#Originally this chapter was going to be longer but I felt I reached a nice place to end it

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 10

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this. Labour.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 10 of 12!

“Breathe,” Victoria kept insisting.

“You are doing so well, Choupinette,” her mother cooed.

Colette was quite certain that she was going to die. 

At least it felt like it.

The pain was overwhelming. It didn’t feel like her body could take any more of it. The contractions were so strong and the pain was blinding in its intensity. She wasn’t certain if she could do this anymore.

“I can’t do this,” Colette choked out.

“Yes, you can,” Victoria insisted. Her voice was firm and steady. “You absolutely can do this. You’re already so far along, you just have to push. You can do this.”

"Just breathe," her mother said soothingly, stroking back her hair. "You are doing so well."

But she wasn’t doing well. 

She wanted Max. No, she needed Max.

She needed him so badly. She didn’t want to do this by herself. 

Colette cried out in pain as another very strong contraction hit her, clenching her teeth through it. "Max," she sobbed. "I need Max."

"I know," Victoria said, stroking her hand. "I know you do. But you can do this. Just a little bit longer, okay? It won’t be long now."

She didn’t want to do this without him. But what other choice did she have?

A strangled sob escaped her throat as she clutched her mother’s hand desperately as another contraction hit.

“We’re going to need you to push now,” the doctor said firmly. “You need to start pushing with the contractions.”

Colette cried out in pain as she tried her very best to push like they were telling her to. The pain was blinding in its intensity. But it hurt. Gods, it hurt more than anything that she had ever experienced. It was like her body was about to rip itself in half.

"You’re doing so well," her mother cooed.

"Keep Pushing."

Another strangled scream escaped her. "Max," she sobbed. "I need Max. I need him. I can’t do this.”

Victoria stroked her hair. "It’s almost over, Colette. It’s almost over. Just a little bit more," Vic promised her. 

Colette wanted to give up, she wanted to give in. She wanted the pain to end. But more than anything else, she just wanted Max.

Another scream was torn from her, a ragged cry of pain as a particularly severe contraction tore through her. She was certain that she wasn’t going to survive this. The pain was too severe.

"Keep Pushing."

"Keep Pushing."

"Push, Push, Push"

She didn’t understand how they expected her to keep going. She could feel herself flagging, she was so exhausted.

The room was a blur around her, dark spots dancing at the corner of her vision. The sound of her own screams echoed in her ears, the pain almost overwhelming. She thought she was going to pass out.

She heard the door open.

A small part of the pain-hazed part of her mind registered the sound. She thought she was hallucinating. Surely that wasn’t the sound of the door opening. Surely she was just losing her mind under the excruciating strain.

“That took you too fucking long,” Victoria snapped. Colette would have smiled, if she hadn’t been currently in the middle of pushing. Max's familiar voice echoed in her ears, and for one sweet second, the pain all but vanished.

And then he was there.  Her heart jumped and a small sob escaped her. Max. It was really Max. He was there. He was right beside her.

Dry lips pressed against her sweat slick forehead. “Liefje.“

He was there. He was really there. 

"Max," she sobbed out. "You’re here. You’re really here."

"Of course I am," he said shakily. He pushed back her sweaty hair from her forehead. "You didn’t think I was going to let you do this without me, do you?"

She wanted to tell him that, in all honesty, she had thought exactly that. If he hadn’t shown up, she would have had to do this without him. But she was too exhausted, and in too much pain to form the words. All she could do was clutch at his hand, desperately clinging onto him like a lifeline.

Max immediately threaded his fingers through hers, holding her hand tightly. "I’m right here," he soothed. "I’m not going anywhere.” He was giving her something solid to hang onto. 

“Another push,” the doctor encouraged.

With Max holding her hand, Colette gave one last, desperate push.

She was certain that she was going to pass out. She didn’t understand how she was still conscious. The pain was mind-numbing in its intensity. "Once more,” the doctor said firmly. “I can see the head. Just one more push.”

Colette whimpered, her breath coming in short sharp sobs. "I can’t,” she cried in exhaustion. "I can’t."

"You can,” Max said fiercely. “You are the strongest goddamn person I know, and if anyone can do this, it’s you. Just one more push, come on, liefje."

His grip on her hand was so tight, it was almost painful, but that brief moment of pain was worth it. Feeling Max's presence beside her, holding onto her so desperately with his fingers threaded firmly through hers, it was the only thing that gave her the last little bit of strength that she needed.

With a long, ragged scream, she gave one last push, pouring everything she had into it.

She could hear Max beside her, talking to her soothingly, but the words were all blending together. Her senses were slowly fading. "Push, you can do it, you’re almost done." The words were coming at her from all sides now, swirling and echoing amongst the darkness of her hazy vision, and it was all she could do to grip Max’s hand, and listen to the sound of his voice.

And then it was over.

The searing pain suddenly stopped. 

For just a moment, everything was quiet. 

A cry cut through the sudden silence

The sound echoed around them, small and shrill and so very loud in the stillness of the room. A choked gasp of relief escaped Colette as she slumped back against the pillows, utterly exhausted.

"There you go," Max murmured, gently wiping back the hair from her forehead. "It’s over, it’s over now. You did so well, liefje. You’ve done it."

She wanted to speak, to say something to him in return, but her tongue was so heavy in her mouth it would hardly form words. Her mind was still a blur of exhaustion, relief and adrenaline. All she could muster was a small whimper as she felt his hand gently stroking her hair.

The sound of the infant’s cries rang out again, more strongly this time. “Here,” the doctor said, sounding a little amused. “Let’s get that little girl on maman’s chest.”

Through the haze, Colette felt an immense amount of exhausted relief, as the doctor carefully placed a small, wiggling bundle on her chest.

The baby was beautiful. Small and new and perfect, and Colette felt like the very breath had been knocked out of her. All the exhaustion and the pain was suddenly entirely worth it as she cradled the tiny baby in her arms.

"Hello, bébé," she breathed softly, the words coming out as a whisper. “I thought you were going to be a boy,” she choked 

A broad smile covered her face as she gently stroked the downy soft tufts of dark hair covering the baby’s head. The small, tiny, perfect little fingers wrapped around her own, and Colette’s heart felt so full it felt like it was going to burst.

"I was right," Max said, the words somewhat choked. His voice sounded almost strangled, and she didn’t need to look to know that there were tears running down his face.

Colette looked up at him then, taking in with a mixture of affection and amusement how utterly awestruck he looked. He was crying openly, tears running unashamedly down his cheeks.

“We did it,” she told Max.

“We did,” He said, his voice still choked with emotion. “She’s so beautiful.” Max sounded utterly wrecked.

Colette couldn’t help but share his feelings as she looked back down at the baby in her arms. The small infant had opened her eyes for a brief moment, revealing the most vividly blue eyes that Colette had ever seen. “She got your eyes.”

“And your hair,” Max said, reaching out a hesitant hand to touch the soft dark locks on the baby’s head.

The baby gave a little gurgle, waving her tiny hand as if to reach out for his fingers. “Hello, mooi meisje,” he said softly, his voice still sounding a little choked, as the baby tried to wrap her fingers around his own.

"She's absolutely perfect," Colette whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the tiny, perfect bundle of joy in her arms.

"Just like her mother," Max said, his voice hoarse. He stroked his finger down the baby's soft cheek, the most gentle of touches.

***

In the end…he made it with minutes to spare.

He couldn’t describe the relief that he felt when he finally burst through the door, to find Colette in the midst of giving birth. He had been so terrified that he wouldn’t make it in time.

And now here he was, sitting beside her on the bed, their daughter in her arms, safe and sound and utterly, utterly perfect.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of them both. Colette was beautiful, despite looking utterly exhausted. Her face was pale and slick with sweat, but she had never look more lovely.

And their daughter… Their daughter was perfect. Tiny, and new, the sweetest thing that Max had ever seen. He gently ran his finger down her soft, plump cheek, marveling at the sheer fragility of her.

And he couldn't stop crying. This was his family. His.

They had hoped so desperately for so long, and now there was their little girl. And she had been worth it. Worth all the heartbreak.

His eyes stung and his throat was constricting, but he couldn't help it. He knew he must look a mess, tears running unashamedly down his face and throat choked up, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered. They were here, and safe, and together.

He looked down at the baby’s tiny, perfect face, her closed eyes, her nose. She had Colette’s hair, and his eyes, and Max thought that if it was possible to die of love, he was dangerously close to that moment right there.

He reached out a shaking hand to touch his daughter’s tiny fist, his own hand dwarfing hers. She opened her eyes again for a brief second, and he could have sworn that she smiled at him for just an instant.

The tears ran more freely down his face now at that thought. His daughter, his little girl, his precious perfect baby, smiled at him. It might have just been a trick of his own overjoyed emotional state, but right then, Max was convinced that it had been a real smile.

"She's perfect, liefje," he whispered, his words coming out a little choked. "She's so damn perfect.”

"Dad, you want to cut the cord?" the doctor asked him.

The question seemed to take a moment to register in his hazy emotional state, but when it did, Max’s breath caught in his chest for a moment. And then just as quickly, he nodded mutely.

In a daze, he reached for the small pair of scissors that the midwife handed over to him, cutting the umbilical cord under her careful supervision.

He was in a daze, even when they took his daughter from Colette to check her over and bath her. "Stay with her," Colette told him softly. "Go on."

Max nodded, unable to find the words to answer to her. He stood up on slightly shaky legs, watching as the midwife took his daughter over to the small bassinet and started to check her over.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of his baby, tiny and perfect and theirs. All the years of trying, all the hope and the heartbreaks, and now there was their little girl, safe and sound.

He got to watch her be bathed and then swaddled right into a soft pink swaddle that he knew he himself had bought because Colette kept insisting that it was a boy...and then he finally got to hold her in his arms and cry some more, because she was perfect.

He cradled her small, tiny form in his arms, his fingers trembling a little as he gently touched the soft downy skin of her cheek. Her weight was barely anything at all in his arms, and for a moment, terror gripped his heart. Was he holding her too hard? What if he hurt her?

"You aren't going to hurt her," Victoria said suddenly and he stared at his sister that sat down next to her. "You aren't. I promise you. Babies aren't as breakable as they look," she teased him softly. "Congrats, Maxie."

Max nodded, a little startled. He had honestly forgotten that his sister was even there, the arrival of his baby girl had taken up most of his attention.

"Thanks, Vic," he managed, his voice still choked. 

He looked down at the baby in his arms again. They had wrapped her tightly in the pink swaddle that he himself had insisted on months ago. He had been so sure that the baby was a girl. And he had been right.

He wouldn't have cared either way, but...he had been right.

"She's perfect," he whispered, his eyes burning.

Victoria smiled, watching him with a softness in her eyes that Max wasn't sure he had seen before. “You’re a father,” she said simply. “How does it feel?”

“Like my heart’s going to explode with pure happiness,” Max admitted, looking back down at his daughter in his arms. “Like I can’t breathe. Like I’m dreaming. I don’t…I don’t know how to describe it.”

"Welcome to the sleep deprivation community that is parenthood," Vic joked softly. "You are going to be the best father," she told him.

It made him choke up. That absolute certainty with which his little sister said that, a hand on his shoulder. "You are going to be the best father to her," Victoria promised him fiercely.

Fresh tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at his sister. “I’ll do my best,” he managed to say, his voice a little choked. “I’ll do absolutely anything for her, for both of them. Anything in the world.”

They didn't often talk about their childhood...about all the things that had gone down...the long drawn out screaming matches they could remember before their parents had divorced and the separation that came afterwards...

They didn’t like to talk about it. It was one of those things that they usually just skirted around, because when they brought it up, old feelings and emotions came up with it. And the fights weren’t pleasant to remember...

But in that moment, Max felt a profound sense of relief. For the first time, he was glad those fights had happened, because if they hadn’t…he and Vic wouldn’t have the relationship they had now, and he wouldn’t have learned, from all of the pain and heartbreak of those fights, what not to do. He never wanted his daughter to grow up like that. He never wanted her to feel the pain of a broken family like they had.

And he knew that he would do absolutely everything in his power to prevent that from happening. He and Colette would keep their family tightly together and protect and love their little girl with everything that they had.

No matter what.

A fresh wave of tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of that. "I don't ever want her to grow up like we did, Vic," he managed to say, the words still a little choked. "I don't ever want her to feel like we did."

"She won't," Vic assured him, her voice still soft. "Because you're going to be a great father. She'll grow up feeling loved and wanted and safe. I know that, Maxie."

His throat felt as if it was slowly closing up. "Thanks, bink," he managed to say, his voice cracking. "It means a lot. I..." His eyes stung, and he swallowed hard. "I couldn't ever thank you enough for being here. For being with us."

For coming even when he handn’t asked…for somehow knowing without being told what they needed.

His sister just smiled at him, her blue eyes, so similar to his own, sparkling. "She’s my niece," she reminded him. "You're not getting rid of me. I'm going to spoil her rotten, you know that?"

"You are going to have fierce competition, Victoria" Pascale said softly.

He looked up to where Colette's mother was tucking her own daughter back into the bed, fussing over her. Colette looked better than she had before, freshly showered, still exhausted, but no longer...no longer looking like she was going to faint any minute.

Colette was already sitting up, even though she would be in pain for a while, a testament to her usual stubbornness.

"Maxie." Colette didn't need to say more than that, as he stood and crossed the room, safely putting their daughter back on her mother's chest.

He sat on the edge of her bed, careful not to jostle her too much. "Hey," he said softly, wrapping an arm gently around her shoulders. "How are you feeling, liefje?"

"I'm okay," she said softly, resting her head weakly against him. "Sore. Tired. Happy. Went through 6 hours of labour, only to give birth to your and Charles' clone," she said drily, making her mother laugh.

Max smiled faintly, resting his head against hers. “Charles?” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"She does look awfully similiar," Pascale agreed.

Max gave a small laugh, glancing back down at the baby. He supposed there was a resemblance, if one knew what to look for. “She’s not a clone,” he countered, a note of mock offense in his voice. “She’s a perfect mix of us.”

"With what I am pretty certain is Charles' nose," Colette said drily.

Max laughed faintly, reaching out to gently touch the baby’s tiny nose with his finger. It narrowed just so at the tip… “Maybe,” he conceded thoughtfully. 

His daughter stirred faintly at the contact, a small noise coming from her mouth that sounded a bit like a grumble. Max smiled at the sound. 

“And I’m pretty sure she’s just as stubborn as her mother,” he teased Colette.

She reached up to lightly smack his hand, but her smile was fond. “Like you aren’t just as stubborn,” she retorted.

Their daughter took that moment to complain loudly for once and Colette shifted her slightly, unbuttoning her pyjama top.  At least one thing went down with absolutely no fuss whatsoever. A few minutes later, their daughter had greedily nursed, burped and was back to slumbering quietly. 

"Are the three musketeers still outside?" Colette asked.

“They are,” Max confirmed, brushing a strand of hair back from Colette’s face. He had all but forgotten about Colette’s brothers.

"Get them," Colette said softly.

Max smiled. "All of them?" he teased. He knew that was exactly what she had meant."All of them," she nodded.

[dollgxtz]

His Watchful Eye Pt. 4

Word Count: 11.9k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, noncon, dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, obedience training, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, stalking, pet names like kitten, sweetie, pretty, ownership, manipulation, attempted rape, xavier appears

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti, @m0onlustre, @ve1vet-cake @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglamela, @connorsui @iluvmewwwww75 , @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer @mysssticc @babygirl-panda19 @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1

AN: Bit of a late upload for you night owls and a nice surprise for my early risers! Someone tell me to stop making the chapters longer, thank you LOL. This chapter was a lot of fun to write and I hope you guys enjoy! This is on AO3 as usual! :D

"So… uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert. "Dog? What dog?" he said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question. "You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"

Read Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.5

Xavier drummed his fingers rhythmically on the glass counter, each tap growing more impatient as the seconds stretched on. His eyes darted around the cluttered store, scanning the shelves filled with everything from worn-out sneakers to high-end dress shoes. The store clerk had disappeared into the back room several minutes ago, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Xavier wasn't entirely sure what he was hoping to find here.

He had strolled in with nothing more than a photo of a shoe print—a faint clue at best—but it felt more productive than sitting idly by, doing nothing while the answers to your disappearance slipped further out of reach. At least this was action, however uncertain.

Was this even a tangible way to find you? Was he grasping at straws, wasting precious time on a hopeless lead?

And the most haunting question of all—were you even still alive?

Xavier squeezed his eyes shut, as if closing them tightly enough could block out the flood of dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn’t afford to let his mind go there, not now. Pushing the fear and uncertainty away, he tried to focus on the faint glimmer of hope that had brought him here in the first place. Anything was better than surrendering to despair.

"This is all I could find on it. It's certainly a unique pair," the shop clerk continued, offering a slight smile. "I'm not as technologically advanced as most shops around here, so sorry to disappoint. But, may I ask—why come to my little shop instead of one of those fancy places downtown?"

Xavier took the pamphlet, glancing over the information quickly before shifting his gaze back to the clerk. "Well," he began, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I heard you were the kind of guy who could identify a pair of shoes just by its print."

The clerk chuckled softly, his weathered face creasing with the effort. "You've been a great help, actually," Xavier added, sliding the pamphlet into his jacket pocket with a nod of appreciation.

The clerk gave an approving nod, the lines of his face softening in quiet satisfaction before he turned his back again, settling into the familiar rhythm of his work. Xavier headed toward the door, the faint creak of floorboards beneath his boots echoing through the small, dimly lit shop. His hand hovered over the door handle, but just as his fingers brushed the cool metal, a nagging thought rooted him in place. He paused, heart pounding slightly as the question formed in his mind.

He turned back, the weight of uncertainty pulling at his voice. "Say... you wouldn’t happen to know where this shoe was originally made, would you?"

The clerk stopped, mid-motion, his hands faltering over a pile of worn soles. The question seemed to hang in the air, drawing out a moment of silence as the man stared down, his brow furrowing. It was clear he hadn’t thought about it in some time. Xavier felt a flicker of hope, unsure if it would lead him anywhere, but desperately clinging to the possibility.

The clerk finally turned, his face thoughtful, his voice quieter now. "Yeah..." he said slowly, as if pulling the memory from a fog. "Last I saw of that shoe, it came from a company based in the... er, N1—no, wait..." His brow furrowed deeper as he worked to piece it together. "N109 Zone. Yeah, that’s the one."

His words hung in the air, carrying a weight Xavier couldn’t ignore. The clerk’s tone wasn’t just casual recollection—it was tinged with something more, like the memory of that particular shoe stirred something deeper. Xavier felt the knot of tension in his chest tighten.

Xavier felt his breath catch in his throat. N109 Zone. The name alone sent a chill down his spine. He had heard plenty about that place—mostly rumors, but enough to know that it was a dangerous, lawless sector. Few dared to go there unless they had no other choice, and even fewer came back with stories worth telling. It was a no-man’s-land, a forgotten corner of land where control was lost long ago. The kind of place where people disappeared without a trace.

His mind raced, piecing it together. If the shoe had come from there... Did that mean you were there too? His stomach churned at the thought. The faint hope he had clung to started to blur with the creeping dread of what fate could have fallen upon you in the N109 Zone.

"You’re sure about that?" he asked, his voice betraying the slight anxiety creeping in around the edges. The clerk glanced up from his work, noticing the shift in Xavier’s tone.

"Yeah," the clerk said, more firmly this time. "I’m sure. That shoe—rare brand—hard to forget. The company folded years ago, but they used to operate out of the N109 Zone. Only place I’ve ever seen them sold."

Xavier swallowed hard, the words sinking deep. If the shoe came from N109, it could be a clue—a dangerous one, but still the only lead he had. He felt the urgency building inside him, a gnawing sense that time was running out, but also the undeniable question of what he might find if he went there.

Could you really be in a place like that? His mind struggled to fill in the gaps, but there were too many unknowns. Were you okay?

"I...appreciate your help," Xavier muttered, his voice thick with tension. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to steady his breathing.

"You're not actually thinking of going there, are you?" the store clerk asked, his voice edged with disbelief as he raised an eyebrow. He leaned slightly forward over the counter, studying Xavier with a mixture of concern and amusement. "No offense, but a pretty fella like you doesn’t exactly look like the type who could survive in a place like that. Not really worth the hassle for a pair of shoes don't you think?"

Xavier paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn’t turn around immediately, letting the weight of the clerk’s words linger for a moment. Finally, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression calm, almost casual. "I'll be fine," he said, his voice steady, though the tension in his body remained. "I've dealt with much worse."

The clerk blinked, surprised by Xavier's calm demeanor, but said nothing more.

Xavier turned to face the door once again, his hand resting on the handle as he prepared to step out into the cold streets. "Thanks again," he added, his tone carrying a finality that didn’t invite more questions.

Without waiting for a response, he pushed open the door and walked out, leaving the shop behind. His heart pounded a little harder now, not just from the looming threat of the N109 Zone, but from the resolve building inside him. There was no turning back now.

He had a tangible clue—a real, solid lead to your whereabouts. For the first time in weeks, the haze of uncertainty lifted ever so slightly. But now that he knew you were possibly in one of the most dangerous areas anyone could imagine, time was no longer on his side. Every second that ticked by felt heavier, pulling him deeper into the urgency of the situation. The N109 Zone wasn’t just dangerous; it was a place where people vanished, a place where hope died. He had no time to waste, but rushing in blindly would be suicide. He needed a plan.

Stepping into the cold evening air, Xavier pulled the pamphlet from his jacket pocket, its crinkled edges soft from being handled. His eyes scanned over the contents carefully. Make and model—simple enough, not much help now. A detailed diagram of the shoe—useful for recognition, maybe, but not a lifeline. Then his eyes caught something else—a faint address printed near the top. It was partially worn, barely legible, but there.

His heart skipped a beat. An address? Could this be where the shoe was made? Or where it was sold? Either way, it was another piece of the puzzle, and right now, it was the closest thing to a breadcrumb trail he had. He squinted at the faded letters, trying to make out every detail.

If this address was in the N109 Zone, it could lead him right into the heart of the danger. But it could also lead him to you.

His mind raced. First, he needed to confirm the location. Then he needed a plan—something better than just walking straight into the N109 Zone and hoping for the best.

Pulling out his hunter’s watch, Xavier quickly scanned the address printed on the pamphlet. The small device whirred to life, its holographic screen flickering as it worked to process the faint, worn-out text. A soft ding echoed in the quiet street as it started searching for the location. Xavier watched the screen intently, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

The map on the watch blinked, the dot moving erratically across an unmarked, shadowy area. It drifted back and forth, as though even the advanced technology in his hands was confused, struggling to pin down an exact location. Xavier frowned, watching the dot jitter across the screen. His stomach tightened with frustration. Was the address too old? Was it leading him nowhere?

Just when he thought the device might give up entirely, the dot paused. The holographic screen flickered once more, and with a soft chime, it glowed green in confirmation. The hunter's watch had finally locked on to a spot. Xavier stared at it, a sinking feeling settling in his gut. The place it had marked was deep within N109 Zone, tucked away in the heart of the most dangerous, uncharted part of the city.

He exhaled slowly, his mind running through a million possibilities. The watch’s confirmation meant something tangible, something real—but what waited for him there? He couldn’t shake the thought that this could be a trap, a place where the trail might lead to nothing, or worse, to more danger than he could anticipate. But it was also the only clue he had to your whereabouts.

Xavier closed his hand around the watch, feeling its faint warmth through his fingers. He knew what he had to do, but the enormity of it settled on his shoulders. This wasn’t just a simple lead anymore—it was a beacon, calling him into the depths of the N109 Zone. And whatever waited for him there, he would face it.

Because finding you was all that mattered.

As Xavier made his way through the still, empty streets back to his apartment, the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon, casting a faint, orange glow across the sky. His mind was already racing, formulating a plan. Gear, weapons,—he’d need everything ready before venturing into the N109 Zone.

But just as he turned the corner, his phone rang, the sharp sound cutting through the early morning quiet. Xavier stopped, his brow furrowing as he fished the phone out of his pocket. It was a jarring sound—no one should be calling him at this early hour.

He glanced at the screen, squinting in confusion. The number was unknown, unfamiliar. His immediate thought was Captain Jenna—she was the only one who’d be up this early, possibly reaching out with new intel—but this wasn’t her number.

He hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Unknown number. His instincts screamed caution. In his line of work, random calls at odd hours rarely led to anything good. The number could belong to anyone—a lead, a warning, or worse, a trap.

But then again, it could be something important—something connected to you. He couldn't ignore the possibility.

Should he answer? The phone rang again, and with each buzz, the knot of uncertainty in his stomach tightened. Whoever it was, they wanted to reach him badly enough to call at this ungodly hour.

With a deep breath, Xavier made a decision and swiped to answer the call. "Hello?" His voice was guarded, careful.

For a moment, all Xavier could hear was silence, a thick void that made his pulse quicken. Then, suddenly, the sound of crackling static filled his ears, distorting the line. He frowned, his grip tightening on the phone. The static grew louder, chaotic, until it was abruptly interrupted by a voice—scared, desperate, and unmistakably familiar.

"Xavier? Is that you??"

His heart nearly stopped.

You kept running until your legs gave out, your breath ragged and chest burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not yet. An hour ago, you had been trapped, bound in your captor's suffocating bedroom, that thick invisible leash tightening around your neck with each passing day, stealing your hope, your strength. Every second felt like eternity in that room, but somehow, with some luck of a power outage of all things, you’d broken out of your cage. You’d ran—bolted into the cold night without looking back.

And now, you were almost free.

But “freedom” wasn’t what you had imagined. The streets stretched out before you, bleak and lifeless. It felt wrong. There was no joy in the air, no welcoming breeze to assure you of safety—only the gnawing sense that you had escaped one cage just to enter another. You recalled something Sylus, your captor, had mentioned in passing.

"Its always 'night' here", he'd said with a small smile, and now you truly realized he hadn’t been lying.

Darkness swallowed the entire area, a thick, unnatural veil over everything. Even though your eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, the eerie, half-flickering streetlights cast only dim pools of sickly yellow across the cracked pavement. The shadows loomed, stretching too far, hiding too much. You shivered, not just from the cold but from the haunting silence that wrapped around you.

The air itself felt thick, as if it was suffocating under the weight of secrets too dark, too dangerous to be spoken aloud. Each alley you passed felt like it was watching you, whispering silent threats from the shadows. Exhaustion clung to your limbs, and you had finally stopped, collapsing onto a broken bench under one of the few flickering streetlights that still worked. The cold metal dug into your skin, but you barely noticed. You were too busy trying to catch your breath, to steady your thoughts.

Where do you go now? You scanned your surroundings again, looking for anything that could offer direction, but the streets were as desolate as before. The same cracked pavement, the same looming shadows. No signs. No people. Just an eerie quiet.

A fleeting thought entered your mind—maybe there’s a train station nearby? The idea seemed almost laughable. Would it even take you to Linkon? And would you even make it to a station without getting caught?

You shook your head, mentally cursing yourself for the thought. Hitchhiking was another idea that crossed your mind—no way, you scolded yourself, brushing off the notion as quickly as it came. You probably couldn't trust anyone here. Not in a place like this. Here, trusting a stranger was as reckless as running blind into the dark.

But what other choice did you have? You couldn’t stay still for long; resting too much would make you an easy target. With a deep, shuddering breath, you forced yourself to stand again. Your legs trembled beneath you, but you kept moving, hoping—praying—you’d find someone who wasn’t out to harm you. Something that could help guide you out of this nightmare. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of fear pressing harder on your chest.

As your bare feet dragged across the cracked concrete, the desperation gnawed at you more fiercely. You were lost—physically and mentally. Each street looked the same, the darkness playing tricks on your eyes. Panic swelled in your throat. How long could you keep going like this? How much longer could you walk before your legs gave out? Before someone found you?

Your breaths came quicker, shallow with fear. You needed a way out, but the deeper you walked into the N109 Zone, the more it felt like the place was swallowing you whole. You were running out of time. Running out of hope.

And then finally, as if the cruel universe had decided to grant you another fleeting moment of mercy, you saw it—a faint glow of lights in the distance. Squinting, you could just make out a corner store, its soft, artificial light spilling onto the cracked sidewalk. A few people were loitering outside, giving the place a rare sense of life. A tired-looking woman clutched her child's hand tightly, and a man stood by, lazily smoking a cigar, his eyes scanning the street in disinterest. A couple of others hovered nearby, exchanging quiet words under the dim streetlight.

You couldn't believe your eyes. A store? Here? In the N109 Zone? It seemed almost surreal, like it had been plucked from another world and dropped into this forgotten wasteland. But it made sense in a grim way. Even in a place like this, people have to eat. Make a living.

With a rush of desperate energy, you hurried toward the store, your bare feet slapping against the cold pavement. The people outside cast looks in your direction, but don't say anything. You stopped just short of the entrance, glancing down at yourself for the first time. You must look insane. A nightgown hung loosely around your body, dirty and torn at the edges. No shoes. No socks. Your hair was tangled and wild from the running. The sight of yourself made you wince in embarrassment, but there was no time to care about that now.

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by a dimly lit but surprisingly ordinary scene. The inside of the corner store looked like any other—aisles of candy, snacks, cheap knick knacks and toys stacked high. It was a stark contrast to the dangerous, shadowy streets just outside. But one sight caught your attention above all: the food.

Your stomach growled loudly, twisting with hunger. You hadn’t eaten since the chicken dinner Sylus had provided before your “outburst.” You hadn't been able to finish it, and now the exhaustion from running had made the hunger almost unbearable. Your mouth watered at the thought of eating, but there was one major problem—you had no gold.

Your heart sank as you stared at the rows of candy bars and instant noodles. How were you going to get anything?

Anxiously, you shuffled toward the front counter, your nerves jangling with every step. When you reached it, you hesitated for a moment, staring at the small bell. With trembling fingers, you tapped it.

A disheveled-looking man, his hair sticking out in uneven tufts, glanced up from behind the counter. He had been glued to his phone, and the interruption clearly annoyed him. His eyes landed on you, and for a brief second, he just stared, taking in your disarrayed appearance before rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Can I...help you?" he asked, dragging out the words as if the very act of speaking was a burden.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but your mind raced with too many conflicting emotions—fear, embarrassment, hunger. What could you even say?

"I've been kidnapped," you blurt out, your voice shaky and desperate. You opened your mouth to explain further, to tell him everything—how you had escaped, how you were on the run, how you needed help—but before you could get another word out, the man snorted.

"Yeah, I've heard that one before," he said dismissively, leaning back on his chair with an exaggerated sigh. "Who hasn't been kidnapped at least once around here?"

His casual tone hit you like a slap. The raw urgency in your voice was met with nothing but apathy. Your heart sank. He wasn’t going to take you seriously. You were just another story in a place like this, another desperate face with nowhere to go. You stood there, frozen, trying to comprehend how someone could be so indifferent to your situation.

You swallowed hard, fighting back the frustration welling up inside you. "Please, I'm serious. I just need—"

"Look," the man interrupted, cutting you off again, his eyes barely lifting from his phone. "You want something, buy it. Otherwise, move along. I’m not here for charity cases."

You glanced at the counter, the rows of candy, snacks, and drinks just inches away, knowing you had nothing to pay with. Desperation clawed at your insides. You were exhausted, starving, and running out of options.

"I don't have any gold... do you ha-have a phone?" you asked again, your voice trembling as you blinked back the hot tears threatening to spill. How could someone be so indifferent to the obvious suffering staring him in the face?

"Broken," he said flatly, still not bothering to look up from his phone. His disinterest was like a physical blow. "And… gold? What are you, some Linkcunt citizen?"

The venom in his words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Linkcunt citizen? The insult was harsh, dripping with disdain, and it sent a sudden wave of anger rushing through you.

"Yes, I’m from Linkon," you correct, the frustration and fear bubbling over into your voice. "What’s with the attitude? What did I do to you? I'm asking for help!"

He finally looked up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t friendly. It was mocking.

"What did you do? Nothing. That’s the problem. Linkon folk come down here thinking they’re better than everyone, tossing around their fancy gold and expecting the world to hand them everything." He shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and contempt.

"You want help? Then you’d better figure out how things work around here real fast, princess. No one's gonna hand you anything for free."

You felt your fists clench at his words, the anger mixing with a deeper sense of helplessness. You hadn’t asked to be here. You hadn’t asked for any of this. And yet, standing in this grimy corner store in the depths of the N109 Zone, it was clear that no one cared about your suffering. Not here. You weren’t in Linkon anymore.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to calm down, swallowing the anger rising in your throat. Getting into a fight with this clerk wouldn’t help you, not now. But the bitterness of his words lingered, and you realized just how alone you truly were in this place.

Silently, you turned your back to the greasy man behind the counter, his words still echoing in your mind as you began to walk up and down the aisles. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of hunger, thirst, and sheer exhaustion pulling at you. Your stomach growled, gnawing at your insides, reminding you just how long it had been since you'd eaten.

But something else gnawed at you too—something that made your skin crawl with discomfort. You hadn't changed your pad for hours, and now the sticky, damp feeling clung uncomfortably between your legs. The sudden realization hit you, a wave of disgust washing over you as you winced.

Swallowing hard, you glanced over toward the feminine hygiene aisle. Rows of necessities lined the shelves—pads, tampons, basic supplies—just out of reach. You stared at them, your stomach twisting in knots. It wasn't just food you needed now. You couldn’t go on like this.

But you had no credit cards. No way to purchase anything. Nothing.

Your eyes flicked back toward the front of the store, where the disinterested clerk sat, still engrossed in his phone. He wasn’t paying attention to you. He didn’t care. Nobody here did.

You felt a knot tighten in your throat as the harsh reality of the situation settled in. You had to steal. There was no other choice. You hated the thought of it—hated how low it made you feel—but survival wasn’t a matter of pride. Not here. Not now.

Your fingers trembled as you looked back at the shelves. You knew what you had to do.

The clerk still wasn’t paying attention, his face lit by the glow of his phone. His indifference might be your only saving grace. You could do this—quickly, quietly, and then you’d be gone.

With shaky hands you reach for a plastic bag that had fallen on the ground. The bag felt like a shield, something to hide the weight of what you were about to do. You didn’t think twice as you moved toward the feminine hygiene aisle, knowing you couldn’t walk any further in your current state. You reached for a pack of pads, your movements slow and deliberate. Your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that it felt like the entire store could hear it.

Next, you hurried down the snack aisle, grabbing a few protein bars, a small bag of chips, and a bottle of water, all of which disappeared into the bag as your pulse raced in your ears.

You glanced toward the counter, your body tense with anxiety. The clerk still hadn’t looked up, completely absorbed in his phone. The faint, unmistakable sound of pornography drifted from his speakers, making your stomach churn in disgust. You twisted your face, feeling a wave of revulsion wash over you, but you couldn’t afford to stop now.

He was utterly oblivious to your frantic movements, his attention locked on the screen, but that didn't ease the gnawing sensation in your gut. Every step felt like you were tiptoeing across a minefield, a ticking clock counting down to disaster. Even though he wasn’t watching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—was.

With the bag now heavy in your hands, you made your way toward the exit, each step carefully measured, your breath shallow as you fought to keep calm. The distance between you and the door seemed endless, as if every inch stretched into miles. But finally, your trembling hand closed around the cold metal of the handle.

Your heart raced as you crossed the threshold, bracing yourself for the inevitable—a shrill, deafening alarm that would shatter the silence and expose your crime to the world. You waited for it, your breath caught in your throat, ready to bolt at the first sound.

But nothing came.

No alarm. No piercing siren. The only thing you could hear was the frantic beating of your own heart as the door swung shut behind you with a quiet click.

For a moment, you stood there, frozen in place, not daring to move. The cool night air brushed against your skin, grounding you in the eerie quiet. The world outside the store felt impossibly still. It took a few seconds for your brain to register that you had made it out—unseen, unheard.

You swallowed hard, keeping your head down as you hurried past the few patrons lingering near the store. Their eyes followed your every step, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you, judging, curious. Did they happen to care, or did you just look that insane?

The woman with the child pulled her daughter closer as you passed, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. The man smoking his cigar gave you a long, leering stare, as if trying to figure out what your story was. The others whispered quietly among themselves, but you couldn’t make out the words, nor did you want to. You kept walking, willing yourself to be invisible, but the tension in the air made your skin prickle.

Once you were a safe distance away from the store, you ducked down an empty alley, the shadows wrapping around you like a cloak. The world outside was still bleak, the flickering streetlights casting only the faintest glow, but here in the quiet, you finally had a moment to breathe.

You found a relatively clean spot, tucked behind an old dumpster, and set the bag down beside you. Your hands shook as you reached into the bag for the pack of pads. The discomfort and itch between your legs had grown unbearable, and the relief of changing, even in such a grim place, was something you couldn't put off any longer.

Quickly, you adjusted yourself, wincing at the feeling of the old pad peeling away. You worked fast, knowing you couldn’t linger here for long. Once you were done, you felt a small sense of relief—at least one problem had been solved.

Next, you pulled out the snacks. The hunger was still clawing at you, and the sight of the protein bars and chips made your stomach ache even more. Tearing into a protein bar, you ate quickly, barely tasting the food as you devoured it, desperate to fuel your exhausted body. The bottle of water came next, and you drank it down in large, gulping swallows.

For the first time since you had escaped, you felt a flicker of calm. It wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t last, but here in this dark corner, with food in your stomach and a small bit of comfort, you allowed yourself a brief moment to breathe.

But the quiet didn’t last. You knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. You had to get moving at some point or Sylus would find you. This place was unforgiving, and survival demanded more than just temporary refuge.

Tucking the remaining items back into the bag, you sigh in satisfaction, glancing around to make sure no one had followed you. The streets were still empty. For now, you were alone. You had survived one more step in this nightmare, but you knew it wasn’t over yet.

Some time passes and you can slowly feel yourself falling asleep against the dumpster.

As you crouched in the dim alley, trying to fight off exhaustion and gather your thoughts, the sound of footsteps broke the silence. Slow, steady, and casual, accompanied by a faint, off-key whistling. You stiffened, instinctively pulling the bag closer to your chest.

The footsteps stopped just a few feet away, and then came the voice—low, cautious, but curious.

"Hey, you okay?"

You glanced up warily, your eyes landing on the figure standing at the mouth of the alley. He was tall, maybe in his mid-thirties, with shaggy, unkempt brown hair that fell just above his eyes. His clothes were worn—faded jeans and a jacket that had seen better days—but he didn’t look like the rough types you usually imagined when you thought of the N109 Zone. His posture was relaxed, hands tucked casually into his pockets, but his sharp, dark eyes were fixed on you, a flicker of concern—or maybe something else—dancing behind them.

His face was hard to read. He had a slight stubble covering his jaw, giving him a rugged, almost tired appearance. His lips quirked in what might’ve been a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at you—like he was curious, but also sizing you up. Not in an aggressive way, but in a way that made you wonder why he’d stopped to talk to you at all.

"Are you... lost?" he asked, stepping forward slowly, the whistling tune dying in the air. His voice was softer now, almost as if he was trying to be gentle, but his presence made the space around you feel even smaller.

"What happened to your arm?"

You swallowed hard, trying your best to keep your gaze on him. You had honestly completely forgotten about the scar on you arm. As much as you wanted to explain, every instinct screamed to stay wary. This wasn’t a place where strangers helped out of kindness, and you knew better than to trust easily. But as exhausted and desperate as you were, you weren’t sure if you could afford to push away help, even from someone who might have their own agenda.

"I—I need help," you stammered, your voice shaky, barely managing to push the words past your tightening throat. Your body trembled, a mix of nerves and exhaustion leaving you on edge. You hugged the bag tighter to your chest, every muscle in your body tense. "But... don't come any closer just yet."

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression shifting, though he made no move forward. He stayed where he was, his hands still in his pockets, the dim streetlight casting long shadows on his face. For a moment, there was silence, the air thick with tension as he watched you.

"Okay," he said finally, his voice calm and even, though the curiosity in his eyes never wavered. He tilted his head, taking in your ragged appearance with a deeper interest. "No problem. I’m not here to scare you. Just trying to figure out what you're doing out here all alone."

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. You needed help, but trust was a dangerous thing in a place like this. Still, you were running out of options. Your mind raced as you tried to decide what to say next.

You hesitated, your mind racing as you weighed the risks. Could you trust him? Telling the truth might make you vulnerable, but lying wouldn’t get you far either. You had to say something—anything—to explain why you were here.

"I was kidnapped," you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Your voice wavered, a tremor of fear running through you as you spoke. "I escaped… I don’t know where I am. I just need to get somewhere safe and rest so I can get home later."

The man’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He studied you, eyes narrowing as if trying to assess whether or not you were telling the truth. His silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, making your heart pound faster in your chest.

"You’re serious?" he finally asked, his tone more subdued now, almost disbelieving but not dismissive. He took a small step back, showing that he wasn’t going to invade your space. "You really got away from someone?"

You nodded, the tension in your body still coiled tight, waiting for his reaction. You couldn't tell if he believed you, but you hoped—desperately—that he wouldn’t press too hard or turn you away.

The man stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning your face, as if trying to read the truth in your expression. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his posture softening just slightly.

"Alright," he said, his voice low but firm. "If you're telling the truth... then you’ve got bigger problems than just being lost."

He glanced around, checking the street behind him as if making sure no one else was nearby, then he looked back at you, his face more serious now. "You can’t stay out here. This place— the N109 Zone—it’s not somewhere you want to be wandering around alone, especially if someone’s looking for you."

You felt a shiver run down your spine. You already knew the N109 Zone was dangerous, but hearing it from him made it feel even more real.

"Look," he continued, his voice softening. "I’m not gonna hurt you. If you need help, I can take you somewhere safer. But you’ve gotta trust me, and you’ve gotta move quick. If they’re after you, it’s only a matter of time before they find you out here."

He waited, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to see if you’d accept his offer—or run.

You hesitated for a long moment, scanning the man’s face for any sign of deceit. His expression was calm, almost unnervingly so, but something about his demeanor made you feel that, for now, you didn’t have much of a choice. If he meant harm, he could’ve acted already. Swallowing hard, you nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I’ll come with you.”

He nodded in return, offering nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgment before turning and motioning for you to follow. "My place isn’t far. You can rest there, maybe clean up a bit. It’ll give you a few hours before you have to figure out what’s next."

You fell in step behind him, your bare feet quiet against the cracked pavement. The streets were eerily silent, save for the occasional distant hum of passing cars. You hugged the bag closer to your chest, still tense but too tired to think about running. As you walked through the dim streets, a question lingered in the back of your mind.

"I'm surprised you stopped to help me," you finally said, your voice tentative. "Most people here…they wouldn’t have even looked twice."

He glanced back at you, barely breaking stride, and shrugged. "I’ve seen worse things in this place. Trust me, a girl lost in an alley isn't the strangest thing I’ve come across." His tone was casual, almost detached, as if this was just another day in the chaotic world of the N109 Zone.

His nonchalance unnerved you. Why was he so calm? Your anxiety spiked for a moment, thoughts racing. Maybe you had made the wrong choice. Maybe he had his own agenda, like everyone else in this place. But then again, he hadn’t tried to harm you. If he wanted to, he would've done so. You weighed your options, feeling the tug of paranoia, but exhaustion and desperation had their hold. You pushed the doubt aside. For now, you decided to trust him, even if only for a few hours.

As you walked in silence, the two of you eventually came across something you hadn’t expected to see: an old, grimy phone booth, its glass cracked but still intact, standing at the edge of a corner. A relic from another time, long since forgotten by most.

Your heart skipped a beat. A phone. You might be able to call Xavier.

"Do you have any… uh, quarters?" you asked, your voice tight with desperation. You hadn’t thought about it before, but now it seemed obvious. Linkon City had long left behind the need for such old currency—everything there was digital, clean, modern. But here, in the N109 Zone, where everything felt stuck in time, of course they still used quarters. It made sense in this broken-down world.

He stopped, watching you for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, hang on." He fumbled in his pockets for a few seconds, fishing around with a slight look of annoyance. After a bit of clattering, he pulled out a few quarters, handing them over to you without a word.

Your hands trembled as you took them. This could be your chance—your lifeline. You stepped inside the booth, hoping that the old machine would still work, and stared at the dirty receiver.

You stared at the old rotary dial for a moment, panic rising in your chest. You tried to remember how it worked as you slipped the coins in the slot. It had been so long since you’d read about one of these—everything in Linkon was sleek, touch-based, connected by the web. But here, in this forgotten part of the world, you were holding a piece of the past. The process felt foreign, archaic.

Your mind raced, desperately trying to recall Xavier’s number. What was it? You racked your brain, images of his scribbled phone number from messages, fragments of conversations, all blurred together. The numbers danced in your head as you tried to piece them together.

Your heart pounded louder, matching the beat of the seconds slipping away. You were running out of time. With a trembling hand, you began dialing the numbers, trying to focus on every movement, praying you’d gotten it right.

The dial clicked as it spun back after each number, the mechanical sound unnervingly slow. The receiver crackled in your ear as the phone began to ring.

Please, Xavier... please pick up.

The ringing felt endless, each second a heavier weight pressing on your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping the receiver tight. The noise around you seemed to fade into the background as you waited, hoping, praying that on the other end of the line, he’d be there—ready to hear you, ready to help.

The phone rang again... and again.

Your breath caught in your throat, a prayer hanging on the edge of each ring.

"Hello?" A timid, cautious male voice came through the receiver, muffled by the crackling static, but it was unmistakable.

Relief crashed over you like a wave, and you nearly collapsed right there in the grimy phone booth, your knees buckling as the sound of Xavier's voice reached your ears. After everything—you finally had a connection to him. Tears welled up in your eyes, your breath shaky as you clutched the receiver tighter.

"Xavier!! Xavier, thank god!" you cried, your voice raw with desperation. "I don't even know where to start..."

But after your outburst, only silence greeted you. The line crackled, sputtering with age, the static drowning out whatever response might have come. Frustration surged through you as you gripped the receiver, shaking it in a vain attempt to clear the line. You banged the phone against the booth, biting back a sob as the interference persisted. This thing must be older than you thought. How could it fail you now?

Finally, the crackling stopped, leaving only a tense, quiet hum on the other end.

"Xavier? Is that you??" you asked, your voice trembling, barely holding back the panic. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing this fragile connection—this one thin lifeline.

The line crackled for a moment before Xavier’s voice came through, steady and calm, but with a layer of unmistakable relief.

"It’s you…," Xavier said, his voice soft but firm, as if he’d been holding onto hope for so long that hearing your voice felt like a lifeline. "I’m so glad you’re alive. Are you okay? Where are you?"

The sound of his voice sent another wave of emotion crashing over you. You sob, your body trembling with a mix of exhaustion and relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t alone. He had been looking for you, and now, he was coming.

"Xavier…I was kidnapped," you sobbed, the words finally breaking free, the fear and terror of the last few days pouring out. "I escaped. I’m cold, hurt and scared..."

His response was immediate, his tone both calming and steady, as if he was trying to comfort you even from miles away. "I’m here now. I’ve got you. Just breathe, okay? I’m coming for you. I just need a better idea of where you are."

You took a shaky breath, trying to keep it together, but the tears threatened to spill over. "I don’t know where exactly… all I know is I’m in the N109 Zone. I found a phone booth near a corner store. Everything around here looks abandoned."

There was a brief pause on the other end as Xavier processed the information. "Alright," he said firmly. "Stay there, I'll try and track the location of the phone booth. I’m on my way. Just… hold on a little longer, okay?"

"I—" you hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the man who had helped you. "I actually found a really nice man. He’s letting me rest at his place. He hasn’t hurt me at all, so don’t worry. He says his place isn’t far from here. I’ll come back to the phone and give you the details after I see it."

Xavier’s voice tightened slightly, the concern clear. "I don’t like the sound of that. Just… be careful. I’m coming as fast as I can. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, alright? If anything feels wrong, leave. Fight like hell if you need to."

"I will," you whispered, gripping the receiver tightly. "Just hurry, please."

"I promise I’m coming," Xavier said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He paused, just for a second, before continuing. "One more thing though—do you remember who took you? I’ll need a name, in case…in case I don't find you when I arrive. I don’t want to lose you again."

Your heart raced as memories of your captor flashed in your mind. "Yeah! His name is S—"

"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for an additional 3 minutes," the automated voice cut in sharply, drowning out your words.

Panic surged through you. The call had abruptly ended, the receiver in your hand now silent except for the monotonous prompt asking for more coins. You frantically searched your pockets, but you had no more quarters.

"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for—"

You screamed, the frustration boiling over as you kicked the phone, the clanging metal reverberating through the phone booth. Your hand gripped the receiver so tightly your knuckles lost circulation, and with a final surge of anger, you thrashed against the booth, the tears you’d been holding back now streaming down your face.

"Xavier!?" you yelled into the dead line, your voice cracking with desperation. He had to hear you. He had to. But all that came through was the cold, indifferent tone of the automated voice, endlessly repeating its demand for more quarters, as if mocking your panic.

You slammed the receiver down, the booth suddenly feeling too small, too suffocating. Every second that ticked by was a second lost, a moment Xavier might not know who had taken you, might not know how to find you.

With a deep, shaky breath, you stepped out of the booth, blinking away the tears.

"Do...you have any more quarters?" you ask, more tears threatening to spill from your face at any moment now.

The man outside the phone booth shifted awkwardly and shook his head, his eyes flickering between you and the dark street. He had watched you from the moment you’d rushed into the booth, but now, as you sobbed, his discomfort was clear. He took a slow step forward, clearing his throat, but didn’t say anything at first, unsure of what to do.

"You, uh... you okay?" he asked finally, his voice soft but uneasy. He scratched the back of his neck, glancing around as if he wasn’t used to being in such an emotional situation.

You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm your breathing, but the tears kept coming. The overwhelming frustration of losing the connection with Xavier left you feeling exposed and helpless. You didn’t know what to say to the man, couldn’t find the words to explain the weight of everything crashing down on you at once.

He hesitated, then sighed, taking another step closer. "Look, uh… if it’s about the call, I’m sure your guy’s coming. Sounds like he cares. You just... you know, gotta hang in there. We’ll get to my place soon, and you can rest."

His words, though clumsy, were an attempt at comfort. But even as he tried to reassure you, his uncertainty showed in the way he avoided your gaze, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle someone breaking down in front of him.

You sniffed, nodding slightly, feeling drained from the outburst. "Yeah… yeah, I’ll be fine," you muttered, wiping your face with the sleeve of your nightgown, though you weren’t sure you believed it.

The two of you resumed walking, your steps slow and heavy as you sniffled, trying to hold back the tears that still threatened to spill. The man walked beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets, glancing at you now and then with an awkwardness that was hard to miss. He wasn’t saying much, just occasionally looking around as if he wished there was something more he could do, but he seemed completely out of his depth when it came to comforting anyone, let alone a woman on the verge of breaking down.

"You’ll, uh, feel better once we get there," he mumbled, his voice low and sheepish. "It’s not much, but at least you can get some sleep. Maybe eat something."

You nodded, biting your lip as you fought to compose yourself, trying not to let your emotions overwhelm you again. The air between you felt thick, filled with unspoken words and awkward tension. He kept glancing at you as if he wanted to say something more, but each time, he swallowed the words, guiding you quietly through the darkened streets.

The city around you was eerily quiet, the desolation of the N109 Zone even more pronounced in the silence. The flickering streetlights barely illuminated your path, casting long shadows that stretched across the cracked pavement. You hugged your arms close to your body, your mind still reeling from the failed call, but you focused on just putting one foot in front of the other.

The man cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. "I’m… not really good at this kind of thing, you know," he admitted, his tone awkward, almost apologetic. "But you’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it."

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. His words were clumsy, but there was a strange sincerity in them. Despite his unease, it seemed like he really was trying to help, even if he didn’t quite know how to do it.

As the silence stretched on, the weight of everything hanging between you, you glanced at him through the dim light. His awkwardness, his uncertainty—it was all so clear. But despite everything, he had helped you. He had taken you in when you had nowhere else to go. Given you the last of his quarters. You swallowed, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

"I didn’t catch your name, by the way," you said softly, your voice still a little shaky.

He blinked, as if surprised you’d asked. His steps slowed for a moment before he gave a small, awkward shrug. "Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I didn’t say." He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the ground as he seemed to search for the right words. "It’s Reese," he finally muttered. "Not much of a name, but it’s mine."

You offered a small, tired smile, your voice soft. "Reese… thanks for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if—" You stopped yourself, the weight of your situation pressing on your chest again.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye and gave a sheepish nod. "Yeah, well… I’m no hero. Just didn’t seem right to leave you out there. Not in a place like this."

As the two of you walked in silence, Reese cleared his throat, glancing over at you with a bit more confidence than before. "So… what’s your name? Figured if we’re gonna be walking together, I should know who I’m helping."

You hesitated, your heart racing slightly. Trust wasn’t something you could afford so easily, not here, not now. Despite his awkward attempts to help, you weren’t ready to give him your real name. Better to be cautious, you reminded yourself. You forced a small smile, trying to keep your voice steady.

"It’s...Mephisto," you said, the lie rolling off your tongue before you could second-guess it. You had vaguely remembered Sylus calling out the name to someone from outside the door, to who you weren't sure. One of his men probably.

Reese nodded, seemingly taking your answer at face value, no suspicion in his expression. "Alright," he said, giving a half-smile. "Nice to meet you Miss Mephisto, despite the strange name."

You nodded back, feeling the weight of the lie settle inside you. It wasn’t much, but it gave you a small layer of protection—just in case. You still didn’t know Reese’s full intentions, and trust here could be a dangerous thing.

"Nice to meet you too, Reese," you replied softly, glancing around the darkened street.

After what felt like an eternity of walking through the dark, desolate streets of the N109 Zone, you and Reese finally reached his place. The house stood at the end of a narrow alley, tucked between two crumbling, abandoned buildings. It wasn’t much to look at—dingy, with peeling paint and windows that seemed to have long lost their clarity. The front door sagged slightly on its hinges, the wood scuffed and weathered, as if it had seen better days a long time ago.

Reese unlocked the door with a bit of effort, pushing it open with a low creak. Inside, the air was stale but warm, a stark contrast to the cold outside. The place was small, cluttered, and dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. The furnishings were old, mismatched, and worn—a threadbare couch sat in the corner, covered in a faded blanket. The walls were bare except for a few crooked picture frames, and the carpet looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Still, despite its grimy appearance, there was a strange sense of comfort to the place, like someone had lived here for a long time and had made it home in their own way.

"You can sit over there if you want," Reese said, motioning to the couch. "It’s not much, but it’s better than the streets."

You nodded, stepping inside cautiously. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details—the scuffed coffee table with a few empty bottles on it, the stack of old magazines piled up against one wall. It didn’t scream danger, but you couldn’t shake the wary feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Something about the whole situation made you uneasy. Maybe it was the dim lighting, the smell of old dust, or just the lingering doubt about trusting someone so easily in a place like this.

Still, exhaustion weighed heavily on your body, and the promise of rest—any rest—was too tempting to ignore. You sat down on the couch, the worn cushions sinking under you, and pulled the bag of pads closer to your chest. Reese seemed harmless enough, but you reminded yourself to stay on guard. You weren’t out of danger yet.

Reese busied himself, tossing a few items around to clear space, but the house remained eerily quiet.

As you settled into the couch, trying to make yourself as comfortable as possible, a sudden noise from the backyard broke the uneasy silence. It was faint, but distinct—a thud, followed by the faint sound of something shuffling or dragging. Your heart leapt, and you sat up a little straighter, your eyes darting toward the back of the house.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice tense as you turned to look at Reese.

He froze for a split second, the calm, awkward demeanor you’d come to expect from him faltering. His eyes widened slightly, and he gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, that?" he said, his voice higher than usual. "It’s just… my dog. Yeah, he’s in the shed out back. I forgot to mention him earlier."

You watched him closely, feeling the tension spike in the room. There was something off about the way he said it, the quickness in his tone as if he were scrambling to come up with an explanation.

"Your dog?" you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady, though doubt gnawed at the back of your mind.

"Yeah," he said, nodding a bit too enthusiastically. "He’s old, doesn’t like people much, so I keep him out there. No big deal."

His words didn’t do much to settle your nerves. You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing his response, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. The uneasy feeling from earlier returned, stronger this time, creeping up your spine.

"Right," you muttered, still watching him carefully, but you decided not to push further. Not yet.

"Um... coffee?" Reese blurted out suddenly, his voice still laced with that nervous edge. He offered a forced smile, clearly trying to redirect the tension hanging thick in the air. He rubbed his hands together, glancing toward the small, cluttered kitchen. "I could make us some. Might help, you know, after everything you’ve been through."

You hesitated, still on edge from the strange noise outside and his quick, jittery explanation. Something didn’t feel right, but you weren’t sure if pushing him now would help or only make things worse. You forced a smile of your own, your mind still racing with questions.

"Sure," you said quietly, your voice flat as you tried to calm your nerves. "Coffee sounds good."

Reese nodded, too eagerly, and moved toward the kitchen, fumbling with an old coffee pot. The clattering of cups and the rush of water filled the silence, but your mind was still focused on that noise outside. A dog in the shed? It seemed like a weak excuse, but you didn’t know him well enough to push it.

You leaned back into the couch, the worn fabric sinking beneath you as your eyes drifted toward the back door. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that maybe Reese wasn’t telling you everything. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. You were exhausted, but you couldn't let your guard down.

Reese finished brewing the coffee after a few moments, bringing it over to you in a green, cracked mug. You took it from him with a polite smile, setting it down on the coffee table untouched. The steam curled up from the cup, filling the small room with the faint scent of stale coffee. Reese sat across from you, sipping from his own mug, but you couldn’t help but notice how distracted he seemed.

He kept glancing toward the window, then back at his watch, over and over. Each time, his face tensed a little more, as though he were expecting something—or someone. Your wariness only grew.

What is he looking for?

The air felt thick with unspoken tension, and your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the noise in the backyard wasn’t as innocent as he’d made it sound.

"So…uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert.

"Dog? What dog?" Reese said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question.

"You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"

A few moments passed in uncomfortable silence, and then you saw it—realization hit him like a brick. His eyes widened as he turned to look at you, panic flickering across his face.

You sat up straighter, your heart starting to race. He’d lied. And now he knew you knew.

"Uh, I mean—" he stammered, his voice shaky, "I meant, uh, Rex. Yeah, his name’s Rex. Sorry, I’m just… distracted." He forced a weak smile, but the panic was still there, clear as day. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

You shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the room thickening with every second that passed after Reese's panicked slip. His eyes kept darting between you and the window, as if something outside demanded his attention. Your pulse quickened as the uneasy feeling deepened. Something wasn’t right, and you knew you had to get out of there.

"I should…go," you said, forcing a smile as you slowly stood up, trying to keep your voice casual. "Y'know... Xavier’s probably found the phone booth by now. I should go back and meet him."

Reese blinked, his expression tightening for a split second. The forced calm he'd been trying to maintain wavered as he set his mug down on the table a little too quickly, the clink of the ceramic against wood echoing in the silence. "Go? Already?" He scratched the back of his neck again, his voice strained. "I mean, it’s cold, and it’s not safe out there… Maybe you should wait a little longer."

You swallowed hard, feeling the anxiety rising in your chest. Every instinct told you to get out, but you had to keep your cool. "Thanks for the coffee and everything, but I don’t want Xavier to worry," you replied, taking a step toward the door. "I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse, remember?"

Reese stood up as well, his movements stiff, like he was trying to decide whether to stop you. His gaze flickered toward the window again, and his voice dropped. "Yeah, I get it. But, uh… maybe just a few more minutes. You don’t want to be out there alone, do you?"

You glanced toward the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The unease that had been lurking beneath the surface now felt like a solid weight pressing down on you. Something was very wrong, and you needed to leave—now.

"No, I’m leaving. Thank you for everything, but I need to go," you said, your voice steady despite the panic bubbling under the surface. You tried to move past Reese, your eyes focused on the door, your heart pounding with the hope of reaching it before things got worse.

But then Reese stepped in front of you, his whole demeanor changing in an instant. "No," he said flatly, his voice suddenly devoid of the awkwardness and sheepishness he’d shown before. His tone was cold, almost emotionless, as he closed the distance between you with startling speed.

Before you could react, you felt it—the cold press of metal against your neck. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body froze as the unmistakable sensation of a gun pressed hard into your skin.

"You're not going anywhere," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. His earlier nervousness was completely gone, replaced by something dark and dangerous. "Sit back down."

Your heart raced, your mind scrambling for a way out, but all you could feel was the sharp edge of fear coursing through you. You swallowed hard, trying not to move too quickly, knowing that with one wrong step, things could spiral even further out of control.

"Reese… please," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice from shaking. "You don’t have to do this."

His eyes flickered with something—anger, desperation—but his grip on the gun didn’t waver. "Just sit down, and no one has to get hurt."

Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but for now, all you could do was comply and hope that Xavier was still coming for you.

"I promised them a girl..." Reese muttered, his voice trembling slightly, though the gun still pressed firmly against your neck as you looked up at him from the couch. He glanced away from you, his guilt briefly flickering in his eyes. "Then you just... happened to be there. Right place, wrong time, I guess. So...this is how it has to be."

His words hung in the air, cold and final.

"I’m sorry," he added, though there was no comfort in his apology—just a hollow attempt at easing his own conscience.

Your breath hitched as you tried to process his words, the full weight of the situation crushing down on you. He wasn’t just some awkward guy helping you out of kindness. He had been waiting for someone—anyone—to fill a promise. And you had walked right into it.

As you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, the cold barrel of the gun pressed against your neck, the door creaked open. Another man stepped into the room. He was taller than Reese, with a thick, rough appearance—his face shadowed by the dim light. His eyes swept the room, landing on you, taking in the situation with a detached indifference.

"Is this the girl you promised?" the man asked, his voice low and gruff, as if he’d been through this kind of scene too many times to be surprised by it. His gaze shifted briefly to Reese, then back to you, narrowing with interest.

You felt a chill run down your spine as his question hung in the air.

Reese didn’t move the gun from your neck, but you could feel the tension in his body shift as he glanced over at the man, clearly nervous about his arrival. "Yeah, this is her," Reese replied, his voice tight. "I just… need a few more minutes to get her to cooperate."

The other man stepped closer, his boots heavy on the floor. His eyes raked over you, cold and calculating. "No time for that," he said flatly. "Get her in the basement. You know how this works, Reese."

Your pulse quickened, fear gripping you tighter as you looked from one man to the other, your mind spinning with panic. What were they planning? You needed to find a way out, and fast, before things escalated even further.

"You’re making a mistake," you said, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "Someone’s coming for me. If you don’t let me go, it’s going to get a lot worse for both of you."

As the weight of your words hung in the air, you weren’t even sure who you were referring to in that moment—Sylus, the man who had kidnapped you in the first place, or Xavier, the one coming to save you. Both names were tangled up in your desperation, your mind too frantic to distinguish between them. All you could do was hope that the threat would ring true, that it would be enough to make Reese think twice.

The taller man smirked, clearly unimpressed. "We’ll see about that," he muttered, turning his back toward the door to pull up the carpet, leaving you alone with Reese and the gun still pressed to your neck. You watch as a metal trap door with a handle is revealed to have been hidden under the carpet and you gasp.

Instinct kicked in, and without thinking, you twisted suddenly, using the brief distraction in Reese’s hesitation to try and break free. You shoved his arm away with everything you had, knocking the gun off balance. For a moment, you thought you had a chance, adrenaline flooding your body as you fought with all the strength you could muster.

"Let go of me!" you screamed, thrashing and kicking as hard as you could. Your elbow connected with Reese's side, and he let out a sharp grunt, but his grip tightened. His face twisted in a mixture of frustration and fear, and he fought back, grabbing your arm and wrenching you toward him.

"Stop it!" Reese growled, struggling to maintain control, but you weren’t going down without a fight. You kicked at his legs, but his hold on you only grew stronger.

The door to the basement creaked open, and before you could react, the taller man reappeared, grabbing you by the other arm. His grip was like iron, and between the two of them, they overpowered you. Your heart pounded as you screamed and clawed, your feet scraping against the floor, but the force of their combined strength was too much.

"No! Please—" you gasped, trying to twist free, but they dragged you toward the open door.

The tall man grunted with effort as they forced you toward the dark, looming stairwell. "Get her down there already," he growled, his tone sharp and impatient.

You struggled even harder, but your muscles were weakening, the adrenaline starting to fade as fear took over. They shoved you roughly down the narrow staircase, and you stumbled, catching yourself against the damp wall. The dimness of the basement swallowed you whole, the air cold and musty. You could feel the fear wrapping around you, tighter with each step they forced you to take.

The taller man was close behind, his heavy footsteps echoing in the cold, damp basement. You felt his rough hand grab the bottom of your nightgown, his fingers curling into the fabric. Panic surged through you as his cold hand snaked across your belly, the touch sending a shiver of disgust up your spine.

You screamed, thrashing wildly against his grip, but his strength overpowered you. The man leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Wouldn't hurt to try her out before the boss gets here..." His voice was thick with lust, and his eyes gleamed with a hunger that turned your stomach.

His hand slid lower, his fingers beginning to snake inside your underwear. You could feel his hard on pressed against your backside. Fear and revulsion took over, and you knew you had to do something—anything—to stop him.

Thinking fast, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind, your voice desperate and shaking. "I'm bleeding! I'm on my period!"

The words seemed to stop him in his tracks. His hand paused, the twisted hunger in his eyes faltering for a moment as confusion flickered across his face.

"You’re what?" he muttered, his brow furrowing. His grip loosened just slightly, enough for you to take a sharp breath, your heart still racing.

"I’m on my period," you repeated, your voice trembling. "It’s—it’s bad. You don’t want to do this right now."

For a brief second, his disgusted expression told you that he was weighing his options. The thought of period blood clearly repulsed him, and his hand slowly pulled away from your underwear, his lips curling in frustration.

"You’re lucky," he growled, wiping his hand on his pants, his face twisted with disdain. "But don’t think that saves you."

His hand shot up before you could react, grabbing a fistful of your hair and dragging you across the rough concrete floor toward the makeshift shower installed in the corner of the basement. Your scalp throbbed with each pull, the pain sharpening with every step, but you bit your lip, refusing to cry out.

He threw you against the cold, damp wall, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You barely had time to catch your breath before he twisted the rusty shower handle. Water burst from the nozzle, freezing and unforgiving.

“So filthy,” he sneered, standing over you as the icy water soaked your clothes, plastering them to your skin. “Maybe this will help?"

The cold bit into your bones, and you hugged yourself, trembling, struggling to stay upright as the water pounded down. He stood there a moment longer, watching with twisted satisfaction, before finally turning away, leaving you shivering on the cold, wet floor of the basement.

Sobbing on the cold, unforgiving basement floor, you shiver, your body pressed against the damp concrete, each breath heavy with despair. The chill seeps into your skin, a numbing cold that echoes the hollow ache inside you. Your tears fall, silent and unnoticed, merging with the grime beneath you as exhaustion pulls you deeper into its grip. In the silence, a desperate wish slips through your mind for someone to save you—anyone, even him.

Though Sylus had stolen you away, his presence now haunts you like a ghost. In this unbearable solitude, even the memory of him feels like a twisted solace. You long for his shadow, for those red, gleaming eyes that once pierced through the darkness, and his stark white hair, a glimmer against the void.

At least he gave you warm baths.

The thought slips through your mind, shame twisting in your chest. How could you even think of Sylus now, when poor Xavier was likely out there, rushing to save you, unaware of the torment you’re enduring? Guilt coils around you, tightening with every heartbeat, yet you can’t shake the cruel comfort of that memory. Sylus, for all the wrong he had done, had never left you to freeze, never left you to shiver and break alone.

Your vision blurs as the weight of everything crushes you, and you can almost see him—an apparition of salvation in your mind. His image flickers, vivid and sharp, as your consciousness begins to fray at the edges. The world slips away, piece by piece, and the cold wraps tighter around you.

The cold water finally stops.

In this fading moment, you cling to that impossible hope, that he, with his red eyes and cold hands, might come for you—if only to save you from a fate worse than death.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Kiss the Ocean Kiss Yourself

So, sorry about not posting original content in a while. I'm between homes right now, so I only just got to a place where I can actually write fanfic and so I completely indulged because I'm a whore for König.

Anyways, enjoy some sweet adorable fluff with Summoned!König. Just a lil first kiss kinda fluff, ya know? The adorable sweet stuff.

Anyways, story below the cut.

SFW

No TWs apply

Kiss the Ocean Kiss Yourself

You figured it was useless to try and find patterns in an avatar of chaos’s schedule, but you'd somehow managed to figure out one significant trend.

Every night, without fail, König would rise up out of a shadow in the corner of your eye. Tonight he choose one cast by a curtain by an open window. You’d need to shut that later. 

You greeted him with a wave of your hand before going back to your reading. 

A hand draped over your shoulder, “And what are you reading today, Summoner?”

“Fanfics,” you muttered as you scrolled.

König gave a displeased hum as he strolled to your side.

“I suggest you read something more… “ König thought for a moment, “substantial.”

“I'm going to bed. I don't want to learn,” you reasoned.

“And so you read… What do you call it… Smut?” König leaned over your shoulder with an inquisitive squint.

“Yeah?” you scrolled up desperately to prevent him from reading the raunchiest part, but it was in vain.

“You could always ask for my assistance instead of turning to this,” König turned to whisper in your ear.

You shoved his face away with a spare hand.

König made a strange oceanic gurgling sound before rounding the sofa to sit beside you. He draped himself over you, nearly suffocating you in the folds of his dark robes.

“Dude, I'm reading!” you squawked and thrashed against him.

“They both die in the last chapter,” König caught your swat and batted it away just as easily.

You put away the screen with a sigh. At this point, you should just give up on trying. He'd successfully ruined three fanfics for you so far, all within the past two days. You fell back in his arms with a slump.

“You could just ask me to put it away, you know,” you grumbled as he pulled you into his side.

“This is far more entertaining,” König sniffed.

“I hate you.”

“You should stop lying to me, Summoner. It does not work.”

“I know!” you groaned as you burrowed into his robes.

König adjusted to let you fall  into his lap. He stroked your hair gently, letting you relax under his touch. He wordlessly widened his legs and dragged you into his lap properly to cradle you against his chest. You rest your head against his chest, listening to his three heartbeats drumming a steady beat under his skin.

“Do you get cold a lot?” you asked as you curled your hands in his soft woolen robes.

“A bit,” König replied before pulling you close, “it's warmer with you by my side.”

You couldn't stop the smile that crept onto your lips. 

Your relationship with the avatar was complicated. You were his mate, but you still found the title to be heavy and unnerving. However, the longer you spent in the avatar's company, the more comfortable you felt in his arms. At one point you'd suspected he was manipulating your mind, but you figured that worrying about that would only lead to undesirable truths, and so thus accepted his attention for what it was. Without a second thought, you cuddled into your ‘mate’s’ chest and basked in his unholy radiance.

You felt a few tentacles crawling over you to trace soft and  intricate loving patterns into your skin. In turn, you rubbed his chest with tender affection. It was a new, blossoming thing that had grown from underneath the floorboards, but you nourished it all the same. It was a nice change from the eternal loneliness you'd wallowed in before you'd summoned your new partner.

You looked up at Königs face, or rather, his hood. If you squinted, you could see ancient writings embroidered into the hood, miniscule characters spelling certain doom for eons to come. You timidly reached up to touch the writings, feel them under your fingertips, but your arm was grabbed by a scaly talon. Ice blue eyes stared down at you coldly.

“I wouldn't suggest that,” König whispered, airs of ominous threats lacing his words.

“Why?” you asked as you let your hand fall.

“Your simple mind cannot handle what lies beneath.”

You frowned.

“I am sorry, but you were not made to comprehend my visage,” König reassured you gently, “please understand that I wish to keep my mate alive and well.”

You nodded slowly. It hurt, but you figured something like this would happen. You sighed and slumped down in his lap.

“Summoner, why do you seem so sad?” König raised your chin with a scaled claw.

You whimpered, then asked, “So does that mean I can't kiss you?”

For the first time since you'd summoned him, König looked surprised. Maybe, even though he was able to see all the pathways of time and how they folded in on themselves, he still wasn’t able to prophesize the future like he tried to tell you he could. He seemed so taken aback that you had to call his name to bring him back to you.

“Do you wish to?” he asked with an uncharacteristic fervor.

He took your chin in his hand to guide you to look into his eyes. You tried to look away but he kept you in place firmly, his eyes searching desperately for answers.

You looked up at him. His eyes were wide and the script on his hood was writhing with the beating of his hearts like worms in the earth. You could see a ghostly impression of eyes haloing his head, each one looking at you as though you were a divine gift.

You reached up to tenderly cup what you hoped would be his cheek.

“I want to try.”

König blinked, and then leaned back to stare at the ceiling in thought. He drummed his black claws gently against your shoulder and hummed. After a minute, he nodded and looked down.

“I can take a human form, but it might not be… It might not be perfect,” he looked nervous under his ancient hood.

“What do you mean?” you asked as you drew your hands to your chest.

“As in…” König hissed inhumanly, “I can mimic, but only just.”

“Could you try though?” you asked hopefully.

König thought for a moment, then nodded. He wrapped his palms over his face and sighed, but the sound was drowned out by fleshy pops and brittle snaps. You tried to hide your wince but failed miserably. It seemed to go on forever, but just as soon as it started, it stopped.

He dropped his hands to secure one around your back, the other laying on your stomach.

“I have done what I can,” he said, the sclera of his eyes now an iridescent oily black.

You reached up slowly before pulling back.

“May I?” you asked, to which he conceded a nod.

You reached up again. The edges of his hood were worn in your hands, and you took a moment to enjoy the silk under the light.

“It's beautiful,” you told him.

His chest rumbled like thunder as he chuckled and replied, “It is nearly as old as I am. I've used it to cover myself since I can remember.”

“Even in the other world?” you asked.

“Especially in the other,” König affirmed.

You wanted to ask more questions, but you had bigger tasks. Namely, getting this hood off. With the task set in your mind, you slowly raised the hood.

The first thing you saw was a rounded jaw covered in blond stubble. You were about to comment on how normal he looked when you saw the stubble wave. It dawned on you that the stubble was actually tiny thin tentacles on his face, mimicking hair to the best of its abilities. 

“Does your face normally have tentacles?” you asked.

“Sometimes,” König let you raise the hood higher, “but I'm concerned about the mouth. Are the teeth okay?”

You were about to laugh when you saw his mouth. His lips were thin and chapped. As he spoke, you could see multiple rows of needle-like teeth along the inside of his mouth like an unearthly sea creature. A couple jutted out along the top, looking somewhat like vampire fangs. 

“Your teeth are a bit sharp,” you admitted with a wince.

“Do you want me to change them?”

You considered the notion, only to shake away the thought of having to listen to him change again. You could tolerate some sharp teeth.

“Can I take the rest of the hood off?” you asked.

“Do as you like.”

And so you did. You raised the hood and tucked it into your lap as you admired his new face.

“You look…” you brushed your hand along his jaw, “more handsome than I expected, honestly.”

He smiled with a huge grin full of teeth.

“I hoped so.”

You took a hand and brushed it through his short, messy wheat blonde hair. If it weren't so unkempt, it might have been a nice military cut. At least it was within regulations, you supposed. It was nice and thick, too.

He scrunched his thick eyebrows together as he looked into your eyes.

“Are you sure this is to your standards?” his pointed ears flicked back with concern.

“I think you look incredible,” you pressed a kiss against the tip of his slender crooked nose.

König’s eyes widened before he smiled warmly.

“I am glad, Summoner.”

You tugged on the back of his neck to bring him down to your level. He obliged and leaned in close. From here, you could see the fragile emotions he'd tried to hide from you for so long. All the longing and fear was practically shining before your eyes.

Without wasting any more time, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his.

It was awkward, and frankly his breath smelled worse than you expected. It was hot and acrid like an ocean shore, and his teeth pinched into your lips, but you'd do anything to kiss him again. It was too short, too sweet for your liking. You wanted to do it again.

You leaned in and kissed him with passion, this time focussing on how he struggled to mimic your motions. It seemed all his experiences with immortality had left him unprepared for this event. You remembered how lonely he told you he was. Your heart cracked.

The second kiss was longer, but not long enough.

You pulled away and held his face in your hands, cherishing what you never knew you had. Seeing him like this, it made you wonder if being his mate would be so bad after all. He wasn't extraordinary, but you wouldn't have wanted any more anyways. He was perfect to you, and that's what mattered in your mind.

Of course, you couldn't hold him forever, so you let him lean back and kiss your forehead as you huddled into him.

“I've wanted this for so long,” he murmured into your skin.

“I'm sorry I made you wait.”

He laughed and kissed you again, “It was worth every moment.”

You wanted to stay with him forever, to keep this moment alive for eternity, but time was not so kind to you. A yawn made its way from within, and your eyes were droopy as you laid your face against his chest. You fought valiantly, but you could only fight for so long before he decided to make decisions for you.

“We can be together tomorrow, Summoner,” he assured you as he rose to his feet, keeping you tucked against his chest like a precious gift.

“I don't want this to end,” you admitted sleepily.

“It doesn't have to,” he promised, “I can see you again tomorrow.”

He set you down on your bed and pulled the covers over you. You grabbed his arm before he could pull it away.

“Can you stay with me tonight? you asked with your last burst of energy.

König let himself still as he thought carefully. For a moment, you worried that he'd vanish into the shadows like so many nights before. But instead, he nodded.

He curled into your bed behind you, tucking you tightly against his body as you felt yourself drifting away. Soon, his warmth enshrouded you like the star lit sky, pulling you into a slumbering darkness.

He held you close to his body, embracing all parts of you under the covers.

“Thank you,” you heard yourself say.

“Sleep well, my mate,” you felt another kiss pressed to your cheek before you succumbed to sleep, “I will be with you always.”

AU Masterlist

[knnichs]

i love you in the worst way

his work was not what kept him up–tossing and turning on his bed. it was you.

c. goro akechi, gn!reader

t. mentions of shido (i hate him,) major p5r/p5 spoilers, slight implications of suicide (very plot heavy, but vague,) yearning who cheered, not beta read

reupload once more… second part of the first akechi fic, as always original notes are at the end & you can find the og ao3 link here!!

The dimly lit apartment had a comforting emptiness to it, regardless of what everyone says about loneliness. Akechi always found himself missing its familiar quiet, akin to a park with the occasional muffled voices of others. He would sit under the bridge if no one was there, maybe near the lake–or alone on the bench, watching as the birds fly free across the blue sky. Work as a detective would mean socializing with others, even if it meant becoming a little fake towards them. But he chose this line of work, he knew what he was getting into the moment he and Shido had struck a deal. 

Nevertheless, he felt a little sick that night. Somehow dreading coming back home. Maybe it was the insomnia, maybe the lack of a companion–a true one–the entire day. As much as he loved working with Sae, they can get into some heated arguments sometimes and Akechi didn’t need that on his already overfilled plate. It wasn't that, however, that was not what kept him up–tossing and turning on his bed.

It was you. 

If he was being honest, he didn’t think he would ever fall in love. In a romantic sense anyway–with his grand death on step 30 of his revenge plan against Shido (that damned politician) and if everything went well, his poisonous blood would forever stain that man. With patience wearing thin, he wouldn’t dare do anything aside from preparing for the last chapter, the finale, of the famed detective prince.

He sighs, exhausted from the entire day and everyone in general. If he was going to be honest, meeting up with you was the one thing he was looking forward to. But of course, his fans just had to ruin the moment. He’s half thankful, somehow, if he’d stay any longer–his heart would’ve lept out of his chest and taken control of his brain, leaving nothing unsaid.

Just how nice would that be? Seeing the expression on your face as he says things you would’ve never thought the detective prince would say. Three words, spoken in hushed whispers, mumbling too quick that you wouldn’t even be able to understand it immediately. 

I love you, and the words are on the tip of his tongue everytime he sees you.

If you were to ask him, that's exactly what he hates the most. Not the feeling of being a dead man in a body somehow still full of life, or the metallic taste of blood in his mouth after he bit his cheek trying to restrain himself from saying things he would later regret. He would act as if the vision of the white curtains blowing in the wind from an open window and the sun just–shining on your face, a single moment of calm in his lifetime of chaos and fighting. Oh, you would look so beautiful. You would wake up smiling–at him, of all people. It would reach your eyes, an expression of pure joy, and it would forever be etched into his memory. 

To him, it’s like lyrics to a song he’s listened to one too many times. He keeps repeating the same things to himself, words he could only wish to tell you–because it’s you, it’s you who his heart yearns for. It’s you who causes the inner meltdowns because his heart is beating way too fast and his breathing is uneven when he sees you, only hoping that you could somehow pick up on the signs and tell him the same things back. 

A backyard, hanging up the clothes with you underneath the early morning sun. Running across hills filled to the brim with flowers. Traveling country to country, making lunch at the airbnb you two stayed at to save money. The laughs, the smiles–no. He’d be driving himself insane going down that rabbit hole. There will always be that voice in his head that tells him it’s wrong, and truth be told, he’s getting sick of it.

Fine then. So be it, he has other things to worry about anyway. 

The boy rolls over the bed, lazily reaching for the phone he put on the desk drawer and turning it on. 2:03 am, that would mean he had spent the last two hours thinking about you since he got home. 

Tomorrow, he’d whisper to himself. Interview at 10 am, attend as many classes until lunch break–go to the station and help Sae with the cases, investigate for Akira. And a beat of silence in his mind before a familiar name shows up; capture the leader of the Thieves, kill Shido. His plate was already overfilled, and it didn't take long for him to realize that he had to fit you somewhere on his schedule too. What was he even worrying about anyway? There’s a busy week ahead of him and you would understand the distance, more than anyone for that matter.

So, why does he feel guilty? His chest feels tight, this is wrong. You’ve done so much for him and yet–you let him treat you like this? You know everything about each other, you know him better than he knows himself…

That part was a lie. As far as he knows, you only know of his past–but not as the culprit of the mental shutdown cases. You know him from the princely “good boy” ace detective Akechi, he’s done a good job at covering everything up and you–you’re just…

It’s frustrating for him, it really is. He knows you see right through him, you’re the only one who asks how he’s doing after all. You know something’s up, you’ve been with him long enough for it to become an instinct to you. And it's most definitely affecting his plan that he’s developed for years–you were ruining it. 

3:14 am.

He’s still awake. Wondering about the choices he’s made for it to lead up to this… Nonsense. He doesn’t understand why you make him feel this way, he doesn’t know why you choose to care about some worthless child. It’s almost like he’s your greatest wish and to him it's foolish. Who would want someone like him? A murderer, some fraud persona built for the tv, a child who was never loved by their own parents–a curse. 

He’ll have to blow off some steam in that metaverse later, but now, he needs to get rest for the long day tomorrow. 

Slowly, he reaches for his phone. Turning it on only to be blinded by the light–despite it being on the lowest brightness setting–and he stops for a bit to get adjusted to it. He scrolls down to your contact, swipes right, and removes you. 

That was all it took for him to completely forget about the yearning he had just felt, a swipe of the finger, and you were–as he thought–gone.

hi.. im back :pray: heres a part 2 to the last work i made about akechi (message in a bottle) part 3 will be the very last, finally. Valentines (teehee) this is set in the same day as when he left immediately in the restaurant, so !!! yeah thats all okay goodbye :heart: thats all, see u all again next month if i ever come around to finishing part 3 ^^

[kimberbohwrites]

'Ma'am' Chapter Two

Rolan has been pining for an older Tav for some time now. They both think they other hates them and when they realize their error, smut ensues. >Dedicated to @lemonsrosesandlavender and you know why. >Dedicated to @crowwolf and anon for the original prompt that spiraled into 6k words of smut >Dedicated to anyone who identifies as female and has ever felt the struggles of seeing your own beauty and power in a world that wants us to be the opposite. Esp. those of us who might be getting older.

Rated: Explicit, MDNI, Smut Word Count: 2966 Chapter 2/2 Read Chapter One: Tumblr | Ao3 READ ON AO3 (also continued below the line)

Please note: In this I’m writing as Rolan in his 30s and Tav in her 40s with a 10 year age difference.

As the door of his bedroom clicked shut behind him, Rolan immediately found himself flush against the door. You had rushed to claim his mouth once more in an eager kiss. The entire way up from the shop floor he had barely been able to focus, his mind unraveled with lust and need. Soft touches from you had kept him grounded enough to manage his way to the bedroom.

He whimpers as you kiss him, it feels as if it’s been ages since the last one even though he knows only minutes have passed.

“Someone is a little touch-starved, aren’t they?”

Rolan blushes deeply as you whisper the obvious in the darkness.

“I— it’s…”

He sputters trying to answer you. A small part of his brain tells him that he should be embarrassed to already be falling apart so completely under the touch of another. The greater part of him can’t find the will to care at all. Finally, you are touching him, and he can touch you, your beauty and warmth no longer just out of reach.

“It’s okay, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about”

You say as if you can read the scattered thoughts running rampant through his mind.

“I have wanted to touch you for so long Rolan, I promise I’ll make you feel good, okay?”

He nods in response, biting back a whine.

“What do you say?”

He fumbles for a minute and then remembers and with it comes the warmth of arousal pulsing through him once more.

“Yes ma’am”

You reward him immediately with a harder kiss, your tongue sweeping into his mouth. Gods you’re perfect. He’s whimpering into the kiss again when your hands sweep up into his hair, taking it down from his normally neat hairstyle and letting it fall loose on his shoulders. As you comb your fingers through it softly, he kisses down your neck as if to worship every bit of skin he finds.

You moan at the feeling and the sound makes his knees buckle under him again. This time you do notice.

“You poor thing. You should lie down.”

You guide him from the door over to the bed and while standing next to it, give him a few more sweet kisses before pushing him down hard on to it. He lands on his back on the soft sheets. Before he can think, you are on him, straddling his chest and leaning down to kiss him deeply. Rolan can’t help but moan and whimper lightly at the sensation.

“Gods… wanted you… wanted this… so long” he manages to get out between kisses. The words come in deep gasps of air as he wills his body not to give out from sheer ecstasy.

“Me too,” You respond as you sit up and gaze down at him.

You give him a look that seems to be begging a question — is he still enjoying this? Still wanting this?

He nods and whines, bucking his hips up. You’re sitting too high on him for him to find the friction he is seeking, and he lets out a whimper of defeat.

“By all the gods Rolan, look who is being greedy now”

“Please ma’am, please more”

Your smile could light the whole city, he’s sure of it.

“Alright, since you asked so nicely. Are you going to be good for me?”

He nods excitedly.

You smile again.

Then your eyes roam the room looking for something, he’s not sure quite what until your eyes narrow upon spying your quarry.

“Those will do nicely,” you muse to yourself

“Stay right here, like a good boy,”

He squirms a little in anticipation but heeds your order as he watches you climb off him and the bed. You cross the room toward an open closet that is strewn with old things. Upon one the shelves sits a box of old lengths of silk that matched the curtains in the bedrooms. Rolan hadn’t disposed of it yet, the bedroom closet was one of the last things he planned to worry about in the reorganizing of Ramazith Tower. It’s a blessing in disguise as you select a few lengths and turn to him with that foxlike grin.

“Can I use these?”

You say it so sweetly that Rolan almost forgets for a moment that he’s lying painfully hard on his bed, waiting for you. His heart flips flops in his chest at the way your eyes look innocent against the mischievous shape of your mouth. You are strong, brave, bright, and caring — and he is absolutely taken with you.

“Yes, of course.”

Crossing the room back to him, you take command of the situation once more.

“Get up and take off all your clothes,” You order him with that same sweet smile on your face.

“Yes ma’am”

He almost leaps off the bed and into action. Clawing at his own clothing so quickly that it makes you laugh a little despite the situation. Before too long he is naked before you, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths of anticipation. His cock stands proudly at attention, dripping pre-cum in eagerness of what might come next.

“Good boy,” you say, and he doesn’t even bother to fight the way he beams in response. Not that you’d miss the way your words made his cock twitch.

“Can I tie you up? Would that be okay?”

Rolan nearly passes out at the thought. Never had he considered being tied up in such a manner and now at the mere suggestion of it he is almost coming completely untouched. The whimper of need he responds with is quite loud.

“Please, ma’am,”

“Please what? Good boy?”

He shifts and squirms again. The feelings running through him feel stronger than any wine or drink could ever compare to. Is it possible to be drunk on a person? He wonders to himself. Here he is ready to throw his pride away in this moment for you and he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Please… tie me up…Ma’am”

He grits out the words, still trying to save a little face by trying to hold on to that grouchy personality that protects him from the world.

“On the bed”

You order as you approach and help guide him where you want him with a caring touch. Every so often you drop your face down to a different part of his skin and leave hot kisses in your wake. His body feels like it’s on fire from the combination of stimulation.

“Fuck” He hisses out.

His wrist is in your gentle grasp as you begin to tie it carefully to the closest post. You repeat this action three more times with each limb, so patiently and delicately checking to make sure the knots were firm— but also being sure they wouldn’t cause pain. You looked up at his face questioningly between each, making sure he was still okay and felt safe in this moment.

Rolan was grateful for it. While he didn’t know yet how to articulate it, he was fragile in so many ways from mishandling over his life. From parents who dumped him away as a baby to a city that would exile him for no crime other than existing. Hells, even the damage that his predecessor did to him in the short months of his apprenticeship was more than what the average person might suffer in their lives. Some part of you must have known, always known, he mused to himself, that he was fragile.

And yet you waited patiently for him anyway. He thought.

Rolan hadn’t been in love before and he wasn’t even sure if you even could fall in love with someone as they tied you to a bedpost, but if it was, he was certain that this was the case. He loved you. Now wasn’t the time to tell you, but he would and soon. He’d take you for dinner and by candlelight he’d tell you that he loved you and never wanted to be without you.

But for right now he was just a man tied to his own bed. There was a certain freedom in it he found himself thinking, as strange as it may seem. As soon as you took control, he felt a weight lift from him, the panic about the Tower, the worry over his siblings, the fears of inadequacy that have always haunted them — it’s like you could mute them simply by taking charge. There was a blissful peace in it.

He felt your fingertips ghost up his leg and snapped out of his thoughts, you’d finished securing him and were tracing his infernal ridges as you worked your way back up to him. Finally, you came to sit down on the bed next to him. It was only then that he realized he was nude you were still fully clothed. You looked at him with an almost devilish quality in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

He whimpers as his mind reels, trying to parse out what it is he wants. He knows he need only ask.

“T-touch me, please ma’am, touch me”

“Of course, because you asked so sweetly”

You run your hands over his torso, and he immediately groans at the feeling. Your skin is softer than anything he’s ever felt. Brushing your fingers across his nipples gently earns you a hiss that causes him to shift slightly, already seeking relief. His cock is throbbing, impossibly hard from this and he’s certain that he is making a mess of the bedding from the steady stream of pre-cum leaking from it.

“You feel so good Rolan, you’re so warm, I love it”

As you finish your statement one of your hands grazes near his cock ever so slightly and he lets out a loud whine. He finally pulls against his restraints for the first time. The featherlight touches have him close to the precipice before you’ve barely begun, and he is nervous about how long he can last like this.

“You’re so sensitive too, so reactive, it’s perfect”

Your touches continue to his thighs, his abs, finally brushing against his cock once more. Tears well in his eyes and threaten to spill. He can’t form words under these conditions; your praise and your touch have undone him. Then he feels you get off the bed and turns to find you standing once more.

“Noooo” He whines.

“Shhhhh, patience needy one… and you forgot something.”

He gathers his thoughts for a moment.

“Sorry ma’am”

“That’s better, now be patient”

The words are an order, not harshly barked but with enough authority behind them to know that you mean business. He bites his bottom lip to calm himself, careful not to draw blood with his sharp teeth.

You smile down at him as your hands come down to the hem of your tunic to pull it over your head slowly. His chest is pounding in anticipation as you slowly remove each piece of clothing all just out of reach of him. It is both torture and reward, for as you reveal each new bit of skin. He is both thrilled and being driven nearer to madness by the thought of your bare skin against him. After what feels like an eternity you are nude before him and climbing back on to the bed.

Your hand brushes up his cock again. It lurches under your touch, and he groans and tries to position his hips to get more friction.

“This is big, Rolan.”

He can’t help but grin as you grasp him and begin to stroke him. He’s never known where he stood as far as being well-endowed went, but he’ll take your word for it.

“I think you need to make sure I can handle this, want to help?”

He nods eagerly in response, and you smile at him. On your hands and knees, you crawl up the bed to him.

“I think I’m going to sit on that pretty face of yours, is that okay?”

“Fuck,” he hisses out almost coming at the thought, “Yes, please, ma’am”

His words come out as individual pants as he writhes against his bonds once more.

 Leaning down, you give him another kiss, deep and full of affection. Your tongue brushes against him and you moan a little into his mouth. He smiles into the kiss remembering that you want this just as much as he does. Then you are pulling away to straddle his face and lower yourself gently. His tail comes up to wrap around your ankle as you do so, holding you tight.

“If you need me to move or to stop for any reason, just let go of me with your tail, okay?”

He nods to you, and you lower your dripping cunt down on to his face. He strains against the bonds to raise his head, eagerly licking at every fold. This isn’t something he has a lot of experience in, but he’s been told he’s a quick study and he’s nothing if not enthusiastic. Trying to catalogue every touch you like best, he flattens his tongue against you as he tries to cover more area.

The result is almost immediate as you begin to shake and shudder. He can feel your thighs start to quiver and knows he’s on the right track. Before long he is taking your clit in his mouth, sucking gently and alternating with his tongue. Your moans grow louder, and he can hear you saying his name. His cock drips in excitement, trying to rein himself in to not finish just from the taste of you.

After a few minutes you’re close and he can tell, all he needs to do is push you over the edge. Without the use of his hands, he is struggling to come up with exactly how when it hits him. With a deep breath he presses his nose to your clit as his tongue darts in and out of your hole. He grinds his face slightly against you, being sure to keep a firm pressure. The extra friction is just the thing and with almost a wail, your climax overtakes you. You drench his face with the sweet taste of you while you writhe and shiver as he continues to lick you through it.

“Good boy,” You moan sensuously as you clear the fog of your orgasm.

Lifting from him and repositioning yourself once more, you lean down to kiss his drenched face. Sharing the taste between you which makes you both moan into the kiss. He is pulling against his bonds now. He needs to have you, or he is certain he’ll die. You notice with a coy smile, having wound him up just as you had planned.

“I didn’t forget about you of course” you murmur as you shift down to straddle his desperate cock.

He nods eagerly, so close to the edge already that he is nearly delirious for the release of oblivion under you. Still, he steels himself as he feels your warm heat envelop him, wanting this to last just a little longer if possible. The sound that leaves you as you fully seat yourself on him makes it nearly impossible to hold on. Your head is thrown back, neck exposed, your mouth opens, and you let out the most seductive moan he’s sure he’s ever heard.

His tail comes up to wrap around your waist as you adjust to the size of him.

“Fuck, Rolan, you feel amazing,”

He can’t respond, he’s huffing and fighting to hold on to control — to not cum on the spot. Fighting to not grind his hips up into you to get more of that feeling. It must be truly obvious how close he is, or you must be a mind reader because your next words are just what he needs.

“It’s okay Rolan, you don’t have to hold on, I want you to enjoy this”

He groans again as you begin to bounce yourself on him, his tail seeking to aid your motion. He’s puffing and panting, gods you feel so good,

“Thank… you… ma’am” he pants out to the pace of you riding him.

“My good boy”

With those three words it’s over. He lets out a loud grunt, almost a yell as his eyes roll back. His body lurches against the bonds as his cock pulses within you, filling you with his hot spend. His mind is a blank, all thought having been driven from out at the moment of climax. There is only the feeling.

Without a doubt, this is the hardest he’s ever come before. His head rests back against the bed and his mouth drops open as he continues to jerk up into you slightly with each spurt as he comes down. The first sensation he notes outside of pleasure again is the sound of your calm voice.

“That’s it, that was so good, you’re so good Rolan.”

You’re heaping praise on him, and he allows the combination of everything to sweep him away once more. When he comes to again it’s only minutes later, but he’s been untied and you’re gently cleaning him with a warm towel. You climb into bed with him and check his wrists and ankles, massaging them to soothe any discomfort. After a few minutes he pulls you close to him, and you lean out of his reach to grab a blanket to cover you both. Then you settle back, facing him as he puts his arms around your back, happy to have you in his arms.

The last thing he feels before he slips off to the best sleep he’s had in years, is the feeling of you leaving a kiss on his forehead — just between his horns.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

[goldenlaurelleaveswrites]

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe

Juleka vs. the Forces of the School Dance i

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe (AO3)

Hello everyone!!! I wanted to start out by thanking you all for your ongoing support and patience! This has taken me far longer than I had hoped, as I wanted to have this fic done before 2024. Obviously, that didn't happen 😂😅 I ended up needing to take a break to rest after my fall semester because it was super intense. I also had to take some time away from creative writing for personal reasons. your support, patience, and kindness has meant the absolute world to me, and I can't thank you enough for it.

Another reason why this chapter has taken so long is because chapter 17 was becoming massive (as in 20k words and counting). I debated this decision quite a bit, but in the end I've decided to break chapter 17 into smaller parts so that's why the chapter count has gone up 😅😅😅 It's much easier to revise shorter chapters, and I think it's probably easier to read shorter chapters too. This also gives me a bit more time to finish what is now the second last chapter.

I need to give a huge shoutout to the LBSC crew for their ongoing support, and for talking me off the ledge multiple times when it came to this chapter. And also just for being there for me the past few months. And again, another huge thank you to all of you for your support.

I Hope you enjoy the chapter!

ps. if I don't respond to comments on this chapter it's not because I'm ignoring any of you, it's because I don't entirely trust myself not to accidentally spoil something 😂😅

A thousand akumas fluttered in the pit of her stomach as she put the lid back on her lipstick with a satisfying click. She sat back in her chair and sighed. She was used to the feeling of butterflies, except right now it felt like there were silver and black akumas fluttering around insider her, and that mixture was a new feeling. 

On one hand, tonight was the night. The night Luka and Mari were going to the dance. Together. 

But on the other hand… she grimaced as the reminder for the ‘Operation Fairytale Ball Phone Meeting’ pinged on her phone. Usually they all got ready for dances together, but Marinette had needed the extra time to put the finishing touches on her dress and it hadn’t felt right for the rest of them to get together without her. But, Alya had wanted to go over the plans for the dance one more time, so Alya had scheduled a phone meeting… 

She had fifteen minutes until the call. 

She silenced the reminder on her phone, and turned her attention back to her reflection. The purple in her hair was nice and vivid, and the waves she had put in her hair added a touch of glamour. And her makeup looked amazing, if she did say so herself. She had gone for a soft but still vampy look with plum and black kohl softly smoked out across her lids and deep plum lips. She smiled as she tilted her head to the side, watching the way the light caught her highlight. Those makeup masterclasses had definitely paid off. In more ways than one. 

She straightened her head. And then frowned. 

Her bangs had slipped across her eyes again, obscuring her face. 

Usually, she liked wearing her hair that way. It had started as a security thing. Her hair had acted as a shield to hide her away from the rest of the world. And there were times she still needed that. 

But tonight… 

Tonight she didn’t want to hide. 

She reached for a bobby pin, but her hand stopped halfway to the tin of them she kept on her dressing table. Originally, she had planned on wearing her hair down, the way she normally did. But then she wouldn’t really be able to show off the back of her dress… 

And given what Alya had planned for the night—to say nothing of the schemes she was positive Alya had hidden up her sleeve—she could do with a touch of Tigress. 

She grabbed her brush and a black satin scrunchie, and made quick work of pulling her hair up into an elegant, high ponytail. Once the ponytail was secured, she grabbed a couple of bobby pins and pinned her bangs just enough so that they didn’t cover her eyes, but still framed her face to keep an element of drama. 

That was much better. 

“Hey Jules, have you seen the- Jules. You look beautiful.” 

She was unable to control the grin on her face as she turned to the door of their room. Luka was standing in the hallway, he was wearing his good jeans, but his hair was still damp and he was wearing a t-shirt. But even though he wasn’t ready, she couldn’t help but preen under his words. 

“Thank you.” 

A sappy grin was making its way onto his face. “I’m really proud of you.” 

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes you have.”

“No I-“

“Look at you,” he said quietly as he made his way to stand behind her, and direct her attention back to her reflection. 

“It’s just hair…” she mumbled, trying to fight the growing warmth in her cheeks. 

“You and I both know it’s not just hair. And it’s more than that. You’ve been-“

“A pain in your neck?” she asked with a laugh.

“You always are. But you’ve been more sure of yourself lately. More confident. You’ve been coming into your own. It’s nice to see.” 

“You’re such a sap, you’re going to make me ruin my makeup,” she mumbled, waving a hand in front of her eyes to keep them from tearing up. Once she was sure she wasn’t going to cry, she stood and hugged Luka tightly. He returned it just as fiercely. 

Once they broke apart, she smacked his arm. Lightly. Ish. “Why aren’t you ready yet, dummy?” 

He chuckled, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes. “I need to iron my shirt but I can’t find the iron anywhere.” 

“Check the greenhouse, last time I saw it Ma was using it as a door stop up there”

“Figures,” he mumbled under his breath. He was halfway out the room when he turned back. “I really am proud of you, you know.” 

   “I’m proud of you too.” After all, he was finally not stepping back. “Now go,” she said, smiling as she shooed him out. “You need to get ready, you are not making me late tonight.” 

“I thought it was fashionable to be late?” he called from the hall. 

“Shows what you know about fashion!” she quipped back before turning back to her mirror and began adjusting the pins in her hair so that everything was just right.  

Once she was satisfied, she added a final spritz of hairspray and then began packing her supplies for the evening into her clutch. Lipstick, powder, keys, hand sanitizer and cream, and emergency candy. Just in case. The finishing touches were her jewelry—the black lace choker she had made for herself and a pair of amethyst earrings—and a couple of spritzes of her favourite violet perfume. 

As Roarr would say, she had her war paint and armour on, and she was ready for battle. 

And not a moment too soon. 

The screen of her phone lit up with an incoming call, the icon for the Adrienette group chat flashing on the screen. 

“Hey,” she said once she had tapped to accept the call. 

“Hi bijou!” Rose’s voice came from the screen as the group chat icon filled the screen. Rose had insisted it would be a voice only call since they weren’t all getting ready together, that way that could all surprise each other with their finished looks. 

“Hi, Juleka,” Mylène said. 

“Hey,” Alix’s voice crackled to life over the phone.  

“Hi, Alix!” Rose chirped. “Are you excited?” 

“Sure,” came Alix’s nonchalant response. “I mean, it’s a dance. There’s only so much to really be excited about-” 

“Juleka?” Mylène’s voice cut Alix off. “My mascara is really clumpy! How do I fix it?” 

“Wipe the excess off your wand with a tissue and then brush it through. If you have a lash comb, brush it through your lashes too. That should break some of them up.”

“You’re a life saver, thank you.” 

“Are we going to get started, or what?” She had thought at first that maybe Alya hadn’t been on the call—a foolish thought—but it seemed Alya was still officially not talking to her. Which, after last night… she wasn’t entirely sure it was a good or bad thing. 

Either way, it was an awkward thing. 

Rose and Mylène had been in a tizzy all day, trying to get them to talk to each other. Alix had made a few attempts, but after a while had clearly given up and resorted to sighing and rolling her eyes with great exasperation. But Alya… Alya was stubborn. Marinette and the rest of the class had picked up on it too, except Adrien that was. Even Bustier had noticed something weird was going on.  

Honestly, it felt more than safe to assume that the only reason she was even included in this pre-game call, so to speak, was because the rest of the girls hadn’t given Alya a choice. Looking at the screen, Rose had been the one to initiate the call. 

“If we have to…” Alix groaned. 

“We do. Nothing can go wrong tonight,” Alya said firmly. 

Well, they were sort of in agreement there. 

They were just… diametrically opposed… 

“So, I just texted Marinette,” Alya continued, “She just got out of the shower so she’ll only just be starting drying and doing her hair, which means we all have time to get there and get everything into place…” 

Despite the fact that she could have listed the schemes backwards in her sleep, she listened carefully to Alya’s every word. She mentally sifted through every word and intonation, looking for any potential clues for what other schemes might come into play. Because she knew Alya. And after their… talk last night, there was no way Alya was showing up without a fresh set of schemes ready to go. 

Which meant she needed to be ready for anything.  

But she was feeling apprehensive about the evening for more reasons than Alya was giving her. 

An odd clash of elation and dread was brewing in her stomach like a hurricane. She knew all the schemes that had been plotted at the meetings she was present for. She knew Alya undoubtedly had more schemes that she didn’t know about ready to set in motion. She knew she had to be and was ready to deal with those schemes. 

She also knew Luka and Marinette were going. 

Together. 

Of their own choosing. 

But she wasn’t expecting much beyond that in the sense that, well… school dances were… school dances. They were fun. But they weren’t the magical and romantic settings that movies and tv likes to play them off as. So while she was elated that they were going together, she couldn’t see much more than that happening tonight. 

Apart from all the stupid and ridiculous schemes she would have to derail, that is. 

As much as she wanted Luka and Marinette to stop being idiots, they were idiots. Sure, she could give them gentle nudges, but tonight, her priority was to just let them enjoy themselves. They had already taken one step away from idiocy by going to the dance together. Tonight was about letting them just enjoy their one small step towards reason.   

But even knowing that…  she just couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was going to happen tonight. 

“School dances are just so romantic!” Rose squealed, breaking her from her thoughts.

***

The thing about school dances was that they were just about the furthest thing from romantic. 

The music was always too loud for an enclosed space, and the base too high. And the music choice was always just what was most popular. Which was fine. There was nothing  wrong with music being popular. It was just that Bob Roth had bought XY’s place to the top of the charts, so the playlist by default, was dominated by XY’s  music- or rather, the music he had stolen.

To say nothing of the smell. The school dances were always held in the gym, which perpetually smelled like a phys-ed class. And the boy’s locker room. Even the smell of strong perfume and cheap cologne couldn’t mask the eau de body odour. Somehow, it just made it worse. 

Awkwardness permeated the very air; whether it was people trying to ask their crushes to dance, or people worrying over what they wore or who came with who. And of course there were the chaperones. It was impossible for anything to be romantic when M. Damocles and Mme. Mendeliev were watching the dance floor like a pair of hawks, on the lookout for any inappropriate behaviour. 

How could anyone think school dances were romantic?

“This is going to be so romantic!” Rose’s squeal was high pitched enough to be heard over the music without shouting. 

Well, anyone except Rose. 

“Rose! Juleka!” She turned at the sound of Ivan’s voice, which somehow managed to travel through the pounding base. Ivan and Mylène were weaving through the crowd towards them. Nathaniel was trailing behind them, in the wake Ivan left as people parted to let him and Mylène pass.

“Are Alya and Alix here yet?” Mylène asked as she joined their group, almost shouting to make herself heard over the music. “Rose, you look lovely! And-” Mylène’s eyes widened a bit as she looked at her. “Juleka! Your hair” 

“It looks really nice like that,” Ivan said with a shy smile. 

“You look gorgeous!”

“Doesn’t she?” Rose asked brightly, taking a firmer grip on her arm as she leaned against her. 

Her cheeks were suddenly hot and she had to remind herself not to hide her face in her hands given she couldn’t rely on her hair to hide her blush. “Thanks. You all look great too!” she added, gesturing to Ivan, who had a small, faux sunflower clipped to his shirt to match the floral print of Mylène’s dress. Mylène had twisted her hair up into a bun, which was also adorned with a sunflower clipped into it to frame a loose tendril by the side of her face. “You too, Nathaniel,” she added as she glanced at him. He cleaned up pretty good.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice almost lost to the crowd. “Oh, I see Marc! If you guys don’t mind, I’m going to go…” 

“Of course!” Rose squealed, grinning. “We’ll see you on the dance floor?” 

Nathaniel nodded with a smile before slipping away. 

“So…” Ivan said slowly, “I know you all had some sort of plan but if Alya and Alix aren’t here yet, maybe you and I could dance?” he asked, turning to Mylène. 

Mylène was just nodding when a familiar voice carried through the music. 

“I bet you I could dance for an hour straight!” 

“I bet you would trip over your feet in the first ten minutes,” she heard Alix say as she caught a flash of pink hair moving towards them. 

“Yeah? Well how about we-”

“Absolutely not!” Rose said indignantly as Kim and Alix joined their quickly growing group. “This is a dance. It’s supposed to be romantic. And bets aren’t romantic!” 

“Thank you, Rose” Max sighed as he stopped to stand on her other side before adding under his breath, “I think.” 

“Aww, c’mon! What’s wrong with a little fun- Whoa! Juleka! I don’t think I’ve ever seen both your eyes before!” 

She couldn’t help but chuckle at how utterly Kim he was. Before she could reply to what she assumed was his attempt at a complement, Rose opened her mouth. 

“And?” Rose asked, her high voice holding an edge of danger. 

Kim’s eyes widened as they darted to Rose, in all her swirly, pink, white kitten-print glory and swallowed. “You look really pretty! I just- I wasn’t expecting you to- I mean, you never wear your hair up…” he said, tripping over himself as he tried to both clarify his compliment and appease Rose. 

She nudged Rose gently with her elbow and gave her a look before she smiled at Kim. “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself. You all do,” she added, glancing to Max and Alix as Kim puffed his chest out in pride. 

“Oh, hey Luka!”  

“Hey, Kim. Everyone” Luka said just loud enough to be heard over the music as he slipped between her and Max, shooting Max a grateful smile as the shorter boy made room for him. 

“Did you escape in one piece?” she asked.

“Escape?” Ivan asked, his brows furrowing. “From who?” 

“Damocles cornered him when we got here,” she snorted. “He wanted to know how lycée is going for him,” she added with a smirk as Luka groaned. 

“I feel like he and his sister have a bet going about me and Dingo or something. He kept asking about our science classes and showcase performances…” he said, his voice trailing off as he oh so subtly scanned the crowd around them. “So has anyone seen Marinette yet?” 

“No sign of her yet,” she murmured before gently elbowing his side and shooting him a smirk. She hadn’t called him a ‘sap’ out loud. She wasn’t that mean. Besides, she didn’t need to say it for him to get the message… 

He rolled his eyes before turning back to the conversation. He was lucky the lighting in the gym hid the pink tinge to his ears. For the most part… 

She turned back to the conversation as well, which had somehow worked its way back to Kim and Alix trying to have a competition that Rose wouldn’t outright destroy them for for having at the dance. But she only listened with half an ear, if that. Luka was there to help keep Rose in check should she decide Kim and Alix were ruining the ‘romance’ of the dance too much. 

And she had other things to worry about… 

Surreptitiously, she scanned the crowd, looking for any signs of Marinette. And crossing all her fingers that Marinette would arrive before Alya… though she wasn’t holding her breath… 

The crowd ebbed and flowed around them in a blur of coloured lights and party clothes. Their group was far enough off to the side that they weren’t being overrun by the people dancing, but they were still close enough to the action. She caught sight of Nathaniel and Marc dancing on the fringes of the dance floor. A girl in a yellow dress—similar to the one Chloe had worn— crossed her line of vision, holding a cup of punch, which only served as a reminder of one of the more harebrained schemes Alya had come up with for ‘Operation Fairytale Ball.’  The thought of the schemes left a bitter taste in her mouth, and a lead weight in the pit of her stomach. 

Things had been bad enough when she was only contending with one set of schemes… but after last night… there was no way Alya didn’t have contingency plans… 

Another song passed with anxious anticipation. And then she saw it. The unmistakeable flash or orange by the doors to the gym. 

“Alya” Rose shouted, standing up on her tip toes to be seen past Kim, “over here!” 

Whether she had actually heard Rose, or more likely, seen Rose’s glitter clutch as she waved it and Ivan and Kim’s large forms in the crowd, Alya turned in the direction of their group. And then started weaving through the crowd towards them with a determination that didn’t bode well for her plans for the night… 

“You look great, Alya!” Rose chirped once she had joined their quickly growing group. 

“Thanks,” Alya said, flashing a grin. “You all do too,” she said, smiling to all of them. But then Alya’s gaze landed on her. Alya’s hazel eyes widened in surprise for a moment, the way everyone’s had when they had first seen her with her hair up and away from her face. But then they had narrowed. And while she had still smiled at her, it was rather frigid.

And she hadn’t said anything to her, so it seemed like Alya was still dead set on the whole no talking thing.  

“I like how you did your hair,” she said to Alya. And it was true. Alya’s hair looked great. 

Alya, for her part, didn’t seem sure how to respond. On one hand, Alya still seemed determined not to talk to her, but on the other… 

“Thanks,” Alya said slowly, her face guarded. “Yours looks nice too,” she added, with just the slightest hint of suspicion detectable in her voice. But it was clear as day in her eyes. And then Alya turned to look at Luka, and her eyes widened all over again as soon as she saw what Luka was wearing. 

Alya made a strangled, chocking sound that she quickly tried to cover in a cough. 

“You ok?” Mylène asked worriedly, taking a step towards Alya to place a hand on her back. 

Alya nodded, “Fine,” she said hoarsely before blinking to do a double take at Luka. Luka blinked at her, his face shifting into something guarded, and Alya’s eyes narrowed again, her mouth setting into a grim line as her gazed flickered back to land on her. 

She should have known Alya would take his outfit choice as a sign of her ‘betrayal…’ 

Luka nudged her shoulder. “I’m going to go get something to drink. Want anything?”  His voice sounded almost tinny through the base.  

“No, but you should-“  He was gone before she could finish telling him he should wait until Marinette go there. Now that Alya was here… Marinette could show up at any time, and she didn’t like the idea of Luka going off on his own and leaving Alya with an opening. 

 “So, where’s Nino?” Kim asked, seemingly wonderfully oblivious—as usual—to everything. “We need some good song recommendations for a dance off and he’s the go to guy for that kind of stuff.” 

“He isn’t playing-”

“Well, yeah,” Kim laughed, “that’s why that other guy is up there,” Kim said as he nodded to the hired DJ. “But I’m sure we can make requests.” 

“That’s true…” Alya said, turning to Alix as she pulled her phone out of her purse “But remember-”

“I know, I know,” Alix groaned, holding up her hands. “But they’re not even here yet.” 

“Who isn’t here-” Kim started to ask. 

“Nino just texted, he and Adrien are almost here,” Alya said as she read something off her phone. 

“I know!” Alya shouted over the music.“And Marinette should be here any minute! And-“ Alya began frantically waving. “Nino and Adrien are here!”

“Do you want to dance?” Rose grabbed her hand, beaming up at her as she tugged her towards the dance floor. 

She wanted to. She really wanted to. But she also didn’t want whatever Alya had planned to go ahead. Which meant she needed to be ready for-

“Hey dudes.” Nino was grinning as he and Adrien joined their group. But then he caught her eye. His eyes widened, dnd then his gaze dropped, like he couldn’t look her in the eye. Nino had always been a bit of an open book. Subtlety wasn’t exactly his forte. 

And this all but confirmed her worst suspicions. 

He was definitely in on whatever Alya had cooked up. 

“You look great, Adrien!” Alya said. 

Adrien, who had looked morose and like he had every intention of at least half-sulking the entire evening, looked up. “Oh, thanks.” 

“Yeah, you clean up good, man! Do you think you can dance in that getup? Because Alix and I were going to- oof” 

Kim’s obvious attempts to get Adrien to join in on the impromptu dance off were quickly cut off by Rose’s elbow. 

“I probably could, but they’re not really made for that kind of dancing.” 

“Yeah, Kim. Those kinds of clothes are for dances like the waltz. You know, the romantic kinds? There’s nothing more romantic than a waltz! Just imagine, a candlelight waltz, or a waltz under the city lights,” Rose sighed dreamily. “There’s nothing that could be more romantic than that.” 

“Yeah? You really think?” Adrien asked, immediately perking up. Even after their fight, he was still concerned about that? 

“There’s Marinette!” Mylène’s voice was almost lost to the music. 

Bewilderment crossed Alya’s face. “Her dress…” 

She whirled around, tugging Rose along with her. 

Marinette wasn’t wearing green to match Adrien’s eyes, as per her prediction. And despite Alya’s suggestion—demand more like. 

“She looks gorgeous!” Beside her Rose practically swooned. “She looks like a princess!”

Marinette’s dress was simple; a sweet heart neckline and spaghetti straps, with a full and voluminous skirt made up of what looked like layer upon layer of gauzy fabric. It was a soft shade of blue, caught somewhere between summer skies and calm seas. It was the blue of where the horizon met the sea. It was the blue that lived somewhere between the shade of Luka’s eyes and Marinette’s. A simple silver pendant that looked remarkably light a floral treble cleft matched her shoes. 

And her hair was  down. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Marinette with her hair down; she always had it pulled back, even at sleepovers. But now it cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves. 

It made her look… freer. 

Rose was right. She did look like a princess. She was about to elbow Luka in the ribs when she remembered he had gone to get a drink. 

Shoot. 

“Wow, Marinette looks great!” 

Shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot. 

Now was not the time for Adrien to start noticing what he was missing out on. 

Despite her initial reaction to Marinette’s dress, or more specifically she assumed, its colour, Alya smiled smugly. “She sure does,” she said. 

“I’ve never seen her with her hair down…” 

“Maybe you should tell her to wear it down more often…” Alya suggested.  

Adrien shrugged blithely. “Maybe, but I like the pigtails. They remind me of Ladybug.” 

There is was. 

Because even with his so-called Lady standing right in front of him, he couldn’t see her, he was so blinded by the scarlet and spots. 

“Hi guys!” Marinette said a little breathlessly as she pushed through the last bit of the crowd standing between her and the rest of the group. 

“Hey,” she said, louder than she usually would so as to be heard over the pounding music. 

Marinette turned to her and the smile that had been gracing her face grew even wider. “Juleka!” she gasped before pulling her into a hug, “you look incredible! I knew that dress would be perfect for you, and the shoes and your hair!” 

“I know, right?” Rose chirped. “I think you should wear heels more often,” Rose added added as Marinette pulled away. 

“And Rose! You look fabulous! You all do!” Marinette squealed as she looked around their group, grinning at everyone. But she was also oh so very obviously looking for someone who wasn’t there. She had to fight back a grin at how transparent Marinette was. “Has anyone seen-” 

“Girl, that dress looks great on you! It really brings out your eyes!” Alya said as she pulled Marinette into a hug. Though she knew Alya had misgivings about the colour Marinette had chosen, the compliment was obviously genuine. Marinette did look incredible, and the colour of her dress made her eyes all the bluer. 

Marinette smiled at Alya as she released the hug. But there was something guarded about her smile still. The way it had been every time she had smiled around Alya the past few days. “Thanks. You look great too.” 

“I can see why this took you so long,” Mylène said as she looked at Marinette’s dress before pulling her into a hug as well, “just how many layers are there in the skirt?” 

“I lost track around seven,” Marinette laughed. “But where’s Luka?” she asked. 

“He went to go get a drink, he should be back any minute,” she replied as Rose pounced on Marinette, enveloping her in a hug. From across their little group, she caught Alya eyeing her suspiciously. 

And really? 

That was what was eliciting that look? 

What did Alya expect her to do? Ignore Marinette’s question? Did she expect all of them to ignore Marinette’s question. 

“Oh, ok-” 

“While you’re waiting for him,” Alya interrupted before turning to Adrien, “You like this song, right Adrien?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine-” 

“Why don’t you two dance? The crowd is so thick it could Luka a while to come back, plus if M. Damocles wants to talk to him again-” 

“But-” 

Another flash of yellow in the crowd caught her eye. This time, it was Chloe. 

Chloe had proven to be very effective in coming between Adrien and Marinette before… she just needed to get Chloe to notice him… 

Behind Chloe, she saw Aurore and Mireille drifting through the crowd. 

She shifted a step to the side so that she was closer to Adrien, and reached up and began to wave. “Mereille, Aurore! Over here!” she called as she continued to wave, keeping her gaze on Chloe’s ponytail. 

She hadn’t expected either of them to hear her, and evidently they hadn’t heard or seen her as they disappeared back into the crowd. But that didn’t matter. Because Chloe had noticed her. And more importantly, Chloe had noticed who was standing with her…

“Oop. Chloe incoming,” Alix said, but it was too late. 

“Adrikins! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

“Hey Chloe,” Adrien said, rather unenthusiastically. 

“Aren’t you going to compliment my dress?” Chloe asked as she looped her arm through his and began tugging him towards the dance floor. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To dance. Obviously, Césaire,” Chloe snapped before dragging Adrien off. 

She turned back to the rest of her friends as Adrien and Chloe started dancing, to find Alya glaring at her suspiciously. But she just shrugged innocently. It wasn’t like she had called Chloe over. Alya couldn’t reasonably accuse her of doing anything.

Just Alya couldn’t get mad at her for helping keep Mendeliev from finding some of the scheme…

“Hey, angel,” she said quietly, leaning down to whisper into Rose’s ear, “you and Mylène hid the flowers are under the tables right?” Rose nodded. “Mendeliev is poking around over there.” She straighten up and glanced knowingly towards the tables that had been set up for people to sit at when they needed a break from dancing. Mendeliev wasn’t exactly poking around them, but she was circulating amongst them. And Mendeliev was eagle eyed… 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rose’s eyes widen as she followed her gaze. 

“Alya! Mylène! I need a girl talk real quick!” Rose sad, grabbing them both by the arm and not waiting for a response from either of them. “I’ll be right back, bijou!” Rose called over her shoulder before saying something into Alya’s ear. 

It was hard to tell from behind, but based on the way Alya picked up the pace towards the tables, she felt safe to assume Rose had told her Mendeliev was alarmingly close to the flowers Alya, Mylène, and Rose were supposed to use for one of the schemes. Alya shot a conflicted, yet suspicious glance over her shoulder at her as she hurried towards the tables. 

“Welp,” Alix said, “I guess that means it’s time to check out the snacks.” 

“Wait!” Kim called as Alix began to saunter away, “I thought we were going to have a dance off now! Or! I bet you I can-” whatever it was that Kim had been saying was lost in the noise of the crowd and music as he disappeared after Alix, pulling Nino along with him. 

Max sighed. “I suppose I had better go make sure neither of them choke if they end up having an eating contest or something.” She shot Max a sympathetic smile before he turned and trudged after Alix and Kim. 

“C’mon,” she said to Marinette, nodding towards the end of the gymnasium the refreshment tables were set up in, “let’s go find my brother before Damocles corners him again.” Marinette nodded as she looped her arm through hers. 

Marinette’s brows twisted in confusion as she began to follow her through the crowd. “Before Damocles corners him again? What-” 

“Did you know Damocles has a twin? And that she’s the principal of Saint-Saëns?” 

“There’s two Damocles?” Marinette asked in disbelief as they began to weave through the crowd. 

“I’m afraid so.” 

“You don’t think she also dresses up Knightowl, do you?” 

“I hope not,” she laughed. “Luka hasn’t said anything about it but you never know-” 

“Jules!” She pulled Marinette to a stop as she turned in the direction of the voice. Luka was smiling apologetically at someone she recognized from the year below her as he awkwardly side stepped towards her. “I thought I had lost you Jules- Marinette.” 

She didn’t bother to hide her smile at the look on her brother’s face. She had never seen his eyes so wide. And she swore she could almost hear the sounds of his brain short-circuiting. His plastic cup clattered to the ground, thankfully spilling only a few drops as it had been almost completely empty. “You- you’re beautiful,” he said, almost reverently. 

She glanced at Marinette at the corner of her eye, even as Marinette unhooked her arm from hers to take a step towards Luka. Her smile only grew. Marinette was equally wide-eyed, and she was practically glowing. 

“Your dress, it’s incredible. I knew it would be, but… wow,” Luka laughed breathlessly. 

“Thank you,” Marinette said, almost shyly. “But Luka, your tie.” Marinette reached out as if to touch it, but stopped just short, her hand awkward  hovering a few inches from Luka’s chest.

The sap looked down to grin at the floral tie, which was the same shade of pink as his cheeks and ears, before smiling back up at Marinette. “Yeah, I-“ she watched as her brother reached up to rub the back of his neck as a bashful smile and flush crept across his face. “It made me think of you.”  

***

Phase ’And Their Eyes Will Meet’ had gone off without a hitch. 

At least, from her perspective. 

The best part was, she hadn’t had to do much. And that meant that there was no way Alya could turn around to try and pin the phase’s failure on her. Especially given she had alerted Rose to Mendeliev getting a little too close to the faux flowers for comfort. She had almost felt sorry for Adrien as Chloe dragged him off to dance with her. 

Almost. 

But knowing what she knew… yeah. She didn’t. 

Plus, it got him away from Marinette. And more importantly, Alya. 

And that had given Luka an opening. Of course, the DJ had just had to put on an XY song, which meant Luka and Marinette weren’t dancing… They were hovering by one of the walls of the gym, glasses of the saccharinely sweet punch completely forgotten in their hands as they laughed over something. Sure, they were maybe leaning a bit into wallflower territory, but they were together. 

The other good thing about them standing there by the wall was that it was relatively easy for her to keep an eye on them and the things going on around them as Rose spun her around the dance floor. She would have been more than happy to sit this song out too, to be honest. It wasn’t like any of them had a soft spot for XY. The complete opposite in fact. But even the sourness of the memory of their music being stolen wasn’t enough to dampen Rose’s spirits. She had practically begged to dance, and when had she ever been able to say no to Rose? Especially when she used her puppy eyes… 

“I can’t wait until they play a slow song!” Rose somehow both sighed and squealed as she pulled her into an enthusiastic spin. 

“Neither can I,” she chuckled, blinking as she teetered on her shoes and tried to steady herself. While she was able to keep an eye on everything from the dance floor, keeping everything she saw straight was another thing entirely with Rose leading… 

“Sorry,” Rose said, cringing as she smiled apologetically. 

She couldn’t help but smile at how unabashedly Rose was leaning into the rose-tinted romance she perceived the dance to be. “It’s ok, maybe just a little less… gusto?” 

Rose nodded brightly before tugging her a little closer, her smile dimming a little. “You’re still doing ok?” 

She blinked down at Rose. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Rose shrugged as they continued to dance. “Yesterday… it was a lot. It was a lot for me and Mylène. Heck, it was even a lot for Alix. We’ve… none of us… well, I don’t remember the last fight any of us had like that. I don’t know if we’ve ever had a fight like that before…”

“It was a lot,” she agreed, nodding slightly. 

“I know we talked it out last night, but  this morning, and during the phone call… Alya wasn’t exactly…”

“Talking to me?” she snorted. Rose nodded, and she sighed. “You and me? We’re alright. I promise,” she added, squeezing Rose’s hand. “Me and Alix and Mylène? We’re fine too. I talked with them both last night.” 

“And you and Alya?” 

She bit back a groan, but some of it still slipped into her sigh. “I don’t know where we are right now. But I know that she needs time to let it go and- what is she doing?” She craned her neck to get a better view of what she had seen over Rose’s shoulder. 

Alya was dancing with Adrien. It was very obvious that Adrien was trying to lead the two in the dance, and it was even more obvious that Alya had taken the lead. And that she was steering him right towards… 

Rose turned to look over her shoulder in the direction she was looking and sighed. “I forgot about that plan…” 

“What plan was that?” 

Rose turned back to her, and to her surprise, rolled her eyes. “It was one of the ones Alya came up with. One that we weren’t supposed to tell you about,” she added apologetically. “We tried to tell her it wouldn’t work but…” Rose’s words trailed off in a shrug. “I suppose she didn’t listen.”

That was an understatement. 

“Hey,” do you think we could maybe take a bit of a rest?” she asked as casually as she could. “I’m getting a little tired, I’m not used to wearing heels and we’ve been dancing for a while…” 

Both were true. They had been dancing for three songs now. And she wasn’t used to wearing heels. 

But that pang of guilt still lodged itself in her chest. She still wasn’t sure what the best course of action would be, with the girls. Telling them everything—well, not everything—or keeping quiet. She knew she would have to decide one way or another eventually. But today- tonight didn’t feel like the right time. 

All she was sure of, was that she needed to keep Alya away from Luka and Marinette. 

“Of course, bijou!” Rose said brightly. “I was getting hungry anyways. Want me to go grab some snacks?” 

“Sure. I’ll wait over with Mari and Luka?” she asked, nodding towards them. 

“That sounds good! I’ll bring snacks for them too, we can all rest for a bit.” 

She pecked Rose on the forehead before they parted ways. Rose heading towards the refreshment table, while she headed into what felt like what was going to turn into a storm… 

***

The music was still pounding. 

The gym was still dimly lit by the lights and the disco ball that had been pulled out from the school storage for the occasion. 

The gym still unfortunately smelled like Kim’s locker. Maybe even worse now that people had been dancing for a while, not to mention topping up their perfume and cologne in the bathroom. She had nearly choked on the clouds of clashing scents when she had ducked into the ladies room. 

And while somewhat expected, it seemed Luka and Marinette were still no closer to stopping their mutual idiocy than they had been when they had arrived at the dance. Or last week. Or last month… 

The only thing that had changed in the past hour of the dance had been… 

She narrowed her eyes as she watched Nino sling an arm around Adrien’s shoulder with a laugh. Normally, that wouldn’t be something she would even bat an eye at. Nino was just like that, always slinging an arm around his friends’ shoulders or ribbing them when joking around, or slinging an arm around Alya’s waist. For all the ways he presented himself as a chill, nonchalant kind of guy, he was actually very touchy-feely and outwardly affectionate to the people close to him. In some ways, he was quite a bit like Luka, being more than content to let things be and happen as they did. 

And he was a terrible liar. And a terrible actor. 

She wouldn’t have batted an eye at the way he had slung his arm around Adrien’s shoulder, if not for the almost mechanical way he had done it. Like it was timed, or he was overthinking it in trying to make it look casual. 

And of course, there was the fact that he had shot a not-so subtle glance at Alya where she was standing over by the refreshment table, sipping a glass of the overly sweet punch. 

She almost frowned before she remembered herself. It wouldn’t do to look suspicious; she was at a dance after all, she should look like she wasn’t trying to unravel Kwami’s only knew how many unknown convoluted schemes Alya had cooked up. She turned her attention away from Alya and back to Mylène. Or rather… at the spot just over Mylène’s head where she could see Nino and Adrien talking. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a whirl of bubblegum and serene blue. Rose and Marinette flew through her field of vision, laughing and giggling as Rose swung them in a twirling dance that wasn’t so much a dance per se as a whirling tornado of pink and blue, puffy chaos. A smile curled across her face at the sight; she had needed to take a break from dancing. She still wasn’t used to wearing heels, so there was only so much dancing she could do at a time. And Marinette had seemed disappointed to not be dancing to this song while Luka was in the bathroom trying to dry off, so of course she had no objections to Rose dancing with Marinette for a while. 

Her smile faltered. 

It had seemed like an accident… 

But she of all people should know things aren’t always what they seem. 

And it was just a little too convenient that Kim’s water had ended up all over Luka. Sure, it was easy to brush off; Kim wasn’t exactly what anyone would call observant. And he had been goofing around—as usual—when he had bumped into Nino and sent the water all over Luka’s side. But the fact that it had been water as opposed to the syrupy punch that had ended up all over Luka’s sleeve made it feel too deliberate. For all her flaws, Alya wasn’t mean. She wouldn’t stoop to completely ruining Luka’s shirt. 

And of course, there was the fact she had been Nino. That, and she had seen Alya give Nino what she assumed was meant to be a covert look a couple of minutes before it happened. 

It was just water. But it was enough Luka had ducked out to the washroom to try and dry off some of the water with paper towels and the hand dryers. 

And now…

Her gaze narrowed in on Nino and Adrien again. Nino was nodding his head towards Rose and Marinette, his movements painfully stiff and awkward looking. She couldn’t tell what he was saying from here—there was no way on earth she could hear him from that far away over the music and frustratingly, lip reading was harder than she had initially thought. But she had a hunch. 

She watched Adrien and Nino as Nino continued to talk with exaggerated motions. For her part, she nodded along as she listened to Mylène talking about her plans for the first couple of weeks of the summer break. Adrien nodded again, and Nino’s face broke out into a look of relief. 

That couldn’t be good… 

The song—one of Clara Nightingale’s recent releases—was still going, but she recognized the lines enough to know it was nearing its end. And- 

Nope. 

Adrien was walking away from Nino now, making his way through the crowd of people dancing with his usual supermodel grace.

That was not good. 

Nino was watching Adrien go as he made his way towards Rose and Marinette. 

It was definitely not good. 

And across the dance floor, Alya was also watching Adrien heading towards Marinette and Rose, grinning like the cat that had just caught the canary. 

“I’m going to go find Luka,” she said, rather abruptly if the look Mylène and Ivan gave her was anything to go by. 

“He’s probably still in the washroom though, right?” Ivan asked. 

Max pushed his glasses up his nose before nodding. “That would be the most probable answer. That cup was quite full-” 

“I said I was sorry!” Kim interjected, earning a look of good-natured ire from Max. 

“But it also doesn’t take that long to dry off a shirt. He can live with a damp sleeve and he’s missing everything.” 

“That is also a good point-” 

She shot Max a smile, and then before anyone else could protest, she slipped away from their group and began fighting her way through the fringes of the dance floor. She was sure to make a show of looking around like she was looking for someone and wasn’t really watching where she was going—lest Alya spot her and decide to make more accusations—as she made a beeline for the spot it looked like she would cross paths with Adrien. 

“Oh, excuse me- oh, hey Juleka.” 

She turned to look down at Adrien—who she was towering over even more than usual in her shoes—with feigned surprise. “Oh, Adrien. Sorry about that, I didn’t see you there.” 

Adrien shot her one of his easy, effortless, supermodel grins. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “So, are you enjoying the dance?” 

She nodded. “I am. Yeah.” Ok. This was awkward. She had been so laser-focused on intercepting Adrien before he could reach Marinette and, she assumed, ask her to dance, that she hadn’t even thought about how she was going to keep him occupied. 

And for all his obliviousness, even Adrien seemed to be picking up on the pure, tangible awkwardness that was filling the air. 

“So…” he said, letting the single word trail off. 

What was she supposed to say? What could she possibly talk to Adrien about now?

Come to think of it, what could she ever possibly talk to just Adrien about? They had nothing in common other than their teachers and classmates! 

“Are you having fun?” The words blurted out, but that was fine. That was a nice, safe, impersonal topic. 

Adrien grinned again. “Yeah, it’s great! I’m glad father let me come, it’s a lot of fun dancing with everyone. I was just on my way to ask Marinette to dance- oh, looks like Luka is back.” 

She held back a sigh of relief as she turned to look behind her where Adrien was craning his neck to see. Luka was back, and even though the song hadn’t quite ended yet it looked like Rose had released Marinette from their tornado like dance to reunite with Luka. Marinette was busy inspecting Luka’s sleeve—probably to make sure he had properly dried it or something—while the dork stood there blushing and staring at the top of Marinette’s head like a lovesick idiot. 

But a ways behind them… 

She could see Alya staring at the two. Her brows furrowed and there was the familiar gleam in her eyes, the one she always had when she was plotting and scheming… 

“…but Nino said I should try to dance with Marinette, I’m sure they won’t mind if I interrupt-”

“Why don’t we dance?” 

Did she really just say that?

Did she really just say that?

Did she really just say that? 

Why? Why? Of all the things she could ever possibly say to him, why did she have to go and say that? 

She wasn’t sure who was more surprised. Her. Or Adrien. He was staring at her, his mouth gaping open not unlike that of a fish.  And honestly? She couldn’t really blame him… 

“Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds fun.” They stood there awkwardly, looking at each other. “I guess we should…?” Adrien asked, his question trailing off. 

“Oh. Yeah. Uh…” she glanced around, trying to spot Luka and Marinette so that she could get Adrien as faraway from them as possible. The two were dancing to the upbeat song that had started playing. Marinette was glowing, she was smiling so brightly at Luka. And Luka was looking at Marinette like she was the sun, the moon, and all the stars rolled into one as he laughed at something Marinette had said. 

 Her thoughts soured as she glanced around for Alya. There was no way she wanted Adrien anywhere near them lest Alya—or Nino—find a way to interrupt.

Alya was staring at her, her eyes hard and her mouth downturned in a frown. Nino was standing beside her, looking like he was trying to placate her. But Alya looked like she was ready to do business. 

She definitely wanted Adrien away from those two, and any plots Alya cooked up on the fly, as well. 

“Let’s go over there,” she said, nodding her head to the other side of the dance floor where the crowd was thinner. Far away from Luka and Marinette. And far far away from Alya’s interference… 

Adrien nodded, and began heading in the direction she had nodded. The wove through the crowd until they were on the fringes of the far side of the dance floor, far away from any of Alya’s plots and schemes. 

Hopefully. 

Adrien turned to her with another practiced smile and placed a hand on her waist. 

She couldn’t stop herself from stepping back in surprise. 

“What are you doing?” 

Adrien’s brows furrowed. “Dancing?” 

“It isn’t really the right kind of song for that kind of dancing,” she said, nodding to the people around them who were bobbing and swaying to the fast beat of one of the other songs from Clara’s new album.  

“Oh,” Adrien said, his brows still furrowed. But then he smiled and chuckled as he ran a hand though his perfectly coiffed hair. It was such a Chat like movement she almost grimaced. “Sorry about that, guess I’m not used to school dances since father never really lets me go to them,” he said, his voice full of its usual model charm.  

“No problem.” Nodding, she began dancing, trying to ignore the awkwardness that was making it feel like she was moving her stiff limbs through jello. She was never a big dancer, but it was also never hard for her to dance. But this? This was painful. 

But at least if they were dancing they wouldn’t have to make small talk… 

Clumsily, Adrien mimicked her movements. “So…” he said again, breaking the silence between them.    

There went that small comfort… 

“You like Clara’s new album?” she asked, desperately looking for something- anything to talk about that would maybe hopefully dissipate at least some of the awkward tension. Or at least distract her long enough to get her through this song. 

Except that was a mistake. Bringing up Clara’s new album. Because it had another Ladybug song on it. Quite a few actually. And a song a lot of people were speculating was intended to be about Tigress… 

With no mention of Chat in any of the lyrics… 

Adrien’s face darkened into almost a scowl before he seemed to remember himself. “It’s fine,” he muttered before brightening marginally. “The lyrics about Ladybug’s eyes are spot on,”  he half laughed, half sighed. “She really is brilliant- Ladybug that is. Clara’s first song, the one about Ladybug and Chat Noir is still my favourite though.” 

Of course it was.

And was he- was he humming that song about Ladybug and Chat Noir? 

This was more than painful. 

“Hey, you seen Chloe recently?” 

“What?” Why would he be asking her that?

“I haven’t seen her for a while now, and I saw another girl wearing a similar dress-” 

“Last I saw her, it looked like Sabrina was trying to keep her from noticing. I think I saw Sabrina talking to the girl earlier, probably trying to convince her to change.” 

“Oh.” 

Was he seriously disappointed by that? Was he actually hoping Chloe would see the girl wearing a similar dress? Something that would almost surely end in akumatization, if not for the poor girl then for Chloe. Except, it wasn’t really surprising because of course he would. Because where there were akumas, there was Ladybug. A wave of disgust washed through her. “Why are you asking?”

Alarm passed so quickly through Adrien’s eyes she would have missed it if she hadn’t been watching for it. “Oh, you know. It seemed like there’s always an akuma at school dances.” 

“Hopefully the evening won’t come to that.” 

“Of course,” Adrien said, casting her a charming, supermodel smile that was completely repulsive. 

She nodded, trying to return his smile. It wouldn’t do her any good to try and disagree with him. But trying to smile at him made her stomach feel like it was flipping inside out. 

Thankfully, he was Adrien. He took her smile—well, her rather poor attempt at a smile—at face value. “I wonder if Ladybug likes dancing…” She ignored him as he continued to muse about whether Ladybug liked to dance and what kind of music she liked and wax poetic about her in general. 

The song was still no where close enough to being over when she caught sight of Alya and Nino. She had to bite back a groan at the sight of them. They were standing, chatting with Luka and Marinette. She had been able to keep Adrien away from those two, but she had overlooked the crucial fact that it wasn’t just Adrien she had to be worried about. If anything, he really should have been what she was least worried about. 

Alya was the mastermind of all the plots. 

Alya was the one doing her utmost best to be a wedge between Luke and Marinette. 

And she had been so stupid to get so caught up on the Adrien plots that she had overlooked the reality she was contending with. 

Still… the night wasn’t over. Maybe Alya was keeping Marinette and Luka from enjoying their time together right now, but the night was still young. And the song would be over—though not soon enough—and she could make her way back to the two idiots. She just had to grin and bear it a little longer. And at least with Adrien waxing poetic about Ladybug, she could focus on figuring out how to keep Alya away from Luka and Marinette.

[watcher-servant]

Rusted Arc dialouge lines

This took way longer than it should've, but I did it.

Side note: His 3rd Ascension is a reference to Ragna from Ragna Crimson & Guider to the eternal edge from Granblue fantasy. He is a 3 star servant coming from an event.

Also, the Witch of the Holy Night Collab is coming out for FGO, and Aoko and Soujuurou look amazing. It also applies to Alice as well, but Alice and Aoko take the cake on NPs for the event.

Summoning (pre event): Greerings, I am the rusted knight, guardian of the Ever after. What's that, a fairytale, I see so you have servants connected to stories. Well then master, what story are you trying to tell?

Summoning (post event): Well, didn't think I see you again. Glad to see you again, Master of Chaldea. Since you helped me, it makes sense I do so in return. So master what will you have this freelance knight do?

Level up 1: Oh, I felt a change, it's almost like some chains have been lifted.

Level up 2: Mastery is a journey that almost never ends. I wonder what step is this?

Level up 3: Seems I reached a new step in my journey. Don't worry I'll always be of help when you need me.

1st Ascension: This form, never thought I see this face again. I guess proper introductions are in order. My original name is Jaune Arc. Though at this point it may not mean much to anyone.

2nd ascension: Hmm no changes huh? Well that's fine, though I didn't expect to return to my 19 year old self. Though it is nice Juniper recognize me instantly.

3rd Ascension: This...what is this apperance? These scars, my hair, and yet the strangest thing is, I feel so close to my aura. I think I reached a new understanding.

4th ascension: So, this is my limit as a Pretender. It's not bad, for a time I only accepted the role as the Rusted Knight just so I can survive. Though now, I owe a lot to the original guardian, if it wasn't for them. I shudder who or what I could've become.

Battle start 1: Despite the apperance, I'm tougher than you think?

Battle start 2: Now then what plan, would work on them?

Battle start 3: Which would you prefer, sword, fist, kick or a headbutt from a stampeding animal?

Battle start 4: Let's see what I can create?

Skill 1: *drinks from a cup* Thank you *hands it to a genial gem*

Skill 2: Think you can get past my shield?

Skill 3: Focus...*Quick burst of aura*

Skill 4: Gotta remember the basics.

Attack select 1: Got it

Attack select 2: Understood

Attack select: Grit your teeth

Noble phantasm select 1: As my decree of the rusted knight

Noble phantasm select 2: So shall we hear a quick tale?

Noble phantasm select 3: Looks like we reached a crucial point.

Noble phantasm select 4: A new chapter is about to begin

Extra attack 1: Go Juniper!

Extra attack 2: Get ready to fly

Extra attack 3: I'll mow you down

Extra attack 4: Now fall!

Noble phantasm 1: After all the leasons she learned, and the friends she made and lost. Who has she become? The leaves in the tress rustle on the wind. There was one question. Who are you? [Ever After]!

Noble Phantasm 2: I hope your next journey is more kind to you. [Ever After]

Noble phantasm 3: Everyone one is in place don't worry I'll patch you right up. [Aura Amp]

Noble phantasm 4: I got your back just leave the defense to me. [Aura Amp]

Damage from phantasm: I won't fall not yet!

Defeated 1: So...this is where my journey ends

Defeated 2: Finally I can rest...I leave the rest to you.

Battle finish 1: Looks like we made it.

Battle finish 2: *Sigh* that took more than I thought

Battle finish 3: Just like that job is done.

Bond lv 1: Oh is there something you need master. Or did you come to pet Juniper?

Bond lv 2: Despite me bearing this title, there was another knight in the Ever After. The best way to describe them would be...my mentor

Bond lv 3: Won't lie I feel really out of place here. There's so many heroes around...if I was my child self. I know he would ask for a autograph...or to train them.

Bond lv 4: What? Surprised I can play guitar? I'll be honest it's been so long I didn't think I could. Guess the muscle memory remained after so long

Bond lv 5: Didn't think I reached a place Ike this. I won't lie I'm surprised I was actually summoned as a servant. Trust when I say I wasn't anyone worth remembering...though most likely it was my connection to my mentor that I ever reached here. To be honest there's probably more deserving from my world that should be here...yet here I am.

Dialogue 1: Oh hello master, you mind helping me brush Juniper? Trying to get some of this loose fur.

Dialogue 2: The master servant contract. To think you manage to hold so many, I think that speaks volumes to kind of person you are.

Dialogue 3: To think I can use and mold my aura like this. The possibilities I can do...let's try test them out master.

Dialogue 4 (Child servants): Hmm what's that? You wanna ride Juniper, I don't mind and pretty sure she doesn't mind either. You guys gotta take turns though at least 2 at a time.

Dialogue 5 (Jeanne D' Arc): Hmm there's something about her...that just makes me feel odd. It doesn't help she looks like one of my sisters. Plus her name as well...an ancestor maybe. Huh? Oh uh...it's nothing.

Dialouge 6 (Jeanne Alter): Oh its...wait somethings off. Jeanne Alter? Hmm so there are servants with counterparts. Something tells me she's really caring, despite her attitude.

Dialogue 7 (Voyager): Hmm to think I meet the original Voyager servant. So far there's only 2 of us, but I think we found good company in our current classes. Seems even Juniper took a liking to you.

Dialogue 8 (Deck of heroes reference): It's strange, I swear it was my first time fighting along side them. Yet I could feel I can trust them. A lingering trust...can't be right.

Dialogue 9 (Tamamo no Mae): Hmm, Hmm huh oh Tamamo no mae right? No, it's uh, it's nothing. No, wait, what are you? HEY!?! OH ohhhhhh

Dialogue 10 (Oberon): Fairy King Oberon or Vortigern? Either way, you wouldn't be the first liar I've been around. As you're the first pretender I'll give respect, but that doesn't mean I'll fall for your lies. Dealing with a certain cat was more than enough

Dialogue 11 (Hephaestion): Pyr...no sorry about that. You reminded me of a old comrade from long ago. It's nice to meet you Hephaestion...quick question you mind a spar?

Dialogue 12 (Tlaloc): Wait you embody a city? That's pretty cool...though a part of me is worried if the Ever After takes a servant form. No wait...the blacksmith is the closest I can think of.

Dialouge 13 (Alessandro): The grand scam artist. I'm not interested in any of your tricks

Dialouge 14 (Lady Avalon): Hmm..Lady Avalon? It's a pleasure to meet you though and if you don't mind me asking...what is Avalon like?

Dialouge 15 (Mordred): Oh its you Mordred, something you need? A sparring partner...alright then.

Dialogue 16 (Atalanta or Atalanta Alter): Oh Atalanta, I believe it's my day to watch over the kids. Don't worry me and Juniper will watch them.

Dialogue 17 (Diarmuid): Seems that curse of yours is still causing you trouble? If you want I think we can seal it for a moment. Oh it seems that's that needed. I wonder how different you fight with swords

Dialogue 18 (Medusa): Hmm, think Pegasus and Juniper might get along. I think they would and it seems she likes you as well.

Dialogue 19 (Medea): I think I see why you were hesitant with me for a while. Jason is...a bit of work. Though something tells me there's more to him

Dialogue 20 (Emiya assassin): Kiritsugu...it took some time but it looks like you find some light again. Even got a family as well.

Dialogue 21 (Frankenstein): Oh hello Fran, is there something you need. Alright I don't mind you tying my hair...no full bows though.

Dialogue 22 ( Edmond Dantes or Count of MC): It's good to see you again Lord Count. I can tell despite the change of scenery your act of guardian is still strong. If you don't mind, I want to have a chat when you have the time.

Something you like: Hmm good question, beside Juniper being on this list. I do enjoy a nice meal with people and maybe be it around campfire. That is a idea though, a nice camping trip.

Something you hate: The merciless pursuit of power...getting innocent folks involved and hurt in the exploits. Another I can't forgive...is a fallen maiden, who doesn't deserve any mercy.

About the holy grail: If I was younger I would've made a wish with the Grail. Though with my experience now...there's always a cost when using such powers.

During an Event: Sounds like something big is going on. Wanna go see what's that about?

Birthday: Your birthday? Have you already told somebody it's today? Know what, follow me. I think it's time to show how fast Juniper can run.

[bananadrinkxxx]

𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝓵 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝓵 (2)

Give me your loyalty

CHAPTER 2

[ Aemond Targaryen x female original Targaryen • fem! oc!reader]

[warnings: sex content, fights, harassment, angst, smut, domination, violence, targcest (uncle/niece)]

Only for 18+

[description: War is going on between the Blacks and the Greens and Aemma Velaryon is brought to Aemond as a prisoner.]

Masterlist for all available parts (click here)

"It seems like I killed the wrong brother."

Aemma had been afraid when she was brought to Aemond. It was difficult to keep her composure and not let it show how scared she was. Everything inside her screamed to burst into tears, as it had once when Aemond had bullied her as a child. Back then they had been a family, at least the ridiculous imitation of it, but this time they met as enemies. They were no longer uncle and niece, they were enemy and foe. She would not have expected to be in this situation once, but now here she was, facing death. Betrayed by the men who had fought by her side. If she survived this, she would smash Hugh Hammer's head with a hammer. The symbolic was beautiful. She would show him what it would mean to betray her. Arriving at Harrenhal, they immediately took her to Aemond. The place chased goose bumps over her body and brought back the memory of a man who had meant the world to her family. Harwin Strong had been murdered here and she knew it had been the Greens who had taken her father from her. Officially she was not a bastard, officially she was the daughter of Laenor Velaryon, but she knew the truth. She knew that Harwin Strong was her father. She had prepared herself to be killed immediately, maybe the same way her father did, perhaps Aemond would have her tortured or make a public execution out of her death, but she had not expected him to mock and humiliate her so.

"It seems like I killed the wrong brother."

Anger had seized her and before she knew what she was doing, she had reached for the burning wood in the fireplace. The fire burned into her skin and she threw it as fast as she could in Aemond's direction.

Only in the last second he managed to dodge before Aemma was with him and hit him in the face with both hands, which were still bound together, by the way.

She would kill him. Preferably she would kill him just as he had killed Lucerys, but that was enough for her.

Aemond stumbled, and the feeling of satisfaction spread through her.

Murderer. Honorless murderer.

"I'm going to kill you, kinslayer," she screamed, "I'm going to rip out your other eye, and stuff it in your mouth."

She swung at him again, but this time he caught her blow.

"You will burn screaming!"

"Maybe I will," Aemond confirmed, pulling her close to him. He grabbed her face and held her tightly. She hated to feel his skin on hers. She hated that she had to feel it again, his superiority over her.

She tried to free herself from his grip, but she had nothing to oppose his strength. "But I will kill your kin first, shortly after your traitorous cunt of a mother and her lickspittle of a husband are executed before your eyes."

It stabbed her right in the heart. Why did he still have such an effect on her? She suddenly felt so weak again. So lost. She remembered that one moment when she had stolen a book from the library, the history of the Targaryens, and Aemond had torn it up before her eyes.

"You are no true Targaryen!"

It had been her first confrontation with her true identity.

"Everyone out, but stay outside the door. No one comes in until I say so." The guards looked uncertainly at each other, no one seemed enthusiastic about leaving them alone. They should stay here and watch her kill the kinslayer.

"You're a traitor," she breathed, she felt tears welling up inside her. Her voice was weak. She hoped he would not notice.

"I hate you," she continued to speak. "I fucking hate you."

Liar. Liar. Liar.

"Hate is a very strong emotion, niece. So you still feel something for me? How nice," he scoffed. He brushed a strand of hair from her face.

Stop touching me, she screamed but no words left her mouth.

"It is hate. Nothing more."

She thought of glances that did not exist.

"Hate and love are close to each other."

She thought of touches that did not exist.

"I've never loved you."

She thought of kisses that did not exist.

"You're good at lying. You still want me."

"The only thing I want from you is your head."

"Gladly," Aemond laughed, leaning closer. "You can have him between your legs if you want," Aemond said, his eye on her chest, which was heaving with anger. What a treat it would be to his eye to see her naked and feel her breasts under his hands.

She thought of this moment where his body was on hers, that did not exist.

His hand came to touch her face, but she slapped it away. Aemond smiled.

None of it was allowed to exist. She had erased it from her mind, from her memories, and sent it where she would never have to think about it again.

"Fuck you."

He laughed. She wanted to scrape his laughter from his face.

"I'll leave that honor to you."

She thought of all these moments that did not exist.

Aemma contorted her face in disgust. How had she let it get this far. It had been a mistake to ever trust him.

"Why don't you just kill me and spare me your stupid chatter," Aemma hissed.

She did not want to die. But she was ready for it. She would die for her mother. She would die for her birthright. Jacaery's birthright. And she would die for revenge. She would die for Lucerys and then finally be reunited with him.

"You really think I would give up my most precious trophy just like that?" He laughed and tilted his head slightly to the side. His grip moved to the back of her neck and he pushed her head towards his.

"No, my sweet Aemma. You have a use other than your death. I would hate to see this tender skin melt by Vhagar's fire."

"No matter what you do, I will not yield."

"Oh, I hope you will. All the sweeter will be the victory."

After that, he had her taken to her chamber. To her prison, which was guarded by two guards. No one was allowed in. She was alone. Aemma didn't know if she would survive this, the chances were slim but she wouldn't bend and most of all she wouldn't go down without a fight.

"Write a letter to your mother."

Aemond placed the ink and pen in front of her. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him, unimpressed. She clasped her hands together, interlocked her fingers, and smiled smugly at Aemond.

"And why would I do that?"

Aemond returned her mirthless smile. He leaned forward. Aemma sat on the small wooden chair. It was the only seat next to the bed. In front of her was an old table that was past its prime.

"Well, let me put it this way. Your mother either doesn't seem to know you're here or doesn't care."

She knew exactly what he was trying to do.

"My mother is fighting a war, a war you started. She knows exactly where I am."

"Well then, I guess it's disinterest. I guess she's got enough bastards. There's one or two less, makes no difference."

She would like to strangle him with his own hair.

"Uncle, I hope you won't take this personally, but I wish your remaining eye would rot from your misguided thoughts in your head."

Aemond's grin disappeared from his face. He came at her faster than she could react and grabbed her. He forcibly pulled her down from the chair, making Aemma struggle to keep her balance. She tried to fight back, hitting and scratching at him, but Aemond seemed to take no notice.

Aemond grabbed her by the back of the neck and pushed her against the wall behind her. Her face pressed against the cold stone as Aemond stood behind her, his hand on the back of her neck. He pressed his body against hers.

Memories flashed through her mind. Soft legs as they wrapped around a strong body. A rising heat in her center that begged for release. His hand around her throat as he dominated her and she enjoyed it. Forbidden words whispered in her ear.

She had enjoyed it then.

Seeking the forbidden.

This time his touch disgusted her.

"Write the letter, Aemma," he hissed in her ear. "Or do I really need to remind you who's in charge?"

His manhood pressed against her buttocks. He was aroused. It had always excited him when he exercised power over her. He let his hand slide to her cunt, only her dress separated his greedy fingers from diving into her waters. Aemma felt ashamed that this situation excited her. Despite the terrible things her uncle had done.

"Remember when I could do anything to you and you begged me for more?" he asked with a moan, and Aemma narrowed her eyes. Her lips pressed together and she tried to ignore the rising heat between her legs. She could still remember everything. It had burned itself into her mind, lying over her like a constant shadow, tormenting her on the nights she longed for his touch, full of shame and disgust for herself.

"Remember when you threw your cup at me and I showed you afterwards what I do to ill-bred brats like you?"

His grip on her neck tightened. His lips slid over her exposed neck and she felt him leave a burning trail of desire.

"I just remember how you pressured me," Aemma replied coldly, and Aemond gave a snide snort. He grabbed her hair roughly and pulled her head back so she had to face him. A tingling sensation ran over her skin.

"Pressured? You seem to have something mixed up. I've treated you as befits your position."

"And what is appropriate to my position?"

"Well, let me put it this way…the genes of a whore lie in your blood."

Aemma didn't think twice. To be honest, she didn't think at all. She gathered saliva in her mouth and spat it in Aemond's face. More precisely, into his remaining eye.

He stiffened and suddenly everything was quiet. Too quiet. Her heartbeat doubled.

Aemond stroked his hand over his face. It gave her a satisfying feeling to see her saliva spread across his face.

"You shouldn't have done that."

"I should have done this a lot sooner. You're nothing but scum, Aemond," she hissed, and Aemond's grip on her hair tightened. It felt like he was lifting her scalp. "No matter how hard you try to hide it, you'll never be good enough."

"Maybe he died because of you," Aemond began suddenly, and her breath caught. He hadn't said that, had he? "Did you ever think of that, Aemma? If you hadn't interfered then, I'd still have my eye and Lucerys his life."

She didn't know what was worse, that Aemond might have been right, or that it came from the mouth of Lucerys killer, a man she had let get way too close. She had allowed him to hurt her, and she kept doing it. Even now, he had a power over her that she couldn't explain.

But she was no longer the same. The same little girl he could bully. She could fight back with the same weapons.

"I guess I wonder that as much as you wonder if your brother's son would still be alive if you hadn't been so ignorant and selfish, kinslayer."

He grabbed her neck with his other hand, his grip hard and unyielding. Her breath caught in her throat and Aemma gasped helplessly. The hand in her hair loosened and she saw Aemond raise his hand.

But she was not afraid. The times when she was afraid were over. She was a dragon and she would behave like one now.

"Come on, Aemond. Do it. I dare you," she sneered. His eyes narrowed. She saw fire in them. "Go on, show me. But it doesn't change the fact that you're no more a man now than you were then."

She didn't know what she saw in his gaze. It was anger, maybe hatred, but definitely something else.

She expected him to hit her. He had never hit her before, but this time everything was different too. He was her enemy, just as she was his.

They were destined to burn together, but Green Fire had been too greedy and had taken something that wasn't his.

So there they stood. She saw Aemond's hand tremble. She expected the pain, looked toward him, but before she could say anything else, Aemond let go of her, pushed her away from him, and wordlessly left the room. She looked after him, but he did not even turn around.

It was the middle of the night when they arrived.

Aemma had had difficulty falling asleep, how could one have a peaceful sleep in a hostile environment, but fatigue had overcome her so that her eyes had eventually closed on their own.

She had been awakened by a grip in her hair. Then by a thud, which she didn't notice until pain rippled through her body. She cried out.

"Careful, you idiot. You'll wake someone else," she heard an unfamiliar male voice and she wrenched her eyes open. There were three men standing in front of her. One had his hand buried in her hair, the other was standing over her and the last one was standing in front of the door, obviously assigned to keep watch.

"But I like it when they scream."

"Yes, and I like to keep my head."

"Who are you?" asked Aemma in a panic, but before she could react, the man who was holding her by the hair punched her in the face. Aemma immediately tasted blood.

"Shut up, bitch."

"Fuck, I said she can't have any obvious injuries."

Aemma turned to the side, groaning in pain. The blow had taken its toll. For a moment she saw stars in her mind's eye.

The other guy leaned down and stroked her hair, gently, as if he had only good things in mind.

"We have a lady here before us. A true Targaryen princess. Let's treat her accordingly."

The Man with his hand in her hair groaned in annoyance.

"I don't give a shit if she's a princess. She's just like any other cunt. So don't bug me and let me get started," he said grumbling and Aemma looked at him irritated. Her eyes snapped open. He didn't mean what she thought?

He smiled when he saw her gaze. A row of rotten teeth was exposed. It was a sickening sight. He reached for her face and squeezed her mouth.

"Don't be afraid, sweetie. I know what I'm doing. You'll like it."

She felt sick as she realized that was exactly what she was thinking.

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[dexthtoyounglings]

Definition of Peace

Cal Kestis x Reader

(Chapter Five of Defintion)

Summary: Definition of Peace: freedom from disturbance; tranquility.

Warnings: none!!

•--•

You didn't know if it was the atmosphere or the planet itself, but Cal had told Greez and Cere that we would rest on the planet for a day longer before leaving to our next destination. It didn't take anything for you to be on board with that plan. Before boarding The Mantis after returning, you swiftly removed the folded paper and tucked it into the waistband of your pants, handing back the satchel filled with goodies.

It itched your brain the whole night; the anxiety, the curiosity.

The overwhelming feeling that you had just grabbed the puzzle piece of a different puzzle. Or a piece you simply didn't want to use in the first place.

Of course you wanted to know who you were. But you felt a shock jog through you along with the anticipation - what if you didn't want to be who you were meant to What if you wanted to be the girl with her new crew that never knew her full name? The girl that would make her own when the time came. The girl that was finding herself, even if she was finding the version the universe hadn't originally intended.

You took a seat on the curved couch farthest from the opening of the ship, watching Cere come out from her respective room to see what Cal had picked up. Meanwhile, Greez had only been interested in what Cal had bought from the fruit and meat stands.

"You know how rare this stuff is? You can hardly find a nice batch of jogan fruit anywhere in Corusant! They always price it at so high," Greez grumbled, grabbing the clear cannister of jogan fruit and making towards the kitchen.

Cere took out a cloth of scrap metal Cal had salvaged from some trinkets that were laid out in an alley, looking at some of the parts with an interest that you couldn't say you reciprocated. A few loose bolts that she separated into her hand she used to pick at the scraps, curling her fingers around the parts loosely.

"Maybe you can use these to repair BD's scomp link. Would be worth a shot," Cere suggested.

"I'll check in the morning, if I start now I may never get to sleep," Cal said with a chuckle. He looked over at you, "Oh, that reminds me."

His freckled hands both dipped into the string bag that he carried on his back through the markets and pushed around some items he had purchased before pulling out a black utility belt. It seemed to clip on the side, and the opposite side had a large gun holster and few sewn-on pockets. It was brand new, all clean and untattered, making your eyes sparkle as you looked back up at Cal. You hadn't even remembered him buying it, but you remembered when he left you alone to scout. In that time, he must've seen it and quickly purchased it.

He stood in front of you with the belt in his hands. You tipped your head back, looking at the way his features were softer in the shadows away from main lights. He pushed his arms out, presenting the utility belt. Up close, there were a few loops in the front of it, allowing for things to be hung and attached.

"It's yours," Cal said, "I saw it, and I knew immediately it was yours."

You hesitantly reached both your hands out, one picking it up as if it was a fragile piece of glass. As you moved it to rest in the other palm, you ran your thumb over the rough material. Picking it up almost made you feel loved, realizing that this hadn't been something you had asked to have. Looking back up at Cal, you could only feel your body begin to go rigid and your face became wet.

Crying. You were crying again, involuntarily. "Why," your voice shook at the first word, "Why am I crying?"

You went to look over to see if Cere had any input on your emotions, but her and Greez were gone, as if they noticed your tears and left. Cal reached a hand out and touched your face, "Look at me."

You turned your head and followed his words. Cal smiled at you, rubbing away the tears with a thumb, "It happens, I think you've just been overwhelmed recently. How about we go outside for a little, there's something I want to show you."

Cal took the belt out of your hand and set it down on the cushion. Taking the cue, your body stood up straight, waiting for his next move. Your crying stopped, as if his touch and recognition of what was happening was enough to make you feel more in control. Maybe he was really what had been holding you together since you had finally started interacting with other sentients. Cal seemed to piece in the parts of the world that you didn't seem to always catch.

Taking you by the hand, Cal led you down the gangplank. You had left the ship just as the blue was draining from the sky, and replacing that was a new range of color. You watched how they danced across the horizon while waving the sun a goodbye. The sight was new, one you had never caught while lounging on Bogano. The paper felt heavy in your waistband now, but you weren't exactly ready to share it with Cal.

He sat down, pulling your arm gently to sit with him. His legs came to a criss-cross. Your own were pulled up, knees pressing to your chest as you allowed arm to hug your legs together. You kept your left arm extended to keep a grasp on Cal's hand. You didn't feel like you should let go, and Cal was making no movements to release you.

A peach color blended into a yellow, which faded into the pale blue of the sky. It was a view like no other, the fluffy clouds dusted with the reflections of pink and yellow, and orange starting to creep up on the other colors with it's intense hue. You never realized that the sky did that when the sun was setting. There was a word for what you were witnessing, but the more you begged for that word, the further away TeeZee seemed.

The silence that grew between you didn't feel as if it was filled by a thick fog, but instead was thin and content. You didn't need to speak, nor did you always want to. You felt Cal's presence through the way he watched the same sunset that you currently did. You were the first to break when it was time.

"I saw two people today," you noted.

You saw his head turn out of the corner of your eye, but you kept your watch on the sky. He was waiting for you to elaborate.

"It was two women. They were both holding hands, one of them was talking, and the other was watching her. They looked... they looked so happy. But not in..." you turned to look at him, both sharing the same gap that was once between your bodies, "not in a friend way. Not in a blood relation way. They were..."

"-in love?" Cal completed my sentence.

Your lips parted, like he had found the word but it felt foreign.

"Love?" you asked.

Cal's eyebrows ticked up slightly with the forest in his eyes deepening, like they were continuing to watch the path that was yourself. You only knew that you were getting lost in those countless trails.

"Do you know what love is?"

You paused, your eyes panning over his figure. Light-brown dots pressed into his skin and smeared across his hands a little. You mentally noted the way his nose would darken before the tips of his cheeks did, or the way his lips would go dry before his nose darkened.

You shook your head, and that rich forest suddenly got shallow, like Cal had found the right path to follow. And you were always following close behind. A blanket of silence fell over the both of you. It was like time had paused and it was just... you and Cal. You couldn't tell if the world had stopped spinning for him as well, but you hoped you weren't alone in that moment.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "It's a... difficult thing to describe. Love is when you care about someone a lot, but usually you know when you feel it."

"Have you ever been in love, Cal?"

He shifted his jaw, chewing at the skin on his bottom lip. "No. Being in love is different from loving someone."

The end of his sentence told you that he didn't know enough to answer all the questions that floated in your mind. You never put together how close in age the both of you were, young and human, still new to the universe.

A call of Cal's name made him finally look at you, seeing the way you intently stared at him. You thought maybe it would make him feel uneasy but it only pulled a smile from him. You returned it. He stood up and wiped off the back of his pants, "You can sleep in my bunk if the nightmares come back, okay?"

Your voice barely spoke up to his volume, a tiny confirmation to his question as he walked back towards The Mantis. The disappearance of his form into the ship allowed your hand to reach under your poncho and into your waistband, pulling out the crinkled paper.

They were still looking for me. They had to be looking for me. You barely convinced yourself. Unfolding the paper felt like edging yourself towards a steep cliff, trying to knock your legs out from underneath you. The name underneath the photo made you feel nauseous. The photo of your toothless grin, the first name, the ship, it all make the poster so much more real.

And there is was at last, a last name that fit you like shoes 10 sizes too big. It might have made sense at one point, but now it had no meaning, no correlation, it made no sense. You folded up the paper and shoved it back in the waistband of your pants, giving the sky your attention once more.

Maybe it made no sense to you, maybe you couldn't relate that name to anything but who you were meant to be. But you could relate it back to two people.

Your parents.

•--•

[cozyfoxy]

Mystical Paths Chapter 5

Summary: The Howells have been the proud owners of a small but famous bookstore since the 1800s. They are known for being the only shop that collects original copies of magic writings. Dan works as the bookkeeper of the shop. As the busiest season approaches, one of the most renowned magic families reaches out to the shop and offers to gift them an original Spellbook of sorts. Little did Dan know that these offers would change his life forever.

Warnings: Panic attack

Read on AO3

Chapter One

Dan grimaced at the soft buzzing in his ear. No, not buzzing, humming maybe? It was soothing for the most part, but his head was hurting, a dull rumbling ache. He sighed and moved a bit in his bed, not bothering to open his eyes to find the source of the sound. Sleep was the only thing in his mind, he wanted to sleep longer. The humming paused for only a moment before picking back up again, sounding a bit louder than before. Dan’s senses seemed to become stronger as he became more conscious. There was something cool on his forehead, it felt nice against the ache in his head. He could also smell something fruity and floral, it smelled warm and made his mouth water. He licked his dry lips quickly before willing his eyes to open.

After blinking a couple of times, everything came into focus. He was in his bed, tucked underneath his duvet like a child. Dan huffed to himself and looked out his window, the sky shrouded in grey clouds. His window was cracked, letting the cool autumn air wash away the stale air in his room. He grunted in pain as he sat up, holding the back of his head in annoyance. What happened to him? “Oh, good you’re awake.” A voice said, sounding close. Dan quickly looked around himself, feeling a bit disorientated. He didn’t see anyone. Was Phil talking to him in his head again?

“What’s happening?” the brunette asked the empty room, his voice sounding strained. “You fainted. I’m assuming you dreamed of Arthur, yes?” Phil asked calmly, walking carefully into Dan’s room. Dan blinked and shivered despite not feeling cold. He bit his lip and tried to focus his eyes on where he heard Phil’s voice, but he still saw no one. “I… how did you know that?” he heard himself whisper, whimpering at the pain in his throat. It felt like he was coming down with something. Suddenly, a hot mug of tea was in his hands. The steam floated up in his nose, helping him relax. Without overthinking it, he took a careful sip of the drink, sighing happily as its warmth coated his tender throat. It tasted heavenly, like the sweetest berries and honey.

“That tea will heal your mind, body, and soul. It’s my grandmother’s recipe, it’s always been my favorite.” Phil mumbled, watching happily as Dan’s body relaxed. “But to answer your question, I had the same reaction when I first had the dream. On the seventh of October, after my twenty-second birthday, I dreamed of James from Arthur’s viewpoint. It was terrifyingly real, and when I woke up… I realized I had a birthmark that looked a little too much like a mark that Arthur gave himself in my dream.”

Dan scowled in confusion, trying to focus on the mug of tea in his hand without any luck. Phil knew what had happened to him. Phil had to have caused this, magic wielders couldn’t be trusted after all. He quickly searched his room, still seeing no one. He was alone, talking to no one tangible. His mind was a mess of what-ifs and fear. Before Dan could fully realize what was happening to him, he began gasping for breath. His vision blurred slightly as tears burned in his eyes and his body began to ache just as much as his head. His heart pounded in his chest, sending rumbling, painful pulses through his ears. Dan shook from the inside, unable to control his tears. The mug that was clamped in his hands was suddenly gone, allowing him to wrap his arms around his knees. He remembered that he had fainted right before he was going to take a shower, he had passed out without clothes on. Yet, now he was wearing his favorite pair of sweatpants and fuzzy socks. He hadn’t done that.

“You… you saw me naked. Why ar-are you he-here?” Dan stammered through the rough sobs that tremored through his body. Phil bit his lip nervously, slowly fading into Dan’s bedroom. His heart pounded in fear, but he kneeled beside Dan’s bed anyway.

“Dan I didn’t see any part of you that I can’t see right now. I dressed you, yes, but I used my magic. I didn’t want to overstep.” Phil explained gently, “I… felt that you had fainted. Your mind just went black for a bit, it scared the hell out of me.” Dan swallowed thickly, looking to where he had heard Phil’s voice. For the first time, he saw the man behind the voice; and he couldn’t look away. It felt like time had frozen, like he and Phil were the only two people in the world. When their eyes met, it was like the sun rising over the line of the ocean, something that happened daily and would happen until the end of time.

“I…” Dan didn’t even know what he was going to say, his mind wouldn’t calm. His mouth wouldn’t cooperate with him. So, he just stared, open mouthed at the man beside him. Phil tilted his head to one side, raising an eyebrow, “I know you’re a little all over the place. You can ask me anything. I’m here to answer your questions.” he explained.

Dan swallowed thickly, nodding at Phil’s words, “Um… so, why did I dream about Arthur?”

A soft chuckle left Phil’s lips, “getting right down to business I see. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. To put it simply, we have met before, many times before actually.” “We’ve met like twice, and both times you were a fox… I sound like an idiot saying that outloud.” Dan whispered, shaking his head himself. He still couldn’t look away from Phil, no matter how hard he tried. It was like he was under a spell.

Phil smiled sheepishly and ran his fingers through his black fringe, “Well, yeah. But I’m talking about meeting in past lives Daniel. In your dream, Arthur promised to find you in another life, yes? Well… here we are.” Dan blinked slowly, his heart sinking down into his stomach. No, that couldn’t be true, could it? Past lives weren’t real. You got one life to fuck up, not multiple.

He laughed humorlessly, shooting a glare in Phil’s direction. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play here Lester, but it’s not funny. If anything, it’s just pissing me off. I hate when people try to mess with my head, I do that enough on my own. And I fucking hate magic! It does nothing but cause issues and hurt people, especially in the wrong hands. I know your family is a big deal and all, especially in the magical world, but that gives you no right to come into my life and try to manipulate me! Just get out… leave me the fuck alone.” Dan whimpered, tears burning in his eyes.

For less than a second, Phil’s blue eyes flickered to a complete yellow. It was so quick, that Dan wasn’t sure if it had been his imagination. Instead of moving away from Dan’s bed, he lifted a shaky hand to cup the younger man’s cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. He watched Dan’s shaking form wordlessly, digging through his mind for an answer to this reaction. He hadn’t expected this. “Shhh, it’s okay little dove. Please… just…” Phil sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the tip of his nose, “you may not believe me. But it’s true. The book, my journal, it can explain it better than I can. When you work again, you can read it and see.”

Dan shook his head jerkily, falling further onto his bed as sobs clawed through his chest, “I… I don’t want to go back to work! I don’t want to deal with that stupid fucking book and all of the rude customers! They look at me like I’m a fraud, they tell me my family isn’t worthy to have such a blessing from your family! I want things to go back to how they were Phil! Back when the shop was peaceful. I hate dreading going to work, when I used to look forward to it… I don’t want to go back.”

Phil froze, the realization of Dan’s feelings sending a tremor of pain through his own heart. Even the strongest people could only hold so much pressure. Dan had been holding a boulder over his head, and his arms finally snapped. How had he not realized? He thought he had prepared to save Dan from the fear, from the worry, but he failed. He had made it worse. “Oh Danny… I’m so sorry. I should've realized, but I didn’t. Look, this is an easy fix.” He explained, waving his hand in the air and mumbling a few words.

The journal appeared onto Dan’s bedside table with a small thub, making hims jump anxiously. He quickly looked into Phil’s eyes again, confusion clear on his face. His brows twisted together in a silent question. “The book has made your family plenty of money, yes? So, now it’s yours. And don’t worry, no one will remember it besides you and myself. You don’t have to dread work anymore.” Phil whispered, biting his lip tightly, a glare on his face.

“I… what? You can do that?” Dan whispered, wiping the last of his tears with the palm of his hand, “but, why? You went through all that trouble for nothing…”

Phil hummed and shook his head, “no, no. I did what I did for you. For your family. For myself. It was the best way that I could contact you, without scaring you away immediately. I know how you feel about magic, so I couldn’t exactly just appear on your doorstep and explain things to you.”

Suddenly, Phil stood up and looked towards Dan’s bedroom door, “I have to get going. I will come back if you want me to, but I really need you to read the book. Please, I just need you to understand. I need you to believe me. I… I need you.” he whispered, unable to keep his voice from breaking. “Let me know if you want me to come back.”

Dan moved to speak, but before he could, Phil had disappeared into thin air, leaving only a folded up piece of paper behind. Dan stood up on shaky legs, his mind running a million miles a minute, and he couldn’t keep up, he felt sick. He shook his head quickly and picked up the paper, unfolding it with nervous fingers.

“Dan, I was going to ask this of you while I was with you, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Until Tuesday morning, please, do not leave your home under any circumstance. I went ahead and stocked up your kitchen, so you will not need to leave for food. If you do need to leave, please, PLEASE call me. I know you might not understand, but it is for your safety and for my sanity. I wrote my number down for you so that you can text me if need be, I know you don’t like using magic for anything. The world around you will be perilous for the next few days, so stay inside. My family is keeping a lookout on your parents, they will be safe. Oh, and if anyone knocks on your door, or calls for you from outside, stay where you are and call me. Please. If nothing else, please listen to me now. I just want to protect you. I know you don’t believe what is happening, nor do you believe who we are, who I am, but I love you and I will NOT lose you again. Not this time. Much Love, Phil.

Dan closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, before adding the phone number from the paper to his phone begrudgingly. He might not trust Phil, but he didn’t trust magic even more. If Phil was warning him, then it definitely had something to do with magic. A sudden fluttering sound made Dan jump, bringing his attention to the now open journal on his bedside table. He groaned and walked over to the book weakly, looking at the title at the top of the page, “The Three Days of Darkness. Day 1, the dead come walking.”

[fanfictiongirlie]

HP: Forbidden - Chapter Six

Click here for masterlist

Parings: George Weasley x Female OC (Slytherin)

Description:

Rosalie Riddle lives in the shadow of her father, going to Hogwarts made her feel safe and happy and when she meets George Weasley she feels a whole new emotion. Follow her story from the beginning of her Hogwarts Journey.

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Can fluff be a warning? Little bit of angst. Fred still dies, sorry.

P.s. So this is a rewrite from a fanfiction I originally wrote when I was roughly 16. It was awful, truly awful, but I adored the story so I decided to rewrite it ten years later. Enjoy.

My third year at Hogwarts could not of come sooner. I spent the summer at Riddle Manor, with the Carrows, and this year they were more horrid towards me. I felt like a personal beating bag. 

Luckily my Hogwarts robes covered the remaining bruises, I had more classes this year to focus on, which I was so excited for. 

I walked into the Library, three books already in arm, most tables were full and the students weren't exactly quiet. 

Luckily I spotted a table at the very back with only one boy sitting at it. A Hufflepuff who looked a lot older than me, but his table was quiet, so I walked towards it.

I walked over and cleared my throat, he looked up at me, and I suddenly felt weak, he was beautiful, I shook the thought from my mind.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" I asked

"No, go for it" He replied, smiling wide at me, it made my stomach flutter. It was annoying, I couldn't work out why. 

I placed my books on the table and sat on the chair, I opened my Potions book and started to study the Potions for the year. 

"I'm Cedric by the way" The boy said, I looked up and he was smiling at me, and holding his hand out. I reached over to shake his hand, not releasing my sleeve showed my arm as I extended my hand. 

He suddenly grabbed my wrist and started to examine my arm. 

"Who did this to you? Are you okay?" He asked, I pulled my arm forcefully back. 

"Nothing" I mumbled.

"I have some bruise paste in my bag if you would like some?" He offered, I eyed him up, why was he being so nice? Maybe because he was a Hufflepuff and some of them can't help themselves. 

He reached into his bag and pulled out a small pot handing it to me, I nervously took it.  

"Apply that before you go to bed, and I'll make you some more if you need it" He smiled. 

"Why are you being so nice? " I asked. 

He looked confused for a second. 

"I'm just a nice person er- you never said your name" He grinned. 

"Rosalie" I answered. 

"Oh, right you're well, his daughter, right?" He asked, I nodded waiting for him to run off screaming, but he didn't, he chuckled and started to read his book once more. 

Confused, I smiled to myself and started scanning my own book again. 

_______

"How's our favourite Slytherin?" A voice asked, I turn around to see Fred and George, I actually found myself smiling when I saw their grins. 

"I'm your favourite?" I asked, I looked around to see if my friends near, I knew they wouldn't like me talking to Gryffindors. Luckily I was alone at my tree near the lake. 

"Well you're the only Slytherin we speak too" Fred smiled, they both sat in front of me and grabbed their books. Reading or studying with these two was becoming a normal thing now. 

It was relaxing. 

"Are you coming to watch our Quidditch game today?" George asked, I looked up from my book and into his eyes, I could feel my cheeks redden, why was that happening. 

"No, I think I'll pass today" I answer smiling, not able to take my eyes away from his. 

"Can't bare to watch us beat Slytherin?" Fred teased. 

I finally looked away from George, and laughed at Fred. 

"No, I just have no interest in Quidditch, I think I'll spend my time in the Library" I answer. They seemed happy enough with my answer. 

We stayed quiet for a little bit longer, until Fred jumped up and ran off, yelling something about leaving something in the Great Hall. Probably something to do with a prank. 

"Rosalie" George spoke 

"Yes George?" I answered, smiling sweetly at him, I played idly with my hair, it was getting far too long now. 

"Would you want to go with me to Hogsmeade on Saturday?" He asked, it shocked me, I hadn't even thought about Hogsmeade. I had never been. I was beyond excited. 

"I'd love too" I smiled, my entire was was completely red now. 

"Brilliant! It's a date then!" He grinned and sped off in the same direction as Fred. I hadn't moved, I felt frozen. 

A date?!

I had never been on a date, was I ready for that? I couldn't believe it, I packed up my books and things and jumped up, speeding to my common room to tell Daphne and Pansy. 

Something stopped me before I got there though, my thoughts. 

They would ridicule me for even thinking of going on a date with George, a Gryffindor and a Weasley.. Unfortunately the two things Slytherins didn't like. 

I hated it, maybe I should of been in Hufflepuff, I just wanted everyone to get along.  

I liked George though, I think. He made me smile a lot, and blush... A lot. I wasn't sure if I liked him romantically, and maybe I was overthinking this slightly, my feelings were making my head hurt. 

But I think I was excited, and I only wanted my friends to be excited for me too. 

I stepped into the common room and by the window were Daphne and Pansy giggling about something. I strolled over trying not to smile too much. 

"Can I ask you a hypothetical question?" I ask them, they both nod and turn to me. 

"If someone we knew, decided to go on a date with someone from a different house, what would you think?" I ask, nervously, I felt my palms sweating. 

"Honestly" Pansy started,  "I would be disgusted everyone from the other houses are gross" 

I frowned, I knew it.. Pansy walked off, leaving me and Daphne. 

"If it makes you happy Rosalie, go for it" She smiled at me. 

"Thank you" I whispered.

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Since I was gone so long I thought I might do a little reintroduction 🧠

Hey people I love! 🫀

My name is Colson but you can call me Col or Jinx. I was on here originally as Jinx before my Tumblr disappeared but for about two years I've been back and mostly used Col. I'm great with either 🌹

I'm a trans man, he/they 🏳️‍⚧️

I'm mostly a Yungblud and Machine Gun Kelly fan page, I do fics, updates, and pic edits but I do a little bit of everything with a lot of my life sprinkled in, sometimes including my health problems (I'm open about all of it if you ever have questions) I actually love questions and asks as long as people are nice 🖤

Just thought I'd introduce myself in case any of my mutuals are new. This is somewhat of an 18+ blog, at least leaning that way but all I mean by that is sometimes subjects are a little mature. Thank you for stopping by and I hope you enjoy! Stay a while if you want just please be respectful. I don't tolerate any racism or hate against the LGBTQIA+ or mental or physical health hate. I'm sure I'm missing something but you get the idea I'm sure. I love you all and I'm here if you need me!

-Col the Jinx 💕

🖤 Masterlist 🖤

Yes Daddy Verse/Saga of Smut

Dom x Colson

Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly

I Think I'm Okay (prequel)

5 Times Col Came in His Pants and 1 Time He Finally Made Dom Do It

Drown Out The Demons

Romcom Bullshit

Much Better Workout

Sex and Candy

Claimed in Ink and Cum

Sweet as Sin

Yes Daddy

Spoiled Princess

What Daddy Likes

Like I Love You

Reverse Cowgirl Barbie

Sex on a Stick

Baby Boy

Pure No Longer

Sext Edits

Adventures in Toyland

Full on Sex Symbol

They Felt Eternal

Their Natural State

Ride or Die

Sin on Stilettos and a Cotton Candy Soul

Crimson Coated Candy

Piss Drenched Devil

Chocolate Kisses and Golden Showers

It's a Nice Day for a White Wedding

Sin in Snow White Taffeta and Latex

Freshly Fucked and Beautifully Filthy Manhandled Marionette of a Bride

Watercolor Wet Dream Come to Life

Drifting Deep in Hopefully Wet Dreamland

Flesh to Flesh

Five Times is a flashback series in the Yes Daddy Verse, it is set between the prequel and the first chapter- Yes Daddy. I placed it all in order 🖤

Adventures in Toyland is a follow up series to the Yes Daddy Verse, I'll still list them all in order and may add to any sections at any time. Let me know if you have ideas! 🖤

It's a Nice Day for a White Wedding is a follow up series to the Yes Daddy Verse happening after Adventures in Toyland, they're all listed in order and you guessed it, the boys finally get married! 🖤

-Omegaverse AU-

Gunpowder and Watermelon

Autocorrected Anxiety Attacks and Messy Sexts

Pachyderms and Pointed Teeth

Knocked Up Knockouts and Cheesy Puns

A Little Less Sparkle, A Little More Reality

The Overwhelming Significance of Surprisingly Small Jellybeans

The Folly of Fracturing Sharp China and Soft Hearts

Fear and Lusting in London Flats

The Inevitability of Egos Clashing and Vicious Tongue Lashings

Of Sugar and Spice and Virgin Tight Asses

A Rebel's Yell and a Gangster's Paradise

Candy Hearts and Paper Cut Families

Photogenic Admissions and Confessional Panic Attacks

Little Shop of (W)horrors in a Pastel Hell

The Inescapable Moment of Truth and the Consequences of Open Black Hearts

Milk Chocolate Cherry Kisses and Birthday Wishes

Working Out the Kinks Under Hot Lights and Wanting Stares

The Taming of a Wild Boy

The Dynamics of a Bright Future and How to Reach It

Pride and Phenomenal Passion

Stereotypes and Salt in the Wound

What to Expect from an Expecting Omega

Patched Up Cuts and Mixed Up Blood

Alpha, Omega, a Nuisance, a Rebel

Lost Boy in Toyland

Starry Eyed and Punch Drunk

Mirrored Reflections and Babes from Outer Space

Believing in Love Songs and Tall Tales

Go Down Just Like Holy Mary

Piss Kinks, Morning Drinks, and Brand New Nicknames

Animated Arguments and Matching Love Languages

Screaming and Dreaming for the Future

Son of Rage and Love

Son of a Bitch and Edgar Allan Poe

Couch Confessions and Heavy Petting

Early Spawning and Other Lessons (Family Don't End With Blood)

One Flew Over the Klepto's Nest

Old Magic and Animal Aptitude

Strawberries and Cinnamon Toast

Your Body is a Wonderland

Born With Horns

In the Midst of Mild Madness

What's in a Name?

Spare the Rod Spoil the Alpha

To Cut or Not to Cut

Our Blood Got Mixed Up So I Guess We Belong to Each Other

Feels Like the Very First Time

Headboards and Scratched Tats

Best Alarm Clock

The Beasts Inside Disguised as Beauty

Popsicles and Pink Cheeks

The omegaverse AU is separate from the Yes Daddy Verse. The boys are still themselves but in an ABO world. Alpha Col and Omega Dom

-The Viking and the Fae- (an AU)

Where the Sea and Land Kiss

A Chieftain's Vow

Under the Thrall

The Long Sword's Hilt

Taste Like the Sea

Inga Knows Best

Feast Fit for a King

How the Waves Dance

The Forest Meets the Sea

The Soulmate Stalemate

The Taste of Truth and Tall Tales

The Wave Cresting

The Wave That Drowns

The Red Sea and the Viking Who Conquered It

Seal With a Kiss

A Broken Past and a Sea of Tears

The Siren's Tease and the Secrets Spilled

War and Pieces of Each Other

The Storm that Rocks the Waves

The Hush Between

Viking/Selkie AU. Separate from other fics but still Dom and Colson

[triforceangel13]

A Service to the King Ch. 16 (A Sidlink Omegaverse Story)

Chapter 16: Ticking Clock

Sidon had remained on the bed, glaring at the sight of the image of himself holding Link as the blonde nuzzled against his chest.

He hated this. He hated that he was jealous of himself.

He should have seen this coming. He knew he had done something wrong by biting Link through that channel. Sure he had bitten his own pillow but he had done something permanent regardless to the omega he fell for years ago.

And now it felt like he was watching Link being mated to someone else. It put a lot into perspective for him honestly. He didn't want anyone else to have Link. He wanted Link to be his own. He wanted Link to be his omeaga.

He knew it was the right thing to let him go. To break that bond by taking over his safe so he had a chance with an alpha that wouldn't hide him or hide being his mate.

But deep down he just wasn't able to do that. He wanted Link to be happy. With him. But then there was his own issues.

He was the king of the domain. He had a kingdom to run, people to guide. And he had a wife and a child on the way.

Breaking the bond with Yona was breaking the bond with his people and his queen. What would she do if that sort of thing were to happen?

Would she be upset? Angry? Sad?

He loved her as a sister, not I in a way that she wanted him to he supposed. They had only mated once and nothing became of it. With Link's help they were able to conceive the rightful heir to the throne and solidify his family into the kingdom.

Seperating from Yona was taking that away, or at least that's what he was leading himself to believe right now.

To make matters worse they were on a time clock with Link. The longer he stayed bonded the harder it would be to break the bond.

And it wasn't like they could keep him seperated from his sage. Link was at a risk of losing his life either way if he didn't decide vey soon.

And the princess was hounding him for an answer so much that her eyes had blazed a purple color and she had to excuse herself from the room to calm down.

He looked to Link, looking so content despite the state he had found him in when he had first arrived. It was like he didn't exist.

Closing his eyes he let out a small sigh. He had to do something. And honestly he had a feeling he would know what to do.

“Link....” Sidon said looking at the omega as he peered over at him. “Could you come here please? I need to ask you something.”

Link frowned a bit, pressing further into the sage near him.

“I don't want to,” he said. That was honestly a little not like Link. He was always so nice and never one to whine or act like this. This truly had changed him.

Perhaps it was because he was heading towards a heat? He wasn't sure. If Link were to act like this he wanted him to act like this with him and him alone.

Not a shadow of himself.

Sidon let out a small sigh, laying his arms open and then he tapped into the sage.

“Link,” he said through it. “I need you to be over there.”

He reached and laid Link in his own arms of his original body. “Send the sage away. I just want to check something. Can you do that for me?”

Link frowned at that.

“But,” he said, shifting to try to get up. Sidon held his hand up.

“Stay omega. Please.”

Link hesitated but he did as he was told, remaining in Sidon's lap. The king let out a heavy sigh. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. He was sure Link was going to fight him as he....tried to change what happened.

“Now, he is going to do things that you may not like,” Sidon said in a stern voice. “Let him. Understood omega?”

“Yes alpha...” Link sighed and frowned.

“Now I want you to dismiss the sage,” he said next.

“But then you'll be gone,” Link said quickly, a look of panic coming to his face. “I just started to feel like myself again. Please don't make me send you away.”

Sidon felt those words stab into him. Link was afraid of dying he really had to change something if he wanted to get him to relax.

“You will see me again. I promise,” Sidon declared. “Now, be a good omega and dismiss me.”

Link hesiatated but then let out a sigh, dismissing Sidon's sage. The king opened his eyes in his own body once more, letting out a small gasp and looking down to the weight in his lap.

Link eyed him a bit and glanced away. Sidon could feel his nervousness. Being a freshly marked omega and not near his alpha really did change a person.

It was a wonder how Yona never seemed to act this way. Perhaps it was because they were always near one another.

Though now he wasn't and he hoped it wasn't affecting her negatively. Perhaps this change would save his queen as well.

“Things will be come clear soon,” Sidon promised him, taking Link's hand and kissed the clawed tips slowly. Link flushed which gave Sidon's mind a little hope. Link still loved him but he was having conflicting feelings.

With a breath Sidon urged him up against his chest. Link hesitated but he did, hugging the king as he would and even exposing his marked neck to him. Sidon's eyes ran over the bite, noting it had a blue hue. His thumb reached up to rub against it, Link immediately tensing in his arms.

“It'll be okay. I promise,” Sidon said.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against Link's neck slowly. Link tensed in his arms once more, hands seeming to brace aganist his shoulders to push back.

“Sidon?” Link asked. He sounded conflicted. He sounded like he was in pain. “Please don't take away my alpha.”

“I am your alpha,” Sidon said. “But I'm changing the connection to this.”

Without another word he leaned in closer, his mouth opening. Link immedaitely pushed back, his eyes wide with fear.

“But you'll take him away,” Link said, Sidon shook his head reaching out and cupped Link's cheek.

“Link I need you to listen to me,” he said, feeling Link trembling in his arms. “I am your alpha through that sage. But we both know we can't have the sage out all the time. It could end up taking your life in the end. You don't want that do you?”

Link looked into his gold eyes and shook his head.

“Then please allow me to fix my mistake,” Sidon said. He didn't want to force him. He never wanted to force him. He just wanted to save his life.

Link's body relaxed slowly.

“Okay...” he said softly. Sidon smiled, kissing the top of his head and then leaned in once more. Link didn't fight him this time as he placed his mouth around the other bite and then bit down. Link let out a grunt in his arms, hands braced against his chest.

Sidon felt something inside of him break but a new bond form immedaitely after. Sidon let out a rumble as he felt Link's arms wrap around his body.

*

Yona let out a gasp of pain and her hand immedaitely went to her neck where her mating mark was. She blanched, looking up at Bazz who stood next to her.

They were standing before the former king, discussing some matters of where the child's nursery would be when it was born when the sudden pain had come over the queen.

“What is it?” Bazz asked softly. “Is it Sidon? Had something happened to him on his sudden journey to see the princess?”

She looked to Bazz, confusion in her eyes, tears welling up as she looked up at the king.

But a smile was on her face.

“You can speak freely Yona,” Dorephan said softly. “No one is here and you may speak what is on your mind. Anyone who let's this information out before it is ready will be held responsible and close to treason. What ails you?”

“Nothing,” She said looking to the two of them. She swallowed and moved her hand off her neck. The once vibrant mark that Sidon had left on her was now starting to fade.

“Has something happened to Sidon?” Bazz asked, the worry in his voce making the pitch rise but neither the former king or queen made note of it. “He has finally done it,” Yona said softly, taking a seat, feeling slightly light headed from the sudden rush of being released as a mate.

“I do hope he's ready for what is to come after that,” Dorephan sighed softly. “But I am glad that he is finally following his heart.”

“I don't mean to sound harsh but would someone please explain to me what is going on?” Bazz asked the two of them, bringing Yona a glass of water.

She sipped at it while thanking him quietly.

“Sidon has broken his mating bite with me. He has bitten another to claim them. I am a single omega,” she explained.

“You mean he...”

“Yes,” Dorephan continued for Yona. “It seems my son has finally chosen love over duty. He has chosen to mark them Champion Link as his mate. I'm sure Link must be marking him right now as we speak. Forming a bond.”

“My queen,” Bazz said, his eyes shining with a yearning that he only held for her. “You are happy for this change?”

“Yes and no,” she admitted softly. “I am sad that the bond is over. I do truly love Sidon but not in that way. I am also sad that it will make things more difficult in our kingdom.”

She reached for the other Zora's hand, taking it in her own and holding it close to her. Bazz smiled softly at her.

“But I am glad that he is with the one he wishes,” she said. “It was painfully obvious that he was in love with Link. I just wish he had spoken to me about it rather than leave things as they were.”

“You two must have a discussion when he returns,” Dorephan urged. “For now we tell no one of what has happened.”

“Yes of course,” Yona said softly, wiping a tear from her eyes. She waved away Bazz's concern and then stood up, cradling the egg that was in a piece of cloth attatched to her chest to keep it close.

“Then we should also keep secret about that as well,” Bazz said which had Yona freezing.

“Yona,” Dorephan said with a scowl. “What does he mean about the egg?”

“I...” she said and flushed soon taking Bzz's hand who looked like he had seen a ghost. He had screwed up. Big time.

“The...egg doesn't belong to Sidon. Even with Link's help with what he had done, it was no help at all for me to conceive an heir,” she said softly.

She looked shameful and ready to cry even harder. This was her biggest secret and now she had to reveal it to the former king.

“The father is Bazz.”

I’m open for written commissions

want to support? my patreon (triforceangel)

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[flowerznleaves]

Jagiya | sooshu

Masterlist | Next

a/n: I have been working on this fic for way longer than I would like to admit. This was originally going to be told in 3 parts, but I wrote wayyyyy too much and decided to split it into 6. These first 2 chapters are before the relationship, told through short snippets behind the scenes of what we see online. It is a blossoming of their love!

Pairing: sooshu | soojin x shuhua

>wc: 13.7k

sypnosis: From their early days in the industry, Soojin has always been a pillar of support for the younger Shuhua, guiding her through the challenges of their demanding careers. Over time, this bond deepens into something more, with both girls harboring secret feelings for each other. After risking everything to be together, these girls come to the realization that love alone isn't enough to overcome the challenges they face, and sometimes leaving is the best way to mend a broken heart.

(The beginning, middle, and end of Sooshu)

Soojin's talent was as bright as her smile, effortlessly captivating everyone around her with her silky voice that enraptured all and graceful dance moves. Growing up, she had always been the star of the show, dazzling friends and family alike. Her passion for performing had always been her guiding light, and her determination to succeed was unwavering.

As a trainee at Cube, Soojin poured her heart and soul into her craft, determined to share her gifts with the world. Even on the toughest days, she never lost sight of her dreams, always grateful for the opportunity to pursue her passion. The training process was grueling—endless hours of practice, nerve-wracking monthly evaluations, and moments of doubt and frustration—but Soojin faced them with resilience and a positive attitude, knowing that every stumble was just a step closer to success.

In the intimate confines of the vocal room, Soojin found herself enveloped in the soothing lull of music, her thoughts drifting in the melody that surrounded her. The room was a sanctuary, a place where she could lose herself in the rhythm and let go of her worries. Lost in her own world, she was taken aback when the door creaked open, and a stranger slipped into the room, settling beside her without a word.

Blinking in surprise, Soojin glanced up at the newcomer, her curiosity piqued but her guard up. Who was this person, and why had they chosen to sit next to her in the serenity of the vocal room?

"Why?" Soojin greeted tentatively, her voice a cautious melody in the stillness.

The stranger turned to look at her, her gaze filled with an enigmatic blend of uncertainty and determination. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate, as if searching for the right words to say.

"I... no Korean," the stranger confessed softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Soojin felt a flicker of confusion at the stranger's cryptic words, her mind racing with questions.

"Why?" Soojin asked again, this time in English, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “Have we met before?”

The stranger shook her head, a shy smile playing on her lips. "No, we've never met," she admitted, her gaze flickering with a mixture of nerves and longing. "But...I did not want…to sit alone."

Soojin's confusion only deepened at the stranger's cryptic confession, but something in her earnest expression touched her heart. Despite the uncertainty of the situation, she couldn't help but feel a sense of connection with this mysterious newcomer.

"Well, um, I'm Soojin," she offered tentatively, extending her hand in greeting.

The stranger smiled, her eyes lighting up with warmth as she reached out to shake Soojin's hand. "I'm Shuhua," she replied softly, her voice a gentle melody in the quiet room.

Soojin offered a shy smile, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Nice to meet you, Shuhua," she murmured, her words coming out in a rushed whisper.

Shuhua returned the smile, a hint of gratitude shining in her eyes. "Nice to meet you too, Soojin," she said softly.

For a moment, they sat in awkward silence, their shy smiles fading into uncertainty. But as Soojin stole a glance at Shuhua, she saw a flicker of hesitation in her eyes—a silent plea for connection that mirrored her own.

Soojin couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of the situation—two shy girls, sitting in a quiet vocal room, trying to communicate with nothing but awkward gestures and broken sentences. It was almost laughable.

As they continued to chat, Soojin noticed the language barrier between them, but she refused to let it dampen their budding friendship. With gestures and simple words, they found a way to communicate.

"So, um, where are you from, Shuhua?" Soojin asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she shifted nervously, her curiosity peeking through her shy demeanor.

Shuhua hesitated, her gaze darting around as if searching for an escape. "I... I'm from Taiwan," she replied, her words barely audible, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Soojin felt a pang of sympathy for the timid girl before her. "Taiwan? That's, uh, really interesting," she murmured, her own cheeks coloring slightly as she leaned in, trying to convey her genuine interest.

Shuhua nodded, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Y-yes, it's... it's nice," she stammered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Soojin couldn't help but admire Shuhua's quiet determination. "You should be proud of where you're from," she offered softly, hoping to encourage the shy girl.

Shuhua bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the ground. "Th-thank you," she mumbled shyly, a small smile playing on her lips.

As the conversation continued, Soojin couldn't help but notice how Shuhua seemed to shrink into herself, her shy nature making her seem almost fragile. But despite her reserved demeanor, Soojin sensed a depth to her new friend that intrigued her.

When Shuhua finally asked about Soojin's own background, Soojin couldn't help but feel a rush of nerves. "I-I'm from Gyeonggi, here in Korea," she confessed quietly, her eyes darting away.

Shuhua nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Ah, I... don’t really understand," she remarked softly, a shy smile playing on her lips.

Soojin nodded, feeling a sense of kinship with the quiet girl beside her. "But that's okay, right? We can take it slow," she replied, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

A tentative smile tugged at Shuhua's lips, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Yes, I-I suppose you're right," she agreed softly, her shyness melting away ever so slightly.

As the music continued to play muffled in the background, Soojin and Shuhua sat together in companionable silence, the air tinged with a sense of curiosity and anticipation.

Soojin glanced at Shuhua, noting the hesitance in her demeanor. "Would you like me to teach you some Korean?" she offered a warm smile playing on her lips.

Shuhua's eyes lit up with excitement at the suggestion, a grateful nod signaling her eagerness to learn. "Yes, please," she replied eagerly, her voice tinged with enthusiasm.

With patient guidance, Soojin began to teach Shuhua the basics of the Korean language, starting with simple words and phrases. Shuhua listened attentively, repeating the words after Soojin with determination and focus.

Soojin chuckled softly at Shuhua's eagerness, feeling a sense of joy at the opportunity to share her language with her new friend. "Okay, let's start with the chorus," she said, her voice gentle as she began to sing the melody.

Shuhua listened intently, her brow furrowing in concentration as she tried to mimic Soojin's pronunciation. "Like this?" she asked tentatively, her voice uncertain but determined.

Soojin nodded encouragingly, a proud smile spreading across her face. "That's perfect, Shuhua! You're a natural," she praised, her words filled with genuine admiration.

As they continued to practice, Soojin guided Shuhua through each line of the song, patiently correcting her pronunciation and celebrating her progress. They found a rhythm and flow in their learning, their shared passion for music bringing them closer together.

By the end of their session, Shuhua was beaming with pride, her confidence visibly growing with each word she learned. "Thank you, Soojin," she said gratefully, her eyes shining with gratitude.

Soojin smiled warmly at Shuhua, a sense of fulfillment washing over her. "You're welcome, Shuhua. I'm glad I could help," she replied sincerely.

As they prepared to leave the vocal room, Soojin felt a pang of reluctance to part ways with Shuhua. Despite only just meeting, she already found herself drawn to Shuhua's gentle spirit and quiet determination.

"Hey, um, do you want to hang out sometime?" Soojin asked hesitantly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the sudden burst of courage.

Shuhua's eyes lit up with excitement at the invitation, her smile radiant. "I would love to," she replied eagerly, her enthusiasm contagious.

With plans to meet up after their respective schedules allowed, Soojin and Shuhua parted ways, each feeling a sense of anticipation for the budding friendship that lay ahead.

As Soojin made her way back to her dorm, her thoughts lingered on Shuhua, a smile playing on her lips as she thought about the younger girl.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

As the music gently faded, marking the end of a long session of private teaching one day, Soojin's cheeks flushed with warmth as she looked at Shuhua, her heart swelling with pride. "You were... you were really incredible, Shuhua," she murmured softly, her voice tinged with shy admiration.

Shuhua blinked, her expression puzzled as she tried to decipher Soojin's words. She shook her head slightly, indicating that she didn't understand.

"I mean, you've improved so much since we started practicing together," Soojin continued, her words stumbling over each other as she struggled to express herself without a shared language. "Your movements are more... more graceful now, and you seem... seem more confident."

Shuhua's brow furrowed in confusion, unable to grasp the meaning behind Soojin's gestures and tone. But she could see the sincerity in Soojin's eyes, and a small smile tugged at her lips . Soojin returned her smile, a shy but genuine warmth spreading through her chest. "No, really, I mean it," she insisted, gesturing emphatically to convey her admiration for Shuhua's progress.

Over the next few months, Soojin and Shuhua's friendship continued to grow. They spent countless hours practicing together, sharing their hopes and fears, and supporting each other through the ups and downs of trainee life. Their bond became a source of strength and inspiration for both of them, a reminder that they were never alone in their journey.

When the time finally came for Soojin to debut with (G)I-DLE, she knew she had Shuhua and her fellow members by her side, ready to take on the world with a smile on their faces. Their debut was a whirlwind of excitement and challenges, but Soojin faced it all with confidence, knowing that she had the unwavering support of her friends.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Excitement bubbled within the members as they stepped into their shared dormitory for the first time. The space was cozy yet vibrant, with two rooms divided by a central living area. The living room had a comfortable couch and a small table, the walls adorned with colorful patterns that exuded warmth. Each room boasted two bunk beds, offering a snug haven for the girls.

Miyeon, the newest addition to the group, looked around with wide eyes, taking in her surroundings with a mixture of awe and nervousness. She had only recently joined Cube and was still finding her place among the members. Her hesitation was evident in the way she clutched her bag, fingers trembling slightly.

Shuhua, ever the social butterfly, bounded into the room with boundless energy, her excitement contagious. "Wow, it's so cute! I love it!" Her voice echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls like her enthusiasm. She twirled around, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Yuqi, her fellow Mandarin-speaking friend, grinned in agreement, her dimples deepening. "Yeah, it's awesome! I can't wait to start decorating." She glanced at the walls, already envisioning where her favorite posters would go.

Soyeon, the group's leader, surveyed the room with a sense of determination, already planning the logistics of their living arrangements. Her eyes scanned every corner, mentally organizing their space. "Alright, let's divide into rooms. Shuhua, Yuqi, Miyeon, and I will take one room, and Minnie and Soojin can take the other."

Minnie smiled warmly, nodding in agreement. "Sounds good, Soyeon. Let's get settled in, everyone." Her voice was calm and reassuring, a steady anchor in the sea of excitement.

As they began to claim their bunk beds, Shuhua's eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked over at Soojin. "Soojin-unnie, let's share a room! It'll be so much fun!" Her voice was full of hopeful anticipation, her body practically bouncing with excitement.

Soojin hesitated, unsure how to respond to Shuhua's bold suggestion. "Um... I'm not sure, Shuhua. Maybe we should stick to the original plan..." Her voice was soft, tinged with uncertainty, as she glanced around, looking for support.

But Shuhua was undeterred, her determination shining through her wide, pleading eyes. "Please, Soojin-unnie! It'll be like a sleepover every night!" She clasped her hands together, her face the picture of eager innocence.

Soojin couldn't help but smile at Shuhua's enthusiasm, despite her reservations. "Alright, Shuhua. We can share a room." Her voice was resigned but affectionate, her smile small but genuine.

Shuhua's face lit up with joy, and she practically skipped over to the bunk beds, claiming the bottom bunk beside Soojin's. Her laughter filled the room, a melodic sound that made everyone else smile.

As the members unpacked their belongings and settled into their bunk beds, the dormitory buzzed with excitement and laughter. Shuhua flitted around the room, her enthusiasm contagious. She opened her suitcase, pulling out various trinkets and photos.

"Let's decorate our space with photos and posters! It'll feel like home in no time!" Shuhua exclaimed, already rummaging through her bag for her favorite pictures. Her eyes shone with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning.

Minnie nodded in agreement, a smile gracing her lips. "Great idea, Shuhua! We can make this place feel cozy." Her voice was warm, and she started unpacking her own decorations.

Soojin couldn't help but admire Shuhua's enthusiasm, her own worries momentarily forgotten in the excitement of their new surroundings. She watched as Shuhua darted around the room, hanging pictures and chatting animatedly with the others.

With Shuhua's guidance, the members set to work, adorning the walls with snapshots of their fondest memories and posters of their favorite artists. As they worked together, a sense of warmth filled the room, bonding them closer as a group. Laughter and friendly banter echoed in the small space, making it feel more like home.

Shuhua turned to Soojin with a bright smile, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Soojin-unnie, did you know your eyes sparkle like stars? So pretty!" Her voice was sweet and sincere, her smile radiant.

Soojin's cheeks flushed deeper, her discomfort evident. She looked away, fiddling with the corner of a poster. "Um... thank you, Shuhua. That's kind of you." Her voice was soft, almost embarrassed, as she tried to downplay the compliment.

Shuhua beamed, oblivious to Soojin's unease. "I'm just telling the truth!" She grabbed another photo, pinning it up on the wall with a flourish.

Soojin couldn't shake her discomfort with Shuhua's flirtatious comments, but the younger girl's enthusiasm was hard to resist. The room gradually transformed into a cozy, personalized haven, filled with memories and aspirations, as the girls worked together to make it their own.

With their belongings finally unpacked, the members decided to tackle the task of making dinner together. They moved to the small kitchen, which was cozy and well-equipped, with beige cabinets and a sleek countertop.

Soojin, usually more reserved in group settings, felt a surge of anxiety as she contemplated taking charge of cooking for the group. Cooking was something she enjoyed, but the thought of being the center of attention made her stomach churn. She glanced around the kitchen, her fingers nervously tapping the countertop.

As Soojin hesitated, Minnie stepped forward with a reassuring smile, her presence calm and steady. "Why don't you make us some seaweed soup, Soojin? I know you're good at it." Her voice was soothing, her confidence in Soojin evident.

Soojin nodded hesitantly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Um... okay. I can do that." Her voice was barely above a whisper, her heart pounding in her chest.

Shuhua, always eager to inject some excitement into the moment, bounded over to Soojin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You're going to be amazing, Soojin-unnie! I can't wait to taste your cooking." Her energy was infectious, her grin wide and sincere.

Soojin's cheeks flushed even deeper at Shuhua's enthusiastic praise, her shy nature making her uncomfortable with the attention. "Th-thank you, Shuhua." She began gathering ingredients, her hands slightly trembling.

As Soojin set to work preparing the ingredients for the soup, Shuhua couldn't resist teasing her, her flirtatious comments catching everyone off guard. "You're always taking such good care of us, Soojin-unnie. It's one of the things I love about you," Shuhua remarked, her tone light but the implications clear.

Soojin's heart skipped a beat at Shuhua's words, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she struggled to find a response. "Oh... um, thank you, Shuhua. I-I'm just... doing what I can." She stirred the soup, focusing intently on the task at hand to hide her discomfort.

Minnie and the others exchanged surprised glances, unsure how to react to the unexpected flirtation between Soojin and Shuhua. Sensing the tension, they quickly tried to shift the conversation back to safer topics.

"So, uh, who's ready to play a game while we wait for dinner?" Yuqi suggested, her voice a bit too cheerful as she attempted to diffuse the awkwardness. She flashed a bright smile, trying to lighten the mood.

As they engaged in small talk and lighthearted banter, Soojin couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort that lingered in the air. Though she appreciated Shuhua's attempt at closeness, she couldn't help but wish for a bit more subtlety in her expressions of affection.

As dinner simmered on the stove, the delicious aroma of Soojin's seaweed soup filled the dormitory, making their mouths water.

Minnie suggested a game to lighten the mood. "Why don't we play a get-to-know-you game while we eat? It'll be fun!" Her voice was gentle and encouraging, her smile warm.

Yuqi's eyes lit up with excitement. "That sounds like a great idea! What game should we play?" Her enthusiasm was palpable, her grin wide.

Soyeon chimed in with a suggestion. "How about we go around the table and each share something interesting about ourselves?" Her voice was calm and authoritative, guiding the group.

The others nodded in agreement, eager to learn more about their new roommates. Soojin, though hesitant at first, found herself drawn into the game, her shyness momentarily forgotten as she listened to her fellow members' stories.

Yuqi eagerly kicked off the game with a playful smile. "Okay, I'll start! Did you know that I'm a magician? My father taught me when I was just three years old!" She wiggled her fingers dramatically, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

The members exchanged skeptical glances, stifling giggles at the absurdity of Yuqi's claim.

"Come on, Yuqi, you expect us to believe that?" Minnie teased, a smirk playing on her lips as she arched an eyebrow.

Yuqi pouted, feigning offense. "Yah, it's true! I'm just so talented that none of you can handle it." She crossed her arms, trying to maintain her mock indignation.

Soyeon rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Sure, Yuqi. Whatever you say. Who's next?" Her tone was light, amused by the exchange.

As they went around the table, each member shared a piece of themselves, from Miyeon's inability to wake up to an alarm clock to Minnie's hidden talent for whistling. Soojin, though initially apprehensive, found herself opening up as well, sharing that she used to be a jazz dancer in her youth. Her voice grew stronger with each word, her confidence slowly building.

As the game continued, the awkwardness from earlier began to fade, replaced by a sense of belonging. Miyeon soon proposed the idea of watching a movie together. The suggestion was met with enthusiastic agreement from the group, eager for some downtime after a busy day of unpacking and bonding.

"I have a great movie we can watch!" Miyeon exclaimed, already retrieving a remote and heading toward the small TV in the corner of their cozy living room. "It's a classic romantic comedy. I thought it would be perfect for us." Her excitement was contagious, her eyes shining with anticipation.

The members gathered around the couch, which was just big enough for four people to sit comfortably. Minnie, Soojin, Shuhua, and Miyeon squeezed onto the couch, leaving no space for Yuqi and Soyeon.

Yuqi and Soyeon, undeterred, settled on the floor next to each other, leaning back against the couch. "This is perfect," Yuqi said, grinning as she made herself comfortable. "We've got the best seats in the house."

Soyeon nodded in agreement, her expression relaxed. "Yeah, we can stretch our legs here," she said with a smirk, extending her legs out in front of her.

Soojin found herself settling in between Minnie and Shuhua, feeling a mix of nerves and discomfort at the prospect of sitting so close to Shuhua. The warm glow of the TV illuminated their faces, casting a cozy ambiance in the room.

But before she could protest, Shuhua had already draped an arm around Soojin's shoulders, pulling her close with a playful grin. Soojin stiffened at the unexpected contact, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but Shuhua seemed oblivious to her discomfort.

"Isn't this cozy, Soojin-unnie?" Shuhua whispered, her breath tickling Soojin's ear. "I love movie nights with you." Her voice was soft and affectionate, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Soojin's heart skipped a beat at Shuhua's words, her nerves intensifying as she struggled to respond. "Um... y-yeah, it's nice." Her voice was barely audible, her face burning with embarrassment.

As the movie began to play, Soojin found it increasingly difficult to focus on the screen. Shuhua's close proximity, coupled with her whispered declarations of affection, left Soojin feeling flustered and uneasy. The light from the screen flickered across their faces, casting shadows that danced in the dim room.

Despite her discomfort, Soojin couldn't bring herself to pull away from Shuhua, not wanting to hurt her feelings. But with each passing moment, the weight of Shuhua's feelings pressed down on her, leaving her feeling suffocated. The tension in the room was palpable, a silent current that everyone seemed to feel but not acknowledge.

As the credits rolled and the movie came to an end, Soojin seized the opportunity to extricate herself from Shuhua's embrace, mumbling something about needing to use the restroom before retreating to the safety of her bunk bed. The cool air of the room hit her flushed cheeks, a welcome relief as she tried to steady her racing heart.

She lay in her bunk, staring at the ceiling, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The dorm, once filled with excitement and laughter, now felt like a maze of unspoken feelings and uncertainties. Soojin knew she had to navigate these complexities carefully, not just for her own sake, but for the harmony of the group as well.

Though she appreciated Shuhua's affection, she couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at her heart. She knew she needed to confront her feelings, but the thought of hurting Shuhua was a weight she wasn't sure she could bear. The pressure of maintaining harmony within the group and her own inner turmoil left her feeling trapped and restless.

Amidst the tranquility of the night, a soft whimper caught Soojin's attention. Turning her head downwards, she saw Shuhua curled up in her bunk bed, tears glistening in the moonlight that streamed through the small window. Shuhua's shoulders shook with silent sobs, and her usually bright eyes were now shadowed with sorrow.

Concern flooded Soojin's heart as she quietly approached Shuhua's bunk, making sure to quietly head down the ladder so as to not wake the other girls across the room. "Shuhua, are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice gentle yet tinged with worry.

Shuhua, startled by Soojin's presence, hastily wiped away her tears, offering a shaky smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm fine, Soojin-unnie. Just... homesick, I guess."

Soojin's heart ached at Shuhua's admission, her own feelings of homesickness resonating deeply. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on Shuhua's shoulder. "I understand, Shuhua. It's hard being away from home, especially in a new place."

Shuhua nodded, her shoulders trembling with suppressed emotion. "Yeah... it's just... everything feels so different here," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

Soojin hesitated for a moment before tentatively suggesting, "Would you... like some company? Maybe it'll help."

Shuhua's eyes widened in surprise, gratitude shining in her gaze. "I-I would like that, Soojin-unnie. Thank you," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of relief and vulnerability.

With a shy smile, Soojin climbed into Shuhua's bunk bed, the mattress creaking slightly under their combined weight. The small, enclosed space felt intimate, the closeness magnifying the comfort of each other's presence. They lay side by side in silence, the weight of their shared homesickness hanging heavy in the air, but also a sense of solace in their mutual understanding.

After a few moments, Shuhua spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I miss my family... and my friends. And speaking Mandarin... it's hard to express myself sometimes," she confessed, her words laced with longing and frustration.

Soojin nodded in understanding, her own struggles with the language barrier echoing Shuhua's sentiments. "I know what you mean, Shuhua. It's hard to find the right words sometimes," she agreed softly, her voice a soothing balm in the stillness of the night.

They lapsed into silence once more, the only sound the steady rhythm of their breathing. But despite the language barrier, a sense of understanding and comfort blossomed between them, bridging the gap between their differences. The silence was not oppressive, but rather filled with unspoken empathy and a shared sense of resilience.

Shuhua's voice was thick with sleep, her eyelids fluttering shut as she murmured, "Thank you, Soojin-unnie. It means a lot to me."

Soojin watched as Shuhua's breathing became deep and even, her body relaxing in sleep. With a soft smile, Soojin pulled the blankets up to Shuhua's shoulders and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead, a gesture of quiet affection and reassurance. She then leaned back and rested her head on the pillow, her mind still buzzing with thoughts.

As she lay there, Soojin reflected on the complexities of her feelings and the depth of their friendship. The night was quiet around them, the soft hum of the city outside mingling with the whispers of their dreams.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The tension in the dormitory was palpable as their debut loomed closer with each passing day. Soojin found herself consumed by a whirlwind of emotions, her heart heavy with the weight of an impending confession she knew she couldn't delay any longer. The air was thick with anticipation, each member caught in their own web of nerves and excitement, but for Soojin, a more personal storm was brewing.

As she watched Shuhua flit around the room, her infectious laughter filling the air, Soojin's resolve hardened. Shuhua's carefree nature, her bright smile, and her boundless energy were captivating. But behind every laugh, Soojin felt the gnawing guilt and the urgent need to be truthful. It was time to confront Shuhua, to lay bare the truth and face whatever consequences awaited her.

Summoning her courage, Soojin approached Shuhua, her voice barely above a whisper. "Shuhua, can we talk? Alone?"

Shuhua's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded, her curiosity evident. "Of course, Jin. What's on your mind?"

Leading Shuhua into their shared room, Soojin closed the door behind them, her heart pounding with nervous anticipation. This was it. The moment of truth. The small room felt even smaller with the weight of her words hanging in the air.

Taking a deep breath, Soojin turned to face Shuhua, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Shuhua, I... I need to be honest with you. I know you have feelings for me, but... I don't feel the same way. And... and you're only seventeen, Shuhua. I'm not sure if it's... if it's right for us to be... like this."

Shuhua's expression softened, her eyes brimming with understanding. "I understand, Soojin-unnie. And... and I'll wait for you. I'm sure that one day, you'll see me the way I see you."

Soojin's heart clenched at Shuhua's words, her guilt weighing heavily on her shoulders. She didn't deserve Shuhua's unwavering devotion, especially when she couldn't return her feelings in kind. The sincerity in Shuhua's eyes only deepened her internal conflict.

"I'm sorry, Shuhua," Soojin whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I... I don't want to hurt you."

But Shuhua shook her head, her smile gentle and reassuring despite the tears brimming in her eyes. "You could never hurt me, Soojin-unnie." She said with a quiet strength, “I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Before Soojin could respond, Shuhua leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. Soojin felt a rush of conflicting emotions surge within her. There was warmth in Shuhua's affection, a reassurance that transcended their unspoken words, yet Soojin couldn't shake the uncertainty that lingered in the depths of her heart.

As Shuhua pulled away, her gaze unwavering, Soojin found herself at a loss for words. The confidence with which Shuhua had just expressed her feelings left Soojin baffled, her own insecurities laid bare in the face of Shuhua's unwavering resolve.

"Thank you, Soojin-unnie," Shuhua said softly, her voice filled with sincerity. "For being honest with me. I'll give you the time you need."

With a gentle smile, Shuhua turned and left the room, leaving Soojin alone with her thoughts. As the door closed behind her, Soojin couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for Shuhua's unwavering confidence, her own uncertainties momentarily overshadowed by the strength of Shuhua's conviction. But as she sank onto her bunk bed, the weight of her decision settled upon her shoulders, the reality of her feelings and the consequences of her actions looming large in her mind.

Soojin was certain this girl was going to be the death of her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Excitement crackled in the air of the bustling dressing room as the newly formed group readied themselves for the live performance of their first mini album. The six members had meticulously prepared for the imminent concert. Amidst the flurry of activity, Shuhua, with her boundless energy, gravitated towards Soojin, her eagerness palpable.

"Are you almost ready, Soojin?" Shuhua whispered, her eyes alight with anticipation. Soojin nodded, offering a faint smile. "Just finishing up."

Soyeon teased Shuhua with a playful smile on her face. "Shuhua, are you bothering Soojin again?"

Flushed with embarrassment, Shuhua hastily denied the accusation. "No, I'm not!"

Yuqi joined the playful banter. "Sure looks like it."

Soojin chuckled softly, appreciating the light-hearted atmosphere. But before she could fully relax, Shuhua surprised her by stealing a quick kiss on her cheek.

"There! Now you're ready to rock the stage!" Shuhua declared, mischief dancing in her eyes.

Soojin's cheeks flamed with embarrassment as she tried to compose herself. But in her attempt to do so, she accidentally moved her face, causing their lips to meet in an unexpected kiss.

A hushed silence fell over the room as Soojin and Shuhua's eyes widened in shock. Time seemed to stand still as they lingered in the moment, their lips touching in a gentle, unplanned embrace.

Minnie, momentarily forgotten, looked up from the snacks, her eyes widening in surprise. "Um... Did I miss something?" Minnie's bewildered inquiry hung in the air.

Amidst the stunned silence, Miyeon chuckled softly. "Looks like there was a little mix-up."

Soyeon, with a knowing grin, added, "Well, that's one way to break the tension."

Giggling nervously, Shuhua attempted to diffuse the situation. "I-I'm sorry, Soojin! I didn't mean to—"

Soojin shook her head, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "It's okay, Shuhua. Accidents happen." Despite her best efforts, Soojin's words rang hollow. She could feel the warmth radiating from her face as she averted her gaze, her thoughts a jumbled mess.

As the others laughed and joked about the incident, Shuhua's expression fell, her heart heavy with disappointment. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Her feelings weren't supposed to be a joke. In a matter of moments, their carefully crafted facade crumbled, revealing the true nature of their relationship.

As the group finished up their preparations, the manager walked into the dressing room. "Hey, are you girls ready?" The manager's announcement broke the awkward silence.

With a determined look, Minnie spoke up. "Yes, we're ready. Let's do this."

As the group prepared to leave the dressing room, Soojin pulled Shuhua aside. "Hey, are you okay?" Concern laced Soojin's words.

Shuhua nodded, attempting to smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." But the smile didn't reach her eyes, and the sadness lingered.

With a loud voice, Yuqi interjected, redirecting their attention to the impending performance. "Well, we've got a show to put on! Let’s go!"

Soyeon, assuming her role as leader, rallied the group. "Come on, lovebirds. Let's go, our fans are waiting for us!"

Linked arm in arm, the members exited the dressing room, and as Soojin walked alongside them, her mind raced, trying to grasp the unexpected kiss shared with Shuhua. She stole a glance at Shuhua, whose eyes held a mix of embarrassment and something else she couldn't quite decipher. Despite the confusion, Soojin felt a strange warmth spread through her, a sense of connection she hadn't anticipated. As they approached the stage, she braced herself, ready to face the crowd, her thoughts still lingering on the unexpected moment shared with Shuhua.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

As the cameras rolled, capturing the behind-the-scenes chaos of their music video shoot, Soojin found herself in the spotlight, the bright lights reflecting off her flawlessly applied makeup. Her concentration was soon disrupted by the familiar sound of Shuhua's voice calling out to her, cutting through the buzz of activity.

“Look over there,” Soojin said, her voice monotone, her eyes briefly flicking towards Shuhua.

"Jagiya, let’s go!" Shuhua exclaimed, her tone affectionate as she sauntered into the room, a playful smile dancing on her lips. Her vibrant energy contrasted sharply with Soojin's focused demeanor.

Soojin's brow furrowed at the use of the pet name, a flicker of irritation crossing her features. “Why am I your Jagiya?” she asked, shooting Shuhua a pointed look, silently willing her to leave her alone for just a moment.

Before Soojin could respond further, Miyeon appeared by her side, her presence warm and soothing. Miyeon leaned in close, her breath ghosting against Soojin's cheek as she moved to kiss her, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Soojin's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected gesture, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she tried to pull away. The camera man behind her, accustomed to these displays of affection, remarked with a chuckle, "It's been a while since I’ve seen you like this."

As the camera man inquired about their frequent conflicts over Soojin's affection, a wave of discomfort washed over her. She hesitated for a moment before responding, her voice tinged with resignation. "It’s not a while for me. They're like this at home too," she admitted, attempting to maintain her composure.

Despite her best attempts to stay calm, Miyeon's affectionate gestures only seemed to exacerbate the situation. Soojin found herself caught in a delicate balancing act between Shuhua's possessiveness and Miyeon's newfound attentiveness, a situation that left her feeling overwhelmed and trapped.

Before Soojin could dwell further on her predicament, Shuhua suddenly interjected herself between Soojin and Miyeon, her grip firm as she took Soojin's hand in hers. "Miyeon is loving me too much recently, it’s pretty burdensome for me," she declared, her voice laced with jealousy as she shot Miyeon a pointed glare.

As the tension between Shuhua and Miyeon reached its peak, Soojin couldn't help but recall a similar incident in the waiting room earlier that day. Miyeon had reached out to hold her hand, a simple gesture of comfort that had not gone unnoticed by Shuhua.

Shuhua's piercing stare had lingered on Miyeon, her jealousy palpable even then. And as Soojin found herself caught in the middle of their conflict once again, she felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on her.

After the chaotic filming session, Soojin found herself seeking a moment of respite away from the prying eyes of the camera crew. She retreated to a secluded corner backstage, hoping for a moment of peace to collect her thoughts. The soft hum of the overhead lights and the faint echoes of the crew's voices provided a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions swirling within her.

But her solitude was short-lived as Shuhua soon appeared before her, determination gleaming in her eyes. "Soojin," she said softly, urgency lacing her tone. "We need to talk."

Soojin felt a knot form in her stomach at the seriousness of Shuhua's tone. "What is it, Shuhua?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the unease creeping over her. She could see the tension in Shuhua's posture, the way her hands clenched at her sides.

Shuhua took a step closer, her gaze intense as she locked eyes with Soojin. "I need to know," she began, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Do you love me more than Miyeon?"

Soojin's heart skipped a beat at the question, her mind racing as she struggled to find the right words. "Shuhua, I—" she started, but before she could finish, Shuhua was already closing the distance between them.

Her touch was gentle yet insistent as she reached out to cup Soojin's cheek, her fingers tracing a delicate path along Soojin's skin. "Tell me, Soojin," she whispered, her breath warm against Soojin's ear. "Say that you love me more than anyone else."

Soojin's heart pounded in her chest as Shuhua's proximity sent a jolt of electricity through her veins. Her cheeks heated up, matching the shade of her bright red hair. She tried to pull away, but Shuhua's touch was like a vice, holding her in place.

"I-I can't," Soojin stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can’t give you what you want."

But Shuhua refused to back down, her touch growing bolder as she pressed closer to Soojin. "Please, Soojin," she pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation. "I need to know that you love me. That I'm the one you want."

Feeling the weight of Shuhua's disappointment, Soojin's heart went out to her, despite her own discomfort. With a heavy sigh, she reached out to gently take Shuhua's hand in hers, offering what little comfort she could muster. The tension in the air was almost palpable, each moment feeling heavier than the last.

"I'm sorry, Shuhua," Soojin murmured, her voice soft with sincerity. "I know this is hard for you, but please understand.”

Shuhua's gaze softened at Soojin's words, her anger slowly giving way to resignation. "I know," she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness. "But it still hurts."

Soojin felt a pang of guilt at the pain she had caused Shuhua, her heart aching with the knowledge that she couldn't give Shuhua the answer she so desperately wanted. But she was determined to make things right, to find a way to ease Shuhua's heartache.

"Let's make a deal," Soojin suggested, a tentative smile playing on her lips. "I promise to make it up to you later. We can cuddle and watch your favorite movie.”

Shuhua's expression brightened at the offer, her eyes lighting up with hope. "Really?" she asked, her voice filled with excitement.

Soojin nodded, her smile widening at the sight of Shuhua's happiness. "Really," she confirmed, squeezing Shuhua's hand reassuringly. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel better."

Soojin's heart ached at the vulnerability in Shuhua's voice, but she knew that she couldn't give in to Shuhua's demands. She cared for the younger girl deeply, but her feelings never exceeded the level of friendship Shuhua longed for.

As the night settled in and the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light across the room, Soojin and Shuhua found themselves nestled together in bed. The weight of the day's events began to fade away, replaced by a sense of peace. The laptop played a film in Mandarin that Soojin couldn't understand, but she didn't mind. It was the quiet moments like these that she cherished the most.

Her fingers traced gentle circles along Shuhua's scalp, her touch feather-light as she stroked her hair. With each stroke, she found herself lost in thought, contemplating how she could reassure Shuhua of her love without crossing the line into romance. The rhythmic motion was soothing, both for Shuhua and for Soojin herself.

Lost in her own thoughts, Soojin was startled when she heard Shuhua's soft voice break the silence. "Keep doing that," Shuhua murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It feels good."

Soojin felt a rush of warmth at Shuhua's words, a tender smile playing on her lips as she continued to run her fingers through Shuhua's hair. She had always found solace in these quiet moments, the simplicity of touch speaking volumes that words could never convey.

After a few minutes, Soojin hesitated, her fingers hovering over the laptop's keyboard as she paused the movie they had been watching. She turned to look at Shuhua, her expression serious yet tender.

"Shuhua," she began, her voice soft with uncertainty. "There's something I need to tell you." Shuhua's gaze met hers, her eyes wide with curiosity as she waited for Soojin to continue. Soojin took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say.

"I... You…are important to me," Soojin admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

As Soojin confessed her feelings, her heart raced with apprehension. It was difficult for her to articulate the complexities of her emotions, her fear of jeopardizing their friendship overshadowing any potential romantic connection.

Shuhua's gentle gaze softened as she listened, her understanding demeanor providing a sense of solace amid Soojin's turmoil. With a reassuring smile, she reached out and enveloped Soojin's trembling hand in hers.

"Soojin," Shuhua whispered, her voice tender and filled with empathy. "I know this is hard for you, and I want you to know that I'll wait for as long as you need. Our friendship means more to me than anything else."

Soojin felt a weight lift off her shoulders at Shuhua's unwavering support. The sincerity in Shuhua's words touched her deeply, and she couldn't help but be overwhelmed by a surge of gratitude for the understanding and patience Shuhua showed her.

As the tender moment lingered between them, Shuhua's gaze held a silent plea, her eyes shimmering with unspoken longing. Soojin's heart clenched at the vulnerability she saw reflected in Shuhua's eyes, her own emotions swirling with uncertainty.

"Soojin," Shuhua whispered, her voice barely a breath against the quiet hum of the room. "Can I... can I kiss you?"

Soojin's breath caught in her throat at the unexpected request, her mind racing as she grappled with conflicting emotions. She didn't want to lead Shuhua on, to give her false hope of something more. And yet, the way Shuhua was looking at her, with such raw honesty and vulnerability, made Soojin's resolve waver.

"I... I don't know, Shuhua," Soojin murmured, her voice tinged with hesitation. "I don't want to... I don't want to give you the wrong idea."

Shuhua's expression softened, her eyes filled with understanding. "I know, Soojin," she said softly, her tone gentle and reassuring. "But please... just this once. Let me show you how much you mean to me."

Soojin felt her resolve crumble at Shuhua's words, her heart aching with the intensity of her emotions. With a trembling hand, she reached out and cupped Shuhua's cheek, her touch tender and hesitant.

"Okay," Soojin whispered, her voice barely audible above the soft thrum of their heartbeats. "Just... just this once."

With a nod of assent, Shuhua leaned forward, her lips brushing against Soojin's in a soft, tentative kiss. Soojin felt a rush of emotions, a myriad of conflicting sensations washing over her. It was tender, sweet, and full of longing, a silent declaration of the feelings they both had been suppressing.

As they pulled apart, their lips lingering close, Soojin found herself lost in Shuhua's gaze, the depth of her emotions reflected in the younger girl's eyes. The room seemed to hold its breath, the moment stretching out into an eternity.

"Thank you," Shuhua whispered, her voice barely audible. "For letting me."

Soojin nodded, her heart still racing. "Just this once," she repeated softly, more to herself than to Shuhua. "Just this once."

As they settled back into their previous positions, Soojin continued to stroke Shuhua's hair, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The soft glow of the lamp bathed them in a warm, golden light, creating a cocoon of intimacy and understanding that they both needed.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

As the group's fame soared and they settled into their individual rooms, their bond as a group grew stronger with each passing day. Despite the hectic schedules and the pressures of fame, the members found solace in the comfort and familiarity of each other's presence. Shuhua specifically seemed to make a nightly crusade to Soojin's room.

At first, Soojin was taken aback by Shuhua's insistence on cuddling, her shy nature contrasting with Shuhua's bold displays of affection. The first few nights, Soojin lay stiffly beside Shuhua, her mind racing with thoughts and concerns. Yet, as the nights passed, she found herself growing accustomed to the warmth and familiarity of her friend's presence. Shuhua's soft breathing and the gentle rise and fall of her chest became a comforting rhythm that lulled Soojin into a sense of security.

There were moments, fleeting and rare, when Soojin felt a warmth stir within her at Shuhua's declarations of love. She would catch herself lingering a little longer in Shuhua's embrace, relishing the feeling of closeness that enveloped them. But as quickly as those feelings surfaced, Soojin would push them aside, burying them beneath layers of uncertainty and doubt. Her heart was a battleground of conflicting emotions, torn between the desire for closeness and the fear of crossing boundaries.

Shuhua never missed an opportunity to declare her love for Soojin. Whether it was during interviews, rehearsals, or just lounging around in their downtime, Shuhua's confessions would bubble up like an unstoppable force of nature, much to Soojin's amusement and exasperation.

And while Soojin would often tease Shuhua for her over-the-top displays of affection, she couldn't deny the warmth that spread through her heart at the thought of being so cherished by her friend. Their relationship was a delicate balance of playful banter and genuine affection, a dance they both reveled in as they navigated the highs and lows of their burgeoning careers.

So when Shuhua's antics spilled over into public displays of affection, Soojin couldn't help but play along, much to the delight of their fans and fellow members. Whether it was a quick peck on the cheek during a photo op or a playful kiss caught on camera, Soojin and Shuhua's dynamic never failed to bring a smile to everyone's faces.

The dressing room buzzed with energy as the members prepared for their upcoming comeback. The air was thick with anticipation and excitement, the faint hum of the makeup artists' tools and the rustle of clothing creating a symphony of pre-show preparations. Soojin sat on one of the provided couches with a composed expression, while Shuhua flitted around the room, her laughter filling the air like a melody.

The camera positioned itself in front of Soojin, unsurprisingly, Shuhua came running up with Minnie trailing behind her. Soojin wrapped an arm around Shuhua, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Shuhua will be twenty soon," she teased, nudging the younger girl playfully. “What do you want?”

Shuhua's eyes sparkled with excitement as she turned to face the camera, a playful grin spreading across her face. She pointed straight to Soojin, her enthusiasm palpable. Soojin couldn't help but chuckle at Shuhua's predictable response, though a small smile played on her lips. It had become a familiar joke between them, Shuhua's playful teasing about her affections for the dancer.

Just as Soojin was about to respond, the makeup artist called her over to get her makeup done, providing a convenient distraction from Shuhua's playful banter. Soojin turned and headed over to the makeup chair, leaving the younger girl grinning mischievously in her wake.

Later in the day, when the rest of the girls were ready to take the stage, Soojin glanced around the bustling meeting room, searching for Shuhua among the crowd. Spotting her near the refreshments table, Soojin gestured for Shuhua to come over.

"Shuhua," Soojin called out, her voice gentle yet firm.

Shuhua turned to face her, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Yes, Soojinnie?"

With a quick glance around the room to ensure no one was watching, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small wrapped box. "I... I have something for you," she whispered, catching Shuhua's attention.

Shuhua's eyes widened in surprise as Soojin handed her the gift, her heart fluttering with anticipation. "For me? But my birthday isn't until next week."

Soojin offered a small smile, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "Consider it an early birthday present."

Shuhua's heart swelled with gratitude as she carefully unwrapped the gift, revealing a delicate necklace nestled inside. Her eyes widened in awe as she held it up to the light, the intricate design sparkling in the dim glow of the dressing room.

Before Shuhua could react to the gift, Soojin leaned in close, her lips brushing against the corner of Shuhua's mouth in a fleeting kiss. The other members erupted into playful cheers and teasing remarks, their laughter filling the room as they encouraged the budding romance between Soojin and Shuhua.

Soojin's smile widened at Shuhua's reaction, her own heart swelling with warmth. Meanwhile, the other members had been watching the exchange with amused smiles, their eyes flickering between Soojin and Shuhua.

Minnie nudged Miyeon with a playful grin. "Looks like Shuhua's birthday came early this year."

Miyeon chuckled, her gaze softening as she watched the scene unfold. "Soojin must have put a lot of thought into that gift."

Yuqi raised an eyebrow as she leaned closer to Soyeon. "Do you think there's something more between them?"

Soyeon shrugged, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Who knows? But one thing's for sure, those two are inseparable."

Soojin pulled away, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Happy early birthday, Shuhua. Let's go." With that, Soojin turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Shuhua standing in the center of the dressing room, her heart racing with a mix of emotions. As she clutched the necklace in her hand, she couldn't help but feel a surge of hope blossoming within her.

Perhaps, just perhaps, Soojin's feelings weren't as one-sided as she had feared.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was Shuhua’s nineteenth birthday, and the managers had arranged a V- live to celebrate. The live stream featured just Soojin and Shuhua, set up in their cozy kitchen at the company. The camera was positioned perfectly to capture the warmth and joy radiating from the two girls.

“Hello, I am the beauty, Shuhua!” Shuhua greeted enthusiastically, waving at the camera. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and her smile was radiant.

Soojin smiled, her eyes sparkling with affection. “Today is Shuhua’s birthday, so we are here.”

As they chatted and interacted with the viewers, the atmosphere was filled with a sense of genuine joy. Shuhua took every opportunity to tease Soojin, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Hey, Soojin-unnie,” she said, her voice full of playful energy, “Do you want to check my korean skills?”

Soojin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “No thanks”

Shuhua started speaking mandarin assuming that Soojin would follow her lead, “First, say ‘你是 (nǐ shì)’.”

Soojin repeated carefully, “你是 (nǐ shì).”

Shuhua nodded, her eyes shining. “‘我的 (wǒ de)’.”

Soojin echoed, “我的 (wǒ de).”

“Great! Now, ‘心爱 (Xīn'ài)’,” Shuhua continued, grinning widely.

“心爱(Xīn'ài),” Soojin repeated, then looked at Shuhua expectantly. “What does it mean?”

Shuhua’s grin turned mischievous. “It means ‘Jagiya’.”

Soojin’s eyes widened in realization, and she laughed, playfully swatting at Shuhua. “You can’t do that!”

Shuhua giggled, clapping her hands. Her laughter was like music, filling the room with an infectious joy. “Perfect! You did it, Unnie!”

The chat exploded with heart emojis and playful comments, creating a cascade of affection and admiration from their fans. One viewer asked, “Shuhua, gives Soojin a kiss”

Shuhua’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked at Soojin. She puckers her lips to get ready.

But before Shuhua could make a move, Soojin turned the tables. “Why? Come do it” she said, her voice low and playful, as she moved in to kiss Shuhua.

Shuhua’s eyes widened in surprise, her heart skipping a beat and backing away in terror. “No! Only I can do it!” she protested, laughing.

Shuhua read another comment that said, “Soojin Unnie gives Shuhua a kiss.” Shuhua’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she patted her cheek and leaned closer to Soojin, tilting her head slightly and closing her eyes dramatically.

The viewers flooded the chat with heart emojis and excited comments, eagerly anticipating what would happen next.

Soojin grinned, her determination evident. She leaned in closer, her face just inches away from Shuhua’s. “You don’t think I can do it right.” She reached out, gently grabbing Shuhua’s face and pressing a hard kiss to her cheek.

Shuhua let out a playful shriek, her face turning a deep shade of red as she burst into laughter. “Everyone!” she exclaimed, still giggling. She turned to the camera, her smile wide and genuine. “Did you all see that? Soojin-unnie kissed me!”

Soojin, noticing the change in Shuhua’s demeanor, asked, “Why are you avoiding me?”

Shuhua bit her lip, her cheeks still red. “I’m shy,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Just then, the door burst open, and the rest of the members entered, their voices harmonizing as they sang “Happy Birthday.” Shuhua’s eyes widened in surprise, her heart swelling with emotion. Minnie quickly turned off the lights, leaving the room illuminated only by the soft glow of the candles on the cake.

The flickering candlelight cast a warm, magical glow over the room as the members continued to sing, their voices filled with love and joy. Shuhua, overwhelmed by the surprise and the heartfelt gesture, felt tears welling up in her eyes.

As they finished the song, Yuqi teased her, “Calm down, and make a wish, birthday girl!”

Shuhua smiled through her tears, her heart brimming with gratitude. She closed her eyes, made a silent wish, and blew out the candles. The room erupted in cheers and applause.

Miyeon, noticing the tears streaming down Shuhua’s cheeks, asked gently, “Why are you crying?”

Shuhua wiped her eyes, her voice trembling with emotion. “I thought everyone had forgotten my birthday because no one posted about it,” she confessed.

The members all laughed, their faces filled with affection and understanding. Miyeon stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Shuhua. “Our fingers were itchy trying not to.”

As the live stream continued, the group shared stories, laughed together, and enjoyed the special birthday cake. The joy and love were palpable, creating a memory that Shuhua would treasure forever. The rest of the evening was filled with playful teasing, heartfelt moments, and an overwhelming sense of belonging.

Miyeon, with a twinkle in her eye, decided to playfully torment Shuhua. She leaned in, attempting to plant kisses all over Shuhua’s face. “Come here!” Miyeon teased, her voice full of mischief.

Shuhua let out a playful shriek, ducking and dodging to avoid Miyeon’s affectionate assault. “No, Unnie, stop!” she laughed, trying to escape Miyeon's relentless attempts.

The room erupted in laughter as Miyeon continued to chase Shuhua’s face, both of them giggling uncontrollably. “Just one more kiss!” Miyeon insisted, finally managing to catch Shuhua and plant a big kiss on her cheek.

As the members settled down, they turned to the camera to say their goodbyes to the fans.

Shuhua waved at the camera, her smile radiant. "Thank you, everyone!”

With a final wave, the live stream ended, and the members began to gather their things, preparing to head to the dorms. The excitement of the evening was still palpable, and the warmth of their friendship filled the air.

As they moved towards the hallway, Soyeon turned to Shuhua. “Happy birthday one last time, Shuhua,” she said, giving her a gentle hug.

“Happy birthday!” Minnie, and Yuqi, chorused, each giving Shuhua a quick squeeze before heading off to their rooms.

Miyeon lingered a moment longer, her eyes meeting Shuhua’s. “Happy birthday, Shuhua,” she said softly, her voice filled with affection. “Sleep well.”

Shuhua smiled, her heart full. “Thank you, Unnie. Good night.”

Left alone in the quiet kitchen, Soojin and Shuhua looked at each other, Soojin leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Shuhua’s forehead, her heart full. “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered.

Shuhua smiled, a contented sigh escaping her lips. “Okay, Unnie. Let’s go.”

The room was quiet, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the space. They changed into their pajamas and settled into bed, the weight of the day's joy and laughter still lingering in the air.

Soojin turned to Shuhua, her eyes gentle and affectionate. "Did you have a good birthday, Shu?"

Shuhua's face lit up with a radiant smile. "Yes, Unnie, I did. I was really sad when I thought everyone had forgotten my birthday, but after you all surprised me, I felt so happy again."

Soojin smiled back at her, reaching out to tuck a strand of Shuhua's hair behind her ear. "I'm glad you're happy. That’s all that matters to me."

Shuhua's eyes sparkled with playful mischief. "You know, Jin-ah, I’d be even happier if I got a goodnight kiss before bed."

Soojin rolled her eyes at Shuhua’s antics, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Was one earlier in the week not enough for you?"

Shuhua shook her head, her expression serious despite the teasing glint in her eyes. "There will never be enough kisses for me, Unnie."

Soojin sighed dramatically, pretending to be exasperated, but her heart was warm. "Alright, alright," she said, leaning in closer. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes meeting Shuhua’s, then decided to be nice. She pressed a sweet, short kiss to Shuhua’s lips, feeling the softness and warmth.

Shuhua closed her eyes, savoring the moment, then smiled contentedly as they pulled away. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice full of affection.

Soojin smiled, her heart swelling with emotion. She wrapped her arms around Shuhua, pulling her close. Shuhua rested her head on Soojin’s chest, the steady rhythm of Soojin’s heartbeat soothing her.

As they cuddled, the room filled with a peaceful silence, both of them content and happy. Shuhua’s breathing slowly became steady and deep as she drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and loved in Soojin’s embrace.

Soojin lay there, her heart full, watching over Shuhua as she slept. When she was sure Shuhua was asleep, she whispered softly, her voice barely audible in the quiet room, "I love you, Shuhua."

The words hung in the air, a tender confession that Soojin hoped one day to say when Shuhua was awake. For now, it was enough to hold her close, knowing that their bond was strong and filled with love. As sleep began to claim her, Soojin pressed a gentle kiss to Shuhua's forehead, a silent promise of her feelings, and closed her eyes, drifting into a peaceful slumber with Shuhua in her arms.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The early morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. The alarm had gone off several times, its persistent beeping blending into the background noise. The room was filled with the soft rustling of leaves from the nearby trees and the distant chirping of birds greeting the dawn. The lump under the covers, however, showed no signs of stirring.

Soojin stood by the bed, her expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Her hair was slightly disheveled from sleep, and she was dressed in a cozy pair of pajamas. She glanced at the clock, noting with a sigh how early it still was.

"Shuhua," Soojin called softly, gently shaking the sleeping girl’s shoulder. "Wake up. We have an early shoot today."

A muffled groan was the only response. Shuhua burrowed deeper into the blankets, only the top of her head visible. Her hair, tousled from sleep, spread out like a dark halo on the pillow.

Soojin sighed, kneeling down by the bed and leaning closer. "Shuhua, come on. We need to get going. How about I make breakfast? Your favorite hotteok?"

There was a slight movement as Shuhua adjusted her position, but she still didn’t emerge from her cocoon. The air was thick with the scent of lavender from the diffuser on the nightstand, adding to the cozy atmosphere of the room.

Soojin tried again, her voice a little more coaxing. "Or we could walk Haku and Mata. They’re probably eager to get out." She glanced at the puppies' bed in the corner, where the two tiny furballs stirred at the sound of their names.

This time, Shuhua’s head popped out, her eyes barely open, a sleepy pout on her lips. "Tell Miyeon to take care of the dogs," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "I'll get up if you give me a kiss."

Soojin’s cheeks flushed a deep red, the color spreading to the tips of her ears. "A kiss?" she repeated, feeling her heart race at the bold request. The room seemed to grow warmer, the soft morning light casting a golden hue on Shuhua’s sleepy face.

"Mm-hmm," Shuhua hummed, her eyes already drifting shut again. "On the lips."

Soojin hesitated, her mind racing. The idea of being late loomed over her, and the urgency of their schedule pushed her to action. Taking a deep breath, she leaned in and pressed a quick, shy kiss to Shuhua’s cheek. Her lips tingled from the contact, and she quickly pulled back, her heart pounding.

"Not there," Shuhua murmured, a teasing smile playing on her lips, her eyes remaining closed. "On the lips."

Soojin’s blush deepened, her face now a vivid crimson. She knew Shuhua was testing her, not expecting her to follow through. But the thought of missing their shoot pushed her past her nerves. Gathering her courage, Soojin leaned in again, her lips trembling slightly as she moved closer. She could feel Shuhua’s breath, warm and steady, against her own lips.

In one swift, bold move, Soojin captured Shuhua’s lips in a tender kiss. The sensation was electrifying, sending a rush of warmth through her entire body. Shuhua’s lips were soft and warm, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Soojin had meant to keep the kiss brief for time sake, but she felt herself being pulled in like a moth to light. It was all enough to send Soojin's head spinning.

Before she could control it, Soojin was cupping Shuhua's face, deepening the kiss.

Soojin felt Shuhua respond, kissing her back, their lips moving together in perfect harmony. Soojin never wanted it to end, the sensation of Shuhua's lips against hers unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. At last, they pulled apart, both breathless and flushed.

"Now, will you please get up?" Soojin asked, her voice a little unsteady.

Shuhua’s eyes snapped open in surprise, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink. Soojin pulled back quickly, her own face burning with embarrassment. "There, you got your kiss." she insisted, her voice a mix of shyness and determination.

Shuhua blinked, her surprise melting into a slow, delighted smile. "Okay, okay," she said, finally sitting up and stretching. The blanket slipped off her shoulders, revealing the oversized green T-shirt she had slept in, its fabric wrinkled and soft from wear.

Soojin let out a sigh of relief, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Good. Let's get ready. We don’t want to be late."

As Shuhua climbed out of bed, she couldn’t help but steal another glance at Soojin, her smile turning into a playful grin. "You know, I might need that kind of wake-up call more often," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Soojin rolled her eyes, though her smile remained. "Just get ready, Shuhua," she said, unable to hide the affection in her voice.

With a final stretch, Shuhua nodded, her movements graceful despite the early hour. The puppies, Haku and Mata, trotted over to her, tails wagging excitedly. Shuhua bent down to pet them, her expression softening as she showered them with affection.

As they moved about the room, preparing for the day ahead, Shuhua's teasing continued. "I didn't think you'd actually kiss me," she said, her voice lilting with amusement. "I guess you really wanted me to get up."

Soojin, her back turned as she rummaged through her bag, tried to keep her composure. "I only did it because we can't be late," she replied, her voice a little too defensive. "Nothing else."

Shuhua approached, a playful glint in her eye. "Oh, is that so?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "Not even a little bit because you wanted to?"

Soojin turned to face her, trying to muster a stern look but failing as a blush crept up her cheeks. "Not even a little bit," she insisted, though her voice wavered slightly.

Shuhua giggled, clearly enjoying Soojin's flustered state. "Sure, Unnie. Whatever you say," she said with a wink, before turning to grab her clothes.

Soojin watched, her heart swelling with warmth at the sight. "Alright, let's go Jagiya," she said, her voice filled with determination.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The members were busy preparing for their stage performance, the energy in the room a mix of anticipation and excitement. Shuhua, in particular, was in a playful mood, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she glanced over at Soojin.

Catching sight of the camera crew setting up nearby, Shuhua had an idea. She grinned, pulling out her phone and opening the Google Translate app. Carefully, she typed in her first phrase and then, making sure the camera was following her, she confidently strutted over to Soojin.

"You are sexy," Shuhua said, the Korean words slightly stilted but unmistakable. She looked up at Soojin with a triumphant smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Soojin, caught off guard, blinked in surprise. She tried to maintain her composure, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her, twitching upwards into a reluctant smile. "Where did you learn such a weird thing?" she asked, her tone half exasperated, half amused.

Undeterred, Shuhua eagerly typed another phrase into her phone. She held it up, her excitement palpable as she read the next line. "Do you want me to buy you a glass?"

Soojin couldn't help it; she laughed, a bright, genuine sound that made Shuhua's grin widen. "A glass?" Soojin echoed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Shuhua, I think you mean a drink."

Undaunted, Shuhua nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm unwavering. She typed furiously on her phone, her fingers flying over the screen. "You are beautiful," she declared, her eyes never leaving Soojin's face. Then, with a mischievous glint, she added, "Can I kiss you?"

She jumped up and down, her excitement bubbling over as she held her phone up to show the camera. The crew chuckled, clearly entertained by the lively exchange.

Soojin sighed, though the fondness in her eyes was unmistakable. "You’ve been watching too many Korean dramas," she teased, shaking her head.

Shuhua beamed, her joy infectious. "Korean dramas are the best!" she declared, her accent making the words all the more endearing.

As the cameras turned away to focus on another member, Soojin saw her chance. She slipped her own phone out of her pocket and quickly typed a few words into the translator. When she was satisfied, she tapped Shuhua on the shoulder, her expression deceptively innocent.

Shuhua turned, curious, and Soojin held up her phone, the translated Mandarin phrase clear on the screen. "你真迷人", it read.

Shuhua's eyes widened, her cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink. "You... you think I'm charming?" she stammered, her Korean suddenly faltering.

Soojin grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yes," she said simply, enjoying the rare moment of having the upper hand. She quickly typed another phrase and showed it to Shuhua. "你想和我约会吗?" — "Do you want to go on a date with me?"

Shuhua's jaw dropped, her flustered expression priceless. She glanced around to make sure the cameras were still focused elsewhere, then leaned closer to Soojin, her voice a whisper. "Where did you learn such things?"

Soojin laughed softly, enjoying the role reversal. "You’re not the only one who can use Google Translate," she teased.

Shuhua, still blushing furiously, tried to regain her composure. "Well, if we’re going to play this game," she said, her voice gaining confidence, "I’m going to win."

Soojin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Is that a challenge?"

Shuhua nodded, her eyes sparkling with renewed mischief. "Yes, Unnie. It’s a challenge."

The day continued with playful exchanges, each girl trying to outdo the other. Between takes, Shuhua approached Soojin again, her phone ready. "너의 눈은 별처럼 빛나요" — "Your eyes shine like stars."

Soojin chuckled, her heart skipping a beat at the romantic phrase. "You’re getting better at this," she admitted, her smile warm.

Encouraged, Shuhua typed another phrase. "너와 함께 있고 싶어요" — "I want to be with you."

Soojin’s cheeks flushed, her heart racing. She leaned in, her voice low and teasing. "Is that so?"

Shuhua nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, Soojin-unnie. Very much."

Soojin’s smile widened, a playful glint in her eye. "Well then," she said, pulling out her phone and typing quickly. "我也想和你在一起" — "I want to be with you too."

Shuhua’s breath caught, her cheeks flushing a deeper red. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Soojin leaned closer, their faces just inches apart. "Is that enough to get you to stop teasing me?" Soojin whispered, her voice soft and suggestive.

Shuhua, caught off guard, could only nod, her eyes wide and her heart pounding.

Soojin chuckled softly, enjoying the rare moment of having Shuhua flustered.

Soojin saw her chance to take the teasing a step further. She quickly typed a phrase into her phone and showed it to Shuhua. "你真可爱" — "You’re really cute."

Shuhua's blush deepened, her flustered expression making Soojin smile. "Stop it," she mumbled, trying to hide her embarrassment.

Soojin laughed, a soft, melodic sound. "Why? Are you embarrassed?" she teased, leaning closer.

Shuhua nodded, her cheeks still flushed. "A little," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Soojin’s smile softened, her gaze tender. "Good," she whispered back, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Because I think it’s adorable."

But Shuhua wasn’t backing down that easily. Gathering her courage, she looked Soojin straight in the eye. "So, about that date," she said, her tone daring and playful. "When are you going to make good on your promise?"

Soojin rolled her eyes, though a smile still tugged at her lips. She didn’t want to lose the battle, so she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. "Why go on a date?" she asked, her tone silky smooth. "Should we just skip it and go straight to the bedroom?"

Shuhua’s eyes widened, her face turning a deep shade of red. For a moment, she was utterly speechless, caught off guard by Soojin's boldness. The playful banter that had fueled her confidence all day vanished in an instant, replaced by a flustered silence.

Soojin, seeing the effect her words had, smirked triumphantly. "Why so silent, Shuhua? Cat got your tongue?" she teased, enjoying the rare moment of having the upper hand.

Shuhua shook her head, her flustered expression making her look even more endearing. "N-no, I just..." she stammered, unable to find the words to respond.

Soojin laughed softly, her eyes warm with affection. "That's what I thought," she said, gently patting Shuhua’s shoulder. "Come on, let’s get back to work."

For the rest of the day, Shuhua refrained from teasing Soojin, her mind still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. And though she tried to act as if nothing had happened, the memory of Soojin’s bold words lingered, making her heart flutter every time she thought of it.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 38: Practice

While this particular picture was of course taken by Entertainment Weekly, it comes to me by way of "hotzxgirl.com" and was labeled "Eye of the Tar Valon | Hot sex picture". Spoiler alert! Unless you have a lot of very specific fetishes, this is not a hot sex picture. It also doesn't even depict anything that happens in this chapter, but that's not going to stop me is it? What might stop you if you don't like spoilers is the knowledge that if you keep reading, you consent (in a hot and sexy way?) to get all sorts Wheel of Time spoilers from all over the series.

This chapter has a Flame of Tar Valon icon now that we're back in Tar Valon. It's been awhile! Four or five in-world months and like... fourteen chapters, I think?

She knew how easy it was to touch saidar now. She could always feel it there, waiting for her, like the smell of perfume or the feel of silk, drawing her, drawing her. And once she did touch it, she could rarely stop from channeling, or at least trying to. She failed almost as often as she succeeded, but that was only another spur to keep on.

Untainted, saidar is naturally a much bigger draw for channelers than its twin. It's also a great mindset Egwene has as a student, especially since she is also a bit concerned by her growing addiction as well. Unlike Rand, she knows damn well she's going to be a daily user.

Three short paces took Nynaeve from wall to white-plastered wall; Nynaeve’s own room was much larger, but since she had made no friends among the other Accepted, she came to Egwene’s room when she needed someone to talk to, even as now when she did not talk at all.

This is such a mood.

“Else was making calf’s eyes at Galad today while he was working with the Warders,” Min said, rocking the stool on two legs.

It's funny how Min so naturally recreates the described conditions of Emond's Field for Egwene, being the latest eyes-and-ears reporting on a woman's movement towards the gentleman Egwene has picked.

It's also clear build-up for that pairing that Jordan abandoned later on down the line in favor of Egwene/Gawyn and Galad/Berelain. It's nice and somewhat more realistic though, that unlike most of the other main characters, Egwene doesn't find her true suitor immediately.

He’d hurt a person because he had to serve a greater good. He wouldn’t even notice who was hurt, because he’d be so intent on the other, but if he did, he would expect them to understand and think it was all well and right.

This is the thing that separates Galad from being an actual fucking saint, the way his big picture focus hides him from the little details.

War in Cairhien. War on Toman Head. They may have caught the false Dragon in Saldaea, but there’s still war in Tear. Most of it is rumors, anyway.

A nod to the Gospel of Matthew, which says that a sign of the end times is wars and rumors of wars. Guess this is just what you have to expect from all the comings of Rand.

She had not dreamed about him in months, now, not the kind of dreams she had had on the River Queen. Anaiya still made her write down everything she dreamed, and the Aes Sedai checked them for signs, or connections to events, but there was never anything about Rand except dreams that, Anaiya said, meant she missed him. Oddly, she felt almost as if he were not there any longer, as if he had ceased to exist, along with her dreams, a few weeks after reaching the White Tower.

Obviously it's a bit silly to talk about abandoned ideas UNDER abandoned ideas, but one wonders if Jordan had originally intended for Egwene to stop being a dreamer at the end of the series, the way her initial foray here is so intimately tied to Rand's presence in the world.

That sent a chill through her, as it never failed to do, the thought of Rand being gentled, Rand weeping and wanting to die as Logain did.

Here the reader is reminded that though there's Mirror Worlds out there where Egwene gentles or kills Rand, they're not her true self and in any case those Egwenes were probably just as devastated as the real one would be to be backed into such a corner.

“I’m sorry, Min,” Nynaeve said in a tight voice. “Sometimes my temper. . . . I can’t ask you to forgive me, not for this.” She took a deep breath. “If you want to report me to Sheriam, I will understand. I deserve it.”

A nice bit that shows that Nynaeve's a good person who just has some issues, but it's also funny to note that Nynaeve is demonstrating she's exactly the sort of person Galad assumes everyone would be under the circumstances.

With murmurs of “forgiven” that sounded meant on both sides, the two women hugged.

Gosh Nyneve and Min are fun together. It's a real shame they won't really get to hang out much until Rand's practically having his Sith armor made.

A man who drove oxen as hard as they drive us would be shunned. I am tired all the time. I wake up tired and go to bed exhausted, and sometimes I’m so afraid that I will slip and channel more of the Power than I can handle that I. . . .

I expect that training in the AoL was still rigorous but nowhere near as exhausting and that much as battlefield first aid is the only kind of Healing still left, the only sorts of instruction that survived through the Breaking were something like the Hell Week stints before final examinations. And then naturally they never bothered to see if there was a less grueling method.

“The Traveling People are tempting,” Nynaeve agreed, “but wherever you go, it will not change what you can do. You cannot run from saidar.” She did not sound as if she liked what she was saying.

Somewhere far away, Moiraine is laughing and she doesn't know why.

Min shifted on her stool. “I don’t like reading friends,” she muttered. “Friendship gets in the way of the reading. It makes me try to put the best face on what I see. That’s why I don’t do it for you three anymore. Anyway, nothing has changed about you that I can. . . .”

Poor Min probably's been burned once or twice with a friend she thought she could trust with the secret of her power, only for the thirst for knowledge to overcome any actual relationship. It must really suck now that her friends aren't just channelers, who always have omens, but specifically the plot relevant ones.

Before she reached it, though, a dark-eyed Aes Sedai with her blond hair done in a multitude of braids stepped into the room. Egwene blinked in surprise, as much at it being any Aes Sedai as at Liandrin. She had not heard that Liandrin had returned to the White Tower, but beyond that, novices were sent for if an Aes Sedai wanted them; it could mean no good, a sister coming herself.

Especially not since the danger omen probably triggered specifically the moment Liandrin set out to the rooms.

“Do you have some word of Rand?” Egwene asked eagerly. Liandrin arched an eyebrow at her. “Forgive me, Aes Sedai. I forget myself.” “Have you word of them?” Nynaeve said, just short of a demand. The Accepted had no rule about not speaking to an Aes Sedai until spoken to.

1. Egwene why would you think a Red showing up to give you news about Rand is something to ask after eagerly?

2. Nynaeve would have acted exactly the same way she does here even if she were a Novice.

“Someday, I am sure, you will serve a cause, and you will learn then that to serve it you must work even with those whom you dislike. I tell you I have worked with many with whom I would not share a room if it were left to me alone. Would you not work alongside the one you hated worst, if it would save your friends?”

I wonder which Black sisters in particular Liandrin doesn't like. Are the 12 who run off with her included? Any non Red/Black combo?

(Also by "Someday, I am sure, you will serve a cause," she means "Next Tuesday at the latest you'll be slaves", just saying.)

You two come from their village. In some way I do not entirely understand, you are connected to them. Beyond that, I cannot say.

Surprisingly, all of this is entirely truthful. I mean, yeah the first sentence is obvious, but the second sentence means "I am not able to question my masters as to why you're important but they say you are" and the third sentence means "I'm bound by the Oath Rod not to betray their secrets anyway".

“You have my permission. Tell no one. No one at all. The Black Ajah walks the halls of the White Tower.”

Speaking of being bound not to reveal secrets, there's three options for how she pulls this off:

1. The straightforward one is what she says below, that with Tarmon Gai'don approaching this can't be denied any longer. Presumably this would be an executive decision by Ishamael or at least Alviarin and not something Liandrin is able to decide on her own.

2. Her explanation is merely a way of hiding her allegiance. The truth is she knows that Siuan and Moiraine know about the Black Ajah and possibly others and thus she no longer considers the Ajah's existing a secret that has to be held close.

3. As above, but instead of Siuan and Moiraine being the catalysts, Liandrin feels that the certainty of these girls dying as damane, utterly cut off from any way to spread the knowledge, still counts as holding the secret close and thus she can disclose it. As this is the closest to traditional "villain monologuing to a hero caught in a death trap", it's my preferred one.

“She is Aes Sedai,” Nynaeve said dryly. “I’ll wager my best silver pin against a blueberry that every word she said was true. But I wonder if we heard what we thought we did.”

Quite possibly everything she said was true, which means that the Black Ajah has been getting ahold of any letters Moiraine is sending to Siuan in confidence. Pretty alarming how deep the rot goes!

I can’t even go for a walk without the Amyrlin herself popping out and asking me to read whoever we see. When that woman asks you to do something, there doesn’t seem to be any way out of it. I must have read half the White Tower for her, but she always wants another demonstration.

Siuan is probably trying to get a handle on what's going to happen in the Tower in the lead up to the Last Battle, though unfortunately Min's symbols are far too esoteric for them to make any sense of at this point - and don't show up until they're set in stone anyway. Whatever hopes she had of Black Ajah hunting by this method must be roundly dashed by now.

I’ll bet we won’t either of us cry ourselves to sleep on an adventure.

And here comes dramatic irony with the steel chair!

I can see the danger around all of you more clearly, now. Not clearly enough to make it out, but I think it has something to do with you deciding to go. That’s why it is clearer; because it is more certain.

I think Min's on the right track but missing a little bit here. The certainty is tied to the vector of danger: Liandrin and the Seanchan. If the girls did refuse, ran to Sheriam, and told all, they might not leave the Tower at all (at least not Elayne; maybe not the others if Sheriam's out of the loop about Liandrin) and would instead have the uncertain danger of the backup plan of the Black Ajah looming over them instead.

However much she might argue beforehand, once a course of action had been decided, Nynaeve always went right to the practicalities: what they had to take with them, and how cold it would be by the time they reached Toman Head, and how they could get their horses from the stables without being stopped.

Being Village Wisdom, the only way to be effective is to worry about the practicalities, even if the woolheads on the Village Council have decided to do something stupid and won't listen to you. It'll be a trait that helps her out later too, when she's a queen.

[spookymultimedia]

Helpless To Defy His Fate: The Sountrack

Here's the music that inspired each chapter of my fanfiction, songs that go nicely with what I've written and a look into my creative process while writing

Chapter 1

El Tango De Roxane from Moulin Rouge

I'm not a fan of this musical or the canon story behind this song but I know I'm not alone in this attachment to this song. This song gave me a vision of Nandor betrayed by Guillermo by his act of violence. He's devastated. I was specifically inspired by the tiktok videos that combine Roxanne and the Plauges from The Prince of Egypt. At this point, the story in my head was like this opera style drama that's full of love, loss and pain. Nandor is the one who's heart is crying.

The Ballad of Jane Doe from Ride The Cyclone

I wanted to capture feeling this song gave more than the actual story in this song. I thought about Laszlo and his feelings of betrayal as he's quickly dying. He doesn't have time to process that he's dying. It's tragic. It really is an unfair death. I guess the Fall Fair Suite fits too but this song was a bigger influence

Bright Eyes by Art Garfunkel

This is one of the songs that I think fits Nandor's grief. He's struggling to process the fact Laszlo is dead and that Guillermo killed him.

CH 2

Sad Song by We The Kings

This captures Nadja's grief perfectly. The entire song is how she feels about Laszlo dying. At this point in writing this fic was an exploration of grief and how each of these characters would experience it. I didn't have a Nandermo arc in mind quite yet. I didn't expect this fic to be longer than two chapters. It's was a impulsive idea I wanted to write down. I wanted to write drama and angst for no reason but catharsis and enjoyment.

My Immortal by Evenessance

This was something I listened to while I was writing and thinking about Colin's Grief. He used to comfort Laszlo and learning about Laszlo's abusive home when he was young concerned him. Laszlo grieved him once and now Colin is grieving him. It's ironic. Also I was somewhat influenced by BCR's love for Evenessence and Papa Roach.

Look Who's Inside Again by Bo Burnam

This one was a huge influence on how I wrote Colin Robinson in this fanfiction. Laszlo was someone who gave Colin Robinson friendship when he was desperate to be understood and tired of being forgotten. He was happy and confident. When the one person that understood Colin better than anyone else in his life died he felt alone and insecure again. He struggled to reach out to the people around him and feel into a severe depression that kept him in his bed with no one to feed on but the cruelty of the internet. Colin Robinson is generally the comic relied character. "It's hard to be funny while stuck in a room". He usually enjoys telling his friends dumb jokes but now he's struggling to feel any joy at all. Draining online was a treat but in this situation it made him feel worse and left him feeling like shit

Chapter 3

Flying Dreams from The Secret of NIMH

Chapter 3 was just a sickfick/hurt&comfort I just wanted to write something nice and wholesome and cuddly after all the pain and truama that happened in the previous chapters. This chapter is the calm before the storm in a way. The scene where Nandor is helping Colin Robinson drink its tea was directly inspired by that scene in Secret of Nimh. There's a big emphasis on familial and platonic affection and love in the second half of this chapter.

That's the only song I had in mind for this chapter. The rest was just character interaction with my OC Desdemona. She wasn't originally going to be in this chapter but I really liked the idea of Nandor speaking to it. I think in a less grim timeline they would fuck at least once lol. There's so much grief going around I needed to put Desdemona in this fic, she eats that energy up. I'm glad I decided to it really helped me get a strong sense of its character.

Chapter 4

Bohemian Rapsody by Queen

I had this song already in mind while I was working on chapter 3. I knew I wanted to write Guillermo into this fever dream of guilt and self loathing. I wanted to go into the uncanny territory of weirdness. The part in his dream where Nadja kills Guillermo is directly inspired by an alternate ending proposed by @/ednacrabapple in which Nandor teaches Nadja to swordfight ti kill Guillermo. The twist would be she wouldn't be able to do it and suddenly Nandor gets the confidence to kill him. The lyrics that that inspired me the most where these:

I see a little silhouetto of a man,

Scaramouch, Scaramouch, will you do the Fandango!

Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening me

He's just a poor boy from a poor family,

Spare him his life from this monstrosity

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me,

For meee

So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye

So you think you can love me and leave me to die

Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby,

Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

Also in the beginning we see the death from Guillermo's perspective. "Momma, life has just begun but now I've gone and thrown it all away." Guillermo is new to being a vampire and now that's been completely ruined by his murderous tendencies.

No Way Out from Brother Bear

This is one of the movies I took inspiration from for this fanfiction. I wanted to find stories that had similar stories of murder, guilt and forgiveness. I needed to make sure it was obvious that Guillermo lives in guilt and fear. Everyone else has a warped perception of him and believe he's killing for fun. I needed write the opposing perspective in this story.

Oh Miss Believer by Twenty One Pilots

There were three songs that inspired how I wrote nandermo in this chapter. This song is a love letter to Guillermo. Guillermo is scared and helpless. He's in a deep depression and struggling to carry on. Nandor is scared for Guillermo's life and while he addresses that Guillermo has done terrible things he wants to protect him some how. This chapter is when you start to see that Nandor and Guillermo are psychically linked to each other in a very literaral sense. They can feel and read each other's thoughts without knowing they are. They know the worst is yet to come and they're fearful.

Talking to Moon by Bruno Mars

This describes Nandor's feelings. He wants Guillermo badly against the better judgment of everyone else around him.

Aftermath by Lifehouse

Throughout the story Nandor and Nadja grow closer as lovers. Their feelings and actions change into something romantic. They're both traumatized and as a result hold onto each other because they're scared of losing one another. Despite the grief they feel warmth with one another.

Wisdom of Snow by Trans Siberian Orchestra

This song is from the album The Lost Christmas Eve and acts as the contemplative buffer between the old man's confrontation with his past and his emotional breakthrough. This chapter is foreboding and foreshadows what the next few chapters have in store. This song is also what I titled chapter 4. It wad a last minute decision I made while trying to come up with a good title that wasn't stale.

Chapter 5

Hayloft by Mother Mother

The idea that Sean should hunt down Guillermo to kill him as revenge was inspired by a conversation I had with @/2offayyo-kzt. Sean is angry and grieved his lover Laszlo was killed unfairly. He believes murder is the answer.

An eye for an eye, a leg for a leg

A shot in the heart doesn't make it unbreak

She really didn't wanna make it messy

She really, really didn't, but the girl gone cray

Christmas (baby please come home)

I never planned for Simon to be in this fic but I started to think about how Simon would react to Laszlo's absence. It was a joke idea and then I thought a brief moment of comedy in this fic was what the story needed. While I was brainstorming I had found this tiktok and got this idea. I thought it would be fun to write Simon being trapped in this cheery environment while his heart has just been shattered to pieces. It's painfully ironic. Unlike the other songs in this soundtrack this one is diagetic. It's both taunting Simon and describes his feelings. He's desperate to see Laszlo again and he wants Laszlo to be home again more than anything.

Cause I remember when you were here

And all the fun we had last year

This line is in reference to Go Flip Yourself

The song repeats over and over "baby please come home" which is how desperate Simon is to be with Laszlo again.

Story of My Life by One Direction

This was a very risky decision I made while writing this fic. To me in only felt natural that Nadja would go through some kind of emotional journey during this time of grief. I just really wanted to write the moment that Nadja's ghost dissappears. It's like self reflection. This song is Nadja's first step into accepting Laszlo is gone. She begins to acknowledge the happy moments she had with Laszlo.

Sugarcloud from Ride The Cyclone

Nadja and her ghost have alot in common but I suspect there's dissonance when it comes to Laszlo. Nadja doll never got to meet Laszlo and doesn't quite understand what Nadja sees in him. She didn't get to experience falling in love with Laszlo. Nadja's ghost is under the impression that her life was a waste and her legacy is dependent on what she's known as in the vampire world. Nadja is obsessed with her reputation and strives for success to the point she neglects her own joy and falls into burnout. As Nadja recalls her life spent with Laszlo they both come to the realization that she doesn't need to prove her existence to anyone. Just being alive is enough and not having a grand legacy doesn't make her worthless. She'd undead but it still applies lol.

The way I see it Nadja became one with her ghost. She's no longer haunted by her childhood or insecurities. She's finally made peace with her truamas and allowing herself to rest. The reason she's taking up a small hobby earlier in the chapter is because she's trying to learn how to relax and just do something because it's fun and not to be good at it.

Chapter 6

One of Us from The Lion King 2

Months before I decided to write this fanfic I was already obsessed with the idea of the three vampire from the 2014 movie passing judgement to Guillermo. They would struggle to feel any compassion for him and only feel fear and hate for something dangerous they can't understand. I would listen to this imagining the potential conflict between the the three vampires and the main characters in the series on the topic of Guillermo. I always envisioned Nandor being the Nala sitting on the sidelines with everyone against his plea to spare Guillermo. Most characters see Guillermo as a threat and feel hurt by him. I specifically feel that this line fits Simon.

Someone once lied to us

Now we're not so blind!

& by Tally Hall

Guillermo has to face vampiric law and its very vicious and cruel. There's lots of tension and a significant lack of understanding.

When the golden rule and the jungle meet

There'll be nothing to love and there'll be no one to beat.

Oh, the things we know, the things we don't

Oh, the things we think, we can, will and won't

[CW: flashing in clip ] Hungover in the City of Dust by Autoheart

I'll be honest while I was writing the last two of this fic I wasn't in the best state mentally and at the time I'm writing this I don't feel any better. I let that feeling inspire how I wrote Guillermo. It was like a strange form of catharsis projecting all my hopeless thoughts and frustrations onto Guillermo. Guillermo is having the worst night of his life and he's barely keeping it together.

The Trial by Pink Floyd

While the title of this chapter is accurate to what happens its also referring to this song. Guillermo is in a cage being accused of his crimes but he's also at war with his own self loathing. Viago is this symbol of vampiric class and acts downright patronizing to him.

Hells Comin With Me

Simon wasn't supposed to return but I grew to love the idea that it was Simon who told the Vampiric Council about Guillermo crimes and arrest him. I wanted to play into the fact that Simon is a character that tends to return when we least expect it in canon. Now he's back and full of righteous anger.

I am the righteous hand of God

And I am the devil that you forgot

While I was writing this fic I was fleshing out my headcannons for Simon since he's a half baked character at the moment. I got this idea that Simon had this catholic past when he was alive and it sticks with him a bit as a vampire. One way is his shape-shifting abilities, when under high stress or anger, forms into something others would compare to a biblically accurate angel. It's something that would deeply scare Guillermo, who already has religious truama.

SURPRISE! A DELETED SCENE! :D

Bloom from Joseph King of Dreams

This was deleted due to pacing issues and it just felt out of place. This would take place after the trial with Guillermo telling The Barron everything. The Barron feels sorrowful yet sympathetic. He's not proud of who had been in the past and for thinking he was above all of mankind. He had changed and he believes Guillermo can grow from this too.

You've seen the damage words can do

When full of thoughtless pride

Now heed the wiser voice in you

That calls to be your guide

One Normal Night from The Addams Family the musical

I'm not a huge fan of this musical. I feel like it misses the point of The Addams Family, which is radical acceptance in a conservative society. However I do love the artists and editors who show their favorite characters experiencing a traumatic night where stuff just keeps happening to them. I think Guillermo is in a similar situation in this fic

While My Guitar Gently Weeps by The Beatles

I don't think the men who are The Beatles are good people. I think I owe my love for their songs to the obscure movie Cirque Du Soleil. There's a handful of artistic and abstract interpretations of their songs. In this movie this song is visualized as a widow who lost her husband to war. I bring this up as it was inspiration for writing Nandor's grief for Laszlo. Their relationship soured and Nandor will never have closure with Laszlo. He regrets that he didn't appreciate Laszlo enough while he had him. He also wonders if things would be different if he expressed his love for Guillermo sooner.

Chapter 7

Runs in the Family by Amanda Palmer

This was another part I projected myself into. Guillermo hates who his family is. He's a Van Helsing and no matter how much he denys it or tries to hide it, it will always come back to him.

I cannot, I cannot, I cannot run from my family

They're hiding inside of me, corpses on ice

Guillermo has ran from many things in his life. He's ran from his sexuality and the catholic church but it's always there to haunt him. He's quite literally become a criminal on the run and he's not proud of it.

Mary, have mercy, now look what I've done

But don't blame me because I can't help where I come from

And running is something that we've always done well

And mostly I can't even tell what I'm running from

Grenade by Bruno Mars

Nandor has this unconditional love for Guillermo and while he struggles to vocalize or or express it in a productive way he does cause him to do pretty stupid things. Nandor would literally die for him. Guillermo does feel the same but he's a coward. Besides neither of them could communicate.

Lullaby for a Princess by ponyphonic

Guillermo and Nandor are doomed, in this timeline at least. Nandor doesn't appreciate Guillermo. Nandor didn't support him when he wasn't given any respect. No matter how much Guillermo demand to become a vampire, he refuses to turn him in fear of the consequences but mostly because of his pride. So Guillermo took things into his own hands and became a vampire without him. Guillermo refused to listen to Laszlo's criticism and it resulted in something Guillermo regrets. Nandor knows their relationship us doomed but he still wishes him well as they're forced apart.

The years now before us

Fearful and unknown

I never imagined

I'd face them on my own

May these thousand winters

Swiftly pass, I pray

I love you, I miss you

All these miles away

Everything I do, I do it for You

I remember this song from the movie Robin Hood. I don't remember much of the movie but I remember how the song made me feel. It was like this knight in shinning armor kind of song where you fantasize about rescuing someone you adore or the person rescuing you. I associate alot of 80s dad rock with Nandor. It's romantic and its the ideal type of romance Nandor desires.

The Best of Friends from The Fox and The Hound

Before I really had a clear idea of the conclusion I wanted for this movie, I watched two movies for inspiration. I watched Brother Bear and The Fox and The Hound. The latter was the direct inspiration for the conclusion. I think Guillermo and Nandor are similar to Todd and Cooper. Guillermo is the troublesome fox who keeps causing trouble and accidental harm. Nandor wants to love Guillermo and defend him but he knows they should be enemies and their relationship might be impossible to have without issues.

When these moments have passed

Will that friendship last

Who can't say there's a way

Oh, I hope

I hope it never ends

'Cause you're the best of friends

The scene where Cooper stands in front of Todd to protect him is a touching scene. There's not really a solid answer to the issue. They all go their separate ways and decide to give up the chase. The rabid warewolf is a parallel to the bear Todd fights and Sean parallels Amos Slade who's mind is set on revenge. Nandor's eyes are based on how Cooper stares at his master, pleading for mercy. Nandor's eyes are full of emotion and it works to my advantage for this fanfiction. Sean gives up and chooses peace. Nandor and Guillermo separate on good terms but they will never forget their friendship.