#The man who appears out of nowhere and saves the world.

[lupiiny]

456

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: I Want a Refund || Trey Clover

When the universe dunks you into a dumpster fire of a novel as the villainess, survival is key. Except your husband, Trey Clover, turns out to be such a green flag that it gets a little harder to function.

Series Masterlist

You prided yourself on being a normal, decent person. Maybe even a good person, depending on who you asked. Sure, you weren’t out here saving kittens from trees or solving world hunger, but you did your part.

You recycled when you remembered, held the door open for strangers (if they were close enough, you weren’t that kind of hero), and even tossed bread crumbs to the pigeons outside your apartment every now and then. It wasn’t much, but it was honest work.

So, really, what you didn’t expect was to be completely betrayed by the universe. The betrayal began small, like a mosquito buzzing in your ear: the newest novel you’d been anticipating for months was sold out.

“Are you serious?” you grumbled, glaring at the empty display like it had just insulted your mother. A handwritten sign on the shelf read: ‘SOLD OUT! More in stock soon!’ in cheerful cursive, as if mocking you.

What were you supposed to do now? Go home empty-handed? Waste your perfectly good afternoon plans of curling up with a book? Absolutely not. Refusing to admit defeat, you scanned the bookstore until your gaze fell on the “New and Best-Selling” rack.

One book immediately caught your eye. The cover was... well, something. It looked like someone had raided a middle schooler’s stash of Barbie stickers, splattered glitter over the whole thing, and slapped on an aggressively curly gold font that screamed, I’M A ROMANCE NOVEL!

You sighed. “Fine. How bad could it be?”

It could be very, very bad.

The first red flag was the synopsis. It introduced Trey Clover, the Grand Duke, who loved his spouse, the villainess, with a devotion so pure it made you want to gag. But then came the second male lead, the Prince, who confessed his love to Trey and the villainess, because monogamy was too boring for this book.

And then there was the heroine. The synopsis just called her “the Saintess,” because why bother giving her a name when her only personality trait was being the worst human being imaginable? She appeared out of nowhere, became the Saintess overnight (because logic?), and made it her life’s mission to ruin the villainess’s life while somehow convincing everyone she was an angel.

Oh, and the Prince? The book had him slip on a rock and die halfway through the plot, like the author had a word count limit and didn’t know what else to do with him. The villainess ends up dying too, right aftetr asking Trey for a divorce to "protect him." The ending involved Trey marrying the heroine, despite spending the entire book side-eyeing her like she owed him rent.

You closed the book slowly, your soul drained of all joy. “What in the fresh hell did I just read?”

But no, you couldn’t let this stand. You were a taxpayer, a contributing member of society. You did not deserve this literary slap in the face.

With righteous indignation burning in your chest, you marched back to the bookstore. You slapped the book onto the counter with a dramatic flair that deserved a standing ovation.

“Refund,” you declared, glaring at the cashier.

“Uh... we don’t usually do refunds on books you’ve already read...” they began hesitantly.

“I don’t care,” you snapped, pointing at the glittering monstrosity. “This isn’t a book. It’s a hate crime against literature. A refund, please, before I start sobbing in public.”

After a long pause—and possibly fearing a customer service meltdown—they handed you store credit. Satisfied but still simmering with rage, you stomped out of the store, muttering to yourself about bad authors, worse editors, and the existential crisis of knowing someone got paid to write that garbage.

And that’s when karma struck.

A segway—a SEGWAY—came hurtling toward you at Mach speed, piloted by a man dressed in full medieval knight armor.

“MAKE WAY FOR SIR SCOOTINGTON!” he screamed, his voice muffled by his helmet.

You froze. Your brain could not process this level of absurdity in such a short amount of time. Was this a prank? A hallucination? Had the book actually been cursed and now you were living out its bad writing?

The segway didn’t stop. It hit you with a solid THUNK, sending you flying backward into a suspiciously well-placed pile of garbage bags.

As you lay there, buried under the remains of someone’s takeout and a very old banana peel, as your vision started to blur, you stared at the sky and thought:

Dawg, why me??

You woke up to the faint chirping of birds and the kind of silence that only rich people seem to afford. Something felt... off. The sheets were too soft, like they’d been spun from angel whispers and a mid-tier deity’s hair. Your pillow was the perfect combination of fluffy and firm, a far cry from the lumpy second-hand abomination you’d bought on sale three years ago.

Your eyes cracked open, squinting against the sunlight filtering through an elaborate, gold-encrusted chandelier. A chandelier. In a bedroom. You lived in a shoebox apartment; your idea of luxury was a lamp that wasn’t from a clearance bin.

You turned your head slightly, and your soul froze mid-exit.

There was someone next to you.

Your brain screeched to a halt, flashing every warning signal it had. Stranger. Bed. You. No.

The only living thing that should’ve been in your apartment was the stray cat you’d nicknamed Gremlin, and he sure as hell didn’t have human proportions or a steady breathing rhythm.

Slowly—painstakingly—you tilted your head to look at your unwanted companion.

It was a man. A very attractive man, sleeping peacefully on his side, glasses perched askew on the nightstand. His hair was a soft mess, his breathing even, and his entire aura screamed gentle husband vibes.

Then recognition sucker-punched you in the gut.

No.

No.

It couldn’t be.

You blinked. Looked again. Replayed every horrible memory of that atrocious novel you had read, and then read again because you hated yourself.

It was Trey Clover.

Male lead. Gentleman. Human embodiment of a warm cup of tea. The guy who was in love with his villainess spouse (you remembered her being dramatic but competent) before the world went full dumpster fire.

Your breathing hitched. You stared down at your hands, and they stared back—perfectly manicured, dainty, soft hands that had never touched a single dirty dish or over-scrubbed countertop.

The reality hit you like a segway knight at full speed.

You’d been isekai’d.

You fought the urge to scream into the pillow. Was this some karmic punishment for returning that book? Was your snarky review in the Reddit thread too harsh? Because this? This was an unholy level of irony.

Trey stirred beside you, his brow furrowing slightly as his hand lazily reached for his glasses. He slid them on, blinking sleepily as his gaze landed on you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, groggy, and just a little raspy—the kind of voice you’d pay extra to have someone read you bedtime stories with. “You’re staring.”

For a moment, your brain blue-screened. Trey Clover—novel character and now your husband, apparently—was looking at you with concern, and all you could think was: At least he’s hot.

“…Nothing,” you croaked, swallowing down the rising tide of panic. “Just… processing.”

“Processing what?” he asked, sitting up slightly and rubbing his eyes, his entire demeanor radiating "adoring husband" energy.

You clenched the sheets in your fists, trying to will yourself to wake up from this insane fever dream. Unfortunately, the chandelier wasn’t disappearing, Trey wasn’t fading into mist, and your perfectly moisturized skin wasn’t breaking into your usual crusty dryness.

This was real.

And somehow, you were the villainess in a novel you’d once described as "a literary abomination designed to kill brain cells."

The sound of a soft knock at the bedroom door made you jump, nearly upsetting the tower of books you’d been flipping through in your attempt to figure out where in the dumpster fire of this timeline you were.

“Come in?” you called hesitantly, trying to shove the incriminating evidence of your non-villainess-like behavior—a half-written list titled HOW TO NOT DIE TRAGICALLY—under a pillow.

Trey stepped in, balancing a tray of food like he was auditioning for Husband of the Year. His hair was slightly mussed, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up just enough to show forearms that could inspire sonnets. The man was a walking Pinterest board, and it was unfair.

“I brought you something to eat,” he said with a small smile, setting the tray on the table. “You’ve been skipping meals, and that’s not like you.”

You laughed nervously, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “Oh, um, yeah. Upset stomach. You know how it is.”

Trey raised an eyebrow, his smile unwavering but his eyes far too knowing. “Sure. And I’ll be here while you eat, just to make sure you’re feeling better.”

Oh, no.

You stared at the tray like it had betrayed you. Soup, bread, and some suspiciously perfect desserts that looked like they had been made by the hands of an angel. You couldn’t say no without sounding even sketchier.

“Right,” you muttered, picking up the spoon with the grace of someone about to face a firing squad. As you sipped, Trey watched silently, his chin resting on one hand, his soft gaze pinned on you. The air felt so heavy you could’ve cut it with a butter knife.

“Are you going to go through with it?” he asked suddenly.

You froze mid-bite, the words hitting you like a frying pan to the face. “Go through with… what?”

“The divorce,” he said simply.

You choked on your soup. The spoon clattered back into the bowl as you grabbed a napkin, trying to avoid literally dying of shock. Divorce? Divorce?! That wasn’t in the plan! You knew what happened after the divorce—the villainess died, and you weren’t about to let fate steamroll you into an early grave, again.

“What? No! Of course not!” you sputtered, waving your hands in frantic denial. “Why would I want a divorce? You’re, uh, great! Fantastic! A literal dream husband!”

Trey blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion before his expression softened into something warmer, almost relieved. “You… want to work things out?”

“Yes!” you blurted, nodding with enough enthusiasm to give yourself whiplash. “Absolutely! Let’s work this out. Together. Like a team.”

His lips curved into a rare, genuine smile that nearly melted you on the spot. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead that left your brain doing cartwheels. “Alright. I’ll hold you to that. I’ll be back for dinner, so rest up until then.”

He left the room, and the moment the door clicked shut, you flopped back onto the bed like a deflated balloon. The pillow muffled your scream of embarrassment as you kicked your feet, equal parts flustered and mortified. What was that? Why did he have to be so sweet? How were you supposed to survive this level of tenderness without combusting?

The door creaked open again.

You froze mid-giggle, legs tangled in the sheets like a caught fish. Trey stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised and looking like he was about two seconds away from bursting into laughter. “Forgot my pen,” he said casually, strolling over to grab the item from the bedside table.

You wanted the floor to swallow you whole. “Oh. Uh. Right.”

He paused on his way out, leaning down to kiss your cheek with infuriating gentleness. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

And just like that, he was gone again, leaving you red-faced, flustered, and questioning every life choice that had led to this moment.

It had been such a nice meal. The kind where the food was good, the company better, and the wine just strong enough to make you feel warm and floaty but not stupid. Trey was smiling faintly at you over his plate, his rare but deeply satisfying I’m enjoying myself face in full effect, and you dared to think, Hey, maybe I can survive this isekai nonsense after all.

And then the restaurant door swung open, and your fragile peace shattered like a dropped wine glass.

The prince had arrived.

Trey’s face immediately darkened like a thunderstorm on the horizon, and you felt yourself lose a year of your life just from sheer dread. The prince was a walking disaster in human form, and you’d been hoping to avoid him like the plague. But the universe clearly hated you because here he was, sashaying through the restaurant like he owned the place.

“Oh no,” you whispered, gripping your fork like it could somehow protect you.

Trey’s jaw tightened as the prince spotted you both, his grin wide enough to make you wish the floor would open up and swallow you.

“Darlings!” the prince cried, crossing the room with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever off its leash. “Fancy seeing you here!”

You didn’t even get a chance to object before he grabbed a chair from a nearby table, spun it around dramatically, and wedged himself between you and Trey, plopping down like he’d been invited. Spoiler alert: he hadn’t.

“Your Highness,” Trey said through clenched teeth, managing to sound both polite and like he was ready to stab someone with a salad fork.

“Oh, come now, Trey,” the prince laughed, waving off the formality. “No need to be so stiff. After all, we’re practically family!”

You didn’t get the chance to ask how that made sense before he grabbed your hand—and Trey’s—planting a wet, sloppy kiss on each. The sound it made was unholy, like a boot pulling free from a swamp. You and Trey simultaneously stiffened, the same thought clearly running through your minds: Don’t cringe, don’t cringe, don’t cringe…

“I simply had to come over when I saw you two!” the prince gushed, oblivious to your visible discomfort. “The saintess—bless her kind, radiant heart—has been dying to see you both!”

You glanced at Trey, who was visibly restraining himself from rolling his eyes.

“She’s throwing a ball this weekend,” the prince continued, clasping his hands together like he was sharing the world’s most exciting news. “And you must come. Truly, it’d be… well, treasonous not to, considering we’re both inviting you!”

Ah, there it was. The veiled threat disguised as politeness. You hated that this guy was smart enough to wield his royal status as a weapon, even if he made everything sound like it came with a complimentary gift basket.

You forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look too much like a grimace. “We’d be honored, Your Highness.”

Trey shot you a subtle look, one that very clearly said Traitor, but you knew he agreed. Anything to avoid another round of Wet Hand Kisses.

“Wonderful!” the prince declared, clapping his hands together. “I knew you two would understand. You always were the reasonable ones.”

He finally stood up, ruffling Trey’s hair in a way that made his eye twitch before striding off like he hadn’t just hijacked your peaceful dinner.

As soon as the door swung shut behind him, you slumped back in your chair, utterly drained. “I feel like I need to bathe in holy water.”

Trey pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “I should’ve poisoned his dessert last time.”

You stared at him. “You what?”

“Nothing,” he said, picking up his fork like nothing had happened. “Let’s finish eating.”

You could still feel the ghost of the prince’s wet kiss on your hand, and you shuddered. “Do you think we can fake our deaths before Saturday?”

Trey actually looked like he was considering it.

The ball was, against all odds, actually enjoyable. The lights glittered like fairy dust, the music was just the right level of lively, and the wine was strong enough to turn your earlier dread into a warm, floaty haze. Trey was by your side, charming in his tailored suit, and for once, the prince and saintess were blissfully absent.

"Maybe they got lost," you whispered to Trey, leaning in conspiratorially. "Or better yet, maybe they found a better party and decided to leave us alone."

Trey smirked, sipping his wine. "If only we were that lucky."

Your hopes were dashed, naturally, when the prince appeared out of nowhere like some unholy summon. One second you were lifting a glass to your lips, and the next, your arm was being yanked so hard you almost spilled your drink.

“Come now, my dear!” the prince declared, grinning in a way that felt more like a threat than an invitation. “Dance with me!”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were being twirled onto the dance floor. Across the room, you caught a glimpse of Trey being snatched by the saintess, who looked like she had all the coordination of a baby deer on ice.

The prince pulled you in too close, his breath an unholy concoction of garlic and what might’ve been sour milk. You tried to politely lean back, but he just leaned closer, grinning obliviously.

“You’re stiff, my dear,” he said, his voice low and entirely too sultry for someone who smelled like a kitchen accident. “Loosen up!”

Meanwhile, Trey was enduring his own nightmare. The saintess stepped on his foot with her stiletto for the fourth time, and you could swear you saw him wince in actual pain. She was chattering nonstop about something—maybe puppies, maybe world peace—you couldn’t hear over the sound of her heels clobbering the floor.

When the ordeal finally ended, you staggered back to Trey, feeling like you’d aged ten years. He looked equally frazzled, rubbing his shoulder like it had been yanked out of its socket.

“I’d say that was horrible,” he said under his breath, “but I think ‘horrible’ is too kind.”

Before you could respond, the saintess suddenly tripped. She wasn’t even near you—she was all the way across the room—but she hit the ground with a dramatic thud, and her dress promptly ripped down the side.

You blinked. “Wait, what just—”

“I knew it!” she screeched, pointing an accusatory finger at you from the floor. “You sabotaged me!”

The prince, for once, looked baffled. He glanced between her and you like he was trying to solve a complicated riddle. “But… she wasn’t even near you?”

“SABOTAGE!” the saintess shrieked again, her voice cracking.

The original villainess would’ve taken the high road, maybe pretended to be insulted or outraged. You, however, were just drunk enough to find the entire thing hilarious.

You laughed. Loudly.

And to your absolute delight, the crowd followed suit. Quiet snickers turned into outright guffaws as everyone around you dissolved into laughter.

The saintess gawked, looking like a wet cat as she scrambled to her feet. “You’re all… MONSTERS!” she shrieked, before fleeing the room with a level of dramatics that would make even a soap opera jealous.

The prince hesitated, torn between chasing after her or staying to glower at you and Trey. Finally, with a sigh that sounded suspiciously like “I hate my life,” he ran after her, disappearing into the night.

“Well,” Trey said, offering his hand with a faint smirk, “that was… something. Care to salvage the evening with a proper dance?”

You took his hand, letting him spin you onto the floor. The music softened, the crowd fading into the background as Trey pulled you close.

“You look stunning tonight,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear as you danced.

The compliment hit you like a sucker punch, leaving you so dazed that, in your flustered state, you impulsively dipped him instead of the other way around.

Trey laughed, eyes crinkling with genuine delight. “What are you doing?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, cheeks burning as you held the pose.

But to your surprise, he didn’t protest. He let you dip him, even laughing as you pulled him back up. And when the dance ended, he kissed your cheek, sending your heart into a full-on meltdown.

“That,” he said, his voice filled with amusement, “was the most fun I’ve had at a ball in years.”

The tea party was a picturesque affair, all pastel tablecloths, delicate porcelain cups, and the kind of floral arrangements that screamed wealth and good taste. You were seated with Riddle, Cater, and Che’nya at a table tucked under a wisteria-laden gazebo, trying your best to survive the endless parade of gossip and sweets.

The conversation drifted naturally, like it always did, until someone—probably Cater—brought up the topic of Trey.

“Y’know,” Cater began, swirling his tea with exaggerated nonchalance, “Trey’s been looking at you like you personally hung the moon and stars lately. It’s kinda adorable.”

Che’nya leaned over, grinning like the Cheshire Cat he was. “So deep in love, it’s practically a romantic trench. What’s your secret, huh? Love potion? A really good pie?”

You chuckled, brushing off the comment, but then you glanced across the garden—and froze.

There he was, Trey Clover, the ridiculously perfect husband material that fate had handed you in this bizarre isekai life. He was standing a little ways off, chatting with a few nobles, but his gaze was unmistakably fixed on you.

When your eyes met, he smiled. Not just any smile—a warm, genuine, I-would-die-for-you-and-bake-you-cookies-afterwards kind of smile. It hit you like a runaway carriage.

Your chest tightened, your stomach flipped, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to pause.

Oh no.

Oh no.

You were in so deep.

Like, Titanic-hitting-the-iceberg-and-sinking-to-the-ocean-floor deep.

“Uh oh,” Cater sang, leaning closer with a smirk that could only mean trouble. “I know that look. Someone just had their Hallmark movie epiphany.”

You snapped out of it, cheeks burning. “What look? I don’t have a look!”

“Oh, you totally do,” Che’nya chimed in, his grin somehow wider. “It’s all dreamy and starry-eyed, like you’re in a fairy tale. Which, I guess you kinda are?”

Riddle, ever the straight man in these situations, regarded you with a mix of pity and exasperation. “Please tell me you’re not about to let these two meddle in your relationship.”

But before you could defend yourself, Cater was already leaning forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Cay-Cay’s got you covered! Wanna confess? I can totally set the mood—candles, roses, soft music…”

“I—what?” you stammered, still too dazed by your revelation to form a coherent response.

“That’s a yes!” Che’nya declared, clapping his hands together. “Alright, let’s brainstorm. Hot air balloon confession? Dramatic rain scene? Ooh, what about—”

“Absolutely not,” Riddle interrupted, his tone sharp as ever. He turned to you, expression weary. “I’ll make sure they don’t do anything absurd, but honestly, why not just tell Trey yourself? He’s your husband.”

You groaned, sinking into your chair as Cater and Che’nya continued to scheme with increasingly outlandish ideas. Meanwhile, Riddle looked at you like you’d just wired your entire fortune to a scammer and promised to fix it for you later.

Across the garden, Trey caught your gaze again, his brows furrowing slightly in concern at your flustered state. He started to make his way over, and your heart leapt into your throat.

Oh no.

Whatever happened next, you were absolutely not ready.

Riddle had been firm, as always. “A pie,” he said with the kind of authority you’d expect from someone sentencing a man to death. “It’s simple, heartfelt, and Trey would appreciate the effort. Not that I have time to indulge in frivolities like this, but… you’re lucky I know the basics.”

Turns out, Riddle did not know the basics. And neither did you.

What followed could only be described as a culinary catastrophe.

The kitchen looked like it had been struck by a flour tornado, with you and Riddle at its chaotic epicenter. Your attempt at pie dough was a war crime in the making—half stuck to the counter, half to your hands, and none of it remotely edible.

“Why is it stretching?” Riddle hissed, his face as red as his hair, holding one end of the dough while you gripped the other. The elastic monstrosity between you refused to snap, stretching longer and longer like some unholy noodle.

“I don’t know!” you shrieked back, your voice an octave higher than usual. “I followed the instructions! Mostly! Kind of!”

“‘Kind of’ isn’t good enough! Put some force into it!”

Riddle tugged one end of the dough like he was in a tug-of-war with a particularly stubborn ghost. You yanked back, and the dough elongated even further, wobbling ominously in the air.

That’s when Trey walked in.

He stopped in the doorway, taking in the absolute chaos: the flour-streaked counter, the rolling pin embedded in what used to be a bag of sugar, and you and Riddle holding opposite ends of the world’s saddest dough.

“What… exactly is happening here?” Trey asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You froze, still clutching the dough. Riddle looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“We’re baking,” you managed to squeak out.

Trey blinked, then burst into laughter, the sound warm and rich like honey. “Is that what you’re calling this?”

His laughter didn’t help your embarrassment, but the way he stepped forward, gently taking the dough from you and Riddle like a benevolent baking god, did. “Alright, let’s see if we can salvage this. Flour, water… and patience. You two watch and learn.”

You stood back, flustered and hopelessly smitten as Trey worked his magic. In minutes, he turned your disaster into a perfectly respectable pie crust. He even smiled at you both as if to say nice try, kids, and it made you feel oddly warm inside.

Still too mortified to admit the pie was meant for him, you let him finish it while Riddle quietly excused himself, muttering about overdue paperwork.

You did feel for Riddle, poor guy was stuck babysitting the Prince after all. Maybe the dough was sad because of his stress.

Later, Cater and Che’nya were far too pleased with themselves when they found you.

“So,” Cater said, grinning, “how’s Operation Swoon going?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you grumbled, remembering the dough debacle.

Che’nya’s grin widened. “Lucky for you, we’ve got Plan B: flowers! Romantic, classic, and impossible to mess up.”

You weren’t sure about that last part, but their enthusiasm was infectious. You ended up at a florist with Cater coaching you through every step, from picking out the blooms to tying a ribbon. By the time you were done, the bouquet looked gorgeous.

When you handed the flowers to Trey later, he looked… stunned. His eyes widened, his cheeks turned faintly pink, and his smile was so soft and genuine that you nearly dropped dead on the spot.

“For me?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, suddenly nervous. “Yeah. Just, uh, wanted to thank you. For everything. You know.”

Trey cradled the bouquet like it was something precious. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot.”

And when he smiled at you again, you realized that maybe, just maybe, Cater and Che’nya’s meddling wasn’t so bad after all.

You were practically vibrating with excitement as you entered the restaurant, rare flower in hand. You’d spent far too much money on it, but it was worth it. Trey deserved nothing less. The merchant had waxed poetic about how the flower symbolized eternal devotion, and you figured it was the perfect way to set the stage for your long-overdue confession.

Trey was already seated at the table, his calm demeanor somehow both comforting and devastatingly attractive. When he saw you approach, his eyes softened, and that sweet smile of his—the one that made your knees weak—spread across his face.

You handed him the flower, and his expression lit up as though you’d just handed him the moon.

“For me?” he asked, his voice full of surprise and warmth.

“Of course,” you said, a little shy but mostly proud of yourself. “I thought it suited you.”

His fingers brushed yours as he took the flower, and before you knew it, you were holding hands across the table. The atmosphere felt perfect—soft candlelight, his warm gaze locked on yours, and your heart pounding like it had just discovered cardio.

This was it. The moment to confess that you loved him.

You opened your mouth, ready to pour your heart out—

And then she appeared.

The saintess, an uninvited hurricane in the form of a woman, swept into the room with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. You barely had time to process her arrival before she snatched the flower from Trey’s hand like a seagull stealing a french fry.

“Oh, Trey, you shouldn’t have!” she gushed, clutching the flower to her chest like a deranged soap opera villain. “How thoughtful of you to get this for me!”

Trey’s face froze in what could only be described as polite murder. His jaw tightened, his grip on the table visibly white-knuckled.

You, however, were already halfway to a breakdown. “Excuse me?” you sputtered.

The saintess ignored you entirely.

Enter the prince, the human equivalent of a golden retriever who’d been hit on the head one too many times. He trailed behind her, clearly regretting his existence. For once, he seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation and awkwardly tried to mediate.

“Ah, maybe I should—uh—just give this back,” he mumbled, reaching for the flower.

The saintess responded by shoving him.

The prince, unprepared for even the gentlest resistance, stumbled directly into Trey’s arms.

Trey, now holding a grown man like a bridal bouquet, froze. His eyes darted to you, silently screaming what do I do with this?

Before he could decide, the prince looked up at him, smiled coyly, and winked.

You might’ve laughed if the saintess hadn’t chosen that exact moment to drape herself across you.

“Oh, my dear friend,” she simpered, batting her lashes, “surely you understand Trey’s affection for me. You’ll support us, won’t you?”

You were too stunned to respond, stuck holding the saintess like an overly affectionate sloth. Across the table, Trey looked like he was begging whatever gods existed for an escape route.

Finally, something in Trey snapped. Gently—yet firmly—he set the prince in his seat like a toddler being put in timeout. Then, without a word, he reached across, grabbed the saintess by the arm, and unceremoniously deposited her in her own chair.

“You’ll have to excuse us,” Trey said, his voice smooth but his expression pure I’m done with this nonsense. He grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the restaurant, not even sparing a glance back.

Oh, and he definitely took the flower back.

In the carriage, Trey was silent, his expression unreadable. You hesitated before asking, “Are you okay?”

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just… tired.”

“Of what?”

“Of not having moments with you for myself,” he said, his voice soft but full of frustration. “Every time I try to enjoy being with you, someone interrupts. I just… I want you. Just you.”

Your heart practically melted on the spot. Overwhelmed by his honesty, you leaned forward and kissed him—a gentle, tentative gesture that said everything you’d been too nervous to put into words.

Trey froze for a moment, then pulled you closer, kissing you again, this time deeper and with so much emotion that you thought your brain might short-circuit. His hands cradled your face, and the world outside the carriage ceased to exist.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his smile so radiant it made your heart skip. “I guess this means you’re mine?”

You nodded, breathless.

“And I’m yours,” he murmured, sealing the confession with another kiss that left you thoroughly, blissfully dazed.

It was supposed to be a simple stroll through the common garden—just you and Trey enjoying a rare moment of peace. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and you were basking in the warmth of Trey's smile when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

The prince.

And worse, the pebble.

You recognized it instantly—the cursed rock from the original novel, the one destined to send the prince spiraling into a tragic, fatal end. It glittered ominously on the path, as if taunting fate.

The prince, blissfully unaware, strutted forward like he owned the place. He stepped right onto the pebble, his foot slipping out from under him with comical precision.

In that split second, you knew what you had to do. Annoying as he was, no one deserved to die because of a glorified piece of gravel.

You lunged forward, grabbing the prince by the arm and yanking him upright just before disaster struck.

He looked at you, wide-eyed, for all of two seconds before breaking into a toothy grin. “Ah, so this is love,” he declared, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “Fear not, my dear! Your feelings for me are obvious, and I, in my infinite generosity, shall grant you the honor of becoming my bride!”

Trey, who had been watching this unfold with his usual calm, suddenly stiffened. His hand slipped into yours, his grip firm but not unkind as he gently pulled you closer.

“Your Highness,” Trey began, his voice polite but laced with steel, “I think you may have misunderstood something.”

“Oh?” The prince arched a brow, clearly oblivious to the warning signs.

“She's already married,” Trey said, his tone so calm and measured it was borderline terrifying. “To me.”

The prince’s eyes lit up with excitement, not deterred in the slightest. “A rivalry for their love, then? Excellent! Let the best man win!”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Riddle—ever the voice of reason (or exhaustion)—strode into the fray like a man who had been dealing with this nonsense for far too long.

“Your Highness,” Riddle snapped, looking entirely done with life. “What in the sevens are you doing?” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the prince by the collar and dragged him away like a scolding parent hauling a toddler out of the candy aisle.

“You can’t just propose to married people!” Riddle hissed as they disappeared down the path.

Left in their wake, you spotted Cater and Che’nya lounging under a tree, shamelessly munching on popcorn. Cater caught your eye and waved, looking far too entertained by the whole ordeal.

“Did you see Trey’s face?” Che’nya whispered loudly. “I’d give it a solid nine out of ten on the jealousy scale.”

“Totally,” Cater agreed. “Hey, Alfred!” he called to the butler nearby. “Get me a glass of wine; this show’s getting good!”

Before you could decide whether to laugh or cringe, Trey’s hand gently tilted your chin, drawing your attention back to him.

“Focus on me,” he murmured, his gaze locking onto yours.

And oh, jealous Trey was adorable. His usual calm demeanor was tinged with a possessiveness that made your heart skip several beats.

Caught up in the moment, you leaned forward and kissed him, a quick but sweet gesture that left him blinking in surprise before a soft smile spread across his face.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Cater almost spill his wine in excitement, while Che’nya clapped like a seal.

“Now that’s spicy!” Che’nya crowed.

“I need another glass,” Cater sighed dramatically, as if the sheer romance was too much for his delicate heart.

But you didn’t care. Trey’s arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and for once, the rest of the world faded away.

The war room was dead silent, the kind of silence so heavy you could hear the shuffle of maps and the scratch of quills on parchment. Every important figure of the empire was present—Trey and you, the Emperor and Empress, military generals whose scowls could crack stone, the Pope looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else, and, shockingly, even the Prince, for once not actively trying to ruin someone’s day.

Strategies were discussed in grim tones. Supply lines, terrain advantages, possible reinforcement numbers—you and Trey were fully immersed in weighing the support your duchy could offer. For once, even the Prince managed to look engaged, though he was suspiciously chewing on the end of his quill like a kid stuck in detention.

Then, like an uninvited storm, the doors slammed open.

“Hellooooooo!”

Every head in the room turned as the Saintess waltzed in, an hour late, as if this were a garden party and not a high-stakes war council. She was dressed in what could only be described as a fever dream of bad taste: a dress so garish and bedazzled it could probably be seen from orbit, complete with absurd feathered accessories sticking out at odd angles like a startled peacock.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she sang, twirling unnecessarily as if this was a runway. “I couldn’t decide which dress to wear. Do you think this one looks good?”

The silence was palpable, charged with a collective secondhand embarrassment that could power an entire city.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, wondering if you could claim an "upset stomach" for the fifth time this month. Then, unable to stop yourself, you deadpanned, “Yes. It’d make a great enemy flag.”

Trey choked on a laugh, quickly covering it with a cough. The Pope crossed himself, possibly praying for patience. One of the military generals muttered something under his breath, hand twitching toward the hilt of his sword. The Prince just buried his face in his hands.

The Saintess, predictably, burst into tears. “You’re so mean! I’m just trying to brighten up this dreary meeting!”

The Emperor looked deeply, soul-crushingly confused, glancing at the generals as if to ask, Does this happen often? Meanwhile, the Empress, seated beside him, was gripping the armrest of her chair so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

Trey sighed and leaned closer to you. “I’ll handle it,” he murmured, giving you a quick nod before standing.

He approached her like one might approach a wild animal, hands raised in surrender. “Saintess, perhaps we could discuss this outside—”

But no sooner had he stepped within arm’s reach did she trip. On purpose.

In what could only be described as an Olympian-level act of self-preservation, Trey sidestepped so swiftly she ended up flailing through the air like a failed acrobat.

She landed directly on top of the Emperor.

The entire room froze.

The Emperor looked down at the Saintess sprawled across his lap with the bewilderment of someone who just found a raccoon in their bed. The generals were wide-eyed, clearly waiting for his reaction before deciding if they needed to draw their swords. The Pope had started sweating through his robes, clutching his staff like it was his last lifeline.

And then, like an avenging goddess, the Empress rose from her seat.

Without a single word, she grabbed the Saintess by her feathered hairpiece and hauled her up like a disobedient child. The Saintess shrieked, limbs flailing, but the Empress dragged her toward the door with a grim determination.

“OUT.”

The doors slammed shut behind them, and the silence that followed was deafening.

Trey cleared his throat, brushing off his sleeves as if nothing had happened. “Well,” he said, returning to his seat beside you. “That was… eventful.”

“Eventful?” you hissed, elbowing him. “She just dive-bombed the Emperor!”

Trey shrugged, lips twitching. “And yet here we are, still alive. I’d call that a win.”

Across the table, the Emperor straightened his robes, trying to reclaim what little dignity he had left. “Shall we… continue?” he asked, though his tone suggested he wanted nothing more than a stiff drink and a nap.

You nodded, biting your lip to suppress a laugh as the meeting resumed. Somehow, against all odds, you managed to get back to planning strategy. But you knew this story was one for the history books. Or at least for drunken retellings later.

The negotiation room was a grand affair, with gilded walls, an impossibly long table, and an air of tension so thick you could slice it with a butter knife.

The opposing kingdom’s crown princess sat across from your delegation, radiating intelligence and poise. Her every word was measured, her presence commanding, and she somehow managed to make a simple quill look like a weapon of mass destruction.

Meanwhile, your prince was... spinning in his chair.

“Wheeeee!”

You felt your soul leave your body.

“Your Highness,” Riddle hissed, his voice laced with the kind of fury only a man on the verge of a migraine could muster. “Compose yourself!”

The prince paused mid-spin, blinking like he’d just remembered where he was. “Right, right. Negotiations. Totally got this.” He picked up a quill and twirled it between his fingers like a toddler pretending to be an adult.

You buried your face in your hands, quietly mourning the future of your kingdom.

Across the table, their saint was the picture of grace, clasping their hands as though ready to bestow divine blessings upon the room. They exuded an aura of peace and righteousness that made you think, Ah, yes, this is what a saint should look like.

And then there was your saintess.

She was currently leaning against the wall, dramatically fanning herself with a peacock-feathered fan that you were pretty sure wasn’t hers. She’d arrived late, claiming she’d been “blessed by the spirits of fashion,” and was wearing a gown so covered in rhinestones that it could probably be seen from space.

You caught Trey’s eye from across the table. He looked entirely too amused, like he was moments away from bursting into laughter. You glared at him, silently begging him to take this seriously.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching upward as if to say, I’m trying.

Thankfully, the Empress had come along for damage control. She sat at the head of the table, calm and unflappable, effortlessly steering the conversation back on track whenever your prince derailed it with comments like, “So, how do you guys feel about dragons?”

When the opposing kingdom’s crown princess suggested an ambassador exchange as part of the peace treaty, the Empress visibly perked up.

“That’s an excellent idea,” she said smoothly. “In fact, we have the perfect candidate.”

You felt a sliver of hope. Maybe she’d suggest Riddle—he was intelligent, responsible, and would undoubtedly represent your kingdom well. Or Trey, whose calm demeanor and charm could win over anyone. Or—dare you dream—maybe even you, since you were clearly the only one in this circus who had a shred of common sense. And the two of you could move away from this hellhole.

“We’ll send the saintess,” the Empress announced, her voice dripping with what could only be described as malicious glee.

You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

The crown princess on the other side of the table looked mildly alarmed. “Um,” she began, clearly searching for a polite way to decline.

“She’ll be an excellent cultural ambassador,” the Empress continued, her smile widening. “She’s... unforgettable.”

Riddle’s eye twitched, but he said nothing. Trey looked down at the table, probably to hide his grin.

The saintess, oblivious to the underlying implications, squealed in delight. “Oh my gosh, finally! I’ve always wanted to travel!”

The opposing kingdom reluctantly agreed—probably under the assumption that taking her would somehow count as reparations.

When you all finally returned home, the atmosphere was noticeably lighter, as though a glittery, rhinestone-encrusted weight had been lifted off your collective shoulders.

Trey leaned over in the carriage, his voice low and amused. “Well, I’d call that a success.”

“Success?” you laughed. “We basically tricked another kingdom into taking her off our hands.”

Trey’s smile was soft as he reached for your hand. “And we averted a war in the process.”

You sighed, but your heart skipped a beat when his thumb brushed against your knuckles. Maybe you could live with this version of “success.”

Without the saintess egging him on, the prince had downgraded from menace to society to mildly annoying NPC. He still popped up every now and then, offering unsolicited advice on topics he clearly didn’t understand, but Riddle—bless his overworked soul—had finally had enough. As royal advisor, he slapped the prince with permanent probation, effectively keeping him confined to paperwork and far, far away from you and Trey.

Life, for once, was peaceful.

So peaceful, in fact, that you and Trey found yourselves back at that restaurant—the same one that had become the backdrop for two very traumatic encounters. It felt like tempting fate, but Trey, ever the optimist, assured you that lightning wouldn’t strike thrice.

And for once, he was right.

The food was good, the atmosphere was cozy, and not a single insufferable royal barged in to ruin the evening. You both laughed, reminisced, and indulged in desserts that Trey—being the baking connoisseur he was—had plenty of opinions about.

By the time you left the restaurant, the streets were quiet, bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. The air was crisp but not cold, and everything felt oddly serene, like the universe was apologizing for all the nonsense it had previously thrown your way.

As you walked side by side, Trey suddenly stopped.

You turned to face him, confused. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he knelt down on one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket.

Your brain short-circuited.

“Trey—”

“Before you say anything,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with emotion, “I just want you to know that despite how things started between us... I’ve never regretted a single moment with you.” He looked up at you, his green eyes warm and sincere. “You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be, and if you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life making you just as happy.”

He opened the box, revealing a ring—simple, elegant, and undeniably perfect. “So... will you marry me? Again?”

You stared at him, your chest tight with emotions you couldn’t even begin to untangle. And then you laughed—because how else were you supposed to process the sheer ridiculousness of everything that had led to this moment?

“Yes,” you said, your voice trembling with joy. “Of course, yes.”

He stood, sliding the ring onto your finger with a smile that could have melted glaciers.

And then he kissed you—soft, slow, and so full of love that it felt like the world around you ceased to exist.

Somewhere in the distance, you thought you heard a cat knock over a trash can, but nothing could ruin this moment.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[cantareincminor]

Day 10: Saddest Moment

By far, Twilight's backstory mini-arc.

These images speak for themselves.

...

...

...

Honestly if it weren't for Franky providing a bit of comedic relief (and hope for the future, since we know they will meet again) in that mini-arc, Twilight's backstory would have been almost too crushing to bear.

The panels where he walks by those kids and tells the intelligence officer "No reason. No reason at all" is the most powerful set of images in the series to me, so far. Which is why I made it my tumblr background image a while ago. Endo is a master of using "show not tell" to tug at the emotions and infer what the characters are thinking and experiencing. I love how much is left unsaid in so much of the backstory arc, through blank white space or static-filled images or broken up images (it's not shown in this post, but on the day Twilight meets the intelligence officer to report for duty, there is a broken up image of a clock near where they are standing).

Even in the sadness, though, there is some hope from the perspective of the reader. Because in the first chapter of the manga, we hear about Twilight's inner motivation, to create a world where children don't have to cry. From the first chapter, we know he has already been at this overarching mission for quite some time, and he's very good at his job. He also has just saved an orphan from a dangerous crime lord, and decided to spare her from the perils of his new mission.

...

And this is what convinces Anya to stay with this strange man who appeared out of nowhere, has no idea how to be a parent, and put her in danger from the start. To trust him and start thinking of him as her Papa.

I love this story so much!

[trivia-yandere]

payment plan

your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to his brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity. @momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @minshookie29

valentine’s day masterlist | part 2

word count: 5.509

warning: non-con/coercion, cmnf, smut, dub-con, degradation/humiliation, dominant jin, submissive reader, collaring, affair, unsolicited touching, impregnation kink, thigh riding, oral sex/deep throat, dirty talk, kissing, creampie,

“Your collar…” Jin murmurs, his eyes staring at the pink collar he has given you. It has diamonds wrapped around and in the middle, is a gold shaped heart. “...is so cute.”

“Thank you, sir.” you murmur, your thighs clenching together nervously underneath Jin’s intense gaze.

“Isn’t it sad that your husband is away?” Jin scoffs, a wicked smirk forming onto his lips - rosy and plump.

Kim Seokjin, tall with a slender build. Dark hair and even darker eyes. He’s beautiful - utterly gorgeous. His beauty is often compared to that of a God; ethereal. He carried himself as such, strutting into any room and completely holding the attention from everyone occupying it.

Kim Seokjin, wealthy - one of the richest men in the nation. He owned several businesses that thrived; all of which funded his life. He had enough generational wealth that his great-great grandchildren wouldn’t have to work - and he’d often boast about that fact. Kim Industries were one of the most well known and luxurious industries to be a part of - employees were even looked at as better off just for being apart of the business. 

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law. The very man who stood besides your husband, his elder brother, while you and he were wed. He gave a speech about the love you and your husband had was that of true love and raised his glass to give you a celebratory toast - “to my sister-in-law, Y/N. Welcome to the family.” 

Kim Seokjin, your brother-in-law, and the same man you are having an affair with. 

“It is sad, sir.”

Jin tilts his head a bit. “Then why don’t you look it?” he questions. “Maybe you’re happy to be with me instead of your good for nothing husband?”

You swallow at Jin’s harsh words, appearing physically ill at them. Jin doesn’t care, however, and openly berates his brother around you at any given moment.

It was 5 months prior when your husband came to you and confessed that he was completely broke - that you and he had not a dollar to your names. It came as a shock. No, your husband was not as wealthy as Jin - but he was nowhere near broke. Their father had helped start up a business before allowing them out in the world. While Jin branched out and became a big name in multiple industries, your husband was smaller. However, the Kim name had benefits. 

“How are we broke?” you asked with wide eyes, not believing your ears. “We have a few  hundred thousands saved up for a rainy day.”

Your husband had confided in you that the money was gone - everything that was saved has since been wiped away. 

The home you and he bought had to be sold, along with the cars. You were homeless, and the only way your husband was willing to turn was his younger brother.

Seokjin had welcomed you two with open arms and gave his brother a job at one of the many businesses he owned - it was an ego killer. Your husband was the older brother, but yet, the younger one was more successful and thriving. You and your husband moved into Seokjin’s home (even if he did have enough money to lend you a vacation home) and allowed you to borrow his cars whenever needed.

The hours your husband worked were always long, working from sun up to sun down. He came home exhausted and didn’t want to do anything but rest - and you understood. You contemplated asking Jin if there were any available openings in his business for you to work, but your husband shot you down. “I’m the man, Y/N. I have to be the one providing for you.”

As much as you appreciated the efforts your husband set in place, you wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth - that you trusting him got you nowhere. You were homeless, staying in a (large mansion, yes) with his brother, becoming a complete burden on him. 

Your feelings were never stated aloud, but it showed in your actions. You loved your husband to death truly, but you didn’t want to be around him. You soon got your own room in the mansion and to keep yourself busy, decided to take on chores. You cleaned from top to bottom and cooked constantly. As much as you were annoyed with your husband, you always assured he had three meals a day that you cooked personally.

“I am happy to be with you.” you murmur to Jin, understanding that it’s what he wants to hear. Despite being highly successful and wealthy, hearing that he was better than his elder brother brought satisfaction over Kim Seokjin.

“I know you are.” Jin brings a hand up to touch your cheek softly. “Isn’t this why you allow me to do whatever I want to you? Because my good for nothing brother puts his lovely wife…” Jin trails his hand down to your collared neck. “...in the hands of another man.”

You swallow the lump in your throat nervously. 

“Nothing in this world is free, Y/N-ah.” you recall Jin speaking those very words to you for the first time. You had just gotten out of the shower, strolling into your bedroom in nothing but a robe to find the man on your bed. He sits poshly, waiting for you. “I give my brother a job, a place to stay and in return…” Jin trailed off, having since pushed himself from your bed to come to you and without a warning, hands dipped between your robe.

Jin never forgot to remind you that you lived in his home - that you husband (though his  brother) worked right under him and if he truly desired, could fire him at any given moment just because. 

Maybe that’s why you never told Jin no - that you allowed him to touch you. In the beginning, it was only that; touching. He would come up behind you while you washed the dishes and press himself firmly against you, his hands gripping your waist before they rub up your sides - but then he’d leave you be. 

But of course, with you never stopping him - it escalated. Jin was no longer satisfied with just touching you because what was the fun in that? Your husband's work load became longer until he had no days off - and he never went against it. That only meant that you were alone with Jin more often. 

“You keep clenching your legs together.” Jin notes. “Are you rubbing them together because you want some type of friction?” he then shakes his head with a scoff. “Just like a whore would.”

Jin turns away from you and ventures into the bedroom - his bedroom. You swallow, now remembering that you and he were just in the hallway of the large mansion. “Come.”

And you do, following him into his bedroom. You never been inside his room before - he always came to yours. But it’s large and as luxurious as the rest of his home. His bed is large - possibly a California king - and it sits right in the middle of the room and behind it is a large window that takes up nearly the whole wall. It’s snowing, the trees outside are covered in beautiful white snow and the amount of it covers the ground completely. You are in awe at the view that Seokin has just outside his window that has such beautiful natural light that there wasn’t any need for one inside the room to be on.

Your eyes scan over the rest of the room and it’s then you notice just how it’s covered in mirrors - even on the ceiling. You wonder if this is a room Seokjin sleeps in, or just takes whatever flings he has.  

“Come.” Jin repeats, venturing towards the left of his room to a cushioned seat - it’s gray and matches his bed perfectly. He takes a seat, eyebrows lifting for you to come to him. “I’m glad you wore the lingerie I bought for you. Pink is so cute on your skin.”

Jin’s complement causes your body to flush with heat. You could never grow accustomed to it - maybe it’s the way he speaks. He’s always so smooth and his words come out so natural.

“Sit.” Jin commands and you venture over to him. His eyes lower to your crotch, satisfied with himself that he got crotchless lingerie for you to wear. As much as he enjoyed your naked figure, there was something about the pink hue against your skin that he loves to stare at.

“On my thigh.” Jin commands once more and you know where he’s getting at. You swallow once more, seating yourself on his clothed thigh.

Jin loved when you were naked - or nearly - and he was fully clothed. There was something about getting you out of your clothes that drove him crazy, even if he was able to mask it perfectly - and you never fought him about it, either. You were the perfect submissive woman he needed - and the fact that you weren’t his woman made it better.

“Don’t just sit there shy, Y/N.” Jin speaks. He widens his legs, manspreading to get comfortable on the chair. “Go ahead and rub yourself on my thigh. It has to feel better than squeezing your legs together.”

You don’t fight Jin - you never do. Your hips begin to buckle. You never liked when Jin’s eyes were on you - they were so dark and voyeuristic; always watching you whenever he saw fit. However, there’s nothing you could ever say to him about it - he made sure to remind you just who signs your husbands paychecks.

Every Time you do this with Jin - cheat on your husband with his brother - it always ends with you regretting it. But, in the moment, you don’t allow yourself to ever deny him - you tell yourself because your life depends on him, but there was another side of you. The reality of it all that you were enjoying this - secretly enjoying the affair and how scandalous it was. You enjoyed the way Jin would touch you, sometimes even sneaking touches when his brother was around.

“You’re so wet, Y/N. You’re ruining my suit pants. It’s expensive - far more than anything your husband can afford.”

You think Jin enjoys talking down to his brother but cannot understand why. Your husband never does, you note, and when they’re around one another they appear to be close; often laughing and sharing stories of their childhood.

Jin places a hand on your thigh to squeeze it. “Go faster.”

You do as you’re told, a low groan releasing from your lips. You bite your lips to hold back another, but Jin slaps your thigh. “Stop hiding your moans. I want to hear you.” 

You moan a little louder, the friction against your clit feeling just right. You begin to rock your hips in circles, whining at how good it truly felt - and how pathetic you were for allowing this to happen.  

Jin’s eyes darken and he licks his plump lips. There was nothing like a woman - someone like you exactly - grinding against his thigh and chasing her own orgasm. You were considered off-limits - not only a married woman, but a woman who is married to his brother. You were like a forbidden fruit, something so tempting but he shouldn’t have; out of his reach.

But, you weren’t that. Nothing was out of Kim Seokjin’s reach - not even you. You wore the collar that he gave you willingly, along with the lingerie and now, your pussy is drenched and staining his suit pants. “Go ahead and cum for me, Y/N. I know you want to.” Jin says, squeezing your thigh even harder in encouragement. 

Your pussy is so warm and wet; it drenches through Jin’s suit pants and he can feel just how excited you are on his own thigh. 

Jin loves to watch you - loves to watch you come undone just for him. You grind against his thigh harder, whimpering freely as your eyes begin to roll in the back of your head.

Jin slides two fingers beneath your grinding pussy to have a feel of your wet clit and it takes everything in him to not groan at the juices that coat his fingers. “How slutty.” Jin’s voice is raspy as he responds to you.

Your body shudders with goosebumps with how deep Seokjin’s voice becomes. You’re now grinding against Jin’s fingers and you cum almost instantly, a shrill cry releasing from your throat.

Jin places his fingers into his mouth and hums. “How sweet you are, Y/N, cumming all over the place.” he pops his fingers from his mouth. “I let you cum, Y/N. I want you to do the same.”

“Yes, sir-”

Jin is already pushing you off of him and forcing you to your knees. Your eyes open instantly when your knees hit the cold floor, but you don’t protest. 

Jin shakes his head while a smirk forms onto his lips. “You’re so obedient, Y/N. You do everything I tell you to do without question.” he then places a hand against your cheek. “Isn’t that right?”

You nod your head. “That’s right, sir.” you respond. 

Jin hums, his eyes zoning in on your face. His thumb traces your lips softly for a bit, and you’re confused as to what he’s doing and what the hold up was. “I was thinking about giving your husband a raise. He’s been doing such a good job lately.”

There’s malice in Jin’s tone as he speaks; spite. He scoffs a bit after he says it and you swallow at what he’s about to say next in anticipation. “Depends on how well you treat me, Y/N.”

And there it was - you’ve known as much. Jin wasn’t doing anything out of the pure kindness of his heart; he was sleeping with his brother's wife after all. This was nothing but a game to him - whatever issues he had with his brother, you’d never know. 

There’s nothing for you to say in response to Jin. You only nod your head, your hands tangling with his suit pants to take him out. Jin watches you with fierce eyes, never leaving you once. 

Your hands are trembling under his gaze, but this isn’t something that you need to mess up.

It’s sad - and you cannot be upset with anyone but yourself. You’ve allowed Jin to grow comfortable with disrespecting your marriage - you allowed him to talk down about your husband to the point that he does it constantly, even in moments such as this. There’s a part of you that hates yourself for allowing yourself to be used by this man.

But then the other part of you is attempting to give yourself grace. The other side of you wanted to blame your husband for losing everything in the marriage; so much so that you felt like you needed to do this with Jin so the man wouldn’t grow spiteful - so you could remain in his home while your husband continued to work in his brother's company. 

Jin notices your internal dialogue as you begin to remove his cock from his underwear, but he doesn’t bring himself to care much. After all, he never heard a no from you - you gave him what he wanted without a fight.  

Jin was no monster - but you weren’t a saint either. You moaned for him loudly when he was inside of you. You begged for more when you were drunk off of pure pleasure. Your fingernails scarred his back and your juices would stain his clothing.

You wanted this just as badly as Jin did - you were just a married woman who, at the end of it all, had to look herself in the mirror. He didn’t have a wife he had to look at after fucking you - and he could care less about looking his brother in the face.

“You’re doing this for your husband.” Jin says to you, your hand wrapped firmly around his erect cock. His plump lips offer you a smile - that looks more like a smudged smirk - but all he wants to do is make you more comfortable. 

Your lips wrap around Jin’s tip, tongue swirling as if it was a lollipop. There’s pre-cum on it, your tastebuds swallowing the salty substance. 

‘You’re doing this for your husband’ Jin’s words ring through your ears as you do, your hands pumping the shaft of his cock. You couldn’t be so sure you were doing this for him anymore - as selfish as it sounds.

 Losing everything in a blink of an eye has you constantly fearing going through it once more and the selfish side of you was enjoying the attention you weren’t getting from your husband, but from his brother. You were enjoying the expensive gifts that he’d give and the random money he would wire into your account - even if it did eat away at you to accept them.

You continued to suck harder, taking Jin deeper into your mouth. He winces, his hands clenching slightly. Licking his lips, Jin tilts his head at you. “There’s my Y/N.” he moans, hooded eyes watching how purely whorish you appeared taking him fully. “There’s my girl coming out.”

His Y/N - Jin told you time and time again that a part of you - the side that accepted the affair - would come out. This was the side that would moan freely, would hug him closer and the side that would beg for more. This was his Y/N - the Y/N that was determined to make him cum by any means necessary; that would fuck him like her life depended on it (and of course it did).

Your eyes glance up at him and for a moment Jin is stuck. His cheeks flush at you - and it wasn’t something he needed you noticing; he had to have the ultimate control at all times.

The solution? Forcing your head down, taking him even deeper. Your nose hits the cleanly groom patch of hair on his pelvis, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag - but it only edges on Jin further. 

“Don’t do it for your husband, Y/N. Do it for yourself.” Jin says, his head firmly on the back of your head to keep you in place. “Maybe that would make you act a little better.”

Your tongue lays flat as you suck, your head managing to lean back so only the tip is in your mouth, and quickly before Jin could react, you take him back into your throat, sucking with all your might.

Jin hisses, his toes curling inside his dress shoes. The noises that echo off of his room are filthy - his moans mixed with your slurping and gagging.

“How selfish my Y/N truly is. You like having a cock in your throat as long as the cock is providing for you, huh?” Jin squeezes his hand into your hair to keep you firmly in place, panting at just how good you were taking him. “I guess I’ll have to spoil you after this, huh? Not like your husband could.”

Your eyes begin to water, but you refuse to stop your sucking. Jin’s hips are moving a bit, and he’s cursing low to himself. He wants to tear his eyes away from you - but he’s mesmerized. There’s drool running down your chin and your eyes are watery and to him you look absolutely beautiful -  how could he not want to wire you thousands of dollars after this?

You pop off of Jin’s cock with a loud ‘pop’ing sound, saliva connecting your lips to his cock. Your hands immediately wrap around his length to jerk him vigorously, your tongue twirling on the tip for him to cum.

“Oh, fuck.” Jin groans, right as your eyes and his connect. You were jerking his cock with need - as if you were the one that was cumming. He begins to whimper, his thighs trembling. The familiar bubbling in his abdomen is returning - like it did time and time again when he was with you. “So good for me, baby.”

Jin’s praises shouldn’t be getting to you, but they do. They always do. He could be demanding while you and he were intimate, as well as degrading. However, there were times in which he did speak to you nicely; complimenting you at how good you were to and for him. He’d often call you beautiful and assured that you would always be taken care of regardless of the situation you were in - in the end of it all, you took it as nothing but pillow talk. 

However, you were now in the moment just as Seokjin was and you were determined to make the man cum. You bring the tip of his cock back into your mouth and you continue to suck, your palm jerking him to cum. Doing this, Jin begins to pant, his speech cut off. His head hangs back and his eyes are rolling with pleasure - such a beautiful sight, you think. Even when convulsing in pleasure did Kim Seokjin look beautiful.

Jin groans -  a groan that comes from deep in his throat. He wants to praise you and tell you just how good you’re doing; but maybe that was the side of him that likes you. That, of course, he can’t. He’s unable to form any words and all he can focus on is the pleasure that runs through his body entirely. It was as if his brain was shutting down and fuck did it feel amazing.

Jin’s thighs are quivering and he’s cumming, his breathing coming out in hushed stutters. He cums so much, thick white robes painting the inside of your mouth. It’s so much that it surprises you that it begins to seep out of your mouth, but you assure yourself to swallow as much as you could.

You release Jin’s cock and heave, the air hitting your throat refreshing. You’re sure you looked a mess; tear stained cheeks, blurry and red eyes and drool (and cum) mixed on your lips. But you don’t dwell on the fact - it wasn’t anything Seokjin wasn’t accustomed to seeing already.

It takes a few moments for Jin to compose himself. His eyes are closed and his thighs gently tremble until they stop completely. His mind is flooding with just what he has gotten himself into with you - an act he does each time you manage to make him cum.

“Sir?”

Jin snaps his eyes open and looks at you. You’re on your knees - where you belonged - and looked at him with a tilted head.

Jin leans forward, licking his plump lips. “You’re so obedient.” he murmurs to you, the Jin you knew coming back like a full circle. “The collar suits you.”

You yelp when Jin snatches said collar and yanks it harshly. His lips meet yours in a rushed kiss - an action he’s never done. You and Seokjin don’t kiss; it’s an act far too intimate for two people having an affair. He never initiated it before, and neither have you. Yet, kissing Jin felt right and there's electricity running through your veins. His lips are warm and soft to the touch and though you never initiated a kiss with the man before, you don’t find yourself pushing away from it.

Jin is amused (and satisfied) when you softly protest when he pushes you away from him. “You look like a kick puppy, Y/N. When was the last time you kissed your husband?”

Jin snickers when you glance away - you did because even you didn’t know. Jin kept his hours long (intentionally, now you know) and there was never any time for you and him to ever be alone. And even though you loved your husband for wanting to be better and get out of the financial bind he put the two of you in, there's a sinister side to you that still despises him for putting you in that situation to begin with.

“Come.”

Jin yanks at your collar and has you standing to your feet along with him. He pushes you towards his bed and you fall back with a low yelp. 

“Open your legs.” Jin demands and instantly, you comply. “Good girl.” he murmurs.

Between your legs was Jin’s favorite place to be - being inside you or his tongue buried in your pussy. Your pussy is always wet for him; warm and inviting. You gave it up to him so willingly and each time he took it with gratitude. 

Jin couldn’t get enough of you - and it had to be a deeper reason. You weren’t his woman to have, but he took you selfishly. He buries his tongue deep against your clit, not taking another second away. He laps against your pussy eagerly, eyes glancing up to see your shocked (yet satisfied) face - brows knitted and mouth agape as a moan draws out.

Jin’s hands place themselves on your outer thigh, allowing you to slightly cage him in between them - because that could never stop him from having his taste of you. He has no choice but to bury his face deeper into your pussy, suckling even harder against your swollen clit.

“F-Feels so good, sir.” you wail and Jin knows this. His eyes never leave your face as his tongue continues to lap. “G-Gonna cum already.”

Jin snickers - you were always so quick to cum when he had you like this. Like the perfect little whore you were, he thinks. He knows his brother could never please you the same way he does - you always walked around so uptight and shy. Your legs clenched together for whatever friction because his brother was far too busy to pleasure you.

 Now, you had that glow to you. Jin assured that you’d cum each and every time you and him were together - just like now.

Jin slams your legs open, pinning them against your shoulder. The position is as lewd as his actions, but that doesn’t stop him. He devours your pussy entirely, tongue ravishing your clit so loudly that his suckling is dancing off of the walls.

“S-Sir, slow down-”

Jin didn’t want to hear anything you were about to say. You didn’t tell him what to do - he was Kim Seokjin. If he wanted to lick your clit until you were squirting against him he would - because he was Kim Seokjin. 

Jin’s hands hold your thighs apart even tighter to assure you have no way to escape him, his tongue sliding against your clit entirely and entering in and out of you. Your eyes snap shut, squeezing so tightly. You were being swallowed up by the black hole of pleasure. There’s whimpering coming from you as well as the familiar moisture at the corner of your eyes. 

Jin shoves you away hastily. “I’m going to fuck a baby into you, Y/N.” Jin says suddenly - an act that is just as shocking as him kissing you.

You don’t get time to protest before Jin is flipping you onto your stomach and forcing your ass into the air. He’s behind you, positioning himself at your entrance.

Jin enters you without hesitation, needing no time to prep you because of how wet you are. He starts off rough, cock so deep that it brings back the familiar black hole of pleasure. 

Jin is brutal as he fucks you - but he was a man on a mission. He’s clouded by his own lust and selfish desire that he doesn’t hold back any of his own thoughts. 

“You’d want that, wouldn’t you?” Jin asks harshly, pulling both of your hands behind your back to hoist you up. “For me to fuck a baby into you?”

“Y-Yes, sir!” you wail, far too gone in pleasure that you don’t completely take in what Jin is saying. 

“You’re so drunk off of dick that you’ll say anything. There’s my Y/N.” Jin cracks his hips deeper and deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. Your juices are leaking down your thigh and staining his bedsheets, but he would never care. “I’m going to get you pregnant and watch my pathetic brother raise the child as his.” he laughs gleefully, his plan completely insane. 

You’re pushed away from Jin and you fall completely against the mattress. Jin hikes a leg up so he can go deeper into you.

“But don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll make sure our child has the best of the best.” Jin groans, eyes focused on the way your ass bounces against him. “And when they’re of age, I’ll tell them the truth. That the pathetic father they thought they had was not really their father.” Jin leans down, both hands firmly against the mattress for support. “And they’ll inherit millions from me. It’s better than having nothing like my pathetic brother.”

“Feels so good!” you moan into the mattress and all Jin could do is laugh - because you were far too gone to notice anything he was saying; and just how real his plans for you are.

“Yeah?” Jin manages to flip you again and now on your back, he allows you to wrap your legs around him. “So good for me, Y/N. Such an obedient little whore.”

Jin connects his lips to yours again and instantly, you wrap your arms around him. You were determined not to let him go this time - and he allowed it. Kissing you felt right; even when it was wrong. Not only because you weren’t his woman (because he was well aware of such and didn’t give a fuck) but because it was a sign of affection.

“Want you to fuck me all night.” you plead against his lips, holding him so close that you coild feel his own heartbeat. 

So dick drink, Jin thinks, but he doesn’t respond. He’s unable to, far too focused on giving you exactly what you want. 

Jin ponders how his brother wasn’t fighting him to have more time off of work. Your pussy is amazing - carved from the Gods. You’re gripping him so tight with a pussy that’s so wet that if he was in his brothers position, he wouldn’t be at work now - no, he’d be fucking you into the mattress.

But Jin wasn’t your husband and he was doing exactly what he should be doing to you.

“Squeezing me so tight, Y/N. Gonna cum already?” Jin taunts, but even he was ready to cum inside of you.

 The thought of getting you pregnant is stuck deep in Jin’s mind; watching you grow heavy and round with his seed. He would have a deep bond with the child, assuring that he would be loved far more than his brother would be with the child. He would be impressed with how large your breast would be as you grew with his child and how beautiful you’d look pregnant.

“Shit,” Jin’s forehead presses against yours. He plunges his cock inside of you with need now - the need to impregnate immediately - and to do this as many times as it takes for you to conceive.

Warmth floods deep inside of you just as you’re reaching your high. You squeeze Jin, hugging him closer to your exhausted and convulsing body and never wanting to let the man go.

You and Jin fucked for hours in various positions you’ve never been in. You had awoken suddenly, body exhausted in a bedroom that didn’t belong to you. Jin wasn’t there, you noticed, and that was your cue to take your leave.

Doing the walk of shame back to your bedroom was something you’d have to look yourself in the mirror about later. Your body was aching and all you truly wanted to do was have a soothing bath and then go right back to sleep.

You opened the door to your bedroom and stopped in your tracks. Your eyes scanned the room entirely.

Balloons littered the ceiling entirely - all red, white and pink. Your bed - king-sized that sat in the middle of the room, sat rose petals shaped neatly into a large heart. In the middle of it sat a small envelope, but that was the least of your concerns. 

Flower bouquets are surrounding your bed - all roses of different colors - and there’s dozens of gift bags waiting to be opened.

You enter your bedroom and close your door behind you. You ponder did your husband do all of this for you - and if he did, just how did he manage to do so without wondering where you were at the entire time?

Your heart sinks at the thought of your husband doing this for you and you were cheating on him with his brother.

You grasp the small envelope on your bed and open it. It’s a card - something simple written inside of it but it causes your heart to swell with realization.

My Y/N.

Happy Valentine’s Day

-Seokjin

part 2 | teaser to part 2

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU- pt 3

Warnings; yandere themes/behavior/actions, mix of platonic and romantic yanderes, monster AU, reader is the only human, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, Monster AU Grim has only just arrived and my heart already hurts for him, poor decision making, Selkie, Crow Fae, Minotaur, Drider, slight gore, an actual Monster of this AU make a guest appearance,

~~~~~~~~

"(Y/n) (L/n)... The last Human in Twisted Wonderland."

Those words echoed in your mind as you followed the Crow. Supposedly there was a dorm on the campus that didn't have anyone in it and he intended that to be your home. You didn't trust any of these creatures because they all seemed to think you were some kind of exotic pet and not actually an equal. There was no way you would stay with any of these creatures and you found yourself looking for a chance to escape.

What you hadn't expected was how hard the Dragon man took your refusal to stay in his nest permanently. When he was guarding you, he had been full of energy and crackling with some kind of unknown power. When you said you wanted to be left alone and wanted to go home, the man practically looked like a kicked puppy who couldn't understand why his new play-mate didn't want to stay with him. In some ways, you felt guilty for saying no to the Dragon, but you also were afraid of how you would be treated by the man who had already claimed you as his own.

The Crow actually decided your request to go home was a reasonable one and brought you before the mirror that had been so prominent in the center of the coffin room. Despite your pleading and the Crow's requests, the mirror said there was nowhere in their world you could have come from so there was nowhere in their world you could return to. You tried arguing that your home was real and you needed to go back to it, but the mirror refused to speak to you again and simply stopped responding to you.

This lead to where you were now, feeling like a prisoner marching down death-row flanked by the two men who came with the Crow to retrieve you from the Dragon. Everyone you passed stopped and stared as you went by, their curiosity clear as they all tried to get a good look at you. Some even tried to reach out to you, but the two men flanking you shut it down quickly and chased the curious onlookers off. Despite how the Crow said he was taking you somewhere safe, you didn't trust him in the slightest.

When your opportunity to flee presented itself, you took it with both hands.

There was a forest that seemed to line the far side of the campus with many dark trees and shadowed trunks. Surely you could hide in there and find your own way home despite the fearful feeling in your gut that insisted you were stuck in the unusual world of fantasy you now found yourself in. As you drew nearer to what looked like an abandoned and ramshackled manor, you slowed your pace just enough to make a bit of distance from you and your guards before you darted into the forest.

Even as the branches whipped and slashed at you, you kept running blindly into the woods. Surely you could get some distance from the monsters that tried to keep you like a pet, and maybe then you could work on finding a way home. To your real home, wherever that was in comparison to where you were now.

~•§•~

"Damn it, Crowley!"

The black and white Selkie snapped, immediately trying to follow the frightened little Human into the forest. He knew what kind of creatures stalked those woods and a soft little Human like you was not going to survive long. The moment the branches began pulling at his fur he had to retreat back from the woods. His own self preservation was far too strong to allow his pelt to be damaged or removed from his shoulders, even to save a protected species like the little Human.

"What did I do? I have been nothing but kind and that Human keeps running away!"

"They're running because they are terrified, confused, and not even from our world! You should have just let us use the dark mirror to get to the dorm, not making us walk! Not to mention how unsafe and rundown the dorm you want them to stay in is..."

The Selkie gave another annoyed noise as he watched his Minotaur companion barely even make it past the first tree before his horns caught on the foliage around him. They couldn't enter the forest after you because they would get just as lost as you currently were. The forest was not a warm and safe place to be for anyone given the rampant number of Direbeasts and other creatures in the untamed areas of the isle.

"We can't follow them like this- damn it! Rook, front and center, pup!"

There was a slight skittering sound before the lovely blond Drider easily cleared the wrought iron fencing nearby and came to a halt before the Selkie professor. Naturally, the Drider was curious about the Human and followed the entourage with a keen eye and even keener instincts. He knew the Human would run before the professors did, and despite how he wanted to give chase he remembered the horrified look the Human had given him when they saw him for the first time. Rook wanted to befriend and study the unusual prey that was his new little Human muse, not terrify them into fleeing from him.

"Yes, Roi du Selkie?"

"I know you were watching where the Human (Y/n) ran and you are better at navigating the forest than we are. Find them and bring them back unharmed."

"You wound me, Roi du Selkie! I would never harm the little Trickster Human! Now, I certainly wouldn't mind hunting them down for a bit of sport, but I wouldn't harm a hair upon their fragile little head."

"Yes, yes, I know your proclivity to The Hunt, but this is a fragile creature that we can't risk losing, especially when they are the last of their kind. Make sure you get to them before the beats of the forest do."

"As you command, Roi du Selkie."

~•§•~

No matter how far you ran, the forest only seemed to get darker. It had already been late in the evening when you fled, but the forest was a near abyssal dark. Not even the light of the moon could reach beneath the canopy of leaves. Every little sound made you jump and you could only imagine the creatures that lurked in these shadowed woods.

Perhaps fleeing into the woods away from a warm bed and meal was not the best idea you've had. Granted, the last time you fled resulted rather positively given the fact you fell asleep under a stone statue and woke up safe in a comfortable bed. The same bed you chose to give up because you didn't want to be someone's pet. Well, hindsight was always 20/20, after all.

You were so preoccupied with the forest around you that the second a gnarled root caught you foot, you went tumbling to the ground with an undignified yelp. The root you had fallen over was pitch black and seemed to actually be the opening of what looked like a den for whatever creatures called this land home. When you breathed a sigh of relief at not seeing any feral creature within the den, a sharp voice snapped you back to attention.

"Hey! Watch it!"

Crawling on their belly out of the den, you caught sight of shaggy gray fur and burning blue eyes. You got a good look at the little creature when it stood up, dusting the dirt off of itself and pouting in your direction. The little beast was fairly stout and almost fooled you into thinking it was some kind of cat before you noticed the extra limbs adorning the rounder body.

"What... Are you?"

"I'm the greatest mage to ever live, Grim! That's what I am! What are you? You don't look like the usual fancy-pants students that wander around the woods."

"I'm not... I'm just lost-"

You cut yourself off with a gasp as the little creature hopped up on your knees, staring at you closely with those bright blue eyes. They gave you a quick once-over and even a few sniffs for good measure before they nodded.

"Yup. I see. I can say with absolute certainty that I don't know what you are!"

The odd words of the critter drew a short laugh from you. Your laugh was a mix of confusion and incredulousness, but in it held the hint of genuine humor. It seemed those in the supposed school knew exactly what you were, but this little creature didn't have the faintest idea. Something about this 'Grim' helped put you at ease as they seemed much more rounded- quite literally given their chubby belly- and less aggressive than the others had been.

Where the others had made you feel like an exotic pet, this little creature made you feel like someone who could stand up for themselves and talk for themselves. As you took a good look at the creature, you noticed what seemed to be small blue flames along their ears and various scars riddling the soft fur. Though the creature was small, they had clearly been through a rough life as even the little wings on their back had been shredded to complete uselessness.

"I'm a Human."

"Yeah, I have no idea what that is, but it smells like you don't have even a bit of magic on ya! Don't worry, Hooman thing. I- the Great and Powerful Grim- will protect you as you make your way through the forest! There's all sorts of bad things in the woods that would hurt someone soft like you. In return, you can be my henchman! Every good mage needs a henchman. Nyehehe!"

Before you could respond to the odd creature Grim, the rustling of the bushes near you filled you with dread. You had no way to defend yourself or fight back against whatever threat came for you, let alone protect Grim. That dread only compounded when you saw the creature that emerged from the foliage.

Standing on all fours, it almost looked like some kind of bear that was missing half of it's face. Where fur and flesh should have been, a large gaping wound covered in flies and rotting from the bone of the skull was on clear display. The eyes of the beast were no more than glowing light blue pits that glowered hatefully in your direction. Even the black fur of the beast seemed to be dripping with some kind of rot as the foul stench of the creature assaulted your nostrils.

Nothing about this beast was natural and the twisted fangs that glinted in the maw of the beast only made icy fear grip you. Each fang had been broken by the neighboring tooth, all overgrown and twisted in the maw of the creature. Some teeth grew up and back into the gums, some teeth grew out jaggedly though the mouth of the creature, and some were empty sockets where a tooth once was.

The beast lowed and huffed, sounding like it was struggling for air as it breathed out a toe-curling reek in heavy pants. One paw fell after the other as you felt rooted to the ground, trapped in terror upon gazing such a disheveled and vile creature walking around. Beyond just the face of the creature, you could see exposed bone and further signs of decay clinging to the sides of the beast. Open wounds were covered in pustules filled with some kind of inky black blight on ragged and bloodless flesh.

"Th-that's way bigger than I thought it'd be..."

Grim's voice squeaked out and his torn ears dropped in obvious fear. The bravado he had moments prior was gone the exact same way your own had faded away. This was not some natural creature and you realized just how woefully prepared you were to face the creatures of the night.

The beast turned the one remaining eye it had towards the two of you and Grim tried to hide behind your legs, huddled down on your stomach. You were in more than just a dangerous position seeing as you were sitting on the dark earth beneath you after tripping over Grim's hiding-spot. Both you and your new companion were caught completely unawares by this wretched beast.

As it looked like the thing was about to lunge, a sudden rush of fire slammed into the beast, piercing into the side was an arrow that burned brightly with flames. The sudden attack was enough to disorient the beast as it howled a screeching wail of pain and lumbered back into the woods, deciding to find easier prey elsewhere. You wanted to cry in joy at seeing the creature retreat, finding yourself hugging the odd cat-thing Grim who joyously returned the affection as you both got to live another day.

"I see you are unharmed, my little Trickster, c'est magnifique!"

You looked over at the sound of the voice, only to realize that the voice came from above you instead. Hanging suspended on a thin strand of silk was the lovely giant Spider man. Two of his legs held the silk and the others hung down as if reaching down to you.

"Myeh! A giant Spider! Run for your life, Hooman!"

Grim screamed as he hopped off of your stomach, trying to flee from the descending Spider that had save you both from the monster bear. He didn't get far before a sudden strand of silk wrapped around him, pulling him back with ease.

"Non, there has been enough fleeing for one night. As beautiful as the forest is when it is dark like this, many dangers far worse than the Undying Ursus Minor live in these woods. It is time to return mon Trickster to the safety of their new home."

"Myeh? A safe home..? Hey, Spider guy, that's my henchhooman! Where they go, I go too! They wouldn't leave me out here," Grim turned to look at you with surprisingly soulful eyes, as if willing you to agree, "right?"

You felt more than a little put on the spot, but you didn't see any harm in bringing this strange creature with you. They were more than a little proud but seemed so out of place among the dark forest you two found ourselves at the mercy of. That and the fact that you couldn't get the image of the many scars on their soft little body out of your mind. The world was unkind to Grim and maybe you could do something to change that for the better.

"Right."

The blond Spider nodded with a patient smile, his body safely touching down on the ground next to you.

"Trés bien, I will bring your new friend with us. First, I worry I haven't been very polite with you, Trickster. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rook Hunt, hunting enthusiast and passionate admirer of all things beautiful. Honored to be in the presence of one so rare~"

After his short introduction, Rook was quick to free Grim from the webbing and picked the little creature up, setting the fluffy beast onto his Spider half's back. As the Spider man approached you next, you still felt wary of him but knew that at least he wasn't looking to harm you like the beasts of the forest.

Before you could accept the help of the smiling Spider, he suddenly picked you up, pausing with a look of surprise. His hands were beneath your arms and held you from the ground with what seemed to be little effort, but he was a Spider and so likely had more strength than a Human would.

"Oh? It seems my little Trickster is a 'Mademoiselle' Trickster. Odd I didn't notice before. I am usually quite good at discerning the sex of my prey, as some species are only free to hunt if they are one sex and not the other, but this is still a welcome surprise. Roi du Règles will be most pleased to know this, him being a Unicorn and all."

"Wh-what the hell are you talking about? Were you hunting me?"

"Calm yourself, Trickster. I admit, you interest me in many ways, but non, I tracked you down at the behest of Roi du Selkie. The forests are no place for a soft Human such as yourself. I certainly would not mind a game of chase with you, but this is neither the place nor time."

He set you next to Grim on his back, grinning over his shoulder at you.

"Hold on, Mademoiselle Trickster, I do not intend to have you fall on our way back to campus."

You were quick to grab Grim, holding the soft critter with one arm and the other wrapping around Rook's warm torso. Once he was sure you were holding onto him securely, his many long legs began to move with a surprising speed, carrying you towards what you assumed to be the school you fled. Grim was content to snuggle into your body for warmth, seeming to actually relax in your hold now that he didn't have to constantly be looking over his shoulder for danger.

You weren't thrilled to be going back, but you also now knew what kind of dangers lurked around the campus and in the woods. Perhaps you would be better off in the protection- for whatever it was worth- of the monster men and their school. Even if it was temporary, it beat being the lunch to something bigger and meaner in the forest. At least you knew you weren't going to try running again.

[mrsbarnesblog]

Hi girl ❤️ inhope it's ok to send in a request. i thought of something where the reader is working at the Avengers Compound and trains new agents, but one of them grows fond of her and like creeps up on her or follows her around all the time. Soon Bucky noticed that and decides to help. As the guy then again waits up on you and gets too close for Bucky's liking, he steps in between and kisses you passionately, making the creep leave and takes you by surprise. But what started as only some help, continues in Bucky's bedroom, revealing hidden feelings and passion 😏 i hope this is ok with you ❤️

we could've done it earlier

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: +18❗️creepy men, protective Bucky, smut, friends to lovers, idiots in love, dirty talk, unprotected sex

Author's note: well, that was fun to write. I hope you'll like it and that I saw the vision right. thank you for the request💘

You rolled your eyes again when you noticed that Kevin’s eyes stayed on your body for way too long. You had just finished another session of training with the new recruits from S.H.I.E.L.D. and everything was fine—most of them were really talented and eager to learn, but that one guy had acted super weird since the day Fury introduced you. 

He always gave you weird looks, tried to flirt with you during the training and you swore that he was following you around the tower because you “accidentally” bumped into him and ended up in the same room more times than you could count. 

You decided to forget about it for today and took a quick shower in the gym, and after changing your sweaty clothes, you went to the kitchen on Avenger’s floor to grab a snack. 

You didn’t even have time to look through the cupboards when you saw a figure in the corner of your eye walking towards you. 

“Mind some company?” Kevin stepped closer to you with that creepy smile on his face and scanned your body up and down once again.

“What are you doing here? It’s Avenger’s quarters; you shouldn’t be here.” You crossed your arms over your chest to hide from his stare. 

“Well, I thought they could make an exception for me, especially since my favorite trainer lives here.” He stepped closer and you instantly stepped back. Yes, you were one of the Avengers, but it didn’t change the fact that he was a man who clearly had bad intentions towards you, so your body and mind worked differently around him. “And I also thought we could do something together, if you know what I’m talking about.” 

“I don’t know what you are talking about, and I’m not interested in whatever you are suggesting. Please don’t overstep the line. I’m your trainer and nothing more.” You tried to talk firmly and confidently, even though your whole body was tensed from Kevin’s almost predatory stare. “I-I have a boyfriend. Don’t try to do anything.”

“You’re lying. I know that you want me. And I want you–” Kevin wanted to get closer to you, but a certain Super Soldier appeared out of nowhere, stood between you and him, and kissed you. 

Bucky was watching this whole scene from the beginning. He also saw how that guy was following you around and just staring at you shamelessly. 

Bucky had a crush on you since the day you met, but he didn’t try to change things between you, being too scared that you wouldn't ever talk to him again. At first, he thought that there were mutual feelings between you and Kevin because you were so sweet to everyone, but the more he paid attention, the more he noticed how uncomfortable you would get every time you spotted Kevin in the same room. 

So when Bucky saw him following you once again, and this time being even more persistent, he knew that he should save you. 

So he just stepped in and kissed you.

Was it stupid? Probably. Did he regret doing it? Not in the slightest way. 

Your whole body froze, and your mind was overloaded with the unknown feeling of Bucky’s lips and his hands on your face while he was slowly kissing you. He kissed you as if he had all the time in the world, and as if Kevin, who was clearly confused and angry, was not standing right behind him.

Bucky slightly pulled away, not letting go of your face, and looked back at Kevin. “Do you have a problem with my girlfriend?” His stare could scare anyone, and the way all the color washed away from Kevin’s made him feel weirdly satisfied.

He looked back at you, not missing how your pupils were dilated and your mouth was slightly open in shock, before he captured your lips in another kiss. Now it was not so sweet, though. Bucky was clearly dominating over you, biting your lip and then licking it with his tongue. 

You both didn’t notice how Kevin left. Too lost in each other’s touches, scents, and lips. It was addicting.

“I’m sorry for doing it without permission. Just wanted to scare him away from you.” Bucky mumbled against your lips, yet he didn’t move, not even an inch away from your body. Your eyes lowered to his lips, already craving to feel them again. And Bucky understood it straightaway. “Tell me to stop.” He knew that he was fucked up. Before, he was just observing you and trying to suppress his feelings, but now that he had finally touched and kissed you, he couldn’t hide it anymore. 

Your head was feeling fuzzy, while your hands were clenching onto Bucky’s shirt. You could barely understand what he was saying to you, but that familiar heat in your stomach appeared again, as it did every time he called you “doll” or smiled.

“Please don’t…” You whine, pulling him even closer. “I want you. I need you, Buck.” You kissed him this time, raising one hand to bury it in his fluffy and soft hair. Bucky moaned in your mouth when you slightly dragged your nails along his scalp. 

He gripped your waist with both of his hands and then let the metal one slide down to the back side of your thigh. Bucky mumbled a raspy “jump”, and you, without hesitation, followed his command, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

You both moaned when your clothed core met the hardness in his jeans. As if it were an instinct, you moved your hips, trying to do something to relieve that aching feeling in your body.

“Stop moving, or I’ll fuck you right in this kitchen, doll.” 

It was shameful how quickly you would’ve agreed to do that. 

After firmly settling you in place, Bucky went to his room without a struggle, carrying your weight and kissing the heated skin of your neck. As soon as the door was closed and you were gently placed on a perfectly made bed, you both became even more greedy for each other. 

Tugging clothes, pulling hair, and biting each other’s lips and skin. Bucky's firm body was pressing against yours, and you nearly drowned in the mattress. Bucky's cock became even harder when he finally got a good look at your face—half-closed eyes, smollen red lips, completely messed-up hair. You looked fucking majestic.

“You are so fucking beautiful, Y/N. Fuck, I wanted to do it for so long.” He said it harshly, trying to catch a breath. 

“Me too. Me too, Bucky… Oh God, it almost hurts.” You tried to move your lower body upwards to grind yourself on something, but Bucky just smirked at you and pinned you back to the bed. 

“Be patient and let me have my time with you, doll.”

“Not now, please. James. I need it. Just fuck me. We can do whatever you want later. ” You almost cried, your hands sliding under Bucky’s shirt and sending shudders down his back. Who was he to decline your request when you asked so nicely?

When he just slightly nodded to your words, you lifted up your arms, allowing Bucky to take off your oversized t-shirt. He almost choked on his saliva when he discovered that you were naked underneath it. 

“I love the twenty-first century.” Your laugh quickly turned into a moan when Bucky took one of your nipples into his mouth and pinched the other one with his fingers. The way he tried to be so gentle with his metal arm didn’t go unnoticed by you. He was always so careful not to hurt you in any possible way, but this felt much more intimate, deeper. 

After finally being satisfied with his work on your tits, Bucky trailed a way of kisses down to your leggings, slightly pushed the waistband down and teased you with his wet tongue, almost in the place where you wanted him the most. 

“Just take it off.” 

Bucky stood on his knees in between your legs and pulled down your pants and underwear, throwing them on the floor. “Dear fucking God. I’ll have my sweet time with her later.” He licked his lips, eyes glued to your wet folds. You just wined at his words, slightly pressing your legs together to exert some kind of pressure on your swollen clit. 

Bucky hesitated to take off his shirt. Being too lost in you, he almost forgot about his metal arm. But you were on his bed, naked, impatient, and only with lust written in your eyes. He knew you wouldn't judge him. 

Actually, you had never seen Bucky without clothes; only once did you catch him after the gym in the tightest possible t-shirt that revealed every little muscle on his chest and press. But holy shit, seeing him naked was shocking in the best possible way. His perfectly sculpted body, tanned skin, and slightly dingling silver dog tags made your mouth water with the need to kiss every centimeter of him. When your eyes shifted a little bit higher and caught the tormented skin on his shoulder, you felt nothing but sadness and pride for Bucky being so strong.

“You’re pretty.” The pink color spread to Bucky’s ears at your words. “And I want you all. Buck, you better hurry up and undress or I will have to handle this on my own." You slowly lowered your hand in between your legs to tease him and ease the tension in Bucky’s body, and you saw it working by the way his eyes were laser-focused on your actions.

“You’re playing with fire, doll.” He lowered his body on yours again, pushing away your hand, but instead pinned it above your head and kissed you. His free hand finally unbuckled his pants, and he did not bother taking them completely off—he just pushed them down slightly because he did not want to lose the sensation of being so close to you. “Oh fuuuck—” Bucky moaned as his cock touched your lower stomach and you could help but drag your eyes there. 

"There's no way you’re walking around with this…” You whispered in disbelief. 

“Mhm, you’ll get used to it.” He gave you a cocky smile. “Um, do you want me to find a condom? Fuck, I don’t have it.” The worry appeared in Bucky’s face and he looked around the room, as if the box could just magically appear somewhere. 

“No-no, Bucky, just fuck me. Please. I’m on birth control. I need you in me right now.” You were too desperate, wrapping your legs around his body and pushing him closer. The tip of his hard cock slipped across your pussy and you both hissed at the feeling. 

Bucky nodded more to himself and finally reached in between your bodies, gave himself a few pumps and started pushing inside of you. The stretch was almost painful, but at the same time, it was the best thing you had ever felt. 

He couldn’t hold it inside anymore. As soon as you took every inch of him, Bucky started moving in a steady rhythm. He lost himself in the way he fit so perfectly into you. He was fucking you without mercy. You gripped his shoulder with your free hand, while the non-stop moans escaped your mouth with every movement. Your body was jumping up and down on the bed; your eyes rolled back in pleasure and not a single thought flashed through your head. 

“So good for me. You’re taking me so well, doll. Just like that.” He was practically splitting you apart with his cock, but it seemed like you became even wetter with every second. If you weren’t too lost in pleasure, you would be ashamed of the way you made a total mess on his cock and thighs. 

Bucky, on the other hand, did not seem to mind; he kept pounding into you, sensing how you clenched tighter around him as you got closer to the orgasm. He freed your hand and grabbed your face so you would stay focused on his face. 

“Tell me how good you feel, baby. Your sweet juice is practically soaking my bed.” He said it without losing the speed of his thrusts or breaking eye contact. 

“So good– Bucky! Oh my fucking God.” You moaned through greated teeth, barely being able to keep your eyes open. 

“Are you going to cum, sweet girl? Gonna milk my cock?” His face got closer to yours, so your lips barely touched when his was talking. You wanted to cry, moan, scream, or do everything all at once when the pure bliss washed over you. “Ye-e-es, that’s it, baby. Take it all, fuck!” 

Bucky pushed his cock into your spasming pussy a few more times before he groanted somewhere near your ear and you felt the hot liquid covering your insides. You both were heavily breathing, clinging closer to each other. You felt too hot and sweaty; the feeling of Bucky’s heavy body covering your smaller form was so calming and safe. Bucky hummed into your neck when you wrapped your hands around his shoulders and lowered his flesh one to sofly trace the delicate skin of your thigh. 

“I can’t believe that we wasted so much time. We could’ve done it earlier.” Bucky rolled to his side, dragging you with him. He pushed your hair out of your face, and his hand stayed on your cheek for a few seconds while he was admiring you. 

“We’re idiots.” You giggled and bit your lip, looking at Bucky.

“We totally are. But I won’t let you go again.”

You were just staring at each other, smiling. It felt so natural to be in his arms, surrounded by his scent and warmth, as if it were supposed to have happened a long time ago. Bucky couldn’t help but move forward to capture your lips in another sweet kiss. 

Everything finally fell into place. 

[ziminy]

Run little butterfly

You were trying to run from home when you met him, disappearing from his side just the way you appeared next to him, in a dramatic way out of nowhere. And now that he found you, he won't let you go ever again.

Tags: smut, mdni, f!Cinderella reader, king!sukuna, true form sukuna, Sukuna's hand mouth (you'll see what I'm talking about), oral (m and f receiving), first time, fingering, creampie, crying, double penetration, two dicks kuna, Sukuna being a little bit too obsessed with you, jealousy, Sukuna haves a harem,

Author's note: this is a last minute fic I came up with to not leave sukuna out this year's list. Don't worry bbg, I'll never forget about you😘

Author's note: a very much different version of Cinderella. I was thinking of sticking to the original but it doesn't really scream me, so I had to change it.

Masterlist kinktober masterlist

You were the only child of a small noble house. You grew up enjoying the little's of life, trying to understand the beauty of it and the people next to you.

Your father was gone most of the time since he was traveling for work. You had your mother next to you, making you feel less sad and looking forward for the next day to come.

But your happiness didn't lasted for long, because your mother fell ill. And not long after that, she unfortunately passed away, leaving you and your father all alone.

It was sad, your favorite person in the world disappearing just in a blink of an eye.

You didn't even had time to mourn her death and your father remarried, bringing home a woman you never saw in your life and two other kids who happened to be the same age as you.

You were ignored most of the time, your father gone and your new mother couldn't give a single fuck about what you were doing.

You wished you could go back in time when no one would look in your direction. Because the moment your father also passed away, your life did a 180.

Everything happened way to fast, losing your family, now even the servants leaving because that woman was refusing to pay them. You were also moved to the attic.

You couldn't catch a single break since that woman and her daughters were mistreating you everyday.

You stayed there for a few years, that until you turned old enough to leave somewhere far away and live independently.

You didn't cared about the house, the memories, the people you once loved anymore. All you wanted was to run as soon as possible.

So, one afternoon, right after everybody called it a day and you were supposed to go to sleep, you tried to make your escape.

Taking a horse, you made your way to the gate, getting ready to run so far away that you won't have to ever think about this place again.

You followed the main path, going and going, not stopping until you were out of town.

For the first time in years, you were happy. The more you were getting away from that hell hole, the more you smiled.

After good minutes of getting further away from that house, you calmed down. Feeling at a safe distance to finally breath and let all the weight from your shoulders drop.

You stopped in front of an inn. Getting off your horse and leave it in front of the illuminated building, petting it for a moment before you got some courage to get inside.

You had a few coins that you managed to save over the past few weeks. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep you alive for a few days until you find some accommodation, a house that you could finally call your own.

You opened the door, immediately being met with a few people that were sitting at the tables. This places was a lot more full on the inside that it looked on the outside. Whatever, it was none of your business what other does when you had your own problems.

"I'd like to rent a room for the night." you said when you got to the counter.

"I have to check what rooms I have available." the older man in front of you said.

"Also, I have a horse outside. Do you have a stable where I can move it to?" you asked, hoping that your loyal friend will get a good night sleep.

"In the back." you wasted no more time and went outside, moving your horse to a comfortable stable where it could rest for a while.

Now, you were walking back to the inn, ready to pay for your room and sleep until tomorrow morning, then take off to another town and only imagining how life would be stress free.

Right outside the inn, there was an extremely tall guy, you could only see his body form because he had his face covered with the hood of his cloak.

You only looked at him for a moment, but right before you were about to enter the tavern, you felt some arms on you, being dragged to the side.

Your heart was about to get out your chest, you thought that was the end of your journey. Here goes your freedom. It haven't even been an hour and you were caught already.

But instead of your evil step mother or her ugly daughters, you were met with that tall man from earlier.

"I must admit, they did a good job this time." he said in a low voice that gave you chills down your spine. You were confused, not understanding his words, but you didn't dared to open your mouth. You just stood there, silent, waiting for an explanation.

You looked at him with big eyes, you could bearly see his face since it was dark outside, and the light from inside the inn wasn't giving you any help to figure out who he was.

He knew nothing about you and he was already salivating. You were nothing like he saw before. Daring to show up before him in peasants clothes, looking tired and full of anxiety. And yet, you looked so sweet that he couldn't help but want to break you already.

He thought he said he doesn't want any kind of unwanted guests during his trip, but he's not complaining about it when you looked so ready to take him.

He couldn't help but laugh, making you even more confused, and now trying to get away.

When you thought that you could get free, you felt another pair or arms around you. Now you got four arms on you, two on your hips and keeping you in place, one hand on your arm and one under your chin, lifting it up to look at him.

All you could see were his red eyes, that looked like they're glowing.

He looked like a beast who just captured his prey and you couldn't help but feel scared, he was way too intimidating.

His eyes scaned your face for a moment, looking at the dumb expression you had, and then it went lower.

Your lips look so tasty. He wanted to kiss you just to see how you'll react, even if he's usually the type to avoid such act.

Usually, his women would come into his room, look all dolled up and pretty before they take care of him and then leave. No questions asked, no feelings involved.

However, you look so dumb. He couldn't help but want to tease you. To touch you and overstimulate you until you're even more stupid that you already are.

He leaned down, getting his face closer to yours, somehow trying to anticipate your next move. Will you moan or will you keep quiet? Now he wanted to hear your broken cries even more.

He stopped right in front of your face, your noses almost touching. All he did was to look at you.

You froze, all the air from your lungs stopping in place. You couldn't process what was going on.

"Don't use that pretty brain on things you don't understand." even he can't understand why he was acting like that. Craving for you even if this is the first time he saw you.

You parted your lips, wanting to say something, but you couldn't say a single word. Your voice was stuck in your throat.

"Forget about everything they told you. That training was irrelevant." training? What was he talking about? "I make the rules, remember that." right, you shouldn't listen to his servants telling you how to please him. He knows himself better than them.

He misunderstood this completely. You weren't one of his new added toys to his collection. You had no idea who he even was to begin with.

But he didn't cared, his face continued moving, ignoring whatever questions you might have as his lips finally touched yours.

His eyes were cold, and so was his touch. His hands were roughly placed on your body, dragging you closer in his arms. His kisses were loveless, no sign of affection as he tried to deeper the kiss.

Taking all the warmth you had to offer, his cold body was slowly becoming warmer. Bathing in your scent, one of his hands went behind your head, holding you in place to be able to kiss you better. One of his hands on yours, trying to wrap it around his body, wanting to feel more of your touch.

He wanted to be in your arms, to feel how is it when you hold him tightly.

Fuck is even wrong with him. He's not usually like this but now his cocks were hard against his pants, wanting to break free and be inside you. Ah, but he's going feral just thinking about your warm wet cunt taking all of him in. And you must take him in, he won't let you rest until you can take him properly.

"Master." someone could be heard from behind a corner, making you jump and almost run from there.

"Tsk." the tall man said annoyed, getting his face away from you, now fixing his posture but still having you in his arms.

"I prepared the thing you asked me to." that person said again, not daring to show their face.

"Alright." the man said annoyed, finally getting his arms away from you. He looked at you for one more time before he left, leaving you all alone to process what just happened.

You couldn't possibly remain there for the night, you had to leave this place, and you had to leave now. That guy was nothing but a big red flag. Everything about him screamed danger, and you weren't stupid enough to fuck around and find out.

So, in a desperate attempt to get away from there, you went back to the stables, getting your horse out and getting on top of it. You left that place in a hurry, not looking back for a moment as you went back to the place you consider to be safe. By safe I meant that he couldn't possibly appear there, there's no way he could.

So, you ran back to that hell house. Leaving the horse back in its place as you quickly ran inside the house.

Never in your life did you think you'll be so happy to see the same old kitchen you spend most of your time into. And never were you so happy to run to the attic and jump into that rusty bed, falling asleep immediately.

But when you finally got home, the mysterious stranger that you met at the inn just finished his task. Getting into his room and calling for someone to get you to him. He couldn't help but want to ravish you right there and then, split you open on his dicks and pump a few loads in you.

"There's no one in this inn that describes that appearance." were they shitting on him now?

"This female that was recently added to the harem." he tried to find other words to explain it. He knew nothing about you besides how you looked and how sweet you taste for him.

"She's currently at the palace. You told us you don't want to see her because of how inexperienced she was." he did that, didn't he. He remembers something now, a girl with long dark hair getting into his bed wearing nothing but a red transparent bathrobe. She was nothing but talk, it made him lose interest immediately.

"Then I want to see all the females in this inn." he got to find you. He knows you're real, it was no way you weren't.

"There are no other guests besides us." then who the fuck were you? Why did you appeared only before him and then disappeared after making him so hungry for you. Were you a piece of his imagination? No wander he wanted to touch you so bad.

Then he haves no option but to look for someone similar to you, his vision, when he gets back to the palace.

And that night, one of you slept better than a a cat napping under the sunlight and the other was wide awake the whole time.

Sure, the next day came and it reminded you of why you tried to run in the first place, but wasn't it better when you knew you won't have to deal with strangers. Especially someone like that brute of a man.

Your chores and the harassment those three women gave you was annoying, but after yesterday, you'll managed to live a few more weeks with it.

When the weather clears, you'll go out again, and this time you'll do a lot more better.

But perhaps, the universe was giving you a much better solution than to sneak out the house.

Because, you see, by the end of that week your house received a invitation to the Royal ball, and it says that the king is finally going to chose a queen.

Your sisters were running around in circles trying to find a good dress. And the mess they made while looking around was giving you headaches.

But you couldn't really complain when you're planning to leave while they're at the ball.

"Can I come to the ball?" you asked with a basket full of clothes in your hands, being tasked to wash and iron them by the end of the day.

"Mother! Do you hear her nonsense?" one of the sisters yelled, making you close your eyes at the loud noise.

"She can't! Mother!" the other sister said, going to her mother and trying to beg her to say no.

"Do you think they need more servants there? It's a happy ceremony, not a job interview." you knew no was the answer, but still. You tried to see if something changed at least in one of them. Hoping to find a reason to stay in this house for a little longer.

The moment they left in their carriage to the ball, it was the moment you ran out the house and ready to get on the horse.

"Now now, no need to be sad." a masculine voice could be heard behind you, making you turn around instantly.

Two men, both of them dressed in black, one with long black hair and the other with white hair and sun glasses.

"We're here to save you." the white haired guy said, making you raise an eye brow. "Aren't you glad?"

"Who are you?" they acted like it was normal for two unknown men to appear in your yard and act all nonchalant.

"Your fairy godmother."

"But you're two, and men." you tried to correct their words.

"We come in a package. And being a fairy godmother sounds better than a fairy godfather." the white haired guy said.

"Gojo and I will help you go to the ball." the dark haired man said.

"I don't want to." you refused, getting your horse out and ready to get on it.

"But you looked so sad earlier." the white haired guy sounded like he was mocking you. "Come on, don't lie to us."

"If you want to do something for me then kick those women out." it was much better than going to a ball you weren't invited to.

"But you look like you already have your future planned out. Why would we interfere?"

"Then why are you here?" you said, getting ready to get on your horse.

"We better get started or you'll arive when the ball is finished." out of nowhere both of them got some kind of wands in their hands, moving it around in the air before both of them started to do their magic.

"If you're going to a ball you'll need a carriage." the dark haired guy said and you saw a pumpkin floating in the air, getting in front of you and slowly becoming bigger, slightly changing its color and shape.

"We need horses too." the other man said and some mices were turned into horses.

"And a coachman." they looked like they were having fun while you were still very much miserable.

"What about the dress?"

"Something blue?" with a hand movement, your clothes were changed into a big ball gown dress. "And look, glass slippers."

"That will be uncomfortable." the dark haired guy said, getting ready to change your shoes into something more comfortable.

"No, no. They're very much comfortable. Try to walk around." the other guy said, making you walk back and forth and give him a review of how your shoes were.

"It's good. My feet doesn't hurt." you said and try to jump around to show that everything was alright.

"Okay then. Get inside." both of them pushed you inside the carriage.

"You have until midnight to come back."

"The spell breaks when the clock shows 12. Remember that."

"Now go, and don't come back until you had all the fun you needed." they both disappeared into thin air. Leaving you alone in a carriage on the way to a ball you didn't want to go to.

You could jump out the carriage and go back home. But if you're being honest, you want to have a last good memory before you leave your good for nothing status and name and live freely.

A ball didn't sounded that bad. There would be music, food, and a lot of people so you won't have to worry about standing out. There's peacocks out there who are trying too hard to make themselves distinguished, so, you're good.

The castle was a lot bigger up close. You could see it every day from your window in the morning. It already looked big, but now? Damn, you're scared you'll stand out because you have no idea how to act like a noble.

You took a deep breath before getting out of the carriage. Grabbing a bit of your dress in your hands, to help you walk up the stairs.

With small steps, you took your time, looking around at the beautiful paintings and the way the whole place looked like it was covered in gold.

There were guards everywhere. It was a bit scary, if you think about it, but you chose to ignore it.

"Excuse me." you went to someone who looked like they worked there. "Do you know where the ballroom is at?" you asked, being lost in that foreign place.

"This way, miss." the man said in a professional voice, showing you the way to the place where you'll spend the next few hours before you disappear for good.

You went inside the room, being welcomed with a lot of people who didn't looked twice in your direction.

The ballroom was filled with music, but no one was dancing. Rather than that, they were talking between themselves.

Rich people, what do you know.

Most of them were dressed in a similar way to you, but there were some who went over the top. And now that you're thinking about it, your step sisters were doing too much. They probably stand out like crazy, and you couldn't help but giggle.

You decided to go and look around. What's a party without food and drinks?

Making your way between people who didn't wanted to move and inch, you found a table with some desserts on it. They look so tasty, and the taste was even more incredible. Can you steal a few for your journey? Or can you pretend to be a worker there and sneak into the kitchen?

Happy with your discovery, you took a plate of some cake and went to sit somewhere where no one will disturb you.

A small couch that was surrounded by little to no people. And you couldn't ask for more.

You sat on it, enjoying the sweet in your hands, the peace and the fact that no one was giving you any attention.

But the thing is, that if you payed some attention you would have saw why no one dared to stay there. It was the closest couch to the king.

It was in the right side of the throne, just a few feet away from it.

How could you be so blind? How could you not notice that brute of a man. Standing so tall that you could see him from a few crowds away, four arms, not two like the rest of the people in that ballroom. Pink hair that looked like candy, and yet it didn't made him look any softer.

Unlike you, he noticed the person who sat on the couch right away.

His eyes widened, mouth slightly opened as he kept looking at you again and again. Blinking, rubbing his eyes and then blinking again.

"You see that person?" the king asked the closest person next to him, to confirm he wasn't seeing things.

"The lady in the blue dress?" that was all he needed to hear to know he was in fact not hallucinating.

He got up, ignoring who ever dared to come his way and walk to you, stopping right in front of you who still haven't acknowledged his existence.

You raised your head when you finally noticed him, mouth full of delicious cake. You had the same big round eyes he remembers. You gulped, swallowing the sweet down your throat. He haven't said a word since he stopped in front of you, still being in his own world, still not believing that you came to him yourself. He didn't had to look for a replacement anymore.

"Can I help you?" your voice was like magic to him. It could make him melt if you said the right words.

He laughed, a big smirk on his face. But that only made you confused.

You looked left and then right, looking for a clue on what's going on. Perhaps he wanted to sit down and this was the only available space. You knew that nobles have some complicated etiquettes they follow, so maybe he's waiting for you to do something?

Ah, you finally get it. You got up, bowing politely to let him know that was your goodbye. But when you wanted to turn around, you suddenly woke up in the air, and a pair of arms wrapped around you.

"Wha-" panicked, you grabbed onto him. But now that you look at the situation, he was the one who got you in his arms, carrying you out of there. "What are you doing?" this couldn't be normal.

"Don't act like you don't remember me now." his words made sense to you, somehow.

He looked familiar, but you couldn't figure out from where. You don't know his name, this was the first time you saw his face, but that voice sounded so familiar. And his body, it also looked like you saw it before.

He walked around the castle like he owned it. Opening door after door, and getting deeper inside it, and far away from the ballroom.

"Who are you?" he was no ordinary person, you could see that. He walked freely without a single person saying a thing.

He made the guards look like decorations, and they didn't dared to say a thing to him. The palace workers bowed before him, and even the nobles were trying to please him.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked when you figured the answer to the first question.

He still didn't said a word and open one last door.

This room was deep inside the palace, you'd get lost if you try to run from there on your own. But perhaps that was what he wanted from the start. To lock you somewhere you won't be able to run from even if you try to escape.

That place had a big bed in the middle of the room, a couch that was facing the fire place, a big bookcase filled from top to bottom and some really big windows. From what you can see out the windows, and the fact you just walked up a lot of stairs, you were really high up. You won't be able to survive without breaking a few bones if you try to jump.

He really thought of everything, huh?

Walking to the bed, he placed you on it. Turning around and walking towards the door. He didn't thought of finding you this soon, so he had no idea what to do.

"Can I.." you bite your lips before speaking, too afraid that you know the answer too well. "Can I still go home?" he paused when he got in front of the door, but didn't said a thing. "The guys that helped me get here told me to get back before midnight." he almost broke the door when he heard those words. The what? The guys? They did what? "This is actually a spell. I don't actually look like this." he turned around and marched to the bed.

There was something scary in his eyes. But you couldn't help but look at him.

Did you tricked him? Was someone plotting against him and send a doppelganger to play with him?

"Who sent you?"

"I have no idea." you looked away. He won't believe you even if you tell him.

"Tell me." his cold eyes could petrify anyone.

"You don't trust me." you shook your head, trying to brush this off.

"I do. Now tell me." he looked like he could kill you right there, and no one would say a thing about it. You won't be missed, you won't be mourned. You don't even have someone to think about even in your last moments of living.

"Can I leave or not?" your voice just as cold as his, and for a moment he could feel his blood boil. You talked to other men, they send you there to the palace to make a clown out of him and now you dared to act like it was his fault for locking you in a place where he knows you won't run from.

"No." you sighed at his response. Disappointed in yourself for even trying, for listening to some strange men and for not running away when you had the perfect chance to.

"At midnight I turn back to my usual self. I'm not like this, I don't dress this way. You won't like me anymore after that." he was looking for a replacement from the start. This ball was held to find a doll that resembled you. And he found it. You can turn into a hideous monster and he'll find a way to turn you back into this form.

"And you think that I care?"

You looked confused. You had no idea what was going on in his head. What made him act like this and why.

Did you looked like an ex lover? Or someone who passed away? Because if that's the case, then he won't find what he's looking for in you.

"I won't submit to you." you tried to make it clear. "I'm my own person. I can't act like someone else."

He takes your words as a challenge.

He'll transform you into the perfect puppet. You'll match his expectations and taste in all aspects. You'll love him with all your heart and wait for him to return to you at the end of the day. All you need is a little training. And by how things looks, you'll need an intense one.

"You think you can defy me, brat?" he was mocking you. His voice was so annoying.

His face, his body, his status, everything was getting on your nerves now.

"I'm going home." you said. It wasn't a question or request, you were letting him know.

"Try." the shock look on your face was priceless. You looked offended by his words and he couldn't ask for more. He lied, he will get more out of you. Words, expression, feelings, he wants to see everything.

You tried to get up the bed, ignoring the fact that he was right in front of you. He didn't stopped you, he just looked at your dumbfounded expression when your actions weren't stopped by him.

He laughed, his voice filling the whole room.

You looked like you were going to cry, and he couldn't help but want to bite you. Sink his teeth deep into your flesh and leave marks all over your body.

For a moment, you stopped in place, not daring to get close to the door anymore.

Where have you felt that feeling before? The feeling of being watched by a ferocious predator.

You slowly turn around, to look at him who was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. You recognize those red eyes now. It's the same as back then, when you almost successfully ran from home but you were met with that freak who made you turn around.

The realization look you had on your face made his eyes darker.

You had to get out of there, now.

You were if full panic mode, slowly walking backwards to the door, putting your hands on the handle and open it. Not a single second wasted as you ran down that hallway, dress in your arms and trying to get as far away from him as possible.

You stopped just for a moment to look back when you got to some stairs. He was nowhere to be seen, and you didn't know if you actually lost him or he was playing with you.

Whatever, you can think about that after you run from there.

The midnight clock could be heard in the background, but you weren't preoccupied by it. In fact, you couldn't even hear it, too focused on running down that mountain of stairs.

One of your shoes slipped off your foot. You turned around to look at it, and then you saw him, at the end of the stairs and looking down at you.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you almost stopped working for a moment.

Leave it there, a shoe didn't matter when you had far more things to worry about.

You soon got to a hallway, a big open door a few meters away of you, and you couldn't help but run even faster. But the closer you got, the more the door close. And by the time you got to it, it was completely shut.

"No, please!" you banged on the door. "Let me through." no answer.

You tried to open it, pulling it as hard as you can, but nothing. Going back wasn't an answer, and there weren't any other rooms that you could hide in.

There was only one option left. So many windows on your right, it was easy to open one and try to escape. And so you did, you opened a window and looked down for a moment. A broken neck doesn't sounds that bad, if you're thinking about it.

You took a deep breath, with a hand lifting as much of your dress in your arms, and with the other holding onto the window, ready to jump on it and see what the outcome of this event will be.

With no hesitation, you placed your knee on the window frame, trying to balance yours with your other foot and get on top of the window. But then you felt those big muscular arms wrapped around you once again.

"I didn't thought you had the balls to do it." his mouth was right into your ear, his voice leaving chills all over your body. "I might lock you in the basement if you continue to be a bad girl." he can do it, who's stopping him. You won't give up without a good fight.

"So? What do you want from me?" with this he knew you were the person he was looking for. Daring to disappear again just like back at the inn. You loved getting on his nerves, didn't you?

"We have unfinished business." what was he talking about?

"I didn't do anything." and that's the problem. The fact that you left him when he needed you. How dare you.

"Look at the time." he said when he was walking back on the stairs, holding you in his arms. With two holding your body and the other two wrapped around you, in case you planned on doing something crazy again.

"I told you, this is all a spell." and he can't wait for it to go away.

He stopped in place, and you had no idea what he was going to do. "Your shoe." he said, looking at the glass slipper.

"That would disappear too." but that didn't stopped him from moving one of his hands from you and picking up the glass slipper.

He continued walking back to that cursed room, throwing you in bed.

"Let's wait for the spell to break." he sat on a chair next to the door, waiting for your next move. Will your run to the door and try to escape again? Will you jump on him and try to harm him or will you try to jump out the window? He couldn't help but feel exited for your next move.

The disappointed look on his face when you just stood there. Looking down at the floor and from time to time at him with a ugly look in your eyes. You hated him? But that's a strong feeling, wasn't it?

And your words were true. You started glowing, and soon your appearance slightly changed. Your clothes were back to your old rags, your make up gone and your hair freely on your back.

He waited, excited. He couldn't help but wet his lips with his tongue, gulping and pressing his palms against each other. You better transform or he'll do it for you.

He expected more. He thought he'll see something unseen before. A monster, or you at your worst. You got him overthinking that your previous appearance was all a lie, but now you got him to want to bully you for lying to him.

He got up, getting closer to the bed. He stood there before you, expressionless, before he pushed you in bed, making you fall on your back.

"I didn't know you were a liar."

"What do you mean? The spell broke."

"You look exactly the same." he was on top of you, caging you between him and the bed. "You look even better than before." he was strange, truly.

"I still want to go home." you'll try as much as you can. There must be something that will work on this guy.

"I don't want you to."

"And who are you to decide for me?" he didn't respond to your question, choosing to ignore it like most of your questions. Instead, he smashed his lips against yours, his craving for your touch far too loud to ignore it.

And then it hits you. If you distract him, and act all sweet, you might actually be able to fool him and run away.

So, your hands wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer to you. He looked shocked, and for a moment he just stood there.

"What?" you spit those words at him, annoyed. Even if you cooperate with him, your words can't help but show your true colors.

"Take your clothes off." you gasped.

"I'm not doing this before marriage." you said, not wanting to do more than kissing.

"Consider the ball tonight the wedding ceremony." you looked at him in disbelief. "I'll take them off if you don't want to." even worse.

"I never did this before." you said. Maybe he'll have a heart and try to understand your situation.

"It's definitely going to hurt." no encouragement words? What a dickhead.

"I'll do it myself, no need for you to do a thing." you got up the bed, your hands traveling here and there, taking your time while undressing.

He stood at the edge of the bed, watching your every move. You can run if you want, the door is open, and it would stay that way until he leaves that room. So, you can try as much as you want, it's entertaining watching you fail.

But you didn't run, instead, you did as he said. Taking your clothes off with shaking hands and biting off any bad words you wanted to say out loud.

"Come and help me too." he could only laugh at your expression. But you got closer to the bed, no protests. He better sleep with his eyes open tonight.

He placed his much bigger hand on top of yours, dragging it on him.

You had no idea what to do. You kept looking at his body, at his arms, at his big chest, his shoulders. "Try and undress me, not just with your eyes." he was too much.

You slowly took whatever you could off him, and he just looked at you the whole time.

Now, when both of you were naked, you just stood there in front of him. You couldn't help but stare. He had two cocks, not one but two. I mean, he haves two of everything, but you didn't expect for him to have two dicks as well.

"Close your mouth and stop staring." he laughed at your dumbfounded expression.

"I don't know what to do." he tapped the placed next to him with his palm.

"Lay down here." you layed down on the bed, waiting for what he planned on doing. "You have to open your legs more." isn't he asking for too much already? One of his hands traveled in between your legs. "Look at me." you was expecting everything but to feel something licking your clit. You gasped, and looked at his hand. It was just a hand but it didn't felt that way at all. He laughed again. "I told you to look at me. Don't think of things you can't understand." but you don't get it. You could feel a tongue, traveling between your folds, going up and down, playing with your pearl.

"What's that?" you asked out of breath, forgetting how to even breath for a moment.

"This?" he showed you his palm, which was having a mouth on it. Since when was it there? His hand went back between your legs, playing with your clit again, one of his other hands joining in, as you felt something at your entrance. "Keep your eyes on mine or I'll give you something to occupy yourself with." you had no idea what he was planning to do. With a quick move, he stood up, his dicks against your face. "You know what to do." you looked up at him, at his dumb grin and then at his friends that were right in your face. "Open your mouth." one of his thumbs was on your lips, pressed against it to make you open it and suck on it. He then moved his hand and took one of his cocks, giving it to you to do your thing.

You weren't trained to please him, but even so, he had some expectations from you.

You could do it. If others could, so can you. But look at you, who can't even take half of his fat cock into your mouth.

"Do good and I'll reward you." he said and added another finger inside your wet pussy. "See?" he said and curled his fingers. "Now get to work."

With your head pressed against his thigh, you wrapped a hand around one of his cocks, while trying to take the other in your mouth.

He let out a loud groan, making you unsure if you should continue or stop.

A promise is a promise, and he's true to his words. Since you're trying so hard to please him, he should return the favor. He kept curling his fingers, going in and out of you as his mouth kept playing with your pretty clit. He was touching all the good places, he knew that, and he didn't stopped a bit. Now determined to discover even more places and touch better than before.

Your walls started to clench around him, squeezing him so tight and making him wander how that will feel around his cock.

"You wanna cum? You better keep working then." his words made you try even harder, too desperate of that foreign feeling inside of you.

He kept moving his hands, and you kept trying to figure out what to do to him. But oh, you were so close that you couldn't think straight anymore. And it happened in a flash, your mind going blank and trembling under his touch as you came.

He kept his hands moving for a little longer before stopping, when you finally came to your senses.

"Now focus on me." his hands went away from you, now gripping your hair and pushing your head down his length. You tapped his thigh, too afraid you won't be able to breathe anymore. He moved your head, sometimes he moved his own hips, and soon, he was going to cum too. "Don't let spill anything. Swallow." he said before cumming down your throat.

This was more than enough. You didn't had the strength to go further than this.

Intimacy can be too tiring. And he looked like he enjoys sucking the energy out of you.

"We're not done yet." not yet? What more does he wants from you?

He got on top of you, positioning between your legs. Two of his arms places next to you, while one held your hips. With his only free hand left, he held one of his cocks at your entrance, rubbing his head against your pussy. Getting his head inside your cunt, then drag it out to rub it between your folds, rubbing it against your clit. Then back at your warm entrance again, slowly getting his head inside, just to get out and then again.

He was playing with you. He was enjoying seeing you mad.

But this time, when he got his tip inside of you, he kept pushing, going deeper and deeper. And he didn't stopped until he got inside all the way in.

Warm, wet and hugging him just right. He loved it. He could stay inside of you forever.

His face got closer to yours, looking at you and at the way you were struggling to fit him in. But he been so attentive to you, and you can't even fit him in.

Slowly, he moved his hips, in and out at a calm pace. It gave you all the time you needed understand how you managed to fit him in. And it also gave him time to understand how painfully slow this was.

His revenge was going to wait a lot before he fucks you properly.

He wanted to rearrange your inside for the way you left him, but now he had no option but to wait.

He's going crazy. He's dying in your arms and you're not doing anything. You're not talking to him, you're not looking at him.

He grabbed your cheeks, pushing them together and making your lips come forward.

"What?" you tried to say.

He kissed you, making you wrap your arms around him as he kept moving his hips.

This was better, when you held him in your arms was so much better. It made this fire inside of him calm down and let him realize the situation he's in.

One of his hands went between your bodies, softly rubbing your clit as he kept moving, making your bodies slightly rock together.

His tongue inside your mouth, his movement was so sloppy, not having a proper rhythms but keep increasing the force he kept slamming into you with.

The first orgams pulled out of you with force, him not giving you a moment to breath and keep going for it until he filled your warm walls with his hot cum.

But when you thought it was over, it never was.

He got out of you, giving you a break for a moment before you felt him back between your legs, this time a lot more bigger. He had both of his dicks in his hand, now trying to push them inside of your pussy to fill you up.

"It won't fit." you said, trying to stop him from this madness.

"Take a deep breath." he said before finally managing to get inside.

He was going to kill you, because this was too much. The way he split you open, being stretched out like never before. And he kept moving his hips too, like the fact that you still haven't accommodate to this strange feeling meant nothing to him.

It hurted, but at the same time, the way he kept you open felt good. And you hate to admit it but you might cum just from this alone.

His hips kept moving, and this weird feeling started to feel so much better. It went to the point where you started crying, too much for you to handle.

"Shh. You can take it." he said, a hand moving some hair away from your face.

He liked those hot tears that were falling from your eyes. It made him wander why he didn't try to make you cry a lot earlier.

Can you even come again? He can't help but wander. Guess he haves to find that out himself.

Pounding into you, keeping you wrapped in his arms and not giving you a break. He managed to make you cum again, now focused on the way your squeezing him again. And just like last time, he painted your insides white, this time getting you fuller than last time.

But it's not over, because he haves to try this again, but from another position.

You didn't managed to last too long and fell asleep in his arms, the next day waking all alone in there.

You wasted no time in putting your clothes back on and running out that room, down the stairs and back into that hallway. Being welcomed with a close door that was blocking your way out. Now having no choice but go back to that room and wait for him to arrive back. Who knows what he's planning to do this time.

Author'a note: I was planning on making Gojo and Geto the step brothers but then it would have because their fan fic. I might write something similar to this but for them. Dunno tho, I'm too lazy to do it.

[novaursa]

Legacy (strings of time)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: dark wings

- Next part: long live the king

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @luniaxi

The air on Dragonstone was heavy with the scent of salt and sulfur, the volcanic island shrouded in an eerie mist that clung to its ancient stone walls. Melisandre stood alone in the shadowed chamber of the Painted Table, her crimson robes flowing like molten fire as she chanted in the guttural tones of her native Asshai. The flickering flames of the surrounding braziers cast dancing shadows against the walls, the light refracting through the ruby at her throat, which pulsed like a heartbeat.

Before her, a small brazier burned with an unnatural intensity, fed by oils and powders she had sprinkled into its depths. The fire danced and leaped, responding to her incantations, its flames twisting into shapes that seemed to defy the natural world. Faces appeared briefly—shadowy, indistinct forms that flickered in and out of existence like ghosts.

She was searching, reaching across the vastness of Westeros for her target. The former Targaryen princess, now Lady Lannister, was an anomaly to her visions, an enigma that refused to be revealed fully. Melisandre’s lips moved faster, her voice rising in urgency as she pushed harder against the veil of the unseen.

But then, something shifted.

The flames, which had been obedient and malleable, suddenly roared higher, blazing with a white-hot intensity that forced Melisandre to step back. A wave of heat rolled over her, searing and oppressive, and she raised her hands to shield her face. The ruby at her throat flared violently, its light so bright it painted the chamber in crimson.

“No!” she hissed, her voice breaking. “Show me! Reveal her to me!”

But instead of clarity, the fire erupted in a burst of chaotic energy. A deafening roar filled the chamber, echoing like the cry of a great beast, and a sudden force slammed into Melisandre, sending her sprawling to the floor. Her head struck the cold stone with a sickening crack, and the room spun as she struggled to regain her bearings.

The flames in the brazier had turned black, writhing and twisting as if alive, and from within the inferno, a shape began to emerge. It was dark and indistinct, but there was a sense of immense power emanating from it—something ancient and wild, something that defied her control.

The ruby at her throat burned like a brand, and she cried out, clutching at it as a searing pain shot through her body. Her connection to the flames, to her magic, was being turned against her, and she felt the power she had called forth recoil like a snake, striking at its master.

“No!” she gasped, her voice a mix of pain and desperation. “This cannot be!”

The shadowy form in the flames surged forward, and for a moment, Melisandre thought she saw the outline of a dragon—massive wings and a serpentine neck, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. The roar came again, shaking the very foundations of the chamber, and the flames exploded outward in a wave of force that extinguished the braziers and plunged the room into darkness.

Melisandre lay motionless on the floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The ruby at her throat had dimmed, its light flickering weakly, and the room was deathly silent except for the faint crackling of the dying fire. Her hands trembled as she pushed herself up, her vision swimming.

“What… what was that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

A faint whisper echoed in the darkness, a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It was deep and resonant, carrying a weight that made her blood run cold.

"You meddle in powers beyond your understanding, priestess."

Her breath hitched, and she looked around wildly, but the chamber was empty. The fire in the brazier had gone out completely, leaving only smoldering ashes. The ruby at her throat gave one final, weak pulse of light before dimming entirely.

Shaken, Melisandre staggered to her feet, clutching the edge of the Painted Table for support. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of what had happened. She had sought to pierce the veil, to uncover the truth about the Targaryen woman who had eluded her visions, but instead, she had been struck by a force far greater than anything she had encountered before.

“She is protected,” Melisandre whispered, her voice trembling. “By what, I do not know, but she is not alone in this world.”

Her gaze turned to the darkened brazier, the lingering scent of burnt oils still heavy in the air. She felt a pang of unease, a rare crack in her unwavering confidence. Whatever power surrounded the Targaryen woman, it was beyond her control, and that realization sent a chill down her spine.

With unsteady steps, Melisandre left the chamber, her mind reeling. She would have to tread carefully now, for the game had become far more dangerous than she had anticipated.

The warm glow of the mid-morning sun streamed through the arched windows of the Red Keep as you walked with Ser Barristan at your side and two of Tywin’s personal guards trailing close behind. It had been one moon since the shadow had invaded your bedchamber, and the increased protection around you had become your constant reality. Every step you took was measured, every moment scrutinized, and yet, the weight of unseen threats lingered.

As you rounded a corner leading to the gardens, soft, muffled sobs reached your ears. Your steps faltered, and you exchanged a glance with Ser Barristan, who instinctively moved closer, his eyes scanning the area for potential threats. But it wasn’t danger that awaited you—just heartbreak.

There, beneath the shade of a tall ash tree, you saw Sansa Stark crumpled on a stone bench, her face buried in her hands. Her delicate shoulders shook as she wept, and beside her sat Margaery Tyrell, her arm wrapped around Sansa’s trembling form, whispering words of comfort.

Concerned, you quickened your pace, your gown trailing behind you as you approached. “Sansa?” you called softly, your voice filled with worry. “What’s happened?”

Both women looked up, Sansa’s tear-streaked face breaking your heart. Her blue eyes were swollen and red, her expression one of utter despair. Margaery, ever poised, gave you a faint smile of greeting, though her own eyes carried a shadow of frustration.

“My lady,” Margaery began, her voice smooth but tinged with sadness, “it seems the council has made a… decision this morning. One that has upset Sansa greatly.”

Your stomach tightened, dread pooling in your chest as you looked between them. “What decision?” you asked, your tone sharpening as your gaze fixed on Margaery.

Margaery sighed, brushing a strand of Sansa’s auburn hair away from her tear-streaked face. “They have decided that Sansa is to marry Lord Tyrion. The arrangement was finalized this morning.”

For a moment, the words didn’t register. When they did, your breath caught, a rush of disbelief and anger flooding through you. “Tyrion?” you repeated, your voice low but incredulous. “This was not the plan. The Tyrells promised she would marry Willas, did you not?”

Margaery’s smile faltered, replaced by a look of resigned frustration. “We did, my lady, but Lord Tywin is not a man to be countered easily. It seems he was… persuasive.”

Sansa let out a quiet sob, shaking her head as she clung to Margaery’s arm. “They’re using me,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I have no choice. They’re… they’re taking everything from me.”

You knelt before her, gently taking her hands in yours. “Sansa,” you said softly, your tone firm yet filled with compassion, “look at me.”

Reluctantly, she raised her tear-filled eyes to meet yours.

“This is not fair, and it is not right,” you continued, your voice steady. “But you are stronger than you know. Tyrion is not like the others—he is not cruel. If this is to happen, you will not be alone in it.”

Sansa’s lips trembled, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t love him. I barely even know him.”

Your heart ached for her, and you squeezed her hands gently. “Love is rarely a luxury afforded to those of us born into noble houses,” you said softly. “But you have survived worse, Sansa. You will survive this too.”

Margaery glanced at you, her expression thoughtful. “You speak with such certainty, my lady. Do you truly believe this will be a kinder fate for her?”

You met her gaze, your own eyes shadowed by the weight of your experiences. “I know Tyrion,” you replied quietly. “He is flawed, yes, but he is not heartless. He will not harm her.”

Margaery seemed to consider this, her lips pressing into a thin line before she nodded. “Then perhaps there is some hope,” she murmured, though her tone lacked conviction.

Sansa sniffled, her tears slowing slightly as she clung to your words. “What if… what if they change their minds again?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What if they decide something even worse?”

You shook your head firmly. “Then I will stand by you,” you said, your voice unwavering. “No matter what happens, you will not face it alone.”

Ser Barristan, who had remained a respectful distance away, stepped closer, his presence a quiet reminder of your own precarious position in the court. You rose to your feet, glancing back at him briefly before returning your focus to Sansa and Margaery.

“Stay with her,” you said to Margaery, your tone soft but commanding. “She needs someone who can keep her steady right now.”

Margaery nodded, her expression solemn. “Of course.”

You reached out, brushing a strand of Sansa’s hair away from her face. “Take the time you need to grieve this, Sansa,” you said gently. “But do not let it consume you. You are a wolf, and wolves endure.”

She nodded faintly, her tears slowing as a flicker of determination began to creep into her expression. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

As you turned to leave, Barristan fell into step beside you, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. “You spoke well, my lady,” he said quietly. “But this court is filled with vipers. You cannot save everyone.”

You glanced at him, your expression hardening. “Perhaps not, Ser Barristan,” you replied, your voice low. “But I can try. And I will not let her be devoured by them.”

The weight of your words hung between you as you walked away, your mind racing with thoughts of how to protect Sansa in a world determined to break her.

The chamber where Tywin and Olenna Tyrell sat was austere. The Painted Table between them was littered with scrolls, maps, and the remnants of a freshly poured pot of tea. Tywin, ever composed, sat upright in his chair, his steely gaze fixed on Olenna, whose sharp wit and relaxed demeanor made the tension in the room almost seen.

"You do understand, Lady Olenna," Tywin said in his measured tone, "this arrangement is not up for negotiation. Sansa Stark will marry my son, Tyrion. It is the best way to secure both her claim to Winterfell and the loyalty of the North, should Roose Bolton’s efforts falter."

Olenna tilted her head, a sardonic smile playing on her lips as she sipped her tea. "Yes, yes, Lord Tywin, but you can’t possibly expect the girl to be overjoyed at this prospect. A Lannister wedding is hardly a maiden’s dream these days. You’ve quite the reputation, you know."

Before Tywin could reply, the door opened abruptly, and you stepped in, your gown trailing behind you as Ser Barristan lingered in the doorway. The room grew heavier as both Tywin and Olenna turned their gazes toward you, the latter looking more intrigued than perturbed by the interruption.

“Forgive me,” you said, though your tone carried little contrition. “But I need to speak with you, Lord Tywin.”

Tywin arched a brow, his hands folding neatly in front of him. “We are in the middle of a discussion, Lady Y/N,” he said, his tone cold but measured. “Surely it can wait.”

“It cannot,” you countered, stepping further into the room. Your gaze flickered briefly to Olenna, who watched with unabashed interest. “This is about Sansa Stark.”

Olenna’s brows rose slightly, and she leaned back in her chair, clearly pleased to witness the exchange.

“What about her?” Tywin asked, his voice edged with impatience.

You clasped your hands in front of you, your posture straight and unyielding. “I’ve just spoken with her. She’s devastated by this decision to marry her to Tyrion. She was promised to Willas Tyrell. You’ve taken her hope and replaced it with something she cannot understand. She is a child, Tywin.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed, his composure hardening further. “She is a Stark, and she is a key to securing the North. Her feelings are irrelevant.”

You stepped closer, your voice rising slightly. “Irrelevant? You would sacrifice her peace of mind, her future, for your ambition?”

Tywin stood, his towering form casting a long shadow across the table. “Peace of mind?” he repeated, his tone cold. “You speak of peace as though it were a luxury afforded to those in power. It is not. Sansa Stark has a duty to her family and to the realm. Just as you do.”

Olenna smirked, sipping her tea as she watched the exchange unfold like a play meant for her amusement.

“Duty,” you snapped, your voice sharp now. “Always duty with you, Tywin. Did you ever once consider the weight of what you demand from others? Or is everything and everyone simply another puppet to be moved around when it suits you?”

The room fell silent, the air crackling between you. Olenna’s eyes darted between the two of you, her smirk growing wider.

“I fail to see why this concerns you so deeply,” Tywin said finally, his tone softer but no less commanding. “You’ve made your point, Lady Y/N. Now leave the matter to those who understand it.”

You crossed your arms, tilting your head slightly as you replied, “If you understood it so well, Tywin, you wouldn’t have to deal with me right now.”

For a moment, it seemed as though Tywin might argue further, but then a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He shook his head slightly, his expression shifting into something almost amused, though his voice remained firm. “Very well. I’ll speak with Sansa myself and ensure she understands her duty. You may go.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden concession, but you refused to let it show. Nodding curtly, you turned on your heel and left the room, Ser Barristan falling into step beside you as the door closed behind you.

Olenna chuckled softly, setting her teacup down with a satisfied clink. “Well, that was entertaining,” she said, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief. “I must say, Tywin, I didn’t think you had it in you to yield so gracefully.”

Tywin exhaled slowly, lowering himself back into his chair. “It wasn’t yielding,” he replied, his tone clipped. “It was strategy.”

Olenna leaned forward slightly, her grin widening. “Oh, is that what you’re calling it now? Strategy? I’ve never seen you so…” She waved a hand, searching for the word. “Accommodating.”

Tywin shot her a warning look, but Olenna merely laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “I like her,” she said, nodding toward the door. “She has spirit. A dangerous thing to allow in your wife, but entertaining nonetheless.”

Tywin didn’t respond, instead turning his attention back to the maps before him, though the faintest flicker of amusement lingered in his eyes.

The echoes of your footsteps on the stone floor were accompanied by Ser Barristan’s steady presence behind you. The corridor felt colder as you moved toward your chambers, the weight of your conversation with Tywin still fresh in your mind. As you rounded a corner, a familiar figure appeared before you—Cersei, her golden locks framing her smug expression. Her arms were crossed, and the glint in her emerald eyes told you she had been waiting for this encounter.

“Well, if it isn’t the Lady Lannister herself,” Cersei drawled, her tone laced with condescension. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”

You stopped, your expression calm but guarded. “Cersei,” you greeted, your voice civil. “What brings you here?”

She took a step closer, her eyes flickering briefly to your midsection before returning to your face. “I was merely curious,” she said with a practiced smile. “How is the pregnancy progressing? My father must be… overjoyed.”

Your hand instinctively rested on your growing belly, though your face betrayed none of the irritation her words stirred. “It progresses well,” you replied evenly. “Better than Grand Maester Pycelle expected, though I doubt his predictions are ever worth much.”

Cersei let out a soft laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Yes, Pycelle has a way of overstating his usefulness. But how fascinating that you’re handling it so well. I wonder, is it because of your Valyrian blood? Or do you simply thrive on being the center of attention?”

You met her gaze steadily, refusing to rise to the bait. “It’s neither, Cersei. Perhaps I’m simply stronger than you give me credit for.”

Her smirk faltered briefly before she recovered, stepping even closer. “Strength is important,” she said, her tone softening, though her eyes remained calculating. “Especially when surrounded by people pretending to be something else. You should remember that.”

“I do,” you replied, your voice calm but firm. “And I’ve learned that strength comes not from tearing others down but from knowing when to rise above them.”

Cersei’s lips tightened, but she masked it quickly with another smile. “How noble of you,” she said archly. “I imagine you must be feeling quite sad about all of this.”

You tilted your head slightly, curious. “Sad? About what, exactly?”

Her smile widened, her tone turning syrupy. “About poor little Sansa, of course. Such a sweet girl, isn’t she? So naive. It must pain you to see her traded like a pawn in a game she doesn’t understand.”

You allowed a pause, studying her carefully before replying. “It does pain me,” you said softly. “But not for the reasons you think.”

Cersei arched an eyebrow, her amusement flickering with confusion. “Oh? Do enlighten me, then.”

You stepped closer, your gaze steady and unflinching as you lowered your voice. “It pains me, Cersei, because I see so much of you in her. A young girl, trapped in a world she cannot control, used and discarded by those around her. But where Sansa may still find hope, you…” You let the sentence hang, your tone laced with veiled courtesy. “You’ve lost yours.”

Her face hardened, the smugness draining away as she stared at you. “What nonsense is this?” she demanded, her voice low but sharp. “I’ve lost nothing.”

You offered a faint, almost pitying smile. “Haven’t you? You wear your crown of bitterness like armor, Cersei. But all it does is isolate you, even from those who should stand beside you.”

Her jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing. “Careful, Lady Lannister,” she said coldly. “You may be my father’s wife, but that does not grant you the right to lecture me.”

“I have no intention of lecturing,” you replied smoothly. “Only to remind you that strength comes in many forms. You may believe yourself untouchable, but even the tallest towers can crumble when their foundations are weak.”

Cersei’s gaze burned into yours, her hands clenched at her sides. For a moment, it seemed as though she might lash out, but instead, she forced a tight smile. “You think yourself so wise, don’t you?” she said, her voice dripping with venom. “But wisdom won’t save you from this game. You’ll see that soon enough.”

You inclined your head slightly, the gesture both respectful and dismissive. “Perhaps. But for now, I must prepare for the rest of the day. If you’ll excuse me, Cersei.”

You moved past her, your steps measured and composed, leaving her standing alone in the corridor. As you walked away, you felt her gaze burning into your back, but you did not look back. Ser Barristan fell into step beside you, his expression stoic but his presence reassuring.

“You were bold,” he murmured quietly. “She will not forget that.”

“She doesn’t need to forget,” you replied softly, your voice steady. “She only needs to think.”

Tywin sat at the head of the table, his posture as straight and imposing as ever, his hands steepled before him as he continued listening to Olenna Tyrell with a mixture of patience and calculation.

Olenna, for her part, seemed perfectly at ease, perched in her chair with an air of casual authority. Her sharp eyes danced with amusement as she studied Tywin, her teacup cradled delicately in her hands.

“Lord Tywin,” she began, her tone laced with a sly edge, “you and I have had many discussions about alliances, strategies, and, of course, the peculiarities of your family. But today, I thought we might delve into something a little more… personal.”

Tywin raised an eyebrow, though his expression remained stoic. “Personal, Lady Olenna? I was under the impression that our discussions were strictly political.”

“Oh, politics and personal matters are often one and the same,” Olenna replied breezily, taking a delicate sip of her tea. “Especially when it comes to you, Lord Tywin. You’ve built your house on both, haven’t you?”

Tywin’s gaze sharpened slightly, though his tone remained cool. “If you have a point, Lady Olenna, I suggest you make it.”

Olenna set her teacup down with a soft clink, leaning forward slightly as her expression grew more pointed. “Very well. I’ve recently had the pleasure of reconnecting with an old acquaintance—someone who, let’s say, remembers the court of King Aerys rather vividly.”

Tywin’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, but he said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“This acquaintance of mine,” Olenna went on, her voice smooth and unhurried, “mentioned something quite interesting about you. Specifically, about your… ambitions during those years. A certain proposal you made to the Mad King regarding his youngest daughter.”

Tywin’s expression didn’t change, but there was a faint glint of something in his eyes—irritation, perhaps, or caution. “And what, pray, does this acquaintance claim to know?”

Olenna’s smile widened, the corners of her lips curling with satisfaction. “Oh, nothing too scandalous. Just that you were rather… eager to secure a match between yourself and the young princess. A match, it seems, that the Mad King outright rejected.”

Tywin’s gaze darkened, his voice low but measured. “That is old history, Lady Olenna. If your intent is to dredge up ancient slights, I suggest you focus on matters more relevant to the present.”

“Oh, but it is relevant,” Olenna countered, her tone sharp as a blade. “After all, here we are, decades later, and you’ve finally achieved what you wanted, haven’t you? A Targaryen bride, the union of fire and gold.”

Tywin’s jaw clenched slightly, though he refused to rise to her bait. “What happened in the past is of no consequence to the decisions I make now.”

“Isn’t it?” Olenna pressed, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I find it fascinating, really. You’ve always prided yourself on being a man of logic and control, yet here you are, married to the very woman whose family’s rejection you’ve surely never forgotten. One might wonder if this is about more than just strategy.”

Tywin leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a cold, measured tone. “You would do well to remember, Lady Olenna, that I do not allow sentiment to cloud my judgment. My marriage to Lady Y/N is a calculated move—one that ensures the stability and legacy of House Lannister.”

Olenna chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Oh, Tywin, you’re as predictable as ever. Always so quick to dismiss anything that might suggest you’re… human. But you forget, I’ve known men like you all my life. You can claim strategy all you like, but I see it for what it is. You wanted her. You’ve always wanted her.”

Tywin’s gaze bore into hers, his silence heavy and deliberate. For a moment, something unspoken was in the room, the air thick with unspoken truths.

Finally, Olenna broke the silence, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. “Well, whatever your reasons, I must admit, it’s all rather fascinating. The Mad King’s refusal, your patience—or perhaps obsession—and now this union. I do hope it works out for you, Tywin. It would be such a shame if history repeated itself.”

Tywin’s voice was as cold as steel when he finally spoke. “I appreciate your insights, Lady Olenna. But you would do well to remember that my choices are mine alone. If you wish to continue speculating on my motives, I suggest you do so elsewhere.”

Olenna smirked, rising from her seat with a regal grace. “Oh, don’t worry, Lord Tywin. I have no intention of causing trouble. But as I said, I find it all very… enlightening. Good day.”

With that, she turned and swept out of the room, leaving Tywin alone with his thoughts. For a moment, he sat in silence, his hands steepled before him once more. His face betrayed nothing, but his mind churned with the memories Olenna had dredged up—memories he had long since buried.

The memories unfolded in Tywin’s mind like pages from an old, worn book. The vivid colors and echoes of King’s Landing during the height of Aerys Targaryen’s reign came rushing back—though the stench of paranoia and decay that lingered in the Red Keep overshadowed its grandeur. It was the day Tywin had laid out his plans to the Mad King, the day he believed he would solidify the ultimate alliance between House Lannister and House Targaryen.

The throne room was alive with dread, its gilded splendor marred by the unsettling presence of Aerys on the Iron Throne. The Mad King, even then, exuded a sense of menace, his long, unkempt hair cascading over his gaunt face, his violet eyes burning with deranged delight as he listened to Tywin.

"You think," Aerys had said, his voice high-pitched and mocking, "that I would tie my daughter—the blood of Old Valyria, the dragon's line—to you, Tywin? To a lion? A beast of the field?"

Tywin had stood at the base of the Iron Throne, as unflinching as he had been when he first took up the position of Hand. He had chosen his words carefully, keeping his tone steady and devoid of the sharpness that often accompanied his temper. “Your Grace,” he began, “a union between House Lannister and House Targaryen would strengthen the realm immeasurably. My daughter, Cersei, is young and beautiful, a match fit for Prince Rhaegar. And I—”

“You,” Aerys interrupted with a cackle, leaning forward on the throne, his fingers twitching against the jagged edges of the swords that surrounded him. “You would take my daughter as your wife? A dragoness for a lion?”

Varys had been there, lingering in the shadows, his expression inscrutable as his keen eyes darted between Tywin and the Mad King. Several courtiers stood nearby, including Lord Chelsted and Lord Merryweather, their faces betraying thinly veiled discomfort at the volatile mood in the room.

“I would,” Tywin continued, ignoring the ripple of murmurs that spread through the chamber. “Lady Y/N is a princess of royal blood, but she is also young and unwed. A match between us would unify the crown and the wealthiest house in the realm. Such a bond—”

“Enough!” Aerys’s voice boomed, and he rose from the throne, his movements erratic. He descended the steps slowly, his robes trailing behind him like blackened fire. “You think to bind me with your gold, Tywin? To cage the dragons with your lions’ claws? No. Never.”

Tywin remained composed, though the heat of anger burned beneath his skin. “Your Grace, I seek only to serve the realm and secure the future of your house. A union with House Lannister—”

“Would be an insult!” Aerys snarled, his voice echoing off the walls. “The blood of the dragon is pure, untainted by the likes of you. Lions have no place among dragons. They belong in the dirt, clawing for scraps.”

Laughter erupted from Aerys, high and shrill, as he turned his back on Tywin and ascended the steps once more. “Perhaps your daughter can find herself a kennel,” Aerys continued, his voice dripping with malice. “And as for you, Tywin, you forget your place. You serve me. Do not presume to dictate terms to your king.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the courtiers, though it was hesitant, wary. Varys stepped forward then, his movements as fluid as a shadow. “Your Grace,” the spymaster said, his voice silken and unassuming, “perhaps Lord Tywin’s offer was made out of his deep respect for your house. A rare moment of… misjudgment, surely.”

Aerys turned to Varys, his expression shifting from contempt to suspicion. “Misjudgment?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes. “Or treason?”

“Never treason, Your Grace,” Varys replied smoothly. “Lord Tywin’s loyalty is beyond question. But he is ambitious, and ambition often blinds even the most loyal servants.”

Tywin’s gaze flicked to Varys briefly, his jaw tightening. He knew the eunuch’s words were calculated, a subtle way of defusing the situation while also keeping Aerys’s ire focused elsewhere.

The Mad King waved his hand dismissively, his attention already waning. “Begone, Tywin,” he muttered, sinking back onto the Iron Throne. “And take your golden dreams with you. My bloodline will not be sullied by yours.”

Tywin bowed stiffly, his mind churning with barely restrained fury as he turned and left the chamber. The laughter of Aerys echoed behind him, a sound that would linger in his memory for years to come.

Back in the present, Tywin’s jaw tightened as he recalled that day, the humiliation of being so openly dismissed. Aerys’s madness had only grown after that, and the rift between them widened beyond repair. It was a lesson he never forgot: power was not given—it was taken, seized with unrelenting force.

And now, decades later, he had what Aerys had denied him. The Targaryen princess was his, bound by marriage and bearing his child. Tywin’s lips thinned into a faint smirk. Aerys had laughed at him, but the Mad King was long dead, his dragons reduced to ashes, while Tywin Lannister remained unbroken, building his legacy one calculated step at a time.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Staring into the void thinking about my unloved little guy favorites and feeling the thoughts mix with my adoration for stupid niche crossovers. I want a svsss x Naruto crossover but instead of anyone especially notable from svsss who crosses over it's my favorite "really not as bad as he could be" award winner, Ming Fan

Squinting back at naruto and flipping a coin to decide if he lands in warring states era or modern konoha and deciding I like both of these options, so we're going to do 2 separate stories/timelines. Or maybe we'll have him land in the past then get flashed forward to future Konoha when he tries going home so he gets the best of both worlds, who knows— I'll decide when I get there.

With that said, buckle in baby because it's time for:

✨️ Ming Fans very unfortunate fall into the mess that is naruto canon ✨️

Ming Fan gets flung into another dimension due the ultimate possible sin in svsss: being a background character.

Some obligatory crazy adventure was happening to Luo Binghe and SQQ involving some magic artifact, and in your stereotypical "someone not too important to the plot touches the object and gets exploded, proving it's dangerous to touch + upsetting SQQ so LB can appropriately comfort him" (probably originally a wife plot) scene, Ming Fan gets zapped into naruto canon. Woops!

If it helps him feel any better, SQQ really is upset by this. Binghe is not. At all. He might think it's karma but also this guy doesn't know the first fucking thing about appropriate levels of karma so maybe he should keep his mouth shut.

(Neither of these facts make him feel better but do you know what does? Imagining SQQ yelling at Binghe for this. He's so fucking sure it's that guy's fault somehow. It's always his fault somehow.)

So boom, he gets zapped into the worst possible (and my personal favorite moment for inconvenient time travel) moments; The final battle between the Uchiha and the Senju.

Specifically, he gets zapped directly onto Tobirama's sword. Queue shocked Pikachu faces from everyone— including Ming Fan but with added dramatic blood and cursing in chinese. Bc hey!! They don't speak the same fucking language actually!!

Unfortunate.

So Tbrm and Izuna both jump back away from this unknown as Ming Fan continues to bleed and curse and be very fucking confused as to where he was.

He took the hit in the shoulder of his non dominant arm, it's a pretty clean cut and he's a cultivator so he'll be fine with some rest but MAN if it don't hurt like a bitch. On top of the motion sickness of being launched through time and space too, and wrapped up in a little bow of "surrounded by hostile looking strangers all yelling in a language I don't understand"

Yeah he's not having the greatest time right now.

So like, Ming Fan just sort of appeared out of nowhere, right? Which has Tobirama extra fucked up bc, yk, hiraishin.

Izuna doesn't know that he was just saved from death death, so he's appropriately grateful at avoiding being stabbed but also like. Who the fuck are you. How did you get here. You just interrupted my battle with my rival and I take a little offense to that actually.

Everyone is yelling and confused and Ming Fan is seriously debating hopping on his sword and flying off because fuck this.

Madara and Hashirama finally enter stage left and are both like "well he's not one of ours" so now everyone is eyeing him even more suspiciously and a couple people are for sure lowkey tensing to attack

Enter convenient svsss mcguffin! Because "idk it sounds like something SQQ would know how to do," Ming Fan knows some language technique that allows him to speak/understand a language for a certain amount of time.

So he grabs his sword and circulates his qi to prepare the technique, and everyone tenses up because hey what are you doing over there buddy

Tobirama, a really good sensor, can actually sense the differences between Ming Fan's qi circulating through his dantian vs how shinobi would circulate chakra through their chakra coils. So he's holding a hand up like 'wait let him cook' @ the Senju who tensed up for a possible attack, if only because he wants to see where this goes and is confident that if he tried anything fr, well, he's kind of surrounded on all sides rn by two entirely different factions

The Uchiha meanwhile don't want to be the first to strike, so everyone's just kinda cautiously gripping their weapons in this very odd battlefield stall

And boom: now he can speak their language.

I'd say the first thing he does is grab Tobirama and shake him while cussing him out about watching where he's swinging that sword of is but he's smarter than that. (For sure it's what he wants to do tho. He is picturing it. Oh man is he picturing it.)

So like, actual communication for now

Now. PIDW is fucking filled with all sorts of mcguffins, "I touched something I shouldnt have and when I opened my eyes I was somewhere strange" is alarmingly common, and the sect absoloutley has some sort of "teleportation checklist" to run through whenever your random, unfortunate disciple gets fucking zapped.

(I like to hc that Shang Quinghua had some sort of hand in making an "official" checklist taught across the peaks, and that different peaks treat this checklist with uhh,, different amounts of respect. (LQG thinks its useless but has simultaneously run the tally for peak lord whose gotten stranded by artifacts he shouldn't have touched the most. These two facts may be directly correlated.))

Anyways; Ming Fan gets to doing that checklist. He's demanding to know where he is, when he doesn't recognize the name, how close he is to the sea, what year and time of the year it is, where the nearest sect is, etc.

At first this is directed at Izuna and Tobirama both, but when Izuna fails to answer as directly as Tobirama does (with quick, flat answers) and also tries to return the questions ("who are you, how did you get here, etc.") he directs his attention soley to Tobirama. Even though hes a little BITCH and stabbed him

(Ming Fan can recognize he teleported directly onto his blade but this will not change him being butt hurt ab it)

For everyone watching, this is weird as all hell! Who is this guy? Why these questions? Ew why is he deferring to the Senju, our Izuna-sama would be so much better to ask—

Now, quick side note, the thing about Ming Fan is he's just like a dude. He's just a guy. But also he's really not, but also he really is? If that makes sense?

He's the senior most disciple and (correct me if I'm wrong here bc its been a while) SQQ's head disciple, which means he'll be the next peak lord in however many years when SQQ and his generation chooses to ascend. So he's definatley not a slacker when it comes to power or wit. Even if he does rank pretty low in the overall SVSSS canon, but also like, yeah, background character vs actual heavenly demons n shit.

So he's definitely a pretty impressive guy!! But also he's just a guy. And he's in contact with the power houses and freaks that is SVSSS main cast (*cough* Luo Bingghe *cough*) So his sense of self and where be ranks power wise is probably skewed to a degree. (Though I imagine that when left to his own devices and not having to defer to his shizun, he definitely suffers from "haughty bitch disease" (tragically not fatal, for now at least)

Thus; cultivator version of just a dude. I love him!!

(arguably the only better option for the "svsss just a dude award" would be Gongyi Xiao, who I also love dearly but he's not here right now, so, winner by default Ming Fan!!! (Story of his fucking life tbh))

Anyways, back to plot:

So, thinking that Ming Fan immediatley recognizes Tobirama's hiraishin design bc it was actually enscribed on whatever artifect got him sent here. Wwoahhh mystery or something idk but theres that

(Was Airplane thinking about naruto when he created this specific object? Did he maybe google "sealing design ideas" then copy paste the hiraishin directly into his work, knowing no one but him would know what he had done since there was no artwork to go with it? Maybe. Perhaps. Just possibly.)

I honestly dont really know where itd go from that, but like Ming Fan probably sticks around specifically to harass Tobirama in the hopes he can send him home.

He points at the Hiraishin and goes "Your talisman brought me here. Take responsibility."

Tobirama understands this as his activation of the Hiraishin in battle literally summoned Ming Fan (only half true) and the poor mans presence here is thus entirely his fault. (Ehhhhh not really)

Ming Fan will not correct this assumption.

Either way though, Tobirama would not give up the chance / excuse to interact with and help return an interdimensional traveler. Can you say science experiment?? Because Tobirama sure fucking can!

Tobirama ends up having a fucking field day trying to find ways to replicate Ming Fan's different techniques with chakra instead of qi, and just in general studying how the energy in their bodies flows and works so differently yet so similarly

Anyways !

Through convoluted reasons peace happens somehow

Ming Fan calls Izuna a dumb bitch to his face maybe, idk that sounds like smthn hed do. But also like more politely bc they have different ways of speaking and SQQ probably gets on his ass about 'if you're going to insult someone do it in a way that reflects well on your own and the peaks teachings'

Actually I love that and now I need Ming Fan and Izuna cat fights

Actually I need Ming Fan and everyone cat fights, Izuna just gets the worse of it bc in my heart he is diva coded in a similar way to Ming Fan

Tobirama also bites back but hes too interested in the opportunity to study Ming Fan to risk being proper rude like he usually would to like, pretty much anyone else.

"Did this guy call me and my entire clan useless warmongers with the collective IQ of a tree stump? Yes. Do I want to cut him open to see if his organs match my own? Also yes. And my chances of getting to do this are very slightly raised by at minimum not pointing out that he has the attitude of if chihuahua got fucked by the worlds angriest hairless cat and spat out a human shaped baby."

Madara is NOT safe from the Ming Fan bitchfest but hes too busy happily drinking with Hashirama at the prospect of peace to give him his full attention, so he lets Izuna handle the cat fights

Hashirama meanwhile thinks hes kind of a tool but is also too busy happily drinking with Madara to really care, and is also the sort of guy to think that bitchy people are funny (as long as he isnt the one who has to deal with the consequences they bring) so honestly? Hes also having fun watching him and Izuna fight

Ummm stuff happens, peace is achieved, Konoha is developed and Ming Fan is in the thick of it bc he still needs Tobirama to send him home. He's kind of just,, there. Hanging out. Doesnt really have anything to do here, isnt particularly invested in this city building shit. As head disciple he has experience with things like management and the like, but nothing on this scale. He is however familiar with the concept of government-esq bodies overseeing superpowered people in societies equivalent to something close to a village. So that might come in handy, idk

But yeah, Ming Fan is just kind of hanging around, maybe he's brought in as a fresh pair of eyes / consultant

When it comes time to elect a Hokage, it's Madara vs Hashirama, with both of their younger brothers obviously backing their elder brothers.

Ming Fan, who has taken many, many missions across many different villages, countries, kingdoms and more, has seen this fucking story go down a million different ways. Better yet, he's seen this story go down a million different ways, often with SQQ hanging over his shoulder providing live commentary and a fucking insiders POV on the mechanics of this

The thing about Madara is that he is clearly respected by his clan, and feared by others. But he's not really,,, approachable.

Meanwhile Hashirama is the same, but he is approachable

And Izuna? Well, he has a real charm to him that his brother lacks. A charm that could realistically stand pretty well against Hashirama's own charm. He's popular, genuinley, among his own clan and surprisingly among some Senju as well. Whereas Madara was 'the force to be reckoned with' Izuna occupied a sort of middling space, always standing against Tobirama. Plus, hes easy on the eyes and can rock a pretty effective 'open and friendly smile.'

Not to mention he was the Uchiha's spy master, probably would go on to be Konoha's in the future, so he's a pro at managing people

Between Madara and Izuna, if you want an Uchiha to run for Hokage and win... wasn't Izuna clearly the better option?

Ming Fan brings this up to Izuna one day and he's actually kind of blindsided by this. The idea straight up never occurred to him, too used to being in the position to back his brother and raise him up to ever consider wanting the position Madara desired for himself.

He considers it for all of 3 seconds, a noticeable hesitation, before he laughs and shakes his head, saying that he would never steal his big brothers dreams like that. If he has the skills to win the Hokage position, he'd just use them to make sure Madara does instead

(Madara, overhearing their conversation from the hallway, retreats silently to think.)

A week later, and right before the intentions of Madara and Hashirama are announced to officially begin running for Hokage are announced, and a switch is made. A strangely quiet Madara switches out with Izuna at the last minute, a surprise to literally everyone but Ming Fan, who huffs approvingly

(This... has been his dream for so long. The village, his clan, safe and at peace. To be able to lead that would be... everything. But if his own baby brother would be more likely to be choosen for that over himself... At the very least, Madara wants to see an Uchiha with the hat.)

It's worth mentioning also that at this point, Ming Fan has a decent amount of influence on his own. Like, obviously, he's hanging out with the clan heads and heirs, he isnt contributing too much to the village, but he is contributing. He's pulling his weight, and he often spends time just kinda wandering around, talking to people, learning about this different world and the things it has to offer— different food, clothing styles, stories, the culture, just all of it

And that on its own is enough to endear him to plenty of people. Plus, as Konoha grows and more clans join in, he remains at its center sort of by default of having landed in that position from the start.

I think he's especially popular with more common people, bc he'll often be wandering around, just kinda exploring and all that, and if you complain to him theres a chance he might take that complaint all the way to the top, and your complaint (if its serious enough) might actually be dealt with. And as Konoha grows and more and more people clutter the information train, that's really fucking valuable!

All of that is to say that when Ming Fan makes a mostly careless comment in public about thinking Izuna would make a better Hokage, well, it's an endorsement from a well respected person. Who knows if it truly impacts the outcome, and god knows Ming Fan isn't like, actively campaigning for either of them—he probably doesn't care too much on who wins, finds them both agreeable enough as leaders (they both annoy him in different ways but at least with Izuna he's clearly grown begrudgingly fond of the back and forth they have)

So! It's an incredibly close race, but in the end Izuna wins, becoming the first Hokage

(His dramatic ass is absolutely on board with Hashirama's idea for a carved face in the mountainside, even as Tobirama, Madara and Ming Fan both physically cringe at the idea)

Ming Fan ends up being stuck there for a couple year, which is... annoying, but he's an immortal cultivator and has had much longer missions, so overall he's mild about his displeasure. Clear progress is being made by Tobirama, who is open about each new discovery he makes between Ming Fan and a normal mortal of this world

("To discover what made the hiraishin bring you here from another world entirely, we must first map out exactly what makes you and me so biologically different that the seal would react so strongly")

Anyways, Tobirama finally figures out how to fuck with the hiraishin enough to send Ming Fan back !! Yay, the day is saved and everyone is different levels of sorry to see him go, ranging from mildly fond to 'oh thank fucking gone, LEAVEEE ALREADYYYY' from the many, many people he's probably annoyed while here

Izuna and Ming Fan say goodbye and "Ill almost miss fighting with your bitch ass" in the weird language of insults they've developed, which to others just sounds like "dont go missing me too much, even tho youll never find someone else on my level to talk with again 💅"

Izuna gets one last jab in as Ming Fan is teleporting away but literally right as he's dissapearing Ming Fan gets one back in, making him officially holder of 'Got The Last Word' and this will piss off Izuna for the rest of all time

And so Ming Fan is safely returned hom— OH FUCK WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS WHERE IS HE NOW?? GODDAMIT TOBIRAMA

Yeah, so, Ming Fan is instead zapped some decades into the future, into Kakashi's genin days

I mean, congrats to Tobirama, he just invented time travel, so, thats cool

Ming Fan doesnt actually give a shit though because this is not what he was promised, Tobirama you useless hack—!

He was sent back from the battlefield where he appeared, something about eliminating the chances of the specific location being involved in the act of breaking through universes, and reappeared in that same place.

He pretty quickly makes his way over to Konoha via flying sword, easily dodging the many patrols in the area who are at pretty much full swing due to the fact that we're nearing the start of the second shinobi war.

(Sakumo has not yet been assigned that doomed mission of his but will be any day now)

Ok so. POV you're one of the guys guarding the gates of Konoha.

And out of seemingly nowhere this fucking GUY. Just. DESCENDS FROM THE SKY FROM THE BACK OF A SWORD. Immediately starts angrily yelling at you about demanding to know where Senju Tobirama, the fucking nidaime who died years ago, currently is. And that he needs to get his bitchy little quack doctor ass out here RIGHT FUCKING NOW and do what he GODDAMN PROMISED

As Im sure you can imagine, the gate guards. Do not react too well to this.

I think Ming Fan received a konoha headband, and he usually doesnt wear it unless he's like, going into battle and needs to be able to be identified by his allies. And he wasnt wearing it when he was ready to hop on home, so he takes it out now and kinda shoves it in their face like THERE LOOK IM ONE OF YOU NOW WHERE IS TOBIRAMA.

They might have tried to arrest him but he was rocking with that "do you know who I fucking am, let me speak to your manager RIGHT NOW. Who is your hokage is Izuna still in charge I will ask him to light your ass on fucking fire if you dont bring me to him 5 goddamn minutes ago" swag and, like, he was just so confident about it the gate guards didnt?? really know what to do?? HE SEEMS TO KNOW WHAT HES TALKING ABOUT GUYS AND THATS SCARY

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOULL ASK THE SHODAI HOKAGE TO (WHAT, RISE FROM HIS GRAVE?) TO GIVE US A SHAKING

(He wouldnt lmao, Izuna would probably have given them a gift basket for inconveniencing Ming Fan tbh. This fact however will never and has never stopped Ming Fan from using his name as a blunt force weapon against those who dont know better.)

So.

Ming Fan is brought to the Hokage.

DRUM ROLL PLEASE AS WE NOW INTRODUCE KONOHA'S SANDAIME HOKAGE IN THIS TIMELINE MING FAN HAS NOW LIGHTLY FUCKED UP,,,

KAGAMI UCHIHA !!!

Yeah so with Izuna as the first Hokage, the hat then went to Tobirama, who then passed it down to Kagami, who is currently looking at Sakumo as his possible successor

So, a very peeved Ming Fan is escorted to the Hokage's office. On his way over, he's taking note of the buildings and the clear passage of time. He looks at the mountain and finds 2 new faces besides Izuna's own annoying one, and catches wind of exactly what happened pretty fast.

Hopefully Tobirama isn't dead yet though, because oh man does Ming Fan have some words for him

(Ming Fan is annoyed to find his favorite little shop from before has been replaced by some stupid fuckin ramen restaurant. Ugh.)

Ming Fan finally arrives, and Kagami, who actually interacted with him more than a few times back in the day, does a fucking comedy spit take and blurts out, "Fan-dono?????"

Ming Fan does not recognize him at first and when he finally does, it's him going oh you're that hanger on brat who was always begging Tobirama to teach you.

Not. The most flattering take. But Kagami will take it.

So Kagami is like, Hokage now. But also he has memories of Ming Fan as both Tobirama's friend and also Izuna's friend and also just like. "Respected guy my mom told me to be good around."

So theres all sorts of things happening in his head rn on how to react to this situation

Ming Fan meanwhile has never interacted with a Hokage he wasnt allowed to call stupid to their face (to be fair Izuna would immediatley call him stupid back) so he is not giving Kagami the respect expected of like. Literally any ordanary shinobi to give him.

But he lucks out and gets a pass on it bc Kagami still has him slotted into the "sensei and Izuna-sama's respected friend" part of his brain that makes him feel like a kid again

(behind him, the ANBU squad does not like or agree with this turn of events. at all. who the FUCK are you to talk to the Hokage like this what the FUCK)

I think Danzo fucking despises Ming Fan, just because its funny. Ming Fan called him a nosey little brat one too many times as a kid and Danzo developed a childish grudge that he totally forgot about later in life— till he runs into Ming Fan again, years later, looking annoyingly exactly the same, and reawakens the rage of a slighted 12 year old

Sarutobi I dunno, I think hes somewhere between Kagami and Danzo on "this guy hits the buttons in my brain that make me feel like Im a kid being scolded by my sensei again" and also "holy shit FUCK this guy"

Anyways! Heres the thing:

When he left, Ming Fan absoloutley took some of Tobirama's research with him. It was probably some sort of exchange thing— way back when Ming Fan agreed to be a little science experiment in the first place, he probably made a deal of "yeah ok fine but I want every crumb of research you pull from me and I wanna take it home when I go"

Tobirama kinda shrugged and went "yeah fair enough, but were gonna have to agree on what kind of person is allowed to see some of it"

Shook on it, the end

So Ming Fan has this big ass thing of notes up his sleeve— filled with stuff about the differences between a shinobi and a cultivators bodies, some different fun notes Tobirama took while adapting some of Ming Fan's techniques to be used by chakra and vice versa w Ming Fan trying to use Tobirama's techniques with qi, notes on editing the hiraishin to try and get him home, etc.

Theres also probably just some other random stuff— mostly medical and jutsu / sealing guides, which Ming Fan traded information to bring home thinking the sect would benefit from it. If nothing else, his shizun will get a kick out of it

(oh boy would SQQ get a fucking kick out of seeing goddamn naruto lore written out in detail and refffered to as texts from another dimension)

^ so all of that is to say that Ming Fan has the traces of the seal to try to bring him back home, but he cant fucking use it himself bc he doesnt know how to preform the hiraishin, which is a major component of it

(and also part of why Tobirama let him take it to begin with, unconcerned of Ming Fan or someone else ever using it to come back bc they've already established his different biology somehow makes him physically unable of using the hiraishin)

So he just needs to find Tobirama again, or minimum someone who can use the hiraishin, and he can at least just try again. Maybe the last time sending him forward was a fluke? It probably only needs some minor tweaks, right? So just— get him Tobirama, and they'll sort it out

Learning Tobirama is dead, Ming Fan is,,, well, he was already prepared to say goodbye when he left the first time. And looking at the statues, Tobirama clearly lived an accomplished life. Same with Izuna— Ming Fan kind of resolves to just not think about it.

When he asks about Madara, Ming Fan is informed that a year after he left, Madara apparently turned traior and attacked the village. This is. A lot. For him to swallow.

Ming Fan has a moment of blaming himself for not having seen the darkness festering inside Madara, but brushes the feeling away. There was nothing he could have done, and he has been down the road of blaming himself for not catching a tell that hinted towards secret evil intentions one too many times during his missions to do it again here.

(Still, a complicated feeling rises in him. He'd spent years, at that point, by the founders side. To hear Madara had gone and tried to kill them all— If nothing else, Ming Fan had truly thought Madara loved his brother.)

BUT DO YOU KNOW WHO IS SOMEHOW ALIVE? FUCKING HASHIRAMA AND MITO !!!

Hashirama, having never become Hokage, was never poisoned! Instead he retired, now too old to fight even if he wanted to, and lives in the Senju compound with his aging wife and big family (including his granddaughter, Tsunade)

In the last few years, it's seems like he's become sick, only a few people allowed to visit him, and almost only senju. Very sad, he's expected to die any day now

SO !

Ming Fan hops over to the Senju compound, and though literally everybody expected he wouldn't be allowed to see him, Hashirama permits him to enter his rooms

(The list of those who can see Hashirama is as follows:

His wife

His children and grandchildren

The Hokage

and on one very memorable occasion, the current Uchiha clan head, Uchiha Hikaku)

Ming Fan being added to that list,, well, he may not realize it's weight, but its safe to say that once the fact gets out, it's enough to pretty instantly cement him as trustworthy to most of Konoha. Especially those in higher circles

So, Ming Fan goes to Hashirama's side, and Mito greets him. She explains that the Mokuton is as much as a curse as it is a blessing, and opens the door for Ming Fan to see exactly what she means.

For the past few years, Hashirama has been stuck in the process of turning into a tree.

There... isn't much more to say about that.

They had prepared a room for him to spread his roots in, open aired and protected by enough seals to blind a man if they attempted to look in. With grassy floors covered in wildflowers, and a small stream that Mito says they decorated with rocks from the Naka river.

Hashirama sits at the center of it all, more tree than man, asleep most days but having miraculously awoken just in time for Ming Fan's arrival.

Hashirama jokes that it must be fate, and Ming Fan, sobered in this moment, nods and says that his Shizun has often said that everyone is bound by the strings of fate. Whether they obeyed the strings was up to them, but so long as they walked, the strings would continue to guide them to the places they needed to be.

Hashirama laughs, and tells him that he half expected to be cursed out once he'd heard that Ming Fan had been stranded here by his brothers seal.

"Is that really how you wish for this reunion to go?" Ming Fan asks, and Hashirama only laughs again.

"I'd rather hear you curse my name than sit and suffer through you playing polite because you're too offput by this old mans condition to say what you're thinking."

Ming Fan sighs, laying on the grass and staring up at Hashirama's leaves and halfheartedly curses at Tobirama's name, lamenting his situation as Hashirama listens with a smile.

"You don't seem as distressed as I'd expected!" Hashirama notes, and Ming Fan only shrugs. "I'll figure it out, I'm sure."

"How uncharacteristically optimistic of you!"

"I suppose that's just you rubbing off on me then."

Hashirama and Ming Fan talk for quite a while, and it reminds Ming Fan of older nights, when Konoha was still young, before even the Hokage was elected. Nights occasionally spent drinking together, sometimes alone, sometimes with others— Tobirama, Izuna, Madara, Touka, Hikaku, an array of clan heads and heirs, people who've come to make a home, find some peace, and in that moment only share a drink.

To Ming Fan, it had only been a couple of years since those early days.

To Hahirama, it had been decades.

Ming Fan is invited to stay at the Senju compound for as long as he needs to find a way home.

When he stands, he turns to Hashirama, and offers a bow. Lower than any he's offered before, in this world.

"Thank you for your generosity."

Hashirama smiles, and accepts the gratitude for all that it means.

That night, Senju Hashirama falls asleep, and never wakes again.

SOOO ANYWAYS !!

Ming Fan is now staying with the Senju!! In this verse the family is a bit bigger than canon, due to Hashirama's continued survival throughout the years and how that impacted general Konoha politics. This is also before Tsunade left the village, with her little brother Nawaki still alive and Orochimaru's student (though much like Sakumo, their tragic fates are destined to happen any day now)

Through Ming Fan interference, both of these characters eventually avoid these fates, dont ask me how tho but just know that it happens, so.

Ming Fan has 2 goals!

Find someone who can preform the hiraishin!

Find someone who can alter the seals Tobirama used last in an attempt to get him home!

Luckily for Ming Fan, Mito knows just how to help in both of these cases! She can cover number 2, as Konoha's leading (and oldest) seal expert, and her darling grand-niece, Kushina, just so happens to be dating the only guy in the world who knows how to use the hiraishin, isn't that convenient?

With Mito agreeing to help alter the seal and someone to actually use it set in place, Ming Fan has nothing left to really do other than just,, wait.

The good news is that, since he brought Tobirama's research with him and the alterations shouldn't take nearly as much time as last time, it should only be a few months!

This is where we get Ming Fan once again fucking around the village, and how inevitable interferes with Nawaki and Sakumo's deaths

Maybe he's bored and goes with Nawaki on his mission? He's definitely interacting with him, they both live in the senju compound after all!

Nawaki idolizes his grandfather Hashirama, and Ming Fan is apparently a good friend of his!! So hes totally harassing Ming Fan to know more about that!

I think the "time travel" bit is kept secret from the public, just bc like, messyyyy, and Ming Fan's own involvment in early Konoha is pretty unknown in general just bc he was overshadowed by more relevant historical figures— plus its not like he had a clan to continue to remember him.

So very few people even know he existed, let alone that he's that same guy from history

Ummm Ming Fan and Sakumo friendship, I like to hc skaumo as being friends with the sanin so maybe hes around the Senju compound sometimes, idk

A panicked Sakumo is called in for a super last minute mission and tushes over to beg Tsunade to babysit only to realize shes also out, then somehow ropes Ming Fan into watching over Kakashi

Ming Fan ends up lightly making fun of Kakashi's use of chakra (his own pov of how to use chakra being heavily skewed due to experiments with Tobirama) and ends up being roped further into helping to train Kakashi using techniques, tips and tricks told to him by Tobirama

Ming Fan does NOT want to teach Kakashi, Kakashi is very much harassing him into doing it and Ming Fan is less teaching and more 'throwing techniques at him in the hopes hell go away only to find that Kakashi has figured out how to do it correctly on his own and wow thats really alarming actually'

I think Ming Fan would like Kakashi and also be a terrible fucking influence on him bc he is absolutely encouraging him to be as mean and bratty as possible (with other people)

Ming Fan is the kind of guy to teach his students to be evil under the table so they can get away with it, like, "ok so I heard you tried to sabotage someone. And Im really disappointed actually bc you chose such an obvious way and if you're going to sabotage someone at least dont do it in a way that will tie back to you, like, really" kind of energy

Minato receives Kakashi as a student around this time and has to beg Ming Fan to stop bc the things hes teaching Kakashi keep clashing with shit he's trying to teach him and also "did you really tell Kakashi to try and beat up Obito behind the ramen shop to establish dominance because he almost did and I can not express how bad this is for team moral"

Minato is STRESSED but unfortunately this is not Ming Fan's problem. Sorry. Do better.

Without Izuna around to shoot the shit with Ming Fan actually finds himself incredibly bored. He got used to having someone he can be catty around, now hes like. All bored. And maybe a little lonely.

LONELY? WHO SAID THAT? HES NOT LONELY WHAT THE FUCK SHUT UP !! YOU DONT KNOW WHAT YOURE TALKING ABOUT !!!!

He goes to the stupid ramen place that replaced his old favorite shop and discovers he does not like ramen.

This does not improve his mood.

He's fucking bored is the thing, which is why he decides to take missions. And how he ends up with surprisingly high clearance (due to being technically a founder)

And how he ends up on the same team as Sakumo for a very specific mission.

And how, when the mission goes wrong, he sends Sakumo home saying that he'll rescue their mission partners bc at least he's not stupidly recognizable the way Sakumo is.

And how Sakumo never falls from grace

And how just a week later, Sakumo is announced as Kagami's pick for the 4th Hokage.

Sakumo is very grateful towards Ming Fan for the mission thing, considers him to be a good man. He is a little bit blind to the awful fucking influence Ming Fan is on Kakashi, much to Minato's despair.

ANYWHOOO

some months pass and the seal is now complete! Minato is brought in and let in on the secret, and agrees to help!

(getting rid of ming fan? holy shit sign him up!!)

Ming Fan says his goodbies, Nawaki and Kakashi are especially sad to see him go while the adults are all different flavors ranging from "understanding but fondly sad to YES GO GO GET OUT GET OUT LEAVE ALREADY GO PLEASE THANK YOU GOODBYE"

Mito is in general amused at all the shit Ming Fan has managed to start while here, she's a fan of watching him fuck around from afar, eating popcorn

So.

Third times the charm, right? Right???

As Ming Fan immediately realizes, no, no it is not the charm.

Ming Fan reappears on the fucking eve of Konoha's destruction by Pain's hand.

Now. As already stated: I love Ming Fan "just a guy but not really" so much! I think he is decently powerful on his own, just overshadowed by the general cast of SVSSS, and I also think that these past few years hes spent here in naruto, sparring with people like the founders, participating in experiments with Tobirama to see how far qi can be pushed in contrast with chakra, learning new techniques and adapting to the different levels of ambient chakra and qi in this world— well, he's not ready to split skies or anything like that but its safe to say that Ming fan was, and now is even more pretty fucking strong.

All of that is to say Ming Fan may be more attached to Konoha than he realized bc when he sees it being destroyed it isn't just the anger of a righteous cultivator seeing innocents be attacked that's lit inside him, nah Ming Fan is about to throw the fuck down

(It takes him not even a second to affix the konoha headband to his belt before he jumps into the fray)

So! Lets take a peek at the Hokage time line in Ming Fan's absence!

Kannabi bridge went unfortunately similar to canon, and Obito fell into Madara's hands.

With Sakumo still alive at the time, Kakashi was able to recover from this without the major personality shift, and due to a combination of Sakumo and Ming Fan's additional training, when it was Rin's turn on the chopping block, she instead survived and now continues to live as the Konoha's second jinchuriki

Obito attacked Konoha with the intention of releasing the kyuubi, and at the time Kushina and Minato were in the Senju compound for the birth

Mito got in his way, delaying him long enough for Sakumo to also arrive

In the fight, both Mito and Sakumo died (fucking thanks, Obito. I dont think Kakashi's gonna be able to forgive u for that one this time around) but Kushina and Minato survived, and Naruto was born healthy and without the fox sealed into him

Kakashi is understandable devastated, and as recovery efforts begin, he's taken in by Minato and Kushina. He offers little fight against this.

With Sakumo's death, Kagami was once again appointed as the Hokage. After only a year or two of stabilizing Konoha + preparing his successor, he quickly gives Minato the hat, and retreats once again to retirement.

Minato makes Kakashi and Rin both ANBU, expressing his desire to have them by his side (at least this time they're slightly older, with Kakashi at 15 and Rin at 17) and puts them on home guard, specifically as Naruto's ANBU guards. It's an easy job, and helps Kakashi in particular to heal some, even if he gets even more rigid about things like rules and formalities

With Izuna as the first Hokage and Kagami as the third (and technical 5th) Uchiha-village relations were actually very good! Thanks to this, the Uchiha massacre was avoided entirely

Kakashi is raised pretty much as Naruto's very protective older brother, with Rin in a similar boat but she still has her own family so there isnt quite so much trauma fueled dependency from her end.

Naruto grows up to be alarmingly talented, with Kakashi and Rin tutoring him, and Minato and Kushina obviously doing their best (though Minato remains mostly busy due to the unfortunate realities of being a Hokage. Meanwhile Naruto is absolutely a total mommas boy)

Kakashi and Rin end up actually fighting over who gets to be Naruto's sensei (Naruto wants NEITHER OF THEM!!!!! HES A BIG BOY NOW STOP CODDLING HIM!!!!!)

Canon then proceeds mostly the same, though with some very obvious major changes

Somewhere along the way, Itachi is convinced to ditch Konoha even without the massacre, and later down the like Sasuke also follows suit to investigate what happened with his brother— though this time he leaves with orders from Minato to go undercover, and investigate Sound

(fucking THANKS dad!! -Naruto, probably, when he finds this out)

COOL! SO! WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY!

Ming Fan fucking bodies Pain right before he kills Kakashi. (Sorry Kakashi, no fireside chat with your father for you)

Now, Ming Fan had a pretty lasting effect on Kakashi's life overall, but he was only around for like, idk, half a year maybe. And Kakashi was young during the time, so his memories of the man remain very blurry and overall half forgotten.

So Kakashi doesn't recognize him immediately— Though from Ming Fan's side, he's immediately mistaking him for Sakumo, then realizing no, wait it isn't him, doing the mental math and making an educated guess that this has to be Kakashi then.

But that doesnt matter rn bc it is THROW DOWN OCLOCK !!!!!

The overall battle goes mostly according to canon but w less casualties since Ming Fan joins in, but then Naruto does his talk no jutsu or however that goes, Pain agrees to revive everyone, boom there done.

So tbh my knowledge of Naruto gets HELLA blurry from here on out, so we're gonna keep it vague, but, like, MING FAN IS HERE AGAIN YAYYYYY

Unfortunately p much everyone who could have instantly recognized him is fucking dead now. Kagami, Danzo and Hiruzen got picked off in previous battles or smthn, Mito and Sakumo are fucking dead, the kids who grew attached to him were too young and the time they knew him too short to really remember,

BUT.

Despite literally only being around for like, 6 months. Ming Fan succeeded at being so annoying that Minato never fucking forgot his face <3

(also there are probably some Uchiha around w sharingan memories of him)

So Minato sees this guy and goes through all the stages of grief at once. Meanwhile Ming Fan is seeing the hat and raising his eyebrows and going no way Sakumo chose THIS bitch boy for the job.

Meanwhile Naruto is standing direcly next to Minato going DAD WHOS THIS WHO IS THAT DAD HEY DAD HEY DAD WHO IS THAT DAD—

(Listen this is a hard day for everyone. Minato included. But this. This. He could just. Really use a fucking break. Thanks.)

But anyways Ming Fan is here and even if he got the option to go home, like, right now, he honestly probably wouldnt take it bc now hes kind of pissed. What do you MEAN Konoha is under attack? What do you MEAN some masked figure killed Sakumo years ago and now is back and also claiming to be Madara Uchiha and theyre trying to fucking kill everyone??

So yeah he's on board to fight, Konoha headband equipped to his belt, he's ready to stick around some more before he tries to go home again.

(and then someone gasps theatrically at Pain's eyes and goes "omg the rinnegan,, the mystical eyes said to be able to traverse time and space,,," and Ming Fan goes WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY THOSE EYES CAN DO")

But also Pain is dead now. So.

(Distant Sasuke, who is still following the beats of his canon story but just undercover under Minato's orders now noises)

So like Ming Fan sticks around, battles happen, we get Kakashi and an older Nawaki remembering him. Nawaki falls back a bit into his old view of thinking Ming Fan is just the coolest, but meanwhile Kakashi kind of takes on the role Izuna used to have, and now him and Ming Fan are having little cat fights in the bg

(With Sakumo having lived so much longer + having been able to comfort his son after Obito's death, the lack of Rin, Minato, and Kushina's death, and just in general all the little things stacking up in a different way than before, Kakashi avoided his major personality shift and is a lot closer to being the strict, bratty kid he used to be than the lazy, perpetually late slack off we know and love in canon)

anyways, blah blah blah, stuff happens, lots of battles, drama, oh my,

Finally we get to the Hokage's being revived for the final battle.

For whatever reason, Ming Fan was occupied somewhere else, possibly getting wrapped up in Sasuke's shit, when they were brought back.

So like.

POV he enters the battlefield, intending to face off with Madara. Then just.

Tobirama, distantly across the battlefield: ᵒʰ ˢʰᶦᵗ ⁿᵒ ʷᵃʸ

Ming Fan, who can hear him just fine bc cultivator: OH SHIT YES WAY YOU USELESS HACK

Ming Fan spends way too much time shouting at Tobirama when he should be FIGHTING GET BACK TO WORK MING FAN

I need a Ming Fan > Izuna > Kakashi bitch fest where they all just fucking snip at each other actually, I think it'd be funny

Ming Fan probably winds up yelling at Madara too, who did not expect to see him here

"Didn't the Senju send you home??"

"Didn't you die after making a fool of yourself in front of all of Konoha??"

Ming Fan doesnt use chakra so he's able to help back up Gai in his fight against Madara, and Gai is able to leave the battle not crippled for life, which is nice

Kaguya descends, things happen, the fight is won and the day is saved, and the fighting finally comes to an end

Sasuke somehow manage to end up with the rinnegan, and instead of trying to use the hiraishan for the third fucking time, Sasuke agrees to try and instead use it (and Ming Fan's qi) as a homing beacon to try and find his original dimension w the rinnegan! Much more reliable method

And so, for the final time, Ming Fan says his goodbyes.

It's,,, an event.

The old hokage's, including Sakumo, are still around with the power of edo tensei, and he's able to give his goodbyes to them all once again, one by one.

Tobirama gives only a brief apology for the seal not working as it should before dissolving into mumbled theories of what might have gone wrong— then remembers himself and shakes his head, offering a curt goodbye

Izuna scoffs and says that at this rate, he expects to see Ming Fan again in a couple decades when the next chakra goddess tries to explode the world and the living are forced to once again turn to him for help💅

Ming Fan tells him to shut the fuck up, and if it happens then he'll just look forward to getting another opportunity to call him a fool to his face, instead of to a grave.

Izuna laughs, and waves him away

Kagami doesn't have too much to say, but thanks Ming Fan for his help. "You may be from another world, but you are just as much of a konoha man as any of us."

Ming Fan... chooses not to take this as an insult. Instead, he nods his head, and gives Kagami the full respect a Hokage would ordinarily deserve, for quite possibly the first time.

Sakumo, he finds holding his son as Kakashi clings to his shoulder. Ming Fan watches for a moment, and Sakumo catches his eye. He gives him a big, genuine smile, mouths thank you, and bows his head.

They already said their goodbyes once, and Ming Fan doesn't wish to take any of the time he has left away from his son. He nods back, and continues.

Minato, when he finds him, is hiding out on the battlefield, laying down with an arm covering his eyes. He groans, when he sees Ming Fan, but sits up.

"Don't despair, you'll finally be getting rid of me." Ming Fan sighs, and Minato snorts.

Minato is... Well, he's a lot more fond of Ming Fan than he once was. Even if the man is still a giant pain in the ass. They speak for a bit, Ming Fan advises him to go ahead and retire already, god knows its what his son would want, and Minato stares up at the sky.

"At this point? I really should have ages ago."

Minato shakes himself, and finally stands, offering a hand to Ming Fan.

Ming Fan clasps his risks, and they nod to each other, probably more civil than they ever have been before.

"Fighting with you has been.... a wonder." Minato seemed to settle on, and Ming Fan arched a brow.

"Not an honor?"

"I think we both know the answer to that."

Ming Fan rolled his eyes, but still smirked.

"Likewise. Take care of your family."

"May you finally return to yours."

And with that, they part ways.

He's walking back to Sasuke, when those who had been edo tenseid fade away. He's just in time to see Kakashi, back turned, as he watches his father go for one final time.

When he turns, he catches his eye. Eyes, plural, as it seems Obito had left him with quite the gift.

Kakashi nods to him, seeming still overwhelmed with his fathers departure, and not quite sure what else to say to Ming Fan.

It's a stark cry from their first goodbye, Kakashi so far from the young boy who once clung to Ming Fan's leg, huffing about him not being allowed to leave till he taught him just a little bit more.

It's Ming Fan, who takes the steps towards the man.

"I'm glad my lessons were ever of any use to you. You've certainly made better use of them than I ever could have imagined." He says, and when Kakashi goes just a touch red under his mask, Ming Fan thinks he might understand what Shizun was talking about, when he laments about the cuteness of his students even once grown.

"WHAT? Are you seriously gonna go, just like that?"

It's Naruto, who's apparently caught wind of Ming Fan planning to leave sooner rather than later.

"No way am I letting you leave with the bastard before he's given me an explanation!" Naruto grabs Sasuke, who with the pained face of someone who knows they're about to get what they deserve, just sort of lets it happen.

"You gotta stay for at least the celebration! We finally won, it's time to party!"

(Ming Fan laughs, and he decides that just for a bit longer— Just a night more, he will stay)

.

.

.

It has been one year to the day, since Shen Qingqiu's head disciple disappeared.

The exact allowance of a disciple to vanish, before you must consider declaring them dead.

Shen Qingqiu...

Doesn't like to talk about it. Binghe seems to realize he can only comfort him so much for this fact, and today has taken to giving him a bit of space, which he appreciates.

It's for this reason, when a swirl appears in his bamboo hut, depositing two men, that Shen Quingqiu is alone.

"Shizun, this disciple is reporting his absence for these last 6 years. I apologize for my lateness." Ming Fan cries, falling to his knees and bowing his head.

Shen Quingqiu is on his feet in an instant, reaching towards his disciple, already having to suppress the cry rising up in his throat as he falls to his own knees, taking Ming Fan's hands in his own.

"Ming Fan will not apologize for thing out of his own control, this one is overjoyed to see you home."

The man behind his disciple shifts, and Ming Fan gestures towards him.

"This Uchiha Sasuke has assisted in bringing me—"

Wait WHAT.

Fuckin. Lugh track. Roll credits. Idk. Boom. Done. Theres ur au. Fuck how did this end up being so long

[kaiser1ns]

#. LIKE A BOY IN LUV

featuring 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff + slight angst + slight suggestive. welcome to the top 10 moments in your relationship with the one and only yamato!

word count :: 3,4 k. he may be a little bit ooc but we all love him anyway

DATING ENDO YAMATO is its own category of experience. You wanted a boyfriend, but instead, you got a loyal, loving, wild man who's always by your side with open arms, gift bags, and tons of surprises because he's unpredictable and you never know what he's thinking and what he's going to do.

"You remind me of Alice in Wonderland." walking in the park enjoying the pleasant night air when he spoke squeezing your hand and making you turn your gaze to him. He was smiling, what he was saying clearly really mattered, even if it came out of nowhere. "And I'm the Chesire Cat. I'm always there for you, even when I'm not." Now that you thought about it, he really did resemble the fantasy character. A grinning cat who teaches Alice "the rules" of Wonderland — him teaching you how the delinquent world works. Sarcastic and playful, he can appear and disappear in any location. He is quick to play jokes on others, he is mad, but unlike the others, he admits it with pride. But despite that he is giving you advice on which path to take during your journey called life, practically acting as your wise guide to the point where you're overly joyous to see him every time.

HIS KISSES ARE ALWAYS surprising and unexpected. One day he will kiss you like there's no tomorrow, fast but smooth because he can't get enough of you, the flavor of your lipstick is long gone when you feel his lips making rough motions, a little biting on your lower lip. His hands can't find a place on your body, but you are still as close as ever. He smiles into every kiss, and you can feel it, you can feel his love.

But there are occasions when he takes his time with you. There is no rush or insatiability, only you and him under the dim lights. Slowly, everything is so slow that it makes you dizzy. He kisses you everywhere starting from your face, and then your lips are doing a slow dance, so captivating that they make you want more of him. Your hands play with his hair and his holding you tight on your waist, giving it a light squeeze once in a while, because this is where you are supposed to be. Every part you are insecure about, he will kiss it. Every beauty mark or scar you don't seem to adore, he will kiss it. He will take all of your insecurities and pain away just by worshiping you — you are a Goddess and should be treated as such. Loving someone, and devoting yourself to them takes time, but for him, time has stopped and only you exist in that moment. Only you are important and he will show how deeply he has fallen for you.

HE IS OBSESSED WITH YOU to the point where there was no way out, and you liked that, seeing someone go out of their way to make sure you were okay. But that didn't mean you didn't give him anything in return. Often your dates were outside, whether in a coffee shop, a mall, or an arcade, and every time he paid, it made you uncomfortable and guilty. There was no need for him to pay for everything, but he insisted that you keep your money. And so you saved every bill and penny to give him the perfect birthday surprise when he gets home. 

You planned this for months, knowing exactly what would make him happiest. dolling yourself up, every detail perfect, every thought just for him. The apartment was dark, lit only by the soft glow of candles and the path of rose petals leading to you. You stood there, holding the cake with his favorite flavor, your lips curved into a smile so genuine and full of love that it lit up the room brighter than any candle.

When he opened the front door, his eyes widened in shock, then softened in pure affection. He followed the path slowly, taking in every petal, every flicker of the candles, but mostly he took in you. “Happy birthday, my love!” you whispered, your voice a melody just for him. For a moment, he was speechless. no words could convey the overwhelming emotions flooding through him. Your home was transformed, but you were the true gift. He couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes — tears of pure joy. He wasn’t Endo Yamato, the prodigy, or the man who carried the world for others. He was just your Yamato, your boyfriend who deserved to be loved so deeply and sincerely.

Without saying a word, he gently set the cake aside and pulled you into a tight embrace, kissing you with all the love he had to offer. “You are the best gift in my life.”

ENDO YAMATO TAKES YOU TO A POOL HALL at least a few times a month and you still haven't learned how to play. But it didn't matter to him as long as he spent time with you and now it was your turn, he was leading you with the points, of course. "Come on, sweets. you can do it." Easy to say, but hard to achieve. You bent down and set the cue, the angle was perfect and you just had to hit the white ball using moderate force. Yes, but no. The white ball went in instead of the colored one and you heard your boyfriend laugh.

"Let me help you then.” He came up behind you, his body touching yours as he placed his hands on top of yours, caging you in his strong arms. You swallowed hard too, not that you weren't used to physical contact with him but it just felt different now. "It's simple, doll. You just have to aim well and hold the pole firmly, but not too hard. And then–” and your ball went into the pocket, but only because he controlled your movements. “You score!” he pulled away from you but you could still feel his warmth. "No matter how hard I try I can't…” but that's okay because no matter if you can or not, he is always the winner, but you won his heart. Fair enough, right?

EVEN A SECOND WHERE HE hasn't seen you, heard you or doesn't know where you are will drive him crazy, and at the moment you were neither picking up your phone nor answering his messages and he was expressing emotions he didn't know he had. Your boyfriend had a lot of trust in you, he never had doubts for a second but when you come home drunk, you don't know where you are, your hair is messy, your makeup is smudged and you can barely walk on those heels. He couldn't help thinking of something he shouldn't. You hiccuped as you tried to take them off and even though he was feeling a thousand new emotions of anger he still helped you up and left you lying on the couch. “Yamato~ I missed you!” if you didn't smell like someone else's perfume he would tell you the same thing. Endo poured water for you and there were pills on the side in case you got sick as he sat next to you but not as close as usual. 

“You were with someone else?” you couldn't even understand the question, you couldn't understand what situation you were in right now, and that smile of his was gone. Rubbing hands over your eyes, you stood up from a lying position. "I was with my girl friends. I told you a few days ago.” 

You groaned, trying to sit up, but the room spun in all directions, the lights seemed too bright, his voice too loud. "Yamato... I told you," you muttered, fumbling with your words. His usual cheerfulness was replaced by something you hadn't seen before—jealousy, frustration, anger? It didn't feel like him. "I was with my friends... and their cousin drove us home. He was just looking out for us. That's it. Nothing else," you repeated, blinking up at him, trying to steady your thoughts through the alcohol haze.

He wasn't convinced. Crossing his arms, tapping his feet, glancing at your phone—dead and useless. "Convenient, isn't it? You come home smelling like some guy, looking like you’ve been out all night doing God knows what, and your phone is dead. How am I supposed to believe you when all I see is the opposite?"

You winced at the accusation, your heart pounding harder now from more than just the headache. "Yamato, you know me. I wouldn’t—"

"Do I?" he interrupted, voice harsher than ever before. "Because right now, I think I judged you too fast from the start." His words cut deeper than anything you'd ever imagined he could say. He never doubted you, never questioned your loyalty, and now? 

Tears blur your vision as exhaustion overwhelms you. "I don't care if you believe me or not right now. Go crash at your place or Takiishi's, clear your head, do whatever. I just... I can't do this now." You tried standing, wobbling slightly as you grabbed the doorknob on the front door, holding yourself steady. “If I'm such a person to you, then why are you still here?”

Endo stared at you, his anger softening into something that looked like regret, but he didn’t need another push. You looked and were sure in what you said, and he started something he couldn't finish. Grabbing his shoes, he stormed out as you slammed the door so hard, that the whole apartment seemed to shake—but nothing compared to the ache in your chest. Crumbled to the floor, sobbing, it was clear: the person you loved most had just hurt you in a way you never imagined

ARGUMENTS WITH ENDO YAMATO are bad, and by that, I mean really bad. You blocked him in every social media app, and his number because you don't want to see or hear him. Even blocked him on Roblox and unfriended him in any game you both played. You just need rest to gain your composure, to focus on your mentality, and not have him suffocating you with his obsessive tendencies. It doesn't get any better when you suddenly receive an email from ilovelnynsomuch202839@gmail.com with the title "i miss you, please don't be mad." with a written roman in the text field saying how sorry he is, how he will make sure not to do that anymore and how much he loves you and if you can open the door because he is freezing. 

You can't believe this man and how he will do everything to be with you. Your eyes widen as you go to the window of your apartment and see him there, wearing only a top and jeans, for all his outer garments are in your wardrobe, and you are wearing one, despite saying you hate him. But he will withstand the cold, he always withstands absolutely anything, and to be away from you seemed like torture. You felt another vibration from your phone and it was him again, sending you another email. "i know you see me and i'll sit here as long as it takes♡"

He has no idea the way he makes you feel, you still let him in your heart, and in your home after two hours of him sitting on the bench and when you go to open the door for him, he is hugging you tight, he will never let you go, never make you mad again.

THE TYPE OF BOYFRIEND WHO DOES TIKTOK TRENDS with you, will it be dancing, putting a finger down, or when his whole face is covered in red prints from your lips and lipstick. Almost everything is done. He liked the new trend, especially the song, and part that was on every edit that came out on the for you page. According to him, it perfectly described your relationship and how not to take a video of you fixing yourself in the bathroom mirror putting on some make-up while he was behind you, phone in hand, and the music playing.

“Back to the kitty, 'cause she's kinda pretty. I couldn't stop lookin’ at her ta-ta-ta…” he panned the camera and you saw his reflection moving the phone to your chest and then to your face after you were done with the lipstick and he smiled in the mirror. “Face.” You didn't pay much attention to him, not when you were doing the same thing when there was trendy couple stuff. Flipping the front camera around and quickly set up the phone on the counter as he then quickly walked behind you again and wrapped his arms around your waist, his tattoos on full display as your hands were on his.

“Me and cat mama rolled into the distant fog,” he was looking straight into the mirror where your eyes met and he just smirked, kissing your neck and then looking down at the camera, gently squeezing your torso before the last line came out from the phone.

“Little did she know I'ma nasty dog.” his hands went up to grab your chin and turn your face to his so he could kiss you. The clip was done and you didn't know how many times the audio would repeat, but he wasn't done at all. He held you tight, and he didn't stop, and you were out of breath but your hands went to his chest and pushed him to get the hint. You both couldn't catch your breath because you just had a little make-out session in the bathroom. He went to turn the phone off before saving the video and looking back at you. “Want to ditch the others and continue in the be–?” 

“Yes.” you didn't have to think so much, you were categorical and so was he. Noroshi can have fun themselves fighting people left and right while your boyfriend will show you a different type of fun.

BEING HIS GIRLFRIEND MEANT THAT you are used to hanging out with Takiishi Chika a lot too. You were at the mall, purchase after purchase but you two didn't hold any bags, Endo held everything, and even when you wanted to get something he insisted that a princess like you should hold nothing but a pretty smile on her face. The redhead didn't even look back, he didn't care but you did. “Chika, stop." for some reason he listened to you, maybe it was because you had known each other since childhood and had a great influence on him. It might not matter that much to him, but thanks to him, you met Endo and more or less he had to be nice to him. 

You went to get some bags from Endo, giving them to Takiishi who hadn't reached his hand out at all. At first, the two of you made eye contact, your eyes more insistent than his as he looked away, losing this fight as he took the bags from your hands and you smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Chika.” Turning to your boyfriend who was stunned at how you got none other than Takiishi Chika to carry his own shopping bags. He blushed and laughed a little at this heroic deed of yours. He didn't know how you even did it, how you had such a huge influence over the two of them, especially him. One of his hands was now free and you grabbed it as you started to walk forward. “What a woman you are. Please, teach me your ways.”

HIM HAVING TATTOOS MEANS ONLY ONE THING and that is you can turn him into a coloring book. Sitting on his lap, his arms outstretched and you were creating art – pink, purple, blue, whatever markers and eye shadows were on his buffy arms. You were very focused on making his scorpion tattoo shine, literally because you put pink glitter on it and drew a cute little face. "My nose itches." looking up at the ceiling, wiggling his nose as you carefully made a ribbon on the scorpion's tail, "You have to wait, baby." Of course, he had to wait for the good things, and art is a slow and painstaking process in which the artist shows and expresses their emotions in the paintings. He let out a soft sigh, knowing he had no choice but to endure it if he wanted to keep you happy. His body was a canvas that you could look at all day, it was so intoxicating, he had chosen interesting designs, and how he arranged them ... just beautiful.

“Isn’t it the palette you just bought?” The compass tattoo on his right hand now gleamed with bright colors, and the flames were reddish and fiery, as they reflected your burning love for him. “Yes. Now let me focus, please.” You smiled as you turned the star on his middle finger into a vibrant one with cute eyes, straight out of Super Mario. For the grand finale, you applied some eye shadow to the infinity symbol tattoo on his neck, turning it into a delicate pink bow. "Go look at yourself in the mirror!" you quickly got up from his lap, gently taking his hand with yours so as not to smudge anything.

"It's like a unicorn threw up on me," he grinned, running a finger over his colorful scorpion. He turned slightly to the side to see his back, the Frank tattoo he had with Takiishi was colored in pretty blue hues. "Cute." He gave you a quick peck. Maybe he should let you do this more often—it definitely made you happy.

ENDO YAMATO LOVED TO ANNOY YOU as much as he loved to make you happy. No matter where or when he nagged at you every second you ignored him – maybe because you wanted to take a nap on this lovely afternoon after a stressful and busy day. To have some peace and quiet, but no, someone decided to give you light pokes on the butt, making you let out a heavy sigh. You were almost close to drifting off into the world of dreams, you were so snuggly wrapped up in the blanket, cuddling with the stuffed toy, until someone named Endo Yamato decided it was a good idea to wake you up. "Stop it. Either go to sleep or go annoy Chika." But the touches didn't stop even when you turned on your other side, you mumbled something, it sounded a little like you were screaming into your pillow. You stood up angrily and threw the stuffed toy and pillow at him. "Leave me alone!"

"It will never happen, not even in your dreams." it was your last drop of patience, the last string you could pull as you pushed him off the bed with all your might and he fell on the ground with a loud thud, "Stay down in Hell." Wrapping yourself in the blanket again, and though your pillow was on the ground with him, his was still on the bed, and by the time you placed it under your head, Endo, with all his weight and insolence, lay on top of you. You started banging your hand on the mattress like a time-out because you couldn't breathe. He rose as you gasped and quickly flipped him over, straddling him with your legs as he held your wrists. “Yamato, I will kill you in every possible way.” "Don't, I'm going to like it." that nasty lovely smile on his dumb-looking handsome face, you just wanted to wipe it off and when you realized the position you were in, your nerves just couldn't take it. How can he annoy you and want extra attention only when you are sleepy? You immediately stood up but his arms pulled you down laying on his chest and his heart was beating like crazy because he had fallen madly for you…or in this case, you fell for him. Your breathing started to calm, your eyes closing, his fingers playing with your hair making you relax as much as possible "I love you, you know…" he whispered, wrapping his arms around you and leaving a kiss on your forehead. "I know."

Snuggling into him, but how much more as you were already a part of him, forever and always. "But you'll still be sleeping on the couch." he only hummed in response, slowly drifting to sleep but he knew your love was better than any dream because you were his entire world, the one that made him, the hopeless boy, experience something real.

taglist :: @maruflix @heartkaji @17020 @stunie @kazuhaiku @meidiary @nyxypoo @mydream-synopsis @slerixx

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[emptyultimatum]

GOOD GIRL

Avenger Loki x gender neutral!reader In which Loki changes things up a little

~ SMUT!! [ fingering, praise, light breast play, light oral, references to vaginal s3x ]

~ TW!! [ character injury but mild ]

I meant it as a joke, you thought to yourself, half ruefully, half gleefully. But as the quivering, spread legs before you revealed a dripping, fluttering cunt, you could hardly call your thoughts regret. 

It all started with the mission. Twenty-four escaped convicts, an easy night out for the Avengers. Technically, it was below Avenger status (not exactly world-saving, after all), but Tony was trying to make a good impression on the U.S. government, so the superhuman heroes spent a lot of time running errands for the White House. You and Peter were on it, an easy fix. Honestly, either one of you could’ve done it alone. 

You went left, Spider-Man went right. There were supposed to be an even split, but the numbers changed too quickly to communicate. You soared over the frigid treetops, angel wings beating the air, when a harpoon speared through your feathers. You crashed to the ground, keening with pain. 

Six criminals got away. Peter handled the other eighteen, but the damage was done. They sent Vision after the last six and helicoptered the two of them back to Stark Towers. 

Loki, as one can imagine, was distraught. 

“What happened? Parker, who did this to her? She needs medical assistance—”

“What do you think I’m trying to do, Curlicues?” Tony Stark gestured to the corner with his chin. “Go over there and sit like a good girl.”

An unfamiliarly dangerous spark lit Loki’s features. You cocked your head curiously through the pain, but Tony blew him a kiss. Loki hissed through his teeth, but backed off, letting Tony scan your gaping wound.

“You know, I always wondered if these things were illusions,” Tony mused, tapping on his holographic screens. “They appear out of nowhere, it doesn’t make sense, unless—” 

“Pocket dimension,” you gritted, as Bruce Banner and Tony snapped their fingers in unison. 

“That does make sense,” Bruce said brightly.

A red syringe-shaped arm popped out of the side of the medical bed. It blasted freezing nanoparticles over the gash in your wing, then retracted. Enhanced healing patches were placed over the bruises and road rash along your arm and thighs, and Tony gave you a jar of skin-repair salve for later. A few adrenaline injections to the arm later, and you were feeling much better. 

“Can I see my boyfriend now? He might tear a hole through all nine realms if you don’t let him check on me,” you rolled your eyes, beckoning Loki over. 

He pushed past Tony, elbowing him out of the way. “Darling, are you okay?”

“You’re welcome,” Stark said. “No problem. I’ll just go over here and lick my ass, I guess.”

“Yes, do that,” Loki muttered. Tony winked at him, deadpan. 

“I’m much better,” you reassured him, flexing the wing and drawing his attention. “I heal quickly, remember? The worst was the pain, but it won’t linger.” 

“Good. Then let’s get to your bed. You need rest.” Loki scooped you up. The world wavered in a flash of green, blinding and strong, and suddenly they were back in their old, cozy room. A sweater lay, forgotten, on a chair. A few snack wrappers and… other kinds of wrappers lay scattered about the floor. 

“Oh it’s a mess,” you smacked your forehead. “Good thing they healed me in the med bay and not here.”  “I’ll clean it up, don’t worry,” he assured you, his eyes sincere. “Just take it easy, dearest.” 

“What’s got you all worried, Lo?” you laughed, cupping his cheek. “I’m fine. I’ve been hurt worse before.” 

“Yes, but that was before we were together. Additionally, I fear I’m facing some… insecurity, as it were.” He glanced away, cheeks pinking. 

“Insecurity? About what?” 

“I- nothing. It’s no matter. We shall discuss later,” he brushed you off, standing. “Please, let me clean for you.” 

You grinned up at him. “If you say so. Thanks for cleaning for me, Loki. You’re such a good girl.” 

You put a growl on it, a low, sultry purr. The tone of voice you usually said good boy or beg for me in. You meant it as a joke, a demeaning one, a call back to Tony’s patronizing snub. 

Instead, you saw something liquify in Loki’s eyes. That same look he got when his cock was in your hands, or your teeth were sinking into his skin. 

And being yourself, you capitalized on it. 

“Do you like that?” you cooed, arching an eyebrow. “Do you want to be my pretty girl, Loki? My good little obedient princess?”

Oh, you had him cornered. His bottom lip trembled with thinly held control, his eyes darting back and forth, warring with himself. 

You reached up, pulling him back down, so that he kneeled before you. You locked his gaze with your own. 

“If you want to be my good girl,” you said gently, “You can.”

Loki shuddered, and slowly, his shoulders began to slough down and round off. His frame turned slighter, more slender, and his chest swelled. He was daintier, but still with the shoulder-length choppy hair and wild silver eyes. He was no he at all. She was Loki. A tall, wiry, masc Loki, with a dripping mess between her legs. 

Loki whimpered as you laughed aloud, running your hands through that silky black hair. “Oh, you pretty girl, so many tricks up your sleeve! Why don’t you strip for me, so we can see what pretty trick you have up your pants.”

You had never seen Loki undress so quickly. 

And so, here you were, Loki breathless and growling beneath you, your fingers sliding into Loki’s slippery, throbbing mess. You curled your fingers acutely, and Loki bucked up into your hand. 

“Naughty,” you cooed. “Bad girls don’t get to cum. Stay still.”

“Please, love,” Loki begged, her cheeks flushed red. “Please let me cum.” 

“Behave,” you scolded. “And maybe I’ll consider it.” 

Loki let out the prettiest keening sound you’d ever heard. You giggled, leaning forward, wrapping your lips around Loki’s pulsating clit. You sucked, hard, and she moaned again, her legs clamping around your head.

“Is this the insecurity you were dealing with, pet?” you asked, stroking the pad of your thumb over Loki’s sensitive, aching clit. “Were you lost?” 

She nodded, eyes screwed shut with pleasure and humiliation. “I wasn’t sure how you’d —fuck— react.” 

You smiled, running your hand flat up her belly, cupping a tender breast, and squeezing. “Pretty girl. I’d never want you to be anything less than yourself.” 

Her eyes opened, beautiful and silver as always. Loki smiled up at you, holding your hand over her breast. “Sweet love,” she murmured. 

“Besides,” you gave her a sharklike smile. “Now I get to fuck you. Spread your legs.” 

With a whimper, she complied. 

[cxrdycxps]

Pretty Hurts • Ellie Williams

☢️ female reader • lesbian reader (it’s well defined) • canon typical violence • sexual assault • mean!ellie can’t deal with feelings • victim shaming • strap on sex • Ellie’s also mean in bed • recreational drug use ☢️

Main Masterlist • Ellie Williams Masterlist

“Jesse! Hey, Jesse.” You chased your friend up the street, almost running into him when he stopped suddenly. He looked you up and down, eyes narrowed. It had been unseasonably warm today but he was sure you were pushing it.

“What’s got you all dressed up, Princess?” Jesse asked and you looked down at your outfit like you needed a reminder of what you were wearing. “Or dressed down, I guess?”

“You think it’s hot?” You asked him and he blanched, looking over his shoulder as if Dina would appear out of nowhere to hear the conversation. “Not for you obviously.”

Jesse would admit there was a certain allure to it. He would admit that on his death bed where a very jealous Dina wouldn’t be able to strangle him for it.

You had your usual cowboy boots on that you wore year round. You had been heartbroken when you busted your last pair beyond repair while on patrol one day. Ellie had saved the day almost three weeks later when she returned with a new pair for you.

Usually you could be found clad in a tight pair of jeans, weirdly proud of your looks for someone who had been born after the world ended. It had earned you the nickname of Princess by most of your peers. Today, instead of the typical jeans, was a short denim skirt. You had clearly sacrificed a pair of jeans for them but Jesse could appreciate the sacrifice. Completely unbiased, just as a man.

He was starting to get paranoid Dina would hear his thoughts. At this point he was going to deserve to be strangled. The top you were wearing was also of your own doing. It had been a white blouse once, Jesse guessed. Except now it was sleeveless and cropped, tying at the front in a little knot. You hadn’t bothered to button it all the way.

“Well that answers that.” You grinned happily and Jesse blinked at you. “You were staring, it means I look hot.”

You gave him a little twirl and he was treated to a glimpse of what he was certain was definitely your underwear. He closed his eyes and asked the lord for strength, if he even existed.

“Tonight’s the night.” You told him enthusiastically. Jesse still hadn’t gathered enough brain cells to answer you but it was like you didn’t need him to. Like you could read his mind in the way he feared Dina could. “Ellie’s finally coming to a dance.”

“Think you’ve picked it up wrong, Princess. Ellie doesn’t dance. Ellie actively avoids dances by hanging out in Joel’s garage and smoking so much she reeks of weed for three days after.” That was oddly specific. Jesse knew far too much about his friends at this point. Ellie’s smoking habits, the color of your underwear. When would it end?

“I know but it’s part of her fixing her relationship with Joel. He likes these things apparently, even though he just sits down the back and glares at people.” You told Jesse excitedly. For some reason Joel liked you.

He told you about how he was trying to fix things between him and Ellie. He talked to you during meals, he patrolled with you and he even had been caught leaving your house.

In the beginning it had been weird. Everyone felt weird about it including Ellie who had callously called you out for fucking Joel a few months after she had arrived to Jackson.

You hadn’t had the best reaction about it. Calling Ellie a slew of names, promptly bursting into tears and running out of the Tipsy Bison. And while Joel would probably murder people for looking at Ellie wrong, he had shaken his head at Ellie, following you out of the bar.

Turns out you had known Joel. He had helped you years ago when he had come across a gang of rival raiders, ones that didn’t have the same barely there morals he had.

No women or no children. He had sworn he wouldn’t do that and he had stuck to it. So when he came across you, barely ten and already far more exposed to the cruelties of the world something in him had snapped.

He had gotten you and your mother away. And the pair of you had made your way to Jackson, only for him to find you years later. Your mother having passed away since he had last saw you.

It just so happened one of the nights he had been walking home late from the Tipsy Bison he had encountered you trying to tell one of the stable boys you weren’t interested.

He hadn’t listened and Joel had intervened, reminding you of that fateful night so many years ago. The puzzle pieces had clicked and you had formed a sort of dependency on the man who had saved your life.

At this point Joel was collecting daughters like they were Pokémon and he was too tired to keep fighting it so he just let you come around when you had some small issue you needed advice on.

You had explained some of this to Ellie the next night, apologizing for calling her names in an act of graciousness nobody was sure Ellie deserved. It wasn’t long until most of your inner circle had put it together that you had a crush on her.

Everyone but Ellie, that was. So you had hatched these elaborate schemes to get her attention and everyone watched when you crashed and burned only to bounce back again and again.

You were kind of unshakeable. It was almost inspiring.

So when you walked into the Tipsy Bison that night with your hair curled and what passed for make up on these days everyone was ready to watch you fail again.

A few of the women had been reclaiming old beauty practices after a particularly good patrol had found an old salon with hair styling tools. And some out of date makeup but it was powders so did it even count as an expiration date?

“She always does so much and for what?” Ellie asked and Joel looked up from his drink to find you scanning the crowd. “Oh god she’s going to coming over here.”

“Cut her some slack, I thought you were friends now.” Joel sighed and Ellie looked back at Joel before looking back at you.

“We’ve nothing in common except Jesse and Dina.” Ellie explained to Joel. Joel knew he was on thin enough ice with Ellie so he didn’t mention that according to you, there was so many shared interests that it just made sense.

Instead of approaching like Ellie had predicted you would after spotting her, you made your way to the bar instead and Joel watched Ellie’s eyes lock on the length of your skirt. Or rather the lack of length to it.

Joel wondered if he was in good enough graces with Ellie again yet to make a joke about it but he caught himself at the last second in case he ruined your best laid plans.

He looked back to you at the bar and found it wasn’t just Ellie’s attention you had managed to capture. Stable boy apparently hadn’t learned his lesson and had returned for more.

Joel straightened up in his seat and wondered if Tommy would kill him for hurting this kid. It would probably be worth it to teach him a lesson.

Joel didn’t need to move because he watched Ellie approach you and slot in on your other side, taking all of your attention. Ellie gestured for three drinks off Seth before turning to look at you.

“New skirt?” Ellie asked and you lit up like the fact that she noticed was the greatest thing ever. Like you couldn’t even hear the stable boy say anything from behind you as he attempted to get your attention back.

“Do you like it?” You asked Ellie, giving her a little twirl so she could appreciate the whole view. Ellie let her eyes trace you up and down as you finished with a little bounce and who was Ellie to not appreciate the way your tits moved.

“I mean, it’s a skirt.” She shrugged and you visibly deflated as Seth approached with the drinks.

“I think it’s a great skirt.” Stable boy told you and you barely looked over your shoulder at him to roll your eyes.

“Literally no one in Jackson cares what you think Darwin.” You snapped and Ellie laughed lightly, nudging the third glass in your direction.

“Come on then.” She instructed and nodded to where Joel was sitting, watching the whole interaction with what was almost a smile on his face.

“With you?” You asked, cradling the drink in your hand and looking between her and the table.

“Unless you want to stay here with Darwin?” Ellie shrugged and started walking away. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you followed her over to the table. Instead of taking the seat she had been in, beside Joel, she took the one across the table from him, kicking the chair beside her out in a casual way that made your heart beat double time.

“Hey Joel, how you doin’?” You asked, smiling at him before taking a sip of your drink. He took his own drink from the table and sipped at it slowly, looking over your shoulder.

“Am I gonna have to talk to Stable Boy?” Joel asked rather than answer your question and you followed his gaze to where Darwin had his elbows leaned back on the bar, watching you.

“She’s plenty capable, ain’t you Princess?” Ellie asked, her arm sliding along the back of your chair. “Put him in his place just now.”

You had been barely paying attention to Darwin at the bar, definitely not enough to remember what you had said. Recalling as much was even hard with Ellie’s fingers tracing the place when you had cut the sleeves off your blouse. Her finger traced your skin lightly and you could feel the goosebumps following in her wake.

“Is that so?” Joel asked with what was almost a smile. “What’d you tell him?”

“I uh, I don’t know.” You muttered, looking back again to find Darwin wasn’t looking anymore, talking to some of his friends. “I wasn’t mean, was I?”

“Told him no one cared about his opinion in all of Jackson.” Ellie sounded proud of you and you leaned further back into her arm with a satisfied grin.

“He should know better than goin’ talkin’ to you anyway.” Joel muttered, swirling his glass as the music started up. “I obviously didn’t scare him enough.”

Ellie looked between you both and back to Darwin. You figured she didn’t know anything about the night Joel interrupted you both in the middle of an argument.

“Darwin’s really not so bad.” You sighed, looking back at him again. He was talking avidly, telling a story with his hands and his friends were laughing. “He just don’t know what to do with a pretty girl.”

“Pretty girl?” Ellie laughed meanly and you looked up at her and swallowed the lump suddenly growing in your throat. “You sure of that?”

You leaned forward, away from her arm and stared at the table before looking up at Joel who was pinching the bridge of his nose. “I uh, I’m gonna..” you trailed off, shaking your head before standing up.

You passed Jesse and Dina who were coming in. They watched you and looked across to where Ellie was watching you leave, her arm still slung around your chair.

You tried to ignore the cold, crossing your arms across your chest and heading for home. You wiped at your eyes feeling pathetic that you were actually gonna cry.

“Hey Princess!” You sighed, looking over your shoulder and found Darwin standing a couple of feet away. “You usually never leave a dance until the music stops playing.”

“I don’t feel much like dancin’.” You shrugged, shivering again. He sighed, stepping a little closer and extending his jacket he had in his hand. “It’s fine.”

“Take it, nothing worse than seeing a pretty girl cry. She don’t need to be cold too.” You laughed at his logic, taking his jacket from his outstretched hand. “What’s got you so upset? Thought all your dreams were coming true with how close you two were.”

“She insinuated I wasn’t pretty.” You told him, feeling pathetic. You wiped your tears away again and Darwin rolled his eyes, stepping close enough to pull you into a hug. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“It ain’t stupid. You know you’re the prettiest girl in town. That’s why everyone calls you Princess.” He assured you, a soothing hand rubbing your back. “We all got our talents and ain’t no one as pretty as you.”

“I got other talents.” You muttered petulantly and he laughed.

“I know you do. You’re a dab hand at tracking, make the rest of us look stupid. When fall comes you make a great apple pie. And you ain’t never failed to put a smile on someone’s face no matter how bad their day is.” Darwin told you with a squeeze. You looked up at him and pouted.

“Why can’t I like you?” You asked him and he laughed, tossing his head back. “Ellie would never say all that to me. She’s just mean.”

“I wish you could like me too. But it ain’t that simple telling your heart what to do.” He released you with one arm, wrapping the other around your shoulder to guide you home.

“Ain’t that for sure.” You sighed before looking back to where the music was pouring from the Tipsy Bison. “You wanna dance?”

“You tryna get my hopes up?” He asked with a laugh and you shook your head at him, squaring your shoulders. “Thought you weren’t up for dancin’?”

“I ain’t but she doesn’t get to know she hurt me like that. So we should go back and dance. I still ain’t gonna crawl into your bed tonight but we can be friends, can’t we?” You asked and Darwin could only roll his eyes, turning back towards the bar.

“Maybe a couple of the other girls’ll see you in my arm and start paying me some attention.” You looked almost offended and he shrugged. “Ain’t you using me to make her jealous?”

You were and he was right about it. It shouldn’t hurt that he was getting something out of it too so you only nodded at him, taking his hand and leading into the bar.

He paused you in the doorway and lifted his hands up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs running under your eyes. “Don’t let her know she made you cry.”

You smiled up at him as the door pushed open. Jesse looked between you and Darwin and paused in place, jaw dropped.

“I was just coming to check on you.” Jesse muttered and you shrugged as Darwin dropped his hands from your face.

“We were just getting some air.” You told Jesse, pulling Darwin back into the bar by his hand. “Nothing to see here.”

///

The sounds of the forest were better to quiet your mind than any of the weed Eugene managed to bring into Jackson. You stood with your head tilted back towards the sun, letting the breeze cool you.

You could hear the noise of the others as they travelled through the small settlement behind you, killing off the runners you’d been tracking.

You didn’t much get involved in that. It turned your stomach at best and made you violently ill at worse.

You had a gun on your hip that you only ever shot at unmoving targets, keeping your skills sharp but without causing harm. You had seen enough blood to last you a lifetime.

“Bout ready to get saddled up again, Princess.” Joel told you from a little to your left. You turned your head to look at him, lifting a hand to block the sun rays. “You finished sunbathing?”

“Almost, a bloater travelled through here. Couple days ago at most.” You told Joel and he looked around, watching for what you saw. You didn’t share any of the details with him. You didn’t need to be out of a job.

“Got enough time?” Joel asked and you shook your head. He nodded slowly, watching the forest with you. “We’ll come out this way again tomorrow. Plan an overnight patrol.”

“Sounds good to me.” You agreed lightly, listening to the sounds of everyone else saddling back up from a little behind the tree line.

“So, stable boy, huh?” Joel asked and you rolled your eyes. You looked up at Joel, still shielding your eyes before turning and heading back to your horse. “I’m just asking.”

“Well don’t. Darwin and I are friends. He’s nicer than other people I chose to associate with recently.” You told him, pulling yourself up onto your horse without bothering to look back at him. “Maybe it’s time I find good friends.”

“You got good friends and none of them tried to force themselves on you in a dark alley.” Joel reasoned as he pulled himself up onto his horse.

“He wasn’t gonna force himself on me.” You sighed. “He was a little drunk and thought I just needed convincin’. He never set a hand on me. I’m not that ten year old anymore.”

“I know that. You’re a woman now and you make your own decisions. I just wanna make sure you’re making good ones.” You stared at Joel, eyebrows furrowed.

“Joel, I uh, I ain’t tryin’ to be rude. But you aren’t my father.” You told him, bewildered at the sharing he was doing when usually a grunt was all the acknowledging you’d get. “You got Ellie for that.”

“You ain’t ever turned my advice down before.” He shrugged and you shook your head.

“Thanks to your advice I was cryin’ outside the bar last week. You told me to have patience but Joel, I ain’t ever gonna let someone talk to me like that.” You sighed. He didn’t reply and you didn’t much care, urging your horse on ahead.

You spent some time discussing an early patrol tomorrow with Tommy. He’d need to put together a small team for overnight so that you could track that bloater and get rid of it.

You resolutely ignored Joel who’s eyes you could feel burning into your back and kept a similar distance from Jesse who was just confused for all intents and purposes.

You didn’t bother taking time to explain to any of your friends why you were quietly drawing away from them. You didn’t know how to explain what finally tipped you over the edge was a dig that maybe you weren’t as pretty as you thought you were.

You were embarrassed to admit it had knocked your confidence a little. You had always held your looks close to your heart. You were a little vain, you knew as much. Your mama had been the most beautiful woman you had known. She had told you about being a pageant queen and how she had loved looking pretty.

Jesse wouldn’t understand it. He wasn’t a girl, he didn’t understand that drive to be worried about how you looked. Dina would laugh at you, of that you were sure. She had always laughed at your need to wear clothes that almost bordered on impractical.

You hadn’t minded before. But now you wondered if maybe you were an outsider. You had been friends with Jesse and Dina way before Ellie had come along but Ellie had slotted in seamlessly to the group. It was a kind of heartbreaking thought that once again you were isolated from everyone else.

On your return to Jackson, Darwin was at the stable, welcoming in the patrol men and taking their horses. You hung around for a while, helping Darwin with brushing the horses and settling them in for the night.

"We'll be heading out again tomorrow." You told him, fighting around a yawn. He looked up from where he was brushing Joel's horse and smiled at you. "Ain't you up for a patrol soon?"

The patrol schedule, like most jobs in Jackson, was rotational. For everyday patrols there was a set schedule and groups who would do them all the time. But the long patrols, the overnight, were a town-wide rotation in which every able-bodied adult took part.

Your momma had said something about jury duty the first time it had come up. You never had a chance to ask her what that had meant.

"Yeah sure, think I'll be in for this one." Darwin nodded, finishing up with the horse and dusting his hands off. He gave you a grin and you rolled your eyes at him, already expecting the stupid joke that followed that particular grin. "You wanna share a sleeping bag?"

"I think I'd rather share it with the bloater we're looking for." You scoffed, tossing his bag at him as you left the stable with him. You cast a look in through the other stables as you both left and found Ellie brushing Shimmer.

She looked over her shoulder at the sound of Darwin chattering and you paused when she called our name. When you paused in place Darwin stopped by your side. Ellie stared between you both, eyes narrowing.

"I'll see you at dinner." You told Darwin with a sigh, resting your arms on the half door of the stable. Ellie watched him walk away before turning to you with a raised eyebrow.

"You heading out tomorrow?" Ellie asked and you nodded, resting your chin on your forearms. She fidgeted with the brush in her hands, barely looking up at you. "Joel says it's a bloater. You ever seen one before?"

"Is this an exam, do I need to get so many questions right before you let me leave?" You asked her and she rolled her eyes, throwing the brush into her bag.

"I was just asking, no need to get your panties in a twist." Ellie scoffed and you huffed, standing up straight. "I can't make conversation with you now? Got your little boyfriend and suddenly you're too good for your friends."

"Like you're a friend? The way that you treat me?" You asked with a scoff and Ellie recoiled as if you had shocked her with something she didn't already know. "You cut me down at every single chance you get and call yourself my friend."

"It was a joke, I can't make a joke?" She asked, almost shouting and you shook your head, running a hand through your hair. "You never had a problem with me making a joke before."

"You never called me ugly before." You muttered and she blinked at you. You stared at her for several seconds as she remained unmoving and sighed. "I never realized you were laughing at me, not with me. It hurt a little."

You left her standing in the stable and wondered how she dared to pretend she hadn't noticed that everything she had said to you wasn't a dig in one way or another.

You had clearly been delusional in thinking that there would ever have been a chance that she was interested in you.

///

The thing about early morning patrols was that most people in the usual patrol group kept it quiet until everyone had fully woken up. By everyone, you meant mostly Eugene and yourself.

Unfortunately, Darwin had chosen this morning to be especially chatty and Ellie was telling Joel a bunch of puns from a tattered book. You leaned forward, your forehead against your horse's mane, and tried to tune it all out before you raised your head again.

"Up late, Princess?" Darwin asked and you groaned, lifting a hand to block out the rising sun from your eyes.

“Dreaming of you, Sweetheart.” You told him before digging your heels in and urging your horse up ahead to Eugene who seemed to be distancing himself from the chatter boxes.

“Damn shame we can’t just tape their mouth shut.” Eugene grunted and you laughed at him, rolling your eyes. “That boy of yours could draw a pack of the biters with a whisper.”

“He ain’t mine.” You laughed and Eugene shook his head, pulling down his sunglasses to look at you. “He’s not my type.”

“The other loud mouth is though.” He pointed out and you sighed heavily, reaching out and attempting to swipe his sunglasses.

“Cmon old man, I know you stole my last pair. I just know it.” You accused and he shook his head with a smirk as he batted your hands away.

“You can’t prove it, Princess. You’ll have to keep a look out for your own.” He told you and you sighed. You were approaching the location you had spotted bloater tracks so you sat up straight and reached back to tie your hair up in a ponytail.

Darwin joined your sides the same filthy grin on his face that you knew a comment was coming. “You know what that does to me, baby.”

“You make me want to vomit.” You replied with a sigh, pulling on your horses reigns and hopping down. Eugene followed you while the others waited back.

“Think it might have fallen off a cliff and died and we can just all go home?” Eugene asked and you rolled your eyes. You followed the signs that lead you to your discovery the other day.

Several of the plants had been squashed in the surrounding area. On several of the trees there was residue from the bloater knocking into them. The terrible echolocation skills allowed you to follow their path pretty easily.

“Dumb motherfucker got me wasting a whole day and night on this shit.” Eugene sighed, watching you follow the path of destruction. He went back for your horses and to gather everyone else.

You took your time, watching the signs and clues. At one point the bloater had just wandered in a circle, trampling a ring of destruction. You figured it was probably chasing an animal or something.

When the others caught up you accepted the reigns of your horse off Eugene and hopped up on her back. The group was much quieter as you followed the trail.

You had been right about one thing. The bloater had been a few days ahead of you. By the time the sun was beginning to set you were still over a day behind it. With the slow speed it travelled you would be well able to catch up the following morning and be home before sundown.

With that news the group made way to the nearest outpost in a small farm house. The horses were set up in the barn, Darwin offering to do his duty by settling them all in.

The rest of you trailed into the farmhouse.

Joel lit a fire while everyone set up their space for the night. You and Eugene played rock paper scissors for the sofa and he laughed when you lost, setting your sleeping bag up on the floor.

He then lost to Joel who disputed his claim only for him to offer the sofa to Ellie which made you and Eugene roll your eyes.

You hung a pot over the fire, unpacking a few tins of food. While you waited you dug your fists into the bottom of your back, trying to ease the pain taking residence there.

“I got somethin’ for that!” Eugene called and you only laughed at him. You had no doubt he had an arsenal of ‘stuff’. “You young people shouldn’t be hurting’ like you’re eighty.”

“Youth is wasted on the young.” Joel clapped Eugene on the shoulder in passing.

///

Mostly everyone was sleeping. Eugene was starfished by the fire, his massive form almost blocking the light from it. Ellie was curled up on the sofa, her hand resting down the side, almost touching Joel who was sleeping next to her, still as a corpse. Darwin was closest to where you had set up, almost completely covered by his sleeping bag, only the top of his head peeking out.

You were sat up, turning your gun over in your hand. It was your turn to keep watch and you had sat yourself up on a counter in the kitchen to do so. The floor was open plan so you could still see everyone while keeping an eye on things outside.

The heat of the evening was getting to you and so you took a second to pad outside, wincing at the creak of the screen door. There was a bench on the porch and you lowered yourself into it.

The night was silent, the only sound from the slight rustle of the leaves in the gentle breeze. There was just over half a moon, a natural source of light allowing you to see the trees of the forest.

In times like this it was easy to forget why you were out here. You had never known a life before the outbreak but your momma had told you stories about how she had lived.

You wanted to experience a peagant and see her in all her glory. You wanted a prom and Friday night football games. You wanted to know what it had all been about.

Most of all you wanted your momma. She’d probably be able to comfort you in getting over Ellie. She always was able to calm you down even when the two of you were living through hell.

That was if she was okay with you liking girls. You had never had a chance to tell her about how you felt. She had died well before you had accepted it.

Cancer.

The world ended and zombies took over but cancer was what killed her in the end. Without chemo there was nothing the doctors in Jackson could do.

The people of Jackson had been good to you. You had lived in a boarding house until you were eighteen and then gave you back your momma’s house.

The screen door creaked and you looked up when Darwin stepped out. He didn’t speak and so neither did you, letting him take his place beside you.

“Hard to sleep when we ain’t at home.” He told you after a little while and you nodded in agreement, still watching the forest. “You okay?”

“Just thinkin’ about Momma.” You told him honestly. “I been missin’ her.”

“She’d be real proud of you.” He told you with a cut off laugh. “I remember her. She was real pretty and real nice. Used to help my mom set her hair in rollers on special occasions.”

“She didn’t want beauty to die.” You told him and he nodded. Everyone knew that about her. Some people had thought her vain. But in her eyes it was her culture, her history. Her momma had been the same and even her momma before that.

“As long as you’re alive beauty is sure to be.” Darwin smiled at you and you smiled back, tipping your head to lay on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you and together you watched the forest.

It was tipping into Darwin’s watch time before he spoke again, calling your name softly to see if you were awake. You hummed sleepily and he chuckled.

“We could’ve been so easy, you know?” He asked, sighing wistfully. You sat up as if you had been scolded and he reached for your hand in apology. “I know, you don’t like men. But if you did it would be easy.”

“Yeah. I’ve always known, you know?” You asked him, laughing humorlessly. “I didn’t get crushes on boys so I just ignored it. And then I met Ellie.”

“Did you ever even try?” Darwin asked, pulling back to look at you. “Did you just write all men off?”

“I didn’t need to try. I knew.” You didn’t like the accusation in his tone and so you leaned back away from him. He released your hand to run a hand through his hair. “I’ve always known.”

“You can’t know something like that.” You opened your mouth to argue with him and he pressed forward, his hand tangling in your hair and holding you in place. He forced himself on you, kissing you so hard your teeth bruised your lips and you gasped.

His tongue invaded your mouth while his hands pawed at your chest. You struggled to push away from him but he was stronger than you. The only sound was the click of your safety, the gun against his stomach.

He froze, not releasing you entirely but pulling his lips back from yours. “What are you doing?”

“Get your hands off me. Right now.” You warned, your voice shaky. He raised both hands, pulling away slowly from you. “If you ever touch me again I-”

“You won’t use that gun, sweetheart.” Even with his hands raised he was cocky about it and you knew he was right. You didn’t shoot infected never mind living people.

“I won’t have to. Joel is plenty fond of using his.” You warned standing up and walking back towards the screen door. He didn’t follow you inside and you paused inside the door.

Eugene and Joel were unmoved. Ellie had rolled over to face the back of the sofa but she was still. You took a moment to gather yourself, wiping the tears off your face.

Your hands were shaking as you returned to your bed roll, pulling it closer to Joel. You pulled the blanket up over your head and tried not to shake with your sobs, freezing when the creak of the screen door signaled Darwin’s return inside.

///

“You okay there, Princess?” Eugene asked quietly. The other three had pulled ahead, the early morning chatter driving you and him a few meters back. When you didn’t answer Eugene tried again. “Princess, you with me?”

“Huh?” You blinked at him, shaking your head and then looking back to him. “I was in my own world. Sorry.”

“Hope it’s damn better than this one.” He sighed and you huffed a laugh before sighing yourself. Ellie and Joel were chatting up the front. Darwin interjected every once in a while but Ellie seemed to be trying to exclude him.

Your eyes were dry from crying and the headache you had wasn’t aided by the sun that was beating down on top of you. Your stomach turned every time Darwin looked back at you.

You wanted to scream at him to stop looking at you. You wanted to tell Joel and Eugene what he had done to you so that they could leave his body in the woods. You wanted to dig your heels in to your horse and gallop into the woods where no one would ever touch you again.

Instead you clutched the reins so your hand wouldn’t shake and you nudged your horse into speeding up to take the lead before Joel could call you.

You were closer to the bloater, somewhere within an hour of its stumbling steps. It was traveling in a wide arc and with time it would return to Jackson’s area. It made the trip worth it. For everyone but you it seemed.

It took less than fifteen minutes for you to land on the bloaters tail. There was scraps of what counted as flesh on the trees, trampled plants and a lack of nature sounds in the area.

When the horses grew too loud you left them back, tying their reins to the trees. Eugene took the lead with Joel following up on the end of the group. The bloater was easy tracked from here.

Eugene had his shotgun loaded and Joel had his rifle. Ellie was using her pistol but she had a Molotov cocktail to get things started. You held your pistol in your grip and hoped you wouldn’t need it. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Darwin and ensure he had a loaded gun.

The bloater was trying to navigate the forest and found difficulty in getting past the dense trees. Every couple of feet it stumbled and almost knocked itself over.

It was pathetic to watch but you knew once the first shot was taken it would no longer be this stumbling mess but an evolved killing machine.

Joel lifted a hand and pointed at Ellie to stay. Eugene and him circled around until the bloater was unknowingly surrounded. Darwin took post beside Ellie and you stood back, pistol raised and hands shaking.

With a nod Ellie threw the Molotov which burst at the bloaters feet. The infected screeched and roared when Ellie followed with two shots from her pistol.

Eugene raised his shotgun as you looked around. A shot went off followed by Joel’s rifle and the bloater hit the ground. You were still looking around, following imprints in the ground. There was a second pair of bare feet, much smaller than the bloater. You had missed them.

You turned to warn everyone, all of them gathered by the bloater. Just behind Ellie a stalker approached. You didn’t have time to warn them when two shots sounded. The stalkers body dropped and so did you.

Your knees buckled from under you landing you in the dead leaves and branches on the ground. You had dropped your gun, hands over your ears trying to block out the sound.

Joel was checking over Ellie who had barely moved despite how close your bullets had come to her head. She was staring at the stalker, two bullets lodged in its head.

Darwin got to you first and reached for you but you scrambled away. “Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me.”

You reached for your gun again and pointed it at him catching Joel and Eugene’s attention as Darwin raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

You knew you were sobbing, your hands shaking violently. Joel and Eugene were talking to you and you knew you should listen but you couldn’t. You had shot someone. You had shot someone to save Ellie. An infected, sure. But it had been someone once.

“Hey there, Princess.” Her voice broke the quiet. “I’m gonna take that from you. I ain’t a fan of Darwin either but we can’t shoot him.”

She reached out and hit the safety on your gun before removing it from your shaking hands. You looked from Darwin to her and she shushed you when you tried to speak. “That’s okay, I just don’t wanna muck out the stalls if he’s dead.”

“I shot someone.” You whispered and Ellie shook her head. You could still see the body of the stalker so you nodded. “I did. I killed someone.”

“You saved my life, that’s what you did. You saved me.” Ellie told you and you blinked, focusing on her face. “You did your job and tracked the bloater and then you tracked the stalker. You saved my life, Princess.”

“I should’ve, I couldn’t-”

“Shh, that’s okay. Why don’t we head on home?” Ellie asked, helping you up off the ground. “Get some warm food and a decent bed to make up for last night. You okay to ride?”

“I can share with her.” Darwin reached out and you flinched away into Ellie. “It’s okay, Princess. It’s just me.”

“Don’t let him touch me.” You begged Ellie quietly. “Please don’t let him touch me.”

Ellie kept one arm around you as she guided you to the horses. She was talking to you quietly but all you could see was your shaking hands. The hands of a murderer.

“Time to get on up. You can share with me, okay?” Ellie asked. On autopilot you climbed up onto Shimmer and shifted forward when the press of Ellie warmed against your back.

“You and I are gonna talk when we get home.” Joel muttered in the background and you released a breath. Joel would protect you just like always.

///

You were in your bed. You didn’t know how you had gotten there. You were also in pyjamas. You didn’t remember putting them on. You felt off balance and shaky as you swung your legs over the edge of your bed.

The light behind your curtains told you it was midday but the last thing you remembered was closing in on the bloater with the others. When you staggered to your feet it came back to you slowly.

The stalker. You had shot it. Darwin’s hands reaching for you. Ellie and her calming voice trying to soothe you on the ride back to Jackson.

You opened your bedroom door and listened closely for voices. You and Dina lived together in your mommas old house. It wasn’t so much an offer you had made but a decision Maria had. Housing was better used for families than one single person and so Dina had joined you when her family were gone.

When you reached the living room Ellie was asleep on the sofa which surprised you. She had said something about beds. You could remember that much.

You wiped your eyes tiredly and fought a yawn as you stepped into the living room. She hadn’t changed her clothes or even gone home. Her pack was by the top of the sofa. You nudged one of her legs and her eyes opened slowly.

She sniffled a bit, a hand running over her face. When she blinked and looked up she saw you and rushed to sit up on the sofa. “You’re awake!”

“Just barely. What are you doing here?” You asked, confused. Ellie’s eyes tracked the length of your body and you folded your arms across your chest. Your pajamas weren’t the most attractive attire. “How did I get here?”

“I brought you home.” Ellie explained, patting the space beside her. You took a seat but left more distance than she had intended between you both. “You were sort of out of it for a while.”

“Yeah, that’s happens sometimes.” You muttered and looked down at your hands. “Did you put me to bed?”

“No. That was all Dina. I’ve been down here the whole time, I swear.” You nodded at her words and yawned again. Ellie didn’t say anything and you had nothing to say so you leaned back on the sofa and pulled your legs up under you.

You almost drifted off again when Ellie cleared her throat. You turned your head to look at her but she was staring down at her hands instead of meeting your eyes. “Darwin told us what happened.”

“Did he now?” You asked. Your hands tightened into fists so that they wouldn’t shake and you turned your face away from her to hide your expression. “I’m sure it was very informative.”

“He told us he kissed you.” Ellie sighed and you scoffed, shaking your head. “Yeah, Joel didn’t believe that story. So he asked him again, a little more forceful.”

“Oh.” You weren’t sure what else to say to that. You didn’t like the thought of people getting hurt but Darwin hadn’t cared about hurting you. “Is Joel gonna be in trouble?”

“No. Darwin isn’t going to talk to anyone about what happened.” Ellie assured you and you nodded slowly, your lips pursed. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Wasn’t you, was it?” You asked quietly. You fixed your gaze on the wall and picked at the skin around your nails. “Why haven’t you gone home?”

“Because I wanted to make sure that you were okay. And I wanted to apologise because I seen him do it. I saw him kiss you and I turned around and went back to bed.” You continued to stare at the wall and didn’t even try to fight the tears that welled in your eyes. “I didn’t know what it was. I heard arguing and I was just checking on you both. When I looked out you were kissing.”

You tried to fight it. The lump in your throat. Ellie was desperate to explain to you and you knew it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t have known. But she should’ve known something hadn’t been right.

You sniffed and wiped at your face, flinching away from her hand when she reached for you. You blinked and more tears fell. “You guys were the first. You, Jesse and Dina. I hadn’t even admitted to myself really.”

You sniffed again and wiped under your nose with your sleeve. You probably looked a mess right now but for the first time in your life you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “I uh- I never told my Momma. I didn’t know how she’d feel, always wanted me to find a husband. Give her grandbabies.”

“I told Darwin that I ignored it. That I always knew but I pushed it down.” Ellie stayed silent as you swallowed past the lump in you throat, wiping your eyes roughly with your sleeves. It took you a couple of seconds to get talking again and Ellie stared at her lap, picking her nails. “I told him it was you that helped me realize it. That helped me be confident enough to come out.”

Ellie opened her mouth but you only shook your head, raising you hand to stop her. Your hand was shaking and you clenched it into a fist letting it drop back down into your lap. “I’ve had people tell me I’m too pretty to be gay. I trusted you all to believe me.”

“So you’re saying this is my fault?” Ellie asked in shock and you sniffed again shaking your head. You scrubbed your hand over your face and swallowed past the recurring lump. “That’s what it fucking sounds like.”

“It’s no one faults but Darwin. He shouldn’t have done what he did but didn’t you question it for a second?” You asked her desperately. “Wasn’t there some part of you that wondered why I would do that with him. A man who has a history of being a little too forceful with his come ons?”

“How the hell was I supposed to know you hadn’t changed your mind? You always flirt with him! You were dancing together and you get dinner!” Ellie was yelling now but you didn’t have it in you to yell back. You were so drained of energy. “The short fucking skirts and tight jeans? Your tits are out most of the damn time.”

Ellie covered her mouth when your head snapped to look at her. Your jaw had dropped and your eyes widened as he words sunk in. “So it’s my fault?”

“No- that’s not what I’m-” Ellie stuttered out a half response and you stared at her. Waiting for something different. Waiting for her to explain it.

“You gave me the confidence to come out. To be myself and dress how I like. To not care about people thinking I’m too pretty to be gay. And everyday since you’ve chipped away at that confidence. You can have it all. Just get out of my house.” You spoke evenly but your voice cracked at the end and you swallowed. “Don’t come back. I don’t care if it’s to see Dina, I don’t care if the house is on fire, I don’t care if the walls of Jackson fall down. Just don’t come back.”

“Princess, please-”

“Get the fuck out! Get out now!” You screamed at her and she raised her hands in defense, heading for the door. You watched her leave before curling up on the sofa and crying yourself back to a fitful sleep.

///

“You okay?” You nodded at Dina as you grabbed your bag off the chair in the kitchen. She held out a mug and you sipped at it between attempts to slip into your boots. “New jeans?”

“Don’t.” You hadn’t talked about any of it you didn’t tell her why you argued with Ellie, why she couldn’t come around anymore. You didn’t give any excuse other than the colder weather for the reason you were covered in layers. “I’ve got an early patrol. I’ll make dinner.”

Dina watched you tie your hair back into a loose ponytail at the base of your skull. It hadn’t been curled since that disastrous patrol. Your face was usually free of make up now and Dina finally understood what you had tried to explain.

The beauty was half of who you were. Your sunny disposition was the other half. Without you putting effort into either halves you were just a shell, pushing through each day.

“I’m off today. I can make dinner. We can have some people over. Jesse, maybe Joel and Ellie?” Dina offered and you looked up from your mug, eyes narrowed. “Or not Ellie?”

“I don’t want her in the house, Dina.” You warned her, checking your gun was loaded before tucking it into the holster by your hip. “It’s non-negotiable.”

“If you would just tell me why I could help.” Dina insisted. She stopped in front of you and reached for your arms. You flinched away from her. “You went on patrol and you came back different. Eugene says you shot a stalker and it shook you? Why is Ellie the bad guy?”

“God, Dina! No one is the bad guy, okay?” You snapped, pulling away from her further, taking steps backwards. “It was time I got my priorities in order.”

Dina couldn’t reply before you turned on your heel and left the house, the door slamming behind you. She sighed and watched out the window as you headed for the stables.

Eugene was waiting for you when you arrived, tossing a pair of sunglasses at you. You almost fumbled, catching them at the last second. “Time you stop complaining, ain’t it?”

“Where’d you find ‘em?” You asked, sliding them on against the sunshine. You grinned and Eugene and he smiled back, leading you toward the two prepared horses.

“I didn’t. Someone passed them along for you.” Your grin dropped. You knew what that was code for. You busted a boot a week ago, a new pair waited on the porch in the days that followed. Now there was sunglasses while you were heading out on patrol.

“She should mind her own business.” You didn’t take the sunglasses off though. You needed them and they were a rarity these days. You pulled yourself up onto your horse, patting Henry on his neck as you headed for the gates.

“Think she feels bad. Don’t know why, ain’t her fault. Ain’t anyones fault. Accidents happen on a patrol, you shot the stalker. Everyone survived.” Eugene muttered waving the guards of the gate off. You nodded at Jesse when he shouted his goodbye.

“It’s a more personal issue.” You explained and Eugene nodded. You didn’t elaborate further and let him draw his own conclusions.

The patrol went easy, it was more a chance to enjoy the sun while riding through the forest. At the last outpost Eugene pulled his horse to a stop and you copied him, lifting your sunglasses to watch him.

“I told them we’d be late back. That we’d have a stop to make.” He offered you a grin and you took him up on that grin, turning your horse to where you knew he wanted to go.

///

You tossed yourself down on the sofa hand extended towards Eugene. He only laughed at you but he did in fact hand over the joint. You inhaled deeply from it and coughed a little.

“Doing God’s work, you know that?” You asked him with a sigh, tilting your head back to look at the ceiling above you.

“Feel like if anyone could do with some relaxin’ then it’d be you.” Eugene sat back on a stool, his own joint between his lips. “Now tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head, Princess.”

“It’s fucking stupid.” You sighed before inhaling again. You counted the cracks in the ceilings before throwing your arm over your eyes. “Darwin crossed a line. A big line.”

“Explained Joel near breaking his nose.” Eugene replied. You hadn’t seen Darwin in the month or so since that patrol but the rumors had reached you that he had returned with a bloody and bruised nose. “He hurt you?”

“He kissed me. Tried to prove some point that I didn’t like men cause I hadn’t tried them.” You explained and Eugene scoffed.

“I ain’t tried men and I sure as shit know I don’t like ‘em. Why would anyone want a man when there’s women?” Eugene asked. You couldn’t help but laugh at him, nodding in agreement. You inhaled again from the joint and lifted your arm to look at Eugene.

“Ellie, well she, I mean. You know how I felt about her, right?” You asked and Eugene only rolled his eyes releasing a puff of smoke. “I mean everyone knew how I felt. I loved her, I think.”

“Yeah, you’d have to be blind not to see it. That past tense is throwing me off though.” Eugene admitted. “What’s caused that?”

“Well she, I mean she saw it right? And she just thought I was kissin’ him. But she knew. Knew I didn’t like men. But she just went back to sleep. Now I ain’t blamin’ her. I ain’t. But why would she do that?” You asked Eugene. “I was just sitting there and he was holding me so I couldn’t pull away. She didn’t even try.”

“Sounds a lot like blame to me.” Eugene huffed and you frowned at him. “Probably sounded like it to Ellie too.”

“I’m not blaming her. I’m blaming Darwin. He’s the one who did it, he’s the one who hurt me.” You argued. “But she didn’t even second guess it.”

“You’re embarrassed. You never let Ellie see you anywhere less than perfect. Suddenly she sees you at the lowest you’ve ever been and you can’t cope with the embarrassment of that.” Eugene ran his fingers through his beard.

“Where in the fuck did that come from?” You asked in shock, sitting up on the couch. “You got a psychology degree or some shit?”

“I got life experience.” He rolled his eyes like it was obvious. “You can’t blame Ellie for Darwin’s actions.”

“I can blame her for her reaction. She said it was my fault, that I led him on. The way I acted and the way I dressed. Like I was asking for it.” You told him with a huff, inhaling one last time. “I shouldn’t have to dress a certain way to be safe.”

“No. You shouldn’t. But we also shouldn’t be stuck on this doomed rock fighting fucking monsters. Things aren’t always as they should be.” He sighed and you pouted at him. “Wearing the clothes you do makes you a target. Now it shouldn’t but it does. Being nice to Darwin though, that’s not leading him on. You were just tryna be his friend.”

“So now I have to dress like this all my life so men don’t think they got a right to me? I gotta forget what my momma thought me? Stop being pretty?” You asked and Eugene shrugged. “I don’t want to do that.”

“You already did. You don’t do your hair or makeup anymore. You’re wearing baggy clothes now.” Eugene pointed out and you sighed. He wasn’t wrong. “The thing is though. You’re still pretty. You’re beauty wasn’t cause a some powder or some curls. Your beauty comes from being the sweet girl you are.”

“You’re a sap.”

“Blame the weed.”

///

“I’ve got a present.” You could still feel the effects of the joint, partly responsible for your good mood when you stepped inside. You kicked off your boots and dropped your bag, passing the living room and heading for the kitchen only to pause and take two steps back.

Ellie was sitting on your sofa. Alone.

“Where’s Dina?” You asked quietly and Ellie shrugged, her lips pursed. “Thought I told you not to come around no more.”

“Dina said you changed your mind. To wait for you to get home so we could talk.” Ellie pushed herself up off the sofa. "But I'm guessing that's not true because it's not the kind of conversation to be had while high."

"Obviously it's not true. Didn't realize I'm not allowed to smoke. Guess I can't be pretty or fun anymore." You scoffed, shaking your head. "For someone who doesn't want to date me, you sure have a lot of expectations."

"I didn't say you couldn't be fun. I shouldn't have said what I said. I was wrong for that." Ellie sighed. "But I never said I didn't want to date you."

"Ellie, it might have taken me a while but I'm not an idiot. I get all dressed up so you'll look at me. I curl my hair hoping you'd run your fingers through it. I wear lipstick hoping I'll smudge it against your lips. I loved you and you never even looked at me twice." You sighed and stepped closer to Ellie. "You made me doubt my worth."

"Why would I need to look twice?" Ellie asked, a disbelieving laugh on her lips. She stepped closer to you, tilting her head and looking you over from head to toe. "I never looked away the first time."

"Oh."

Oh.

You swallowed nervously when she stepped closer, her hand landing on your hip softly to pull you the final step closer. You looked down at her hand and back up to her eyes. She was watching you, watching your reaction.

"I was trying to be better. Men look at you like they own you. People treat your beauty like it's theirs to take. I wanted to be better." She explained, barely a whisper. "I wanted you to know I liked you despite how tight your jeans were and how short your skirts were."

"How noble of you." You tried for sarcasm but it fell flat. "You could've just explained."

"I could've. Every time I tried I just sounded like an asshole." She shrugged and you swallowed, your mouth and throat dry. She was leaning in when you stepped back.

"I'm high. We shouldn't kiss like this." You whispered and Ellie nodded. She lifted a hand, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear with a small smile. "But I do wanna kiss you."

"How about you come find me when you're sober then?" She asked and you nodded, leaning into her hand. "We'll see about smudging some of that lipstick."

///

"Heading out, don't know when I'll be back." You yelled, hopping around to pull your boots on at the front door. You weren't quick enough and Dina leaned against the frame of the living room door, looking you over.

"You look hot," Dina observed and you nodded, fixing your hair in the mirror by the door. "Where are you headed?"

"Momma wouldn't ask me that, bless her soul." You huffed a laugh and swung your bag over your shoulder. "You and Jesse have manners while I'm gone, ya hear me?"

"You didn't answer the question!" Dina yelled and you opened the door, turning to look at her over your shoulder. "Where're you going?"

"Out, don't wait up, Mom." You called hurrying down the porch steps and getting away from her invasive questions. She knew where you were going. She had to. Ellie had been allowed back into the house and the pair of you were dancing around each other all week.

Ellie opened the garage door the second you knocked and you smiled brightly at her as you passed by her to get inside. You had been in Ellie's garage more times than you could count but you had never seen it so tidy.

"You clean up just for me?" You asked her as you dropped your bag by the end of her sofa. She rolled her eyes and shut the door but you could see the blush on her cheeks. She was embarrassed and it was oddly sweet.

"You dress up just for me?" Ellie asked, eyebrows raised. You on the other hand were prepared for her question. You nodded and held your arms out, a slow twirl just for her. You had no doubt she was getting the best view. "Damn, Princess.”

“It’s nice to have you appreciating me for once.” You hummed, finishing your twirl and leaning back against the arm of her sofa. “Make sure you get a good look.”

“For once?” She asked as she stepped away from the door and towards you. You only pursed your lips to hide your smile. “I once fell off Shimmer cause I was too busy staring at your ass.”

“You said your stirrup snapped!” You laughed in delight. She only rolled her eyes as she stepped closer. You spread your legs so that she could stand between them. “Tell me more.”

“That black eye I had two months back?” She asked and you nodded. “The door of the diner swung back and hit me because you had that tied off blouse on.”

“You liked that one?” You asked with a grin and she nodded, her hand coming to rest on the bare skin on your waist between your shorts and your top. “What about this one?”

It was a ribbed camisole that you had tucked up to leave your navel on display. Ellie took care to run her thumb under the fabric of it and let her hand slide from your waist across your stomach. She tapped her finger on the button of your shorts.

“Embroider these yourself?” She asked and you nodded in excitement, your fingers tracing down over the star embroidery.

“My momma thought me. And I have this book that helps with anything she didn’t get to teach me. It’s actually not so bad. And it’s a real constellation its-”

“Cassiopeia.” Ellie finished for you, her fingers following your path and tracing the familiar constellation. “I had a bit of a space thing for a while. Wanted to be an astronaut.”

“My momma found this Barbie doll for me once. It was Astronaut Barbie. She had this pink suit and she was so pretty and I knew if she was pretty and smart then I could be too.” Your voice grew quiet at the end and Ellie laughed, her crooked finger lifting your chin.

“That’s real cute, baby.” She teased and you chewed on your bottom lip. “So now you’re the prettiest girl in Jackson and the best damn tracker I’ve ever seen.”

“Prettiest girl?” You asked, an eyebrow raised. Ellie rolled her eyes and instead of giving in to you fishing for compliments she leaned in and kissed you.

It was only a sweet press of lips, innocent compared to what you had expected. Ellie pulled away only to press a trail of kisses down to your jaw and then followed the bone up to your ear.

“Now we can do one of two things.” She whispered, her teeth nipping at your ear lobe. “We can put on a movie, cuddle under a blanket and make out.”

“What’s my other option?” You asked, your breath hitching as she kissed down the side of your neck. Still just innocent pressed of her lips.

“I take off these pretty little shorts and I fuck you dumb.” Your whole body trembled as she spoke against your collar bone. “Oh you like that idea.”

///

“Please, please.” You’re sobbing at this point, your fingers tangled in Ellie’s hair. She’s been eating you out to the point of two orgasms and she’s only just pushing a finger into you now. “Ellie, please.”

“Please what?” Ellie asks innocently. You look down at her, releasing your death grip of her hair and she looks up at you. Her chin is shiny with you and she licks her lips as you watch. Your head thumps back against her pillows. “Use your words, I haven’t fucked you yet. You can’t be this dumb just from my finger and tongue.”

“Fuck me.” You moaned as she added a second finger. “Need you to fuck me.”

Ellie, never being one to be unprepared, had surprised you. While getting undressed you had found Ellie wearing a strap and it had sped up the whole process of getting clothes off.

“Hmm, I don’t know if you’re ready for my cock, baby.” She hums and you groan, your pussy tightening around her fingers. “Maybe another finger?”

“Ellie, babe, your cock, please. Please.” You were crying actual tears and begging without shame for her. You had wanted it in your since you had found it on her and you were so frustrated you had resorted to tears.

“Oh there’s my big dumb baby.” Ellie teased, withdrawing her fingers. You looked down at her and she was spreading your slick over the head of her cock. “Awh, is my baby crying? Your pussy so needy for my cock that it brought you to tears, huh?”

You could only nod, sniffling. She took your chin between her thumb and finger and tilted your head down so you could watch her cock press into you. “Fucking yes!”

“That feel good?” Ellie asked and you sobbed, pushing down against her slow place. “You gonna fuck yourself on my dick baby? Gonna do all the work?”

“Please. I can. I can ride you.” You offered but Ellie only shook her head.

“Not the first time. I’m gonna fuck you just like this for the first time. Then I’m gonna fuck you in every position you can contort this pretty body into. It’s gonna be a long night baby.” Ellie warned and your eyes rolled back in your head as your third orgasm overtook you.

///

Ellie was lying on her back, one arm behind her head and the other wrapped around you where you lay on her shoulder. She was tracing patterns against your spine and you were trying to guess the patterns but your brain was floating way above your body.

“I like when you dress up. I like how confident you are and how bright you smile when I like what you’re wearing.” Ellie told you quietly. “But like this? Sleepy and a mess. Well I just know I fell in love with that version of you, the morning we argued.”

“Fell in love?” You asked her, your thoughts coming back down to earth. You looked up at her, a slight tilt of your head but she didn’t look at you. “You’re in love with me?”

“How couldn’t I be, baby? A sweet little dumb baby in bed and smart, gorgeous woman who’s a force unto her own out on the streets of Jackson. You don’t make it hard to love you.” She promised, pushing you hair behind your ear.

“You already know I love you too. Even if you do bully me in bed.” You giggled and she grinned at you. “It’s kind of hot actually.”

“Hmm, we’ll explore that another time, get some sleep.” She whispered, ducking down to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[mllemaenad]

Listening to Wyll's backstory in context of all the details we're acquiring on devil's contracts and soul selling is fascinating.

See - I listened to Lann Tarv's three tales to get my soul coins. I felt bad for making Karlach listen to that, obviously, but to be honest I didn't even want the coins that much. I actually wanted the stories. I wanted a better understanding of how this works.

And what I'm learning is - for the gods (and godlike beings) of this world, cruelty seems to be the point. I mean - it's possible there's a god in this world I wouldn't want to stab to death with a rusty fork, but if so I have not met them yet.

These beings have the power to save people and places, to change lives, to do anything. And when someone asks them to - they demand a terrible price. But they don't just demand a price. They subvert the original request in such a way that they utterly fail to deliver on the original promise.

An abused woman wishes to be loved - and her true love appears, but dies instantly. A man wishes to save his children from starvation, and ends up personally growing masses of meat on his own body - not only painful for him, but forcing his children into survival cannibalism, which they were trying to avoid.

Auntie Ethel works the same way. Every one of her customers is left in a tortured state, while Ethel still takes her payment.

The idea is that the person must come to regret their wish long before the payment comes due. Every cry for help must be met with a boot to the face. Or else the mortals will get uppity? Or something.

What is interesting is how consciously Wyll defies that. And how much Mizora is dancing around, trying to force him into that state of miserable regret.

Wyll was manipulated into selling his soul. He was a kid, and he was summoned into a terrible situation - and in that moment, he could see no other way to save the city. Mizora did need to save Baldur's Gate to serve her boss's purposes, so she couldn't take that victory from him - but she did everything she could to take the joy of it.

He didn't get respect, or admiration, or his father's pride for saving the city. He lost his home and his family. He was assumed to have done something monstrous because he was denied an opportunity to defend himself.

That was supposed to fill him with bitterness and regret - but he got to work building his own life instead. By the time you run into him, the Blade of Frontiers is a hero of some renown. He's remade himself, and found a way to enjoy what his powers can do, however he came by them.

So that didn't work.

Then Mizora sent him after Karlach, and that was a mission tailored to break him. Karlach is kind and heroic herself, and that the start she has been sold into slavery, mutilated and forced to fight in a war against her will. If Wyll killed her, and then found out who she really was, then he betrayed everything the Blade of Frontiers is supposed to stand for - and he would lose the life he made for himself.

But he didn't, and that didn't work either. He's got a friend, now, who at least knows part of what he's dealing with.

So Mizora gave him demonic features. That would destroy the life he's made for himself, because no one would trust him to help them.

Except now Wyll basically goes nowhere on his own, and a small army of people can attest that he got those horns and eyes as punishment for being a good man. Mizora might be able to shut his mouth, but she can't silence his friends - and the group absolutely have shouting sessions about everything. Wyll's horns become a battle scar, like his missing eye, and nothing more.

And beyond that, if you are playing as a heroic character, a significant throughline in the game's story is the journey of the tiefling refugees. The story makes it clear that these people experience a constant barrage of racism, due to their appearance and "demonic" heritage. It also makes it abundantly clear that this prejudice is entirely undeserved - they're just people, with virtues and flaws like everyone else, and what is happening to them is terrible. So Wyll turns up to assist a bunch of people whom he now at least somewhat resembles - and with Karlach along, you have two people in the group who technically count as "infernal", but haven't got an evil bone in either of their bodies.

Mizora created solidarity. Oops.

Wyll is deeply suspicious of gods and higher powers. He doesn't want to make more deals with devils. When Elminster arrives to tell Gale what Mystra demands of him, he explicitly says he does not do religion. When you get Mizora to agree to let his contract expire in six months, he starts by casually invoking the gods - but switches to thanking the player character instead, because he knows who helped, and who did not.

But he utterly refuses to regret the pact he made. That can be a struggle. He clearly misses his dad, and would like that relationship repaired. The fact that he was transformed very much against his will is clearly a source of distress from him.

But if he regrets, then Mizora wins. That's it. Game over. She gets what she wanted all along. So he doesn't.

The main companion characters all have this kind of problem, and naturally have different ways of dealing with it. You have characters like Shadowheart and Lae'zel, who were indoctrinated as children, or Gale, who was literally seduced by one of these nightmare deities - and with them you have to start out by convincing them they they were the wronged party in the first place.

But Wyll knows exactly what game he's playing, and he's been screaming defiance the whole time. It's just that, in his case, the "defiance" is grinning and carrying on every time Mizora inflicts some more bullshit on him.

[niningtori]

let me into your world | chapter one: my world is mine

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you

summary: you're a hopeless romantic waiting for your soulmate, but what do you do when you finally find him and he doesn't want you?

genre(s): romance, angst, angst with a happy ending (?), soulmate au

word count: 7.1k

notes: for some reason, i feel SO embarrassed to post this. it was the first series i ever wrote, so it's getting a facelift before seeing the light of day, but it's still a little flabby in some places. bear with me, please! also, shoutout to evie for this layout with the lyrics in the center :') i'm tired of looking at my own uglyass posts so much omg. see ending for more notes!

your soulmate is perfect in every way, or so you've been told, and you're sick of waiting to find out. everyone says meeting your soulmate is like finding the other half you never had, so when the yearning had started when you were a teen, you were eager to find him and put an end to your constant ache. it would be impossible to know who it was until your seal appeared on your skin. where it would land and what it would look like, you weren't sure, but you knew it couldn't come fast enough. in theory, he would complement you in every way. you imagine someone quiet, a little shy, maybe. someone thoughtful, someone patient and understanding. you just hope to god he's everything you wish him to be.

-

beomgyu has had just about enough of soulmate talk, but unfortunately for him, it's inescapable. when he turned 13, the yearning had already started for most of his peers. when his friends asked if he felt similarly, he simply shrugged his shoulders with a smug little grin while musing that he might not even have a soulmate — maybe he was just partnerless. some of his friends, like taehyun and kai, were appalled by this, almost pitying him. half of his heart was missing, after all. some of his other friends, however, were a bit jealous. their reasoning was "it'd be nice to not be chained down by someone you don't even know". he agreed with the latter sentiment, having seen the effects of being chained to somebody firsthand.

he remembers watching his mother wither away. she had loved his father more than anyone, even him, and got scraps of affection in return. they weren't soulmates — her perfect other half had died not long after she met him, but his father became her second and last love. he didn't concern himself with soulmate talk and eventually married beomgyu's mother. they were happy, very happy, until beomgyu was around 10 and his father met his so-called soulmate. he remembers the sheer despair on his mother's face as she found out her husband was leaving seemingly out of nowhere, her life uprooted because of a fucking pattern imprinted on her lover's skin.

they weren't soulmates, but beomgyu watched his mother die a little every day until she finally passed. dying of a broken heart was the only way he could explain what happened to her, and she did all that for a man who wasn't even her soulmate. if soulmates could make you kill someone innocent for your love, he didn't want to find his at all. if love could make you abandon everything you've ever known, well, he simply didn't want to know what it felt like.

-

college is a turning point for you, you feel. you had a good time in high school, but you're nearing the average age of the seal and you're more than prepared to find your special someone. you couldn't know for sure, but you have a feeling none of the boys in your high school were your other half.

"why don't you date just to get some experience?" sumin asks somewhat exasperatedly. you had rejected yet another guy with seemingly good intentions for practically no reason.

"i don't know, i guess i just don't want to waste my time on anybody else when i already know my soulmate is out there waiting on me," you shrug. "i want to save all my firsts for him."

"you're hopeless, you know?" she snorts.

"yeah," you smile, "but he's probably the same way." she teases you good-naturedly for this, but even she agrees that you'll most likely fall for a guy just as hopelessly in love as you are. he wouldn't even have to try very hard — you're willing to put in however much effort it takes to find him and love him unconditionally. all he needs to do is reciprocate and you would do the rest.

-

unfortunately for you, time has passed and you're nearing the end of your time in college with no soulmate in sight. you'd be more upset about it if you weren't so fucking busy with school work and trying to line up a job post-graduation. you're so wound up lately that sumin practically forces you to let loose and go to a house party. needless to say, they aren't particularly your scene. you like to drink just as much as anybody else does, you guess, but that doesn't mean you want to reek of shitty beer, sweat, and premarital sex, which will undoubtedly be the case once you step into a college house party. still, she is as persistent as you are exhausted and you're too defeated to fight.

you're fairly bored after fifteen minutes or so of loitering around all the action, never really joining in on the antics of your friends and all the other party goers unless you absolutely have to. you're absentmindedly kicking around a beer can when it rolls away, straight in front of a couch. you go to kick it again when you look up and see him.

you can't keep your eyes off of him. you've found people attractive before, but he's probably the most beautiful person — maybe even the most beautiful thing — you've ever seen. your heart almost stops when you look at him.

in that moment, the idea that he could be the one blooms in your head and you can't help but stare. you don't how long you keep your eyes locked on him, but he eventually looks up at you and his eyes widen for a split second. you're almost positive he feels what you feel, but not even a moment later, he pulls out what you can only describe as a lascivious smirk as his eyes travel up and down your figure. you feel like meat on display rather than his sacred other half. before you know it, a girl is sliding into his lap and he's turning away from you and planting a heavy kiss on her glossy lips while groping her ass.

"that's beomgyu," sumin says and you're snapped back into reality. "he's really hot, but he's slept with pretty much every girl here."

you're somewhat disappointed before you realize you must be mistaken. there's no way a man like that could be your soulmate. you strangle the bud of hope in your heart mercilessly because your soulmate is somewhere waiting for you and you can't afford to lose him over some pretty boy with community dick.

-

you said you'd avoid him, but beomgyu is the first one you notice when you walk into the first class of your final semester as a college student. his eyes lock with yours and you hurriedly avert your gaze before sliding into the nearest seat.

"hi," a sweet voice from next to you says. you jolt and turn to look at him.

"sorry, i didn't mean to scare you," he laughs.

"it's okay, i'm just a little jumpy, i guess," you grin sheepishly.

"i'm soobin," he smiles and you can see his dimples come out. you briefly wonder if he'd mind if you poked them, but that sounds weird even to you.

you introduce yourself and find you're forgetting all about beomgyu as you and soobin begin to chat. he's funny in a dorky kind of way, and you can't help but giggle at the seemingly unassuming things he says.

-

beomgyu notices you when you first walk in because of course he does, but he sees you sit next to soobin, a guy he met in freshman year, and feels a sense of loss he's never felt before. he watches as you grin and giggle at whatever lame jokes the boy next to you is almost certainly making and his eyes darken. yeonjun, his longtime friend and desk mate, notices his sour mood and asks what's wrong. beomgyu can't really answer that question. even he himself doesn't know why he feels so against you, a stranger, spending time with another guy, but he chalks it up to the fact that he thinks you're hot and would very much like to get in your pants as soon as possible.

he supposes he should have done so when he first saw you, but duty called when one of his frequent flyers sat in his lap and he couldn't very well ignore the way her chest swayed in front of him. he doesn't think about it much more deeply than that. he doesn't want to think about how your eyes seem to indicate that you know him — have known him — and he feels the same way about you. he toys with the idea of maybe asking you if you two knew each other at some point, but deep down, he knows he'd never forget you if he actually had known you before. he tries not to think about why that is.

-

a few weeks into the semester, you've sat next to soobin every day and it's safe to say you have a tiny little crush on him, but you know he's not your soulmate when he rolls his sleeves up one day and you spot a green seal on his wrist. you roll up your own sweater, just to be sure, but there's no pretty green tattoo to match. he spots your empty wrist and the expression on his face looks an awful lot like disappointment.

"i don't really care about that stuff, you know?" he whispers as your professor drones on and on about something you've stopped listening to long ago.

"really?" you ask a little too eagerly before reining yourself back in. what are you doing? you have a soulmate and he's waiting for you.

"really, really," he smiles. you prepare to launch into a long speech about the sanctity of soulmates and how you're waiting devoutly for yours, but instead of pushing the subject any further, he simply turns to the professor again and you're left reeling.

you're pulled back to your senses when the professor announces everyone will be paired up with a partner for an assignment. you and soobin grin at each other and are ready to begin prepping for the project when your professor adds that the partners will be completely random. when he calls soobin's name, your fingers are crossed in hopes that you'll somehow still get lucky, but he ends up pairing him with another classmate named yeonjun. you start getting a sinking feeling, something akin to dread, and you don't know why. clarity overwhelms you when you register that the person your professor opts to pair you with is none other than choi beomgyu.

-

beomgyu is late to your first library appointment together and though you didn't expect anything less from him, you're still annoyed when he arrives nearly 15 minutes after the scheduled time with nothing but a mumbled "sorry" and a cheeky grin.

"it's fine," you offer, but you both know you're irritated. you're a little bit of a pushover by nature and it's like he could immediately sniff it out. he doesn't even make an attempt to seem like he cares, though.

"are you ready to get started?" you ask.

"of course, what are you waiting for?" you roll your eyes at his shamelessness, frustration melting away without you intending for it to. you're kind of shy, but his presence is so comforting, it's like you've known him for years, so you dare to say your next words without much thought.

"you, smartass." he looks a little appalled at your words but he registers it as a joke when he notices the corner of your lips struggling not to pull themselves up, eyes gazing mischievously from beneath your eyelashes. not for the first time, he thinks you're really pretty. but he, not for the first time, says nothing.

-

after a few meet ups, you realize being with beomgyu is easier than you thought it would be. sure, he's incredibly obnoxious, but he's surprisingly easy to talk to. he invites you to his apartment one day and, as if he senses your apprehension before you can even feel it yourself, he states his roommate will be there as well. you try not to read too much into it, but you have a feeling he's implying that he won't make any moves on you. you're grateful for this, but unexpectedly a bit disappointed. as for why that is, you don't venture to guess.

being in his apartment is a new feeling entirely. it feels oddly... intimate somehow when you enter his bedroom and see all of his posters, his messy bed, and some vinyls stacked up against his record player. he nonchalantly puts one on and you gasp when you recognize the song.

"i love this band," you say quickly. his eyebrows raise in interest.

"you like them too?"

"of course i do! i've loved them since i was a teenager," you laugh.

"do you like their newer stuff?"

you wrinkle your nose a little bit at this, your answer evident. he laughs his signature squeaky laugh at this and you can't help but stare in awe at his dimples, like whiskers, appearing on his cheeks. you clear your throat awkwardly and begin to talk about the project.

after a few hours and some really great progress, you find you're a little hungry. you're about to mention this, but beomgyu beats you to the punch.

"i'm starving. want pizza?" you smile when you realize you're on the exact same page.

"thought you'd never ask."

-

you're sitting on his couch now, wolfing down your third piece of pizza while beomgyu slurps the cheese off of his. he's talking about absolutely nothing, but he's still easily drawing more and more laughter out of you with his antics. you tell him to stop because you hate your laugh, but he's addicted to the sound. he wants to keep you laughing. words like "always" and "forever" briefly flicker across his mind, and usually he would force them out with conviction, but he's having such a good time hearing you giggle he can't pay attention to much else. he never says it or gives any indication he feels that way, though. he just tells you "i can't help that i'm so fucking funny and charming and beautiful." you lightly smack the back of his head and he's giggling with you.

things are going remarkably well when his roommate emerges from his room and says a few of his friends will be coming over soon. you don't particularly want to hang around them and you certainly don't want to overstay your welcome, but beomgyu, for reasons unknown, insists that you stick around.

"we can just relax for a bit then get back to work. c'mon, don't you wanna finish this thing?"

"fine, fine, fine. i'll stay." his face lights up at your words and you can't help but blush a little bit at this. why he's so excited, you have no clue. what you also don't know is he has no idea why he's so excited, either.

a few minutes later, a few guys enter the apartment boisterously and you can't help but internally regret sticking around. beomgyu, almost preternaturally, senses how uncomfortable you are and makes an effort to introduce you and include you in conversation. things are going well until one of the guys, whose name you don't know but whose face seems vaguely familiar, makes an offhanded comment.

"y'know, gyu, she's actually very smart. maybe you'll actually pass." the entire group bursts into laughter and joke about his supposed stupidity and laziness.

"he's actually very helpful. i couldn't do this without him," you counter with a little edge to your voice.

"maybe you're not deadweight after all," he says sarcastically. beomgyu just smirks and goes along with it. to the untrained eye, he seems perfectly fine, but to you, he just looks kind of sad. you pull out your phone and decide to text him.

you don't have to laugh if you don't think it's funny

he looks up at you and you nod encouragingly.

it's fine i really am kinda dumb

don't say things you don't mean. you're not their dancing monkey here to entertain them and you're not a fucking punching bag

his heart feels a little sour at this. how did you know he was hurt by their comments, no matter how seemingly harmless they were? even his own friends didn't seem to notice, but somehow, you did. you always seem to notice the little changes within him. like when he's tired and doesn't want to show it, you offer to take breaks or meet another day. or when he's stressed out so you try to wrangle even the smallest of smiles out of him — real ones, that is. he wants to say you're just a thoughtful and perceptive person, but in reality, he thinks it's a little more complicated than that.

-

it's beomgyu's birthday, which should be a happy occasion, but for some reason, you feel like shit. you wonder if it's a mix of anxiety because of the project or maybe because your time in college is coming to the end, but it feels so much more profound than that. you woke up this morning from a fitful sleep and it feels like there's a hole blown through your heart. if you feel like shit, you don't look much better, but you have to meet with beomgyu at his apartment and you can't be late.

"whoa, you look absolutely awful," he muses when he opens the door and sees you with two appalling dark circles under your eyes.

"wow, thanks, asshole," you mumble. you did, indeed, look and feel like utter shit, but being here seems to bring a sense of relief you did not anticipate.

"hey, i'm just kidding, you look pretty," he laughs. he's been saying things like this, lately. you can't deny the way your heart skips a beat, but you shoot down any further thoughts because you know, know, know he sleeps around and you know that seemingly off-the-cuff comments like this are probably part of the reason why he's able to do so as easily as he does. you're not to be trifled with, though, so instead of letting the comment fly off your back as you usually would, your mouth opens before you know it.

"not as pretty as you, beoms," you smirk. you don't know exactly what you expected, but his ears turning a rosy pink isn't it.

"o-okay," he says sheepishly, clearing his throat. you find him criminally endearing in this moment, and for once, you don't mentally slap yourself for it.

"oh yeah. happy birthday!" you say, pulling out a cupcake and decisively putting an end to the awkwardness.

"thanks," he says with a smile before eyeing you suspiciously. "is this poisoned?"

"give it back," you say monotonously and he giggles when you try to snatch it away from him.

"hey, i'm just kidding! thank you!" he says as he takes a bite and his eyes widen in surprise.

"mmm, how'd you know this flavor's my favorite?"

"i dunno, i didn't. i just kinda figured you'd like it," you shrug. you walk towards his coffee table, which is where you all have been working lately, and again he's plagued with the idea that you know him far more deeply than you should.

working with beomgyu usually goes smoothly, but you're exhausted. you're still incredibly sad for no reason, but being with him makes you feel less... empty? you would try to put a name to the feeling, but you're too tired to do so at the moment.

"want some coffee?" he asks as he watches you yawn for the umpteenth time since you've been here.

"please," you say sleepily. he smiles and gets up from the floor as you bury your head in your hands.

beomgyu has been in a relatively good mood since you've been here, and not just because it's his birthday. he can't explain why, but his mouth has pretty much been etched into a curve ever since you got here. he catches a glimpse of his smiling face in the mirror of his living room before opting to fix his hair a little, mindful of how he looks in front of you. when he does this, he feels a rough patch of skin behind his right ear. he's confused when he runs his fingers over it and feels grooves and lines where there shouldn't be.

he quickly pulls out his phone and takes a picture. what he sees horrifies him. a seal. it's pink and delicate, but has a complicated pattern he couldn't even begin to replicate. the day he's been dreading for years has finally come. he stares at the picture before shaking his head and ruffling his hair to cover it again. no. this changes nothing. he won't let this ruin his day — his life.

he moves to the kitchen and begins to prepare your coffee. when he reenters the living room, he hears you lightly snoring with your head resting on the coffee table. he smiles in spite of himself and places the coffee down. he wants to say you look peaceful, but your eyebrows are furrowed like there's something you can't quite figure out.

he chuckles softly to himself before subconsciously pushing your hair out of your face and behind your ear. that's when he sees it. pink like a blooming flower and as complicated in its pattern as the one on his head. he hurriedly pulls his phone out and compares the picture of his seal to the one behind your ear. he already knows, but he has to be completely sure. he's not surprised in the slightest when he comes to the conclusion that they are, indeed, the same.

-

when you awaken, you feel a pit in your stomach and you're genuinely on the verge of tears. someone would think you'd had a nightmare, but you hadn't. you're stuck in a whirlwind of emotions when you're snapped away from them by a soft baritone voice.

"you awake?" beomgyu asks.

"shit, i'm sorry!" you exclaim, wiping the drool off of your face and straightening up your hair. "how long has it been?"

"i dunno, an hour or two?" he says nonchalantly. you sense some resentment in his tone and you feel beyond apologetic.

"god, i'm so sorry. let's just finish this really quick and i'll get going. i'm sure you want to be done with this and celebrate your birthday," you say embarrassedly.

"i already finished it," he says, and even through your sleepiness, you feel his disdain.

"you... finished it? alone?"

"why? do you think i'm not capable of doing it by myself?"

"no! not at all! i just feel bad that you had to do it alone," you exclaim.

"well, it's done. so you can leave now," he says, not without urgency.

"leave? but i —" but what? but i wanted to spend more time with you? that doesn't sound right, but that's what you feel.

"you can leave now," he repeats with disgust that you can't quite understand.

"o-okay. i'll get my stuff and go, but shouldn't we review everything together just in case?"

"i have plans, so no," he says firmly. you have no idea why he's so angry. you want to say it's because he had to finish the project alone while you were knocked out and drooling on his coffee table, but it feels much deeper than that.

"thanks for finishing everything. again, i'm so sorry," you say as you gather your things and head for the door. beomgyu is ready to shut the door behind you when you look back to him and softly say "happy birthday, beoms." and the door slams shut.

-

when you get home, the first thing you do is cry. the pain in your heart is suffocating. you so badly want to know what it is that's causing this seemingly out of nowhere pain, but you can't put your finger on it to save your life. you decide to shower and have another good cry. after you shower, you look in the mirror as you twist your hair up in a towel. your fingertips rub against a rough patch behind your ear when you do so and you're stunned before you register what it is. you take a picture to get a better look at it, but you already kinda know what to expect: a seal.

it's more beautiful than you imagined it'd be, but instead of joy, all you feel is dread. but why? a seal is a happy thing. you should feel relieved to finally have it on you and he should, too. you ponder over this and come to the conclusion that it's not your pain you're feeling, but your soulmate's. you've heard about soulmates feeling each other's emotions before, though it was somewhat rare. the question is: why is he so sad? you don't know how, but you instinctively know it has to do with the seal appearing and it makes you drop to the bathroom floor in tears. this isn't how you wanted it to be. you clutch your chest, willing your heart to stop pounding so hard, but it doesn't.

-

beomgyu has been avoiding you, that much is clear. as to why that is, you have no idea. he used to greet you and strike up conversation, project be damned. you want to think about this more, but the depression you feel makes it hard to think clearly about, well, anything, really. you feel an emptiness you've never known before, and you can't help but feel like being with him would make it better. in a way, you're glad he finished the project alone because you're sure you wouldn't have been able to be much help at all.

when you walk into the class you share, his absence puts you at a loss you don't understand. you remember that soobin is yeonjun's partner and ask him if he knows anything about beomgyu's whereabouts. he shakes his head.

"i don't know the details, but yeonjun said he's been bummed ever since he got his seal."  ever since he got his seal? that means he must have gotten it recently, just like you. the cogs in your brain start to turn and you feel the dread in your stomach again.

"why?” you ask tentatively. 

"i dunno. i think he might not like his soulmate, but he won't talk about it any more than that," he shrugs. "hey, are you okay?"

you nod before touching the seal behind your ear. you feel another pang in your heart. what if... what if he has the same seal? what if... beomgyu is your soulmate?

-

after class, you practically sprint out of the room and to beomgyu's apartment. you pound on his door impatiently and when he doesn't answer, you pound even louder.

"what are you doing here?" he hisses when he swings the door open. you flinch a little, but you're determined to get some answers. you falter when you notice a girl, haphazardly dressed, appearing from behind him.

"who's this, beomie?" she says, voice silky smooth.

"kick rocks," he says simply. she shrugs and makes her way past you while fiddling with her clothes. you don't have to guess what they just got finished doing, and it hurts, hurts, hurts.

"who's that?" you say, eyes glassy.

"what are you doing here?" he asks again, actually a little embarrassed, but never showing an ounce of it. you storm into his apartment and he shuts the door behind you.

"show me your seal," you say determinedly.

"what? no," he answers defensively.

you reach for his long hair to lightly tuck it behind his pierced ears. he wants to stop you, but he can't bear the thought of batting away your hand. he hears you inhale a sharp breath as you see the pink seal behind his ear and he feels his chest becoming heavier and heavier.

"how long have you known?"

"since my birthday," he answers after a slight pause.

"and when were you gonna tell me?"

"probably never," he says truthfully. your hand drops to your side and he subconsciously misses the way your touch felt.

"why?"

"because... because i don't want a soulmate."

"what's so bad about me?" you ask as your lips tremble.

"it's not just you," he sighs. "i've never wanted a soulmate."

"then what's so bad about soulmates?"

"i just don't want one and you can't make me," he snaps and you wince, so he tries again. "look, you're a nice girl and everything, but it's never gonna happen between us, so you need to stop trying."

"even without the seal, i'd still have feelings for you. that's how much you mean to me." he looks a little taken aback by this, as if he never expected to hear those words from you or anyone, really, and it makes your heart ache. "can't you just give me a chance?" you look so earnest right now, but he's almost sadistically dedicated to squashing the sprout of hope that is almost certainly peeking out of you right now.

"no, i can't. you're not my type at all. if we weren't soulmates i'd never even look at you." he's lying but if he's not cruel now, he knows you'll never let go.

"but we are soulmates and you are looking at me right now."

"for god's sake, you're not hearing what i'm saying. i will never love you, alright? i tried to be nice about it but you keep pushing me. you look fucking pathetic right now."

your frown deepens, eyes reddened and hot. as a last ditch effort, you hurriedly say your next words.

"i can feel your pain," you whisper and his eyes widen. "i know you feel it every day. i know you're empty and you need somebody — why can't i be that person? i-i'll be whatever you need me to be." you've taken your heart and served it on a silver platter. all he has to do is hold it.

"because you're not what i need! you're not even what i want!"

the silence that follows will haunt him for the rest of his life. you look so small right now, so fragile. he almost wants to take everything back, but he remembers what soulmates mean and what they can do to a person. he looks at how vulnerable you are, how your heart is bleeding in front of him and how easily he can and will break it. he never wants to give anyone that power over him. no fucking way.

"i can feel your pain," you try again, and before he can reply you continue. "can you at least feel mine?" you look absolutely devastated with your eyebrows furrowed pleadingly, sobs racking your body. you look like you're going to be sick.

"i can't and i don't wanna," he answers flippantly with a shrug and a lopsided smile. "that's how much you mean to me." he knows exactly what to say and how to say it, the way only somebody who really knows you ever can. it's the final nail in the coffin for you. you will lock your heart for him in it and bury it as deep as it'll go.

"i've been waiting for you, you know? always. always." your eyes trail down to his hastily thrown on shirt and hickeys adorning his neck. at this, his jaw clenches and his eyes actually close in shame. you're not sure where your pain ends and his begins, but for the first time, you don't really care. a burning rage fills your heart and your dignity demands to be taken seriously for the first time. you're a doormat, sure, but you won't be anymore. not for him, anyway.

"i don't want to see you anymore. don't you ever fucking talk to me again," you finish and with a spin on your heel you're sprinting towards the door.

-

you are true to your word. when you walk into class after the entire debacle, you don't even spare him a glance. even if you can feel his gaze on you, you remain perfectly unfazed. he asked for this, he thinks. it's the way it should be. still, nothing really consoles him when he sees how tired you look. he can't feel your pain, but he can very well see it, and he wishes he could take it away. he regrets what he said to you, but he knows you'd never give up if he had given you even a sliver of a way out.

you're a good girl, though. a lot of people will come your way if you'll just let them. he feels a pang in his chest when he thinks about what they'll be like. he doesn't like to imagine it very much, but his thoughts wander that way more than he'd like to admit. he can't fathom anyone being good enough for you, really. especially not him.

do you feel the way he hates himself for the way he has to treat you? he doesn't know for sure, but he's pretty convinced when he sees you put your head in your hands, shoulders shaking. soobin quietly asks if you're alright before you bolt out of the room.

-

it's an end of the year house party thrown by soobin's new friend and former project partner, yeonjun. you truly, honest to god, do not want to go, but sumin really wants you to and you feel guilty because you're unsure when you'll see her again after graduation.

you sit almost catatonically as she does your hair and makeup, dressing you as if you're some kind of doll. when she's finished playing dress-up, you have to give credit where it's due. you look like a new person, but you can still feel the rotten old you underneath the shiny veneer, and it doesn't feel very good at all.

you're sitting in a circle, passing a blunt around when someone mentions him. it's innocuous enough, but you still flinch when you hear it. they joke about how he's probably upstairs getting his dick wet with some exchange student who's only here for a semester. you don't think that's true, if only because you can feel the pull and it feels so fucking lonely and isolated there can't possibly be anyone else around him, but it still hurts to hear all the same.

sumin gets blackout drunk fairly quickly, which is nothing new. what is new, however, is how you match her shot for shot and chug for chug. you know in your head that you should stop, but your heart keeps telling you to drown it, drown it, drown it until you can't feel the pull anymore. so you do.

-

"my god, you're drunk!" yeonjun exclaims when you're literally about to fall over and bust your head open.

"i'm not drunk, you're drunk!" you hiccup. he almost laughs before he sees you grip your stomach and gag. he thinks it's the alcohol, but in reality, you feel the loneliness beomgyu felt dissipating and you can only imagine what he's doing to cope. fuck, you didn't want to feel this.

"c'mon, girl. don't throw up here. let's go to the bathroom." he leads you up the stairs into some shitty bathroom that doesn't even have toilet paper. you kneel in front of the toilet and let yourself go, tears marring your carefully crafted makeup.

yeonjun gently grabs your loose hair and twists it into a makeshift ponytail. when he sweeps the last few strands from behind your ears, he sees it. all pretty and pink, ornate but unassuming. the seal you share with beomgyu.

"oh fuck," he says simply. you're drunk, too drunk, but even you know what he means.

"don't... don't look at it," you hiccup as a fresh wave of tears stream down your cheeks. "i want it gone," you whine, futilely scraping at it with your fingernails. in your head, you know it won't do anything. seals are permanent and even a tattoo couldn't cover it — it'd just resurface. in your aching heart, though, the thought of having beomgyu's matching seal makes you sick and you're willing to do almost anything to get it off of you.

"what the fuck is going on here?" a voice you'd recognize from anywhere emerges from the bathroom doorway. soobin. "what happened to you?!"

he's kneeling down to your level and wiping the mascara from under your eyes. yeonjun is still holding your hair back, so it's only a matter of time before the seal catches soobin's eye. it takes him a second to place where exactly he's seen it before, but once he does he murmurs a simple "oh shit."

you'd laugh at the similar reactions from the two boys if you felt anything other than misery at the moment. soobin grabs a rag from god knows where and wets it to tenderly brush around your lips. yeonjun tactfully lets go of your hair and escapes from the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. you sit in silence.

"you know, this is a really bad time," he begins awkwardly, "but i want to remind you that the seal stuff doesn't matter to me. i know it matters to you right now, and that's okay, but it doesn't have to be that way forever." it takes you a minute to really process what he's saying and understand the implication behind his words. once you finally do, you're shocked to say the very least.

"do you still like me when i'm like this?" you say, mouth agape, tongue still heavy from the vomit.

"i do," he replies simply.

"really?"

"really, really."

-

beomgyu knew you felt his pain as soon as you said it, but he didn't know to what extent until he hears you sobbing in the bathroom. the walls are paper thin and you're not exactly quiet, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't straining his ears to ensure he's catching every word. and catch every word he does — even the ones you exchange with soobin — the ones that pierce his heart, and yours, apparently, because you wail when you feel it.

-

being with soobin is simultaneously the hardest and the easiest thing you've ever done. he starts off slowly, as if he's afraid to break you even more than you're already broken. he's patient with you even when you're sad about a certain somebody, and never makes you feel guilty for it.

when you're bawling your eyes out one night and cancel your plans with him, you're surprised to hear a knock on your apartment door, anyway. you look through the peephole and see a familiar figure with a smile on his face. you hurriedly wipe the mascara from under your eyes and pull your hood up to cover your fucked up hair.

"what are you doing here?" you ask once you open the door.

"i was just in the neighborhood and thought you might want some ice cream," he says simply.

you snort. the "neighborhood" in question is a good 20 minutes from his apartment, but you don't ask any questions for fear that he might actually leave.

and so you sit on the living room floor with a movie playing in the background as white noise. you forgo the formalities and both of you are digging into a, frankly, alarmingly large tub of ice cream with nothing but two spoons. he pokes your reddened nose when you eventually start to drift off into space and remember your soulmate doesn't want you. he doesn't ask any questions, either. just boops your nose and you're back to reality and giggling at his childishness.

being with soobin is so easy, so comforting, that when he eventually asks you to be his girlfriend, you say yes.

-

on graduation day, beomgyu feels an excitement he sincerely did not anticipate. sure, he was happy to graduate, but he had no idea he'd be fucking elated. he has no clue why he's so ridiculously excited when he's honestly not even sure what he'll do after college, but when your name is called to collect your diploma and his heart is racing so fast he feels like it might explode, beomgyu comes to a damning realization: it's not his happiness he's feeling... it's yours.

the revelation is fully enforced when he sees you leaving the stage and hugging soobin. he feels your heart skipping a beat when he watches your fingers lacing with the other man's. he can't quite understand it, but the contentment you feel juxtaposes the sadness brewing inside of him. the sense that something is missing feels more palpable than ever. you walk off with soobin, swinging your interlocked hands while he gently brushes his thumb against your fingers. you don't look beomgyu's way even once, and his eyes start to burn when he realizes that image will forever be seared into his head. he has nobody to blame but himself.

-

beomgyu can feel your joy now and it makes him sick. he feels the butterflies in your stomach as you slow dance with soobin. feels your first kiss and the thrums of electricity permeating from your lips to your toes. he even feels your excitement before soobin makes love to you for the first time and the pure bliss that comes after. he feels it all and it's enough to make his stomach churn. he wonders if you can still feel his pain, and on some level, he hopes you do. maybe he's selfish, but it would serve as another reminder that he's bound to you and you to him. it doesn't feel like you can, though. how could you be so happy if you felt even a fraction of the weight on his chest? he's drowning every day and you're out playing first comes love then comes marriage with soobin. he's currently looking at your instagram from a burner account (you blocked him on his main) and he's trying to keep his pain tucked carefully behind his ribs, where his heart is, but it's constantly threatening to overcome him. you look different — not bad — just different. you're glowing now, it seems, and your hair is always down. he has a guess as to why that might be, and it pains him to think about it. this must be the yearning everyone, including you, had felt. he supposes he should be happy that you're happy, but he's never claimed to be a good person, and the sight of a picture of you planting a kiss on soobin's cheek is enough to twist the knife in his chest.

notes pt. 2: hi :,) i hope you all liked this one. if not, i'm sorry :,) my pacing is sooo bad but i'm working on it i swear ( ཀ͝ ∧ ཀ͝ ) feedback is always appreciated!! and yes, there will be a part 2.

[bulkyphrase]

Marvel Halloween Rec Week 2024 - Stucky Monday

Happy almost Halloween! I'll be doing rec lists all week, starting with my favorite spooky Stucky fics I've read this year.

Reliquary by afearsomecritter (Stucky, Mature, 2,695 words)

Summary: There was a ghost in the room.   The Soldier was fairly certain that it was the only one who could see it.

Are You Aware, Wolf? by leveragehunters (@leveragehunters) (Stucky, Teen And Up Audiences, 12,068 words)

Summary: Bucky's life was saved because he picked up the tab for a cup of coffee. He'd heard of people getting rewarded for good deeds, but that seemed way out of proportion. Sure, the life-saving came with a side order of being a werewolf, but since that was way better than being dead, he figured he could deal. Of course, that was before he learned about the vampires...

More below the cut!

Black Dog by leveragehunters (@leveragehunters) (Teen And Up Audiences, 55,340 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: So long ago the details were lost to time, people began creating guardians of the dead. They were made from dogs, dogs who were buried in graveyards before anyone was laid to rest, their spirits arising as black dogs, bound protectors of the human dead. Steve had always wondered what would happen after he died. He hadn't expected the answer to be 'wake up in the cemetery he'd been buried in', but here he was, some kind of ghost, and he could see the trees through his hands. It wasn't so bad, and he wasn't alone—a sleek black dog, golden eyes glowing bright, was happily waiting to greet him. Decades later, on what was supposed to be a quiet, peaceful, definitely-not-life-changing walk through the woods, Bucky stumbled across an abandoned cemetery and into the impossible. (It's a ghost story and a love story and a story about dogs.) Also available as a podfic read by attolia (@untowardsnark)

Werewolves in the Workplace by leveragehunters (@leveragehunters) (Stucky, Teen And Up Audiences, 45,109 words)

Summary: SHIELD was the only intelligence agency that assigned werewolf and vampire agents to work together in the field, but the program had been a staggering success. They compensated each other’s weaknesses, complemented each other’s strengths, and a werewolf could feed a vampire and shake off the effects faster than ordering a pizza. Bucky knew all that. What he didn't know was why this particular vampire, one Agent Steve Rogers, was holding out a protein bar. They were perched in the rafters of a warehouse, waiting for not-overly punctual arms dealers to show up and deal arms, had been stuck up here for a couple of hours, but none of that explained vampires suddenly offering snacks. In his near decade as a werewolf in SHIELD, Bucky had worked with a lot of vampires, and they all tended to be pretty much the same. Steve Rogers was different, didn't fit the vampire mould, and Bucky couldn't quite figure out why. Not that it really mattered. Steve was just someone he was occasionally paired with on SHIELD assignments. It wasn't like he was going to have any effect on Bucky's life.

Things That Are True by PottersPink (@potterspink) (Stucky, Mature, 5,405 words)

Summary: You think about how you haven't ever felt so alive for being dead.

Ghost of You by redsteele (@shrinkyclink) (Stucky, Mature, 20,013 words)

Summary: Bucky’s job was far from monotonous, but between his last mission being a complete bust and being taken off rotation for field work, he found himself with a lot more free time and little to do with it. But when strange events started to happen at SHIELD, he stumbled onto a conspiracy that could tear his whole world apart. Who was the man in the hospital gown that kept appearing out of nowhere? What was Shield hiding? And most importantly, who is Steve Rogers?

Sunshine in an empty place by seratonation (Stucky, General Audiences, 962 words)

Summary: They went for walks sometimes, but they never talk anymore. Not like they used to. Something was wrong with Steve and Bucky couldn’t figure out what it was.

If You Ever Did Believe by wearing_tearing (Stucky, Mature, 33,192 words)

Summary: Bucky Barnes will never die of a broken heart. The spell he cast at thirteen, in between white petals and whispered words of magic, makes sure of that. But then Bucky murders someone, conspires with his sister to hide the body, and meets Steve Rogers.

[eluxcastar]

One of Repetition — Prologue

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: your sudden dismissal from your position of harbinger, and the fatui as a whole, marks the end of the largest chapter in your life. you had never known a day without the tsaritsa's guidance, and you are set to never know another with it.

୨୧﹑genre :: angst

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader is a harbinger, reader has a pyro vision, capitano is still not human and I haven't played fontaine or natlan ngl, possible ooc, not proofread but lightly edited

୨୧﹑words :: 6.5k

it only took me forever and a day. it's finally here being rewritten this is gonna take so long updates WILL be slow so you're gonna have to bear with me

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

Her words left you exasperated, literally at a loss for words, and you struggled to comprehend the reason for it. There was nothing you could think of, no instance that struck you as prominent. Yet, somehow, as one of the Tsaritsa's children, you had become what any parent might refer to simply as a disappointment, their failure—the problem child who never quite ironed out their issues. You had always been faithful to her, hopelessly devoted to the archon and her will. News such as this came out of nowhere and struck you like a hammer to the chest.

Effective immediately, you are to be stripped of your title.

Two of her most mighty children were near and dear to her, and now the other had turned against you as he remains loyal to her. The Jester, who you once held in high regard, has turned against you. It is a bitter pill to swallow, for you must now sever ties with the one man you believed was truly deserving of serving the Tsaritsa. Your mother—your world—turns against you with him, before him, leading the way for him. 

In vain, you draw your bow to strike an arrow between his eyes. You have to prove your strength and power as above your position, above him, even with this weapon that disagrees with your armour, but it means nothing. Your strike is blocked, and the Tsarita's Damselette Columbina moves to detain you. You believe she would not be strong enough, but you don't itch to fight eight other Harbingers or their Director. You understand that even you have a limit, and fighting what are supposed to be the strongest people in the country is not a part of that.

Your honour is on the line, an honour which would tarnish not only Brighella's name but also have a ripple effect on your soldiers, men and women who fight for you and do not deserve the punishment that would result from their actions.

"Think carefully, Brighella." Columbina's warning is not lost on you. "You could remain as a hero or fight, and I will lure the creature you brought from the Abyss and gut him before your eyes."

You do not want that. That creature is not yet loyal to the Tsaritsa but to you, and she will convince him he can save you. He will fall into her trap and die because, for all that you have taught him, he is naïve.

You bite your lip, trying to think of a way to escape and capture him so that you can run off somewhere. He does not deserve to die, but you can't think of anything. Not when you know how thorough these people are. There is not a will, really; there is only a has. He has fallen into her trap and is at the mercy of the Damselette.

It suddenly makes an abundance of sense why your greatsword was missing this morning from where you discarded it on the floor of your chambers. Someone took it. They took it so you would appear before the Tsaritsa without your armour to carry your bow with you, taking advantage of your subordinate's absence to wander around so exposed.

You revealed your every weak point just as you were meant to because you are an arrogant creature of habit.

"What if I am to obey?" You finally ask the question you did not want to, surrendering in a way, though the bite has not left your words.

"I'll leave him be." Her answer is swift. She expected that you would eventually give in and only needed to wait for it to happen.

You shake your head, dissatisfied with only that as your compensation. "Not enough."

The smile on her face does not waver, thin and deceitful as ever, eyes hidden and closed, unseen behind the band of lace. "Mm. I can't bargain anything else." 

"Have him take my place." You lay your condition out firmly. There is only one to meet, and it is not a hard one at that. It would be easy to sway him into it, using whatever they plan to do to you as motivation. His loyalty and affection for you would make him accept it.

She ponders the situation and proposal momentarily, powerless to make the executive decision but undoubtedly keen on the thought of it all. "He believes that you are about to fall in battle to a foe and that he is going to save you."

You grit your teeth, knowing that this is her trap. Lure that creature to a place where he is vulnerable. It was not what you had expected, but it is no less the Damselette's style of acting. There is always a damsel, but perhaps she recognised that she would not suffice this time. She needed a better damsel for him to save; for that to work, it needed to be you. 

She needs your name, reputation, and your relationship with your subordinate. They meld with her lies to write a tale of tragedy, with him as the grief-stricken hero vowing to take his mentor's place.

The thought of him rushing to his death under the guise of saving you spikes your blood cold, chilling you. You're aware of her cruelty and always have been, but to experience it is different than hearing about it from her perspective. You are experiencing it from the perspective of the victim. 

His death was another factor to hold over your head—your penance—the anchor to force your compliance. Your blood boils with rage, but you cannot fight. Despite your anger and frustration, you know that lashing out will only cause further harm and pain.

There is only one thing you can do. You know you must. It's simply that you don't want to. 

But…you must. 

You must for him, that poor creature you tried to give a home to and who would never be in such a position if not for you and your ambition. 

"Then I will fall, and you will use the honour I built into him to persuade him." 

It was an honour meant to humanise him in a way, a being only able to imitate humanity. He had a mentor and something to fight for. Now you're imploring that it be used against him to burden him, but he will do well in your position.

Columbina smiles, that mocking smile like she knows the secrets of this world and more. "Would he really believe that?"

The helmet. You should use the helmet to your advantage. Your subordinate's first exposure to humanity being you, a woman in a metal helmet, seemed to last. He used to think that was what humans looked like, and he admitted as much to you as he had asked you to remove it once he could speak. Your impression left an indelible mark on him that he still treasures. Even if he were to see you in the aftermath, he would not uncover the lie.

"He has never seen my face. He would not recognise me."

Columbina accepts that readily, and her eyes open, pools of black and white visible through the cracks in the lace over her eyes. You've seen them before, inky black sclera and inhuman patterns decorating the borders of her irises, but you can't help the unsettled feeling that makes a home for itself in the pit of your stomach. 

-

By the evening, you are stripped of your honours, titles and coat and dumped to the curb like a bag of rubbish somebody left out. There is no more fight, no more bargaining, no more arguing. Everyone has the things they want, for the most part, so you are all satisfied enough to remain amicable with each other. Without a fight, you allow the Jester to remove the fur-lined overcoat despite the cold that rushes over you once it is gone and discarded in a heap of fur and fabric on the floor with none of its previous value. 

After that comes the slow, deliberate removal of every trinket that denoted you as you. From your delusion, several gifts to your very insignia, the only thing left of you is a lone pyro vision and the clothes on your back. You've never been more thankful to not wear a standard-issue uniform lest you be made to undress and hand that over, too.

That was it. Your everything.

With each piece of regalia taken, a part of yourself disappeared until you were left an empty husk of a person, your entire reason for being for hundreds of years snatched out from under you and spat on. Pierro allowed you the pity of dressing you in your weathered armour one last time to see you off, though he admits he cannot return the sword that goes with it.

The Harbingers were supposed to be the children of the Tsaritsa, and this was your grand disowning. A show of power and influence over her closest children and, by extension, the ability to bring pain to her lesser— to her followers. It was foolish of you to ever think you were special in her eyes for having been by her side since during the Archon War. 

What did it matter when she left you amongst the rest of them?

The years you spent since you had hobbled into her life so tiny and cute were now reduced to a few personal belongings and a set of words that shattered your world to sharp and dangerous pieces that would only hurt you in your haste to reassemble them and string your life back together.

Whatever should remain of yourself is torn away as if those things never belonged to you. Your memories are tossed down the drain by time, and the crown you thought sat firmly atop your head as Snezhnaya's spoiled princess is broken by the hurry to dismantle your power in its entirety.

When you were young, your cuteness may have been your best asset: a small body with endearing quirks and the inability to walk long distances without tumbling. You required your mother for everything because you would only find danger in the harsh Snezhnayan winters. To even acquire your own food was unthinkable, so you were sheltered and provided with ample treats that you could nibble from the palm of her hand if that were what you wished. Anything to keep you happy and content.

Like a little trinket, she cradled you for as many years as it took you to grow, and once you were at an age where you no longer needed to be cradled, she made you her loyal companion, or so you had believed. You thought her affection for you was unwavering. She was the only mother you had ever known; she is the only mother you will remember for all eternity.

Although it may have been an exaggeration, watching the sun's gradual descent below the horizon, you could almost believe eternity would quickly prove to be a very real concept. You watch the sky darken in silence for a time. You roam aimlessly around the city, your presence still striking unease in the people from the threatening demeanour you learned to conduct yourself with as a Harbinger, even without your official attire. The only remnant of your former self is a helmet you consistently wore during every public appearance strapped to your hip. 

You can't help your wandering mind. Did your imitation of the Tsaritsa's actions make you weak? Attempting to nurture someone in the same manner she nurtured you? You are not a god, only the former child of one. Maybe you cannot care for him and maintain your objectivity. He may have become your Achilles' heel, as you were forewarned when the Tsaritsa less than subtly suggested you eliminate him.

You cannot live like this.

No matter how many suns you watch set, you will never come to terms with living like this. The world you once knew, which revolved around a singular governing entity and individual, has disappeared without a trace. Without a central axis to anchor it in place, your world spirals chaotically out of control, with each passing second feeling more frenzied than the last.

This purposeless existence where you have no one to create meaning for you feels just as endless as your high on the rush of power once did.

Your head is too muddled, your brain too overwhelmed by your emotions to think objectively of the faults in your time as a Harbinger. Years of your life have been spent that way, burying your thoughts beneath a heavy weight of despair. Your life is over. Even as the woodlands are forced to welcome you, they mark the end of everything, embracing you in what could be your death, as you imagine it is meant to.

The conclusion of those years greets you with nothing but a cold, detached farewell you never expected. The years you spent dutifully carrying out your mother's will should've been concluded by a grand celebration or momentous occasion to mark the end. This is not how these things are supposed to go, but you can't say it's never happened before. Usually, you'd just kill Harbingers your mother no longer approved of. You might have the better side of things, even if your career is at the worst possible end.

You almost want to call those years wasted, but that would be wrong. Without the Tsaritsa, you might've— no, would've died during the Archon War. Perhaps another god would take you in, but it is unlikely that they would have exhibited the same level of compassion and generosity as the Tsaritsa. They would not have coddled you into comfort the way she did. Then again, what if that had been your downfall? Did she ever genuinely want you to stay? Based on this…perhaps you took her kindness for granted and overstayed your welcome.

You had no right to make demands of her in your final moments as her child, acting like a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum. But can you be justified? Can the threat to your subordinate's life negate that? Surely a bit, but not entirely, not if her actions were in response to yours. 

Oh, even if you begged on your knees, she would not take you back now.

Why had you not done that before?

She must be disappointed that your attitude was born from her compassion, the epitome of her failures. You do not deserve to call her your mother. You took her generosity as a guarantee, thought yourself above her other children solely because you were her first, and believed you were her favourite for no reason besides arrogance.

You have failed the only being in Teyvat willing to show pity toward you.

-

The deepest heart of Snezhnayan forest welcomes you readily with open arms and the gnashing jaws of monsters starving for food. The forest seems to come alive with a vicious hunger for flesh. You have only your vision and bow left to aid your defence as you shrug off part of your armour to delegate it to the ties on your hip that secure your helmet.

Your delusion is gone, and your subordinates are nowhere to be found to assist you. The danger is to be braved alone for the first time in what must be forever. Despite this, marking your way with a trail of bodies is easy. It is just an inconvenience to always be on guard, but you are strangely used to it. Your life has been spent that way. Being on guard is what keeps you alive on long expeditions, at night when your lessers slept under your watch, in the depths of the Abyss where it is the only thing stopping the resilient from dropping like flies.

The cold is numbing as the air hits your face, your fingers almost wholly without a sensation of touch and even a tingle in your toes. Your vision emits warmth like a stone of fire seeping into your bones to chase the chill away. It nearly suffocates your fingers each time you press your hand to it, hoping to glean some heat from it.

You spent many missions that way, tensed and expecting violence at any moment, hardly allowing yourself to sleep, let alone relax. Despite so many things changing, you are just as high-strung as you used to be. It feels like nothing has changed in that respect, but you know everything has. You cannot hear the large crackling bonfire or the pattering of footsteps in the snow as your subordinates come to join you, their laughter and chatter and their whispers to each other.

While everything falls apart around you, you freeze as if that is the only thing keeping you together, even knowing that nothing will remain once you finally let go. Breathing is difficult, and so is thinking, but you'd rather not think at all. You want to pretend you'll look across the clearing you wander through and see that creature eagerly waiting, so safe and out of every hand that might harm him.

There is a fragile little balance of land around you that slowly crumbles away piece by piece as it encroaches upon the section that keeps you afloat without regard for where you're supposed to stand when the last of it falls from under your feet. Eventually, you'll have nothing left beneath you.

If there is a time when the only part of what was is yourself, you must protect that no matter what it does to you. You have to maintain the same rigid ways you've always stuck to. Those are the last parts of you made by your mother; those are the last parts of yourself you can trust for as long as you can't trust yourself.

The stark silence is deafening to your ears.

-

On the seventh night, you pass through a village on the outskirts of Snezhnaya, where you first catch wind of the news you had agreed on.

The locals informed you that they had recently halted their work for half a day in honour of your passing, believing that you had been slain in battle, though they are just as unaware as everyone else you've passed that they're talking to the person they believe to be dead. Hearing the story that the Jester spoon-fed the public to explain your disappearance makes it feel a touch more real, the consequences of your obedience stinging in a way you didn't expect. You cannot claim it to be a sick joke when it has had time to reach the smaller villages.

Even when that information would naturally spread like wildfire, the thought that it has come to be known by the nation solidifies the death of Brighella.

In a way, she really is dead.

You're the only one still standing here.

You find what can only be a wayward adventurer not far from the town, engaging a wild boar in combat, brandishing a blade at the beast as it snarls back at him and prepares to rush toward him. He faces it with the heavy hand of experience steadying his grip, ending the boar in a swift movement of his blade that matches the work of his feet to jostle him out of its path.

"Good morning," you greet him after a moment, arms folding over your chest as you watch him poke at the boar with the tip of his sword. "Strike it through the back of its neck. It'll die quickly."

"And painfully," he scoffs back, yet his foot steadies the boar nonetheless, and it is out of its misery by the final stab.

You break away from the spot that had glued you to the ground, approaching the man and his kill to assess the job as if on instinct. "Good work," you tell him without really thinking.

"You think so?" he questions. His eyes focus on you instantly, watching you inspect the boar with a curious gleam. You offer a curt nod. He stares as if waiting to be appraised in precisely the same manner you do a dead animal, weary enough not to sheath his blade. "You really think it's smart to walk around like that?" he asks after a few seconds.

"Why?" you ask, absently poking at the boar. You half expect it will spring back to life and knock the both of you flat on your asses, yet it never does.

He hesitates for the first time since you first saw him, opening his mouth to speak before reconsidering and pressing his lips into a thin line. He catches his breath. "The armour," he begins. "It..."

"It...?" You don't recall ever meeting him before, though it is not uncommon that adventurers know what you look like. You travel so much that it's hardly unusual that people catch glimpses of you, and never forget the Harbinger dressed in the old armour of the guards of Zapolyarny.

It is not unthinkable for a man used to being at odds with Fatui soldiers would recall what might be the most royal pain in his ass.

"A Harbinger was slain," he continues, gaze wandering away. "A Harbinger dressed in armour. I mean, people wear armour all the time, but that set..."

You quirk an eyebrow at such an awkward explanation. It's an accusation he doesn't dare make for its boldness, but he cannot deny it when he considers it for himself. "You recognise it?" you question.

"Something similar. From when Brighella was in Sumeru," he confirms. "I may have been a child, but I recognise it anywhere. Most people have armour custom made to fit them, but yours..."

"Someone else's," you finish for him.

That is technically true regardless. Even as Brighella, the armour was stolen. You vaguely recall the story, but you took it from the stores, assuming it belonged to a guard who no longer had use for it. It should've been the property of a grown man, but you have always accounted for the pinching and awkward proportions. You had to grow into it and didn't grow quite enough.

"You're asking if I killed her," you conclude, though that is an equally bold assumption.

He pauses, weariness in his eyes at the thought, but shakes his head. "That would be a bit presumptuous," he responds. "I just wondered if you really thought it was smart to wander around in armour that looks so much like hers."

"Perhaps not," you admit, swallow your pride to allow that much. "It might be smarter to get some clothes from a market."

"New armour wouldn't hurt," he adds. "You're travelling to...?" he trails off, briefly glancing up as if to seek your appearance for the answer. "Not the heart of Snezhnaya, I hope."

"Fontaine," you answer. "It's the first trail south."

"I'm sure you'll find both of those things there," he says. He offers a slight smile despite the circumstances, an unspoken reliving of the tension you realise lingered on past the point you expected it to.

A part of you knows that he makes that presumptuous assumption. He suspects that you have killed the reigning tyrant but says nothing, perhaps out of relief at the possibility you did. Snezhnaya finds liberation in your slaying. A weight has lifted in your absence that they are not yet allowing themselves to get used to out of fear that you might return. It's as if everyone holds their breath for the news that you resurfaced from the Abyss and were merely lost to a chasm in the world.

You know that news will never come.

Now, the armour that once protected you as a Harbinger will stand as a triumphant emblem of your hard-won victory over Brighella and the end of the Harbinger's tyrannical hold over the land. Even knowing that he is right and it is unwise to wander clad in your old armour, you can't let it go. You are glad it is still yours. Pierro granted it to you, and you didn't care to ask why when it felt as though you were watching your comrades through the eyes of your younger self five hundred years ago. Through danger, you will keep it close, treasuring it always as a tangible reminder of the sacrifices you made to reach this pivotal moment. 

You slayed Brighella. You ended the Harbinger's tyranny.

Brighella is dead.

Though there is no truth to it, you take responsibility for the Harbinger's slaying at the first gasp of a wayward adventurer recognising it. You grasp it as your singular piece of this life—your trophy. It is the first fragment of your new self.

If you didn't know better, you would think you were getting a little too far into it and starting to believe it yourself.

-

By the eleventh night, you find yourself situated in an inn, and the nights only carry on from there all the way up to the twenty-second night since your abrupt dismissal and, to the rest of the world, your supposed demise. The sigh of relief finally sounds, if a tad reserved. Snezhnaya collectively agrees that Brighella is dead enough to think they might have escaped her thumb, even if they aren't wholly convinced that she could really be dead.

The whispers that once revolved around Brighella's defeat now shifted to speculations regarding her successor. The question was not necessarily who, but who could possibly? Her brutal reign as a Harbinger had instilled fear in the hearts of all who crossed her path; in the minds of the people, no one else could measure up to her sheer terror-inducing presence.

Nobody knows what happened once they dared to fight Brighella until now. She was the first of the Tsaritsa's children, and she was the most combat-heavy. No one wished to cross her except for the rumoured contender for her throne, who was spoken of in hushed tones, as nobody was eager to have their reverence for whoever was bold enough to reach the wrong ears.

Your achievements find their place amongst the rumours as people say that Brighella's killer stole her armour and wears it as her trophy.

Despite the slew of gossip that its patrons indulge in, you enjoy the quaintness of this bar made and run by travellers who use it like a pitstop to rest and recuperate. It is a home to them, along with adventurers and merchants who benefit from the atmosphere. The people are strangers, often reserved and eager to keep to themselves, but have an immeasurable wealth of information that spills with a few drinks and a group of acquaintances who are, for only one night of pleasure and indulgence, their lifelong friends.

Among those friends buried in your own tankard of cheap ale, you laugh along with their jokes and entertain their questions like a test of your ability to lie and improvise in this tale you're making for yourself. If they have names, you don't know them. Brighella's death was a glorious battle but isolated to the hills where you were alone.

"Brighella was alone, and they were weakened by prior injury. I don't know what caused it." You mix a dash of the speculations in, downplaying your strength as you're unwilling to expose too much of it. "I'm not one to miss an opportunity. When would it arise again?"

One of your new acquaintances scoffs, amused but no less aware of the dangers of doing such a thing. "And make an enemy of the Fatui?" He is a new graduate of the Sumeru Akademiya who's come to make his way through Snezhnaya for a job offer. Reminds you of someone else, minus the graduating.

"They will not miss her." You are quick to answer—too quick, arguably—as it draws a sliver of attention before dipping back under the radar as a product of your confidence. "Her 'head' makes too cute a decoration on my side to pass up stealing it."

"I wouldn't dare say such a thing. Fatuus comes here sometimes." They are the words of a Snezhnayan native raised to worship the Fatui, though he is somewhat disillusioned by their crimes and cruelty, as you've learned many are.

"Let them hear it!" Your laughter is boisterous and unabashed. "They'll see the armour anyway. They probably despise her like everyone else."

Another one of your new friends, a travelling merchant from Fontaine, interjects your ravings to add only a passing comment. It was as she had done all evening, her secrets locked up tight. "She did not make herself likeable."

"She was not meant to be likeable but a fearsome warrior." Again, the Snezhnayan man rebuts the criticism against her as he had been doing all evening.

"You don't have to get so far up her ass, Brighella's not gonna crawl out of her grave and thank you for it."

"You're so vulgar."

You plant your tankard firmly on the table between the four of you, leaning over it to close the distance between you and the man. "I'm not meant to be likeable either."

Forget being only a little too into the role. You're revelling in the freedom of this new identity of yours.

Quick to disperse the tension, your graduate friend changes the topic without a hint of hesitance in his voice. "They left an underling people believe will take their place. It's a surprise to think Brighella had someone who followed them with such…devotion."

It seems they finally figured out who might take Brighella's place in the grand scheme of things, and the rumours say there is only one candidate.

The creature wearing the face of a man she brought home from the Abyss.

"It's strange but not impossible." The merchant from Fontaine again, contributing nothing you weren't all already thinking.

"Could she have had a sentimental side?"

"Who cares if she had a sentimental side?"

"Upset the attention isn't on you anymore?"

Anger crosses your face, but you stifle it as quickly as it appears. You wish their attention was off of you, really. The former you, maybe, but you nonetheless. You want to know about your subordinate. What happened to your second in command? You don't care to hear their speculation as to whether you were or were not particularly emotional with your underlings. You know the answers to all of those questions and more without their guessing games.

"Regardless of the reason, they say the underlying is much easier to swallow than she is, so maybe the position of First Harbinger will change drastically if he takes it." 

"Would he really change its purpose if he was so loyal?"

"Unintentionally, perhaps."

Gods, these people are so dull. Just by listening to them, you can tell they know nothing about the ways of the Fatui. Harbingers are not individual job positions with specific parameters. Each role is its own, and they are moulded by the person who assumes them like a character in a play, enchanting and unsettling in a horrific mix of theatrics and violence. It is what they stand for. One does not assume the role and become an actor with a script. They must improvise and act on a whim to the beat of the Tsaritsaʼs drum, their life no longer their own.

They are not whatever these ramblings and poor excuses for speculations make them out to be.

"Terribly misinformed, aren't they?" In your ear is the low voice of the Snezhnayan man holding in his laughter at the two as the scholar and the merchant go back and forth. You watch them with a sharp gaze that almost borders a glare, bored of their squabbles and misconceptions.

You glance to your left, where he has leaned closer to you. You eye the way he tilts in his seat, his hand resting on the table. "Repulsively," you respond curtly.

He has a faint glint of satisfaction in his eye as you seem to have confirmed something. "I thought you might've been from Snezhnaya." 

Your eyes narrow at his conclusion, though it is the truth. You don't trust the gleam in his eyes or the way his gaze fixes between you and the helmet secured to your hip. "So what if I am?" you question lowly.

"It was only an observation."

In the background, the main conversation continues, just as clumsy as before you had tuned it out in favour of drinking some more. "Does this mean he will also be named Brighella?"

Straightening back in his seat, the man swiftly interjected their back-and-forth responses to explain to them. "They receive a unique title upon their promotion, and nobody knows what it is until then." A simple enough concept to understand.

"In other words, anything but Brighella."

"It hasn't been long enough to know yet."

"It's strange. Nobody knows his name even now."

That would probably be because you never gave him one.

You considered it in the years you spent with him but couldn't find one you liked. His name was inhuman, not for your ears and not for your tongue, rendering it useless to you and everyone else who would hear it. The night you found him was spent crowded around a bonfire listing off every suggestion you and your subordinates could think of to no avail, as he only sat quietly by your side and said little about any of these choices, finding no familiarity in any of them. That's only natural, you suppose. 

You still haven't chosen a name for yourself that isn't Brighella, either. Your old one is well and truly forgotten, with the years eroding your memories. It had been centuries since you had been called anything else. Evidently, picking names is not your forte. 

"As far as I've heard, nobody knows what it is."

You find the mention of your subordinate has completely ruined your mood. You are grateful the creature is alive but worried the knowledge you're snooping around to find out when he will be promoted could land you in trouble. It's troubling enough to wonder if he has heard your tales through the grapevine about how you had supposedly 'killed' Brighella—his mistress and mentor—which he would not be happy about.

Though you did not fear the creature before, now that you've personally trained him to understand human combat, you're not so sure you'd want to fight him. It would be a hassle. Unlike many, you do not fear the inhumanity of the Doctor or the stone wall called the Jester. Even the cunning Damselette struggles to do more than unsettle you, but you respect that creature's raw strength and understand that no matter what you do, it doesn't matter. You are confined to a human form, and he is not.

You lied when he said he wouldn't recognise you, however. You don't actually know if he would.

You don't know the extent to which his eyes can pick out the details in your appearance that aren't physical. Had he memorised your relative build? Your height? The way you carry yourself and your mannerisms? The thought unnerves you, but so does everything else about him.

"I'm turning in for the night," you declare to the table with a knock of your cup as you slam it down.

Without regard for the ongoing conversation, you announce your intentions and abruptly shut down whatever is being said at the time without much care for it. Whatever it is, it isn't important. Your unfinished drink is left behind as you make your way to your quarters.

In retrospect, you understand their eagerness to merely cover up the circumstances of your dismissal. For a Harbinger as feared as Brighella, it is easier to halt work for a mere half-day rather than attempt to contain the resulting fallout of admitting one of their own was inadequate while simultaneously preserving their tenuous hold on power.

You drop to your bed with far too much faith in it and already regret the potent scent of alcohol on your breath that addles your mind and forces you to wander back to your betrayal. There's not much else you can call it.

Even as you try to squeeze your eyes shut and vanish the image from your tired mind, the confusion lingers against your will. You thought you were your mother's lucky charm. You had been so since the Archon War, to your knowledge, but you lost many of your fragile memories to the sands of time. Something changed while you weren't looking, and her gaze shifted from you to her goals.

Nobody won.

Nobody won...

You have always wondered what she met. You thought it was because the people were at a point of unrest you feared they wouldn't return from, but no one is left to remember the old gods now. You are instead struck by the ghost of your own blindness. You had ventured to the Abyss so many times and lived for so many years that you fell out of touch with her in a way. Even as you did everything to preserve her love for you, it disappeared.

It couldn't have happened in an instant.

You just don't know when it started or at what point it ended, both of which gnaw at your mind incessantly like a parasite that threatens to consume you whole. You dwell on what may never be answered in an attempt to understand something that cannot be understood. You have never been good at avoiding the bad habits of chasing ghosts, even if you fooled yourself into believing otherwise.

Each passing day forces you to wonder if it has anything to do with the many people who died under your command or were distorted by the Abyss during your expeditions. You struggle to imagine it has anything to do with anyone but yourself. You thought you were exactly who she wanted you to be, but perhaps you weren't. Whatever the reason, it escapes you.

You pile your armour off and leave it beside the bed with a touch more respect than you've ever had for it; your helmet carefully stands on the nightstand where you hope it does not fall and collapse back into the bed, eager to escape such vision of before.

You have no desire to remember the days when your hands were smaller, and you could barely reach the handles on the palace doors or fit your suit of armour. Those were the days you never once doubted her affection, though you feared she was pulling away. You looked into the eyes of a weathered old man and saw competition where he mourned his fallen nation as he was forced to linger in a world ruled by the very gods that had caused it to crumble.

You never understood his weakness. By then, though small, you had forgotten what it felt like to be an ant on the mountain where gods battled.