them has time to catch their breath before it starts again. After the third time, Liam doesn’t cry out anymore. His voice breaks in a ragged wail until it dies down and all that’s left are silent sobs.

When the video ends, Chase is nearly numb. The last image shows Liam’s head hanging forward as he struggles to breathe, Jonah’s fingers casually carding through his sweaty hair.

Chase is out of his house before his brain even processes what he’s doing, inside his car, driving to Jonah’s building in a blur of hatred and desperation. When he parks in front of the tower, the phone buzzes and he doesn’t hesitate to read it. Not anymore. Never again.

You lost visit privileges. Leave the drive with the guard at the door and keep in touch. 

With Liam’s screams still ringing inside his mind, forever trapped there, he doesn’t dare do anything other than what he is told. He gives the guard the flash drive, and for the first time in years, he prays. Because if anyone notices the most important files missing… he can’t bear the thought of what could be done to Liam in retribution. 

(next)

[nastybuckybarnes]

Monsters  -  Two

Pairing: Dark!Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a man who just wants to do better. But he can’t stop the monster from coming out every now and then. As a last and hopeless attempt at calming The Winter Soldier, SHIELD finds him something they figured would help. An innocent young woman with not a lot going for her. Or, The Winter Soldiers newest victim.

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Smut (DUBCON), Somnophilia, Injuries, Dark Themes, Language,

Word Count: 3.2K

A/n: Here you go! Pissed this out in like, an hour because I’m starting to really really like this series already lol. Hope you enjoy!

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!

Part One!

~*~

You pace around the kitchen of the small house, fingers stuck in your hair, pulling it at the roots.

You've been here for four hours. Alone. The Captain gave you few words before pushing you into the house and closing the door behind himself, leaving you alone with nothing but your thoughts and the worst-case-scenarios that your mind has been conjuring since leaving Fury's office.

There's no way for you to leave the house. That much you gathered quickly. After bruising your fingers trying to pry the door open, and wracking your brain trying to figure out a loophole for the DNA keypad, you gave up. The windows are all made of the thickest glass you've ever encountered, and nothing you’ve thrown at them made them crack in the slightest.

So you brought yourself to the kitchen, hoping to find a weapon to use to defend yourself, only to be disappointed. All the cabinets and drawers are locked. Why everything is locked and reinforced so much, you have no clue. And it only makes you more nervous.

Now you pace, back and forth and back and forth in the kitchen, trying desperately to figure out what they have planned for you and why they're doing this. They're supposed to be heroes, for god's sake. 

Protectors. And yet they lock you in a strange place, with no contact with the outside world and no chance of escape. You find yourself wondering if they're really any better than the people they fight.

The front door beeps twice then opens, freezing you mid-step.

You stare at one of the two hallways leading to the kitchen, each hallway meeting in the front foyer and leading to the front door. The fact that there are two ways to access the kitchen puts you at ease and on edge at the same time. You won't know where the intruder is coming from, but you'll have an escape if they mean to harm you.

You strain your ears, listening intently for whoever is in the house. It's futile, however, because anyone entering the house would be a highly trained spy and would know how to stay quiet and be undetected.

"Jesus Christ, they really did it," A male voice whispers from behind you. You spin around, facing the hallway behind you. You stare up at him and instantly recognize him as the Winter Soldier. 

He's wearing a casual outfit, black fitted jeans and a black hoodie, hands shoved into his pockets. His hair is long and unkempt around his head, and his eyes are a striking blue that seems to stare straight through your body and into your soul.

He remembers seeing a picture of you, one picture among thousands of others of women that fury deemed 'replaceable'. His lack of regard for human life made the metal armed soldier uneasy, and seeing you here in front of him makes him feel sick to his stomach.

"A-are you gonna hurt me?" The words fly from your lips before you can stop them, and you flinch away from him, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate a hostile move on his part.

He sighs, the sound bordering on a scoff, and shakes his head, metal fingers coming up and raking through his hair.

"No. I'm not gonna hurt you. Not on purpose." You peak your eyes open at that, curious about his intentions.

"C-Captain Rogers and Commander Fury said that I'm here to 'personally help you' and to 'take care of you'... what do they mean by that?" He looks at your frightened eyes then down to the ground.

"I uh... it..." He shakes his head and groans.

"I've been... falling back into old habits. At night... I get triggered into the soldier. And I've been trying to... hurt my female companions lately. The Captain thinks that having a woman to help satisfy my... primal desires will make me less of a hazard on the field." The words roll over in your mind and you look up at him.

"So I've been taken as some sort of sex slave?!" He winces at the way you spit the ugly words, not wanting to think about it like that.

"Well... no... I don't know! I was opposed to it, but they insisted. So... I picked you out of everyone. You've got a pretty face... and your body..." He trails off, eyes roaming up and down your figure then returning to your eyes. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods. "Out of everyone, I'm glad it was you. You're... perfect." You ignore his compliments and shake your head.

"Do you realize that I've been taken against my will here?! I've been brought here to service you in a way that I don't want to. And now I'm going to be forced to have sex with you? None of this is consensual! None of this is right!" You shake your head angrily, trying to come up with a solution.

"You said you're against it, so tell them to let me go! I didn't agree to any of this!"

"Did you or did you not willingly come meet with me?" You jump, spinning around quickly as Fury walks into the room, arms crossed over his chest. Your hands tremble, anger and fear chasing each other through your veins.

"You willingly came to the tower to meet me. You accepted the job by coming in for the meeting. You cannot by law say that that was against any of your human rights. You accepted a job then came in to learn about the requirements. That is your own fault." You shake your head, hands clenching into fists.

"I changed my mind during the meeting. I told you I didn't want to do it. I signed no contract, I made no legally binding agreement." The man in front of you grins.

"There's fine print in everything I send. The email specifically said 'by going to this meeting I am accepting the position and all it entails'. It's not my fault you didn't read it. Now I advise you to stop complaining. Who knows, maybe you'll enjoy this position, and any others he decides to put you in."

You grimace and glance over your shoulder at the soldier. His cheeks are pink and he's staring at the ground.

"Now, I came to drop off your belongings. They're being put into the bedroom as we speak. I took the liberty of throwing in a few things I thought the two of you may need. Now, Barnes, any questions?" 

You turn around and look at the brunet, eyes pleading with him to tell the other man to call this whole thing off. He stares into your eyes for a long silent moment then looks over your shoulder.

"I think this arrangement will help my performance on the field and in the office. I want to get started right away." Your heart sinks and you shake your head.

"Alright. By all means," Fury gestures towards you and you turn away from the brunet, tears prickling your eyes.

You go to push past the dark-skinned man when he grabs you by the wrist, staring at you with hard eyes.

"I can be a very patient man, but even my patience has limits. You agreed to this position, you chose your fate. Don't blame anyone else for your lack of attention to detail." You tear your arm from him and level him with a hard glare.

"Barnes, bring her upstairs. If she can't be talked into submission, maybe other methods will work better." An arm is wound around your waist and you start thrashing immediately.

"No! Let me go! Stop!" He ignores you, scooping you up in his arms with ease and taking you up the stairs.

"Let go of me! Help! Please! Someone Help!" He pushes into a huge bedroom and tosses you onto the bed, arms crossing over his chest as he stares at you.

"No one can hear you," Fury says, coming into the room shortly after. Tears streak down your face and you glare at both of them.

"Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be out ruining another innocent person's life?" He chuckles and looks over at the soldier.

"You've got a fiery one. Have fun with her." He turns and leaves the room, the beep of the lock letting you know that he's left the house.

You and James have a staredown as you sit on the bed and he stands by the wall, not moving, simply staring at you.

You finally give in, looking down at your hands, fingers trembling. "Please don't do it," you whisper, desperation dripping from your words. He sighs heavily and you feel the few shards of hope you have left glue themselves back together.

"Please. I just... please don't hurt me." When you look up he's directly in front of you, making you gasp.

"Why are you so against it?" He asks suddenly.

"I just..." You don't want to confess your fear to the man in front of you. You don't want him to know that he haunts your nightmares already.

"If you can't give me a good reason then why shouldn't I?" His voice is harder than before, stern, with an aggravated edge to it.

You take a deep breath and clench your hands into fists.

"Because you scare me," you finally whisper. "I've heard so many stories... seen so many things... and you scare me. I don't want to believe them but... this makes me wonder if they're all right about you. If you're truly the monster they say you are." The air is still and heavy with the weight of your words, and you find yourself regretting them instantly.

A metal hand is suddenly around your throat, pushing you and forcing you back on the mattress until your back hits the headboard.

You grab his wrist fruitlessly, struggling to drag in a breath as you look up at him. His eyes are dark with anger, and his chest is heaving.

"A monster? You think I'm a monster?!" He chuckles lowly without humour, shaking his head as he kneels on the bed. "I'll show you a fucking monster." He lets go of your throat and you gasp, coughing as the pressure gets released. You're definitely going to have finger-shaped bruises in the morning.

He grabs your knees and tears them apart, ignoring the scream of pain that leaves your lips as you feel a muscle in your thigh get pulled.

"Do you know how easy this is for me?" He demands, grabbing the fabric of your shirt and tearing it down the middle.

"Overpowering you is nothing to me. I could break you so fucking easily if I really wanted to. If I wanted to be a monster. I could make you cry and scream and wish for death." You sob loudly, fighting to free yourself as he presses his half-hard length against your centre through the layers of clothing separating the two of you.

"If I wanted to fuck you, I would. If I wanted to show you how much of a fucking monster I can be, I would. Because I can. And there's nothing you can do about it. You'll never be strong enough to fight back, strong enough to run. You belong to me now. Realize it. Embrace it. And don't fucking get on my bad side or you'll regret it."

He pushes off of you, kneeling between your legs and glaring down at you where you lay. You're shaking and sobbing, but he gives no indication that he cares.

"You haven't seen a monster yet, but test me again and I'll show you what a monster really looks like." You hiccup another sob, eyes staying trained on him. He glares at you for a moment longer before spitting at you. You flinch, humiliation pumping through your body as he chuckles.

"You're pathetic," he whispers, pushing himself off of the bed and leaving the room without another word.

You stay trembling and crying on the bed for what feels like hours after that, not moving for fear of aggravating your captor and your injured leg.

Meanwhile, Bucky sits in the living room, a glass of whiskey in his hand and regret swimming in his mind. He didn't mean to hurt you so bad, but you calling him a monster when you have no idea what he's been through? He won't tolerate that. He needed to put you in your place. To show you who you belong to. If you cooperate, you can enjoy yourself but if you misbehave, you'll be punished.

~*~

You're not sure when you fall asleep, but you're slowly roused from your slumber by a warm tongue sweeping itself over your clit.

A soft moan leaves your lips and your roll your hips gently, sleep clouding your thoughts.

The mouth disappears only to be replaced by something hot and big. Your eyelids flutter before slowly opening, and you feel confusion fill you as a big body hovers over you.

"Wh-what...?" You trail off, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as the man pushes his cock inside of you, stretching you out in the most perfectly painful way.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" He asks, voice thick and husky, the slightest twinge of a Russian accent decorating his words. Your hands find his shoulders and you blink a few times, the events of the day rushing into your brain.

"Wait... s-stop..." He doesn't. Instead, he cradles your head in his hands and presses gentle kisses to your face.

"You're okay. It feels nice. You like it. It feels good when you listen." His voice is so deep and perfect... you can't help but nod.

"This is what you're here for," he grunts, pumping into you harder. He grabs your hips and pulls out of you, only to flip you onto your stomach.

"This is why they brought you here. You're here for me to fuck. For me to have." He pushes back in and you gasp as he hits deeper than before.

"Yeah... feels so good... you were made for me, weren't you?" You find yourself nodding to his words again. He fucks into you hard and fast, his mind focused on his own release.

"Your cunt is so nice and tight and wet. So perfect for me. Waiting for me to fuck it, destroy it." You mewl in response, arching your back as he pounds into you, the slap of his hips against your ass making you even wetter for him.

You block out the shame of it all, ignore the fact that a few hours ago, this man was hurting and humiliating you.

His thrusts stutter for a moment before he picks up the pace again, this time reaching his metal fingers around to toy with your clit. "Gonna make you cum on my cock. You might not admit it, but you fuckin' love getting used like a dirty little whore. You like having your pussy fucked full of my fat cock. You fucking love it." 

Your body starts convulsing, pussy clenching hard around him as he pushes you over the edge into an orgasm. Your eyes roll back, head spinning at the intensity of it.

"Fuckin' feel that... fuck... Fuck!" He spills inside of you, warm white filling you up then spilling out over your swollen cunt.

He pulls out and collapses on the bed beside you, panting hard. Your body aches, pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing while his seed spills out of you, staining the sheets.

You lower your hips and stretch out on your stomach, catching your breath and riding the aftershocks of your climax.

He rubs your back gently and you're surprised by the intimate and kind gesture.

"You only get punished when you're bad," he whispers. You don't acknowledge him and he sighs.

"I'll probably come to you again tonight, and I'll probably be rougher. I can't control myself when he takes over. If you fight back then it'll only be worse for you. Just lie back and take it, okay?" You still say nothing, yelping when his hand comes down hard on your ass. "Okay," you finally whisper, skin burning where he hit you.

"Good. Now, I'm gonna go make dinner. I expect you down in half an hour." He climbs off the bed without another word and leaves the room.

You stay there, silent tears sliding down your face at the fact that this man just fucked you, but worse, you liked it.

~*~

Dinner is silent, you limping to the table and wincing every time you shift your weight. Your ass burns, your pussy aches, and you definitely tore something in your thigh.

But Bucky seems to be in good spirits.

You only manage to force down a few bites before you push your plate away, stomach flipping uncomfortably.

“Eat,” he says, staring at your full plate then looking up to your eyes.

“I’m not hungry,” you whisper, voice rough and scratchy from the way he crushed your throat earlier. He sighs heavily and tosses his fork onto the table, leaning forward to look at you.

“My goal wasn’t to hurt you. Just to show you that I’m only a monster if you want me to be. I can be nice to you. I made you cum twice while you slept.” 

That explains the deep throb in your pussy.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I think they’re right. I need you. More importantly, the soldier needs you. I think I'll be able to control him better. I know you’re not the biggest fan of this, but you’ve gotta admit that you enjoyed it.” You say nothing, but the way you shift in your seat makes him grin.

“This can be good for both of us. Just relax and accept it. I won’t hurt you again, not on purpose. And not unless you give me a reason to.” You simply nod, not wanting to be having any type of conversation with this man.

“Hate it all you want, but you can’t deny your body’s reaction to me. Just give in.” You glare at your plate, the word ‘monster’ bouncing around in your mind as he resumes eating as if he isn't holding you hostage here.

~*~

You can’t sleep. Your body aches too much and you’re far too terrified of him visiting you in the form of the Soldier.

It’s a little past two in the morning, and you’re fighting your heavy lids when the door to what he deemed as ‘your’ bedroom opens.

His eyes are dark and distant, and you know that this isn’t the same man as before.

He’s naked, cock hanging freely between his legs. An impressive nine inches of thick, hard flesh, waiting to abuse your cunt yet again.

He climbs onto the bed and pulls the blankets away from your body. You try to relax, you really do, but with the rough way he strips you of your clothes, it’s hard not to panic.

His hands come beside your head as he situates himself between your thighs, his huge frame making you feel even smaller and even more intimidated. He nudges his hard cock at your entrance and you wince as he pushes in with little preparation.

It stings. The stretch and pull off his cock dragging against your walls.

He gives you no time to get adjusted before he starts a fast and borderline brutal pace, not giving a single fuck about the way he’s abusing your pussy. You whimper, hands coming up and instinctively pushing against his shoulders to try and get him to slow down.

He mutters something in Russian, then grabs your hands and pins them above your head, squeezing your wrists together tightly in his metal hand. You yelp in pain, trying to twist into a more comfortable position. He doesn’t let up and you accept the pain, allowing it to distract you from the vicious way he’s fucking you. His other hand grabs your legs and pulls them up over his shoulders, leaning down so his body is hovering just above yours.

His hips slam into you, cock hitting your cervix painfully with each thrust.

“Ow! S-slow down, please! I-it hurts!” You beg him to have mercy, and he quickly grows tired of hearing your voice. The hand supporting his weight comes up and presses hard on your throat. With no free hands, he presses harder against your wrists to keep himself upright, the pressure on your neck growing with each savage thrust of his hips.

The edges of your vision start to get spotty and black, your mouth parted in a desperate attempt to drag in a breath of air. Your body starts going numb, and soon you can’t even feel him inside of you. Your ears start to ring and after a painfully long moment, the world goes black.

The soldier continues fucking your pliant body, even after you’ve passed out. He fucks you hard and fast until he finally finishes.

He cums hard, filling you up with his seed and leaving his mark on your abused walls. He pulls out of you with a soft grunt, then leaves you alone and unconscious in the middle of the bed, cum painting your swollen pussy white, and bruises already forming on your wrists and neck.

~

[avversiera-writes]

touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 10

Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.

Word Count: about 5k

AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART

AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART

[<<<CHAPTER ONE] [CHAPTER TWO] [CHAPTER THREE] [CHAPTER FOUR] [CHAPTER FIVE] [CHAPTER SIX] [CHAPTER SEVEN] [CHAPTER EIGHT] [CHAPTER NINE] 

“You’re really going?” Madara inquires. He is seated in front of you, with a small wooden table between. A candle and two cups of tea sits on its surface. 

 You smile at him. “Yeah. I need to make amends. Help out those who need help and be good, whatever that means.” 

 Madara’s eyebrows knit in worry. “I could come with you.” 

You let out a chuckle and you reach for your friend’s hand. “It’s okay. I can handle my own. You know I need to do this.”

 Madara looks at you doubtfully, then he stares at your hand on top of his. For a moment, the two of you sit in silence. You glance at Madara’s face, the candle light flickering shadows on his skin. You notice the dark bags underneath his eyes and you worry about whether he is not getting any sleep. Madara moves his hand to cover yours, and he squeezes it. 

“I…” Madara starts. He presses his thin lips together. 

 You raise your eyebrows up, expectant. 

 “Nevermind,” Madara sighs. 

You lean forward to encourage him. “Come on. You can tell me anything.” 

 Madara’s eyes grow hesitant. His thumb grazes over your skin, and the action makes you swallow your words. This makes you sad. Someone finally cares about you and you are going to leave them behind. 

“Madara,” you whine. 

 “What will you do when you get back?” Madara asks tentatively. 

You stare at your friend, trying to think. You did not think about this ahead. “I do not know.” 

 “Will you still pursue a career of being a shinobi?” 

“Of course,” you tell him. “It is my life.” 

 Madara nods, and he looks to the side. “Will you be happy, if you do?” 

Your eyes swim for a moment. “Madara, what is going on?” 

Madara retracts his hand and buries it underneath the table. “Nothing.”

 “Madara?” You call for him. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.” 

Madara nods, and a small smile softens his cold features. “Don’t die. I will not forgive you, if you do.” 

 You smirk, and you slowly stand up. “That’s a given.” 

You head towards the exit of his room. You hesitate to slide it open, your fingers resting at the handle. 

“I do not have any plans. I do not have a dream either,” you start to say. “But I want to figure it out. See where I stand in the grand scheme of things.”

You move your arm to slide the door open. 

 “That is not an easy path to take,” Madara warns, moving his hand to take his cup. 

 “When did I ever want easy?” You give him a huge grin, one full of bravado. If you are being honest, you are afraid of going out there once again, but this is the way forward. 

Pride is the last thing you see from Madara’s eyes before you close his door. 

//

You do not see Tobirama until the day you have to be on the Academy grounds, where the ceremony to announce its new curriculum and reformation is going to happen. You stay by the sidelines, your eyes tracking him as he moves about. His face and his demeanor is calm, but there is an air of frenzy surrounding him, as if his skin is itching but he cannot scratch it to ease his discomfort. The sun travels high across the sky, and the expression on Tobirama’s face becomes worse. His eyes start to squint, giving an impression that he is glaring at just about anything he sees, and the lines of his face start to form a scowl. 

 People start to gather in front of the Academy, children, parents, and people visiting from outside of Konoha. You stick to the shadows, carefully watching your back just in case another person tries to pull a knife on you again. 

 That is the only reason you want to get out there again–to offer help to anyone who is desperate to go after you, and to stop the bounty on your head. You know that you must come back to where it all began. Instead of hurting others, you want to use your skills to save because you think you can do it. Hashirama and Madara believe you can do it. 

 You wait for a little bit more, and finally, Hashirama and Tobirama take to the stage that was quickly built this morning. Hashirama says a few good words after retelling the brief beginnings of Konoha and the alliances between the clans that reside in it, and then, he steps aside to let his brother speak. 

 Tobirama glares at the crowd. You watch him with amusement. 

“My brother has a vision of what the Academy can be,” Tobirama begins. “It is not only a place to train young shinobis, but it is also a place to foster an environment where they can excel in many areas such as the sciences and the arts. I proudly announce that I have reformed the Academy to be exactly that…”

You frown. 

 Tobirama finishes his speech and goes on to summarize the curriculum by reading the titles and its author . There is no mention of your name anywhere. Not even a slight reference to you. 

 Something hot washes over you, and it makes your head dizzy. 

 When Tobirama steps off the stage, he nods at everyone and his brother and welcomes the people to explore the Academy. 

 You fight through the crowd to get to him, but he gets farther and farther away. 

You see Hashirama clutching a copy of the curriculum in one arm as he entertains a few children. 

 You wait for an opening, and you fake your smile as you greet Hashirama and ask to see the book. 

 You stare at the first page where Tobirama’s name is printed. Your head becomes empty. 

Suddenly, you push the book back into Hashirama and you bound after Tobirama with a boiling determination to bury your fist into his face. You try not to shout his name in the crowd, and instead, you run to him and you violently push him into another direction.

"I can't believe you!" You almost shout, once the two of you step into the empty classroom.

 Tobirama's hard expression does not change. 

You have never felt rage like this. You have been angry to the point that it gives you enough power to destroy things, but this rage is different. You only see fire, and it makes your heart burn and your face hot. Most of all, it makes tears prick your eye, making your vision blurry. All you can do is yell out because this one really stings. 

 “Are you not going to say anything?” You bark. “Say something or I am going to take my katana and fucking stick it up your arrogant, senile ass!” 

 Tobirama seems to take his time to make up his mind. You are too angry to see the conflict crossing on his face and the more he stays silent, the more you want to rage on. How can he just do this? 

 “Why aren’t you saying something?” You scream, the question tearing at your throat. Your head is spinning. You have never felt like this before. 

You feel...betrayed. 

 Your heart shatters before you can grab the pieces to salvage them.

Tobirama’s eyes are rippling with unsaid words, but they settle and they grow indifferent. “You are a criminal. I could not have your name publicized and connected to the Academy.” 

You gape at Tobirama, realization dawning on you. His suspicions, his need to keep track of you and your movements, his invasive questions to you, his constant monitoring of your abilities and what you can’t do. 

 It is all too much. 

 “After I tell you something so personal to me,” you grit your teeth and clench your fists to keep yourself from throwing him on the ground. “You use it against me in a very prejudiced way?”

 You go to a desk, and with sheer strength, you flip it over and it crashes to the floor, knocking back a few chairs. 

 Tobirama keeps silent and his expression remains stoic. His jaw tightens, and he is also clenching his fists to the point that they are shaking. 

“What is going on here?!” Hashirama interrupts, barging in through the classroom doors. 

 You try not to glare at the Hokage so you keep your eyes to the ground. 

“Nothing,” Tobirama grinds out. 

 “Your brother,” you slowly start. “Accidentally left my name out on this project you assigned to us, in which we equally worked on.” 

Hashirama’s head snaps to Tobirama, disbelief written all over his face. “Is that why you wouldn’t show me the whole thing in the beginning?" He asks his brother. 

 “You’re only in this for the money,” Tobirama says through gritted teeth, but it sounds like he is trying to convince himself. He does not even look at you when he says this. 

Your mouth drops in shock. “How dare you?!” You have never been so outrightly insulted. 

 “Tobirama, that is enough!” Hashirama interrupts. 

 “What is it to you anyway?” Tobirama demands, his face growing even more emotionless. “You’re just loud, but there really isn’t anything to you. You’re just an empty can, clanking around, making noises to get attention.” 

 Hashirama looks shocked at his brother’s words, and his eyes flit to you with concern immediately. “Tobirama!” Hashirama scolds, wanting to knock sense into his head. 

You stare at Tobirama, and then you turn away when you feel a hot tear slide down your cheek. “Wow,” you laugh to yourself. “To my naivety I thought you couldn’t get worse. On top of being a jerk, you are also quite egoistic, forget it.”

You quickly wipe the tear away, wondering why you cannot depend on your usual facade to hide your hurt away. You take a few deep breaths, and then you turn to Tobirama. 

 “Get fucked, you bastard,” you snarl, and with that, you walk away from him. “I’m glad this is the last time I’ll get to see your shitty face.” 

//

Tobirama stares at the space you just left, and he feels bereft of any feeling except regret. He tries to push it away but it weighs down on him to the point that he is bracing himself on a desk. He is an expert at controlling his emotions and yet, he cannot control the guilt that is taking over him. He feels shame over his own words and he immediately wants to chase you down and take it all back, but he plants his feet and he stares at the surface of the table he is leaning on. 

“What did you do?” Hashirama quietly asks, staring at the back of his brother’s head. 

 “Leave me alone,” Tobirama says. 

“Tobirama,” Hashirama calls his name, trying to make him talk. 

 “I said, leave me alone!” Tobirama slams his palms on the table. 

“Tobirama, you are acting like a child,” Hashirama scolds, the warmth from his voice undetectable. “I suggest you get it together.” 

 “Or else?” Tobirama retorts, feeling risky today. His brother can be scary when he is angry, and he deserves to receive his brother’s wrath. 

Hashirama grabs his arm harshly, forcing his brother to look at him. “Why did you do that?” 

Tobirama grits his teeth and he does not look his brother in the eye. 

 “Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

Tobirama takes his arm away and he starts to pace in the classroom. “Do you really want to know why?” 

 “Yes. Why?” 

 “Because if her name gets out in public and it is associated with mine, not only will that put a target on her back, she will also get my enemies on top of hers!” Tobirama shouts, his voice almost cracking from his outburst. 

Hashirama stares at his brother, processing what he just said. “What?” He breathes out. “It’s not because you know about her past or you're being your judgemental self?” 

 “No! I don’t care about that! How could you make her work with me?” Tobirama grows quiet, and he takes his hand and covers his forehead with his palm. “How could you just dump that on me...just how?!” He suddenly bursts out. "She is unbearable!"

Hashirama suddenly understands where his brother is coming from. “You should have just talked to her.” 

 Tobirama glances at the door. “Yeah, well. You could have warned me, elder brother.” 

 “Then would you have worked with her in the first place?” Hashirama asks. 

 “No,” Tobirama scowls. 

 Hashirama raises an eyebrow. “Exactly.” 

Tobirama falls silent, and his forehead creases. 

 “And I am also her Hokage. I can’t be giving out her secrets without her permission,” Hashirama adds, his voice gentle this time. “You should have told her because she is going away for a mission today.” 

Tobirama’s head snaps at this and he bounds for the door immediately, but his brother stops him. 

 “Leave her be and give her space,” Hashirama advises. “She will be back.” 

 Tobirama shakes his head, but he does not want to impose on you anymore. He leans back into the edge of a table and he folds his arms together. 

 “She is not who you think she is,” Hashirama tells Tobirama. 

 “I know,” Tobirama quietly says, staring at one spot on the floor. 

 “Tobirama, you are one hell of a fool,” Hashirama continues to scold. 

Tobirama glances up at his brother. and he grits his teeth “Stop it, elder brother, I am aware of what I did.” 

He continues to glare daggers on the spot on the floor, and although he is trying to push his guilt away like he is used to doing, it does not abate and it hangs over his head like a kind of condemnation. 

 He really drove you away, and so easily. 

//

“Took you long enough,” the woman with the brown eyes–Hina, you remember from the day she attempted to stab you–says, peeling herself away from the shadows of the trees. “We have a deadline to meet.” 

 “I had some men problems,” you roll your eyes and you keep walking. “Let’s go.” 

 “I’m surprised you even want to tag along, you had a good life in there,” Hina says, matching your quick strides. “And why don’t you just kill him? It’d save you time.”

 “How many times do I have to repeat that–”

 “Yeah, yeah, you don’t do that anymore,” Hina finishes and she gives you an unimpressed look. “Why did you even stop? I don’t understand.”

“I changed my mind, that’s it,” you lie. 

 “You felt guilty,” Hina surmises. “You never come back from killing, you know.” 

 You raise a shoulder to shrug, too angry to elaborate or to come up with a smart comeback. “Sure.” 

Hina unsheathes her knife and she flips it over in her hand. “Don’t give me that.” 

 “Why? I don’t even know you. You tried to kill me, remember?” 

 “Yeah, but now, we are working together.”

You sigh. You are tired of teamwork. It has not served you in any way that benefits you. 

 “I promise I won’t kill you,” Hina says, and she uncovers her hood from her head. Reddish brown hair falls down her shoulders and strands fall over her eyes. “Your turn to promise the same thing.”

You roll your eyes. “I promise,” you obnoxiously exclaim, not really meaning it. “Now, shut up and let’s go.” 

 You keep your eyes forward, using this newfound anger in you to not spare the village another glance.

//

Two years later…

Tobirama’s nephews push him to take them to the new meat restaurant that just recently opened up. He sighs, but he gives in since he got off work early and they came all the way to fetch him anyway. He watches them fondly as they fight and jostle each other as they walk, and he lets his mind wander about his latest research and the new jutsus that he just came up with. His brother did not approve of some, forcing him to seal them away and storing them in a more secured place. This is becoming a pattern between the two of them, and at times, Tobirama thinks that every jutsu he comes up with is dangerous to his brother. 

 He cannot blame him, though. Tobirama has been obsessing over his experiments more than usual because there are no more fights to go to. He has made a habit of picking up his pen over his sword. 

 He has kept himself busy, especially now that other Hidden villages are trying to model right after them. His brother sends him to many diplomatic missions to make allies, establish trade and commerce with nearby lands to make sure that Konoha is flourishing and growing. He also participates more in political games to gain resources and to learn of the newest technology. On top of his duties of being the Hokage’s advisor, he is also a teacher and he makes sure that his students are progressing in their careers as shinobi by taking them to espionage missions or bringing them to other lands to protect people and help out wherever they can. 

 He pushes them, and in turn, he also pushes himself to evolve more. He has a routine that he prides himself on following when he is well enough, but he breaks them occasionally when he is rendered inaccessible due to his bouts of manic passion, where he gets all of his work and thinking done all by himself. Hashirama warns him about self-preservation and reminds him of his many self-inflicted accidents, but Tobirama is not one to worry about himself when he is so close to accomplishing a new feat. 

 He is unstoppable when he is in his element.  

And in his most vulnerable moments, when he feels like the weight of his responsibilities are too much (something he will never ever admit because he is a very proud man who loves what he does), his mind goes to you without his consent. He tries not to think about you at all, but his inhibitions fail him in the worst of times and his worries for you escape his most guarded parts of his mind and to the forefront of his thinking. He does not have feelings of contempt over the fact that this is how he is now, but you are gone. There is no point of fighting himself over feelings that will fade in time. Tobirama hopes they do fade in time. 

 He has more important matters to attend to. He has lives to look after and take care of. He cannot afford to entertain his sorry feelings. 

 He is also a shinobi. He trained all his life to set aside personal afflictions for the sake of the bigger picture. He cannot fail himself and his ways. 

 He has all the time to keep convincing himself that this is how it should be for him. 

His many nephews push open the door to the new restaurant, and Tobirama follows after them, warning them to calm down. 

 Sometimes, having their father’s exuberance has its disadvantages. 

 Tobirama naturally looks around the restaurant, observing the decorations: the traditional paintings of landscapes hanging on the wall and the small, makeshift fountain in the corner, where tiny fishes are swimming, the way the tables and booths are arranged. Then, his heart stops when his gaze lands on the familiar shape of your head. You are seated by the counter, quietly munching on your meal like you have not eaten in days. Your weapons lie on the next chair beside you, and there is a knapsack by your feet. 

 Tobirama cannot help but marvel at you, and he thinks that he is seeing a ghost because you have been gone for so long. He never thought that he would see you again. 

 Even in his fair share of travels, he attempts to look for you, and each time, he comes up with nothing and he is nowhere near where you are. He knows his thoughts are becoming more absurd by the moment, but he cannot help but stare at you. He notices that your skin is darker, probably from long exposure from the sun, and there are new healed scars on your arms that he never saw before, but most of all, you are alive. 

 He has spent so many months wondering if you are safe, that seeing you here is a relief, like a breath that he has been holding so damn long. Tobirama does not know what to say. He couldn’t just go there and sit himself near you and start a conversation, not after what he pulled. 

 He deserves your silence. He deserves nothing from you. 

 What would he even say in the first place? 

 That when he no longer hears your vindictive laugh coming after him, when your loud presence and your insulting demeanor are no longer terrorizing him, he has the urge to seek you out. 

 That despite the fact that he should no longer be thinking of you and what he did to you, he still does, and he does it obsessively, as if taking apart that moment can piece him another result that will not end in you leaving. 

Tobirama feels sick as he slides into the booth with his nephews. He is glad that the booth hides him from view, but if he really tries to turn his body, he can easily spot you. 

 Someone comes to serve them, and Tobirama waits for his turn as his nephews shout their orders out.

//

Arriving just a few hours ago, you hear about a new restaurant that has opened in Konoha. You take your time to get there, observing the new things that are happening in the village. The place has changed a lot in two years, and it seems like the place has also grown in population. You try not to wonder about one of the people leading this village who definitely had a big role in encouraging Konoha to grow this strong, but your mind fails you because the Senju clan’s influence is tangible in the air. The people clearly worship their Hokage, because you hear songs in the streets dedicated to Hashirama and poems being recited to tell his feats in battle and in building this village. Naturally, word outside the village travels fast when it comes to the formidable Senju brothers. 

 You hear that Tobirama has grown into a bigger role of politicking, and you speculate that he prefers to work in the background and have his brother in the spotlight because you do not hear songs or poems about him, or see colorful painted portraits of him being sold in the markets of Konoha. 

 Again, you try not to think about him, but his absence in the corners of the streets you pass by just pushes your mind to fill in the gaps with him. 

 Time away from Tobirama did not foster your distaste for him. Instead, you are filled with questions. You want to understand where he is coming from. You want to understand his intentions. You have always known based on your instincts and expertise of reading people that he is the type to lay his life down for this village and his elder brother, that his heart is dedicated to a cause bigger than him. You know deep in your heart, he is a good man, so you want him to talk and explain why he decided to exclude your name from the credit of participating in creating the Academy’s curriculum. 

 Despite his harsh words, he did only speak of the truth. It made sense, though it does not excuse the fact that he hurt you and actively chose to do that. 

 He should have talked. 

 You are disappointed in him, because you know that he can do better. You have seen him be better than that. 

 Your only regret is that you have let your anger blind you for the first time. You are usually pretty good at keeping your cool, but suddenly, when it comes to Tobirama, your feelings become heightened for no damn reason. It’s like his face triggers you and your mouth fires off to immediately insult him and make him see and hear you. 

 You arrive at the new restaurant, and your mouth waters at the sweet and savory smell of meat cooking. It has been a while since you had a good, hearty meal and that is what you will have, before you meet with the Hokage and catch up with Madara. 

 You keep still in your seat as you wait, trying your best to not walk around and touch everything in the restaurant because it is pretty neat. A group of loud boys enter the restaurant, and you chuckle to yourself, remembering Hashirama’s cute sons, but then your food arrives and you quickly take your utensil to eat. You have been so hungry that it does not matter how others perceive you right now. 

“The bill, please,” you request once you are finished eating. 

 The waiter hands refills your glass of water. “Your bill has been paid.” 

 “What?” You say in surprise, completely puzzled. “When?”

 You clearly did not pay your bill before you ate. 

“Just a few moments ago,” the waiter replies and he leaves you to your thoughts. 

You stare at your filled glass, thinking that you got lucky today and that the restaurant is probably doing this to garner more customers. 

 You admit to yourself that what they are doing is a good strategy. 

You shrug to yourself and gather your things so that you can meet Hashirama. You have been dying to catch up with him, and most of all, you are hoping to get a glimpse of Tobirama. 

 The anger you felt towards him is gone, and it replaces with an uncomfortable feeling on your chest. 

 You ignore it, lest it blossoms into something you cannot control. 

//

Hashirama greets you with open arms, and he goes to you like an eager child and you are immediately pulled into a huge embrace. You let out a surprised laugh, and Hashirama steps back to examine you. A huge grin spreads across his features and you cannot help reflecting back his sentiments. 

“I’m here!” You exclaim. 

 “Two years, my gods,” Hashirama cries out, his hands settling on your shoulders. “You could have sent a letter.” 

 You shrug apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“No matter, no matter!” Hashirama walks back to his desk. “So? Tell me all about it.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to find the courage to retell what happened to you for the last two years. Different events flash into your mind, but you decide to start from the very beginning. Hashirama nods expectantly, encouraging you.

You leave with Hina, the woman who was sent to kill you. The two of you take the job that Nuga speaks of, which is to assassinate the leader of a growing gang towards the eastern lands, near the ocean. You had offered to help Hina so that she could make it back to her family, and then go on your way from there to offer your skills to help people. However, it did not go as planned. 

  The gang has controlled the growing ports near the ocean, signifying their growing power. As the two of you infiltrate the living quarters of the leader, swarms of his subordinates flood the hallways and the two of you become surrounded. With no way to go and no hope of accomplishing this job, you and Hina decide to fight your way out. 

  And in the heat of the battle, Hina gets injured. 

  You wade through countless bodies, one arm defending the two of you and the other half-carrying Hina. Blood sprays in the air, and your vision is painted red, but you keep going. You have no choice if you want to live. You try not to aim at the most vulnerable spots, and instead, you aim low at their legs or choose to slam the flat of your blade against their heads and swoop them off their feet. You are not free of injuries either, as you feel the debilitating stings of the blade slicing against your arm and your side. 

  “I’m sorry,” Hina whispers as the two of you leave a wake of injured men behind you. 

  You trudge ahead, not wasting time to put a huge distance between you and the gang of men. 

“Hina,” you tell her. “You better not die on me.” 

  Hina murmurs your name with a smile. “To fight with you is an honor, Y/n.” 

  You glance at the woman leaning heavily on your shoulder. Half of her body is completely soaked in blood. “Don’t say that. What happened to referring to me as the Man-Killer?” 

  “My family lives in the forest at the very south of the Earth country,” Hina says, her voice becoming weaker and weaker. “Please protect them and help them get through the winter.” 

  “Hina,” you say. “Don’t tell me this.” 

  “You’re just human, you know. You don’t deserve every bad thing out there.”

  “Hina,” you plead. “Shut up.” 

  “Sorry for your arm…” Hina murmurs.

The buzz of energy you feel that makes your blood pump leaves you, making you feel sluggish. Hina is now leaning her weight on you fully, and you know that the two of you cannot travel far like this, so you settle her down against a tree and you check her injuries. 

  Blood covers your hands like a pair of gloves, but you do not shrink away in fear or disgust. You do your best to take care of Hina, refusing to look her in the face. The moonlight shines between the spaces of the trees, illuminating her pale skin and her blood-soaked clothes. 

“Hina,” you whisper fearfully. 

  You do not get another response. 

You fall to your ass on the ground, feeling defeated. You rest your elbows on your knees, and you stare at Hina, feeling empty. After a minute, you make yourself reach for Hina’s hand, and you hold it, until the warmth from her body fades away. You let her know, as she leaves her body, that you are there for her and that she was not alone. 

  Then, before the sun rises, you do your best to clean her up, wiping away the blood from her face and arms, and you cover her with your own garment. You make her a grave, even though your body is tired and in pain. 

  When morning comes, you have her knife strapped with your swords, and you head towards the direction of her home. 

--

The trip takes almost two months, and in those months, you practice travelling through trees using your chakra to propel yourself from one branch to the next. You get tired, and you require long rests, but towards the end, you feel yourself getting stronger and more aware of your power. You pass many towns, luscious forests and dry deserts until you are in another country, taking extra care to watch your back. 

  It takes another two weeks until you find Hina’s family, and you find them in the old Hina fashion, with one of her siblings sticking a knife on your back. You disarm her younger brother easily enough, but the youngest sibling is on a tree branch above you, aiming an arrow to your head. 

“I come in peace,” you announce, immediately raising your hands and dropping the boy’s knife. “Hina sent me.”

  “Where is our sister?” 

  “I have her knife. She died from a job,” you tell them. 

  The girl glares at you. “Did the famed ningen satsujin-sha get her?”

You swallow nervously. “No.” The guilt swallows you, even though your hand did not strike her down.

  “Are you her friend?” 

  You try to think if the short time you spend with Hina can be called friendship. “No.” You decide.

The girl fires her arrow, and you quickly dodge it. You glance back to see where the arrow hits and you narrow your eyes. If you were a little slower, she could have gotten your eye. 

“Good shot,” you compliment. “Your sister told me to help you for the coming winter. You do not need to trust me, but I can help you. Her last words were focused on you.” 

  The girl eyes you suspiciously, and despite the grim situation, you break out into an uneasy grin. The shape of her face reminds you of Hina. 

“I promise I’ll get out of your hair soon enough. I just want to make good on my promise to Hina. I am of your service for as long as you see fit.” 

--

You end up staying with them for a year and a half. You help Hina’s family with hunting and house repairs. When the hunting is fruitful, you help the kids barter for money and other goods through skinned fur and meat that will help them prepare for the seasons. You also teach the kids how to fight, just in case they need to defend themselves. You help chop down firewood and you also fashion two bokkens for Hina’s siblings, and you promise to teach them swordfighting during the summer.

  Through Hina’s family, you learn a thing or two about forgiveness and compassion. 

  Hina’s parents hated you the moment they saw you. They blame you for their daughter’s death. Harsh words usually bounce off of you and in fact, you feed on harsh words because you have an arsenal of your own. Though this time, you choose to ignore their harsh words and practice your tact. Though there are other places you could be, you choose to plant your feet and follow Hina's dying wishes, and that means ensuring that they can live through the fast-approaching winter. 

When the harsh winter passes, Hina’s mother gives you a scarf and serves you a bowl of hot soup. Hina’s father offers you their couch to crash on and asks if you could stay with them a bit longer, and look out for their kids. 

  You could be in other places to pursue your own salvation, but instead, you choose Hina’s family to make it right with. 

  After the next winter and spring, you leave them, and you head towards Konoha, towards home. 

  You were not able to erase the bounty over your head, but helping Hina’s family, that finally felt like atonement. It finally felt like your actions are starting to mean more than just fighting and looking out for your own life. 

  You did not get all the answers you are looking for, but for now, you feel like you are finally on the right track. 

You take a deep breath, and look the Hokage in his eyes. It is completely nightfall, and Hashirama has lit a few candles to make the room brighter. You observe his misty eyes and you chuckle to yourself, because despite your absence, nothing has changed. 

 “I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through,” Hashirama begins, but he does not say anything more, letting a pregnant silence dawn between the two of you. 

“You do not have to worry about the bounty over your head,” Hashirama finally says as he settles on his chair again. 

 Your gaze snaps to Hashirama’s face, on full alert. 

“How come?” 

 Hashirama smiles, and he looks giddy. “My brother pleaded for your case and did some negotiations while you were gone. It is erased. You are free.”

Your jaw drops open in shock. “What?” 

 Hashirama smiles softly. “You know he feels really bad for what he did to you.” 

 “I knew it,” you whisper in disbelief. 

Hashirama sighs and he taps his chin. “I know you might hate him, and I am not excusing what he did! He is wrong for that. He is so wrong.”

 You chuckle and you let out an exasperated sigh. 

 “My brother and I have countless enemies,” Hashirama explains and he meets your eyes seriously. “You have your own burden to carry and he did not want to add any more by associating your name with his. He wants you to be free and not be tied down by the village to do what you need to do.” 

 The urge to look for Tobirama and punch him grows stronger. You have forgiven him long ago, but Tobirama seems to have forgotten that communication exists. If he just told you this in the first place, then you wouldn’t have spent the last two years cursing his name in your mind and making you think that he is a horrible person. 

“Well, I do hope that you catch him soon so that the two of you can talk,” Hashirama emphasizes the last word. “Knowing my brother, it will take years for him to admit anything true to himself, but he is kind, I can promise you that.” 

You let out a laugh, and warmth spreads across your chest. You shake your head with disbelief, and the excitement you feel makes you want to run through the streets of Konoha in joy. 

“I will let him know that you are back,” Hashirama promises. He smiles fondly at you. “And Madara has been waiting for your return.”

 The mention of your friend makes you start for the door. You can hardly wait to see Madara again. It has been too long. You think you may start crying just thinking of him. 

“Lord Hashirama, thank you,” you tell the Hokage sincerely, with all of your heart. 

You mean it, and with the bounty lifted and your heart set on the right path, you feel like you have taken a breath of fresh air. You can finally make your new start here, in Konohagakure.

 You are free. 

.

.

.

[CHAPTER ELEVEN >>>]

[mythicamagic]

“bite your lip once more, i dare you”

AN: Woop! This long detour has finally ended! Read the complete fic - here.

Warning: Some smut

---

It was with embarrassment that she bowed and apologised to the patrons and staff outside. Soon enough though, a steady arm around her waist steered her away from their disgruntled faces, Sesshoumaru leading her around a street corner.

"I should really go back and apologise once more..."

"Hn, I sense their moods will not be better improved by it, miko," amusement coloured his tone. His eyes found her in the dark. "What exactly were you doing? Other than...flexing."

Kagome fiddled with her fingers, missing his arm around her the second he released her. "I got tired of keeping a lid on things, I guess. Did they know who you were, in there?"

"Mn, seems so."

"No one knows who I am," she muttered, hugging her arms loosely. "And I haven't been honest with any of them. Not one demon boyfriend. I never showed them my true self, so I just thought, maybe I could start tonight. And instead..." she sighed. "I just made my problem their problem. I better go apologise-"

"I know who you are, Kagome."

The glow in his eyes was unmistakable, stopping her.

Sesshoumaru inclined his head, "and there is no need to express regret over announcing it so loudly. It is something I would have done, a long time ago. Those with power can afford to stomp their feet, just a little."

Kagome looked at him, searching his face for any hint of the overworked person she'd seen at the park. Reaching up, she brushed careful fingers over his striped cheek, mindful of the slight burns.

"I hurt you…"

A large hand ensnared her wrist, thin lips meeting lithe fingers in a lingering kiss.

"They will heal quickly. I am merely out of practice with handling reiki."

Kagome swallowed, tears stinging her eyes at the unexpectedly gentle contact. She glanced away, voice hushed. She couldn't contain what she'd seen a moment longer. "I saw your children."

Sesshoumaru's grip tightened, his form becoming tense. "The kit-" he sneered, flashing sharp teeth.

"He was just trying to help. I… saw them at the park," she murmured, fingers curling to touch his hand, prompting him to release her.

Kagome stepped back, searching his guarded, watchful expression. Slowly, the confident, easy facade he wore melted away, leaving behind a weary near immortal. Sesshoumaru swept the length of his silver hair back over one shoulder, sinking down to his knees.

Blue eyes flew wide.

"W-what are you doing?"

Sesshoumaru bowed his head- forehead descending. Kagome quickly gripped at broad shoulders madly, nails biting in. "Stop! You don't have to!-"

A crescent moon pressed to the dirty street floor as Sesshoumaru remained in a deep bow, large body hunched over. No matter how much she pulled and yanked at him to rise, ugly emotions clogging her throat, he would not budge.

"This Sesshoumaru apologises."

Hot tears leaked down her cheeks as the once cripplingly regal demon lifted his head, catching her gaze. "It occurs to me now...perhaps I should have started with this," thin lips crumpled into a jaded smile. "I cannot claim to be very good at humility. Even after all this time."

Kagome smiled sadly, reaching out and brushing gentle fingers over him, wiping away the mud marring his blue moon sitting proudly upon his forehead.

"My apology comes too late," he uttered, resting clenched fists upon his knees. "There is no Western territory in Japan that I own anymore. I am not a lord."

"How'd that happen?" she mumbled.

"I became disillusioned."

Kagome shifted, seeing the lines that he'd tried to conceal before that cut beneath his eyes. He seemed tired, even more jaded and weary than she. "I was naive," he uttered. "So set in my convictions. After losing you, I tried to convince myself it was for the best. We were an ill-suited pair, that sort of thing. I even approached my Mother, seeking vindication from her. She...who had taught me from a young age, instilled in me the value of our special blood and heritage."

Sesshoumaru chuckled, golden eyes dimming in the moonlight. "It was she who looked at me after I explained everything about our breakup and said, 'why did you do a stupid thing like that? Foolish pup.'"

She bit her lip, knowing how rattling that must've been. He'd explained to her before about the necessity of his role. He'd been the perfect heir by design. The Killing Perfection.

"It had not occurred to me she could change. That I could change. That blood and suitability were just abstract concepts, and in the end did not matter. The realisation came too late. You were...gone," Sesshoumaru looked at her soberly, as though waiting for the verdict of his trial.

Kagome hated the idea of him awaiting judgement, gripping his shoulders again.

"... Let's go back to my place," she said softly. It was there in her tone, living and breathing within soft blue eyes. Forgiveness wasn't clear cut or easy. She still hurt. But...she couldn't let him pass by without at least trying to see if they could last this time.

Helping to guide him up back to his feet, a thought occurred to her. "Unless- do you need to go home?"

"No," he said sharply, eyes wide, as though fearing that the offer would never come again. He relaxed his features, "no, my eldest can watch over the young ones."

Kagome nodded. On impulse, she took his hand and began walking down the street.

Sesshoumaru kept pace with her, long fingers frozen, slack in her hold. Soon they twitched, wrapping tightly around her own.

---

Stepping into her humble apartment silently, with the shadows thick and moonlight pouring in from behind them, having guided their steps- Kagome paused in the dimly lit hallway.

Sesshoumaru stood still in his usual way, so watchful and quiet, having not donned a glamour. Long silver hair tumbled down his shoulders.

Kagome's fingers reached up and buried in it, moving herself up on tiptoe.

Lips crashed, bodies meeting- his back thudding against the wall as she shoved and pressed herself against him hungrily.

There was nothing gentle about it. Hips met and pressed demandingly against one another, clawed hands hooking under her thighs, dragging Kagome up the toned length of his body, allowing her to squeeze them around his waist.

Teeth knocked, noses bumping. Sesshoumaru's tongue forced itself past her lips. He kissed her for so long- too long, indulging in the hot cavern of her mouth. Kagome's blunt nails dragged over his scalp, swallowing his answering hiss and canting her hips.

Inside. Please. I want you inside.

Sesshoumaru pulled away to press sloppy, hungry kisses over the length of her throat, sucking at her neck with a low, possessive growl. Kagome reached for his belt, loosening it hurriedly- finding his hard length ready against her thigh. Yet still he was content to tease, nipping at the sensitive skin of her collarbone. Kagome climbed down in frustration- only to yank and pull at his clothes, discarding them in their clumsy attempt to reach the bedroom.

They made it to her small living room, collapsing to the floor. It would do.

After 506 years, give or take a few- neither had envisioned it to happen on her pastel red rug. Surely a nice fancy hotel room, or at least a huge, plush bed-

Kagome straddled his waist, lavishing attention on his pointed ear with her lips while fiddling with her dress. Pulling it up over her head, she growled as it got stuck halfway, obscuring her vision.

Sesshoumaru took advantage of this, capturing a hardened nipple in his mouth and holding her arched back as she gasped, sighing breathily.

It wasn't until their underwear was shoved down, a condom hastily grabbed and a clawed thumb over her clit, circling it- did they find each other's eyes again.

Kagome stopped, panting.

His face was flushed, hair dishevelled. A bite mark had begun bruising his thoroughly kissed lower lip.

Sesshoumaru caught his breath, staring at her, unblinking. Slowly, Kagome gripped his shoulders, guiding herself down just as he held onto her hips. The head of his twitching, achingly familiar cock nudged inside slick folds, before surging deeper with a hard jolt. Kagome cried out and buried her face in his neck.

Sesshoumaru pressed his nose into dark curling hair, wrapping her up in a tight embrace, skin to skin. He cradled the back of her head, everything stopping for a long while.

They held each other without speaking a word, rendered mute, overcome with finally being connected again. Kagome shuddered, clenching her inner walls tight, as though luring him deeper, forbidding him to never part. She'd keep him locked inside her forever if possible. His body felt so warm and nostalgic, plastered against her own. She nuzzled and breathed in his good smell, sighing against heated skin.

A horrible thought whispered in her ear; It was all so breakable. He could ruin her again. With just a few words, he could undo years of progress.

But now Kagome understood it was the same for him. She could dismiss him tomorrow morning and break him too. Hurt him. Hurt the untouchable demon lord who had broken her heart.

Kagome cupped his cheek, lifting her head to brush an ardent kiss over his jaw.

"I missed you," she said instead. Because it was the truth. Nothing could compel her to willingly hurt someone she loved.

"I have…" he whispered, kissing her closed eyelids, "dreamed of you for centuries," starving lips pressed to her neck, "'missing you' is an understatement."

Kagome gave a broken laugh, saddened. "We're so stupid. We've wasted so much time."

"I wasted so much time," he uttered grimly. "But...perhaps it was not wasted time if it brought us here, eventually. Together."

"We've both made mistakes, let's leave it at that." Resting her forehead against his for a moment and inhaling his exhale, Kagome kissed him tenderly before beginning to move.

---

Laying nestled into a sprawled out Daiyoukai's side with her face pressed snugly against his chest wasn't a terrible way to wake up. Kagome stretched slowly, making a soft noise. She planted a few kisses over his ribs, palm splaying over his abdomen and grazing along the length of his exotically striped body. It lay littered with a few scars that hadn't been there before, new to her. Kagome kissed those too, wondering about their stories.

A velvety chuckle soaked with sleep escaped him. "Minx, you are aware that our late night activities will continue if you persist?"

"Maybe that's my goal."

Sesshoumaru sighed, stroking a lazy, affectionate hand through her dark rumpled hair. "I see your appetite has not diminished."

"If anything, I think it might've gotten worse," blue eyes danced as she bit her lip. "It's your fault, you started it."

"Hn, this one takes full blame," he rumbled, touch shifting to her mouth, sharp nail gliding over her it. "Bite your lip once more, I dare you."

Kagome flushed red- and she'd forgotten she could still blush right down to her toes. She bit her lip, hard.

Sesshoumaru flipped her over and muffled her giggles in the bedding as his lips found her neck and hands wandered all over again.

After thoroughly rememorising each other's bodies, they finally located her bed.

Shifting beneath the covers together, Kagome slung a leg over his hip. Sesshoumaru rested a hand over the back of her thigh under her ass, stroking. Basking in the afterglow, she began asking him about his life.

"How come you adopted so many kids over the years? Hanyous too," the topic soon came up.

"I did not do it for any particular reason. They were abandoned, much like Rin. Whenever I happened upon them, they took to following me in a similar manner. However..." his lips thinned, gaze dimming as it stared at the ceiling. "The first Hanyou that followed me was persecuted quite badly at my Stronghold. I did not intend to feel as much as I did about it. She was deemed 'mine' and so I felt outraged on her account. I experienced protectiveness for her, even if I did not recognise it at the time."

"Change happens slowly," Kagome hummed, shifting to lay atop his chest, their stomachs meeting as she rested her chin on her arms. "Did she marry a demon to extend her lifespan?"

"No, she died of old age, much like Rin."

"I'm sorry."

"Do not be, Erika chose her own spouse and lived as she wished. There is no sadness in that," golden eyes slid shut as she stroked his bangs, combing them back briefly from his handsome face. "There is only sadness when children are taken too early," his tone became wooden, dim.

Her heart squeezed in her chest. "Shippo...said there was a reason you didn't come for me during those 6 years. What happened?"

"I thought it wise to wait since you were experiencing heartbreak. My appearance would have made matters worse," Sesshoumaru's eyes peeled open, hazed with remembrance. "On top of which, one of my children could not be moved from his facility."

"Facility?"

He did not answer.

"...Can I meet him now?"

Sesshoumaru gazed out of her brightening window unseeingly. "If I could stop myself from taking in one species again, it would be humans," the words came softly, like a secret. "You always die much too quickly," he uttered, golden eyes sliding to her heavily. "Ruka was terminally ill."

"D-did you adopt him knowing that?"

"It makes no difference to me," he said a tad bitterly. "Whether they last five years or seventy, it is always too short a time," passing a heavy hand over his eyes, Sesshoumaru let it linger there. "Tenseiga brought him back, briefly. But not long enough. Never long enough."

The depth of his grief felt staggering. Kagome could see it, hidden away in all the corners of his face that he tried to hide behind a placid mask.

"Come here."

Sesshoumaru arched a brow. She persisted, leaning back into the pillows beside him and beckoning the demon closer with arms open wide and inviting. He was not one to refuse such a thing, soon resting a striped cheek directly over her heart. It thudded loudly, quick as a rabbit beneath his ear.

"I have not changed my opinions on some things, miko," he said in a dour, soft tone. "You humans are weak. I curse your weakness- and loathe every mortal child I take in for it. They are so fleeting. Every time they came to be in my care, I promised myself no more. Never again. Surely someone as great as I can have the self-discipline not to heed their cries should I hear them, nor follow the scent of their tears. Surely I do not need a pack so badly."

She could tell his conviction to stop caring for them wasn't working out too well, considering the group she'd seen at the park. He would love human children again, and continue to love and take care of them in an endless cycle of happiness and grief. Such was the way of an immortal guardian.

Kagome bent down, kissing the crown of his head. "You've given them a home. Even if it was fleeting to you, it was a lifetime of happiness for them."

Kagome couldn't see his expression anymore but felt Sesshoumaru's grip on her elbow, tight. His thumb dragged slowly, reverently. Heavy breathing shook, beginning to calm as she soothed his rippling youki.

"I'll look after you for now," she muttered, petting silky silver hair and massaging his scalp. "I can't do it all the time. Sometimes you'll have to take care of me, but we can take it in turns. So you can tell me...if you ever need to get those thoughts out again."

Sesshoumaru made a noise of affirmation, lulled by her gentle ministrations. After a while she figured he'd fallen asleep before he asked;

"Do you think you will desire to adopt, in the future? Raising them alongside our biological children is certainly possible."

Her mouth grew dry, hands freezing. Kagome drew in a shaky breath, vision going blurry with damn tears again. She stubbornly held them back, giving a laugh as she squeezed his shoulder.

"That's a tad presumptuous, isn't it? We haven't even said we're dating yet."

"You just said you'd take care of me, duplicitous woman."

"Yeah, because you're a tired old dog who needs a break," she teased, giggling as he huffed and transformed with a burst of youki, collapsing dead weight atop her in a smaller version of his true form. Wheezing, Kagome whined and wrapped her arms around him, stroking fluffy silver fur.

As she caressed along his muzzle, tired crimson eyes slide shut in a display of utter trust and peace, causing her to smile and kiss his wet nose.

---

They did things carefully after that explosive night, gradually easing into things. It was a couple of months before Kagome was introduced to everyone, not wanting to shatter that which had become so precious to them.

"Come on, come on. We have the place to ourselves for an hour, so go wherever you like," Kagome smiled, spreading her arms wide within the museum, voice echoing.

"It is not as though you needed to arrange for a private tour, you could have just showed us around during your normal working hours," Hiroji observed as most of the other children ran around.

"Ach, but I wanted to do something special..." she put a hand to her heart, pretending to be wounded.

"Hiroji, you're so bad with women!" one of the Hanyou's piped up.

"Bad with women!" echoed the other.

The snake demon grit his teeth sourly, while Kagome giggled and picked up the leopard Hanyou and accepting a nuzzle, gazing at their spots with affection. "I'm teasing. It's just nice to let everyone wander around in the open without glamours sometimes, right?"

"Won't the security cameras see us?"

"We have a face-painting section in the stone age area. Totally explainable," she leaned against Sesshoumaru's side as he wrapped an arm around her waist, markings on full display.

Golden eyes smiled, "and if that is not a suitable excuse- we're a Yakuza family with many colourful tattoos."

Akiko giggled, "that sounds cool!"

"I think a family of demons would be easier to accept," Hiroji grumbled, glancing in Shinto's general direction, who lingered away from everyone else anxiously.

In the snake demon's minds eye, he could see the shape of a powerful reiki source approach his brother. Kagome bent down into a crouch, getting on eye-level with him.

"It's okay, Shinto," she said gently. "You know, they have an interactive computer section in here on the Edo Period."

He brightened slightly. "They...do?"

"Mhm, come on. I'll show you," Kagome gestured, catching Sesshoumaru's eye in passing.

His expression softened, morphing into something she could recognise now. Trust in. They'd probably keep making mistakes, but so long as they weren't quite so costly as before, she felt as though they could weather the storms now. Kagome gentled and returned his smile, grabbing his hand as they entered the Edo section.

His children gasped and pointed at the display case of his armour. "Papa, this was yours!"

"I am aware," Sesshoumaru rumbled with amusement, taking his lips to Kagome's ear. "Do you miss wearing the hankimono to bed?"

She shivered, "maybe a little. They were comfy pyjamas," blue eyes caught the mischievous look skittering across his face. "Oh no you don't- Sesshoumaru! Don't you dare steal them! You donated them to this museum!"

"Technically they were mine first so I would merely be taking them back," he chuckled. "Never fear, dear one," he purred, tossing his head regally. "A bit of thievery is a minor feat for a Yakuza family, and the matter is especially pressing when it concerns comfy sleepwear."

Kagome groaned, burying her face in her hands and hiding another smile. She had centuries more of this to endure.

End

[artistic-writer]

The Contract :: CS Omegaverse :: Ch 14 :: Rated E

Title: The Contract

Rating: E

Summary: Emma had never wanted much in her life, despite being married to one of the richest men in the world. For ten years she has felt like a prisoner in her own marriage, denied the one thing she wants the most, but her husband cannot help but bargain her want like a cheap business deal.  Enter Killian Jones, the Alpha her husband has hired to make sure she gets what she wants. And then some.

Chapters: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] - [11] - [12] - [13]

AO3 - Ko-Fi (100% of coffee’s bought go towards buying @adognamedkillian toys and treats!)

A/N: Here lies the final chapter of this fic that has taken me far too long to write. I am sorry, but you know, 2020.  Thank you to all my lovely beta bitches; @hollyethecurious my person, my heart, my bestie. I you person. @shardminds my fellow angel <3 @courtorderedcake @zaharadessert @thisonesatellite for lurking and encouraging and ALL THE LOVELY LADIES IN THE DISCORD <3

Artwork by me, @artistic-writer

This is an Omegaverse fic featuring A/B/O dynamics.  Whilst this varies from fandom to fandom, for the purposes of my fic, there will be no mpreg.  Just so you know.  There will however be knotting, breeding, heats and other delicious things that come along with A/B/O.  If you do not know what A/B/O is, feel free to message me :)

If you wish to stay away from this fic, blacklist the A/B/O tag.

Taglist: @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @hollyethecurious​​ @kmomof4​​ @hookedonapirate​​ @winterbaby89​​ @courtorderedcake​​  @cocohook38​​ @branlovesouat @teamhook​​ @snidgetsafan​​ @shireness-says​​ @wingedlioness​​  @therooksshiningknight @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @bmbbcs4evr @blowmiakisscolin​​ @deathbycaptainswan​​ @onceuponaprincessworld​​ @chinawoodfan  @seriouslyhooked​​ @snowbellewells​​ @wordsmith-storyweaver​​ @jennjenn615​​ @delightfully-difficult-pirate​​ @doodlelolly0910​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @hookedmom​​ @thejollyroger-writer​​ @rachie1940​​ @unworried-corsair​​ @cs-forlife @notoriouscs​​ @killian-whump​​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​​ @mariakov81​ @strangestarlighttree​ @shardminds​ @donteattheappleshook​ @thisonesatellite​​ @carpedzem​​ @lfh1226-linda @strawberryfieldsbricksonwalls​​ @itsfabianadocarmo​​ @stahlop​​  @elizabeethan​ @reggieshamster​​ @shardminds​​ @ultraluckycatnd @jrob64​​ @swanslieutenant​​ @veryverynotgoodwrites​​ @jonesfandomfanatic​​ @tiganasummertree​  @fuckurghh

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The car journey home was a blur. The entire way Emma whispered sweet nothings into his ear as her scent surrounded them, suffocating him and making it almost impossible to keep his eyes on the road. Killian had been so engrossed in beating Graham, making sure he knew that he was nothing to them and would never hurt Emma again, that he had failed to notice the change in Emma as she watched them battle. It wasn’t until he was with her in the car, sealed in with her heady musk, that he realised that the primal Omega spirit inside of her had come alive, baited by the sight of blood and the smell of him, that he realised her intentions.

Emma was leaning over to him having ducked under the body strap of her seat belt, and was rubbing her eager hands over his thigh, gently scraping her nails over the material of his pants and making him shiver. Killian sucked in a quick breath but it felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen left in the car to oxymoronically put out the fire in his lungs, but he was quickly distracted from the pain in his chest when Emma softly, but forcefully, pushed on the growing bulge between his legs, a wry smile on her lips that he only managed to see for a second before his eyes fluttered closed.

He felt Emma’s hand on the steering wheel next to his, helping to keep the car on course whilst her other one massaged his cock, making him hard in seconds. Blood surged around his body, making him lightheaded and he eased his foot off the accelerator pedal, unable to even comprehend his own name, let alone tell how fast he was driving. He heard Emma laugh, her breath hot and wet against its shell as she purred into his ear, her fingers clutching the girth of his erection through his pants, her touch like a both a gift and a curse for his cock which strained painfully to be free.

“I want this,” she whispered darkly. Her fingers grabbed at the zipper of his fly, slowly and deliberately sliding it down, the sound of each tooth coming apart from its twin deafening him.

“Fuck, Emma,” Killian panted, lifting his hips off the seat in an attempt to relieve his aching cock.

“Omega,” she purred sweetly, sliding her hand into his pants through the now open zipper and past his underwear. She traced a single finger over his balls, loving the way they shrunk under her touch and the skin pulling tight around them. She continued her assault, dragging her finger over the skin covering the bulb of his knot and grinned wickedly when she felt his cock twitch and his chest expand with another huge breath. “Use my title,” she cooed, mirroring his earlier command.

Killian was so aroused by her words that he almost didn’t see the light they were approaching turn red, slamming his foot on the brake and the car skidding to a stop just over the line. He heaved a breath, his knuckles aching from how hard he was gripping the wheel, the strain of his erection only momentarily soothed from her assault by the fact her hand shot out to brace herself against the dashboard.

“You need to stop,” Killian ground out, trying to blink his vision clear.

“Why?” Emma whimpered innocently, cuddling back into him and resuming her caresses.

Killian looked over at her and gave her a dark stare, a warning glance that just made her grin even more slyly. “Because you and I both know I can’t fuck you in this car, and the apartment is another five minutes away.”

“Who says you can’t fuck me in this car?” Emma pouted, batting her eyelashes at him as her fingers twirled around in what chest hair she could see poking from the top of his shirt.

Killian took a moment to lick his lips and could swear he could already taste her arousal on his tongue between the tang of blood and his own excess saliva. He looked at her, long and hard, the sheen of sweat on her skin catching his attention in the street light, displaying her own arousal as if she was in heat, something Killian knew to be impossible. Or maybe it wasn’t? She was a new Omega after all, recently come of age and still not entirely in control of her hormones. She was a slave to her own desire and what she wanted the most was currently trying to force its way out of its sheath into the cool air of the night from her sultry look alone.

“Omega,” Killian soothed reasonably but with a black lustre to his tone that had her audibly shuddering in the seat next to him. “We both know there isn’t enough room for me to fully enjoy you here.”

“Oh?” Emma questioned softly, her mind racing with all of the possibilities of what ‘fully enjoying her’ meant.

Pulling one of his hands from the steering wheel, Killian stroked over the shape of her skull, bunching her hair into a loose ponytail and giving it a gentle tug. Emma wrenched her head sideways, gasping with need, every cell in her body crying out for more than just a promise of his touch. Killian’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, watching her still wide pupils dilate even more as he leaned over to inhale the scent of her skin, exaggerating his action as he skimmed the tip of his nose up the side of her cheek, deliberately ghosting a sigh against her scent gland that pulsed and coaxed him closer with a wave of scent.

“I said not here,” he growled with finality.

Before Emma could explain how his words had affected her, a wave of slick had expelled itself from her body and she clenched her knees together in an attempt to relieve some of the ache that had settled there. Killian watched the light turn green and let her go like nothing had transpired between them, fixing his eyes on the road once more and setting off towards the apartment. Emma fell back into her seat, her head spinning from his dominance.

“Hurry,” she pleaded, the pleasurable pain on her scalp from his rough handling sending a jolt of arousal to her clit. “Please, Alpha, hurry.”

If he was honest, Killian had sped all the way back to the apartment, not caring one iota for the safety of other drivers. Emma was his, officially now, and the thought of having her, marking her, was making him almost rut-like aroused. He wanted to give her everything, more than just sex, and even that had his already hard cock twitching in the confines of his pants all the way through the apartment complex. When they reached the elevator that would take them up to the right floor, Emma giggling like a giddy teenager as her hand clutched his, the only part she could in public, she busied herself with gently stroking his index finger as if it were his cock, the hard glance he gave her only encouraging her further.

"Are you okay?" She purred innocently, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed. "You seem distracted, Alpha."

Killian chose to ignore her taunt, head tilted back and eyes fixed on the numbers above the elevator door as they illuminated with its impending arrival. When the translucent 'G' lit up, the chime of a bell and the grinding of the opening doors accompanying it, Killian gave her hand a squeeze, a gentle and yet forceful pressure that had her mouth turning dry and the ache between her thighs throbbing once more. He stepped inside, giving her arm a tug, the doors sliding shut with only inches to spare between the metal and Emma's hair, before throwing her against the back wall of the elevator with a possessive growl.

Emma hit the hard surface with such force the elevator wobbled from side to side, scraping the walls around it with a grinding sound as it began to move. Her eyes lit up with anticipation as Killian stalked his way to her, closing the gap in less than a second and pinning her to the wall with his weight. His hands were on her face, a gentle but forceful grip of her jaw that had slick soaking her underwear yet again, the widening of Killian's pupils in response sending a shiver up her spine.

"I could take you right here," he growled, his nose brushing her cheek as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, inhaling the scent of her. "But I won't." One of his hands snaked between their bodies, pushing its way into her pants and a single finger slipping through her folds. Killian's eyes fluttered closed when Emma whimpered, a needy plea that sent a rush of blood to his cock, something he knew she could feel as she attempted to move her hips against his.

"Please," Emma begged, her limbs weighty and numb from his most minute of touches, her mind racing when he dipped his head and ran his tongue along her collarbone.

Her skin was different somehow, the taste of her sizzling on his tongue, and he grew even harder than he already was at the smell of her scent gland. She wasn’t in heat, he knew that, but there were so many different senses firing the synapses in his brain all at once that the beast within was roaring, clawing at his insides in an attempt to take her where she stood, but by some miracle, despite the huge, watery doe eyes she was giving him that were anything but innocent, Killian managed to remain externally composed, and simply ran his tongue over her gland in an attempt to quell the fires within with a grin.

"Please, what?" Killian commanded wickedly, pausing his ministrations over her scent gland. He could practically feel the throb of it, hear the blood rushing around her body from how he was touching her, the primal beast within him begging for what was to come.

"Please, Alpha," Emma breathed.

Killian growled, a low rumble emanating from his chest, the surge of adrenaline from the fight still coursing through his veins. Beating Graham was more than just satisfactory. Killian felt like he had liberated Emma into a life of more love and admiration than she could ever conceive, and there would not be a single day he wouldn't show her that.

The chime of the elevator had him tearing his body from hers just in time for the doors to pull open and reveal one of the neighbours. Emma innocently gave him a courteous nod, but the man, also an Alpha, couldn't stop his gaze when the flushed, heavenly smelling Omega in front of him whimpered with desire. A warning snarl rumbled from Killian as he stepped through the doorway, the much smaller Alpha shrinking away and retreating along the hall, disappearing through a stairwell door instead, something that had Emma giggling in excitement and clutching Killian’s hand even tighter as he pulled her behind him down the hall.

“Quickly, Omega,” Killian snarled, feeling the buzz of anticipation on his skin as he passed each and every door of his neighbours, all Alpha is nature. “Your scent only serves to entice more Alpha in your direction.”

Emma fell into step behind him and felt the hairs on his forearm prickling to attention under her fingers when her hand slipped around his wrist and pulled him to a stop.

“So?” She challenged, just shy of their front door. “I am yours.”

Killian stepped into her space and she took a step back, the cold panel of the front door shocking her and making a gasp escape her lips. He was so close he could feel her suck the breath from between them and his eyes fell to the softness of her lips, slightly parted in silent invitation of his kiss. Emma heaved a breath and Killian could feel her breasts touching his chest, hot and nipples hard, poking his skin like there was no material between them. He licked his lips, imagining them under his tongue, imagining them and so much more as his eyes shifted to the throb of her scent gland, innocently tempting him to mark her where they stood.

“Not yet,” Killian whispered huskily, his senses on high alert. He heard a door open behind them and smelled the unmistakable musk of an Alpha in rut, coaxed out of his hiding hole by the waft of an unclaimed Omega and the possibility of sating his urges. Killian’s keys were in the front door before she had time to object or even look behind him at the grunting Alpha, Emma was being pushed inside with little resistance, the door quickly locked behind them.

“Alpha?” Emma’s voice was soft and enticed Killian to look at her, feasting on her beauty like a man starved. She had taken a step back from the door, shedding her clothes without preamble, tossing them aside garment after garment until she was gloriously naked in front of him. “What you did to Graham,” she began, swaying her hips as she walked towards him.

“Don’t say his name,” Killian growled.

“How you hurt him,” she continued, ignoring his possessiveness before reaching out and taking his hand. "It got me all worked up."

Killian grinned wickedly, drinking in the sight of her with a predatory state that was further darkened when she slipped his hand between her parted thighs and slowly dragged his fingertip through the slick there. She was so wet it also coated the outside of her lips and a mournful sigh slipped from her mouth when she pressed Killian's finger against her slippery clit.

"If I'd known it would have this sort of effect on you, I'd have beat his arse long before now," Killian growled, letting her ride his fingers.

"Is this...is this…" Emma couldn't find the words she needed, rendered speechless when Killian took over the torture between her legs. His thumb stroked her clit whilst his fingertips teased her opening, the muscles contracting in an attempt to pull his finger inside, desperate to relieve the ache there.

"This is being Omega, aye," Killian finished for her. "This is how your body reacts to your Alpha," he purred, quickening his pace between her legs, the sensitive nub throbbing with every rough swipe of his thumb. Emma's hand clutched his wrist but he did not let up, stroking her in just the right way to coax a very quick, easy orgasm from her that had her gasping for breath and her knees buckling. Killian held her up, driving two stiff fingers inside of her core until slick coated his palm, his other hand stopping her from toppling with a firm grip on her lower back. "This is how your body reacts to me," he growled.

Emma felt like her insides were going to erupt from every orifice, her entire body tingling from head to toe. The orgasm had been small, ebbing away inside of her, muscles gently throbbing against Killian's fingers, but it wasn't enough. She needed more. She needed the burn and stretch of his knot, the full feeling only he could give her and the welcomed pain of their frenzied love making. When her eyes finally fluttered open, her irises a mess of arousal tinted emerald and gold flecks illuminated by her recent release, there was a ferality about her that had Killian pausing momentarily with a sly, knowing smirk.

"There you are, Omega," he praised huskily but before he had any time for any more quips, Emma was pushing against his chest, hard, and he fell backwards against the front door.

Killian barely registered the shooting pain up his spine before Emma was on him, tongue running along the seam of his lips and into his mouth for a ravenous kiss. He strained his neck to push back against her, fingernails clawing at where her clothes once were and leaving welts in their wake. Her kiss was hot and needy and everything he would expect from an Omega in heat but with the clarity and determination of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. The thin barrier of clothing between them was too much. Emma needed his skin on hers and a ripple of lust travelled over her entire body when Killian’s hands framed her face in his hold.

“So wanton,” he teased, licking her lips. Not impressed with him breaking their kiss, Emma nipped at his bottom lip a little too hard, causing him to hiss in pain and tug it from her teeth when he wrenched his head backwards. Killian touched his lip and inspected his fingertips for blood, finding none but raising an eyebrow at her with a sinful smirk. “And so naughty,” he droned darkly.

Emma looked up at him through her lashes, leaning her entire weight against him. “Your naughty Omega,” she purred. She dragged her fingertips through the underside of his jaw, her nails catching on the scruff there and her eyes focused on the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

Killian surged forward and almost knocked her off her feet with his kiss, fusing his lips to hers and wrapping her up in his embrace. Emma leapt into his arms in response, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist and slipping down until the hardness of him was deliciously rubbing her clit. Killian’s hands were on her arse, kneading the fleshy globes as a way to rid himself of the frustration of desire she was causing by grinding against him, but it was futile, and the only relief he felt was when he sat her on the back of his couch and popped open his pants.

Emma giggled excitedly, raking her nails down the front of his shirt, quickly yanking the material up and helping him rid himself of it. Killian growled, the rumble vibrating through her fingertips when Emma clawed through the newly exposed chest hair before her, a hum of appreciation escaping her lips as the soft, raven coloured hair caressed her skin. Killian's muscles twitched, as did his cock, full of blood and yearning to be free and inside of the Omega so intent on suffocating him in her scent.

"What is it?" Emma noticed his hesitation, even in the split second it took Killian to furrow his brow.

"Nothing," Killian lied, letting her balance on the couch whilst he rid himself of the last remains of his clothing. He kicked them away, lest he trip over them later, and took one of her hands to move it to his cock, letting the cool tips of her fingers brush over the velvety soft shaft ever so gently. It felt like a torture but from Heaven itself, and even though he was controlling the pace, the mere thought of marking Emma has his forever would see him spilling himself in no time if he didn’t make a drastic rectification of the topic.

“Don’t lie to me,” Emma cooed, slipping her fingers between his legs where her gentle touch sent all the hairs on his thighs prickling to attention. She stroked at the skin there, inexplicably smooth compared to the rest of his body, and loved the way his cock bobbed in response and his eyes fluttered closed.

Killian gave her a half drunk stare and smirked. “I would never,” he pledged with a hand over his heart.

“Good,” Emma purred, parting her legs a little wider.

Killian watched her slip a finger through her folds before lifting the digit to her lips, slick hanging from it in an elongated droplet of viscous arousal, before she licked it with a content groan, her tongue caressing the slippery tip like it was his cock. A tiny bit fell to her chin and he was on her in a shot, cockhead bumping the inside of her slick covered thigh as his tongue darted out to lap it up, the taste of her on his tongue minute but setting his already heightened senses into overdrive.

“There is more where that came from,” Emma whispered huskily into his ear whilst he busied himself with dry humping her thigh, the slick there more than adequate to avoid the burn of friction for both of them, the tease of entering her a blinding torture Emma always welcomed with him. She cast her eyes down and he followed her gaze, dropping to his knees with her gentle pressure on his broad shoulders until he was eye level with her sex and the scent of her womanly arousal was even more a cross to bear. “Taste me, Alpha. Take what is yours.”

Killian licked his lips and hooked his arms around her upper legs, holding her steady before diving into the apex of her thighs with a feral growl. His taste buds came alive when her essence coated his tongue, sweet, juicy slick pouring from her sex in reposnse to his tongue diving into her core. He held her steady when she rocked backwards, angling her hips so she could soothe the throbbing pain in her clit by brushing it against his nose tip, an action that caused him to retreat from his salvation with a wry smirk.

“Easy, love,” he soothed darkly, skimming his hands over her behind and dragging his fingernails over her skin down to her knees. “We have all the time in the world,” he muttered against her inner thigh as he planted a kiss there.

“I want you now,” Emma sulked and attempted to drag him closer by hooking her heel into his shoulder. Killian looked up at her pouting lips with a fond smile, knowing that he would never tire of anything she did, now or ever.

“And you’ll have me,” Killian assured her, kissing one knee and then the other before spreading her leg even wider for his greedy tongue. “But not before I have you,” he droned seductively, diving back into her sex like a man starved, his hot, stiff tongue diving into her slick laden warmth once more, his eyes only leaving hers when her taste overwhelmed his senses and he had to close his eyes.

“Oh, fuck,” Emma panted in repsonse. One of her hands fisted his hair, grabbing at the darkened locks to hold him in place, having utter faith that he would hold her steady, even when her legs began to shake.

Killian only took her gasps as something to chase, like a dog after a hare, eager to hear her empty her lungs of every last breath she had, suffocating herself in desire, ready to die a thousand deaths if his tongue was how she was to go. Her bones dissolved inside of her limbs, a sudden weightlessness overtaking her and her core clenching at nothing in desperation to feel something. In honesty, she would never feel complete until his knot was filling her up, but for now the mastery of his tongue would have to do, and by the way he was giving every part of her sex his absolute fullest attentions, she was in no doubt of just how much of a master he really was.

Killian hummed in content, stopping for a moment to just take a breath before returning to the ecstasy between her thighs with a new goal in mind. The sharp intake of Emma’s breath told him he had hit the mark, his lips applying just the right amount of pressure as they closed around her clit to steal her words and render her a complete, babbling mess. He loved it. He loved the way her body reacted to him, and when it did, the way she was constantly surprised, like she was learning everything again, like she was experiencing colours or sounds for the first time, only for him to cruelly rip them away with the talents of his tongue, or his cock, and leave her quivering and unable to form anything but a smile. He loved her smile and he loved the way she smiled for him. He just loved her.

She was the finest thing he had ever tasted and he could tell just how close she was simply by the way her slick awoke every single one of his taste buds from their slumber. He didn’t even need to double his efforts, relishing in how easy it was to bring her to another orgasm that would only serve to intensify the sweetness of her slick, on which he could languishly feast on for as long as Emma’s body produced it. Everytime she came it was different and Killian savoured every last drop of her ever hungry for more, he pulled her clit between his teeth, grazing the nub with a featherlight touch that had her careening off the edge she had been balancing on.

“Ki...Killian! Oh my God, Alpha, I’m coming!” Emma screamed incoherently, her entire body quaking as euphoria ripped through her for a second time.

Killian grinned against the wetness of her, broad strokes of his tongue slurping her slick into his mouth where he swallowed it with a greedy groan. His fingernails dug into the flesh of her thighs, holding her sex against his mouth as she tried to writhe away from him, the sensitivity on her clit almost too much to bear. Emma sucked in awkward breaths, her gasps turning to laughter as she smiled much wider than she ever had before, her skin alive, every inch crying out for more of the touch Killian was so carefully denying her as she came down from the high of her orgasm.

“There’s a good girl,” Killian soothed, steadying his licks and pressing kisses to her lips until Emma’s fingers released the clump of hair she was gripping onto for dear life, stroking his soft, dark locks instead.

The praise sent a ripple of warmth spreading through her body and when Killian rose to his feet, cock hard and proud against his deliciously thatched abdomen, Emma grabbed his hips and pulled him to her until he was nestled between her still parted thighs. Killian put up little resistance, only stopping when his erection slipped between her sodden folds and her lips met his in a fiery kiss.

Emma's body reacted instantly, her stomach falling away into the nowhere of desire, her hands clutching his face to hers. Her fingernails clawed at his scruffy cheeks and the sound it made was amplified in her ears, barely audible above the sound of her own blood in her veins, but still so loud she didn't hear the growl that rumbled deep in Killian's chest. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth, skimming along the seam of her smile until access was granted, the taste of herself in his mouth sending another, new wave of slick to expel itself between her still trembling thighs.

With a cant of his hips, Killian was sliding his erection through the wetness of her folds, the head of his cock grazing her clit and making her gasp. He gobbled up her sigh, grabbing her hips and repeating his thrust just to hear the sounds she made, breath stole from her lungs with such an intimate gesture, silent and yet saying everything that Killian wanted to convey. He would go to the ends of time if it meant he could hear her mumble profanities and, most of all, his name and title, and so when it came to marking her as his forever, Killian was going to make sure she was thoroughly exhausted with pleasure.

Just how Killian could know her so well, despite hardly knowing her at all, had all become clear. An Alpha would go to Hell and back for an Omega, would even die in some cases, and Emma couldn't even imagine the turmoil Killian had felt inside thinking she was a married Beta and so confusingly addictive. Now her true nature had been revealed, and Alpha law had seen to her sorry excuse of a now ex husband, there was nothing standing in their way of eternity together. Their love was hard, and it had come fast.

"I love you," Emma breathed against his lips, a sheen of sweat sticking their foreheads together. Her breath, still ragged from two orgasms, fogged across his mouth and Emma felt his tongue touch her lips when it darted out in search of her sweet slick that now lingered on both of them.

"And I you," Killian rasped, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'll always love you."

Emma had no words in reply, simply smiling as wide as the muscles of her face would allow.

“There’s that smile,” Killian said in awe. He traced the outline of her jaw with his fingertip, brushing his thumb over the plumpness of her lips before hooking a bent finger under her chin and tilting her head up until their eyes met once more. “You’re so beautiful, Emma,” he purred sweetly. “I am the luckiest Alpha in the world.”

“No,” Emma shook her head. “I’m the lucky one. You found me and saved me.” She watched the quirk of his mouth as his lips curved into a knowing smile, a slight blush colouring his cheeks just visible as he bowed his head. Her palm on his cheek brought him back to her and he lifted his head, grey blue hues meeting hers once more, a sly grin on her face.

“What?” He asked shyly.

“You’re so soft, Alpha,” Emma teased.

“Oh, soft am I?” Killian growled, the coarseness returning back to his voice and the dark veil of craving flooding back into his eyes.

Two firm hands slapped her thighs, pinning himself between them, before snaking his hands beneath her buttocks and hoisting her into his arms. Emma weighed next to nothing and without prompting, her legs wrapped around his waist, his still hard cock rubbing her deliciously and earning him another soft whimper. Emma clung onto his neck, loving the strength rippling under her fingers, her vision a haze as they moved through the room. Killian was sure footed in the way he moved, his destination marked out in his mind and a smirk on his face. Emma’s skin came to life under his hold, the fine, dandy hairs reaching out as her skin tightened under his digits, her anticipation silent but evident and finally quelled when Killian reached the floor to ceiling windows of his apartment and slammed her body into the cold, hard, pane.

Emma shrieked, scrambling to settle her aching skin against the glass, confident Killian would hold her aloft, and he did, until he used her slightly sweat soaked skin to his advantage and let her slide down the pane to where she was quickly impaled on his waiting erection. He buried himself to the knot bulb, toes curling against the floor in his effort, making sure Emma could feel every inch of him inside of her. The silent gasp she emitted told him that she was nowhere near sated, her inner muscles clenching and pulling at his length in an attempt to coax out his knot, something Killian staved off with a clenched jaw.

The chill on her back did nothing to quench the fire inside of her, Emma’s body instinctively reacting to his aggression, slick coating his knot bulb that threatened to slip inside of her. Emma was so wet and couldn’t feel any of her limbs. The only part of her body she could feel was her clit and it was painfully throbbing against his pubic bone as Killian held her against the glass, her only reprieve from the precipice of her impending orgasm was when he added another forceful thrust to his assault. She thought she was dying, held in the void before another orgasm by the way Killian knew her and her body so well, each cant of his hips and drag of his cock an agony she would gladly endure for the rest of her life if he promised never to stop.

The pleasurable pain of his fingernails digging into the flesh of her behind jolted her senses and Emma knew Killian could somehow sense her impending release before she could. He had tripled his efforts, changing the angle of his thrusts so that his cock rubbed her spongy core just right, the steady rhythm of before now gone and a more powerful force overtaking him. Emma cried out with each inflicting ram of his hips, her hand fisting a clump of his hair telling him she was almost there, her orgasm just out of reach, but Killian knew just how to settle her whines and pleas. He reached under her to where they were joined and stretched the apex of her already parted thighs even wider, one last pound from his entire length and just the promise of his knot bulb sending her careening into the abyss.

Emma wasn’t sure how, but her orgasm tore through her with such force she was temporarily frozen, her limbs stiffening when Killian continued to coax more slick from her by massaging her core with his determined thrusts, only slowing his assault when Emma reached the heights of her numbing pleasure and released the hold she had on his hair. Killian lifted his head, intoxicated by the now overly sweet scent of her gland, primed with temptation and dizzy from the way she sighed his title with what little air she had left in her lungs, and kissed the underside of her jaw with a tenderness he didn’t even know he could possess whilst being so close to his own release.

“Please,” Emma whined and he almost lost himself then and there.

“Please, what?” He ground out, pushing his cock inside of her impossibly deeper, his face pressed against her cheek as he inhaled the scent of her.

“Please, Alpha,” Emma begged. “I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

Killian pulled his hips back and then thrust forward with such force that all of the air left Emma’s lungs and the pane of glass she was pinned against audibly shook. He did it again and all of her insides began to tingle again, not the slightest bit recovered from her latest climax, her toes curling and her fingernails scoring lines into his back with such force, Killian could feel the rush of warmth to the lines as his skin broke and blood welled from the scratches. It spurred him on, his ferality within breaking the surface of his resolve, his head bowing and teeth scraping over the now engorged scent gland at the juncture of her neck. It called to him, Emma’s blood singing in her veins, drawing him closer still with its rhythmic thumping and making the points of his canines sharpen in anticipation of marking her.

“You smell so good, Omega,” Killian rasped, letting the point of his tooth nick her skin. “But I want more.”

“More?” Emma asked breathlessly, her core throbbing with need.

Killian pulled his cock out of her to the head and snapped his hips forward again, making her cry out and dig her heels even harder into his spine.

“The more you come, Omega,” Killian purred, licking the sweetness of her blood from her collarbone. “The better you taste.”

Emma whimpered, the darkness in his voice sending a shiver up her spine. “I can’t,” she pleaded, every single cell in her body crying out for his torture to end whilst simultaneously needing it to last forever.

“Come now, love,” Killian cooed, pausing his thrusts and brushing the sweat soaked hair from her flushed face, stroking the apple of her cheek until her eyes fluttered open to meet his. “You’ve got one more in you,” he praised with a dirty smirk. “I know you have.”

A glimmer of a smile graced Emma’s lips and melted his heart.

“See? You know it too,” he teased. Another press of his knot bulb against her sex had her gasping and her gland releasing another whiff of her heavenly scent. “And you want it, love, you can’t deny it.”

“Not here,” Emma whispered, framing his face with her shaking hands.

Their eyes locked and he saw all the last traces of the longing and hopelessness her life had been about until now disappear, and the bright spark of hope and happiness filled the space that had formed. He had done that, or at least he felt like he deserved the credit for it, helping the woman he had met become the Omega Emma was now, held aloft by the sheer will of lust alone, enticing his Alpha urges to the crest of his being. Killian might have signed Graham Humbert's contract to earn enough to live, but in finding Emma and her true nature, he had found a way to survive.

"Alright, love," Killian nodded and with a grunt of exertion he was wrapping her tightly in his arms, face buried into the swell of her gland, and making his way through the empty doorway of his bedroom.

The freshly washed bed clothes were harsh and starchy against Emma's back as Killian laid her down, letting his cock slip from her core much to both their dissatisfaction. It wasn't long before Killian was silently rearranging her until she was underneath the duvet and finding his spot right behind her, his rock hard cock still ready for its task, nudging between the crease of her buttocks as he nestled in even closer and rested his chin on her shoulder. Emma's hum of satisfaction told him he had done right, but what sort of Alpha would he be if he didn't know what truly made his Omega happy? Or how, after multiple orgasms, what could finally send her into bliss once more and finally get his knot she so eagerly desired.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked softly, the arm slung over her midriff snaking its way to her chest where he wasted no time cupping a perky breast and pulling her back flush against his chest.

"I am," Emma replied, silky smooth chest and body hair caressing her skin. “But I’m still in need of my Alpha.” She wiggled her body, arse grinding against his length, and he growled in response.

“Naughty, naughty,” he purred into the back of her ear. A hand on the jut of her hip stilled her movements whilst his knee nudged between her clenched thighs. “And what do naughty Omegas get?” He skimmed his hand from her hip down over the shape of her stomach, over her mound and between her legs, fingers slipping through the wetness of her slick that had prepared her body for what was to come. His question was met with nothing but a breathy moan and Killian wasted no time in seeking his answer, pulling back his hips and aiming his cock through her legs until he was settled between her sodden folds. “I said,” he repeated darkly. “What do naughty Omegas get, love?”

Emma sighed something incoherent that made him grin wickedly. She reached behind her and fisted his hair, the pleasurable pain prickling over his scalp just making him cant his hips more aggressively. Emma let out a squeak when the head of his cock bumped her clit and a jolt of euphoria shot through her, pooling in her lower stomach and signalling yet another impending climax, something that had Killian’s knot poking out of its sheath before he had even entered her.

“Omega,” he warned with the same blackened tone that had her coming earlier.

“The knot,” Emma sighed, grinding her soaking wet opening over the ridges of his cock, hoping beyond hope that even just the tip of him would slip inside and stretch her wide with deliciousness. “Naughty Omegas get the knot.”

Killian pressed his lips to her scent gland and his teeth ached in anticipation. “Aye, love, they do,” he hummed through his kiss.

A quick move of his hips had the angle changing so that the tip of his cock was finally slipping inside of her, slowly at first to allow her to adjust to his size, but then with a force that had stars pricking behind her eyelids and all of the air leaving her lungs once more. Killian was relentless in pursuit of her orgasm, and he knew, as he was pushing his way into her encapsulating warmth slowly, and agonizingly, that this would be her last. Marking an Omega was always easier as they came undone, the quakes and trembling of climax enough to mask the bite mark on their gland that would undoubtedly leave a scar. But it wouldn't just be a scar. Emma’s mark would tie her to him forever, a reminder that she was more precious than anything she could ever comprehend, and there wouldn’t be a single day of his life Killian wouldn’t be reminded of that by his bite mark on her skin.

With a gentle push, Killian rolled them over until Emma was laying flat on her belly and his weight was pressing her into the mattress. He pushed himself up, his muscles rippling across his back, elbows threatening to buckle when the new angle buried his cock even deeper inside of her. Emma sucked in a breath and he smirked, pushing his hips against her buttocks even harder, his knot bulb parting her cheeks when Emma pushed back against him until he could feel her slick coating his balls.

“Oh, she’s wet,” Killian purred with menacing desire. He lowered his head, brow sweat from his exertion dripping onto Emma’s back, and pressed his lips to her spine, loving the way the tiny hairs covering her skin stretched upwards for his attention. “You’re so wet, Omega. So ready for your Alpha’s knot.”

“And your mark,” Emma sighed, the word changed by a particularly forceful jab of his cock.

Killian stopped his thrusts, sucking in a breath. He’d dreamed of the words Emma had just uttered since the day he had first laid eyes on her. It seemed even his subconscious had known her true nature. Reluctantly he pulled out and sat back on his heels, encouraging Emma to roll over onto her back by gently caressing the delicate bone of her ankle.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked breathlessly as she rolled over. “Did I do something?”

“What? No,” Killian assured her quickly with a smile. He looked down at his cock, heavy and throbbing in his hand as he stroked himself, the corner of his lips tugging into a smirk. “Does it look like you did anything wrong, love?”

A pink glow bloomed over her cheeks and she shifted her eyes. “Something I said then?”

Killian licked his lips and shook his head in assurance, falling forward and crawling up over her body. Emma welcomed his bulk, her legs falling open to accommodate him and her entire body shivering from the kisses he left over her stomach, breasts and, finally, over the scent gland on her neck.

“I assure you, my love,” he said, nuzzling the divine smelling gland. “There isn’t a single thing you could ever say to offend me in any way?” He peppered more kisses to her skin, his tongue finally licking over the sensitive, heady scented bump just above her collarbone. “Alright?”

Emma’s eyes fluttered closed and she could feel the length of him pressed to her entrance, her body begging for him to cant his hips and fill her up once more. “So, what is it? Why do you shy away from marking whenever I bring it up?”

“I don’t,” Killian whispered into the underside of her jaw as he continued his ministrations.

“You do,” Emma told him firmly but without a hint of malice. She planted her hands on his face, dragging his head up until his darkened grey eyes met hers. “Are you being soft again?”

One eyebrow jumped up on his forehead and his lips pulled into a wry grin. “You love that, don’t you?” Killian teased, nuzzling her nose before pressing his lips to hers. “Look, love, I just…”

“You won’t hurt me, Killian,” Emma interrupted him, stroking the faint line of a scar on his cheek. “You could never.”

He lifted his head again, eyes searching hers for the answer to a question he wasn’t even sure how to ask, a question he already, in fact, knew the answer to. Emma wanted him to mark her, claim her as his for as long as they both lived, but he had never actually done it before. In fact, Killian had spent most of his life actively avoiding the subject, but here, pinned beneath him, was one of the most beautiful, precious and sometimes intimidating Omegas he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. Plenty of Omegas had sought him out of the years, but none like Emma. None compared to her enchanting good looks, her sharp wit, or her winsome smile that had beguiled him the very second he had laid eyes on her in person. He wasn’t willing to jeopardize any of those things with the process of marking unless Emma was absolutely sure it was what she wanted too.

“Killian,” she prompted, shaking him from his reverie. “I want this.”

“I’m afraid,” he confessed, the words catching in his throat. “Marking is romanticized by people who’ve no knowledge of how it happens, or what happens, when, in reality, it’s quite different. I’ve never done this before. What if...what if I can’t control my nature and I hurt you? Gods, Emma, I could never forgive myself.”

“Hey,” Emma soothed, calming his rant with a palm pressed to his stubbly cheek. He swallowed hard and let her lift his bowed head until their eyes met again. “I know marking will hurt. I’m not a fool, Killian, it leaves a scar,” Emma said firmly, but her smile faded. “If you don’t want this, I’ll understand. It’s a lot to ask-”

His lips on hers cut off her words and her last connection to reality. Soft, plump, kiss bruised lips on hers made every worry fade away instantly, quickly morphing it into desire that pooled between her legs once more. Killian nudged his cock into her entrance as he kissed her, his tongue mirroring the actions of his hips, a dirty smirk spreading over his parted lips when Emma dug her fingernails into his bicep in anticipation. She was still so wet, ready and aching for the stretch of his knot, her legs unable to spread apart any wider in a silent invitation of his length. One of Killian’s hands found her breast, softly kneading the delicate peak of her nipple with the pad of his thumb until her back arched off the bed into his touch and she whimpered into his mouth. His tongue licked at the roof of her mouth because he could swear he could taste her slick there from their kiss, and his hand continued its journey down to her hip before clutching the flesh and pinning her firmly to the bed.

“I’ll be as soft as I can,” he promised against her lips, angling his hips so that his cock was inching back inside of her.

Emma gasped aloud. “You still want to mark me as your Omega?” She ground out through her pleasure.

“Love, I beat up a Humbert for the right to claim you,” Killian reminded her with a sly grin. When he was fully sheathed inside of her once again, he held fast, letting her body relax around him, the throb of blood in the walls of her core massaging his length.

“Mmmm, don’t remind me,” Emma purred coyly, grabbing his face for another fierce kiss that tested his resolve.

Killian had meant to go slow at this point; to really make sure Emma could feel every single inch of his length and his girth in the hopes she would realise just how important she was to him, and how much he loved, and would always, love her, but the instant her lips were on his the tables were turning and Emma was clenching her core muscles in a measly attempt to pull him deeper, when in reality, all it did was serve to antagonize the feral baser beast within him. The gentle hand on her hip, meant to steady her, changed, fingernails digging into her delicate flesh and scraping ruby lines across the pale surface.

“I absolutely want to claim you, Omega,” Killian growled, breaking their kiss to watch her features as he tortured her with his cock again. He pulled out, hand slipping between them to guide himself inside of her, fingers wrapped around the bulb of his knot to stop it from slipping inside her. “But first, something to relax you, my love.”

“Alright,” Emma agreed in his accent, biting her bottom lip. “You’re knot, maybe? To ease the pain?”

“As the lady wishes,” Killian purred in agreement.

Emma relaxed under his weight, the glide of his cock, coated in slick, a torturous heat that pooled in her stomach and between her thighs. Excessive slick covered her inner thighs and the bed, the languid pumps of his cock causing it to gush out of her in time with her breathy moans, hindered in their expulsion by the grip he had on her waist and his weight pushing her into the mattress. Emma could feel him everywhere, greedy kisses gobbling up her moans and roaming hands skimming over every inch of her skin leaving fire in their wake. The scent gland on her collarbone was itching, swollen and throbbing, trying to temp the Alpha into biting down, her body desperate for Killian to do so and end her agony.

“Please, Alpha,” Emma whined. “Your knot. I need it.” She raked her nails over any part of him she could reach, her vision blurry from his Alpha musk that surrounded her senses and rendered her unable to form any thought other than those of her primal Omega nature. The desire was threatening to devour her whole, and only Killian could take it away.

“Oh, you’re going to get it, Omega,” Killian growled sultrily.

His hand found his cock, his knot almost out of its sheath, and a quick tug had it completely exposed, Emma’s slick coating the straining bulb and sending a shiver up his spine. He just wanted to be inside of her entirely, the feeling of loss far too great having seen her come three times already, but not once on his knot. He wanted the tight contractions of her core around him, his body called for it, and as he slanted his lips over hers and peppered hot, open mouthed kisses down the column of her throat, he could sense her body wanted it too. Emma’s thighs began to quake and the tell tale hitch of breath told him she was close, his efforts doubling in an instant and pressing his searing hot knot to her opening in a temptation she could only beg for.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Mark me, Alpha. Make you yours.”

The sound Killian made was animalistic, the deep, reverberating rumble filling the entire room, but it wasn't enough to drown out Emma’s cries of ecstasy when, with sharpened canines and a feral snarl, Killian sank his teeth into the soft swelling of her scent gland and her whole world turned a blinding white. Her shriek was different to what Killian had ever heard, the sound of her shuddering moan something he would never forget as long as he lived. Killian pinched his eyes closed, willing the feeling to never end, and with a final, forceful thrust of his hips, his knot was pushing past the slippery opening of Emma’s sex and he was home.

Emma went stiff in his arms and the taste of blood filled his mouth, the coppery tang enhanced by the surge of scent from her gland. The beast awoke, finally freed as he’d knotted her, and in a last ditch effort to stay as soft as his Omega liked, Killian skimmed his hand up her forearm and pinned it above her head, sucking on her gland and pushing his hips even harder into her, toes scrambling against the soft sheets beneath his feet, all to make sure that there wasn’t a chance of his knot slipping out as he trembled in pleasure and followed her into euphoria. Emma’s cry was followed by a content giggle, the flesh of her cheeks warming Killian’s forehead as he released his white knuckle grip on her hip and hand, relaxing in the afterglow of their orgasms as the intense tightness that had tipped them over the edge, ebbed away.

It took everything Killian had not to collapse on top of her, instead sinking down onto his elbows and framing her with his bulk, his chest hair sticking to the sweat that shimmered across her body. His head was spinning, the intensity of her scent almost too much. It was different now. It had become indubitably sweeter somehow, the essence of her very being and everything about it reeked of a claimed Omega, but was still indescribably still Emma. With his head on her bosom, Killian inhaled her scent like it was the air he needed to breathe, the sound of her thundering heartbeat the only thing he could hear as Emma cradled his head and stroked his hair.

“My soft Alpha,” Emma soothed, his welcome weight making her smile.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Killian said softly between kisses. With every one he felt the flutter of her muscles around his knot which just prompted him to pepper her skin with more. “You’re glowing, my love.”

“You did that,” Emma said matter of factly.

Killian pushed himself up until he was towering over her again, careful not to tug at where they were joined. “I did?” He teased playfully.

“Don’t play dumb, Alpha,” Emma chided gently.

“Mmm, I like hearing that,” Killian purred, pressing his lips to her scent gland.

“That you’re dumb?” Emma chuckled.

“No, Omega.” Killian growled seductively, staring into the green abyss of her blissful post coital stare. “That you’re mine.”

[shadowsfascination]

Shadamy Swordland | Ch 1 | The Hayloft

In reference to this post Sorry if it’s a little long!I might add a second chapter to this. I got carried away and alrady wrote the draft, aaah! ^^

The Chaos energy that we know from the canon is seen here as a source of magical powers. One can master spells and learn the sacred arts to perform them. Special thanks to @shadamyheadcanons for writing all these beautiful headcanons. You may not know, but your writings are a huge inspiration to me and brighten up my day (:  I’m not even sure whether I write well, but here goes, lol! ___________________________________________

There’s a hidden entrance to the hayloft above the stables-building where Shadow used withdraw himself after a day of training his students or intense swordfights. It’s accessed by a ladder, stuffed away in a dark corner of the stables-building. One must know about it’s existence to use it or one will not even find it. To keep it like this, Shadow told no one about it, so he’d be left alone, even if he has a pleasant home to go to. His house was located near the central square on the academy and therefore way too noisy for him. Shadow liked the quiet so he could think. He was sensitive to incentives, which could be a blessing and a curse all at once. In addition to the crowdy location of his home, there’d also be the many, many encounters he’d have with young female students who always ‘happened’ to run into him on his way home that he’d rather go without. Notorious for being an excellent swordsman and a noble too, there’d always be female students trying to catch his eye. When both not intending to engage in nor interested in any romantic affair, he’d also feel extremely awkward not knowing how to let them down easily. He had a reputation of being blunt and did not want to add to it. Especially after he’d been called to the board to explain why there had been gossips around the academy about a romantic involvement with one of his students, Amy Rose.

He made clear to the board there was no such thing going on between them and offendedly told them that their presupposition was to be unheard of. He was her superior, she was his trainee. It was unthinkable that he’d become romantically involved with her. Even more so because he was a noble and she was not. No, Shadow had no interest in romance whatsoever. His work as a trainer and duty as a knight was too important to him and he did not let anything distract him from that. And so he returned to his hayloft, alone. Or so it seemed…

A cloaked Amy Rose snuck out of the trainees’ dorm in the middle of the night, remaining in the shadows of the academy buildings. When unable to avoid stepping into the range of the torchlights on the streets, she used her special skill to briefly turn invisible and disappeared into the shadows again. No one would catch a glimpse of her. She’d been doing it for about two months now and became more skilled in the art of hiding, blending into the background and admitted to herself that she even enjoyed sneaking around. Checking for the last time to see if the coast was clear, she placed her boots on the spurts of the ladder and carefully climbed up. Once she made it to the stables-building, she was safe. No one would come around at this hour and it was far away from the dorm. And that meant she didn’t have to be quiet anymore. A wave of excitement rushed through her as she stepped further, peaking around one of the wooden support-beams. Her trainer and now secret lover was napping in the hay, a twig of wheat between his lips, armor and sword removed. Even without any of it he was still extremely handsome.

“You’re here.” “Hey you!” Amy felt caught. She kept forgetting how well developed his senses were. A heat gushed to her cheeks. “Did no one see you?” “No. Surprisingly, there wasn’t anyone out there tonight.” Amy stepped in on him, out of the small, faint light that managed to beam into the loft. “Lucky you.” “I am. I get to spend time with you.” She seductively winked at him. “We see each other almost every day. I would say we already spend a lot of time together.” “Yes, but almost never can I do this…” Amy bent over and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Shadow then grasped her wrists and pulled her into him to passionately return her gesture and playfully pulled her over into the stack of hay he laid in. Twigs of straw flew up around them and the old, wooden floors creaked at her landing, slightly startling the horses in the stables beneath them. Cloak and rapier were taken off to be placed near his sword and amor. Besides her room at the dorm and the bathing facility, this was the only place where she’d put her sword away. Even when their district wasn’t engaged in a war currently, there were lots of obscure figures around with bad intentions and she should be able to handle them herself at all times. But not here. She was safe around him and could even pretend to be a damsel in destress if she wanted. She properly sat next to him, being handed a handmade clay cup with fresh water, which was all he could provide her up here. It was unevenly round and was a steal from the dorm-kitchen.

“Sadly you cannot. I was called to the board a few days ago.” “What? Why?” “They asked me to explain the apparently present gossips about us being romantically involved. I believe they bought my story, seeing how the apologized for the improper assumption after my offended reaction.” “There’s gossips about us? That’s bad! I cannot imagine who would have caught onto us. We’ve been really careful.” Amy chewed her lip and drew a sorrowfully face, staring at her reflection in the cup.

“Beats me.” “So, what did you tell them?” “I might have raised my voice and angrily scolded them for daring to accuse me of such foul, improper behaviour, you know?” Shadow said with a neutral expression. Amy heaved a sigh. “Plagues, Shadow! You really said that? Oh, who am I kidding? Of course that’s what you said!” “What are you being so dramatic for? It is in fact one of the very few assets that comes with the title of being a noble.” “You’re hopeless. Others will despise you for this kind of behaviour.” “What business do I have with others? Besides, they’re already not very fond of me. I’m an outsider and always will be. Anyway, we have got to be extra cautious from now on. They let me off with a warning, but this is serious.” “Serious, how?” “If they have the slightest proof that something is in fact going on, I’ll be suspended from training students and you’ll…” A long pause followed while Shadow looked away from her.

“You’ll be refrained from participating in battles, not allowing you to advance in your training or education. Worst case scenario might be that you’ll even be transferred to another academy.” “Aaargh! That’s so unfair!”

Amy intensified the grip on the cup enough to cause a crack in the enamel and angrily muttered about the ways she could scold the board for being this unreasonable. If it weren’t the middle of the night her somewhat impulsive, hot-headed nature might’ve gotten the best of her, storming off to the board to give them a piece of her mind. That was if they’d even let them see her. It wasn’t her place, coming from a lower-rank family. She furiously hated the hierarchy in the world and let out a curse. Shadow then grabbed her face and accidentally squeezed her muzzle a little too hard. Interrupting her many wrath-driven ideas to change the board’s vision, she was now forced to look at him. “I’m telling you now: you are NOT to mingle in this! I forbid it.”

“You forbid it?!” Amy broke away from his grip, bewildered and offended by his statement. “Yes, I forbid it. One of the benefits of being both your trainer and your lover. You’ll only make things look more suspicious.” An angry frown appeared on her face. “It’s not okay that they have that much power! I hate it! It shouldn’t matter! It doesn’t matter how big the gap between us is! I don’t understand how you’re not upset about this?!” “Fire and torments, Amy!” Shadow yelled at her. “Just get over it! Both our futures are at stake here! You have great potential to become a fine swordswomen and I’m not just saying that because you’re my trainee.” “So, our career-perspective is all that matters to you?” A sudden cold gushed through his body and Shadow’s face grew pale, leaving his hands to tremble and fists clenched. “How dare you say that to me?!” He whirled around, pushed her down and bent over her. The heart that had eagerly anticipated being with him tonight was now afraid of him for the first time in her life. It cramped inside her chest in fear, but that feeling faded to be replaced with a mixture of compassion and sadness when she caught his gaze. “BLAST, women! You’re the only person I choose to hang out with voluntarily. THE ONLY ONE!” A crack in his voice ended his scream. Startled by his outburst and her own false accusations, mean even in a way, Amy fell quiet. He wasn’t angry. He was afraid! Afraid to lose her. Shadow turned his face away from her, swallowed and bitterly stated: “If that’s what you think of me, you’d better take lea-“ Amy leaned in on Shadow, pulling him into her and silenced his doubts with a passionate, yet tender kiss. The hands that were clenched together as fists just a moment ago, opened up and slid under her back to lift her in his arms, holding her closer to his body. Her heartrate changed into a different pace, still rapid, but now driven by the intimate connection between them. She broke away from their kiss, eyes tearing up. “I don’t! At all!” He nodded at her once, closing the remaining distance between them again before she could entirely finished her sentence. He not only locked lips with her once more, but lifted her muzzle with his index-finger to force her gaze upon his. Amy then clasped her hands onto his back, slightly losing touch with reality with every touch. She ran her fingers through his quills in ways that made him shiver, returning his hasty, impatient ways of loving her. Shadow’s lips found their way to the soft lines that formed her jaw, then her neck and softly, heatedly blew in her ear, sending a hot rush through her veins. Abruptly he sat up. “Shadow, wha-“ He silenced her at once. His ears then twitched. Did he hear something? She held her breath. Suddenly the least of background sounds were highly present and she couldn’t differentiate them anymore. Luckily, as a feature of the ultimate lifeform, he was more than qualified to. When he breathed out at last, she followed his lead. “False alarm. I thought I heard something there for a minute.” Already leaning in to pick up where they left, Shadow was stopped by Amy. “Hey…I’m really sorry about before…” “Just promise me that you’ll stay out of it.” “I’ll bear with it.” “It’s only until you graduate. Now, can we please drop the subject?”

“Sure thing, my lord.”

She stuck out her tongue, knowing he hated to be called that and gave him a playful push, but was suddenly startled by the sound of a crack coming from the ladder. “Someone’s here!” She whispered with eyes wide open. She panicked, grasped in the direction of her belt to find that her sword still laid on the haystack and rushed over to get it. Being followed by Shadow, who also gathered his armor and sword and pulled her close to him. She looked at him in confusion. “Trust me, I have a trick up my sleeve: Chaos Control.” Having arrived at his house by teleportation caused by what Amy guessed was a high level sacred art spell, she heavily breathed out the tension in her body.

“That was amazing! How did you…What kind of spell was that?!”

“Plagues, Amy! Your cloak!”

“No, no, no!” she called out in despair, but regained hope when Shadow pointed out this was an excellent occasion for her to use her special skill.

He warped them back to the stables and hid somewhere, waiting for her to come back with the cloak.

Amy turned invisible and entered the spurts of the ladder as quiet as possible.

She quickly scanned the loft for the stranger. Her vision became more blurry when using her special skill, which was one of the downsides of it.

She was in luck: there was no one around. The other must have left.

There it was!

She swiftly footed her way to the piece of clothing, grabbed it and turned around to leave.

In the blink of an eye Amy regained visibility when a hand cupped her mouth from behind.

Amy let out a muffled cry.

The free hand of the stranger pushed her arms behind her back and fumbled the cloth around them.

“Surprise!”

[with-love-anu]

The reading nook

PAIRING: Loki x Reader

Sighing, you set up the last stack of books into its case. Why could people not learn to keep the things where they picked it from? “The Reading Nook“ was a library cum bookstore you inherited from your father. It was a cute little shop present just by the corner of a street next to a café. You had a bunch of loyal customers and a bunch of college students who were always in and out. That still left you with a lot of time and in those moments, you drew. The doorbell tinged as a young man with long raven hair came in. You recognized him immediately. How could you not? They were all over the news. You didn’t let that fact deter you. You greeted him with your customary smile.

“Hello! Is there something I could help you with?” you said as he looked at you.

“No, I’ll be good. Can you just point me towards a place where I would not get disturbed?” he asked as you nodded. You pointed towards the farthest couch behind a shelf. He strode towards it without sparing you another glance. You shook your head getting back to your own desk. You worked on your latest piece, getting up to help some customers when needed. It was just around closing time when Loki strode up to you and bought a book and left without another word.

You sighed. It had been a long day.

***

The god continued to come at your little library almost daily. He would move to the corner sit there all day long and leave near the closing time. Sometimes he would buy a book or two, or a new pen or diary you’d put on display. It was quiet. You never quite expected him to be such, being a literal prince in his own world. But then again, he always dressed as if he was ready to meet the queen. You guessed the things he went through rather quieted him. There was always so much emotion in his dark green eyes, you often got lost in them while he talked to you. You hoped he didn’t notice. You had the unexplainable urge to sketch him, only to chastise yourself for thinking so.

There was a sound at the door and you turned to see Mr. Wron. You clenched your eyes shut before moving towards him. He was a nightmare.

“Hello Mr. Wron. How can I-“ you started as he just raised his hand in an indication to stop. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“I would like some history books on the Nazi Period.” He demanded.

“Of course.” You said leading him to the place where the god sat. He didn’t even notice you both coming. Or rather, ignored you. You busied yourself taking out a number of books to show Wron. He was never quite pleased with anything.

“Ho ho ho! Aren’t you the monster who tried and failed to take over the earth?” his nasty voice came as you felt a chill run down your spine. You turned to look at them. Loki pretended not to listen to what was just said and was still immersed in his book. You tried to divert the situation.

“Mr. Wron, here are the boo-“ you said as he scoffed.

“How dare you let such filth enter this bookstore!” he said as you felt an unexplainable anger wash over you.

“MR. WRON! I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself. Now, would you like any of these books before leaving?”

“You’re defending him?”

“I very much am. Now if you’ll cho-”

“Oh please! I’m your biggest donator, I have a say in what happens in this shop.”

“Mr. Wron we’ve never begged you to donate anything. I decide what happens here and I’ve decided that Mr. Loki would stay.” You said seething. You couldn’t let him get away with what he said. Loki had done nothing wrong, it had been explained several times over the television and if he was even a bit of the cruel person everyone deemed him to be he wouldn’t have helped you keep back every book the other day. You already had enough of this man taunting you at everything you did.

“Well then, I wouldn’t hesitate to stop my monthly fee.” He said glaring at you.

“That’s your own wish, now take your damn book and leave.” You said as he stalked closer to you. You thought he would hit you but a hand stopped him. You turned to see Loki grabbing his hand putting it away.

“She said leave.” He said furiously as your mouth dried. Mr. Wron cowered and shot you a nasty glance before leaving, slamming the door behind him. You cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry about that.” You said as the god scrutinized you.

“You didn’t do anything.” He said calmly. “Is he a partner in holding this store?”

“No, but he donates a huge amount which keeps things smooth. It’s my parent’s library.”

“I see.”

He moved to sit back on the couch and you bit your lip contemplating how to thank him for saving you.

“What do you want to say?” he asked, not looking up from his book.

“Thank you… for saving me.” You breathed as he looked up at you with a stoic expression, nodding. You sighed, going back to your desk.

***

Your eyes widened as you re-read the email the bank sent to you.

“The Stark industries has made a donation of $10,000 to the ‘The Reading Nook’”

It cannot be. That would cover every pending payment of the shop. You pinched yourself to remind yourself this all was real. You had been struggling so much to make ends meet and losing Mr. Wron had affected the finances more than you’d care to admit. There was a bell at the door as the familiar god strode in. He went straight towards his spot as you opened and closed your mouth thinking about what you would say. You went towards him hesitantly as he looked through the shelves for yet another book. Your heart was already jumping up and down at a miraculous pace.

“Mr. Loki-“

“Just Loki, please. I never quite understood midguardian terms of reverence.” He said as you nodded.

“Loki. You didn’t have to. I was-“ you started as he turned towards you.

“This is the most bearable shops in this place. I wanted to.” He said as you just hugged him tightly. You had been relieved so much by the news and couldn’t. He smelled of mint and spice. You sighed, feeling yourself relax.

“Thank you so so much. This shop means the world to me and I don’t know if I could repay you.” You mumbled as Loki stood frozen. He cleared his throat.

“You could by not squeezing the air out of me.” He said as you shook yourself, pulling back at once. Loki didn’t seem to like the loss of contact.

“Thank you.” You said one last time, before scurrying off. You knew he liked to be left alone.

Loki looked at your retreating figure. He hadn’t expected you to be so humble. A small smile overtook his features. No-one here had ever talked to him like he was normal, and you’d always done that. Defending him from the man who helped your shop grow? It had warmed his heart. Perhaps not everyone on this planet was selfish.

***

Loki frowned at the small parcel you held before him.

“I really wanted to thank you. I know it’s not much. But, really, I could not be more grateful. I’ve been told I’m quite good at baking so…” You said handing him the packet. He took it cautiously peering inside to find a small cake box containing brownies and a black leather bound diary and a sleek pen. Exactly how he liked his stationery. He gulped before looking at you again.

“Thank you for this generous present (Y/n).” he said softly as your eyes widened a little. Your heart fluttered at the way it sounded coming from him.

“You know my name?” you asked as the god rolled his eyes.

“I hear it being shouted by all kinds of customers who come here. And you’re quite a lady” He said as you tried hard not to blush more.

“I’ll go then.” You said in a squeaky voice, leaving. Loki tried hard not to slap himself. You’re quite a lady?

***

Something shifted after that. Silence turned into small talks and eventually actual conversations. It was mostly you who talked, him who listened. You always felt like you would bore him but he held on to each of your word. When you would ask him about his, he would usually tell something about ‘useless’ missions and Stark and the other avengers. You would lightly smile at it thinking how different your two worlds were, yet Loki made it seem like nothing. Very rarely he would tell you about Asgard, you’d be patient so as to not push him. He would tell you how his mother taught him magic. You always looked at him in awe of how he held himself, how many stories he had to share.

You took him to the café next door to have him try coffee and other delights. He had raised an eyebrow at the drink and had commented something about Midgaurdians needed energy boosts all the time as you’d rolled your eyes. You, for a fact knew that he quite loved baked goods. Still, you kept going out to the minimum because of the number of stares you’d get from people who would point at the two of you. You understood his decision of staying cooped up in a far corner. You’d bring him lunch along with yours, a thing that touched him to the core. You would often bake him cookies, knowing how much he loved them.

You yawned adding some last shades to your drawing. Vishnu: the hindu god of life. You had been studying Indian art for quite some time and were mesmerized.  You had to try it yourself. There was a cough as you looked up to see Loki standing at the desk awkwardly.

“I’ve finished the collection there and am quite bored to start a new one. Why don’t you entertain me by showing me your art? I’ve seen you working on it far too many times.” He said as you stifled a giggle.

“I would hardly call my art entertaining.” You teased as he rolled his eyes. You bit your lip. You weren’t a great fan of showcasing your art but something told you, showing Loki wouldn’t be so bad. You handed him the book carefully, your heart thumping as he looked at each passing piece.

“You have quite a talent.” He whispered looking at the latest work. You flushed.

“My mother taught me how to draw. She was a great artist herself.” You said as something flicked in his eyes.

You looked at him as he smiled. You knew it was genuine. It wasn’t the smirk he gave people.

“I would love to draw you.” You blurted, not being able to help yourself. Loki’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Me?” he said as you nodded.

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

***

Loki sat in a visible couch for the next few days so you could see him easily. As you drew him slowly, you wondered whether it was an excuse to blatantly stare at him. He was beautiful, there was no doubt in that. Black, dark locks licking his cheekbones which were as sharp as a knife. Pink soft looking lips, and pale skin. He was soft yet cutting at the same time. But his eyes were what had captured you the most. You flushed as he looked at you.

Loki had found it difficult to concentrate on his book when you studies him like that. He tried not to let a pink blush cover his cheeks to match the fluttering of his heart. Loki looked at you wrapping up.

A few strokes and it was done. You sighed looking at your final work. A pathetic attempt at capturing something so real and full of emotions. You saw Loki coming towards you and felt nervous again. He would want to see it. You had not let him even glance at the unfinished work no matter how much he tried or pouted. It had proven to be difficult. You just handed him the book, before finally having the courage to look at him. He stared at it with an un-readable expression. Your mind was numb imaging all the things he might be thinking.

“It’s beautiful.” He whispered at last looking at you as you felt all air leave your lungs. You didn’t know what got over you. You moved up and pressed your lips against his, pulling back quickly, realizing what you were doing. You looked at Loki with pleading eyes wishing you didn’t push him away. Loki cupped your cheek with his hand and pulled to kiss you again. His lips devoured you as you felt your mind zoom. All the emotions raging you for months coming out all together. It was like you were on fire. You pulled back to breathe, pressing your forehead against his chest. He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer.

“Are you sure you want this, love?” He whispered as you wrapped your hands around him looking at him. He stared at you so softly, you felt like you could melt.

“I cannot wish for anything better.” You whispered back.

A/N: Ahahaha my very first Loki fic and it’s pure fluff! Tell me what you think!

[jj-scottsbee]

Siblings

   Prompt: You are the youngest and only daughter of Odin, and you are more of a handful than the God of Thunder and Mischief combined.

Warnings: Violence, language

 You were the Goddess of Chaos, everywhere you went you began some kind of trouble. Much of the time even when you tried your best to keep your powers under control, chaos still followed. You were a mix between both your older brothers, you had the heart of Thor, but the mischievous mind of Loki. You inherited both of your brother's good looks and were about as strong as Thor himself. As you often get yourself into trouble, you could either talk or fight your way out of it. You loved both your parents very much, but as Loki did, you favored Frigga over Odin much of the time. Frigga did her best to understand your chaotic nature, whereas Odin punished before he would even try to understand the reasoning behind your actions. Your brothers did their best to help you control your powers, though you would often lose control due to your large temper. Your temper could be small, but it could also outmatch your older brother's and Father's combined.  

 "I have had enough of your games!" Screamed Odin, looking down as you stood at the bottom of his throne. Thor stood to the right of you, along with Loki both glaring at you in disappointment. You stared at the floor, feeling the god's eyes burn into you. 

 For the third time this month, he was yelling at you for your actions. You had been wandering the training grounds when you had been startled, letting your powers go and causing an all-out war between guards, trainees, and the Warriors Three, which included your brother Thor. Frigga and Loki were the ones who had to snap everyone out of the spell you had put them under, as you stood frozen in your spot not knowing how to stop what you had begun.  

 "Father I did not mea-" You tried to argue, but were quickly cut off by Odin's booming voice. You flinched as he yelled, a small surge of your powers traveling through your veins. You were a young goddess and not in full control of your powers yet, though being the daughter of Odin, you were expected to have mastered them by now. The only person who realized your troubles was your mother, Frigga. She knew you were doing your best to control them and were still learning how to wield them, though your emotions were still too strong for you to control the gift which had been bestowed upon you. 

 "SILENCE. I have had enough of your excuses, you have caused fights and chaos everywhere you go. You cause war in other realms and petty fights between loyal Asgardians. You must learn to control your powers or they will surely be taken from you. You act as if you are not of my flesh and blood."

 "I have been working on it," You continued to argue, but again your answer did not satisfy your Father or your brothers. 

 "Oh, please. I had my power mastered before you even showed signs of yours." Thor scoffed with an eye roll, earning a cold look from Loki. As annoying as it was for Loki to clean up your uncontrolled messes, he still cared for you dearly and understood your troubles. It took much effort and countless hours practicing to master his magic. 

 "I should chain you up and have you thrown in the deepest cell on Asgard until you learn what control is..." Odin trailed off, everyone's eyes widened. As upset as Thor was at you, he did not wish to see you suffer. You stared at Odin with disbelief, Frigga snapped her head towards her husband ready to argue, Loki doing the same. "But, I will not. You will learn the meaning of control. You are an embarrassment to this family and, if you cannot control what you have, then you will no longer have what was given." 

 "Yes, Odin." You said pain hidden in your calm tone, though your brothers and Mother could hear it, clear as day.

Odin had released everyone from the family meeting, sending you to your room. As soon as he gave permission, you quickly turned your back to him and swiftly made your way to your room. You planned on shutting yourself in there for the rest of the day, not wanting to deal with anyone else. You quickly made your way through your huge home, ignoring everything around you. You're anger was eating you from the inside out, your power surged through your veins begging you to let it go, to let it live. You clenched your jaw, as all Odin's insults flew through your mind. 

 "You're an embarrassment." 

"You act as though you are not of my flesh and blood." 

"You should be chained up." 

 Your hands balled into fists, your breathing grew heavy with rage, and your footstep became even quicker as you rushed to your room. When you finally reached your door, you flicked your wrist flinging your bedroom door open, it flew back into the wall hard, the handle putting a hole in the wall where it had connected. You then swung your arm behind you, slamming it shut, a loud bang echoed throughout the hallway of where your bedroom sat. You came to an abrupt stop in the middle of your room, your mind was racing. Your anger burned within you, you looked around frantically to figure out what to do to release the rage you felt in your now boiling blood. You spun in circles trying to figure out what to do, you needed to do something, anything to let your emotions out. You had taken too long, feeling your power reach its boiling point, you grabbed a fistful of your hair in each of your hands, squeezing as hard as you could. You let out a blood-curdling scream of anger and rage, your power radiated from your entire body, your vision had gone, blinded by the intense anger you felt. As you did your best to release your anger, you began to send random objects flying across your room, you caused your wardrobe to tip over, your vanity mirror cracked and you windows which overlooked the kingdom's garden shattered. 

 Your screams stopped, your nostrils heaving as you began to finally relax. Your vision had returned and you slowly removed the tight grip that you had held on your hair, as you surveyed your room. There was broken glass everywhere, your curtains waved softly from the calm breeze that pushed through the shattered windows. You turned your head towards your large wardrobe, it now laid on its belly, a large crack down the back of it, and the mirror of your vanity was cracked into 6 different pieces. You looked at your bed which seemed to be untouched, besides the small family portrait that Thor had, had a famous Midgaridan artist paint for you for your recent birthday. The only person in the photo who had been touched by your power was Odin, he had a tear that ran down the middle of his whole body.

 As you stared at the Midgardian painting, dark thoughts began to engulf your mind. 

- - -

 Within seconds of entering the Bifrost, your feet once again hit the solid ground as you landed in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. You slowly took in your surroundings, your body calming itself from the quick trip. Fear and hesitation took over your mind as you realized what you had done, fighting with Heimdall to let you leave Asgard, deceiving your family. As quickly as those thoughts came, they left your mind even faster. Your fearful expression turned into an evil smile, you let out a small pride-filled laugh as you realized you were actually on Midgard. You were in the realm that Thor loved so deeply, the realm that Odin seemed so overprotective of as well. 

 You slowly made your way out of the warehouse and into an alleyway, you wore a tight, black velvet dress. The sleeves ran down both your arms, coming to a pointed end in the middle of the backside of each hand. The bottom of your dress was flowing and held two slits on both of your legs that traveled up from the ground to just beneath your hip. On top of your head, you wore a simple, crown that sat as a headband over your head. It was black, wrapping around your head as is they were sharp thorns twisting together, both ends coming to meet in the center of your forehead where a golden triangle faced downward. 

 As you exited the alley, many eyes fell on you. You were quite the sight in the busy streets of New York City. You took your surroundings in with awe but slightly pouted as you planned to level the city. If Odin wished to see chaos, then that is what he shall see. You were pulled from your gazing as a hard shoulder connected with your breast, a gruff voice following. 

 "Watch where the fuck you're going bitch." growled the man that had run into you, your starstruck expression changing. Your eyes connected with the rude mortal's and within seconds, he stood convulsing in pain, blood dripping from his eyes, mouth, ears, and nose. You watched as he fell to the ground, the scream of the hundreds of witnesses around you only egging you on. Your stared became even more intense as the man screeched in pain, within a minute he had fallen over, his life squeezed from his body. You smiled at the ecstasy you had felt from letting your powers run wild.

 Quickly you turned your attention away from the dead man that now lay in the middle of the sidewalk, and towards the abandoned warehouse that you exited just moments earlier. You raised your hand to about shoulder height, your palm facing the sky, quickly making your hand into a fist, you watched as the building cracked. It slowly began to fall apart, turning into nothing but rubble. The mortals ran in fear, many exited their cars as they had nowhere to go. You watched as they fled from you in fear, their emotions feeding your destruction. You walked tall towards the street, with a flick of your wrist you would send cars flying into buildings, people into windows, and put cracks in the foundations of buildings and the streets. 

 Just as you made another building collapse, a shield came flying at you. You were quick to spin towards the object, catching it in in your left hand as you searched for its owner. Steve came flying over a car, trying to tackle you. He missed, as you moved from his path with ease, you watched with amusement as he regained his balance. The fight gave you energy, the chaos that happened around you, fed your need for destruction. 

Steve lunged at you quickly, throwing punch after punch. You threw the shield away from you and began to block each hit, laughing excitedly as you were finally having some real fun. You soon grew bored of the fight and with the slight nod of your head, you threw the blonde man away from you. Turning around you were met by a blast of heat, it stung your abdomen, but caused no severe damage. You were met with another member of the Avenger's, Iron Man. You glanced at your singed dress and then back at Tony, a small snarl coming from your lips. You plunged your hand up towards his suit, dragging him towards you without touching him. You closed your fist around his neck and drove his back into the ground. As you straightened up you gave one last stomp on his chest, but before you could land your possibly fatal blow, you felt a kick in the middle of your back. It did not faze you much, but it had gotten your attention. As you spun to meet your attacker, you were happily surprised to see a red-headed woman. You smirked as you looked her up and down, she was strong. 

 "Finally, an opponent that won't disappoint." You smiled devilishly as you and Natasha circled each other. Just as you lunged for her, she yelled 'now' signaling Clint to let an army of explosive arrows go towards your head. Natasha ducked behind a flipped car, as she expected the arrows to hit you spot on. 

 You watched her run, holding your arm out to your side, easily stopping the arrows. You split the group into three, sending some back towards Clint, some at Tony, and aimed the rest at Steve who was struggling to get at you again. 

 "Why must you ruin the fun," You grunted as you threw her against the wall of a building. You quickly worked with the wall of the building softening it until it swallowed everything but Natasha's head. You did not wish to kill her, though she had not fought fairly, you admired her skills. You left her there continuing down the street but were again stopped as a giant green man landed in front of you. He let out an awful roar at you, you grew annoyed with him very quickly. You cocked your head looking at him, he went grab you, but you caught his large wrist with one hand. You brought your other hand around the same wrist and began to spin. You reached just enough momentum for you to let the green beast go and send him flying through another couple of buildings. 

 "Hey, lady that's not cool." Came a young voice from above you, you quickly caught a glance of the hero known as Spiderman. You were quickly covered in sticky, white, webs. You looked at your dress that had once been pitch black, now covered in white webs. You let out an aggravated yelled, timing it just right as your legs shoved you off the ground. You grabbed Peter mid-air tackling him onto a roof. You threw him away from you and smiled amused as he tried to scramble back to his feet, trying to flee from you. You grabbed him by the back of his neck, bringing him to face you. With one swift move, you ripped the mask from his face, your heart shattering as you saw how young he was. "Please don't break me." 

 "I won't break you unless you deserve to be broken." Your voice deepened several octaves, hoping to scare the boy away from the fight. You did not want him getting hurt and you could smell the courage that radiated off of him, knowing he would not leave this fight willingly. 

 "Sister put him down!" came the thunderous voice of Thor, you rolled your eyes sneering as you set Peter back on his feet and turned towards your big brother. "What have you done." 

 "I am the Goddess of Chaos, you and Father scold me for doing what I was made to do. You wish to control chaos, CHAOS IS NOT SOMETHING TO CONTROL." You screamed the last part as you brought a car from below, hurling it at your older brother. He stopped it with ease, ripping it in two as he walked towards you. 

 "Y/N I am warning you, stop your tantrum now. No harm will come to you if you stop now." Thor threatened as the two of you stood off against each other. Your chest heaved as you took in deep breaths, the anger only burning even more intensely inside of you. The sky darkened around you two, both your's and Thor's emotions feeding the storm. 

 "You have pushed me for so long to control myself, you ask me to control that of which is not meant to be controlled. Do not speak to me as if I am only a child, I am a goddess. I am-" 

 "You are our sister. We are not your enemy." Loki's soft voice interrupted you, "Y/N I know of the struggles you are having not only with our brother and Father but the troubles that lie within yourself." You now stood in between both Thor and Loki, you carefully snapped your head back and forth not wishing to remove your eyes from either. You argued with yourself about who you needed to be watching. Anger, confusion, and pain that had been trapped within you for so long were slowly hitting its boiling point, the environment around you showing your feelings. The sky almost pitch black, thunder roared throughout the clouds, rain dropped quickly across the city. Your hair soaked as you struggled with yourself. 

 "You know nothing of me." You growled, in a blink of an eye you thrust each of your arms out in the opposite directions sending both your older brother's flying from the roof of which you stood. In the blink of an eye, you were gone, your mess of destruction left for the other's to deal with. 

 After that day, no one had heard from you or seen you. You had simply disappeared, no matter how hard your brothers searched for you, the spells Loki would use to track you, the people Thor had called to help him, none of it was any help. None of your family knew if you were alive or dead, your disappearance causing many more problems within your family. Everyone felt guilty, everyone knew they should have done better. Loki had seen you struggling but believed you could get through it on your own. Thor was only so hard on you, so you would reach your full potential. Odin, simply wanted you to be an amazing goddess and Frigga blamed herself for not helping you more. 

 You were free now. 

[zeldanoel]

Precious Things - Bagginshield

Started writing this because I was sad after watching the Hobbit movies last week haha, then I accidently 5,500 words. Also on my ao3 here.

Thorin had exhausted himself digging through gold coins that stank of dragon. He was pale, and his blue eyes, which Bilbo had at least once thought beautiful, were bloodshot and full of a gleaming darkness like the hoard itself. Bilbo found him early one morning sitting on one of the enormous staircases. Thorin's back was to him, and he sat very still, looking off slightly to his left. An ocean of gold sat below him. "Thorin," Bilbo said, and Thorin's head turned slightly, but not enough to look at him. "Did you get any sleep?" "It's not yet night," was Thorin's cold reply. "It was hours ago, when I told you. Remember? And now it's already morning and you--" Bilbo gave a worried sigh and sat down next to him. "Aren't you tired? Thorin." Thorin blinked and looked at Bilbo. His eyes lost a little of their crazed edge. "I am," he admitted, almost smiling, and looked back over the hoard below. The momentary light in his face faded. "But I cannot rest until my kingdom is secure." "But you can," Bilbo said, trying not to let too much desperation creep into his voice. He turned himself more towards him. "And your kingdom is secure. Please. If… if my friendship could be worth a few hours rest, do it for my sake if nothing else." Bilbo tried to smile as Thorin looked at him at that with slightly hazy confusion. "For your sake?" His eyes were almost clearing. He turned more towards Bilbo. "This is all you would ask of me, Master Baggins?"

"And a good meal, if you can stomach it," he replied cautiously. Thorin reached out and squeezed Bilbo's shoulder, his eyes shining now only with tears. Then he leaned down and rested his forehead on Bilbo's other shoulder. His voice when he then spoke seemed to rumble directly into Bilbo's core, making his heart clench and his stomach flip. "Of all the treasures now under this mountain," Thorin said softly, "you are one of the most precious, Bilbo." Bilbo's insides froze painfully. He couldn't smell Thorin, there was only smoke and metal and something inherently dragon-like. Bilbo reached up and touched Thorin's shoulder, almost expecting to feel scales. But no, there were thick layers of cloth. And when Thorin turned his head slightly in response to his touch, the skin of his forehead brushed Bilbo's neck, warm to the point of being feverish. "I don't know if I can find rest," Thorin said softly. "I'll do what I can to help," Bilbo replied.

Bilbo led him up the many stairs to the bedchambers. The one that Thorin had chosen wasn't his original one, but his grandfather's. The king's. The bedpost itself was gold, as were many of the other objects therein. But Bilbo didn't lead him into there, but into Thorin's old room. Thorin had only been through it once since the dragon had left--to sweep up any childhood treasures and valuables and dump them in a heap at the foot of the king's bed. As a result this room was somewhat sparse, drawing light from only the fireplace. It had a strange hominess to it, or maybe it was that old sense of familiarity. My room. Bilbo's old coat was already thrown across the armchair. "Were you in here before?" Thorin asked suspiciously. "I've, uh, slept in here the past few nights," Bilbo said apologetically, "I hope you don't mind." "No," he said honestly. The thought instead warmed him with affection. Bilbo turned down the bedcovers as Thorin shed his outer layers of clothing. "Can I get you anything?" Bilbo asked awkwardly, "oh, maybe some water--" he started for the door. "No!" Thorin said quickly, holding out a hand as though to stop him. "Will you stay with me, instead?" Bilbo blinked at him. His eyes flickered to the bed, and back. "I…? With…?" He gestured a little, but quickly accepted that Thorin really did mean for him to stay in the bed. "Sure. Sure, of course." Tired as he was, Thorin had forgotten momentarily that Bilbo had better manners than a dwarf. A dwarf, if he were uncomfortable, would have refused and perhaps sought a compromise, like sitting in the same room. But Bilbo simply set his blue coat and vest carefully on the armchair by his red one, crossed the room, and crawled into bed next to Thorin. It was like the hobbit radiated an aura of protection and peace for Thorin. Bilbo's presence meant something was going right. Bilbo lay on his back, tucked under the furs and stiffly staring at the ceiling. Thorin was on his side, waiting for the waves of anxiety to completely wash away. "Thank you," Thorin said. He rested his hand on the mattress between them. Bilbo looked over, turned onto his side to face him, and took his hand. "Just sleep," Bilbo said. His little hand disappeared in Thorin's. "One day," Thorin whispered, "I'll be the one to protect you."

-- “I am so sorry,” Thorin managed to say, “that I have led you into such peril…” his voice sounded far away, even to himself. He could barely hear when Bilbo spoke. “No, no, I am glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them.” Bilbo leaned down and quickly pressed his lips against Thorin’s. Soft and warm--not sensations Thorin would have thought to feel on this wintery peak, with so much of his body torn and bleeding. Bilbo broke back a hair’s breadth. “Please live, Thorin. You have so much to live for.” Thorin blinked at him, dazed. “More… than I knew,” he rasped. Bilbo’s eyes, dark and kind, stared earnestly into his. They were all Thorin could see. He wished he could see, just one more time, Bilbo’s hair golden with sunlight. The sun would shine on him again, without Thorin. He had to be happy without Thorin. He had to go home. “Farewell, Amralime,” Thorin managed to say. “Go back to your books and your armchair. Plant your trees, watch them grow. If more people valued home above gold, this world would be a… merrier place.” Even Bilbo’s touch was fading. If only Thorin had just a little more time, he could say more. He could sit with Bilbo under a kindly tree, and learn from him how to find peace. That image felt suddenly quite powerful to him. If Bilbo would stay by his side for just a little while longer… if Thorin could learn from him… “Keep hold…” Thorin whispered, “of my hand.” Thorin’s fingers were all but numb, but there was a pressure against them. “I won’t let go,” Bilbo said. “Stay with me, Thorin. Gandalf!” Thorin closed his eyes. A moment ago, death had been sure. But whether unconsciousness now took him for death or sleep, he had no power to fight against it.

His chest ached, burning with a stab wound. Other places he could feel in his body had been slashed. His entire being ached, no strength left in him to even raise his head. But he could hear things. Voices… was that Bilbo’s voice? He clung to the sound, and almost as soon as he did, it stopped so someone else could speak. Bilbo, he thought desperately, trying to get his mouth to form the words. “Thorin? Thorin, can you hear me?” He was drained. His stomach was sick. His eyes, heavier than lead, slowly opened. Bilbo was standing over him. The canvas ceiling of a tent was above them. Bilbo’s face was clean, perhaps some time had passed. Thorin’s hand twitched, searching for Bilbo’s. “You’re okay, Thorin, you’re going to live, just like I told you.” he smiled as though that would disguise his obvious worry. Thorin could only stare. “Stay,” he breathed out. Bilbo’s face broke. He took Thorin’s hand and held it against his lips. “I’ll stay. I promise.” Good. Thorin’s eyes dropped closed.

He woke again with an empty hand, and slowly opened his eyes. If only his throat weren’t so dry, he could-- He coughed, and pain stopped his breath. There was something wrong, of course there was something wrong, he’d been stabbed through the chest, maybe one of his lungs wasn’t working, he couldn’t breathe. “Thorin! Thorin, just breathe!” He turned panicked eyes to the hobbit at his bedside. Bilbo started propping him up, someone on the other side of him was helping. Tears sprang to Thorin’s eyes. The coughing wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t draw breath-- “Thorin, you can do this. Breathe in. Please.” He took a breath. In his ears it sounded like a death rattle. His next cough cleared his lungs and shot pains through his torso. He whimpered. “Come on, do it again.” Slowly, each breath became easier than the last. “Okay. We’re going to have you drink something now.” That was a dwarf’s voice. He couldn’t give it enough attention to determine which of his company it was. Thorin kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, willing himself not to pass out as they brought a meaty broth to his lips and he drank. They laid him back down. Bilbo took his hand again, watching him anxiously. “It’s no good,” Thorin said hoarsely. “Should’ve… left me.” He felt a tear trace out of his eye. “How could I have?” Bilbo asked fervently. He reached down with his free hand and touched Thorin’s cheek, brushing the tear away. “I couldn’t.” He withdrew his hand and squeezed Thorin’s. “Don’t worry about that now. We’re here now. Just stay with me.” Thorin wondered if he could.

He was running through a forest, a dark one where huge gray branches seemed to grope at him, snagging against his white coat. He had to find a way out. That's what he was searching for, right? He reached a stream. The water in it smelled terrible and stagnant, and moved sluggishly. And Bilbo stood on the other side. A shadow loomed over his shoulder, wielding a shortbow. The shadow aimed at him. Then the dream shifted rapidly. He was the stag, then the hunter aiming at the white stag, and then he was aiming at Bilbo, right between the eyes. No, he had Bilbo gripped by the front of the shirt, lifting him off his feet. You shouldn't have done that, it's bad luck. No one was stopping him. He was throwing Bilbo headfirst off the ramparts. Shouldn't have done that. Bilbo was falling. Thorin had to wake up. If Bilbo hit the ground, he'd be dead. Shouldn't have-- Thorin shouted, and was immediately pulled back into his body. His back was arching on the cot, fire spread across his chest. "Thorin, no!" Bilbo's voice. Bilbo! Thorin reached for him, grabbing for any part he could reach. He ended up with a fistful of Bilbo's coat. Bilbo gripped his shoulders, a weak attempt to keep him down. "Bilbo," Thorin gasped. "Bilbo--you--" he was alive. He was fine. "I'm here, Thorin. You're fine." Thorin breathed hard, wounds stinging. He focused in on Bilbo's worried face. Thorin took a few more breaths, trying to calm down and get rid of his sudden dizziness. He could still feel the dream, how it had been his hands that had nearly slain his friend. "It's okay, Thorin," Bilbo whispered. "You're okay." Thorin heaved another breath and released him, turning his face away. "Fili and Kili," he said hoarsely, turning back to him. "Kili is stable, thanks to Tauriel." Bilbo gestured across the room. Who…? Oh, the elf with the red hair. "And Fili?" Thorin whispered desperately. Bilbo opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "He didn't make it." Thorin closed his eyes, breathing through his teeth. "Shouldn't have sent them in." "Thorin, it's not your fault. It's… it was battle, and you did the best you could." Thorin took in a breath and slowly released it. "Did Dain survive?" "Yes. Just a bit bruised." "I need to talk to him." "I--now?" Thorin grunted in affirmation. Bilbo, casting him more unsure glances, left the tent. Thorin finally got a look down at himself. His chest was tightly wrapped, and a few other places as well, like his foot. He could feel his heartbeat pounding against his wounds with a painful ache. Other than that he wore only his breeches and a thick wool blanket that had started to slide off. Achingly, he turned his head to look across the room. There was a cot there, and a table in between that obscured the top half of Kili's face. The lower half, and Kili's skin, was pale, and his chest rose and fell in brief, shallow breaths. He watched him for a long moment, willing his own life force to go into Kili. Stomping boots against stone sounded, and Dain threw open the tent flap. Thorin caught a brief glimpse of the dark walls of Erebor behind him before he strode in, Bilbo close behind. Thorin briefly raised his hand so Dain could grasp it. "Thorin," Dain said fervently, grasping his hand and kneeling by his bedside, "you have no idea how glad I am to see you awake." "How is everyone?" Thorin asked, "and how long was I out?" "Near 10 days. We've accepted the Laketown refugees into the Halls for safety. The treasure's been moved to the lower levels. Thranduil has sent most of his army back, but remains with a small retinue. I've done the same, but the Iron Hills aren't far if we should suffer a second attack, and we're keeping scouts out." Thorin sighed with relief. "You've done well. Thank you." He squeezed his hand weakly. Dain only nodded, smiling beneath his beard. With difficulty, Thorin finally spoke. "I'm going to abdicate." Dain's eyes widened. "Thorin, no!" "It's better this way. Once Kili is ready, I would have him be King Under the Mountain. Until then, Erebor needs you. Will you accept?" Dain shook his head. "No, Thorin, it isn't right--" "Please," Thorin whispered. "You're the one who took back Erebor!" "For myself. I have to give it up. It nearly… I nearly…" his eyes went to Bilbo, who still stood near the tent flap, dark eyes wide. "I have to stay away, Dain. For the good of our people." Dain was still shaking his head, face screwed up as though in pain. "Would you have me beg?" Thorin asked quietly. Dain frowned at their clenched hands. "No, sire. And until you've formally abdicated, you are my king. And I will do as you command. By the time Kili comes of age, Erebor will be as great as it ever was." A weight seemed to lift off of Thorin's chest, and he smiled. "Thank you. I will soon be strong enough to give my abdication before witnesses." He closed his eyes, exhausted from the effort of speaking. Dain pressed a hairy kiss to his hand and gently set the hand down. "Take care of him, Master Bilbo," he heard Dain mutter. "I will, thank you." He hadn't thought he'd fallen asleep, but when he opened his eyes Oin was there and Bilbo gone.

-- It took many weeks before Thorin finally regained enough energy to be restless. He and Kili both slept a great deal, as though every day they had battled hard. Oin, Bilbo, and Tauriel were in the tent the most, but every member of the company had occasion to stop by, and Thorin found himself apologizing to every one of them and refused to budge on his decision to abdicate. Only Balin didn’t push him to reverse his decision. The old dwarf simply watched him for a long moment, then nodded. Thorin’s heart sank a little. He’d almost let himself be persuaded by the others. “You do think it wise, then?” Balin took his hand reassuringly. “Sometimes it is wisdom to take yourself away from temptation. And I… wish I could take my personal feelings out of this, or erase for you what happened those weeks while we searched for the Arkenstone. I can see it has broken you. I wish to see you healed. And Erebor is the wrong place for that.” Thorin’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s the right place?” “Well.” Balin’s eyes twinkled a little, like he had thought of something. “Somewhere peaceful, I suppose, where gold has no hold over the hearts of the people.” He squeezed his hand. “Somewhere where it doesn’t matter if you could have been king. Where you can take pride in not the circumstances of your birth, but the work of your hands.” Thorin chuckled, and his diaphragm seared with pain. He hissed, then looked back to Balin with a subdued smile. “It sounds like you already have a place in mind.” “Hmph. If you want recommendations, you should talk to Bilbo.” Balin patted his hand and sat back. “In any case, there are plenty of wars still to be fought, if you’ll have them.” “Moria,” Thorin said distantly. In his mind’s eye he could see Azog holding aloft a graying dwarvish head. He grimaced. The thought used to fill him mainly with righteous anger--now it made him sick and full of grief.

Thorin abdicated as soon as he could sit up to sign the documents in front of witnesses. He had a face of stone the entire time and spoke little. Kili had temporarily taken a turn for the worse and wasn't present. Bilbo did his best not to hover anxiously over Thorin. Thorin barely met anyone's eyes. Once the documents were signed, he nodded at Dain and sat back in his wheelchair, pale and grim. Bilbo started wheeling him back to his sick tent. They had to take a roundabout path away from the council chamber. "Wait," Thorin said at one of the intersections. He pointed to the left corridor. "Take me that way." "Thorin, I specifically memorized this route and if we leave it I'm going to be lost," Bilbo said to the back of his head. Thorin turned his head just a little. "You won't. Not while you're with me." Bilbo sighed and turned the chair to the left. The corridor soon opened up into one of the forge chambers, although this one had some slightly different equipment, long pipes like spears that Bilbo hadn't seen before. Thorin directed him across the room into an archway. Beyond the archway lay a dark room. Bilbo quickly lit the torch by the door with the box of matches he'd learned to always carry around, and once that was lit, the complicated lighting system that the dwarves had established throughout Erebor was ignited, filling the room with dim warm light. The room was full of colored glass: orbs and creatures and ribbons and prisms, many of them small and displayed on rusting shelves. Overhead were complicated light fixtures--many of them, like this was a storage room. "Erebor was the home of many crafts," Thorin said. Bilbo rounded his chair to stand next to him, hand resting lightly on his forearm. "Glass is not as expensive as jewels or gold, and it's more fragile. I'm pleased to see that Smaug didn't touch it." Thorin looked around the room, his face more lost than pleased. Then he nodded. "That's all, Master Baggins. We can return to your route." "I--that's all?" Bilbo said. "You don't want to look at any of them more closely?" "You may return later if you wish, Bilbo," Thorin said. His face had clouded over, preoccupied. "This place isn't for me." "I…" Bilbo wished he could think of something to say. It would make sense if Thorin were simply tired. But it was more than that. A light in him had gone out. He looked around for inspiration and grabbed a figurine off the shelf. He knelt before Thorin and held it up before him. Thorin's cold blue eyes turned to it impassively. "Doesn't it remind you of Beorn?" Bilbo said with a little smile. He turned the little bear so it caught the light. Thorin sighed. "I don't think Beorn was blue." He touched Bilbo's hand and gently pushed it away. "I appreciate it, Bilbo. Perhaps we can come back another day. Today, it's…" he swallowed and looked away. "No, I, I understand," Bilbo got to his feet and tucked the little bear into his pocket. "It could help to talk about it? I'm only here to help you, Thorin." "You are too kind for your own good," Thorin said miserably. "I'm sorry for how I treated you." "No--one moment of weakness doesn't define our relationship, Thorin." "I should have seen the path that would have led me to that moment," Thorin said. He leaned over and grabbed a wheel, pulling on it to turn himself away from Bilbo. "It's not just you. I know I've made the right choice in abdicating--!" His voice broke into a sob. "But how do I go on? How can I live with myself, knowing that the moment I had the power I sought after all my life, I abused it and ruined everything? If I hadn't--maybe Fili--" "Shh--" Bilbo leaned over the back of the chair and hugged Thorin around the shoulders from behind. "There are so many maybes, Thorin. It's a miracle that you're alive, and Kili. We would be worse off if we had lost you. I--on Ravenhill, I knew that if I lost you there, I would be more alone than I ever have been. I would go home and leave you buried in the Lonely Mountain, but you would have haunted me, much worse than if I could have left you safe and alive." He briefly tightened his grip. "Thank you for holding on." Thorin's hand pressed against the side of Bilbo's head. "You're such a fool," he whispered fondly. He stroked his hair once, then dropped his hand back into his lap. Bilbo released him, sniffling. "I wouldn't mind coming back here for a better look on another day," Thorin said, clearing his throat. "But I'm ready now to rest." "Of course." Bilbo started pushing the chair, and on the way out lowered the little metal hood that snuffed out the torch. With a few gentle corrections from Thorin, they made it back to the healing tent.

When Thorin awoke, the tent was empty except for Kili, who was sitting up supported by pillows, flipping a small knife over and over in the air. Thorin sighed. "Glad to see you're feeling better," he rumbled. Kili frowned at him. "You should have woken me. I wanted to be there." "To see your throne secure?" Thorin teased. Kili's face grew dark, and he raised the knife. "I will use this." He lowered it. "I wanted to be there for you. I'm still upset you did it." "Dain will make a fine regent. Also, he can walk fairly well, I hear." "Don't give me that. You'll be on your feet soon enough." Thorin stared at the ceiling. "You've worried Bilbo, you know," Kili said. "He cares for you a great deal. Oin says he barely left your side while you were sick--" "Don't talk about Bilbo," Thorin said. "I don't--I don't know what to think of him. I… keep wishing I could give what little strength I have left to you, so you can grow strong and healthy, but I get the feeling that the only reason I have some strength at all is because of Bilbo." He blinked tears away. "He won't let me go, even though I'm only a shadow of myself. I have been ever since I laid eyes on that accursed gold. I want to go, Kili. Now that your future is secure, what else have I to live for?" Thorin finally looked over at Kili, who looked pale and alarmed. "Don't talk like that," Kili said, "don't think like that. You--told Bilbo you'd go back with him to see more glass figurines, didn't you? For Mahal's sake, Uncle, your life doesn't have to be some enormous quest! You can just be alive to collect moments of peace. You--eurgh--" Kili grimaced and put a hand against his chest, leaning back more heavily against his pillows. "Kili?" Thorin said, struggling to sit up. "Kili! Bilbo!" In a moment Bilbo was rushing into the tent. "Take deep breaths," he said, pressing on Kili's shoulders, "we need to keep your chest open. And you lay back down," he snapped at Thorin. He reached over and grabbed a jar of salve off the bedside table, opened it, and smothered some on the exposed skin on Kili's chest. The sharp smell of peppermint and eucalyptus filled the tent. Kili gasped in breaths and when Bilbo tried to take his hand from his chest, he gripped Bilbo's hand instead. After a minute or so his breathing became easier, and he released Bilbo's hand and relaxed against the pillows. "Sorry," Kili muttered. "Got upset with Thorin." "Thorin's upset enough with himself," Bilbo said gently, shooting him an apologetic smile, "you just worry about getting better and not re-collapsing that lung." Kili nodded stiffly. Color was coming back to his face. He sighed and closed his eyes. Once Kili seemed to be secure, Bilbo disappeared out the tent for a few minutes before returning with Tauriel, who without so much as a glance at Thorin hurried to Kili's bedside and took the stool there. She began gently chiding him, and Bilbo sat on Thorin's bed and patted his hand. "He wasn't too hard on you, was he?" Thorin snorted. "If he was I deserved it." Bilbo sighed and took Thorin's hand to press an affectionate kiss to his knuckles. Thorin's eyes widened in surprise, and his breath caught. Bilbo caught his reaction and quickly put his hand down, blushing. "I, I'll see you later," Bilbo said. "Leaving me alone with them?" Thorin said in a mock hurtful tone, looking pointedly at Kili and Tauriel. "Let that be your punishment for upsetting Kili," Bilbo said with mock sternness. "I'll go get lunch for us." After Bilbo left Thorin looked wonderingly at his own hand. What had Bilbo meant by that? Had he-- A sudden memory came to him, that Thorin had dismissed before as a dream. Ravenhill--Had Bilbo really kissed him? He looked across the tent. Tauriel was leaning in close, whispering something that was making Kili's face light up with a rare grin. "Hey, you two," Thorin said grumpily. Tauriel immediately sat up, looking guilty. "Sorry, I--" "Uncle, we weren't, um…" Thorin waited, suddenly curious about what excuse they thought they had to give. He raised his eyebrows. But they quieted, waiting for him. "I was only going to ask," he said carefully, "whether you knew when Bilbo is planning to return to the Shire." The two exchanged looks. "No," Tauriel said innocently. "No idea," Kili put in, "perhaps you should ask him yourself? But I highly doubt he'd leave before he was sure you were stable." Thorin glared. "And why's that? Why shouldn't he feel free to leave?" "Well, he cares about you," Kili said. "If that much isn't obvious to you, then--" "Oh, of course it's obvious," Thorin snapped. "I just don't know what to do about it. Oh, nevermind." He turned onto his side, facing away from them, and tried not to eavesdrop. Thorin gripped the edge of his blanket, glaring at the material in his hand. In the end, he simply didn't deserve Bilbo's kindness, which made it vexing that Bilbo continued to show it. And that Thorin found himself relying on it like a lifeline. Everything about Bilbo made Thorin feel calmer. His practicality, goodness, straightforwardness, desire to make Thorin happier even on one of the worst days of his life. If Thorin were to continue living, he'd want Bilbo to be in that life. Slowly, paths were opening before him. He had to be better to Bilbo, see if the hobbit would accept him. If he didn't…? Thorin would find another reason to stay alive until the dwarves were ready to take back Moria. Then maybe he could get neatly killed in battle. Or not, and he'd look for another reason to keep going. It was too far to see ahead, too dim to know if he'd be able to find another reason. He hadn't meant to fall asleep again, but when he woke up he found a bowl of cold stew on his bedside table. Kili was asleep, snoring softly. Thorin bit back a groan as he sat up straight and ate his cold dinner. Right as he was finishing, Bilbo stumbled in, looking groggy and his curly hair in disarray. "Oh, good. Thorin. I thought I heard you, um, being awake." "Bilbo." Thorin set his bowl aside. "Sit down, I need to talk to you." Bilbo paused and squinted at him. "Please," Thorin tacked on as an afterthought. Bilbo sat down on the end of the cot, quickly rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Uh--yes. Yes?" "I… don't really remember well what happened on Ravenhill," Thorin said. "And what I think I remember might have been some dream, so I wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings between us." He looked very seriously at Bilbo, heart hammering with trepidation. Bilbo looked back, poker-faced. "Did you kiss me?" Thorin asked Bilbo blanched and looked like he was going to laugh it off. "I? Ki--pfft. Well, I mean, considering--listen." He looked Thorin in the face. "You were dying, Thorin. And I knew it was my last chance to tell you how I felt. Feel. And I…" he looked at his knees. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it, and ruined our friendship." Thorin's heart was bursting with delight and something like fear. He laughed a little, shaking his head. "And were you going to just keep it as a secret forever, hoping I'd forget?" "What, like how you were going to keep it to yourself that mithril armor is really only something a king would give to someone he intended to marry?" Thorin cringed. Bilbo wagged a finger. "Hmm, yeah, I've been talking to your company. Apparently you could buy an entire kingdom with this." He fished just under his collar to tug at the edge of the mithril. Knowing Bilbo still wore it despite knowing its value and meaning warmed Thorin's heart. Thorin settled back into his pillows, still mostly sitting up. "I'm glad I did one thing sort of right in those terrible weeks," he said with a fond smile. "I hope you keep it, and let it protect you on whatever adventures you have in the future." Bilbo frowned in surprise. "Well, I'm not leaving you," he said. "I don't mind keeping it, but I'm staying in Erebor." It was Thorin's turn to frown. "I'm not staying in Erebor." "Oh. You--? Where will you go?" "I was hoping you might have some suggestions. Balin thought I should go somewhere peaceful..." Bilbo's face cleared. He scooted up the cot so he could place a hand over Thorin's. "Come to the Shire," he said, "With me. You can stay with me for as long as you like, I won't ask you to stay a moment longer." Thorin took in a breath and nodded, hardly trusting himself to speak around the sudden tears that choked his throat. He slid his hand into Bilbo's. "We'll plant the seed from Beorn's garden," he whispered. Bilbo nodded, smiling. "Maybe get a bigger armchair, for you." Thorin took a shaky breath. "I want to apologize--" "Oh Thorin, you already--" "For all the things I'm going to do wrong. I never want to hurt you again, in any way, but I don't trust myself." He chuckled wetly. "You're taking on a handful of a dwarf." "I know!" Bilbo leaned in with a laugh. "I know. And I won't be perfect either. I like to think I have a gift for vexing you." Thorin leaned his head back and laughed at that, then grimaced, clutching his diaphragm. His wound throbbed. He sighed and smiled at Bilbo, who now looked worried. "Don't fret, Master Baggins. I have a feeling I will heal more quickly now." "I don't think that's how this works," Bilbo said, but a smile flickered across his face. "Oh?" Thorin drew Bilbo's hand up and kissed it. "And you're the expert on battle wounds?" Bilbo blushed. "I--yes, in fact, that is, I've spoken to a few experts, and…" Thorin kissed the inside of his wrist, watching his face. His blush deepened. His hand was trembling in Thorin's grasp. "And I… well, perhaps you're right. I don't know. Um." He met Thorin's eyes with a strange sort of yearning. Thorin lowered their hands, now blushing as well. If Bilbo wasn't ready, that was perfectly f-- Bilbo leaned forward and kissed Thorin. And Thorin felt that he would stay in the Shire for a long, long time.

[liannyeong]

Crimson (Chapter 11)

Summary: Jaebeom and Yujin attends the autumn festival hosted by the Air court.

Word count: 4390

Pairing: Jaebeom X OC

Warning(s): some fluff, some angst :o

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

A/N: Finally managed to put this up albeit late. D: Anyway, let me know what you think about this chapter! ^^ Show your support for my works by buying me a coffee! Follow me on Twitter for random updates.

Once again, Yujin stands before Jaebeom, in the fog. The fae is emotionless, just staring at her with his crimson eyes. He doesn’t even reach out to her, doesn’t even look at her with the usual fondness. 

"Jaebeom, can’t you see?” Yujin speaks first, holding up a finger. “My heart is already in your hands."

The Fire fae looks down, Yujin following suit. His right hand is stained, red liquid dripping onto the ground. Similar to the previous dream, there is a beating heart in his hold. As if curious, Jaebeom goes on to squeeze it. Immediately, Yujin doubles over, her fingers clutching at her chest, nails digging into the skin. Yet, Jaebeom seems the least affected. He spares her a glance, before clenching his fists tight, knuckles turning white. Visually, Yujin can see how the heart in his hand is further compressed, as if he’s wringing the laundry. Yujin’s knees buckle slightly before she collapses to the ground. She screams, the pain in her chest excruciating, tears streaming down her face. Despite that, Jaebeom doesn’t stop. It’s as if he’s blind to her pain, deaf to her screams. It’s as if he doesn’t care what’ll happen to her at all. His fingers continue to dig into the heart, until finally, it punctures through. Blood splatters everywhere, some droplets land on his face, onto the ground, some even reaching Yujin.

Yujin gasps for air, her breathing getting weaker by each passing second.

“Why…?” the female croaks out helplessly.

Jaebeom brings up his free hand. A ball of fire is produced on his palm -- larger than any he has ever conjured. The fire spreads up to his elbow, engulfing his entire left arm. The fae looks mesmerized by his new ability, turning his arm around, his eyes reflecting the light of the dancing fire. In the next moment, the flame dissipates completely.

Jaebeom glances down to the heart in his other hand, before darting his eyes back at Yujin. He holds it up, and fire ignites once more. This time, Yujin watches as the flame engulfs the heart, as the flame turns from orange to a deep blue, as the heart scorches in the heat. She watches as the muscle turns to ashes. Her vision goes out.

“Yujin, my love,” she hears a sweet voice calling her repeatedly. She feels someone shaking her body awake.

Opening her eyes, Jaebeom is already peering at her, his face contorted in worry. Her mind flashes the image of dream Jaebeom, and Yujin jolts up, nearly butting heads with the male.

“Relax, it’s just me,” Jaebeom soothes her, running a hand up and down her back. Then, he pulls her for a hug. “I’m here.”

Immediately, the tension in Yujin’s body vanishes, though tears are flowing down her cheeks.

“Jaebeom, you love me, right?” she mutters.

“Of course I do,” the male answers, tightening his arms around her. “You had a bad dream, that’s all. If the dream told you otherwise, then know that this Jaebeom has always loved you.”

Yujin nods slightly, burying her face into his chest. Despite the nightmares relating to Jaebeom, it’s only a dream. Why it occurs, Yujin doesn’t know. But perhaps, it stems from her insecurity that she’s nothing compared to the person Jaebeom holds dear. In the end, Jaebeom has assured her of his love, and Yujin finds comfort in that. 

Don’t you worry, Yujin tells her heart, Jaebeom loves us.

---

The day of the Air court autumn festival arrives in no time. Yujin wears a cream-colored wrap dress, personally designed by Bam. The dress is made of linen, but it flows beautifully whenever Yujin moves. The skirt reaches her ankles, and there is a slit at the side that exposes her left leg. Yujin finds it simple, nothing too eye-catching, but the couturier was confident that Yujin will outshine Yena. That Jaebeom will never take his eyes off her! Yujin had laughed it off then, had shaken her head in amusement.

But when she emerges from her room and meets Jaebeom at the bottom of the main staircase, it seems to her that Bam's words ring true. The male is staring at her in pure awe. He's wearing all black underneath the maroon overcoat. Part of his chest peeks through his satin shirt, the top few buttons left undone. Jaebeom has his hair slicked back neatly, exposing the beauty marks above his left eye.

"You look amazing," he exhales, as if he's catching his breath. His hand goes to her waist, fingertips lingering there.

"You look dashing too," Yujin returns. She tugs at his shirt and buttons it, except for the topmost one. "But that was too much. I don't want anyone else looking at you."

Jaebeom laughs. "Don't worry, my love. Only you get to see my all," he says, adding a wink.

"It better be," Yujin utters, pouting.

The male strokes her cheek, his eyes fond. He doesn't reply in words. Instead, he presses a kiss at the corner of her mouth.

“Shall we?” Jaebeom gestures to the front door, one hand sliding from Yujin's waist to the small of her back. 

Outside, a carriage is prepared for them, though there are no horses to pull it. A fae waits beside it, someone Yujin has never seen before. His eyes are white, indicating that he's an Air fae. Yujin reckons he's tasked to usher the couple to the Air court.

The fae opens the carriage door and Yujin climbs in first. The space inside appears small but when Jaebeom enters, the carriage seems to accomodate for the both of them. Still, they're pressed together, shoulders and knees knocking, even though there is a gap between Jaebeom and the door. Yujin bites down her smile, at the thought that Jaebeom wants to be close to her as much as possible.

When the door clicks shut, Jaebeom knocks at the roof with a pattern. In the next moment, Yujin feels a slight shake to the carriage before she hears a pop sound in her ears. The temperature has dropped and when Yujin exhales, a puff of air is released.

The door opens from outside and Jaebeom climbs out first. Yujin follows behind, popping her head out. The mansion is gone. What beholds in front of her is a huge palace, its walls are the dullest gray. Yujin recalls that the Air faefolks live in the mountains. There are low-lying clouds covering the pillars, almost hiding it away from view.

There isn't anyone around to receive them, that Yujin briefly wonders if they arrived early. Suddenly, a person dressed in a white robe appears in front of them. He has a hood on, the shadows underneath covering his face. He forms an incomplete circle with his hands before pushing it towards the couple. A gust of wind is produced. Then, the man ushers both Jaebeom and Yujin through the bushes, instead of going up the main stairs to the front door. They approach a wall of bricks and  Yujin watches with curious eyes as the man waves a hand across. The wall splits in the middle, sliding to the sides to reveal a tunnel. Yujin reckons this is the secret pathway that Jaebeom told her about. They hadn't meet any other fae since their arrival.

Only when the wall merges back did the mysterious man pull off his hood.

"Pardon me for not greeting you earlier," Youngjae places a hand to his chest out of respect, "I didn't want to risk being seen."

"But we didn't even cover our faces though?" Yujin asks, confused.

Youngjae laughs. "Well, I casted a spell on you, distorting the air around you and making you momentarily invisible."

"Woah," Yujin lets out in amazement.

"Follow me," the prince beckons, stepping onto a wooden plank that is large enough for the three of them. There are rods of metal at the sides. "You might want to hold on tight."

Jaebeom cages Yujin between his arms, his hands curled around the metal railings. "This is the fun part," he whispers to her ear.

Youngjae faces the back, and moves both his arms in a circular motion. The makeshift cart starts to move in the opposite direction slowly, before building up its speed. Jaebeom screams in pure joy, enjoying the ride. Yujin can't help but join him, a smile on her face as they move through the long tunnel.

It doesn't take long for them to arrive at the very end, though Yujin wonders how much longer it would take if they had walked. A spiral staircase is in sight and Yujin peers up. It's an endless flight of stairs, and if they have to climb all the way to the top, she reckons she'd pass out. Thankfully, they're saved from it because Youngjae exits through the door on the third floor.

They needed to navigate through a few more corridors before they finally reached the ballroom. Nevertheless, because they’re at the higher floors, they are practically invisible. At this position, they can oversee the mass of faefolk at the main ballroom. Interestingly, Yujin notices faes of all sizes and all elements in the crowd. She had always thought that the different elemental faefolk cannot bear the sight of each other. Perhaps they’re civil just for today.

Youngjae continues moving forward, not once batting an eye at the event below. There's a door at the end of the hallway, and as they come closer, there are voices on the other side. At this, Jaebeom takes Yujin's hand, their fingers interlocking. Youngjae knocks on the door before pushing it open. 

Before Yujin could even peer her head in, Jaebeom is sent backwards, their hands released. Yujin's surprised expression quickly turns to anger because it is Yena who has her arms around Jaebeom’s neck, legs off the floor. She can't fault Jaebeom for having his hand on the princess' back. He needed to keep them steady, but still, she can't help the jealousy bubbling in her chest.  

"You came!" Yena squeals.

“Princess Yena, behave. Is that how the future Queen carries herself?” says an air of authority.

Almost instantly, Yena detaches herself from Jaebeom, her face sulky.

“Queen Choi,” Jaebeom greets, kneeling before the owner of the voice.

Yujin stares. The queen is the embodiment of the white color. Everything on her body is white: her eyes, her long hair that nearly touches the floor, her pale skin that is akin to snow. Even her clothing is white! Looking between the queen and the princess, Yujin realizes that Yena bears a striking resemblance to her mother. They're almost identical, if not for the height.

“So,” the queen speaks, glancing at Yujin, “This is your… wife?”

Her voice is cold and distant, and it sobers Yujin up. She mimics the same movement Jaebeom did, though she hears a snicker from Yena. The queen scans Yujin up and down, as if evaluating her.

“Yes, my Queen, this is Yujin, my beloved,” Jaebeom answers, tugging the female close by the waist when she stands again.

“Lovely,” Queen Choi replies coolly. “I hope you'll enjoy the day today. There's lots of events you may want to check out, though I'm uncertain if it is to your wife's tastes."

Then, she hastily turns to the two siblings. “Come along, you two. We need to address the other guests." She exits the room, not sparing a second glance to the couple.

Yena has a sweet smile on her face when she turns to Jaebeom. “Don't leave until I get back," she says, "I'll see you later."

She trails behind the queen, but not before sending a glare at Yujin.

“You can watch us from the ballroom balcony,” Youngjae supplies kindly. “Our servant will tend to you if you need anything at all.”

---

Jaebeom and Yujin have been left alone on the ballroom balcony. The servant assigned to them was long dismissed by Jaebeom after setting up a table for them to dine. While the royal family stated that this event is to celebrate the arrival of autumn and the kinship between the different fae courts, Yujin finds that it is more geared towards showing off the strength of the Air court. They showcased a variety of talents and performances: dancing, singing, and martial arts. Being performers themselves, Youngjae and Yena put on a special performance themselves as the grand finale.

“How do you find it so far?” Jaebeom asks, leaning closer to Yujin. The cheers from the crowd are so loud that they need to talk over the noise.

“It’s fascinating,” Yujin answers honestly. “It’s my first anyway.”

The fae nods. “Yeah, you’ve been watching the stage intently from the beginning.”

“Oh?” Yujin lets out, darting her eyes to the male. Then she narrows her eyes. “Have you been watching me?”

The fae smiles wide, unabashed at being caught. He leans closer, slipping a hand beneath the skirt of her dress, onto her bare knee.

“Took you that long to notice?” Jaebeom asks in a low voice. Slowly, inch by inch, his hand trails up her thigh, on her bare skin. Yujin feels a tingle coursing through her veins. She tries to hold back a whimper.

“S-Shouldn’t you pay attention to the performance?” Yujin exhales shakily, wrapping a hand around his wrist, trying to halt his movements.

“Hmm, why should I?” The fae feigns ignorance.

“It’s your friends--”

“Oh? So you’d rather I pay attention to Youngjae and Yena instead?”

The way he emphasizes the word brings a bitter feeling in her chest.

“N-no…”

“Hmm, I don’t quite understand,” Jaebeom drops his voice even lower, barely a whisper, “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to watch the performance? Or do you not want me to watch the performance. Which is it?”

At this, Jaebeom slides his hand higher, up her inner thigh, close to the end. This time, Yujin can’t help the whimper that escapes her mouth. Embarrassed, she presses her palm to her mouth.

“J-Jaebeom, please--”

“Please what?” he murmurs at the shell of her ear.

“Please stop…”

Yujin can sense a smirk on the male’s face. “Stop?” he echoes, “You seem to like it though?”

“You c-can’t do this here--”

“Hmm, and what am I doing? I’m just holding you close, that’s all,” he whispers, an innocent smile on his lips.

At this point, Jaebeom is pressed against her, their shoulders, thighs and knees knocking. The warmth from his body is pure temptation. Yujin realizes that she’s powerless against him. She’s caught between drowning herself in the pool of heat and pushing him away. Still, there’s something so thrilling being intimate in the open. They could be easily caught if anyone were to look up.

Entranced, Yujin doesn’t even repulse when Jaebeom tips her chin up. She just lets him, losing all control. Their lips meet, and it’s electrifying. Tongues sliding over each other, moans swallowed.

They kiss fervently for a long time, only pulling away to catch their breath before diving in again. Yujin feels Jaebeom’s fingers traveling further north, and she’s sure he’s about to do something else, something more--

A commotion occurs at the main ballroom and they unceremoniously break apart. Yujin sees a shade of red on Jaebeom’s face, and she wonders if she looks the same. They hastily adjust their clothing, patting down any creases, pushing away any loose hair strands that have fallen over their faces.

The crowd below is slowly dispersing, indicating that the performances have come to an end. The stage is cleared, and a few moments later, the royal siblings approach the couple. Jaebeom rises to honor them, pulling them into a congratulatory hug.

“Beautiful performance, the both of you!” he praises, but Yujin blushes. It’s a clear lie -- they were busy doing something else instead, but the siblings definitely don't need to know that.

“Thank you for coming down to see us,” Youngjae says. “We really appreciate it.”

Jaebeom winds an arm around Yujin, squeezing her shoulder as he responds, “Yujin enjoyed it a lot. She found the performances truly amazing.”

She can only offer a smile through pursed lips.

“That aside,” Yena speaks, her face clearly annoyed, “We’d like to have a private audience with Jaebeom. We have important things to discuss.” 

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Youngjae adds with a polite smile.

“In the meantime, we have prepared a room for you to rest in.” Yena chimes in, “Otherwise, our servant can show you around if you like.”

Still, it’s not the same to be around the faes without Jaebeom. Yujin is reluctant to let him go.

“It’s alright,” Jaebeom assures her, noticing her discomfort. “Jinyoung should be around. You can find him if you don’t wish to be alone.”

Yujin hears a scoff from Yena and her mutter, “What a weakling.”

Something about it ticks her off, so Yujin tiptoes and presses her lips against Jaebeom’s. She has to show Yena that Jaebeom is hers, that Jaebeom cannot be taken away from her. When she pulls away, Jaebeom stares at her, surprised that Yujin would show such affection in front of an audience.

“Come back to me soon,” she whispers.

“You know I will,” he breathes, smiling. He proceeds to plant a kiss on the back of her hand. Then, he follows the Choi siblings into the hallway, and Yujin watches their retreating backs.

---

In the end, Yujin decided to wait for Jaebeom in the guest room that the royal family has prepared. She’d rather stay in a room than roam the palace alone. The guest room is definitely larger than her room in the mansion -- probably twice or thrice the size!

“Princess Yena has kindfully picked out this room for you,” the servant shared when they entered the room. “She suggests heading out to the balcony when the sun has set and the sky is dark.”

True enough, the view from the balcony is breathtaking. The room faces the mountain landscape and oversees the entire Air court. Despite the drifting clouds, the lights from each home of the Air faefolk shine through, creating a reflection of the night sky. The celebration has not ended, for Yujin can see a sea of crowds through the streets. She can hear the echoes of chatter and laughter. A sudden pang of loneliness hits her, and she wishes for Jaebeom’s company.

Yujin smiles to herself. What has Jaebeom done to her? She misses him even though they hadn’t spent a day apart. Perhaps love does change people.

“Hello, Yujin,” greets a voice, much to Yujin’s surprise. She whips her head around to see Jinyoung leaning against the wall closest to the balcony. “I did knock. You just didn’t hear it.”

“Right,” the female responds, turning back to the scenic view.

“Why, are you disappointed I’m not Jaebeom?” the fae teases. “Do you miss him that much already?”

“Shut up, Jinyoung,” she mutters, cheeks turning red at being caught. “Why are you here?”

He shrugs. “Jaebeom requested that I accompany you.” 

“Such a loyal brother. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, you know. I’m perfectly fine here.”

Jinyoung scoffs. “Perfectly fine, you say? You look like you’re moping around, waiting for your beloved to return! What’s that famous mortal play-- Oh! Romeo and Juliet!” The fae clears his throat and raises his hands up, his face crumpled to portray sadness. “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

Yujin lets out an exasperated sigh, pressing her hands to her ears. She can still hear Jinyoung’s cackling though.

“Alright, alright,” the fae gives in, “I shall not disturb you any further. I’ll relay the message to Jaebeom that his beloved is yearning for his return.” He proceeds to exit the room, but not before calling out, “You’re welcome!”

Yujin only shakes her head in disapproval.

It doesn’t take long before the door creaks open again. Without looking over, Yujin huffs, “I thought you said you were gonna leave me alone?”

“Yes, I will, but I thought I should tell you this,” comes a reply from a voice much higher than Jinyoung’s. Yujin immediately turns around, her eyes blown wide at the presence of Yena in front of her. What the hell is she doing here?

The princess has her arms crossed over her chest. She’s changed out of her previous outfit, now dressed in a similar fashion as Queen Choi.

“Stay away from Jaebeom if you want to live,” the fae threatens.

Yujin mimics her posture, tipping her chin up. “And why should I do that?”

“Do you really think Jaebeom loves you?” Yena taunts. “I suppose he didn’t tell you, did he? About his grand plan.”

Yujin frowns. “What are you on about?”

A devilish grin appears on the Air fae’s lips. “Oh, what a pity! That's proof that he doesn’t love you. Yet you are so blinded by his sweet words and touches--”

“Cut the crap! Tell me what do you mean by that! What grand plan?” Yujin snaps.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” the princess simply says before moving away. But Yujin grabs her by the shoulder. The fae slaps her arm away, and shoves her aside.

“You dare touch me?” Yena growls.

“I don’t know what you’re plotting, but it won’t work. Jaebeom and I, we trust each other, we love each other! You can’t break our bond that easily!”

Yena barks a laugh. “He really reeled you in, huh? I won’t feed you with words, but you can find the truth at the fountain in the Garden.”

“The Garden?”

“Yes, that magical garden within the Im premise. That same Garden that has been calling out for you for so long.”

How does she know that? Yujin wonders.

“There’s a water fountain in the center,” the princess continues. “Put your head in the water and you’ll see the truth.”

Yujin narrows her eyes, highly skeptical. “What makes you think I’ll trust your words? Besides, I can’t enter it. I may be killed if I try.”

Yena looks at her amusingly. “He told you so many lies and you still think he loves you?” she retorts. “Yes, the Garden will strike against intruders or the like, but the Garden will never attack you. After all, you are its owner.”

Yujin frowns, even more confused. “What--”

“Heed my warning,” the Air fae interrupts, heading towards the door, “Stay away from Jaebeom if you want to live.”

---

Yujin’s mind has been going through Yena’s words over and over again. She mentioned something about a grand plan. What could that possibly be? Is it something related to Jaebeom’s revolution? But he’s striving for a cause, for equality! Why did Yena make it sound more sinister? And the Garden! What did she mean by Yujin being its owner? She was never involved in its construction.

Yujin is perched on the edge of the bed, her head buried into her hands, tugging at her hair. Just what is happening? A few hours ago, she was preoccupied with Jaebeom’s ministrations, overtly intimate with him. But now, Yena has messed up her mind, leaving her confused. Does she truly know Jaebeom? Or is Yena just instilling doubt in her heart? Is this part of the game Yena is playing? Or is this truly a whole deception?

Memories of the nightmares cross her mind. Words from her father ring in her head again. The faes are skilled in deluding people. But no, Yujin refuses to believe it. Everything that Jaebeom has done for her… How can it not be genuine?

The sound of a door slamming breaks Yujin from her dismay. It seems like it’s from a floor somewhere below her room.

"Jaebeom, please--”

That’s Yena’s voice.

She hears a sigh next. That must be Jaebeom.

Quietly, Yujin tiptoes back to the balcony. She keeps herself still, not moving a single muscle as she strains her ears.

“You know my feelings for you. You know that I'm in love with you! I’ve always loved you, and have always been!" Yujin hears Yena say. Are they arguing?

"Of course I know,” Jaebeom responds, “I would be blind if I don't notice your feelings for me.”

"Then why won't you take me as your love?" the other asks, sounding frustrated. "Why do you still have that mortal as your wife?"

"Yena, darling," the affectionate way Jaebeom calls the fae makes Yujin’s heart drop. She feels angry. Betrayed even. "I told you, didn’t I? Yujin could be the key to our mission."

Yujin’s blood runs cold. What?

"Yet you seem to care so much about her. You refuse to lay a finger on her even though all you need is her heart.”

Yujin swallows her saliva. He needs my heart...? She musters some courage to peer over the balcony. Jaebeom has taken Yena’s hands in his, fingers loosely interlocking. Yujin suddenly feels out of place, as if she’s intruding into something intimate. The side of their faces are illuminated by the light from inside the room. Still, there is no mistaking that fond look in Jaebeom’s eyes. It’s the same gaze he’s looked at her too.

"It's not that easy, Yena," comes Jaebeom’s response. “I need her trust. I need her to fall for me so that she can do whatever I tell her to. All of these take time, you know that.”

"And when that's done, will you then come to me?" Yena drawls, almost purring, stepping closer to the male.

"Definitely," Jaebeom mutters, tucking a hair strand behind Yena’s ear.

Yujin feels sick to the stomach. Her knees buckle, and she drops to the floor. She clasps her hands over her mouth, trying to muffle her sobs.

Is everything a lie from the very beginning? Is she nothing but a deal to Jaebeom? A tool for him to use? What about those sweet memories that they’ve created together? Does that mean nothing at all to Jaebeom?

If Jaebeom needs her heart, she'll never live to see another day. Is that what Yena warned her about?

Yujin wipes her tears away. Yena mentioned that the Garden will show her the truth. She will have to access it, no matter what it takes. She doesn’t know what to believe in. She can only hope that the Garden will be the truth that she seeks.

[cyberhwas]

↬ pairing/characters: hercules! mingi x reader, wooyoung as terpishchore (muse of dance), seonghwa as erato (muse of love poetry), hongjoong as euterpe (muse of music), jongho as polyhymnia (muse of hymns), san as clio (muse of history), yeosang as thaila (muse of comedy), and yunho as urania (muse of astronomy)

↬ genre: fluff, heavy angst, mutual pining, greek mythology au 

↬ tw: mentions of death, light swearing, soul-selling,  servitude, unrequited love (im so sorry yall), major character death (oops) 

↬ disclaimers: may contain slight inaccuracies concerning dates, i have changed a bit of the story to make it less intense 

↬ rating: m, 18+ 

↬ wc: 10k (atm) 

↬ summary: you felt your heart ache at the utter anger and confusion on mingi’s face. “you lied to me?” “yes, but i-” “but you what? thought it would be amusing to lead me on? to rip my heart out?” you flinched at the coldness in mingi’s voice. “please, i can explain-” mingi shook his head, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “i never want to see you again, and don’t you ever think for one second that i’m going to come to rescue you from whatever danger you might face. you disgust me.” he snapped, his voice as hard as steel. you could only watch, helplessly, as the man you truly loved walked away, taking your heart with him. 

↬ note: hello friends!! this is the sequel to my previous fic, “i won’t say i’m in love”! thank you all for supporting me and my mediocre writing, and i hope you enjoy reading this!! stay safe and healthy, my loves!! 

“why, why am i afraid?” - ateez (mist

you hummed quietly to yourself as you sat on the edge of the low wall that surrounded the garden, letting your feet dangle in the air, mindlessly swinging them back and forth. the night air was cool and crisp, and the moon was glowing serenely against the midnight blue sky, bathing the garden in a soft, white light. it was late, and yet, despite the hectic evening you’d had, you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. 

seonghwa, san, and the others had reluctantly disappeared into their small cottage to retire for the night, after you had assured them that you were just going to sit around in the garden for a few minutes before joining them. your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. after all, you had just confessed your deepest and darkest secret to the people you considered family, and they hadn’t scorned or turned you away like you thought they would. however, you weren’t sure how you were going to gather up the courage to tell mingi. 

you scoffed, immediately erasing the idea from your mind. don’t be ridiculous, it’s not like he would care anyways. besides, you’re not supposed to fall for him, you’re supposed to break his heart, so it doesn’t matter what he thinks of you.  you ignored the bile rising in your throat. at first, you had thought that the task would be easy, as you were sure you weren’t ever going to fall for someone again, especially not after  the way your past romance had ended tragically. 

you clenched the soft fabric of your blue chiton in your hands, feeling angry tears prick at the corner of your eyes. you hated feeling so conflicted, especially over someone of the opposite sex. after all, men had done nothing but disappoint you, and your ex lover had proved that true. 

seonghwa couldn’t sleep. he was too worried about you, especially now that he knew that hades had a motive to hurt you. his heart had ached as you broke down and told everyone your secret. he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair and looked around him. even in the darkness of the small room, he could just make out the vibrant blue of hongjoong’s hair, yeosang’s light blonde hair, wooyoung and san curled up against one another, and jongho and yunho sprawled out on the bed across from him. seonghwa allowed himself a small, fond smile. he was grateful that he was able to spend time with his family every day, and that they were always safe and sound at the end of the day. 

seonghwa reluctantly slid out of his warm bed, shrugged his worn sandals on, slipped out the door and into the cool night. he wandered mindlessly around the garden, admiring how the blue and pink flowers that grew in its vicinity stood out against the dark of the night. the air was cool and soothing against his skin as he wandered farther, mind swimming with thoughts. 

suddenly, seonghwa heard faint sobs, and felt his blood run cold.  he wandered into a more secluded part of the garden, and felt his heart drop into his stomach. you were sitting at the edge of the low wall that surrounded the perimeter of the garden, hands gripping the soft fabric of your chiton so hard that your knuckles were turning white, and your body was shaking with soft sobs. seonghwa immediately ran over to you, throwing his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “h-hwa. I-i’m s-sorry, did i wake you?” his heart ached at how dejected you sounded. 

seonghwa shook his head, hugging you tighter and rubbing comforting circles on your back. “i couldn’t sleep.” “i’m sorry for worrying you, i just needed to clear my head.” “y/n, stop apologizing. you did nothing wrong, and the fact that you mustered up the courage to tell us your secret must’ve been hard for you.” you sniffled and buried your face in the crook of his neck, letting out a shaky breath. “it was, but i didn’t want to keep lying to everyone. none of you deserve to be lied to, not after all you all have done for me.” 

“darling, please, none of what you did is your fault. it’s that godsdamn jerk hades. and never feel afraid to come to any of us for comfort, we are always here for you, ok?” seonghwa felt you nod weakly, and allowed himself a small smile. “good. now, let’s get back inside before you freeze to death.” you chuckled, despite yourself. “hwa, it’s not even cold.” “don’t you dare argue with me, young lady.” seonghwa scolded lightheartedly. you rolled your eyes, glad he couldn’t see it as he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style. “yes, father.” that earned you a playful glare. “i am not that old, you know!” you laughed, reaching up and ruffling seonghwa’s hair affectionately. “whatever you say, old man.” 

you woke up the next morning to find yunho practically wrapped around you, his soft black hair tickling your cheek, and you smiled fondly, remembering all the nights you spent as kids curled up next to the muses you had come to call family, feeling safe and secure. the early morning sun cast beams of light across the floor of the small cottage, bathing it in gold. 

you slowly and carefully extricated yourself from yunho’s grip and headed outside to see if seonghwa needed help with tending to the garden. said male would wake up before everyone to tend to every plant and flower that occupied it, and you felt that helping seonghwa was the least you could to do to thank him for comforting you last night. 

sure enough, seonghwa was bent over a bed of roses, golden eyes searching for any deformities. “hwa!” you called, and the former’s expression lit up, a fond smile tugging at his lips, waving you over. “how are the roses doing?” you asked, admiring how the pink rose petals stood out against the dark soil.   “they’re alright, despite this weather.” you hummed thoughtfully, reaching out and lightly touching the rose petals, velvet soft against your skin. “thank you.” “for what?” seonghwa asked, moving on to another cluster of flowers, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “for last night. for comforting me.” the love muse’s expression went soft, golden eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “no need to thank me, darling. you’ve been through so much, and you deserve to have comfort. besides, we’re practically family, and we’re all supposed to there for each other, no matter what.” 

you smiled, reaching out and taking seonghwa’s hand in yours, squeezing gently. “do you need help with the flowers?” the former shook his head, black hair falling across his forehead. “well, is there anything i can do?” seonghwa smiled. “you can help me by waking the others up.” you groaned, knowing how difficult that was. “that’s going to take centuries, hwa!” “well, the flowers aren’t going to tend to themselves.” “aren’t you the muse of love poetry?” “yeah, and what about it? i am perfectly capable of taking care of nature.” you laughed, reaching out and ruffling seonghwa’s hair affectionately. “of course you are. now, if you’ll excuse me, i need to go wake up our little band of gremlins.” seonghwa chuckled softly as you turned and skipped towards the cottage, your heart seemingly lighter than before. 

it had taken nearly forty five minutes to wake everyone up, save hongjoong, who had actually gotten up as soon as you had gently shaken his shoulder. the others had been a bit more difficult, especially jongho and yeosang, who were notorious for sleeping in late. another twenty minutes later, breakfast was served, and it had been fruit, a few vegetables, bread, and cheese that seonghwa had managed to snag from the local market earlier that morning. then, yunho suggested that they lay out underneath the huge tree that took up a portion of the garden, of which everyone had agreed to, to your surprise. 

“when are you going to be done sulking?” “not sulking.” mingi mumbled, leaning against the tree he’d been sitting under for the past few hours, the bark rough against his back. maddox scoffed. “yeah, and i’m a descendant of zeus. you’re not fooling anyone, kid.” mingi sighed. “i just-” “missing her already?” 

 he felt his face burn. “s-shut up.” “there’s no need to be embarrassed, you know. i know i tease, but i genuinely want to see you happy, kid. you deserve it.” 

“what if she doesn’t feel the same?” mingi mumbled, blush deepening. he felt silly, pining after a girl he barely knew, but you were unlike anyone he had met. he heard maddox scoff. “please, that girl cannot fool anyone, even with her tough and stubborn façade.” “even if she liked me, would we even work?” maddox’s expression softened just a fraction, and he moved forward, placing a gentle hand on mingi’s shoulder, as if in comfort. “that’s something you’ll have to figure out yourself, kid.” mingi huffed. “that’s what i’ve been trying to do.” “give it time, it’ll come to you eventually.”

 mingi’s mind was still heavy with conflict as he walked along a long dirt path that would lead him to the cottage he resided in. even though he had been offered nicer accommodation in the city, mingi preferred to live in a more secluded area and one that was closer to nature. the late evening air was crisp and clean as he ventured further down the path, mind constantly wandering. his conversation with maddox earlier that day had done little to soothe his anxiety.  mingi was so lost in thought that he bumped into someone. “i’m so sorry i-” mingi felt his mouth suddenly go dry, as if he’d swallowed sandpaper. “wonder boy?” you asked, leaning back against a tree, keeping your expression as nonchalant as possible. even in the darkness, you could still make out the blush that was forming on mingi’s face. in the soft glow of the moon, mingi looked as gorgeous as ever, and you ignored the slight ache in your heart at the sight of him. “h-hi.” he stammered.. “what brings you out here at this time of night?” “just passing through.” “been a while since we’ve seen each other, huh?” “been busy.” mingi mumbled, running a hand through his already messy hair. you frowned at the slight annoyance in his tone, but didn’t  think anything of it. “well, see you around.” you muttered, pushing off the tree with your elbow and walked away, not bothering to look back.

 “everything ok?” yunho asked, light green eyes filled with worry. you sighed, leaning your head on the tall male’s shoulder, shaking your head slightly. immediately, an arm wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing gently. “what happened?” “it’s stupid.” “just tell me.” “fine. on my way here, i bumped into mingi, quite literally, at that.” “and?” what happened that has you so sad?” “do we need to beat someone up?” an amused smile tugged at the corner of your lips, and you laughed. “well, let me finish telling you and then i’ll let you and the others decide.” “what did he do?” “well, he seemed different.” “different how?” “i don’t know, it’s just the way he talked to me. he sounded kind of annoyed?” you felt yunho tense a little, the grip on your shoulders a little firmer, and you reached down and laced your fingers with his, squeezing gently. “i’m sure he was just having a bad day. don’t kill him, please. i can’t have you or the others being thrown into tarturus for beating someone up.” yunho huffed. “fine, but if he hurts you, i’ll get san to break his legs.” you laughed, snuggling deeper into the tall male’s side. “i’ll keep that in mind, then.” 

you tried not to laugh at the way seonghwa and jongho’s jaws clenched as you told them about what happened between you and mingi earlier that night. “i’ll kill him.” “no killing anyone, please. it’s not that big of a deal, he was probably having a bad day, everyone does.” “ok, but he didn’t have to take his annoyance out on you.” “yes, but-” “next time you see mingi, tell him that i will not hesitate to break his legs if he hurts you again.” “he won’t, i promise. like i said, he was probably having a bad day.” san huffed. “let him know.” “ok, ok, i will.” 

“enough about my love life.” “oh, so you’re admitting you have one?” yunho asked, light green eyes twinkling with mirth. “s-shut up, i do not.” wooyoung snorted, plopping down next to san, who rolled his eyes in amusement as the former laid his head on his shoulder. “you totally do, darling.” “not you too, hwa.” “sorry, but i have to agree with wooyoung.” you groaned, throwing yourself down onto the grass, laying your head in hongjoong’s lap, who just chuckled and ran a hand through your hair. “tough day, y/n?” “s-shut up, i’ve had enough bullying for one day.” 

“i messed up.” mingi mumbled, plopping down on the soft grass next to maddox, who only sighed in response. “what did you do this time?” “i might’ve lashed out.” “lovers’ quarrel?” “would you quit that? no, it wasn’t a lovers quarrel, i just- i don’t know, i guess i was so conflicted about my feelings that i took my anger out on her. what do i do?” “apologize.” “i-it’s not that easy, you know.” though mingi wasn’t looking in his direction, he could tell that his mentor was rolling in his eyes in exasperation. “it is, actually, you just walk up to her, say i’m sorry, and then you two live happily ever after for the rest of your days.”

 mingi frowned. “i’m serious.” “i am too. look, kid, if you’re not going to apologize, then i’ll do it for you.” “please don’t.” “i will if you would stop being a coward.” “i-i’m not a coward, she just makes me nervous, that’s all.” “i know it’s difficult, but if you don’t tell her how you feel soon, she might move on and find someone else.” “y-yeah, like who?” maddox shrugged. “i don’t know, maybe one of those muses she always hangs around.” “what? what muses?” “the muses? you seriously don’t know them?” “i-i do, i just have never seen them.” “well, she’s always around them, and they’re all pretty handsome, so i suggest you hurry up and profess your love or whatever before one of them steal her away.”

 “they could probably treat her better than me anyways.” he mumbled, which earned him an elbow to the ribs. “what was that for?” “would you quit being so pitiful? you never know until you try, and besides, i think she might feel the same.” “doubt it, but fine, i’ll try.” maddox grinned, reaching out and patting his shoulder gently. “that’s the spirit, kid.”

 the late afternoon sun bathed the forest in light as mingi leaned against a tree, ignoring how the rough bark dug into his back. his heart leaped in his chest as he heard soft footsteps approaching, and felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of you. you were a vision in a light pink toga that stood out against your skin, dark hair framing your face perfectly. “hi wonderboy.” you called out, and mingi felt his face flush at the mere sound of your voice. 

“h-hi.” “why did you want to see me?” “i wanted to apologize for how i acted the other day. i wasn’t feeling the greatest, and i took my annoyance out on you.” “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. although, my friends were quite worried and threatened to beat you up.” mingi winced. you laughed softly. “don’t worry. my friends are harmless even though they act like they aren’t sometimes.” “so, i’m forgiven, then?” “mingi, you were forgiven the moment you sent a scroll asking to talk to me.” you shrugged. “besides, i wasn’t offended, i just figured you were having a bad day, like you said.” mingi allowed himself a smile, and felt his pulse race when you returned it. 

“so, how’d it go with mingi?” wooyoung asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. seonghwa rolled his eyes and smacked the former lightly on the shoulder. “will you quit that?” the blond male only huffed in protest, but the curious glint never left his eyes. “what’s there to tell? he apologized, and that was it.” “seriously? no passionate kiss in the forest? no getting pressed up against a tree and making out? nothing? not even a kiss on the cheek? you two are so lame.” wooyoung sighed, dramatically falling into yeosang’s lap, who rolled his eyes in response. 

“jung wooyoung, if you don’t shut up right now, i will not hesitate to-” “yeah, yeah, i know, throw me into the depths of the underworld.” “exactly.” “it’s what you deserve, honestly.” yeosang mumbled, but made no move to shove the aforementioned muse off his lap. “yeosang! i thought we were friends.” “if you call barely tolerating you on a daily basis, then yes.” 

you laughed in amusement at their incessant bickering. “yeosang, stop being so harsh on wooyoung. he’s sensitive, you know.” “i am not!” the dance muse protested. hongjoong scoffed, not looking up from the elaborate flower crown he was making, rolling his eyes. “says the guy who wouldn’t stop sulking after san ignored him for a whole day because he accidentally spilled wine on his brand new toga.” “it was a whole week, and it hurt!” 

san sighed. “why am i friends with this idiot?” “because you love me.” “believe what you want, wooyoung.” jongho rolled his eyes. “hongjoong hyung!” said muse looked up from his now finished flower crown, carefully placing it on his head, hazel eyes widening in surprise. “yes, jongho?” “c-could you help me with this verse for a hymn? been stuck on it for days.”

 hongjoong’s face broke out into a wide smile, eyes turning into crescents, then flung himself at seonghwa, who stumbled a bit from the sudden attack, but recovered and wrapped his arms around the former, holding him tight. “what’s wrong, joong?” he asked, voice as gentle as ever, but the amused smile tugging at his lips was obvious. “j-jongho finally asked me to h-help him.” hongjoong wailed, burying his face into seonghwa’s chest, soft sobs wracking his body. seonghwa bit back a laugh as he patted hongjoong’s head gently. 

“are those tears of joy? or?” you laughed, reaching out and patting jongho’s shoulder gently. “definitely tears of joy. he’s been waiting for this moment for a millennia.” “finally, i’ve been spared!” yeosang cried out happily. jongho huffed. “i hate you.” yeosang only beamed. “love you too!” you rolled your eyes at their bickering. “have fun writing with hongjoong, he’s really been waiting for this day for ages.” jongho sighed. “i know. he wouldn’t stop whining to seonghwa hyung about it.” “yeah, i know, he’s also complained to me too.” “jongho! hurry up!” hongjoong called. 

you laughed at the embarrassment on jongho’s face as he mumbled his goodbyes and ran over to hongjoong, both of them disappearing behind an alcove of trees seconds later. “he must be really happy, huh?” “yeah, he is.” 

“how are things with mingi?” seonghwa inquired once everyone was distracted with the field of flowers a few feet away, marveling at the colorful petals. “honestly? i’m not sure. we’re not lovers, after all. i don’t even know if we’re friends. i guess we’re just acquaintances?” seonghwa rolled his eyes. “so, you’re telling me that after all the encounters you’ve had with each other that your relationship with him is still unknown?” you smiled sheepishly. “i-i guess?” the silver haired male sighed in exasperation. “you two are giving me a headache.” you laughed, leaning against seonghwa’s side, resting your head on his shoulder. the aforementioned muse immediately wrapped an arm around you. “but you love me.” “yeah, yeah.” you smiled, snuggling deeper into seonghwa’s warmth and allowing a comfortable silence to settle between the two of you. 

“mingi dare not break her heart, or i will personally throw him into the depths of the underworld.” wooyoung muttered, breaking off a petal of the rose he had in his hand, letting it gently float in the wind before settling peacefully in the grass around him. “stop destroying nature, would you?” san scolded, snatching the rose out of wooyoung’s hand, earning a squawk of protest from the latter. “while i agree with you, woo, i don’t think we should just charge at him like a minotaur gone truly mad.” “then, what do you think we should do, oh wise one?” 

“we should just talk to him, peacefully and without violence?” wooyoung scoffed. “that’s a terrible idea. do you want y/n’s heart to be broken?” “of course not, it’s just- he’s stronger than all of us, there’s no way any of us could take him in a real fight.” “yunho’s right, we’re all as thin as wheat and can’t lift anything remotely heavy.” “that’s not true! we’re not that weak!” yeosang rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. 

“why are we discussing murder?” a voice cut in, interrupting their conversation. yunho turned and saw seonghwa standing at the entrance of the garden, lean arms crossed over his chest, golden eyes twinkling with amusement. you were beside him, looking as equally amused as the former. “we’re not discussing murder, we’re just-” san slapped a hand over wooyoung’s mouth before he could continue, smiling nervously, ignoring how the latter squirmed, mumbling something incoherent.  “we were discussing just how much of a great person you are, hyung.” 

seonghwa bit back a laugh. “is that so?” “yes, of course! we would never think of murdering anyone! we’re too innocent and pure to commit such a wicked act!” unlike seonghwa, you laughed, the sound ringing in the air. “you are all so dramatic.” “ i honestly don’t know why i’m still hanging around you all.” “that’s because you have no other friends than us, yeosang.” wooyoung chirped, earning him a glare from the comedy muse. 

“please don’t start fights, especially with mingi. i don’t want to see any of you hurt.” wooyoung beamed, throwing himself onto seonghwa, hugging him tightly. “so you do love us, hyung!” the older rolled his eyes. “no, i’m just tired of you all being a pain in my ass all the time. so please save me the trouble and not try to kill anyone, ok?” san pouted. “you’re so cruel, hyung!” “believe what you want, san.” “anyways, do you know when hongjoong and jongho will be back? they need to help out with supper later.” “well, they’re probably going to be done, at least, hopefully, before the sun sets.” “ok, then i’ll just go gather the vegetables and fruit.” 

“hwa, i might need some help, that is, if you’re willing to.” seonghwa smiled, expression soft and gentle. “of course, i’d be happy to.” as soon as they were out of earshot, wooyoung leaned forward, making sure to keep his voice as low as possible. 

“is it just me, or is seonghwa hyung in love?” yeosang rolled his eyes, smacking the blond haired muse on the shoulder. “quit being delusional, seonghwa hyung’s always looked at her like that, we all do, you know. he cares about her just like he does the rest of us. besides, even if seonghwa hyung felt any sort of romantic way about y/n, she wouldn’t return his feelings and he’d get heartbroken.” “you never know! she could just be trying to use mingi as a distraction to get her mind off of him.” “you’re by far the dumbest person i know, woo.” “i know what i saw, yeosang!” “then prove it.” “what?” “if you can prove to me that seonghwa hyung really has feelings for y/n that are far from platonic, then i will not pick on you for a whole year.” wooyoung’s eyes brightened with determination. “get ready to bite back your words!” “can’t wait.” 

mingi softly hummed to himself as he walked through the forest, admiring how the sun shone through the leaves, bathing it in golden beams of light. his last meeting with you had gone well, better than he expected. “daydreaming about going on picnic dates with your girlfriend?” “no, and she’s not my girlfriend.” “sure, sure, keep lying to yourself.” “why did you even go with me? aren’t you supposed to be, i don’t know, doing important things?” 

maddox scoffed. “please, as if the officials need me for anything.” his mentor made subsequent trips to the heart of the city, where the council presided, looking over and approving laws. a comfortable silence settled around them as they continued on through the forest. 

suddenly, they heard laughter from a few feet away. and before mingi could say anything, maddox grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of said laughter. “what are you doing?” “you’re not curious where the laughter is coming from?” “not really-” he was cut off a few seconds later when maddox suddenly stopped in his tracks. “what’s wrong?”

“kid, i’m sorry.” “about what?” he ignored maddox as he tried to prevent him from going past. mingi froze when he saw what maddox had been trying to prevent him from seeing. it was you, looking as beautiful as ever in a dark blue toga, holding a basket full of vegetables and fruit. but you were not alone. a tall male with silver hair, dressed in a white toga, an impossibly soft smile on his face, stood next to you. then, said male took the basket from you, pulling you into his side and wrapping a slender arm around your waist. 

mingi waited for you to push him away, which otherwise never occurred.  then, what came next felt as if his heart was going to be ripped out of his chest. you smiled and leaned into the male’s embrace, resting your head on his shoulder. he had had enough. mingi fought back tears as he ran away, ignoring maddox calling his name in the distance. 

“calm down!” maddox shouted, gripping mingi’s shoulders tightly. “why should i? after what i saw?” “you know, there’s such a thing as jumping to conclusions, which is exactly what you’re doing right now! and even if that guy was her lover, what does it matter to you? you’re not together anyway, right?” “i’m fully aware of that, but it still hurts just as much. i need to be alone.” mingi mumbled, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. as soon as the grip on his shoulder loosened, he ran off into the forest, vision blurring. 

dinner consisted of fruit and vegetables, along with a few quail eggs that seonghwa had managed to pick up at the market earlier that day. the early evening air was cool and crisp, and there was a light breeze that caused the leaves to sway gently. “were you able to write the hymn?” jongho nodded as he popped a strawberry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “it wasn’t easy, but it is finished.” seonghwa smiled fondly, reaching out and ruffling the younger’s hair affectionately. “i’m glad.”  “did you spend time with y/n today?” wooyoung blurted, light blue eyes glimmering with anticipation, “yes, yes i did. we gathered the fruits and vegetables for supper. why?” “no reason hyung, just curious.” he mumbled, taking a sip of wine. seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t press further. yeosang pursed his lips tightly and looked away, trying to will himself to disappear. the former shrugged and merely got up and walked away to the center of the garden. 

once he was out of earshot, yeosang elbowed wooyoung in the side, causing the latter to cry out in protest. “what was that for?” “could you be any more obvious?” “what are you talking about? i was very subtle!” yeosang rolled his eyes. “you were not.” “do you really think seonghwa hyung doesn’t have any sort of romantic feelings towards y/n?” “i really do.” “i will prove you wrong, just you wait!” “i’ll be waiting for the day when you do.” 

you sat underneath a tree with seonghwa, curled up into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. the night sky was glittering with stars, bathing the garden in soft white light. “do you think my relationship with mingi will become something more?” “i can’t give you a sure answer, but i think if you allow a space for him in your heart, then maybe something will happen.” 

“when did you get so…” “cheesy? romantic? well, i am the muse of love poetry, in case you forgot.” “right, you write cheesy poems for a living.” “my poems are masterpieces, just so you know.” “i apologize, oh humble one. i did not mean to slander your poems, which a truly a gift to mankind.” “stop feeding my ego.” you laughed, snuggling deeper into seonghwa’s side. “ok, ok, i’ll stop.” 

“this is going to sound very cliché and cheesy-” “darling, please, i write romantic poems for a living. try me.” “i just- i’m grateful.” “for what?” “for not neglecting me. for taking care of me when i had no one else, and for giving me a home when my parents left me all alone, defenseless and starving.” you hadn’t realized you were crying until seonghwa pulled you into a warm and tight embrace, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “let it out, it’s okay.” “i’m sorry for breaking down like this, but-” “don’t apologize, darling. we are always here for you, and it’s perfectly okay to have an off day, we’ve all been there.” “i just-” “you don’t need to explain yourself, you never do. just promise me you won’t hide your pain from us? we hate to see you miserable.” 

you nodded, leaning further into seonghwa’s embrace, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of roses hitting your nose. the smell was comforting, and you felt your eyelids droop, and you let sleep take over. seonghwa smiled fondly at the sleeping girl in his arms, looking peaceful and at ease. he brushed a stray strand of hair off your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear. the night was cool and crisp and tame, just how seonghwa preferred it to be. 

“hyung?” a quiet voice said behind him. he turned around, careful not to wake you, and saw yeosang standing behind him.“yeosang? what is it? is something wrong?” san hesitated as he saw the immediate concern on seonghwa’s face. “i- i just wanted to see if y/n’s alright.” “she’s fine, just tired. why?” “ah, no reason, just curious.” “san, are you ok? you’re acting a bit strange.” “i’m alright, just tired. wooyoung ‘s been a pain in my ass all day.” seonghwa chuckled at that. “perfectly understandable. wooyoung can be quite the handful sometimes.” 

yeosang gave the older an awkward wave, trying not to run away in embarrassment across the grass. as soon as he plopped down next to wooyoung, said male turned to him anticipation. “so, what did you see?” “she was asleep in seonghwa hyung’s arms; they were practically cuddling.” wooyoung clapped excitedly, and yeosang smacked him on the shoulder. “cut that out. just because i caught them cuddling doesn’t prove anything. she’s fallen asleep on all of us at some point.” “was she on his lap?” “what in tarturus? no, of course not.” “she was curled up in his arms, that’s all.” 

“are you seriously still convinced that seonghwa hyung doesn’t pine for her?” yeosang sighed. “look, wooyoung, you should really just give up on this, i mean, don’t you think trying to prove something that you know isn’t true a waste of time?” “it may be to you, but not to me! he loves her, i’m sure of it!” “just don’t go overboard, ok?” “i won’t, i swear on the river styx.” “i sense empty promises, but fine.” 

mingi sat on the edge of a ravine, feet dangling dangerously in the air, dried tears on his cheeks. he didn’t know when the crying had stopped, nor did he know how he ended up at the very edge of the forest. maddox was standing a few feet away, giving him space, which mingi was grateful for. his mind was swimming with thoughts and his heart ached. 

he felt pathetic, for even thinking that someone like him had a chance with you. you looked happy, happier than he had ever seen you. there was a part of him that was happy that you were being cherished, for it was what you truly deserved. i was foolish to think that she ever showed any interest in me as a lover, mingi thought glumly, fighting back another deluge of tears. he heard soft footsteps behind him and a few seconds later, a warm and gentle hand was on his shoulder. mingi sighed. “are you going to give me a lecture about how much of a fool i am?” “of course not, and you’re anything but that.” he let out a bitter, sad laugh. “how would you know that?” “because i’ve been your mentor for years, and while you were a bit clumsy at first, you persisted.” “what are you trying to say?” “i’m trying to tell you that you shouldn’t give up! so what if she has a potential suitor? make her see what she’s missing!” “you want me to make her jealous?” “exactly! then she’ll realize just how much of a great hero and guy you are, and then she’ll practically beg for you to be her lover.” mingi shook his head. “there’s no way in tarturus i’m doing that.” “why not?!” “i don’t want to make anger her for my personal gain, it’s not right.” 

“ok, then, what do you think you should do?” “you saw her! she looks happy, and i don’t want to ruin that for her. i should try to move on.” maddox sighed. “do you even know who she was with?” “n-no? should i know him?” “do you remember when i mentioned the muses?” “vaguely.” 

his mentor rolled his eyes. “anyway, the guy you saw her with was one of the nine muses.” “w-what? how did you know?” “i thought it was pretty clear.” “how can you-” “centuries ago, they attended one of the council meetings. the muse you saw her with was the one who did most of the talking.” “i thought muses didn’t involve themselves with the council.” “they don’t, but maybe they had a reason to.” 

“that doesn’t mean anything, he could be her lover.” “believe what you want, kid. i’m not going to attempt to convince you otherwise. just don’t sulk about it too much.” with that, maddox walked away, leaving him with his thoughts and a heavy heart. 

“are you close with seonghwa hyung?” you laughed, carefully rolling up another scroll and placing it back on the massive shelf in front of you. “what do you mean, woo? i’m close with all of you.” “i know that, but-” “but?” “never mind.” wooyoung mumbled, plopping down on a nearby chair, lips forming a visible pout. you sighed in exasperation, walking over to said sulking male, ruffling his hair affectionately. “what’s wrong, woo?” “nothing, i’m just tired from yesterday evening, i suppose.” “oh, well, why did you come along with me, then? you didn’t have to, i know reading scrolls can be quite a bore.” “i didn’t want to leave you all alone. if something happened to you, seonghwa hyung would have my head.” you smiled, pulling the dance muse into a tight embrace. “wooyoung, that’s very sweet of you, but you know i can handle myself.” 

“i know, but if hades-” “he hasn’t come after me yet, and i doubt he will soon. even if he does, he won’t hurt me, at least, not enough to kill me.” “y/n! don’t say that! we wouldn’t be able to live with ourselves if something happened to you.” you felt your heart ache and hugged wooyoung tighter. “i’m sorry for saying that, i just-” “it’s ok, y/n. just promise me that you’ll let us protect you?” you nodded. “i will, i promise.” 

“what do you think of y/n?” yeosang asked, quite abruptly at that, and seonghwa felt his eyes widen in shock at the sudden bluntness. “i don’t quite understand the question, yeosang, i-” “just answer it.” “ok, ok, uhm, well, she’s….” the former gestured for seonghwa to continue. “she’s wonderful. she’s very caring, loving, and is very selfless. y/n is always there for us, always.” 

yeosang felt guilt rising in his stomach. he hated lying to seonghwa, especially after he now knew that wooyoung was completely wrong about how the older felt about y/n. at least, it was clear to him that she was nothing more than a dear friend, a sister, even. “are you alright?” yeosang snapped out of his thoughts, giving a worried seonghwa a half smile that he hoped was convincing enough. “i’m fine, just exhausted.” 

seonghwa’s golden eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he didn’t press further. “i have to go help y/n with something, i’ll see you in the evening?” yeosang managed a brief nod before the former walked off. 

he sighed, leaning back on the rough bark of a tree behind him. things were definitely going to get even more complicated, and yeosang wasn’t looking forward to it in the slightest. 

“don’t you think wooyoung and yeosang are being a little... “ “strange?” “i suppose? wooyoung asked me if i’m close to you.” seonghwa raised an amused eyebrow, carefully rolling up a scroll. “close in what way?” suprisingly, you felt your cheeks flush scarlet. “i-” “as lovers?” “y-yes.” “ah, well, that is quite amusing.” “is it?” seonghwa nodded, golden eyes twinkling with mirth. “you are not angry?” “why would i be angry? any man would be lucky to have you.” “thank you, hwa.” his expression softened, if that was even possible. you smiled, carefully pulling another scroll from the shelf. “i’ve always loved coming here.” “i know. whenever we visited the town, you would beg us to take you to the library so you could read scrolls.” you blushed. “that must’ve been quite irritating.” 

seonghwa shook his head. “not at all, it was quite endearing.” “i’ve always loved stories, even as a child. though i don’t remember much about my parents, i know they always told me them to help me sleep. that is, before they abandoned me.” you didn’t even realize you were crying until strong arms were around you, pulling you into a comforting and tight embrace. 

“i’m sorry, i don’t know why i’m being so emotional all the time. you must think i’m being dramatic.” seonghwa scoffed. “you are not. i’m the one who should be asking for your forgiveness.” “hwa-” “hear me out, ok? i was the one who suggested we come here, and that was a terrible thing to do, because it surfaced tragic memories of your past. i’m so sorry, darling, i should’ve been more considerate-” 

“hwa, listen to me. it was not your fault. you didn’t know, and besides, i think it’s important for me to bring the painful memories to light instead of dwelling on them. i’ve been resenting my parents for centuries, and i think it’s time i start trying to forgive them.” seonghwa’s expression softened, as it always seemed to whenever he looked at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “if you need any assistance, i’m here for you, and so are the others.” “i know, thank you, hwa. i really don’t know what i would do without any of you in my life.” 

“that was extremely cliché, but i’ll let it slide because the feeling is mutual.” “you’re the absolute worst, you know that?” seonghwa laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “i know, but you love me.” “correction, i tolerate you, there’s a difference.” that earned you a light shove to the shoulder, and you couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh, feeling lighter than you had been in centuries. 

 nearby, certain muses were deep in conversation. “wooyoung, i really think we should put an end to our bet, i mean, there’s no point anymore.” “why? did seonghwa hyung tell you something? or did you tell him about it?” yeosang sighed in frustration. “i didn’t tell him anything, i just really think it would be best to stop.” wooyoung huffed. “how can you be so sure?” “i just- look, i really don’t think seonghwa hyung loves y/n in a romantic way.” “suit yourself, yeosang, i’m going to prove it.” “do what you want.” 

“kid, are you even listening to me?” maddox’s worried voice snapped mingi out of the trance he’d been under, bringing him back to reality. the former sighed. “let’s take a break.” mingi nodded, carefully putting the bow and arrow he’d been holding off to the side, plopping down onto the soft grass beneath him, the blades tickling his bare legs. “are you alright?” maddox asked, his voice unusually soft, as if mingi were a fawn that would run away the instant it heard a loud noise. mingi didn’t reply, just shook his head softly and hugged his knees to his chest, somehow managing to look small and almost vulnerable, despite his bulk. 

maddox sighed, settling down beside him on the grass. “i know that sulking over unrequited love is trivial and a little pathetic of me-” “it’s not pathetic. you’re heartbroken, and it’s okay to sulk.” mingi managed a small, grateful smile. “thank you.” “i’ve never felt this way about anyone, and i know that’s cliché, but it’s true. she’s the only girl who doesn’t fawn over me like everyone else, she doesn’t even know about my being a hero or slaying monsters!” “she knows you as mingi, not mingi the hero.” “yes, and that simple fact makes it hurt even more.”  

mingi didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “it’s okay, kid, let it out. i’m sorry for pushing you too hard to train. i didn’t realize you were still grieving.” “stop making it sound as if i’m mourning the loss of a loved one.” mingi scolded, but it was light-hearted. “i’ll be okay, i just need time.” “take all the time you need, i’ll be here for you if you ever need a shoulder to cry on.” “thank you.” “i’ll likely forget about her, so don’t get your hopes up.” maddox grimaced. he knew that mingi would most definitely not do such a thing, and that he would sulk about her for gods knew how long. i just hope he doesn’t completely fall apart, maddox thought, fighting back tears. 

seonghwa hummed softly to himself as he admired the deep purple hyacinths on either side of him, contrasting greatly with the forest green of the grass. the day was perfect, with a light, refreshing breeze tugging at his hair and toga, ruffling the leaves and branches of trees, the sky cloudless and blue, and the sun shining golden beams of light upon the earth. the air was just the right temperature, and seonghwa absolutely adored days like these. 

wooyoung, jongho, yeosang, and san had all gone to the town marketplace to find food for supper, and you and hongjoong were in the center of the garden, weaving flower crowns, which left seonghwa by himself for a bit. not that he minded, of course, seonghwa secretly enjoyed it when he got some time for himself, so he can be alone with his thoughts. 

while he loved his fellow muses dearly, it could get overwhelming to be around them at times. seonghwa never took the moments he got to himself for granted, for they were rare. seonghwa was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you settling down on the grass beside him, a hand woven crown of roses on your head. “hwa?” you asked, which made him jump in surprise. 

“when did you get here?” “about a few seconds ago, why?” “no reason, just, you scared me, is all.” you smiled in amusement. “you’re always so easily startled, huh?” seonghwa felt his face flush scarlet. “weren’t you with hongjoong?” “i was, but he insisted i keep you company.” “i hope i’m not bothering you, you seemed like you wanted to be alone for a while.” 

seonghwa nodded sheepishly. “well, one part of that is true.” “which one?” “the second, because you could never bother me.” that earned him a light shove to the shoulder. “when did you get so cheesy?” “i’m the muse of love poetry, cheesy is all i know how to write.” you laughed, and seonghwa ignored the way his heart sped up a bit at the sound. “what were you thinking about?” “you don’t have to tell me, of course, only if you’re willing.” “it’s okay, i wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, actually.” “just daydreaming then?” seonghwa smiled. “perhaps.” 

you returned his smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, and the sight made seonghwa’s heart clench painfully. he felt his pulse race as you moved closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder, all the while making sure not to crumple your flower crown. you’d done this many times before, but it never failed to make seonghwa’s heart race. he knew it was pathetic and silly to harbor feelings for someone who would never return them, but he couldn’t help it. you were kind, loving, the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, and whenever you looked at him, it felt like a punch to the gut. he loved the way your expression would brighten when visiting the town library, looking at various scrolls. most off all, he loved how selfless you were, and that you would do anything for the ones you loved.

while it was extremely painful to see you long for someone else, you were at least happy, and that was all that mattered to seonghwa. you deserved someone who would cherish you for the rest of your life, and who would never hurt you. seonghwa ignored the shiver that ran down his spine as you snuggled closer into his side. as if on impulse, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, your bare skin warm against his own, and held you tight. “are you alright?” “yes, just a bit exhausted. is it alright if i take a short nap?” “go ahead, i’ll wake you once it’s time for supper.” you shot him a grateful smile, and seconds later, you were fast asleep. seonghwa sighed heavily, resisting the urge to hide his face in his hands to hide the blush that was forming on his face. i need to get ahold of myself, he thought. 

wooyoung hid the smirk that was tugging at his lips as he caught sight of you cuddled up against seonghwa, resting your head on his shoulder. “ what are you doing?” a voice asked, which made wooyoung jump in shock. “san! did you have to sneak up on me like that?” said male rolled his eyes. “i didn’t sneak up on you, you were just too busy staring at seonghwa and y/n that you didn’t notice.” 

“are you stalking them or something?” wooyoung huffed in frustration and hit san gently on the shoulder. “i am doing nothing of the sort!” “then, what are you doing?” “i’m observing?” “seriously, woo?” what? just think of it as supervising.” san just sighed in frustration. “you really expect me to believe that? y/n can take care of herself, and seonghwa would rather get thrown into the depths of the underworld than even think of hurting her. what’s the real reason you’re watching them like a creep?” wooyoung sighed. “keep this a secret, okay?” san nodded. though his expression seemed uninterested, his violet eyes were glinting with curiosity. when wooyoung was done explaining, san burst out laughing. 

“you think i’m insane, don’t you?” “uh, yeah, i kind of do.” “look, woo, do you really believe that seonghwa hyung is in love with y/n? don’t you think that’s a little… i don’t know, impossible?” “anything is possible, san!” “yes, but not that.” “why? why does everyone think i’m crazy for this?” “wooyoung’s right, san.” they turned and saw hongjoong standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, expression unreadable. “how long have you been standing there?” 

hongjoong shrugged. “long enough.” “wait, what? what do you mean i’m right?” “you’re right about seonghwa.” wooyoung let out a small whoop of triumph, while san looked at hongjoong in utter disbelief. “what in tartarus? how do you know that?” “because he told me.” “when?” wooyoung asked, practically beaming. “centuries ago.” “wait, so seonghwa hyung’s liked her for that long?!” hongjoong grimaced. “ah, it’s actually the opposite of that.” “he loves her?!” san blurted, and wooyoung slapped a hand over his mouth. “don’t be so loud! seonghwa hyung’s nearby, he might hear you!” he hissed. 

“when did you notice?” wooyoung asked, slowly taking his hand off san’s mouth, who glared at him in return. “i thought it was pretty obvious, and honestly, i’m quite surprised no one picked up on it sooner.” “so, when did he tell you?” “i don’t remember exactly, but i’m pretty sure it was when y/n was in the garden with you guys and seonghwa and i went somewhere to talk in secret. he was extremely anxious.” 

(six centuries ago)

 hongjoong let out a cry of protest as seonghwa led him into a more secluded part of the garden, anxiety rolling off the latter in waves. the late afternoon sun cast golden beams of light on the soft patches of green grass. the air was crisp and cool, and the weather had never been more perfect. “what’s wrong?” seonghwa hesitated, rocking back and forth on his heels. “i-i love someone.” hongjoong’s eyes widened. “what?” “i know it’s sudden of me to say something so bold, but i-i know that i love her.” “who is she? do we know her?” seonghwa chuckled, golden eyes shining with an emotion that hongjoong had never seen him express before. “yes, you know her, very well, in fact.” hongjoong furrowed his brows in confusion, thinking about which female in the entirety of athens seonghwa had his heart set on, and suddenly, it clicked. the gentle and soft gazes he’d send your way, the way he’d look at you as if you were the only star in the sky, and the way he handed you a basket of flowers or even a piece of fruit were all telltale signs that seonghwa was irrevocably smitten, and yet hongjoong hadn’t realized it until now. “i- when did you realize that you loved her?” seonghwa rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, color staining his cheeks. “do you remember that city official that started to insult y/n the day we went to the market?” hongjoong grimaced at the memory. “of course, how could i forget? i was  tempted to throw him into the depths of tarturus.” “she defended herself before we could, despite having tears in her eyes. she was so strong, and i admired her for that. i knew that she was not a damsel in distress, and that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but i’ve always felt i need to protect her, to shield her from harm. isn’t that so selfish of me?” seonghwa asked, laughing bitterly. “it’s not selfish, it just shows how much you love her.” “i suppose. hongjoong, promise me that this will stay between us?” “of course.” hongjoong said, swallowing against the bile in his throat. the smile that seonghwa sent his way afterwards, bright and hopeful, made his stomach churn with guilt. 

“that day was the worst, i was going to kill him if someone didn’t stop me.” san hissed, glaring at hongjoong, who rolled his eyes. “i’m sorry i foiled your plans of vengeance, but seonghwa would’ve killed me if anything happened to any of you.” “seonghwa hyung really is in love with y/n.” wooyoung mumbled, looking dazed, as if he had been in a trance. “yes, he is. now, you two have to promise me that this stays between us. seonghwa cannot know that i told you.” 

san pursed his lips tightly. “i hate keeping secrets from him.” “i know, but if finds out that i told you this, he will never forgive me, and i can’t live with myself knowing that i hurt seonghwa.” san looked as if he’d rather jump into the river of souls than agree to it, but just sighed and gave hongjoong a small nod. “fine, but don’t make me regret this.” 

hongjoong gave the younger a grateful smile.” thank you, san.” “i’ll also keep this from seonghwa hyung, but it’s not going to be easy.” “i know, just try your hardest not to tell him.” wooyoung also looked as if he were going to object, but managed a miniscule nod. “i just hope that no one gets hurt in the end.” hongjoong felt dread pool in his stomach at the thought of seonghwa looking at him with absolute hatred and sadness in his eyes, and forced what he hoped was a convincing smile on his face. “time will tell.” 

after the confrontation with san and wooyoung, hongjoong headed to another secluded part of the garden, feeling dazed. he settled onto a soft patch of grass, stretching his legs and basking in the late afternoon sun. though the weather usually lifted hongjoong’s spirits, today, it did nothing to distract him from the immense guilt he felt. he knew it wasn’t his right to tell seonghwa’s secret, but he had just suddenly gotten the urge to, after overhearing wooyoung and san’s conversation. hongjoong sighed, reaching up and rubbing at his temples. he would be doomed if seonghwa ever came to know that his secret had been disclosed, especially since he’d promised all those centuries ago not to tell anyone. 

“joong?” a soft voice said, and hongjoong looked up to see you standing over him, an amused smile on your face. “y/n?” “taking a nap?” you asked, settling down beside him, your sky blue robes bright against the green grass. hongjoong shook his head. “no, just thinking.” “about what? you don’t have to tell me, of course, i’m just curious.” “well, honestly, it wasn’t anything important.” you didn’t look too convinced, but didn’t press further, much to hongjoong’s relief. “can i talk to you about something?” “of course, anything.” hongjoong said, immediately sitting up and moving closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “what’s troubling you?” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “it’s seonghwa.” “what about him? is he being an asshole?” you laughed softly. “no, of course not. hwa’s one of the sweetest, gentlest, most patient, loving, and selfless people i know. he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.” “

then, what’s wrong?” “i- is he in pain?” “what do you mean?” “is he pining for a lost love?” hongjoong felt his stomach coil with nerves. “why do you ask?” “i’ve noticed the way he looks at me, almost as if i remind him of someone who hurt him.” no, it’s because seonghwa’s in love with you, but he’s not saying anything because he knows you will not return his feelings, hongjoong thought sadly. “is he hurting because of me? did i do something?” you sounded so sad, so lost, and hongjoong’s heart ached. “no, of course not. seonghwa’s always been one to wander off into his own thoughts and keep his feelings to himself. he doesn’t want us worrying about him. he’s probably just daydreaming or exhausted.” “i suppose.” you murmured, snuggling deeper into hongjoong’s side. hongjoong forced what he hoped was a convincing smile on his face and held you tighter. 

mingi loosed a breath as he let an arrow fly, allowing a small smile when it struck the center of the target. the air was warm but not too humid, and he loved when the sun would shine through the trees, bathing the forest in golden light. it was late afternoon, and he had finally gotten out of bed after a while to train. maddox had had business in town, so that left him alone for the day. 

he sighed and propped his bow against a tree, practically collapsing onto the soft grass. it’d been a long few days, of which were mainly spent crying until his throat and eyes hurt, or until maddox threatened to throw him into the river if he wouldn’t stop sulking. ever since that day, mingi had been trying his best to heal from the heartbreak he experienced. it was a bit pathetic that he was so devastated over a girl that he barely knew, but in some ways, he felt drawn to you. he felt as if there was something that intrigued him about you, but couldn’t quite name the cause. he supposed that as long as you were happy and that you were being treated well, there was nothing he could do. after all, he was a hero, destined to save athens or whatever fairy-tale shit maddox ranted about constantly, and if you were together, you would be in constant danger. mingi knew he couldn’t live with himself if anyone he loved got hurt or killed, and the image of you being stabbed or becoming lifeless in his arms sent a shudder through his body. mingi closed his eyes and let the tears fall, wondering if he would ever get his so-called “happy ending.” 

yunho laid next to wooyoung on the worn blanket seonghwa had found lying around the cottage, and looked up at the night sky, stars glittering like precious jewels. the air was crisp and cool, and he allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. yunho turned his head slightly to see you and san sitting on a patch of soft grass, your head resting on his shoulder. “penny for your thoughts?” wooyoung said, snapping yunho back to reality. he felt his face flush scarlet at the knowing smirk on wooyoung’s face, and swatted at him with his hand, causing the younger to laugh. “i do not feel that way about y/n, if that’s what you’re thinking.” wooyoung rolled his eyes. “i know you don’t, i was just teasing you.” a comfortable silence settled between them, and yunho sighed, turning his attention back to the stars, mind wandering once again. dinner had been normal, with the occasional light chatter and wooyoung and san bickering over trivial matters, but the aftermath had been quite strange. san had given wooyoung a look that clearly said ”don’t you dare speak another word or i will throw you into the river” , and the latter had whined in protest, but didn’t say anything else after. yunho had looked at them with utter confusion, wondering what in zeus’ name they’d been arguing about, but didn’t bother to ask. he just hoped that whatever secret they were keeping wouldn’t cause any conflict. 

you sighed, snuggling deeper into san’s side for warmth, and said male wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “tired?” he asked. you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “did seonghwa nag you too much today?” he asked, voice light and teasing. you rolled your eyes playfully. “no, he didn’t. today was just a long one, that’s all.” san hummed in agreement, squeezing your shoulder gently, as if in comfort. you shifted so that you were now lying on his lap, and he chuckled softly, playing with the loose strands of your hair. “are you really going to use my lap as a pillow?” “yes, is there a problem?” san shook his head. “of course not, you know i was just teasing.” “san?” “hmm?” “thank you.” “for what, love?” “no reason, i’m just glad you’re in my life.” “when did you get so cheesy? you’ve really been spending way too much time with seonghwa hyung.” you flelt your face flush scarlet. “s-shut up, i’m trying to be sentimental and you’re ruining the moment.” san laughed, patting your head gently. “ok, ok, fine.” you soon fell asleep to san humming softly. 

san smiled as you slept, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of your hair, humming a song he’d heard jongho sing once, and leaned back against the rough bark of the eucalyptus tree that took up one side of the garden, letting his mind wander. dinner had been interesting, and he grimaced as he remembered how wooyoung had nearly let seonghwa’s secret come to light. wooyoung needs to be more cautious, otherwise, seonghwa hyung might never forgive hongjoong hyung for telling us his secret. 

it was also where he noticed firsthand that seonghwa was irrevocably and utterly in love with y/n, despite knowing that his feelings would never be returned. san didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed before. it was evident in the way seonghwa would look at you, as if you were the only star in the sky, and even a small gesture as handing you a piece of bread from across the table. his fingers always seemed to brush against yours in such an intimate way that san felt himself blush and look away. 

san winced as he recalled the conversation with hongjoong and wooyoung earlier that evening, and his heart ached for seonghwa, whose love was unrequited, and for hongjoong, who had succumbed to the pressure of keeping such a secret that he told him and wooyoung. he felt as if they didn’t deserve to know, for the secret felt so personal to seonghwa, and san knew that he would be devastated if he knew that hongjoong had told them. holding back tears, san closed his eyes and let sleep take over. 

mingi woke to maddox gently shaking him, whispering fervently. he sat up immediately, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “what is it? did something happen?” even in the darkness of the cottage, he could make out the pale and ashen color of maddox’s face, and his stomach coiled with fear. his mentor gulped nervously before replying, his voice barely audible. “hades.” “what?” mingi felt blood rushing to his ears, and he felt himself get out of bed, hastily throwing the thin blankets off of him, reaching for his sword, which had been thrown on a pile of old clothes earlier that night. mingi could feel the nervous tension in the air as he loosed a breath and headed out into the cool night, feeling a shiver course through him. maddox was trailing slowly behind him, footsteps quiet and hesitant. 

mingi knew it was extremely foolish to confront hades not properly armed, but at least maddox was with him. now, his mentor wasn’t the strongest or the best fighter, but he could at least try and figure out a way for mingi to escape unscathed, or at least mingi hoped he could. 

the air got thicker with tension as mingi ventured deeper into the forest, ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him to run away. mingi knew that hades was close by, as the scent of death and smoke filled his nostrils as he neared a more secluded part of the forest, which, ironically, happened to be near a field of blooming hyacinths. the sight that beheld him made his heart drop down into his stomach and his blood run cold. 

you were laying at hades’ feet, pale blue robes streaked with dirt, curled into yourself, as if bracing for an attack that would hopefully never come. mingi ducked behind a tree, hoping it would somehow obscure him from view. “you’re pathetic.” hades hissed, dark eyes flashing with pure disgust. you groaned, neck straining to look up at the god of the dead, expression full of fury and pure hatred. “i thought i made it clear that my relations with you were over.” you seethed, wiping blood from the corner of your mouth. hades laughed, cold and heartless. “you very aware of my conditions when you signed your soul over to me, and one of them was that you will never be free until you fufill my end of our deal. you seemed so willing all those centuries ago, i wonder what changed? is it because you fell in love?” hades sneered, tone dripping with mock cheerfulness. 

you said nothing, clenching your jaw in anger and curling your hand into a fist. hades laughed, the sound hollow and void of emotion. “how touching, you fell in love with the very person you were supposed to lead to his own demise. i assume you want me to spare him?”

you glared at the god of the dead, refusing to show any signs of fear, and mingi’s heart ached at the sight. “no, i very well know that you will kill him anyway, for seeing heroes perish brings you great pleasure.” hades clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “i’m appalled that such a thought would ever cross your mind.” “you’ll spare him, then? if i request it?” hades scoffed. “you’d be foolish to think that i would ever take a request from such a weak and pathetic woman such as yourself.” 

mingi felt a hand grip his shoulder tightly, and didn’t try to resist. “kid, if you go out ther now, you’ll die. hades may be a prick, but he’s powerful, and can most likely turn you into ashes before you can even take a single step.” maddox murmured, voice barely audible, but mingi nodded, a sign that he’d heeded his warning, and the grip on his shoulder loosened. 

seonghwa felt his heart shatter at the sight of you crumpled on the ground, pale blue robes dirty and blood-stained, helpless and injured. it took every ounce of self-control for him not to run over to you and wrap you into his arms and hold you. he knew that you would never forgive yourself if something happened to him or the others, and that you would continue to blame yourself for their deaths, no matter what. seonghwa bit back tears as he watched hades sneer and curse at you, hands curling into his white robes, the soft fabric bunching in his grip. 

the others were fast asleep at the cottage, and that fact alone made seonghwa’s heart settle, just a bit. seonghwa was glad that they weren’t witnessing the horrific scene before him, for he knew that the sight would be too much to bear. 

out of the corner of his eye, he noticed mingi, armed with nothing but a sword, clutching it in his hand tightly, and a shorter man with shoulder length hair was with him, body stiff with tension. it was maddox, who he had seen occasionally at council meetings, quiet but not afraid to speak his mind when needed. 

seonghwa felt his blood run cold when mingi finally stepped out of the shadows, with maddox trying and failing to prevent him from being reckless, and held his sword out in front of him, the silver blade glinting in the dark. 

hades’ dark eyes shifted towards the newcomer, and the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips was enough to make seonghwa shudder with fear. “look who decided to join us. if it isn’t the hero himself.” “let her go.” mingi hissed, body tight with tension. hades chuckled darkly. “and why would i do that? what could a mere human like you offer me, a god?” “it’s me you want dead, isn’t it?” seonghwa’s heart dropped into his stomach at the naked fear on your face, and clutched the fabric of his robe tighter. don’t be so reckless, seonghwa wanted to scream, but he knew that if he were in mingi’s position, he would’ve done the same, so he forced himself to stay quiet. “i would take pleasure in seeing your untimely demise, such is true, but what would you give me in return?”

seonghwa racked his brain for a list of possible things mingi could offer to the god, and cursed under his breath when he realized that the only thing the latter could give hades was his soul. “i’ll trade you my soul, but only if you agree to break the contract you have with her.” 

hades’ dark eyes flashed dangerously. “you do know what selling your soul to me entails?” mingi nodded. in doing so, i enter a state of servitude, until you decide to give me freedom.” 

your eyes widened in horror, and seonghwa watched, heart aching, as you struggled to your feet, unable to stop the tears from streaming down your face. “mingi, do not  sacrifice your freedom or your soul for me. i don’t deserve to be saved.” “don’t say such things! you’re brave and selfless and-” “i am not! i’ve been working with hades all this time, trying to find out your weakness so that he may kill you! i don’t deserve to be saved or sought after by someone who is righteous and honest and brave. i-” you broke off at the sight of the confused, angry, and devastated expression on mingi’s face. nearby, hades chuckled darkly. 

“i’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, it seems you two have many things to discuss.” hades drawled, tone dripping with mock sympathy. with a flick of his hand and a long, tired sigh, the god of the dead disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. mingi turned his head away, closing his eyes, as if the sight of you was too much for him to bear. 

“why?” mingi asked in a soft voice, confused and hurt. “i did not want you to find out this way, especially with hades in our presence. i never meant to hurt you, i-” 

 “you lied to me?” “yes, but i-” “but you what? thought it would be amusing to lead me on? to rip my heart out?” you visibly flinched at the uncharacteristic coldness in mingi’s voice, and seonghwa gulped nervously. 

“please, i can explain-” mingi shook his head, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “i never want to see you again, and don’t you ever think for one second that i’m going to come to rescue you from whatever danger you might face. you disgust me.” he snapped, voice as cold and hard as steel. you reached out helplessly as mingi turned on his heels and walked away, not bothering to look back, and that’s when seonghwa couldn’t bear to watch any longer. 

seonghwa ran out from his hiding place and pulled you into his arms, rubbing comforting circles on his back and whispering soothing words in your ear. “h-hwa. h-he hates me.” you sobbed, curling your fingers in the fabric of his robes. seonghwa could only hold you tight as you cried into his chest, feeling his heart ache even more. 

you returned to the cottage with seonghwa carrying you in his arms, your heart heavy and face tear-stained. your robes were filthy and torn, but seonghwa didn’t seem to mind as he had lifted you into his arms almost immediately, insisting on carrying you home. you felt tears prick your eyes at the sight of hongjoong, san, jongho, wooyoung, yeosang, and yunho standing nervously at the front of the cottage. 

san practically tripped over his own feet trying to get to you, stroking your hair back softly as his violet eyes scanned your body, looking for any injuries. “we were all so worried when we woke and realized you and seonghwa hyung were gone. we thought you two had been taken, or killed, or-” “san, i’m so sorry. i’m sorry for worrying everyone. i seem to always cause trouble whenever i’m with you, and i always feel as if i’m a burden.”

“you could never be a burden to us, darling, we just hate seeing you get hurt.” yeosang strode right up to seonghwa, caramel eyes bright with anger. “you let her be injured? you watched as she got hurt and verbally harassed by hades? what kind of friend are you?” he asked, a harsh laugh escaping his mouth. before seonghwa could respond, san stepped forward, violet eyes bright with warning, gripping the comedy muse’s shoulder tightly. “that’s enough, yeosang.”

yeosang pursed his lips tightly, shook san’s hand off him, and stormed into the cottage. “i-i’m so sorry y/n, i should’ve done something-” you shook your head, reaching up and cupping seonghwa’s chin gently so he’d look at you. “none of this is your fault, hwa, and give yeosang time to clear his head, i’m sure he’s just angry because i’m hurt and he needs someone to blame.” “i just hope you two don’t resent me.” you scoffed, shifting so that you were a little more comfortable in seonghwa’s arms. “we will not.” 

seonghwa smiled gently down at you as he carried you into the cottage, and you let yourself fall into a deep sleep, the ache in your heart subsiding, just a bit. 

mingi buried his face into his pillow, soft sobs wracking his body. maddox sat slumped in a chair nearby, his expression grim. “i’m sorry your first love had to end so tragically, kid.” mingi didn’t reply, only cried harder, feeling as if his heart was going to spill out of his chest. 

-end-

a/n: i hope you all enjoyed this! i know this was super lengthy and probably sucked, but there will be a part three! i’m not sure of the title yet, but i already have a few ideas in mind :) anyways i love you all and thank you for always supporting me and my mediocre fics lmao 

tagging: @maatz, @hwacinth-main, @twancingyunhoe​ , @victonite​, @hongism​+anyone else who wants to read this 💛