#also you can tell i focus on den more but that's kind of the point ig. it's more from his pov

[nordickies]

I kindly request more NedDen content because I miss them. I know you’ve drawn them before but how would you interpreter their relationship (platonic or romantic)? I was in Amsterdam last year and I feel like they’d be the kind of couple that would just bike everywhere together.

They definitely would bike everywhere! I think the "unexpected" cultural similarities they share are precious and something that bonds them so exceptionally well. And since they get mixed up in many corners of the world, they feel even more alike. When someone they're not too familiar with wants to talk with Ned, they somehow always go up to Den first, and he has to remind them he's not the same guy.

They have known each other from a very early age, but perhaps their paths didn't cross until their later teenage years when their respective countries started to work together more. And cooperation started to get even more extensive after the Dutch Republic gained independence from Spain and the Holy Roman Empire. I think their relationship was purely professional in the beginning since both of them are rather work-oriented personas. Still, over time, it evolved naturally to something more meaningful for both.

I like to think that when Denmark's relationship with Sweden, or even Norway, was strained due to conflicting interests, he'd turn to Ned to ease his frustrations and loneliness. In a way, being with his colleague-turned-friend was like a breather from all the family drama, and the company started to mean a lot more to the Dane; he felt better understood, and someone listened to what he had to say. As they started to work along more often, Den began to look up to Ned, almost wanting to impress him. Netherlands and his country represented something Den should strive towards, too. He'd listen to Ned's stories and lessons so intrigued. I can imagine poor Norway just shaking his head when Den comes back home, his head full of new grandiose ideas and constantly quoting stuff he has clearly heard from Ned, thinking he sounds so intellectual.

But I also think Den relied on Ned not only as an ally but as a source of comfort, too. Whenever Den was going through a rough time, he'd find himself longing to be with Ned, doing the stupid things they always do, and getting a break from all the unpleasant work. But Ned is rather ambitious, never settling in one place for too long. He's always got one foot out the door, ready to seek new waters and adventures when they call him. He had way more going on in his life than Den was even aware of. Fortunately, Ned would always return home and share tales about the places he had been to, keeping Den entertained for hours. Even though Denmark is curious about Ned's travels to, e.g. Japan, it always crushed him a bit, knowing Ned had other important people he could open up to, and he didn't rely on Den as much as he did on his Dutch friend. But Ned would probably disagree if he heard that; he wouldn't return home and see Denmark as soon as possible if he didn't find him somewhat meaningful.��

The Netherlands, as serious as he may seem, really likes Denmark - the admiration isn't purely one-sided. The Dane can be full of energy and willpower, but he's sincere. Den has an evident passion for the things he cares about, and he isn't letting others discourage him from achieving his goals, no matter how silly or insignificant they may be to people. Denmark is never boring, and for Ned, who always expects variety in his life, it's an appreciated trait. Ned always admired Den's persistence; if he were frustrated at his peers about things not going as he had initially planned, Den would just storm off and tell everyone to screw themselves, which Ned would find hilarious - though, for some reason, he was the only one in the room laughing about it.

They're good friends who always support and inspire each other - offering a break from the more complicated and messy nature of their existence. But at some point, their friendship took a turn, and they started hooking up. I don't think they had ever intended things to go that way or even continue after their first experiment, but somehow, they often find themselves in each other's company in the late hours of the night when both feel lonely and starved. Their fling, if you can even really call it that, probably began from innocent experimenting. It was perhaps just harmless fun, exploring new sides of themselves with a safe and understanding person; maybe they weren't all that experienced or even comfortable with their identity at that point. But it has always been kind of an unspoken rule between them. They're friends, and bringing up anything more complicated than that would just make things awkward. When they hook up, they have fun, but they won't really talk about it the next day. They just continue with their lives - until it inevitably happens again.

That's how they thrive, being friends first and foremost but also making sure the other gets laid. They strike me as a pair who just like having fun together, regarding all aspects of life. They release their stress by being idiots because they don't know how to talk. When they hang out, they can feel liberated and unpoetically themselves. They're on the same brain wavelength, almost managing to guess when the other is about to call them. "I've had an awful week, let's go get wasted" sort of friendship. They use outdated slang and terms while listening to music the younger generation doesn't understand. They watch sports together and debate about trivial topics. Spend the warm summer nights on terraces, drinking and smoking too much for their own good. But they can also get surprisingly deep and philosophical at times, whether or not they actually misuse substances. It's not unheard of for either Den or Ned to get outlandish ideas out of nowhere, like traveling through the entire continent on bikes - to which the other is immediately on board! They're very impulsive and feed into each other's madness, which may not always be a good thing.

And perhaps that's one of the reasons why they have never desired to make their thing official. Deep down, they both know they'd never last anyway, so neither of them even seeks to make it more serious than it is. They're content with their situation and don't want to ruin their friendship. But I feel like Denmark would be more sentimental and affectionate of the pair, and he can't help but sometimes feel empty afterward, wondering if they should actually talk about these things between them for once?

But those are just my thoughts - how I like interpreting their relationship. There's tons of reference material for these two, so anything can happen! The Netherlands has historically been one of Denmark's most important allies, with long traditions of trade and cooperation. I think there are lots of historical factors that could be interesting to explore but maybe some other time!

[burningsuitfire]

Essek and religious trauma

Saw this post from @balleater here and having been meaning to write a meta on the subject, theorizing about what we know.

Essek admits to being seriously traumatized when Caleb talks to him in the Grove.

(141) Caleb: Somewhat hypocritical coming from me, but try to be kind to yourself.  Essek: You, more than anyone, showed me that trauma doesn't define you.

The simplest conclusion is religious trauma, along with neglect and abandonment.

In the wrap-up Matt puts serious emphasis on Essek's parents and family being "very deeply steeped" in the religious culture alongside how Essek has "very much eschewed" the religious culture, that no one has ever genuinely cared about Essek beyond his influence and talent, that his family didn't understand or support his focus on dunamantic research (or his career), and draws clear lines about the negative aspects of Dynasty's theocratic authoritarianism and uncompromising cultural zealotry, at points Mercer even compares it to evangelicalism and doomsday cults.

He also gives us hints that it's a bad situation for anyone who doesn't follow the official faith, like in Eiselcross when Caleb asks questions about the mandated religion and Kryn theories on the beacons:

(124) Essek: It is an interesting idea, though I would caution to keep it close to the chest. Such conversations might be considered sacrilege in some circles of the Dynasty.

Which as word of god tells us Essek had a very bad relationship with his powerful authoritarian den family that didn't understand him or his goals, and he grew up in the Bastion (which is a temple to the Luxon), when the Dynasty laws are founded on the faith and enforced by the military:

(EGtW) The laws of the dynasty, which stem from the faith of the Luxon, are enforced by a network of trusted Aurora Watch captains and soldiers

To the point where Matt emphasized how even petty criminals in the prison were systematically "beaten and emaciated", sacrilege could have ugly consequences, even growing up.

Especially considering that all we know of his father is that he seemed to have a temper to the point of extremely self-destructive tendencies, and that he was possibly military and thus law enforcement (warriors function as both in the Dynasty).

Even in the dinner conversation when he was being outstandingly open, Essek was very careful not to tell the nein anything that could allow other Kryn to question his faith:

Marisha: So his lying about it [consecution] was just about going along with the zealotry and not- Matt: Exactly, because he didn't want people to think that there was something up.

And then there's Essek's massive trust problems, which are specifically focused on the word "trust":

(131) Caleb: We feel we can trust you more than my old teacher. (You see, when you say the word "trust". It's simultaneously like seeing a small hit to the heart... and whatever icy bit that cracked melts away for a minute. There's a moment of him hearing the word and letting it wash over him.) Essek: I'm thankful for the trust you put in me. And I hope to make this up to you.

(124) Essek: I've never really been trusted and so I did not trust. When I- when you gave me trust, it gave me a perspective that was so agonizingly striking. So easy to see that I refused to acknowledge it at first, even. (135) Essek: The more I begin to see Beauregard, yourself return with these markings- I've only just recently learned to trust. It's hard to begin to mistrust so quickly.

Where there's a theory that it might stem from the Dynasty's training for echo knights and dunamancers (when we've heard Essek tell Caleb that the training is comparable to that of scourgers), and we even see the echo knight in Zadash react very strongly to the word "trust":

(13) Mollymauk: We just need to know who we can trust and who we can't.  Thuron: You cannot trust anybody in this city. You cannot trust yourselves. Anyone who has not bound themselves. They are the enemy.

Other context and info gives us that consecution and worshipping the Luxon and following the umavi-written "system of pure faith" created from their interpretation of the beacons (as EGtW dictates the Luxon is canonically silent and unconscious) is required for people to hold Dynasty political/spiritual/military office and influence, to work for the theocratic government (comprised of the 12 noble religious den families), and that dunamancy and the Dynasty's dunamis research is only accessible to those working for the government.

And it seems like Essek hints at unattractive consequences to others discovering he's been lying about his faith (and/or the dangerous nature of his career):

(131) Essek: I just know that I've also survived this long, weaving the intricacies of deceit like I have, by knowing how best to keep myself out of the complications as best as I can.

Finally, we have Essek's relationship with punishment and pain, alongside the Dynasty's systematic religious corporal punishment:

(57) In the shadows there look to be multiple figures. Some human, some ogre-ish with more reinforced bars, drow. Emaciated, beaten. Not looking happy and healthy, but then again, what good Dungeon of Penance would?

(77) ...days of chosen sunlight in which the nightfall is dispelled and the people of Rosohna and Xhorhas bask in the sun. Even those who find pain and challenge in its presence, as it is part of the worship. (EGtW) The Kryn drow who emerged from the shadowed depths of the caverns beneath Xhorhas now endure periods of sunlight as part of their worship. Periods of days, sometimes weeks, will transpire in a state of perpetual evening, enabling the darkness-bound denizens to go about their work. Such periods briefly come to an end to usher in periods of scheduled, mass worship under the sunlight.

(99) Essek: I will take my leave for the night. Thank you for not throwing me into the water. (97) Essek: The pain is somewhat comforting because I am my own punishment. (91) Essek: I have seen those far older than you that have experienced maybe half the pain I see in your eyes. Age isn't everything. Experience is what hardens you, prepares you for the worst. (138) Beau: My essence will haunt you. Essek: And I would deserve it, like I deserve all of the things that haunt me. Jester: Aw, Essek... Essek: Don't- offer me any solace. (141) Essek: Maybe it's time I just found my way. Really began my penance. I've procrastinated long enough in dealing with my sins. I convinced myself I'd be alone for so much of my life. It's hard to say goodbye when I don't feel alone anymore, but… I understand. I understand and accept what I've done.

[elfen-alcibiade]

Hi Alcibiade! 💖 I'm glad that you are interested in collaborating with me! Honestly, I don't have any concrete ideas at the moment, but the mention that you can draw either Touhou- or Danganronpa-related line drawings reminded me of the one I've been secretly working on in my head about Hajime and Nagito getting lost in Gensokyo. Not that there's anything specific idea that I want you to draw, but I thought it might be interesting to share some ideas about it, so I'll write some down here.

First of all, this type of story is called "幻想入り(Gensou-iri)" in Japanese fandom, and it is one of the themes that has been the subject of a lot of fan creation. For example, there are many stories about video game characters who got lost in Gensokyo, such as Kirby, Zelda, or characters from Final Fantasy. In fact, it is canon that people from the outside world can wander into Gensokyo, so it is easy to imagine this kind of story.

Anyway, the reason I fantasize about Hajime and Nagito going to Gensokyo is because I want to see Nagito play a game of Japanese gambling with Youkai. XD There is a character who first appeared in TH18, a Youkai named Sannyo Komakusa, who runs a gambling den on Youkai Mountain. While the den isn't described in much detail in the game, it's depicted in Lotus Eaters, one of the official manga. I imagine Hajime would be very cautious around the Youkai, but Nagito would fearlessly accept the Youkai's challenge to a game of chance in Sannyo's gambling den. He would then draw in more and more Youkai, who would be amazed by his extraordinary luck. Later, at a banquet at the Hakurei Shrine, Reimu (she is also lucky!) and Nagito would face off in a game of chance, having a great time late into the night. By the time they wake up, Hajime and Nagito will have returned to their world... And that’s the story I have in mind.

I have other little ideas, like Mamizou (one of the Youkai from the outside world) saying "I know a lot about the outside world" and getting involved with Hajime and Nagito but the knowledge she has is so outdated that Hajime gets confused, and Aya being amused by Nagito's good luck and offering to interview him, and many other ideas. At the moment I am not writing down any specific ideas or drawing anything, but I would like to put aside the background of how it happened, etc., but I would like to draw just the gambling scene at some point.

Sorry if my story seems a bit all over the place. X( I'm sure there are all kinds of fun things we can do together, and I'll send you another message if I come up with any good ideas! Have a great day! 🫶💕

Hi Asaka! 🥰

Thank you for sharing so many great ideas with me!!🥹💕 I'm not sure if you wanted me to keep them all to myself or not, so please tell me if you want me to take down this answer ^^" it was a pleasure to read the stories you had in mind, and I wanted to respond when I could take the time to pull the best response possible out of my mind !

It's true that there are all kinds of things we can do together, so please don't hesitate to send another message if you have anything in mind! But I also really like the ideas you mentioned here, and I'm excited by these Gensou-iri stories because this way, we can gather different interests we have in common! :)

The gambling scene looks very inspiring, so I'm not surprised to learn that you wanted to draw it! I think that the two other stories you mention, one with Aya and one with Mamizou, seem both easier and harder to create for us together right now: easier because I completely see how they could be written as relatively small and independant (yet related!) comics, but also harder because you can't really "reduce" them to a small drawing that we could make together as a starting point, I think. But I really like them nonetheless!

So I decided to focus on the gambling scene with Reimu, if it's ok for you. It took me ages to respond to this ask, because I kept asking myself how I should proceed! At first, I thought that I had to do half of the drawing and then lend it to you, but I realized that it would have been frustrating to you to just fill the empty space without having your word in the process :c So I had another idea: I just give you this drawing of Reimu defying a blank space (for now!) and you do absolutely whatever you want with it (you can add all the colors or shadows you want, add the setting, you can add Nagito and Hajime... it's up to you!) and then you give it back to me, and I can add other things if you left space, or do the color, or anything really. This way, you can do whatever you want and if there are things that you wanted me to do, you just have to leave the space and I can do it afterwards ^^ I thought about drawing Hajime and Nagito myself to give you a more finished drawing, but I thought that maybe you would have liked to draw them yourself. 😊💖 Anyway, let me know what you think of this idea :) and please feel free to modify everything you want to!

( I figured that drawing Reimu this way was a good compromise between your style and mine, because it gives me the opportunity to have fun with the composition like I’m used to, without having you cornered into a particular perspective or composition yourself. I hope you like it ! Because I don’t know a thing about japanese gambling games, I’ll let you draw the game you want if you don’t mind x’) )

Thank you for this ask full of lovely and funny ideas!!! ��🖤

[emtheanxiousdragon]

So I read Thief in ThunderClan and all the comments people make about the ableism within it… I figured since I’m studying both English and Disability Studies, I could make a fairly informed statement on this.

I’ll preface this by saying that I doubt the Erins think as deeply about this as I’m about to, but let me talk. I also got inspired by a random set of tags that I can’t remember.

Within modern disabled circles, the key cultural value is that disabled people retain worth, even if they cannot contribute to society. The problem readers point out with TiTC (need the c to avoid issues) is that the story focuses on disabled people contributing to society, even in small ways. Multiple characters worry they lack value without service, fears which are not answered by saying the statement is utterly false, but by saying that they can serve in some capacity. It shifts the focus from worth despite ability to finding ways to serve how you can. This shift makes it feel like the characters believe “useless” disabled cats have no worth.

However! I think it is important to consider some facts about the series and disability rights in our world. To start, disability civil rights is simply not as popular as women’s rights, racial rights, religious rights, or LGBTQ+ rights. It simply isn’t. As a result, the general public isn’t aware of a lot of important trends in the community, such as the separation of disability from usefulness and identity. Basic Google searches can still direct them to older and outdated articles which focus on finding purpose within community. They should do more research, but we can extend some empathy regarding a lack of popular knowledge.

Next, the only characters in Warriors who think of disabled cats as worthless without usefulness (excluding villains and hated characters) are those who are disabled. When they struggle to pursue the occupations they want, they experience issues of self-worth. This is a normal response! Few people want to do nothing of importance to their community, and these characters want to contribute in a way they enjoy. It makes sense for a young character to fear going to the elder’s den because they want to do things with their lives. Characters who comfort them go for the obvious solution of pointing out ways they can contribute to their homes.

That’s the next big thing. The “all for one, one for all” attitude discussed in TiTC is central to Clan identity. The Clans are a survival culture. Their small populations have to continually work to provide food and security for one another. As a result, being able to pull a bit of your own weight is very important. Every member of the Clan needs to find a balance between their individual talent and capability and the support of their Clanmates. Otherwise, cats can die. Brightheart is chastised not for being lazy but for taking on too much. For the Clans, warriors need to find the balance.

And then again, if cats aren’t able to contribute in these important ways, they aren’t thrown aside or seen as worthless. The value of the sick and elderly is a key tenet of Clan life! The elderly are disabled, all old people are. The role of the elder is meant for those who cannot serve the Clan, outside of perhaps telling stories or giving advice, regular old people stuff. They are respected cats. This respect is often framed around past work, but that is the nature of their society. It’s kind of weird that they have to bury the dead, but that’s not the focus of this post.

Yes, the Clans are horrible at allowing disabled characters to find their own place in the Clan rather than forcing them into a place. Cats who want to work as warriors are forced into the elder’s den or the medicine den. The fact that they have to constantly prove their usefulness unlike other cats is wrong. It is a missed opportunity that the authors don’t acknowledge this, and it contradicts many of the points made here. However, for TiTC to say that disabled people are still able to contribute to society and find worth in their work is far from the biggest sin of the authors. The response makes sense for the characters and their culture and isn’t a terrible response. After all, many disabled people find they can still do rewarding activities that are seen as useful to their community, even if those activities aren’t major.

If the Erins really dove into this concept, the disabled world of Warriors would be richer and more thought-provoking.

[skunkes]

can u tell us more abt al and smunker lore!!

its not really anything tangible or even interesting its just the current backdrop for my little continuous daydream i explore before sleeps

Foundational info:

(in past) Cow Al is struggling to recover from emotional crisis experienced in college (traumatic relationship), + tries to hold down some jawb but finds himself unable to stay in that environment away from home (none of his "friends" acknowledge the turmoil which makes him feel more lost), + moves back to family farm.

He likes doing different kinds of manual jobs which are always needed around + he does have that "my parents are my best friends" thing going on so he kind of just stays there to present day.

He lives in a little, idk what else to call it but a mobile home, but its the longer rectangular ones ykwim, some ways off the main Hub. (Also there's lots of focus on community in my furryverse + there's lots of non al family furs living in and working on the place + sharing resources and work and such. Its not a HUGE place but its big ^_^)

Anyway, Smunker moves in to the little forest that you cld walk to from the farm area. He lives in a little sunken tree stump den thing hee heeeee. Not many other furs live there, + there's actually more Lesser Animals (what i call just regular non furry animals) present

-

The two of em meet at a grocery store, there was a relevant little point here that I forgot, which was that one of em wasn't even supposed to be there that first day for (x reason). Whatever.

The area that Cow Al lives in doesn't have very many Different looking furs. Al's family is actually all natural colors too. So he sees this pink smunk and goes a little insane (positive) (he promises later its not just because smunker looks different, but it was what drew his eye) but they never really interact (al keeps going to that same store Just In Case lol) until one day (cliche incoming) the little wheeled ladder that helps smaller furs get to higher shelves isn't available + he gets to help smunker get something from high up (he all but runs to be able to be the person to do this LOL)

Al actually has game + is confident, he's just out of practice from prior Events. He loves being social and misses making/being able to make friends so he does in fact manage to build up on interactions with Smunker...they become friends ➡️ realize they live close to each other.

Al actually accidentally damages smunker's home at some point by accident, + houses them while it's fixed, and there's another instance where smunker gets his leg caught in an illegal bear/foot trap on the walk back home at night, and then Al is also adamant on keeping an eye on him while he heals (+ is also the one who had to go help him get out of said trap...its literally a whole dramatic thing.)

I think I'm keeping both of these events as canon because it leads to the funny little situation of Al being like no wayyyyy i actually for real like this guy now that we've spent more time together like this...i need him to sleep on my belly to live :3 and cant stop having weird dreams about him. Idk if he feels the same. heeeeeeeeeelp. While skunker is like. Im for real going to kill myself for inconveniencing this person. He probably thinks im the biggest nuisance ever. I've overstayed my welcome for sure.

I haven't yet decided on the event that gets em Together. Might just be a little "date" at nearby ducky pond or something LOL. Skunker is shocked either way like huhh I didn't even know you liked me... Al has to get used to having a small partner again + navigate a relationship that doesn't suck ass again. Smunker has to get used to having big nice bf who cares about them. They like each other

[dreamingdarklyblog]

Well... The other one

So I promised my writing partner I'd write another post to go with the one about how much I love Big Tits. About my OTHER addiction, lol, which... as you can probably tell, is rubbing myself.

I don't know why, it's always been kind of a big focus for me. I mean, I think it is for everyone when they're younger right? Or so I hear. But I'm gonna skip that part of the story because well, any talking about under age stuff is no good. Not in this kinda context. So I'll just pick it up from when I was 18 or so.

I feel like I already wrote about this... Not the history, just the habit. Did I not? Hrm...

Well whatever. At that point I was already reading a LOT of Mcstories. Like, a LOT. I remember staying up till 2am working on "homework" in the den, switching browser windows whenever my parents walked by (Sadly yes, still living at home. Most of my friends went away to university, but I didn't have a major picked, so I stayed home and did the community college thing). The homework would get done... Usually. It just often was proceeded by... you know, 3 or 4 hours of reading other things.

At one point I had read every story on Mcstories. And I kept up to the new releases for years. Even now I've probably read 95% of them, just some of them don't really interest me. (Mostly the really harsh, creepy, or violent ones. Also kinda the M/M ones. I mean they can be hot, but not AS hot as pretty much any other combination)

These days it's probably a four hour a day habit >_<. It would likely be a problem if I was working out of the house, but honestly it doesn't really get in the way. Just get a little dehydrated sometimes.

I'm... not sure what else to say about it. Mostly I'm just kinda lazily edging, or not even, just lazily rubbing... Not really trying to get anywhere, it just feels nice, being horny, being wet... It kinda smooths out the rough edges of the world you know? Makes everything that much more pleasant.

I guess... That's about it for now? Let me know if you think of anything else I should say about it. Or any questions. Not really sure what you could ask...

[forebodingprophet]

Moirai || Clotho C5P1

As soon as they rematerialized, Anastasios took out the fox’s Pokéball.  He leapt back and snarled in response, clearly not happy with the idea.

“Look, it’s just until I get to where I need to go,” Anastasios explained, holding the orb in his palm.  “It’s not even that far, but you stand out way too much here, and I need to move quickly.”

“Not going!” the fox spat.

“Look, I’m not in as much of a hurry as before, but I still need to move quickly, and people are going to report me if they see I have something as menacing as you.”

“Then change!”

“What-”  Before Anastasios could ask for clarification, the fox’s body gradually grew vague, like he himself was made of a colorful haze.  When he finally started to come back into focus, he took the form of a young teen about Anastasios’ age in clothes that looked like a commoner’s from the old world.

“… Can you fix your clothes to be more like mine?  No one wears that anymore.”  Jeans were hardly commercially available, and the shirt devised had a design that was obviously printed on. 

The boy scoffed, sounding younger now than his usual gravelly speech, and brought a dark hand up to furiously scratch at his fluffy white and purple hair. 

“Aren’t you ever satisfied?” he snarled.

“No.  But with some more current clothes, this will suffice,” Anastasios replied.  “In addition, we can work out the new terms of our contract on the way.  Keep in mind, though, that, if at any point you try to renege and make a break for it, it's back in the ball.”

“No running,” he spat.  “Won’t run.  Need to meet portrait lady!”

“… We’ll talk about that as we go.”  Anastasios hefted Skíri in his arms and motioned for the fox boy to follow.  “So, your only request is that you be allowed to meet with the woman you saw in the portrait, is that correct?”

“YES!  WANNA MEET!” he yelled, half enthusiastic, half angry.

“Are you aware of how old that portrait is?  She could be dead for all you know.”  That made the fox pause.  Clearly he hadn’t considered that. 

“… Then why is there a picture?”

“Because she’s our progenitor’s sister, amongst other things.”

The fox boy dug his clawed fingers into his pants, threatening to tear the non-existent fabric, and bit his lip.  He was using his illusions to mess with his Ultrareality again, but it didn’t take a Seer to tell that he was deeply hurt by the prospect.  Anastasios had every opportunity to just insist Aria was dead, and then their contract would end here.  However, that’d only come back to bite him later, he was sure.  Princess Aria yet lived.  So long as both her and this fox remained immortal, there was a chance that they would cross paths.  Regardless of Aria’s benevolence towards his house, this fox would certainly seek out some kind of revenge.  In addition, keeping a bodyguard for a while longer was of benefit to him.  He didn’t have to worry about any members of the house coming after him, but he was walking into the lion’s den alone.  Of that he was acutely aware.  He needed everything he could get.

“… I’ll grant you one mercy and inform you that she lives.”  The fox’s head bolted to attention, and Anastasios paused to swerve away from the town gate, opting instead to lead them along the stone barrier built to try and limit the Pokémon that might try to make their way inside.  “Her visits have dwindled over the centuries, but she and her remaining siblings are still benefactors for our house.  They’re part of the reason we’re able to maintain our independence after splitting from Kalos.  However, I can promise at least one visit during my lifetime.”  Since she’d clearly agreed with Celia about him being Esaias reincarnated, there was no way she’d be content to leave him until he passed.  Doubly so since she’d also met Hikaze, although whether or not the two boys would ever meet again was up in the air right now.  Even if they were best friends, Anastasios was sure that Hikaze probably hated him.  Given Kazuya’s history with Esaias, Anastasios might be able to fix it if he tried, but, with the current circumstances, he wasn't inclined to.

“When?”

“When what?  Use your words properly,” Anastasios stated.

“When come?” the fox boy growled.

“Dunno,” Anastasios said.  “And I can’t invite her until we deal with our current problem.  It may be a few years.” 

The boy balked, releasing several noises of discontent that might have been swear words if he’d known how to use them. 

“You should take that as a boon,” Anastasios advised, stopping at a grate in the wall that had originally been built in for drainage and prying it off.  “As you are now, you have neither the manners nor enough trust to even be permitted in her line of sight.  If you truly wish to meet her, I’ll have you undergo a very thorough education.”

“Don’t want!  Just need to meet!”

Anastasios weaseled his slim form into the gap, just barely managing to pull himself through and come out in a dim alley before offering the slightly larger fox a hand to help him do the same.

“You don’t have a choice.  Those are the terms.  In addition, I’ll be having you extend your bodyguard duty until we return to the house.  If you don’t run now, I won’t let you have another chance.” 

The fox hesitated, clearly debating between that thing which he most desired and a sweet freedom that he hadn’t known in centuries.  If he ran now, he could always try to find her himself, but how long would that take?  Maybe he could just get a general location from him…

“Where?  Look myself!” the fox boy spat.

“Why would I tell you that?” Anastasios asked.  “Telling you serves me no benefit, and I don’t want someone who tried to kill me knowing where someone I care about lives.  That should be common sense.  And even if you did find her, she has a guard at all times.  They’d never let you anywhere near her.”  Each new statement stabbed the fox boy like a knife.  He hated that this human boy knew how to make good points.  Anastasios’ hand remained outreached, but it felt like that hand was also saying that the offer was still open.

“What kind of education?” the fox boy asked hesitantly.

“You'll be given the same education that any member of House Ofthalmós is subject to.  You’ll learn math, science, languages, and history- although the last one may seem meaningless to someone who’s lived through it, but these aren’t topics you can afford to ignore.  In addition, I’ll have you learn how to conduct yourself in high society, which will mean learning human manners and decorum.  Only the most esteemed of individuals is allowed in her presence.  I cannot afford to bring someone ignorant to the types of events she frequents outside our manor.” 

The fox boy frowned and hesitated, but then begrudgingly reached through the opening, wrapping dark, taloned fingers around Anastasios’ olivine wrist and allowing the boy to pull him through.

“We have an agreement then?  You’ll protect me until our return, and, in exchange, I’ll educate you and help you meet Lady Aria?”

The fox boy nodded.

“Confirm with your words.  I won’t have you trying to say you never said ‘yes’ later,” Anastasios said pointedly.  The fox boy scowled again but obeyed.

“Fine, yes, agree!” he spat.

“Great.  Now we have to hurry.  I’ve already lost a day to bureaucratic nonsense.”  Anastasios made for Hikaze’s house, silently hoping it was still empty. 

“You also have the house chasing after you, Stasi.  There’s no way they’re not far behind,” Celia reminded him from his shadow teasingly.  The sudden intrusion startled the fox boy.  He'd heard her in the hidden passage of the house, but he’d forgotten she was there until now, and he raised his raised his hackles in alarm.  That response only seemed to make her laugh.  Anastasios opted not to tell him that it wasn’t because she’d seen him do it.

“The House won’t be a problem.  I have something in place for them,” Anastasios assured her.  “All I had to do was get out.”

“Well, now you’ll also have to find your way back though,” Celia sighed.  “Now, pray tell, when did my cute little pet find the time to set up another dastardly scheme aside from this one?”

Anastasios couldn’t hold back the smirk that took over his face.

“While our gluttonous family god was stuffing herself with her fifth dessert helping of the evening, I got paid a little visit.  Papous isn’t the only one who gets a say in where I go and what I do.”

“Oh how I wish I could have stayed to witness Heron getting the rug pulled out from under him,” Celia sighed, clearly imagining the messy scene in her head.  The fox wrinkled his nose in confusion, but if Celia or Anastasios noticed, neither of them clarified.

“But what’s about to happen will be so much more interesting,” Anastasios assured Celia.

“Always is with you around, my pet.”

“Because I’m both exhausted and in a good mood, I’ll let that one slide.  But just this once.”  He wanted to feel bad for his grandfather, but it was hard to do when the man had so clearly intended to dangle what the boy wanted right in front of him just to rip it away and lock him in the house.  Anastasios just used the line he used the dangle the bait to tangle up his feet a little.  It was the least he should be allowed.

◊

Heron and the rest of the members of the house who’d come to the teleportation point all stood shocked for several moments.  The house was a safe haven and a prison- one that most inmates were reluctant to leave. They were all taught from infancy what types of horrors awaited them if they tried to leave the house without proper preparations.  A majority did study outside the house, either to practice a trade or find a spouse even if they weren't an investigator, but there were numerous safety nets involved every time.  Contingencies for contingencies.  Even if they were nervous, they were mostly safe.  Even still, only the oh so special house investigators and those who were truly fed up with the way the house operated were the only ones who could leave with so little consideration for what may befall them.  Anastasios was not only not an investigator, the type of job that Anastasios had fled to do, but was also their much-anticipated future leader who had already spent so much of his new life trying to right the twisted ways the house had fallen under.  Heron had all but already handed the position over to him.  And he had, in their eyes, flown readily into a blazing fire.  With nary a shred of the fear that they now felt themselves.  As was expected of him as Patriarch, Heron was the first to gather himself.

“We know where he’s going.  There must be another Pokémon with that city as its teleportation point.  Find it and bring him back.  He cannot be allowed to fall into enemy hands.”  Anastasios was a valuable member of House Ofthalmós in every sense of the term.  The boy held power and knowledge that even kings would kneel for.  Despite the well-known practice House Ofthalmós had of not marrying into other families regardless of gender, Heron had gotten countless letters not just from nobility but even royalty to try to set Anastasios up with their daughters- many thinly veiled as tea party invitations or networking events amongst young nobles, but invitations with obvious motives nonetheless.  If word got out that Anastasios had made his way into a black-market auction as an item for sale, it could tip the scales of war.  But, above all, despite his attitude, Anastasios was Heron’s precious grandson.  There was no way he could allow harm to come to the boy.

Heron continued to bark orders to the other, still stunned, members of the house for several moments until a hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Everyone can calm down, he has permission to go out, it’s fine.  You can make preparations, father, but I think you can leave this matter to him.”  Heron turned to scowl at the speaker- a man of fair complexion, chestnut hair, and almond eyes.  An appearance that couldn’t be linked to the house no matter how hard you looked at him. 

“Niall.  You may be my son-in-law, but you’re overstepping.  Anastasios can’t be allowed to go anywhere near this,” Heron replied with a scowl.

“That’s odd…  He told me he’d gotten your permission.  If he could find a reasonable bodyguard aside from the Lady, then he’d be allowed to do as he pleased; is that not what you agreed on?” the younger man asked, stroking his well-trimmed beard with feigned confusion.

“It was not actually meant to happen.  Both he and I understood that.”

“Oh, but patér, you forget the kind of child he is,” chuckled another man, this one much more closely resembling House Ofthalmós’ famed appearance- Anastasios’ uncle, Yiorgos. 

“And you, I know you reported to him first.  You know you were supposed to report to us together so that he could remain under my watchful eye.  Why did you explicitly disobey me?”

“Come on, patér~  You basically taunted the kid.  That was hardly fair,” Yiorgos replied.

“So you instead lead him straight to the flame?!?!” the Patriarch roared. 

“Heron,” Niall said, getting his father-in-law’s attention again.  “Anastasios may be your heir, but he’s also my son.  When my adorable son who never makes any unreasonable demands and is constantly perfect and self-reliant in every way finally needs a bit of help, what else can I possibly do?  He never acts out; let him be a teenager.”

“This isn’t just being a rebellious teenager, Niall!  Do you have any idea what could happen if he falls into their hands?!  It’d be bedlam!  No one of any power can be allowed to lay hands on that boy!  He’s only a teenager!  His powers aren’t even fully developed yet!  What could he possibly do?!”

“Do you believe the Lady when she claims my son is your Progenitor reborn?” Niall asked.

“That’s beside the point!  I don’t want my grandson to have to be in that kind of situation!  How can you say you’d be willing to let that happen to your son?”

“I’ve known for a long time that boy isn’t normal.  But he’s still my son,” Niall said, ignoring Heron’s answer.  “He asked me for a favor for the first time since he was born, Heron.  How could I say no?  I’m surprised that you could.”

Heron’s brows knitted together, and his mouth formed a tight frown.  His fingers curled into fists.  Throwing more people at this wasn’t the answer either, he knew that.  It was only liable to get more members of the house placed in danger.

“We should at least try to keep track of him though.  Someone should monitor him through his room until we can properly bring him back,” Heron stated.  Those around him exchanged glances.  It was an implicit rule that the bedrooms of each member of the house were sacred places.  Cases like what happened with Théo were an exception: so long as they didn’t need to know, no one pried.  It helped keep the peace somewhat.  It didn’t completely stop their powers from prying into each other, but it helped mitigate it at least.  But no one had ever pried into Anastasios before, nor did they want to.  No one was sure what they’d see, and they didn’t want to find out.

“I’ll do it,” Yiorgos volunteered.  “After all, I did enable the boy, even if he’s not aware of it.”  Anastasios had been convinced that Yiorgos was on Heron’s side their entire time talking, and he’d worked hard to make it seem that way.  Lies were impossible in House Ofthalmós, but masking intentions was easy- a trick that the teen still hadn’t realized yet.  If he’d made it clear they were on the same side, Anastasios might not have made his getaway properly, thinking he actually had an ally in the house that could help.  Plus, he didn’t need that much of a scolding from his own father.

“You will keep me apprised of his status every morning.  Is that clear?” Heron said sternly. 

“Of course, patér,” Yiorgos sighed, scratching his head.  “I don't want anything bad happening to my cute nephew either, you know.”

Heron held in another outburst.  How could these people, his own family, claim to want nothing to happen to him but still willingly send him into the fire?

“Everyone back to what you were doing,” Heron barked.  “We still have a lot to do.  This isn’t over.”

◊

The sound of rattling metal and echoing footsteps jolted Théo awake.  It took a moment for him to remember, but he quickly remembered that he was in the dungeon of an old, abandoned fortress on the outskirts of Old Kalos.  When had he fallen asleep?  He suppressed the urge to groan at the intense ache in his body from laying on the cold stone and glanced over at his companion.  The boy next to him was sleeping soundly.  Arceus only knew how with how hard his “bed” was. Maybe, after so long like that, he’d just gone numb.  Or his body was trying to recover from the multiple beatings he’d gotten.  Théo moved to sit in front of Hikaze just as a dim lantern came into view.  He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved when he saw that it was the man called “Minoru”.

“How’s he holding up?” Minoru asked, seemingly rather concerned.  It was the least he could be considering he’d raised the boy, as far as Théo was concerned, but Théo wasn’t sure he could be honest about his condition.

“He’s recovering,” Théo replied, trying to sound optimistic.  “The makeup job isn’t perfect but the facial swelling has gone down a lot.  He should at least look presentable in a couple of days.” 

Minoru put a hand on his chest and let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank Arceus.  When Raoul just started wailing on him, I got concerned.  He doesn’t hold back.”

“Then you should have stopped him.  Hikaze’s just a kid.  Most kids can’t take that kind of beating.”  Truthfully, Hikaze couldn’t either.  If he didn’t get proper medical attention, there might even be permanent damage.  The swelling had gone down, yes, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t other internal injuries that Théo couldn’t account for.  He’d seen that kick in the wagon.  The boy had probably gotten even more than that before Théo even came into the picture.

“I’m not in any position to defy him,” Minoru replied.  “If I try, we'd both just end up dead in a gutter.  It’s better for both of us if I at least try to placate him a little,” Minoru pointed out.

Théo didn’t respond.  He still felt like Minoru could have done more for his son before it got to this point.  Why did it take Raoul saying he was going to dispose of the boy for him to step in?  Something just wasn’t adding up for Théo, but he didn't have the abilities to figure it out right now.

“Well, he’ll at least be sellable.  After that, though, its out of my hands.”  Théo watched as Minoru seemed to puzzle over something for a few moments, the flickering of the dim lantern obscuring his true expression.

“Actually,” he said finally, “I’m planning on taking him out of here.  We can't leave the organization right away, but his mother and I don’t want what Raoul has in store for him.”

Théo couldn't hold in a scoff.

“If you can't stand it for your own offspring, I can't fathom how you can force it on others.”  Théo felt a chill as something dangerous flashed across Minoru’s eyes.  It was brief, but the hatred he felt from the man could almost curdle blood.  And then the malice was gone, like it’d never even been there in the first place.

“That's just how it is in this business,” Minoru replied with an almost regretful smile and a shrug.  “Your people should know that by now.”  A bit of the previous malice returned, this time in his words, but it wasn’t nearly as powerful as his gaze had been.

“House Ofthalmós uses its powers to maintain the global balance,” Théo stated defensively.  “We don't “trample just because we can.” 

Minoru scoffed, clearly not taking the words seriously.

“Anyway, give Hikaze this when he wakes up.”  Théo held out his hands, and Minoru reached through the bars and dropped some small brown squares in Théo’s hand.  “Give those to Hikaze.  They're his favorite.”  Minoru also set down two flasks of water before walking off.  Théo looked down at his hand. In it were three small, misshapen hard candies.  Caramels?  Théo was tempted to put one in his mouth to test it, but, if they really were the boy’s favorite, that would be pretty mean, given his state.  Théo opted to deposit them in one of the now empty wooden bowls whose contents he'd used to treat Hikaze earlier and scooted it over into a dim corner nearby so that it wouldn't get confiscated if Raoul came by.

Minoru returned back up the stairs, leaving behind the damp cool air of the cellar of the fort’s prison.  Their organization had taken over this abandoned fort that had once been a stronghold of the Kalosian border but had fallen in the war.  Kalos, like many other countries, had been horrifically overwhelmed by Amara’s armies, but the true blow had been their failure to bring House Ofthalmós in line.  Instead, they lost an entire battalion to the demon that possessed that house, crippling their military.  And then to add insult to injury, instead of hrlping those who were struggling, House Ofthalmós focused on saving their own skins.  Any support they’d been offering until that point virtually dried up, and Unova had suffered immensely for it.  If it weren't for that, then…

Minoru’s ears caught the echoing sound of distant arguing as it bounced off the crumbling stone walls, and he followed it to his destination.  As he got closer, it became clearer that both voices were female.  He was relieved that neither were Raoul.  Arguing with him never went well, and especially not with the mood he was in right now.  But Helvi, the woman who’d played the role of Hikaze’s other, had probably tried to convince her older sister, Hestie, who had been playing the role of his aunt, to try and talk to Raoul about his decision to dispose of Hikaze.  It was a genuinely poor decision on multiple levels, but Raoul held too much power for them to try and offer their own ideas, and he was too self-absorbed to take suggestions from anyone else.  The only person he cozied up to was that man, and that was purely because he was their leader.  Raoul was a dangerous combination of power-hungry, narcissistic, and opportunistic with just enough stupidity to destroy any carefully crafted plan he touched but enough luck to be able to walk away unscathed every time.  Minoru genuinely hated working under him and had known as soon as he was told to relocate that the careful plan he’d been given to follow and had obeyed for over ten years would all come apart sooner rather than later.

“Come on, please just talk to him,” Helvi pleaded as Minoru turned the corner into the mess hall.  “If anyone can convince him, it’s you!  You’re his partner!  You two have worked together for years!  Surely he’ll at least consider it if it's from you!”

“But why would I?” Hestie shot back.  “He’s the one who makes the decisions around here.  It's not our job to question him!  Don’t tell me you’ve gotten soft now and started thinking he’s actually your son?”

“You’re not the one who had to raise him!  Why should I toss away eleven years of my life and what should have been an excellent plan to finally have a leg up on those damned Eyes of Arceus because that fool can’t be patient enough to put up with a child?!”

“Then you do it!  You tell him his plan is ridiculous.  See how far it gets you.  Besides, we can just try again when the next generation pops out their brats.”

“And do what?  Murder the whole family until we get one who’ll do what we want?  Then we’ll have the Kantonian Emperor breathing down our necks for taking his pawns!  And we can’t keep waiting decades at a time for a new opportunity.  You’ve seen the drive they’ve gotten since that royalbrat they call their Progenitor reborn was born- they’ll be back to being a world power in no time!  Already that’ve had more contact with the Isle of Ray than they have in the last several decades!  We won’t be able to do anything to nip it in the bud at this rate!”

“And you thought one child would change that?”

“Maybe not, but then at least his children could-”

“Face it, Helvie, Raoul is right.  It was a garbage plan from the start.  It's better to just scrap the whole thing.  Did you really want to dedicate another ten years to a kid that's not even yours?”

“It’s not about that!  What about the ten years I already put in?!”

Well, it wasn’t like Minoru didn’t understand that argument.  Here they’d been saddled with a mission neither of them cared for that had been a gamble to begin with and ultimately having to deal with it being torched because of their incompetent superior’s impatience and inability to deal with kids.

“Give it up, Hestie, we already managed to nab a few of them.  One of them even agreed to cooperate!  Why should we need to rely on some other house’s abilities when we can just use their own against them, and all it’ll take is one generation.  You said it yourself: they’re getting too powerful again too quickly- better to fight fire with fire.”  Helvie waved her off and folded her arms, making it clear she was done with the conversation.

“Helvie-!”

“Now now, Hestie, Helvie’s right.  What Raoul says goes, and we all knew this was a gamble from the beginning.  We don’t even know if he inherited the ability, and trying to raise him normal because of that was only going to make it that much harder to bring him around when the time came,” Minoru said, cutting in.  Hestie glared daggers at him.  She thought they’d been on the same side!  They’d just talked about this a couple hours ago too!  Helvie made a smug sound of satisfaction as she curled her lips in a smirk, satisfied that she’d gotten one over on her younger sister again, before walking away.  As soon as she was out of earshot though, Hestie turned her rage on her ‘husband’. 

“What the fuck was that?!” Hestie spat, trying hard not to raise her voice to keep it from echoing down the hall.

“Watch your mouth,” Minoru spat.  “Women shouldn’t cuss like that.”

“I’ll cuss however I damn well please!” Hestie hissed.  “You made me look like an idiot!  What happened to us being in agreement about trying again with Hikaze?  We both thought it was a viable plan, and now you’re making it sound like we never should have tried in the first place!”

“I had to get you to stop somehow.  Imagine if Helvie knew what we were thinking and told Raoul- then we’d all be on the chopping block.  I get why you wanted her on your side- you’re family-, but she’s too loyal to him.  She doesn’t see how insane he is.” 

Hestie scrunched up her face but recoiled.  She’d, admittedly, never held a particular amount of concern for the boy who was supposed to be her child, but the way Raoul had suddenly snapped and beaten him within an inch of his life over a child’s spat had made her freeze- too horrified to even act.  Yes, he was their pawn, but that level of brutality against a child?  One who was supposed to be such a rare and valuable tool no less?

“So what, we’re just going to steal him back out from under Raoul’s nose?  Then it’ll be like we’re the traitors who didn’t follow orders!  We’d be kicked out and chased down until we’re all dead- there’d be no point!”

“Relax, I already sent a Pidove to him explaining the situation.  I doubt Raoul’s had that level of forethought.  With any luck, we’ll be the ones getting lauded with praise while he gets demoted for ruining the plan.  If I get a return message telling us to call it off, then there’s not much we can do, but I doubt he’ll be keen to let something so rare get pawned off to someone else.  The royal brat’s attendant on the other hand will be an issue.”  They’d all seen the way the Ofthalmós man they’d just taken had stood his ground in front of Raoul to protect Hikaze.  While Minoru was grateful for the opportunity it afforded him, it also likely meant that the man wouldn’t let Hikaze be whisked away so easily.  “You can make more of those candies, right?”

“Here?” Hestie asked, incredulous.  “I can barely get a fire lit in this place, let alone keep a stove!”

“Well try to see if you can.  If not that, then something else the kid will readily eat.  He might not come with us willingly otherwise.”  Hikaze was stupid, but he'd likely seen that his parents wouldn’t stick up for him, so Minoru wouldn't be surprised if there was a lack of trust now.  But the boy was still a child.  Children could be easily swayed with kind words and treats, and that was precisely what he intended to do.  Ideally, he'd like to separate him from the Ofthalmós man, but given the man's treatment of him, neither were likely to make that easy, and he didn’t want to be making unnecessary enemies of anyone right now. 

“You know you’re asking a lot, right?  Making candy under that psycho’s nose?”

“If he causes you trouble, just show him this.”  Minory tossed her a small satchel.  When she opened it, dozens of folded paper triangles were inside. 

“… Am I supposed to add these?”

“Only to the final batch.  This is Plan A, after all.”

Hestie gave a breathy laugh and closed the satchel.

“Remind me again why you aren’t the one in charge?”

“It’s not for a lack of trying.”

[band--psycho]

Harvey Specter x Reader-Pretend Boyfriend (Fake Dating)

My fourth entry for @girl-next-door-writes bingo challenge! I hope you enjoy!

(Credit to the gif owner)

Third Person POV

“Hey, Harves,” Y/n greeted in a chirpy tone, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor as she sauntered into his office with a huge smile on her face, placing an expensive bottle of single malt whiskey on his desk.

“What do you want ?” Harvey asked, his eyes flicking up from the file for a few seconds, before focusing back on what he was reading. 

“Who says I want something?” She said, slightly taken aback by his comment as she sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk. A small chuckle left his lips as he placed the file to the side of the table, examining the bottle that she placed on his desk before his eyes moved to focus properly on her. 

“You only ever call me Harves when you want something, plus you’re being outlandishly nice,” he observed, his eyes glancing back to the whiskey bottle.

“I’m always nice!” she corrected with a sweet smile on her face. Her actions only caused Harvey to raise an eyebrow in confusion. He knew she was hiding something, normally he’d be answered with a much wittier comment than ‘I’m always nice,’. The pair sat in silence for a few moments, their eyes burning into eachothers, as they tried to work out who would cave first and break the silence. Y/n was debating whether to give up the sherrade she was clearly failing at portraying whilst Harvey tried to work out what she was hiding from him. 

“Fine,” she sighed in defeat, running a hand through her long y/h/c locks. 

“My parents are in town and they think I have a boyfriend,” Y/n began, a wave of anxiety washing over her as the words left her lips. She knew this was probably a stupid idea, but it was too late to leave now, she was in the lions den now, trying to leave wasn’t really an option. 

“And do you?” Harvey asked, knowing the answer before it even left your lips. He knew damn well that you wouldn’t be here if you did.  

“Do you think I’d be here if I did?” Y/n bit back, a hint of frustration in her voice. Harvey couldn’t help but let another small chuckle escape his lips as he looked how flustered Y/n was becoming; in all the years they’d known each other this was the only time he’d ever really seen her this nervous.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to be your boyfriend?” He smirked as the words left his mouth, taking pure pleasure in teasing her.

“Pretend boyfriend, you just have to come for dinner at mine, meet them and then we can go back to our normal lives,” Y/n explained simply, a pondering look came across Harveys face as he processed the words she’d just said.  

“Plus you owe me, you all but scared off the last guy I was seeing,” 

“I’m your friend, I merely warned him about what would happen if he hurt you, so what?” He defended; the memories of that particular conversation with her ex playing back in his head. Harvey was good at reading people, it was something that he prided himself on and that’s how he knew that that man wasn’t any good for her but he also knew that it was Y/n decision, so he just warned him what would happen if he hurt her, he knew she didn’t have a particularly good history when it came to dating and that last thing he wanted to see was her get hurt because some asshole didn’t know how to treat her. 

“So, that means you owe me,” Y/n pointed out with an almost pleading look in her eye. Y/n knew that this was such a bizarre thing to ask, to most people it probably wouldn’t even matter, but she knew better than anyone what her parents were like and if she didn’t have a boyfriend to show them, then the whole evening would just be about why she doesn’t and that it was probably to do with her work. Her parents were lovely people most of the time, but they were quite old fashioned in the sense that they didn’t understand why she’d want to work countless hours during the week when she could be a stay at home wife and no matter how much Y/n explained her reason for doing it, the conversation near enough always ended in an argument and right now Y/n just didn’t want to deal with all of that. Harveys features softened slightly as he looked at her, he could see ther desperation evidently in her y/ec eyes and he hated it, he hated seeing her upset. 

“When’s the dinner?” He asked, with a smile on his face, watching as the relief seemed to wash over Y/n.

“Tomorrow at 6,” she answered quickly; hoping that he’d still be able to make it on such short notice.

“It’s a date,” Harvey joked, feeling his heart swell slightly at the sight of her beaming smile. Y/n quickly said her thank yous and left the office, happiness and relief emanating off of her. Harvey eyes followed her out of the room, before meeting Donnas gaze when Y/n vanished from view. Donnas glance said it all, it was a glance she’d given him multiple times in regards to you. A look that screamed, ‘Tell her the goddamn truth.’ Donna like Harvey, could read people very well, she was Donna, there wasn’t a thing she didn’t know. And she knew that they both had feelings for each other.  She knew that they both had their reasons for not wanting to admit them, neither of them had a particularly good track record when it came to relationships and neither of them wanted to hurt each other and ruin the friendship that they had built but she was hoping hoping that now, after this dinner, they might actually admit their feelings to one another, and if they didn’t then she might just lock them in a room until they did.

~~~~~~~~~~

First Person POV

“So how long have you two been dating” My mum asked, sipping her wine.

“Umm..only a few months,” I answered, mentally cursing myself for stuttering on such a simple answer. Harvey obviously sensed how anxious I was about this and  delicately grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers together, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of my hand. I was surprised no one heard my heart beating, that simple action was enough to have it beating like I’d just run a marathon. 

“How did you meet?” She asked in a sickly sweet tone.

“At work, we work in the same law firm together,” 

“I guess that means you’ll be provided for then” my dad instantly said as soon as the words left my mouth.

“Dad,I can look after myself,” I reminded, making sure that my tone didn’t show any of the annoyance I was currently feeling. 

“Nonsense, at your age I’d already had you and your brother,” my mum argued, a flicker of disappointment momentarily clouding her eyes as she looked at me.

“Well I’m focusing on my career, rather than having children,” I answered honestly, only for my dad to scoff at my answer, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“I know you enjoy your job but is it really what you want to spend the rest of your life doing, being a lawyer is a great opportunity but it’s nothing compared to having a family,” he finally said, not meeting my eyes once. I went to say something but before I could he’d already started speaking again, but this time his eyes were on Harvey.

“What do you think on the matter Harvey, surely a respectable man such as yourself would understand that it’s a man's job to provide and a woman's job to stay at home,” as my father said those words I could see the rage flicker in Harveys eyes, as he squeezed my hand harder. 

“Y/n is an amazing lawyer, one of the best I’ve ever known, I’d never ask or expect her to give up the career she’s worked her ass of to build,” Harvey answered bluntly, taking a swig of his whiskey. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Third Person POV

Y/ns parents obviously didn’t like what Harvey had said in regards to Y/n, it was obvious not just in how they looked at him but with how silent they’d grown. Before, it felt like they were playing a game of twenty questions but now, Y/n struggled to get more than a one word answer from them. Harvey felt his heart ache for her, he knew that she loved them that was clear by how hard she was trying to impress them, he could see the sadness in her eyes at their blunt replies. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, to tell her that her parents' view on the world was medieval and outdated but he couldn’t do that with her parents here, so he just squeezed her hand softly, grabbing her attention as his thumb slowly circles onto the back of her hand. A small smile graced her face before she continued to eat the food in front of her. The dinner soon ended and her parents soon left, they couldn’t get out the door fast enough whilst muttering goodbye as they left.  

As soon as they left, Y/n let out a huge sigh as she gathered up the empty plates putting them into the sink, Harvey being the gentleman that he was, gathered up all of the empty glasses and placed them into the sink.

 “Are you okay?” Harvey asked breaking the silence that’d been engulfing them since her parents left. 

“I’m fine, I’m sorry,” Y/n answered, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her. 

“Why are you apologising?” The confusion was clear in not only his voice but in his demeanor as well. 

“For my parents, I know they’re kind of-

“Medieval,”  Harvey finished with a solemn smile on his face, Y/n just nodded at his words, another long sigh escaping her lips. 

“It’s late, Harvey you should probably go,” Y/n said, making her way towards the front door. Harvey nodded in agreement, grabbing his coat and putting it on. The closer he walked towards the door, towards her, the faster he felt his heart beating almost like it could beat out of his chest. Y/n went to open the door but was stopped by something completely unexpected. Harvey kissing her. Their lips molded perfectly together like they were made for each other, instantly she placed her hands on his face whilst he grabbed her waist, both of them pulling the other closer than ever before. She’d heard that he was a good kisser, but this, this was unlike any kiss she’d ever had before, it was an intoxicating high that she never wanted to end. A small whimper left her lips when they finally pulled away from the kiss, a huge smile beaming on both of their faces. 

“I have been waiting so long to do that,” Harvey muttered against her lips, squeezing her hips lightly as he placed a delicate kiss on the tip of her nose, a small giggle coming from Y/n as he did so. 

“I like you, Harvey,” she whispered to him, their lips inches apart. 

“I like you too, Y/n,” Harvey whispered back before closing the distance between their lips.

Tagging: 

@little-diable​ @rebelwrites​ @xacatapelsyx​

[lemonjoonah]

Blood Bounty - Part 1 (M)

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader, Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 10K Rating: M Genre: Historical fantasy AU, Vampire AU, Thriller, Drama, Smut Warnings: Non-consensual vampire feeding (graphic, provocative, sexual, blood play, and twisted as fuck), captivation/enslavement, blood, drugging (force feeding vampire blood), obsession, violence, PTSD, at one point the OC pleads for death, it’s dark guys you’ve been warned. While the vampire feeding in this part is highly sexualized, I do have somewhat more “traditional” smut scenes planned for part 2 and 3.

| Series Masterlist |

Summary: He’s taken everything from you, your blood, your memories, your life, and after months spent as Taehyung’s own personal feast, you eagerly take your chance to flee. Unfortunately your escape doesn’t go as well as you had hoped, as you are soon caught by another blood thirsty beast. The vampire Yoongi claims to know you, and that he wishes to return you home. But when you can only remember the pain caused by his kind, you find it difficult to trust him, since he too could just be another monster waiting to feed.

A/N: This mini-series is a loose retelling of Anastasia, you’ll find it to be very different from the animated film. I attempted to blend both the history and the story together in a new historical fantasy world that is not our own. Anyway I hope you enjoy the start to my three part twisted tale, and if you have any questions at the end please feel free to send them my way! Also a big thank you to my beta readers @m00nchild-shi​ and @ladyartemesia​. This story wouldn’t have made it this far without you!

This story is dedicated to all of those who have lost themselves to a monster (of any form) at some point in their life. I know the journey back to yourself can be hard, but trust me, you are worth every effort. 

...  

From the break of dawn you’ve crossed miles of ground, traversing through grassy fields and deep rivers. Accompanied only by the clothes on your back, a stake in your hand, and a pair of boots far too big for your feet, all stolen during your hastened departure. 

You consider yourself lucky after making it out unseen. Lucky that Taehyung had left his fortress of a castle, lucky that he took most of his capable progenies with him, lucky that the underling who tended to your room left the fire iron within your reach, and lucky that it was able to break the chain of the shackle fastened around your wrist. You left as soon as daylight broke. With everything working in your favour for your escape, even acquiring your captor’s clothes and cap to pass off as a young man. For sightings of a woman travelling alone might tip off those you would rather avoid.  

But now, with your heels raw and bloody, it would seem that your good fortune has finally run out, as the smell will no doubt attract his hunters. You curse your carelessness, for the number of times Taehyung has complimented you for your most potent scent. You’ve witnessed it yourself, a single whiff of your blood during his feedings having sent several of his men into a frenzy. This unfortunate blessing left you to be seen as a bounty, condemning you to his captivity, and now the struggle as you flee for your life. 

You attempt to clean the broken skin and stem the flow with strips torn from your tunic. The fine piece of clothing is barely recognizable after the paces you’ve put it through today. With the extra fabric now wedged into your boots you can only hope that it’ll make your journey tomorrow easier, and detain much of the scent that would allow them to track you. 

You wish that you could continue on tonight, but the darkness of the wood, your sores, and your fatigue impede your plans. You’ve gained ground but the lack of settlements must mean that you still lie within his realm. With your memories stolen in an effort to keep you at his side you have little to go on but a tapestry that hung in his den. It showed a city to the east, beyond the boundary of his land, and what is hopefully your home. But with the woven display having no proper scale you have no idea how long it will take to actually leave his territory. Freedom could be hours or days away.  You can only hope that the rivers you’ve traversed will keep them at bay until you can find a safer place to stay. Their weaknesses are all you have to lean on to prevent recapture, but will it be enough?

After tending to your feet you settle in the nook of a tree, leaning your head against the mossy trunk. Your stomach growls but you have no food to feed it, nor a blanket to dismiss the chilling wind which forces a shiver from you. Your deflated spirit is made even worse when a raven takes notice of your poor state. It circles overhead, undoubtedly looming with the hopes that you have given in, and that he too can feast on you. 

Ignoring the omen, you close your eyes, directing your focus instead on the surrounding sounds of the forest, listening for anything that might be a predator making an approach. Despite an exhausting day you still are wary of sleep, knowing what will greet you as you drift off, and concern of someone, or something catching up to you once you do. You rest there for what must be an hour, debating with yourself the advantages slumber, before you hear the snap of a nearby twig. Your fingers drift to the wooden stake on the ground next to you, your movement is slow hoping to escape the notice of whatever might be drawing closer. The footsteps which crunch on the leaves continue to advance on your position. There’s no running now, all you can do is play ignorance until they are in range for you to act.

When a hand reaches down and tilts the brim of your hat, you open your eyes, driving your weapon up in an aim to strike, but your assailant is too quick for you. He catches your arm in an iron grip, much like the remains of the manacle that still holds your other wrist. Though his face is hidden by the dark of night and his frame draped in a long coat, there is no doubt about what he is, and what he’s come for, his speed in stopping you was far too fast to be human.

“Be still,” the monster growls. “It’s me, Yoongi. Are you hurt?”

His concern is almost laughable. His implication of a connection likely a trap, one intent on luring you in, with a motive to end the hunt. “Not if you leave me be.” You attempt to press the stake towards him still, but he barely even registers your efforts. 

“Have you forgotten me?” The beast’s grip tightens on your arm as he dismisses your threat, taking the stake in his own hand before he pulls you up while he continues his deception, “I know that to be what I asked for, but I didn’t think... no, it matters not. ” He shakes his head as his words trail off. His voice then returns resolute and firm once he changes thoughts. “Come, we must get you somewhere safe.”

You dig your heels into the ground as he attempts to pull you along, clawing at his fingers until they release you. “I’m not going anywhere with you vampire. You will not take me back to him, anywhere is safer than there.”

“I am not taking you back, but we must leave. They’ve already placed a large bounty on you and these parts will be flooded with hunters soon.” 

“How can I be sure you’re not one of those hunters?” You make an attempt to retake the stake, showing you have no intention of complying with him. But he pulls it back, holding it just out of your grasp.

“You will have to take me at my word, I am not of Taehyung’s kin and I have no plans on handing you back over to him. Now if you please, I can either escort you to safety, or take you there by force.”

“I don’t trust you.” You glare back at him.

“Very well,” the vampire sighs, tossing your wooden weapon aside, putting it far beyond your reach. He then bends down, throwing you easily over his shoulder, and thereby ending the argument over your fate. Your fists collide with his back several times in an effort to make him release you, but he doesn’t appear bothered by the attack. You draw breath ready to call out when he stops you with a quick jostle. His shoulder lays into your abdomen knocking the wind from your lungs. “You may hit me all you want, but do not scream. I would rather not alert others to our location.”

Could he really not be someone sent by Taehyung’s underlings? Regardless, even if he is, you don’t have the strength to over power him. There’s little you can do but lay like a rag doll propped over his shoulder, with his arm hooked on the back of your knees. 

He hauls you over to a break in the trees, one which leads out to the road where a horse waits patiently for him. You’re thankful when he seats you on the saddle rather than throwing you on your stomach once again. With the full light of the moon on the open dirt road, you’re finally able to see his face properly. His soft and sombre expression is a drastic difference compared to Taehyung’s sharp features and cruel grin.

“Are you going to behave now princess?”

Your eyes widen with terror in response to his last word uttered. You immediately try to pull away to put as much distance as you can between you and him, but he holds you firm in the saddle. The confining grip matching the memories of the name he has just called you all too well. Your breathing comes in short panicked waves as your hand moves to conceal the scar on your neck. You can’t go back, you won’t go back, you refuse to endure that supposed term of endearment anymore. 

“Prin-” The vampire tries again to elicit a response from you, only this time you cut him off. Your fear turning to anger unwilling to tolerate another lie from his lips. 

“If you are not one of Taehyung’s clan then tell me, why do you address me in that manner?”

“You don’t know why I call you princess?” He gazes upon you, his eyes narrowed in confusion as you recoil once again. This time he takes your hand, which bears the weight of both the iron shackle and bitten brand, to hold you still. When you wince from the pressure of his touch, he looks down to examine the sensitive spot. His jaw stiffens as he finds the source of the pain. “What has he done to you?” He whispers softly as his fingers trail over the wound on your palm. 

...

“Open up princess, I have a gift for you,” Taehyung orders, standing over you as you sit on his desk. Gripping your jaw, while your lips remain sealed in defiance. “I said open.” His hand tightens, forcing your mouth to unfasten and expel a cry of pain. He presses the bloody tip of his finger to your tongue, dragging his index from the back to the front coating it with the thick fluid. “Now swallow.”

Your mouth begins to salivate with the intrusion of his blood. You know if you take it in you will lose everything once again, you’ll lose the will you’ve been building back up to defy him. He is never truly out of your system, you still have gaps in yourself, but the need to disobey always has its way of creeping back to you first. To be forced back into obedience within your own body and mind is nothing short of torture. 

You refuse to allow him to drag you back to the dark willingly, spitting your saliva along with his blood into his smug expression.

Taehyung chuckles darkly as he wipes his face with the back of his hand. “You’re right my princess. How could I think that only a drop would be enough to dispel your greed? You deserve more.” 

This time he bites into his hand allowing the blood to pool, while the other takes hold of your neck. The dripping flesh of his palm covers your gasping mouth. Your head is tilted back by his grasp as the blood drains down the back of your throat. 

“You will keep this down. You will accept my control. Every time you look at yourself you will think of me. When you close your eyes you will dream of me, for you can not run away only toward. You will remember nothing before me, and nothing before the night I bestow you with this.” His thumb passes over a three month old scar on your neck, continuing to mark it as the cornerstone of the earliest memory you possess.

Every week without fail he reweaves his bonds inside you, tending to them as a doting hunter with a valued prey. He takes his fill of you in between, sometimes it’s only a taste and others a full meal. Treating his desk as a dining table and you the feast, placing you down upon it for his consumption. 

“I will have to leave you weak in the knees today princess if I must go without you for a fortnight.” His finger catches a drop of blood that escapes your mouth running it back along your lips before his hand moves away and down, trailing deep red lines down the skin of your jaw and neck. “I’m sorry to leave, but there are some pressing matters which I must attend to.” He portrays a look of sorrow, but you know better than to believe that he can possess a single human emotion.  “You’ll be good while I’m gone won’t you? Shall I give you something to remember me by? Another mark unhealed for you to see? You can watch as it slowly means, knowing that I’ll be back to tear you open again.” 

He lifts your hand to his face with his own bloody fingers. How you wish you could slap him away, but your body refuses to move on your behalf, after consuming his blood it yields only to him.  

He does not hesitate before sinking his teeth into the base of your palm. Matching his own wound that he inflicted on himself, but as yours grows deeper, his begins to heal. He takes a long draft before releasing in a pant. Your blood acts like a drug to his system, making him as he so often puts it, ‘Feel alive again.’ 

He wipes his palm on yours allowing the breach to clot, he doesn’t mend it completely, instead leaving the painful imprint of his teeth, branding you anew, just as promised. “Appetizer, now entree Princess,” he mutters as he moves on, shifting to cradle your head and neck in his arms. You attempt to pull away, but that only forces him to issue the command, “Stay still.” 

His face hovers over the pulse of your neck, with you now frozen beneath. His fangs are careful not to dive too deep, retracting just as the blood begins to trickle from your throat. It collects in the well of your collar and trails down your chest, seeping beneath the bodice of your dress. The white fabric of your garment starts to bloom with scarlet. He could have chosen a gown of darker cloth for your personal wear, one that would be less prone to display the gruesome patterns of his actions, but he prefers to see the art of your suffering, your clothes and body becoming a canvas for his great masterpiece. He mutters how beautiful it looks while his fingers add to the display, painting a ruby-red choker around your neck using the blood as a stain.

His eyes linger taking in the sight before he moves in again to collect the flow, lapping it off your skin like a beast amidst a drought. You cringe as his tongue crosses your flesh, relentless in its desire to gather every drop it can. And just when you think he’s finished it makes another pass, accompanied by a growl and another sharp nip.

Unlike your hand, he completely remedies the gash on your neck, leaving only the one scar upon your throat from his first feeding. The loss starts to hit you, your skin turning cold like his, your breathing shallow, and your pulse quick. You hope that might be the end, that he has had his fill and needs no more, but his hand then fastens on your leg having pushed up the hem of your skirt and thin petticoat. “Let me in princess, I still have room left for dessert.” His teeth skim across the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh mapping his preferred spot from your pained twitches. 

You whimper as he clamps down for his last bite. The only solace you can take is that he will not be here for two weeks. You have more time without him feeding, time to gain back control, and time to escape. You stare off to the woven tapestry map behind him, not knowing where to go but longing to be anywhere but here.

...

“D-don’t call me that.” Your demand catches and cracks at the back of your throat.

“But it’s what you are-”

“I am not his dinner, I am not his slave, and I am most certainly not his princess! I will not go back. If you have any mercy, please... drain me here. For I am far more willing to meet death, than I am to see him again. ”

To your confusion he looks shocked that you would even suggest such an act. He takes a moment before looking into your eyes with a narrowed gaze, “You don’t remember anything do you? It’s not just me you’ve forgotten.” 

You shake your head, unable to meet his eyes, “I remember nothing before him.” 

The vampire holds what’s left of the iron shackle in his hands, bending it apart with only his grip, freeing you from it’s clutches. 

There's another sigh from him as he takes the space on the saddle behind you. His body is uncomfortably close to yours, with his breath on your neck, and arms wrapped on either side to take the reins. “And I thought he could sink no lower...” He urges the horse forward with a nudge and a few mumbled words far too low for you to hear. “You are right, you are not his meal, nor his property, but it is not simply a given moniker to which I am referring, it’s what you are. You are the only living heir of a human kingdom just east of here.” 

“You lie, there is no way I could be,” This is just another game of his. It has to be. “If I am what you say, how could I have ended up where I was?” 

“You went missing, disappearing from your bed in the night. Your people assume that you were kidnapped, that you were taken by a monster, not knowing what we are. But I assure you, you are the lost pr-” He stops as you stiffen once again. “I can take you home, back to your family, back to your people, if that’s what you wish.” 

“And why would you do that?”

“I broke a promise long ago, I plan to remedy that mistake.” 

“I fail to see how that applies to me.” You mutter as you slump down in the saddle, no longer fighting your current fate. This vampire too can easily overpower you, he can take you wherever he desires to go, but as long as it’s away from Taehyung you have no wishes to slow him down.

He pulls a skin of water from his horse’s pack offering it to you. Your dry mouth wants to empty it in one swig, but the possibility of what else it could contain holds you back. You turn your nose up instead fearing that he’s drugged it with his own blood. 

“I have not tampered with it if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You keep assuming your words carry weight with me. I will need more than that if I am to drink this.”

“If I intended to manipulate you with blood I would have done so already instead of fighting to get you on the horse.” 

He’s right, it would have been far easier. You take a careful sip rolling over your tongue, trying to detect even the slightest taste of iron before your swallow. 

He holds out food too, in the form of a few pieces of dried meat. Your mouth waters at the sight. The unaltered drink gives you the confidence to abandon your worries and take it, asking more questions while you eat. “You said I forgot you, but how was it that I knew you Yoo-” You pause trying to recall the name he led with when he found you. 

“Yoongi.”

You wait for more but he doesn’t continue, after swallowing your current mouthful you press further. “Are you not going to tell me?”

“It would be better if you remembered.”

“You expect me to trust you, but then you hide truths?” 

“I expect you to trust me because I want you to recall your truth of our encounters, not mine. When you do I will gladly discuss it with you, but not until then.” His tone is stern, boasting an air of finality to his argument.  

You huff back in frustration. “Can you at least tell me how long you’ve known me?”

“More than ten years now, you were a child of fourteen when we first met.”

“So you must know my name? My real name?” You ask with near excitement, hoping it might stir up some of your past within you.

“I do.” But as he recalls it, whispering the name for you to hear, nothing happens. You thought when you heard it again that everything would come back all at once like a spell broken by one magical word. But the name that comes from Yoongi’s lips has no meaning to you, no memory, no warmth. It bestows only a cold emptiness, a fear that you’ll never quite be able to bind yourself together with the person who bore that name before. 

...

Hours later Yoongi pulls his horse off the path and into the woods, trotting down what looks to be an overgrown trail. You finally come to a stop in front of a mound, backed by an elevation of stone and earth, bearing a small cave-like entrance.

“What is this?”  

“An old mining site. We’ll have to stop here for now.” Yoongi helps you down off the horse before removing the tackle and taking the large pack, he ties his steed up with a long lead on a grassy patch. Once finished you follow him through the dark and into the cavern, lagging a few paces behind with your legs stiff and sore from the night’s travel.

“But there’s still another hour or two until the sunrise. Why stop here?”  

“Because this is the last dark space that’s marked for the next fifteen miles.” He opens one of the bags pulling out a lantern, he lights it, dousing the cold and damp walls of the cave in a warm glow. Taking out a thick piece of paper next, he unfolds it with careful precision, laying it gently across a leather pack. He acts as though it’s a precious heirloom passed on to him from a loved one long gone. Your heart starts to race upon realization that it’s a map, and how with it’s aid you’d be able to find your own way home.  

Dark circles on the heavy parchment denote what according to the key is a resting spot. He opens it further pointing to both your current position and destination, your fingers tracing over a kingdom which he says is yours. With still three times the distance you’ve travelled yet to traverse, much of your contentment fades. 

Despite the blow to your morale, you continue your examination of the map, hoping to learn as much from it as you can. It’s beautifully intricate and precisely made, the only flaw is an ink smudge in the lower left hand corner, which appears to be a faint mirror image of the compass rose on the right. Likely the result of the map being folded before the ink had completely dried. You run your index over the blot feeling much the same. A partial imprint of your past life, and a great distance away from what you must have been. 

Yoongi watches you with a keen eye as you attempt to commit your future route to memory. “Does it look at all familiar to you?”

“No, I remember nothing of this land.” Not the names of rivers or cities return to you. How can you call a place home if you know nothing of it? “Thank you for your assistance. I know you have to stop, but after seeing this I feel that I should keep going.” You offer cordially, praying that he’ll agree to parting ways here. 

“Oh no you don’t. You’ll stay here until the sun sets, and we’ll continue together.”

“Why should I? If the sun is out I’m not at risk from vampires.”

“It is still a while before we reach your kingdom. You can see that can’t you? At least two more nights where you would be alone if I let you leave. Not to mention the risk from your own brethren. You haven’t been among other humans enough to know that they can be just as malicious.”

“Then give me your horse and I’ll out ride them.”

“When was the last time you rode a horse on your own?” He asks lowering his brow, scoffing as his tongue pokes at the side of his cheek. 

“I-I...” Naturally you can’t remember, and he knows it. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yes of course you’ll be fine, it’s not like there will be vampires nipping at your heels the whole way home. Do you know I could smell the blood trailing from your feet a mile away? I can’t imagine they are in a good state. If the horse were to unseat you and run off, would you even be able to continue?”

You wince at the thought of treading forward on foot. The blisters are already a source of great agony, it’s painful to think what they would be like after another mile or two. 

Yoongi notices the show of discomfort in your face,  “Looks like you’ll be staying with me then your highness.”

“I’d rather not...” You're grateful he’s stopped calling you by the other title, but that still doesn’t prove his loyalty. “Why are you so insistent on taking me home? What’s in this for you?”

“Your company.”

“I am serious,” you groan, casting a dark glare back at him over the candle light.

“So am I.” He mutters his response, it’s so quiet you almost miss it.

“You are insufferable! I should be taking advantage of the daylight, I should be putting more distance between myself and his prison. You should have left me there in the forest so I wouldn’t have to deal with your so-called assistance.”

“Forgive me for wanting to keep you alive and safe. It must be truly awful to have someone come to your aid.”

“You are not someone, you’re a vampire,” you bite back against his sarcasm. “I take no pleasure in being in the company of your kind.”

Yoongi sighs looking defeated, following it with an odd request. “Give me your hand, the one with the wound.”

“Why?” You clutch your palm to your chest in defence. 

“I’ll mend it properly for you, your heels too if you’d like. I want to help undo the damage that my kind has done to you. He should never have left you scarred like that.”

“He shouldn’t have fed off me in the first place!” You shout back your voice echoing off the walls.

“You’re right,” Yoongi levels with you. “But I can’t imagine you want to keep it.”

“I don’t, but I also don’t want help from you! I would rather carry this than any more of your poison. So you can keep your blood to yourself.”

“As you wish,” Yoongi responds, yet he still shifts towards you, encouraging you to back away and keep the space between you. 

“I’m not going to...” His tone sounds exasperated but soon changes to a softer register as he looks at your terror ladened face. “Just, take this.” Yoongi passes over a bed roll before pulling one out for himself from the woven pack. 

You stare at the bedding, questioning it, the convenience of such an item along with supplies all seem too good to be true. “Why would someone who travels alone have a second? Why would a vampire have a stash of water he can’t drink, and food he can’t eat?” 

“I brought them for you. I knew you would need them on the journey.” His answer comes off as thoughtful, but the explanation still doesn’t sit right with you, surely there can be no rational reason as to why he was so ready for your escape.

“You expect me to swallow your perfect timing? That you just happened to be in the right place at the right time, ready to play the role of saviour-”

“Who said the timing was perfect? It has been anything but ideal,” Yoongi growls cutting you off. “I have been trying to get you back ever since I learned that you were taken. But we have limitations that prevented me from just storming his castle. A vampire can not enter the home of another without permission. I tried to get you, believe me I did. While you were trapped inside for five years, I was kept outside for just as long. But I have always been prepared to leave with you at a moment's notice.” 

You were ready to continue your argument again just as he was to finish, but one of his last reveals disarms you with an all too unpleasant fact. “H-how long did you just say?”

“Five years?”

“No... that’s not possible, I can’t remember more than a few months.”

“Prin- your highness.” Yoongi catches himself as you turn to panic.

“Please don’t tell me that he held me for years.” You panicked whispers become sobbing pleas, you would gladly take the lie now. The thought of more tortures of imprisonment lying just below the surface of your memory is enough to make you want to do away with your entire past. Blindly tossing it all away and building it all anew, if only it worked that way.    

“It’s been years, I’m so sorry, but you’ve been with- you’ve been missing for half a decade.” 

“Why? Why would he take that too?” You whisper stand up clutching the scar on your neck, the mark you thought to be the first was likely a only a sequel to many. How many more lie hidden in your skin, healed and masked his blood?  Feeling a pull to leave, you stumble towards the mining shaft’s entrance, unable to take another minute beside a monster who could do the same. Yoongi grabs you from behind, wrapping his hands around your waist to prevent you from progressing any further outside. You strain against him determined to go back out into the open air.  “No, let me go.”

“I can’t do that, your highness.”  

You turn into him pushing against his chest as you shout. “Let me go Yoongi.” He doesn’t stop you from shoving, or cursing him out. He just stands there holding tight as you take out your loss on him. 

“If I were to do that his hunters would find you,” Yoongi warns. “Is that what you want? Because I’m not ready to lose you to him again...” The last of his sentiment drifts off as if he’s said too much. His grip loosens to the point where you can slip away. As much as you want to turn out and run towards the sun he’s right, you can't risk losing another five years or maybe more. He nods down to the bed roll abandoned on the ground. “You should get some rest, you’ll need it for the journey tomorrow.” 

You obey, taking the bedding and lantern, wandering back farther into the cave and further away from the vampire. Slipping off your boots you find the cloth you had wedged in earlier caked with blood. You glance over to your nocturnal companion seeing if the reveal had any effect on him, but he’s already lying down, his back towards you, paying no attention. Desperate to dispose of the temptation you hold the two strips of fabric above the lantern flame. Fortunately they are dry enough to burn, leaving only ashen traces of the linen scraps. You redress your wounds with more fabric from your garment, but before curling under the blankets for the day you take one last precaution. With numerous broken branches littering the floor of the cave, you take the most jagged and sturdy, tucking in by your side. The sharp twig is not quite a stake, but a better defence than nothing at all.

...

Even after travelling all day and night with little rest it takes an age for you to fall asleep, not because of the hard ground, not due to the pain in your legs, nor the questionable motives of your new guard, but the knowledge of who you’ll see once you do. Although Taehyung’s blood has lost control of your physical movements, his hold on your mind is still tight. You know you’ll see him when you drift off, but your exhaustion is unwavering and your need of rest undeniable.  

It seems like only moments after you close your eyes that you’re reunited. He lies there beside you back in his castle, with his own eyes closed, his face content with a small smile as though he’s just fed. But on this night, something’s different. You finally feel as though you have the power to fight back against him. The stake you had stolen from his collection, and promptly lost to the forest, found again by your side. You’ve always wanted this moment, taking vengeance on the one who put you through hell. Even if it is only a dream you’ll embrace it though reality.

Mere inches away from his chest your hand is stopped by his. His eyes fly open and he tackles you back. “Killing me won’t grant you freedom, it won’t stop others from coming for you.”

“Then let them come,” you sneer back at him. “For any life without you Taehyung will be a vast improvement, no matter how short or perilous.” 

There’s a quizzical look on his face, his thumb pushing into your palm trying to get you to realise the stake, “Wake up your highness, it’s not what you think.” 

You are pulled from the dream to find yourself with your pitiful excuse for a weapon in hand. Pointing it at Yoongi’s heart as he hovers over you. You drop it quickly, and attempt to slide out from beneath him out of fear of retaliation. “I thought you were him.” 

He places a heavy hand on your shoulder preventing any further retreat on your part. “I figured that to be the case. Do you have these dreams often?” His tone is not angry, but concerned.

You relax with his understanding, “Every night, he made sure it was so.”

“I know it won’t mend the past, but I’m sorry... for what he’s done to you.”

“I’m sorry I attacked you...” 

“I can’t blame you for that,” Yoongi admits with a curling smile on his lips. “If I looked at myself and saw Taehyung I would respond in the same manner.”

You let out a small chuckle, leading to a surprised expression on Yoongi’s face. His smirk soon turns into a sad smile. “I want you to know, when you are with me, you are safe. No one will feed from you, no one will touch you, myself included.”

...

You wake to the sound of a raven in the early evening, the deep croaks of the bird carrying through the mine. Keeping your head down you glance with narrowed eyes to spy on the vampire who currently ties a small roll of parchment to the leg of the dark creature. It waits patiently on his knee until the knot is firmly in place, letting out another loud cry once Yoongi’s hand retreats. 

“I suppose you’ll be wanting more then?” Yoongi takes his index, and presses it down onto one of his sharp teeth, allowing a bead of blood to form on the tip. The raven then takes his finger into his beak and tilts his head back as it feeds on the red droplets. You start to gag at the sight, alerting Yoongi to your awakened state. The bird takes flight as your escort gets up to check on you, but as he comes closer you draw back. He pauses after his first couple steps, and asks from a distance instead. “Are you alright?”

“Why did you feed it your blood?” You heave again at the thought, but with little in your stomach there is nothing to come up.

“He’s delivering a letter for me. The blood is his reward; it keeps him healthy, but it also allows me to convey where he needs to go and who he needs to find.” 

“It’s disgusting.”

“The raven is more than happy to take it as payment for his service. But I know of what you mean, when the exchange is done improperly...” Yoongi pauses as another wave of nausea overwhelms you again, “Forgive me, I thought you were asleep, I didn’t know you would be watching.”

“What were you sending?”

“Notice to my clan. I left my surveillance post, they will wish to know why.”

“Will that be a problem?” You hadn’t considered groups other than Taehyung’s, but if you can avoid interaction with them all the better.

“No, returning you home will be a greater blow to Taehyung. He has likely built a dependence on your blood and without you he’ll be left in a far weaker state. We might finally have a chance to diminish his hold on the region.” Yoongi takes a brief glance to the entrance and starts to pack away his supplies. “You should ready yourself to leave. The sun is almost down.”

You climb out from your bed roll to find that in the night the blood had seeped through the new makeshift bandage. Yoongi clenches his teeth, and makes another offer. “Please just let me heal them, you'll only need a drop.”

“That’s one drop too much.” You move back unsure if you should be more worried about Taehyung’s men tracking you down, or the more current and looming threat of the vampire in front of you. “Is this going to be a problem for you?” “No,” he confirms, however there’s a slight hesitation in his answer. “But you should go wash up before you lose all daylight, there’s a river just down hill.” He takes a kerchief from his pocket and places it on a rock between you. “You can have this if you’d like. I don’t have any bandages to offer, other than the treatment you find so distasteful.” 

You reach out and grab it. “You won’t be getting this back.” You eye him darkly. 

“That’s fine, just go clean them off before others who may be nearby take note of your aroma.” You observe him with caution, hesitating to pass by his threatening mouth to get to that of the cave’s. “Unless you want to stay and watch me eat.” He comments as he pulls out another soft flask which he carries in his jacket. You cringe as he holds in what is likely a stolen meal.

“What?” He fires back at your critical glare. 

“Do you drain all your victims into wine skins, or just those you wish to save for later?”

“The one who gave me this was not my victim. They were willing to part with it.”

“Willing?” You scoff. “I find that hard to believe. Are you sure you did not slip them some of your own blood first?”

“No I did not, but if you have a problem with how I conduct my feedings you only have yourself to blame.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, you shouldn’t be so quick to judge. Now hurry, so we can make use of this night.”

You do just that, darting past him you leave the mine heading down to the river in the fading sunlight.

...

As you return Yoongi is already outside and packing the horse. With his back to you he pulls an apple from the saddle bag, and the horse turns his head towards the treat with it’s mouth open and reaching. He pulls it back and away from the creature, “I know, I know this should have been yours, but you’ve had enough grass and she needs food. Do you mind sharing?” You watch as he rubs his steed behind the ear and it gives up on it’s want for the fruit. “Thanks, next one is yours, I promise.”

“Am I to thank you or the horse for my meal?” You call out to the vampire.

“You may thank him if you like.” Yoongi hands off the apple to you as you approach.

You can’t help smile as you stand in front of the massive and beautiful stallion letting him smell the back of your hand before you reach you pet the star on his forehead. “What is his name?” 

“Horse...” Yoongi admits. 

“Horse? Surely you jest. Why would you not give him a proper name?”

“He went for so long without one it just stuck.” Yoongi responds as he tightens the girth of the saddle. “What would you have named him?” 

“I’m not sure, but certainly not horse. You poor beast, first he deprives you of a suitable name, then an apple.” You take a few bites but with your stomach still queasy and unable to take anymore, you give the rest to the poorly named steed. Once the bridle and tackle are secure you mount up despite the instant outcry from your legs. You find Yoongi watching you, taking notice but remaining silent. You’re grateful for his lack of discourse, not wanting to have to explain the tenderness of your ass and thighs owing to yesterday’s travel. 

Regrettably, the aches become worse, and after only a couple hours of riding you’re barely able to stay upright. If Yoongi’s arms weren’t circling around you to keep hold of the reins you would have slid to the ground long ago. It seems that he’s no longer able to disregard your comfort though.  “Are you well?”

“Relatively speaking, yes.” You whisper holding in a groan.

“Relative to what?”

“Relative to a week ago.” To your time with Taehyung. You grimace further with each mounted stride.

“I think your scale is skewed. We’ll slow for a bit. Though you might think differently, I have no desire to see you in pain.” He slows his steed to a walk and dismounts, letting you lean back as he leads the horse forward. 

“This is nothing I promise. We should keep the pace up.”

“You wish to be rid of me so soon? Even if it causes you agony?”

“Yes.” Your short reply is enough to make him pause for a second, his face splitting into an open smirk before he continues again.  

“Though I appreciate your honesty, the horse could use a break too.” Yoongi chuckles darkly. “You’ll have to learn how to hold that tongue of yours again once you return to court.”

You take in a sharp breath as a chill runs down your spine. You’ve been so focused on what you are running from you haven’t given thought as what you are running too. “Do you know much about my family, about my life back home?”

“Some.”

“You said I was the last remaining heir. There must have been a time when that wasn’t the case.”

“Your brother...” Yoongi explains, his gaze fixed on the road. “He passed away a few weeks ago. He was very ill, had been all his life.”

You take a deep breath as you register the news, but it’s hard to properly grieve when you can’t recall what you lost. “I wish I could remember-” 

Yoongi must be taking pity on you as he delves further without your prompting. “You loved him very much, but you weren’t as close as you would have liked to have been. His ailment was unknown to many and it prevented him from spending much time with you.”

“How do you know that?” 

“Because you told me.” He whispers, finally meeting your eyes again.  

“Wh-what else do you know? Will you tell me?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “Give it time and you’ll remember on your own. His hold won’t last forever.”

“I still don’t understand why you won’t say more.”

“Because I don’t want to give you a false sense of your past, only to find out later that it was different than I thought, than I hoped. Your affection for your brother was obvious, but with other focuses of your adoration I cannot be sure. So please do not ask much of me. You’ve gone through enough, I have no wish to plant false regard for things you did not actually love.” While Yoongi continues to look up to you his expression takes a sudden shift. His nose lifts into the air and takes a deep breath, before his head snaps back at the road ahead. “Humans... four of them.”

Your heart leaps at the prospect, but Yoongi cuts your anticipation short. “Don’t get too hopeful. They are currently trying to conceal themselves on the path ahead. I doubt their motives are well intended.” He reaches up to tuck a lock of hair that had fallen out from your cap. “Stay on the horse and keep quiet. I’ll deal with them.” 

“But-”

“For your own safety, please do what I ask.” 

The trees growing around the road are thick and dense, your eyes dart between the trunks in hopes to catch movement, but with the forest cloaked in darkness you have little ability to find anything. Minutes pass and just as you are about to question Yoongi, you spot a man with tattered clothes lying in the middle of the dirt road ahead. Thinking he might be a victim of the others mentioned, you make an attempt to dismount. But Yoongi holds your hand firmly on the reins, while he calls out to the casualty. “The wounded traveller? Do people still fall for that?”

There’s a moment of silence before a man emerges from the forest to the left. “You’d be surprised,” he responds, while two more appear on the right. 

The destitute wayfarer on the road gets up and dusts himself off. “It’s a shame you didn’t fall for our ploy, it’s much easier both for us and those who do, so much less blood.  You look to be worth the effort though. I’m sure we could fetch a pretty penny for a steed like that.”

The four close in ranks and advance. Yoongi stays by your side, eyeing their approach, he gives a warning. “For your sake, I hope there will be no blood involved.” 

“Is that a threat?” One of the highwaymen asks. “I should like to see how you plan on besting us without a blade. 

The man closest to you, with a dagger drawn, reaches out to grab hold of your leg. “Come down off the horse lad. There's no point in putting off the inevitable, it’s ours now.” In spite of his weapon you ready to kick the man off, but before your foot can lay into him his grip is torn away. In the blink of an eye Yoongi is on the other side of the horse forcing the assailant  to his knees with an arm behind his back. There’s a loud pop from the thief’s shoulder, resulting in a cry of pain. One of the other bandits charges to free his ally, his sword ready. Yoongi succeeds in dodging the initial thrust of the steel, and with one hand takes the saber, turning it instead on it’s owner. Your vampire escort issues another caution with the point at man’s throat. 

“If you would like your friend to keep use of his arm then I suggest you all back away.” While the disarmed thief retreats backward with his hands in the air, the rest are frozen in place refusing to move. “You think I jest?” Yoongi’s grip tightens while his captive lets out a shout. The little effort used on the vampires part to make the man submit finally prompts his fellows to take two steps back. “I swore to my companion that no one would touch them on this journey. You’ve made me break that promise, and I am not pleased.” There’s a deep growl to his voice that sends chills through even you. “I should take this limb in payment, and maybe one from each in your party too.”

“Yoongi....” You whisper in a low tone.

He turns back to you with a slight smirk. “But you are lucky, my friend prefers mercy. It’s far more than you deserve.” Yoongi lowers his head muttering into the bandits ear. “I’ll tell you what. You may keep your arm, but you and your men will abandon your camp, head south and keep walking. You will tell no one of us, and if I ever come across your path again I will not hesitate to act on my threats.”

Yoongi releases the man allowing him to scramble away as he clutches his shoulder. The other three support their injured cohort as they run off. 

Yoongi takes hold of the horse from the ground once again, leading you off the road. “Their camp it’s just this way. They might have had some supplies which will be of use to us.”

You only nod in response unsure of what to say, after what you just witnessed. The first humans you had interacted with in years, and here they intended to rob you. 

The smoke of their smouldering fire draws you in. Yoongi’s hunch was right, they had a good deal of useful items. Rations for you, along with spare changes of clothes. He fills a bag and ties it on the saddle, leaving their stolen riches along with the blade behind for someone else to find. 

He mounts up behind you again, carrying on forward for some time before speaking again. “Are you well your highness? You’ve been very quiet.”

You give him another nod, while chewing on your lip. “Why south?”

“That’s where my own clan’s territory lies. If they try to pull something like that again they’ll regret it.” He shifts in the saddle behind you, “Back there, I-I didn't scare you did I?”

You fall silent again, unable to confess he somewhat had, but also that the terror of your fellow mankind outweighed his by far. You fear the idea of having crossed them alone. They would have taken advantage of your mercy, who knows where you would be now if it weren’t for the self-proclaimed guard at your side. 

Yoongi seems to take your lack of answer as confirmation of his worry. “I needed them to see me as a vicious monster, had they not backed off I would have had to become one. I’m sorry you had to witness the threat but it was necessary. I needed to terrify them for their sake and yours. I promise didn’t intend to frighten you, only to keep you safe. ” 

...

Coming close to the break of day you find rest this time in a small abandoned house. The windows shuttered completely to prevent even the smallest stream of light from entering. Unlike the night before Yoongi doesn’t light the lantern. It’s so dark inside that he has to lead you to an empty space of floor for you to rest on. He takes a couple steps away, giving you some space before settling down himself once again between you and the door.

“I’m not going to run, you’ve made your point, or I should say the thieves did.”

“I don’t rest between you and the exit to keep you here, but to stop others from entering,” Yoongi explains. “These spots I’ve scoped out, I am not alone in using them. They are how my kind travels, some might have found different places to rest away from the sun, but I can tell that others have used this location. Don’t go examining your surroundings too closely, you might not like what you find.”

Now thankful for the darkness, you take your bed roll from Yoongi. “Rest easy,” he mutters as you climb in between in the blankets.

“Not likely,” you whisper back. “But thank you.”

Unfortunately you are correct, your sleep is once again disturbed by Taehyung. You catch a glimpse of his face before you're surrounded by him. The darkness holds you in a suffocating grip, your mouth slowly filling with blood. You struggle trying to breath reaching out to take a hold of anything that would pull you out. 

A hand grabs on to the side of your face, another on to your arm. Finding the shine of Yoongi’s eyes once you're able to open your own, you gasp out to him begging for some sort of relief. “Can’t see... can’t breath...”

He picks you up only to set you back down on the floor a second later. There's a click and the front door opens to reveal a narrow shaft of sunlight. A single beam a couple inches wide, but it’s enough to dispel the darkness inside. Your eyes start to water, blinded by the light, but it’s far too warm and comforting to deny yourself the sight.    

To your disgust there’s a lingering taste of blood in your mouth. Reminding you of the shackles that still bind you to Taehyung as it continues to overwhelm your senses. Yoongi’s voice flows from the darkness just to the side of the door, his eyes glowing like that of a predator’s. “I think you might have bitten your tongue in your sleep, your highness.” 

He’s right, you find a sore spot as you press it to the roof of your mouth. You make an attempt to focus back on the sun. You sit there in silence letting your breath and heart return to a normal rate. All while Yoongi’s eyes continue to watch you, burning in the darkness. He apologizes for his gaze, but does not withdraw his attention, “Sorry but it’s been so long since I’ve seen someone bask in the sun. I’ve forgotten what it feels like myself...”

“How long?”

“I lost count around the century mark, but it’s likely been double that.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Yes, but I understand. Immortality is a large price to pay, and every monster must have an equal weakness.”

“But I suppose, not everything it repels is a monster.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow as if he’s hiding a small smile in the darkness. “Dare I say, that sounds almost like a compliment?”

“Merely an observation,” you whisper, but your words trigger something inside you, a pain and longing which you can’t explain. “Yoongi, what were we to one another before...” Before Taehyung interrupted your life. “Please I know you don’t wish to speak for me, but I need to know your view of what we were.”

“We were friends, just friends.” He responds but you're not convinced, just friends do not wait outside the home of their enemy for five years. Just friends don’t put their entire life on hold for another. Just friends aren’t overwhelmed with the desires that seem to be returning to you now.

You’ve seen this expression on him before, you know you have. On the edge of your memories lies a dark cavernous stone built hall, one in which only you and him resided. You find him crumbling under the weight of what he is and what he’s lost because of that. Fragments of your words and his surface in your mind.

“You are not a monster Yoongi, I do not need saving from you!”

“If not from me, then at least from my kind. I cannot give you the life nor the safety which lies here... You would be better off if you forgot me entirely.”

You remember your wish to comfort him, to embrace him and prove that he has not lost everything because of what he is. With the recollection fading, falling from your grasp, you panic out of fear of losing the brief moment of memory. Closing the door you move towards Yoongi, the only focus you have of your previous life, hoping the scene in your mind might continue.

“I don’t need saving from you,” you mutter, blinded by the rapid loss of light, reaching out in an attempt to find him again. 

He takes your hand and holds it, his cool fingers trailing soothing lines over the mark on your palm. “If not from me, then at least from my kind,” he responds, following the path of your dialogue from long before. “You remember our last meeting?” 

“Only a fraction of it. I remember wanting to...” To confess to him, to kiss him, that was your past self was leaning towards. You thought well enough of him to desire an intimacy with one who feeds on others... that can’t be right. But even now you can start to see the appeal your younger self cared for. His soft touch on your hand, his calming presence, and protection, those are not qualities of a monster. And in the memory you were worried that he would reject your affection, that he would be the one to pull away, not you. “Did you ever desire to be more than friends?”

His eyes grow wide at your question, but his stance remains the same. “You know I will not answer that.” 

“But this is regarding your feelings, not my own!”

“I will say no more of us. I’ve told you far too much already.” He leaves the topic at that, directing you to your present state instead. ”There’s a few more hours before sunset... do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

You shake your head and move to sit with your back against the boards of the wall. Your reply is slow to come, and muddled with the first gasp of tears. “I can’t...” The prospect of closing your eyes again is too terrifying.

Yoongi comes to sit beside you, as he continues to hold your hand, his other arm wraps your shoulders as you let out the pain. A couple of hours ago you would have pushed him away out of fear, but with the spark of your past self craving his presence, who are you to deny the support it needs. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I have to keep my view from you. I don’t want to add to the damage that has been done.”

“There is not more damage that could be done. All I have to remember is a few months spent in agony and terror. How can I find comfort or rest when that is all I have? I have no knowledge of who or what made me happy, or of what dreams chased away the nightmares.”

“An adventure,” Yoongi mutters, his head bowed to the floor as he concedes with another part of your past. “You always dreamed of having an adventure.” 

You let out a broken and weeping scoff, crestfallen that your ambitions to learn more only exposed a further divide. “I find that hard to believe.” 

“Your parents were overprotective, because of your brother's condition. You were forced to keep to the castle, you just longed for something different.” His thumb rubs along the back of your hand as he holds it. 

“But I don’t feel like one to see the risk of adventures as desirable.”

“You’ve been through much since then, fear has a way of changing what we want. I will admit I wished for you to be more careful back then, but never at a cost like this.” 

“I don’t know if I will ever be that person again...” You draw your knees to your chest letting your head lull to the side and onto him. 

“That’s okay,” His arm grips you tighter, as his face lowers to the top of your head. His lips briefly brush against your hair, before his cheek comes down to rest, taking their place. “That’s why I’m taking you home.” 

...

[beewolfwrites]

The Oar in the Sand - Chapter Two: The First Day of Nostos

And the second chapter is here! I feel evil for writing this, buuutt we need drama. And plot. 

For those who are new to the AIB fandom, this is the sequel to my other Chishiya x OC/Reader fic - you can find the first one, and the Chishiya pov side series, either on AO3 or on my Tumblr. 

I’ll keep this short and sweet, and leave the AO3 link to this chapter here. 

And the link to my AO3 profile where you’ll find the other fics is here.  

As always, thanks for reading! Your support means the world :D

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Daylight spilled through the window onto the empty side of the bed. It wasn’t unusual for Chishiya to wake up before me, although usually in my dreaming I would feel the dip of the mattress as he left. I must’ve been in such a deep sleep that I hadn’t noticed. But that’s okay. I needed all the rest I could get.

Rubbing my eyes, I stretched out a hand to feel the sheets. They were still warm, as was the light that enveloped my fingers in its glow. It would have been peaceful morning, here in the sun and the cosy sheets, if not for the budding anticipation within me.

Noon.

That’s when it all starts.

Kicking back the covers, I forced myself to get up and dressed. No matter how much I wanted to laze around, there was no telling what would happen, and so I chose more comfortable, practical clothes – cropped cargo pants, with a t-shirt and hoodie. It was only when I headed down the creaky stairs into the overwhelming silence of the living room, that Chishiya’s absence became even more apparent.

If he wasn’t down here, that left only one place he could be.

Is he aware of how predictable he is?

Emptying a bottle of water into a pan, I lit up the camping stove, watching as the water slowly frothed into simmer before bubbling away. Then spooning some instant coffee into two small mugs, I poured some of the water into each. It wasn’t great, but it was the closest thing to a real cup of coffee we could get in this world. Carefully carrying the two mugs, I stepped outside, and immediately squinted under the sun’s glare.

If it’s this high in the sky, there can’t be much longer now.

Just around the side of the store was a fire escape ladder. I had practiced this a few times, holding both mug handles in one hand, as I shakily clambered up to the roof. I only spilled a couple of drops, but it was nothing compared to the first time I tried to do this. Moving slowly, I slid onto the rooftop.

And there he was.

Lounging near the edge, one knee bent up, Chishiya was staring out at the cityscape. The first thing I noticed when I sat beside him was the mug in his hand. And once again, I felt like an idiot.

‘You already made coffee?’ I set the unwanted extra between us, eyeing his steaming mug. ‘And you didn’t leave any for me.’

‘You were fast asleep,’ he replied, taking a sip. ‘It would have gone cold.’

‘You could’ve woken me up.’

‘And if I had, you would have complained all morning.’

I hate to admit it, he’s kind of right.

I clutched my own mug, letting the warmth seep into my fingers as I counted each blimp suspended over the city. So far, nothing had changed from yesterday. But then again, it also wasn’t noon yet. Slowly drinking my coffee, I sighed. ‘I guess I’ll just have to drink twice as much now.’

Chishiya didn’t even bother entertaining me with a reply. He seemed content with the peace and quiet. Only, when he finally set down his empty mug, he reached for the extra one.

I raised a brow. ‘I thought you didn’t want it.’

He began to drink it anyway. ‘These cups are too small.’

I dipped my head into my mug to hide my smile, although knowing him, he probably saw it anyway. The sun was now gleaming above the empty city, nearly at its highest point in the sky. Apprehension swelled uncomfortably within me, and I wrapped my arms around my knees while I finished my coffee. ‘Are you going to go to the Jack of Diamonds today?’

‘The Queen and King too,’ he said. ‘I’ll work my way up.’

It was fine. It was fine. Chishiya was clever enough to survive, and I had every confidence that he would complete the games easily. More importantly, he was the most intelligent person I’d ever met. If anyone stood a chance at clearing the Diamond face cards so we could all go home, it was him. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t scared.

He could still get hurt. He could still...

It didn’t bear thinking about.

‘At least let me come with you.’ Before he could protest or decline, I added, ‘Just to wait outside. I can’t sit here, not knowing anything.’

His expression was guarded as he downed the last of his coffee. ‘Do what you want. Although you might be waiting a while. I don’t know how long the games will last.’

A loud gunshot blasted in the distance. I jumped, inching closer to Chishiya. He was stone still. Another shot ricocheted, the clap echoing off the concrete skyscrapers. Were guns usually that loud? Loud enough to be heard all the way from here? This sounded almost like an explosion, only sharper.

Something’s not right.

And I knew exactly what.

Chishiya set his second empty mug on the rooftop. ‘It’s started.’

-----------------------------------------------

The city streets were deserted, yet I couldn’t help but stay on my guard. While the games were contained to their venues, that gunfire before hadn’t been normal – I’d witnessed enough of Niragi’s sniper to know the difference. It had gone on for several minutes, before eventually ebbing away, and only then did we set out for the Jack of Diamonds venue.

Despite the threat of the games ahead, Chishiya appeared relaxed on the surface, but there was a slight crease between his brows, and his eyes scanned every alleyway we passed, occasionally drifting to our reflections in store windows. His hands were pushed into his pockets, and I didn’t dare try to hold one.

‘Are you worried about the game?’ I kept my voice low, just in case.

‘You shouldn’t have come with me.’

I thought we’d already talked about this.

There was no way I could sit around in our little hideout, never knowing whether or not he was going to come back. I needed to be there. I needed to see the outcome with my own eyes.

‘You told me to do what I want,’ I said. ‘And this is what I want. I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Those guns were probably from a game.’

‘Maybe... maybe not,’ he mused.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Chishiya may not be the easiest person to read, but we both knew what he was really trying to say. We rounded a corner, heading further into the city centre. From what we could see of the blimps, the Jack, Queen and King of Diamonds were all pretty close to one another, and all within a reachable distance from the furniture store.

‘You should be more worried about your game,’ I remarked.  

‘Why?’

‘What do you mean, ‘why’? You could... you know.’

‘If I die, it’ll be of no consequence for you,’ he said. ‘And besides, I’ll die at some point anyway. There’s no use in trying to avoid it.’

His words no longer scared me, but rather, they were upsetting. How could he be so cavalier about it?

He really doesn’t care about his own life...

‘It does have consequence. I told you in the dealer’s den, didn’t I? If you’re not going to try and survive for yourself, then at least do it for me.’

The corner of his mouth lifted into that familiar sly smile. ‘Such big demands. You shouldn’t waste your own life being concerned about mine.’

We crossed the road, entering a new street, and the metal edge of a blimp appeared in the far distance.

‘I think I told you about that too. I can’t help being scared for you.’ I glanced away, looking instead at the side of a van. The words still felt strange to say out loud, even if I’d said them so brazenly during the Witch Hunt. ‘I lo—’

The van door erupted in a hot blast of glass and metal. The force blew me back, stumbling, as something struck my face. Hands gripped my forearms, dragging me away from the ground – I was on the ground? – and pulling me in a direction. I didn’t know where we were. The streets were shaking, or maybe I was. Maybe the whole world was shaking. And was that Chishiya in front of me?

Chishiya?

There was red in his blond hair and on his neck, wet and glistening. And his fingers were tight – far too tight – around my wrist. Where was he going? My feet were moving after him. No, he was the one dragging me like this, swaying us back and forth erratically. My eyes began to focus, the fog in my head clearing a little.

The gunshots... and that van. But how could a gun do that to a van?

‘Chishiya?’

If he heard me, his only response was to pull me harder until his fingernails dug into my skin. My numb legs jittered and tingled, but I tried my best to keep up with him. There was a strange humming above our heads, and I looked up, catching sight of a blimp overshadowing the office buildings above, darkening their windows and...

A gleam.

‘Chishiya!’

Glass exploded everywhere as the store window behind us shattered. Someone screamed – they sounded like me, only I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t... Someone tugged at my clothes, but I tore away, sprinting as fast as I could down the street. There was a shooter. There was someone shooting at us.

Side to side... I need to run from side to side.

As I ran, I veered in different directions, trying to keep things as unpredictable as possible. I ducked around corners and alleys, only to realise something. Chishiya was nowhere to be seen.

Don’t panic.

I slowed, breathless, as I swung onto another street, dipping behind a store.

Don’t panic.

The store crashed apart; the windows destroyed. Arms shielding my face, I toppled to the ground, coughing uncontrollably at the smell of hot plastic as mannequin limbs scattered the pavement.

I needed to run... I needed to run. My head was throbbing and burning now. Picking myself up, I pushed to keep going, running no matter how much my limbs ached. There was a strange buzzing noise that clashed painfully with the ringing in my ears.

And then I saw a glimmer of hope.

Across a traffic intersection was a large, off-white building with endless windows, marked 図書館. The entrance door shut softly as someone took shelter inside.

There!

The buzzing noise grew louder and louder, and my vision swam as I tore across the empty roads and into the building, slamming the door behind me. My legs finally gave way, and I collapsed against the wall, my eyes closing as I caught my breath.

Chishiya. I lost sight of him after that window was destroyed. Maybe he ran in the other direction. Or maybe... No.

He can’t be. He wouldn’t, not that easily.

‘It’s you.’

My eyes shot open at the familiar voice. Of all people to bump into, An was staring down at me with mild concern. It was An. Surging with relief, I tried to get to my feet to greet her, only my head flashed with dizzying pain.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Don’t get up. You’ll need your strength.’ I didn’t understand. She came in here to shelter too, right? Before I could question her, she crouched down in front of me and gently touched my forehead. Her fingers came back red. ‘What happened?’

My lungs ached with each syllable. Just getting the words out was a struggle. ‘苣屋一緒...にいた. ダイヤモンドのジャックに... 行っていた. 銃の音... が聞きた. すべて...’ I was together with Chishiya... We were going to the Jack of Diamonds... I heard gun sounds... and then everything...

I didn’t know the words for ‘gunshots’ or ‘explosion’, but An still nodded in understanding. Her eyes narrowed a little at Chishiya’s name, only she didn’t appear to be surprised by what I told her.

‘That’ll be the King of Spades. His sniper isn’t a regular gun. It’s designed to penetrate airships and armoured cars apparently.’

I didn’t understand the latter half of what she said, but one name stuck out unmistakably.  

The King of Spades?

‘どう知ってるか?’ I asked. How do you know?

An gestured behind her, and I finally noticed the two women anxiously watching us. One had long, flowing blond hair and was wearing a thin headband. The other had brown hair tied up in pigtails. ‘He attacked our camp right after the second stage started.’

So those were the gunshots we heard on the roof. And their camp...

‘Kuina?’

An lowered her head to the tiled floor. ‘I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know where she is. She left in a car with Arisu and Tatta. We were in a separate car and we drove all the way here.’

Kuina... she has to be alive. I refuse to believe otherwise.

She was strong and smart, and if she drove away with those two, she was probably okay.

Probably.

It made sense that the King of Spades started with their group, then travelled further into the city centre before running into Chishiya and I. But if he was moving to attack players then that could only mean... A sickening feeling grew in the pit of my stomach.

‘彼のゲーム会場,’ I said, ‘全部の東京だね?’ His game venue. It’s all of Tokyo, isn’t it?

‘It seems that way,’ An said, adjusting her sunglasses. ‘From what I can assume, the only place that isn’t his game venue is within other games.’ She glanced reassuringly at the other girls behind her. ‘While we’re in here, we should be safe from him, at least.’

At least?

A horrible thought slipped into my mind. A really, really horrible thought. But I almost didn’t want to believe it. It would be too unlucky – a downright cruel trick of fate.

My apprehensiveness must’ve been obvious, as An tilted her head, curiously. ‘You didn’t know,’ she murmured. ‘この建物はダイヤモンドの女王会場だ.’

No, it couldn’t be true. Maybe I misheard. I had to have misheard. My mind ran in circles, desperate to find Chishiya, to go home and finish my sentence, tell him what I tried to say before the van windows burst. But Chishiya wasn’t here. I didn’t know where he was. I was alone.

Assuming I hadn’t quite understood, An said it again, slower this time. There was no need. My fate was already sealed the moment I took shelter here.

‘This is the Queen of Diamonds venue.’

[wet-towel-socrates]

Yuu Composes Themes for the Overblot Gang

Part 2: Azul, Jamil, Vil

Click here for part 1 and what my self imposed rules are.

Azul: Organization XIV

Okay this one is kind of a stretch but it's what I've got to work with. With this piece, composer!Yuu is much more focused on conveying Azul and the Tweel's aura. I personally love their dynamic, but I think Yuu still fears them and does not trust them, and so it comes out in this song. Here they lay out how it felt to walk into Azul's den for the first time, after hearing countless rumors and warnings never to go there, bc he and the Leech twins will eat them alive. It felt like they just signed over their life the moment they stepped in. The twins are watching them as they cautiously try to navigate the lounge, and no matter where or how many times they encounter Azul and the tweels, it always feels like the first time.

The actual piece is the theme for an organization of beings that cannot feel emotions, thought to be empty husks. The castle they live in is bare and everything is blinding white, and when a meeting occurs they sit in thrones that encircle and tower over you, literally. Everything about them, and by extension their theme, embodies the feeling of judgemental gazes glaring down upon you, knowing you are nothing but a small ant in their lair, yet there's something terribly wrong here that they're not telling you about. Something quite sad and somber. And I felt like the Mostro Lounge gang could relate to that. Then the bells ring at the 3:20-3:30 mark and it feels like toll of whoever unlucky enough to sign a contract with them that their time is over and they need to pay the price.

Jamil: The Road of Trials

Jamil was the only character that didn't have multiple song choices. It was this one from the start.

The name. I mean come on. Yuu would want to focus on Jamil's hidden personality as well as his day to day struggles, so they would compose this song to be lively but not in a jovial way. It's more like right off the bat he is being pulled in all different directions all at once by Kalim (like the 25 sec mark with the switch in flute, cello, and sitar[plz correct me on this]). It's all overwhelming (0:50) but he manages to keep his calm (1:00). There's still so much going on, but he holds on steady is the main theme of this piece. He has so much against him, and so much left to power through now that everyone knows how capable and untrustworthy he is. The cymbals sprinkled in the piece (0:42 and 4:01) also quite fittingly sound like rattle of a rattlesnake which gets extra points for me.

I think the change at 2:40 could represent how Yuu truly sees Jamil. There is so much more to Jamil that he's forced to hide and should someone get to see it, it would be a beautiful sight. But what really sells this track is the last 20 seconds of it: the booming drums and the crescendo of the strings feel like a omen for something harrowing, like a warning for his eventual OB. It's beautiful and also frightening, like a chill down Yuu's spine. It would be like their reminder for everyone listening that darkness sleeps within Jamil's heart.

Vil: The West Wing

I am the most iffy on this one. I thought "Possessed by Disease" by Keiichi Okabe had a perfect intro, like this festering wound that he's been scratching for years finally consumes him in envy, but it has a loop as well as vocals so I had to turn it down. As far as I'm concerned, "A Beautiful Song" IS Vil's theme and would be what Yuu would want to do, but it has lyrics and a loop so it can't count :'( Goddammit So this is what I felt fit the general vibe.

It's a film score, and I know Yuu would want Vil's to sound that way as just a little easter egg for him. As for the piece itself, Yuu would want to focus on the duality of Vil, as in this beautiful accomplished person everyone sees versus the hideous, envious feelings he keeps under wraps. I liked how classic this sounded as well, like you can tell this is a fairy tale taking place in a stone walled castle, something I can picture Vil himself inhabiting. The violins and harp within the first 1:30 both make the piece feel haunting and beautiful, and the song often goes back and forth between it.

After that when the beast in the movie makes his appearance, it starts to pick up steam and we hear violin cues (2:05 and 2:15) that Yuu could use to represent Vil's descent into seething hatred for Neige. And from there it just gets turbulent and self destructive as the Evil Queen herself. I picture between 3:20-3:30 that the cymbal and horn cues are Vil throwing things and destroying their room as they wonder what it is they're missing. What does Neige have that he doesn't?

[kendo413]

ValVarez headcanons pt 1

Here are Judy/Fem!V (or ValVarez as I have started calling them in my head) headcanons that kind of took on a narrative, and then kind of lost the plot along the way. These were the result of possibly the worst migraine of my life. I needed a distraction, so I started typing up some headcanons I thought of for the streetkid!V I was playing at the time, and then kept expanding it until I could finally fall asleep.

I will try say there are some spoilers for the game in here, and I will try to hide them under the fold or whatever. None of this is likely unique at this point, so if anything feels like it should be in your fic, have at it. Will be at least two parts after I realized just how much I had typed up during the migraine.

Something is off about this Merc. She isn't posturing, or boasting - she doesn't even seem to be wearing clothes that fit. When she speaks Judy can reluctantly admit that she does so without even a trace of guile.

The merc - V - is a BD virgin. Judy was confused about this turn, to say the least. Not many make it to her age, or at least as old as V appears to be, without at least making use of an educational BD.

Judy has never seen someone as strong as V, or at least, not someone with 'ganic limbs. Even the Animals probably haven't put as much steroid-free effort into their body as V clearly has. Judy has a lot of opportunity to admire her while V is in the test BD.

Evelyn has to convince V not to bolt from the chair the second the trial BD concludes. The merc shifts with anxious energy, looking a little green around the gills, and any doubts Judy had that V may have been lying about being a BD virgin go right out the window. She is intrigued, despite herself.

A netrunner is brought in, and Judy spends the whole of the Konpeki BD scowling at her monitors.

Not many people say "Thank you" in Night City. Somehow it fits that V, the big bad merc that she is, makes a point to say thanks despite how nauseas the BD experience has clearly made her. Maybe it was a mistake to give her that BD wreath.

Evelyn thinks she's sweet, and Judy is all too quick to remind her of her terrible judgement when it comes to people. Present company excluded of course.

Judy thinks this is all a terrible idea. Capable or not, nothing good can come from putting faith in the candid merc. Evie insists that V is an adorable murder machine regardless.

Judy was right in the end. She wasn't happy about it though. Not when Evelyn went back to Clouds a few days later.

V is back, Evelyn is missing, and they need each other right now. Judy doesn't have to like it.

It was terrifying to watch V work. Like a switch flipped and all of the restless, shifting energy she returned from wherever-the-fuck with was exchanged for focus.

V is uncommonly fast as well as strong, apparently. Her blade sings through the air with merciless precision, and her footsteps only make noise when she wants them to. V is is like a vengeful specter, and Judy is glad they're on the same side.

V enjoys her work, and seems more alive than ever leaving a trail of scav bodies behind her. She also stops to check every broken and discarded corpse along the way to make sure it isn't Evie's so that Judy doesn't have to.

After they rescue Evelyn and bring her safely to Judy's apartment, Judy realizes she can still hear the echoes of screams and gunfire left over from the rescue. She can't feel an ounce of remorse even now, hours after V sent heads and limbs flying as they hacked their way to Evelyn.

Judy is grateful to V for the care she's shown. For listening to Judy's direction in the scroller den, for saving Evelyn's interrogation for another day despite how desperate she was to find the Doll when they first made contact. For the first time, Judy feels ashamed of her snap judgement of V. Yes, her clothes never match or even fit her on any of the occasions they've interacted, and yeah, she has personally watched V pick up a discarded can of Chromanticore and finish it off, but she is also kinder than anyone Judy has met in years.

Evelyn is dead, and V is the only one she can call. V who is terrible with words but somehow knows exactly what to say to help Judy focus on the important things. She's helpful, and trying so hard to keep them both together.

V distracts her when the badges come. Tells her about meeting Jackie - how he shoved a gun in her face, then brought her home for lunch a few hours later. By the time they leave Judy isn't in cuffs, so the distraction must have helped.

Judy begins making plans. Wallowing in sadness never helped anyone in this city.

She's getting the feeling that V may have a crush on her. She also gets the feeling that V didn't like whatever she found while snooping on Maiko's comp, if the line of not-subtle-at-all questions as they leave are any indication.

They kill Woodman, and Judy doesn't feel any better. V tries her best to help, and it's the earnestness that Judy once found so off-putting that helps more than the words themselves.

V checks in on Judy in between jobs. She sends pictures from the Badlands that she thinks Judy would like to see. Judy ignores the way it bothers her to see some other woman in the background of more than a few.

Maiko makes it clear that she doesn't want the "freak merc" anywhere near this revolution. Judy is extra pleased to inform her that V is a vital, non-negotiable part of the mission.

V is dying, and Judy feels like someone pulled the rug out from under her. She thought V was being dramatic the first time she said so, but now she knows better. V falls asleep on her couch while Judy tells her about the unsuccessful line of BD blooper reels Sue had her work on a few months back.

V invites Judy to El Coyote Cojo a few days later for dinner. Rather, she invites Judy to Mama Welles's place for dinner, because V can't cook to save her life.

Mama Welles has endless stories about V and Jackie's misadventures. Judy is impressed that neither of them ended up in jail based on the amount of times they've had to pull each other out of the fire. By the end of the night, Mama Welles insists Judy call her when she needs to.

Sometimes, on a particularly bad night, Judy idly wonders how many people V has murdered that day. It seems she is always finding trouble to get into the middle of even just walking down the street. She doesn't want a number, but on very bad days it comforts her to know that if nothing else, they all at least had it coming. Maybe the world is a little bit better because V is in it, doing her thing.

V disappears without a trace for a few days. No pictures, no texts, not even a blip on the street about that sword wielding merc jumping into save some random citizens from gang violence. Judy tries not to worry but ends up going through a whole pack of cigs anyway.

Judy ends up calling Mama Welles who reassures her that V is probably just sick. V gets sick a lot with the way she eats whatever she finds but it's a habit they've not been able to break. Judy still can't reach V on the holo, but she does get an invite to dinner so she at least has company in her worry.

When V reappears, she is only slightly worse for wear and closed off about her whereabouts. Rumors start to surface about a massacre in a Pacifica church, and Judy doesn't ask.

Despite Maiko's best efforts, Clouds is liberated. Judy visits Evelyn's niche to tell her it's done, and finds V has left her cigarette case there.

Judy begins planning something new.

Judy gets a call from V, but not V. Panam on V's holo, the woman in the background of the photos. Panam is rude, but seems terrified and keeps going off on tangents about how V doesn't even have a security pin on her holo. "Doesn't she realize how dangerous it is when anyone can just access all her shit if she loses it?"

V is getting worse, and Judy feels helpless when all she can really tell Panam is to let V sleep it off. Panam thanks Judy for "being so helpful, truly appreciate the insight." If Judy weren't so sure Panam was V's output, she would admire how much "Fuck you" the feisty woman managed to inject into every syllable.

V stops by late the next day and apologizes for Panam. Judy suspects it's on Panam's advice when V not-so-subtly insists, on six separate occasions during the visit, that she and Panam are just friends.

Later, Panam calls Judy herself and apologizes. Judy makes a joke about V surrounding herself with temperamental women, which sets off teasing on Panam's followed by bickering between the nomads Judy wasn't aware could hear them chatting. She thinks she understands what V sees in Panam, now. It must feel like coming home, having to pull Panam out of the fires she creates after losing Jackie.

Judy invites V to Laguna Bend, and aside from V nearly drowning, the evening is perfect.

[whimsicallyreading]

Dark Roast No Sugar

Chapter Three

Aelin would never admit it out loud, but a day off was just what she needed. She spent the morning napping, snacking, and reading. Her stomach settled, and when she took off her shoes, her feet didn't look like they belonged to a bloated cadaver.

 Spending that time with Aedion was also refreshing. He kept the conversations light. Telling her about the antics between hostesses at The Pits, a run-in between Ren and the police. A story about the drug dealer they'd roughed up and how he'd pissed his pant when he saw Aedion and the stray puppy Kyllian had snuck into The Den.

 When they got hungry, Aedion offered to make them a late lunch. Her mouth watered at the prospect of his famous grilled cheese with two kinds of cheeses and ketchup.

 Lysandra came up to join them for lunch and her nose wrinkled at the sight of them dragging the cheesy goodness through globs of red sauce. "By the dark god, you two. That's disgusting."

 Aedion grins, a dot of ketchup on his chin, "You haven't even tried it yet. This meal is a riot with the guys and saved my ass with foster siblings." He wiped his face on his sleeve and leaned back in his chair. "You don't shit on the kid who can actually make edible food."

 Aelin laughs and dusts her hands off like a lady. "Actually, you don't shit on the kid who looks like he started doping at eleven. But yeah, I'm sure it was your budget lunches that saved you."

 "Shut up, you love it when I cook," Aedion collected their plates.

 Lysandra pulls up the chair next to Aelin's at their tiny, rickety table. She set down her container of salad, looking classier with her more mature pallet. Aelin swiped a cucumber from the top and chewed into the seasoned veggie. "Your food is nostalgic. What can I say?"

 Aedion's playful demeanor seemed to deflate suddenly, a furrow creasing his brow. "I suppose why I have you two together, we should talk some business."

 "Uh oh, that doesn't sound good." Lysandra tensed up, shooting a worried look at Aelin.

 "Is it the bidding for this month? I told you I could get at least an extra hundred dollars to you by the end of the month. If you need more, I could-"

 Aedion cut off Aelin's rambling with a raised hand. "It's not the bidding. Elias pulled enough to cover our bets for the month." Relief flooded through her, and she breathed out a sigh of relief.

 The underground fighting game in Orynth was wildly exclusive. To get a spot during prime hours when tickets were hot and the betting pool was hotter, the local gangs had to participate in an auction. It was pricey, but the cuts you got from winning a fight made up for it big time.

  Unfortunately, the Bane was not a wealthy group of men. A lot of them had families or relatives they were supporting. They usually scavenged up enough money to get two or three guys into the fights, and those funds were just enough to pull them through to the next month.

 Like Aelin, those families did what they could to fund money towards the bidding. Initially, she was going to volunteer as a fighter, but she found out about the baby, and they all agreed it was too risky for her to get in the ring. As soon as she was cleared, she still intended to participate in the fights to Aedion's chagrin.

 Between the extra patrols of her street and snuffing the rumors of her existence in the city, it took a chunk of the Bane's recourses and time. Aedion assured her that the guys understood her circumstances, but she contributed as much as she could monetarily until she could contribute physically as well. "What's going on then?"

 "Rolf took a beating in the ring last night. He's going to be out of commission for a while, but we didn't lose any money. He managed to bust the guy's head at the last moment and pulled through." He paused.

 Aelin was confused, though. It wasn't uncommon for one of the guys to get roughed up a bit, so long as they didn't lose, there wasn't an issue. "That's too bad about Rolf, but I don't see the problem?" she pushed him to continue.

 "He swears the guy was tripping on Synth," Aedion breathes out, pained.

 Oh.

 "Shit," Lysandra swears and stands up. "Is he sure it was Synth?"

 "It's kinda hard to rutting mistake, Lysandra," Aedion snapped. He was right, though. The Pits had rules against cheating, but they were followed loosely. If they couldn't see a knife being pulled, the fight wouldn't be called. Some of the Bane even doped before a match just so they wouldn't get caught at a disadvantage.

 Synth had a lot of physical effects. Adrenalin coursed through the user at such high rates it was practically superhuman. It gave them crazy speed, strength, and heightened focus. On the flip side, it also caused fever, bulged veins, twitching, bloodshot eyes, and uncontrollable rage as you came down. It would be hard to mistake it for any other street drug. Aelin had taken Synth once before, and it wasn't an easily forgettable experience.

 The detail they were glossing over was that only one person was currently capable of leaking a drug like Synth on the streets.

Arobynn Hammel

 "So," Aelin finally said, breaking up the heated glares they were sharing. "He's making his presence in Orynth known."

 Quiet.

 "We can't know it for sure," Aedion looked at her with a sickening amount of pity. Aelin didn't want sympathy or comforting falsities. She wanted the truth.

 "Bullshit," Aelin declared, making Aedion wince at the sudden sharpness. "We've had sightings of Tern and Mulligan already. We knew he was sending eyes out. They must have seen us."

 Lysandra sunk back into her chair and rested her head in her hands. "I thought we made it?" her voice sounded extraordinarily young, feeble. Not at all like the vivacious woman they were used to seeing.

 "Lys," it was Aelin's turn to rest a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

 Her eyes were glassy and hollow when she looked up. "I really had myself believing we made it."

 Aelin's heart broke for her.

 Arobynn was a sick son of a bitch. She, Lysandra, and Sam had all come into his care at different times and served various functions within the Manor. One thing was the same though, they were all children.

 They were all coerced into doing grotesque things for Arobynn's sake. Things that they should, in all honesty, spend years in therapy to recover from. Yet, some horrors were too big for even Aelin to pretend to understand.

 Horrors that Lysandra was forced to live with every day.

 Arobynn's unofficial mistress.

 Aedion's fist slamming against the table startled them both and snapped Aelin from her thoughts. Lysandra flinched and leaned closer to Aelin. "It doesn't matter."

  He pointed his finger at them and then stabbed it into the table. "It. Does. Not. Matter. Where that piece of shit is. Rifthold? Wendelyn? He can be an hour away or watering the rutting flowers next door, but he will never have either of you ever again." The golden core in Aedion's eyes was molten.

 The excitement was too much for Lysandra, and the dam behind her eyes broke. Deep, heavy sobs ripped from her chest, and her body wilted forward like a wind-whipped flower.

 They moved at the same time, but Aedion was faster. He pulled Lysandra from her seat and gathered her against his chest, shushing her and whispering sweet nothings into her hair.

 The bells rang downstairs.

 Aedion looked up helplessly, but Aelin raised a hand and mouthed, "It's fine."

 None of them wanted Lysandra to be alone right now.

 Aelin slipped her shoes back on and hopped down the stairs quickly. Hopefully, they wouldn't be too pissed no one was behind the counter when they walked in, she mused to herself. It only took her half-a-minute to get downstairs, but it was amazing the things people got outraged over.

 Mala forgive that the coffee gets in their hand a second later than usual.

 "Do my eyes deceive me, or was Aelin Galathynius taking a break?" Dorian Havilliard's greeted her with a bright smile and upraised hands. No trace of agitation at all.

 Chaol Westfall stood behind him and meekly tilted his chin. "Hello, Aelin."

 "Hello, Chaol." She greets him with a smile and walks into Dorian's outstretched arms. Aelin wasn't a hugger, but Dorian's hugs had a magic to them.

 "Where did you go?" Dorian asked without breaking his grasp. "I never thought I'd see the day you weren't slaving away behind the counter grinding beans."

 "We weren't super busy today, and I wasn't feeling the best," Aelin admitted.

 Dorian pulled away slightly to look down at her in concern. His dark, thick-framed blue light glasses slipping down his nose.

 "It's just the baby," she assures him. "Not the flu or anything. You don't have the right parts to catch what I've got."

 Chaol snickered, but Dorian's concern only worsened. "In all seriousness, you aren't working yourself too hard?"

 Aelin rolled her eyes. If one more person asked her that-

 "I'm fine, Dor. It was just some morning sickness and a stressful customer that came through. No big deal."

 His shoulders relax, and he releases her from his arms. "I believe you. Just-" he fumbles for the words to say, "If you have troublesome people coming in here and bothering you, let me know? Chaol can come over and hang out for the day. He has a friend, Nesryn. If it gets bad, I am more than willing to hire her-"

 Aelin smiled at him and waved at him. "No need for bodyguards. People are rude. It happens. Now, what can I get for the both of you?"

 Dorian was the son of the esteemed son of Dorian Sr. The owner of Adarlan Vaults, the most extensive banking chain across Erilea. It was a total accident that they stumbled into each other when Aelin went in looking for a loan to start The Stag with.

 At first, he was a bit of a flirt with her. When Aelin made it clear that she wasn't interested in his advances, Dorian backed off right away and fell into the role of the supportive friend. He and Chaol had been the first patrons of the shop when the doors opened.

 Chaol was technically his hired protection, but he and Dorain were life long friends bound by something more powerful than money. She never saw the two of them apart. While he appeared to be a quiet sort, he had a sharp mind and fierce loyalty that Aelin admired.

 "Two iced girl scout americano's," Dorian pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty. "Large, please."

 Aelin accepted the cash and started filling cups as the two took their standard seats. She just got the espresso machine heated when a set of hands pushed her's aside and began flipping the switches for her.

 "Aedion," she groaned as his hip bumped her to the side, and he took over her tasks. "Seriously?"

 "You are supposed to be taking the day off," he looks at her pointedly. "Go sit with your friends. I've got this."

 "Do you have this?" Aelin set a hand on her hip. "You haven't used these machines before."

 Aedion scoffed, "It cannot be that complicated. Now go. Before Lysandra comes back down and wipes the floor with both of our asses." He pulls out two large mugs and grabs out a bottle of coconut flavoring. "Baby A is shielding you for now, but that woman has the memory of a rutting elephant. Don't think you can hide behind my niece or nephew forever." He's more talking to himself by the end as he starts over pouring syrups into cups. Did he even know what he was making? Aelin winced.

 She might have to return the twenty to Dorian.

 Aelin walks away reluctantly, "Mind if I sit here for a minute, boys?"

 Chaol stands up and pulls a chair out for her, "Not at all."

 He holds out a hand to help her sit, but she waves it away. She wasn't that pregnant yet.  

 Dorian has a hardbound book sitting in front of him, the face of his expensive watch catching the light as he turns the page. "I haven't seen you by the bank this week," he says without looking up from the page.

 "We've been enjoying the peace," Chaol sits back in his own seat and flashes her a grin. "That's a joke, of course. It's been horribly boring."

 "It's been a busy week. I haven't had a chance to drop my deposit off yet." Aelin typically made an excuse to visit the bank at least once a week. Dorian would kindly excuse whatever teller was working to take a break and promptly close the register so they could sit in the break room and talk over cookies and drip coffee.

 She was planning on going yesterday, but her feathers were too ruffled after the incident.

 "I suppose I can live without that excuse since I've taken it upon myself to visit you at work." He pulls a plastic bag filled with assorted chocolates and places it on the table between them. "If you need to drop off a deposit, I can take it back with me?"

 Aelin's hand darts to the bag of sweets and pulls out a dark, salty square. "Have I mentioned you are the most attractive man I've ever met?"

 They hear a loud scoff from the kitchen.

 "You've mentioned it a few times." He glances up from his book long enough to wink at her. "What about that deposit?"

 "I don't think I will have a big enough deposit to warrant the trip this week," the excuse isn't well-formed, and she hears it when the lie falls from her lips.

 "You said you had a busy week?" Dorian frowns.

 I did, but I'm putting aside extra money to fund my cousin's gang because my former foster father has a hit out on me.

 "The tips have been bad" not a total lie. "Maybe it will pick up again over the weekend," Aelin shrugs nonchalantly.  

 Aedion walks over with two cups of coffee and a mug of tea. He lets Dorian's drink slosh over the side as he sets it down. Dorian lifts his book away from the mess and glares.

 She wasn't sure what went down between Dorian and Aedion that made them hate each other. Chaol and Aedion had no qualms. They were even drinking buddies on the weekend, but Aedion had a bone to pick with Dorian long before she'd arrived back in Orynth.

 Aelin half-heartedly scolded Aedion as she accepted her drink. Taking a deep drink from the mug, she was surprised to find that it was made exactly as she liked.

 Chaol sipped his coffee, and Aelin watched as he barely held back a grimace. Dorian reached for his own cup, but Chaol discretely pulled it away before he could drink. Aelin caught the motion, but thankfully Aedion was already back in the kitchen and hadn't noticed.

 "I will remake those for you before you leave," Aelin assured them.

 "It's alright. As much as I love coffee, I really came by to spill tea," Dorian took his glasses off and leaned back in his chair.

 "Gossip," Chaol translated. "He means gossip."

 Dorian rolls his eyes, "That's what tea means, Chaol." Leaning forward with his elbows on the table, "A company called Wendlyn Ops. bought out The Pits."

 "What?" Aelin shouts a little too loudly. Dorian shushes her, and Aedion peers out from the kitchen with worried eyes. She waves him away and whispers in a quieter tone. "What do you mean The Pits have been bought out? What for?"

 "I didn't realize you would care this much about the seediest bar in town," Dorian laughed. "It's not like you can drink."

 "You aren't drinking, right?" Chaol scowls.

 Aelin reins back her emotions. She was definitely losing her tack being off the job for several months, but the secret basement underneath The Pits was where the fights were usually held. Iona Jayne would never sell the property when it brought in so much money.

 He either owed someone a rutting ton of money, he was being blackmailed, or the most likely option.

 Iona Jayne was dead.

 Aelin flipped Chaol off, "Of course I'm not drinking. No promises on that in about five months... Just, who would want The Pits? Are they repurposing it?" She can already feel a headache forming behind her eyes.

 "That's the interesting part," Chaol murmured. "The title for The Pits was transferred to a new owner just a few days before it was sold for triple its market value."

 Dorian's grin became mischievous, "Shady deals are going on, and I'm determined to find out what."

 Shit. Shit. Shit.

 Aelin forced a matching smile on her, "Well, this sounds like the making of an adventure."

 Aedion was deeply involved with all the goings-on at The Pits. If Dorian managed to learn too much and expose them, he would go down hard. She wasn't directly implicated in anything beyond a little racketeering, but one prolonged look at her record would raise some eyebrows. Which could tie her back to Rifthold and numerous murders. A lot of murder. Thievery. Hired assassinations.

 They would be screwed, essentially.

 Damn it all to hellas, she needed to talk to Aedion. Aelin understood why Dorian was interested in this. His father was involved with so many corrupt dealings they followed him like a shadow. She knew he was socially isolated beyond herself and Chaol. No one dared to associate with the son of Dorian Sr.

 Unveiling a corrupt business dealing and aiding the community could help separate his image from his father's. Rectify some of the wrongs his family has committed. Give him a chance at making a future for himself out from Dorian Sr.'s thumb.

 Aelin just wished he knew the depth of the task he was taking. How deep, dark, and dangerous this viper's den was. Sweet, sheltered Dorian Jr. would be eaten alive. A blue-eyed pup, trapped in the jaws of an adder.

 Little did he know that Aelin was a wolf herself, and she would not stand for that breaking.

 Aelin directed the conversation to safer grounds following the bomb he dropped. They discussed the book he was reading, the litter of pups his dog was expecting, his disgusting little brother. Chaol seemed to sour at the mention of Holland.

 Soon they were provided with fresh drinks, and Aelin ushered them out under the pretense of needing a nap. Definitely not a lie. Her stomach was rolling again, and that blooming headache was now a whole damn rosebush in her brain.

 Rubbing the knot between her eyes, she made the difficult decision of closing for the day. Business was slow. Lysandra hadn't come back downstairs. Aelin wasn't feeling well, and there was no chance she was letting Aedion use her precious machines again.

 Aelin looked outside the window. It was grey and dreary outside. Perfect conditions for the three of them to order pizza, rent a movie and just put this day behind them.

 "Aedion, I'm closing up." She didn't hear a reply. Aelin shrugged it off. He'd probably gone back up to sit with Lysandra.

 She opened a can of coffee grounds and inhaled wistfully. What she wouldn't give for a cup of straight caffeine. With one last longing sniff, Aelin refilled canisters for tomorrow and got to cleaning up the machines.

 All that was left was to close up the registers.

 She'd just unlocked the drawer when the ring of the shop bells went off.

 "Sorry, we're closed," Aelin said without looking away from the task at hand. She would have to remember to lock the doors first next time.

 Heavy boots thudded against her wooden floors as whoever it was approached the counter. Her irritation peeked. What was with the influx of entitled assholes lately?

 "We are close-" Aelin's stopped and her eyes narrowed at the gun barrel aimed at the center of her forehead.

I’m figuring out how the tagging list thing works- ☺️

If you would like me to add or take your name off the list for future updates let me know~

@thisismylibrary

@highladywhitethrone

@bee55

@royalsqueeze

@rowaelin-cressworth

@sjmships

[gamerwoo]

Hongseok: Bittersweet (part 6 – what about the homies??)

Summary: You were looking for a sugar daddy to make more money. Hongseok was looking for a sugar baby to get his friends off his back. But once you find out what he’s using you for, you don’t want anything to do with him. Unfortunately, you love his money more than you hate him.

Tags: @skylions-den @peachy-hoon (if you want to be added to the tag list please send an ask!!!)

Previous | Next | Bittersweet Masterlist

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You’d been going out with Hongseok for three weeks now. He took you to that fancy restaurant the first week -- you still had no idea your friends had sat in the parking lot and were able to watch your entire date from the front window -- and then shopping the second week to get you some fancier clothes when you’d told him how much trouble you’d had picking something out. Despite how much of a cocky asshole he seemed to be, you found the sentiment to be kind of sweet.

“I won’t always take you to expensive places,” he began as the two of you perused the store you’d never gone in because you could hardly even afford to breathe in there, “but when I do, you won’t have to panic as much. And don’t worry, I’ll pay for it all on top of your allowance this week.”

But today, the two of you had gone for a walk. There was a nice park where a bunch of cherry blossoms had bloomed, so you and Hongseok went for an evening stroll to admire them. But you ended up being late to to play with your friends even though they had set a time to get on the day before. Thankfully, you were able to easily avoid why you were out -- except for Wonwoo, but you knew he wasn’t a blabbermouth so your secret was safe with him.

That proved true while you were playing. Not once did Wonwoo bring up the fact you had a sugar daddy, and that was the real reason you were out. The rest of your friends kept pestering you on who you were with and where you were, but you easily lied and said you were hanging out with Soonyoung. It wasn’t like any of them had a way to prove you were lying anyway.

“What were you doing that got you so distracted, hm?” Kihyun pressed, sensing something was up. “Anything in particular?”

“Are you trying to imply she’s sleeping with Soonyoung or something?” Wonwoo chuckled.

“I wouldn’t break bro code,” you huffed. “That’s fucked up.”

“You didn’t actually date,” Sehun scoffed, “it doesn’t count. You could fuck him if you wanted to.”

“Why are we talking about _____ sleeping with people?” Yuto asked, clearly wanting the subject to change.

“Just tell us what happened so we can move on,” Chani sighed.

You shrugged, “I dunno, we were just hanging out at his dorm. We got to binging some movies and I lost track of time. Now can we stop talking about it? I’m about to start streaming.”

But what actually happened was that Hongseok wouldn’t shut up, and the cherry blossoms and fairy lights were too pretty for you to focus on keeping track of time. The scenery was so beautiful, in fact, that Hongseok had stopped in the middle of the pink petals surrounded by fairy lights and took out his phone as he looked at you with a slight smile, “Do you mind if we take a photo here? I won’t post it anywhere, I just think this is quite pretty.”

“Um, sure,” you shrugged.

So he got close to you, putting his head next to yours as the two of you smiled up at the camera. You thought it was a little odd he wanted a picture with you, but you could also tell that Hongseok wasn’t the type to post his life all over social media. He didn’t seem to talk about his personal life much, except for how he excelled at all of his classes, excelled at sports, excelled at everything compared to his friends -- basically just how ‘awesome’ he was, which made you want to roll your eyes and throw up on him.

However, Hongseok had motives for taking the picture. He knew he’d need proof at some point that you were real, and he figured three dates were good enough for his lie.

[purpleyellow]

Clueless

Seventeen 14th member

Hayun’s masterlist

“The introduction of Hayun’s love interest and her beef with his friend”

a/n: Feel free to let me know your thoughts as well as send me some requests💙. Ask box is also open to random chats.

“Noona!” Yugyeom screamed engulfing Hayun in a tight hug and briefly raising her off the ground “I’m so glad you came”

“Of course I’m here, happy birthday by the way” Hayun snorted, reciprocating the hug and making room for Mingyu, Minghao, and DK to congratulate him as well. Looking around the private area of the club, the girl waved back at some of the JYPE idols without failing to notice one of the Twice girl’s walking up to her.

“Yugyeom-ah, did you really have to invite her?” Jade rolled her eyes, draping an arm on the boy’s shoulders and sizing her up. The other girl tilted her head to the side and pressed her lips in annoyance.

Hayun and Jade’s relationship was a little tough. 

Ever since their groups debuted, the two rappers got constantly compared to each other. And while Hayun knew she shouldn’t get affected by it, she couldn’t help but get insecure when a lot of people seemed to use Jaidee as an example of why they thought she had to leave Seventeen to join a girl group. It didn’t help either that they never addressed the situation or tried to interact when their groups were getting to know each other. 

So even though it seemed reasonable to just move past other people's opinions and the rivalry they pressured on them, the topic stung Hayun a little, and the girl found herself avoiding staying close to the other idol and interacting peacefully, even after everybody appeared to have moved on from it.

“Jaidee, just go back to your place” The seventeen member rolled her eyes while Yugyeom stared at them amused, far too entertained to deal with their bickering.

“My place?” Jade widened her eyes and chuckled aimlessly “It’s my friend’s party. Look around a little and you’ll see you’re the one  who doesn’t belong here”

“Seriously, you talk like a preschooler” Hayun pursed her lips to prevent her from ironically laughing as Jade opened her mouth to say something else, getting interrupted by two people approaching and standing in the middle of them.

“Noona, great to see you here. Let’s go sit with your members” Bambam chatted happily while pulling Hayun to where the rest of the 97 line was. Jackson on her other side gestured for Yugyeom to take Jade back to the other side of the table.

“Jackson, ” Jade called out and waved for him to follow her, making the girl roll her eyes again. The boy looked between them before sighing.

“Wait a minute, I’ll come back,” He told Hayun before going to where the Twice member was.

“She really doesn’t let him live” The girl snorted while approaching the table, mindlessly messing up Jaehyun’s hair and getting an annoyed greeting as he tried to fix it again.

“She usually does, it’s just your presence” Bambam deadpanned pulling a chair for her to sit next to Minghao and smirking before saying with a girly voice “Don’t worry he’s coming back”

“He can stay there if it’ll keep her away from me” Hayun mumbled, getting slapped in the arm by Minghao. “Ouch, what was that for?”

“Let the girl be,” Mingyu said from his seat, making her roll her eyes at him before winking at Jungkook who was looking back and forth with wide eyes “You should be the mature one in a situation like this”

“How is this my fault? All I did was arrive and-”

“Next time arrive quicker” DK joked, making her sigh and rest her weight on the chair. 

“So, what’s good tonight?” Hayun asked and looked down at the dance floor and then back at the group, who had returned to their usual conversation. The girl was just starting to focus on one of Eunwoo’s stories when suddenly a chair got pulled to her side and someone sat there with his arms on the back of her seat.

“What did I miss?” Jackson asked no one in specific and looked at her, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear and fiddling with her piercing “Is this a new earring?”

“I think I’ve had this for a while now but thank you for asking” Hayun chuckled, patting his thigh before looking back at whoever was speaking.

“Ah, interesting” The boy mumbled and looked around again, not so discreetly pulling his chair a little closer to hers. Hayun leaned her head on his shoulder without much thought making a smile creep onto his face. “Don’t you think we’re a little out of place here? I mean, they’re all the same age and-”

“Are you calling me old?” She raised her head with an amused yet questioning smile and Jackson rolled his eyes while shaking his head.

“No. I’m trying to see if you want to go someplace else.” He told her with a smirk and gave her a wink.

“Go where bro? I’m not going to the lion’s den just because you’re too cool for the young kids” She scoffed leaving him with wide eyes

“Wow, don’t put it like that, you know Jade is my friend” He started to say with a goofy grin but got interrupted again.

“I’m your friend too” Hayun laughed, missing how his smile dropped a little “Shouldn’t you be at least a little concerned by me getting eaten alive”

“As long as I got you both under control nothing is happening” He patted her on the back and got up “I’m going to the bar, do you want the usual?”

“Sure, thanks” The girl nodded and looked back at the table. She hadn’t realized but all eyes were on her as they had watched the end of the exchange happen “What?”

“Dude, that was your cue” Bambam smirked, taking a sip from his cup.

“My cue for what?” She frowned when Mingyu held his head in exasperation and Dokyeom giggled at her lost expression.

“Your cue to go with him” Minghao pointed out amused and when Hayun looked at him for more clues he raised his eyebrows “Are you serious?”

“Jackson has been flirting with you for like, months” Mingyu exclaimed with a high pitch tone and restraining himself from standing up and extending his arms to where the boy was “He just told you he wanted to move spots and gave you the perfect situation to tag along. Why are you still here?”  

While the mini-speech had made sense to her, Hayun couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. Sure Jackson was attractive and she enjoyed his presence a lot, but the view she had of him didn’t surpass the one of a friend.

“You’re all overreacting, we’re just close like that” She waved them off making him groan and some of the boys laughed.

“He doesn’t act like that with anyone but you actually” Bambam crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat “Just watch him for a while and you’ll get what we mean”

“Actually, just go there yourself” Minghao rolled his eyes and grabbed the seat of her chair, tilting it until Hayun had no choice but to get up before she fell on the ground. 

“Wow, aggressive much” She fixed the skirt of her dress and walked towards the bar. The girl could see where they were coming from, but part of her didn’t actually believe Jackson could have some sort of feelings for her. Not those kinds of feelings at least.

Confronting it while she didn’t have expectations made sense to Hayun as she walked down the stairs, finding him standing with his back facing where she was coming from, which allowed her to sneak to his side and poke his ribs.

“Hey, thought you were going to wait upstairs” Jackson smiled circling an arm around her waist as Hayun leaned her forearms on the counter.

“Well from what I’ve heard you wanted me to come with you from the start” She smirked not meeting his eyes and hoping he would catch her hint.

“I did actually, thank you for noticing” Jackson smiled, playing with the ends of her hair and watching the bartender mixing up the drinks.

“Cut the crap Jackson” Hayun rolled her eyes turning to him “Have you been flirting with me?”

“Yes. Do you want to go on a date?” It was his turn to smile and Hayun found herself speechless.

“What?” She stared at him with wide eyes and he shrugged

“I figured I should make up for the time it took you to even realize I was flirting,” He said as if it were nothing, and Hayun’s mouth dropped.

“That was smooth” She laughed getting out of her trance and he stared at her with expecting eyes.

“So, do you want to?” He held her face with one hand and brushed it with his thumb, the action felt a little too nice to the girl and she blinked a few times trying to find her words.

“I need to be honest with you here. I don’t really see you like this” She said and he took a step back, opening his arms and looking at her.

“Do you think I’m attractive?” He asked as if it were nothing and the girl tilted her head to the side.

“Uh, sure but-”

“And I’m guessing you’re not annoyed by my presence,” He asked again and she shook her head making him get closer to her again, giving her a side hug and a kiss behind the ear “Then if you agree on the date, that’s enough for me to make you change your mind about how you see me”

Grateful for the bartender finishing up in that second, Hayun stared at the boy’s side profile as he took the drinks from the man, suppressing a smile when he turned to give her hers. 

“So, what do you say about that date?” His tone wasn’t teasing and she could tell he was genuinely waiting for her to either decline or accept it.

“Yeah, let’s do it” She let out a relieved laugh when his face broke into an adorable smile. 

Letting Jackson lead her back to their table, Hayun paid more attention to his hand resting on her back and how even sitting he was usually trying to keep some sort of contact between them. Half of her unusually giddy from it, and the other half wondering what the hell had just happened.

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

I Pity the Grave That Tries to Keep Me From You

Bull Randleman x Reader One-shot

Summary: it’s just fluffy angst about Bull coming back from Market Garden bc I’m a soft squishy sad little tall person who is dealing with some major feels

Warnings: shitty writing (mostly cuz I don’t feel like editing WHOOPSIE), angst, fluff, rushed ending, bleh, idk man it is what it is....

Ya’ll know I listened to Hozier’s Work Song for part of this, I didn’t even try to be subtle about it.

~

~

~

You don’t react when Hoobler tells you about Bull.  

Martin can’t look at you, but you hug him just the same.

I’m sorry he’d blurted after he returned your embrace, voice breaking painfully. I’m so fucking sorry.

But you’d just shook your head from side to side and given him the closest thing to a reassuring smile you could muster.

Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m glad you’re here.

You weren’t sure how many times you’d said those three sentences since D-Day, but it was the only thing you could think of to say to your broken friends telling you through tearful apologies the names of the soldiers you all had loved and lost. As if it was their fault... as if they’d failed in keeping them safe for you.

Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m glad you’re here.

Martin had let out one quiet sob against your neck before stepping back and turning and leaving. Everyone let him go. 

You understood- everyone grieved differently. Your grief had to wait a bit longer- you still had things to do.

No one made to stop you when you excused yourself, Webster having the presence of mind to give you a nod when you mumbled something about checking in with Nixon.

You and Bull had always known the risk of one or both of you dying- hell, you’d even discussed the likelihood of one of you dying in front of the other. You’d mentally prepared yourself as much as you could for that inevitability.

Missing, though? Missing wasn’t sitting well with you.

Becoming an intelligence officer hadn’t been a career path you’d stumbled across by mistake- you liked information, found comfort in details and strategy. 

You hated being blindsided, and since you’d been small you’d gone to great lengths to ensure you never entered a situation without being fully aware of any and all potential outcomes that could occur. 

Surprises aren’t always good, my darling. Remember that. 

Your mother’s words had echoed in your head the first time you’d met Bull, when he’d caught you off guard by introducing himself to you in the same manner he had introduced himself to all of the other men in Easy- with solid eye contact, a firm handshake, and a gentle drawl of “Randleman, nice to meet you.” 

The idea that you wouldn’t hear his voice again, in either friendly introduction or intimate devotion, made you feel achingly hollow.

“If you think something as silly as a grave can keep me from coming home to you, you got another thing coming, Little Lady”. 

“That sounds like you’re saying you’re going to haunt me, Den—”

“You should be so lucky….plus, I’d make it fun, so don’t even worry about it.”

You start to walk in earnest towards the officer’s area now, biting the insides of your cheeks in an effort not to cry. 

You had to keep going. 

You’d promised him you would, just as you’d made him promise in kind.

When you finally found Nixon, you instantly frowned at the bruise blossoming on his forehead.

“What happened to you?” you ask, ignoring the man’s glare and walking over to get a closer look. “Looks like you tangoed with Joe Toye’s brass knuckles and lost.”

“Got shot in the helmet.” Nix grumbles at the same time Richard perks up and squints at you while asking “Toye’s got brass knuckles?”.

You wince, both in response to Nix’s injury and your accidental snitching on Joe. “Whoops.”

Lewis’s eyes catch yours and his brow softens. 

You instantly know what he’s about to bring up, and shake your head preemptively.

“Lew,” you begin with a heavy sigh, only to be shushed like a child before he spoke over you.

“They don’t know anything for sure yet.” he insisted, and you knew that he knew you saw through his bullshit. 

He sometimes tried to be less pessimistic when he knew you were already way ahead of him in that department, but the two of you knew each other well enough by now for you to see it for what it was- him trying to make you feel better, coddling you to make you feel better.

Lying to make you feel better.

Information is truth, everything else is probably a lie.

Your mother was a bitter cynic, but you’d also never once known her to have her heart broken.

Maybe she’d been on to something.

“Yeah,” you’d offered, quickly brushing past him to look at the map on the table. “Maybe. Anyway, when exactly did Market Garden start going to shit? Do you think we were undermanned? Were our maps wrong? Did they have unexpected weaponry….?”

Distract the sad voice in your head offered as you threw yourself into work, using the churning pain in your belly to fuel your motivation to reclaim the town. 

No one gets to hurt you and get away with it. No one gets to take Bull from you and remain unpunished.

You decided then and there that you were going to make the SS bleed for what they’d done, and you knew that if Bull were there he’d tell you to rein it in.

Got murder in your eyes, darling. What’s got you so cross?

But Bull wasn’t here. And you? You had to get over it.

It’s what he would want.

~

~

You had barely slept that night, throwing yourself into rereading all of the intelligence reports until Dick finally ordered you out of the CP tent.

At first you’d fought him on it, still too afraid of being let alone with your own thoughts. But he’d been firm, literally snatching the paperwork from your trembling hands and hovering over you until you relented.

“I don’t want to see you until morning, is that understood?”

With more patience than you deserved he’d held your coat up and helped you slip into it, making a point to pull your knit hat down over your ears before turning you in the direction of where all the soldiers were sleeping.

Even though Bull had promised to be the one to haunt you, it was you who felt like the ghost.

But, like the obedient soldier you were, you walked to the spot where you and Bull had set up camp with Perconte and Luz. Neither man happened to be there at that moment, which was a small blessing because when you saw Bull’s unattended duffel bag in the same spot he’d left it that morning you’d been unable to stop the sob that slipped past your lips.

Like a child, you’d curled around his rucksack and held it close, your fingers tracing over the airborne patches that denoted it as his. 

Had it truly been this morning that you’d woken up in his embrace, groaning in sleepy protest when he refused to let you out of his arms?

“Jus’ a bit longer,” he’d mumbled, bringing a leg up and over your hip to pin you beside him. “Let the boys start fightin’ without us, we’ll catch up later…”

You wish that had been possible. You wished it could have been that simple.

 ~

~

Tears had leaked out of your eyes as you squeezed them shut and the next time you opened them it was morning. At some point in the night either George or Frank had tossed a wool blanket over you.

For a few glorious moments, you had thought Bull’s furnace-like chest had been what was keeping you warm. The blanket was a kindness, but an unintentionally cruel one.

After rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you’d gotten yourself ready and packed up to head out.

Bull’s duffle bag seemed to be filled with bricks as you hefted it over your shoulder with your own, and with each stride you took it only became heavier. You knew the protocol- take the deceased’s belongings to CP for redistribution and personal effects collection. 

It felt like defeat, as if you were giving up on him.

Defeat and reality were seeming to become one and the same, these days.

Your throat was so tight by the time you made it to CP you were barely able to explain what you were doing to Lewis, your arm trembling as you held out the pack to him.

The moment Nix had taken it from your hands, tears began to spill from your eyes and for once you did nothing to stop them.

Nixon had been about to say something to you when Perconte rushed in breathlessly with a call of your name, almost forgetting to salute Lewis when he saw him.

“Oh! Sir. Uh, Y/N- there’s, um,  something you should see—”

You glared at him, trying and failing to hide the fact that you’d been crying from your friend.

“I’m in the middle of something, Perco. Can it wait?”

In the distance you could hear the sound of truck engines, and a new anxiety began to blossom in your chest at the idea of leaving Bull behind.

“But, Y/N…” he protested, clearly tongue-tied and overexcited.

“Oh my God, what?!”

“It’s Bull!”

Your blood froze in your veins, sucking in a breath that felt too big for your body.

You could feel your heartbeat behind your eyes as your lungs screamed for more air, but your body was refusing to blink or breathe or move…..

“That’s….no. W-what’re you—?”

The sight of a truck driving toward a group of Easy and Dog soldiers came to a halt, and you swore you say a familiar glimmer of sandy curls standing at least a foot above the group.

 No. There’s no fucking way….

With wide eyes you turn back to Lewis, seeing an equally confused look on his face. 

You barely wait for his nod of dismissal before looking to Frank again.

“C’mon, I’ll—”

You don’t wait for him to finish, sprinting away from them with a single-minded focus on reaching the horribly familiar silhouette of the man you[d begun to mourn.

Bull Bull Bull BULL DENVER BULL!?!?

With no care for decorum or professionalism, you shove people aside and rush through the throng until you violently skid to a halt before Johnny and Hoob.

And Dever fucking Randleman.

A silent sob twists your face, vision doubling as more tears well in your eyes.

It was him. It was him.

When your eyes find his, you force yourself to take a breath.

He’s dirty and scraped and a little bloody but he’s alive and he’s here and—

You throw yourself at him, arms latching around his neck and legs locking around his hips as he catches you easily in his arms.

“Oh my God,” you whisper shakily, shaking like a leaf and clutching at him as if he were the last lifeboat in a storming sea. “Oh my GOD, Den—!”

Bull’s got one arm across your backside and the other is pressing your torso to his as if he means to fuse the two of you together, his heartbeat loud and strong and powerful against your chest as he twists his cold face into your neck and just breathes you in.

You know that Martin is trying to talk to you, that someone else is telling you to take it easy but you can barely hear them through the roaring sound of life returning to your body.

When he sighs your name you swear that you’ve never heard a sound so sweet.

As you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple, you open your eyes and blink your tears away.

Of course, once you clear your eyes, you see the mess of blood staining his shoulder.

“Jesus Christ!” you gasp, untangling yourself from him in an instant and trying to get out of his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt, you idiot?!”

Bull allows you to unwrap your legs from his waist but refuses to let you go, the arm that had been under your bottom coming up to hold the back of your head lovingly.

A pained yet playful grin breaks across his lips as he eyes you. “Oh, am I?”

You smile stupidly, sniffling at his ridiculous attempt at nonchalance. 

Using his hold on the back of your neck he ducks down and presses a long, meaningful kiss to your lips. You sigh into it, and just as you cup his face in your hands someone clears their throat and you’re reminded that the two of you have an audience.

When you break apart he makes sure to wrap his good arm around your shoulders, and you wince when you catch the looks of surprise being sent your way by the replacements.

Whoops, that was certainly unprofessional….

Bill Guarnere barks a laugh as you shift uncomfortably, slinging his own bag back over his shoulder.

“Shit, if that’s the hello you give to someone who’s been MIA- I’m definitely getting lost more often!”

Martin rolls his eyes, and enough people laugh that some of the tension is broken. 

You turn back to Bull and try to get him to let him show you his shoulder. But Bull has never been an easy man to physically move, especially when moving is something he doesn’t want to do.

This time is no exception.

“Let me see it,” you huff, only to have him smirk and shake his head. “Denver, I could’ve made it worse, I need to make sure—”

“Nah,” he says with a shrug he immediately regrets doing. “How about you kiss it better after Roe gets a look at it, hmm?”

As you open your mouth to reply there is a cry from above that it’s time to get moving, the reminder that there are more pressing matters to attend to shaking you from your anxious worrying.

Because it’s Bull, he hollers for his men to get on the truck as if he had been with them the whole time. 

“I need to go get your stuff, our stuff from CP….”

Bull shakes his head before you’ve finished talking.

“Perco’s got it,” he says with a nod in the man’s direction. “Don’tcha buddy.”

Without waiting for a reply, Bull pulls you along with him towards the trucks, refusing to let you leave his side despite your insistence that Roe needed to take care of him.

Getting into the truck, you help unbutton his shirt so Doc can start cleaning the ragged wound on his shoulder.

Bull brings your knuckles to his lips as the truck begins to move, eyes never leaving your face as he answers Gene’s rapid-fire questions about what had happened in the time Bull had been separated from the group.

“...you lost some blood, how’d you manage not to pass out?”

With a wink in your direction Bull chuckles.

“Considered it, Doc. But then I remembered my missus here was waitn’ and thought better of it.”

You shake your head admonishingly at his explanation.

“You’re really something else, you know that Bull?”

In a move that surprised both you and the Doc, Bull used his grip on your hand to pull you so you were straddling his lap.

“Course I do, Little Lady. I’m yours.”

Well, goddamn.

“Damn right, now shut up and stop flirting.”

The smile he gave you only widened at the command.

“We’ll see, darlin’. We’ll see.”

~ ~ ~ (is it trash? Yes. But is it garbage? Also yes. Love you all and thanks for reading the feels)

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