#NEVER MIND NEVER MIND U CANNOT IF U GO BACK TO CAMP IT GETS U STUCK AA

[tamagotchikgs]

this bitch is so fuckd up my god

[amywritesthings]

hey hey! hope u dont mind being asked 👉👈 would astarion and tav from better strategy enjoy valentine's day?

i have never done this before on my blog but it's been a minute since we've visited the better strategy so rather than headcanon -- i can write up a drabble for you?

Pairing: Cleric!Tav x Astarion (in The Better Strategy universe) Summary: Tav celebrates Valentine's Day. Astarion does not. And when Tav gives Astarion a gift, he's not convinced it's special. Or free. Tags: Set in Act 1, Valentine's shenanigans (idc if the holiday doesn't exist in this world because it does in mine!), fluff, Astarion's pov, explicit language Notes: 1K word count / dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Dearest, this is a dead flower."

Between his ivory index finger and thumb lay a beautiful red rose, shed of its thorns -- how Tav managed to find one in this deserted clearing full of spidery weeds and wilting mushrooms is a mystery the vampire may never solve.

Then again, that woman could find just about anything beautiful in a sea of rot and decay. The longer he's spent wandering the shores and hilly plains of the sunlit world, the more convinced Astarion becomes that she is not a cleric but a witch.

A witch that bewitches, truly, because if it were anyone else? Say... Shadowheart? Gale? This flower would have been tossed over his shoulder and left to the insects.

Not that Astarion is upset with receiving a flower from the Selune cleric -- the contrary, he would find this strangely endearing --

If he hadn't seen her give bloody Wyll and Karlach something just an hour or two ago when he'd appeared busy, nose in a book.

(He wasn't reading a fucking word.)

So much for that flutter of feeling special, like he's finally gotten somewhere with this woman in his not-so grand scheme.

"I don't need a participation weed," he adds in a sickeningly sweet voice as he holds the flower back to her. "If you plucked apart a bouquet to give to all of us so that we are more inclined to visit that Githyanki Creche you've yammered on about for the last few days, then I cannot--"

"It isn't!" Tav interrupts in a squeak, effectively quieting his dramatics. She holds her fists, one hand over the other, to her chest.

He can practically smell the eagerness rolling off of her in waves.

"It... well, it's a gift," she explains. "Not a bribe."

"A gift," he repeats.

"Yes. For Valentine's Day."

"Valentine's Day?" he repeats again, unconvinced.

The half-elf smiles small. "A small festivity my people celebrate. Typically met with gifts, particularly food. We're running out of rations, though, so I thought it ill of me to--"

"Gifts are meant to be special," Astarion interrupts with a clearing of his throat, narrowing his eyes.

"They are," Tav agrees softly, as if she sees nothing wrong with what she's done, and he scowls.

"So then how is it I am to find this flower special when I've watched you go about this camp offering gifts to everyone here?"

There.

He hopes she feels bad about it. Maybe he'll convince her that there are other things they can do if this holiday is so special -- something that requires merely stepping into his open tent, shutting the flap, and finally getting somewhere with this journey.

(He has yet to seal the deal, yet she provides him with gifts? Though they can't be that important -- everyone else received something from the young moon cleric, too.)

Yet Tav furrows her brow playfully, turning her chin over her shoulder. "You were watching me give gifts to others?"

As if he's been caught redhanded.

Wait.

"Well, yes -- I admit, there were other gifts." A-ha. Thwarted. "Admittedly they were quite disastrous. There's only so much I can find in the forest without something going awry. I found Karlach a ripe apple. Wyll, a quill I managed to dig off of a dead traveler."

Neither of those sound very lavish.

The vampire contorts his mouth in confusion.

"And what of Shadowheart? Gale? Lae'zel?"

"Gale... a frayed book from the goblin village," she continues. "Shadowheart, some bread, though she thought I poisoned it." The Selune versus Shar fight lives another day. "And... Lae'zel is tricky."

He knows Tav, at least enough to know that's polite-speak for Lae'zel wouldn't accept any gift that was not offered post-spar.

Which leaves... him.

With a rose.

A dead flower, yes, but it's beautiful and ripe.

"Why a flower?" Astarion asks, twirling it between his fingers. His voice is not as cutting as it was at the beginning of this conversation.

The vampire is simply curious.

He manages to glance up just in time to see how she squares her shoulders, chin lifted -- like she's embarrassed her explanation will leave him laughing in her face.

Yes, very curious.

"The color reminded me of you," Tav finally relinqushes, and Astarion cannot help but purse his lips.

"Red. Because of... blood." He tsks under his breath. "Darling, we must broad your horizons if your mere word associations arrive at colors--"

"And they're beautiful!" she adds in a rush.

The two stop for a moment to stare at one another -- Astarion, sat idly on his little cushioned chair, and Tav, holding her hands so tight to her chest she may lose circulation in her fingers.

"Roses can be quite dangerous if you don't handle them correctly. Delicately. Nicely. They're sought after by anyone who admires beauty, but no matter how many roses you see, they're always so... immaculate and breath-taking and beautiful. And so when I managed to find one that was live and well, I plucked it with my own knife and thought who better to give one to on this celebrated day than you."

Astarion can feel his throat tighten.

"And besides, roses are very sacred to the holiday, so I thought you should have it."

Sacred.

Breathtaking.

His crimson eyes study Tav's mortified face for a moment more, before tipping the petals towards his nose. The faint scent of the flower tickles his senses, and the vampire can't help but feel...

Gods, what is that feeling?

Appreciation?

No, something else. Something he doesn't quite have the word for yet.

"It is," he agrees slowly. "Beautiful."

Does Tav find him beautiful?

The cleric clears her throat and takes a step back. "If you wish to throw it away, then I will not protest. It is your gift, therefore you do as you wish with it."

When she turns on a heel to panic-run back to the fire, the vampire stands to his feet and disappears into his tent. With his back turned, he takes one more lingering inhale of the flower.

His gift.

Something he owns.

Something that is entirely his.

Beautiful.

(He'll find another way to thank her, some day.)

[mango-parfait]

10 Years

Part 1/?

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x Lyusya 'Lou' Melnikova (OC)

Warnings: MDNI 18+, strong language, canon typical violence, war related topics, mentions/descriptiond of a miscarriage, implied trauma, hunting of an animal.

Word Count: 2.8k+

A/N: Just a bunch of drabbles I've written of Keegan and Lou with the intention of exploring their relationship during the years right after ODIN, to the current events in Cod Ghosts. I thought that they deserved a little bit of spotlight instead of gathering dust as unfinished drabbles. The years will not be in order unless I ever decide to continue the series. Thank you to @moosch, (And a few other mutuals) for encouraging me to post this because I'm way too scared to do it ;;u;; And also thank you for encouraging and enabling my russian literature brainrot that has influenced my writing style <3

Chapter summary: Lou goes out hunting beyond the walls of Fort Santa Monica. Her mind racing and muscles tensed and tight - Keegan had called her a liability, looking at her with a look she could only describe as contempt. Her mind wanders, memories comes back. Keegan comes looking for her to bring her home.

Year two, 2018, Fall

Leaves crunch under her boots- a sound filled with the childhood joy of running and leaping into gathered leaf piles in the backyard of her home, now just a thrum in Lou’s mind. Instead of the passing of a season, it’s a bone cracking under her weight. Orange hues of the trees and foliage- a reminder of lasers coming down from the sky, it’s still hard to forget the sound the ground made when it cracked open, and the screams of the people around her. 

"Eyes on the ground, Lyuda. Look for movement in the leaves, dips in the soil. Nature tells you everything you need to know." Her father’s voice rings in her ears. Rough and scratchy, an indication of one cigar too many. Back then, she'd do anything to avoid going into his study every Saturday morning because of the smoke and stench that clouded every inch of nose - but now, she'd give anything to see him again.

She walks on, each step a tense moment- her eyes darting around the ground. Tracking for games, tracking for Federation movement, it was the same. Maybe there’s game out here in the safe zones - a deer maybe, or a squirrel, or a rabbit. Maybe she’ll get a rabbit or two and bring it back to the guys at base, Merrick would be happy, so will Ajax, Torch, Kick and- 

Her chest surges in anger and bile rises in her throat. She swallows it down and presses her rifle closer to her body.

Keegan.

"Civvie like you shouldn’t be here, could’ve left with the trucks to the camps and yet you chose to stay. Dumb move, rookie."

His voice, low and serious- as it always was, rings out in the silence of the barracks hall. Cerulean eyes burning into hers as he folds his arms across his chest, gazing down at her with a dissatisfied look- or perhaps disgust, she cannot remember. 

"Elias thought he was doing you a service, taking you in and then throwing your ass at me to babysit. You’re not Ghost material, you’re a liability, should’ve left when you could."

No, her mind is wandering. He didn’t say all that- he wouldn’t.

"You’re a liability, not a Ghost."

That was all.

Reaching a small stream, she kneels down to brush her fingers along the dirt. A dip. A tiny indent in the soil, a rabbit maybe- It made sense for animals to gather near a stream for a quick drink.

She crumbles some of her biscuit rations onto the dirt and puts a good amount of distance from the stream to hide behind some boulders.

She waits, her mind starts to wander.

Anya, her baby sister- only a teenager when Lou left Russia to study in America. She promised that she would be home for New Year last year. Now she’ll never see her again. Was her hair still as golden as the wheat fields and eyes as brown as wet soil? Whatever she’s doing now, hopefully she's happy doing it. 

Time passes as Lou sits quietly in her hiding spot, eyes scanning the stream to see whether any animals have taken the bait. A rabbit appears and she readies her rifle the way her father had taught her as a young girl.

But she doesn’t listen to her father's words this time- it’s the Ghost Sergeant's. The anger surge in her chest once more at the thought of him. 

"You’re a liability."

Oh, she should’ve socked him in the jaw for calling her that.

The Sergeant knew how to get under her skin, spot her weaknesses and make her correct it immediately, his gaze always hard, sometimes even bored- either way, it's hard to read his expressions sometimes. He was strict and had taught her how to fire a rifle more efficiently, tackle long distances, control her breathing, to kill quickly, to survive one more day- one more op.

To survive.

To fight.

To live.

"Tuck your elbows in. Hips tight. Shoulders don’t pass your heels. Stock against your shoulder. Again. Do it again. One more time. Nice shot. Good job. Not bad."

Four months as his mentee. ‘Rookie’- he called her, part of the team and not yet part of it. The name had stuck and everyone started calling her that. It had even gotten to Elias, his hard face blurting out said nickname in a mission debrief. She hated it. 

A bullet fired from her rifle- the rabbit falls. Perhaps this will do for now, Lou can clean the carcasses and then bring them back to the butcher’s for processing and get meat jerky out of them. More meat in her ration packs and something she can share with the guys. Picking up the carcass and clearing it out right by the stream, her focus remained sharp as the carving knife in her hands twists and cuts its way through the tendons of the rabbit- stripping it of its skin.

Keegan had asked her once whether she had any knowledge of wildlife during a training hike after she had pointed out bare patches of grass in a passing field, saying that it was caused by one too many deers going through the same route over and over again. 

"No, sir. I just read it in a book once."

She wasn’t really sure why she lied to him.

Dunking the rabbit into the water and letting the water carry its blood along its streams, she keeps the image of the sergeant’s face in her thoughts. The day he called her a liability, his brows were furrowed a little more than usual, the frown was obvious even with the knit layer of his skull mask. The op wasn’t a tough one- if it could’ve been considered an op, just some quick scouting trip to a mall with minimal Federation patrols that they avoided easily. Afterwards, it was just a matter of setting up a vantage point, collect intel for Command, pack up and head home. It was easy, even for a rookie like her.

But she couldn’t recall what she had done wrong to make him call her a liability- maybe she adjusted the scope on her rifle incorrectly, maybe she had worn her shirt inside out. Or maybe he just felt like saying what he always thought. Either way, Lou couldn’t deny the emptiness in her chest when he said it to her face getting back to Fort Santa Monica, his eyes burning down at her as he folded his arms.

All she could do was just stare up at him with confused hurt. 

She impatiently digs the knife into the carcass, incision ragged and forced to get its guts out.

Her father’s voice rings in her head once more. "Be careful, daughter. Nice and easy- like painting a brush or like when you’re helping mother sew." She ignores him again.

The way she twisted the knife felt like the first person she had killed. A federation soldier- most probably a recruit sent out to scout the area where the hospital was. She would’ve let him pass if he didn’t choose to turn the corner that led to the room where she was hiding with a couple of the kids.

A stab into the neck with a crooked screwdriver, she held onto him even when her hands were slick and slippery with his blood. Only letting go when his body went limp in her arms.

A liability. Liability. Might as well make it a cuss word at this point, judging from how much it pissed her off. How can she be a liability when she went through basic training, did so well at long distance shooting that Elias had a long talk with about joining the Task Force?

Why a liability when she went through another month of training under Elias just so that he could start her way up to becoming part of the Ghost team?

Why a liability when she had suffered what she had suffered in No Man’s Land for four months when ODIN’s missiles scorched and cracked land for miles?

Why a fucking liability when she has fought, killed, starved and scavenged for those four months?

Dipping the carcass into the stream once more, Lou watches the blood staining the water and lets itself be led away by the current. The sight reminds her of sooty tiled floors of the bathroom in the ruined hospital, her lower half soaked in the blood that pooled beneath her. A miscarriage- that was what the medical staff told her. They said that it wasn’t her fault, supplies were running out, and with Federation soldiers constantly swarming around the hospital- it made it hard to scavenge from the other buildings in the vicinity.

The memories of deep dark blood made her nauseous and Lyusya takes in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. The baby she had lost, Constantine for a boy and Anya for a girl.

The mother she could’ve been. Now she’ll never get her chance.

So why would Keegan call her a liability when she had suffered what she suffered. What was all the pain, tears and blood for then? If she had gone through all of that just to be tossed into civilian camps and coaxed to live like normal then all that she had gone through in No Man’s Land would’ve been for nothing. 

Nothing at all.

Memories return. The piercing pain on the day it happened was like a million daggers to her stomach. The pitiful stares of the women as they tried to help her. Tried to. There was nothing much they could do.

Dirty bathtub. Tap not working. Ash and soot in the air. Blood flowing from between her legs. Gunfire in the distance. Her mother's face comes into view. She'd be there to wipe her tears and clean the blood off her.

“Rookie.”

Her thoughts come to a complete silence. The voice- so familiar. So hated.

Keegan.

She turns to look over her shoulder, unable to mask the scowl on her face.

He’s unmasked this time, dark stubble all throughout the jaw and around the lips. The blues of his eyes dimmed significantly without all the black fabric covering his entire body she sees him in so often. The bane of her existence fully clad in issued USMC shirt and pants with his dog tags hanging off a beaded chain around his neck.

Keegan wasn’t smiling, but she could detect the tiniest hint of amusement in his eyes. Oh, how she must look to him right now- the woman that attacked him in No Man’s Land, his rookie- cleaning game by the stream on an autumn morning just outside base.

“Knew you were lying to me about not knowing how to hunt.” Keegan takes a few steps forward and tilts his weight ever so slightly to loom over Lou to see what she was doing- it took everything in her not to bristle at his intrusion, he was not a welcomed sight at the moment.

“Ajax said you were outside for a walk. Never heard of someone going for a walk with a pocketful of knives.”

She turns away from him and lowers her gaze back to the task at hand and gets to cleaning the second carcass. “Just needed to clear my head, sir.”

“To hunt?”

“I was hungry.”

“That you have to hunt?” He takes another step closer and kneels beside her to watch. If he couldn’t sense her irritation growing just by being near her, then it’s clear that he’s deliberately ignoring it. “Could eat the chow back at base.”

“No.”

“No?”

“The rations are not sustainable, sir.” She hurriedly follows up, dumping out some bullshit excuse.

Keegan snorts and then stays silent. Watching her cut the guts out of the rabbit carcass with such practice and precise movements as if she had done this a million times. When he guessed that Lyusya knew how to hunt, he pictured coffee by the campfire, holding daddy’s guns and cheering him on- something he’d see in a movie.

How much did he know about the woman that he saved from No Man’s Land? Not much, that’s for sure. Something’s off about her today- he already knew why.

A gust of wind passes and Lou could smell the sea on the man. She knew he’d gone for a naval op with Merrick to do some scouting on a Federation submarine last night- they’d left out the details because she was a ‘rookie’. A full night of swimming, scouting and fighting. What the hell is he doing here then?

“You could have just asked to use the shooting range for a bit, clear your head that way.” 

“Out here is better..” She plucks the carcasses out of the stream. “Go back to base without me, sir. I won’t be long.” 

He stands up with a grunt and places his hands on his hips, eyes scanning their surroundings. The safe zones outside the Fort were as safe as they could be - if the Federation keeps to their word. As nice as this patch of grassland was, it wasn’t as safe as his rookie would like to think.

“Like hell you are.” He tells her with a sigh, frown forming on his lips- she’s so fucking stubborn sometimes. “You’re lucky enough to catch game out here, but it’s gonna run out the longer you sit on your ass. Time to go.”

Lou doesn’t look his way- the scowl on her face is better hidden from his eyes as she works on wrapping old newspaper around the carcasses and places the bundles in a canvas bag.

And to be honest? She doesn’t want to go back anytime soon. Her heart aches to wander around the open fields a little bit more. To be able to feel like a girl once more, not the broken woman she was after ODIN, and certainly not the woman that’s training as a recon sniper, fighting to survive one more day and being trained by the blue eyed son of a bitch that called her a liability.

Fuck, she’s so pissed about that and him being here right now isn’t making it easier to not snap. 

“Just leave me alone.” She stands up and sweeps dirt off the knees of her pants. “Why do you care? I'll be back in an hour.”

He huffs and folds his arms, eyes glaze around their surroundings once more. “You're not making this easy.”

“A liability never does, sir.”

His eyes narrow at her, only to be received by defiance. But Keegan's eyes didn't hold any malice just irritation and maybe a tinge of confusion. He remembers what he said to her after their mission- the hurt on her face was enough to be seared into his memory.

A year since ODIN, a year of constant fighting. This war was expensive, tiring and a drain on resources. Keegan was tired- he’s been tired since Sand Viper. If it weren’t for the loyalty for his fellow marines and the entire Ghost Team, he would’ve packed up long ago. Move to the property in Missouri that’s been on his mind, and maybe even raise some chickens.  

But here is his little rookie, the woman who spent her childhood in drama school reciting Shakespeare and reading Classics like drinking water, a woman who could- with every chance she got, choose to leave when she could. But she didn’t. Elias told her that she'd make a recon sniper, and like a little puppy, she lapped up the compliment like canned wet food.

Keegan had never meant to hurt her the way he did. She could’ve lived a normal life again and yet- she’s here. 

His rookie.

One can’t help but shoulder the responsibility.

“Whatever you are, it's time to go back to base.” He turns to walk back in the direction of the fort, its walls safely within sight.

Lou was reluctant. She could follow- then again, she could turn in the other direction and walk further into the treeline. But when Keegan turns - she freezes, her mind fights to stay. 

“Come on, rookie.” He says to her, voice unexpectedly softer. “I'm not leaving you behind.”

He doesn't walk until she does. A couple of steps forward, a tentative gaze in his direction- he continues down the trail back to the fort with her in silence.

-End-

[gizdathemxel]

my hot take on purity culture is that nobody knows how to be normal about sex :3

(tw for sex, puritanism, pedophila (?) [not explicit tbh], and shitty discourse)

call me a puriteen n all but like has it not bothered you to ever think of why so many young people are sex negative (definitely not a culture and internet that puts us in sexual situations when we are far too young and far too uncomfortable) ? has it ever bothered u to ask why so many young people are not performing critical media analysis (definitely not a lackluster education and culture that dissuades us from thinking deeper about the media we read) ? when I was a minor I could not tell you how many people i knew (me included) struggled with porn addiction bc we were exposed to pornography when we were FAR too young. young people are taught to be ashamed of and fearful of sex while simultaneously having their sex lives being put on blast 24/7 for others to jack off to, and you expect us to NOT act out about it?

like yes, you are absolutely right that sex (esp queer sex) is a totally normal thing and that you should be allowed to write wtv you want to write and share it among other like-minded people! yes you’re absolutely right that sex is a huge part of queer history that has been historically wiped away and that needs to be preserved !! i will not argue that puritans won’t jump at any chance to censor and shame and discriminate against anyone they deem a deviant!!! that is true!!

but you cannot expect a bunch of young people, still educating themselves, still figuring out their sexual identity in a world that shames and sexualizes them, still figuring out how to truly interact w media to have already know that. you don’t have to educate them but like there’s no need to be like “erm…minors amirite 😒” when a block will suffice

it’s so ridiculously revisionist to act like the internet is ‘sanitized’ or is perfectly filtered out so that minors stay in minor spaces and adults stay in adult spaces. there are people posting porn on tiktok, on twitter, on tumblr, on every fucking platform one can think of (including youtube). it is truly not that hard to encounter adult material even when you’re a minor. people will gladly send you porn or similarly graphic stuff even if ur a minor. you literally couldn’t have looked up mlp on GOOGLE back in the late 2000s/2010s and not be shown mlp porn. there’s an infamous porn video of mlaatr where the main (16yo) character gets raped by rock creatures, and it looks JUST like the show’s art style. so it’s very likely that there’s a generation of people whose very 1st sexual exposure was watching their fave characters be placed in inappropriate sexual content when they were children. so yay learning about sex thru bastardization!!

and combine that with young people who have never actually been taught how to explore their sexuality and instead learned “if ur even horny for a minute you will go to hell and die” ur going to get ill-adjusted young people who do not know wtf theyre doing. u are going to get people who are going to bump their heads a fucking lot.

ill be honest and admit that when I was a kid I was definitely within the puriteen camp bc gw!! I was a queer kid who just started grasping their sexuality in the middle of the pandemic and all I had was unrestricted access to the internet, that gave everything to me at 110%

I am not asking that every space be wiped squeaky clean just in case that a minor might be present, but I am asking to extend a little grace. Drop educational sources a so called puriteen should refer to!! Show how that kind of puritanical thinking can do actual harm to marginalized people!! Don’t get in internet spays w kids!! Just block and move on!!

(also i will forever be giggling at that one comic abt a minor entering an “adult” space and then getting mad at the adults there and calling them pedos just for the ‘adult’ space the op was talking about to be sophia the 1st nsfw fanfic. i literally cant)

[muff1nqwq]

sorry i havent been around in a while, things have gotten crazy, im sure you get it. my first day of being a sophmore (10th grader) starts tomorrow and while im not extremely nervous it is also 11:50 at night and i have to wake up at 6:15, ignore the specific time as it is never specific, its an estimate at best.

i have this thing called band camp that has been going on for the last couple of days. basically i play my trumpet (her name is Margaret) for 4 hours in preparation for football season (im in the band, we have to play at football games) idk where you are ofc, so to clarify, this is american football. the concussion sport.

i picked up tarot reading and it's super silly, i would recommend. its funny to think that the cards are supposed to have their own personality. id say that i dont see it, but they told me to shut up once, sassy ass cards...

i havent been hurting myself as much because of how busy i am + how cold it is. a thing about me is that i cannot ever cvt when its cold. maximum discomfort. 0/10 stars. not funky fresh.

my ex and i started talking less often and im kinda glad it happened, which might be mean to say, considering were friends still, but theres so much to do, to worry about that i can barely keep up with things.

anyways, i think thats most of it. btw if you ever dont know how to respond to one of my rambles, id love it if you might just add your own story? about anything!!!! i like hearing from you!

— rin

hiya Rin :DDD I missed u!!

GL in school!! I'm gonna b a Freshman this year and I'm excited-nervous abt it... At least its gonna b the same ppl ( even though the principal warned us abt a rush of new students, but its better than going 2 a brand new school ) I gotta fix my sleep schedule so bad, I stay up till 3am and wake up at noon :'3

:0000 IM IN BAND TOO :DD I play clarinet :3 ( btw I love how u called football the "concussion sport" XDDDD )

Tarot reading sounds so cool :000 i rlly like astrology and numerology ( I'm an Aquarius :3 )

4 me it's still hot af here, even though snow melted like 3 weeks b4 summer break :> but yesterday I went 2 go walk my doggo and right as we were turning back, it started raining, and my dumbass didn't bring a jacket and I was wearing an oversized T-shirt and shorts, so I was running ( in flip-flops ) 4 ten mins in the rain tryna get back 2 my house lolol X'3

That sounded like a line from a book I read a few yrs ago XD ( but I hope ur still finding time 4 urself :) )

A few nights ago I was rlly, RLLY hyped up 4 highschool... Same school, few new kids, new teachers, maybe a new rep... Then I thought abt what my rep would b like. I mean tbh I don't mind if I'm known as a weirdo furry theatre kid, but last yr my ex-bestie spread nasty rumours bout me, manipulate me and my friend group, and overall make everyone avoid me. At least my friends knew what she's all abt and stuck w me 4 the whole yr, but like... What if the rumours spread 2 the new kids and bad stuff happen?? So then I stayed up thinking bout that and at 2am I multiswiped 10 times and I named the cvt Jeffo :3 ( I haven't cvt in weeks cuz I didn't have many Band-Aids left )

Have a good day Rin :DDD

-Muffin

[al9ayf]

ᥫ᭡ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | raphael x f!tav

｡˚ word count: 13.5k

｡˚ summary: tav and raphael have a history together prior to the nautiloid ship. she is to be betrothed to him, but he has something to take to ensure that she is his.

｡˚ a/n: my first bg3 fanfic so i hope u enjoy !! raphael is my favorite character and i wish u could romance him but oh well. anyway i will probably write more with this specific pair because i want to dive more into this relationship and story. i think it is very interesting.

｡˚ explicit content :: non-consensual (beginning), spitting, blood, p in v, dick sucking, ass smacking, pussy eating, intoxication, stealing virginity

the cold air finds solace in the cracks of your lips, and you would have shivered if not for the wyvern whiskey rushing through your veins. it becomes the warm pair of arms you’ve felt so many times before: like it was your mother embracing you all over again. you feel her hold you from behind and squeeze you tight as if she’s scared to let you go. but you were the one who was so scared. you miss that warmth that she brings you, that gratitude and happiness. and instead of finding it with her, you find it in this near-empty bottle. it gave you that false security and happiness, but it was shameful. it’s sinful how much it makes your cheeks flush and eases your mind. yet despite it all, it relaxes you.

the bottle is in one hand, raised high as you stretch your limbs. your free hand reaches as far back as it can to grasp at nothing before both hands come back down as you quit your groaning and stretching. you finally set the whiskey down on the table in front of you before you can indulge in it any further. you stare at it for a moment, pondering taking another sip, but you turn around and walk away. it was a sinful act—one you shouldn’t be enjoying but cannot help but do. as more time passes and the fear of the absolute taking control over everything creeps into your mind, you feel guilty about not praying to your gods and instead turning to drinking. but you can’t help it, can you? your prayers weren’t being answered. and they haven’t been answered in a very long time.

but tonight you stopped yourself. tonight, halsin had stepped in and expressed his concerns over the habit. he was the one who convinced you to set that bottle down and seek some time with nature. and maybe, just maybe, he was right. maybe that time with nature is just what you need, and not an addiction.

so you walked away from your companions to stand at the lake a few paces away. you occupied your busy mind by embracing mother nature’s gift and taking in your surroundings. but it was difficult to do since it was dark save for the light of the full moon, the fire from your camp, and the lights of the city. your eyes had wandered into the deep woods across the dark waters where no sound came from. it was dark and empty, much like the world around you.

the people of baldur’s gate needed a sober savior, not a drunken one. and tonight, you had somewhat of a clear mind for once.

you groaned and rubbed your face with your hands, specifically your eyes. you rubbed them especially hard and then looked back out at the water. it was peaceful—not a single ripple affecting its stillness. if only your mind could have the same effect. the tadpole is never quiet, and so is the emperor. with every thought that crosses your mind, he feels it. he knows it. but you don’t know if he is actively peering into it. if you were dumb enough, you could say the thrall had no particular interest in you. but you weren’t dumb, and you could tell that he wanted something more than just companionship.

but you couldn’t blame him. you were a very popular suitor for marriage.

you came from a noble family in baldur’s gate before getting snatched away by the illithid. you had a life promised to you granted the fact you would be married off to an asshole. but no asshole in baldur’s gate could ever compare to the one who has since come into your life at the ripe age of fifteen. he was unlike any other—with an attitude rivaling that of the gods and martyrs, and an ego so high it reached the peak of mount celestia. the devil was that man.

you only think of him because you can smell him; the sulfur. when you think of him he always appears, almost as if he’s the emperor himself. guaranteed though, the devil has always had great timing. but you have felt his eyes long enough on you tonight, and it is now that he makes himself present to you. he’s inviting you to converse with him. you turn around to catch where he is standing, but he’s not there. in that moment, you think back to the time you read a children’s book about how the devil loved to play games. and now as an adult, you realize that they only loved to play games they knew they could win. and that is how the devil knew he could win your heart and mind over so easily.

you then feel two warm hands cover your eyes. you don’t move. at first, you suspect it is astarion playing tricks on you, but then remember the only person that knew you were here alone was raphael. goosebumps run up your spine at the realization that he has gotten this close to you without you realizing it, and it makes you flinch. you could feel his smirk forming at the mere sight of you jerking under his touch. the soon-to-be hero of baldur’s gate flinching under the warm touch of the devil? it sounds pathetic after your adventures with gods and powerful enemies.

“my, my, what have we here?”

his voice is loud enough for your ears only to not alert your companions who are only a few meters away. you just so happen to be in a more private spot at the camp where the lake lies, and of course, raphael had to take advantage. too many questions would be asked if everybody saw the two of you together, alone, for they did not know your history prior to the nautiloid ship. it would be more of a nuisance to you than to him.

he removes his hands and you quickly turn around to look at him. it has been quite a time since you last saw him. and although you have changed, he hasn’t. not one bit. not a scratch on his hand, a blood splatter on his face, or a bruise. he is exhilarated, and you are exhausted. but at the mere sight of him, you feel more awake than ever. there is no need for alcohol, nature, or prayers when you have him. and you almost regret comparing prayers to being in the company of the devil; almost regret.

when you first met raphael it was at a masquerade ball held by your parents. they were devout followers of the heavens, and somehow, in some way, he managed to become a close confidant of theirs. of course, your parents never knew who he was, and probably never will. he never had any interest in your parents, but rather in you. you had no interest in raphael either—but that was only when you first met him. your opinion since then has changed, but you refused to admit it aloud to yourself or him. especially not him because it would fuel his big ego even more. even the day before you were kidnapped when he had asked for your hand in marriage, you still would not admit your feelings to him. but why would he want your hand anyway? you are no devil. you are no god. you aren’t a person of importance to him at all. just a pawn in his game of lanceboard, and he was the king.

but when it dawned on you now why he wanted to marry you, it all became clear. when he invited you and your party to his house of hope to accept his deal. when he kept playing nice to win that game of trust. when he spun you back into his embrace, alone, in that dining room of his and confessed to you, and you only, that you were the only person to secure the crown of karsus for him. only then, did you realize he only wanted to marry you to seal you in a contract forever. in a debt, forever. to trick your parents into signing a deal with the devil when they had dedicated their entire lives to their gods. to be one with them in mount celestia. the utmost betrayal would be marrying their only daughter off to a cambion, the heir and child of mephistopheles. and you too, would be the greatest sinner this world has ever laid eyes on. a young woman of god, making love and producing heirs for the devil.

only then did you realize how important of a pawn you would be. a pawn that would reach the end board and become a queen, just to be discarded after checking the enemy king. and after knowing the truth, you did not pray to your gods for help, no. you turned to a more sinful life. killing to save yourself. deceiving others for the benefit of surviving. drinking yourself away and losing any purity you had to you. allowing a vampire to suck your blood, allowing lustful visions of a wizard and druid to creep into your dreams as you try to sleep, and allowing a githyanki warrior to speak to you like a whore in a brothel. when you entertain those actions instead of stopping them, you realize how sinful of a child you have become.

but now, to have the devil have his hold on you? to allow him to hold you like your mother. to let his words rush through your veins as if it were drinking wyvern whiskey. raphael has played tricks and games on you ever since you were fifteen, and now, only now, does your heart succumb to the devil after years of resistance. do you blame it on the tadpole or yourself? when you look into his brown eyes that disguise his true golden, orange ones you see a flicker of fire and trickery. you shiver at the mere thought of when he first presented the idea of marriage to you while your parents happily stood by him. when he had looked at you in that moment and you swore you saw yourself in prison bars in the reflection of his beautiful eyes.

you swore when your parents had agreed to the idea you felt chains wrap around your whole body. back then, you didn’t know that raphael was a devil. all you knew was that he was a cunning man only put there to deceive your parents for whatever selfish reasons he had. you had compared him to the devil once before because all you saw was a man who would own you for the rest of your days. the devil that would ruin you with just one look.

and ruin you he did.

you want to say you hate him. you want to hate the devil and love the gods. to imagine yourself in the embrace of the clouds of mount celestia and lay there in an eternal slumber of bliss and peace. but you have found yourself in hell first. you have found yourself falling for the devil each moment you think of him. his red skin, his fire eyes, and his four horns that lay perfectly perched on the top of his head. and in his human form, a man who knows of only wise things and deceitfulness. raphael knows, and he knows very well, that you are enjoying him with each appearance of his that he makes to you. whether it be a quick whir of the moment with you privately or a public appearance to all. he sees the way you look at him with less hate and with more awe. how you stop presenting yourself with that heroic look of yours and almost bow to his mere presence. how tense you look when he gives you the most attention out of everybody.

nobody knows that you are engaged to the devil. it would cause quite a stir in your camp if they ever were to find out.

that is why when he holds you, you stop resisting. you enjoy it when he flatters you and makes you blush. you enjoy the games he plays. your late-night visits to the vampire’s tent stop, your sinful thoughts of the wizard and druid stop, and the githyanki’s comments come to a halt. for you retire to bed alone now and think only of the devil. you don’t touch yourself because you think acting on it is how it becomes a sin, and just merely thinking about it happening is alright. but you have tricked yourself just like how the devil plays tricks. the greatest sin of all is entertaining the thought of being with the devil in more ways than one.

and you want to blame all of it on raphael, but he has cast no spells on you or devilish incantations or rituals. it was only your behavior that forced you to stray away from the gods of celestia. a behavior only you had complete control of.

so why do you keep doing it? do you enjoy him so much? you do not know him. you will never know him.

“has the little mouse found herself a new toy to play with?” raphael asks, circling you like a cat. has he been watching you converse with halsin all night? his movements are precise, and his strides are long. he stops behind you again, and this time you don’t turn. the more you look at him, the more you feel you sin. you feel a shiver run up your spine when he traces his finger from the back of your neck down to your tailbone.

“don’t touch me,” you thought you said in a demanding voice, but it came out as a broken whisper.

raphael only laughs though at the pity attempt and retracts his hand from your body. you have no right to speak to him in that manner. you, after all, are nothing compared to him. you are just a person whom he will marry once he returns you to your parents back in baldur’s gate. he will have you in that contract before you do anything to get out of it. you will be his, forever, and so he will have his hands on you whenever he wants to.

“that’s no way to speak to your fiancée now, is it?” he asks.

you don’t say anything. you just stare at the dancing shadows of your companions by the campfire in the middle of your camp. how you long to run to them to escape his clutches. and you can. it is so easy to. he is not holding you back, and has even allowed you to run to them. that is why he purposefully stands behind you to play that game once again: the game of tag. the game that you will never win with him because it’s not a game he always wins, but a game you always purposefully lose. you lie to yourself, but in your heart, you want to be in his presence, always.

raphael frowns when you don’t say or do anything, but his frown turns into a grimaced look on his face as he grabs your wrist and spins you around to look at him. you gasp as you bump into his chest, and he grabs your chin to force you to look up at him. you quickly try to pull away, but he holds onto you tighter. he could break your wrist so easily right now, and snap your neck in one swift movement.

“you will face me when i speak to you.”

and you can only nod out of respect. respect? raphael rubs your bottom lip and smiles again. “see, my love? it isn’t hard to listen to me. i promise it will make your time with me much easier.”

he leans in close to your ear and moves his hand that grab your chin to your hips. “you do not want me to punish you so early on in our relationship, hm?”

you are powerless against him. you have fought countless enemies, slaughtered them even. you have fought a chosen of the dead three and killed a god. you have faced the githyanki queen and rid of the shadow curse. but when it comes to the cambion, you are nothing. and maybe you like to be nothing.

it’s difficult when you move your head to look at him. you want to talk but he has you at a loss for words. you can only abide by him. “why are you here, raphael?” you ask.

“why, to see you of course.”

“but why?”

your voice has that hint of urgency—but why? raphael can only smile wider because he knows it’s from your fear of somebody walking in on the two of you. most likely it will be halsin to check on you after you have stayed quiet for far too long. you gulp.

“you’re paranoid, aren’t you? scared that one of your so-called friends will happen across the two of us in a warm embrace. what ever will they do when i tell them that you are betrothed—to me.”

you look away again but then quickly look back up at him. you do not want to anger him, and you do not want him to tease you.

“one feels so exposed out here, raphael…” you murmur. your voice is low enough for his ears only. you were made for him. “please, don’t be loud.”

you beg. you only ever beg for him, and he knows. he watches you more than your companions watch your back. he knows your every curve and every move. he knows what position you like to sleep in, and what food you dislike least when it is time to eat. he knows that one strand of hair that always annoys you during battle, and when you are about to menstruate. he knows everything about you. you have never begged for anything in your life, but when he is with you, you are born anew.

it would bring such joy to raphael for everyone to see the scandalous position you have put yourself in. all it takes is for one loud word to come out of him. maybe step out into the light and bring all attention to him. maybe call out to one of your friends and bring them here to witness your broken self. but he keeps that luxury of your humiliation to himself and his house of hope. neither your parents, servants, nor your friends can experience it—only him. only he is allowed to hear your begging. but my oh my, would it make him smile to see you break down in front of everybody. to see them lose faith in their leader when they watch you beg a devil to shut his mouth. to see you collapse on your knees in front of him like the slave you are.

“a little louder, love, just enough to have your friends wondering what you are doing out here all alone,” he smirks.

“raphael, please…”

he doesn’t do anything. he doesn’t say anything. you can barely raise an octave because you are so afraid of exposing yourselves. but at the same time, he is irritating you to a surprising level, even to him.

“take me to your house of hope, we will talk there,” you almost cry. “please, raphael.”

“louder,” he demands. you cannot say no.

you grab at his collar tightly and look right into his eyes. you want to shake him and suffocate him. you are tired of his games, but you still play them. you are tired of yourself. but even when you threaten to cry, he doesn’t move. why would he care about your feelings? even if you harm yourself in front of him and threaten to kill yourself, he still won’t care. after all, he has told you that there is always another after you to take the crown, even if it takes millennia.

“raphael, please!” you yell, almost too loud for your liking.

you hear your name being called out by a certain someone almost immediately, and you whip your head in the direction of the camp. wyll was coming. was it not loud enough for raphael? you know he can hear the speed of your heartbeat quicken with every second that passes. he’s waiting. he wants to make you panic even more. and as wyll’s footsteps get louder, you tighten your grip around raphael’s clothes even more. your tears gather in your eyes. how could you be so vulnerable and so easily manipulated? it was so degrading.

and right as wyll’s devilish horns peek into your view, you are whipped away just like that with the snap of raphael’s fingers. wyll comes into the darkness of where you once stood only to find nothing. he turns to look back at his companions who are mindlessly doing their nightly routine, then back at where he thought he heard your voice. when the smell of sulfur enters his nostrils, he scrunches it in disgust. the cambion was with you, and now you both are not there anymore. wyll, despite his disgust at the devil, respects what private business you have with him. he will take the night shift if you are not back before sunrise, but he prays you do not do anything rash without discussing it first with everybody.

you find yourself still in raphael’s arms in his house of hope. the room is all too familiar when you step away from him and sit down on a lavish chair, panting heavily. the large portrait of raphael hangs above you, just as he is right now in his devilish form in the room he first took you and your party to. the feast hall now has skeletons riddling it with plates of rotten food. the stench almost makes you gag, but you stop yourself from pleasuring raphael with such a reaction.

he laughs at the pitiful sight of you. you now have freshly dried tears staining your cheeks and a heavy heart. it upsets you even further how you have succumbed to the devil’s doing so very easily every time.

“you really are my favorite client,” he says joyfully. “i enjoy every minute of you.”

“i wish i could say the same,” you say, looking up at him.

“now, now. don’t be like that, my dear. we don’t want such negativity right now, do we? after all, we have much to discuss.”

he extends a hand out to you. you look at it. you take it. and it burns pleasurably in your grasp as he helps you up from the chair and leads you out of the feast hall. you have not once left his fancy and furbished feast hall, but the corridors of his house look just as exquisite. he lets go of your hand the moment you step out into the hallway. in silence, the both of you walk to gods knows where. you are nervous.

“you never answered my question,” you remind him respectfully.

“you have asked many questions,” he said with such tease.

“but to you, only one.”

he stops outside of a door that a servant is peering into. he smiles down at you.

“you cannot outsmart the devil, my dear girl. there’s this little voice inside of you asking: “is this my will, or is it the worm’s?” but you have no answer, and no way of knowing.”

before you can say anything, he snaps his fingers and you are now inside of the room, but on the balcony still facing him. your heart quickens again, and it is only pumping the fuel in his veins.

“i have this picture in my head—of you tossing and turning in the middle of the night, thinking strange things, dreaming strange dreams. the good thing is, though, there’s only one little voice you should listen to.”

he grabs your chin and leans in close again. your breath hitches in your throat and you suddenly feel that you can’t breathe anymore.

“mine.”

he slowly backs away yet you still feel breathless. you take deep breaths in and deep breaths out. raphael chuckles.

“but ah, where were we?” he turns to look out his balcony and out into the views of avernus. “about you…”

you go up next to him, still looking at him. he intrigues you more than you would like to admit to.

“do you not have any idea as to why you are here?” he asks.

“no, i don’t.”

“take a look around then, my lost virgin. look and you will know.”

you don’t want to look. you don’t want to know. you want to go back home and hide yourself away from the world forever. you want to fall back into your mother’s arms and stay there until you take your last breath. but you can’t do that. instead, you do as he says. raphael takes pleasure in seeing you obey his every word. as you turn around and start heading into the room, you spot a lavish red bed next to where you are standing, as well as countless paintings of raphael again. behind a screen is a large tub with multiple fountains, and there are lavish items strewn across the room. and that is all. this is a room just for pleasure and nothing else. it clicks in your head why you are here when you think back to what raphael has called you, and why he has brought you into this room specifically. one of the greatest sins of all.

“you’re so very pathetic, love,” he says, now right behind you.

the insult doesn’t sting you anymore. it is the way his hands hold your hips that does, and you step away from him and back yourself up into the bed. it makes him raise his eyebrows in surprise.

“you’re an eager little pup, aren’t you?” he asked, coming closer.

you extend a hand out to stop him from coming onto you, and it comes in contact with his chest. he stops for his entertainment, and not because you wish him to. it is a dangerous game to play: trying to tell the devil what to do.

“is that why you came to me tonight? to have sex with me?”

“does it sound so terrible?” raphael asks, placing his hand on his chin. “i will not have the patience or time for your virginity when i claim the crown. tonight, you just so happened to make my day now that you are one step closer to the brain. tonight, i will wreak havoc upon your body and you will find the utmost pleasure in it.”

he mocks you. he mocks you because he knows pre-marital sex is a large sin you can easily avoid. having sex with the devil makes it even worse. the gods will never forgive you, raphael knows this, and it is the only reason why he wants to have your body now. to humiliate you in front of the gods and to ruin you. you know he has another to sleep with who could take on the form of whoever he pleases. he could have sex with an incubus posing as you, but tonight, he wants the real delight of breaking you. he doesn’t care about your faith or your mission. right now, all raphael cares about is destroying whatever purity you have left in you.

you try to push him away but he grabs your wrist easily. “your gods left you the second your mind started to fill with dirty thoughts of me,” he says. raphael grabs both of your wrists and pins you to the bed. he moves them above your head and crosses them to hold your wrists in one hand, while the other grabs your chin again. you frantically move your head but it doesn’t do much.

“they say the eyes are the windows to the soul. and when i look into yours, i see all of your greatest desires,” he says. “but there is one that stays in your mind. it is what you call your strange dreams and your strange thoughts. the image of me.”

he inhales your scent and it excites him. the scent of a virgin.

“no longer will it be strange imaginations, my dear, but a nightmare come true.”

he leans down and kisses you with a force so strong it catches the breath in your throat. you’ve never been kissed before. as a young girl, you’ve always dreamt of your first kiss to be with your husband during your wedding underneath the stars. to look upon his eyes on a beautiful, clear night in the backyard of your palace as you lean in for the perfect kiss. and for raphael to take it all away from you, just so easily as that, forcefully too, was a cruel joke. you want to hate him for it, you really do, but your body betrays your mind and kisses back. you enjoy this. you enjoy his heated kiss and his devilish touches against your skin greatly.

raphael pulls away, but not without biting your lower lip first and tugging at it with his sharp teeth to draw blood. you whine and pull your head back, and he laughs. he moves away again and lets go of you, but you are so flustered and heated from that kiss that you just lay there sprawled out on his bed. raphael smiles.

“agree to be mine and you will know pleasure, forever,” he says. “you will know what it is like to live lavishly in the comfort of my house of hope. under my protection.”

you shake your head. you don’t know why you shake it, but it is mostly because you want him on you again. you want him to bite you like that. to be rough. but then you realize what you just did and what you just thought. and your blood runs cold. these impulses do not act on your own accord… or do they?

raphael smirks again. “maybe if i show you, you will agree.”

he snaps his fingers and your clothes are off. you try to cover yourself immediately, horribly flustered as to what he just did. nobody has seen you naked, except for your servants and now the devil. you curl into a ball but it doesn’t last for long. raphael snaps his fingers again and ropes from the headboard of the bed appear and grab onto your wrists, dragging you to the middle. raphael stands in front of the bed now, but your legs are propped up to hide yourself from him. you are breathing hard and almost on the verge of tears. this isn’t real. it can’t be real. not with the devil!

“tsk, tsk. we can’t have you be like this the whole time.”

he snaps his fingers again and ropes now grab your ankles and spread your legs apart. you yell in surprise and now struggle to hide yourself. it doesn’t work, but raphael is loving every bit of it. you throw your head back into the pillow and squeeze your eyes shut.

“leave me to my gods and heavens, and i will give you the crown of karsus!” you yell. “that is my deal!”

“that’s not how it works, dear,” he says. “your gods have already abandoned you. you have committed far too many sins for them to forgive you. there is no place for you in those white clouds, but there is here. you’re sitting on it already, my little mouse. you have found yourself down here—with me. and that is where you will always be.”

“liar!”

he gets on the bed in between your legs, and you flinch when his leg comes in contact with your thigh. “i have never lied to you, my dear. i have only ever told you the truth.”

he leans over you, hands on either side of your head. you are completely held down. hands held above your head and legs spread apart all for him, and it will only ever be for him. nobody will ever see you like this, and nobody will have you like this. your heart is beating so fast from anxiety and nervousness that you can barely breathe. raphael kisses you again, and you can’t help but kiss back. you lie to his face but the truth is in your heart. you say to him you don’t want him, but you do. your body lights up like a flame every time he touches you. it reacts in ways you never thought possible. raphael knows you want him even if you say you don’t. it’s so obvious.

he stops kissing you and you find yourself chasing after his lips for more. raphael laughs in your face and sits back up.

“the day i met you, i remember everything, i wrote it down,” he says, grabbing your chin with one hand and lifting it.

his tone changes and so does your body language. this was a poem you had written about him after you had met him the first time. a poem you had written over and over and scratched it out for years before finding it again. and when he took you to his house of hope for the first time, and nightfall came, you took out a quill and paper and continued it on your little stool you had in your tent. you finished it in mere minutes, and from then on always carried it around with you in your pack. you want to say you don’t know why you do so but you do know. it’s because you are infatuated with him. maybe that’s when it all started. when your prayers stopped being answered and the only company that you had was him. maybe when your heart wanted him is when the seven martyrs abandoned you. you were damned. but you didn’t want this to happen. you didn’t want to fall for the devil, and yet here you are, not resisting his attempt to take you as his.

“your smile was cold, your hair was fresh,”

he moves a stray strand of your hair out of your face and cups your cheek. his nail is under your eye, and you feel it dig into your skin, warning you not to move unless you want a new puncture wound. you hold very still and listen closely to your poem coming out of his lips.

“your eyes were such a shade of brown,”

he moved his hand away and slid it down your body slowly. you jolted when his finger slipped in between the space of your breasts and stayed there, touching the soft skin. you wanted to look away so badly to hide your shame and embarrassment, but his eye contact with you was so strong you couldn’t. you had to relax under that devilish gaze.

“you press your ear onto my chest,”

he moved his hand to your left breast and squeezed your nipple, hard. you gasped at the pain and tried to move away from him, but the ropes only got tighter around your wrists and it only made you cry out in pain. raphael used his other hand to do the same with your right breast, and its pleasure was so intolerable you couldn’t help but thrust your hips upwards to meet his thigh. you wanted him, but also wanted away from him. make up your mind, damn you.

“you hear the speed my heart will beat,”

he kisses your breast and circles his tongue around it in an unholy way. you sigh in pure delight and throw your head back into the pillow, enjoying it so very much. your cunt aches for any sort of touch or penetration. it tingles your whole body, and yet he only flicks the hard bud slowly. it is a torture but you don’t want to beg for him more than you already did tonight. but this is the devil, and begging for them was a passing time they very much enjoyed.

finally, he sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin and you moan for him. you ride the air and toss your head from side to side. he knows what he is doing. he knows the pleasures of the female body. oh, you love it so much. you love the pleasure of sin he brings upon you. raphael kisses your breast one last time and then moves his finger down your body.

“seconds drag like days whenever you don’t want to talk or speak.”

his finger finds your clit with ease and rubs gentle circles on it. you are already wet and have been for quite a while. it’s shameful, sinful, and embarrassing. you shiver in delight under his touch and cry out a moan. you don’t want him to stop. the feeling is too good. a feeling you have only given to yourself, but now feels much better when another is giving it to you. raphael stops when he notices you are enjoying yourself far too much, and quickly moves his hand away.

“raphael…” you whisper, breathless. if this is only a small slither of real pleasure, you cannot imagine what he has waiting for you. for a second, you don’t care whether it be full of pain. you want that carnal release.

“this can be your life, my little mouse,” he says. “a place of protection and pleasure, and of course, most importantly, a place by my side forever.”

you don’t say anything. you just stare at him with half-lidded eyes and a distressed look on your face.

“and if i refuse?” you ask.

he leans in close to you again, still holding that infamous smirk of his. “i find it very hard to believe that you want to refuse me. not when your body reacts so beautifully to my touches.”

his hand grazes your nipple again and you shiver. he only proves his point easily by doing that, and you still don’t want to say anything. raphael is a patient man, you will give him that, but when his patience runs thin and you spot his brows furrowing… you want to run. he has entertained you long enough tonight, and now you will experience his rage. in more ways than one, he will destroy you. he will make you scream his name until your vocal cords have been destroyed. you will beg for his mercy and he will not give it. you will beg for him to stop, and he will not, for you have danced around his deal for days now and tonight was the end of that. he will show you what it means to mess with the son of mephistopheles.

you will no longer be a virgin with wings. no longer will you be a devout follower of heavenly martyrs, but a devoted wife to the cambion. to the devil raphael. to the man who will ruin you over and over again. you will give him the crown of karsus and bear his children, and forever live your life as his slave. and maybe, just maybe, it seems so pleasurable and delightful.

he snaps his fingers and now all of his clothes are off. you become wetter by the second as you take in his body. his cock, thick and large, just waiting to be thrusted inside of you. how will your virginal self ever be able to take that in one night? you have never even slipped a finger inside of you before. fear clouds your eyes and now you are scared to take him in. but raphael doesn’t care about your pain, he only cares about his pleasure.

“look at you, dripping wet all for me,” he rubs his knuckle in your wetness, teasing you. you hum in reply, enjoying the feeling. raphael rubs small circles around your most sensitive areas, eliciting soft moans and whimpers from your moist lips. he is preparing you for what is to come. that is the least he can do for you.

he slides a long finger in you, pumping it in and out slowly just to see your reaction. you shift uncomfortably, unsure of the feeling. raphael smirks and moves it in further, noticing that you had already ripped your hymen (most likely from outdoing yourself in a battle). you moan when he goes past it, finally feeling that pleasurable spot you never had experienced yourself. he suddenly inserts another finger, stretching you out more. it hurts and you tear up from the pain. the pleasure has gone and all you feel now is his fingers roughly hitting the spongey area inside of you.

“it hurts!” you cry, shutting your eyes and allowing your tears to fall. and this is just the beginning as well. you allow him to continue though, not bothering to thrash your body to force his fingers out of you. because the more he pumps and lets you adjust to it, the more pleasurable it becomes.

a pair of footsteps comes entering the room, and you hear a familiar chuckle coming from beside you. you open up your eyes to see what appears to be a younger-looking raphael bent down beside your head, smiling at you sadistically. you don’t give much of a reaction. you only look at him, then at the devil between your legs readying you for the loss of your virginity.

“my, my, what a pretty one,” the fake raphael smiles. “is she the one you speak so highly of? the lost virgin with wings?”

raphael only rolls his eyes at the incubus and then removes his fingers from inside of you. you feel empty all of a sudden, but when he pushes you up further against the bed, allowing the ropes to untangle around your ankles, you see him bend down and spread your legs even further apart. you try to back yourself up but his grip on your thighs tightens. your ankles have been freed, and yet you do not try to kick him. you instead relax in his touch and sink into the fine silks of his large bed.

“i will break her and clip her wings,” raphael says, moving his head closer to your cunt. “i will take her virginity and claim her as mine, haarlep.” he suddenly snaps his head to look at the incubus. “leave.”

his voice was demanding. he wasn’t inviting haarlep to tease him or play with him. he was serious, and with a grin and wave, the incubus left without another word. raphael probably instilled an indescribable fear in him. a silent fear. a hushed one. yet you do not feel any fear from that voice of his. only an ache you’ve never felt before. an ache that leaves you wet.

raphael notices almost immediately, and without a word or warning, dives his head in between your legs and kisses your cunt. you jolt at the light touch and sigh all at the same time. it feels so good.

“you are mine, little mouse,” he says. “do you understand?”

you open your mouth to say “never”, but he places his lips back on your folds and you moan loudly. his tongue laps up your wetness over and over again, and it tickles your whole body. you bite your lip to stop yourself from being too loud, to attract anybody from coming and peeking, but you can’t help it. you moan out his name, and he moves his lips from your folds to your clit and sucks on it.

the sensation was something you’ve never felt before in your life. you tried to shut your legs on him, to stop him from sucking too much but his hold on you is so strong.

“raphael!” you moaned. you squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back. he brings one of your legs over his shoulder to spread your legs even further, and it makes it all the better. he only sucks on it more and more and you try to thrash around to get away from him, but it doesn’t work. it felt so good, but it was all too much. it was so much pleasure that at one point, the nerves stopped, and you finally felt it.

you lay back down comfortably and sigh delightfully. raphael pulls away but quickly sticks a finger in you, thrusting in and out at a rapid pace. it feels good too but his tongue feels better, and so does his lips. you whine his name and buck your hips toward his face. he laughs at the pitiful state you’re in. you’re so humiliating when your bottom lip is all pouty, your body responds to his every touch, and the way sweat is already glistening on your skin. your cunt clenches around his one finger tightly, and all raphael can think about is how great it will feel to be in you. to rip apart your insides and finally claim you as his. to convince you, finally, to marry him before you defeat the brain. to have you sign a contract bound in blood, make you one of his, and forever be at his side. to secure the crown of karsus and a powerful ally all in one move.

he slips a second finger in and you squeal, arching your back again off the bed as you start to now cry a little. but he does not care. he knows you want his lips back on you, and not his fingers anymore. but dear, you need to be prepared for him.

“raphael…” you whine again.

“say it.”

his voice is deep and the thrusting of his fingers intensifies. it’s rough and it hurts. his nails scratch against the walls of your cunt and it makes you bleed. you can feel it, but you can’t see it. it hurts more than it brings pleasure, but you don’t want to admit anything. you bite the inside of your lip and lean your head back against the pillow to shut up. you won’t say it.

“little mouse, that won’t work…”

he presses his thumb against your clit and rubs painfully, slow circles on it. you gasp and hide your head behind your arm as best as possible, but the more he does it, the less you can keep quiet. the roughness of his fingers but the gentleness of his thumb breaks out a delight in you. you don’t want it to end. you want more and more. this is all you’ve ever dreamed of.

and you break easily. because that is all it takes for him to claim you that fast.

“i’m yours,” you quietly moan in the comfort of your arm.

he moves his head back down. “say it louder, my dear. say it louder so the heavenly martyrs can hear you from down here, and know that i have plucked one of their angels. they will know how i clipped your wings and stole your virginity.”

he places his lips back on your clit and you yell. you’re smiling. “i’m yours, raphael!” you moan, bucking your hips into his mouth. “forever!”

the ties around your wrists come undone and your hands shoot to his horns, grabbing them to drag him closer to you. you’re moaning louder than ever before, and you believe that the heavenly martyrs can truly hear you. raphael, the cambion, has finally claimed you. and all it took was his tongue.

you grind your hips into his face, moaning as he keeps on sucking on your clit. his tongue occasionally licking at it to never stop the waves of pleasure crashing into you. you want more and more. you don’t want him to stop. you can stay like this, forever, and never want to leave. raphael is right. all you could ever want is here, right in his house of hope. and that all you could ever want and need will be fulfilled by him.

your movements get more erratic the more you feel the pit in your stomach tighten. your movements get faster but sloppier, and you feel yourself about to cum. but raphael stops and moves away. he pushes you away from him and you shut your legs almost immediately, embarrassed as to how he pushes you aside. you see your wetness on his lips and it makes you flustered and your body heat up. but that pit in your stomach dies down, and now all pleasure is lost. you feel defeated and upset. unsatisfied.

“why?” is all you can ask.

raphael snaps his fingers and your places have been switched. now he lays comfortably with his back against his mountain of pillows, while you are at the edge of the bed. you finally can see his erection in all its glory. how your moaning and face fucking lead to this. how his cock will soon be buried inside of you any moment now, and it will be the worst yet best pain of your life. his cock will take your old self away. it’ll take your virginity, and all that will be left of you will be his. and you have never been so eager.

“have you touched yourself before, my dear?” he asks.

you can’t help but stare shockingly into his orange eyes. he was absurd. and so you nod, but then he snaps his fingers again and you find yourself now sitting on his lap. he grabs your throat tightly and moves you back. your last gasp of air leaves your lips, and you grab his hands to stop him from squeezing anymore. you couldn’t breathe.

“you have a tongue still. speak.”

his grip loosens just enough for you to use your words.

“yes,”

“have you ever touched anybody else?”

“no, raphael…”

he smiles at your answer and moves his hand from your throat to your head. he pushes you lower and lower until your face is up close to his erection. he runs his hand through your hair and grabs a thick chunk of it, tugging it to force you to look up at him again.

“then tonight, darling, i will break that. and if you satisfy me enough, i’ll give you the release you so desperately want. but only if you are a good little mouse.”

he caresses your cheek and smiles a little more. “and i won’t stop. you will beg and you will cry, but i will not stop until i’ve had my fill. then, i will ruin you…”

he moves his hand back to your hair and guides your head down to his dick. you don’t know what to do. you grab it so gently and place your other hand on his abdomen as you press your lips to the tip of it. you swirl your tongue around it before licking up its length. he’s quiet though, and it’s unnerving. you quickly take him into your mouth without another thought and start bobbing your head up and down his length. finally, raphael lets out a content sigh and pushes a few strands of hair out of your face.

it makes you wet knowing he likes it. that he enjoys your mouth on him, just as you did with his. you move your hand up and down at a good pace, not too slow nor too fast. you don’t want to tease him but you don’t want to try and finish him fast. you want to know what he likes. you want to explore his body as he does yours. you truly believe in your heart and mind that this will not be the last time you will be on your knees and stomach for him. and you’ll gladly do it over and over again.

he is hot; a cool burning to the inside of your mouth. it burns pleasurably, a feeling that is difficult to describe. you lose control over any willpower to run out of there, and to god knows where. your body melts into the bed as you mindlessly suck on him. you want all of him against you and in you. you take him in deeper and deeper and move your hand faster and faster.

it is quite a surprise how good you were. how fast you were able to discover what made him groan and jolt under your touch. his hands grip your hair tighter than before and you swear with one wrong move, he might take off your head. he is gripping so tight, that you start to feel some hairs getting pulled from your scalp. and it hurts badly. yet, you don’t focus on that. you don’t focus on the incoming headache and instead focus on wanting his release.

you move your mouth back up to his tip and lick it again, fast, as your tongue dives into the little hole and swirls in it. raphael moans and you open your eyes to watch him. his mouth is open and his face is contorted into an expression you’ve never seen before. an expression of pure bliss. your eyes lock with his and he gives you that infamous smirk of his. his sharp teeth a pearly white, and his eyes glowing more than usual. you hum against his throbbing cock that’s still in your mouth. raphael moans at that feeling and leans his head back against the pillows.

“you’re such a good little mouse,” he says in a deep voice. you hear the pant in his words, and it makes you so happy knowing you could leave the devil breathless.

you take him out of your mouth with a “pop” and smile at his compliment. you want to kiss him. to kiss his whole body and worship him like a god. he would soon be one once you deliver him that crown and you could be by his side even if he treated you like a slave. such power in his hands as you live a life of luxury and painful pleasure. it doesn’t seem so bad.

you gather the spit in your mouth and let it drool onto his dick. it drips from your lips slowly, and you use your thumb to rub it all around the tip of his cock, lubricating him more. you move your hand up and down again, watching as your spit slides up and down. raphael’s breathing grows heavier with each stroke, and when you put his cock back into your mouth and take him so deep. that it hits the back of your throat, he moans loudly.

raphael notices how quickly you moved back though, and so he quickly dragged your head back down his dick, forcing you to take more of him in you. you almost choke on how big he is, and how it hurts so bad. you can’t breathe and yet it doesn’t matter. it’s so disgustingly beautiful. you bob your head faster and faster, enjoying the sounds he’s making. raphael starts to guide your head, not allowing you to stop. he was almost there, almost on the brink of release.

his voice gets deeper and his moans are louder. you’ve placed both hands on his abdomen now as you just take him fucking your face. it makes you cry, how badly you cannot breathe, and how bad it hurts the back of your throat. tears run down your cheeks and onto him, and he laughs at the state you’re in again. so cute yet so humiliating.

“swallow it all, little mouse,” he says. it’s a demand, not a suggestion. he doesn’t say what will happen if you don’t, and you don’t want to know. you’ve never done this before and you don’t know how you’ll be able to take him all in.

with a few more thrusts into your face, raphael cums and lets out the sexiest and deepest groan you’ve ever heard. his load is hot and it burns your throat. you try to swallow it all, but there’s too much and it doesn’t stop coming. you moan and try to keep up, but his cum starts to drip down your chin now and down your throat. he pushes you away again and pants heavily. you’re still crying when he looks at you. your chest has his cum on it, and so does your mouth and chin. you look like a mess: a hot mess. and raphael loves it.

you go to wipe his cum off your mouth, but he leans forward and grabs you, kissing you immediately. you moan into the kiss and wrap your arms around him, enjoying it greatly. you can taste yourself still on his lips, and as his tongue forces its way into your mouth, he too can taste himself. and it’s safe to say that he tasted better than wyvern whiskey. a sweet yet tangible taste to it, he had. it was the complete opposite of what he is in nature.

you feel his hands grab your breasts and squeeze them, pinching your nipples so hard they almost bled. you gasped into his mouth and started to grind your hips against his, wanting that sweet release from earlier. raphael laughs in your mouth and pulls away.

“you are pathetic,” he says.

you look up at him with your big eyes and fucked-out face. it catches him off guard as to how beautiful you are. with his cum on your body, the little prick on your lip from where he bit you earlier, the messy hair, and beautiful skin. you are almost as beautiful as him. he can’t help but stare at your glowing features (caused by your sweat and his cum). you see raphael’s face soften, but it goes away as fast as it came.

“i am pathetic,” you murmur. “i am whatever you want me to be, raphael…”

your voice was low and soft. it was sultry and sexy, something he never would have imagined to come from you. and by the nine hells did it make him painfully hard again. he kissed you again to stop looking at your pretty face and to shut you up. he felt his nature soften when you spoke and it angered him how the tables have turned so easily. how that one look of yours made him crumble. you would not pull that sorcery again. not now, not ever. the devil raphael wouldn’t bend to a mortal’s charms, ever.

he moves forward until you’re lying on your back with him on top of you again. raphael doesn’t waste any time by moving back down in between your legs and licking up the wetness that now found its way in between your thighs. he sucks on a spot that was particularly wet and close to your cunt, and you clench at nothing and breathlessly moan. he then bites down, hard, and you yelp in pain. it bleeds now, and raphael licks up the blood like it is the richest of wines. it throbs painfully and you whimper because of it. raphael does not care though.

he places his lips back on your cunt and starts to lick again. he swirls it around your wetness and uses his fingers again to make you reach your orgasm quicker than before. but you have been on edge since then, and having to suck him off while not being able to touch yourself was undeniably the worst type of pain you’ve felt in your life. raphael, now feeling how wet you were with two fingers, painfully thrusts in a third one. he removes his lips and twists and turns it around to see how you adjust.

you cry even harder and have to wipe the tears away from your eyes. it doesn’t even feel good, it just hurts. “stop!” you cry. “it hurts!”

“i need you to be prepared for me, little mouse. pleasure will overcome pain, but only if you allow it to. don’t resist…”

you try to relax, but he doesn’t slow down. you can’t tell if he’s lying or not because you’ve never had anybody do this to you before. it scares you, honestly. but the faster raphael jams his fingers in and out of you without sucking on your clit, the worse the pain is. you cover your eyes and think about praying to the heavens to come and save you. but nobody will come. nobody will listen. you are on your own.

remember, you have lost yourself. everything you are and everything you own is now raphael’s, forever and always.

he hums and puts his lips back on your clit to suck on it again. it makes you gasp and moan, and he doesn’t plan on stopping. you feel that pit in your stomach again. it’s burning hotter than before, and it feels even better. you run your hands through raphael’s hair and run your nails against his scalp. it feels good to him, but his lips and fingers feel even better than a few head scratches. you buck your hips against his face and cry. you’re almost there.

and when it comes, it releases like a tidal wave. you scream raphael’s name and shake under him. but he doesn’t slow down. he only goes faster. you don’t have time to slow down your breathing. you’re sensitive to the touch everywhere and it is starting to hurt. you manage to move away a little, but raphael gets upset and grabs your legs again to drag you back up to him. he is sitting up now, holding your lower body up to his face as he looks down at you with only lust in his orange eyes.

“stop, please! raphael!” you scream, trying to get away again. but his grip on you is so strong, that his nails break the skin and you bleed again. you yell and jolt with each wave of sensation that comes in, and before long, you feel yourself about to cum again. it hurts this time though, and it lasts longer than the other one.

raphael finally lets go of you and your legs drop onto his lap. you’re trying to get control of your breathing again, but your body lays half unnaturally in his lap and your hair sticks to the sweat on your face by your nose, making it difficult to breathe. you close your legs and cry onto his sheets. it hurts so much at the end, but you think about that pleasurable orgasm you have never felt before in your life. if felt like a gift. a new becoming. it was a release you could never give yourself. a release you’ve never, ever had before. and it was breathtaking.

raphael spreads your legs wide open and you shriek. you go to shut them again but he smacks your ass hard with his tail in reciprocation. it stings and you hiss in pain.

“don’t defy me!” he snaps.

you shiver under him. “i’m sorry,” you whimper. you open your legs for him and he positions himself comfortably in between them. this is it. this is finally it. whatever you have left of you will finally be gone... you tear up again and close your eyes, inhaling sharply. raphael leans over you and kisses you softly on the lips, tugging at the bottom lip a little. you kiss back instantly, enjoying the taste of him and you. but then he pulls away to tease you, and you reach your hand up to touch his cheek. his skin is so soft and he leans into your touch like a cat.

“wrap me around your little finger,”

he’s reciting your poem again. it sounds better coming from him than it does from you, but the question arises again as to where he found it and how he acquired it. it was always on you, but you don’t dare to ask him now. he holds your hand with his and caresses the back of it with his thumb.

“wrap me around your wedding ring,”

he kisses your hand and moves it away to grab your hips. raphael uses one hand to position his cock at your slick entrance that was so sensitive and needy. he looks up at you to see the nervous look on your face. and with the slightest movement of his hips, he slips inside of you rather easily. you arch your back off the bed and reach for him, but he doesn’t give himself to you. not yet, anyway.

“your words, they take the shape my body makes,”

he thrusts into you slowly, and you moan.

“isn’t that the scary thing?”

he grabs a hold of your hips with both hands now and helps you find the rhythm. you only feel pain though and he’s barely in. you feel the inside of you burn with pain and rip apart from his cock and it burns with the fire of the nine hells. you don’t want to cry this time. you’ve cried enough and this time you want to keep your eyes open, clearly, and see what is happening to your body.

and he is glorious.

his body is beautiful, and the smooth bucking of his hips into yours is like an instrument. its sounds are beautiful and pleasant, and all nerves and pain wash away when you relax into the bed and let him take you. raphael’s bliss enters your tadpole-occupied mind and all you feel is the pleasure of his dick inside of you. it thrusts at a constant speed with such great precision. from the time you have been here, he makes it seem like he’s known your body for years.

his touches are that of a lover’s, and his care is that of a stranger’s. but with every other thrust, you feel him go slightly deeper each time. his cock stretches you out more each time and you watch it with a lustful look in your big eyes. you’re so intrigued by the sheer size of his dick.

but when raphael sees you enjoy yourself too much again, he always finds a way to ruin it. he suddenly thrusts hard and stops.

“raphael!” you yell in pain.

you feel yourself start to bleed. the pain could be intolerable to most, but you were not like most people. it hurt, badly. it felt like every inch of your body was going to rip. you want to relax, you want to calm yourself down. but it hurts even though he’s not moving. you steady your breathing, or at least tried to, and bathed in the hurt. he slid out slowly and thrust back into you with the same amount of force as last time. you cried and yelled with each time he did it. you bled and bled all over him.

your blood drips onto his bed and it matches the color of his sheets. a dark red that matches the color perfectly, and it was soon forgotten about. raphael roughly grabs your throat roughly again, and you fight against him this time. he slams his lips against yours and kisses you again, and it’s rough. there’s no passion or love; there never was. but he was hungry for you, and his fervent kisses were hard and fast. you could feel your soul drain and belong to him. he moves his head to your neck and bites down harshly, drawing blood immediately. you grab his shoulders but find yourself not pushing him away. you dig your nails into his skin and push him up closer to you.

it hurts. it hurts like a bitch when all you feel is his sharp teeth dig into your skin and his dick takes slow, painful thrusts into you. raphael could use a spell to make it better for you. to not make you so tight and tense but he likes to see you hurt and squirming and squealing like a mouse in a trap. to see how you bleed as you take him in painfully and cry and cry his name and beg for him to stop. he moves his head out of the crevice of your neck to watch the look of pleasure and pain contort on your face and your silent tears cascade down those flushed and puffy cheeks. the future hero of baldur’s gate was so beautiful like this—under the control and manipulation of the devil himself.

and when his fire pits of eyes look into your teary and puffy ones, he starts to go faster. he wants to see you cry more. he wants your pain to turn into pleasure. he wants to see your spirit falter and die.

“i cried the day i realized that lies were hidden in his kisses,”

he continues, kissing your chin right after.

“i was tangled in his arms,”

he brings you up to his chest and it makes it all the easier to hit that spot you enjoy the most. you forget about the pain and arch your back, now drawing his blood and staining your nails red. raphael goes faster and faster, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that drives you crazy. you wrap your arms around his neck and fall into him, grinding your hips each time he brings you down into him.

“raphael…” you moan, shutting your eyes.

his breathing is getting labored.

“i was his mess, his ball of strings,”

he grabs your hair and yanks it harshly, ripping a few strands. you don’t care. you offer yourself to him, willingly showing him your neck that had his bites and the vampires. raphael bites down on the spot astarion took pleasure in biting almost every night, and now covered it with his bite marks. he bites down harder than the previous ones and sucks on it. you run your hands through his hair and moan into his ear passionately. raphael shudders at the sound of your voice.

“i would give him everything,” you moan into his ear, lips hovering over it. “the nine hells and second chances.”

you finish your poem. the poem you had started at fifteen and finished only a few days ago. how your feelings for him were manifesting on a ripped and bloodied piece of paper that he managed to find on your journey to baldur’s gate. when you had written your one-way ticket to hell on your own. and how did you manage to convince yourself that you were still a child of the seven martyrs? how did you manage to keep yourself away from his many advances and sexual fantasies? from the trickery you bestowed upon yourself? you disgusting liar.

you hear raphael chuckle in between his low moans, and you hold onto him tighter. you don’t want to let go of the cambion you find yourself falling for every second.

you clench around raphael when he thrusts faster. you kiss his neck and moan into his skin, feeling the bliss of him. you want to cum so bad and so hard. you want to please him, to not anger him. you trail your kisses onto his chin, and he turns his head to kiss you again. you grab his cheek and slip your tongue into his mouth, fighting for some control. his tongue swirls around with yours and he groans into the kiss. he smacks your ass hard again, and you press yourself against him more. you clench around him again because of it, and it’s enough to almost send you over the edge. you moan into the kiss and pull away.

raphael grabs your chin and forces your mouth open, and you can barely stick your tongue out to meet his. you’re moaning as he sucks on the pink muscle and then spits right into your mouth. it drips down the side of your lips but you lick it. he did say to swallow it all.

“such a good little mouse,” he praises you, caressing your cheek.

you come to love the nickname. it turns you on and raphael can feel it. it’s starting to get difficult to breathe and raphael knows that you’re close. he lays you back down on the bed and spreads your legs wide. he doesn’t slow down. he slams into you like it’ll be the last time he’ll ever touch you. you can see stars when you close your eyes, and maybe his dick is so big you can feel it hit your stomach each time he goes in harder. your body tenses up and you start to cry again.

“i’m almost there, raphael!” you moan. “please, please don’t stop!”

you’re so sweet, so pitiful. he doesn’t plan on slowing down anytime soon. your begging is like a sonnet to his ears and he finds himself finishing inside of you. he stills and releases his hot load into you. you cry and shake, and soon you cum too. you grip the sheets and feel your life escape from your body. a feeling unimaginable; an orgasm so hard and beautiful. your back collapses onto the bed and you start to pant heavily. raphael slips out of you and uses a finger to feel the inside of your cunt. you were filled so much it wouldn’t stop leaking out of you.

raphael gets off the bed and fixes his hair quickly. you watch him, still breathing heavily, as he moves some loose strands back behind his ear. he looks at your body and notices the state it was in. blood and cum was smeared all over your sweaty body. your hair stuck to your face and your lips were bruised and swollen from his kisses. with a snap of his fingers he could take you back to your camp and leave you like that. in another time, he will, but some things needed to be discussed with you first.

your legs were pressed tightly together, likely to keep his cum inside of you. you were already missing his heated embrace and fervent kisses. you reach out a hand to him, smiling a little. his heart warms just the tiniest bit and he goes to grab your hand.

“will you accept now?” he asks, dragging you to him. he picks you up and takes you to the large bath in the room. you are still blinded by your lust for him, and although your body aches and writhes in pain from his relentless fucking, you feel like you can think clearly.

raphael sits you down in his lap in the bath, and you relax into his touch. he shocks himself with his tenderness towards you, and it makes him want to gag. but he enjoys it. he enjoys doing this for you. when your mind starts to clear from the bath, you realize what he has done. and it hurts.

“i was only a girl before you came into my life and manipulated my parents,” you say. “and because of you, i had to grow up fast to protect my family. you act like their friend. you act like you care about them. even i fell for your tricks, raphael, and then i saw you for who you are when you asked my parents for my hand in marriage.”

you think back to that night; the night before you were kidnapped. when raphael had talked with your father via letters to allow him to marry you. and when he had come to your home that evening, and your father excitedly told you that raphael had some great news for you. that you would be betrothed to him, and you saw that flicker of the hells in his eyes. you first blamed it on the trick of the lights, but when raphael appeared after the nautiloid and took you to his house of hope for the first time and revealed himself to you… you knew you were doomed.

“you took everything from me tonight,” you continued. “my privacy, my virginity, my wings… i no longer have any solace or faith in the seven martyrs that rule mount celestia, but in you…”

you turn around and look at him. he has no expression on his face, and it doesn’t shock you. he couldn’t care about your feelings, and you knew that. so why do you lay your heart bare for him?

“i’m alone.”

raphael laughs and it burns a hole in your heart. “it hurts my heart so dearly to hear you say this, my little mouse. i do not need to repeat myself. you may have been a lost virgin with wings, but as long as you stay here with me, in my house of hope, then your wings will regrow.”

you look at him, trying to study his facial features. but they’re deceiving many a time, and so you don’t know what he truly is feeling. all you know is that he has taken everything from you, and now your new self belongs to him. you lean in and go to kiss him but he stops you by placing his hands on your lips.

“enough with the teasing, my dear…” he whispers in that voice you love so much. “tell me what i want to hear. tell me what your heart desires. what you wrote for me…”

your breath hitches in your throat. he moves his hand away to allow you to speak, and you inhale sharply. was it alright to do this? everybody would hate you. but it was okay. as long as you have raphael, nothing else matters.

“i’ll marry you, raphael,” you whisper back. “i want to be yours until my soul ceases to exist. i want to be with you always.”

you lean in closer, your lips hovering above his. still, you look into his eyes.

“i will make you king of the nine hells.”

and you kiss him. raphael embraces you fast and kisses you right back, pressing your body tightly up against his. there was no need for a contract when this was something coming from your heart. you truly wanted to do this. you wanted to be by his side, lavished in sex and diamonds. you want to be his consort or slave—it didn’t matter to you. you were his. and that was all you ever wanted since he first looked at you when you were fifteen. when he introduced himself to you under the guise of a wealthy man. who ever knew you would fall in love with the devil.

—

you return to camp clothed and ready to retire for the night. wyll spots you emerging from the area by the lake where you were last spotted, and runs over to you. he can smell the sulfur as soon as he stands in your vicinity, and a look of disgust arises on his facial features as he looks at you. you don’t even have time to say hello before he says anything.

“you’ve been gone for ages, tav!” he almost yells. you put your hands out in front of you to quiet him down so nobody would ask what the problem was.

“i’m sorry,” you say, but you don’t feel all that sorry.

“what business do you have with raphael?!”

you don’t say anything at first. you only look at him and shake your head, ignoring his question. you go to move past him, but he grabs your shoulder and forces you to stay. you wince in pain and quickly pull back. raphael’s bath helped but he wanted to remind you of his marks and power over you. now that you had promised to marry him once you see your parents again.

“it’s none of your business, wyll.”

“you don’t know what game you’re playing. i swear if you signed a deal with him or—“

“it was nothing like that! we just… have a history together.”

“and you hid it from us this whole time?”

“it’s nothing serious. he just so happens to know my parents and… wanted to ask me a few questions.”

oh, but it was far worse. you had made love to him, professed yourself to him, and accepted his marriage proposal. you would give him the crown of karsus and help him take over the nine hells. it was the worst plot to come from the son of mephistopheles. it was something wyll could not even begin to guess even if he tried. but your sternness and collective demeanor convinced him that it was nothing more than that.

he softens up again and clears his throat. “like what?”

you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow. “wyll.”

“i know i shouldn’t pry into your business, but when it comes to the devil, it’s difficult for me.”

you stare at him for a heartbeat before grabbing his hands with yours and squeezing them. you smile at him gently and rub the back of his hands with your thumbs. “whatever we talked about has no concern to you guys. it was a personal matter that didn’t involve you or the tadpoles. i promise you.”

a false promise. wyll had no choice but to believe you and thank you for your “honesty”. as he turns around to head to bed, you drop the smile and make your way to your tent with pain in between your legs. finally, you collapse into your bed and stare up at the fabric of your tent. raphael was in your mind. he will forever be in your mind. he is you, and you are him, forever.

i can’t stop listening to cowboy carter forgive me <3

[revasserium]

my favorite twst characters are silver and malleus they're so sillies i wanna hide them in my pocket 🥺❤

and woooow you're already in chapter 5?? you're so fast and that means you'll catch up in chapter 7 🤩 also chapter 7 just updated in twst jp yesterday and i'm losing my marbles over it akdkkskcksks i'm so excited to hear your thoughts/theories when you catch up ❗❗❗

so idia huh hmmm i have a feeling you'll like him even more when you read chapter 6 😈

my favorite twst events are:

vargas camp (some ppl think this event is so boring but for me, it's just refreshing esp the bgm music and just some silly boys going to camping 😁 what could go wrong? 😁)

endless halloween (tho you must watch the first halloween event which is scary monsters in order to understand it ANYWAY i love the vibes here and the bgm music AGAIN lol and bc silver is here my pookiebear)

ghost marriage (all i can say is poor idia 😬)

fairy gala if (it's like the alternate universe of the first fairy gala event, i love this event bc ortho gets to shine here 🥺❤ and some ppl theorize that this event is after chapter 6 buuut we never know bc all the event stories aren't canon huhuhu 😪)

and lastlyyyyy

glorious masquerade event (i love this event bc the little interactions between malleus and yuu/the player 🥰 also we get another twisted version of a disney character! it also has foreshadowing about malleus in chapter 7)

- zella

ALSO if you want to learn/read more about the characters or just see their silliness, you can read their personal stories on miraheze site. it's complete and you can even read the voice lines.

- zella

first of all -- i did NOT know you could send asks this long in tumblr now lskdjfasij HAHA back in mY DAY *cracks back, wheezes* i think we had a character limit but damn tumblr rly said "go off, be free" huh.

but yes! im generally a pretty quick reader, and i watch most videos on 2x speed (i listen to audiobooks on 2x speed too and my mom thinks i'm unhinged for it). so since it's all subbed, i'm just breezing through it; if i weren't so attached to listening to the voiced lines, i'd just read the translations on miraheze u__u

and speaking of miraheze, yES i've been LOOKING (disrepectfully, mind you).

I CANNOT WAIT FOR CHAPER 6. i am shoved so far up idia's ass already and it's not even his chapter yet fuCK.

i'm doing the camp vargas event rn cause im in the eng server and it's cute u__u i do like the "boiz just doin boi tingz" vibe it's giving off. pitching tents n shit hahah.

i shall add endless halloween to my list! i legit didn't figure out that events had like separate stories until the last day of the fairy gala event (i am big dumb im sorry) so i only got to play through the first few chapters in game, but i'll watch the rest of it; and i'm curious about the fairy gala, if ver too.

malleus is growing on me. we love a good lonely boi arc. i love that he's like "u don't know me? that's so hot" vibes hes giving off hAHAHAHA. that's so Ultra Celeb of you, malleus. i see you, i SEE you. silver, i don't know well enough yet but my normal Type is White Haired Anime Boy, so i mean -- boxes have been checked already, ukno?

i'm quickly spiraling way too far into this universe and it's.... worrying, to say the least.

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

A/B/C/D/E/F/G/H/I/J/K/L/M/N/O/P/Q/R/S/T/U/V/W/X/Y/Z

 FROM THE CHARACTER ALPHABET WITH IVAR RAGNARSSON.

REQUESTED BY: @witch-of-letters

A - affection (how affectionate are they? what do they enjoy?)

At first? Not at all.

The only person he is used to getting affection from is Aslaug, so naturally you might earn a few sceptical looks from him if you try to get close.

Nevertheless he quickly learns how pleasant the attention of someone else can be, but tries to be subtle about it. He wouldn’t want to tell you upfront that he enjoys having you close or that he likes your touch, because he fears the rejection that might come with it.

In time, he would alert you with a little nudge here and there whenever he requires your tenderness.

Slowly but surely Ivar would get more daring, trying to innitiate the soft touches himself. If you don’t pull back, he’ll get more sure of himself and as soon as it is clear to him that you are serious about him, you’ll be the only person in Kattegat to recieve affectionate touches from Ivar without any deadly concequences.

What he loves most is either having his head placed on your chest or stomach, feeling you breathe and with your hands in his hair, or laying on the side, with you wrapped around his back.

B - bodypart (what’s their favorite bodypart on their partner and them?)

His arms.

His arms have been a replacement for his legs for all his life. Since he has to crawl everywhere until he has his crutches, they are well built and knowing that you love being wrapped inside them, makes Ivar love them even more.

Your legs.

He likes your legs because they are what he cannot have. He likes them because his are so flawed, and yet you choose to love them anyways. And he likes them due to their shape, the softness of your skin and how they look when you move around.

C - commitment (how quick are they to commit?)

Not that quick.

Ivar is reluctant, to say the least.

He needs to be 100% sure that you are commited to him, before he will make any kind of promises to you. It would be a long process full of selfdoubt, selfdeprication and fear of betrayal.

Ivar would also visit the seer and ask about a future with you by his side. The seers answers would be, as always, very vague (if he says something at all).

In addition to all those troubles, his brothers are in the midst of it. Ubbe and Hvitserk might be the only positive voices of reason at times (apart from Aslaug), while Bjorn would not really concern himself with it. Sigurd on the other hand would throw salt at Ivars mental wounds, saying you were only with him out of pity.

So the viking has no real option but to rely on you reassurance and your loving words. You’d probably have to spend months proving that you are serious about him, because he has been hurt and rediculed so many times before, but in the end it’s all worth it.

Once Ivar chooses to fully commit to you, he’s there to stay.

D - dates (what would dates with them look like? what would they plan?)

Ivar is usually not that much of a planner when it comes to dates.

Normally he is content with finding a secluded place to spend time with you, away from the crowds and far, far away from his relatives.

But if, for any reason, a special occassion should arise, he would definetely ask his brothers for help as much as he hates it.

He would send Hvitserk to distract you with requests and tasks all day, while Ubbe helps him set everything up in a little cabin in the woods. Ivar would ask Aslaug to have some thralls bring plates of food as well.

E - experience (how many relationships have they had before?)

Close to nothing, really.

Ivar did not have any experience with real love and he was very sceptical of it.

The few kisses and cuddles he may have had, have all come from the thralls his family owns.

Apart from that, he has not been interested in anybody, other than finding some attractive on the outside. Too often he had to find out the hard way that the insides of people where much more ugly than the exterior.

So in response to that Ivar mainly focused on his training and on becoming a better viking, until you came along.

F - family (do they want to start a family?)

Ivar would love to start a family.

At first, he is actually astounded that you’d bring it up.

For a long time, he could’ve never imagined someone wanting to have a family with him. To have a child with him (no matter if it’s your own or adopted). So when you suggest it, he is mindblown for a second, before he cups your face, telling you that it is what he longed for all along.

He would be ecstatic upon the idea of having an heir. Or two. Or more. But at least one is fair.

For him, it feels like everything is finally falling into the right place.

G - generosity (do they give their partner a lot of presents? if so, what?)

Exceptionally generous.

And you don’t even have to ask for them.

Ivar brings tons of goods and riches home from every raid, where you can pick whatever you like. He makes sure to safe the best pieces for you and keeps an eye out for suvenirs he knows you might love.

Should you require anything else Ivar has enough resources to get you everything you want from the market. Since Aslaugs rule in Ragnars absence, Kattegat has also transformed into an important trading center, will all kinds of diverse products.

Ivar sees to it, that you have anything you could possible require, even in his absence.

He spoils you, not gonna lie.

H - heaven (how would they react if they lost their partner?)

Ivar would never recover from the loss.

After everything that happened to his family, all the betrayals and the lies and the fights, you were the one thing to keep him going. You had been there for him everytime, no matter how hard it was. No matter how dangerous it got, no matter how exhausted you were.

But now?

There was nothing.

No one.

And no way to bring you back.

One of the things that scares Ivar most is how numb everything feels. There was nobody to be angry at. Nobody to blame, except for the illness that took you away. And against something like that, not even Ivar the Boneless could seek revenge.

He should have known when you confessed you love, that you were just another thing he had to lose. First it was his father, then his mother, then Helga and Floki and now... there was nothing left of him.

Still your face, your smell, you presence would follow him everywhere he goes.

And he’d beg you to haunt him.

I - i love you (who says the three magic words first and why?)

It depends.

The only way Ivar would say it first is if he is frantic. Either in a screaming match, or when you are close to leaving him.

When neither of those are likely though, this viking would most definetely wait until you’ve said it first. For a long time he does not even dare to hope that you will. He is still a cripple after all, no amout of love could ever change that and he fears the day you realize it. Ivar is so used to rejection that he tells himself it wouldn’t hurt if you left. But deep down he knows it would. That’s why he always hesitates in the very last second, drawing back. 

He leaves the first ‘i love you’ to you. But when it comes, you’ve never seen him smile that big. He can’t believe his luck. Can’t believe that you truly choose him over anyone else.

Ivar will rarely outright tell you that he loves you and only chooses particular moments for it.

But that just makes it all the more special.

J - journey (how did they first meet their partner?)

Unfortunately, you met Ivar while his men were preparing for a raid.

You stumbled upon their camp and he questioned you, demanding informations. This way he could gather when the best time for an attack might be. But not only that. You captured his interest in a way he would not have expected.

There was something in the way you spoke and the way you carried yourself that made him hesitate. He supposed that was what it must have felt like for his father with that unlucky priest Floki killed in the end. But then again, in time, he discovered it wasn’t quite the same. There was something more that drew him to you, apart from curiosity.

And he intended to find out what exactly it was.

Who knows after all?

Maybe it was fate.

K - kisses (what are their kisses like?)

Ivars kisses are desperate.

Desperate for warmth, desperate for acceptance, desperate for belonging.

He puts his emotions into every kiss and there is no such thing as ‘just a peck’ with him. Ivar likes to feel needed. He likes showing you how much he loves you, rather than expressing it with words.

He’s also not ashamed to kiss you in front of an audience, frankly he does not care who sees it, because you’re the only one that counts (but he will stop should it make you uncomfortable). He does not fear that it might make him seem weak, that thought is pretty ridiculous to him.

If anything, he’s even more proud to be the one you want.

L - love language (what’s their love language?)

Ivars love language is physical touch closely followed by words of affirmation.

Ivar feels loved the most if he recieves physical touch. He senses that most people around him are too intimidated to get close, or are simply put off by his condition. As a result of that, he rarely gets affectionate touches or attention, which he craves dearly. Even more so since Aslaug is dead and Floki and Helga are both gone. It’s important to Ivar that his partner makes him feel appreciated this way, even if it’s just a hand on his arm at the table, or your fingers laced with his. Every little touch counts.

The second best way to make him happy is through words of affirmation. Words have great meaning to Ivar, so beware of saying anything hurtful to him, for it might stay with him for a lifetime. In time you may notice that especially Ragnars last words “happiness means nothing” are stuck in Ivars head. Words impact him greatly, and you may have to undo some of the damage others have caused in his mind, with a few well-placed strikes. Ivar will appreciate it if you reassure him of your love with the right words at the right time.

M - memory (what’s their favorite memory of the relationship?)

The morning after the first night spend together.

Back then he had no idea how it happened or how you did it.

You were still snoring next to him when he came to realize he didn’t just like you. He loved you. And while you moved around, hugging the fur close to your chest a thousand emotions had swirled in his head. He was confused, surprised and completely thrown aback about what you did to him. About how you made his heart beat faster and his limbs tingle with the need to draw you closer. He watched, until the sun tickled your skin, rousing you from your sleep and when you opened your eyes to look at him with that smile... you knocked the breath out of his lungs.

Whenever he thinks back to that morning now, you catch him with an absent-minded smile on his lips.

N - newborn (how would they react to expecting a child? how would they deal with the pregnancy?)

Ivar would be shocked.

First of all, he would question if the child is truly his, as it seemed impossible before. He wouldn’t have thought that he would ever get the chance to have an heir. So, once you’ve settled his doubts, he would be the proudest father-to-be in all of Kattegat.

But also the most anxious.

He heavily questions his ability to raise a child. Even he knows his father was not a really good example to look up to when it comes to raising children, or to being a husband.

So he seeks the not really helpful advice of his brothers, who all seem to go in completely different directions when it comes to kids. Hvitserk is clearly letting his nephews and nieces walk all over him, while Ubbe is acting like an overprotective hen. Bjorn seems deadset on training them and sending them out in the wild. And Sigurd? Ivar is not quite sure the man is a grown-up himself.

In conclusion: they all started fighting amost themselves while Ivar watched the mess unfold.

Clearly, his mother Aslaug would have been a much better option.

But if she is no longer around, Ivar will instead turn to Floki and Helga where he finally finds some words of wisdom and support.

Without a doubt the woman carrying his child will be protected at all times. This is a literal miracle to him and he would be devastated if anything went wrong with the mother, or the child.

Other than that Ivar finds great joy in the pregnancy. He loves seeing the mother grow with his child and he would be truly proud of his child for carrying on his legacy. Ivar’s love grows during this incredible months, even during all the moods and cravings.

Both, the mother and the baby will be incredibly spoiled.

O - oasis (what’s their favorite place to spent time?)

The pier.

He enjoys the location, especially on warm summer days.

He has many memories stored in his mind, of sitting out on the docks. It’s a place where he can clear his head and it also gives him an overview of everything that is happening around him.

Ivar also likes the calm view of the ocean, even though he’s terrified of the sea. He likes to imagine all the lands that await him on the next raid. The atmosphere helps him to resume his strategies and to gather his thoughts.

It helps him to visualize the terrain the next war will be fought on and the techniques his enemies might use.

You will find him there often, sitting and staring out to the sea until the sun fades away.

P - petnames (what petname would they give their partner?)

“My love.”

The words tasted absolutely ridiculous on his tongue, when he first said them. Almost pathetic. That is also what he threw at your head, when you first said it, but not in anger. It was... something else. Some thing you had to figure out first.

The way he put you off was so reluctant, that it didn’t fit. He liked it. You knew he did. And he knew you knew he did. And he hated it.

This, in turn, made you use the petname whenever you could, with a smirk on your face. Eventually he not only gave in, but started using it himself.

The first time he did you probably spit out your drink in shock tbh.

He’d grumble out of embarassement, until you’d reassure him. When he knows for sure that you actually love it, it’s settled.

It would become a habit.

Q - quiet (what do undisturbed moments look like?)

Peaceful.

In quiet moments Ivar can take a breath and let go of all that troubles him.

He likes taking you down to the beach on those rare days, lying next to you in the sand and relaxing for hours. In those moments all the fights, the wars and the arguments truly fade away. Sometimes they might creep into his mind, which you scold him for when he shares those thoughs absent-mindedly.

Apart from that, it is in those quiet times that you can truly find joy in the company of each other. There don’t need to be many words or actions to keep you happy, just the two of you alone will do.

R - rivals (how do they handle jealousy?)

Not too well.

If there is anyone making advances towards you, Ivar will be the first one to notice. Probably even before you.

He knows very well that you would not appreciate a bloodbath. And further than that, there are political figures that are better kept alive during those stressful times of war. So, no matter how much it bugs him, he would keep still for the time being, trusting you to tell them off (but you may notice the tick of his jaw, or the whitened knuckles when his fingers clench around the armrests of his chair).

If you don’t notice, Ivar will be sure to inform you and ask you to do something about it. He doesn’t voice his concerns about it very clearly, but he is afraid of you leaving him for another.

Though, should a situation get critical, even after you have made clear that Ivar is the one for you, you can be sure that Ivar wont let it slide.

Even if he has to make it look like an accident.

S - song (what song is a reminder of them?)

OCEAN EYES - BILLIE EILISH

I've been watchin' you for some time

Can't stop starin' at those ocean eyes

Burning cities and napalm skies

Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes

Your ocean eyes

No fair

You really know how to make me cry

When you gimme those ocean eyes

I'm scared

I've never fallen from quite this high

Fallin' into your ocean eyes

Those ocean eyes

I've been walkin' through a world gone blind

Can't stop thinkin' of your diamond mind

Careful creature made friends with time

He left her lonely with a diamond mind

And those ocean eyes

No fair

You really know how to make me cry

When you gimme those ocean eyes

I'm scared

I've never fallen from quite this high

Fallin' into your ocean eyes

Those ocean eyes

Da, da-da, da-da

Da-da-da, da, da

Da, da, da, da, da-da-da-da

Mm

Mm

Mm

No fair

You really know how to make me cry

When you gimme those ocean eyes

I'm scared

I've never fallen from quite this high

Fallin' into your ocean eyes

Those ocean eyes

T - token (what kind of object would be the proof of their love? a ring? a necklace? something completely different?)

Ivar can, as a prince and as a king, buy you anything you want.

So he goes a completely different way.

He would try and make you something himself. Something that wouldn’t bother you during the day while tending to your tasks, but also something that would show everyone around you that you are taken.

And something that would remind you of him.

Ivar has noticed you fiddle with the pendant of his necklace often enough.

The viking takes is upon himself to make a twin to the mjolnir hanging from his throat. He would spend ages drawing out the form and details of the hammer, making sure everything looks perfect. He would also use much more expensive material than his own was made of and would insert fitting gemstones if possible.

Ivar works through days and nights to complete his work and smiles like a child when he can finally hand it to you.

It would turn out so beautiful that you would never want to take it off.

U - unique (why did they choose their partner? what first attracted them?)

The thing that first drew him to you was your personality.

Ivar likes looking at pretty features and bodies, yes. But in a way, doesn’t everyone?

Physical attributes don’t mean that much to him. That he may find a body pleasing to look at has nothing to do with feelings. It is more about an aesthitic. About a facade.

What really interests him is your behavior and your mannerisms. How you talk and behave when nobody sees you and how you move when the great hall is filled with people.

Ivar is first attracted to you because of your habits and your character. The unique tells when he catches you lying, or the characteristic twitch of your mouth, when Bjorn shares a story around the dinner table.

V - vulnerable (how vulnerable do they allow themselves to get?)

He is a tough nut to crack.

Ivar is not the type to be vulnerable around others.

He is not always proud of it when he loses his temper, but he absolutely hates it when he has to cry. Not particularily because he sees it as a weakness, but because he despises the whole feeling of it. He hates the helplessness that settles in and the pityful looks everyone carries on their faces when tears are shed.

He does not like to cry in front of you, even when you are close. You will often have to force him to lean on you and let you comfort him. At the beginning he dislikes doing so, but quickly notices that it helps.

He starts to appreciate your help and your knowledge when you assist him to get his mind back on track and give him a perspective he might not have thought of (though there is rarely a way he does not come up with).

X - xfactor (what’s one of their special talents they try to impress with?)

His mind.

While his brothers might be honest in saying that they consider him their equal despite his disability (which he is already sceptical of), Ivar is very aware that that does not count for everyone else around him.

Not even for you.

So he tries to impress you with what he does best. Ivar is intelligent and an incredible strategist on all fields. He will use his smarts and his witt to catch you attention (and maybe even aks you for advice, even though he already has the perfect solution).

Y - yin & yang (how does having their partner around change their behavior?)

It changes quite a bit.

Ivar becomes calmer when you’re around. More patient and less heated. Apart from that he puts great value on your opinions, even of you are not familiar with all of his strategies.

The times of war are stressful even on a bright mind such as his. It makes him agitated when you’re parted and he trends to get nervous when he can’t keep an eye on you.

Since what happened to his mother while he was not around, he fears that the same fate might come for you if he is not on guard at all times. That, in turn gets him easily frustrated when you can’t join him where he is going.

Needless to say, his men are glad when you are present.

Ivar becomes more relaxed, witty and even pleasant at times as soon as you are near.

Z- zen (how calm are they during arguments?)

Not very calm, even though he tries to keep his cool.

He tends to let his frustrations out, wether that be through screaming or trashing something.

This viking does not hold back.

And we all know Ivar is already intimidating enough when he is not in a bad mood.

But usually, all of that doesn’t happen around you. Between the both of you arguments rarely arise. You are pretty much on the same page and definetely act as a team.

Though, of course, it can’t be that easy all the time. When an argument between the two of you arises Ivat tries to reason with you. The man is used to things going his way, so it might be quite a struggle to go against him at first. He tends to get louder, as a way to emphasize his reasoning, but will quickly try to shut it down if you tell him that it upsets you.

He’ll try to explain his situation and get a grip on your view at the same time, until you reach an agreement both of you are happy with, which he does not do with anyone but you.

[gyuluster]

the prince and the jackal | {f}

collab oneshot | fantasy! au | 11.8k words

“Because the prince of the earth can make you fall not only for nature, but the boy who rules over it.”

s u m m a r y : in the Kingdom of Terrae, you, a metalbender, believe in the deforestation to modernise the land. As a member of the Lumberjackals, you thrive on cutting down trees and stealing resources until you get caught by the Crown Prince, Choi Beomgyu, a lover and embodiment of the nature you wish to destroy. However, instead of imprisoning you for your crimes, Beomgyu decides to show you the beauty and wonders of nature, leaving you to doubt your beliefs, your identity, and your very feelings for the certain boy determined to change you for the better.

w a r n i n g s : prince! beomgyu, woodcutter! metalbender! reader, reader hates wildlife and all things nature, beomgyu is sunshine and flowers and everything good, shit ton of wildlife and fantasy stuff, bts kim line are part of the lumberjackals so are evil in this story i am so sorry y’all, beomgyu has a pet squirrel called jisung yes han jisung, kind of enemies to lovers not really but im pretending it is

p l a y l i s t : fairy of shampoo by txt | colours of the wind by judy kuhn | willow by taylor swift

a u t h o r ‘ s  n o t e : yes i am back from the dead to bring this fic hello!! this is a collab with @soobmint​ @juunnies​ @bffsoobin​ @honeyju​ pls do read their parts too they’re so sexc <3 do lemme know what you all think and thank you for reading!!

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“And this prayer I make,               Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her.”  — William Wordsworth, Tintern Abbey, 1798.

“ONE MORE BLOODY TREE, AND I’LL SCREAM THIS FOREST DOWN!”

You ignored the complaints of your comrades, trekking deeper into the forest. 

The sun was nearly drowned out by the towering shade of the surrounding trees, and there remained a constant buzz of the animals, either scurrying away or chirping in the skies. The cut up logs strapped on your back was a huge burden, and slowed your steps as you trudged onto the muddied pathways, staining your boots.

“_____, how much longer until we go to the markets?” one of the men asked, exhaustion clear in his voice. 

“Just a few more logs, Tae,” one of the woodcutters, Seokjin, answered, casting a side-ways glance at you. 

“But we’ve already got so many!” the former whined, pointing to the goods over their shoulders. “We can make decent money today!”

Unsheathing your sword, you cut away at the vines in your path, masking your sight ahead. It must be here somewhere, you thought, eyes darting sharply to every flower and bush. It has to be.

“Haven’t you fools understood already?” a snarl resonated from the group. Your horse trotted past you as Namjoon, sat on top, brought out his machete, brutally slicing the branches of the towering trees. “The wood we’ve got won’t last us all year!”

His eyes blazed with a certain greed as he looked over you all. “We must find the Tree of Life,” he declared, strolling past you, cutting down the path. “One strip of its bark could bring us a fortune.”

You listened to his statements with raised brows, following in his steps. In truth, none of you had ever seen the Tree of Life. No one in the kingdom had for centuries — it had become something of a myth, a legend passed down from every earthbender to child of its origins, and its significance. You didn’t know the great specifics, but the whole group knew that if they were to obtain even a twig from the great tree, it could grant them millions worth of gold. 

And that was something the Lumberjackals desired more than the wellbeing of an omnipotent tree.

Soon, the search progressed, your group cutting down a few Ebonies for its useful properties, but there was no heavenly legend welcoming you in all its finery. The sun was descending on the horizon, and although Spring was present, you were situated in the part of the forest where the gusts of the Ice Kingdom blew consistently in your direction. The cold was about to descend, and you were far from your home in the Metallum villages. 

Taehyung, the youngest of the Kim brothers, held onto a nearby oak, all strength leaving him. “I don’t know about you, but I am not travelling any further.” He glared daggers at Namjoon, who showed no signs of stopping. “I’m setting camp here, and you can do nothing to stop me.”

Seokjin joined his youngest sibling, collapsing on the patch of grass beside the gathering of flowers as he shrugged off his work of the logs. “I vote a little rest, even if Joon does not understand its meaning.”

The said-man let out a scoff at those words. “You both are just bloody lazy!” He turned to you, eyes pinning you where you stood. “You’ll keep searching with me, right?”

You agreed, but when you saw the fatigue in your leader’s gaze you grabbed the reins from his horse, stepping beside him. “You need sleep, Joon,” you said, concern in your eyes. “I’ll do another search. You three stay here.”

Namjoon held your stare for a moment before swiping his leg over the back of the horse, jumping off. He handed you the reins fully. “Come back after dawn. Us three will take over from you.”

You had a right mind to challenge the amount of time he was making you explore, but you kept your mouth shut, heaving onto the animal. Dumping your logs of wood upon the ground, you dipped your head in farewell to the Kim brothers. “I will see you in the morning, boys.”

Taehyung waving excitedly as he set up camp, Seokjin going straight to bed upon his blankets, and Namjoon’s stare cold yet understanding, you cracked the reins as the horse began to gallop away from the oaklands, and deeper into the forest.

The moon barely lit the way as you delved deeper into the trees, the sounds of nature turning sinister as the owls began to hauntingly hoot, and the wildcats began to purr. You kept your sword close, in your hand as the other steadied your horse. 

You let out a hard sigh as you commenced your searching. Sometimes, only when you were alone, you wished that Namjoon would snap out of his delusions. There was no Tree of Life, no invaluable source of fortune which would challenge the earthbenders and start their industrialisation. In truth, you only wished for a life more than just cutting down wood, but your leader’s promises could be much too enticing. 

Perhaps he was right. Maybe with the metalisation of Regna Terrae the metalbenders would be able to progress. It was not like the Kingdom cared for the likes of you, nor the nature which brought you to existence.

Stupid, damned forest. What good had it ever done you?

Suddenly, you heard the harsh snapping of the twigs which wasn’t from your horse. In an instant you halted, pulling the reins as your eyes darted to every corner of the dark forest. 

Silence.

You furrowed your brows.

The forest cannot be trusted. Even its silences were sinister and misleading.

Slowly, you got off your horse, tying the reins to a nearby tree. “Keep still, Aurum,” you whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

Patting the mane, you turned and followed in the direction of where the sound was heard, every step quiet and cautious. There was little light, you having to rely on your ears alone, and the hands which touched trunk from trunk. In moments like these, you wished you possessed a more useful power than mere metal manipulation — firebending would have been nice, but you supposed that luck had never been in your favour.

Seething, you held onto your sword tighter, sending a little rush of power from your fingers as it sharpened the steel. No one tailing you would survive in your hands.

You then heard a little sigh, and whipped your head to the direction. Gritting your teeth, you rushed to the place of the origins, anger rising. Swiping away the branches in your path, your boots were the only sound among the quiet hush of the forest, along with the slicing of your weapon. Whoever was toying with you will not leave your wrath.

Swiping away the plants, you finally found an opening of grass among the trees. Squinting, your anger surged to find a distant figure standing before you, all masked in shadows from the lack of light within your surroundings. It stood statue-still, matching your deathly quietness. 

But the figure did not seem like it offered death. Nor anything so dangerous as you promised.

“Come out!” you shouted, taking a step forward. “I know you were following me!”

No response. 

“Scared, are you?!” Another hesitant step. “As you should be!”

Still, only silence answered, and the soft crunch of the leaves underneath your boots. You took a deep breath, shining your sword from the moonlight. A scoff emitted from you, nerves disappearing. This should be easy. 

With an aggravated roar, swinging your weapon, you thundered towards the figure. 

You rushed into the moonlight pooling onto the grass, eyes intent with damage as you willed iron-like power from your veins, and into your hands, swirling around the fuller of your sword until it reached its tip, ready to burst onto the figure.

It was then the shadows moved. 

A flick of his hand. A soft glow within the darkness. 

And all of nature followed suit.

You were taken aback as the thousands of vines circulating the surrounding trees unwrapped themselves from their trunks, and snapped towards you in thundering speed. You had no time to take in their stems swirling around your feet, cutting off your run towards this certain figure. A gasp escaping, you were pulled back by the impact, and let out a further scream as you began to fall flat on your face. Then, even more shock reverberated through you as your feet were pulled upwards, shooting your body up until you were suspended from a tree branch, your one foot wrapped tightly in the vines.

Your world all upside down, you shook your head vigorously, feeling the strain of your one leg under complete control of the tree. The thrum of powerful magic of nature resonated through your body, ceasing you from moving your free leg and kicking any potential passerbys. 

Craning your head backwards, you saw with horror that your sword was clattered upon the ground, too far away to reach from the air. Straining your hand towards the grass, you willed your magnetic force, trying to lure your weapon into your hand.

The sword would have ended up in your grasp if another surge of the same natural magic did not break its path, sending it back on the earth.

Enraged, you looked out to the dark, sight distorted. “Gods, just come out already!” you screamed, swinging slightly by your sheer force. “Stop hiding in the damned shadows!”

There was a flutter of little animals coming out from the shadows. “Ha!” you spat, reaching for the dark. “Only sending a few creatures to scare me? You’re going to have to work harder than that!”

When there was another round of silence, you laughed harshly to yourself. “That’s what I thought.”

This time, however, you were not greeted by their usual, quiet answer.

More vines slithered down your frame, pushing your hands together. You gritted your teeth as the gnarly weeds tightened around your wrists, stopping yourself from using your hands.

Glaring daggers at the darkness ahead, you spat at the ground. “Show yourself!” you roared.

Your threats were answered.

Responded in an unimaginable way as the figure stepped into the moonlight.

You could not suppress your reaction.

The most enchanting boy you had ever seen revealed himself from the shadows. You could clearly see him from the light, the soft, child-like features amplified by his undoubted beauty — his mahogany locks curled around his face, cascading over his forehead. His gentle eyes promised great amusement, more so when they landed upon you, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. He was adorned in a fine green gown, few assortments strapped on his belt as leather boots, etched in ink, covered his feet. A crown of flowers and leaves settled in his curls, emitting its own, fantastical glow among the darkness.

The smile curved wider at your widened eyes. “Why so speechless now, my lady?” 

By all the gods. Even his voice sounded like the sweetest honey in all the hives. 

“I have come before you, now,” he continued, deeply amused by your bewilderment. “I have stopped hiding in those damned shadows, as you said.

“Where is your anger?”

Well, that seemed to bring your rage all back.

“It’s still here, you bastard!” you hissed, struggling in the rope-like vines as you tried to swipe your hand across his face. He merely took a step back, completely out of your range.

“Even without a weapon you are a force to be reckoned with,” the mysterious boy voiced out, raising his fingers as magic sparked from the tips. Instantly the vines encircled your arms, pinning them to your sides as the weeds wrapped around you completely. You were like a human-sized caterpillar, cocooned in vines except you would not turn into a butterfly and rush away into the forest. 

This nuisance before you would make sure of that.

A satisfied hum escaped him. “There we go,” he said. “Now you won’t be of any danger.”

“Who even are you?” you demanded, glaring daggers at the sight before you. Terrible shame that the sight was something you wouldn’t mind witnessing for the rest of your life. Even if it was upside down. 

A hint of surprise exposed upon his features. “Oh, this is amusing, indeed.”

He took a step towards you, you catching the faint scent of...flowers and trees and fruit and honey. You couldn’t really figure out a perfect essence — if nature had a scent, then this boy embodied it. “I am surprised you know not of me when you wish to destroy what I own.”

You raised a brow, at eye level with him, despite the loopy image. 

Then, the gears in your head turned, and you were struck hard with the realisation.

When you wish to destroy what I own.

“Oh gods,” you slipped out.

The boy smiled.

No, not just the boy.

The Prince of Regna Terrae — the heir to the Earth Kingdom. 

Choi Beomgyu.

Maybe this explained his otherworldly beauty. Crown princes of the earth kingdoms were known to be blessed by nature, so adorned the finest features known to man. Standing before you now, you cursed yourself for not seeing it before.

And cursed yourself again for cursing at him. Multiple times.

Beomgyu saw your eyes moving a mile a second and spluttered out a soft laugh, raising a finger so you focused on him. “I am glad you have figured out my identity. Now we both know what we are.”

His next words did not possess much hilarity. “I, a prince, and you, a Lumberjackal.”

The declaration had you gulping. There’s no escaping this.

He was not wrong in the slightest — you were a part of the Lumberjackals — a group dedicated to industrialising the Earth Kingdom, and giving it a head start from the other kingdoms who did not possess the natural resources that this land contained. You prided on deforestation, the cutting of wood and, even to a certain extent, the consumption of animals. Although you never participated in the last activity out of pure shame, you knew the Kim brothers certainly did, and enjoyed it to great extent. 

“Do you deny it?”

You tried to look away, but his gaze was a little too intense. Even if it was reversed. “I do not.”

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” he got out, and you could hear the pain in his voice. Could you even blame him? You destroyed what he held so dear.

Still. You were a metalbender. The desire for modernisation is in your very blood.

“I do what I must do, your Highness,” you grit out, struggling in your weedy cocoon. “It is the only way we survive. 

“And I will not stop.”

The boy’s eyes widened a fraction, in pure disbelief. He could not comprehend this — how could one be so against the idea of nature? How could anyone be so resolute in the decimation of what they survived on?

Prince Beomgyu cocked his head, pursing his lips. 

How could one hate a deity he considered so beautiful?

He said so himself. 

“How?”

You blinked. 

The boy continued. “How can you hate nature?”

His question took you by surprise — you did not really know the answer yourself. 

It was not like you despised the earth in all its natural form. Sure, it brought you the air you breathed, the food you ate, and the water you drank. But what else had nature given you?

You soured upon seeing the Prince’s face. You did not possess the powers other Terrae citizens were gifted with. Your branch of magic was hard, unforgiving. Simply a practicality, only useful for finding resources and making weapons.

Where were your subservient vines? Where was your natural greatness?

With this in mind, you mustered up the most brutal expression you could offer to the boy before you. 

“Because nature was not kind to the likes of me. So I shall not be kind to it either.”

This time, the Prince’s eyes widened even further, afraid they would pop right out of their sockets. 

Once again, his mind was in a twist — how had his dearest accomplice, his most cherished friend, been unforgiving to his subjects? He would never consider himself sheltered, but this was something quite unheard of in his kingdom.

“I know you do not believe me, but this is the only explanation I can offer.” You paused, accepting your fate. “Untie me already so you can send me to prison.”

You felt something swirl beneath the boy’s brown eyes, irises sparkling with wonderment. His voice was soft, if not lost within his own thoughts.

“I believe you, jackal,” he said. With a final step towards you, he left little distance between the two of you, eyes at level with yours as you hung from the tree. “But I cannot be satisfied with it.”

Another blink, taken aback by his declaration. “Well...well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

Shocking you further, he curled a little smile upon his lips. “Well,” he started, and as the smile began to widen further, he knew just what to do.

No, he was certainly not satisfied with her accepted hatred.

“We can start by changing that.”

It was your turn for your pupils to dilate. Gods above. This boy seems one chop away from a stump.

“What do you mean?” you demanded, but the boy was already turning on his heel, looking to the surroundings. He fell to his knees, feeling the ground beneath him with his hands. “Your Highness, what are you doing?!”

He did not deem to answer your question, only counter it with his own. “Do you have a horse nearby?”

You looked at him, surprised he figured it out by merely touching the grass. “Yes, but…”

It seemed that he did not need to hear any more, as he brought a hand out, fingers stretching. A tendril of green power burst from his palm, snaking through the dark air beyond your peripheral vision. The Prince was focused on his conjury, and you wondered what in Terrae he was trying to do.

Then, you heard a distant neighing, and found Aurum following the green trail of his magic, eyes glowing slightly.  

You tried to escape the tight cage of the vines. “Gods, what are you doing with my horse?!” you exclaimed. “She hates strangers!”

The magic disappeared, along with the glow in her eyes. You could tell she was confused at her surroundings, about to raise her hind legs at the boy who spelled her. “She’ll kill you!” you warned, bracing yourself to witness the death of a prince.

It was then Beomgyu stepped towards the horse, gaze sparkling with kindness. 

His hand touched Aurum’s face.

With no small amount of shock, you watched as the boy whispered to your horse, stroking her muzzle. You had never seen her be so friendly to any human she’s made contact with — by Terrae, she even deigned to show attitude to you, who had fed and groomed her since she was a mere pony. How was she sweetening up to someone she had just seen?

Maybe she’s still under a spell, you thought with malice, but then a more honest thought came to mind, and it only made you angrier. 

Or perhaps animals can be just as enchanted with him as humans can.

“What are you talking to her for?” you interrupted them, letting out an aggravated groan as the cocoon engulfed you tighter. “You’re sharing words with her as if she’d spread them!”

Beomgyu slid his eyes upward to you. “I was just asking Aurum if she’d like to have an apple.”

“No, I’ll give her one myself—” you tried to say, but then stopped short. “Wait. How do you know her name?”

He looked at you as if you had asked the most ridiculous question. “Because she just told me.”

You stopped struggling in the cocoon. “What did you just say? Aurum told you?”

Hands never ceasing his comforting upon the horse, he raised a quizzical brow. “Pardon me, jackal, but do you mean to tell me that you...you cannot talk to animals?”

Maybe you were not wrong to think the heir of the Earth Kingdom absolutely crazy. 

He gestured to the world around you both. “Can you not sense each and every creature nearby? Can you not hear their heartbeats, in sync to their purrs and murmurs?

“Can you not hear the very trees breathe around you?”

You did not know what to say. Perhaps you did not understand his words, what he really meant by a tree breathing. Was that even possible? You thought it unimaginable. 

So you offered him the only thing that remained in your mind.

“I have never felt these things.”

The hand upon Aurum’s nuzzle paused, unable to accept the statement which you offered him. 

His suspicions were confirmed. Your hatred of nature and all the beings which it birthed had rid you of your powers.

He had seen this before — lost souls who had done grave wrongdoings to the earth, and as a consequence, their very instincts were snatched, right down to the basics. There was no shortage of Lumberjackals in the palace dungeons, and upon closer inspection, he saw that these woodcutters felt no connection to their surroundings. It broke his heart seeing the lack of attachment, the lack of desire for exploration and yearning for their powers, but he knew it could not be helped. 

Whoever crosses nature would not be forgiven.

Still, when he inspected the confused, tired gaze of yours, searching him for any suspected lunacy, he just knew that he could not toss you in another old cell. This plan he had in mind could not occur through rotting in one place for the rest of your life. 

“Worry not then, jackal.” He raised his hand, magic blooming from his palm. “I am going to change that.”

Whispering to your horse, he listened for a soft neigh before heaving atop her back, hissing at the reins and other controls tying her down. You watched with slight fear. “W-wait a minute,” you started, trying to squeeze out of the vines, but with no luck. “You’re not going to just leave me here, are you?”

Patting Aurum’s mane, he voiced out calmly, “I wish with my whole heart, but then my plan will not work.” 

You pursed your lips, watching his eyes sparkle with mischief. “If you were not a prince, I would have cursed you.” 

With a flick of his hand, a rush of magic travelled to your cocoon; you felt yourself turning on your front, hovering you upright as the power gravitated you back on the ground, loosening the vines. 

“Not like that has stopped you before,” he merely countered as he observed you shrug off weeds in slight humiliation. “Now get on. We have somewhere to be.”

He waited a moment, sighing when you would not oblige. “Is something the matter?”

You wanted to say yes — gods, you wanted to scream at him to get off Aurum, leave you alone and let you cut trees in peace, but of course, that would be an impossible route to take. You still had no inkling of why the Prince of your kingdom was having mercy on you, and you would be quite the fool to exploit it foolishly.

With gritted teeth, you kept your complaints behind your tongue as you brought your foot on the stirrup, heaving upwards as you brought your leg to the other side, settling upon the horse. “Now,” Beomgyu began, looking over his shoulder. “There is no need to be shy. You may put your hands around me as the horse goes fast—”

“I shall be completely fine, thank you,” you interrupted him, brows furrowed. What was this prince even doing? You wondered whether he was a fraud. With that power you witnessed, though, you highly doubted it.

And his features. There is no way a commoner could possess such enchanting beauty.

Flustered, you soured even further. 

“Are you ready, jackal?”

You grunted out a yes, which was enough for the boy to command Aurum to start.

The horse, against your expectation, began galloping much faster, and with a yelp you were nearly sent flying out of the seat. Your hands, on instinct, wrapped around Beomgyu’s waist, and when you realised what you had done you cursed yourself for obliging him. 

You could almost hear his grin. “I told you!” he exclaimed over the noise of hooves clattering against the rocky mud. 

If only you could slap the heirs of kingdoms. “Just take me where you have in mind!” you barked back. “I need to be back to Metallum at dawn.”

“That will be just enough!” 

The horse swept past more trees, animals scurrying from your path as the moon lit the dim forest path. You held onto the prince for dear life, refusing to acknowledge the hard surface beneath his silk, his ethereal warmth radiating onto you. 

“Hey, jackal?”

A sigh. “Yes?” 

“Your horse’s name.” A pause. “Aurum.”

You looked to the trees whooshing past your vision. “What of it?”

Beomgyu whispered for the animal to slow down, scanning his surroundings for his destination. “’Gold’. A very ingenious name.” 

He glanced at your irritated face, and smiled. “My mare is called Argenti.”

Your mouth parted at the little revelation.

Argenti. Silver.

Before you could say more on the matter, the boy stopped the horse, cooing at her and praising her for helping him. Swinging his leg over, he jumped off the horse gracefully. He fixed his flower crown before turning to face you, falling rather awkwardly on the grass. 

A small laugh escaping him, you daggered him with your gaze as you stepped beside him, a hand on Aurum. Your stare lingered as he took a circle turn of the surroundings, moon almost winking at him as it journeyed in the blanket of night. After a while, Beomgyu pointed to the tree nearby you, stepping past you to palm its trunk. “Here we go.”

Fingers stretching, magic spluttered as it swirled into the thick expanse of the leaves, nearly covering the sky with their excess. The matter squeezed through, and brought out the hidden vines, tumbling down till they reached the roots. Grabbing onto the plants, the prince turned his head towards you, an offer in his eyes. 

You hated how you understood exactly what he meant. “I am not going up with you,” you retorted. 

“It’s my arms or the dungeon.”

Gulping, you swallowed down your irritation for him. Taking a step towards him, you maintained a safe distance as you made sure he was aware of your distaste. “Just get us up already.” Damn the gods for making him so aggravatingly beautiful, you thought shamelessly as you looked at him. “Your Highness.”

Perhaps he knew, for the little smile was back, wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close. “That’s more like it,” he murmured out before willing his magic into motion. 

Your breathing hitched as you were pulled rapidly upward by the vines, breaking through the surface of the leaves. You closed your eyes, feeling the scraping of the branches against your clothes until you felt yourself still, listening only to the deep breaths of the prince beside you. His hand was still snaked at your side.

“Open your eyes, jackal.”

Somehow, on instinct, you obliged. 

And widened them further.

You were in another world entirely — the branches expanded beyond your vision, intertwining with the others from different trees, so intricately interlinked beneath your feet that they created a floor. Upon this branching surface there was a little room, decorated with every unusual object that one could identify. Beside the bed, interwoven by these branches, you saw an abundance of flowers and leaves, an lamp of glowing fireflies resting in the corner, and a thousand other items which needed further explanation.

Judging by the awe on your face, the boy answered you, heading to the small cabinet where everything was placed. “A collection of gadgets,” he began, using his magic to separate every object. “That I’ve bought or been gifted since my princedom.” He took out a few unrecognisable things and strolled to the wardrobe, made from the same intertwining branches, and opened the doors, rummaging through.

“What are you even looking for?” you asked, but were dutifully ignored as he kept searching. You admired the intricate scenery, the plush excess of leaves beneath your shoes, shielding you and the prince nearby.

You heard him let out a satisfied ah! as he closed the doors shut. He walked over to you, showing you the rather odd object — it was an unusually large ice cube, miniscule snowflakes etched onto its every side as it orbited slowly in Beomgyu’s hand.

Your curious gaze upon the gadget had him into explanation. “A present from the Ice Prince,” he said, admiring the cold gift in his palms. “It provides an infinite water supply, so is incredibly useful for long journeys.”

“Taehyun, is he not called?” You shivered at the thought. “I am shocked to think he is capable of such small kindnesses.”

Beomgyu slid his eyes to yours. “Taehyun is not the man that his subjects have painted him to be.” His irises swirled in an indecipherable emotion. “Sometimes, one cannot judge the character of another simply based on rumour alone. Only with having conversation can one truly have an honest opinion.”

A small part of you wondered if he truly meant that for Taehyun, or to you, another villain in the Earth Kingdom’s millennia-old tale. Whatever it may be, you looked away, wondering when you’d be able to leave the prince’s presence. 

“Right,” you heard him say, pocketing the other unknown object in his breast pocket of his gown. “Let us go on ground once more.”

The boy was about to tug on the vines again when he was interrupted by a most unusual sound. 

Well, not unusual, considering you were situated in a tree house, but the noise was so shrill you instantly looked down to its origin.

Before you was a little squirrel, cheeks puffed as its little hands perched on its sides. Its soft tail moved rapidly behind its body, indicating irritation. 

Its small, black eyes were fixated upon the boy beside you. Letting out yet another squeak, you saw Beomgyu sigh out in exasperation, as if he had just remembered an important matter.

“Oh gods, I do apologise!” He exclaimed, falling to his knees as he held his free hand out, the other holding the hovering ice cube still. “I’m afraid I cannot feed you now, but would you be able to wait?”

The squirrel let out another squeak, and this time the prince flinched. You gawked at the scene — so not only can he command the trees, but he could talk to animals?

What can this boy not do?

“Ji, I am sorry!” Fishing out an acorn from his breast pocket, he offered it before him. “I have one, if it helps! I promise to feed you properly after I am done with a certain task.”

Even so, the animal seemed much unimpressed. It then turned its little head to you, and you could have sworn that its eyes judged your very soul. 

It squeaked some more, and this time Beomgyu widened his eyes, cheeks flushing. “By Mother Nature, no!” He bellowed out, panicked eyes fleeting towards you. “No, I just met her today.”

“Are you talking about me?” You asked, raising a brow. The squirrel then made another sound, one you could not decipher but, judging from the boy’s reaction, could definitely take a wild guess. “By gods, is this creature mocking me?”

You were rewarded with further squeaking, but was instantly silenced by Beomgyu. “Ji, no! I cannot have you being sarcastic tonight. Save your grievances for tomorrow morning!”

And as the prince scooped the squirrel in his hand, he walked over to the bed, settling it on the sheets. “Stay here. I will be back.”

There was sure to be complaints, but the boy kept sending looks of apology as he stepped back to the edge of the exit, tugging on the vines. “Deeply sorry for Jisung’s behaviour,” he said, swirling the cube slowly. “He is grumpier tonight as I have not fed him this evening.”

“A pet squirrel, huh?” You interrogated, looking down to the grass below. “And one you can talk to? Is that how you could communicate with Aurum?”

Nodding, the prince held his arm out. “Are we ready?”

You hurrying my shook your head. “Not again!” You crossed your arms. “I’ll slide down myself. Without your help.”

Shrugging, the boy held on tighter to the vine. “Your wish, jackal,” he said, and jumped down. Perking up, you squatted down to see him descend smoothly down the tree, landing perfectly on the grass. 

Grabbing onto the plant, you looked back to the grumpy pet, stuffing the acorn in his mouth. 

He then stuck his tongue out, and you gasped at the audacity. “Rude!” You shouted, but we’re only answered with shrill squeaking. Ignoring the creature, you took the vine by both hands, and followed suit.

Your descent was much less graceful, landing instead on your backside. You were met with the huffed laughter of the prince, and you forced down the urge to beat him with his stupid flower crown. Or perhaps tie these vines around his neck and strangle him.

No, that would only result in him using his silly magic. Awful, attractive bastard.

“What are we doing now, Highness?” You wondered out loud, rubbing your sore backside. “Do tell me there is some use of your rather odd ice cube.”

Beomgyu, after strolling further into the woods, slowed himself for you to catch up. “There is some use, unfortunately for you.” He waved you over, stepping past the wild bushes in his path. “Follow me, jackal!” he called out to you. 

Grudgingly, you did as he asked, hugging yourself from the cold breeze of the midnight, wondering where in Terrae he was trying to take you. The trees towered over you like intimidating strangers — if the prince spoke true, then you wouldtuly be unwelcome. 

You were surrounded by this coercion until the forest opened up to an open grassland, encircled by the nature which looked down at you. Beomgyu turned to you, bringing out a few seeds from his trouser pockets and standing right in the middle of the circle. 

“There you are,” he said as you stepped beside him. He glanced at the moon, measuring the amount of time he had left. 

“What are you going to do?” you asked him, still clueless regarding the whole situation. Why has he not sent you to the dungeons already?

His eyes travelled to your face. With a half-soft scoff, he held out his hand, the seeds now in perfect view. “It is not what I’m going to do,” he began. “It is what you are going to do.”

The confusion grew within you. “What do you mean?” you tried to clarify. “What am I to do with these seeds?”

Beomgyu’s eyes promised answers. “Bring out your hand, jackal.”

You did as you were told, holding out your hand as he put the seeds in your palm, fingers barely brushing against your skin. He then descended, knees upon the grass as he patted to the space beside you. “Come, sit.”

Pursing your lips in thought, you knelt before the grass, seeds in your enclosed fist as your gaze never strayed from the boy. “Your Highness—”

Magic oozing from his fingers interrupted your demand, slipping into the earth. Slowly, but surely, a small hole was separated by the green matter, dirt being shovelled to create a dip in the grassland. 

Once he ceased his conjuring, he jerked his head towards the new opening. “Place the seeds in the hole,” he instructed. “Gently now! Treat them with the utmost care.”

Grumbling in response, you leaned forward as you gingerly put each seed at the corners of the muddy dip, noticing a small spark with each placement of the grain. It was a bizarre feeling, but assumed it normal in the ways of gardening as you inserted the dirt over them, covering them fully.

You peered at the prince then, who brought out the large ice cube. Turning it rapidly, treacle of water dripped down to the ground, moistening the earth and feeding the seeds of its necessities. Putting the gadget back in his storage belt, he then returned his hand upon the damp mound, closing his eyes in a fixated peace. More magic swirled from his hands, but this time it encircled not only the place where you had placed the seeds, but you, all of you, engulfing you in its otherworldly warmth. 

“Your Highness?” You whispered out, but he was murmuring, murmuring words you could not comprehend, words which felt like you were not meant to hear. His curls were being lifted slightly with the tendrils of his power, but he stayed rooted to his spot, carrying on with what you feared was a grotesque ritual. 

You, too, became still when you felt fingers curl around your hand. 

On instinct you looked at him, eyes widening — you should have expected his hand to radiate some form of heat, considering this boy had such an unusual glow about him, but this…

Despite the soft chaos around the two of you, the touch was oddly comforting. 

His hand, dragging you out of your thoughts, led yours to the place you sowed the little grains of life, and spread apart your fingers till they covered nearly the entire, dug up earth. More matter escaped from his fingers, shooting further warmth upon the back of your hand, and travelling up to your heart. 

“Close your eyes, jackal,” you heard him chant from his cocoon of magic. “I need you to see from within.”

“See what?!” You beseeched, but his fingers held onto you a little tighter, and, as if he commanded your very body, had your eyelids descend shut, cornering you into the chambers of your mind.

See from within.

What could you see?

Darkness. Eternal darkness, and rusted iron, spilled mercury, and all the grim faces of the people who wanted to decimate the very place you knelt in.

I cannot see! You screamed in your mind, because in the whirlwind of his power you felt alone, trapped in your own mind, trying to join in on a ritual which would cursed the likes of you.

But in reality, you were not alone.

No, not when you felt something foreign in your body.

You swore you stopped breathing. 

Your fingers felt squeezed by another, but was ignored because you could see a whole other heartbeat which was not your own.

A familiar voice entered your mind.

“Do you see it?”

The prince’s voice; the soft, almost desperate inquiry, which you could not help but answer. 

“Yes...yes, by Terrae, I do see it.”

And perhaps he said some more, but you were not listening to his words. His speech seemed a little insignificant to the little heartbeat — it was as faint as the scent of departure, delicate as a snowflake, and as real as yourself, the prince, and the neverending forest.

When you tried to lift your hand, Beomgyu’s fingers halted you still. You could not believe that you did not mind it. “Whose...whose is it, your Highness?”

You were positive that he did not hear you with the lack of volume you let slide from your tongue. However, he answered your question, almost feeling the joy radiating from his response.

“The seeds.” 

Shocked, you opened your eyes, and found the Prince of Earth staring at you with an elevated joy. He gestured to observe your creation, and when your eyes fell upon the sliver of a stem which broke through the earth, between the spaces of your fingers, you wondered whether this was all a dream.

You could not help the curse which escaped you. The boy beside you spluttered into laughter, and you turned to see his face radiating with elation. The heartbeat, the one which you thought was under your control, proved you wrong as it skipped its beat along to his laughs.

“Wh-what are you laughing at?” You demanded, but you were unable to execute it with the anger you wish you held for him. He offered you a honeypot of smiles.

“You’ve brought life to the forest, sweet jackal.”

The little plant shivered in response, along with your own hairs at the back of your neck, which stood at his announcement. Its faint heartbeat grew louder, as well as your own in your ears.

“Do you feel it now?” he whispered, leaning ever so close as he looked to the forest around you. “Do you feel the trees breathing in your presence?” 

Unfortunately, although you could sense your plant’s essence, the heartbeats of every tree in the forest were still unheard. You shook your head no, but that did not wipe the grin off his face.

“We have time,” he reassured you. “Just know that Mother Nature has hope for you still.”

He took your hand, putting another upon the back as he brought you a different kind of warmth. “I have hope for you.”

You parted your mouth, unaccustomed to the contact, the kindness...to all that he represented. 

His eyes locked with yours, and although he had spared you the wrath of his palace dungeons, you feared whether you could escape the imprisonment of his gaze. 

There was no doubt in your mind as you let yourself be arrested into his stare — the Prince of the Earth was not going to haunt just a single night.

FRATERNISING WITH THE HEIR OF REGNA TERRAE WOULD BE THE DEATH OF YOU.

Of course, that was not the last time you saw him — you had become something of a personal project to him, a sin which must be reversed. Almost every night after the fateful encounter, you snuck out from the fences of the Metallum villages, barely evading the suspicious eyes of the Kim brothers, and met with him under his treehouse.

You did not know why you endeavoured so ardently in seeing him. It was not like he had become any less irritable with his amused grins and unmatched power, but there was something about him which you could not fend off. 

In a way, he made you believe you were worth more than simple woodcutting, selling oaks in the market, the empty promises of revenge against the Natural Kingdom. 

Somehow, he made you realise that, maybe, you truly were deserving of a more memorable path.

These very thoughts accompanied you as the sun began to set, pulling your hood over your head as you swept past the familiar trees, reining in the urge to greet every woodland creature which scurried past you. The past few weeks, after many misunderstood arguments with the Prince’s pet squirrel, you learned the slight quirks which the animal possessed, his every movement and what it would signify. You had Beomgyu to thank once again, but each time you wished to do so, he would say the same, hair-rising reassurance.

“Fret not, sweet jackal. It is a pleasure to show you the wonders of nature.”

Sweet jackal. The endearment made you so flustered, and that aggravated you to the greatest extent. You had already shared your name with the boy, but he insisted on calling you this name, as if the two of you had already established an intimacy from decades before. 

The very thought had your actual heartbeat racing.

You made sure to completely dismiss this foolery as you found the special opening of the grassland in sight, the glowing figure waving you over. A small smile involuntarily curled at your lips, hurrying closer till you fully saw Prince Beomgyu’s face clearly in the setting sun.

“You have arrived much earlier this evening,” he said in a way of greeting, fixing his flower crown as his squirrel played with the petals. “I would not say I’m displeased.”

On your part, you certainly were not either — he bore more finery than usual, his normal green gown threaded with gold swirls at the hems, small vines tied around his ears as natural jewellery. His hair was sprinkled with petals, a trait Jisung adored as he settled in the nest of his locks. His hands, too, were intertwined with dark vines, swirls wrapped around his fingers like extended rings. 

By the gods, he truly was an exquisite being. 

He noticed your silence, raising a groomed brow. “Is something the matter?” he asked, but when he saw your eyes dart to anywhere but his own, he immediately understood. You just managed to catch a satisfied quirk of his lips before he turned his attention to your plant. 

Following his trail, you brightened up to see your creation in full bloom — bright red poppies, stark against the pool of grass, stood as they swayed to the evening breeze. You knelt down to observe them closer, and felt a peculiar sense of pride at sensing their clear heartbeat harmonising with yours.

“They’re my favourite flower,” the boy said behind you. “I have always adored how they stand out amongst all the others.”

Watching the poppies almost dance in the cool air, you stood upwards once again. “Then why do you not wear them?” you asked out of curiosity.

“Because my parents do not like me wearing them.” He gestured to the flower crown, at risk of being torn up by Jisung. “They say the colour is too harsh.”

He clicked his tongue in irritation. “At least they could have spared me on my birthday.”

You were about to comment on his parents when those words escaped his mouth. Your own mouth parted in surprise. “Your birthday is today?”

The prince mocked being stabbed in the chest, nearly sending the squirrel to the trees. Taking Jisung from his hair, he propped him on his shoulder. “You have truly wounded me, ____!” he whined. “All this time together, and you had no inkling?”

Although he was only jesting, it only embarrassed you further. “I truly am sorry, your Highness!” you apologised, clasping your hands together. “If I had known, I would have made you a present.”

“Oh?” He took a step towards you. His eyes danced in mirth. “And what would you have made me?”

That seemed to rob you of your speech. “Well, um…” you trailed off, searching your now useless mind of any decent idea for a gift, but he waved off your fluster, chuckling.

“It is no problem, dear jackal,” he said, looking at the red flowers once more. “Seeing your poppies in full growth is a gift to me anyway.”

You wished he had not said that; glancing at them now, you could only hear his fascination within the petals. 

There he was again — staining your every entity of his remnants. How much more till he stains your very soul?

Jisung’s irritated squeak brought you back to the forest. You tried not to murder the damned creature as you muttered out, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Beomgyu groaned out. “I shan’t have you calling me that hideous title all the time.” He put a hand to his chest. “Have we not reached first name basis?”

Despite your surprise, you offered him a scoff. “Jackal is not my first name,” you jeered. “And please. You’re the prince of our land. Anyone who catches me being informal with you will surely have my head.”

“I would never let them,” he merely said. “Not before I show you one last part of the forest.”

You quirked a quizzical brow. “I think you’ve shown me half your kingdom by now.”

“But this is...quite different.” 

The boy stepped closer to you, reaching out his hand. You found yourself warming up as he enveloped it with yours, a gesture so small yet so triggering to your nerves. 

“Follow me, ____.”

With the tug of his fingers, you were led out of the grasslands and back into the jungles of Regna Terrae, catching familiar sights of ancient mahoganies and birches, different variations of trees all grouped together.

As the moon began to ascend, your anxiety increased. His hand worked wonders for your skin, but at the back of your mind, you could not shake off the image of the Kim brothers wondering where you had gone so long.

Especially Namjoon. Seokjin and Taehyung may have been much simpler in the brain, but the leader of the trio bore his suspicions of your whereabouts. He always knew you were never enthusiastic of your occupation as a Lumberjackal, so your sudden interest to roam the woodlands for hours into the night certainly had his ears perking. Of course, you always made sure to know that you were going without being followed, but in the end, the three brothers were quite unpredictable. 

You just hoped that whatever the prince had to show you, it would be seen quick enough to leave.

The density of the forest began to increase, and you soon began to doubt whether you had been to this part of the Kingdom before. It was then Beomgyu’s hands flowed with magic, and completely changed the scenery. The ancient trees, trunks as wide and thick as horses began to move apart to make way for him and you, the squirrel holding onto his shoulder tightly as it too squeaked in surprise. Your own eyes widened as each element of nature bent to his will, creating an easier path for his boots to step onto.

It was clearly a sight for admiration. These few weeks you had begun to realise the power of the earth, and how rich and true its roots lay. You felt the faint hum of their essences as you rushed past them, hand still clasped with his, and you dipped your head in thanks to the trees, hoping that one day you would hear them sing welcomes to you.

Slowing down, the group was barred by the curtain of thick vines, hiding you from the world behind. “I have never seen this before,” you wondered out loud, but when Beomgyu let go of your hand, and stepped forward, hands stretched out, your curiosity reigned further.

Jisung quickly scurried from his shoulder, ending up on the muddied path as he watched with black eyes of the phenomenon about to occur. You made to make fun of the squirrel when the prince let out an aggravated moan, hurling your head to his direction.

His heavenly voice chanted in a millennia old language, huge power emitting from his finger tips and swirling to the tumbling vines of the entrance. You could see the sweat beading down his forehead at the sheer effort it took, but he stayed rooted, sending surges of green matter to the cold nature.

Slowly, the curtain began to withdraw. Blinding light cut through, and when the boy let out a roar, pushing the whole family of vines apart you hid your head from the white bursting through. 

There was a deathly silence for a singular moment. 

You heard his ragged breathing, lasting for ten seconds before it turned into relieved, panted chuckling. 

Bringing your hand away from your face, you looked to see beyond the curtain. 

Your very breath was snatched from your lungs. 

Before you was the most enchanting deity of nature you had ever seen in your existence — it was a glowing white tree, trunk as wide as the two of you twice over, etched with milky-coloured wrinkles that contained sparkles of ancient magic. The leaves, much like finely cut diamonds, protruded from every branch which stretched towards every corner the eye could see. The diamonds were infinite, shining from the gentle light of the moon.

Even though you had never seen it before, you knew exactly what it was. 

“The Tree of Life.”

Your gaze dared to break away to see the prince for a second, whose own breathing seemed to have halted. Sensing your stare, he looked back at you, his face half glowing from the deity’s light.

“I...I thought it did not—” you tried to say, but of course you could not when it was right there before you, as if it had been waiting to be found all its life.

“Exist?” He took a step forward. “Every myth is borne from truth after all.”

Indeed it was — you had learned of the Tree of Life when you were a mere girl, listening to fairy tales before being told to sleep. This Tree could not be seen by the common man, and legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk. Evidently, no one could prove this theory, but its mystery had what inspired so many people, metal and earthbenders alike, to find it, for opposing reasons.

You knew why Namjoon wanted to find it — for the amount of gold a singular leaf could bring him. Now, having accused him of believing in fantasies, you almost felt ashamed for having ridiculed his searches. 

“Come.”

You perked up at the Prince’s voice. 

“You must get a closer look.”

Picking up the pace of your feet, you fell into step beside him as the two of you started towards the legend come to life. The closer you approached the more enchanting it looked — the leaves glistened further, as if greeting you with their shine. 

Jisung scurried between you both, his little head never straying from the Tree. It let out an awed squeak, and Beomgyu hummed in agreement. 

“Have you ever seen anything like it?” 

You shook your head, transfixed. “Never,” you responded, feeling the very earth shift beneath your feet.

If nothing else convinced you of the power of nature, then the existence of this deity certainly did.

You stepped past the boy, the grass hushed beneath your feet as you stretched out your hand. When your fingers touched the milky bark your breath shuddered out of you. It was simply unreal. The touch was surprisingly soft, so unlike the normal trees, and with each crack of the bark there was ancient writing inscripted within. With further shock you felt a very distant heartbeat as the fingers ran along the words, faint yet powerful.

By the gods. 

“Where have you been hiding all this time?” you whispered to the Tree, tracing the aged trunk. “Your Highness, is everything about the legend true?”

There was no response — you figured he was still star-struck, and you continued to admire the most beautiful force you had ever seen.

It was not until you heard Jisung’s shrill squeak that you turned around.

You felt your soul leave your body.

Because there he was, the one man you dreaded to see. The one man who held Beomgyu’s unconscious body in his hands as he dropped him upon the grass. You noticed the little dart on the side of his neck, and all the blood in your body was drained. 

Kim Namjoon.

His answering smirk was more a flash of teeth. “Do you believe me now, ____?” 

You backed up against the Tree, eyes darting to the prince. “What did you do to him?” you asked instead, voice void of any emotion.

“That does not matter,” he dismissed. “But of course, it would matter to you now that you’ve attached yourself to him.”

He took a step forward, his ebony machete glinting in the light of the phenomenon behind you. “Stand aside, girl. It is time to make our fortunes.”

On instinct, you stretched a hand out. “I cannot.”

The man was taken aback by your hesitance. “Whatever the gods do you mean?”

Gulping, you tried to steel your will, inhaling slowly. “I cannot let you do it, Namjoon.” Your eyes glanced at the still prince before glaring at the perpetrator. “You won’t get a single branch of the Tree.”

A harsh laugh escaped him, taking a step forward. “Oh, and you’re going to stop me?”

You brought out your own sword — the one which you promised to use on Beomgyu — and raised it toward him. “Do not come any further,” you warned. 

It seemed the man was not not going to compromise.

Not when he swung his machete, well on his way to hack you to pieces. 

You quickly brought your weapon upon you to deflect his aim, sending him forward, and away from the Tree.

He can try and hurt the Tree of Life.

Easily gaining step, Namjoon mustered his power, ebony sharpening from his fingers as he clashed against you, lightening-fast strikes of his machete having you strained. You never doubted the bastard’s swordsmanship — he was skilled enough to be a general in the King’s royal army.

A shame he chose his fighting for a darker purpose. 

You tried to slice the free space of his abdomen, but the man was sharp, quickly dodging as he swerved to the side, another clash of weapons ringing around the forest. 

“You cannot beat me, ____!” He roared, one hit after the other, sending you further back. 

Taking every hit, you stumbled, gaining your step yet staggering once again with his sword. After all, you could not outsmart the master; he was the man who taught you to fight.

Even so, you refused to give up. “I can die trying!” You seethed as he brought his strength down. His weapon, screeching against your own, slowly descended, closer and closer to your neck. 

A harsh groan escaping, you mustered all your strength into sending his machete aside, barely a spare second in your name before you whirled to your left, missing the power blow.

“All this for a bloody tree!” He screeched, thundering towards you. “We would have been rich, you fool!”

Another mighty hit, and you were sent back, averting his strikes with your sword. Because you were so exhausted, your magic would not burst from your hands, adding more power to your weapon. It was your melee strength, nearly all gone, and your nimble feet.

“What is all this for?!” He demanded, slicing at your cloak, cutting through the fabric of your trousers. The clash of weapons continued, faster and faster. “What is worth more than all the riches of the Kingdom?!”

Amidst the brawl, your eyes slipped to the figure before you. Distant, yet instantly recognisable with his eyes closed, and mouth parted, flower crown scattered around his head. Jisung, too, laid injured beside him, watching your fight with fear in his little eyes. 

What is all this for?

You only had one person in mind.

But that was not enough.

No, not when that sliver of a second gave Namjoon enough time to strike you, sending his machete straight into your stomach. 

A shuddered gasp escaped you as the machete entered through — a burst of pain shot through your entire body, echoing the fatality of your situation. Tears stung your eyes as you dropped your sword, looking at your opponent in the eyes.

The Leader of the Lumberjackals showed no mercy as he yanked out his weapon. 

A moan rushed past your lips as you fell to your knees, gripping your blood-gushing stomach. Namjoon gazed down at you with no remorse at all. “Perhaps he was not enough,” he said, cold as metal.

He stepped past you, focusing on the glistening Tree of Life, its white treasures still exalted in the moonlight. Your body, completely spent, could not hold you upright, falling straight into the grass. Straining, you cried out as you stretched your hand out in vain efforts to stop him, but it was simply no use.

You had been defeated.

And now, after witnessing the most perfect element of nature you had ever seen, you were to watch it be decimated.

This is how it ended. You, fumbling for your last breath, your prince nearby and probably dead.

Namjoon raked his eyes over the Tree, grinning wildly. “Oh, you are going to make me the richest man in the Kingdom,” he declared, raising his machete till it hovered just before the bottom of the trunk.

He elevated his voice so you could hear. “Enjoy watching me destroy what you sacrificed yourself for!”

Closing your eyes, you were about to let oblivion take over. 

You awaited the sound of his weapon against the bark.

What you heard was something completely different. 

An explosion filled your ears as white light, even more blinding than the one before, had you squeezing your eyes further shut. You made out the screams of your once leader as it was drowned out by the eruption, and you tried to see what had so suddenly occurred, only to be greeted with more brazen lights. 

What...what was going on?

When the deafening noise quietened, you picked up on the soft crunch of grass, edging closer and closer to you. A compelling force was felt against your dying soul, and you wondered if the Reaper had finally come to take you.

When you felt air-light hands on your abdomen, you did not expect death to be so warm.

Slowly, dragging open your eyes, you prepared yourself to be taken to the afterlife. 

What you saw instead was something else entirely.

Something which made even the Tree of Life as a mediocre enchantment.

Looking over you was not human — not with the glowing, shimmering skin, sparkles and shine radiating off its golden, liquid body. Her eyes were white with the same light you had seen twice this evening, fluid locks of hair flowing all around her. Her lips offered a radiant smile, already bringing some life back into you, and her whole body, although similar to yours, was free of attire, exuding the light of a star. 

Perhaps you truly were dead. 

The being, however, proved you wrong with her words.

“Brave human,” she began, and her velvet voice had you clutching your stomach. “I saw what you did to defend me.”

You tried to open your mouth to tell her that you defended the Tree, but then your eyes dilated at the revelation. 

The legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk.

But this...this god-like creature was not just a mere girl.

“You sacrificed yourself for my Tree,” she stated, voice echoing across the woodlands. “For my forest, my every creation, despite being an enemy of mine in the past.

“You deserve a token of my gratitude.”

Her voice nearly put you to sleep with the way it lulled in the midnight air. You wondered in your tired mind what she could offer you now that you were breathing your last breath.

Then, you felt her hands upon your stomach.

A loud groan escaped your lips as the torn flesh began to stitch on its own accord, courtesy of the magic which poured from the sublime being. Your whole body worked to heal you, reversing the damage done by your once leader, whose whereabouts you had no inkling of. 

The pain, which once tore at every nerve within you, began to fade away, and you opened your eyes further after gaining the strength, fully taking in the earthly spirit which had restored you. 

You parted your mouth, voice parched as you rasped out, “I...Beomgyu…”

A heavenly smile curled at her lips. “The prince is fine, soldier. It would take more than a dart to eliminate the heir of the Earth.”

A relieved breath left your lips. You then looked to the being, putting your hands above hers. “I am not who I was,” you whispered.

Mother Nature smiled down at you, and you knew then and there that perhaps the world is not so cruel after all.

“I know, brave human.”

The luminous creature ascended to her feet, letting go of your hands. She dipped her head in acknowledgment, and turned on her heel. Struggling to your side, you watched as the otherworldly figure stepped up to the Tree of Life, looking at you one last time.

Raising a hand to her chin, she blew some magic towards your way, bathing you in sparkles. With a final beam, she slipped into the tree, enlivening the whole structure till it stood straight once again.

You truly could not believe what you saw.

Feeling the glimmer dancing on your skin, however, you knew this was not a figment of your imagination.

Mother Nature saved you from death.

Truly, utterly, ethereal. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard soft coughing nearby, and you heaved upward at the sound, your strength all present.

Beomgyu.

Upon your feet, you rushed to where he lay, stumbling from the hurrying as you fell to your knees, hands clinging onto his face. Jisung, his injuries healed from the celestial visit, scurried upon his owner’s chest, waiting for him to awaken.

“Beomgyu?” You murmured out, fingers stroking the soft planes of his cheeks. “Beomgyu, damn you, open your eyes!”

Tilting his face till it faced you, you watched as the prince’s eyes fluttered open, tired and wide and absolutely beautiful.

A trembling breath gasped out of you. “What…” he grated out, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “What just...happened?”

You willed the tears in as you caressed his face. “The legend was true.”

His confused gaze had you continuing. “Beomgyu, I saw the celestial creature when I was dying, and she saved me. It was true, Beomgyu, she healed me with her hands and—”

Your rambling ceased when the boy brought his fingers to your face. Warmth flooded your cheeks, and not because of how hot his hands were.

His smile could have easily beaten Mother Nature’s. 

“You called me Beomgyu.”

He did not let you respond as he brought your face down to his, tilting it slightly as he pressed his lips against yours, enveloping you in a sweet kiss. 

His mouth was warm, just like him, soft and plush, rendering you helpless over him. Your shock was quite prevalent, but you let the affection take over as you kissed him back, hands carding in his curls. He moved against your lips as his fingers stroked down to your jaw, savouring every feathered touch.

When he broke away, his breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed. He saw your own dishevelled gaze and chuckled to himself. 

“I think this might be the best birthday present I have ever received.”

The Prince of Regna Terrae laughed some more when you refused to meet his eyes.

You were about to counter him when you heard another, completely new voice. 

“You both could have done that without me being here.”

Your stare dove to his chest, to the direction of the sound.

Jisung the squirrel glared at you with the entire irritation of the Kingdom. “Oh what? So now you can hear me?!”

A yelp resounded from you. “How are you talking?!” You screeched. “You’re a bloody animal!”

“Oh, thank you so very much for stating the blatantly obvious!” He drawled, and you could not comprehend the sarcasm that just came from a bloody woodland creature.

You peered at Beomgyu, who was just as surprised as you were, despite his entertained features. “____,” he started, sitting up straighter. “Does this mean—”

Getting to your feet, you looked around the forest, the Tree of Life standing proudly. 

It was then you sensed the heartbeat.

Not just your own, or the poppies — but of the entirety of the Kingdom.

Faraway, yet still present, it thumped against your chest like an echo of your own heart, a harmonisation of all the trees, bushes, flowers and animals. It was almost enchanting how it slowly thudded within you, and with such welcome. 

Like greeting a friend you had not seen for a long time. 

When you caught the Prince’s gaze, his entire face lit up. 

Before you could say anymore, you were swept into the boy’s arms, engulfing you with a hug of eternal warmth. His voice rang along your soul as he declared to the whole word.

“Nature has accepted you, ____!”

You heard the clicked tongue of Jisung beneath you, and Beomgyu brought you at arm’s length before sticking out his tongue at his pet. 

He looked to you once more, and saw the very emotions you dared not let yourself believe in.

“I knew you were capable of change, sweet jackal.”

The tears, this time, refused to be held back any longer. 

The boy melted as he swept away each tumbling drop with his fingers, clutching your face. 

As you leaned in this time, kissing him breathlessly, you tasted the smile which flourished upon his lips, drinking in your every essence. 

You wondered, thinking away as your heart beat faster, whether this was still a dream, a vision which would end the moment you woke up, back in the cold village you once called your home. 

When you felt the presence of the celestial being again, looking down from the branches of the Tree of Life, you knew that this was no delusion.

Pulling away, you turned Beomgyu to the glistening, living structure, both of you catching sight of her.

Mother Nature smiled at her heirs.

The both of you knew it in your hearts, simultaneously beating. 

The heirs of Regna Terrae would not let her down. 

[angelguk]

Omg pleaseee write the jock jk playboy bunny costume idea u had 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼😩😩💗💗

lemme do a quick little thing 4 u :)

featuring: oc and jk being dumb lovers, chayoung  (the female lead from vincenzo) as seed of doubt, anniversaries and a playboy bunny costume. somewhat mature towards the end but only because jk see's sexy gf and cannot help himself.

This is a stupid idea, so incredibly stupid that you're considering jumping out of the bathroom window right now. A four-storey jump may result in various injuries (or potentially death) but it would be a far more welcomed out come than leaving Jeongguk's bathroom in this stupid costume.

You don't know why you bothered to listen to Chayoung's drunken blabbering. The moment you'd mentioned your upcoming one-year anniversary she's launched into a spiel about how young love never lasts, or how the roots for future foreboding break-ups were planted during the first anniversary. Her words sowed a dangerous seed in your head, one that was nurtured by Jeongguk's sudden distance. You could tell he was stressed, weighed down by the daunting options before him. Coach wanted to push him to try for the national leagues, his parents wanted him to take a step back and focus on his degree, and Jeongguk, after one quiet evening at yours, had confessed he didn't know what he wanted at all. It hurt to see him like this, usually such a sure and confident soul suddenly staggering and lost. But what could you do apart from hold his hand as he walked forward and help him up when he fell? There was nothing else you could offer, you knew his parents and their concerns were sensible but those same concerns made Jeongguk wonder if they ever believed in him in the first place.

So maybe that's why you're doing this, in hopes of rekindling a spark you feel dying and taking Jeongguk's mind away from everything that burdened him – just for one night.

It's oddly quiet in his room. You'd scuttled right into the bathroom the moment you'd picked him up from practise, complaining that you needed to shower before you commenced your usual shared evenings. Jeongguk had just nodded, quiet and mulling, his eyes absent. It had made something twist in your gut. The whole entire day, from the moment you woke up to right now Jeongguk had not mentioned one thing about your anniversary – not even a text or a bouquet no matter how subtly you hinted. It hurt, but it was proof Chayoung was right. And perhaps the only think that could fix this ship before it sunk was her stupid, stupid idea.

You can only stare at yourself in brief swift glances, grimacing every time you catch the reflection of those white ears standing at attention on top of your head. The fluffy tail attached to the back of the costume was making your butt itch too. Even with those criticisms you knew deep down that you looked good... Surprisingly so. The body of the costume was black satin, shimmering under the luminescence of the bathroom lights. It fit perfect over each curve and roll, hugging your waist just right. Coupled with a pair of fishnets and the fact that your boobs looked exceptionally great today (perks of ovulating) you were a sight to behold.

So even if Chayoung is irritating as hell you had to give some props to her.

"Y/N?" The knock that follows it startles you, sending you lurching forward hard enough that your hip bangs against the counter-top.

"Y-yes?"

"Are you okay?" He sounds tired through the wood, weathered away despite his concerns.

"Hmm? Yes, I'm good–I'm good. Just give me a sec."

A pause, you hope you locked the door because normally Jeongguk would have barged in not bothering to knock.

"Okay. Hurry up though I'm hungry and I ordered food. It's here and if you don't come out I'll eat it all."

"Already? It's here?" God, how are you going to disrupt Jeongguk's chicken nights with a playboy bunny costume?

He makes a noncommittal noise. "Yep. So hurry, I'll really eat all of this if you don't come out soon."

The handle burns your palm when you finally grip it, tummy swimming like you've chugged a series of vodka shots. Jeongguk should like this, right? He calls you bunny all the time, even Chayoung had noticed it (hence the horrifying costume you were currently donning). So wouldn’t he like it? And it was a cute little anniversary surprise, at least you were doing something unlike Jeongguk.

You take in one deep last breath, heart pounding in your head, before you twist and handle and swing the door open, a forced sneaky smile slipping onto your lips.

It falls right off the moment your eyes land on Jeongguk's bedroom.

Either he's the fucking Flash or you've been camped in the bathroom for too long because somehow he's managed to turn his messy room into a perfect romantic dinner spot. He's got the lights turned on to a low rouge, lit candles scattered around the place (which is a fire hazard but the warmth blossoming in your heart is ignoring that), a couple cushions on the floor flanking a heart shaped picnic basket where you dinner presumably resides. And then you glance down, something bright bursting in your chest when you see the red petals lining your path from the bathroom right to the picnic set up.

His back is turned to you, his phone in hand which he abruptly presses on. A melody fills the room a moment later, the song low and familiar. You know that song, that's your song.

Jeon Jeongguk will be the death of you.

"Now if–fucking hell." Jeongguk turns before you can stop him, the grin on his lips evaporating when his gaze lands on you

Oh. Oh. You wilt in a second, floundering against the bathroom door frame in a attempt to hide you bare (and bunny costume covered) body.

The silence that follows is unbearable, sinking deep into your gut as guilt rises to the surface. Jeongguk planned all of this and all you did was wear a stupid sexy costume.

"I–" You start, but his brain must of started working at the same time as yours because he catches that sentence with his own statement.

"You–" It's coated with disbelief, and your tongue gets caught in your throat when he exhales heavily, head falling into his hand. You watch with a sore heart as his fingers comb through the loose chestnut curls, tugging and yanking at his scalp as if his brain was falling to pieces.

"Jeongguk," you finally murmur, meekly padding forward, the shame you feel eating you inside out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin this. I'll change just give me a second."

His head snaps up when you say that, gaze sharp, almost terrifying as he surveys. "Why should you change?"

"W-what?"

"I said," he rises then, slowly moving forward as if not to startle you, his eyes never straying from your body. "Why should you change?"

"Because I look dumb," you return. "And I ruined your great anniversary surprise with my stupid one."

You only notice it then, how his jaw ticks, his head tilting to the side slow. Like he's holding himself back.

"You think you look dumb?" The question itself is innocent but the tone Jeongguk delivers it in is not. You can feel the words in your throat clumping together the longer he looks at you like that, his doe eyes different – dark and spilling with something that has you quivering, your eyes shifting away.

"Answer my question." A firm but gentle hand on your chin, guiding your gaze back to his.

"Yes." It's silent in his room, the low hum of the song bleeding into the thumping of your heart against your ribs.

"Why would my baby look dumb wearing a bunny costume? Huh? It's fitting actually, since you are my bunny."

"Yeah," you try and lighten it was a small laugh, noting the way Jeongguk is staring at your lips. "But this was dumb anniversary surprise. Yours is much better."

You see it click in his head then, like he wasn't hearing a single word you were saying before.

"You did this for me?" Jeongguk questions, eyes dipping to your chest.

"Obviously, who else would I do this for."

"No–I meant, this, this is for me? This was meant to be a surprise for me?"

"Yes," you repeat. "I'd do anything for you. Now let me take this silly thing off so we can have dinner first." You twist away then, but Jeongguk snatches you right back, your frame colliding with his solid chest, firm massive arms holding you in place. The squeak that erupts from your lips lands into tight air, a sudden tension thrumming in your veins. Jeongguk's hard against your ass, erection grazing the downy tail attached to the base of the costume. There's a palm placed steady around your neck, trapping you against his while his other hand idly explores, sparking little fires along your skin as it journeys from your chest down to your stomach before settling right between your thighs.

There's nothing in your head except how massive he feels behind you, wandering hand gentle but eager a certain roughness appearing when his lithe fingers press through the fabric, toying with your clothed clit. It's a promise for what's to come, judging by the quiet groan that melts into your skin from his throat as his hips buck into you.

"You don't know what you do to me do you?" It's whispered softly, mimicking the ginger kiss he places on your hollow of your throat.

If you could think sensible words you would speak but right now everything is loud and roaring and words feel to heavy for your tongue. So you hum instead, whimpering when his fingertips circle your clit.

You can feel the smile on his lips. Hear it in what he says next.

"I should show you then, shouldn't I?"

[teeztheflag]

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Wolf!Ateez Reaction to when they accidentally hurt their mate

warnings: strong language, fighting, injuries, mentions of blood, mentions of bullying

a/n: ok ok I am really sorry I had to change the request a little bit so it doesn’t become repeating <3

general taglist: @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @yunhobabygurl @multidreams-and-desires

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k i m  h o n g  j o o n g

Usually the alpha was the most caring person with you. Bringing you flowers and spending as much time with you as possible. When the fights between several packs reached his land he knew dangerous times were coming.

Instead of talking to you and taking you to the meetings he decided it would be safer for you to stay in your house guarded when the attacks began.

Little did he know that you were tired of not being included and as the luna of the pack it was time to use your own power to help. Hong Joong was in a full fighting and killing mode when you were circled by five other werewolves who tried to kill you without mercy.

Hong Joong‘s senses were blended when he launched at the intruders and absentmindedly also accidentally bit your leg earning him a painful cry from your wolf.

Immediately he felt like his heart shuttered to pieces not knowing you would be out here in the battlefield. You limp away from your mate and run back to your mansion. Hong Joong changes back into his human and sags to the ground.

He still cannot fully control himself. That’s why he didn’t want you to help. He cries out and lays down on the grass not knowing if he could get under your eyes again.

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p a r k  s e o n g  h w a

Running away from a horde of big - way too big - wolves wasn’t what you planned for your camping trip. It was easy the third time you stumbled over your own feet hearing the low growls behind you. Your blood seems to freeze when you emerge a wide meadow where the only source of light is given by the full moon.

Tears escape your eyes when another whimper leaves you - they circled you. Was this a normal behavior for wolves? What should you do in a situation like this?

You’re only in a light see-through gown because of the hot temperatures these days. It feels like the wolves are strategizing at how they share gazes and let out noises that could be mistaken as chuckling.

Suddenly one of them jumps on you pinning you down to the ground. The animal is flashing it’s dangerous canines at your shaking form. You cannot help yourself to frantically scream and try to push it off you.

It seems to lower itself only more and out of instinct you bare your neck fearing this would be the end for you. The wolf sniffles and licks the spot under your ear. A tear runs down you cheek when you can feel a sharp pain where he draws a little bit of blood.

Suddenly it is pushed off you with force and a much stronger growl leaves a completely black wolf that’s is standing in front of you. You follow the scene in front of you with interested eyes when the other wolves seem to bow down in submission and quickly vanish out of the scene.

Great. The big bad wolf wants you for himself.

It really confuses you when the wolf slowly turns around eying you for a while. You try to get away from it when it nears your form and leans down to lick away the blood that is running down your neck. Again a sound of pain leaves your form to which the wolf backs away in an instant.

A huff can be heard and with conflicted eyes it turns around to escape the scene.

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j e o n g  y u n  h o

„Why are you running away from me?“ No answer.

„Do you like being chased?“ You still don’t answer.

„Okay, (y/n). We know it since three days so why are you not recognizing our bond?“

A tear escapes you which you’re quick to wipe away with the back of your shaking hand. You stop abruptly staring into the depths of the forest. Your gaze turns to the ground when you can sense Yun Ho moving to stand in front of you.

„My little mate. Why aren’t you talking to me? Did I do something wrong?“

„Wrong?“ You look up your hands turning into fists out of anger. Your chest rises with your breaths and you can feel your body heating up.

Yun Ho‘s playful smile soon vanishes and he starts to look concerned. „My love, why are you so sad?“

Of course your souls are already starting to form a connection and he feels your emotions.

„You’re asking if you did something wrong? How about hanging out with all the people that have nothing but bad comments about me left? Laughing at me? Hurting me whenever they can?“

Yun Ho starts to realize what you’re talking about.

„You’ve hurt me, so much already. That is not easy to accept.“

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k a n g  y e o  s a n g

You can feel his eyes burning on your back since half an hour. The beta next to you shamelessly flirts around although he knows your mate is sitting back with his friends.

Yeo Sang was one of the more roguish wolves in your pack always tending to not listen to any orders or picking a fight. Finding out about your bond was actually really shocking to you. You’re probably one of the nicest girls in the pack - according to folks. Always dressed in some pretty dress or blouse and never a too low neckline.

Your connection was still fresh and so far you managed to have the minimum contact with the trouble maker. Just to the point of tonight where the younger people of your pack met up for a campfire and some drinks.

„Wanna take a swim?“ You blush at his words but take his hand anyway letting him guide you through the trees. Standing in front of the lake and seeing that the beta ist already getting rid of his clothes makes you feel bad. He’s smirking at you.

„I don’t know if this is ok...“ Suddenly the beta gets a blow into the face by one of Yeo Sang‘s friends and two of them start to secure the beta in his holds. You’re overwhelmed with the situation immediately and Yeo Sang‘s eyes are dangerously yellow. He gets a painful hold on your wrist screaming at you but you’re not in the position to answer him.

„Y - you’re hurting me.“ Yeo Sang‘s mouth twitches at your words and with a hiss he let’s go of your arm ordering his friends to take you to his home.

The beta spits out blood laughing at the remaining guys and Yeo Sang.

„Great. Now she fears you even more.“ Yeo Sang punches him again knowing he’s right. He lets out a frustrated sigh condemning his short temper.

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c h o i  s a n

It was San‘s highest priority to keep the daughter of their alpha safe. Naturally he was always by your side following you around sometimes to your dismay.

This night you were able to shake the boy off and visit a club with your friends in the town nearby. Mostly humans could be seen here and you finally were able to let loose.

Shaking your body from left to the right you can feel a pair of arms sneaking around your waist to move you to the rhythm with him. Your head falls back landing on the shoulder of your dance partner a permanent smirk on his face.

It all happens to fast when you can feel someone ripping you out of the grip of the stranger. You fall down to the ground hurting your knee in the process. Hissing out you can see your friends immediately rushing to your side while you give the intruder a deadly glare.

San doesn’t stop to give the beautiful man punches when you’re quick to stand up and pry him off the man. San‘s eyes turn into a dangerous color when he eyes you an you know you better get out off here before he looses himself fully.

Outside he has a strong grip on your arm and ushers you into his car. The night flys by while a soft tune is humming. You’re so pissed at him that you decide to better not say anything. Suddenly he speaks up: „You’re letting vampires touch you now? Yeah? The daughter of the alpha is getting it on with vampires!“

„I - I didn’t know he was a - “

„Of course you didn’t! You are so young and literally know nothing!“

After a while of silence you turn to him a sigh escaping you. „I am sorry, San. Thank you for rescuing me...“

His gaze is fixed on the street and he can feel his heart and soul pulling on a bond that is still not touchable for you.

„It is my job to look after you. I failed...“

„No! You didn’t! I promise I won’t ever run away from you again!“ Silence follows but with a last glance San frowns deeply.

„Your knee... this will be a problem when we’re back.“

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s o n g  m i n  g i

„Yes, Min Gi! Just a little bit - closer!“ The wolf under you grunts while balancing you on his shoulders.

Your fingers are close to the fruit that is considered very rare in the realm. Your fingers are close to touching the fruit when suddenly your self made latter shakes and both of you fall down with a low thud.

„Ouch! Min Gi!“ The wolf‘s head hurts and his vision blurrs but hearing your crying he quickly stands up on his paws and howls out.

His tail is wiggling excited while he licks your face and tries to comfort you.

„I - I think my wrist is twisted.“ Tears are running down your cheeks while Min Gi suddenly changes back into his human form a frown on his face.

„Oh my god, I am so sorry!“ He frantically turns from left to right gripping his hair out of frustration. „What should I do what should I do!“

„Min Gi!“ You say through gritted teeth trying to hold in the pain. „Calm down and take me back to the pack!“

Min Gi wears a blank face hurt because he hurt you.

„Min Gi!“

He shakes his head to get a clear mind and sends you a firm nod. „Right. Back to the pack!“

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j u n g  w o o  y o u n g

You and Woo Young often played around in your wolf form chasing each other in the forest. Of course your animal instinct pushed you to little fights from time to time doesn’t matter if it is your mate.

Usually the fights always ended in the two of you changing back into your human body and starting a heated session.

This time unfortunately Woo Young pushed you a little bit to hard against the tree earning him a painful howl out of you. First you can hear him jumping around snickering for winning the battle but when you’re still lying down not moving much he slowly emerges your side tilting his head confused.

„(y/n)?“ He nudges your side with his snout trying to get a response from you but you keep breathing hard letting out little whimpers.

„(y/n)?! Are you hurt?“ Immediately his playful demeanor is gone and he changes back into his human form to search your body for any injuries.

„Oh shit! Change back! Come on!“ He’s totally devastated by now trying to caress you and encourage you with slow motions. You’re a crying mess when you’re back in your naked form.

„Woo Young... my b-back...“ He’s quick to pick you up bridal style and carry you past the trees in a lightning speed.

„Hold on a little bit longer, sweetheart.“ His firm voice and determined gaze really does it‘s wonders and you try to hang on to it until you reach the hospital.

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c h o i  j o n g  h o

Jong Ho could only snicker how you always managed to get out of his way. The campus was big and you really thought the handsome male that just happened to cross your way out of pure coincidence. Of course Jong Ho made sure to follow your every step because he just couldn’t help himself.

Finally finding his mate filled his body with adrenaline and having you not in the eye sight drove him crazy. The only problem that stopped him from immediately getting to you: you’re human. Probably not knowing about the world of magic and their creatures.

It was just the problem that you happened to have a boyfriend and one day it was too late for self control when he had the boy pinned to the wall in one of the cafeterias of the campus.

„Stay away from her!“ Your boyfriend shuddered at the low growl that came from the boy in front of him not knowing the slightest what he did wrong when he just gave a you peck on the cheek.

You screamed and kicked at him not knowing what happened a few seconds ago. When he suddenly turns around leaving you dumbfounded and all the others in the location you decide you wouldn’t let him go this easily.

You follow him and don’t even recognize that he’s going into the woods. He stops in his tracks when you don’t stop talking and you can see him breathing hard. Jong Ho tries to control his feelings but the frustration is taking over and when you try to turn him around by his shoulder he accidentally pushes you.

Your head collides with a stone and blood can be seen leaving the desperate wolf speechless. He runs to your side trying to wake you up but he’s getting no reaction out of your form. With tears pricking his eyes he’s quick to carry you to his pack to help you knowing it is now to late for you to turn back.

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↺ back to navi

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[ginazmemeoir]

for @gopikanyari - i couldn't draw them but i did write this fic.

tagging @taareginn @momo-all-the-way @dragonfairy1231 @aadyeah @weird-u @holding-infinity-and-a-book @aloomu @carmen-riddle @mango-pickle

Everything slows down. All I feel is my breath, the sweat trickling down my face, and the tension in my hand dissipating as I release the knife and let it fly. It strikes the dummy with a ‘thwack’, and I keep staring at it. Miss. Again.

My father didn’t consider educating his youngest child, a girl, in the art of warfare. So after getting married to five men, all brothers, in a strange twist of fate, having near death experiences in the forest and at my husbands’ home in Hastinapur, I decided to instruct myself. Swords made me feel confident, bows and arrows made me feel like a hero in an epic, but knives? They made me feel like a toddler playing pretend. And yet, Drona, my husbands’ mentor and father’s sworn enemy, insisted on teaching me in “the art of the blade”.

I lean against the wall, wiping the sweat off using a cloth, and head for a bath. As I exit, my maid Malti approaches me, her face writ with worry. “Um… uh… Your Majesty…” she stutters. I place my hand on her shoulder and calm her down, “What happened Malti? Something in your family?” I ask. Instead, Malti hands me a card. I take it from her, beaming at the seal – a dolphin encircled by a peacock feather – Krishna’s emblem. I greedily tear the elaborate wrapping, desperate for the kind of raucous and “unladylike” interaction that I only got with Krishna. My eyes skim over the letter’s contents, and my heart sinks. “Impossible,” I mutter, clutching the letter in my hand, “my husbands promised me complete fidelity. They cannot remarry again.” Malti, her voice trembling, then uttered the words which my feeble brain couldn’t read, “Your Highness, the invite was delivered by a member of the Dwaraka council. Prince Arjuna is getting married to Subhadra, Lord Govinda’s sister.”

The streets of Hastinapur are jubilant with celebrations, as their prince returns with his new bride. All over the city, repairs were done, and frivolous, expensive structures were erected, all in an effort to show the audacious wealth of the Kuru empire. The cheerful, flower and gold bedecked exterior hid the internal deformities. Suyodhana’s maternal uncle, Shakuni, or as everybody called him in the land – the snake – fumed at what had transpired (from what I gathered Suyodhana was to be wed to Subhadra, who had eloped with my husband); King Dhritarashtra boiled in silent anger, while Queen Gandhari taunted and cried out her distress every now and then.

Arjuna arrived on the gates of the palace, his new bride at his side, followed by my other husbands (his brothers) and Krishna. Both bride and groom were bedecked in the finest of clothes and jewels, looking like overstuffed dummies. Even from here in my balcony, I could clearly see the bride’s discomfort in wearing the heavy jewellery and silks preferred by the Hastinapur royalty even in the scorching summer. All the ceremonies and rituals were performed with due tradition, thus amounting to an hour or two, and then only did the entourage enter the palace. I hurry down to meet the party, when I see the newlyweds walking towards me. Anger floods every pore of my body. Had I had my way, I would have scorched the palace with the same fire from which I was born. What kind of man is this cruel, taking his second wife to meet his first? Disgusted I slam the door on their stricken faces, and bury myself in my misery. Was I never destined to be happy?

The years pass by, and an unlikely bond forms between Subhadra and I – the kind of bond shared by mothers. It took six pregnancies to break the barrier between us, and she had approached first. That would always be a guilt I would carry – that I hadn’t extended my hand earlier, blinded by pride and anger. Soon, awkwardness gives place to an unlikely friendship, with her teaching me the various wonders of the world she had seen on her various trips; Greece, China, the Golden Isand of Lanka, she had seen it all. Meanwhile I taught her how to wield a sword , and helped her navigate the tricky waters of politics and party throwing. It was a rare, pure friendship – one spent wearing a cotton sari under a scorching sun, eating mangoes with sticky hands and giggling, one I had never experienced before.

I walk towards my palace. Or, not my palace, since Duryodhana owns it now. Nothing is left, not even my pride and dignity. My dishevelled appearance, torn sari, entangled hair and bruises make for a frightening appearance apparently, stunning everybody into silence. I don’t feel human anymore, just a husk slowly inching its way before it collapses, for my soul was stripped along with my clothes in that den of gamblers and cowards. I seethe with a burning hatred against my husbands, pretentious motherfuckers cowering behind their false dharma and “code of chivalry”, which conveniently vanished when they took multiple wives and yet made me marry all five of them against my will. I want to rage and burn and destroy and drink the blood of Dushasana and use Duryodhana’s skull as the cup. I thought my city, this magnificent city of Indraprastha, loved me the same way I loved it. And yet, in my darkest hours, none came to stop what followed, except perhaps Vikarna, a brother of the man whom I didn’t consider human. Subhadra was in the guava orchards with Abhimanyu, when she saw me. She quickly put him down, and rushed towards me, trying to cover me with a scarf, as if I cared anymore. She took me inside, and drew a bath for me. That day, I scrubbed my skin raw till it turned red and almost tore my hair from my scalp, trying to rid myself of Dushasana’s filthy touch. She then gives me some khus, which I drink gingerly, my tears mixing with the sweet green concoction. At first, she looks stricken, unable to believe what had transpired. Disbelief gave way to pity, which gave way to anger. “It’s useless Subhadra. Nothing is left. And I will make sure, that nothing will be.” I console her. I see the fear in her eyes then. Good. People had forgotten who I was, but I’d make sure I’d remind them in the years to follow. They blamed me for what had happened right, that I was too weak or too proud? Well then I’d like to prove them right. I am Draupadi. Paanchali. Yajnaseni. Born from fire, born to wreak havoc, born to change the fate of this cursed land of Jambudweep, where the roll of a dice values more than a person.

The 13 years that follow are spent in agony. Twelve years of wandering in the forest, facing arrogant saints and malevolent creatures. I keep wondering of Subhadra and my kids. When she had heard the news, she had slapped an unsuspecting Arjuna, and taken Abhimanyu and my kids with her to Dwarka, safe and secure, forbidding him to show her his face until he proved himself worthy. Arjuna soon parted ways with us in the forest, going off on some adventure, finding new beauties to marry and accumulating more powers for the war to follow. I meet Hidimba in the forest as well, Bhima’s first wife. I envy her freedom and her life. And then comes the dreaded year of agyaatvasa – living in the shadows, for fear of recognition. Yudhishthira becomes advisor to King Virata of Matsya, Bhima a cook, Nakula the master of stables, Sahadev a shepherd and I, the mighty Draupadi? A hairdresser. How cruel life was, making the woman who kept her hair unkempt and open as a reminder of her revenge, a hairdresser to a queen. Arjuna also returned, but as the eunuch dancer Brihannala. Even here, peace eluded me as the queen’s brother Keechaka turned his perverted gaze towards me. But this time, I had enough. And so I invite him to a secluded spot and then have his skull crushed by Bhima.

It’s the time of war. Vultures and hyenas gather in the fields of Kurukshetra in anticipation of the feast to follow. I reside in the camp with the other ladies and children of the house. I am unable to recognize my own kids at first, how quickly they’ve grown and how much they have changed. They greet me with the same love and respect, but something has changed fundamentally in our relationship, a cherished bond that would never be the same. Subhadra is there by my side, making me live their childhood through their mischievous stories and their life at Dwarka, and yet my mind wanders to our six sons – wearing their armour and lifting their weapons, barely on the cusp of manhood and yet already thrust into a war that isn’t their own. I stopped believing in gods long since, and yet I pray to any that might exist with a shred of mercy in their heart towards me – let my children live.

Abhimanyu’s mutilated corpse greets us on the thirteenth day of war. His body looked so gruesome, even Yamraj would have shuddered. Subhadra’s wails pierce through the sky, reverberating more than the clang of metal and steel. She reaches for Abhimanyu’s body, hugging him close, with his head on her lap, embracing her son for a final time before the fires engulfed him. I am too shocked, and Subhadra too bereaved, to either comfort or be comforted. There is no sermon, no balm, no magic for this loss. His loss permeates into every single cell of our being, and stays there. Subhadra cries the entire night, her eyes red from crying, consuming neither food nor water. I stay by her side all along. The other ladies comfort his wife Uttara, in the final month of her pregnancy, devastated by the destruction of her own small world before it could begin. Finally, when dawn breaks, and her body is devoid of tears, does Subhadra arise, but she’s not the same. She goes with the Pandavas to cremate her only child, and returns back. She utters not a single word, conveys not a single emotion. She doesn’t rage like fire – she is instead like the oceans near her home. A turbulent storm rages within, which the calm face doesn’t give away.

I come back to my tent having exacted my revenge. The sound of Dushasana’s arms being ripped off, his skull cracking open echo in my ears. My hair drip with his blood, my face smeared with sweat. I thought I would feel victorious, at peace now that I had avenged myself, avenged Abhimanyu’s death. But then Subhadra gazes at me, and a single gaze is enough to communicate everything in my heart. Is this who I am now? What more atrocities would be committed in this war?

The war has come at an end, as Duryodhana lies dying in agony, his thighs shattered. I go with everybody to cremate the fallen and pay my respects to Grandsire Bhishma, as he too draws his last breath upon his bed of arrows and leaves this world. All the bodies are collected in a massive mountain of rotting half eaten flesh, and cremated. The fire blazes high, an inferno reaching for the skies, taking the souls of everybody within it towards Indra’s court, which receives anybody who dies fighting. The flame reminds me of my own birth, which seems like a lifetime away. I return back to camp, weary from all the death that surrounded me, and am instead greeted by a fresh nightmare. My brother Dhrishtadyumna’s head hangs at the gate, his decapitated body beneath him, hands closed around his sword even in death. I rush in to find everybody dead – physicians, maids, cooks, attendants, charioteers, guards, everybody. I enter my sons’ tent, fearing the worst and that is when I see their corpses. They were still in bed. Sleeping. They were supposed to ride out tomorrow to Indraprastha, their true home. They were supposed to grow up and live their life far away from court or war. They were planning to finally visit the fabled Palace of Illusions, swimming in the Mirror Lake, plucking fresh fruits from the orchards. Sutasoma intended to devour all the books he could lay his hands on. Prativindhya wanted to try wine. Srutakarma wanted to learn pottery and sculpting. Shatanika wanted to try make up, while Shrutasena wanted to learn music and painting. My children were robbed of their lives and their futures in their sleep. Now I truly knew the meaning of loss. I would rather die a thousand times over just so I could bring them back. I collapse, the last thing I hear is Subhadra shouting my name. I don’t feel the ground as I fall.

It is in this hell on earth does Subhadra’s daughter in law Uttara give birth. She screams in pain as she tries to push her child out of her womb, the last child of a massacred dynasty, when the room suddenly fills with a scorching white light. It disappears as suddenly as it arrived, and everybody immediately figures out what happened. The Brahmastra, the strongest weapon in the universe. Aimed directly at Uttara’s womb and her unborn child. It is an unspeakable crime. The death of his grandnephew makes Krishna goes insane, and for the first time in my life, I see him become the angel of death. He picks up the babe, and proclaims, “If I have been a truly righteous human, let this child come to life.” The child, a boy, gasps and cries, strong and powerful. I have stopped believing in miracles, but this is one I admit. Subhadra reached for her grandson, and cradles him in her arms. Her tears drop on his forehead, as she smiles at him. As she hands the baby to me, there’s an understanding in our eyes. An agreement. A promise. Never shall this child know suffering. Never shall this child know pain. He will have what we could not. He will have a childhood, a future, a life.

We make this oath to ourselves. Sisters, united by pain, suffering and hope.

[yamagucji]

Kenma, Yamaguchi, and Kageyama with a shy s/o

pairing: x gn!reader

warnings: none <3 just pure fluff

Kenma

while kenma is mostly quiet, he’s attentive to conversing with you

he will talk and open up more to people he likes (like with hinata during the camp)

so initiating conversations will mostly be from him! kuroo and yaku are shedding tears of joy and proudness

when he notices you getting a little clammy from a crowd or having too much attention, he will show up from behind and put his arms over you

he’ll have you in his arms all the while holding his console in his hands. he’ll pretend to be explaining to you the quirks of the game when really he’s just diverting your attention from the crowd

yes kenma is addicted to his games so they’re a priority :(

but when you’re in the comfort of his home he will willingly drop his games to make sure you’re comfortable

“do you want something to eat?” “are you sure? there’s lots of food in the fridge.”

“you can sit on my bed if you’d like” “i really dont mind. i wanna make sure you’re comfortable, that’s all.”

kenma is hyperly aware of your shyness so he’ll make it known that he’s there for you with his presence

if you’re one to shy away from the crowd, he’ll come find you and situate himself beside you, shoulder to shoulder

“i was looking for you, yk. did you eat lunch yet?”

i feel like kenma’s one of those quiet beasts that go “grr”😡 if they’re bothered like he can be very hostile but you’re his baby!! he’s so soft for you

kuroo wants to know what ur secret is bc he’s never seen kenma that putty and soft

Yamaguchi

yamaguchi is a shy and awkward bean himself but when it comes to his s/o he will step up to protect you!

please let him protect you :( he takes pride knowing that his presence alone makes you feel safe and comfortable

having yams by your side also means having saltyshima! although he acts indifferent about your presence he’s aware of your shyness so he makes use of his sarcastic abilities whenever someone makes you feel uncomfortable

when you’re introduced to the team yams is by your side with a reassuring hold on your hand

if tanaka and nishinoya get too all up on you, yamaguchi will not hesitate to scold them like he did to kageyama

i feel like yams is the type to send you encouraging notes for stuff like when you have a class presentation

he will shower you with love and compliments afterwards!

yamaguchi is someone who can get shy himself, so he’s very attentive to your needs and boundaries

he likes to spoil you btw! he’ll take you out for icecream and you pay for the fries (you give him the soggy ones ofc)

you’ll turn away to hide your face whenever you take a lick (or bite for u monsters) bc you get a little shy when eating in public

of course, yamaguchi does not fail to notice the spot of cream rested on top of your lip

“t-there’s something on your face”

before you can ask him where, he takes the tip of his thumb and effortlessly wipes it off

you’re so embarrassed but also really flustered at what he had just done😖

in conclusion: yams hands you a palm full of love and affection everyday so please shower him with some love as well <3

Kageyama

kageyama is a nervous wreck when it comes to you but he will not hesitate to swing you behind him as he protects you from whatever enemy that dares to harm you

that enemy includes nishinoya and tanaka who immediately fawn over you and go “pretty✨” as soon as you’re introduced to the team

you lean into him and hide your face in his back due to all the attention on you

please there’s litteraly smoke coming out from his ears as the scene unfolds with him protecting you from the awestruck boys and yelling at hinata to stop bombarding you with questions

“hinato boke! they’re shy! you’re asking too many questions!”

you like to spend lunch away from all the chaos so it’s usually under the shade of a tree or a secluded bench

it’s become a routine for kags to show up with an extra carton of milk/your favorite beverage

in return you also bring him an extra bento every once in a while or pack him a curry bun

kageyama will walk you home whenever he can and it always ends with you pecking him on the cheek and scurrying into your house as a blush forms on both of your faces

one day he’s feeling particularly needy, so when you begin to scurry away he grabs you by the hand and brings you close to him

bby boy is very blushy so he CANNOT look u in the eyes rn

“can i get one more?”

now it’s your turn to blush😳 but you happily give him another kiss on the cheek

after you pull away is when he finally looks at you

he wants more kithes!!! so with a soft grip on your waist he leans in and places a kiss on your lips

you two come home with a huge blush on your faces and bursting phat uwu’s

[officialscaramouche]

PART 3 OF THE REMEMBERING FIC POR FAVOR,,,I BEG 😞🙏

Of course! And thank u for specifying which one bc I mix the two stories up all the time lol

pairing: Scaramouche x gn!reader

wc: 1,484

tw: none

prev next

When you woke, you lay in the softest, and silkiest bed you’ve ever laid in. The room was elegant and ornate, the walls a deeply painted red with golden accents. You sat up with surprisingly less resistance from your wound, looking down and at the bandages that you were wrapped in. Where was your shirt? And who undressed you?

The door swung open with a click and you quickly covered yourself with the blanket, looking to the door. Your captain held a tray with dishes on it, presumably breakfast. “Good morning,” he said, kicking the door closed and making his way to your bedside. He placed the tray on the bed table and took a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “Is your chest feeling better?”

You bring the blanket up further and glare at him. Was he the one who undressed you? How unprofessional of a captain. “Did you undress me?”

He took another forkful and held it in front of your mouth. “Yes.”

“Why? Why not the second grade medic?”

He rolled his eyes when you pushed the fork away, eating another bite himself. “What, you want Tartaglia to see you naked? You’re lucky I’m the one who did!”

“I wish none of you undressed me without my permission!!”

Scaramouche balled his fist around the fork tightly. You were getting on his nerves. Not eating, not drinking, only fighting. “Why not me?! I’m your fucking bo—”

The door to your room clicked open again except this time, your Lieutenant came in. “Whoa! Everyone can hear you yelling outside!” He walked up to the two of you with a smile. “It’s too early to be arguing like this. It’s like you never even forgot anything!” He laughed, gesturing to you.

You glared at him too, turning to look out the window. “Are we leaving yet? I want to get back to the harbor.”

“Not yet,” Scaramouche grumbled through the pancakes. “Because of you, we cannot leave until the day after the next.”

“Because of me?!” You shout, turning to face your captain and wanting to shove him to the ground. But you turn a little too quickly and you crumble under the pain of reopening your wound.

“Please, [Y/N], we need your wound closed before we can start moving out.” He pulled down the blanket to look at your chest. You instinctively grab his wrist to stop him, but the hand above yours that also tried to stop him was your captain. Why would he care if Tartaglia looked at you naked? It wasn’t his body!

You stared Tartaglia in the eyes. “I can look at it myself. I’m the medic.”

“Alright, comrade. I’m gonna snag breakfast before it’s all gone. And you,” he pointed at Scaramouche. “No more yelling.”

After finally getting you to eat, your mood brightened up. Scaramouche was staring out the window with his chin resting in his palm, every now and then his eyes flickering to look at you. You were the same, despite not knowing much of anything. You still ate your food with vigor and you still got happier and less snappy after you ate. “Oh god are these from Mondstadt?! There so fucking good!”

Scaramouche scowled, taking a strawberry from your plate. “Watch your fucking mouth!”

“Look who’s talking! I get it from you!”

You were right, though. After spending so much time with Scaramouche, certain words became more of your daily vocabulary. But wait…why did you spend so much time with your captain?

“Well hurry up so I can take your plates to the staff and you can change your own fucking dressing.”

“Why didn’t you just wait for me to wake up?” You asked, taking a big sip of your water.

“Because you asked me to.”

There was a pause. “I’ve been asleep though. Why’d I ask you?”

Scaramouche grinned like a little boy. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because you love me?”

You shoved your tray off of your lap and crossed your arms. “You are so not my type.”

Scaramouche laughed. “Bet I can change that.”

That evening you had another hydrotherapy session. This time, you weren’t going to fall asleep. It was the same as before; Tartaglia held pools of water over your ears and temples. After having the soothing water wash over you, it was as if you had melted into another existence. Your mind was free of thought, your body light and numb. You didn’t exist, and you weren’t anywhere.

Then a familiar voice brought you something to focus on. “Are you awake?” Your Lieutenant jokes.

You smile. “Yes, I’m awake.”

“Okay, I’m going to ask you simple questions. You should know the answers to these.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m serious, please answer truthfully and to the best of your knowledge.” There was a pause as he wiggled his fingers, shifting the water in ways that you were sure had meaning. “What is your name?”

“[Y/N],” you say simply.

“Good! Who is your captain?”

“Captain Scaramouche,” you reply.

“Excellent! And who do we work for?”

“The Tsaritsa.”

“Good job. I’m going to ask you more subjective questions, you ready?”

You feel your mind beginning to fizz, like a glass of soda. You fight it, and nod. “I’m ready.”

“If you feel any pain, or are shocked by forgotten trauma, we can stop. Just say the word “starconch,” and I will cease the therapy.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tartaglia sucked in a deep, nervous breath. “When you think of the Tsaritsa, what comes to mind?”

“Um…I think of her kindness. She’s so understanding and she accommodates my wishes.”

“If you didn’t work for her, what do you imagine you’d be doing?”

Your face contorts in thought. “Hopefully…living a peaceful, mundane life. Working everyday, being with the one I love everyday, for example.”

“Let’s say you live this life. Who is the person you’re living with?”

“I…don’t know. We’ve been together for two years now but I don’t know who it is.”

“Can you describe him?”

You cock your head to the side. “How did you know it was a man?”

“Nevermind,” he cuts off, not wanting to potentially ruin your memories with his incorrect words. “Next question. Do you enjoy being a medic?”

“It’s never fun to see my teammates get hurt. But I have confidence that I’d never let anyone die.”

Tartaglia hummed above you, and smiled. He admired your confidence and your ability to be strong and courageous when you needed to. “Is it hard being a medic?”

You smiled, and laughed a little. “Nothing is hard when you know what you’re doing,” you chided. “I think fighting is hard, but you do it wonderfully everyday.”

He observed you carefully, a thin veil of darkness washing over his face. “If someone taught you how to fight, would you?” The question was a little more self indulgent, hoping that if he could teach you, you wouldn’t get hurt like this again.

“No, because the man I love protects me just fine.”

You were right. The person that you loved was like a guard dog of sorts. If someone so much as had an ugly scowl on their face as they’re coming toward you, he’s there to step right in between. He was always there, always reliable. But the one time he wasn’t, you nearly met your fate by the time they got you back to camp.

Tartaglia shifted. “Is there anything you know about the man you’re with?”

“He’s handsome,” you sang, a little teasingly. “And he’s so intelligent. And he’s sweet to me, and he’s silly at times, and when we fight we have bad fights. Yelling at each other, saying awful things…but he’s so quick to apologize and do things to make me forgive him.” Tartaglia watched as you went on and on, feeling bad that you had all these things to say about him but he didn’t have a face or name. Just the feeling of love and happiness for a mystery man. “And he’s always there for me. I try to be there for him, but when I do I mess things up. Like right now, I’m only hurt because I—” You sat up suddenly, disrupting the therapy and turning to look at Tartaglia. “I was saving him,” you say with wide eyes, as if he didn’t know that. “I…only threw myself into the battle to save him. That means…it’s one of the guys here right?”

Tartaglia raised his brow and shrugged his shoulders. He wished he wasn’t a good person, because he would’ve taken this opportunity to tell you he was your boyfriend. “I’d tell you but that would ruin the fun!”

You glared, your brain feeling a little strange still from the session. You stared down at your chest wrapped in bandages. This was your love. You placed your hand over your heart to steady your heart rate. “Better me than him.”

Tartaglia disagreed.

[abittersweetsongforyou]

wtfock fic recs part 2

saddle up for pt 2 babyyyy

wtfock fic recs pt 1

the underrated (just read them trust me they're brilliant)

wishing, wanting and longing by dottori

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart by orphan_account This isn't our first time around by noobishere this is us, through your eyes by dottori - with yasminas season starting id like to draw everyones attention to this fic from yasminas pov its sweet and sentimental and lovely and the fact that it has under 100 kudos is a fucking crime Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) by berrevy - i love this author so much and this fic is so good, i love the way they're written here, the description is beautiful, 10/10 A morning without you is a dwindled dawn by Createdforyou - so soft i love seeing them just living their lives together Elayna Aan Zee by zetaphiuchi(ryuujitsu) - this one is sad and maybe sander forgives too quickly but its beautifully written and i love it you're an angel in disguise (you're an angel in my eyes) by thekardemomme - this is so sweet and lovely and warm everyone should read it I do now. by irregardlxss - robbe tells jens about the hate crime dreaming of you by ivy_seas - just them being happy at christmas time hold all my cliches on the tip of my tongue by nbrook - they're dorks and they're too horny for their own good but they love each other very much i've never been in love (but i wanna be, i wanna be) by ladypeaceful - what if sander took noors place at the party in episode 1 we have the stars (and this is given once only) by merengue - military au but also childhood friends and its so soft and beautiful and they love each other so much Agents Sliding Down The Chimney by berrevy - i seriously cannot recommend berrevy enough this is a christmas fic thats a little sad but also a whole lot sweet and very real which is what i like

angst bby

I follow you (deep sea, baby) by emotionalgoblin - sander pines in my mind, in my head by cubedmango - canon divergence for s3 last two episodes

gonna help you be free, honey by lamourestout - aftermath of the hate crime

We're always gonna be contaminated by nbrook - sander fucked upppp and everyone is sad but they communicate so its fine

the night we met by themoongirl - college au, sad boys :(((

show me some stars (beneath this ceiling) by peaceoutofthepieces - five times robbe wishes he could wake up next to sander and one time he does You're always there for me by nbrook - the s4 car accident aftermath (don't want anything) but all of you by MajorAccent - s4 car accident but extra extra angsty i know someone who kisses the way (a flower opens) by romantiser robbe and sander see each other again after sander paints the mural

sander and robbe being so in love it hurts

he is the one by themoongirl - marriage proposal im soft

I'm holding my breath, as the seasons change by bruisingknees - robbe moves out of the flatshare

new year's eve by themoongirl - sander is sad but robbe is soft

all you never say by nothingbutniall - fluffffff

you're the one that i want by themoongirl - sander needs reassurance

dark paradise by luckycharmz - sander is coming out of a low and robbe takes care of him

i was grounded (while you filled the skies) by wafflesofdoom - theyre in love okay

If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance by allforyoumylove - theyre childhood friends and theyre in love

oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight by alsjeblieft - sander painting robbe

Early Morning Dancing by teen_content_queen - flatmates dance in the morning v v cute

(inside my head) I've been at war by nothingbutniall - they're so soft pls

The sun came up and I was looking at you by allforyoumylove

Baby, Home Is In Your Arms by clarecas - robbe comes home to sander after his exam

don't be scared, you are my rock by peaceoutofthepieces - sander is sad but robbe is there purple lips (underwater) by dottori - fluff so much fluff i love it sm

in all your gorgeous colors by nothingbutniall - sander paints robbe you're still the that i love (the only one i dream of) by thekardemomme - i couldve also put this in the angst category but they just love each other so much its so beautiful My darling, I'm rooting for you by allforyoumylove - sander is having a depressive episode and robbe loves him fully formed, ready to run by MajorAccent - sander is down and robbe just wants to be with him paper rings by thekardemomme - they love each other so much and theyre going to get married one day i've always wanted a (boyfriend) by thekardemomme - christmas is sanders favourite holiday and robbe doesnt love christmas but he loves sander Come lie with me by allforyoumylove - they're roommates but they cuddle and fall in love glimpses by foxsake5 - theyre just living their lives, being in love, as they should

boyfriends being boyfriends

I absolutely adore you but we're absolute beginners by nbrook - sander is adorable

boy, i fucking got you by noobishere - yeah its rated e but its so sweet okay

Lovesick by szamsson - sander picks robbe up from school

you're a wonder under summer sky by nothingbutniall - boyfriends go camping

memories painted with much brighter ink by nothingbutniall - Christmas gift giving at the flatshare

we're keeping it simple by noobishere - eenvoud babyyyyy

Meet me in the hallway by nbrook - ahsdka Milan

double date. by fockinglevendcliche - double date with amber and aaron

back to the beach house. by fockinglevendcliche - sander wants to get it on and robbe is weak but their friends are assholes

take me with your constant shame by peaceoutofthepieces - cute date hold me close by sincerelysobbe - robbe is stressed and sander is the best boyfriend you charge me up (like electricity) by howlingsaturn - secret boyfriends if you say swim by soundnvision - another date another pool Modern Love by angelboygabriel - okay yes this is e rated but their. boyfriends and they're happy they're just also horny mkay You make me feel like I am whole again by nbrook - robbe has a rough day but sander is there being all cute and making it better I've been looking so long at these pictures of you by nbrook - much banter very cute You're my favourite kind of night by nbrook - at a halloween party finally kissing the right people Show me a piece of your heart, show me a piece of your love by nbrook - boyfriend tag for the broerrrs channel, unfinished but so much fun thus far working double time by noobishere - sander is wearing a turtleneck and he looks hot in it Ground Control by angelboygabriel - christmas clinging and sex because why not oh and they're in love hopeless romantics by thekardemomme - it's their anniversary and ugh they love each other sm sander driesen versus a mistletoe by dottori - its christmas and sander just wants to fucking kiss robbe okay high for this by flowermaze - sander is drowsy and still finds time to flirt with robbe All You've Got to Do Is Win by berrevy - they actually do play that tennis match years kept in minutes by peaceoutofthepieces - they have traditions and its adorable pls love is the opening door by cryingcancer - robbe and sander facetime on their anniversary after sander was sappy on instagram Home by foxsake5 - sander is a massive simp and robbe looks hot in a robe You don't have to say you're mine by nbrook - robbe is a little insecure and sander is there to reassure him Distracting by sincerelysobbe - v v v cute jahsdjah sander is weak for robbe we all understand bro February 14th, 2021 by foxsake5 - no words bro just cute af if we can make it through december (maybe we'll make it through forever) by nothingbutniall - sobbe at the christmas market This = Love by nbrook - robbe is hungover and sander loves to tease him They ain't living life like this by Createdforyou - halloween but this year they're together

sexy times

Woensdag 16:36 by Anonymous

i don't even wanna fuck, i just like you by eversincewefellapart

Vrijdag 18:26 by Anonymous - hurt and comfort

video phone by tokyometropolis(mesohorany) - quarantine times

Don't know where I'm going from here (but I promise it won't be boring) by skamsnake

snakebite by Anonymous

Zaterdag 09:58 by foxsake5

Wildfire by sincerelysobbe - no smut just kissing but they steamy

come on (mess me up) by MajorAccent - sex but tender 🥺

The Teenage Trifecta by little_but_fierce

i glow pink in the night in my room (blossoming alone over you) by midsummernightoddity

life is a pop of the cherry by icedwhitemocha - the hotel

Ik Win by Anonymous

In his arms tonight by allforyoumylove

long may he reign by tokyometropolis(meohorany) - well considered smut jsdhjhd

Draw Me Closer by skamsnake

When I live my dream (please be there to meet me) by skamsnake

we click, we go boom! by strangeparties Dark Red by nancy_mcfly - friends with benefits play the game of grown-ups by Anonymous - they have a lot of sex but its because they're in love

[izzyizumi]

DIGIMON ADVENTURE + tri. + 2020 ~ Japanese version featuring DUO/SHIP: Taichi Yagami  [Taichi (“Tai”) Kamiya in US] + Koushiro[u] Izumi ; {Taishiro[u]} / [TaiKou / KouTai] ~ FAVORITE CONSISTENT!! Character Building DETAILS ~ MOMENTS & INTERACTIONS with bonus Parallels + Important Dialogues featuring: Meiko Mochizuki ; [MEICHI] Hikari Yagami ; [Yagami SIBLINGS] & Mrs. Yuuko Yagami + Tri Taichi; [TRI] + Adventure Taichi; 2020 Taichi; Tri Taichi Comparisons

Excerpt from the Digimon Adventure novel adaptation [with translation credit to Digital Scratch!] (please check comments for the link!):

As they walked, Koushiro asked Tentomon many things about this region and about Digimon. While doing so, he couldn’t help but feel a slight self–derision snorting at him in the back of his mind. Never before had he talked so much to a stranger, even if that stranger wasn’t a human being. In the days before he had left for camp, he normally avoided taking the initiative to talk to others in school. He didn’t like getting involved with them. Especially not when he didn’t even know who in the world he was. As a matter of course, his classmates rarely had a chance to talk with him. Many thought that he was hard to get along with, and Koushiro personally didn’t find that inconvenient so he did nothing to persuade them otherwise. Taichi Yagami was one of the few exceptions. Because their school curriculum had a physical education requirement, Koushiro was forced to choose a club. It was a mere coincidence that he chose the soccer club. He wouldn’t have to face people one-on-one if he was in a club emphasizing teamwork rather than individual achievement, and the positions in soccer appeared more vague than they were in baseball. He felt that in the soccer club, he wouldn’t have to go out of his way to engage with other people. Taichi was an upperclassman in that soccer club. It wasn’t that he was extremely talkative, but Taichi treated everyone without discrimination, as equals. That attitude of his didn’t change, even towards Koushiro. If Taichi hadn’t invited him, Koushiro was sure that he would have never gone to summer camp.

“TAICHI (Yagami) treated EVERYONE without DISCRIMINATION,”

BONUS:

“Taichi.” “(Huh?)” “Hasn’t it been a while?”

“What are you talking about-?”

“Since your summer’s been this lively?”

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