#and it gets better because my friend likes to think he's nightmare. SO HE PRETENDS THAT HE HATE CATS LOLL

[amoratheskeleton]

Guys....

i have 14 cats

14 cats on Minecraft

MY GAME IS LAGGING SO HARD PEMSBDKAANAKAKKJ broo i just think that my friend hates me rn EHEHHHEHHEHEHEHHEHE😈😈

(the tags have silly things:3)

[clrasecretdiary]

Oh no, i love him | Spencer reid x Bestfriend! Fem! Reader

pure fluff

u can find part.2 here!!

content: Spencer is flirty (:o shocking, i knowww), Spencer calls reader stuff like "honey" (down bad for this.), Mutual pining (no confession in this one), it's obvious to everyone, Penelope interrupts them, but it's fine because she's a princess.

a/n: heavily based on my need to bury my head in Spencer's chest at any minor inconvenience.

Ever since you joined the team, you always seemed to gravitate towards Spencer. He made you feel so comfortable, so seen. Naturally you two developed a friendship, now best friends, joined at the hip, never to be seen apart from the other. 

To anyone seeing from the outside it was clear the other feelings between you two, the tension, the stolen glances. At this point, you two acted as a married couple, but still pretended to only see each other as friends. 

-

You could not sleep, having nightmares the whole night flashes of Spencer lying down, bleeding going through your mind, images so clear you almost thought it was reality. The current case the team is working on is keeping you awake. This unsub, for a still unknown reason, has been targeting Spencer and you guys cannot get to the reason why.

You get in the office early, settling your things down at your table and heading to the kitchen. You catch yourself preparing two coffees, one with an ungodly amount of sugar and the other black. Right on cue, Spencer gets in the office. 

"Good morning, darling, how did you sleep?" 

"Good morning Spence, and you already know it, horrible" You say, handing him the coffee as he places a kiss on your cheek, and you try not to blush – you hoped to master that hence the amount of times you'd have to do it when you're next to him but no he always found new ways to make you blush and stumble at your words like a teenage girl with a crush. 

"What bothers that pretty mind of yours" He says, taking a sip of his coffee and opening a small smile, noticing how you always remember how he likes it. 

"It's this fucking case, it's been 2 weeks, and we can't figure it out, the MO is all over the place, and now he's targeting you… It's just… I'm worried" you say, getting close to Spencer and putting your head to his chest as you often did when the world just got too much  "we need to find this fucking guy" your voice coming out muffled against his cardigan. 

"We will catch him, it's only a matter of time, honey. You don't need to worry, ok? I'll be fine, we will be fine." He says, grabbing your chin and making you look up, making sure you're looking at his eyes while he says that. 

"If you ever die, i'll kill you. Be aware of that Spencer Reid" You say in a fake serious tone

Spencer puts his arms around your waist, making you two be even closer now  

"Oh, i wouldn't dare to do that"  he says giggling and placing a strand of your hair behind your ear 

There's a lingering moment of silence, you two just stand there, the closest you've ever been just… looking at each other. Being this close to him, you can see all the hues of brown in those beautiful eyes of his. And almost as if there's this gravitational force, you two start to get closer 

"Hey guys, i saw you getting in is there any coffe lef-" Garcia enters the office kitchen, scaring you both to opposite sides of the space 

"Yeah there's um.. Some left there i think" You say, face burning with the embarrassment

"We're you two…" She says, pointing between you and reid 

Before she could finish her sentence, Spencer gives her a death glare 

"Alright! … I'm just going to pour up some coffee and be out!" Penelope says rushing to get out

"Derek Morgan, you will not believe what a just saw" You can hear her saying as soon as she steps out of the kitchen, and you two can't help but burst into laughter 

"Well, i better go now, a lot of files. And um bad guys and stuff" 

"Yeah, me too" Spencer says, also blushing.  

You rush out the kitchen and as you walk over to your desk, a realization hits you 

"Oh shit,

Oh shit. I'm in love with him"

You think to yourself, realizing there's no way you can deny the feelings anymore. 

[xtreme-shipper]

Just Don't Give Up

Azriel (ACOTAR) x FReader (Human)

WC: 1.5K (Oneshot)

Summary: When it all becomes too much to keep going, our favorite Shadowsinger shows up just in time.

Warnings: Mentions of (and attempt at) suicide, angsty, I think, canon divergent, not proofread, lol, hurt/comfort, English is not my first language. Let me know if I should add anything <3

N/A: Hi! This is my first ACOTAR fanfic, so constructive criticism is really appreciated :) It's been a while since I've written fanfiction, but recently, I've been obsessed with Az, so here we are.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The night sky was blinding in the best way possible. Another year had passed, and you could see from the distance how your friends were celebrating another Starfall, a drunken joy filling the air, their voices full of excitement. The preparations started early this year, and the night court went all the way in, with concerts throughout the city and free drinks for all its citizens. You could tell the party would go on until sunrise and wondered, not for the first time tonight, why weren’t you down there with them?

“Is everything alright?” Az had asked you earlier that day. You nodded, smiling brightly at him.

“Just had a long night.” He nodded, not fully convinced, but he didn’t push the subject, which you were grateful for. You didn’t need to ruin the mood because of your problems.

 Nightmares from under the mountain still plagued your sleep, making it almost impossible to get any rest, and it was starting to show. The things that you had to see while not being able to do anything haunted your every second.

You didn't expect to survive when you escaped from the human lands, but Rhys found you not long after you crossed the border. He wanted you to turn around, warning you that Prythian wasn’t safe, but the alternative—going back to town—was not an option; anything would be better than that, even certain death. So you stubbornly refused to, claiming you knew how to take care of yourself. The problem was that one of Amarantha’s minions watched the interaction and wanted you for its own entertainment, so Rhys had to pretend that he had taken a liking to you and wanted you as his pet.

Word got to Amarantha, and she wasn’t particularly happy with her plaything taking a liking to someone else, so she punished him while you watched, unable to do anything. Useless.

After that first time, Amarantha decided it was a fun idea to have his “beloved” pet watch the suffering she had caused. So, every time you did anything she deemed disrespectful (which was basically everything), a torture session would take place. You couldn’t help but think that if you had just stayed where you belonged, Rhys wouldn’t have suffered as much as he did. It was your fault, even when he insisted that it wasn’t.

Shaking your head, you try to get rid of the memories.

You turn your eyes to the stars, the same ones you prayed to every night. Always the same wish without any answer from them and wonder, like you so often do, whether you should still be here.

The inner circle had never treated you as less or excluded you from anything. They were your support when no one else would lend a helping hand, and with the years, they became your family, yet even now, you still feel like an outsider. You weren’t Illyrian like Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel. Heck, you weren’t even Fae to begin with. You ended up being in the way most of the time.

You took your jacket off, letting the cold breeze hug your bare arms, where scars of silent battles painted them. A shiver ran down your spine as you stepped closer to the edge of the building.

In the human lands, your family never cared for you, and even when you left, no one mourned your “death”. Here in Velaris, you had people looking out for you, yet you felt like you didn’t quite fit in.

Would they notice? Would they care if you just… disappeared? Fae's lives were so endless that compared to them, humans’ existence must seem… insignificant.

Another step. You had slipped from the party when it all became too much. Your feet were moving on their own accord. Another shiver, another step. They would probably mourn for a while but then move on. You could stop the nightmares and the pain, and they could move on; Rhys wouldn’t have a living reminder of every time he was abused and had to endure the shame. Or when he was beaten, and you had to patch him up with your scarce medical knowledge.

Az and Cass could stop pretending that you didn’t cause their brother more suffering. That your recklessness didn’t make things worse. That they didn’t believe you weren’t brave enough to help him.

You are standing on the border of the building now, eyes fixed on the stars above, “Please,” you whispered. “Please.” You weren’t sure what you were asking for any more. Relieve from the pain, the guilt? Maybe you didn’t need an answer from the stars to fulfill that. You could hear the music all the way up here, a serene tune drowning the rest of the noise. You start walking on the edge, arms stretched wide to give yourself a bit more balance. One step, then another.

Letting go… should you… just one step…

A cold grip settles on your ankle and another on your wrist, pulling you carefully away from the border while a sad smile paints your lips.

You were used to Az’s shadows clinging to you from time to time, so you welcomed the touch but didn’t budge. You knew their master was standing a couple of steps behind you. “You know, you aren’t very sneaky for a spymaster.”

“I was looking for you.” His voice wasn’t more than a whisper. “I was worried since you left so early.”

“I’m fine” was all you said. A lie you had perfected over time.

He led out a humorless laugh. “You don’t seem fine.” You hear his steps, careful but loud, so you know he is getting closer. “Can you please step away, Sunshine?” You tense at the use of your nickname. So familiar by now, yet so unfitting.

“It’s fine, Az. I’m just admiring the night sky.” You can feel him right behind, you know. “It’s a beautiful sight.”

“Y/N… why are you here?” You knew he meant at the rooftop, but your mind couldn’t help going to a darker place.

You take a moment to answer, weighing your options. After a couple of silent minutes, you decide to be honest. “Did you know…” You pause for a second to try to stabilize your breathing. “That I was not only responsible for treating the High Lord's wounds? I was also tasked to inflict them.” You choke at your words, your throat feeling like it's closing, and it’s getting hard to breathe, but you push the words out anyway. “I am responsible for every scar that never fully healed, for every messed-up nightmare he has at night. I can still feel the way his muscles tensed every time I inflicted pain.” The world was spinning before your eyes, and the words were coming out in short breaths. You were gasping for air, struggling to get any inside your lungs, but still, the words wouldn’t stop coming out of your mouth.

“I’m the reason he suffered. If I hadn’t been there that day, or maybe if I had put up with my life at the… maybe he wouldn’t… he saw his… and I couldn’t… anything…” you close your eyes again. “How am I supposed to live here and accept all his help and love whe—”

A strong hand grabs you by your waist, interrupting your words and yanking you away from your doom. “It wasn’t your fault.” Az’s whisper came breathless, and his arms, though firmly hugging you, were shaking.

Tears were running down your face, staining his shirt. A protective wing wrapped around you, offering shelter. Giving you a protection you didn’t deserve. “I need the guilt to stop, Az. I’m a broken reminder of his pain, and selfishly, I can’t take it anymore.” You felt so tiny, so… shattered, fragments of yourself falling to the floor with every tear shed. He was silent for a moment, trying to hold you together while you crumbled.

Then his words reach your ears. “He once told me you remind him of his sister, you know?” One of his hands starts caressing your hair while the other firmly supports you against his body. “That your bad jokes to lighten the dreary mood and your constant presence were some of the things that kept him from giving up. That thanks to you, he was able to survive long enough to find his mate.” A loud sob shakes your entire body, hands fisting his shirt as you grab onto him for dear life. “Do you know why I call you ‘Sunshine’?” Az pauses, so you shake your head in response. “Rhys had been suffering long before you got there, and when he told us how you gave him hope, even when you yourself were silently breaking apart, how you would sing to him and brighten the mood with your warm voice, I knew. I knew you were like the sun he had been deprived of for so long. You saved my brother in the way that mattered the most. You were his light, and ever since you started living with us, you became my light, too.”

You were speechless at his words; raising your head from his chest, you looked into those beautiful hazel eyes and found nothing but tenderness. “You are my light, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to say it, Sunshine.” He places a kiss on your forehead. “I won’t say it will be easy, but I promise to be here with you. We will get through this. I promise, ok?” You nod as his grip tightens. “Just don’t give up, Sunshine.”

[bakugoushotwife]

blessing and curse

summary: yuuji is a wonderful boyfriend...you just wish he was able to fuck you... warnings: post shibuya, aged up duh, yuuji struggles with ptsd, night terrors, as well as anxiety, you both see therapists, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, fem!reader, pet names, (pretty girl, baby, cutie, etc), rough sex. wc: 3k a/n: this is my first yuuji piece nom nom nom i'm actually obsessed and soaking wet tbh i'm thinking thoughts for yuuji.........anyway to my lovely requester i hope you enjoy this <;3 jjk masterlist here

yuuji feels things very intensely. it’s a blessing and a curse, though the latter is more often experienced than the former. guilt, loss, regret–all things that nearly swallowed him whole while he fought for his friends and the people of japan–for the whole world. it’s so hard to be him, to live with what he carries on his shoulders–on his soul. he’s unloveable. he’s the one who caused all of the pain—things would have been easier if he died. there’s a number of people whose lives ended because of and for him. he was only just adjacent to a murderer. months after the fighting ceased and the war was won, he would wake up numerous times through the night with night terrors. he couldn’t even call them nightmares because they weren’t fabrications of his imagination. they were all too real memories that kept making their rounds–reminding him that he would be forever burdened with a layer of hell no one else could claim to know about. 

he met you in the waiting room of his therapist’s office. he remembers seeing you and wondering what you could be talking to his specialist about. it meant you also had to be a sorcerer—clearly he couldn’t see a normal one about his specific traumas and baggage, and apparently neither could you. he remembers not even knowing you and his heart still hurting for the pretty young girl that must be hurting like him. he remembers hoping that you hadn’t been through anything like what he had—the anxious voice in the back of his mind wondering if somehow he caused your pain via sukuna’s rampages or the destruction and death that followed him. he remembers you meeting his eyes on a seemingly unremarkable thursday afternoon, catching him in the middle of one of his staring way too long episodes. you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at him in amusement. 

the rest was easy. you were easy to talk to, to admire, to hold, to love. you made him feel intense things in a good way–in a way he had nearly given up on. his world had slowly become a mixed palette of blacks and whites and muted grays–but your smile brought color back. your touch made vivid purples and yellows; your laughter the brightest of pinks and the most warm oranges. you became the blessing where he was the curse, the savior of a damned man bound to paint on smiles and pretend that sacrificing his soul and everyone he’s ever loved was worth it. now he felt unimaginable comfort and love by getting to know you. his smiles weren’t so fake anymore—and the only things that woke him in the night was losing you. truly the only fear that yuuji itadori has left: cursing his blessing. 

you thought he was the best boyfriend around and an even better man. you’ve slowly but surely unraveled the reason he was visiting the therapist through his eventual opening up to you and telling you just a fraction of what he’s experienced in his life and you can understand his intimacy issues. see…yuuji is easy to love. he’s wonderful, attentive, sweet, careful, strong and chivalrous. but he won’t fuck you. you’re too nervous to push him any further—all too aware of his fears of letting anyone in, of loving and showing that in ways that make you vulnerable. he’s all too conscious of what it would mean—of the danger he would be putting you in.

there’s been many times here lately that you’ve thought that line will finally be crossed—heavy petting and make-outs that get you squirming in his lap and soaking through your panties. it always goes this way, no matter how innocent the two of you try to keep your dates. move night, game night, even cooking together ends up with yuuji’s tongue down your throat and his hands under your shirt. tonight is no different, some youtube video plays in the background—a forgotten video game walkthrough that yuuji had been paying careful attention to until you leaned in to rip it away with those teasing kisses to his jaw. you know exactly what buttons to press after four months of nothing past second base driving you to a point of restlessness. 

you just wanted him to see your perseverance. you would do this for as long as it takes, anything to prove that you’re here to stay. you want to make him comfortable enough to tear those walls down—the ones that make his eyes flutter shut and his hands fist at his pants in order to keep them to himself. his eyes close to will himself to concentrate on something–anything—other than the feeling of your warm lips tracing his pulse, smooth fingers sliding under his shirt to outline the dips and muscles of his torso. it’s not that he doesn’t want to this, he craves you like nothing ever before. your touch is the medicine bringing him back to life, but he can’t allow himself to ruin you—taint you. but as you move into his lap and change your kisses to more intense nips and sucks at his skin, his body betrays his mind. he can feel the blood rush to his cock as your thighs trap him beneath you, and he moans out at the same time you do. the pressure of your clothed cunt sitting against his needy dick has his hands moving before he can tell himself to stop. he grabs your waist, accidentally and automatically rutting up against the friction you offer with a hiss. 

“fuck, cutie.” he groans, your lips covering his parted and pouty ones to keep him from protesting further. his fingers only dig into your side as the two sides of his mind argue with each other. he wants you badly, your body slotted against his perfectly and the way you kiss him like you’re trying to touch his soul drives him crazy. anyone with a girlfriend as hot as you would be a fucking idiot to keep denying himself of her. his hands knead the warm flesh of your body as an instinct, his body knowingly responding to your advances. his tongue slides over yours in a frenzy, his head becoming fuzzy as saliva trails down his chin—something in him telling him to stop when his hands slide upwards to palm your chest. you cry out at the feeling—so starved for his affection that you know you’re soaking wet already. just his rough hands scraping over your sensitive nipples sends you into rutting rhythmic circles of your hips over the tent in his pants, breaking your sloppy kiss in order to remove your shirt fully in a silent show of what you wanted to happen next. 

“aw baby—you know i can’t,” he whines, his lips swollen and even pinker than usual. he drops his hold to your hips, making comforting circles over the bone beneath his grasp. your face drops to instant heartbreak and he can feel his own heart try to rip itself apart for making you so sad. he never thought about how this must affect you, a woman with needs and desires for her boyfriend. he knows this can’t last much longer or he’ll lose you anyway. the room is just a mixture of your heavy breathing and the monotone droning of the tv for a few moments, and then you whine in retaliation, picking up his hand and moving it back to your breast. you search his eyes, seeing the fear flickering in those brown embers of his. you just need to show him there’s nothing to be scared of, that you need him worse than you need the oxygen in this room and would do anything for him today and forever. 

“yuuji,” you gasp out in such a voice that he knows he won’t be able to hold back this time. four months of seeing your body in your cute date outfits and in his shirt after you’ve spent the night; the feeling of your curves under his fingers as he guides you to the safe side of the sidewalk or the swell of your hip as he guides you through the door he’s just opened—four months of draining his balls after he’s sent you home with nothing more than a few wet kisses and tit-squeezes. the way your eyes shine like you’re about to cry if he denies you one last time…it’s too much. ��please—i need you,” you breathe out, reaching those gorgeously soft hands out to sweep against his cheeks, to plead with him to be a good boyfriend. he can’t make you suffer any longer—”i need you so bad yuuji, please don’t push me away…i’m your forever girl!” 

oh fuck. he might cum in his pants from hearing that alone. suddenly, silence falls upon his mind. he can only hear the echoes of your cries for him–no more voices in his head arguing about the best way to continue, only you. a guttural groan rips from his throat and he stands with your legs wrapped around his body, a broad hand snaking up your back to keep you pressed against him. you squeal a little at the sudden shift and the deep growl that he let out, his face now devoid of that playful man you’ve come to love. he looks so focused, so serious, his brow furrowed as he looks over your face. 

“i’m sorry i made you wait so long, pretty girl.” he nods, letting your body bounce on the bed as he’s set on immediately removing the remainder of your clothes. he pulls you to the edge, legs dangling over the sides. you almost think it must be too good to be true, sitting up on your elbows to catch a glimpse of that ravenous fire consuming his previously kind eyes. he’s leaned back to peel his own clothes off, but his eyes never leave your body. he looks over your lip pinched between your teeth to your pebbled nipples to the glistening slick coating your inner thighs. he doesn’t even know where to start, but he’s going to ensure that you’re finally taken care of. “i’m a dumbass—thought i was keeping you safer like that.” he mutters, leaning over to kiss the space between your ribcage. he makes his way to your jaw, licking a hungry stripe between your breasts and claiming your neck with bruising nips at the delicate flesh that greeted him. 

you’re set to mewling immediately, the flip switched in your boyfriend making you rub your legs together in anticipation. he chuckles and you can feel him smile against your skin as his hand snakes down to keep you from squirming. he quickly pecks your lips. “m gonna make it up to you now, baby girl.” his eyes are wide, but glazed over with affection. you nod, feeling his strong fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh to keep you from closing them, his abs raking over your sensitive clit as he lowers himself to his knees at the foot of the bed. your face burns as you realize what he’s going to do, but he doesn’t give you time to think about it before turning your mind to mush from the feeling of his fat tongue splitting your lips apart and breaching your tiny hole. he seems pleased by the way you react—back arching off the bed and hands gripping at the sheets from the surprising burn. it’s a good burn, the kind you’ve been craving for the months you’ve been with a man who loves you like he does, your wanton moans just cementing that his choice was the right one. he’s growing addicted to this already; your flavor on his tongue, your moans echoing in his ears and your thighs pressing in to the sides of his face. he feels your silky walls clamp down on his tongue, making his eyes roll back at the thought of putting his dick in something so tight. he slurps at the arousal slipping out, sliding his tongue to the hardened bud waiting at the top of your cunt. he wraps his tongue around your clit, making you jolt at the sudden increase in sensation. it’s amazing—goosebumps prickle out over your skin and you reach down to tug at the silky pink locks woven between your fingers. you can feel every nerve running through your body and how it builds with a fiery pleasure that you know only yuuji can give you. “oh my god—yuuji!” you cry out as that pleasure mounts to a tipping point. his teeth scrape against your hood to encourage you to fall over that line so he can see what he’s been denying you of for four achingly long months. 

you make the sweetest face when you cum, it has him closing a fist around his own dick to calm himself—the promise of having your pussy making him jerk at his own touch. you even sound so pretty as you shatter, legs jerking and your grip on his hair yanking almost painfully hard. it only makes yuuji smile wider, feeling a bubbly sense of satisfaction ripple in his own gut from making you feel so good. 

“nngh, yuuji–” you whine, your vision returning to normal after a few seconds of respite. he’s already pushing you back to the pillows, manhandling you into the bent position he wanted. you’re on your back, knees by your ears and a boyfriend giving you no time to be anxious about the angry and leaky horsecock sliding through your folds. you thought he was a sweet man, and maybe he still is–but his own excitement to have you has him forgetting his normal chivalrous behavior. “fuck–yuuji!” you claw at his biceps, fighting against that true splitting burn. his tongue was nothing compared to the girth he pierces you with—and he’s smiling so tenderly at your wiggling and struggling. 

“s’okay, cutie. you can take it, you’re already taking it!! didn’t you ask me to?” he raises a brow, face flashing with mock-confusion as your hands shove at his chest, all in an effort to get used to the feeling of him inside you. his thumb brushes your cheek, his other hand keeping the back of your thigh shoved back. “nyeh—you begged me! come on pretty girl–you gotta loosen up!” he laughs airily, moving the hand from your face back down to pinch and roll your aching clit. you jump at first, the touch sending another jolt of pleasure circulating to your brain–and then you relax enough for him to move. he’s got you folded in such a way that you can hardly breathe–or maybe that’s from how he slams into you recklessly, tip catching on your poor, innocent, cervix each time. it hurts, it burns everywhere—but it’s the best feeling in the world. his breathing grows ragged once he settled into a pace, brutally slamming into you in a way that led you to believe he wasn’t doing this on accident. 

soon, your hands around his biceps slip to your sides, eyes lulling into a pleasure-induced haze. you watch him, the twitch of his nose and the way his hair gets curly once it sticks to his forehead from his sweat. he’s perfect, and he’s finally giving you all of himself, really devoting himself to you, conquering any fear. you don’t mind if you’ll be bedridden for the next week—feeling his heavy cock in your chest from how hard he ruts into you—it would be well worth it to hear his grunts and whimpers of satisfaction, to feel the bruising grip he has on your body like he’s afraid you might disappear. it’s all so good, and exactly like you craved. “there she goes—takin’ it like a champ now!” he cheers you on, panting a little as he leans over your body and grabs the headboard, deepening his angle as if he wasn’t already fucking you brainless. 

the new angle makes your jaw drop in absolute earth-shattering bliss. you two could be the only people left on earth and you would never know—to consumed in yuuji itadori to notice anything else. you’re back to pawing at his chest, the coil in your gut building rapidly as he fucks into you like his life depends on it. you wanted everything, he’ll make sure he gives you everything. the headboard creaks, the bed moans with you and you truly do worry he might break it for a split second–but his broken moan of your name swallows up any wandering thoughts. a bead of sweat slides down the slope of his nose before it drops onto your cheek, the evidence of his hardwork. he moans your name again, warning you that the end was approaching. you nod as he moves your legs to his shoulders, leaning as close as possible to wrap you in his arms and kiss you in short, desperate bursts. he treasures you more than he thought possible, that look you give him right before your eyes roll back into your head from your orgasm makes his own dick jump within your vice-grip of a cunt. you make that sweet face again, a face he knows he’s hooked on—your pussy spasming around him to welcome his fat load gets him to make his own kind of special and beautiful face, lip between his teeth and adam’s apple bobbing at the same pace his balls slap into your backside. you swear you can feel his heart beating, his lungs filling and emptying as he flattens his chest to yours and fills your guts with his loving cum. he keeps thrusting even after he’s done, just watching your face contort and shift, your body bouncing in his arms. he likes the ache of overstimluation, and loves the way you mewl and hug him, eyes all sleepy and far away. 

“that’s it, you did it, so so good.” he praises in a soft tone, kissing your lips and then your nose and then your forehead with equal adoration. “can’t believe i kept us from feeling like that!” he shakes his head, kissing your cheeks to continue showering you in his love if not to keep you awake. he sits back up and slides out of you, quickly snatching his t-shirt up to catch the spillage. it’s hot, watching his seed trickle from your abused pussy—he whines a little at the sight, puppy dog eyes flickering over your body as if to wonder if you could take another round…

now that you’ve gotten him to start, you may never get him to stop.

[thebestsetter]

Leo Valdez is kinda obsessed with you.

Like, really. Even before you two began dating. Actually, especially before you two started dating.

Here's the thing: Leo was used to getting rejected by lots of girls, overlooked by everyone and feeling like he was not and would never be good enough. So, when someone - you - treated him with minimal decency, he was absolutely and undeniably hooked.

Your smile, your laugh, your touch, and everything about you made him feel all warm inside (even if he's already literally warm - but you know what I mean). And yet, he couldn't find the strength to confess to you, even if his feelings were eating him from the inside out.

It's just that - he felt like didn't deserve you. You deserved someone much better than little old him, and that's why he never made any advances besides the rare playful flirting (that only happened when he was feeling VERY brave).

But, one day, he decided enough was enough. He couldn't take it anymore: just watching you and knowing you're not his. Just thinking about you with another person made his stomach churn and his mouth feel dry.

He needed to find a way to win you over. He REALLY needed to. For both him AND for his friends, since they couldn't handle him talking about you all the time anymore.

But he couldn't just go and talk to you. Oh no, no. He needed it go perfectly. That's why he needed to practice.

"I love you, bad boy Leo!"

"No, you're not supposed to say that yet! I can't believe I messed up. Now, which wire do I need to unplug..."

It was a really funny scene, honestly. Just picture it: Leo freaking Valdez, one of the seven demigods from the prophecy, a guy who literally defied nature's order and came back from the dead, inside of bunker 9, talking to a robot who had a certain female demigod's voice and face stuck by tape to it's robotic "face".

"Okay, it should be all fixed now!" He smiled, clapping his hands to clean them a little "Let's try again. Caham!" He cleaned his throat and turned away from the machine.

Leo patted his shirt, passed his hands through his hair, fixed his imaginary tie and smelt his breath. When he deemed all was perfect, he turned back to the robot.

"Hello, mi Vida! How are you? Bet you're better now that I'm here"

"Yes, Leo! I'm much better now that you're here!" The robotic voice answered, using the pre-progamed speech

"Well, I need to talk to you about something very important" he grabbed the robot's hands, squeezing them while staring intently at your printed face

"Sure, Leo! I wanna talk to you all day!"

"Thank you for the compliment, Hermosa!" He smirked, and then started to get closer to the robot's face "I needed a lot of courage to actually talk to you. You know, you're an amazing person - the most amazing I've ever seen -, and I realized I fell for you because of that. I really, really like you. You're strong as heck, smart, funny, beautiful and, if I'm being honest, WAY out of my league. I know I'm probably too bad for you, but please give me a chance. I love you! Do you love me back?"

He waited a little. If he programmed this machine right (and he was sure he had. It was one of the most difficult - yet important - machine he had made in a long time), you - and by you, I mean the machine - were supposed to say...

"Hm. I'll think about it. You're kinda strange, you know? Talking to a robot and pretending it's me. But you're also cute, so I'll give it a shot"

"What the heck? It wasn't supposed to say that!" He muttered, confused, looking at the machine

"Hey! Don't call robot me an "it"! She's a "she", thank you very much!"

He was hallucinating. He probably was mentally ill or something. He hoped he was, at least. Because there was no way he just heard your voice. And not the robotic voice - your voice. That unmistakable sound, the one who appeared in his dreams and nightmares.

He didn't want to turn around. He didn't want to face you.

"H-how..." he asked, his hands forming little flames and face red "How much did you hear?"

"Since the very beggining" you laughed, and he could hear you getting closer - yet he still didn't want to turn around. "I didn't expect to see you talking to a robot version of me when Percy asked me to come bring you lunch"

He was going to kill Percy Jackson.

"Can't say I didn't like it, tho"

Huh. Maybe Jackson deserved to live another day.

"Really?"

"Really. I like you, Valdez. Ever since you gave me that tour on my first day here."

He finally - finally - turned to face you. His eyes drank in you - all of you. From your beautiful locks to your scrapped knees to your face. The shine in your eyes was something no printer could ever replicate.

"Really?" At that moment, he was the one who looked like a broken machine, repeating the same thing over and over - but he was still NOT believing this. He couldn't believe you actually liked him back. Him, the guy who talks to machines as though their living beings.

"Really" you laughed, the sound bringing a smile to his lips, as you got closer and closer till your hands were in his and he could literally smell your perfume "Let's give this a shot, Repair Boy"

Oh boy. You just broke him. Guess there's some things not even Repair Boy is capable of fixing, after all. His enourmous crush on you being one of them.

~ A/N: first pjo fic!! How are we feeling guys? 😋

[brainddeadd]

The Proposal

When a sudden immigration issue threatens to deport you back to Canada, you devise a plan: convince your charming but infuriating neighbor, Quinn Hughes, to marry you. What starts as a wild scheme leads to unexpected feelings, hilarious misadventures, and a deeper connection.

this was originally going to be a series but my brain went pooft

Your life is officially a disaster. All it took was a single letter from immigration. Due to some bureaucratic nightmare, your visa is expiring, and you’re suddenly at risk of being deported back to Canada—a place you haven’t lived in years. Your job, your friends, your entire life is here now. You pace your apartment, chewing on your lip, heart racing with panic. There has to be a solution, some way to stay.

That’s when the idea hits you—crazy, reckless, and entirely illegal.

You need someone to marry you.

But not just anyone. It has to be someone local, single, and trustworthy enough to go along with this scheme. Unfortunately, your options are limited. And then you think of your neighbor: Quinn Hughes.

The thought makes you groan aloud. Sure, he’s gorgeous—with his sharp jawline, quiet charm, and infuriating smirk—but the two of you are more like frenemies than anything else. Your relationship consists mostly of snarky comments in passing and the occasional argument over his terrible parking. But desperate times call for desperate measures. And besides, if anyone can convincingly pretend to hate you while still marrying you, it’s Quinn.

The Proposal:

Later that evening, you find yourself standing outside Quinn’s door, chewing nervously on the inside of your cheek. The moment he opens it, dressed in a hoodie and gym shorts, you blurt out, “I need you to marry me.”

Quinn blinks, stunned. “What?”

You take a deep breath. “It’s not what it sounds like. It’s just… immigration messed up my visa, and if I don’t fix this soon, I’m going to be deported. The fastest way to stay is if I marry a U.S. citizen.”

He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, a hint of amusement in his dark eyes. “And you thought I was the best option?”

“Yes,” you say, trying to sound confident. “I mean, you’re already in my life. Sort of. And it’s not like you have a girlfriend or anything, so…”

Quinn’s lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile. “You do realize this is illegal, right?”

“Only if we get caught,” you say quickly. “Look, it’s just a piece of paper. We don’t have to actually act married. We just have to fool immigration long enough for me to get my green card, and then we can… annul it or whatever.”

He studies you for a moment, as if weighing the insanity of your request. “What’s in it for me?”

You rack your brain for something to offer. “I’ll stop giving you shit about your parking.”

Quinn chuckles softly. “That’s it?”

“And… I’ll buy you coffee every morning,” you add, desperate.

He lets out a long, exasperated sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You owe me. Big time.”

Your heart leaps. “So that’s a yes?”

Quinn shrugs, looking both amused and resigned. “Guess I’ve got nothing better to do.”

Hilarious Misadventures Ensue:

From the moment Quinn agrees, things spiral into a series of chaotic events. You and Quinn suddenly have to act like the perfect couple, and it’s harder than you anticipated—mainly because the two of you are polar opposites.

1. The Wedding: You decide on a quick courthouse wedding to make it official. There’s no fanfare—just you in a white sundress and Quinn looking mildly annoyed in a button-down shirt.

“I feel like we should say something meaningful,” you whisper as the judge prepares to officiate.

Quinn smirks. “Like what? ‘Til deportation do us part’?”

Despite yourself, you snort, and the judge gives you both a strange look. You manage to keep a straight face just long enough to exchange vows—if you can even call them that—and sign the marriage license.

“Well, Mrs. Hughes,” Quinn teases after, flashing a grin. “How does it feel to be married?”

“Like I made a huge mistake,” you reply with a playful glare.

2. The Fake Instagram Life: To sell the story, you both agree to post a few couple-y photos on social media. The problem? Neither of you are exactly Instagram-savvy.

Quinn’s first attempt is a blurry photo of the two of you holding coffee cups. “What’s wrong with it?” he asks, frowning as you groan.

“It looks like a hostage situation, Quinn.”

After several failed attempts, you finally manage a decent photo: you sitting on his lap, laughing as he pretends to kiss your cheek. It’s fake, of course. Completely fake. But the way his hand rests on your waist feels a little too real.

3. Immigration Interview Disaster: The immigration interview is the real test, and it’s an absolute disaster.

The officer asks simple questions: “How did you two meet?” “What’s Quinn’s favorite food?”

You both answer at the same time, giving completely different answers.

“Spaghetti,” you say.

“Chicken tenders,” Quinn mutters.

You shoot him a look. “Since when?”

“I told you that last week,” he whispers back, exasperated.

The officer narrows her eyes, and you and Quinn exchange panicked glances. Somehow, you scrape through the interview, but not without promising each other to actually learn more about each other next time.

Feelings Get Complicated:

What started as a transactional arrangement begins to shift. The longer you spend time together—watching TV on his couch, cooking dinner side by side, sharing space in ways that feel dangerously domestic—the more the lines blur between what’s fake and what isn’t.

One rainy night, you find yourself curled up against Quinn on the couch, his arm casually draped around your shoulders. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you wonder if he feels it too.

“This was supposed to be fake,” you whisper, almost afraid to say it aloud.

Quinn’s hand brushes your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “But it doesn’t feel fake anymore.”

You look up at him, your breath hitching as his gaze drops to your lips. Before you can overthink it, he leans in, capturing your mouth in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s not rushed or rehearsed—it’s real. And it’s everything you didn’t know you wanted.

The Inevitable Realization:

Over the next few weeks, everything changes. The fake touches—his hand on your back, your fingers laced through his—become second nature. Quinn starts leaving his toothbrush next to yours. You start falling asleep in his bed more often than not.

And then, one morning, it hits you. You’re not faking anymore.

You sit across from him at breakfast, watching as he scrolls through his phone, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. It’s terrifying, how easy this has become.

“What are you thinking?” Quinn asks, glancing up from his phone.

You smile softly. “That maybe this wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.”

Quinn’s eyes crinkle with amusement, but there’s warmth there too—something deeper, more genuine. “Guess we’ll have to stay married, then.”

You laugh, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, Hughes.”

And for the first time, he doesn’t seem to mind at all.

[ro-is-struggling]

The Princess and The Wolf || PART 3 || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: Geralt returns to see his princess once again. Only this time he is not alone and after a year without communication he does not know if he will still be welcome.

Warnings: slow burn, grumpy x sunshine (or more like grumpy x disney princess lol), miscommunication, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, me trying to write domestic stuff, mentions of past trauma (for both Ciri and the protagonist/reader), Geralt Ciri and reader being a family, canon typical violence, my attempt at creating an original monster, some very long dialogues (sorry! I hallucinated half of the story and I couldn’t leave any part out apparently), FEM READER (the protagonist is referred to as woman/she-her/princess/sunshine)

Let me know if I missed anything! (I definitely did, I've been writing this part for so long there's probably a lot of stuff I forgot lol so just lmk)

English is not my first language

Word count: 21.800 (I'm not even sorry)

Notes: I’m sorry it took me so long to post this! I promise you I’ve been working on it since the moment I posted the last part but everytime I wrote a scene a new idea came to mind and I just had to add it so here we are. That moment with Ciri wasn’t in my original idea but I just had to include it cause that poor girl needs a hug! Besides, it was a nice way to explore a little bit more about the protagonist background 

I have a few ideas for the next part but please send me yours! (SEE THE END OF THE POST FOR MORE)

PART 1 || PART 2

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The cat was the first to sense his presence. Even before he knocked on the door or the sound of the horse's footsteps echoed through the hut, the cat was already meowing and pacing back and forth, going from the door to the window and back to the door. He always did that when he felt Geralt was near. He was possibly the only cat on the continent that didn't hiss and hide in the presence of a witcher, quite the opposite in fact. The feline knew he was good and trustworthy because she trusted him, so he ignored all his instincts and gave Geralt a chance. They became friends almost immediately —even though the witcher used to pretend otherwise. The cat loved Geralt as much as his owner, and had missed him almost more than she had.

More than a year had passed. A year without news of him, without a visit or a letter to let her know he was well. A year of uncertainty in which the mind of the poor princess had done nothing but think about what might have happened to him. On good days, she accepted with a broken heart that he was not going to visit her again after the disaster that turned out to be their travel together. It pained her to think that she had missed her chance with him. She felt alone and lost, but that was better than thinking that his absence was because something really bad had happened to him. Dark were the days when she woke up wrapped in sweat, with images of Geralt bloodied fixed in her mind. She had lost count of how many nightmares she had had about it, how many different monsters had been responsible for ending his life and taking away the man who made her happy and gave her purpose. So when that was the alternative, convincing herself that he had simply stopped loving her was more bearable to her poor tormented mind.

“It's not him, darling. He's not coming back here” she spoke to her cat, bending down to stroke his head. The feline meowed, as if to answer her, and jumped up onto the window sill. She let out a tired sigh and pulled back the curtains to open the latch to let the animal out.

It was then that she heard the murmurs and footsteps of a horse in the distance. The cat meowed once more and jumped out of the window, running into the darkness of the night. She followed him with her eyes, looking for him in the shadows to try to find out what it was that had him so agitated. In the distance, moving through the bushes and trees, she recognized the unique white hair of the man who had occupied almost all of her thoughts for the past year. She ran to the door, flinging it open and taking a few steps outside to ensure that her eyes were not deceiving her.

Geralt was there, not looking a day older than the last time she had seen him. She noticed that he didn't look hurt or in bad shape, so she couldn't help but wonder what was the reason for him showing up at her house after such a long time of complete silence. Though her questions were pushed aside when his eyes made contact with hers. All the pain, fear and uncertainty she had accumulated for almost two years dissolved the moment she felt his warm gaze rest on her figure. Her heart began to beat faster than it had in a long time, her stomach, full of butterflies, was twisting and turning because of her nerves.

She realized then that she had no idea how to react to his presence. What was she supposed to say to him? Was she supposed to pretend that she hadn't had the worst year of her life? Was it worth scolding him for his absence when he had finally decided to come back? Happiness and anger began to fight inside her with every step the witcher took towards her. Memories of them being happy were followed by images of the nights she had cried herself to sleep because of him, creating a conflicting narrative that did nothing but confuse her.

“Geralt...” She called his name when he was close enough to hear her. “What are you doing here?” The question sounded more accusatory than she expected, but she didn't have time to take it back —or double down on her complaints— because he stepped aside, revealing the figure of a young girl. It took the woman a moment to focus her gaze on the child since she was almost entirely hidden behind Geralt's broad shoulders. She had long blonde hair and pale skin, though her nose and cheeks were reddened by the cold wind of the approaching winter. In her hands she carried her cat, who purred happily at the gentle caresses she gave him.

The confusion about her own feelings was soon replaced by confusion about the girl and her relationship with Geralt. Her eyes traveled back and forth a couple of times, trying to piece together the reasons behind her presence and the explanation as to why Geralt was traveling with the girl. She couldn't have been more than thirteen years old, so it was hard to imagine that he had decided to travel with her of his own accord. Not after the things he had said to her on their journey together. She thought then that perhaps it was someone he had saved along the way, a young princess he had to rescue from the clutches of a monster or a poor girl who had gotten lost.

Whoever it was, Geralt didn't feel the need to tell her. “We need a safe place to stay.” Was the only explanation he provided her. She didn't insist either, ultimately she didn't need a reason to let him into her home. She stepped aside without a second thought, making room for them to enter and making sure to lock the door behind her back.

“You know, for someone that claims to not have friends you sure do have a lot.” She laughed and Geralt gave her a rather unamused look. “Who's this beautiful young lady?”

The girl looked up at Geralt, wide eyes looking up at him for his approval. The witcher nodded his head, a movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible. She only picked up on it because she knew Geralt so well and was already used to that kind of reaction, which told her that the girl knew him very well too. It was as if they communicated without speaking, just a quick glance was enough and they knew exactly what the other was thinking. It was impressive and she hadn't seen anything like it before, especially not with Geralt. It only increased her curiosity even more.

“I'm Cirilla.” The girl introduced herself with a shy smile, lowering the cat from her arms.

It took her a few seconds to understand why that name seemed familiar. When reality hit her, wide eyes flew to Geralt with an expression of confusion and surprise mixed together. He had once told her about the feast Jaskier had dragged him to and the way the event had ended. The last time they had talked about his child of surprise he seemed to want nothing to do with that matter. When she had presented her concerns to him he had told her that he had assured the child's family that he would not claim her. And honestly she had thought it was for the best. With the way Geralt approached life she couldn't imagine him raising a child.  That's why she didn't understand why he was now showing up at her house with her. What had made him change his mind?

She managed to compose herself quickly from her surprise, her eyes returning to Cirilla almost immediately so as not to make her feel uncomfortable. “That's a beautiful name, Cirilla!” She complimented her with a smile. “I'm sure you must be cold! I can run you a hot bath and then we can eat something. What do you say?”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you!” Cirilla's eyes lit up at the mention of the bath, desperate to feel the hot water against her cold skin. Since she had met Geralt her situation had improved considerably, but the cold outdoors was still something she was having trouble getting used to.

After leaving Cirilla alone in the bathroom with everything she needed to clean herself and restore her tired muscles, the young woman returned to the table where Geralt was sitting, ready to answer the thousands of questions he knew were swirling around in her head. Some of them —especially the ones about Ciri— were easy to answer, but others... he did not even want to think about it.

“I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with her.” she said, dropping into the chair across from him. “What made you change your mind?”

Geralt hesitated before answering. He wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to tell her that the last few months he had spent running away from her had been the most miserable of his life. That every day he spent away from her was agony. That he woke up hearing her laughter in the wind, missing the warmth of her body, longing to smell the perfume of her hair. He believed it was best for both of them if he stayed away. They could never be together and persisting in that fantasy would only hurt them. He thought he could do it, that he could forget her if he spent enough time away from her charms. He knew it wouldn't be easy and that it would hurt, but he was convinced that it would be the best for both of them in the long run.

However, months passed and the emptiness in his chest only grew heavier with each passing day. Geralt couldn't close his eyes without seeing her smile. He couldn't sleep without dreaming of having her by his side. He couldn't see a deer in the forest or a rabbit hopping around without thinking of her, of how happy he would be in her company, of the way she would take the animal in her hands and make him stop to play with it. His days were gray and dull, cold even under the hottest summer. Without her —without the promise of feeling her hands on his body or the hope of hearing her sweet voice call his name one more time—  life lost some of its luster.

He realized then that he could never forget her. She was the woman he loved, the only one who occupied his mind and heart, the only one who could make him seriously question his future as a witcher. She was his destiny, their paths had crossed for a reason that day in the forest. They were bound together by ties stronger than their own will, so there was no point in fighting against it. It was not worth running away from destiny if the only thing he gained was to deepen the emptiness that pressed on his chest. And she was his destiny, as well as Ciri was. He realized that if he wanted to stop feeling so miserable he had to stop fighting against what he could not change and face what destiny wanted from him.

But instead of admitting his feelings and being vulnerable in front of her, Geralt chose the easy answer: “Her kingdom was invaded. All her family was killed. I just couldn't leave her alone after that. She's in danger, she needs my protection.”

“So why bring her here?” She snapped back at him, sounding harsher than intended.

She wasn't upset with his presence, in fact she was glad to know that he still saw her home as a refuge where he was willing to bring Cirilla to make sure she was protected. All she wanted to know was why it had taken him so long to show up. Was he angry with her? Was their relationship broken beyond repair? Had he been preoccupied with his travels? Had he been avoiding her? Did he still love her? Those questions had been eating her up inside all these months. She thought she would never see Geralt again, so she had tried hard not to think about it. But he was there with her now and she needed those answers in order to ease her mind.

“I'm bringing her to Kaer Morhen with me, she'll be safe there. But she was getting tired and cold and since we were close I thought... We will leave in the morning if our stay causes any trouble for you.” Geralt assured her, trying not to cause a disturbance.

He should have figured that he couldn't just reappear in her life and wait for her to welcome him back with open arms. She had every right to throw him out if she wanted to, he had behaved like a complete bastard. But when he decided to seek refuge in her hut, Geralt wasn't thinking of him or her, but of Ciri. But now he understood that maybe he was asking too much of her. He was so used to using her home as a shelter that he didn't consider that the doors might be closed to him one day.

“I don't want you to leave. I want you to tell me why it took you so long to come back. I want you to tell me that there is a good reason for leaving me in the dark all this time, wondering what could have happened to you and if I was ever going to see your face again.”

“Sunshine, I...” Geralt tried to respond, but stopped in mid-sentence. He couldn't find the words to express how he felt, to explain to her how stupid he had been and how sorry he was for his mistake in a way that wouldn't make things worse. He didn't want to hurt her, even though he knew it was a little late for that.

She felt her heart squeeze at the mention of that nickname. She hadn't realized how much she had missed hearing his voice calling her by that name until that moment. It reminded her of the simpler, happier times they had shared, of long nights spent sleepless as they talked about life. It reminded her of how much she loved being called that by him and how her heart had skipped a beat the first time he had used it. She never knew what had prompted him to call her that in the first place —and she'd always been too embarrassed to ask—, but she was glad he had. It made her feel special, loved.

“Forget it.” she said as she noticed the internal conflict reflecting in Geralt's eyes. She didn't know what was making him so hesitant, but she began to think that maybe she didn't want to hear the answer to his question. Maybe it was better to live in ignorance after all. Maybe living on happy memories and moments that would never get back was better than living in harsh reality. All this time she had thought the uncertainty had been the worst, but seeing the doubt in the witcher's yellow eyes made her think that maybe the truth could be worse. She didn't know if she was ready to know that he didn't love her.

“Tell me about Cirilla. You said she is in danger, why?” She sought to change the subject, desperate to find a topic of conversation that would quell those thoughts.

“There's people after her, a black knight that has been following her since the fall of Cintra. She dreams about him every night.” Geralt explained, remembering the way the little girl tossed and turned in her sleep because of the nightmares.

“I can give her something to help with the nightmares so at least she can have one good night of sleep.”

“That's not all... she has magic.”

“Like her mother?” the woman asked curiously. She still remembered the details Geralt had told her about the feast that night where his and Cirilla's destiny had been linked. The magic that the young girl's mother had demonstrated was something she had never even heard of before in her life.

“I don't know what the extent of her power is, she doesn't talk much about it.”

“And you want me to do all the work for you, huh?” She guessed before Geralt could even hint at it. It was a long shot, but if anyone was going to be able to break through the barrier Ciri had created around her to protect herself, it was her. People always tended to open up to her, her sweet and charming nature sparked trust in even the most reclusive and distrustful person.

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to. I just... she's scared, I understand that, but I can't protect her if she doesn't tell me the truth. I thought that perhaps you could get through to her better than I can. You have magic too, maybe she'll be more inclined to talk about it with someone that understands what she's going through.”

“I'll see what I can do.” She promised him, unable to refuse to help a frightened little girl who had lost everything.

The young woman couldn't help but notice the protective way in which Geralt spoke of Ciri. She wasn't sure how long they had known each other, but from the way he cared for her she would say quite a bit. The witcher's trust wasn't easy to gain —it had taken her a while even after saving his life—, but the girl seemed to have done it in record time. It was heartwarming to see the way they acted around each other. She always looked at him before answering some of the questions the young woman asked him during dinner, as if she needed Geralt's confirmation to reveal certain information about her. It was clear that they trusted each other, in a way reminiscent of a father and daughter. Which made Ciri's reluctance to open up to him even stranger.

It was strange to see Geralt in such a position. He always acted so tough, like a lone wolf who didn't need anyone's company. Seeing the way he cared for Ciri —how he urged her to take the sleeping potion she offered her, warning her how important it was for her to get a good night's sleep— was almost jarring. Even in her wildest fantasies she hadn't imagined Geralt being a father. Now that she saw it, though, she liked it. It suited him. She only wished he had given himself the chance to explore that side of him much sooner. She couldn't deny that it pained her to know that she had always been right, the two of them could have worked out if only he had let it happen.

After they had dined and chatted for a long time, she, like the good hostess she was, escorted Ciri to the extra room she had unoccupied, telling her that it would be her space for as long as she wished to stay there. “Any friend of Geralt is a friend of mine. You're welcome to stay for as long as you want.” She smiled sweetly, trying hard to show the girl that she could trust her. Ciri thanked her before she closed the door behind her, making sure she knew she appreciated her hospitality.

When she left the girl's room, she didn't find Geralt anywhere. She didn't worry too much about it, assuming he would be out with Roach or securing the perimeter of the property to make sure Ciri could get a peaceful night of uninterrupted sleep. She let him do his thing, opting to tidy up the house and get ready for bed. She waited for him in bed, one last candle burning as she read a book. She assumed he would come to sleep with her as they had always done. Now that Ciri was occupying the only free room, the other alternative was to sleep on the floor. But time passed, the night grew dark and cold, and Geralt did not come. So she put on a cloak and went outside to look for him.

It didn't take her long to find him, she just circled the property and stumbled upon him in the makeshift stable she had at the side of her garden. He was sitting on a pile of hay, chatting with Roach while stroking the animal's fur. He had his back against the wooden wall and seemed to be settled there, as if he had no intention of moving. When she approached, he fell silent, so she couldn't hear what he was saying to the horse, although she had a good idea.

“What are you doing out here? It's freezing!” She said, crossing her arms under her cloak to keep her body warm. While it hadn't yet snowed for the first time, there was an icy dew in the air that looked a lot like it. And while she understood that Geralt had a higher tolerance for extreme weather thanks to his mutations, that didn't mean she liked the idea of him being cold in the stable when there was a warm bed waiting for him inside.

“It's not that cold.” he replied and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow, not believing for a moment that he truly didn't feel the cold. She had been outside for a couple of minutes and could already feel the cold starting to dig into her bones. “I was taking care of Roach.”

“She seems fine. Come inside before you freeze to death.”

“You know that won't happen.”

“Geralt, please.”

It was a gentle plea, with a hint of desperation. All she wanted was to have Geralt by her side during the night again. She wanted to lie down and find that she felt the same comfort she always had, that his presence made her feel as safe and comforted as she remembered. She wanted to feel his strong arms wrap around her at night and know that the doubts were only in her head and completely unfounded. She wanted to know that he still loved her and that it had all been a big misunderstanding. She was desperate to find a way to move on, to let go of all the pain that had haunted her. But she was terrified to talk about it, so all she had left was that. If Geralt didn't accept her offer then she knew all was lost.

“I don't want to impose...”

“You're not,” she interrupted him before he could blurt out any excuses. “I'm asking you to come inside with me.”

Geralt couldn't refuse that request. Even though things between them were weird, he still couldn't resist her charms. There was something in the way she looked at him, a glint of desperation growing in her eyes, that made it impossible for him to say no to her. It gave him hope. He thought she was angry with him, and she was, but inside her still burned the flame of love they had once shared. Maybe all was not lost. Maybe he could still make things right.

He followed her back into the house, pulling off his wet cloak and muddy boots before entering the room. It looked exactly as he remembered it, not a single object out of place. It was as if time had not passed. The flowers on the window sill were still as colorful and full of life as in the spring, the books stacked in the wooden trunk at the foot of the bed did not seem to have changed their order. The air smelled of her, that intoxicating mixture of floral perfume and wet earth that he had come to miss so much.

However, the reality of the situation hit him as he laid his head on the pillow. There was no goodnight kiss or silly talk before bed. She simply laid down on his side of the bed and settled down with her back to him before blowing out the candle that lit the room. They were only inches apart, but Geralt had never felt so far away from her before. Even when he was miles away, purposely avoiding her, he still felt close to her. How could he not when images of her wouldn't leave his mind? He kept seeing her in his dreams, reliving their happy moments every time he closed his eyes, fantasizing about hearing her laughter and feeling the warmth of her body once more. But now that he had her by his side, he felt nothing but a cold emptiness pressing on his chest.

He wanted to reach out to touch her. There was nothing he wanted more than to be able to wrap her in his arms and never let her go again, but he didn't know if he could —or if he should. He understood her hesitation, she had every right to be angry with him after the way he had reacted. He wanted to give her some space, some time so they could get their relationship back on track. He didn't want to pressure her, so he kept his hands to himself even though it hurt. He had to think of her first. He had no right to suddenly come back into her life after he had unilaterally decided to leave her, and demand the same treatment from her as before.

But what Geralt didn't know was that she wasn't avoiding him on purpose. She wanted to run into his arms, curl up on his chest and sleep wrapped in his warmth. But she didn't feel like she was the one who had to make the first move. Her feelings for him had never changed. She had been the one who had tried to make their relationship blossom. She had tried so hard to show him that they could have a future together. Geralt had been the one who had run away without explanation, so he should be the one to make the first move if he wanted to. She didn't want to pressure him, to make him feel like he had to do or say things he didn't want to just to protect her feelings. If he reached out to her, she needed to know that he was doing it because he really wanted to.

That was why his distance hurt her so much. Clearly there was something broken in their relationship and the most heartbreaking thing of it all was that she didn't know what to do to fix it —or even if she could.

The morning brought more pleasant weather conditions with it. The silent tension that haunted Geralt and the princess disappeared almost completely, mainly because they both sought to focus their attention on Ciri to avoid dealing with their own problems. Looking for an excuse that would give her the opportunity to spend more time with the girl, she asked Ciri to accompany her on a walk through the forest to replenish her collection of medicinal herbs. The winter was fast approaching and soon there would be nothing left but the plants she grew stored inside her house. Ciri agreed and Geralt joined them under the guise of hunting their lunch, although he had the decency to keep his distance so that they could get to know each other better.

It was a beautiful morning. Even though the autumn sun was not strong enough to counteract the cold breeze, there was no freezing mist that morning and that was already a reason to celebrate. Besides, Ciri was no longer wearing wet clothes and was well rested and fed, so she felt capable of accomplishing anything. The young woman guided her through the forest, telling her the details of the plants they needed to collect —their appearance, their medicinal uses, the potions and ointments she created. Ciri listened to her intently, fascinated and intrigued with the new information she was being presented with, wondering if she would be able to accomplish something like this someday.

“So you're a mage then?” Ciri asked, looking up at the woman walking beside her smelling a white flower.

“Not exactly.” she replied, earning a look of confusion from the girl. “I have an aptitude for magic, but I wasn't officially trained. I was taught by a healer everything I know, but magic is far more complex than what I know or the things I can do.” She hastened to explain as she knelt down in the dirt to pick up a couple of valerian leaves and put them in her basket.

“Is that how you met Geralt? Through your powers?”

“My abilities did play a part in the story of how we met, yes, but not in the way you're probably thinking.” The princess lost herself in her memories for a moment, images of that day flashing before her eyes. It felt so close and yet so far away at the same time. It was amazing to look back and see how far she had come both as a person, as well as their relationship. “He didn't tell you about us, huh?”

“He said you were an old friend, but didn't answer any of my questions. He's not particularly chatty.” Ciri said with a chuckle and she couldn't help but laugh too. If there was anyone who knew how difficult it could be to get a topic of conversation out of Geralt, it was her. She could almost imagine the girl's effusive curiosity running into the witcher's frustrating monosyllabic responses, just like it used to happen to her.

"Oh trust me, I know."

Geralt could hear them talking, but decided not to intervene. Instead he watched from a distance as they laughed together, feeling happy that they were getting along. Not that he thought it would be difficult, Ciri was a lovely girl and his sunshine was one of the sweetest and nicest people that existed on the continent. But still, it was nice to see them conversing so comfortably. It made him feel a strange warmth inside, a strange feeling unlike anything he had ever felt before. But he liked it, he found it comforting.

“We met after I escaped my home.” The princess began to tell her story, thinking carefully about every word before she said it. It was a great opportunity to build trust with Ciri, to let her know that she could understand her better than anyone else since she had also been a child frightened by her own powers. “You see, a long time ago I was a princess, just like you, trapped in a kingdom that had forbidden magic long before I was even born. I had to learn everything I know in secret, hiding from my parents and my own kingdom. Ruling wasn't my calling, especially in those conditions, so one day I decided to run away.”

Ciri's interest was piqued, her eyes growing wide with curiosity as she listened intently to the story the young woman told her. She told her about the monster that prowled the forests of her kingdom and how she used it to fake her death so she could escape a future she didn't want in a kingdom that didn't appreciate her. She also told her that was the reason Geralt showed up at her town, having been hired to kill the monster and avenge the death of the princess. But instead of encountering a beast, he found the young woman hiding in the forest.

“He could have taken me back to the castle. My parents probably would have paid him more to return their presumed dead daughter and heir to the throne home, but he didn't... he listened to my pleas and had mercy on me. He saved my life... everything I am today, everything I have, I owe to him. Geralt gave me a second chance in life and for that I will be eternally grateful.”

The princess smiled, remembering the details of their first meeting. Geralt had truly saved her life. She had failed to properly prepare for her escape, acting hastily and recklessly after an argument with her father that ended with him yelling at her that she was a disgrace to his family for not wanting to marry a lord who didn't love or respect her and only saw her as a way to gain more power. No matter how well she knew those woods, she could not have gotten very far on her own. And if anyone else had found her, they would have returned her to her parents without a thought, condemning her to a life of misery.

But Geralt had not done so. He had taken pity on her, putting her well-being above gaining greater wealth even when he did not know her. He had given her the opportunity to discover herself in complete freedom, far from the demands and mandates of her parents. Everything she was, was made possible by him. That's why she was always willing to help him, no matter how angry or upset she was with him. She couldn't let go of the hand of the man who had taken hers and pulled her out of the dark pit that was her former life.

“He saved my life too.” Ciri said with a sad smile on her lips. “He's the only family I have left.”

“I'm sorry about that,” the young woman offered a smile, resting her hand on the girl's shoulder and giving it a supportive squeeze. “You shouldn't have to go through all that violence and pain, no child should. But you are in good hands with Geralt, he's going to take good care of you. Don't let the big, grumpy frown and the stories about witchers fool you, he is a big softie with a heart of gold.”

They shared a few chuckles and continued on their way, searching for the herbs they had yet to gather. The princess told Ciri about the Celandine plant and its medicinal properties —telling her to keep her eyes open in case she saw a four-petaled yellow flower—, and about the Eyebright plant and how it had cured an eye infection in a girl's eye in the village. She also shared with her some of the stories of her life, how she had practically grown up in the forest and the peace she felt when she was in contact with nature.

Ciri liked to hear those stories, especially when she told her about the difficulties she faced in understanding and learning to control her powers in the beginning. It made her feel less lonely to know that she wasn't the only one who had to go through something like that alone and without much guidance. It gave her hope for her future. Watching as she bent down to heal the broken wing of a bird on the side of the road, Ciri thought that if she had managed to understand and control her powers then there was still hope for her too. Maybe one day she would stop being afraid of her own abilities. Maybe she would come to understand what was wrong with her and the purpose of her powers.

“Why did they prohibit magic in your kingdom?” the girl asked curiously, marveling at the healing capabilities of the runaway princess' powers. It only took a touch of her hands and the utterance of some words she did not understand for the bird to recover, flying from her hands to get lost in the treetops. Ciri could not understand how something as wonderful as that could be seen as a bad thing. Her powers were nothing like hers, so it was hard for her to think that they would be viewed as displeasing to anyone.

“No one really talked about it, and I was always too afraid to ask. But from what I understand, magic ran in the royal family, but it had never brought the kingdom any luck, only chaos and destruction.” she explained returning her attention to Ciri now that the bird had disappeared from her vision. “Apparently it made people too unstable to rule. My great grandmother was the last one to have magic before me and she was the reason it was banned, but no one really talked about it so I don't know exactly why. For the most part everybody just pretended magic didn't exist, especially my parents. I think they knew that I inherited my great grandmother's abilities and they thought that maybe if they didn't mention it might go away. But the only thing they accomplished was to isolate me.”

She paused in her story and Ciri could notice in her eyes the pain those memories caused her. The joyful and sweet expression that graced her face was replaced by a sad and melancholic look. It was only for a second, but her face changed so much that she looked like a completely different person from the one who was standing next to her minutes before. Ciri wondered what kind of horrors she would have had to go through in her old home and if that expression was so different because it belonged to the princess she had left behind.

“When I started showing the first signs of chaos, I didn't know what was going on with me. I was terrified.” She cleared her throat and then her face lit up with its usual sweetness again. “If it wasn't for the new court physician I would have never learned the truth. She was a mage on the run, hiding in the last place she thought they were going to look for her. She noticed the signs immediately and took me under her wing, taught me everything I know... how to control my powers, how to use them in the art of healing, and more importantly, she taught me to not be afraid of them, to not let the fear of others influence me.”

She gave Ciri a small smile, hoping she understood the meaning behind her words. She wanted to be that positive figure in her life, to pass on to Ciri the knowledge and confidence that had been passed on to her in her training. It wasn't much compared to what other mages could teach her, but it was a start. She was willing to be the guide she so desperately needed, if Ciri would let her.

“Were they afraid of you because you were different?” The girl asked, looking at her with wide eyes full of curiosity. It was a question she was asking both the woman beside her and herself. The princess recognized that, so she stopped in her tracks and turned to look Ciri in the eye. It was important for her to hear and understand what she was about to tell her.

“Probably, yes.” she admitted with a sigh. Ciri lowered her gaze and she took a step forward, reaching out to grab her chin and make her look up. “But you have to understand that fear is one of the most common reactions people have to the unknown, to that which they don't understand. It's not personal, they just can't help it. One important thing I learned over time is that reaction is something you can't control, there is nothing you or I can say or do to stop those who don't understand magic from fearing it. But what we can control is our own fear. And it is important not to let the fear of others affect one's perception of oneself.”

“But what if they are right?” Ciri's voice was close to a whisper, almost as if she struggled to utter those words aloud. As if she was afraid to admit what her mind had been repeating to her since the fall of Cintra, fearing that saying it would make it real. “What if magic only brings death and destruction?”

It was clear to the princess that Ciri was referring to her own powers. She didn't need to know her too well —or even know the details of her powers— to understand, she could see it in the tears that had gathered in her eyes. It broke his heart to see the little girl in that state. She was just a child, it wasn't fair that she had such dark thoughts clouding her mind at that young age. Fate had been very cruel to her, taking away her family and home in a single act of terrible violence that she had had to witness without being able to do anything to prevent it. Not only that, but now she had to face her future and the development of her powers with no one to guide her. No child should have to go through something like that. All she wanted to do at that moment was to hug Ciri and tell her that there was nothing wrong with her, to assure her that everything would be alright and that her life would get better. But before she could even utter a word, a strange sound echoed throughout the forest, distracting her attention from the girl.

Her gaze instinctively searched for Geralt, who was already alert. His eyes searched the surroundings as his hand slowly approached the handle of the sword resting on his back. She felt Ciri's hand squeeze hers and returned her gaze to the girl. She was met with her expression of terror, which only got worse as the rumbling of what could only be described as a deafening shriek was heard.

“Geralt!” The woman called his name, hoping he would give some sort of explanation for what was happening.

Though he didn't need to say anything, because at that instant a figure came into view in the distance. It was a monster, but not one like anything she had ever seen or read about. It was large, with multiple legs and eyes, and a long tail that ended in a sharp point. It was like a strange, disgusting mix between a scorpion and a centipede, a large creature that towered tall above them. It stood still for a moment, keeping a relative distance, as if searching for something specific. The princess pushed Ciri behind her, instinctively seeking to protect her. The creature shrieked again and Geralt pulled out his sword.

“Run!” He commanded them before advancing towards the beast with his sword held high.

The princess hesitated for a second, feeling the need to reach out to him to help him, but Ciri tugged on her hand and reminded her that she needed hisprotection. They ran through the forest holding hands, helping each other keep their balance when they stumbled due to their nerves. She tried to keep Ciri safe, positioning herself a few steps behind her to protect her from a possible surprise attack with her own body. From time to time she looked behind, searching the horizon for the figure of Geralt or that monster to know in which direction to flee. But it was difficult to follow the fight when she was also worried about looking after Ciri. She needed some sort of vantage point that would allow her to observe the enemy so she could prepare for its attack.

“Is it gone?” the girl asked in fright as she tried to catch her breath. They had stopped momentarily when they saw that the monster was no longer at their heels. They couldn't hear it screeching either, so they thought maybe Geralt had taken care of it.

“I don't know.” she answered honestly, pushing Ciri against a tree to hide in case he came back. “I don't see Geralt anywhere.”

“Should we go back to look for him?”

“No, that's too dangerous... we need to get to higher ground.”

Before she could say another word, the beast made its presence known again. It came out of nowhere, screeching and moaning, no doubt hurt by the witcher. But in spite of that, it rushed towards the direction of the two princesses with the same voracious determination. Ciri screamed and grabbed the hand of the woman at her side to start running once more, but she stayed in place.

There was no sign of Geralt anywhere and given the amount of legs that beast had, it was clear that they couldn't outrun it. Ciri wouldn't be able to escape from there without someone to give her a head start.

“Run north, up the hill and hide there. Don't look back!” she ordered and the girl looked at her with confusion.

“What about you?”

“I'll come look for you, but I need to buy you some time to run.” She explained quickly, keeping her eyes on the beast that was getting closer and closer to them. “Go, Ciri! Now!”

The girl hesitated, finding the scene all too familiar. The number of times she had had to leave someone behind to save her life was more than she would like. It never ended well and she felt responsible for all the lives that had been sacrificed to get her there. She hoped Geralt's friend wouldn't join the list, she didn't know if she could tolerate one more death on her conscience.

As soon as Ciri started to run, she concentrated on attacking the monster that was chasing them. She moved out of the girl's way, seeking to draw the beast's attention to her to distract it. But to her surprise, it didn't seem to care. It continued on its way in the direction of Ciri as if she were not in that forest. And if it wasn't because she invoked the sign of Aard the beast probably wouldn't have bothered to attack her. It was clear that its target was Ciri, although she could not understand the reason.

She used what little knowledge she had of magic outside of healing to attack the monster. She relied on the Quen sign to protect herself when the beast came too close, just as Geralt had taught her. And she summoned Aard's power to throw the beast away from her, slamming it into every tree and rock she could find in hopes the impact would stun it and give her a chance to escape. She put up a good fight, but it was clear that she couldn't beat him with her limited skills.

Luckily, she didn't have to. Geralt appeared just in time to save her, crossing his sword with the beast's pointed tail before it could hurt her. They shared a simple, quick glance, but that was enough for them to communicate. Geralt's eyes assured her that he would take care of the beast and asked her to protect Ciri. She nodded to him, letting him know that the girl's safety was her priority before running after her.

It didn't take her long to find Ciri, she knew that forest like the back of her hand. She was hiding in the bushes, ready to attack anything that came near her. The girl almost hit her in the stomach with a log when she approached her hiding place, fearing it was an attacker coming to hurt her. She stopped just in time though, wide eyes looking at the woman in front of her with surprise. She hadn't expected to see her there —not after learning the fate of all those who had stayed behind to give her a chance to escape danger—, but she was glad she was all right. Ciri felt safer with her by her side.

“Where is Geralt?” asked Ciri worriedly, looking behind the woman's back for her protector's white mane.

“He's fine.” she assured her, approaching the edge of the hill to look down for movement that would indicate Geralt's whereabouts. But she saw nothing. Nor did she hear the shrieks of the beast pursuing them. All was quiet, almost too quiet. It gave her a bad feeling. “Come on, we have to keep moving.” She indicated to Ciri, taking her by the hand once more.

But before they could get more than a couple of steps away, the monster reached them, cornering them against some rocks and the ledge. It was so sudden, that the princess could do nothing more than create a protective energy field, enveloping her and Ciri's figure in a semi-transparent whitish bubble that kept the beast away from them. She pushed the girl behind her and told her to prepare to run when she gave the signal. Ciri protested, refusing to let her face the beast alone, but she assured her that she would be fine. The truth was that she didn't know, but she had no choice but to stand between the monster and the girl it so desperately sought to attack. She was going to fight to her last breath to protect it because it was the right thing to do —and because it was what Geralt expected of her.

However, her countdown only reached two before a sword pierced the beast's body. It let out a shriek of pain and tried to lunge at its attacker, but Geralt plunged his sword even deeper, giving it one last thrust before withdrawing it to let the creature bleed out. The beast collapsed to the ground, spreading a viscous dark green liquid oozing from its mortal wound onto the earth. It writhed a couple of times until it stopped moving, signaling that life had left its body.

The princess let out a sigh of relief, breaking the energy field now that it was safe for Ciri. The relief didn't last long, however, because Geralt collapsed next to the beast, dropping his sword with a loud clang. She and Ciri ran to him, calling his name with concern. He was still conscious when they knelt beside him, though he looked weak.

“Let me see.” she asked when she noticed Geralt squeezing his thigh with one hand. He moved it, allowing her to inspect the wound closely.

There was a tear in his pants and beneath it the skin of the witcher's thigh was swollen and reddened. There was a puncture wound that leaked drops of blood mixed with a thick black liquid. Making a closer inspection, she noticed the small black lines branching out, veins standing out on his skin as they slowly began the work of spreading the poison through his system.

“Fuck!” she muttered under her breath as she tore a piece of the skirt from her dress.

“What?” Ciri asked worriedly, watching as she tied the piece of cloth around Geralt's thigh, just above his wound, and tied a tight knot that caused the witcher to groan in pain. “What is it?”

“Poison.” she replied simply, picking up Geralt's sword from the ground and using it to cut the stinger from the tail of the monster lying lifelessly beside him. Then, she removed her cloak and used it to wrap the tail in it, making sure it was safe to carry without coming into contact with the poison the stinger held. If this was a new monster —or at least, one she didn't know about— she was sure that having the direct source of the poison would be of vital importance to save Geralt's life.

“We need to get him back home. Now.”

Luckily, Geralt was still lucid enough to walk. The slow beating of his heart and the tourniquet she had improvised with part of her dress helped keep the poison from spreading through his body quickly, but it still needed to be treated urgently. Ciri helped her carry him, each of them putting one of Geralt's arms around their shoulders and holding him tightly to help him move with more ease and speed. They were not far from the hut, but it was not easy to travel with Geralt in that state, so it took them longer than usual to get there.

Once home, the princess settled Geralt on the bed, just as she had done so many times in the past, before running to get her potions and ointments to treat the wound. Ciri sat beside him on the bed, looking at her protector with concern as he mumbled in pain. She noticed that the wound on his leg was getting worse with each passing second and for a moment she was afraid that something bad was going to happen to him. She couldn't lose him, not after going through so much to find him. Geralt was the only thing she had left, her only hope, she couldn't lose him.

“Ciri, could you help him drink this?” The woman asked, handing her a small glass vial with a yellowish green liquid inside. The girl was grateful to have been entrusted with a task, something she could do that would help her feel her presence was useful. “It will help his body battle the effects of the poison.”

Ciri took the bottle with one hand and Geralt's head with the other, lifting him slightly off the bed so he could drink the potion. While she brought the bottle to his lips, the princess tended to the wound on his leg. First she carefully washed it, using warm water and a clean cloth to remove the blood and drops of poison that remained on the skin. Then, she spread an ointment of her own creation on the wound while uttering an incantation in the ancient tongue.

She concentrated all her energy on him, repeating the incantation with increasing strength and conviction. She was treating it as she would any wound infected with poison, but the reality was that she didn't know if that would work. The creature that had attacked him was new to her, so she didn't know if its poison would respond to conventional treatments. So she devoted all her energy to him in the hope that it would be enough to save him. And while arranging some herbs on the wound before bandaging it, she prayed to the gods that her beloved would wake up.

Geralt heard her sweet voice in the distance, and felt the warmth of her fingers brushing the skin of his leg. He tried to let himself be carried away by the warm energy that she transmitted to him, to drown the pain he felt in the peace that her voice awakened in him. He tried to concentrate on her so as not to faint, clinging to the scent of her skin and the melody in her voice as if his life depended on it. But even his stubbornness and unwavering willpower were not enough to combat the effects of the poison. And though he fought against it, eventually his eyes closed and everything went black.

The last thing he heard before he slipped into unconsciousness was the sweet voice of his sunshine telling him, “rest.”

Ciri did not move from Geralt's side. She insisted on taking care of him and controlling how his condition was progressing while the princess investigated the stinger she had extracted from the beast. She began by extracting some of the venom that was still inside it, being very careful not to let it come into contact with her skin while she transferred it to a glass vial. She did some tests with it, studying how it reacted when in contact with different herbs and medicinal plants, as well as some of the potions she had in her catalog. None of the results she got were what she expected, so she began to worry. Maybe this thing was different after all. Maybe she couldn't save him this time.

“I think something is wrong!” Ciri suddenly exclaimed, breaking her concentration. The princess didn't ask her any more follow-up questions, she simply followed her into the room and approached Geralt to examine him.

He was definitely not looking like he should. He had been resting for a few hours, yet his physical appearance had worsened. He looked paler than usual and his breathing was irregular. A thin layer of sweat adorned his skin, and when she reached up to touch his forehead she discovered that it was hot.

“This is wrong.” she muttered to herself, undoing the bandage so she could examine the progress of the wound on his leg.

“What's wrong? What's going on?” Ciri questioned the woman, desperate to hear her professional opinion.

Lifting the bandage, she discovered that the wound had only worsened. The skin was swollen and hot to the touch, and the black veins stood out even more against the pale skin, extending until they were lost under the tourniquet that was still tight around the witcher's leg. “He's getting worse...” she murmured, concern and confusion mingling in her voice. “He's not responding to the treatment.”

“There must be something we can do!” Ciri insisted and the woman looked at her, not knowing what to say. She didn't know of any other ways to treat a wound as such, at least not ways that weren't pure legends. She could always research and try some alternative method, but she wasn't sure she had enough time for that.

“Kaer... Morhen...” Geralt stammered weakly, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Vesemir will know what to do.”

She just gave Ciri a look and the girl ran off to the stable to prepare the horses for the journey. She stayed behind with Geralt, grabbing a couple of her remedies and the beast's tail before carrying the witcher on her shoulder once more, dragging him with some difficulty to the door. When Roach saw the state his owner was in, she lay down on the ground to allow him to climb onto her back more easily. She gave the mare a few gentle pats and kind compliments before helping Ciri mount Brego, the horse she had personally raised after finding him badly injured and forgotten on a road. Once the girl was safe and settled, she mounted Roach behind Geralt, wrapping her arms around him to hold him in place as she took the reins and they set off.

She didn't know the exact road to Kaer Morhen, only that it was south of where she lived. She had a few clues that gave her more details from the stories Geralt had told her about his life, but that was all. She had never asked him much about it, she knew that after being attacked the witchers kept to themselves and she didn't want to pressure him to reveal those details. She thought that maybe, if someday he felt comfortable enough with her to tell her about his home, he would. But now she was regretting not being more nosy.

Geralt was going in and out of consciousness, so while he could give directions from time to time, he was not the most reliable source. Ciri also didn't know the way since she had never been there before. However, Roach was a very smart horse who had traveled those roads many times in the past. So when they came to a crossroads, the mare advanced along the left-hand path with confidence. And before they knew it, they had reached Kaer Morhen.

“We need help!” she shouted and a middle-aged, white-haired man ran to meet her, startled by the commotion. His eyes fell on Geralt and she noticed the concern in them as he reached out a hand to touch the witcher's forehead.

“What happened?”

“He was attacked by a creature. He's been poisoned and I don't know how to stop it from spreading.”

“Get him inside!” At his command, a group of men grabbed Geralt and carried him inside. The young woman grabbed Ciri, holding the girl against her body so as not to lose her as she very timidly followed the others.

Both she and Ciri refused to leave Geralt, so Vesemir —the name given to them by the man who received them— had to work under the watchful eye of the two. He asked them about the attack and the young healer explained as best she could the details of the beast that had chased them. She didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified to discover that an experienced witcher like Vesemir didn't seem to know what kind of creature she was describing.

“This may help.” She said, pulling the beast's tail covered in an old cloth from her bag. “I tested the poison against every plant and healing element I know of and nothing seems to work.”

“That's not the only problem.” the man said, gesturing for her to come closer. “You see this inflammation here? It's full of the creature's venom.” Vesemir lightly pressed the lump on Geralt's skin and a couple of black drops escaped from the puncture wound. “The venom is lodging there for some reason, spreading slowly to maximize the damage. No treatment is going to work until we extract it.”

“How can I help?”

“Hold him still.”

Vesemir rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a leather bag containing a couple of syringes, needles and other useful artifacts for healing a witcher's wounds. He took the middle syringe, with a relatively long needle, disinfected it and then rested his gaze on the young woman in a silent way of telling her to get ready. She nodded slightly, tightening her grip on Geralt's leg to make sure he didn't move it. Vesemir then inserted the needle into the wound very carefully. It was important that he didn't accidentally burst the bubble of poison that had been created under the skin or it might end up spreading faster.

Geralt mumbled in pain and his body twisted as Vesemir began to extract the poison, but the young woman kept a firm grip on him. And when that wasn't enough to keep him still, she resorted to talking to him, just as she always did when he showed up injured on her doorstep. She murmured sweet words of encouragement and her soft voice seemed to be enough to bring peace to the witcher. His body stopped writhing and his rapid breathing gradually calmed down.

When Vesemir finished extracting the poison, the young woman watched in horror as the dark liquid almost filled the syringe. She wondered how that beast had been able to inject so much poison in such a short time and worried about Geralt's condition. How much poison had made it through his system? She liked to think not too much since he was still breathing, but the amount of viscous liquid trapped in the syringe worried her. Vesemir didn't seem particularly worried, but she wasn't sure she could read the expert witcher's emotions as easily as she could read Geralt's.

She watched him rummage through a cabinet full of elixirs until he came across a dark-colored one. He ripped off the cap with his teeth and poured some of the contents on the wound on Geralt's leg, who groaned in pain but did not open his eyes. Then he passed the bottle to her.

“Make him drink this.” Vesemir instructed him before disappearing out the door.

The young woman was assisted by Ciri in the task. The little girl helped her hold Geralt's head high enough so that he would not choke on the liquid while she parted his lips and placed the spout of the bottle between them. The witcher coughed a little as the liquid touched his throat, but it was only for a moment.

“It's alright, you're alright... everything is going to be fine.” She murmured words of encouragement as she emptied the elixir down his throat, though she wasn't entirely sure to whom she was directing such phrases, Geralt or herself.

When Vesemir returned, two other witchers accompanied him. At the man's request, they took Geralt and led him to his quarters to rest.

“Is he going to be alright?” a very worried Ciri asked as she watched the weak and fainting body of her only protector being carried away.

“Only time will tell. The next few hours are critical, if he makes it through the night I'm sure he'll make a full recovery.” Vesemir was honest, perhaps a little bit more than he should have been with a girl like Ciri. He was already busy analyzing the extracted poison and the tail of the beast that had attacked and almost ended the life of one of the best witchers left on the continent, so he didn't realize the impact of his words on her until he turned and met the expression of fear and worry on the girl's face.

“Geralt is strong, he's not going down without a fight. I've seen him pull through worse things.” He tried to reassure her. “You are invited to stay here, if you are friends of Geralt you are always welcome. Although I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany you, I have to study this thing in case Geralt's condition gets worse.”

“I can stay with him.” The young woman offered. “Keep an eye on him and call you if anything feels off.”

“Sure, that will be of much help. Thank you. Just ask one of the boys to guide you to Geralt's chambers.”

The young healer was very interested in learning about the elixirs and other things Vesemir had in that room. Some things she could recognize, some she had an idea of what they were and some were completely new. She was a curious person, especially when it came to her area of expertise, so she had a million questions to ask Vesemir. She would have loved to stay and see what tests he conducted on the poison and what things he looked for in the animal's severed tail. But her priority now was Geralt. She needed to know that he was okay and she wouldn't rest until she saw him open his eyes again. So she took Ciri's hand and headed for the door, but not before thanking Vesemir for the hospitality.

At first Geralt thought he was dreaming. His eyelids felt heavy and he was disoriented. The world around him was a blur and he could hear a ringing in his ears. He couldn't remember where he was or how he had gotten there, and the harder he tried to recall any images of the last few hours, the more difficult it became. It was like trying to remember a dream, the blurred and confused images escaping from his mind as he struggled to capture them. Yet somehow, in the midst of the chaos that was his mind at that moment, he found her. She was lying next to him, curled in on herself in the small space on the bed that he did not occupy. Her beautiful, delicate face was partially covered by her hair, but he didn't need to see it to know she was asleep. He found her before anything else, a beacon of clarity in the midst of the darkness clouding his mind. Only then, his mind decided to cooperate, recognizing images and patterns around him that helped make sense of where he was.

And yet, Geralt remained focused on her. If the dizziness didn't make him feel like in a dream, seeing her like that, so relaxed and peaceful next to him, definitely did. It was a scene that almost didn't seem real after a long year of distance and yearning. It was a sight he hadn't had in a year, her curled up beside him, sleeping peacefully next to the warmth of his body. There was no weird tension in the air or unspoken discomfort like that other night. She genuinely looked comfortable and calm next to him and Geralt couldn't help but smile.

But beyond that, her figure sleeping next to him was a beautiful sight he had never had the pleasure of having in his own home. Their encounters always occurred outside, in the maelstrom of the real world or in the calm of her hut in the forest, but never in his home. Geralt had awakened many mornings with the young woman in his arms, but none had been in his own bed, covered by his own blankets, hidden in the safety of his own room. He discovered then that he liked the feeling of sharing that space with her. It made everything he felt for her feel more real. It made his longing to stay by her side seem more feasible. She was there with him, caring for him and keeping him company, and the world seemed right again.

Geralt tried to sit up in order to better admire her beauty, but instantly regretted it when he felt a sharp pain in his leg. He let out a low grunt, bringing his hand to the bandage wrapped around his thigh with a grimace of confusion. Then flashes of the last few hours overwhelmed his mind. He remembered fighting the monster that chased them in the forest. He remembered the sharp sting of its tail and the burn of its venom. He remembered Ciri's worried look and reaching Kaer Morhen. But most of all, he remembered the gentle touch of his healer on his fevered skin and the sweet sound of her voice lulling him to peace as she always did. Her voice echoed in his mind and the mere memory seemed to be enough to silence the ringing in his ears and ease the pain in his weak and tired body. That didn't surprise him, though. Geralt had long since ceased to be amazed by the effect she had on him. He had learned to accept it, just as he accepted the day turning to night or the winter turning to spring. She was his light, a warm sun on the first day of the equinox that lengthened the day and melted the ice to allow the fields to bloom. She was his sunshine and he realized now that he had spent the last year living in an eternal winter to which he never wished to return.

The movement of the bed beside him brought Geralt out of his thoughts. He leaned over just in time to see his princess open her eyes as she stretched slightly. He could admire the confusion in her expression for a few brief seconds as her sleep clouded mind struggled to figure out where she was. Then her eyes opened wide and her gaze fell upon him. He was glad to see a glint of joy in them at finding him awake and had to bite the inside of his lip to hold back the smile as he saw her jump up in bed.

“Geralt! Are you okay? How are you feeling?” She questioned him with a strange mixture of excitement and concern in her voice.

“As if I had died and was brought back.” He replied with his classic dry humor, though it wasn't that far from the truth. His injured leg still ached when he moved it and his muscles felt tired as if he had spent all night battling a striga.

“You're not that far off.” She shrugged, rising from the bed to pour him a glass of water. Geralt accepted it gladly, drinking the contents in a couple of long sips. Boy was he thirsty!

“How long was I out?”

“Considering you've been in and out of consciousness since the attack, I'd say almost two days.” Geralt was surprised by that answer. In his mind it had only been a couple of hours, but apparently he remembered less than he thought.

Then, Ciri's worried face presented itself in his mind. “Ciri!” He exclaimed, jerking upright. He regretted moving once more, though, when the pain forced him to let out a grunt.

“She's alright!” The young woman hastened to say as she helped Geralt sit up. She took the pillows and stacked them carefully against his back, giving him a softer surface to lean on. Then she helped him recline on them, taking advantage of the moment of proximity to run her hand over his forehead and check for fever. “She's sleeping in the room next door.” She explained as she arranged the blankets so he wouldn't be cold. She knew he had grown up there and was probably used to the cold temperatures, but boy was the witchers' lair cold! “That girl refused to leave your side! I had to fight her to get her to go to sleep. She wanted to be here when you woke up, but I didn't want her here in case...” she trailed off. In case he didn't wake up was what she was going to say, but she couldn't bring herself to utter those words. Although she didn't have to, Geralt knew it when he noticed the sudden sadness that flashed across her face. “Anyway, I had to promise her that she would be the first one I would look for when you woke up to get her to go to sleep. And even then she stayed for another hour here.”

Geralt laughed, that sounded like Ciri. “Thank you... for keeping her safe.”

A silence formed as she took it upon herself to check his vitals. His breathing seemed normal, the same with his pulse —well, normal for a witcher. He no longer had a fever and when she uncovered the wound on his leg she noticed that the skin around it was in better condition. There were no more black lines or reddened areas. It was still somewhat swollen, but the skin was no longer warm to the touch, which was a good sign. Geralt enjoyed feeling her hands on his body, traveling from his forehead to his cheeks and gently brushing the skin of his leg. He swore the warmth of her fingers was all he needed to make the pain in his body go away. He felt a little more alive with every caress, every accidental touch. The magic of her touch slowly melted the hard layer of ice that had formed around him after a long year of harsh winter, but this time Geralt didn't fight it. He wanted her to do it, he wanted her light to finally allow spring to come. He was done running away from her.

“I'm sorry,” she said in a soft, almost inaudible voice as she changed the bandage on his leg. “I should have done more to help you... I just... I didn't know what to do.”

It took Geralt a few seconds to understand what she was saying, not because of the low volume of her voice, but because he found it incredible to hear the guilt in her words. “You saved me.” He pointed out as if it were obvious and she let out a snort.

“You almost died because of me!”

“I almost died because I was too slow and I got attacked by an unknown creature. I didn't expect you to know what to do, even I wouldn't have known what to do. But you brought me here in time and you keep Ciri safe, that's all that matters.”

The young woman smiled, not as big of a smile as Geralt had hoped, but enough to know that his words did have some sort of effect in easing the guilt that for some reason he didn't understand, she felt for what had happened. “That's nice of you to say.”

“It's the truth.”

“Whatever,” she said as she put away her leather case of ointments and healing potions. When she sat back down on the bed, Geralt noticed she had a nervous look on her face. “I would like to stay here with you and help you get back on your feet. I feel like I owe you that. It wouldn't be for too long, I mean, you had a great recovery so far and I'm sure you'll be alright, but I wouldn't feel right leaving you before I know for sure that you're okay... I know this place is... special, I guess, and that you don't let many outsiders in... and I wouldn't want to intrude, but I just couldn't leave without making sure you're okay.”

Geralt found her nervous rambling adorable. He would like to say that the feeling she felt was unfounded, but after how he had treated her he understood why she would be uncomfortable talking about such a thing. The last time she had made an effort to bring their worlds together he had rejected her. And not only that, but he had completely disappeared from her life for a year. He completely understood her nervousness and felt terrible knowing it was his fault.

“I want you to stay.”

Those simple five words were enough to arouse a sense of joy she had not felt in a long time. Those were the words she had waited all this time to hear, the confirmation that Geralt was willing to share some of his world with her after all. She would be lying if she said she didn't feel somewhat special. She knew that not many people had the privilege of walking through the gates of Kaer Morhen not having been raised there and she felt honored to be one of those few. A small smile tugged at her lips and Geralt knew then that his words had had the desired effect.

“Besides, I think your presence can be a good influence on Ciri. You can help me guide her on the right path and keep her safe.”

“I'll try my best, but I don't know as much about magic as other mages.”

“That's not the only thing you can teach her.” 

Geralt knew very well that she had not been professionally trained. She had never gone to Arethusa to have her talents molded and sharpened, but that wasn't important to him. Geralt valued her for more than her magical abilities, he always had. For him one of her best traits was her personality, her way of facing the world with courage and optimism. She was one of the strongest people he knew, and he wasn't sure she knew it. Ciri needed someone like her, someone who could guide her through the dark shadow of tragedy and loss that clouded her path to reach the side of light. He could give her the tools to defend herself and face her fears, but she could teach Ciri to see the world from another perspective, a more positive and joyful one, something she desperately needed.

“I think it will do her good to have someone like you around.” Geralt smiled, his hand reaching for hers on the blanket. He felt the energy coursing through his body as they touched, her warmth melting the ice around his heart. The atmosphere in the room changed, suddenly more intimate and special. He wanted to tell her that her company was good for him too, but regretted it at the last moment. He didn't want to overwhelm her or sweet-talk her into forgiving him. If she decided to stay by his side, he wanted it to be her own decision.

The moment was cut short when the bedroom door opened, revealing a freshly awakened Ciri. The girl's eyes lit up with joy as they met the figure of a very lucid Geralt sitting up in bed. She uttered his name in an exclamation of surprise and crossed the room in a matter of seconds to throw herself into his arms.

“Careful!” the young woman warned her, “He's still hurt.”

“You were supposed to call me!” Ciri ignored her, choosing to scold her for not waking her up.

“I was just about to come get you.” She laughed, stepping aside so the girl could sit next to Geralt on the bed. “But since you're here, I'll go let Vesemir know Geralt's awake so he can come take a look at him.”

Contrary to popular belief, witchers were capable of feeling human emotions. That was something the young woman already knew, although living in Kaer Morhen surrounded by the last remaining witchers on the continent allowed her to appreciate the degree of emotions they felt. They were a strong brotherhood and cared deeply for each other, as evidenced by the tree of the fallen, as she called it. A place where the medallions of all the witchers who had perished hung, with more being added with each passing winter. But besides that, she learned that they were quite a fun group. Perhaps it was because they were in the safety of their home, resting after long months of hard work, but their attitudes were not at all what she expected. They kept telling jokes and playing tricks on each other, admittedly rather ordinary for her taste in some cases, but they didn't fail to make her laugh.

They were respectful to her —she suspected Geralt had something to do with that—, but still made her feel welcome in their home. She found it interesting to be surrounded by the most intimidating and roughest looking men on the continent and feel as safe as she did in her own home. She was sure that if her first encounter with many of them had occurred outside the walls of Kaer Morhen, her opinion would be different. Just as when she first met Geralt, it was very likely that the imposing figure of the witchers would have intimidated her and it would have taken her a long time to discover that they were actually very nice people. Lambert and Coen were her favorites, their constant bickering always amused her greatly. Although sometimes she had to confront them to make them be nicer to poor Ciri. They were training her along with Geralt just as Vesemir had trained them and it was the woman's job to remind them that she was just a child.

Vesemir was very good to her as well. Not only had he not complained when Geralt announced that she would be staying with them, but he agreed to indulge her curiosity. He let her watch him work on the analysis of the tail of the monster that had attacked them, even asking for her assistance in some things. They did not reach any satisfactory conclusions, but it was interesting to participate in the process. She learned a lot about the witchers and their creation from Vesemir, as well as the elixirs that helped them on the battlefield. He was a very wise man, and she was honored that he trusted her with his knowledge.

However, her favorite thing was seeing Geralt so relaxed and free, laughing with his siblings and acting like a father to Ciri. It was a side of him she didn't know. Of course he laughed and had fun with her when they spent time together in her hut, but that was different. Their encounters were always filled with this... tension in the air, tainted with unspoken feelings and silent longings. It was a constant countdown, the black cloud of reality always near no matter how hard they both tried to ignore it. From the moment Geralt walked through the door of her home, she knew that the clock had started ticking and that the happiness that was invading her at that moment would come to an end sooner or later. But there was no such thing in Kaer Morhen. There was no rush and no time, so Geralt could relax and be himself. And thanks to that she had discovered a much more... playful and joyful side of him. And she loved it.

What she also loved was the nickname that others had for him. The first time someone had called him wolf, she thought she had heard wrong. They were eating at a table all together and the shouting made it hard to even hear Ciri sitting next to her. But the next time it happened there was no noise to block her hearing. She and Geralt were in the kitchen since this time it was his turn to prepare dinner. He had gone hunting in the morning and now he was in charge of skinning the animal for her to cook. She didn't pay much attention to the conversation Geralt had with Vesemir when he appeared in the kitchen, focused on cutting the vegetables for the stew without hurting her fingers. But her ears pricked up when she heard him utter that nickname.

Wolf

The word echoed in her mind for a while, drowning out whatever was going on around her as she cooked. It was a fitting nickname for Geralt now that she thought about it. Everything about him screamed wolf, both externally and internally. Beyond his imposing presence, great hunting skills and impressive agility, he often hid behind a cold and hostile appearance. When he entered a room he could evoke the same fear and respect in people who did not know him that a wild wolf evoked in a traveler who stumbled upon it unexpectedly on his journey. The witchers had a certain reputation among the common people, built on myths and lies long spread across the continent. And while they were not true, Geralt found them convenient. It was easier to travel the world when people feared him —at least, most of the time. But that cold attitude was a sham, a shield protecting who he really was. He liked to present himself as a lone wolf who didn't need anyone, but in reality he cared about people, especially those closest to him. And just like a wolf protecting his pack, Geralt was willing to do anything to care for those he loved the most. Sometimes she thought that was exactly why he decided to stay away from people. He cared too much and that could be terrifying, not only because of the state of vulnerability it left him in, but also because of the degree of atrocities he would be willing to commit to protect his own.

“Wolf, huh?” She muttered as Vesemir left. She discovered she liked the nickname even more as she uttered it aloud. It was sweet and it felt good to finally have something to fight back with when he called her sunshine. “I like it,” she smiled, ”It suits you.”

“How so?” Geralt arched an eyebrow, wiping his hands on a rag before taking a few steps towards her. The woman pushed aside the knife she held in her hands, looking up to stare at the witcher.

“Well, you're imposing and agile as one... you're incredibly observant and great at hunting... and you're willing to fight tooth and nail to protect your own.” She spoke thoughtfully, listing characteristics as they came to mind. Geralt admired her with a slight grimace of amusement, thinking how much he missed having those kinds of conversations with her. “You're like a big scary white wolf who acts all tough but that's all for show, lots of bark and little bite.”

Geralt let out a snort. “It is?” he inquired and she nodded, even though she knew it wasn't technically true. He was quite capable of actually following through on his threats when he made them, but it was much more fun for her to tease him about his soft side.

“Yes! I mean, it took me a couple of weeks to earn your trust and then you were rolling over and showing me your belly like a dog asking for pets.”

Geralt let out a sarcastic laugh, but the truth was he couldn't quite say anything to contradict her. He wished he could wipe the smug smile off her face, but she was right, he had taken a liking to her rather quickly. And worst of all, it had happened without him noticing until it was too late. He became accustomed to her company — to wake up to the sound of her voice and listen to the sweet melody of her laughter— to such an extent that when she was gone the world felt wrong. He could not pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with her, one day she was a frightened girl asking for his help in the forest and the next she was the ray of sunshine that brightened his days. Just like that, without warning, she had made a place in his heart that she refused to give up no matter how hard he tried to push her away.

“But it's okay, I like that duality.” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “You're my big, scary, but surprisingly gentle white wolf.”

The young woman smiled tenderly as she used her fingers to push a lock of hair away from Geralt's face. It was an unconscious thing, a movement engraved in the memory of her muscles after having done it so many times in their long nights of conversations. When she realized it, she felt the urge to move her hand away, embarrassed by her audacity. Their relationship was in a very gray area, things were not clear at all. She was no longer angry with him, but things between them had not yet returned to normal, so the intimate gesture seemed out of place.

Or at least that's what she thought until she saw the way Geralt leaned over her hand. It was probably an unconscious movement as well, but she used the moment to test the waters. She let her fingers trail along his temple, slowly making their way down to his cheek. She did not dare to look him in the eye, so she focused her gaze on the movement of her hand, admiring the marks and scars that adorned the witcher's skin. She noticed that there were a couple that were new and couldn't help but wonder about the stories behind them. What kind of adventures had he had while he was distanced from her? What monster could have caused those injuries? How had he healed them? Had it been him or maybe it was someone else's work? Had someone else taken her place in the time that had passed?

She didn't like where her thoughts were going, so she covered the marks with her fingers, cradling Geralt's cheek. Then she mustered up the courage and looked up, curious as to what might be going through his mind at that moment. She found the witcher's golden eyes were fixed on her, admiring her with longing and, dare she say it, love. There was a warmth in his gaze that drew her to him. It made her feel seen in a way she hadn't felt since the moment he left. He was the only one who could make her feel that way, so safe, so desired... so loved. And he was the only one she wanted to look at her that way.

She didn't realize how much closer she had gotten to Geralt until she felt his nose brush against hers. His warm breath mingled with hers as it escaped her half-open lips, caressing them with the promise of that long-awaited kiss that never came. She wanted to move, to close the little distance that separated them and finally discover what it would feel like to kiss him, but it was impossible for her to do so. She was trapped under Geralt's intense gaze. Like a moth to the flame, she was lost in the golden glow of his eyes, waiting expectantly for his next move.

But the kiss never came. Only this time it wasn't because she backed down or because he regretted it at the last second as had happened in the past. This time it was Ciri's interruption that broke the moment and forced them apart.

“Lambert sent me to help you because he says you're taking too long so- OH! Sorry, sorry!” The girl blushed upon finding them in such a compromising position. She instinctively backed away, ready to run out the same way she had come, but the woman stopped her.

“It’s fine, Ciri! Stay, please. I’m definitely going to need some help cooking enough food to satisfy those gluttons out there.”

“Come on, focus! I know you can do it.” The woman tried to encourage the girl, who was having trouble generating any kind of magical reaction from the moment they had started the lesson.

She didn't know much about magic outside of healing, so that was her starting point. From what Geralt had told her about Ciri, the girl had much more power than she did, so she figured that teaching her to channel her magic in one aspect gave her enough tools to begin to control other aspects of her powers. She began with easy lessons, remembering the things her mentor had taught her when they were just starting out. She had previously told her about the potions she made and the type of plants she needed for each as a way of easing her way into things. But several lessons ago she had moved on to more complicated things that involved more active use of her powers.

They were sitting in the common room, near the fire. It was a cold day, though that hadn't stopped Ciri from going out to train with her wooden sword. Geralt was the one who had to drag her inside to meet the healer for her magic lessons, and she didn't seem very enthusiastic about it. For that very reason she had given the girl a relatively simple exercise, the same one they had been practicing for two lessons. In a pot was a dried plant. Its stems were still green in some places, but much duller, and the leaves were withering more and more with each passing day. The goal they were working towards was to revive the plant, although she would settle for any kind of progress. The woman remembered that the same exercise had taken her quite some time, so she showed patience to Ciri. But on the other hand, the girl was supposed to have much more power than she did, so she was slightly concerned about the lack of response.

Ciri snorted. “I'm trying! It's not easy.” It was clear that she was frustrated but she had to keep pushing if she wanted to get any kind of reaction from her.

“Not hard enough!”

She was not referring to Ciri's efforts in her lessons, it was clear that she gave everything she could. The problem was that she always arrived tired, if she arrived at all. She wasn't giving her magical training the attention it deserved, preferring the sword and the training ground outside to mastering her natural abilities. She understood it to an extent, it was easier to train the body than the mind, but she needed to see how important it was to learn to manage her powers. Those were the ones that would be with her for the rest of her life, the ones that could save her in a situation of extreme danger, and she needed to know how to use them to her advantage.

“You're focusing too much on learning how to fight when this is just as important.”

“Maybe I am because at least that's where I'm making progress.”

“I know it's hard, Ciri, but you have a responsibility. Your powers are something extraordinary, but you owe it to yourself and everybody around you to learn how to control them.” Her voice was not accusatory or dismissive. On the contrary, she made an effort to sound soft and empathetic. She wanted to make the girl understand the importance of her lessons and knew she would not succeed by making her angry. Besides, she knew very well how frustrating it could be when things didn't go as expected, she had gone through that too when she was the one learning to handle her powers.

However, Ciri didn't take it as kindly as she had hoped. “What do you know about responsibility? You abandoned your own people! At least I'm trying to fight to avenge mine!” The girl raised her voice, jumping up from her seat and giving her mentor an angry look.

“Ciri!” Geralt, who was sitting in the corner of the room fixing his armor, wanted to intervene. However, the woman waved him to stand aside. She understood that it was misplaced anger and didn't need him to jump in for her.

“It’s fine. You are right, Ciri. I abandoned my own people because it wasn’t a safe place for me… or anyone like me, if I’m being honest. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make… Realizing that my own home wasn’t safe for me was heartbreaking, but strangely liberating.” The girl's gaze softened and she resumed her place beside her. “I was trapped in that place, surrounded with people that hated me for who I was, for things I couldn’t control. My own parents thought I was a disgrace… they hid me, silence me, broke my spirits in the hopes I wouldn’t become my great grandmother. And for the longest time I let that get into me. I let them define who I was. I hated myself and my powers because everyone else did… and the more I tried to ignore them, the more I tried to suppress them, the worse they got. I had to learn to let go, to stop focusing on the negative things because it was doing me no good.”

Ciri looked at her with glazed eyes, the anger in her expression slowly morphing into sadness. “How do you do it?” her voice was almost a whisper that broke the woman's heart. She could hear so much pain in those simple words that she couldn't help but reach out to entwine her hand with hers. Suddenly, the girl's inner struggle was evident on her face. She could feel the sadness and weariness that overwhelmed her. She had been through so much at such a young age, it wasn't fair. “I can't let it go.”

“You don't have to… you just have to take control of yourself and stop letting your fear and anger control you.”

“How can I do that when everyone I love is dead… when everywhere I go I bring blood and destruction?”

“You make a choice about who you want to be because you are the only one that has the power to do that, to define yourself.” The woman moved a little closer to Ciri, lightly tightening her grip on her hand in support. “You see, magic is extremely connected to our emotions, to our most instinctive reactions. If you see it as a bad thing, as a burden, a curse… if you see yourself as a monster, a murderer that can only create chaos and destruction, then you are letting your fear define who you are. You are limiting your abilities and the chance to explore your potential.”

“How are you so sure that I'm not… a monster?” 

A tear rolled down Ciri's cheek and the woman was quick to wipe it away with her thumb. She had to hold back her own tears, focusing on being a support for the girl at that moment. But she would be lying if she said she wasn't able to see herself in the frightened eyes of the young princess. She knew that fear very well, she had experienced it firsthand and that's why she wanted to help her overcome it. It was not fair that she was going through it, no one deserved to go through the horrors she had gone through at such a young age. Ciri was alone, homeless, without family, and forced to discover the terrifying foreign world at the same time she was discovering herself. It was an extremely vulnerable position to be in, but the witch would try her best to accompany her every step of the way. She didn't have to go through it all alone.

“Because nobody is born a monster.” The girl said with gentle simplicity, a sweet smile growing at the corner of her lips. “I grew up ashamed of who I was. My parents dreaded the day I was old enough to take over my kingdom. They couldn't wait to hand me over to the first nobleman who seemed competent enough, so that if one day I became unstable and dangerous because of my powers he could stop me from destroying everything they had worked so hard to build... No matter how hard I tried to make things right, they trusted a stranger more than their own daughter. Most of my childhood was clouded by this dark shadow of sadness and loneliness, until I realized that was exactly what they wanted. They wanted me to be afraid, to be alone and ashamed because then they could control me, mold me into whatever they wanted me to be. Choosing something else... choosing to be happy with who I am, choosing to help others and use my powers for good was a decision I had to make... it's a decision I make every morning when I wake up, and it's not an easy one. The easy thing is to be consumed and paralyzed by fear. Seeing the good in life and in yourself is a conscious decision that you have to make. It is one that only you can make, but I promise to be there for you when you need me. You don't have to be alone in this.”

Ciri threw herself into her mentor's arms and she held her tight against her chest for as long as she needed. She buried one hand in the girl's blonde hair and gently rubbed her back with the other until she could no longer feel her sobs against her shoulder. Her eyes searched Geralt's with a worried expression. Ciri had so much bottled up inside her that suddenly the potential danger of her unexplored and uncontrolled magic ceased to worry her. However, when her eyes met the witcher's she found nothing but calm in them. He admired their embrace with a knowing smile and she knew then that he approved of the way she had handled the situation.

Seeing the way Ciri opened up to her, Geralt was glad he had asked for her help. Swallowing his pride had definitely been the right decision. The girl didn't just need protection. She needed guidance, support and an understanding that he, as much as he wanted to, could not give her. But his sweet sunshine could, she was always open to help whoever came to her door. Geralt knew from the start that he had to take Ciri with her, not just because of her knowledge of magic or her empathic abilities, but because she was the one he always turned to when he needed guidance or a reason to keep fighting. She had a way of brightening people up that was unique. He used to think it was part of her nature, her warm, positive personality that was finally able to shine through once she was out of the prison she used to call home. Although after hearing what she told Ciri, he realized that brightening others and making them feel at peace was an effort she made every day precisely because she knew the dangerously cold and dark depths to which the mind could descend when there was no such support.

“You can rest for now, my dear. It's fine, you have done enough for one day.” The sweet voice of his sunshine brought Geralt out of his thoughts. He watched as she patted Ciri's back as the little girl wiped away her tears.

“No, it’s okay. I want to try it one more time.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to, we can continue the lesson tomorrow after you have a good rest.”

Ciri insisted so she stepped aside to let her proceed. The girl took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm her emotions as her mentor had taught her. She raised her hands to the plant that withered with each day she failed and closed her eyes. She tried her best to quiet the voices that always echoed in her mind, the ones that scared her and held her back every time magic was mentioned. She erased the images of Cintra in flames, the figure of the dark knight chasing her and the horrors that followed her every time her powers were activated. She replaced those dark visions with her mentor's words of encouragement, repeating them over and over in her mind as a way of convincing herself that all would be well and that she had nothing to fear.

Then she felt a warmth tickling her fingers and heard the gasp of the woman sitting next to her. She opened her eyes instinctively, concern already written in her expression as she looked around for answers —and to make sure she hadn't hurt anyone. The woman smiled at her and motioned with her head to look at the potted plant resting on the table. The plant itself hadn't changed much. It still looked dry and dull, but the stems were a brighter green and some of the leaves had turned from dark orange to an almost greenish yellow.

“You did it!”

“I did it!” Ciri threw herself into her mentor's arms once again, only this time with a big look of happiness on her lips. When she pulled away, she took the pot in her hands to admire her work more closely. “Geralt, look! I did it! I finally did something!”

Geralt joined in the celebrations, giving Ciri a pat on the back and a few words of encouragement to let her know he was proud of her unbreakable spirit. She fit in so well with the rest of the witchers that he was starting to get a little scared. She was as stubborn and broken as most of them. But she was also as hard working and fierce as they were. He could see a lot of himself reflected in her, in fact. She had the same eagerness to go out and prove herself in the real world that both he and his brothers had when they were just starting their training. That same impatience that Vesemir had fought so hard to quell and that reality had finally destroyed. He had to keep an eye on that.

When the moment of euphoria was over, Geralt sent Ciri to rest. “You have done enough for one day” he told her and this time the girl disappeared up the stairs with a smile on her lips, happy to have proven herself.

“I was nice what you said to her.” Geralt spoke once he was sure Ciri could not hear them.

“I just told her what I wish someone would have told me when I was her age.”

“You never told me about it… what your parents did to you.”

“Well... it's a part of my life I don't like to remember often.” She shrugged, leaning her hips back against the table as she stared at a fixed point on the wall in front of her, lost in thought. Geralt admired her delicate profile, and with a heavy heart he wondered what kind of sad memories might be swirling through her mind at that moment. “Although, in a strange way, it made me who I am today, so I guess something good came out of all that shit in the end.” She also thought that thanks to her parents' mistreatment —and her consequent escape— her path had crossed Geralt's and she would always be grateful for that. However, she decided not to mention it.

“Just when I thought I couldn't love you anymore, I discover that your act of rebellion against the world that treated you horribly is to be the kindest, sweetest person on the continent.” Geralt let out a laugh, returning his attention to his half-repaired armor that had been left forgotten on the table. But she remained silent, frozen in place.

Geralt had not thought carefully before speaking —something that happened to him more often than he would like to admit when he was with her. He didn't even realize the implications of his words until it was too late. He just stated a fact, a simple fact that had been on his mind ever since he had overheard her talking to Ciri: finding out that after all the bad things she had been through she was still the sunshine she was, made him love her even more. Geralt had always known that she was a strong and extremely brave woman, but this was the first time he really knew the extent of that strength. He had seen honest men be consumed by resentment and hatred for far less, so the fact that she strove to be a source of light and positivity not only for herself but for everyone who crossed her path was a reason to admire her.

He was so entranced by her that he didn't notice what he said —what he inadvertently admitted— until a few seconds later, when he wondered at her sudden silence. When he looked up, he found her eyes fixed on him. Those beautiful eyes that normally brought him peace, now put his insides in knots. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Geralt was paralyzed. His mind was completely blank, not knowing what to do or say, as he waited for some sign from his sunshine.

“I-” She started to speak, but before she could say anything else the doors to the hall opened, ushering in a group of noisy witchers who had just come in from hunting for dinner.

After the moment was broken, neither she nor Geralt brought up the subject again. They both thought about it countless times, wondering in the nights before bed what would have happened if they hadn't been interrupted. However, they were too afraid to face the situation, so they let the tension linger in the air, increasing with the growing list of unanswered questions.

Another great thing she had discovered about living in Kaer Morhen was that there was a pack of wolves nearby. The first time she had seen them was one afternoon walking around the fortress with Geralt. He hadn't let her get close, of course, claiming it was too dangerous since they were wild animals. That hadn't stopped her at the time and luckily it had never resulted in any injuries, but one never knew when their luck might change.

“That's why you're here,” she had replied, ”you'll save me if they try to eat me.”

“I don't know, will I?” He had joked in his characteristic dry tone. “If you get hurt after my warnings it is entirely on you.”

She snorted and punched him in the arm, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Of course you will! You can't live without me.” She had said that as a joke, but it was much closer to reality than she probably imagined. He was willing to do anything to keep her safe because he truly couldn't live without her. He had tried for a year and had been miserable every second he was away from her.

After having to drag her away from the wolves that day, Geralt really shouldn't have been surprised to find her playing with them weeks later. He knew her and the effect she tended to have on animals, but even so, he found it impressive the way the wolves reacted to her touch. She was sitting on the cold ground covered by a thin layer of snow. Next to her rested an adult wolf who closed his eyes with pleasure every time she stroked his head. In her lap a puppy let her scratch its belly, stretching out on her with every movement of her fingers as if preparing to take a long nap. In the distance the rest of the pack watched the two brave –or foolish— enough to approach a human, making sure they were safe.

She was speaking to them, Geralt could see in the distance that she was moving her lips, and hear the whisper of her voice on the wind, but he could not make out what she was saying —though he could almost imagine it, he had been through a few similar situations with her in the past. He was lost in thought as he admired her playing with the wild animals like they were mere domesticated dogs. A smile formed on his lips as he thought that at least he wasn't the only one completely enraptured by her aura, the entire animal kingdom joined him in that sentiment. Even his own horse loved her more than him. But he understood Roach, she was someone special and he had been lucky to cross her path.

“I see why you like her.” Vesemir's voice startled him, when had he arrived there? “She is a lovely woman.”

“She is indeed.” Geralt agreed without looking away from his princess, who was now laughing in amusement at something the wolf cub in her lap had done.

“Are you sure you're doing the right thing?” The older witcher spoke again and Geralt's brows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concentration. “Are you sure she is compatible with our way of living... with our life's mission? There's less of us every winter and something big is coming, I know it... I can lose you, wolf.”

Geralt was silent for a moment, contemplating Vesemir's words. The gods knew that he had asked himself that same question multiple times since he had met her. The answer always changed depending on his mood. Sometimes —especially when he spent a lot of time with her in her hut— he was sure that his future was at her side and that nothing could ever keep him away from her. Other times, when the pressures of reality forced him to abandon his fantasies, he recognized that their relationship was complicated at best and impossible at worst. But all that had changed after she was attacked by a Bruxa.

After failing to protect her that time he convinced himself that their relationship should end, not because it was incompatible with his life itself, but because he was too afraid of losing her. The images of that attack had not left his mind in the year he had spent away from her. It plagued his nightmares when he slept and his thoughts when he was awake. He was so horrified at the thought of losing her because he was unable to protect her from danger that he was willing to endure a life of misery just to make sure she was all right. In his experience, missing what could never be was better than mourning the loss of those who were gone and could never come back. So he endured the gray days and sleepless nights, finding comfort in knowing that his princess was safe and sound in her hut, far from the danger he represented.

Geralt had convinced himself that this was for the best because it was the simplest option, the clearest solution to his problem. Keep her safe by staying away from her and wait for the time to pass and help him forget about his feelings. But now he was not so sure. Maybe it was the thrill of being reunited with her after yearning to feel her touch for a year. Or maybe it was the optimism of his sunshine speaking through him, but Geralt was beginning to consider that maybe there was a future for them where neither of them had to suffer. It probably wouldn't be easy, but life's hardships hadn't stopped her before, so why should they stop him?

“We can make it work.” He finally said and for the first time since she had entered his life, Geralt felt a sense of certainty as he spoke those words.

Vesemir didn't answer him, although Geralt didn't give him much time to do so because seconds after those words left his mouth, he was walking towards her. When he approached her, the first thing she did was make excuses for what she was doing, expecting Geralt to scold her for not listening to his warnings. But he wasn't interested in that, he had far more important revelations to share with her.

“I know what you are going to say, it's dangerous and all that, but they came to me for help!” she hurried to say while petting the wolves to make sure Geralt's presence didn't disturb them. “This little one was hurt! I couldn't let him die, he's too adorable and fluffy! I saved his life and now they like me.”

“Do you remember what you told me when I arrived at your home with Ciri?” Geralt ignored her rambling. She looked up from the puppy gently nibbling her fingers to meet his eyes. He wasn't sure if the look of confusion on her face was due to his sudden question or because she didn't know the answer, so he continued speaking. “You wanted to know why it took me so long to come back... I've been thinking a lot about that, especially after hearing you talk to Ciri the other day.”

The woman rose on her feet from the cold ground, leaving the wolf pup next to his brother. “Geralt, what is this about?” she inquired, wide eyes watching him curiously and somewhat warily, like a deer startled by the presence of a noisy stranger.

“All my life, the one I remember at least, I’ve worked towards one goal and one goal alone… kill all monsters on the continent. It’s what I was trained to do and I never questioned it… I never wanted to do anything else, until I met you. What I feel for you…” 

Geralt paused, struggling to find the right words to describe the way his day brightened with her mere presence, how his mood improved if he saw her smile.

“I never felt anything like that before,” he let out a sigh, resigned to the fact that he could never explain in simple words what she made him feel without even realizing it. “That scared me. I was scared of what it could mean for the future, but more importantly, I was terrified of losing you. So I convinced myself that running away from you, from what I felt, was the right thing to do to protect you and keep you safe from all the shit I bring along... Now I know I was just protecting myself. You tried to tell me, but I wasn't ready to listen.”

She took a step toward him, looking up at him with wide eyes that sparkled in the weak winter sun. “Geralt, what are you saying?” She needed to hear him say it. After so much time of feelings left unsaid, she needed to hear the words coming out of his mouth so there would be no more conflicts or misunderstandings. She needed to be sure of what he felt.

“I'm saying I'm sorry... I'm saying I love you and I want you at my side, If you still want me too.”

She replied in the most direct way she could without using words. With a quick step, she closed the distance that separated them and joined her lips to Geralt's. As much as she had longed for that kiss, it was a timid one. Her lips barely brushed his, their noses brushing against each other as they leaned in a soft, intimate caress. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the warmth that flooded her body as she felt Geralt reciprocate her kiss immediately. Their lips moved slowly, savoring the moment. It didn't last long, but it was enough to take her breath away.

When they pulled apart, she looked up at Geralt through her eyelashes. She met the amber of his eyes shining in a way she had never seen before. His hand rested on her cheek, calloused fingers caressing the soft skin. It was nothing new, yet the way he was looking at her made her cheeks warm. There was a softness in his eyes that she did not recognize. He admired her as if she were a lost relic, something of priceless value that he couldn't believe he had in front of his eyes.

And in a way, that was true. Even though he had just bared his soul to her. Even though she had kissed him. Even though deep down, he always knew his feelings were reciprocated. Despite everything, Geralt still couldn't believe that a woman as wonderful as her would choose to love him. Of all the people on the continent, of all the places that existed, she loved him and wanted to be by his side. As happy as he was that she did, it didn't feel real. Geralt did not feel worthy of the love of such a good woman, but he was willing to work hard every day of his life so that she would not regret her decision.

Geralt was the one who initiated the second kiss, which was much more confident than the first. His hand remained on her cheek while the other found its place on her waist, holding her close against him. Her lips were soft and warm against his, like a summer morning breeze —just as he had imagined them. When he sucked on her lower lip, she let out the subtlest moan, her hands clinging to his shoulders for support. Geralt became addicted to it instantly, feeling a strange sense of pride at having elicited such a reaction from her. He repeated the action, taking a mental note of the way she reacted to every little movement of his lips. He was desperate to know more about her, to find out the other sounds she made and the various ways her body would respond to his touch, but he restrained himself from deepening the kiss any further. They would have time for that.

“That was...” She tried to speak when they broke apart, her mind clouded with euphoria struggling to find words to describe what that kiss made her feel.

“Late.” Geralt finished for her, resting his forehead on hers.

“I was going to say 'better than I imagined', but 'late' works too.” She let out a chuckle. “So, what now? How do we go on from here?” It was a genuine question she had. She had fantasized many times about this moment —the big confession, the first kiss, the way it would all feel—, but it never got any further. It felt so far away, so impossible, that she had never really spent time thinking beyond happily ever after.

“Well, we can start by getting you out of the cold.” Geralt smiled, finally pulling away from her to start his way back to the fortress. He took her hand and noticed how cold it felt against his own.  “Come on, we need to get you inside so you can warm up.”

She smiled playfully. “Only if you help me.”

I hope you guys liked it! Sorry for the long wait, but it wil probably happen again lol

I have a few ideas for the next part. Without spoiling too much, I think it's time Yen makes an appearance to explain some of the gaps it the timeline when Geralt was away... so, lots of jealousy and angst coming!

BUT I'm not 100% sure of how thing are going to play out, so if you guys have any ideas of things you would like to see in the story (for this next part or future ones!) please drop an ask/message/comment thank youuu ily

[kimsmuse]

yandere rich kid !!

not really a kid, just a spoiled brat.

gender neutral!reader, obsessive behaviour, blackmailing, mentions of drunk driving, implications of sex but no real smut TT. if you want to talk about yanderes my inbox is always open <33

i was thinking about mingi of ateez when i wrote it so you can imagine him as the faceclaim (v v optional)

very rough idea but !! yandere nepo kid who is The Wild Kid, he’s his parents' and siblings' worst nightmare, partying like its his last night, hooking up right and left.

just imagine like early 2010s justin bieber but, um, no hate to him, but better.

this guy isn't evil or cruel or anything, he's just numb, and he's doing every possible thing that comes his way to just feel something, anything he can.

drugs? nothing. alcohol? nothing. nothing makes him feel like the people he sees in the movies, he tries talking to so many people, sleeps with them, but he can't feel it.

and it becomes increasingly uncomfortable for him inside his own body, he's aware of the things that are happening, his parents being disappointed, threatening to write him off their will but he can't seem to stop himself.

club after club, every bouncer knows him, the bartenders know his order, accurate down to the T because they know what's going to happen if they don't.

and enter you. okay, okay, this seems wattpad-ish but its not like love at first sight or anything. because when you and your friends sneak in to the vip section, the least of your worries is the nepo guy.

your friends seem to have an instant attraction to him, thanks to his entertainment news headlines. "famous business tycoon's son gone wild!" and what not. who doesn't want their name attached to a guy like that? everybody who doesn't have an ounce of rationality in their brain!

but he had other plans for tonight, he was spiralling, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to sit here normally and pretend his insides weren't burning. why was there no comfort for him?

he dreaded going home and waking up, looking at the clear disappointed looks of his family. he wishes he was different too, he wants to say to them.

the dance floor clears as the night deepens and soon enough your friends have abandoned their idea of getting laid by him, their patience running out as they grab some other people to take home.

you’re trying to get yourself a cab when he brushes past you, looking back briefly to apologise but when he is a bit ahead, he turns back again and offers you a ride, which you politely refuse, “thanks for asking but i’ll get a cab soon enough,”

okay, then he’ll wait with you! he doesn’t have anything better to do and he’d be going against the way his parents raised him (as if he hasn’t done that enough) if he left you out here alone so late.

after about 20 minutes of standing, looking through various taxi apps, you give up and take him up on his offer, and all the while our rich, spoiled yandere is figuring out what he’s feeling, it was out of basic courtesy that he offered you a lift but now that you’re sitting beside him in his car, he feels like he’s breathing in a new kind of air.

and you swear you didn’t mean to, but maybe its your hormones and the disappointment that all your friends got someone they went home with but you didn’t.. so as soon as you’re in the car, you give him The Look. and while normally the guy would just take it to his backseat, something in him stops him. instead he says, “my place isn’t far,” you nod.

when you regain your senses, it’s too late. it’s the next morning. but thankfully, he was the last person to ask you about what you both were after last night, and the last person to want to “see you again,” so you try your best to get dressed as his sleeping form just lies there peacefully. he’s cute, you admit that.

a few days pass by and you’re thankful that this wasn’t like the other times where his photos and the people he was with would be all over social media, so you went on with your life normally, attending classes, studying and all the jazz.

when once out of thr blue, when you’re working the counter at your part-time, he’s there. he gives you a small smile as you become increasingly uncomfortable. “hey,” you greet him awkwardly.

“i wanted to talk to you… about that night,”

and believe it or not but that’s when your entire life changes. the guy who didn’t even know your name was suddenly there asking you for a bit if your time and the manager obviously obliges, is even eager for it, the publicity that it would get the cafè ….

but yeah, as i was saying, he’s going to come up with a “will you date me?” it doesn’t, matter if he doesn’t know your name, he’ll learn, he’ll learn everything about you, he was willing to, didn’t that count? “please, give me a chance, you won’t regret it, i swear.” and you gulp, okay…

and after that, he’s driving you home from work, home from dates he’s taking you out to, and home from even your college which isn’t even a 5 minute walk from your apartment, and although it’s supposed to feel like “dating” you can’t help but feel a little awkward around him, the fact that he was doting on you like no one ever had in your life and seemed to be perfectly fine with whatever you wanted was just a little off putting.

for the yandere, it’s as if he’s been reborn, it’s as if he found a new purpose at life, he’s so overjoyed at the fact that he was looking for a sign and god actually gave it to him. it was you! he felt everything then, he felt heart beating in his chest, he felt the rain on his face, it was everything h ever wanted.

“this is NOT the guy from the headlines, y/n, this is his twin or something,” your friends were collectively shocked.

even the media was. they wrote articles and articles on if this was just a new stunt or has the resident playboy actually settled down? and they were snooping around your life too, and when the guy went to his parents to help stop that, his parents were delighted to hear that their son wasn’t asking for a new car but instead to help protect a person’s privacy?? who was he??

but they helped, obviously. not without a catch though, they hired a private investigatior to spy on you, were you blackmailing their son? who are you? they weren’t opposed to him finding love, they just wanted to make sure he was safe and not being taken advantage of. when you turn up clean and the investigatior lets them know that you aren’t even in a bit of love with him as much he is, his father is scared.

so he hires the same investigator again, it’s safe to say that money the private investigator made on these two tasks was enough to suffice him for the rest of his years.

and his father decides to pay you a visit, “please, this is the first month since he started middle school that i haven’t been spending on people to keep their mouths shut and to not file cases aainst him, you’ve truly changed him,”

you’re a little uncomfortable again, being this person wasn’t someone you wanted to be, jsut be reduced to beng someone who fixed him, he was nice, yes, but you did not want a relationship right now, let alone a serious-committed one.

then the father takes out his trump card, “…i did not want to do this but,”

he knows where your parents live, your siblings’ workplace.

“so, play along, okay?”

and the worst thing is that, you can't even call the police on one of the richest men in your country.

and as if this problem wasn’t enough, it isn’t even been 3 months and your friends have entirely stopped talking to you. why? well, because, you can’t even have a sleepover without that guy calling you every hour, asking if you ate well, are drinking enough water. and you don't blame them, you wouldn't have liekd it if you were in their position as well.

when you try, (keyword, try) to talk to him about it, he gets super sulky… what do you mean you're bothered by being left alone by your friends? you had him… wasn't that enough?

even at your part-time, it was getting uncomfortable, the times he would just sit in the cafè, working (yes, he even agreed to take over his father's company fot you) and while he obviously paid for his drinks, it was just concerning to the people you knew that he was fliterally following you around, that wasn't healthy.

you have an intuition it won't work, but you decide to give it a try anyway. "hey, we need to talk," you text him. and there’s a response in not even seconds, “what’s wrong?”

“just come over,”

you best believe he’s there in not even 10-15 minutes, and he’s panting too. couldn’t even wait for the lift, his precious darling needed him.

“listen.. i,”

“what?”

“i don’t think this is….working out,”

“what?”

“don’t freeak out-“

“freak out? are you kidding? i.. love you, how isn’t this working out?”

“you’re way too controlling,”

“i’m what? do you know how many peole would kill to be in your place, and people who would want their boyfriends to be like me? nd you say i’m ‘too controlling’?”

“it’s…”

“you have no idea how grateful you should be to me,” you’d never seen him so… angry and it was like you could see the comments being true. “he’s so rude, acts so entitled,” being true.

“don’t look at me like that, i tried my best to appeal to you in a way you should have liked,” he hangs his head down.

“now we do things my way,”

kiss your freedom, part-time, college and apartment bye bye, because you won’t need it anyway, you’ll be his spouse, and there’s no bigger qualification than that. you desperately want to work? be his assistant, he’s getting ready to take over the company soon enough. his parents do see it, the things he’s doing but they can’t interefere, at least he’s staying out of the headlines, that’s all that matters.

[yuri-is-online]

no cause the way you have filled my brain with sho brainrot,,,

baby acting like a mf guard dog for his favourite senpai, constantly wanting their attention 😭

LISTEN

I am so glad I waited to answer this for a teeny bit because I thought I was exaggerating at first because like. It was one voiceline right? WRONG. When you level him up he says "thank you senpai" and when I got his SR and slapped him onto my homescreen he does in fact try to get your attention and ask for help from his senpai. He's supposed to be this brash delinquent but he's shockingly respectful of one very specific senior even if he's just a bit sarcastic about it ugh.

Sho feels like he needs an excuse. He can't just ask to hang out with you because then it looks like you're friends, but if he's asking for a favor then you won't have a reason to say no. The Professors all want you to help out the ghouls so he can say just about anything and you'll jump at it, right? Yeah no that's not the real reason. He wants to have you to himself and if he words it like he needs help he can make excuses as to why you two need to be left alone.

Absolutely uses the fact that he can cook to his advantage. I think one of the main reasons Sho started liking the MC so much was because you supported his cooking. He seemed like he expected to be judged for it so when MC was just hungry and said his food was good? The only person he really seems to have cooked for up to this point is Leo (and Bonnie but she's special) so he wants that praise. And to hear you say he could charge money for it? Oh he was riding that high for ages. I feel like he already wanted to open some sort of cafe but really appreciated the support.

And it gives him the excuse to get you to stay around him longer when he asks for your help. Well he's going to cook anyway and you're hungry, so just stick around. He'll make something and pretend to complain about it but he likes feeding you. Well assuming you don't douse his food in hot sauce, though that won't stop him from making you stuff.

I really like the idea of him competing with the Frostheim ghouls idk why. I think MC should get to be good friends with Kaito and Luca and Sho should get to be a brat about it. Vagastrom and Frostheim already don't get along and he never got his fight with Lucas so yeah. He's super intense about how he's way better at protecting MC than they are, especially with Lucas. Part of it is because he feels guilty for going along with Leo's plan and almost getting you killed, he feels like he needs to prove that he's strong enough to not let that happen again.

Speaking of Leo... I sort of get the sense that Sho hides how much he hangs out with the MC from him. In book 3 Leo makes a bet that would see him getting Sho's food truck if he wins it so I sort of feel like if Leo knew Sho liked the MC he'd be insufferable about it. Honor Roll is stealing his best friend (¬､¬) how lame ugh. And he would try to sabotage it because he would find it funny, or even worse try to make Sho's friendship with you the cost of a bet. I could see Sho having nightmares about that.

Book 3. When Towa and MC go missing. I just know in my heart Sho was loosing his goddamn mind. Again I think he feels sort of guilty for almost getting you killed, and now that you aren't with his dorm you just go missing? Unacceptable where are you? How did Jabberwock fuck this up so badly holy shit. I wanna see him admit that he was worried about MC. I wanna know if he got into any arguments with the Frostheim ghouls while the professors forced them to stay behind.

... i kind of want him to argue with Jin. Like specifically Jin. For no reason other than it would be funny to me personally and like... Jin is the one who interrupted his fight with Luca so I just think it would be funny if they had beef.

I need to level his affinity more. I need to see more chats game please ;-; I love him shomuch.

[qin-qin16]

Chromatic Crew and Murder Time Trio Poly existing at the same time, BUT with two Killers.

The first, one of the few to survive for so long in the tar-like claws of Nightmare, was also the first to meet Murder and Horror. The relationship between them was troubled, something… mediocre – too superficial to be friends, but too deep to be just “work colleagues”. In a way, they managed to understand each other, together in some way in that deep, dark hole that was being under the rule of the Lord of Negativity.

But this Killer had met Color – they had already made promises to escape together even before Murder and Horror came into the picture. They can manage without me, Killer thought while watching Murder pretend to sleep on one of the countless nights they shared. I’ve taught them everything they needed to know, he pondered when he saw Horror hold back the bitter words he wanted to say against Nightmare, knowing that it would only end with his bones being broken.

It’s not like they would notice my absence, I can be selfish for once, was his last thought about them, before finally fleeing far from his past, to start over alongside Color (and later, the other members of the Chromatic Crew). And of course, being safe in the Omega Timeline, Nightmare couldn’t just enter there and reclaim his subordinate/slave. In fact, after thinking for a long time while venting his anger on the other residents of the abandoned castle where they lived, Nightmare realized it was only a matter of time before that Killer escaped from his grasp.

It was obvious, that thing had already met its most faithful liberator; all Nightmare had to do was get a new one and prevent this one from having the same hope as the former. It wasn’t hard to capture another stray Killer, suffering after so many resets – hungry for a moment of silence and painlessness.

Nightmare didn’t even try to hide that this Killer was a different one – it wasn’t hard for Horror and Murder to figure that out either. In a way, it was easier for this Killer (whom I will name Kei to avoid confusion) to adapt, having two other skeletons to guide him, just as the other had done with them. Kei was more curious, less cautious with his actions, almost like an animal playing with the traps set for him.

Horror and Murder, having spent more time together, had no trouble including Kei in their activities – in missions, in the few dinners they shared, in the sleepless nights when one of them remained alert, awake for any imagined intruder. The three were like wild dogs: needing sacrifices to place their trust, whether time, attention, or a vital part of their body – gnawing on each other’s bones as a way to show that they trusted one another.

It would be interesting if, after some time, the three of them planned to escape from Nightmare as well – there was nothing there holding them except themselves. Of course, they didn’t have an Omega Timeline to escape to, and no allies who would help them if they could finally hide. But perhaps living on the run was better than remaining in the clutches of that true devil.

Uhhh idk who would like to see this but i want to tag more of my mutuals so, @spuirrelwiththeletterp @t3m1 @suorgummiis (since you three seemed interested) @what-have-i-unleashed (because i used your mermaid bunny au for this) @triglycercule (no this is not my mtt poly chart) @howlsofbloodhounds (because well… Killers here)

yes i need to justify the tags

[taeyongdoyoung]

mind games

summary: taken away by your ex and best friend, you try to do everything in your power to survive another day... characters: reader, sunoo, sunghoon and heeseung (only mentioned in this part) genre: thriller, dark romance(-ish) warnings: kidnapping, reader is tied up (in a non-sexy way), mentions of fake blood, stalking, spitting, handwriting forgery, hidden cameras, invasion of privacy, blade, overall toxic behaviour, kissing, manipulation, biting, tracking device, trauma author's note: hii guys, the title is inspired by this iconic song and to be honest, i had a really hard time writing it due to some bad experiences in the past so if any of this is triggering to you, please proceed with caution! 🤍 part one & part three word count: 2.6k

You wake up in a unfamiliar place. You feel that your hands and feet and are tied up to a chair. Your surroundings are damp, near black and you can barely make out anything. You wonder if you are alone or if one of your kidnappers is somewhere out there, lurking in the dark.

How on earth did you end up here? You thought you were generally a good person. True, you started dating the guy you told your ex "not to worry about" three months after the break-up but it’s not like you cheated. Then again, bad things had the tendency of happening to good people. So maybe it’s not your fault you’re here. You’re right. It’s Sunghoon and Sunoo’s fault!

Sunghoon, you can understand. He’d always been a jealous, possessive little freak. But Sunoo? To pretend he’s your best friend and work with Sunghoon behind your back? Damnit, you should have investigated suspect number two more seriously before trusting him too much. That part is completely your fault, you admit to yourself.

"You awake?" you hear Sunoo’s adorable voice, which does little to ease your panic.

"Gee, I had a crazy nightmare, Sunnie. Dreamt that my best friend kidnapped me along with my ex. Isn’t that a good story?" you respond sarcastically.

"Listen, it would have been much easier if you came with us willingly," Sunoo pats your cheek gently.

"Willingly? How insane are you, actually?"

"Come oooon, me and Sunghoon-hyung can treat you so much better than Heeseung."

You shake your head in disbelief.

"Just tell me one thing. Were you behind the stalking as well?"

"Which part? Sunghoon took the photos of you and stole some of your clothes. But the creepy dolls covered in blood was all me."

First of all, ew. Second of all, WHAT THE FUCK?

"Where did you get the blood from?" you finally dare to ask.

"It’s fake blood, silly. It looks so real, right?" Sunoo cackles maniacally.

"You need help. Like serious, professional help, Sunoo. I’m only saying that because despite everything I still care about you. If you get me out of here, I’ll make sure you receive the proper treatment you need and-"

"Get you out?" he laughs again. "Why would I do that? We can be such a lovely family of three. Trust me, you’ll never want to leave."

You already want to leave.

Hours later, Sunghoon appears and Sunoo leaves. You suppose kidnappers still have jobs to go to whenever they’re not spending time with their victims. God, this is so wrong.

"How have you been, princess?" Sunghoon asks.

You don’t reward him with an answer and spit in his face. Very dumb of you but oh well.

Sunghoon wipes the spit with his gloved hand and squats in front of you.

"Not a very enthusiastic welcome, I see. Don’t worry, I’ll be patient. You’ll get used to us in no time."

"I’m not getting used to anything. Let me the fuck go!"

"Hmm, I don’t think so," Sunghoon wraps his arms around your legs like a fucking snake. He may not have bitten you but you feel his poison spreading further down your body. What if you’re meant to suffocate here?

"It’s only a matter of time before Heeseung calls the cops and they find me," you bluff. You can only hope Heeseung will come for you.

"He probably won’t. See, I wrote him a little letter. You remember how good I am at copying your handwriting? Well, I never thought it’d come in…well, pun-intended but handy. In the letter I tell Heeseung that you’re still in love with me so you’re leaving him and ran away with me. I’m so creative, aren’t I?"

"You’re sick in the head! Heeseung’s never gonna buy that!" you scream and you pray you’re right.

"Wanna check? I put hidden cameras at your place, if Heeseung was there, we can see his reaction."

God, this is worse than you thought. You really should have contacted the police earlier. Helpful or not, it would have been something.

And indeed, Sunghoon shows you a video of Heeseung opening said letter, reading it and then sighing deeply. Alas, he doesn't look in a huge hurry to find you. Or maybe, he's just that good of an actor...

"What are you going to do to me?" you ask Sunghoon, horrified now that your hope of Heeseung finding you diminishes by the hour.

"Nothing," Sunghoon replies simply. "I just wanna be with you. Away from him." The him in question is Heeseung, you deduce. "Forever."

The word forever never tasted so bitter.

"What about Sunoo? Why is he helping you?"

"I think he has a little crush on me. So I'm using him," Sunghoon shrugs, as if it's the simplest answer in the world.

First of all, a little crush is definitely an understatement. No one helps his best friend's ex kidnap his best friend over a little crush. Sunoo's feelings are reaching a dangerous magnitude. You don't dare imagine how far he'd be willing to go for Sunghoon's sake. And second of all, the fact that Sunghoon's using Sunoo and doesn't reciprocate his feelings might be helpful for you in the future. So, you tuck that information safely into your mind for later.

But until then, you gotta play the game well enough in order to survive. You never know when Sunghoon or Sunoo might snap and feel like killing you. Psychopaths like that are totally unpredictable. So, you make it your mission to smoothly pretend you have zero plans of escaping.

"Poor Sunoo," you sigh, targeting Sunghoon's jealousy issues. "And here I thought he had a crush on me and wants to share me with you."

"As beautiful as you are, not everyone on this plaent is madly in love with you, princess," Sunghoon laughs, suddenly amused by your words. "And if it's anyone doing the sharing, it'd be me. But I don't share."

He smirks darkly and kisses you. His lips are venomous poison. You kiss him back even though every bone in your body is telling you no. But after being so foolish before, you have to be clever enough now. Clever enough to trick him. Clever enough to live.

Sunghoon wraps his hands around the back of your neck, kissing you more deeply. Your tongue battles against his desperately, trying to convey every bit of your hatred and make him mistake it for love. He's laughing against your lips. But you're determined to make sure you have the last laugh.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sunghoon chuckles in disbelief you kissed him back.

Yes! Y/N: 1. Sunghoon: 0.

"You taste just as I remember. Coffee."

"Your favourite taste," Sunghoon nods thoughtfully.

You don't dare tell him that lately, you like ramen more...

"You should be nice to Sunoo," you advise Sunghoon, even though it won't help you. Not immediately, anyway. "You never know when he might turn against you."

"He won't. But I'm nice enough. Or else he wouldn't have helped me in the first place."

"When did you two become so close anyway?"

"Right after you broke up with me. He would constantly call me and meet up in secret. He'd keep me posted on how you were doing. Show me pictures and stuff. He said that just because you and I were no longer together didn't mean that he couldn't be friends with me."

That sly little fox. And here you were, mistaking Sunoo for your best friend. Then again, you are no saint, either, considering you moved on with Heeseung so quickly. But after the way Sunghoon had treated you, it was only natural you were drawn by Heeseung's warmth.

"Interesting. How does he put up with your mint choco-hating ass?" you tease Sunghoon.

"He's strangely forgiving in that respect," Sunghoon responds.

You smile fondly, recalling all your mint choco dates with your best friend. You will never forgive him.

A while later, Sunoo returns, immediately brightening up the room with his presence. But now you know it's all a façade. The real him is not the sun, but the darkest sky.

"Heyyy, hyung, missed me?" he greets Sunghoon.

"So much, sunshine," Sunghoon ruffles Sunoo's hair, the action so smooth and affectionate it gives you goosebumps. You aspire to be such a talented actress.

"Did noona give you trouble?" Sunoo asks teasingly.

"Not really, she's quite docile now," Sunghoon shrugs, not suspecting anything.

"I'm right here, you know?" you roll your eyes.

"Aww, Y/Nnie, don't be jealous, it's not a good quality," Sunoo messes with you.

Pfft. If there's anyone guilty of jealousy in this room, it's definitely not you.

"As much as I hate to leave you two angels all alone, I have business to attend to," Sunghoon announces. "Take care of her, yeah?"

"Will do!" Sunoo promises excitedly.

Once alone with Sunoo, you set your sinister plan in motion.

"Sunnie, you do realize Sunghoon's only using you, right? He told me so himself. He'll never love you. He's incapable of loving anyone but himself."

"Why would I believe you?" Sunoo snickers. "You'd say anything to get me to untie you."

"Screw that, you know I like things like that," you joke. Though you prefer things like that in a safe, consensual environment, it doesn't hurt to try misleading Sunoo.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Sunoo squeezes your cheeks affectionately.

You sigh deeply. Okay, you're gonna have to try harder.

"Haven't you asked yourself why Sunghoon's always wearing gloves? So he can leave no fingerprints! Meanwhile, you're spreading your DNA all over the crime scene."

"This isn't a crime scene, we're just making a home for ourselves!" Sunoo shouts in denial. "And...h-hyung likes gloves, they're a fashion statement. They look hot on him!"

"When the police finds us, Sunghoon won't be here and he'll make you take the fall for it," you hypothesize

"What do you mean when?" Sunoo is starting to panic a little now. "They won't find us. No one knows where we are. Right?"

You smile sinisterly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

A while later, Sunoo leaves again and you remain alone with Sunghoon. Your worst nightmare.

"Hi, princess," he kisses you, as if what you two have is completely normal. As if it's okay. You kiss him back, as if you mean it. As if you love him back. "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, splendid. My favourite place in the world," you chuckle bitterly.

"Ever the spoiled brat, I see. At least I'm giving you food and water, no?"

"Ah, yes, I'm living the dream," you keep responding sarcastically. But nothing too bad, you're still afraid he might snap. Also, you haven't mentioned Heeseung since you got here. You figured it would just be poking the bear or something. So, you play nice. Or as nice as you can be, given the circumstances.

"You know, this could be so much easier if you just cooperated. I could even untie you someday. We could go to Paris, I know how much you've wanted to go there. We could go back to the way we used to be. Just us two."

"What about Sunoo?"

"Well, he can tag along, I don't mind."

"What, like Bonnie and Clyde and their pet or some shit?" Except, you'd be the fucking pet 'cause you're no criminal.

"Yeah, that sounds nice, don't you think?"

It does sound nice. But you'll never agree to this. Even if Sunghoon was the last man on Earth, you still wouldn't go with him anywhere willingly. He lost not only your trust but your heart. And he's never getting it back. But you pretend anyways.

"Yeah, that sounds amazing," you lie through your teeth. "Maybe we'll get there one day."

"You can learn to love me again," Sunghoon says it not as a question but as a statement. And with such conviction it almost makes you sad. Almost.

"I can," you repeat the lie as if hypnotized. But he can't. Because this isn't love. It's obsession, dark and twisted, and you would do anything in your power to escape its deadly grasp.

Sunghoon kisses you and you bite his lips angrily in the process. He mistakes it for passion. Good. Let him be the fool. You've been playing that role yourself for too long. It's his turn now.

Hours melt into days. You know that the police requires at least 48 hours to start looking for a missing person so you try to be patient when waiting. But patience has a limit and Sunghoon is getting on your nerves more and more with every second. Sunoo, as well, with him pretending he's the sweetest bean ever but actually the devil in disguise. You just wish you could be found and rescued already. You desperately wish you could be back in the safety of Heeseung's arms. But you know it won't be that easy.

Throughout your stay here, you try your best to ensure you'll make it out alive. Sunghoon or Sunoo only untie to let you take care of your natural needs and don't take any chances so there is no opportunity for you to investigate where exactly you're located, let alone try to escape. But that's besides the point. You have a plan. And you just hope it doesn't go to shit.

"Just let me go, Sunoo, if you don't, you'll regret it, I promise you," you keep pleading with him gently.

"Why would I regret it?" Sunoo traces his blade alongside your neck. Damn, he's addicted to that thing.

"I can't tell you," you smile cruelly.

"If you don't tell me, I'll hurt you," he threatens you vaguely.

"You already did," mentally you mean. "But if you actually use that blade on me, Sunghoon won't be very happy with you. Do you want to make him angry?"

Sunoo shakes and takes a step back, dropping the blade. He's been creeping you out and yet, still...such a sweet child. God, you're conflicted.

On the fifth day, the miracle happens. Storming inside is a whole crew of cops, whom you previously distrusted (okay, lesson learned) and Heeseung comes along with them. You are quickly untied and a medic checks for any injuries (there aren't any physical ones, other than the mental trauma that comes with being kidnapped and stalked by your ex and former best friend).

How were you found so fast, one may ask? Well, you were slightly wary of Sunoo. Heeseung, you never doubted. So, the day before you waited awake for Sunghoon to arrive, you asked Heeseung to help you install a tracking device inside your skin. Your gut feeling was telling you that if something bad were to happen to you, your phone would be destroyed. A small chip, however, would be difficult to notice. The device got slightly damaged in the process of being kidnapped, so it was difficult for the police and Heeseung to catch a signal rightaway. Which is why it took five days. But still, you consider yourself somewhat lucky. Some people remain kidnapped for years...Others are never found.

Regrettably, Sunghoon is nowhere to be located. That bastard. They apprehend Sunoo quickly and he claims that he did it all by himself. Fucking idiot, why is he so loyal to Sunghoon? You insist that he worked together with your ex but the cops say that you might be so traumatized you're hallucinating another person. Why is that, you wonder? Oh, wait. 'Cause there are no fucking fingerprints of Sunghoon's, of course. Those stupid gloves of his may be the smartest thing he's ever done.

You know that you'll have to work harder to make sure Sunghoon is detained as soon as possible. You know that you'll somehow have to convince Sunoo to testify against Sunghoon. You know that your creepy ex won't give you up so easily. You know that you'll have to be smarter, more resilient and perhaps more careful who you trust.

Right now, your mind is your biggest weapon to play this sick game. But it doesn't end here. This is just the beginning.

To be continued...

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Angst, jealousy, fwb that's obviously something more but these two are idiots. Mutual pining, enemies to... ❤️ 18+ blog

My requests will be closed just for a little bit while I get my groove back with writing ❤️ writers' block was a nightmare 🥺

1 2

Continuation of enemies to lovers/hate fucking series.

❤️

There's a little spot under the bleachers that secretly used to be your favourite place in the whole world.

It's still your favourite place even if Eddie wasn't around to share it with. The two of you had been avoiding each other since that stupid argument over a week ago.

Was it a breakup? No. That was stupid. "This doesn't mean anything, so why don't we just stop all of this bullshit" Eddie had snapped, and you pretended that it didn't hurt your heart, leaving your very secretive fantasies as wishful thinking.

So you agreed and yelled, "Fine!" and it was fine. You didn't care about Eddie Munson. The more you pretended, the easier it was to just ignore these other feelings, the feelings that had you up late at night and worrying about what the hell was going on.

It was stupid, though, because the two of you obviously hated each other; these feelings you had were nothing; they'd go away.

So why couldn't you stop thinking about him? This was ridiculous, bad enough the two of you had that moment a few weeks ago. A moment you couldn't stop thinking about but now this?

It was easier when he was just someone who was hot as hell and who you hated, yet had incredible sex with.

Now everything was just complicated.

❤️

It was one of those parties that Jason would throw in the middle of the school year, normally you wouldn't even dream of going to these things without your friends, but you had a point to prove.

Eddie would be there and you had put on your best outfit and watched as his jaw dropped when you made your way past him, he was nursing a beer and scouring for the usual clientele who wanted weed to go with their drinks.

Some girl was hanging around Eddie and making eyes at him, not like you cared. Even if there was a clench in your heart at the sight of Eddie flirting back, that soon went away when you were asked to dance by Brad, one of Jason's friends.

He wasn't really your type but you saw the way Eddie's eyes narrowed when Brad was talking to you. You walk past Eddie and stop just for a second, smirking at him.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous, Eddie?" you tease him and he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"You think what you want princess" he nods as Lauren or Laura or whatever her name is scowls at Eddie who's no longer paying her attention.

"Well if you don't care then I'll take Brad up on his offer, have a nice time with Laurie" you shrug nonchalant.

"Maybe I will" he turns away from you and you storm away from him. Ugh Jackass.

If there's an ache in your heart when you leave then you do your best to ignore it.

❤️

It was freezing, you were not in the mood to deal with Jason and his stupid comments about your dance with Brad, you were slightly tipsy and craving something... craving Eddie to be here with you but he was no doubt too busy with Miss giggles.

"Brad end up being a dud sweetheart?" As if by magic, Eddie is there beside you and lighting up a cigarette as he watches your reaction.

"He talked about football for over ten minutes, I didn't even see him take a breath and was seriously beginning to worry for him. I don't know why you care. Isn't Lucy enough attention for you?" there's that stupid smirk on his face again, but then he turns serious.

"Stop fucking around princess. You don't want Brad and I don't want Lauren, he emphasises, look let's both cut the bullshit yeah?" his hands caress your hips and your stubborn resolve to ignore him begins to soften.

"She was all over you. She's pretty and more your type than I am. Why don't you want her?" you peer up at him curiously.

"She's not my type. Funnily enough, it's you who drives me absolutely crazy and who I can't stop thinking about. Shit, I swear I can't stand you sometimes but then you uh...you look at me like you are now and I can't remember what it is that drives me so crazy"

Well damn. "I thought you wanted this thing between us to end?" you point out and he shakes his head. His big brown eyes are incredibly distracting.

"No, no I didn't, that's why I'm here to make things right" he murmurs softly and he closes the distance between you and kisses you. The second his lips meet yours it's the strangest feeling, it's like you've found where you belong.

Here under a moon lit sky, kissing Eddie Munson. He pulls away and you tentatively rest your head on his chest.

"What are we? What is this, Eddie? It was only meant to be hate sex, just fooling around," you ask him as his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. It's absolutely not that anymore.

"I don't know, princess", he answers honestly, as the two of you just hold each other. You don't know either but it's clear you don't want whatever this is to end.

❤️

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying I'm not rich?

Wait stop hear me out

So the thing is, my father is wealthy. Or at least he made enough money to have two Ferraris and a boat, which to me are the most useless things because why would u spend that money on this when u could spend it on food or commodities but details

When I was young, any time I asked for money or something, he'd make a huge deal about it. He'd make me feel awful, so awful that I just stopped asking for anything at all, starting from my teenage years to my college years, and I survived entire months, living alone during college, with 50 dollars to get by. For groceries and bills. And yes, he was nice enough to pay for my rent (170 dollars back then) but every time I'd be the worst piece of garbage for asking him. Worst thing was, I wanted a job, but he had this delusion that any sort of job that would take me, basically customer service, i wanted was "underneath my daughter" so he legit didn't let me and he'd go to big, big hoops to not allow me to do so

I'd never buy clothes or other necessities: I spent my teenage years just putting together what I got from relatives to make some savings, and I'd survive on that. He'd go splendid on my birthday and christmas, I guess, he'd buy me things, but I came to dread those days because the thought of him spending money -and how he reacted to it- always sent me into a blind panic so yes even though I got nice gifts I was never happy about it and I really really don't like my birthday

So I was always the girl who had two Ferraris to my friends, and they'd always get mad at me when I honestly told them "actually Im not rich" or "I'm sorry I'd rather go to the cheaper place" - because I legit thought i wasn't - and called me an asshole. But This was my father's money and I lived with him, but I rarely saw an actual dollar, everything I bought was with my savings and I spent years and years accumulating it, hoarding it. So I lived in this fancy house, but I'd wear 3 dollar pants and worn shoes because that's what I could afford with my money.

Note that even paying my school fees was a nightmare to me, because my father openly said I was a parasite and screamed at me but whATEVER

So um, my friends always said i was an ass for saying I didn't have any money, when my father was swimming in it. But when u survive on the allowance ur aunt gave u for an entire month, u really don't feel like it? and I always always felt so bad about it, because it felt like they were right and I was an asshole for pretending I don't have money. Except I didn't. I really didn't. That was all his, not mine, and while he did pay school and college flat rent, he was always making sure I knew what a burden I was for it. So yes, I'd still say I was actually not rich - even though I was lucky enough to have someone pay for me.

Anyway yeah AITA for saying I'm not rich? Tbh I really don't know if I can consider myself that, when it's not mine and I've never actually used it, it doesn't feel like it, but some tell me that's my privilege and I guess that could be right

Note: I am a grown adult now, I live on my own, pay my own things and have my job. And he's happy that he doesn't have to pay for me anymore, is baffled by my relationship with money (I don't like spending it ahah), not so much about me not living with him though. (The weird thing is he wants me with him, but not to take care of me which, honestly, valid) I do have a better relationship with him, but we never talk money because I live on minimum wage - ironically enough in costumer service - and he doesn't, so to me spending 60 on groceries is a lot (150 bills destroy me honestly, so winter is a joy) and he always, always mocks me for it. It's weird how he goes around with a Rolex and snuffs me for wearing Primark pants and then people constantly just... Think I have money at all and get mad at me when I say I don't

Anyway yeah AITA for saying I'm not rich? Tbh I really don't know if I can consider myself that if it's not mine, if I've never actually used it, it doesn't feel like it, but some tell me that's my privilege and I guess that could be right

[kasagia]

Bruises and scars

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem! tidemaker! reader Summary: Kaz Brekker believed he was too broken and bruised to ever count on you reciprocating his childish crush. You were a powerful Grisha, someone who wouldn't be content to be in a relationship with the human shell that he was. That's why he gives you the cold shoulder, that's why he avoids you like the water you wield so well, that's why he tried to drive you away after the day you confessed your feelings to him. Kaz Brekker couldn't love anyone. It would not be beneficial to either side. But Kaz Rietveld rises from the dead, reminding him of what it's like to feel unconditional, blind love. And he won't give up. Not until he gets his girl back... isn't it too late for that, though? Warning(s): Kaz and his trauma; violence; he's afraid of his feelings but loves the reader; generally Kazzle misses the reader; angst with fluff; I'm a sucker for happy endings, but the boy suffered WITHOUT HIS INVESTMENT; mentions of de@th and bl00d Word count: 7,4k

Counting days, counting days since my love up and got lost on me

"You're sending Jesper to do your dirty work for you? I didn't know you were afraid to talk to one of your own crows." you stormed into his office without even bothering to knock. Kaz swallowed. He really should have been better prepared for this conversation. After all, he knew you wouldn't give up so easily. "What is this?" you asked, slamming the wad of paper onto his desk.

"I thought you could read. This is your next job." he replied calmly, not looking up from the papers in his hand.

"In some snobbish fucking king's palace? Are you kidding me?"

"Nikolai isn't that bad. You'll see when you get there."

"And what makes you think that I will voluntarily leave Ketterdam, the club, my friends, and the Crows for two bloody years, Kaz?" for the first time since you walked into his office, he looked up from his papers, fixing you with a cool, impassive gaze.

"That I'm your boss, and you have to obey me. You needed a reminder, judging by the tone of voice you use when you speak to me."

"Was it because of what I said to you when I almost..."

"No!" he growled at you, stopping you from finishing your sentence. That day had already joined his nightmares anyway. He didn't have to constantly recall your almost-death. "It has nothing to do with it." he said, hoping that would put an end to your conversation and went back to writing down the numbers.

"Do not lie to me. I know when you do it, Kaz. You got scared because I said I love…"

"You can go and get ready, Y/N." he said without looking up from the paper he was holding. He had never felt her gaze so hot and intense on him before. They always glanced furtively at each other, discreetly indulging in the silly fantasy of loving each other.

Like they could ever afford to live a normal life. As if he could ever love you properly—the way you deserved.

You stared at him intently, trying to find any trace of emotion in him, any evidence that he didn't really want to send you away from Ketterdam, that he was only doing it because Dirtyhands was afraid of the growing feeling between you two.

"I can hold on like this, Kaz." your soft whisper cut through him, making him shiver. He could bear your screams, your anger, your madness, but the tenderness, the vulnerability you showed only around him… was much more dangerous to the cold Barrel Bastard. "I can go and return to you like nothing happened. I can stay near you and pretend I don't feel anything towards you. I can stop myself from wishing for your slightest touch. I can hide my true emotions around you and other people, just like I have done before… but please just prove to me that it's all worth it. That you can slowly take off pieces of your armour and let me see and be with the real you. Not the Brekker's mask you wore every time we were on Ketterdam's street. Not the Dirtyhands' cruel version of yourself that you created to survive in this town. Not the Bastard from the Barrel, who has so much power in his hands to take down his every enemy. Just the real you, Kaz. The genius-mind boss who cares about his people, not only the kruge. The man who loves his friends more than anything on this earth. The man who risked his own life and saved me from death's arms more times than I could count. Please… just give me this little piece of hope." he tried hard not to raise his gaze to meet your captivating, imploring irises that could touch Brekker's heart.

He knew that the moment he looked at your face, he would doom you both by giving in to this burning desire to be with you.

But he couldn't.

He had to keep you away from him.

"You must be foolish or delusional to think like that. I'm the Bastard from the Barrel. And I care about my crows, because they are good investments. Nothing more and nothing less, Y/L/N."

"Is this everything that we are? What am I to you? An investment?"

Kaz's mouth went dry as he felt the waters rising around him, when a familiar feeling of panic began to seep through his practised mask. He looked away, not wanting you to read his true emotions. Not wanting you to see how much he wanted to confess his true feelings to you.

No. You're my moon, my sun that illuminates me in my darkness. The reason why I'm even bothering to learn how to touch people without going under the water again. You give me hope and peace every time you're close to me. You're my greatest power and weakness. The only one in this bloody world who can change my plans. The only one I care about in the mornings, afternoons, nights, and midnights. I can't drink, eat, think, sleep, or work without thinking about you. You have the power over me. And that's terrified me.

He desperately wanted to give in to his desire.

But he couldn't.

He was too bruised and broken for you.

"Then I have my answer, Mr. Brekker." you broke the long, tense silence between you two. Kaz was too terrified to shift his gaze from the papers on his desk to the only woman who could easily crack the wall around his cold, almost dead heart with one of your smiles towards him. Too afraid to watch the tender expression on your face turn into a cold detachment, just like your tone of voice. "Sorry for taking up your precious time, boss. But I would rather be the foolish girl who falls in love too easily for her own good than a powerful man who doesn't want to feel anything. Nobody will sit around the table and tell a story about a man who loves only his kruge. No matter how great he was." your disappointed whisper lingered in his office long after you left.

He sat dazed in his chair until the candle stub burned out completely, leaving him alone in the darkness of his office. He stood up, lit a new candle, and watched the flame. He couldn't focus on anything other than replaying your conversation.

Rietveld's voice echoed in Brekker's head, somehow getting through his wall, mocking powerful Dirtyhands.

Coward.

And every breath that I’ve been taking since you left feels like a waste on me

"No way!" Jesper's loudspeaker scream snapped Kaz out of his thoughts. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand, and got up from the desk.

He has done nothing since that fateful conversation. Absolutely nothing. He limited himself to staring blankly at the wall as his thoughts of Y/N effectively took complete control of him. He needed a distraction. Jesper's screams outside his office were perfect.

Without his cane, he walked to the door, eavesdropping on what was going on outside his office.

"Find another idiot to tell him. Or better yet, grab some suicide guy from the roof. If he wants to die anyway, he might as well act as a messenger for their one last time before Kaz rips their head off. SHIT!" the sharpshooter screamed in panic, nearly losing his balance as the door he was partially leaning against was opened by his rather worried boss. "Kaz, the fuck, since when are you sneaking around like that?!"

"Why exactly would I want to have ripped someone's heads off, Jesper?" he ignored his comment, eager to find out what they were hiding from him as soon as possible.

Maybe that would effectively occupy his head, so he could stop thinking about the tidemaker for a while. Unfortunately, neither of the two were in a hurry to answer his question.

"You know, there's always an occasion. Theft, insult, threat, frown, bad day, wedding, christening…" Jesper shut up, seeing that his attempts at a joke only infuriated an already irritated Kaz.

"Y/N is gone." Kaz unconsciously held his breath, feeling the whole world freeze around him for a moment, until anger and panic took hold of him.

"What? Did someone kidnap her? How did you look after her?!" he growled furiously, walking back to the office and limping towards his cane. His crows followed hesitantly, watching him struggle as he tried to put on his cloak in his haste.

"She runaway. I lost track of her around the harbour." a new revelation made Kaz freeze again. He stared blankly into the space between Jesper and Inej, turning his cane's crow head in his hand.

He should have anticipated that too. Had a backup plan. But he didn't. He's been acting strangely lately. He didn't recognize himself. But after all, that was what he had wanted all along - to stay away from Y/N. So why had her disappearance made him feel so much worse?

"Kaz? Should we send some people to…"

"No need, Inej. Go back to work. You too, Jesper." the gambler looked like he wanted to argue with him, but the Wraith, seeing their friend's strange behavior, grabbed his hand, and they obediently walked away from their boss.

Kaz leaned against the desk, dullly staring at the closed door.

It was supposed to be better that way. Neither you nor he will ever meet again. You won't exchange those longing glances again. You won't act like a couple of teenagers in love, and no one will ever attack or harm you to get to him again or to threaten him. Nobody was going to get hurt.

So why did he feel like he was going back under the water?

I’ve been holding on to hope That you’ll come back when you can find some peace Cause every word that I’ve heard spoken since you left feels like an hollow street

One week, two days, 10 hours, 34 minutes and 29 seconds. That's how long it's been since he last saw your face.

He was secretly hoping you'd come back to him and the crows. Fuck the crows, he just wanted you to walk through that damned door again and start arguing with him, shouting at him, cursing his name at all the saints you knew, so he could hear your voice again.

He missed you. More than he thought he would.

Irritatingly, everything around him reminded him of you.

Especially your empty seat during Crow's meetings. No one dared to occupy it, as if every one of the gathered was waiting for you to come through that door (or window) again with a malicious, characteristic smirk on your face, mumbling some insincere apology for being late.

It never happened. Though Inej prayed to her saints every day for your return. Just like the others. Although each of them experienced your departure differently. Jes stared often at the places you once occupied, imagining you were still there. Nina found herself often making too many waffles (of course, accidentally making exactly the few you were used to eating). Wylan often creates his bombs and other things in your favourite colours.

But Kaz probably took your absence the worst of them all.

If he had slept little before, fearing that nightmares about Jordie would haunt him, now he hardly slept at all. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face. He heard your laugh. He smelled your perfume. He felt cursed. Cursed by you the moment your eyes looked at him full of sadness, anger, and disappointment... full of pain.

He thought that if you disappeared from his sight, he would forget about you and go back to normal. But your leaving only made him think of you more often and longer. He sat behind his desk for hours, staring blankly at the papers in front of him. Spread out plans, bills, and maps; it all stopped making sense to him. It stopped coming together, creating a perfect plan in his head.

All he could think about was you.

And Rietveld's voice, instead of being silenced and buried alive in his cold heart with your disappearance, only broke through his hard surface more and more often with the passing days without you by his side. And he wasn't holding back from taunting Dirtyhands at all.

The great Kaz Brekker fell victim to one of his own plans.

There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under

Even Ketterdam has felt your absence.

This time of year, it usually warms up enough for people to shed their heavy winter coats. However, it was the middle of spring, and a cool, icy wind still blew through the streets, bringing occasional, small snowfalls that melted on the street, creating mud.

Kaz had never despised the city he lived in more. Even it laughed in his face at his stupidity, reminding him that it was his fault that the only spark of joy and bewitchingness in this damned city had gone.

He shuddered as a child shoved past him, running happily to the ship that had come into harbour and thrown itself into its father's waiting arms. Brekker began to take rapid, panicked breaths. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall of one of the buildings, trying to imagine something other than Jordie.

His haphephobia got worse.

Earlier, he could bear the fleeting touch of strangers, such as being brushed up against him in a crowd. It was no problem for him to touch his crows for a few minutes (especially you and your comfortable hugs, holding your hand, or just feeling your warm skin under his bare fingertips).

But now even the slightest contact with a stranger brought him immediately under the water. And the tiny touch from his crows raised the waves he had to calm in the privacy of his office.

He was rolling down. He knew it well. But he saw it as his personal punishment for hurting your feelings in a brutal way instead of gently cutting you off. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt so much.

Kaz knew he was fooling himself. He would suffer anyway. He let you go too deep under his skin, penetrate his essence, and know his soul too well to just give up on you, and forget about you.

And what terrified him most was that, given the choice, he would let you in again. Even knowing he would be devastated after letting you go.

But it was better for you. You deserved something better than this life you would live with him.

And that one thought kept him sane. That he did it for your own good, that wherever you are now, he's sure you're better off than you were in Ketterdam.

Which didn't stop him from checking every ship that came into port in the sick hope of seeing your angelic face.

He just had to get over his grief. He did the same with Jordie.

The only difference was that he didn't dream of holding his brother back in his arms like he dreamed of you.

Maybe I, maybe I’m just being blinded By the brighter side Of what we had because it’s over Well there must be something in the tide

Kaz was on your bed, reading one of your books you accidentally left behind. It was all he could do lately. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd left that room for anything other than food and a change of clothes. He missed you. And he had no idea what he should do.

He inhaled your faint scent on the pillows.

In some strange way (probably because of your ability to control the water), you always smelled of the sea, even when you weren't near the harbour. Kaz hated water and hated the salty sea smell that hit him whenever he passed near the harbour. It reminded him of Jordie. But inexplicably, the smell of the sea on you brought him comfort, safety... peace.

Now it was a reminder of something else—how he let you slip through his fingers. In fact, he pushed you away from himself.

He shook his head, trying not to think about you. However, the world was always against him and never made things easy for him. The fact that the dried flower had fallen out of the book onto his chest was proof of that.

With trembling hands, he set the book aside and reached for the flower, afraid he would ruin it. However, the need to see if his eyes were deceiving him was greater than the fear of spoiling such a precious thing.

He remembered that flower. He put it in your hair himself.

"Just the two of us in a field of flowers? If I didn't know you better, I'd think it was a date, boss." he rolled his eyes as you giggled at his reaction.

"Stop it. Or they'll notice us." he muttered, trying to ignore the cool wind that somehow made its way through the high grass. He wrapped his cloak around him, enviously noting that the girl next to him didn't seem to feel that cold. He internally slapped himself for wanting to share his cloak with her.

"I highly doubt they'd want to look for us in that thicket of grass. Besides, usually when a woman is giggling at a place and situation like this, stealing some noblewoman's jewels is the last thing on her mind, Kaz. The same applies to her potential partner."

"As if I heard Jesper." he sighed, focusing on the nobles in front of them. The plan was for Jesper to distract them while he and Y/N collected what they had come for. Simple and fast, if his childish desire to be paired with Y/N did not overwhelm his senses. She distracted him more than he could afford.

"You and Jes also had a secret meeting among the wildflowers? Now, I'm jealous."

"Jes?" he asked, turning his surprised gaze on her.

"Yes, do you mind?"

"You've known him for a week." he remarked dryly.

"Yes, and what?"

"It took you two months to start calling me by my first name, let alone a nickname."

"Just because you preferred to call me tidemaker instead of using my name."

"To be honest, it might have slipped my mind then." he muttered under his breath, not realising she heard him.

"You forgot my fucking name?! Kaz Brekker you are the most ignorant person I've ever seen." Kaz knew from the anger in her eyes that only his haphephobia kept him from getting his ass kicked by Y/N.

"Well, now I remember." he tried to defend himself.

"I don't care, Brekker. Now you can even call me the fucking Easter Bunny and I won't answer you anyway."

"Don't be a child, Y/N. Y/N?" Kaz sighed in frustration when he got no response from you.

He had to come up with something; he knew this name thing wouldn't be resolved until he appeased you properly. And he didn't have time to indulge in your sulks. You had to rob these people. (It's not like his heart ached when you were mad at him.)

Fortunately, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that might help him. Your favourite flower, growing at his fingertips. He plucked a plant and put it behind your ear without thinking. You flinched at the sudden touch, staring at him in shock as the material of his gloves brushed your cheek as he pulled his hand away.

"Maybe I forgot your name then, but now I remember and know a lot more about you than just a stupid name."

"But how… how do you know I like y/f/f?" you asked in shock, never in your wildest dreams imagining that Kaz Brekker would bother with something like your favorite flower.

"You are my tidemaker. My most important investment. It's logical that I'll know you inside out."

"Should I be afraid or appreciate this unsettling but sweet effort?"

"You should know by now that nothing I do is sweet."

"Of course, big, terrible, Dirtyhands." you replied with a small smirk, similar to the one that kept Kaz from your sight.

To her, he could be more than Kaz Brekker. He could be Kaz Rietveld. And it terrified him more than the urge to reach out his hand again and fix her windblown hair.

The mastermind has been deceived by his own heart.

I’ve been told, I’ve been told to get you off my mind But I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind Oh my Lord, oh my Lord, I need you by my side

"Zenik. Follow me." he muttered as he finally found the woman at the bar. He headed for his office without looking back, knowing full well that she would do as she was told this time.

"Yes, Kaz?"

"You are contacting Y/N." it wasn't a question. He knew it the moment Nina sent you her first letter a month ago.

He himself tried to send you his letter a week ago. It came back unopened, and the delivery man said no such person lives at this address. A lie he recognised without even knowing that Nina and you were still writing to each other.

"I am." she replied coolly. Kaz, seeing that he did not want to voluntarily cooperate, sighed and sat down in his chair. His leg was starting to hurt more and more often - another thing that went bad with you leaving.

"How is she?"

"Happy. Relatively. She is tormented by nightmares and unwanted thoughts about you." if Nina wanted to make him feel guilty, she did it brilliantly.

He already felt terrible without her judging eyes and dry answers. She must have seen the shadows under his eyes, as he did in his mirror. He had no right to pity himself. He knew it well. That's why he put up with Nina's attitude, in his stupid desire to know how you were doing.

"So… is she better off than here?"

"No. But that's not your problem anymore."

"Did she find someone?" he asked hesitantly, afraid of an affirmative answer.

"Possibly, things are evolving."

Kaz felt the world stop around him for a moment. The idea of someone else watching how you play with water and create ice sculptures, someone listening to your beautiful voice and making you laugh, someone capable of holding you and kissing you, made him sick. A sick sense of jealousy that Kaz only experienced when he saw the wealth of others.

A rash desire to come for you overtook him. He had to have you back. Before you fall in love with someone other than him.

"Do you think if we…"

"No, Kaz." Nina cut him off before he could ask a question. "You wanted to get rid of her, so hold on to your fucking decision. You hurt her, and you knew damn well you would, by ordering her to return to Ravka. Honestly, Kaz, did you think about how it would impact her? How she would feel? If you wanna break her heart again, go on. Chase her. Let's see if she forgives you also this time."

"Then what should I do?" he asked, and the desperation and hopelessness of his tone terrified both him and the woman standing in front of his desk. Nobody had ever seen him like this. Even you. And now he was ready to open up to anyone just to have you by his side again.

"Forget about her. After all, that's what you wanted, right?" he did not answer.

She was right. He wanted to get rid of you. Now he was paying the price, and he had no right to ask you to ease his pain and return to the Kettedram. Return to him. Which doesn't mean that his stupid heart will just let him forget about you. He's learned that over the months without you. And he cursed all the saints that he didn't know it until he gave you the cold shoulder.

Kaz no longer had the right to your affection. He had to accept it. He had to accept that he had given up his chance to love you. That now you had every right to go and love someone else. Even if the very idea drove him crazy and desperate.

He must have forgotten about you. For the sake of all of you.

But Nina's slamming of his office door only brought him back to his memories of you.

There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under

Kaz fell. He was in the most pathetic position.

He didn't care, though, as he sat like a fool on the shore of the same lake where he met you. At which he irreversibly gave you the remnants of his heart a few years ago, without even knowing it.

He told himself that Nina was right. Once he let you go, he had to persevere in that resolve. Ketterdam will only bring you pain... so why was it so hard for him to let go of his last ties to you?

"Why are you coming here with me?" your gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he stared spellbound at your little water show.

"Am I bothering you?" he asked, shifting in his place on the dock as he watched you float in the lake.

He wouldn't even dip his little toe in himself, but he liked to silently watch you become one with what was dear to you. And by the way, he could admire your skills and beauty as much as he wanted. He didn't have to look for any particular excuse.

"No. It's just that I've never seen you watch your other crows train."

"They're not like you." it slipped out before he could think about it. "If anyone sees you, I better get them before they announce to the world that one of the Black General's tidemakers has taken refuge with me." your smirk dropped at the mere mention of your former life. Kaz cursed in his mind. "You are also too valuable an investment. And the rest of the crows liked you. It's a big achievement. Inej doesn't let new people in so easily... me too."

"So you like me after all, boss?" you asked with that mischievous smirk on your lips that made his heart beat like crazy. Good thing water was your specialty. At least you didn't hear his heart pounding.

"You're tolerable company, and what you can do… what you can do is amazing."

"It's just little tricks." you murmured, forming different shapes out of the water. "At the king's parties, I was quite often one of the highlights." you waved your hand, freezing the water to form an ice statue. His statue. "Not every tidemaker is strong enough to freeze water." with another wave of your hand, to his silent displeasure, you melted the ice. "Not to mention turning ice into water again. Most just stop at its liquid form and don't train any more. I like to think I'm too curious to ever stop exploring my powers."

"Or stubborn." he said with a small smirk, listening to your wonderful laugh.

He must have been cursed from the start, since fate had put someone so perfect in his path... someone he could never have. But he could have been watching you. Enjoy his eyes with your beauty and his ears with the tone of your voice.

"Sometimes that's a good trait too. You taught me that yourself."

"How convenient for you to learn from me only what you want and not what you need."

"Sometimes what we want is more important than what we need and what is more rational for us."

"What for example?"

"Love." he tried to keep a poker face, but apparently his eyes betrayed more than he would have liked, as you gave him a confused, questioning look. "What? You've never been in love?"

NO. Not until he looked into your eyes and heard you laugh. Not until he got into your first argument with you and lost with a smile on his face. Not until he first saw you use your powers to outsmart the bandits who attacked you. Not until he saw how the moonlight in Ketterdam made your eyes shine even more than usual, so that you might as well have lit up all of the city with your beauty. Not until he first heard his name come out of your mouth. No, until he foolishly began to believe in Inej's saints, when he saw how tenderly and kindly you treat the orphans in the streets of Ketterdam.

"This silence means either a very powerful heartbreak, or you really only love a kruge."

"What if I really never loved anyone? What if I don't believe in love?" he whispered, looking up at you. You sneaked up to him so that you were standing in front of him. Water trickled down your hair and along your neck to the hand you held out to him. You opened your hand, handing him a small shell.

"The world is too cruel for such beliefs, Kaz. If we don't believe in love, why should we get out of bed at all? Why do we accumulate all these riches and try to survive each day?" Kaz didn't know the answer. Not one that would allow him to avoid the uncomfortable subject of his feelings for you.

He took the shell from you and, being careful not to break it, put it in his pouch. Along with the other little things you fished out of the water.

Your eyes met. You stared into the other's eyes for a moment, lost in your own dreams, which were not too different from each other... Yet neither of you had the courage to admit them out loud and risk everything you had been so carefully building between yourselves. Even if your hearts burned for more.

So he sat with you in silence, watching you play with the water and analysing what you told him. What was the reason for his existence?

Kaz from a year ago would have answered quickly and without thinking. Revenge. But now that he was looking at you, he wasn't so sure about his answer… or at least it was closer to something much different than his desire for revenge.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh It's your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in And I'm tired of being so exhausted

He sat behind his desk, involuntarily reminiscing about the day it all began.

The day he almost lost you. The day you almost died in his arms. The day you told him something he secretly wanted to hear but wasn't prepared for. The day he will curse forever.

This was your first assignment after returning from Ravka and the whole sun summoner thing. A childish, simple burglary. Something to warm up his crows—a return to the reality of Ketterdam without queens and kings and politics.

And so it was. You filled your pockets with valuables and were about to leave when one of the guards spotted you. They were much better armed than you (it was supposed to be a simple robbery with no witnesses and no blood spilled, so you only had daggers and knives "just in case") and strangely familiar with all the secret passages in the small mansion.

Even though you found yourself in a terrible situation, you managed to leave the property. You laid out in the finish as you and Kaz ran towards the club. One of the guards shot at you and hit you. Very accurate, almost piercing your heart with a bullet.

Kaz stared dazedly as you screamed in pain as you clutched your chest and tumbled onto the muddy, cobbled road. He reacted faster than he thought, throwing the dagger at the man who shot you and killing him instantly. Inej would have praised him for such a throw.

But that effective kill didn't matter to him now. He ran over to you in a panic and kneeled beside you, tugging at the fabric of your shirt. He hissed as he saw the blood pouring down your skin.

"Kaz..." you groaned, looking at him terrified. Kaz ripped off a piece of his shirt and wrapped it tightly around your waist, trying to stop the gushing blood. "Cold." you mumbled, shivering in his arms. Brekker didn't even notice as he placed you in his lap; he was too busy to stop the bleeding until he found bloody Zenik. Where was she when he really fucking needed her?

"Shhh…. I know. Just try to hold on a little longer, okay? Nina and Jes will be here soon." he tried to calm you down by running his hand through your sweat-soaked hair. He rocked you back and forth, not knowing who he was trying to reassure—you or himself.

"We both know they won't make it on time."

"If you're wasting your energy talking, at least say something useful instead of talking nonsense, tidemaker." he growled at you, tightening his grip on you. "You're not getting away from me that fast. I didn't invest so much in you to make you leave before…" Until I tell you how much you mean to me... "Until we fill our vault with tonnes of Kruge."

"I could have predicted that even on my deathbed you'd be talking about the fucking Kruges." you laughed, coughing up some blood, which didn't calm his already madly beating heart. Where is that damn Zenik?

"Die in my arms and I promise I'll go back to hell for you. The devil can wait for you - I signed a pact with you first." you suddenly became serious, squeezing his gloved hand tighter and staring into his eyes as if they were the only stars in your dark sky.

"Kaz… I… I have to tell you…"

"Shut up, Y/L/N. You're not dying today." he snarled a warning, squeezing you so hard that he was sure to leave bruises on your arms. Panic rose in him as he felt your body slowly go limp, your breaths becoming less and less frequent.

"Kaz… I love you." you whispered, making him freeze in a daze. You only said those words in his wildest dreams. He had secretly dreamed of it many times, but certainly not like this. Not while your soul was slowly escaping from this cruel world unworthy of you.

He doesn't remember exactly when Nina came running, or how Jesper took you out of his arms, or how he kept up with Jesper's frantic pace as he ran with you in his arms.

But he surely was shaking all the way to the Crow Club. He only breathed a few hours after Nina announced to everyone that you would live. Then he left, without even entering your room to make sure Zenik's words were true, and locked himself in his office.

Tears began to fall from his eyes as he leaned against the door.

He could have lost you. Forever. Another person close to him.

His dreams would be tormented by the sight of your bloody corpse in some dirty alley. Again, he felt like that helpless little boy who had lost his brother. He found himself with Jordie THERE again.

Kaz couldn't go through all of it again. He wouldn't get up after your death. And there was only one thing he could do...

Fuck it all.

He needed you.

He was too exhausted to pretend any longer.

He was Kaz Brekker. He didn't need a reason. But his slowly dying heart without you seemed to be enough of an excuse to see you. Even if you're going to completely break it. Even the cold Bastard from the Barrel saw it as a good deal.

"JESPER!" he shouted, jumping out of his chair with his cane in hand.

"Yes?" his friend was at his side faster than ever.

"Tell the others to pack up. We're leaving in an hour." he muttered, taking out his travel bag from the wardrobe. Even without turning around, he knew a big smile had formed on Jesper's face.

We're going to get my girl back.

"About the damn time, Kaz." he patted him on the back and ran out of his office, telling the other crows the good news.

Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Your love I'm lost in Even though I'm nothing to you now Even though I'm nothing to you now

Kaz had been afraid of a few things in his life, but walking through the threshold of your new apartment seemed to be the most terrible of all his fears.

His crows obeyed him without objection for the first time in their lives and stayed at the hotel. He came here. On trembling legs and a rapidly beating heart. With his soul on his shoulder, ready to sacrifice and do anything to get you back. And if you didn't change your mind, it would be with a mind ready to carve your image into his memory so he could enjoy seeing you one last time in his miserable life.

Before he could change his mind, he knocked on the door.

He waited patiently, hearing footsteps approaching. He held his breath as the key turned in the lock.

But you weren't the one who opened the door for him.

"What?" a well-built, dark-haired man stood in the doorway.

Kaz began to compare himself to him, concluding that, when it came to appearance, he was superior to him in everything. He didn't stand a chance against someone like that for your heart. Doubts began to flood back into him. What if Nina was right?

"Are you going to stand here for half a day or..."

"Jackson!" your voice from the depths of the apartment shook Kaz. It froze him completely, irritating the man in front of him even more. "I need your help here, you big fool. What are you doing?" a moment later, you were standing in the vestibule. Your eyes met. Kaz shivered under your gaze, cursing himself for how quickly he fell under your spell as he stood there completely dazed.

"Y/N." your name came out of his mouth reverently, like a prayer, like a song long forgotten by a wanderer. You looked exactly the same as you did a few months ago. Except for the faint shadows under his eyes, which Kaz considered his greatest enemies.

"Kaz."

"Jackson. Hello there." the man waved at him, stepping between you. Jackson looked at you, worried. Kaz felt both anger welling up in him, a feeling of envy at how close you were with this strange guy, but also relief that you had someone close to take care of you. Not that you couldn't overcome the worst hell alone. He just felt relieved that you didn't have to. "Let him in, or should I kick his ass, wave?"

Wave? Did you two have nicknames for each other?

"It's all right. You can leave us." you said as you walked past him to face Kaz. The man behind you sighed, shaking his head.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

It might as well have been directed at Kaz. For the first time in his whole new Dirtyhands' life, he didn't have a plan, an emergency exit, or another backup plan. But now he was standing in front of you, staring at you helplessly as he absorbed your form. And that damn sea smell in your hair...

"Kaz."

"Y/N." he said as he came back down to earth. He took a small, calming breath. "How are you?"

"Really? Are you here just to ask how I'm doing?" she asked incredulously, folding her arms.

Kaz wrinkled his nose at your dry, angry tone. As he could see, it would be even more difficult than he thought. He stood in front of you, twirling his cane nervously in his hands.

"I'm here for a completely different reason, but I couldn't… I couldn't not come and see you." he admitted turning his gaze back to you after lowering his head in embarrassment.

"I'm alright. My brother and I are having a great time."

"Brother?" he asked. Relief and joy washed over him. Nor could he help himself to this naive hope, which began to warm his cold heart.

"Yes... Jackson. Who did you think he was?" he did not answer. You could have guessed. He knew you saw the flicker of jealousy in his eyes after that strange man called you a wave. You were his tidemaker, his wave, his sea, and all the fucking things. For a moment, he forgot that he was the one who had deprived himself of the right to claim against you. "You saw me, you asked how I was, so you can go now. Goodbye, Kaz." you were about to close the door on him, but at the last moment he put his cane between them, preventing you from doing so. You opened your door again, giving him a questioning look.

"Come back with me." he whispered, defeated. He couldn't let you go. Not again, not after there was still the slightest chance you might still want him.

"What?" you whispered softly, pretty sure you misheard him.

"There's no other reason why I'm here... I can't eat, I can't sleep, and I can't think or function like a normal person without you next to me. I'm one step away from daydreaming about you, hallucinating, and being insane that you're still by my side, so please... I'm begging you to come back to me. I know I don't deserve you and that I hurt you. You have every right to kick me out, but please, Y/N, just come home."

"What exactly am I supposed to come back to, Kaz? A cold, surly boss who is afraid of his feelings? Who doesn't hesitate to hurt me to protect his heart?"

"I'm not... I'm not good at this. Feelings. I... I don't know what it's like to love, but I know that when I'm with you... when I'm with you, nothing else matters. Not Ketterdam, not power, not Kruge, not wealth, not profit—nothing has ever been on my pedestal. Only you. Always you. And maybe I'm terrified of it, but now I know that I'd rather fight my own demons for you than let you go. I will try my best. If you still want me." he stared at you with undisguised hope in his eyes, only now realising how close he had come to you during your conversation. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek uncertainly. "I love you, Y/N... even if I'm nothing to you now." he murmured, risking everything and resting his forehead against yours with a sigh.

There must be something in the water Cause everyday it's getting colder And if only I could hold you You'd keep my head from going under

He inhaled your scent with his eyes closed, waiting for your move. Hope grew with him every second you continued to let him be so close to you.

"You're an idiot, Kaz Brekker." he didn't contradict or argue with you. He was a complete idiot, pushing you away and begging you to come back, all the while acting like a love-crazy fool… however, he wouldn't have it any other way if it meant you taking your place in his office again. If someday he could hold you in his arms… "You have lucky you're my idiot. With all of your bruises, scars, and everything else." you promised, hugging him tighter. You pulled away from him with serious eyes, making Kaz swallow. "But if you do that shit again, forget I'm coming back to you. Also, we need to seriously work on your communication, Brekker. Do you know how long I've had to struggle here with that other idiot who claims to be my brother?"

"I can hear all of it!" you sighed at your brother's grumbling and gave Kaz a meaningful look. Brekker smiled slightly, causing a matching goofy smirk to appear on your face.

"See? But seriously, I'm not kidding. Last chance, Kaz."

"A deal is a deal. You're never going anywhere without me again."

"A red flag!" your brother coughed from the kitchen. You rolled your eyes, grabbing the edge of Kaz's coat sleeve.

"Shut up, Jackson. I'm leaving, I'll be back in an hour! Try not to burn down the apartment, spitfire."

You didn't wait for his answer as you slammed the door behind you and stepped out with Kaz into the street. Brekker led you towards the hotel where the other crows were staying. His hand in yours, which did not escape your notice. You turned your head towards him, giving him a confused look, which made him smile slightly, shifting his gaze to the port and the sea.

At one point, he noticed that one of the waves "attacked" a trader, washing him over. He cursed so loudly that you could hear him even from this distance. Kaz shifted his gaze to you, immediately noticing the sly smirk on your face. Suddenly, the wallet fell from the sky right into your waiting hand, along with droplets of salty, cool water.

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. A self-satisfied smirk formed on his face after seeing your blush.

One day, he will be able to touch you without his gloves. Hold in your arms without layers of clothes on. He will do it. No matter how long it takes him to get rid of the greatest demon of his past. But something told him that you'd keep his head from going under the water again. His queen of waves. His crow. His anchor. And he will make sure that he holds you in his arms forever. 

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

Lily didn't know that fourteen was the year for kids to go love crazy. Ever since the term started she had heard her classmates talking about who they fancied or not, who was the fittest bird or bloke. Like Mary Macdonald who since the term began, didn't stop talking about how James Potter had gotten more handsome than ever.

Lily didn't agree. The prospect of being on the age of potentially starting having boyfriends excited her. She was a seeker for a good romance after all. But Lily didn't see her male classmates as fit or good matches like the rest of the girls. Specially not James Potter, who was her real nightmare since she met him three years ago. She couldn't find anyone more annoying, more irritating and more self centered as Potter. Lily didn't understand what Mary saw in him.

At least Lily could understand why half of the girls at Hogwarts were wondering if Sirius Black was single. Because only a blind person couldn't see how handsome that wanker was. But Potter? Really? With those big glasses and that untidy hair...

"Marly, you are his friend" Mary was saying that night "Do you think he would be interested in me?"

Lily was silent as she pretend to read a book from her bed.

Marlene made face "I don't think James is interested in anyone more than himself, if I'm honest"

Lily couldn't agree more.

"Oh come on! Boys are finally noticing us" Mary commented "And it is obvious that both boys and girls are more... developed" she smirked "James has always been cute. But he is taller and his voice is deeper... He's becoming a man"

Lily couldn't help but snort. James Potter could be a monkey more than a man.

Shit, now the girls were looking at her.

"Sorry" Lily blushed as she pointed to the book on her hands "Just read a funny scene"

The girls ignored her. Mary turned to Marlene again.

"Could you please ask him if he would be interested in me?"

"Do I have to?" Marlene didn't seem convinced, so Mary pouted.

"Pleaseee!"

Marlene twisted her mouth.

"Fine! I'll ask him"

Mary beamed, hugging her friend tight. Marlene was pleased.

"But honestly Mar, you can do so much better" she tutted.

Lily pitied Mary or the poor girl that ended up dating James Potter.

Perhaps she could give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Potter had matured this year and poor Mary had a chance.

Although Lily confirmed that James Potter was the horrible person she always thought he was the next day.

Lily was minding her own business, walking to the Library in fact, when she heard the group of boys that called themselves The Marauders (lame name) talking on the stairs.

"That was the fifth time this week, Sirius" Peter said after a group of giggling girls waved at Sirius and he winked back "We haven't settled in properly and half the school is drooling for you"

Lily didn't know why she hid behind the wall to keep listening. It was none of her business. Well, maybe she was a curious person. Reason why she listened to Mary and Marlene talking last night. If her life was dull, maybe she could live it through other people's dramas.

"Speaking from envy, Pete?" Lily could hear the smile on Sirius’s voice "It's not my fault I have gorgeous looks"

"The difference is that Sirius announced he is not interested in dating any of them" Potter added with a cheeky tone "Didn't you, mate?"

"Not fair" Peter groaned "I want to date all of them"

"Don't sound so desperate, Pettigrew" Sirius chuckled "We just started term"

"Yeah but something weird happened since this summer. I can't stop watching girls and..."

"Wanking?" Potter asked with a laugh. Black laughed with him.

"Guys!" Peter protested and Lily assumed he was getting red.

Lily felt her cheeks burning. She had heard some of Petunia's friends talking about the matter before. But it seemed so weird, taboo and disgusting.

"Totally normal" Potter continued "Talked about it with my dad. We're getting older and we are having sexual needs"

"You talked about it with your dad?" Black seemed surprised.

"Well, by force" Potter confirmed, Lily could swore he was red "He caught me staring at several women's necklines during the summer, then sat me to talk about the matter"

God, Potter was so disgusting.

"And he told you about wanking and stuff?" Sirius asked amused.

"Not precisely, he just said that it is normal we look at girls and feel... Stuff..."

Lily shouldn't be listening to this. Oh my God. But her feet seemed to be stuck.

"I feel stuff" Peter confirmed as Sirius laughed.

"You guys are so pathetic"

"Don't tell me, Sirius, that you don't find girls interesting"

"There might be several, I consider interesting..."

"I consider them all interesting at the moment" Peter commented under his breath.

"There are several girls who... developed this year" Potter said. It was what Mary had said.

"Like who?" Black teased.

"Lily Evans, for example"

The second Potter said that, his friends bursted into fits of laughter. And Lily's eyes widened.

"Whinny Little Evans?"

"Snivellus's Friend?"

"Teacher's pet Evans?"

"What?" Potter protested as the two boys kept laughing "I saw her the other day with a tight blouse and she had boobs...A nice pair, I might add"

Lily stared down at her chest. They definitely had grown but other girls had them bigger and more rounded. Lily never considered she had a good body or good face for that matter.

Black and Pettigrew kept laughing as they couldn't believe Lily had actual boobs.

Lily imagined Potter's cheeks bright red and the annoying way in which he pushed his glasses up when he was nervous.

"Oh sod off! Stop laughing!"

Lily cursed herself for knowing that.

"Come on, Jamsie!" Sirius giggled "We're talking about Evans... Evaaans... The girl is nuts"

"And very annoying" Peter agreed "She always telling teachers what we do"

Lily pursed her lips. That was because they were always doing mischief.

"I know... I know..." Potter said nervously "I'm not saying I'm marrying her or anything. I just think she is fitter this term. I am not blind... "

"You are blind" Sirius chuckled "Her nose is too big and her braces make her look weird"

Lily felt a knot on her throat. She shouldn't care what that wanker said.

"Oh, she is not wearing braces anymore" Potter intervened "She looks better without them"

What annoyed Lily the most was that James Potter of all people was defending her.

"Did you hear, Pete?" Sirius laughed "Our Jamsie is in love with Whinny Evans"

"I am not!!" Potter seemed embarrassed "I just pointing out that she is kind of fit... That's... That's all"

Black continued laughing. The prat.

"Oh shut up, Sirius!"

"Good thing you don't fancy her" Peter intervened "I heard she is dating Snivellus"

Honestly, people were so annoying. Severus was her friend. Her best friend. A lot of people had assumed they were dating over the years. As if boys and girls couldn't be friends. Of course the rumor had spread now more since her classmates were more obsessed about the dating subject.

"See, Pete?" Sirius was mocking "Even Snivellus is dating someone and not you"

"Fuck off, Sirius!"

"Honestly, Evans deserve better than old Snivellus" Potter commented with a tut.

"Like you, my brilliant hero?"

Black was a disgusting pig, he made everything a joke.

"I'm just saying it because no matter how annoying she is... Nobody deserves to date someone so disgusting as Snivellus... Too much grease!"

Lily clenched her fist. She could punch him. Why wouldn't they leave Severus alone?

"Yeah, right" Sirius tutted.

"And maybe yes! I would be an improvement for Evans, surely"

It was Peter's turn to laugh.

"She would never give you a chance!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Pete?"

"Pete is right" Black added "She hates you, mate"

Potter gasped. Right it just hurt his ego.

"I bet pigs would fly before Evans gives you a chance" Peter added.

"Oh do you want to bet?" James asked now with his annoying superior tone. "I bet I can get Evans on a date before Peter even gets a date"

Lily had her mouth open now. Pettigrew would surely get offended. But he didn't show it

"Oh it is on!" he spat "I will totally win this. Evans despises you"

Lily did. Even more now.

There was a brief silence now, so Lily assumed they shook hands.

"I want to be in" Black added.

"No no no!" Peter said "It is too easy for you"

"Put me an impossible, then"

What a pig!

"McGonagall!" James exclaimed. The other boys laughed.

"Very funny"

"Okay... There's not impossible for you, though"

"How about a number?" Sirius said "I snog twenty girls before Christmas break"

"Twenty!?" Peter was shocked.

Lily couldn't hear anymore. She was so angry and disgusted that she was going to commit murder if she continued there any longer.

Lily's anger lasted all day. She couldn't concentrate on her classes, which annoyed her. She couldn't stop thinking about how much she wanted those boys to die. She hated them. She loathed them. Especially Potter.

Lily was spiteful at dinner. She was grunting under her breath. And aggressively serving herself the food.

"Are you okay?" Severus asked next to her.

Lily took a deep breath "Everyone is so annoying this term... Talking about dating and stuff... Aarrg it is so irritating"

Severus blinked at her.

"Ignore them"

"God, but everyone is so obsessed with it!"

"What do you think about that?" Severus asked nervously "Would you potentially..."

Lily was grabbing a piece of pie to place in her plate when the worst happened. The three assholes Lily didn't want to see appeared in that second. And pushed Severus away.

"Move, Snivellus! Out of our way" Potter snapped.

"Honestly," Black added "They shouldn't allow you near the food. You're gonna leave grease all over it"

A bunch of people laughed around them. Pettigrew the loudest. Potter was grinning and Lily wanted to rip his smile off his face.

Severus looked furious but broken. Lily was sick and tired of people treating him badly.

"Would you fuck off and leave Severus alone?" Lily snapped..

The Marauders' eyes were on her.

"Evans" Potter's hand went to his stupid hair "Defending your new boyfriend, are you?"

Lily was fuming

"Well, there are rumors surrounding you two" Potter said, then turned to Severus "Tell me, Snivy, how did you manage to be the first one in our year to have a girlfriend?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Lots of students were paying attention now. Some older students were telling them to move forward. Black found the whole thing amusing. And the worst part was that he had admirers. Even Mary and Marlene were around.

"Jealous?" Severus said under his breath.

"Not that is any of your business Potter" Lily snapped "But Severus is not my boyfriend"

Potter raised a curious eyebrow "Is that so?"

"Yes!"

"If Snivellus is not your boyfriend then..."

"Don't call him that!"

"You wouldn't mind me asking you on a date"

Several witnesses gasped or started murmuring amongst themselves. Lily couldn't avoid but blushing.

"Come on, Evans. You can do better than Snivellus" Potter cleared his throat and rubbed his hair "Would you like to go out on a date with me? Or what?"

Lily noticed how everyone's eyes were on her, expecting her answer. She saw how Severus was furious and humiliated. She saw how Black and Pettigrew were amused and she remembered their words from the morning. The way Black had made fun of her and called her ugly. And she also noticed Mary. She was eyeing at James hopefully, wishing she was her he was asking out. She had talked about how he was the love of her life the whole weak anyway.

This was humiliating. Everyone thought she was a laughing matter. They all hated her at that stupid school. Maybe except Severus.

Lily wanted to cry. But with that reaction, Potter would win. And she would never give in. And be used for a stupid bet.

So Lily grabbed the plate of pie she was going to have for dessert and tossed it to James Potter's stupid face. And God! How good it felt!

Everyone gasped, then laughed.

"I wouldn't even date you even if we were the last people on earth, Potter!" Lily screamed "You are a freaking idiot! I hate you!"

With that, Lily ran away before tears threatened to appear. Before the knot was too strong and Lily couldn't take it anymore.

In the scene remaining, James Potter was a joke for everyone around. Even his best friends. Traitors.

He knew cream had gotten inside his nostrils and his glasses were covered on it so he took them off. All he could feel and smell was lemon and sugar.

"You have something on your face, Potter" James saw a ghost of a smile on Snivellus's disgusting face. The wanker was pleased as he ran after Evans. James hated that twat.

"Are you okay, James?" Macdonald seemed concerned while Marlene couldn't contain her laughter next to her.

James nodded, trying not to look offended.

"Good job at winning the bet" Sirius whispered mockingly on his ear.

It wasn't that James cared about winning the freaking bet. Something weird happened to him when he bumped into Evans at the beginning of term. He felt something with wings flying inside of him. Butterflies? And he thought he hadn't seen a girl more beautiful than her. That beautiful long red hair, those freckles, her green eyes, her lips, her breasts, everything. His heart even jumped inside his chest.

But James didn't want to sound sappy in front of his mates. He was embarrassed about what Evans was making him feel.

"It is not over, Sirius" he said to his best friend as he tried to wipe cream off his face "I don't take a no for an answer"

[holylulusworld]

The Widow (1)

Summary: You trust no one. Not since they got your husband killed.

Pairing: TFaTW!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions death of a loved-one, the reader is under protection, bitchy reader, arguments, grumpy Bucky, angst

The widow masterlist

The Widow - Prologue

You wake from another nightmare, screaming at the top of your lungs. When you sit up, you clutch the blanket to your chest and try to remember what your therapist told you.

“One,” you count. “Two,” you sniffle. “This is shit.” You grab the lamp from the nightstand and throw it at the man stepping inside your room.

“Whoa, watch where you are throwing your lamps,” Bucky grumbles. He dodged your attack just in time to watch the lamp hit the wall next to him. “I came here to check on you, not to get hit by a lamp.”

He tugs his gun away, looking around the room. “What happened? Why did you scream? A spider? A bug?”

“Get out,” you look away to not show him the unshed tears in your eyes. “That’s none of your business. I didn’t want you to come here and save me. Go back to sleep.”

Bucky watches you run your hands over your arms. He knows the signs of nightmares all too well. Sleep is not his friend. Most of the time he wakes from another nightmare. Skin sweat-slicked and with a racing heart.

“I’m outside if you need anything.”

“Sure-“ you quip. “Just like the other guys promising to protect me and Ransom if he tells them everything he knows about his former partner.” You pucker your lips. “Now he’s dead and gone all because of them.”

“He’s dead because he was a criminal.”

“Ransom wasn’t a criminal,” you throw the blanket away and slip out of the bed to walk toward the second nightstand. You grab the lamp and throw it at Bucky. This time you hit him square in the chest. “Get out! I dare you to say one more word about my husband.”

Your lips quiver and you clutch your hands to your chest. No. You won’t cry in front of this stranger. He’s no better than the others.

“You should practice your aim,” he looks at the broken lamp on the ground. “I hope you know, it’s your job to keep the house clean.”

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you, doll!” He grunts and storms toward the door. “If you want to stay alive, stop screaming for nothing.”

“Asshole!”

The door slams shut, leaving you angry and sad. Why does everyone believe Ransom was a bad person? He made one single mistake.

Your husband trusted the wrong person and ended up laundering money for a mafia boss, not a businessman in trouble.

“I see she’s still alive,” Sam grins when you glare his way. You only lifted your eyes from the magazine you pretended to read to watch the two men. “Anything to report, Bucky?”

“She threw two lamps at me,” Bucky grunts. “I think we should handcuff her. Maybe a gag will help too.”

“Fuck you,” you snarl at Bucky. “I didn’t ask you to babysit me. Ransom is dead. I know nothing about his business. So, let me go. I’ll figure things out from here.”

“No can do,” the super-soldier glares at you. “Why don’t you try to act like a decent person?”

“Why don’t you choke?” You flash him your best-faked smile. “I hope all of you getting my Ransom killed rot in hell.”

“Bucky, a word?” Sam jerks his head toward the kitchen. “We need to talk about a few things. Especially her husband’s death, and his business.”

“I can tell you everything about my husband’s death,” you snarl. “Your fine agents told his former business partner where to find us. He died protecting me. Ransom was more man than you could ever be!”

“Bucky, don’t,” Sam holds his friend back. “Please just drop it. She’s…hurt…and scared.”

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I’m annoyed by his presence.”

Bucky follows Sam out of the room. He huffs and balls his metal hand into a fist. “If you don’t find someone else to babysit her, I cannot guarantee she’ll be alive at the end of the week…”

“Bucky, I know she’s driving you up the walls, but her husband died in her arms.” Sam places pictures of your dead husband on the table. “Five bullets hit him, and he still managed to protect Y/N.”

“Hmm…” Bucky glances at the pictures.

“She’s traumatized but won’t admit it.” Sam gives his friend a stern look. “She has nightmares and mood swings. This has nothing to do with you or your presence. Y/N watched her husband die and held him in her arms. She was like a feral animal, biting and scratching the agents when they tried to part her from her dead husband.”

Bucky is silent for a moment. He’s still not convinced that you and your husband aren’t bad people. “He did business with the wrong people. It’s his fault.”

Sam bites his tongue. “Bucky, just protect her. Y/N doesn’t deserve to die because of her husband’s mistakes. Remember, she’s an innocent bystander.”

“Right.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you repeat his name twice. “I knew I heard the name before.” You chuckle darkly. “The man telling me that my husband was evil did unspeakable things himself. You killed innocent people hiding behind a different name.” You sneer. “Only because you don’t call yourself the Winter Soldier anymore doesn’t change your past.”

Bucky is frozen to the spot. His past can’t be undone, but he tried to make amends as best as he could. Now you look at him like he’s some kind of monster. You out of all the people dare to hold his past against him.

“What? Cat got your tongue. Doesn’t feel good when someone judges you only because they read shit about your past, huh? Well, shit darling. I won’t stop digging out your past, babysitter. If you want me to stop, go and leave me alone. Send someone else to watch over me!” 

“How did she find out about me and my past?” Bucky hisses at Sam. “I thought she got no access to a phone, TV, or the internet.”

“I can read, and have a very good memory,” you smirk darkly at Bucky as you walk inside the kitchen. “You didn’t live under a rock over the last years. I saw you more than once on TV. The hair is shorter now, though.”

“Y/N,” Sam tries to stop you and his friend from arguing again. “What the soldier did wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He got brainwashed and…”

You raise your hand to stop Sam from arguing with you. “Ransom didn’t become a criminal on free terms either,” you grit your teeth. “He tried to do business and make some money. My husband didn’t know he got himself into trouble by doing business with that monster.”

“He’s still a criminal,” Bucky grunts. “He did all of this for money.”

“Says the man claiming to be innocent, even though you killed hundreds of people. They threatened to kill Ransom and me if he didn’t do as they said. He was a victim, you were just…” you huff and turn to leave. “A monster hiding behind your friend Captain America.”

You know it’s not fair to call Bucky a monster. All the things you read about him tell you that he was a victim.

You just can’t bring yourself to admit that he was a victim too while he treats you like shit, and keeps on telling you your husband was a criminal…

The widow (2)

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