#and it’s all thanks to my final fantasy shaped head injury
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Rampant Regeneration, The Power of Healing Magic
Introduced early in the series, the coven system of the Boiling Isles divides magic into nine broad categories or “tracks,” one of which a witch or demon must choose by law to specialize in while giving up the others. Each branch has its own unique facets and places where it overlaps with some of the others, but they are all fascinating.
Perhaps the least represented is one we all wish for at one time or another: Healing magic.
Represented by the color indigo and a sigil of an open hand with the palm wrapped in bandages, Healing magic seems straightforward enough. It largely involves repairing injuries and healing diseases, covering the common fantasy niche of “white” magic.
Healing magic is first clearly demonstrated on-screen by Viney in “The First Day.” In a flashback, she heals a student of a cut, and in the present after the defeat of the Greater Basilisk, she heals scratches on her griffin Puddles. Such small spells seem to be relatively simple, as Viney is able to handle them with little trouble. (That being said, Willow later describes Viney as the best healer in school, which throws this implied simplicity into question.)
While healing of wounds and disease is obviously the focus of the art, a few other applications are seen throughout the second season. During the flyer derby match in “Any Sport in a Storm,” Viney demonstrates a protective shield shaped like the Healing Coven sigil — something that would make perfect sense, as healers would likely be focused on preventing injury as well as repairing it. *Note that if all such barriers fall under the Healing banner, then it would mean Eda’s use of a shielding spell in “The Intruder” would be the branch’s first on-screen use.* The coven head Hettie Cutburn halting a thrown scalpel in midair to threaten Eberwolf may also be a more focused use of this kind of spell.
Another implied aspect of Healing magic is an elemental factor: ice magic! In the episode “Something Ventured, Someone Framed,” the Healing student Bo demonstrates creating a snowball to Skara. While elemental magics may be outside the coven separation — as Dana Terrace has confirmed that certain general magics such as telekinesis are not confined to a single coven — it would make sense for this to be used often by healers in the form of ice packs or cold compresses.
One last interesting aspect of Healing magic is its use of “glyphs” — similar to the power glyphs of the Construction Coven rather than Luz Noceda’s wild magic glyphs. These are seen at least twice, once in the short “Welcome to Hexside” slapped Mattholomule after his various injuries and another on Amity’s cast in “Agony of a Witch.” This implies that certain healing rites are either too taxing to perform at once or are dangerous if performed too quickly.
A final note based on my own thoughts is the respect of the track and coven. Certain magic branches, namely Illusion and Bard, have been shown to be held in lower regard than others. Healing, I think, has the opposite inclination. I am convinced that, like the real-world medical field, healers are highly respected. Both due to the pervasive need of their skills, and the logical difficulty. Living things are incredibly complex, and magic or not one would need a wide and intense amount of schooling to understand it and therefore repair it properly. In this light, Healing magic may be the most difficult branch in the coven system!
Though it is not seen often, Healing magic has shown enough to at least make it engaging to think about. I certainly wouldn’t want to mess with a healer!
Thanks for reading! More to come …!
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heart attack!
description: han jisung can charm any heart if he wants to but he just wants one, whether he admits it to your face or not.
member: jisung / han
genre: fluff, fantasy, rivals to lovers au, childhood friends to lovers au, witch / wizard au (sugar sugar rune-inspired), royal au, college au, roommates / housemates au, slice of life format, a side of hwang siblings, sunshine twins, cousin chan, and minchan (!!)
word count: 25.1k i’m so sorry
warnings: explicit language, alcohol, some mentions of injuries, a brief episode of someone getting abducted, mentions of a creep being,,,well a creep at public transportation, self-indulgent tooth-rotting cheesiness, idk if i should put a warning for unconscious emotional manipulation but im gonna write that in here anw
note: idk if i want to write little drabbles w this same pairing again since it ended up being so long but i kinda lost the plot halfway lmao lmk if u guys want additional lil drabbles for this hehe + again happy 1k yay!
You don’t always get along with Han Jisung, crown prince of the Eastern Kingdom, for reasons you simply can't limit to the number of fingers and toes that you have. He loves annoying you for the sake of getting a reaction, bratty as far as a wizard prince goes, and prideful among many traits that you were forced to grow up alongside with.
These days, however, you hate the way that he is the only other candidate alongside yourself for the High Crown of the magical world. As if fate didn't just want the two of you to butt heads in school and at royal social functions all the time, suddenly you're pushed to compete with him for something much greater.
For the record, though, it's tradition that all firstborn heirs of the 4 major kingdoms are considered eligible for the highest throne that unites all of your domains. You were going to compete with him either way, just with other people initially involved. However, with prince Hyunjin of the Southern kingdom mysteriously disappearing over a month ago and princess Lia of the Western kingdom subsequently refusing the candidacy, suddenly there was only you and the Eastern prince for the high jury to challenge in their Crown Candidacy exam. Fate and circumstance clearly love you with the way Jisung is always in your line of sight when all you want for yourself is to not be on the receiving end of his teasings and competititve streak all the time.
Though you yourself didn't desire the High Crown at first, the elders continuously pressuring you eventually pushed you into accepting the task. Plus, knowing that it's Jisung—the brat who pulled on your hair during those silly etiquette lessons the high jury made you and the other royals take as kids and embarrassed you when you once confessed your past crush to him in middle school—who would be automatically crowned without a test if Hyunjin isn't found in time and you also refuse made you go forward with it. After all, as much as you personally don't want to answer to Jisung as the next High King, you also think that entrusting the entire magical realm to him is simply not right. You would know, you had to grow up with him.
So, here you are on the night that the Crown Candidacy exam begins, receiving the final blessing from your mother and the high jury with Jisung who has been sneakily trying to poke on your side and get a reaction out of you since the ceremony began. If 15 elders and your mentors aren't surrounding the two of you with their scrutinizing eyes right this very moment, you would've easily snapped on the first poke and blasted the blue-haired boy.
"Stop that," You instead gritted your teeth next to him with the 17th poke to your waist, lowering your voice that only he can hear. "Ji, I swear to the gods—"
Among the circle of witches and wizards chanting ritual protection spells over the two of you, your mentor Younghyun glares at you and Jisung as if in a non-verbal scolding that the two of you should stop "playing around" as he would usually word it. You simply roll your eyes at this in response, earning you more quizzical looks from the other elders.
You also hate the way that Han Jisung keeps stringing you into his antics as his favourite person to mess with. If anything, you're most often in trouble with the elders because of him.
"This part of the ceremony is so unnecessary. I'm bored" He murmurs tiredly under his breath, bringing his hands back inside his black cape and pushing his shoulders back as he stands up straighter once more. "It's not like humans can hurt us. We're the magical ones, hello? Besides, the jury’s already cut the one-year exam by half. What could even happen in that time?”
"Stray monsters can still hunt you there if you don’t stand still." You correct immediately, earning you a look from your own mother this time as she finishes leading the last of the spells. At this point in your unwanted association with him, you don't even care much anymore that you get in trouble because you entertain his antics. You just want him to shut up. "Whatever. It's done."
The prince then giddily springs up in place once all of the spells are casted, suddenly looking more awake than the past 5 minutes of ceremony. "Finally! Okay, thanks for that! We'll be going now!"
"Wait." Your mother calmly interrupts him, perfectly hiding her slight annoyance over you and Jisung as she whips out her blue wand from the pockets of her ceremonial robes. "For the high jury to properly tally the ecure that you'll collect in the human world after this task, we'll be providing you with vessels to keep them."
As she mentions the vessels, a sapphire locket and an emerald ring materialize in front of you and Jisung respectively before settling at the palms of your hands. You're then quick to notice the way that the diamond-cut sapphire encrusted at the center of your locket emits warmth as you place it around your neck, indicating its magical properties.
"These vessels have been modified further to record everything that you collect and any spell or potion that you might use them on while undertaking in this task." Your mother then continues. Simultaneously, Younghyun gestures for you and Jisung to mount your brooms and prepare to fly off into the yellow crescent moon where the portal to the human world lies on its other side. "Though the ecure that you lose is not counted in the final tally, knowing how you used or lost them also contributes to the jury's examination of your magical skills and knowledge."
Jisung chuckles, bumping the bristle end of his broom with yours playfully. "And to see what kind of trouble we'll get ourselves into, right?"
In response, you simply roll your eyes. Your mother, on the other hand, purposely tunes out Jisung's usual antics and continues, "Remember, this exam will determine the next monarch that unites all of the 4 major domains. Collect as much ecure as you can from the humans in the 6 months that you're given with them and you will be rewarded greatly. Until then, have a safe journey to the human world, candidates."
With that, you and Jisung push yourselves off from the castle balcony, heading straight to the crescent moon.
"Last to the other side is a lousy flyer!" Jisung yells playfully into the quiet night, speeding ahead before you could even process his words. “And has to pay for a meal sometime!”
"Ya! Han Jisung!" You increase your speed yourself anyway despite knowing that his words don’t have any ill meaning, catching up to him with ease just as the two of you pass into the portal. “I paid for the meals last time!”
-
Han Jisung isn't always fond of you, the heir to the Northern Kingdom, for reasons he simply can't limit to the number of fingers and toes that he has. He thinks you're too uptight (especially in the presence of the high jury and the other elders of the bigger royal circle), easily irritable, and surprisingly a bit of a pushover to your kingdom's advisors ever since your cousin, Chan, renounced his royal title and settled in the human world.
These days, however, he hates the way that you've suddenly taken up an interest in competing for the high crown of the magical world alongside him even when you've made it clear countless times before that you only wanted to rule your own kingdom. You only started showing interest after Lia formally refused her candidacy and the elders pushed you more into changing your mind, clearly hinting that you don't want Jisung to automatically be crowned High King.
Do they really think that terribly of me? Jisung has resorted to thinking a lot about these days, even now as the two of you arrive at Chan’s place where you would be staying for the duration of the test. I make a good high king as much as I do the king of my own people! Hmp!
It shouldn't bother him this much, it's just you anyway. But at the same time, it bothers him for this very same reason: because it's you, the know-it-all who always busted his antics to the teachers back in school and embarrassed him to his friends when you confessed your past crush to him back in middle school. Jisung hates the way you challenge and compel him to be petty and competitive all the time, especially in the little things. Like right now, as the two of you argue on who gets the bigger bedroom in Chan's house right after you arrived.
"You know, I was just holding back a while ago because we were in front of the elders but I swear, I won't hesitate to blast you now that we're away." You warn as you try your best to stare him down while he blocks the bedroom door you both want. You have your hands raised to the side, sparks of a spell encircling our fingers and the space between your hands. "Move, Jisung!"
Still, Jisung stubbornly refuses. You two have bickered enough to last you all of your lifetimes and for him to know that you won't really do it. "I was here first! You go to the other room!"
The blue ball of energy in your hands begins to shape itself into a more tangible shape as your brows furrow even deeper in frustration. "But I called dibs on this room to Chan firs—!"
Before you could finish your words, however, Chan peeks his head out from the opposite end of the hallway with a pile of blankets in his hands. "You two still going at it? It's almost 2 AM." He teases in feigned disapproval, approaching the two of you to throw a blanket each of your way. "Come on, give it up, Sung. Y/N gets the big room."
Jisung's initial smug expression contorts into disbelief in an instant while you celebrate with a wide grin and a teasing tongue stuck out at him. "What?!"
"Ha! Thanks, Channie!" You clasp your hands together in satisfaction, the red sparks in your hands disappearing into thin air as you do so, before pushing the paralyzed Jisung out of the way and locking yourself in the bedroom. Once Jisung's pulled himself together at the betrayal, you then briefly peek your head out of the door, sticking your tongue out for the last time before greeting the two boys with a quick, "Goodnight!"
Jisung glares and purses his lips in front of Chan who chuckles at this. "Hyung!" He whines, grabbing the older boy by his biceps and shaking him wildly like how a child would throw a tantrum. "I don't see you for three years and when I do, I get treated like this?!"
"Exactly." Chan nods with an amused smile, tugging Jisung to his side and leading him to his room across from yours. "Y/N was kind enough to visit me here while you didn't even send a letter. I think that's enough to give them the big room."
"Aah, but you already know why I couldn't! I was busy with all the prince stuff!"
"Y/N was too, though? And they’re doing twice the work than you."
"But Y/N's more organized than me!"
"So you agree? My cousin earned the bigger room?"
"No, it’s not th—aish! Bang Chan!" When the older boy in question tries pushing Jisung back to the smaller bedroom, the latter childishly protests by gripping onto the doorframe. "I'm making it up to you now! I'm literally staying here for 6 months!"
"Yeah and I'll definitely treat you to lots of other things for that later. Seriously, Ji, give it a rest. It's just your temporary room for the exam." Chan sighs with a tired laugh, prying the younger wizard's hands off of the doorframe and shoving him inside the room. "Unpack your things and get some sleep. We're having a welcoming party for you two on the weekend."
"You're supposed to side with me here."
"Don't pull that face, you're not kids anymore." Chan chuckles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. "And I'm not siding with anyone. It’s just a room! Night, Sungie."
Jisung opens his mouth to protest, only for Chan to close the door on him and walk back to his own room. With a sigh, the boy defeatedly trudges to his new bed and, after taking out his expandable pouch from his pockets, jumps to the mattress with a muffled groan to the plush pillows.
Jisung also hates how one of his best friends favors you better just because you're cousins first. He's had enough of Chan coddling you before from when you were kids, always taking your side when the two of you bicker and offering you his extra food when the three of you are together, and he would much prefer it if he doesn't see it now that the two of you are undergoing an important exam.
"At least the view's nice." He pouts to himself once he's seated up once more, facing the window that overlooks the city. After just spending ten minutes flying over Seoul and exploring Chan's vast mansion, Jisung gets it a little now. Chan definitely didn't choose this realm over their home for no reason.
If I'm not in line to be king, Jisung thinks to himself, this life also seems nice.
Hovering his hands over the enchanted green pouch, its neatly packed contents of clothes and other personal belongings then emerge from its seemingly tiny space before levitating to their respective places. "Aish, that Y/N!" Jisung yells loudly on purpose, leaning on his side closer to the door to hear your reaction.
Across the hall, while you make a fuss out of unpacking and changing the appearance of some furniture, you yell back, "Shut up, Ji!"
Jisung has many reasons for disliking you at times but, if anything, he lives for your reactions when he purposely annoys you. Even when he knows you’re always a spell away from actually snapping at him, you never actually do and it never fails to amuse him. Scoffing, he lets it slide for now and quietly unpacks.
-
If attending social functions as a royal has taught you anything over the years, it's to avoid being within reach of Jisung at a party before, during, and after he makes a huge mess of things. You've had your own fair share of spilled drinks to your dress robes, purposely getting embarrassed in front of the elders and other important public officials, and even a huge fight over not wanting to be his dance partner to remind you of this at all times.
Of the places that you and Jisung have to be standing next to each other, it's the parties that you hate having to see him at the most because they bring you nothing but trouble. Chan's welcoming party for the two of you, with witches and wizards living in the human world as well as Chan's own human friends in attendance, is no exception.
"What do you think he's going to do this time?" Yeji snickers next to you on the makeshift dance floor of the house's backyard. Ever since her brother disappeared, she's been staying in the human world combing through every inch of Seoul and trying to retrace what is little known of the steps he took. Naturally, you've stuck to each other like glue since she arrived. "It's been two hours since this party started and all he's doing is—"
"Flirt with every human on the dance floor. I know, that's why I'm not looking over my shoulder. I think that's all he's planning to do in this party, given that we've started with the test." You frown, taking a sip of your beer as the song changes to a more lively one. "This guy's never taken any exam back in school seriously but now he suddenly wants to win this one exam. Weird, right?"
"Hm, maybe he really wants to win this exam and become high king. You can never really tell what goes on in that head of his." Yeji shrugs, blinking twice in quick succession to make her eyes turn red, an indication that she's scanning the venue for the humans' ecures. "Anyway, he's definitely working hard. I see a lot of orange hearts for him as much as there are for you."
Only then do you also turn your head around the place, your own eyes turning blue as you collect the orange hearts of infatuation and green hearts of friendship that people you've met tonight have for you with a non-verbal spell. As you catch these little crystal hearts into your locket, you briefly catch a glimpse of Jisung at one of the foldable tables chatting with three human girls. It somehow irritates you.
"He never lost that cringey fuckboy persona, huh?" Yeji points out once you're done with your collecting, shaking her now empty bottle and frowning once she realizes that it's already empty. "I guess I didn't miss out on much even after being away for a few weeks."
"You talk like you were gone for a year, not 3 weeks." You laugh. When she then asks you if you want to get new beer bottles, you follow her back to the coolers behind Chan's DJ set. "I hate how we'll be seeing more of those again when we start attending uni to collect more hearts."
"Oh, right! You're attending mine, right? You'll be with me, Seungmin, and Ryujin?" When you nod once more, she links her arms with yours and adds, “Gosh, I can just see it now, girls from the different departments flocking the two of you on the first day but especially Sung. A lot of girls I know from uni really dig that e-boy thing he has going on."
You pretend to gag, making her throw her head back in a cackle of laughs. "Humans and their weird tastes in men." You scrunch up your nose, the two of you briefly pausing to politely wave at Chan as you pass by his booth.
Your cousin doesn't hesitate to wave back at you both before going back to his spinning. You and Yeji then head to the back of his area where the coolers of different beverages have been placed.
"Oh shush, didn't you too also have a crush on him way back then?" Yeji teases the moment the two of you are alone again, opening the cooler with a simple flick of her hand. You follow along despite the glare you send her way, your empty beer bottles getting replaced by new ones. "Sometimes, Ryujin and I like to think that you still have a little bit of that."
"No way." You shake your head in denial, picking up a bottle opener from one of the closed coolers and using it over yours and Yeji's. "Middle school was a long time ago. Jisung just irritates the hell out of me now."
"Who irritates who now?" A voice behind you perks up almost immediately, causing you to jump and spill a little of your beer on the grass. When you glance over your shoulder, Jisung's white bucket hat comes into your vision, eventually uncovering his mischievous smile. "Ah, so clumsy. Look, you spilled a little beer on the grass.”
Next to you, Yeji giggles behind her hand while greeting Jisung. You glare at her in response.
"You're annoying." You point out with a pout, thrusting the bottle opener to his chest before linking arms with Yeji. "We're going."
Jisung only shrugs with a smirk, waving goodbye to Yeji as the two of you pass by him to go back to the dance floor. "It makes you look, doesn't it?"
"Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that." You roll your eyes before disappearing back into the crowd with Yeji.
Once Jisung is out of earshot, Yeji then nudges your side with your linked arms. "I'm telling you, there's still a little something. Deep, deep down there." She teases in a singsong. “That’s probably why the banter just won’t die out.”
"Nope, definitely not." You shake your head. "Have you been watching too much of those human dramas while you’re here? It’s playing with your judgement."
-
It comes even as a surprise to Jisung himself that he hasn't caused a major mishap in this welcoming party so far. Since the majority of the guests started arriving two hours ago, he hasn't done anything troubling besides losing to Ryujin at beer pong and finishing a whole red cup of Chan's jungle juice concoction as punishment almost an hour ago.
It doesn't bother his "instincts for mischief" that much—his mentor's words not his. It means that he's more focused on collecting ecures at the moment with the amount of humans he's mingled with at this party, especially the girls who have taken it upon themselves to flirt with him.
What does bother him slightly, however, is the way you occasionally glance over to him knowingly from across the lawn, as if you're expecting him to do something. You always seem to do that after years of getting roped into his troubles, much like a lot of your childhood friends who'd frequently end up in similar predicaments. Somehow, however, it's always intimidating when it's you looking at him. He personally hates that, the look in your eyes when you're trying to catch him in his mischievous acts.
"Who are you and what have you done to my twin brother?" Felix has been teasing the entire night every time he encounters Jisung. When Jisung pouts this time, while the two share a drink on a couch that was brought out for this party, Felix laughs over his drink and adds, "Oh, so you're really focused on this test, huh? No trouble until this party's over?"
"Why do you guys think I'm not?" Jisung frowns, elbowing his brother by his side. "Geez, Lix, you're supposed to root for me here. If I win, you get to be king too."
In response, Felix waves his solo cup dismissively. "No, no, I think you're doing great! You've caught how much already? Twenty hearts in this party? That's a great start, bro." He comments with a proud smile. "It's just a little new, seeing you all so serious and focused. It's not because you're up against Y/N, right?"
"Ha? Nope, definitely not. It's barely a competition when I'm clearly winning." Jisung shakes his head a little too defensively as he sinks into the soft velvet couch. "I just think it's natural that another kingdom should get the high crown this time and since it's only me and Y/N competing, unless we also find Hyunjin while we're here I should work hard and make it happen."
Just then, Seungmin sits down on his other side with a cup of punch and a small paper plate of sweets from the chocolate fountain. "If Hyunjin was here, he would've whipped your asses in this party by getting all of the human guys and girls with one smile." He points out matter-of-factly. "Plus, if Lia accepted the candidacy, all three of you would've lost even before you left home."
"You never really rooted for me, huh, Minnie?" Jisung feigns sad eyes as he rests his head on Seungmin's shoulder. "And here I thought we're best friends."
"Oh no, I'm totally rooting for you now." Seungmin replies with a dry chuckle, passing his paper plate over to Felix when he holds his hands out in a motion asking for food. "But if the gang was complete, I would've changed to team Hyunjin."
Jisung scoffs at this, swiping a marshmallow covered in chocolate from Seungmin's plate. "Fine, I won’t hold it against you. I miss Hyunjin too."
"Yeji and Chae are doing everything they can to look for him. He'll turn up somewhere, he just has to. Until then, you should just focus more on your exam. Hyunnie would want that." Felix quips in before turning his attention over to you and Yeji at the nearby karaoke mini bar. "Look, that's what Y/N and Yeji are doing right now."
When Jisung looks through the crowd that has gathered around you, his eyes turning a deep green, he sees a lot of orange hearts gravitate over to you, mostly from the uni boys and girls that Yeji, Seungmin, and Ryujin have invited to this party.
"You guys are seeing it too, right?" Felix asks, his own eyes a matching shade of green when he tilts his head over to Seungmin and Jisung. "At least twenty new hearts in a span of 10 minutes, right after they just gave Y/N a bunch of green hearts."
Seungmin nods, his head movements making Jisung's head shake a little on his shoulder. "Yeah. Y/N's really working extra on this." He notes in complete awe. "The competition's really close, don't you think so Lix?"
"Definitely. What do you think, Ji?"
"Nope, definitely not." Jisung crosses his arms and shakes his head in disagreement. "It's impressive but not enough to catch up to me."
But the smallest hint of a frown gracing his features is enough to give his feelings away to his friends. Only now does it fully sink in that it’s definitely a tight competition between the two of you.
one out of six months
At one point, you understood why people would foolishly fall for Jisung. On a really good day, when he's not causing you or anyone too much trouble, you could see his playful side as charming, maybe even too cute for you to admit it out loud. A long time ago, back when you were still so naïve, you had a small playground crush on him too, after all; a crush that ended so badly you're convinced it's where your bickering naturally escalated.
But now, as your days in the human world turn into a month spent fulfilling your Crown Candidacy exam at university with your friends, you just wish that not a lot of humans are so insanely attracted to Jisung. It's nothing personal, of course, you're not jealous at all in that way. Whenever you sit in the library to study, attend classes from late in the morning to early afternoons, or even just sit in the quad with your shared friend group discussing updates on Yeji's search for Hyunjin, however, your competitor is just always being followed by flocks of smitten girls with their orange and pink ecures of crushes on their sleeves, ready to be collected by Jisung's emerald ring.
And you're not going to get started on the rainbow-colored hearts that send him little gifts and love letters at least once a week before classes, sometimes even directly to Chan's house where the third kitchen fridge is now filled with bakery goods stashed along with Chan's fan gifts. Not wanting to admit it to him or any of your friends, you're admittedly quite jealous because he attracts the ecures from the humans so easily while you have to work extra harder in socializing with your human peers to garner even just pink hearts. You hate having to work extra, extra harder just to be on par with him all the time, especially when he seems to be effortless in his ways.
"Before Lix went back to the magical realm, he relayed that Changbin from back home suggested that we start expanding our search for Hyunjin to—" For the sixth time since your group met up at the quad after classes this particular afternoon, another group of girls pass by and greet Jisung, interrupting Yeji in her explanations. Pouting slightly, she then turns to Jisung and pokes him with her pen, snapping the smirk off of his face. "Sung, focus."
Jisung nods quickly, waving Yeji's pen away from his side. "Yeah, let me just collect their hearts real quick."
You roll your eyes in response, nudging Yeji to resume her updates. "Just go on, Yeji." You encourage her, Seungmin and Ryujin nodding along in agreement. For emphasis, you make sure to tap Jisung's hand on the grass with your own pen harshly, making him wince dramatically in pain. "You're extending the search to Incheon, right?"
"Oh, uh yeah. Like I said, Lix said that Changbin suggested Incheon since Hyunjin briefly mentioned it in one of his letters. We'll start looking into it ourselves before this semester is over." Yeji continues on, ignoring the next group of passing girls that Jisung gets distracted over again this time around. "Chaeryoung is going there in the following months, though, to scout the places first. Then, we'll try and follow up with a search of our own. I'll have to ask Chan and the jury back at home if you and Jisung are allowed to go, though, since you're taking your exam."
"Among those places, Hyunjin often went to this stretch of the beach because he was investigating a monster from home who escaped here and took an artifact from our kingdom." Seungmin added, pointing to a location on Yeji's map sprawled over your laptops at the very center of your circle. "It was one of his last assignments here before he suddenly disappeared. We'll probably stay here the longest."
You try your best to listen, adding your own inputs to how your search operations would go while also noticing a couple of people who recognize you and wave your way, but Jisung somehow keeps grabbing your attention by the way he entertains his admirers who greet him shyly as they pass by you group. The playful smirks he sends their way, the polite waves, and the way his hand keeps twitching in between the two of you as he collects the ecures with his own spell keep eating away at your attention span, pressuring you that he's taking the lead in your race.
You also try discreetly collecting your own share of hearts under your breath whenever someone you know passes by but you eventually find it hard finding people while trying to listen to your friends. "Ji, focus." You mumble under your breath after a while, breaking his focus as he collects two more orange hearts.
"Y/N, keep up with me here." He smirks, just as the orange hearts disappear into his ring. "Why are you so distracted by me, anyway? Jealous?"
"I’m not jealous!”
"Guys focus." Ryujin snaps at the two of you this time, chuckling in amusement when you and Jisung both glare at her. "Hey, easy on the stink eyes. I'm just telling you two to listen over here."
"Do as I do, Ryujin, and just tune them out." Seungmin jabs nonchalantly as he and Yeji take down notes of their discussion, not even once looking up at you nor Jisung. "It works out splendidly once you've mastered it."
"Hearing them bicker over random things before was one thing. Hearing them bicker over ecures now is a whole new playing field." Ryujin smirks, particularly to you. "Ah, you guys sound even more like a married couple now that you're competing. Tsk, tsk..."
"No, we're not!" You and Jisung answer in chorus, looking incredulously at each other after. "Ya!"
"Seungmin's right. Just tune them out, Ryujin." Yeji points out without missing a beat, a small smile taking out the initial annoyance from her face. "Anyway, what's important is we settle our plans first. Let the married couple race for the crown."
"Ya! Hwang Yeji!" You scold, flinging your notebook towards her which she dodges swiftly. "I'm listening, I swear."
Yeji gives you a look of mock disbelief in response before chuckling and going back to her work. "Whatever you say."
-
Jisung won’t admit it to any of you nor his friends’ faces but he may be just a little jealous that you’re catching onto him at a great speed and looking surprisingly nonchalant about it on the outside. You work extremely hard, that’s a given and Jisung respects that as much as the two of you annoy each other. But he doesn’t even have to sneak over to your room at night and check your locket for your ecure count; the boys and girls from uni, the market where Chan forces the two of you to run errands on weekends, and even at Ryujin’s favorite skate park who always take two glances your way wherever you go are enough giveaway to the amount you’re collecting everyday. And it’s a whole lot of hearts. He won’t even be surprised if you’ve managed to collect 300 hearts by now.
And he’s not even going to get started on how fast you manage to take ecures from the same people twice in less than a week, managing to charm same-age neighbors and classmates from good friends to secret admirers in a span of a few days and getting you at least twice the amount for your tally. You have enough hearts on your locket to keep up with Jisung’s count and use your magic leisurely at home. You definitely keep your competitor up on his toes all the time with how you’re giving your all in this competition and it’s gnawing at him to do even better.
What annoys him on top of this, however, are certain kinds of people that look your way, or even Yeji’s and Ryujin’s for that matter. When the three of you aren’t looking and a bunch of passing jocks would eye you weirdly on the quad or at the library, especially since you’re new to the school, his natural instinct is to glare them down until they’re looking away. He sees their purple ecures from where he would sit across from you as you study, a sign of a lusting kind of feeling, and it does nothing but to tick him off into intimidating them until the color fades out.
Seungmin thinks that, in a way, this is cheating and that you’d probably think the same way if you find out since purple ecures are ranked quite high in the tally, just above pink hearts (”Y/N’s gotten mad at you before for going too far or breaking the rules. You, of all people, should know not to get on their bad side.”). When Jisung writes to Felix back home after, however, his twin naturally defends him and says that he’s just looking out for you.
“You guys don’t always see eye to eye, even now that you’re competing against each other,” Felix recorded over the enchanted mail that arrived after your meeting at the quad, Jisung and Seungmin separating from your group to do some more studying at the library. “but you’re just looking out for Y/N and protecting them from any weirdos, like for Ryujin and Yeji. Just tone it down a bit and let them handle it sometimes.”
“See? Lix thinks I’m doing something right.” Jisung sticks his tongue out at Seungmin who simply shakes his head in stubborn disagreement before returning back to his class notes. “I’m telling you, I’m not sabotaging Y/N on purpose.”
“Still, whether they want to collect those purple ecures or not is not your choice to make.” Seungmin points out. Though he agrees with Jisung’s intentions, as he’s been doing the same and looking out for you and your friends in his own ways as well, he also trusts that you can take care of yourself. “Just let them handle it next time, unless they actually do need your help.”
“But—“
“Consider the guys that passed by at the quad the last time you’ll mess with Y/N’s ecures.” “You saw that?!”
Still, it gnaws on Jisung’s conscience when he takes the train home with you later that day, when another purple heart springs up for you as he checks your surroundings and finds it to be from a stranger. What a creep, Jisung cringes internally with disgust before strategically blocking the man out from your sight and standing closer to you, Y/N’s competition but I’m a decent being! Be the bigger person or whatever bullshit.
“Ya, what are you doing?” You push him away with your index finger to his stomach, leaving a bigger gap between the two of you as you stand on the moving train. “Ji, personal space.”
“We’re literally cramped in this train like canned sardines, Y/N. I’m just trying to make space for the people coming in.” Jisung fibs in retort, unknowingly timing his words perfectly with the train making a stop and justifying his next action of taking a step closer to you. This time, he makes sure that he’s towering over you and blocking the creep behind him completely by moving his hand over to the train handle right next to where your hand is. “Don’t make it weird!”
Your expression is surprisingly unwavering now, clearly unamused by his boyish quips. “You’re the one making it weird! You keep hovering over me.”
“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” He rolls his eyes, instinctively steadying you with one hand when the abrupt movements of the train pushes you slightly forwards. “Oops, careful there.”
When Jisung takes one last glance at the creep and finds him still looking over your general direction, the boy finally snaps and sends a little spell over the man’s way, one that makes him itch all over and ties his shoelaces together. This is the last time, Jisung swears to himself with a chuckle under his breath, oh what the hell? Punishing creeps is kinda funny.
two out of six months
The first time Han Jisung spots a red heart that he can collect, it’s 2 months into your candidacy exam and he makes the surprising decision to prolong collecting it by several days. It’s not that Soonyoung from your Math class is aware of this. As far as she knows, Jisung is simply stringing her along much like he does with every other girl he’s flirting with and she doesn’t seem to mind this fact.
But you mind, you and your other friends do a lot. “It’s a powerful heart and costs 5000 points on the point system.” Seungmin even noted himself once on another day that Jisung left your class without Soonyoung’s crystal red heart. You mostly agree on this, coupled with the fact that you can’t steal the heart for yourself to gain more points in the race since it’s not for you. “Just take it, it’s not going to get any higher than that.”
No matter how much you or any of your friends nag, however, Jisung simply lets the days pass doing nothing much about it besides entertain Soonyoung whenever the girl approaches. As his sole competitor in your candidacy exam, you visibly feel the most frustrated out of everyone else by each passing day, especially at the thought that you yourself haven’t managed any red hearts yet.
“It is weird, very not like him but also a bit like him if that makes sense?” Ryujin notes by the 10th day, after you recounted Math class to her as you take a short break together. Today, Jisung agreed to go to lunch with Soonyoung, only to tell you and Seungmin that even then he’s not going to take her heart today. “I mean knowing what happened between you two in middle sch—”
You immediately shake your head before she could even finish her thought, “No, I don’t think that has anything to do with now. Definitely not.”
“It’s not like that! I meant to say that this is even worse than when you had a crush on Jisung. The girl’s ecure is as red as red could go!” Ryujin exclaims, forcing you to cover her mouth with your hand just as Soonyoung and Jisung comically pass by your table at the kiosk to eat lunch together. Slowly prying your hands off once the pair in question are out of earshot, Ryujin then leans over the table and continues, “But even then, he’s not taking it to gain momentum in your exam. Aren’t you a little bit curious why?”
You hesitantly shrug, “I mean, a little...but honestly I think he’s just being stupid. If I were him, I won’t string the girl along, not for this long anyway. It’s a waste of time and effort when he can just pick up the heart and reject her carefully.”
“Then, maybe he has his reasons. If you know about it, you might get an advantage!” Yeji speaks up this time, joining your table late with a huge pile of library books on top of her laptop bag in her hands. As much as this girl has been busy looking for her brother, she also keeps up with her human world cover surprisingly well even when she doesn’t have to with all the studying that she does on the side. “One way to find out, right? I heard Felix’s not that busy these days back home.”
You feign a frown at the two girls agreeing in unison, especially at Yeji as she takes out her phone from the magical realm. “You know, you’re really good at sticking your head into a lot of things even when you’re busy looking for your brother.” You note dryly, making Yeji laugh while dialling Felix’s phone on the other side. “That was sarcastic, Yeji.”
“I’m a great multitasker.” She winks before placing her phone at the center of your table then scooting her chair closer to you and Ryujin, effectively hiding the odd-looking device that projects Felix’s face almost immediately. “Hey Lix!”
“Hi Lix!” You politely greet along with Ryujin anyway, waving to the small projection of the prince on Yeji’s phone. By the faint greenery that surrounds him, you immediately assume that he’s back at home and tending to his personal garden.
“I’m not in trouble, am I?” The younger Eastern prince jokes, greeting the three of you individually after. “What’s up? Seungmo and Sungie not with you three today?”
“Seungmin got held back in class today for a TA offering and your brother’s on a date! Can you believe it? A lunch date with a human girl!” Yeji explains a little too excitedly, you and Ryujin immediately shushing her up. Giggling, the princess continues anyway, “Which is why we called! We just thought it’s a little weird that Jisung’s not trying to catch this red heart when it’s a clear advantage to his tally and maybe you’d know why.”
All the while Yeji explains your purpose for calling, you slowly observe how Felix’s own expression morphs into that of genuine surprise. “What? He hasn’t taken it?!” He exclaims in response after Yeji finishes speaking. “Are you sure? That’s not very like him.”
“Well, why do you think he hasn’t taken it, then?” You suddenly find yourself asking this time, earning you incredulous looks from your peers. Brushing them off, you simply glance over at Felix as he tries thinking of a reason himself.
“Maybe he still can’t reject admirers for shit.” Ryujin snickers under her breath, making you elbow the girl harshly on her side.
But surprisingly, Felix nods absentmindedly to this. “Maybe…”
“Are you seriously agreeing with that, Lix?” You frown. “I think he’s just up to no good.”
“Hey, Ji can act weird and not be up to trouble too, you know.” Felix pouts back. “But honestly, I don’t know why he’s not thinking of taking it either, especially knowing how he’s so proud of getting to receive it alone. Maybe he likes this person, who knows?”
The thought feels so foreign to you, Jisung genuinely liking someone, especially knowing what he did when you were much younger. But when you glance over to your friends, you also notice the same confused looks on their faces.
“Han Jisung...liking someone? Enough to respect their feelings?” Ryujin muses out loud before eventually shaking her head. “Nope, sounds weird. Dangerous! Alien! Y/N, have you been noticing any other weird things from your housemate lately? Maybe he’s been secretly abducted by aliens!”
“Oh stop it, Ryujin! Whatever it is my brother’s planning, I trust that he at least has an idea what he’s doing.” Felix sighs, running a hand through his blonde locks. In the background of his end, the faint voice of Changbin beckoning him over momentarily catches his attention. “If he’s being stupid again, then just let him be. If he does like this person, though, I just hope that he treads carefully while he’s at it. You know how precious witch ecures are.”
“Oh, I know…” You murmur under your breath as you scrunch up your nose, unconsciously glancing over to Jisung and Soonyoung’s table where the two are laughing over something you can’t hear from across the room. When Changbin’s voice grows louder on Felix’s end, you then smoothly steer the topic to a close, “Anyway, sorry for bothering you at this time. Bin’s calling for you.”
Next to you, Ryujin and Yeji agree with nods and smiles as Felix waves his free hand dismissively at this. “No, it’s okay! Just look out for my brother, yeah? I gotta go, Queen Lia just arrived for tea with me and my mom!”
“Oh, then we’ll see you!” “Have fun at tea!” “Say hi to Lia for us!”
Felix waves one last goodbye before ending the call. As his image disappears from Yeji’s phone, the princess is quick to pocket her phone back and turn to you with a raised brow, “So, what do you think? Even Lix finds it weird.”
Personally, you think it’s odd. The thought that Jisung could easily be developing feelings for someone while taking your exam, to someone human no less. You’ll probably never admit it to him but he’s been working hard in collecting hearts up to this point and you know him enough to know that he won’t let himself get distracted with something like this. “What is he planning exactly?”
-
You’re giving Jisung that look again, through the boy’s reflection on the bus mirror no less as the two of you head to Chan’s studio where he has promised the two of you dinner. The same look you kept giving him during your welcome party just last month, probably without you knowing, rests on your tired features as you listen to music on your phone and rest your cheek against your propped up hand on the window seat you almost threw him out of the bus for. What did I do now? The boy can’t help but whine pitifully to himself as he steals another glance at your direction while scrolling through his phone.
Jisung helplessly rakes his brain for anything that he’s done today that could’ve possibly pissed you off while pretending to look down on his phone, missing the way you shift uncomfortably in your seat as if you were going to ask a question.
“So—” “I meant to ask—”
Jisung’s immediately closes his mouth shut when the two of you speak at the same time, eyes widening when he looks up and sees you already looking over at him directly. Simultaneously, you’re quick to look away from him and cough awkwardly, quietly mumbling out that Jisung speaks first. “Go ahead.”
“What did I do this time?” Jisung immediately goes for it, pouting and sinking into his seat for extra emphasis. This visibly surprises you by the way your eyes widen slightly and you visibly freeze in front of him. “You’ve been glaring at me from the window since it started getting dark outside and it’s starting to get annoying but I’m too tired from today to think of everything that I did today to pinpoint where I ticked you off again.”
Your lips curl down to a frown and you bring your propped up arm back to your side, sinking down your own seat to his level. “I wasn’t glaring at you!”
“Yes you were—” “—No, I wasn’t!” “Yes you—”
“Okay, then, if I was glaring at you like you said, it’s because I meant to ask you something.” You huff before shyly looking away, gazing out of the window again. “W-Why haven’t you...whyhaventyoutakenthatgirlsheart?”
Now, Jisung is even more confused than ever from not understanding a word you just said. Raising a curious brow, the prince nudges you by your shoulder with his own until you look back at him again, uttering a slow, “What?!”
You inhale slowly, as if holding your embarrassment in, before repeating, “Why haven’t you taken Soonyoung’s heart?”
“I—really? That’s what you wanted to ask?” That’s it? So I didn’t do shit? Whew...
You nod, crossing your arms and looking away. “Well, don’t act so smug now! I’m just curious, it’s powerful and worth a lot of points, after all.”
Caught off-guard, it takes Jisung a worryingly long time to answer your question. He looks down on his phone first, with his emerald ring right next to it, before glancing over to the distant LED screen at the very front of the bus, announcing the next stop. “Just because…” He trails off with a reluctant shrug, avoiding the feeling of your curious gaze. If it were any other situation, maybe involving a lower-ranking heart like a yellow, green, or even an orange one, he would be laughing at you and teasing that you’re obsessed with his count or trying to compare it with your own. “You, of all people should know…”
But it’s a red heart, one that’s made him a bit too flustered for him to admit to anyone, even to his own brother. “I don’t know what I’ll do with it.” He answers vaguely because of this, hearing a little ‘oh’ from your side. “I already told Soonyoung over lunch that I don’t see her like that but it’s still red. Her feelings are too sincere for me and I feel like I can’t take advantage of that, not for a competition.”
Jisung doesn’t hear any verbal response from your side after this, not even when the LED screen ahead announces that you’re nearing your stop. When he glances over to you through the window, however, he catches a glimpse of the smallest hint of a content smile on your features.
Only when the two of you arrive at your stop, while you’re following him down the stairs down from the bus, do you nudge him on his side once more and say, “I guess that’s sweet of you. Plus, you’re actually using your head for once.”
Your soft smile momentarily catches him off-guard, freezing him on the sidewalk, until a passerby brushes him by his shoulder and snaps him back to reality. “Y-Ya! What’s that supposed to mean?!”
You wave your hand dismissively at him with a laugh, running off ahead to Chan’s studio. “Last one to the studio is a lousy runner and won’t get dessert!”
“Hey! Y/N! What’s that supposed to mean? Did you just call me stupid?!”
-
The next day, a ‘secret admirer’ leaves a red apple, a milk box, and an unsigned heart-shaped note on your usual table as you enter Math class. Though the note has your name and its message typed and printed, a simple nonverbal spell that you cast over the gifts reveal a familiar fingerprint.
“So, who’s it from?” Jisung asks, swiftly swiping the apple from your table and taking a huge bite. “How many points are we looking at here?”
You scoff at his action, taking the apple for yourself and biting on the opposite side. “It’s from Soonyoung.” You answer with a mischievous smile, causing your competitor to choke. When you glance over at the girl’s table, your eyes briefly turn blue to see a pinkish heart for you. “I guess you don’t want her red heart, huh? Mind if I make a pink one from her into a red for me?”
Jisung coughs violently, thumping his fist against his chest as he recovers. “Y-Ya! Don’t you dare!”
three out of six months
One thing you’ve been most looking forward to in this Crown Candidacy exam, besides seeing your cousin and friends currently staying in the human world and helping with Hyunjin’s search, is getting to see your cousin’s boyfriend again. Though the rest of your family doesn’t really approve of Minho, mostly since he’s the reason why Chan renounced his duke title in the first place and why your cousin might be permanently tied to the human world in the future, you’ve taken a liking to the guy since you first met him on a short visit 2 years ago and have been looking forward to hanging out in person once more after a long while.
Minho makes Chan the happiest you’ve ever seen him since you were kids, cooks really well, travels the world as a performing artist, and is totally cool with the idea that his boyfriend is a wizard from another realm. Plus, he catches onto magical items really quick, having adapted quickly to using your realm’s inter-world mailing system hence how you’ve been keeping in touch up until this point. You honestly don’t see any reason to hate him, even before meeting him in person. If anything, knowing that it’s Minho that’s keeping Chan from fulfilling his royal duties makes you support your cousin’s decision even more than before.
However, you’re already halfway done with your exam and Minho is still nowhere to be seen. He initially promised you that he’ll cook you and Jisung a meal as soon as you arrived but last-minute plans in his touring schedule with a ballet company held him back abroad, postponing this plan indefinitely and making you focus more on school and helping look for Hyunjin.
That is until you and Jisung came home from your usual Saturday grocery errands to inhale the smell of meat and mushroom soup coming from the kitchen.
“Is Chan cooking?” Jisung raised a brow at this, closing the door behind you and walking further inside the house. “It smells nice, though. So it’s not him?”
You roll your eyes, biting down a laugh at this surprisingly funny quip. “That’s definitely not Chan.” You affirm anyways, excitedly walking past him to the kitchen where you find the familiar back of a person stirring a big pot of soup next to Chan who’s chopping up side dishes. “Minho!”
Jisung follows you to the kitchen and watches from the doorframe as this said Minho turns around, opening his arms out to hug you as you quickly drop your groceries on the dining table and run towards him. Next to you two, Chan stops his own work and laughs at the sight, prying you away after a moment and reminding you, “Hey, hey, Minho’s tired from his flight!”
“Tired? Then you make him cook dinner? I don’t think so!” You giggle, clutching onto Minho like a koala while the said boy pretends to shrug you off. “I was wondering when you’re coming home! You haven’t even written since I came here, you jerk!”
“My schedule was jam-packed until the other day but I promised some magic freaks that I’ll cook them dinner so I came home as soon as I can.” Minho laughs, hugging you back and only then catching sight of a confused Jisung. “Oh, hi there! You must be Han Jisung?”
“Y-Yeah?” Jisung nods slowly in confusion, raising one hand holding multiple eco-bags up in a wave. He hates it when he’s not in the loop of things but more importantly, he hates it when it’s you keeping him out of the loop in particular. Who’s this guy?! “Sorry, and you are?”
“Lee Minho! I’m keeping Chan hostage here on Earth.” Minho formally introduces himself, earning him a nudge from both you and Chan. “What? Should I curtsy? I know your family and Hyunjin’s doesn’t really require it but I don’t know about the others so—”
Oh. At this, Jisung visibly relaxes with a chuckle and finally approaches your little group, settling his own share of the groceries down on the dining table before sitting down himself. Chan then takes this as his cue to reluctantly drag you over next to Jisung while he and Minho finish cooking. “No, no, it’s cool! We’re not at home, anyway.”
“Okay, then, cool. You guys are okay with waiting for a little bit, right? The lamb’s not fully cooked yet.” Minho explains. “I was going to make you two a meal when your exam started but I got caught up in work so—”
“Yeah it’s fine!” You agree eagerly, taking out your groceries and organizing them on the table. “We’ll just fix up the groceries.”
Jisung side-eyes you with an incredulous look in his eyes, something Chan definitely notices as his lips quirk up into a knowing grin before whispering something to Minho. “Why are you so chirpy all of a sudden?” He asks you, helping you take out the groceries and arrange them into their respective shelves.
“What do you mean? I’ve been chirpy since this morning.” You scoff. “Why do you even keep track? I told you not to stare at me, weirdo.”
“Um no, you weren’t. You were complaining about me breathing next to you on the bus a while ago. ‘You’re not helping me get any hearts’ or whatever it was you were rambling about a while back.” Jisung points out with a huff. “And I don’t stare, that’s you! If anything, you’re the weirdo, always up my business!”
“Well, why wouldn’t I complain? I was at the market with you all day! You don’t know how to pick good vegetables and you kept flirting with the store clerks to try and up their orange hearts to pink ones! Then, you wore that stupid perfume again when I told you already that it smells bad! Now we’re at home and you can stay the fuck away from me.”
“Ya, you little sh—”
Across the kitchen, Minho giggles in amusement at hearing you and Jisung bicker live for the first time. You’ve always complained about this Jisung fellow in your correspondence and he’s never had a clear grasp as to why you’re always at this boy’s neck but now that he’s meet Jisung in the flesh and is starting to hear what you two are exactly fighting about, Minho can’t help but laugh into the mushroom soup. “So this is the troublemaker who’s been bugging our Y/N.” He ends up musing out loud. “I see why you need me home now.”
“Believe me, you should’ve seen them grow up together with the other kids. Always fighting over the smallest of things, competing on who’s better, and all that.” Chan rolls his eyes in disinterest, glancing over to you and Jisung as the latter starts chasing you around the dining area with a bundle of scallions. “What you’re seeing right now is barely the tip of the iceberg, Min.”
“Reminds you a little bit of us back then, don’t you think?”
“Ya, and which one am I supposed to be?”
The couple glances over their shoulders to see that you’ve now successfully snatched the scallions from Jisung with your magic and have started to hit him over the head with it. This then makes Chan squint his eyes suspiciously at Minho who only chuckles. “Babe, you and Y/N are definitely related, don’t you think?”
“Do you also want to get hit with scallions?”
-
Though Jisung was initially wary of Minho at the start of the evening, having only heard of him vaguely from gossip among the other royal kids prior, your cousin’s boyfriend slowly and naturally transitioned over the prince’s good graces as soon as the lamb chops and mushroom soup were served along with stories of Minho’s own adventures and questions about the magical realm. Now that he’s put a name and a face to the person that people back home simply referred to as the reason why Chan left (and who he’s admittedly been blaming as well for the sudden shift in your attitude at the royal courts), Jisung now genuinely believes that the people back at home jumped to their conclusions quickly about Minho.
Minho’s really nice, Chan is really fond of him and you clearly support the two. In return, Minho looks out for you and Chan, you in particular as the older guy proceeds to drill Jisung shamelessly with questions on whatever it is that you’ve mentioned about him in your letters.
Jisung didn’t even know a lot of the things Minho kept rambling on about while you tried so hard to keep his mouth shut next to him by helplessly trying to cover his mouth.
“Y/N talks about you a whoooooooole lot. Like, a minor inconvenience during their royal duties then they’re quick to talk to me about it.” Minho grins playfully, dodging your attempts at shutting him up while he eats his share of the pastry dessert. “When we first met and this candidate exam thing was first brought up, they talked about the other royals briefly but they talked about you in super great detail! Oh, and Y/N was rambling a lot about how you reacted to when they confessed to you in middle school and everything, it was so funn—”
“Minho shut up!”
“It was really funny!” Minho pins your wrists to the table after a while, gesturing towards Chan, sitting next to Jisung across the table, who then uses his magic to switch your places. This then effectively shuts you up as your flustered expression overcomes your face upon accidentally locking eyes with Jisung right after. “But I want to know what actually happened when you rejected Y/N at your magic school? I want the full scope of what happened just so I get both sides!”
“Y-Ya!” You protest, only to be silenced by Jisung this time who laughs as he swallows a mouthful of food. “Ugh, you’re enjoying this aren’t you?”
“Why do you still talk about that, anyway? It was a long time ago.” Jisung chuckles, propping an elbow up on the table and resting his cheek on his palm as he glances over to you with a smirk. “God, you’re in love with me, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m no—” “So, Minho hyung, what did Y/N tell you about that?”
-
It was in the 7th grade, on Valentine’s Day of all days even, when you confessed your crush to Han Jisung. You actually didn’t plan any of it to happen because you just thought of it as stupid, especially at the thought that almost everything Jisung used to do back then annoyed you and made you think of him as childish.
But Hyunjin somehow slipped you an enchanted cookie on that day as a prank after you confessed at Ryujin’s party the previous weekend that you thought that Jisung was cute sometimes (”I specifically said sometimes and it was one time. Clearly, it wasn’t me who had a problem, right?” “That still doesn’t change the fact that 12-year-old you had a crush on me, Y/N.”). He told you that it was from a batch Felix made for their baking class, bluffing about its distinct strong vanilla scent as a mistake on the younger Eastern prince’s end.
As it then turned out, however, the cookie was laced with a potion that forcefully exposed the true color that your heart reflected towards Jisung in front of the entire cafeteria while the two of you bickered over some mishap that happened in one of your shared potion classes. Being young as he was as well and feeling embarrassed of all the passersby that looked at you both, Jisung’s fight or flight response made him visibly cringe at seeing the surprisingly pink, bordering red, heart and childishly berated you for it until the potion wore off and your ecure disappeared back into the sleeves of your robes. You ran away crying while Jisung didn’t go to school for the few days that followed in embarrassment.
“You were like 12 back then, it happens.” Minho shrugs after yours and Jisung’s messy storytelling. “And for the record, Y/N, if Chan did that to me as Jisung, I would’ve been annoyed at him too. Your rants are totally valid.”
“I’m eating my croissants in peace.” Chan complains, slapping the younger man’s arm. “Don’t drag me into this.”
Simultaneously, Jisung glances over to you and sees a small pout rest on your features. “Well, I don’t know, it’s not really an ‘it happens’ kind of situation if you come from our world.” You point out, glaring at Jisung when you feel him staring at you. “Especially back then. My heart was looking pink and a little reddish for Jisung at the time—ew—which gave him the power to take it if he wanted to.”
Now, this is apparently new information to Minho as he then asks, “You can do that? I thought witches only have one heart so it can’t be taken away?”
“Yeah, exactly.” You nod. “Since we don’t produce the crystal hearts as infinitely as you humans do, it could only be taken if it’s pink or a higher color. It’s the natural law in our world.”
“And if that happens, the witch could become weak, controlled by the other witch who takes their heart, or killed.” Chan quips in this time. “That’s why marriage is sort of a permanent commitment back at home and witches are more encouraged to use human ecure when performing higher-level magic.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch in our case, though! It’s not like 12-year-old me would think of killing Y/N back then.” Jisung purses his lips into a thin line at you, unamused. “You really are a bit dramatic sometimes, you know? What would I even do with your heart?”
“You were 12, Jisung. Who knows what you were thinking back then...if you were thinking at all.” You retort immediately, turning to Minho again after. “That’s why my family’s a bit wary about you, Min, no offense. With you and Chan in a relationship, he can give up his heart to you but if you don’t reciprocate it by exchanging with one of your own, he might get weak or die.”
This then makes Jisung turn to Minho as well, curious as to what his response would be.
Unfazed, Minho smiles and turns lovingly to his boyfriend. “Then, aren’t you lucky I’m obsessed with you, huh?”
“Really now?” Chan chuckles, slinging his arm over Minho’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Then I guess I can stay here permanently, right?”
You pretend to gag as you sip on your water, reminding the older guys that there are “children” in front of them. Jisung rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair at this scene, looking away at the tender display of affection across the table. The two of you don’t even have to check how the pair’s ecures reflect towards each other with your magic to know that they’re a matching bright red.
When he looks over to you, he catches the briefest and fondest smile gracing your expression as you mumble about how “stupidly cute” Chan and Minho are being. Jisung knows he shouldn’t look, not in this moment when he sees you at a vulnerable state and you would slap him over the head if he teases you about it, but his eyes unconsciously turn green and peeks over at your ecure as it watches over your favourite cousin and his boyfriend.
It’s a bright blue, a sign of deep respect and familial love for Chan and Minho. Jisung looks away immediately when you glance up at him curiously, forcing his eyes back to their natural color before he could accidentally see how your heart reflects to him. “What?”
He gets it now. Why you’ve been so uptight in fulfilling your royal duties, snapping just a little more easily these days whenever he annoys you, and acting like a pushover to the elders who keep ordering you around back at home. You’ve been shouldering a lot of the responsibilities back home, both yours and the ones that Chan has left behind, all because you want your cousin to be happy in this world without worries.
“Why were you looking at me?” You pout. “You didn’t check my—ya, Han Jisung!”
“I wasn’t looking at you like that! I was gonna ask you to pass me the cream puffs!”
You begrudgingly pass him the bowl of cream puffs, rolling your eyes before smiling at Minho and Chan again and changing the conversation to something else. “Anyway, Minho, you’re staying longer now, right?”
-
“I saw what you did at dinner, by the way. Y/N would beat you to a pulp if they knew you were looking into their heart, especially since we were just talking about it.” Chan speaks up after a moment of walking around Jisung’s room, tidying up the fallen music sheets on the ground and closing the curtains for the night. You’ve long stolen Minho from your cousin right after dinner hours ago to binge his tour videos and so he’s resorted to hanging out with Jisung, playing video games until the clock struck midnight.
Jisung pouts as he tucks himself away in bed, turning to his side to face Chan as the older boy continues arranging his “messy” work table. “I looked at how it reflects for you and Minho, not at how it looks at me. Just that, swear.” He clarifies in between protesting over Chan’s actions (��It’s an organized mess!” “It’s a mess, Jisung.”) “It’s almost like your family’s sapphire when it looks at the two of you, bluer than how it looks when Y/N’s with the King and the High Queen. You’re more family to them than their own parents.”
This effectively freezes Chan in place for a moment, a small smile gracing the former duke’s features. “Of course I know that.” He replies, almost as an inaudible mumble from across the room. “That’s why it was so hard to leave at first.”
“Then why did you—?”
“Because Y/N told me to.” Moving to the door and preparing to leave, Chan sees Jisung’s face and continues, “Believe me, I was even more conflicted than you’re being right now back then. We both know that my own siblings are too young to shoulder the job I’ll leave behind but Y/N told me that they’ll gladly handle it if it meant that I can be happy here. We argued about it a lot, I kept telling them that I can just juggle moving between the two realms, but you know how persuasive and stubborn Y/N can be.”
The last comment makes Jisung chuckle. Of all people, he should know of it the best. “It’s just hard to argue with them.” He nods in agreement. “I heard they’re the one who got you this house and everything.”
Chan nods, slowly putting one foot out of the door. “Y/N cares a lot, sometimes a little too much, that they end up sacrificing a lot and putting their own feelings last because of it. Since I went away, I’ve only ever been worried that they’ll just explode one day, actually, but I know you and the other kids keep them in check.”
“I’d hardly call Y/N relaxed with me.” Jisung pouts, fiddling with his fingers nervously as he confesses this shyly. “I think they just find me annoying…”
“Oh you definitely annoy each other but that’s just how you two are together. It’s all in good fun and that’s good, especially now that you’re going to take much more responsibilities once you go back home.” Chan notes with a shrug, briefly glancing over his shoulder as you and Minho arrive on the second floor. “Just be a little gentler with them. Night, Sung.”
four out of six months
You know better than to expect nothing less from Lee Chaeryoung, one of the best investigators from your realm, as she helped Yeji lead Hyunjin’s search party. When you initially expected that she would finish scouting Incheon before the end of the semester, she came back with the most solid lead that anyone’s picked up since the start of the search party around Seoul with 2 months left on your time in the human world.
Apparently, from the scouring she’s done beyond the initial parameters of the search, a few magic and non-magic folk living around the beach area have seen the Southern kingdom’s prince at a party on the night he disappeared, interacting with a strange group of people they only described by their unusually white hairs, matching snake tattoos, and icy blue eyes. What was even more interesting is that these people were still around the area when Chaeryoung visited but without any sign of Hyunjin. With this, she could only confirm that they’re also from the magical realm.
“They could only be Northwestern ogre witches, I’m sure of it.” Chan commented after hearing Chaeryoung’s report over dinner with everyone present. When Minho then asked about it, your cousin didn’t hesitate to explain, “A group of witches back home who were initially banished to the wastelands because they practiced darker arts and only collected black ecures. Lately, a lot of them have been turning up here and doing gods-know-what.”
“But if they only want the artifact that Hyunjin recovered, why would they still keep him?” You ask, crossing your arms over the dining table as Chaeryoung showed you photos of the location she ascouted on her phone. “Hyunjin’s high-profile too, yes, but unless they want him to collect colored ecures for them, there’s no other reason to keep him captive when there are other magic folk there. Why him?”
“Unless they have something bigger up their sleeves.” Seungmin notes with a frown, closing Chaeryoung’s phone as he grows more and more upset from across the table. When you and Jisung glance over to him curiously, he then meets your eyes and adds, “Maybe we shouldn’t let you two go with us on this.”
“What?! Why?” Jisung is the first to instinctively speak up against this, sitting up taller in his seat. You echo the same question, albeit a little quieter when you see Chan nodding worriedly on your side.
“I have a feeling that they might be after the two of you too from this.” Seungmin explains once Jisung calmed down a bit from his sudden outburst. “Like Y/N said, keeping Hyunjin to collect colored ecures against his will doesn’t seem like a good enough reason, at least not this long.”
“It’s timed perfectly, too, that they caught Hyunjin right before the candidacy exam.” Yeji quips in, belatedly nodding in agreement to Seungmin’s suggestion. “They might be luring you two specifically by using my brother.”
“But that’s just a hunch for now! We don’t know th—”
Chan’s entire disposition in a flash, slamming his hand down on the table a little too loudly and effectively shutting everyone up around the table including Minho. “That’s exactly why we can’t risk it.” He counters firmly and you know, just by the tone of your cousin’s voice, that he already has the final word. “Remember, you and Y/N are here first and foremost because you’re taking your exam. Keeping you on wraps with this search is formalities, at most. Anyway, there’s enough of us here who can look for Hyunjin. You two just stay put until we can sort this out and ensure that this problem stops interfering with the exam any further.”
When you peek over to your right to glance at Jisung’s reaction two seats away, you see him glancing back at you from the corner of his eyes before sighing in defeat. “And if they want our group separated?”
“The house’s enchanted with protective spells. Minho and Ryujin will also stay and watch over you two while we extract Hyunjin over the weekend.” Chan notes, continuing before Jisung could complain further. “That’s final, Ji. We’ll take over from here.”
“Don’t fret too much, Sung.” Seungmin adds comfortingly. “Anyway, if we find Hyunjin, we’ll all stay here for a few days before going back home.”
In response, you hear Jisung slam his back on his seat hard before huffing childishly, glancing over to you as he opens his mouth. Knowing that he’ll throw a fit, you immediately shake your head, forbidding him from doing so. “Fine...” He murmurs under his breath with a sigh, knowing better than to start an argument with one of his best friends at this time. “Just—just bring Hyunjin back quickly.”
Somehow, even when you understand where Chan’s coming from, you also feel somewhat bad for Jisung. You want to see Hyunjin too but your circumstances aren’t exactly favourable to let you be of much help.
-
As much as Jisung used to hate how Chan coddled you, he hates it even more now that the same behavior is directed towards him, especially in situations like this when he wants to actively help in Hyunjin’s search. The circumstances couldn’t have been more unfavorable to him now: the group finding a lead but at a time when he’s participating in an exam that has him more at risk of being targeted by creatures from the magical realm that have strayed to this world.
On top of this, he hates how he can clearly see that you want to see Hyunjin just as much as he and everyone else does but you’re quicker to comply the moment Chan, and eventually even Yeji, put the two of you on house arrest for the weekend while the rest of the group goes to Incheon. It frustrates him to no end that you keep quietly complying to everyone else when you clearly want to do something else. And, as a result, you end up channeling your energy aggressively elsewhere much like today as you spend most of your Sunday cleaning and redecorating around the expansive house with Minho.
“Can’t you two like, tone it down a bit?” Jisung complains for the third time this afternoon as he plays with the music software on Chan’s laptop, lifting his feet off of the coffee table in the living room when Minho passes by with a vacuum before pushing a levitating plant that hovers too close for comfort to his face. Somewhere, Ryujin has retreated outside to the garden in order to tend to more plants. “The house’s going to get thrashed after a while anyway.”
“And why can’t you help clean?” You ask back in retort, fluffing up the pillows next to him as you occasionally glance over your shoulder to make sure that the levitating objects around the room aren’t falling over. “If you’re just going to complain while we’re cleaning here, you can just go up to your room since we’re done upstairs, anyway.”
Jisung pouts, crawling over to the other side of the sofa anyway when you gesture for him to move. “The sunlight’s better here at this time.” He points to the glass windows. “Just finish up quickly already.”
“If you want to get some sun, you can help Ryujin outside.” You poke back, moving over to the sofa across the coffee table. As you move, the hovering plant pots slowly move to where you want to relocate them to, one moving next to the sofa almost hitting Jisung in the face once more with its leaves. “Make yourself useful, Jisung.”
The witch in question scoffs, closing Chan’s laptop and finally planting his feet back on the floor to a stand. Jisung also hates that tone you use when you order him around because it always makes him do whatever you ask without fail. “Fine, I’m going outside.” He grumbles, trudging to the direction of the back door leading outside and making sure to close the door with a loud thud.
Out in the gardens, Ryujin is busy reviving dried up leaves and flowers while a few watering cans go around to water the trees and bushes. Upon seeing Jisung walking down the mini stairs with a pout and furrowed brows, the younger witch can’t help but laugh, “Y/N banished you outside?”
“I’m supposed to help you but you don’t even look like you need help at all.” The prince continues to grumble, setting himself down on a foldable chair and crossing his bare arms over his chest. “If I do help, I might actually kill the plants. You already know how I’m terrible I am at healing magic.”
Ryujin acknowledges with a hum, turning her attention back to Chan’s mini garden of camellias. “Just sunbathe, look around or whatever, I can handle this.” She assures with a smile. “I won’t tell Y/N too, don’t worry.”
“I think I’ll take you up on that looking around thing later.” Jisung sighs, sinking into his seat and closing his eyes. “I’ll nap for now.”
-
“He just does whatever you say, huh?” Minho points out to you as soon as you finish cleaning the living room, tiredly taking up the empty space next to you on the couch with two pillows hugged close to his chest. When you open your mouth to protest, “I know I said it’s amusing when you two bicker over stupid things but it’s actually really nice and quiet when you two reach compromise like this. So peaceful.”
“He just knows when to not mess with me. Don’t exaggerate it.” You scoff at this, pushing Minho away from you as you lift your legs up to the coffee table. “He knows that I feel the need to be busy when I’m on edge like this but he was in the way. The least he could do is either be useful around the house too or just stay out of my sight for a while.”
“Don’t be too worried, I’m sure they’re all being careful and getting to Hyunjin soon.” Minho assures you with a small smile, waving his human world phone in front of you as it displays a flurry of messages from Chan. “If it makes you feel better, your cousin’s been asking me about you and Jisung as much as he’s been updating me of what’s happening.”
You frown at this, making Minho chuckle. “He’s been talking to you but not to me? I’m his cousin!”
“He knows you’re redecorating his house in 50 different styles while you wait for him so he just asks about you through me. Don’t get it twisted, Y/N.” The older boy continues laughing, carefully shoving a pillow away from his face when you levitate it closer to him. “Anyway, they said that they’ve confirmed that the ogres are still staying at the beach resort so they’re planning to get to them tonight and confirm if they really took Hyunjin.”
Your expression visibly shifts more positively, eyes widening and mouth hanging agape. “Really?”
“If things go smoothly, everyone, including Hyunjin, would be home really soon. Until then, Chan has asked me to make sure that you and Jisung don’t kill each other or go outside without permission.”
You shove Minho once more at the last statement, mustering up a laugh this time. “Hey, we’re not that childish.” You point out with a pout before another thought crosses your mind. “Oh, right, I can tell Jisung, right? I mean, it’s just an update anyway.”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Minho nods, poking you on your side to get you to stand up. “It’s also getting dark out, call Ryujin in too so we can reheat some leftovers for dinner.”
You scoff at the thought of leftovers for dinner, standing up anyway and heading outside where the sun has indeed set on the horizon. As you walk down the steps leading down to the backyard, you easily spot Ryujin by the back gate as she flirts with one of your neighbors who holds an orange heart up her sleeve but it takes you a moment to see Jisung fast asleep under one of the outdoor umbrellas.
“Ryujin!” You call for your friend, biting down your lip when the girl she’s been flirting with awkwardly looks away and your friend in question consequently glares at you for interrupting her. “Where’s Jisung?”
“There.” Ryujin quickly points towards the outdoor umbrellas on the far corner of the backyard before turning her gaze back on your neighbor whose heart immediately turns a shy pink at this.
You roll your eyes at this with a chuckle before heading over to Jisung, finding him snoring lightly and snuggling into a pillow despite the cold evening breeze. He doesn’t budge an inch when you call his name or poke his side, stirring only when you slap his cheek gently awake by instinctively swatting your hand away and mumbling a string of curses for you to go away. “What?!”
“It’s starting to get cold out here. Come on, we’re eating dinner in a while.” You respond, taking the pillow from him and grabbing him by the arm to help him stand up. When he doesn’t budge, you resort to adjusting his hoodie at least so he doesn’t freeze himself to death. “Minho also said that Chan’s been texting him. Everyone’s okay so far and they’ll interrogate the ogres tonight, maybe even get Hyunjin if they really took him.”
Jisung finally springs awake at this, jumping to a stand in surprise. “What? Really? Is there—well, is there anything else?” He asks quickly, stumbling over his words in shock while you drag him back inside.
Ryujin follows along after a while, running to the kitchen to check what you’re having for dinner. You and Jisung walk a little slower as he rubs his eyes from his surprisingly long nap next to you, somehow not making a fuss this time about your linked arms.
“Sadly, that’s only what I got from Minho a while back so I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning for anything new.” You answer his previous question as you head to the kitchen where Ryujin and Minho reheat leftovers and make some new side dishes. When you see Jisung’s ears perk up slightly at your words, you quickly add, “Don’t try staying up late just for an update. You should get some more sleep after dinner so you don’t look like a ghost when we see Hyunjin again.”
He scoffs at this, sitting down on the dining table and dragging you along with him on the adjacent seat. “How can I sleep if I know that we’re so close to seeing Hyunjin again after months? I’ll stay up late if I want to!”
“And I’ll kill you two if you stay up all night then get all cranky tomorrow when you have to get to class.” Minho cuts you off before you could even speak, setting the dishes down on the table. “Okay, eat up!”
“That was him, not me.” You shrug at Jisung’s semi-permanent pout with a chuckle, receiving a plate and utensils before thanking Minho for the food. “Eat up, Ji.”
You don’t even have to glance back over to his direction to know that he has his usual determined look plastered over his face again. Because of the new update on Hyunjin’s situation, he’s suddenly more alert now that he might actually take you up on staying awake the entire night.
-
“Jisung, are you awake?”
Jisung doesn’t really expect you to hold true to your word and check up on him at 3 AM when Ryujin and Minho have both gone to sleep. You suddenly knock on his door while he’s in the middle of a song he’s been trying to write on his guitar lately, startling the poor boy who almost falls off of the window and causes a big fuss about it.
“Are you okay in there?” You ask worriedly from outside after knocking for the 4th time, the doorknob clicking gently after. When only shuffles reach your ear on the other side, you immediately add, “Hey, I’m coming in!”
Jisung doesn’t even have time to protest, catching a glimpse of you going in and closing the door as a tray of mugs trails behind you. Quickly hiding the guitar by the curtains, he clumsily scrambles up to a stand and retrieves the tray from the air, “H-Hi! You made...tea?”
“Those two mugs are for me.” You pretend to swat his hand away jokingly, joining him on the small balcony on the other side of his window. Spotting his guitar hidden haphazardly on the side, you’re quick to pick it up and slide it over your lap while Jisung’s occupied with the tea, strumming a few chords. Only then, do you also notice his music sheets strewn across the balcony, all labelled with the word ‘sunshine.’ “I didn’t know you brought this along. It still plays good, I suppose, but do you still play badly?”
Jisung scowls at you as he sets the tray down next to his notebook, sitting down criss cross once more before swiftly snatching the guitar from your hands. “I play better than you, at least.” Ignoring your protests, he then strums a few chords of his own and continues, “Why are you still awake, anyway? Don’t you have a 9 AM later?”
When he turns to you, he sees you taking a sip of your tea first before answering, “I feel like ditching,” a statement he’s definitely never heard from you before by the way his eyes widen in surprise. “Don’t act so surprised! Uni’s just a cover and a way to get hearts while we’re here in the human world, anyway. Since everyone could be here later and there’s a possibility that we’ll see Hyunjin again with them, I wouldn’t want to miss a second of him back.”
“Don’t tell me, am I rubbing off on you?” Jisung snickers playfully. Deep inside, however, he’s undoubtedly a little impressed. After all, it’s been a while since he’s seen you so carefree outside of royal duties. “This is bad. We’re still competing, you know!”
“Tch, don’t push it. My current count’s quite high so I’m not that worried.” You shake your head in disbelief, leaning back against the windowsill and gazing ahead to the brightly-lit city. “It’s just that it’s been 5 months since Hyunjin’s gone missing and Yeji started combing every inch of Seoul, only to find a lead out in Incheon. I want to see him as much as you do.”
Jisung nods slowly in agreement, picking up the second mug of tea and taking a sip. It’s chocolate matcha, the flavour you always craved on elementary school field trips back in the magical realm whenever you missed home or so Felix once said. “It’s been that long, huh? And we’ve been here taking our exam for 4 months now.” He muses out loud between sips of tea, warming him up in an instant against the unusually cold night. “Time flies a little weirder when you’re on the other side of the moon, don’t you think?”
“I think you’ve just been having too much fun flirting with humans.” You point out, gesturing over to his emerald ring. Over the months, you’ve noticed that the vessels grow warmer every time you reach a thousand points which is roughly every 100 hearts or so. In the rare moments these days that Jisung’s ring has accidentally brushed against your skin, usually at the bus or when passing dishes along, the stone feels intimidatingly hot and almost burning. “How much do you have already?”
“Enough to win against you.” He teases playfully as he hums along to his song, making you scoff. “I mean, it’s been fun. Gaining a lot of ecure here has made my magic feel more powerful but, still, I can’t help but think sometimes that this whole exam would’ve been fun if the 4 of us were complete.”
You take another sip of your tea, listening along to Jisung’s humming. “If Hyunjin didn’t disappear beforehand and scared off Lia and her parents from letting her compete...yeah, I guess it would’ve been much more fun if we’re all competing together and the exam duration was 1 year like normal.” Thinking about it more, you end up chuckling at imagining how this whole exam could’ve gone differently. “But, at the same time, it’s been fun competing with you so far.”
“Going soft on me?” He raises a brow with a smirk. “I know we’ve been stuck to each other like glue for the past months but you should look out for that heart of yours, it might turn pink for me again.”
“I mean you’ve put up a fight so far. It’s a professional compliment, don’t exaggerate it.” You roll your eyes with a slight snicker, making him laugh. You purposely ignore his last comment, though, knowing that he wouldn’t really look into your feelings for him, anything but that. “Maybe you’re the one who’s going soft on me. Seungmin told me about the purple hearts.”
“He what?!” Jisung exclaims, his smug expression instantly morphing into panic as he almost throws his guitar off of the balcony. “Wait, I can explain!”
You shake your head and wave your hand dismissively. “No, you don’t have to! I understand.” You assure with a laugh, placing your hand on his nearest shoulder and making him sit back down when he wobbles over the messy and narrow space. “Though, yeah, I probably would’ve yelled at you if Seungmin told me any earlier but it’s all said and done now, anyway. I appreciate it, actually.”
“A lot of guys were being creeps to you so I thought...I got protective, okay? Ryujin and Yeji were getting stares too so even Seungmin would do the same thing to protect them.” Jisung pouts. “I know we’re in a competition and we’re supposed to rake up a bunch of hearts but your dignity’s much more important than some stupid crown...”
“I know, and I also know that you would’ve done it for Lia if she were here.” You nod understandingly, mustering up a small appreciative smile. Jisung can be sweet if he wants to, you conclude internally. “Ah, seriously, just imagine if there was 4 of us competing. This would’ve been much more fun and less stressful. You would’ve gotten your ass handed to you when you wanted to race to the moon.”
“Tch, Hyunjin would’ve taken all of the red ecures for himself.” Jisung adds, sharing in your quiet laughs now that the conversation’s shifted once more. “Much like how he charms everyone back home. He might even win, like he always does in every challenge the elders give us. He’s just the favourite!”
“I can’t wait for him to come home safely. He’s been gone for too long.” You sigh against your tea, tiredly adjusting to the uncomfortable space of the window. Seeing this from the corner of his eyes, Jisung doesn’t hesitate to pass you a pillow and nearby blankets this time which you’re more than grateful for. “I can’t wait for all of this to be over and go home, just visit again when I feel like it.”
“Me too. I can’t wait to see him.” Jisung sighs, peering down onto the balcony as he adjusts his guitar on his lap. “And I can’t wait to go home, too.”
And just then, the car that Chan used to drive everyone over to Incheon materializes at the front porch, spewing out Chan, your friends, and Hyunjin who’s supported by Seungmin and Yeji.
five out of six months
Hyunjin sports distinctly black cuts and gashes across his arms and legs when you greet the group in front of the house, similar to the ones Chan and Changbin also sported one time when the two also had an encounter with dark magic. Limping on his right leg and supported by his arms, Yeji and Seungmin used their magic to lift him over to the nearest sofa once they’ve reached the other side of Chan’s protective spell from the front door while the rest of the group crash into the vast expanse of the living room.
“I tried healing him as much as I can so it’s easier for you and Ryujin.” Seungmin huffs, tiredly sitting down on the ground by the coffee table. “He’s mostly fine, just exposed to a lot of dark magic.”
“And you guys? Are you okay? Is anyone else hurt?” You ask worriedly, darting your eyes over to Chan, Yeji, and Chaeryoung who all individually affirm to you that they’re not nursing any big injuries. “What happened?”
At that moment, Jisung arrives in the living room with a half-sleepy Minho and a frantically running Ryujin who immediately makes a beeline to Hyunjin and Yeji. Standing next to you, he echoes the exact same question to Seungmin. “What happened? Is Hyunjin going to be okay?”
You kneel down in front of Hyunjin, right next to Ryujin, and examine the cuts and gashes. Meanwhile, Jisung sits next to Seungmin while Minho runs over to Chan. “Turns out, they’ve been keeping Hyunjin to try and get him to activate the artifact.” Seungmin answers Jisung’s question after a moment, taking out the stolen compass that Hyunjin was supposed to retrieve from this world. “Then they heard that you and Jisung were going to proceed with the exam. So they tried using him as bait as well but the protective spells the elders casted on you two made it hard for them to find you even when they planned to separate our group.”
“We got there before they could manipulate my brother into it with dark magic.” Yeji continues tiredly in between casting her own spells, making her smaller wounds and a sprained ankle disappear. “They were quite hostile but we managed. It’s just that Hyunjin still hasn’t woken up since we took him.”
“Then aren’t you glad we stayed at home, Ji?” You mumbled under your breath as you and Ryujin casted spells to identify the magic needed to heal the half-conscious Hyunjin’s injuries. “Hyunjin’s probably not waking up because of exposure. We’ll have to determine just how much dark magic those witches used.”
Behind you, Jisung grumbles stubbornly at your comment. “So, is Hyunjin okay? What’s the diagnosis?”
Hovering your hand over Hyunjin’s chest, his heart suddenly reflects a horrifying black over your magic and making yours and Ryujin’s eyes widen. “Oh no…”
“What?” Suddenly, Jisung’s next to you and peering over Hyunjin��s ecure. “What the hell? Why is his heart black?”
Ryujin then places her hands over Hyunjin’s forehead, going through his fresher memories as her eyes turn a bright blue. “He’s...it’s an ancient spell, a really powerful one.” She eventually concludes, turning to Chan after. “Chan, do you think you can take a look at this?”
Across the room, Chan stands up with Minho’s help, having just treated a healing cut on his leg, and sits on Ryujin’s other side to briefly access the same memories. “The three of us can do it,” He gestures to you and Ryujin with pursed lips. “But it’ll take hours and a whole lot of ecure. We’ll need to purify his heart with an equally powerful spell.”
From the corner of your eye, you see Jisung immediately turn to you in worry, as if he already knows what you’re going to say. “Y/N, don’t—”
But you’re already reaching for your locket, forcing the stone to reveal its contents. “I can give up mine. It’ll save you both your energies and time.” You assure, tuning out Jisung’s protests.
“A-Are you sure?” Ryujin asks worriedly, echoing Jisung’s concerns. Next to her, Chan shakes his head at you in equal concern. “Y/N, these are your ecures for the candidacy exam, you can’t just—not right now when you’re almost do—”
“That’s not important right now. What’s important is that we save Hyunjin.” You nod without any hesitation. “Anyway, I have enough for both purifying Hyunjin’s heart and healing his wounds. It’s fine.”
You then take out more hearts from your locket, the clumped crystals of oranges, greens, pinks, and reds hovering above Hyunjin as he continues lulling in and out of consciousness and his body tries rejecting the prior spells Yeji casted to help him heal. Before you could fully empty out the vessel, however, Jisung’s hand with his emerald ring flies over yours to stop you. “Wait!” He exclaims, startling you, Ryujin, and Chan. “I’ll give up some of mine too. Don’t empty yours out.”
“Ji—”
“—Y/N.” He snaps frustratingly, raising his voice and confusing you further. “Please, let me help! I don’t want you to empty your count, I’m not letting you.”
This seems to effectively catch you off-guard. Jisung then takes this as an opportunity to stop you, not letting your hand go while he summons his own collected hearts out from his ring and firmly making sure that you don’t argue with him further until Chan has reluctantly made sure that you have enough ecures to convert into magic. Even then, he doesn’t let you go by your hand and instead moves his over to your free hand while Chan instructs you and Ryujin on how to purify a black heart.
“J-Jisung.” You call for him once your initial annoyance of him stopping you has died down, eyes widening when he glances back at you with worry. “I need my two hands.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” He lets go of your hand immediately, keeping his hands down on his lap before leaving the three of you to check on Seungmin, Yeji, and Chaeryoung. “Sorry…”
You cough out awkwardly as he leaves, glaring at Ryujin when she musters up a teasing smile despite your current predicament.
“He’s right, you know.” Chan comments after a while, instructing you the following spells while the dark color of Hyunjin’s ecure fades to a glowing white.
“Don’t start.” When you send a glare over your own cousin’s way, however, he quickly drops the subject with a shrug.
Purifying a darkened heart, as it turns out, lasts until the very break of dawn as the three of you exhaust the ecures you and Jisung have put out to heal Hyunjin. As time ticks by agonizingly slow for Hyunjin who could only lay back on the sofa and absorb all of your energies to heal himself, Minho eventually gets everyone to clear the living room and sleep in the much more comfortable guest rooms after making sure that no one is greatly injured before hurling himself to the kitchen and make breakfast.
But you see Jisung stay from the corner of your eye, taking up space on your opposite side to steal glances at you or comfort Hyunjin. From the way his eyebrows furrow over his sleepy eyes and how he refuses to leave even when you awkwardly tell him off, you could tell that he too can’t make out your previous exchange.
“—Y/N. Please, let me help! I don’t want you to empty your count, I’m not letting you.” You know that he acted the way he did because it was Hyunjin that you were trying to save, one of his best friends. But the way he sounded so angry, the way he snapped at you in the spur of the moment, a small part of your thoughts wants to make you think that he had other reasons for doing what he did.
“Hyunjin? How are you feeling?” Chan asks after 2 hours of nonstop spellcasting, halting you and Ryujin in your steps after. “Can you sit up?”
Your eyes turn blue at the same time you see Jisung’s turn green, surveying Hyunjin’s heart for any hints of leftover dark magic. Meanwhile, Hyunjin struggles to sit up with Jisung’s help, tiredly groaning under his breath. “Much b-better.” He manages to stumble out after a moment, mustering up a small smile despite the dizzying and overwhelming fel. “Thanks, you guys.”
You sigh in relief, resting your back against the coffee table behind you before nodding. “Finally…”
“Come on, Hyunnie, I’ll move you upstairs.” Chan volunteers, standing up from his position on the floor and briefly stretching his arms out. Turning to you, Ryujin, and Jisung, he then adds, “You guys get some rest too. Just skip for today and tomorrow. I’ll write to everyone back home.”
You don’t even argue against your cousin this time, finding yourself nodding when he gives you the same look he always does whenever you intend on shouldering some work for him. Standing up from the floor, you, Ryujin, and Jisung then head upstairs in silence.
The entire walk, you feel Jisung stealing glances over to you but you decide to not act on it, shaking your head when he suddenly opens his mouth to speak before the two of you could go on your separate ways.
“Y/N, wait—” “Goodnight, Jisung.”
-
Growing up, Jisung has always relied on two people in helping him through the crisis of accidentally going too far with you: Chan and Felix. Chan, obviously, because he’s your cousin and the only other friend he has who harbors an inkling of a braincell and Felix because he’s everyone’s favourite and he knows the kinds of snacks that get on your good graces. These moments when he’s actually pushed your buttons too far are rare (as much as the two of you like to express your annoyance over each other, you’ve actually come to understand that this is just your dynamic growing up), but Jisung personally keeps a list of steps to do in situations like this anyway. Now more than ever, it seems, because suddenly, it feels weird and awkward being around each other—and not the usual kind.
But as fate would have it, Chan is busy working out how to safely get Hyunjin home and explaining to the elders what happened. If normally Jisung would be asking Chan first about you and what he could say when he confronts you, this time he’s asking all of them to his twin brother who’s more than willing to listen (after listening to Yeji, Ryujin, and Chaeryoung gossip everything to him prior, of course).
“Why did you do that anyway?” Felix points out on the other side of the call, snuggling into a pillow as night falls on both realms. It’s been 3 days since Hyunjin returned and both the house and the officials back at home have been busy arranging his return with Yeji, Seungmin, Ryujin, and Chaeryoung; only allowing for the twins to talk in the late hours of the night. “And you said it angrily too from what Ryujin told me. No offense, bro, I’d feel a little weird if you raised your voice at me, too, then offered up half of your collection on their behalf.”
Jisung groans in frustration, running his hand through his hair as he shuffles uncomfortably around his bed sheets. “I don’t know, it’s just...I was thinking of a lot of things.”
“Like what?”
“This candidacy exam, what Chan told me beforehand, Hyunjin, Y/N…” The older twin purses his lips, taking his eyes away from Felix to gaze down at his hands. The emerald ring is much cooler now after losing ecure but somehow, it feels heavy on Jisung’s ring finger. “I thought that it’d be unfair if they lose all of their ecure at this point in the race, trying to save Hyunjin, then the elders might not be too pleased about it when we return. But most importantly, I thought about what Chan told me when Minho first arrived, about how Y/N’s always jumping at every opportunity to help other people without thinking too much of themself. I was right there with my own vessel of hearts for them to use and if I just let them empty out theirs, then I’d be letting them get the short end of the stick in the long run again.”
Felix nods along understandingly at his brother’s words, all the while trying to hide a smile behind his hand. So Yeji was right! “So why did you call me, then? You seem to have your reasons sorted out, just tell Y/N what you told me.” He shrugs after Jisung’s extensive speech, giggling at the dramatic reaction that he receives from his brother after. “I know you guys aren’t those emotional kinds of people to each other but you said so yourself that Y/N’s been quieter these days and that it’s been eating at your conscience. I say you just go for it and tell them how you feel.”
“I’m not you, Lix. Y/N’s going to laugh at me.” Jisung pouts helplessly. “I can’t just tell them that.”
“You’re so dramatic! It just implies that you care about Y/N like a decent human being. Anyone in your situation who knows what you know about them would’ve been considerate enough to do the same thing.” Felix argues back, rubbing his temples at how the older boy’s acting. “Don’t get it twisted, brother...unless you want it to, of course.”
“Ya, and what’s that supposed to mean?!”
“Figure it out yourself.” Felix sticks his tongue out teasingly before laughing and waving a dismissive hand. “Anyway, Yeji told me that Y/N’s been craving blueberry pancakes lately. You can just make them right now and give it tomorrow so you don’t have to go out.”
“If anything, I want to leave the house right now and never come back.” Jisung grumbles back in frustration before sighing in defeat. “For the first time, I can’t believe you’re no help at all, Lix. I’m hanging up.”
“Tch, you just can’t handle the truth, Sung. Anyway, I have to go too, mom and dad are asking me to come to this thing. I’ll update you on it later! Love you! Bye!” Felix then waves to the call one last time before hanging up, leaving Jisung in the uncomfortable silence of his room.
Jisung sighs against the heavy blankets, throwing his phone to the other side of the mattress before ultimately deciding on standing up and heading to your room across the hall. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, it’s not like I like them or anything like that! Nothing to worry about! Let’s not get it twisted.
When he opens the door, however, the first person he unexpectedly sees outside the hallways is you just as you close the door behind your own room. “Y/N!” He ends up blurting out loud in the moment, catching your attention with wide eyes. Not knowing what else to say, the first thought that comes to mind is, “Are you going to Hyunjin’s room?”
You furrow your brows in confusion, shaking your head slowly. “No, I’m going to the kitchen?”
“O-Oh.” He runs his hand through his hair once more in nervousness, nodding along and hiding the heat rising up his neck in embarrassment. “Well, I’m going there too. Mind if I join you?”
You simply nod in response, walking down the end of the hallway with him in relative silence. He hasn’t seen you much since Hyunjin’s arrived either since you spent most of your time checking your mutual friend for his condition and brewing tea. The dramatic gears in Jisung’s head would like to think that it’s just pure convenience.
“So, what did you and Felix talk about?” “How’s Hyunjin?”
Jisung glances over to you on his right just as you mirror his actions, the gesture somehow making him flustered this time around as he’s quick to look away. “S-Sorry. Um, we just—talked about how things are back home.” He shrugs in his best feigned nonchalance, mentally cringing at how visibly awkward he looks as the two of you go down the stairs anyway. Not that it’s a lie, anyway, he and Felix did talk about other topics besides you. “Everything’s pretty busy back home since the elders are talking about how Hyunjin coming back is going to affect the exam now.”
“Oh.” You nod along almost absentmindedly. “That’s...yeah, I’ve heard about it too. It’s pretty hectic on my mom’s end right now.”
“So...how’s Hyunjin?” Jisung chimes in almost a little too quickly, feeling even more awkward that he accidentally brought up your candidacy exam again. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
You purposely pretend to not notice anyway, answering his questions carefully as you approach a curve into the spiral staircase. “He’s regaining his strength at least. Still on bedrest but he should be okay by the weekend when Changbin fetches him and the others.” The two of you then pass through the living room to get to the kitchen, finding Minho and Chan cuddled up on one of the sofas as they watch a movie on the television.
The kitchen, on the other hand, is deserted when you turn on the lights which Jisung internally thanks every guest in the house for before taking a deep breath. “About what I said back then, by the way…” He starts carefully, catching your attention before you could even detach yourself from him to open the nearby fridge. You freeze a few steps ahead of him, making the poor boy gulp nervously. “Um, I’m sorry that I raised my voice at you. I shouldn’t have done that, even when I was stressing out.”
Much like when he actually did raise his voice, you momentarily freeze in your spot before eventually shaking your head reassuringly and moving over to the fridge. “It’s alright, you don’t need to apologize for that.” You add with a small smile, taking out the fruit bowl from the fridge. “Is that why you’ve been quiet these past days? It’s okay, really.”
“I haven’t been—it’s you who’s—” Jisung stops himself halfway before he could even start another argument, biting down his lip before shaking his head. Walking over to the stove area, he then opens a few cabinets in search of the pancake mix while you shuffle around the area behind him. “A little, yeah. It’s just that it looked like it bothered you so it bothered me too.”
When Jisung then glances over his shoulder, he sees you approaching with the fruit bowl hugged close to your chest. “I thought about it a few times. After that, I just thought that you were bothered so I couldn’t talk to you after.” You explain slowly, voice growing louder as you set the bowl next to him. In the dim lights of the kitchen, he suddenly can’t tell if you’re lying or not. “But it’s all good now. Are you making pancakes?”
Jisung nods sheepishly, finally finding the pancake mix in the deeper crevices of the cabinet and taking it out with a pan and spatula from the adjacent cabinet. “No, but you have to know that—that—”
“Hm? What?” You raise your brows curiously, taking the pan and spatula for him before proceeding to the stove and twisting the knobs to preheat.
“You’re not letting me finish.” Jisung points out with a feigned disapproving situation while quickly preparing the pancake mix, one which you somehow find amusing enough to laugh at. “Come on, don’t laugh, my twin made me say a bunch of things then coerced me into telling you so I’d—”
“Yeah, I know.”
“—So, I appreciate it if you’d lis—wait, you know?!” His feigned expression then turns into one of surprise once more as you nod and break into giggles. “W-What?!”
“You were being really loud, Hyunjin was even complaining to me from the next room by phone that he can’t sleep because of you.” You chuckle in amusement, nudging him by the arm when you notice that he’s slowed down his mixing. “He said something about you complaining to Felix about something or whatever. I don’t know, I was on a call with Lia.”
“Then why did you—? So, you just came out here for pancakes?!”
“No! I wanted to hear what you were going to say! I didn’t hear any word besides the pancakes, I swear...well, not clearly at least.”
By now, all of the awkwardness has immediately dissipated as Jisung stops mixing the pancake mix altogether to turn to you and cross his arms. “You’re unbelievable.” He pretends to roll his eyes and scoff at you, earning him a glare. You then swipe the pancake mix from his hands, pouring them into the pan in big circles. “And you still have the audacity to make me do this pancake mix.”
“Well, you’re already mixing it so might as well.” You shrug with a knowing smile before nudging him again by the handle of the spatula. “Now, go on, what were you going to say?”
Jisung shoots you one last incredulous look but you effectively counter it by encouraging him, promising that you “won’t laugh.” “Ah, well...I just wanted to say that you shouldn’t go all out wasting all of your collected hearts at this point, not when we’re almost done with the exam.” He blurts out, gazing down and fiddling with the fruit bowl while you take spoonfuls of blueberries from it to mix with the pancakes. “I want to win but it won’t be fun if your tally suddenly drops, right?”
When he looks up, you’re raising your brow at his last comment as you make more pancakes. “I mean, I know you want to do what’s best for everyone but you have to look out for yourself too. Geez.” With a sigh, he then corrects which makes you nod in agreement. “A-And I guess lean on us too. We’re your family and friends, don’t shoulder all of the work for us all the time.”
“I doubt I can lean on you.” You tease, flipping through your second batch of pancakes to cook. When Jisung sends a glare your way, you simply stick your tongue out at him. “Kidding.”
“I get all emotional and all you say is that you doubt you can lean on me. Unbelievable…” Jisung scoffs, stuffing his mouth with more blueberries in feigned annoyance.
The blueberry-filled pancakes are all eventually set on a plate you find on your opposite side, stacked up as a tall tower leaning on one side. Carefully passing Jisung the plate, you then twist the stove’s knobs off and reply, “You also made me cook the pancakes you wanted to make for me so I think that makes us even.”
“Y/N!” He whines between mouthfuls of blueberries as you move around him to transfer the pan and spatula to the sink.
You sigh in defeat, chuckling when you meet gazes once more and see him sulking with his cheeks full. “Right, right, I’m sorry!” You then beckon him over to the dining table, taking the fruit bowl on his side. “A-And...you know, thank you for that. We’re all good now, right?”
“If you are.”
“Definitely. Want to eat with me? I still owe you that meal from our first day.”
six out of six months
Your mother as well as the high jury of elders from back home eventually proposed that you and Jisung finish your Crown Candidacy exam while Hyunjin, should he eventually announce that he wants to participate as well in the incoming 6 months, do his under stricter supervision in the following year. This ensures fairness in your situations, that yours and Jisung’s efforts aren’t wasted in the past 5 months while also thinking of Hyunjin who wasn’t around in time for the traditional schedule of the exam. When Hyunjin was escorted home by Changbin and Felix, however, he briefly hinted towards a plan on refusing the candidacy and the exam. He left with the others before you or Jisung could even ask him about it.
Regardless, you and your sole competitor easily fall back into the race as soon as Hyunjin, Yeji, Seungmin, and Chaeryoung have settled their business in the human world and went home, returning to university over a week later to regain the ecures that you lost. Not that it’s suddenly harder, anyway. Timely as it is, an announcement for a school festival at the end of the month has Jisung signing up to perform while you join the organizing committee to spend more time with your human friends.
In the time that you’ve spent in the human world, you’ve made many genuine friends beyond collecting their ecure for your exam, especially in your classmates Yuna and Jeongin. Though they don’t know about your true nature, the two have unknowingly aided you a lot in your mission by accompanying you through the different activities around university.
Yuna, in particular, was even the one who first mentioned the school festival to you, encouraging you to join the events committee with her and invite Jisung to perform. “It’s free backstage passes and we can see all of the artists up close!” She sighed dreamily on the day she showed you the gold and red poster that she picked up from the department bulletin board. “And come on, you’re really good at organizing stuff! We should do it together!”
And more hearts to collect, you thought to yourself when you accepted and attended the orientation.
And more hearts it was, indeed, as you spend the next 3 weeks meeting people from different colleges as you and Yuna are assigned to helping organize the music performance for the end of the festival. With your previous experience fulfilling your duties back at home, it’s unsurprisingly easier for you to juggle the work assigned to you—contacting students to perform, arranging the program flow, and turning the university football field into a makeshift mini concert stadium—with socializing and fulfilling your original mission of collecting hearts.
Across from your room at home, on the other hand, Jisung has been busy spending the same time making his own music to perform at the music festival. You invited him to perform some time after starting your work with the festival committee—well, your friends insisted that you invite him and Chan after finding out that the famous DJ, CB97, is your cousin and that you and the “College of Psychology Cutie” commute home together (“Don’t tell me...are you guys secretly dating?!” Yuna had shamelessly asked during one of your meetings, to which you had to smack your hand over her mouth and improvise a cover story for you and Jisung that you live in the same neighbourhood).
Jisung accepted at the thought that he could garner a huge crowd of hearts from this opportunity, cooping himself up in his room right after the following days that followed to complete his 15-minute set. Ever since, all you’ve heard coming from his room in the middle of the night would be guitar strums, drum loops, and the faintest hints of Jisung’s voice singing along to freestyle raps and lines.
He mostly sang about love, of all things; something you, Minho, and Chan immediately noticed in the next 3 Friday nights that the three of you would be huddled in the living room to watch a movie, only to hear Jisung repeating lines as if he was talking to someone in Chan’s home studio. You wanted to ask about it out of pure curiosity, and just the general worry that he might not be looking after his heart while finishing your exam after all, but decided against it in favor of waiting for the final product at the music festival.
Fortunately, the month somehow went by in almost a flash as you and Jisung both got busy preparing and collecting more hearts on the side. Before you know it, it was the afternoon of the music festival and Felix is suddenly back in the human realm to accompany you and Minho to the school festival.
“So, did he tell you what he prepared for tonight?” Felix asks you as the three of you walk around the festival grounds. Over the course of 3 weeks, you and a large team of student volunteers have managed to haul in food stalls, arcade booths, and rides from the quad all the way to the football field for this festival, amenities which you yourself haven’t tried yet because of your busy schedule but Felix and Minho have both been so overwhelmingly excited to check out even on the bus trip to your university.
In response to the prince’s answer, you shake your head with a small pout. “I just hear him all over the house and I didn’t really want to pry if he didn't want to tell me anything.” You point out, the two of you suddenly changing the course of your mindless walk as Minho points to a crossbow shoot booth. “Why? Doesn’t he tell you what he’s been working on?”
“No! He stops whatever he’s doing whenever we call, even when I ask him to play just a little bit of his work.” Felix is quick to mirror your pout, only for it to disappear when Minho jokes that the two of you help him cheat in the booth as he picks up a crossbow. “I thought since you guys are living together, you’d know better than me.”
“Ah, you kids just wait until Jisung and Chan perform later.” Minho dismisses your concerns, holding the fake crossbow up properly while the staff manning the booth prepares the targets on the other side. “Now, help me win Chan a giant wolf.”
You roll your eyes at Minho, shrugging at Felix. “I guess he’s right. Let’s just help Minho get a giant wolf first.”
-
Chan and Jisung arrive at university 10 minutes before the music festival from Chan’s studio halfway across the city, initially unable to find you in the crowd of organizers as they set up backstage with Yuna and Jeongin’s help until you call Chan late that you’re “babysitting” Minho and Felix.
“They’ve somehow teamed up and have been competing with the rigged booths since we arrived.” You explained over the voice call, the distant sounds of Minho and Felix yelling while tossing metal rings around almost muffling your own. “I’ll be on my way in a while as soon as Minho leaves the ring toss alone but Yuna and Jeongin are there. Just ask them if you guys need anyth—oh my gods, Felix, you won another plushie? That’s so cool! Wait, I’m on a call with Chan!—uh, yeah. I’ll be there in a second!”
The commotion on your end makes the two boys laugh, even as you bid your goodbyes and end the call, but especially Jisung who’s been looking nervous since he arrived. Throwing his head back in a laugh as he tunes his guitar, he comments, “That’s a bit unexpected. I didn’t know my brother and your boyfriend would get along like that, and this quickly!”
“Beating out rigged games sounds about right.” Chan chuckles along, seated on a plastic chair and running a quick check on his equipment. Turning to the younger boy, he then asks, “Are you still nervous?”
“Me? Nah, I wasn’t even nervous to begin with!” At this, Jisung’s laughs naturally die down to an uncertain shake of his head. He dismisses with a scrunch up nose which Chan immediately raises a brow at.
“Come on, Sung, I practically raised you with the other kids.” Chan proceeds to roll his eyes as Jisung’s brief confident facade crumbles down slowly. “What’s up?”
The boy in question eventually sighs in defeat, shoulders slumping against the plastic chair he occupies. “Fine, maybe I’m a bit nervous! Just a little bit, though, I can still get on stage later! I mean, it’s not like performing here is gonna be different from back home like you said on the way here but…”
“But what?” Chan asks patiently, glancing up to see Jisung’s gaze fixed down on his yellow acoustic guitar. When the younger boy doesn’t respond immediately, he then continues, “I’ve heard bits and pieces of what you’ve been working on this month and all of the songs sound great. You’ll catch a lot of hearts tonight with them, I’m sure. What are you worried about?”
Jisung looks up from his guitar and opens his mouth to speak, only to get cut off when you come in the performer’s tent running and balancing different kinds of microphones in your hands. “Sorry I’m late!” You announce in between tired pants, catching both his and Chan’s attention as you pass the microphones around the artists with Jeongin who instinctively comes to your aid. “I was with my friends and they wouldn’t budge from the ring toss!”
“I think I’m going to faint.” Jisung mumbles under his breath with furrowed brows, loud enough for only Chan to hear, until you approach them last with their microphones.
“Mics?” You offer obliviously, holding up the last 2 hand mics in your possession. Passing one to Chan quickly, you then sit down next to Jisung and pass him his hand mic. “Hey, you’re up fourth, right?”
Jisung glances over to Chan with a panicked look but the older boy simply shakes his head with a chuckle and focuses on his keyboard. Turning to you, Jisung then nods quickly with a hum before gazing down at his guitar and the laptop he’s set up on the table in front of you two.
Immediately sensing his odd behavior, you then hover your hands in the space between the two of you in a quick spell, eventually verifying his nervous feelings. “Yeah, totally not nervous.” You chuckle in amusement, laughing even more when he turns to you and whines in complaint.
“Ya! Don’t do that!”
“Well, it’s not like you’re that good at hiding your nervousness!” You point out in defense, holding your hands up in front of you in between uncontrollable fits of giggles. When the glare he sends your way doesn’t relax one bit, you then fish out a small quokka plush from your backpack. “Anyway, Felix was kinda expecting that you’d be a little nervous so wanted me to give you this plushie he won at the milk bottle game with Minho for good luck. He would’ve given it himself but LUCY was already performing when we came here so he dragged Minho to the audience area before I could even bring him here.”
You then place the plush toy on the table right next to his laptop, looking around once to make sure that no one is looking your way before mouthing a quick spell to shrink the quokka into something smaller that he can hang on his guitar strap. As you do so, Chan notices how Jisung’s ears are quick to turn red as he follows your every movement. “You can stick it to your guitar strap and bring it with you to the stage.” You point out once you’re done, only then noticing his stares. “What?”
“Huh?” Jisung shakes his head absentmindedly, mentally slapping himself back to reality before scrambling to pick up the plush toy by the chain you added on top of its head and tying it to the small hole along the edge of his guitar strap. “O-Oh, yeah, thanks!”
You chuckle, just as Yuna suddenly calls for you to help in getting the next act’s microphone stands on stage. Standing up, you then pat Jisung’s shoulder reassuringly, saying one last, “Don’t be nervous!” before running off again to where most of your committee members are.
Once you’re out of earshot, only then does Chan look up from his equipment once more but this time with a knowing grin and squinted eyes. “Yeah, Sung, don’t be nervous!”
Jisung rolls his eyes in front of the older boy at this, securing the quokka plushie on his guitar strap one last time. “Shut up.”
-
Your committee heads lay you off of work just as Jisung heads to the stage for his set, the small quokka plush you gave him dangling behind his fretboard with a toothy grin while he sets up his laptop and greets the energetic crowd. When you discreetly scan the people’s ecures while standing behind the curtains, you quickly spot a growing number of pinks and oranges. “Such a charmer.” Chan notes, eyes also blue when you look up at him.
You nod in agreement, reverting back to your original color as more of your peers gather around the curtains to listen to Jisung’s introduction. “Um, hi, I’m Han Jisung from the Psych department.” You hear him greet with a shy chuckle over the microphone, earning him another wave of cheers. Behind you, even Yuna and Jeongin cheer despite Jisung having his back partially facing you. “This is my first time performing here at uni and the songs that I’ve prepared so please go easy on me.”
You then turn to Chan again, taking a sideways step closer to him as a thought crosses your mind. “Hey, Chan,” You call for him in a lower voice, craning your head up when he leans towards you. “Have you heard of the songs he’s going to perform tonight? You were together before coming here, right?”
“Only a little bit. We mostly talked while we were at the studio.” Chan shrugs in response. “I think he wanted it to be a surprise to everyone.”
On stage, Jisung then checks his guitar one last time before announcing the name of the first song. “So, this first song is something that I’ve been thinking about since I moved here. It’s called ‘Close.’” He says, pressing play on his loops and singing the first lines of the song. “Can you tell me about you? You, seen from afar. I just don't want to watch. Yeah Just tell me about you.”
Jisung is a great performer, there’s no doubt about it. Though you’ve grown up hearing him sing and rap at your more casual events back at home, he always manages to surprise you every time he performs just with the way he enjoys himself on stage. You can see him smile widely from the side of the stage, his nervousness long gone as he interacts with the crowd and collects the pink crystal hearts that float above your heads.
“He’s really good…” You murmur, more to yourself than to Chan, as you find yourself gently swaying to the song. “What was he even worried about? It’s a great song…”
Chan glances knowingly at you, a small smile playing on his lips as you sing along to the next round of the chorus. “I don’t think he has nothing to worry about too, not right now at least.”
“Hm?” “Nothing.”
-
In truth, even with the positive response from the crowd and the amount of ecures he’s collected from this set alone, Jisung is still nervous for his last song. “Sunshine” was supposed to be just another warm-up song with barely a cohesive topic, a compilation of sketches about his experiences in the human world that he spent his free time on when he wasn’t collecting hearts these past 6 months. As more time passed by, however, and the time of your exam was suddenly coming to a close, they eventually took a different direction without him even realizing it until you were inviting him to perform at this music festival.
The times that the two of you would bicker just to laugh at each other in the end, the competition that brought the bests and worsts in you, and your chocolate matcha tea and musings on the one time you sat down with him on his balcony. Eventually, you were all he was writing about. On top of the nervousness that comes with finishing the competition you’ve found yourselves in for half a year and finding out who will be declared the winner, Jisung was more nervous about the thought that you’re just behind the stage curtains with Chan, anticipating his next song.
“For my last song, I picked this one for someone I know whom I’ve spent a lot of time with these past few months.” He confesses shyly in front of the crowds. Among the hundreds of people that came tonight, he easily spots his twin brother in front of the barriers with Minho, sporting the most exaggerated surprised face ever. “I was hoping that when all of this is said and over, we’d get well-deserved breaks...maybe music and tea at night again or something.”
Jisung doesn’t have to turn around to gauge your initial reaction as he begins the song, Felix’s expression turning into that of giddiness as he looks over at the stage curtains is enough to set every gear in his head to pump out more nervousness. Instead, he pushes through until halfway to the song before he could steal his first glance over to you since beginning his set.
With his eyes still an emerald green from scanning the crowd’s ecures, your eyes meet under the harsh stage lights as he sings the bridge. “This place is quiet without a sound ye ye ye. Quiet except for the sound of our breaths ye ye ye.” He doesn’t intend to look again, not in that split second before he’s turning his gaze back to the crowd of cellphone lights and LED signs, but he sees your heart’s reflection once more.
Reminiscent of when you first confessed in middle school, a pinkish heart floats by the sleeves of your sweater, almost looking red if he just looked longer. You didn’t even turn away this time and simply just stood there, heat visibly rising up your neck.
Reminiscent of when you first confessed in middle school, a pinkish heart floats by the sleeves of your sweater, almost looking red if he just looked longer. This time around, however, you don’t turn away to try and hide it.
And this time around, Jisung doesn’t childishly call you out for it or ignores it. This time, it makes his own heart swell at the thought.
-
The car ride home, with Chan on the wheel and three extra boxes of equipment most of the backseats in his SUV, is a comfortable and awkward mix of quiet between you and Jisung as the two of you are forced to sit next to each other in the cramped space. You sit by the window, using it as an excuse to peer outside and avoid any kind of small talk from the boys, while Jisung has hisi eyes glued to his phone while a sleeping Felix snuggles into his shoulder. The only human noise in the car, as it seems, is coming from Minho and Chan as the two recall the songs the latter and Jisung performed at the program.
It’s even quieter at the thought that you, Jisung, and Felix will fly back to the magical realm tomorrow, something that Minho reminds you when he suddenly asks, “Right, what do you kids want me to cook for lunch later, by the way?”
The question comes right as the car suddenly comes to an abrupt stop at Chan’s garage, masking the way you and Jisung simultaneously jump in surprise. You instinctively glance over to him after with wide eyes, before gazing over at Minho who has a poorly-hidden snicker on his expression from the front passenger seat. “Um,” You stutter out awkwardly, glaring at Minho when he smirks teasingly over your way. “Anything’s fine for me.”
Jisung nods over to your direction in agreement. “Yeah, anything’s fine.”
Minho nods with pursed lips, as if he was biting down a laugh. “Does crispy pork belly sound good?” He asks, earning him nods from you. “Okay. You guys have been quiet back here this entire time, you guys good?”
“Yeah?” “Totally.”
Clearly unconvinced, Minho shakes his head and scoffs before twisting his upper body to face front once more, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door next to him. “Oh, kids…”
You roll your eyes at the comment before stealing a glance over at Jisung again, only to find the boy already staring at you. “W-What?” You manage to ask this time despite your initial surprise. In front of you, Chan has already turned the engine off and left the driver’s seat to open the back of the car. “You okay, Ji?”
He hums almost absentmindedly, phone now set down on his lap as he fiddles with his hands nervously. “Yeah, um—” He stutters out, biting his lips down once. Briefly glancing at his side, he then gestures towards his twin and adds, “Wait, sorry, um, let me wake Lix first.”
“Okay.” You nod awkwardly, deciding to unbuckle your own seatbelt and open the car door next to you. Jisung then gently shakes Felix awake, leading his brother out through the same car door since the opposite one’s blocked by more of his and Chan’s equipment.
“You go on ahead, Lix, I’ll just talk to Y/N.” You hear Jisung say as the three of you now stand outside in the cold, levitating boxes of instruments and computers flying over your head and heading inside the house.
Felix nods at this immediately, sleepily bidding you and Jisung with loose hugs before trudging back inside the house with Chan and Minho.
Once the doors leading back to the house fully close on the two of you, only then are you engulfed in the same awkward silence again and the two of you, for the third time in the past 6 months, speak up at the same time.
“So um—” “—Yeah, a while ago—”
This time, the two of you chuckle awkwardly over speaking at the same time again. You then gesture for him to go ahead and speak first as you adjust your sweater’s placement on your shoulder.
Instinctively, Jisung fixes your sweater for you before speaking, causing him to stutter a little. “S-Sorry, um…” He licks his lip awkwardly, retracting his hand as fast as he can and moving a step back. “Yeah, I meant to say that I didn’t...I didn’t mean to look at your heart.”
Suddenly, at such an important moment, you’re speechless and frozen in front of Jisung. Your hands find their way down the hem of your sweater, absentmindedly playing with the loose threads as you shift your weight on the balls of your feet and stutter out your response. “I-I um…”
Simultaneously, Jisung takes in a huge intake of breath and continues, “I looked at you because I actually made the song for you—well, about you but not in a weird way! It can be for you too, that is if you want it!—”
“Jisung?”
“Ah, anyway, I’m losing track! Just, I looked at you because I wanted to know what you thought of it the most in the moment, you know—”
“Jisung…”
“And I didn’t realize that my eyes were still green and I saw so I looked away as fast as I could, I swear—!”
“Ji.”
“I know you don’t want me looking into your heart and stuff because of before. I promise I won’t do it again—”
Realizing that he’s not going to stop in his ramblings, you then impulsively take a step towards him and grab him by his arms. “Ji, it’s fine.” You shake him gently, effectively stopping the endless flow of thought. “I mean, you already saw it and everything.”
“But I—”
“Just don’t lash out or stop talking to me again while I sort it out.” You shrug reassuringly with a sigh, reluctantly sliding your hands off of him and taking a step back again as you see him listen intently to your words. “It’s just pink, anyway, it can still go away like before. Just don’t avoid me again this time.”
Though he’s clearly been listening intently, you see his brows furrow and his expression suddenly becomes confused towards the end of your words. “What?” He echoes helplessly after you. “No, I...why would I stop talking to you? That was a long time ago. I won’t do that now, I...”
“Then just don’t take my heart or something.” You point out, almost like a question as his reaction confuses you similarly. “Anyway, that’s not the point, like I said, I’ll sort it ou—”
“Don’t.” He cuts you off immediately this time with more conviction, shaking his head and suddenly taking your hand. “Don’t sort it out. Don’t make it go away or anything.”
“What? Why?”
You’re pulled closer again, Jisung mumbling an incantation to show his ecure under his breath. “Look at mine.” He points out, a pink crystal heart floating over to your upturned palm as he holds onto you by your wrist. “If anything, I should be the one telling you to not take mine on the spot or something.”
“It’s pink.” You muse out loud in surprise, the warmth of his ecure feeling overwhelming as it floats above your hand. “And it’s for me…?”
Jisung rolls his eyes at this in disbelief, nodding patiently anyway. “Who else would it be for?” He scoffs gently, making the heart disappear before it could burn your palm. “I don’t know since when it’s been like that, maybe it’s been like that for a long time even I don’t know I’ve only looked at it while Chan and I were at the studio. All I’m sure is that suddenly I was writing a song for you and sacrificing half of my ecure count so you don’t lose easily in the exam and looking out for you and—just, this time it’s me who’s afraid that you’ll run away or disappear for a while if you knew.”
“So don’t...sort it out.” He concludes after unknowingly speaking at such a fast rate, heaving belatedly from this. “I like you now, I like you a lot, and I’m not going to lash out like when we were kids. Take my heart if you want just don’t change your feelings for me, please.”
There’s a brief pause that follows, the only noise ringing in your ears being the unusually loud beating of your own heart as the two of you freeze in place. Jisung tries waiting as patiently as he visibly can in this silence, puffing air in and out of his lips as he fails at trying to conceal his recurring nervous feelings, while you gaze at anywhere but him because of the heat rising up your neck.
“Listen…” He speaks up after a while. “I’m sorry, I—”
Fuck it, you think to yourself before stepping forward, shakily cupping his cheeks, and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Don’t say sorry.” You muster up a shy smile in between brief kisses. “You already know that I like you too.”
bonus epilogue
When you return to the magical realm to the news that Hyunjin won’t be taking his own candidacy exam next year in favor of his own kingdom’s crown, the elders are quick to take your locket and Jisung’s ring to proceed with the final results. Since the decision takes at least 3 days, coupled with the fact that a major complication arose in the 6 months that you were given, Jisung was asked to stay at your castle until the jury could come to a conclusion and crown either one of you.
The others would also occasionally come and visit (especially Lia who’s mostly kept up with your trip through Yeji and Ryujin) but since confessing to Jisung, the boy has been doing the most trying to sneak you away from everyone and your regular royal duties just to spend more time with you.
“So this is what you meant with Sunshine?” You ask in the afternoon before the elders would summon you back to the throne room, the two of you hidden away in your favourite greenhouse garden. Today, Jisung has somehow convinced you to ditch a visit to Chan’s family in favor of just sitting on your greenhouse’s cushioned sofas and listening to him hum his songs until your mentors would eventually come looking for you. “Chocolate matcha and your guitar?”
“Yeah, just a relaxing rest date with your crush.” Jisung points out next to you, his head snuggled into the crook of your neck as much as the guitar in between the two of you could allow him. On your opposite side, his cuddle rival, the quokka plush toy you’ve somehow managed to turn into a life-size pillow today, sits on your lap and occasionally pokes on the end of his guitar. “Why? Do you want to refill your tea? I’ve been getting Felix to teach me this spell to refill tea, you know. I’m getting it but chocolate matcha’s kinda hard to replicate.”
You shake your head in disbelief with a chuckle, a stark contrast to how you’re internally flustered over the small comment on your favourite tea flavor. “Who said you’re my crush? Bold of you to even assume, Ji…” You pretend to roll your eyes, sinking deeper into the soft cushions behind you.
“Baby, you’ll be taking those words back when I get crowned tonight.” He pouts, elbowing you gently before shifting to place his guitar on the side. With his hands now free, the prince then resorts to linking his arms with your free one and intertwining your hands together on top of the plush quokka. “If I win, I’ll make sure to banish this quokka first so you’ll be forced to cuddle with only me.”
“Tch, Felix won you this quokka. You’ll have to duel with him first if you want this gone.” You argue, sliding the quokka closer to him so its face is adjacent to Jisung. “Plus, it kinda looks like you. If I get crowned and you’ll be away doing your own duties back East, I have something of yours.”
“I think you meant that if I win and you’ll be staying here doing your own duties, you’ll have something of mine.” Jisung huffs pettily. “Maybe we should keep the quokka, after all. You might get lonely if I get busy.”
You shake your head immediately with a chuckle, leaning more of your weight on his side. “Oh, no, no, no.” You correct teasingly, making him giggle along against your shoulder. “Who said you’re going to win later?”
“Wanna bet?” He raises a brow and smirks, lifting his head briefly to glance over to you.
You roll your eyes at this, leaning forward to meet his lips. “You’re so competitive, babe. Give it a rest, you know I’ll win anyway.”
#stayverse#districtninewriters#inkidz#stayhavennet#skzwriternet#stray kids#skz#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids au#stray kids oneshots#stray kids fluff#stray kids drabbles#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz au#skz oneshots#skz drabbles#skz fluff#jisung#han jisung#stray kids han#skz han#stray kids jisung#skz jisung#jisung imagines#jisung scenarios#jisung au#jisung oneshots#jisung drabbles
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Unbreakable Vow
Summary: There had been many false alarms in the past, moments when she thought Gray would finally accept her feelings. She once again had her hopes up, even though she knew this was probably another one of those.
Word Count: 1,503 words
You may also read it on FanFiction.net and AO3! Check out my master list for other Gruvia fics.
Tag List: @shampooneko @fbflame94 @juviaafullbuster @unvalley @gruviaftw11 (Wanna be tagged, lemme know)
When she said those words, she hadn't really expected he would do it for her.
Of course, everyone in Magnolia knew of his habit of stripping his clothes at random—she in particular enjoyed it quite a lot—but he did it almost unconsciously, out of force of habit.
She never thought the day would come that her Gray-sama would actually undress willingly in front of her.
In her room. After she jokingly asked him to do so.
"Well?" Gray asked, his muscled chest, arms, and abs in full display as he carelessly tossed his coat and shirt on her bed.
For all her cheeky jokes and naughty teases, she was still a shy and conservative girl underneath it all. She couldn't help but get flustered as she eyed the deep V-shaped cuts of his lower abs that disappeared beneath his low-cut jeans.
"W-why is Gray-sama undressing in front of Ju-Juvia?"
Gray smirked, and Juvia instantly knew he was enjoying this. Oh, her Gray-sama could be so mean sometimes.
"You said you'd inspect my body for any wounds, right? I'm just doing what you asked me to," he answered casually with a shrug of his shoulders. "Are you going to do it or not?"
Well, he had a point. If Gray had an injury somewhere, it needed to be cleaned and patched up.
She had to do it for her Gray-sama, Juvia thought. This was no time to be embarrassed.
Keeping her composure, she sat on the empty space beside him on her bed. She felt a tingle run up her spine as their arms lightly brushed against each other.
"Let Juvia see, Gray-sama," she said as she carefully inspected his face first, her fingers treading on his forehead, cheeks, nose, chin. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she continued looking for any cut or bruise or scratch on his neck, shoulders, arms, chest, and abs.
As he said before, he was fine. There were some minor cut and scratch here and there, but they were far from being life-threatening. A little dab of alcohol (with Juvia blowing on it so it wouldn't sting) and a small band-aid were enough to patch him up.
"Juvia."
Gray's serious tone made Juvia look up from the tiny cut she was treating on his collarbone. His intense stare bored into her.
"I… I..."
Juvia waited for his next words, but he looked as if he was trapped in an internal struggle on what to say next. She knew that words weren't his strongest suit, so she decided to help him out.
"Did the mission go well?"
Gray sighed, relieved that Juvia opened up the conversation. "Yes. But it's not yet done. We still have to go back and finish it."
Juvia nodded. She was really hoping that it would all be done, and they could spend more time with each other. All the constant worrying also stressed her out. She knew that he promised to come back, but you never really know what might happen during dangerous missions like this one.
Speaking of coming back…
"Gray-sama, before you disappeared last time, you were about to say something." Juvia cleared her throat. "You said that when you come back…"
Gray's cheeks colored slightly, though his eyes wore a determined look. "I... I was just saying that when I come back…" He stared right at her, and she tried her best not to look away.
There had been many false alarms in the past, moments when she thought Gray would finally accept her feelings, but they didn't end the way she wanted them to. Despite that, she craved for such moments, and even though she knew in her mind that this was probably another one of those false alarms, she still had her hopes up. After all, even if Gray wasn't that great with words, he always made her feel special with his subtle actions.
The words would come eventually, she told herself. Be patient, Juvia.
But the more they stared silently at each other, the more that Juvia was convinced that perhaps, this was still not the right time. That maybe Gray still wasn't ready. Maybe she was pressuring him—
"When I come back, I'll be a man worthy of you." Gray finally said.
Juvia couldn't believe her ears. Was this some hyper-real fantasy she was conjuring in her head?
"I swear... that I will do my best to make you happy, for each and every day that you choose to stay by my side..."
Juvia wanted to slap herself to make sure everything was real, but instead, she remained frozen in place as Gray said the words she never thought she would hear from him.
"... if you would still have me, of course," he finished reluctantly, as if he was expecting her to shoot him down right there. When Juvia just stared at him and didn't say anything, he unclasped his silver cross necklace and reached forward to place it around her neck.
Juvia could feel his breath against her cheek as Gray leaned over. She felt herself getting flushed with their proximity as time seemed to stretch forever. Her heart was drumming in her ears, it was impossible he couldn't hear it.
In a daze, she palmed the cross now resting on her chest. It was cold in her warm hands, much like its owner.
Looking up, she found herself staring straight into Gray's onyx eyes, a light blush adorning his cheeks. Their faces were just a few inches apart, and she could easily close the distance if she just moved a little closer…
"Gray-sama."
His name escaped her lips like a whispered prayer only he could hear, making him reach out and cup one of her cheeks. They didn't realize how close they were to each other until they felt the tip of their noses touch, but neither pulled back. Juvia's eyes instinctively closed, her lashes brushing against his cheeks.
She felt his lips cover her own, at first soft and reluctant, as if asking for permission. Opening her lips slightly, Gray kissed her again, deeper this time, angling his head and nibbling at her lower lip.
Matching his intensity, her hands slid to his broad shoulders all the way to his back. She felt his other hand against the small of her back, pressing her closer to his body. They stopped momentarily when they felt the need for air, but the reprieve was short as he dove in, again and again, making up for all the moments he could have kissed her like this but didn't.
It was a dream, Juvia was sure. A dream she wished would never end.
But it did end eventually, though there was no doubt it was real. Her flushed cheeks, slightly swollen lips, and Gray's arms wrapped around her were enough evidence that it wasn't just a product of her wild imagination.
"Juvia," he whispered, her name on his lips sending an electric shock to her body. "Promise me you'll wait for me."
"Juvia promises," she answered without hesitation, looking straight into his eyes. She once again clasped the cross on her chest, knowing that even without his words, he would certainly come back home to her. And she would wait, no matter how long it would take.
He gave her his signature smirk, but it was matched with so much tenderness in his eyes that she knew it would always be the last thing she would remember every night before she fell asleep. She gave him a smile in return, the one she always reserved for him.
His hand covered the one clasping his necklace, tightening his hold. "I'll leave this to you so that you won't forget the promise I gave you."
"Juvia will never forget Gray-sama's words, with or without this," Juvia answered him. "But since Gray-sama gave Juvia a piece of him…"
Suddenly, Juvia had an idea. She stepped away from a confused Gray and went to her closet. When she came back, she was sporting a wide grin and holding something behind her back.
"Juvia would also like to give Gray-sama a Juvia doll so he'd always remember that Juvia's waiting for him!" she exclaimed, handing the plushie to Gray.
Any other time, Gray would have freaked out at Juvia's unconventional gifts. But he was used to these things by now, and frankly, he loved her for it.
Smiling, he took the Juvia doll in his arms, staring at the dark blue eyes sewn on its hat-covered head. It wasn't the real Juvia, but it would do for now.
"Thanks. I'll take care of my Juvia doll," he said, and Juvia beamed. "But for now—"
He placed the Juvia doll on the table and grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him. Juvia gasped as she found herself locked in his arms once again.
"Let me take care of you while I'm here, okay?"
"Okay."
No Fairy Tail mage saw them again, at least for the rest of that night.
***
A/N: You know, I always get a spark of inspiration from canon materials and official arts. This one’s inspired by Mashima-sensei’s latest autograph session featuring these two artworks below. Next in my pipeline: the Gruvia Day 2021 official art. I already have the story in my head so hopefully I have enough time to finish it in the next two weeks!
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Oncoming Storm | KSJ
pairing: Human!Seokjin x Mermaid!reader
genre: smut, slight angst, fluff, basically porn with a dollop of plot
au: fantasy au, strangers to lovers
rating: explicit, nsfw, 18+
word count: 5.6k (WILDLY UNEDITED)
warnings: slight angst, some pining, some mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, sharks, unprotected sex, biting, breast play, fingering, oral (f. recieving), multiple orgasms, cream pie, subtle mentions of religion
a/n: so here it is! and im so mad at myself because i’m posting it so late. i accidentally took a nap that turned into actual sleep. I changed the plot to this fic so many times, i was happy when i landed on a plot that i liked. please keep in mind that this fic is currently un-beta’d and un-edited. I’m still in the process of moving homes. so once I am done, I will go back and edit this fic. I really hope you enjoy this fic!
part of The Last Splash Collab hosted by @kimtaehyunq Maggie thank you so much for letting me join and putting up my shenanigans in our DMs. I love you!
The storm is close. You can feel it in the air. Sense it in the restless calm that has overtaken the ocean water around you. You know what this means, the whispers in the sea breeze only confirming your suspicions with each passing wind as you swim up to your lover’s boat. It’s time to migrate.
You had a feeling this time was coming soon. The last time a migration happened was two years ago. You remember it quite vividly. It was the very day you met the first friendly human you’ve ever come into contact with. The very handsome Kim Seokjin.
It was at the beginning of the last migration. Your tribe of merpeople had just entered into your new territory, having followed the strong storm current until the flow started to calm. The usual indication that your tribe has reached whatever new home the God of the Sea has called you to. Everything was going fine, the heavy storms had kept the waters clear of any boats to help prevent any humans from witnessing pods of merpeople in the water. It wasn’t until your pod had reached the end of the current tunnel when trouble had struck.
A group of rogue sharks were there to greet your people. Circling and dividing your clan, trying to weed out the weak swimmers from the strong. Many of your people were able to swim away, the warriors of the group fought off the sharks with no major injuries or casualties, managing to make the attackers flee the area. All but one. In the midst of all the chaos, one of the sharks had successfully rounded up two young mermaids who had gotten separated from the pack, circling them as if playing with them. Feeding off the sense of their fear before striking to kill. It wasn’t until you noticed the dark, hungry eyes of the deadly hunter focused on you that you realized what you had done. The blood from the cut on your arm won it’s attention, allowing the two younglings to scurry away to safety.
You hadn’t even noticed you had done it. Instincts kicking in, causing you to grab one of the sharp shells on your necklace. Your body moving quickly on its own to create the mark, knowing the blood hungry beast wouldn’t be able to help itself. You turned the opposite way from where the younglings escaped and swam away as fast as you could, the shark following closely behind you. You looked around you, hoping to find a cave or possibly one of your fellow mer-warriors to help you with your escape. You don’t know how far or how long you swam, dodging each attack the shark attempted on you. You could feel your body growing tired, your tail not able to keep you at the same speed as before. You sense the shift in the water, your attacker positioning himself for another strike. You use the last of your strength to dodge once again, barely evading the shark’s bite as a few of his teeth clip your side. Traces of your blood dissipate into the water as you once again start to swim away, the pain of your new injury destroying the rest of your energy. You start to think you’re finally done for until you’re suddenly dragged up and out of the water. The sudden rush of fresh air invading your lungs as you look around you in a panic, gripping at the netted rope that you found yourself ensnared in.
With night time in its full glory in the sky, you try to use the light of the moon to check your surroundings. It’s not until you feel yourself moving around in the air that your eyes finally see the fishing boat your entrapment is attached to. Panic takes over as the predicament of your situation starts to settle in. In the midst of escaping one of your kinds’ greatest threats, you managed to get yourself caught by the next worst thing. Humans.
You reach for one of the shells on your necklace, yanking it free and trying to make quick work on the ropes holding you captive. You nearly make a hole big enough for you to slip out and back into the water when you feel the net dropping, your body slamming hard on the deck of the boat. You scramble to get yourself free of the net before your captor has a chance to make an appearance. Your tail thrashes around wildly, making you feel like the quite literal fish out of water that you are. You silently pray the thrashing and the sea breeze is enough to quickly dry your scales, allowing your lower body to take on a human form. Your wish goes unanswered, replaced by the grace of the net being freed from around you. You flip to your stomach, adrenaline coursing through you as you try to scoot yourself to the edge of the boat. Your blood pumps so loudly in your ears, deafening you to the heavy footsteps coming up from behind. You’re nearly to the back of the boat when you feel hands clasp your arm, your fight or flight reflex causing you to flip back over, slapping your newest attacker across the face with your tail. Successful knocking them away and on their ass. You go to turn back to make your escape when you hear the voice of your attacker. His choice of words halts you from jumping back into your home.
“Wait! The shark is still there!” He exclaims, pure panic and genuine concern laced in his vocals. You keep your eyes on the water, breathing heavily as you peer into the dark abyss in front of you, trying to see if the shark was still indeed awaiting for your return into it’s hunting ground. Thinking your fate is sealed either way, you consider risking it before once again being interrupted by his voice.
“Please, I’m not going to hurt you. I was trying to help-- Holy hell…” The stranger's words die out as you turn to look at him, his eyes on your body as you follow his gaze down to your dissipating tail. The usual bluish purple of your scales slowly shed from you. The now smooth appendage slowly forms into the shape of human legs, having dried enough to allow the transformation. The remaining scales of your tail cling to your flesh in patches, glinting in the moonlight as you move to curl into yourself and put distance in between you and the strange man before you.
“You’re actually real. Mermaids are actually real,” the man speaks softly, as if to himself. His eyes locked on the fallen scales scattered across the floor. You take in a few deep breaths, watching him carefully as you build up the courage to speak.
“Please…” you gasp. The man’s eyes flicking up to yours, his features softening as he notices the fear in your eyes. “Please just let me go.”
The man scans your body quickly one last time, shock taking over his gaze as he scrambles to his feet, removing the weather jacket from around his shoulders and approaches you slowly. You flinch in fear, the man halting and holding his hands up as he takes a small step back.
“No, no. It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. Please, just take this. I don’t want you to get cold.” He slowly hands the jacket in your direction. You eye it carefully before looking back up at his face, trying to find any trace of deceit in his demeanor. You find nothing but softness, allowing yourself to accept his offer, taking the jacket from his hands and wrapping it around you.
“Thank you,” you mutter, clutching the jacket closer to you as you continue to watch your unexpected savior.
“Here, let me help. We should get your wounds patched up,” He says to you as he slowly approaches you again, his hand still held out towards you. This time looking to help you to your feet. You cautiously take his hand, allowing him to pull you upright. You let go of him prematurely, not anticipating how shaky your lower body would be. You try to take a step forward, following him to a nearby bench only for your newly formed legs to give way causing you to start to fall forward and straight into the man’s arms. “Woah, easy there. Hold on tight, okay?”
You nod your head meekly, blushing as you hold on to his arm as he walks you to the bench and sits you down. Your hand slides down his arm as you let him go, allowing you to feel the firmness of his muscles as he pulls away. He kneels down beside you, opening a small door under the bench and pulls out a small red case. You watch him as he moves, eyes falling on to the wide expanse of his shoulders as he opens up the case, pulling out various bandages and ointments. He looks back up at you and you quickly look away. Your blush deepening from being caught staring at him. You notice his smirk out of the corner of your eye as he holds out his hand, gesturing towards the injuries on your side. “May I?” he asks you, the gentleness in his tone chipping away at your resolve. You nod once again, moving the jacket just enough to expose your injuries to the man.
He quickly goes to work, silence falling between the two of you as he starts cleaning your wounds. You watch him as he works, admiring the determination in his eyes. You observe his face, tracing the slight dip of his nose and observing the pink plushness of his lips. Finding it cute how he has them slightly parted as he focuses on your scratches. As if he feels you watching him, his eyes flicker up to meet your gaze for only a second before looking back down at his current task and clearing his throat.
“So what's your uh… Or do you have a name? What can I call you?” He asks you, a blush creeping up on his face as he starts to feel self conscious over his question.
You giggle at the cuteness, knowing this has to be a new social experience for the two of you. This being the first time you’ve ever interacted so closely with a human and, considering his reaction earlier, this would be his first interaction with someone of your kind as well. You clear your throat as well, hoping your shyness has subsided enough for you to be able to speak clearly.
“I do. It’s Y/N. Thank you for saving me. I would have never expected this type of kindness from a human.” You smile down at him as he chuckles at your words. He places the last of the bandages on your wounds, packing up the small case and placing it back in its spot beneath the bench.
He looks up at you, blessing you with a breathtaking smile that knocks the air from your lungs. The sight of the simple gesture melting away the rest of the protective guard you held up and seeping straight into your heart, wanting nothing more than to stay this close to him. You feel the warmth radiating from his hand that’s resting on your exposed knee, finding comfort in the closeness from this complete stranger. You don’t notice how out of tune with reality you become until you see his lips start to move, the honey sweet baritone of his voice bringing you back to the moment. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N. My name is Seokjin.”
He let you stay on the boat that night, allowing you to take the bed as he slept up on the couch in the cabin. Giving you somewhere safe to stay as you waited for morning, in hopes that it will allow you a safe return into the ocean to reunite with your tribe. You had thought you would never see him again, but fate had a different plan. It was only two short weeks later that you found yourself venturing upon his boat. You had stayed a safe distance away, wondering just how many boats with purple stripes down the side existed on this side of the water. It wasn’t until you saw the enscripted boat name “Epiphany” on the side shortly before the handsome, wide shouldered captain made his appearance. The moment he noticed you approach his vessel, he gave you the warmest smile, helping you onboard and offering you a blanket to cover your transforming body.
Since that day, the both of you made these little visits a weekly tradition. Spending the whole day learning about each other, swapping stories about each other's worlds. Growing closer and more intimate in your interactions the more time you spend with each other. The hellos and goodbyes were combined with hugs. Casual conversations were enhanced by subtle touches and soft grazes of each other's skin. Then one night during a full moon, the first of which you two were able to enjoy together, Seokjin found the courage to pull you close, asking you if it was okay to give you a kiss.
You remember being taken back by the softness of his plush lips, how your body melted into his from the tenderness of his touch. It wasn’t long before you began staying the night with Seokjin, sharing his bed while exploring each other’s bodies. You had never been touched by a man before. Had expressed that concern with him only to be comforted with the knowledge that he wouldn’t pressure you to do anything you didn’t want.
You smile at the memory of your shared nights together, not realizing you had made it to the Epiphany until you hear Seokjin’s voice cutting into your thoughts.
“Arms too tired to pull yourself up?” He teases you as he looks over the side of the boat, smiling as he watches you wading in the water.
You stick your tongue out, mocking his laughter as he reaches for you, helping you onto the deck. “ Ha ha. You’re quite the comedian, Jinnie,” you tease back, savoring each sound of his addictive laugh as it rings through your ears. Oh, how you’re going to miss that laugh.
The reminder of the oncoming storm brings your mood back down. The sudden shift in your demeanor doesn’t slip past Seokjin. His brows furrow in concern as he watches you, handing you the towel and one of his t-shirts he had waiting for you. You start to pat your scales dry, refusing to look at him as you’re not quite ready to break the news. Much to your dismay, Seokjin was not on the same page as you.
“What’s wrong, love?” His voice addresses you softly. His genuine concern for you wraps you in a warm embrace, causing unwanted tears to begin to pool at your waterline. You still don’t look up at him. Your gaze trained on your shedding scales as you dry off your upper body before pulling his t-shirt over you. As the fabric passes your nostrils, you breathe in deeply, taking in every note of his scent and committing it to your memory. Your heart begins to ache with every breath you take. You finally look up at him once your legs finish transitioning, standing from your spot on the deck. He reaches out to help steady you, a reaction you know he did without even thinking. The ache in your heart deepens as you grab onto his forearms to balance.
You take a deep breath as you prepare yourself for what you’re about to say. “I have to leave, Jin.”
His features contort in confusion, his hands still on your waist as he questions your words. “So soon? But you just got here,” he responds, the gravity of your statement completely lost on him.
“No,” you say as you shake your head. Tears threaten to spill over as your voice begins to shake. “I have to leave. The storm, Jin. It’s coming.”
Jin continues to look at you in confusion. It takes a full minute before he realizes what you mean, his eyes growing wide with panic indicating to you that he’s caught on.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “It could be just a terrible storm. Just like before.”
The hopefulness in his voice nearly breaks you. You wished he was right. Wished this was just a false alarm. It was almost a year ago from this day when you thought the storm for the migration was starting. There were only small indicators that the brewing weather was going to be it, but enough indicators that had you convinced it was going to happen. It was also the first night you gave yourself completely to Seokjin, wanting your last night with him to be a memorable one. When you had learned in the following days that the threatening storm had passed, you were ecstatic, wasting no time to race back to Seokjin and into your rightful place beside him. You spent every night with him in his arms ever since. But now the omens of what's to come are back again. And this time they are very much real.
You shake your head at him once again, stepping into him and leaning your head onto his chest as he wraps his arms around you. Holding you tightly as if you were going to disappear right there. “I’m sure of it, Jinnie. The tribe’s elders confirmed it this morning. The storm will be here in three days.”
Silence grows between you two as you stand there holding each other. You have no idea what to say at this moment. No idea what either of you could say, but you just want to hear his voice. Just want to hear it as much as possible before your inevitable departure. As you fail to search for something to say, you feel the vibrations in his chest from him starting to talk and you're grateful that it’s only one of you that's at a loss of words. It’s not until you hear what he asks that you wish the two of you sat in silence just a little longer.
“What if you don’t leave? You can stay with me. Live by the shore, somewhere remote where you’ll be safe.”
Your tears begin to fall freely as you pull away from him. His arms only loosen around you slightly, giving you just enough space to lean back and look up at him. “Bad things happen to mermaids who get separated from their pack. The loneliness will eat away my soul, changing me into something dangerous. I would no longer be myself.”
“Then I’ll come with you,” Jin states confidently, looking down at you with determination in his eyes. Your tears fall faster as you shake your head again.
“It’s too dangerous, Jin. The storm will kill you. The Gods created this specifically to keep us safe as we travel in masses.”
Jin closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he leans his forehead against yours. His breathing becomes ragged as he continues to hold you closely. “Then stay with me until you need to leave. Only if you can,” he whispers to you, the slight tremble in his tone crushing your heart.
“I can do that,” you respond, leaning up on tiptoes as you place a soft kiss on his plush lips.
The two of you spend the rest of your day talking, Jin asking every possible question he can think of, trying to find a way to decipher where this storm may take you. You answer him the best you can with the limited information that you have. Tribal Elders have tried their best to determine a pattern in the way your new homes were chosen, but never find anything concrete. It is a decision truly left up to the Gods.
As night falls upon you, you feel the exhaustion come over you. Slowly leading Seokjin to the bed, you curl up into him the moment you both settle onto the mattress, clinging on to him with all your might. Not wanting to part from him until you absolutely have to. He places soft kisses on your head as he holds you just as close, humming to you in his sweet voice as he starts to rock the two of you to sleep.
Not wanting to sleep just yet, you readjust yourself slightly, allowing yourself enough space to move closer to Jin’s lips, kissing them as soon as you reach them. He kisses you back and you waste no time to deepen the connection, licking his bottom lip with your tongue as a wordless request to enter. He reciprocates, the both of you parting your lips, your appendages dancing around each other in a fiery passion.
You run your hand down his bare body, slowly making your way to the hem of his pants. Seokjin stops you, grabbing your hand into his own.
“We don’t have to do this,” Jin whispers to you, trailing kisses along your face. “Being here with you is enough.”
“I want to, Jin. Please, make love to me.” Your voice shakes in your response, your lips trembling from the sob building in your chest. Jin stops it with his own lips, capturing yours into another deep kiss.
Releasing your hand, Jin helps you undress himself before pulling your lone shirt from over your body. He lays you back against the bed, placing more soft kisses across your face before trailing his lips down your body. He stops at your breast, taking a moment to circle your pert nipples with his tongue. He gives each a small suck, the sensation causing you to arch your back, shoving your breast further into his face. Before releasing the last bud, Jin gives it a soft nibble, chuckling at the light gasp that escapes from you before continuing to lower himself down your body.
As he makes it to your core, he places your legs on his shoulders, rubbing your thighs as he looks up at you. “I’ll take care of you, my love. I’ll make sure you never forget tonight,” he coos at you as he places two fingers on your lips, forming a V with them to spread you apart. You feel him lick a strip right up your center. A delicious shiver crawls up your spine at the satisfying feeling. He gives you another lick, making a point to flick his tongue against your clit once he reaches the top. You feel your arousal leaking from your heat as Jin repeats his movements. You let out a groan with each stroke, your legs beginning to shake on top of his shoulders from the subtle teasing.
You feel him gather your wetness on two fingers, slowly slipping both inside of you at once. You arch your back again at the pressure, trying your best not to squirm with each pump of his hands. Jin holds you down by the waist with his other hand to keep you in place as he picks up his speed, scissoring his fingers every few pumps to spread you apart. The moment you feel your walls begin to quiver, the pressure against them growing from the third finger Seokjin adds into your hole. He begins to move even faster, adding a curl to his fingers with each passing stroke. It’s not long before you feel a knot form inside of you, your toes curling at pleasure coursing through your body. You quickly feel yourself approaching the edge of your orgasm, the growing volume of your moans giving Jin a good indication of how close you really are. You think you hit a stall in your pleasure when Jin surprises you, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard. It’s not until he gives your swollen nub a quick flick with his tongue that the knot releases, your body shaking as you cum around his fingers.
Jin continues to finger you through your orgasm, slowing his speed as he helps ease you down. The euphoric feeling takes over your body, too busy riding the high to notice Jin removing himself from your core. You’re barely down from your high when you feel Seokjin hover above you, slowly lining himself up to your pulsing entrance. He rubs the head of his cock around your slick hole, gathering us as much of your juices as he watches you, waiting to see if you’re okay with what’s to come next.
“Do you want to keep going, my love?” he asks you so sweetly. The tenderness in his tone sings to your heart, the need for him growing with each passing moment.
“Yes, Jinnie. Please. Need you,” You whimper as you slowly push down onto him, your body begging to feel him where you want him the most.
“I’m all yours, darling,” he assures you, pushing into you at the same time.
You both groan in unison at the sensation. Jin slowly pumps in and out of you, sinking into you deeper with each motion as he patiently waits for your walls to adjust to him. As he buries himself inside of you, he watches your face for any signs of pain only to be met with your features contorting in pleasure. He pauses his movements, waiting for you to give him a sign that you're ready to continue. You try to answer him by grinding down your hips, only resorting to a verbal response once you notice he didn’t pick up on the action.
“Move, Jinnie. Please,” you whine as you wrap your hands around his shoulders, bringing him into you for a kiss. Jin starts his pace off slow, matching it with the speed of your shared kiss. Your walls continue to pulse around him with each slow drag, the tip of his length hitting that small bundle of nerves deep inside of you every time he buries himself to the hilt. You shamelessly whine for more, Jin wasting no time to answer the call. He speeds up his pace, pumping inside of you relentlessly. The familiar knot grows inside you quickly once again as each thrust pushes you closer to another release. You can sense Jin’s release coming closer as well by the way his thrusts become shorter and sloppier. He breaks your lips apart, leaning his forehead against yours as you both pant in pleasure.
“Cum with me, darling,” he groans as he moves one of his hands in between your bodies, placing his thumb on your swollen clit and rubbing it in circles. The added sensation is enough to send you back over the edge, your walls clamping down on Jin’s shaft with each pulse of your release as you call out his name. His own release overcomes him as he slams inside of you, filling you with his warm seed as he joins you, groaning out your name. He braces his arms beside your head, trying his best to keep himself from crushing you under his body weight, leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss.
The next two days were spent exactly like this. The two of you never leaving the safety of the cabin, pretending like the outside world no longer existed. It was just the two of you in this bed, sharing the love you have for each other in every way possible.
By the dawn of the third day, the slight rocking of the boat from the restless waves wakes you, warning you that the migrating storm has begun. Jin stirs beside you, feeling your movements as you start to climb out of the bed. He sits up next to you, grabbing your arm before you are able to fully climb off the mattress and pulls you into him, hugging you to his body as he whispers into your ear, “Please, not yet. Just give me a few more minutes.”
You don’t argue or try to move. Knowing good and well you’d regret not taking these last few minutes when you have the chance. You hold each other in silence for just a few more minutes before Jin cups your chin gently, angling your face to kiss you deeply. You return it, the two of you pouring every once of love you have for each other into the kiss. After another moment, you force yourself to pull away, standing from the bed as you face the man before you. The boat now rocking more heavily as the winds begin to pick up.
“You have to leave now, Jin. You’re running out of time before it becomes unsafe.”
He slowly nods his head as he begins to move, quickly dressing himself as soon as he gets up from the bed. You reach out your hand, watching as he takes it willingly, interlocking your fingers together as he starts to pull you towards the stairs leading to the deck. You walk in silence to the back of the boat, not finding the courage to release his hand, silently wishing to the Gods that you didn't have to leave.
You turn to him, looking up at him as he smiles sadly down at you. “Please don’t forget me,” you whisper softly, tears once again falling down your cheeks.
Jin reaches up with his free hand, wiping away the droplets as his own tears begin to streak his face. “I’ll never forget you. We’ll see each other again. This is not how we end.”
The confidence in his tone stabs at your heart. Filling you with a hopefulness that you know will only crush you in the end. “How are you so sure?” you croak as your tears fall harder. “The world is big, and I have no idea where I’ll go and when.”
“The sea brought us together before, it will help us find each other again.” Jin leans down to kiss you one last time, as if to seal his uncertain promise. After a moment, he backs away, releasing your held hands at the same time. “Now go, before it's too late. I will find you. I promise. I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you, Seokjin.”
You give each other one last look before you turn around. You take a deep breath before diving into the water, the scales of your tail forming quickly from the moisture. You swim yourself a ways towards the direction of your tribe, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and the man you love before resurfacing. Fearing that your resolve would not be strong enough to keep you from returning back to him. Once you feel like you made it far enough, you swim towards the surface, turning around immediately as you break out of the water. Your heart rips into tiny pieces as you watch the image of the Epiphany disappearing into the distance.
It’s been five months now in your new home. The beauty of the ocean and surrounding islands are just as captivating as all your previous homes, but something is keeping you from being able to enjoy your new slice of paradise. Something that you miss dearly every single day since you migrated. You feel the need to clear your mind, no longer wanting to dwell in your own sadness. You venture out into your new territory, swimming out further than you have before. You’re not sure why you do it, wandering this far out from the safety of your tribe being a completely reckless choice to make. Your only reasoning being that you’re just allowing the sea to take you wear you need to go, trusting in the Water Gods to keep you safe as you free float along the surface of the water. You happen upon a small island cove, hiding behind the tall rocks protruding from the water to provide you shelter from the heat of the sun. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the ambience of the ocean as the subtle song of waves breaking starts to lull you into a dream.
Your mind wanders to your lost love, your heart aching for him as you imagine what he could be doing at this very moment. You picture him on his boat, leaning over the edge with a fishing pole in hand. The image in your mind being drawn from pieces of your memories. The vision feels so real, so detailed in your mind, you feel like you can practically hear the soft rumble of his boat engines.
Suddenly, you feel a displaced vibration in the water, the very rumbles you were just imagining now sounding a lot louder and much closer than your distant memory. You lean up from your free float, looking around you for whatever may be causing the disruption to your day dreaming. Peering out into the horizon, you faintly see a small vessel approach you. You quickly duck behind the nearest rock, hoping whoever is approaching hasn’t noticed you. You start to slowly sink under the surface, preparing yourself to make your escape when a sudden pull in your heart begs you to stop.
You peer out from your cover, watching the small boat carefully as it moves closer. The boat turns ever so slightly, allowing the purple stripes along the side to become visible. Your eyes grow large, a wide smile spreading across your face as you jump from around the secrecy of the rock and swim closer to the approaching vessel, the silhouette of it’s wide shouldered captain becoming more visible with each passing stroke.
#bangtaninn#bangtansorciere#bangtanarmynet#kwritersworldnet#btswritingcafe#hyunglinenetwork#bts smut#seokjin smut#bts fanfic
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devotion (douma x f!reader)
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summary: His pet watched as the metal was heated. Douma held the poker like it was precious; watching in delight. Black steel turning dangerously red was quite the show. Certainly, his excitement was sweetened by… her. Even now, Douma was sure she regarded him with disinterest. She would learn this was to her benefit.
"Are you excited, little one?" Douma mused.
She simply nodded, words unable to form. Her savior finally saw her bare. Heat bloomed across her face. She wanted his hands to roam her body and learn every curve. Waiting for his touch left an ache in her chest. Her breathing came out in spurts. The room felt too hot -- too humid.
warnings: blood and injury, mild gore, vaginal fingering, cults, public humiliation, branding, yandere elements, dismemberment, loss of fingers, smut, etc. etc.
word count: 3.3k
shoutout to @calslaundry for the beta read
a/n: hello friends, apologies for the lack of content! i haven't written in a while + this my first kny fic 😭
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She came to him in a miserable state -- her delicate body broken. Blood, like ribbons, flowed from her stomach. The wound was deep and hideous. Yet, the woman before him wore a serene expression, as if unaware of her current state. The sight brought amusement to Douma. His thin lips pulled into the phantom of a grin. Rainbow eyes dilated and focused on her pitiful form.
Behind her bounded a man; his skin filthy and caked in dried crimson. He looked disheveled, as if the listless woman struggled. Sweat kept his hair slick across his forehead. In his hand, his shaky little human hand, was a butcher knife.
"Stay out of this! She's…" The man trails off, waiting for the words to materialize, "My wife." The word sounds slimy, uncomfortable, coming from him. To punctuate his love, a calloused hand gripped the woman.
No sound came from her. Perhaps, she was his wife. Douma continued to observe the dramatic affair; fingers laced together. His expression was nothing less than curious. A carnal morbidity he wanted to see through.
Suddenly, the woman collapsed. Her skin lacked the rosy pigment so beloved by mortals. The man stumbled and instinctively cradled her wound. Disgust formed onto his features -- the man seemingly unaware of her state.
Douma felt blood drumming in his ears. This tiny, injured woman came to him near death, but didn't utter a single grievance. She had remained stoic despite her hideous wound. "Leave her."
Without a second thought, the man abandoned his would-be wife. His rapid footfalls echoed down the hall as Douma examined his pet. He noted how elegant her kimono was -- its silk now reddened and ruined. Douma believed the blood complimented her, and brought out her softness. Softness Douma wanted to destroy.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
Her eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly. The room was unlike her little hovel. Innate gold and rubies were encrusted within every aspect; nothing less of excess. A room fit for a god. Perhaps this was her afterlife. Delicate fingers prodded her stomach -- the flesh swollen and blemished. Her fingertips brushed against the barb of wire. Lifting the simple Yukata, the woman noticed how intricate the stitching was. Black wire woven into itself to mimic the intricate shape of a flower.
"You're awake, my dear friend!" The voice was cheerful and deep. The sound not unlike the rumble in a summer storm.
Silence marked their conversation.
Floorboards creaked; a sign her mysterious caretaker was advancing. "Is my dear friend deaf?" This time, the man's voice held annoyance. A blatant disregard for his kind words left a rotten taste in the demon's mouth.
"I apologize for the trouble I caused you," she confessed, head level with the floor. The newly stitched woman was bowing before him. Had she hoped to mimic his congregation?
Unlike his devotees, her body didn't shake. No, her insignificant form stayed rigid. The slender curve of her back was straight, eyes still regarding the floor. Truthfully, Douma found himself savoring the view of this mortal. She seemed so obedient -- so unafraid of him.
The damned sentence stumbled last Douma's lips, "Stay with us; with me." Suddenly, the woman sensed a large hand atop her head, "You need to heal, my friend."
Tears began to foam at her eyes -- this man's kindness was unfamiliar. This rainbow eyed stranger not only stitched up her broken body, but offered sanctuary.
"Thank you." Douma noted the monotonousness of her voice. Here this pitiful woman was, her briny tears reeking, and yet she remained stoic. The scent was pleasant; as if crushed roses and salt had been mixed. Douma had noticed her blood carried a similar scent.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
The days that followed were… familiar. Her days fell into structure. First, worship in the morning. Then, chores and her first meal followed by more chores. Finally, as dusk settled, her makeshift family gathered within the main hall for a special dinner. However, the dinner wasn't any fundamentally different. The menu still consisted of rich meats and exotic fruits, but their meal was special because of him.
At the end of their long, gold flecked table sat the rainbow eyed Douma. His face carried his typical jubilant expression. A soft smile graced his face -- leaving his eyes bright and lively. He watched his flock with interest, his eyes all too often falling upon his wounded pet. 'Pet' seemed to fit this woman far more than any word; she was compliant. The woman finished every task created for her. Her devotion to him -- only him -- brought a budding flush to his cheeks.
It was true the women of his cult would die for him. Their single-minded loyalty was stereotypical, expected. They chose to bleed for him, but once faced with their own mortality, his devotees lost steam. And yet this harpy had bled at his feet -- asked for his forgiveness.
Douma watched as the woman carefully gripped her chopsticks. Her hands were slender, and as soft as blooming flowers. In another world, Douma would have described her as delicate, but all the demon could feel was disdain. There was something so innocent about her fingers. Douma's eyes continued to flick between her face and hands. Such soft things devoid of callouses -- devoid of humanity.
His mind didn't typically race like this. Images of this woman seemed to plague him during dinner. She was a sickness that he couldn't shake. Her body had infiltrated him -- illustrating fantasies of him breaking her fingers and laughing as he ate them. Would she finally scream, finally allow herself emotion? Or would she succumb to him?
Douma's thin lips curled into a grin.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
"I don't want to ruin the elaborate textiles, sir." It was a habit to call him sir as her eyes bore into the floor. The woman acted like she was… unworthy to even glance at the demon. She seemed to make herself scarce when Douma was around. But now, she was forced ⁸to meet his face. Forced to tailor his clothing, despite the woman having no seamstress experience.
Douma didn't mind if his clothes were ruined. He merely wanted to observe his pet create with her hands.
A large hand rested atop her head, "Do not worry, my dear friend! I picked you for this. Do you not trust my judgement?" His question was more of a test than anything. He wanted to see more of her sickened devotion to him.
"I trust you," the woman replied, her hands buried in rich fabric. His clothes made her hands itch. Yet, she hid any discomfort. This was a task bestowed upon her -- it was the least she could do. This man had saved her life.
In the corner of his view, Douma saw it, the phantom of a smile. His emotionless pet still held humanity. However, the happiness stopped at her lips. Nothing seemed to reach her eyes.
"That expression suits you," his breath tickled her ear, "little one." The sensation of him -- his warmth was enough to quicken her pulse. A blush rose to her cheeks.
Before she could thank him, Douma vanished. She wanted to glance into his chromatic eyes. They held a light she hadn't noticed before. Something so spectacular and light.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
Darkness naturally crept into Douma's eyes. The demon couldn't pinpoint a moment of emotion. It was as if he was born void of humanity. Perhaps that was his reason for being so disgustingly soft upon this woman.
She was in a tangled mess before him; eyes perpetually to the floor. The more he saw her like this -- the more Douma longed for her gaze. He was the only one worthy of her.
"This little runt broke the vase, my lord." Beside his little pet stood a woman; one of his most devoted. Yet, her very voice annoyed him.
Douma shifted in his throne, "What of it?" His face was contorted into happiness, but there was a callousness to him. A viper waiting in the grass.
The woman's expression hardened.
"Shouldn't she be punished, my lord?" Her question wasn't more than a whisper. This was common for his most loyal of followers; cowardly mortals that were afraid of him.
Douma leaned forward, his rainbow eyes lacking any compassion, "Are you telling me what to do?"
"N-no! I'd never, my lord! Please -- please forgive me, Lord Douma!" Her pleas flowed like a river; excuse upon excuse. Douma used to take pleasure in a maiden's distress. Now, he simply felt bored -- empty.
Certainly punishing his pet and maiming her would bring relief. Mortals were for his enjoyment, after all.
"Stand up," Douma commanded.
His voice sounded of the gods; nectar too sweet for human ears. His wounded pet felt heat rise to her cheeks. Gently, she assumed a knelt position, hands folded in her lap. They looked so delicate, so perfect for him. Saliva pooled in his mouth. His fantasy of her seemed unending.
"Sit," the demon motioned to his feet. "You are to stay until I find a suitable punishment, my dear friend." Without hesitation, his pet assumed her position. Her hands were now clear in Douma's view, tiny things clasped together.
As if satisfied, his devotee blended back into the crowd.
Even his presence was warmth; she could feel his radiance. Lord Douma was the opposite of her husband -- his chromatic eyes held nothing but comfort. He had opened his home to her, and allowed her to join his congregation. He was the sun; bright and nourishing.
His pet felt as if her heart would burst. Being this close to him -- to Lord Douma was almost overwhelming. He practically dwarfed her; his frame tall and muscular. Lord Douma's presence was suffocating above her. Lewd flashes of her savior played on loop. Silver hair slicked back, his bare chest on display, muscles flexing.
Quickly, she looked away from the demon with a silent curse on her lips.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
Several days pass. Douma's pet had yet to leave his side. Her punishment was decided the second day she sat at his feet, but Douma found her presence… human. Slowly, she brought forth an emotion; serenity. Her very breathing seemed to lull him. In another life, she would have made a man very happy.
The demon's eyes shifted to his maiden. Her face was stoic as ever. She looked… Miserable? The thought made Douma's blood burn; sitting between his feet was a privilege. No other woman of the cult had been so close to him before.
Douma's thick brows knitted together in annoyance, "We should prepare for your punishment, shouldn't we?" Plastered on his face was the smile she yearned for.
"Yes, my lord."
Douma clapped his hands. Suddenly, his harem of women began to spill into the room. They looked to him like god; eyes wide and wanting. He cherished his cult for their devotion, something that would benefit him today.
He tilted his head and pointed, "Strip her." Douma's instruction was materialized before him. Her body laid in the brood of his women. Bruises marked her body like bee stings; his most devoted had such vicious means. Her exquisite yukata was ruined. Shreds hung to her trembling form.
She made him sick.
"Hold her down, my dear friends~!" Douma's feigned happiness crinkled at his eyes. To any nonbeliever, he looked human, yet his followers knew better. They knew behind the facade was a monster; a man bent on misery. "Bring me the brand."
His pet watched as the metal was heated. Douma held the poker like it was precious; watching in delight. Black steel turning dangerously red was quite the show. Certainly, his excitement was sweetened by… her. Even now, Douma was sure she regarded him with disinterest. She would learn this was to her benefit.
"Are you excited, little one?" Douma mused.
She simply nodded, words unable to form. Her savior finally saw her bare. Heat bloomed across her face. She wanted his hands to roam her body and learn every curve. Waiting for his touch left an ache in her chest. Her breathing came out in spurts. The room felt too hot -- too humid.
The demon sauntered over to his pet, the brand now smoking. "Stay still," he murmured. It was her shred of justice before Douma plunged the brand between her breasts. First there was silence. Then came a cry unlike any before. Loud. Anguished. Heart wrenching. It was the sound of his pet bearing her soul. Something so private, meant only for him.
He pressed the metal further into her flesh. Burnt skin reached his nostrils; her scent wasn't unlike roasted boar. Rich, gamey. His mind painted her nude and covered in sake. Underneath his regalia, Douma felt blood rush to his cock. Douma looked at her, waiting for another cry. Yet, she regained composure. Her skin was balmy and she trembled.
Finally, her eyes met his. Douma sees the hint of relief -- as if she wanted this. "L-lord Douma," she slurred. His gaze shifted to her lips; anticipating her speech. Nothing left her except a heave. A soft little noise before she passed out, limp and vulnerable. Somehow, Douma felt sorry for her.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
The woman woke with a jolt; air burning her lungs. Gasping, she took inventory of the dimly lit room. The space was more of the caricature of a room. It was a bedroom, but looked almost unlived in. Everything was too perfect. The realization came as she touched her chest. This was Lord Douma's private quarters. A place reserved for his most devoted.
...and here she was, laying in his bed.
Her chest was tender. The skin was charred and bandaged. She wondered if Lord Douma himself had treated her. The fantasy brought a flush to her cheeks. She fingered the wound; gentle to trace its shape. Between her breasts was a delicate lotus; her body marked forever.
"I can hear you, my dearest friend," his voice sounded like rainfall after a drought. "Come. Bring me more sake."
Beside the futon was a gourd. The object was heavy; enough for two hands if not more. Truthfully, his pet struggled to lift it. The liquid inside sloshed around like the sea. It carried a sweet smell. Fruity. Radiant. The scent reminded the woman of Lord Douma.
Soft humming filtered into the room, the source not far. Practically dragging the sake, his pet ventured towards the sound. Towards him.
With the push of a door came humidity and steam. The atmosphere was sticky and too warm. Lord Douma had created a swamp instead of a bath.
His booming tone shook the room, "Come closer, little one." The phrase sent goosebumps up her spine.
She continued to drag the gourd across slick tile. His pet didn't want to make a fool of herself. However, with each step came unequal footing. She wobbled, trying to keep her grace and sake intact. One particularly heavy footfall was miscalculated. She fell onto the porous ground with a sharp bang; the gourd in pieces at her feet.
"Clumsy, aren't we, little one?" His tone is lousy with arousal. The sentence vibrated from his chest.
"I'm sor--"
Douma only uttered a simple phrase, "Join me, my pet."
Her legs moved without authority. Douma had complete agency over her; bewitching his prey. It was the kindness she deserved, after all. She was his most devoted -- his most prized slab of meat. Partially, Douma believed she was plagued with bad luck. First the damned woman is stabbed, then she falls desperately into his lap. She was a fawn -- clumsy and aching for attention.
Muscles were the first thing she noticed, followed shortly by ashen hair. Somehow, his chromatic eyes still shined within the haze. He had to be a deity -- someone special.
Quickly, she averted her eyes. This sight wasn't meant for a mortal like her. Crimson hung to her cheeks like warpaint, the woman more blush than skin. His pet removed her yukata without ceremony. The elaborate fabric crumpled at her feet. Douma felt air pitch in his chest and blood rush to his cock.
"Sit in my lap."
His lover looked at him; her eyes curious and wanting and wide, pupils dilated. She shuffled into the bath, like a babe taking its first steps. Gingerly, she sat beside him. A hiss escaped her lips as the hot water meets her burn. Mortals -- as Douma knew -- were devoted to a fault.
A cold arm encompassed her waist. Douma pulled the mortal closer, her smell mixing with the bath. Saliva dotted at the corners of his mouth. His polite aurora seemed to drop -- the predator now before her. "It's okay, little one," his breath tickled her neck, "you can relax. You're safe."
Safe. He was safe. Her body untensed in his grip. The woman leaned into him, her bare back pressed into his chest. Her rapid heartbeat echoed into Douma; his body rang with her life force. It hurt to hold her like this. His instincts demanded he tear her apart, her blood diluting the water. Yet, he resisted. Instead, he took inventory of her hands. They were tender -- fragile. His broad hands engulfed hers as he rubbed circles into her palms.
Douma -- with grace -- lifted her fore and middle finger into his mouth. His fawn exhaled a gasp. The sudden movement caused her to wobble atop his knee. A hand rubbed her stomach, as if to provide comfort. Slobber leaked down her hand. Lord Douma's saliva. She wanted to bring the spit covered hand to her chest -- to feel a part of him. Douma sucked at her fingers. His tongue rolled over her knuckles and savored her.
"Lord Douma --"
Her words hung in muggy air. Only one sound penetrated through the room; a sob. The woman's blood mixed with unholy drool. In Douma's mouth were two delicate fingers -- her fingers. The sudden pang subsided, yet her heart continued to race. She was stuck; fear had collapsed in her veins. Her weak, mortal body shook. The sensation was uncontrollable.
"Stay still, my pet," Douma mused, his voice obstructed by gore. He refused to relent; his tone still cheery. Her body demanded she move, but her mind screamed for him. Torn between heart and brain, she quaked in his lap. Her hand fell limp into the bath water. Red blossomed beside her.
Douma's hands trailed down her body, as if to memorize her shape. His cockhead ached for stimulation -- for her. Without the air of a lord, Douma shifted his pet, her cunt now exposed to the heat. Carefully, he removed her disembodied fingers from his mouth. "Let me take care of you." His words were little more than a command -- no -- a threat.
Harshly, the demon shoved a finger into her cunt; the very finger he bit off. Disgust and lust bubbled together in her stomach. Naive eyes looked down as Douma pumped into her. A bloodied chin rested on his pet's shoulder. His humming vibrated into her bones. Thunderous. Awful.
Heat bloomed between her thighs. Lewd sounds of her core bounced off the walls. She bit her lip, stubborn and refusing to give into the demon.
Rainbow eyes drifted to her face, "Are you not satisfied, little one?" His tone faltered before a second finger jams into her soaking cunt. The woman's mouth betrayed her. Out came a wanton moan. Loud and squealing. Douma's face contorted into a grin, his breath beating upon her. "What's that? You want me to go faster~?" His pace burst into an almost hellish speed. The fingers hit her walls, scissoring her entrance. Douma acted as if he knew her very body. Roughly, he tweaked her nipple. Another cry pierced the air; his reward for her devotion.
"Come for me," Douma commanded, heavy humming now vibrating her jaw. "Show me your devotion." His voice wasn't more than a whisper, yet she felt the warmth between her thighs explode. The bundle in her stomach dissipated into bliss; eyes closed and breathing even.
Douma rubbed her cheek. This was perhaps his only action of humanity -- of charity. As his most devoted, she was worthy.
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4 with HR 🔥
“Naughty Girl” HR Wells x reader.
Warning: Smut, restrains, spanking.
Prompt: “You have no right to be mad” “Oh but I am mad, palm-twitchingly mad.”
Gif credits to the owner.
It was a given that this had not been your best idea, when you decided to push HR’s buttons a little for fun you had not expected it to go this wrong. It had started as a friendly night out with the team to the club Barry had picked off of Yelp. Everyone had joined, including HR and in between drinks your eyes would dart to find him, at the other end of the bar talking to Cisco. You had liked him since the first moment you saw him, everything about him was enigmatic, hypnotizing, the way he would talk himself into or out of situations, how he always seemed to try and fit in with the team and who could forget the cuff comment he had made that time Gypsy had come to take him. That fantasy lived in your head rent free since that day.
You weren’t oblivious to his lingering glances, you were almost completely sure that the man had some sort of feelings towards you, or at least he found you attractive. Maybe a little push was all he needed to make his move, maybe just a little teasing. You knew he was watching your every move, you could feel his eyes burning in your back as you moved around the dance floor, looking for the perfect opportunity.
It presented itself in the shape of a man sitting by the bar when you approached it to order a drink, the guy offered to buy it for you and although you were going to politely deny him you changed your mind quickly, this was the perfect chance. You thanked him and shared a few minutes with him, enjoying your drink as the guy made small talk with you. From the corner of your eye you could see how HR had moved his head not so subtlety to look at you both, the conversation he was having long forgotten, taking the chance you moved closer to the guy, gently grabbing his bicep to lean near his ear and whisper something only he could hear. His hand touched your knee, only trying to keep you balance but thanks to the angle at which you were positioned it looked like you were about to propose something very indecent to the man.
Turning your head slightly you saw the way HR’s hand gripped the counter edge so tightly his knuckles turned white before his face made a scowl similar to one of pain as he stormed out of the bar. You had taken it to far, this had only proved that he did like you and now he was outside, probably walking back to the labs thinking you were about to go with that guy to his place.
Excusing yourself you made your way through the crowd, out the door to find the writer. He was a few steps ahead, walking with his hands in his pockets.
“HR,” you called after him, trying to catch him.
He stoped but didn’t turn around, his back was turned to you as you caught up to him, touching him gently to look at you. You didn’t think you had ever seen him mad, but he looked furious.
“Why did you leave like that?” You asked him, playing dumb as to not add anymore guilt to yourself.
“I had enough of being out.” He replied dryly. He shrugged himself out of your touch and started walking again.
“Hey, wait, HR wait why are you so upset?” You kept going after him.
“You know why I’m mad, you are smart I’m sure you have figured it out by now.” He whispered, his eyes focus on your face.
“I was just messing around, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You guiltily added, the alcohol had dogged your judgment and maybe you had not made all the right choices regarding your approach. He didn’t say anything, having a few drinks on himself too, he just wanted to get back to his makeshift room and sleep it away. He had been stupid to think you would have liked him back, to think you would be interested in someone his age who wasn’t even that smart. Suddenly Harry’s words about how you could never like him and how you deserved so much better ran through his mind, only adding insult to the injury.
“Hey! Wait! HR come on! You have no right to be mad!” You stomped your feet before crossing your arms over your chest.
“Oh but I am mad! Y/n I’m palm-twitchingly mad. I am mad at myself for, for thinking I had a chance, for thinking that you would give me a chance, and if tonight has proven anything is that you are too good for me.” He confessed to you, finally, and your eyes widened a little as you listened to him, he was so sweet. The guilt of causing him pain dawned on you. He had turned around, he was going to keep walking back to the lab when your voice suddenly made him choke on air as he turned around.
“Why don’t you let me decide that and prove to you how good for me you can be?” You said, your voice trying to sound as seductive as you could make it as you held both your wrist together in front of you, in a way that signaled how you were giving yourself up to him, watching the way his eyes moved from your face to your stretched arms.
He grabbed one of your wrist, moving you forward against his chest, colliding his lips with yours, his kisses were hungry, desperate but dominating at the same time, the way his teeth nibbled at your bottom lip, pulling slightly for you to open your mouth for him. His tongue overpowered yours, tasting the alcohol in your mouth as he explored it. His hands moved to your lower back, pulling you flush against him, yours found his hair, pulling at it while your mouth moved to continue kissing along his jawline until you reached his earlobe.
“Why don’t we go back to my place and you can show me how much of a bad girl I have been.” You seductively whispered in his ear, while your hand moved to his hip, squeezing it lightly.
Faster than what you could process he had wrapped his hand in your hair to kiss you again, making sure to bite on your lip and suck on your tongue with his mouth, leaving you breathless before breaking away from the kiss to get a taxi back to your place. The tension in the car could be felt through the air, his hand possessively on your thigh while his mouth moved to kiss your neck as his other hand held your head in place, his grip on your leg would tighten every time he could feel a moan threatening to escape out of you.
Once out of the car and through your apartment door, the moment the door closed he had you back on his arms. His hand moved to the bottom of your dress, bringing it over your head, your hands opening the buttons on his shirt, taking it off of him as his predatory eyes saw the way you were biting your bottom lip in anticipation. He moved forward to kiss you again, while his hands gripped at your sides before moving up and cupping your breast, squeezing them deliciously before he moved them down your back until they reaches your ass, his hands tangled in your underwear pulling it up enough to rub against your wetness and expose your butt cheeks for him, his hand quickly moved down again, gripping harshly at your butt before he slapped it, making you gasp and throw your head back as your hands gripped his shoulders tightly. He moved you backwards until your back hit the dining table, this being the closest surface he had seen.
“I can’t wait to show you just how bad you have been.” He whispered while his fingers grazed down in between your breast, his eyes blown with lust as he took you in.
“What a shame we don’t have cuffs.” You blurted out, watching a smirk appear on his face.
“Don’t worry babygirl, I don’t need handcuffs to keep you in place.” He said as his hand moved to the clip of his belt, undoing it and pulling it out of his pants.
“Hands out,” he commanded, waiting for you to move your wrist in front of him, wrapping the belt tightly around them but leaving a long stripe in the end of it.
“If you want to stop at any point you just tell me.” He reassured you, waiting for you to nod in confirmation.
Once he was sure you wanted to keep going, he grabbed the back of your thighs, moving you up on the table while simultaneously removing your underwear, enjoying the view this angle offered him of your wet folds as he pushed you back on the table. He unfastened his pants, letting them drop to the floor before he parted your legs and placed himself in the middle, hovering over you.
He captured your lips in a hungry kiss, his fingers moving down until they reached your entrance, he coated them before pushing one inside, making you moan in his mouth. When he felt you relax around him he added another, feeling the tightness and warmth of you and feeling his cock throb in his underwear. He started to curl them inside, moving the palm of his hand to grind against your clit, he found that sweet spot inside of you and his fingers moved faster, his lips trailing kisses along your neck, biting the skin and sucking harshly on it.
He could feel you writhing under him, tensing around his fingers as your moans became louder. Just as your orgasm was about to hit you he moved his fingers out, making you whimper in frustration and sit up slightly to look at him.
His hand shot out to your chest, pushing you back down before you could even begin to protest, he moved your leg around him, positioning the other over his shoulder as he lined himself at your entrance, teasing the head in between your folds, loving the way your face would break down in pleasure everytime he started to push his swollen head inside just to take it out again and repeat this process until your were a moaning mess under him.
He decided he had had enough of his own teasing and moving your leg out of his shoulder he wrapped his hand around the long side he had left on the belt to pull you towards him, sitting you up but leaving your hips on the edge of the table.
He positioned himself and pushed the head in, stopping to look at you, the way your eyebrows were knitting together and your mouth was slightly open, your half lidded eyes starting up at him.
“You are so naughty, you have no idea how many times I have dreamt of this moment.” He confessed while he pushed a little more inside, making your breathing quicken and your eyes close. He pulled harder at the belt, moving you closer to kiss you as he kept moving in.
Moaning you broke the kiss, not being able to keep quiet at the angle he was going in, the way he was stretching you and you could feel how he still had more to give.
“I’m almost all in, open your legs for me babygirl.” He groaned, his own eyes half lidded as he sheathed all of him within you.
His hips started moving at an unrelenting pace, his hands holding the loose end of the belt tightly to keep you in position, making sure you could feel every inch of his cock everytime he entered you. He loved the way your face contorted when he dragged it all the way out to slam it back in, how your hand would form fist and your breast bounced from the movements.
He felt himself getting close to his release, moving his other hand to brush his thumb over your clit, rubbing it and giving it the attention he knew would send you over the edge. He felt you tightening around him, he knew you were almost there.
“Come for me baby.” He groaned as his eyes closed, he wasn’t going to be able to hold it much longer at this pace.
His praise was all you needed as your orgasm washed over you, making you pulse around him. You heard him release a breath as he finally started to come, pulling himself out fast and coming over your stomach and legs, breathing deeply as his high started to wear off.
He gently untied your hands, helping you down from the table. Your hands found his, your eyes holding his gaze while you stood on the tip of your toes to give him a kiss, grabbing his hand and pulling him with you to the bedroom, silently offering him to stay the night with you.
This had definitely been your best idea, as after that night more would come where you both would spend them together, kissing and loving each other in bed.
@moize
@wintersire @harrisonwellsisdaddy
#the flash imagines#hr wells x reader imagine#hr wells deserved better#hr wells is a cutie#hr wells smut#harrison hr wells fanfic#hr wells imagine#hr wells x reader fanfic#hr wells x reader smut#harrison hr wells x reader#hr wells
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Let it Slip
Paring: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader
Rating: E (18+ only)
Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death, Unprotected Sex, Season 4 Spoilers for AOT/SNK
Word Count: 4.3K
A/N: Hello! Thank you to anyone taking the time to read this!! If you would like to skip the other notes please read this one: All characters are aged 18+ for the purpose of this story. This is my first actual posted smut! Not the first I’ve written (cause the other one is giving me incredible trouble) but please be kind, I am working my way to write better smut but I’m not great at it. I want to thank @lady-lunaaa for literally freaking everything. From listening to my extremely lose idea for this fic to helping me brain storm, to giving me the great idea that helped shape this fic into something deeper! (Can’t say up here cause spoilers to the fic). Thank you so much my wife for everything, for reading it multiple times when it was a whole mess, for never letting me give up on it, and for supporting me the whole way through! I love you dearly and this piece would not be a thing without you!!! Thank you to all my Smut Pile AOT loving friends who encouraged me to write for AOT. I don’t know if y’all want to be tagged so I won’t tag you but know that without y’all this fic would just be another idea in my head. Last note is if you would like some music to go along with this fic I recommend Shogeki by Yuko Ando, I Let it Slip by Christy Altomare, and Circles by Ludovico Einauldi & Greta Svabo Bech (Thank you Luna for this gorgeous song!) Hope you enjoy it and thanks again for reading!
None of this was supposed to happen. Being stuck here, finding solace in the Devils of this island, you. None of this was supposed to happen. There was just an added weight that he didn’t need. Thoughts fly through Reiner’s mind as the two of you find yourself attached to each other in your small home. Stars shining outside the windows with your flimsy curtains drawn. Everything was quiet, desolate, except for the heavy breathing coming from the two of you. Feelings of anticipation can be felt in the atmosphere. The desperation of this last moment together weighs heavily.
When he first met you, he never realized he would have these feelings. He doesn’t want to admit that it could ever be love or anything more profound. Because he hated you at the time, hated everyone on this forsaken island. All of you are- were devils, not much difference between your kind and the flies who circled the garbage.
He didn’t think much of you when you were introduced as the medic to help with on-site injuries while the scouts conducted training exercises. You didn’t matter to him. He wouldn’t need your help. He healed fast enough with the titan powers that he would never have to come in prolonged contact with you. But of course, as fate would have it, the two of you were brought together. During one of the training exercises, his ODM gear failed, and he ended up plummeting at least eighteen feet. Nothing was broken, but Shadis insisted, or more so demanded, he get checked for a concussion just in case he “dented that thick head.”
His first meeting with you was forced, feeling like a caged animal as your soft hands felt around his scalp for any bumps or cuts. This is not how he wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon, allowing a Devil to touch him, but there is no way he could go back without a clean bill of health from you. He needed to be training, to get better, to learn more, so he could return home. This was just an annoying roadblock to his mission.
Then something strange happened as your soft hands gently moved across his scalp. A tenderness he felt that he wasn’t sure he had ever experienced before. His mother had never been tender with him as a child, always preparing him to be a warrior, a savior. And his father, well, it was obvious his father didn’t want him or have even an ounce of love for him. Reiner found himself instinctively leaning closer to you. Almost like the child in him ached for that soft and gentle touch of someone. Your hands were clean and free of calluses, so different from his own. You didn’t smell like the sweat and grime of the people he was surrounded by every day. You smelled light and clean, it should have disgusted him, but instead, he found comfort in that scent. A calm washed over him as he closed his eyes and allowed you to finish your exam.
“Alright, big guy! I think you’ll be okay, but you should take it easy for the rest of the day.” Your voice is like a song in the silence as you pat gently against his broad shoulder; Reiner feels like the world around him has dissolved as he opens his eyes again to meet your bright eyes.
No, no, no, you are just another Devil of this island. This is just a mask you’re wearing; deep inside, everyone here is determined to destroy his people. This is the only truth he’s ever known. That’s the reason for this entire war. It is because the people here are wrong. His brain is screaming the messages he’s heard his entire life at him, but his heart is aching for your tender touch once more. He wants you to keep smiling and talking with him in that melodic voice. It’s almost like everything is melting away except for this moment between the two of you. But just as quickly as it started, it seems like it is over, and he’s reluctantly returning to his daily tasks.
Over the next few years, he avoids getting physically hurt during training. But he continually finds himself seeking you out for water or the towels you provide for the scouts when you are on-site for training. He can’t explain how his feelings changed from disgust to admiration for you, but he can’t deny the pull he feels to be near you. At first, he was a stuttering mess whenever he would see you. He couldn’t form any words except for “thank you,” immediately followed by a blush across his cheeks.
Every day you seem more beautiful than the last. He loves how your hair is always a mess from running around doing your duties, unable to be tamed. He feels his stomach flutter when he sees your eyes light up with excitement when you are able to help others. He can’t stop himself from smiling whenever he sees your smile, whether it’s small when you are trying to focus or big when your eyes meet his own. He loves the way your eyes crinkle at the edges like your face can’t hold all the happiness inside of it. Those few years of training go by quickly, and you grow closer over time with Reiner.
He doesn’t want to admit that he’s becoming closer with anyone here in this hell, but he can’t deny what his heart is aching for. He wants you; he wants to be with you. And so, after a while, he gives in. Annie and Berthold notice easily and warn him against it. It will only bring more pain to get attached to anyone; they are here for a mission. Don’t be stupid; this won’t last forever. And although Reiner’s brain says all the same things, he’s still drawn to you. He can’t ignore you or forget about you. He longs to touch you and spend any waking moment that he isn’t training with you.
Eventually, the two of you begin to steal kisses late at night before he returns to the barracks. They start out as soft and sweet pecks, that familiar blush returning to his face at first. But then they develop into deeper kisses that make him long for you even more. Your mouths end up melded together as his tongue explores your mouth. Leaving both of you breathless. Lips swollen from the searing kisses night after night.
And the separation makes him ache every time; he wants nothing more than to stay, nothing more than to hold you into the night. But he knows can’t be away from the barracks overnight. Not only would he be punished if Shadis ever caught him, but he also would never hear the end of it from Berthold. And either of those would mean less time with you, something he was not willing to give up.
So he settles for these heated kisses, with his large calloused hands clinging to your delicate waist as you hold tightly to his jacket. He would stay in this moment forever if he could. Clinging so tightly to this delusion where the two of you are happy, where he doesn’t have to be a warrior. Where he can have a future with you. The two of you could start a life, work typical jobs, have children. But that’s just a fantasy.
At some point, kisses develop into more. That undeniable pull between the two of you becomes like magnets that can’t be pulled apart. Reiner is in his final year of training, which takes up a lot of his time, but whenever he gets the chance, he finds you, and the two of you slip away to your home. It’s small but private, hidden amongst all the other homes in the area, wholly inconspicuous, and that’s all the two of you want. To be alone with each other. To forget about the horrors of this world and lay in bed forever after making love with his muscular body pressed tightly against your supple curves.
You always reach up to cup his face after sex. He still marvels at how soft your hands are compared to his. He feels so significant in those moments, so loved by you. If only things were different, his thoughts would continuously come back to this one. But they aren’t. He is still a warrior of Marley, and you are still a Devil of Paradis. And so he can never utter the words of love that are bursting at the seams. As much as it rips apart his heart from the inside out. He’s not going to be here forever; one of you will end up dead in this war, if not both of you. He can’t fool himself that the two of you can have a storybook ending.
He stays in these moments for as long as time allows. The warmth of your bodies mingling together, his face resting in your soft palms, and he pretends that this is his forever. Until he has to return to the barracks, back to the mission, back to the thing he was born to do because he can’t be with you like this forever. As much as that magnetic pull beckons him, he has to move forward.
Reiner never really thinks about how much you mean to him until the events at Trost. Before that fateful day, he talked with you about your plans for the week. This wasn’t necessarily abnormal for him; he always asked what you plan to do over the week. So you’re none the wiser of his intentions to make sure you would be nowhere near Trost when Berthold breaches the wall.
His logical brain and emotional heart seem to be battling inside of him. Reiner knows you won’t be alive forever, and he can’t outright tell you to stay out of Trost. But he feels more at ease knowing you plan to be home those days. An ache still comes up in him at the thought of possibly losing you. But it’s a pain that he can’t put a name to because he can’t love you. He just can’t. It would take away from his mission. It would be an illogical thing to love someone he can’t have a future with. So he ignores that aching feeling inside, begging to be let out, begging to be said.
But that all changes the day when The Battle of Trost takes place. Soaring above the rooftops, trying to keep track of the chaos, he spots your frame from far away. Panic courses through his veins as he comes to a stop on a rooftop near you and watches as you help the injured citizen make it to the next gate.
You aren’t supposed to be here. You idiot, what are you doing? His heart is racing, eyes darting back and forth for any incoming titans. He’s well aware that at any moment, one could fly through here and rip you to shreds. He shouldn’t care; he really shouldn’t, but even thinking of that scenario makes his heart ache so profoundly it feels like an open wound he can’t sew shut. With an exasperated breath, he maneuvers his way to the ground and grabs your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You said you’d be at home today!” You can hear the panic in Reiner’s voice as his grip tightens at your shoulder. His face is tense, and his eyes dart to the side every few moments, watching for threats. If anything came, he knew, he would pick you up and get you as far away as possible. The mission be damned.
But you are scared too, the usual smile on your face isn’t there. Worry is etched in your expression. Finally, both of your panicked eyes meet, and Reiner feels like he has been hit by a ton of bricks. Words form instantly in his mind. I love-no. His thought stops immediately; he cannot; he will not let himself even think like that.
You are trying to tell him you have to help people; it’s your job. You can’t leave people behind and just let them die. Reiner feels that familiar ache in his chest spread throughout his entire being and can’t stop himself from pulling you into a crushing hug. Tears sting in his eyes, threatening to fall as he takes in your familiar smell, your soft skin pressed against his; he knows he can’t lose you. If he thinks his ache from before hurts, it feels gaping now, like it’s been breached and ripped apart. He can never say those three words that keep threatening to slip out, but he does mutter into the top of your scalp, “please, I can’t lose you.” He pushes the other words begging to be released down even further. You feel tears begin to form in your eyes. A similar ache forms inside of you, both of you know this world wasn’t made for people who live long, for people looking for a future, but you can’t lose him either. And so you promise him that you will leave and find safety but that he has to come to see you once this is over. Reiner pledges that no matter what, he will come, and he shouldn’t make that promise; you are not his mission. He’s not supposed to stay here. But that feeling in the pit of his stomach won’t let him say anything else.
Reiner keeps his promise; once Trost’s events are done, and the warrior’s plans are put on hold while Hange does testing on Eren, Reiner returns to you. But this has to be his final goodbye. He can’t go back again. He has a mission, and he won’t be here for much longer. Soon the three of them will leave, and you can’t come with him. He doesn’t want to think about it, but he knows it’s the truth. His brain has already thought through running away, but he will die at a young age anyway. And as much as his heart aches for you, he cannot abandon his home.
This brings him to this moment, the two of you cuddled in a small bed in your secluded home. Hands intertwined as you lay on his chest. Your body slowly rises and falls along with his breathing. The ache is getting worse; that gaping wound inside of him feels like it is bleeding out. If he doesn’t say something, it will tear him apart forever.
Renier decides to let it all out. At this moment, hands clasped tightly with yours and your weight pressed against him. He can’t hold it back any longer. “I have something to tell you,” It’s barely a whisper that comes from him, and you can hear his pulse speed up from where you are lying. Those soft ba-dumps that could lull you to sleep are now racing in your ear.
“Hmm?” You hum absentmindedly as you feel his hand clench a little tighter around your own. You are trying to stay calm, but picking up on his distress is causing your own anxiety to spike.
“I-I” he clears his throat, searching for the right words to say. Remarks that he has tried hard to push down from the start of all of this. Things he has never wanted to admit because it makes this all real instead of a dream he can hold onto once he’s gone. “I love you.” He lets out a shudder, and you can feel the slight shake in his body. It’s out, the words that have been threatening to overspill for a long time. And Reiner feels like he will be sick; what if you don’t love him? What if he’s made it up in his head? He can’t stop the racing thoughts and the fear of rejection. But he can’t leave without letting you know, without you knowing how you’ve made heaven on this hell that he was in.
“I love you too, Reiner. So much, I wish you didn’t have to go out scouting, but I will wait for your return, every time.” You gently whisper back to him with a smile giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Your anxiety dissipates, thinking this is all he has to say.
But Reiner can’t smile back because he’s not coming back. This is it; he won’t ever be able to hold you again like this. This is goodbye. Reiner will be going home and leaving you behind. He feels that ache still ripping him up from the inside out. That wound in his heart cracks even further because he can’t just leave you like this. You need to know. Even though he can hear Berthold’s voice screaming at him not to say anything and can feel Annie’s punch to his face, he knows this could ruin everything, but you deserve to know. You deserve better than him. You deserve to find love and not wait for him when he knows he will never return to you. And so he spills it all.
He lets it slip, all for you. This mask he’s been holding, this fake persona he has had to put up, he lets it fall. All because he loves you. He tells you that he’s the Armored Titan, and he’s not coming back. He is trying to find the words to say goodbye, but they aren’t coming. With shuddering breaths and tears cascading down his cheeks, he waits for you to scream, to throw him out, to call someone and turn him in.
But you don’t do any of those things. Instead, you place your hand on Reiner’s cheek, just like you have done so many times before, and put your nose to his, and whisper, “I love you, Reiner, and I will wait for you forever. Even if that means you aren’t coming back.” He can see the tears forming in your eyes and threatening to spill over. He’s not sure if that gaping ache in his chest feels better or longs for you more, but he is in awe. You are so sweet, so beautiful, to give someone like him a chance and to love him so completely. You don’t throw him out, you don’t kick him to the curb. You love him and accept him just like this. He would trade the world for you, all the people at home, all the people here. He would trade them all just to stay here forever. To love you forever.
He can’t stop himself as he pulls you into a gentle kiss. Lips quickly coming together like long-lost lovers. You move your hand from Reiner’s cheek to the back of his head and curl your fingers into his short hair. This deepens the kiss, and you open your mouth and allow his tongue in. Your tongues meet in a searing dance. After a bit, you both pull away, panting, breathless. As he gazes into your eyes, it’s like the two of you come to the same conclusion. If this is the last goodbye, then make it the best one.
Reiner moves quickly to sit up in bed, pulls off his shirt, and his pants follow quickly. You waste no time doing the same. He can’t stay away from you for long, pulling you back quickly to press up against him as soon as every bit of your smooth skin is exposed to him. You marvel at his sculpted physique, from his broad shoulders to his defined stomach and finally resting on his rigid member. You love all of Reiner, but you have to admit he is well-endowed, which adds to your love of him. Reiner’s dick is average in length but sports a large girth. It fits well with his muscular body. The first time the two of you had sex, you had been sore for a few days after even with ample preparation.
The gentle pressure of Reiner’s hand cupping your chin to face him brings you back to this moment. He pulls you in for another kiss, longing and passionate. Your tongues instantly intertwine with each other. After a few moments you pull away first and walk back towards the bed, holding Reiner’s large hand in your own and gently pulling him with you. Your eyes beckon him as if he is a sailor, and you are his siren. Reiner follows like you’re his religion; there is nothing at this moment besides you to him. He watches the sway of your hips as you approach the bed, mesmerized in your movements.
With a turn, you sink onto the bed and pull Reiner on top of you. He’s careful not to put his entire weight on you, as he places himself on either side of your thighs. He has to touch you now. The desperation to be near you is pulling at his heart, to feel every inch of your perfect body. He begins kissing down your body. Slowly sucking at your neck and loving every little whimper and moan you let out. He moves to your breast next, taking one pert nipple in his mouth and sucking gently. After spending some time giving both breasts attention, he continues to kiss and nip his way down to your folds.
Prep is always something Reiner loves to do for you. He has always wanted sex between the two of you to be pleasurable, not painful. You have already grown wet from Reiner’s earlier attention to your body. He wastes no time bringing himself to you and licking up the dripping essence coming from your slit. Reiner then moves to your clit quickly and begins to gently suck and lick at it as he slips a large finger into you. You moan out his name as Reiner skillfully continues his ministrations while curling his finger into that spongy spot that causes you to gasp. He knows how to play your body like a skilled musician. Knows exactly what to do to push you over the edge. It isn’t much longer until your orgasm surges through you with a whine of Reiner’s name from your lips. You sound like an angel when you let out his name, and the sound goes directly to his aching cock. Reiner pulls away and removes his finger to allow you to catch your breath.
With heavy breaths, you motion for Reiner to come back to you; he follows instantly; never able to ignore the way you beckon for him. “Reiner, please, I need you,” you breathe out while laying a hand on his chiseled cheek, the scruff from his beard scratching gently against your hand. Reiner swallows and takes in your beautiful face, those eyes that he loves to see sparkle, your nose that he loves to watch crinkle when you laugh, your lips that Reiner would kiss every moment he could. But then he feels you buck up a little against his length, and he has to be in you, at that moment. He has to be as close as he possibly can to you.
He wastes no more time, lining his swollen head up with your entrance as you wrap your legs around his hips and hook your feet behind his toned back. Reiner takes it slow, starting gently pushing the tip into your warmth with a hiss. As he continues to move in, you both let out moans as you accommodate his length. Even with prep, there is always a stretch, but you enjoy being filled up with him. Reiner starts at a slow pace watching your face for any discomfort as he begins to rut into you. It becomes almost like a sixth sense now, like he can pick up immediately when you’re ready, and he begins to quicken his pace. The bliss is apparent on your face as he drags his cock through your already sensitive walls.
Being this close with you, knowing you this deeply, feeling you this deeply, Reiner loves every moment. He wants to keep these times in his mind forever. When he’s returned home he wants these memories to never fade. From that first meeting to now. Reiner has never felt so connected or such deep love as he does in these moments. He loves watching you fall apart beneath him as he continues to thrust into you. Reiner moves his hand between the two of you to rub tight circles on your clit. Reiner wants you to feel good, but he knows the moment you cum around his cock he won’t be able to hold out. Your walls begin to become impossibly tight around him and while he wants this moment to last forever, he can’t deny the feeling of your pussy milking his cock one more time. Before, he can’t ever feel it again.
Your second orgasm hits harder than the first, and Reiner sucks in a sharp breath as you moan out his name again and he feels your legs clenched tightly around his back. His thrusts become erratic, losing their rhythm, and you can feel him begin to tremble a bit as he reaches his own release. His hot cum filling your insides as the two of you work to catch your breath as you both come down from a blissful high.
As the high comes down, clarity starts to break through. This is the last time. This will never happen again. So Reiner doesn’t pull out immediately to go get something to clean you off like he normally would. He instead holds your face in his hands this time, instead of you doing it for him, and kisses your lips slowly. And even though you have shared so many kisses from the first stolen ones, where no one could find you to the passionate ones before lovemaking. This one is so much deeper because it’s the last one. The one before you never see him again. Before he has to forget about you and continue his mission.
And so he lets it slip one last time with a whisper of your name and a “I love you.”
Taglist: Not sure if my normal taglist people want to be on here so I left y’all off!
#reiner braun x reader#reiner x reader#reiner braun smut#aot fanfic#snk fanfic#reiner angst#Let it slip#my fic
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Nobody Listens to Kix
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Case 00864: Dogma
Warning: This chapter deals with the aftermath of the Umbara arc and touches on shock, PTSD, and related themes. Please skip this chapter if those things make you uncomfortable. (No grossness like the last chapter, though.)
For the first time in his life, Kix stood in the middle of the medbay and felt utterly lost. They had been picked up by the Resolute, pulled from Umbara's surface aboard General Skywalker's favorite ship, the Twilight. The medbay was filled with men from the 212th and the 501st alike, men mixed together more completely than they ever had been. They were united in one thing: they were clones.
Nothing else mattered right now, maybe nothing else would ever matter. They had been pitted together, forced to fight to the death against their own brothers, and for what? To help a corrupt Jedi prove that clones were defective? Nothing as petty as the colors painted on their armor could separate the troopers from their vode now.
The medbay was overflowing with troopers and Kix felt helpless. Most of the injuries were minor, easily treated, but the emotional trauma…
Everywhere he looked, Kix found brothers frowning, crying, raging at the injustice of it all, or looking just as lost as he felt. Every bed in the medbay was taken up and troopers still filed in. They leaned against the walls, sat eight to a bed, or just stood in the middle of the floor. Normally, the accepted procedure was to create temporary medbays in the Resolute's hangers, but Kix refused to do that. The bodies of his fallen brothers filled every hanger, and he would sooner be court-martialed than force injured or emotionally-vulnerable men to stare at the bodies of men who had died in transit.
And it was only those who had died on their way to the Resolute who were being recovered. The men who had fallen on Umbara's surface would be left there, left to become part of the planet's dark soil. The Republic didn't worry about burying the clones. The new teams who arrived to hold the planet would have orders to collect the numbers of fallen troopers. A full casualty report couldn't be made until then.
An envoy of Jedi healers was on the way to meet the Resolute, their needs deemed too severe to wait until they had docked at Coruscant. It was a surprise, but one that Kix wouldn't turn away. It seemed that, despite being seen as expendable by the Republic, there were some Jedi who felt the injustice of what the clones had undergone.
The generals were out and about, as well. General Skywalker had gone to console Captain Rex, who - according to clone gossip - had nearly destroyed his office after returning to the ship. General Kenobi and Commander Tano were circling the medbay comforting troopers. They did their best not to look hurt by the men who flinched away from them. They understood that such recent betrayal by a Jedi meant that they would not easily trust another.
Kix noted that every Jedi he had seen since they left Umbara was not wearing a lightsaber. Even Commander Tano's iconic dual hilts were missing from her crossed belts.
General Kenobi veered closer to Kix as he moved through the crowd and stopped to speak with him. "I offer my most sincere apologies, Kix. Please, if there is anything I can do to help-"
Kix had started shaking his head before the General had fully formed the question. His brothers wouldn't accept help from a Jedi just now, and it would just agitate them further. Between himself and the three medical droids, Kix knew he could keep the men in the medbay alive until the Jedi relief healers arrived. Just then, though, he had bigger concerns. "Are you all right, General?"
Kenobi looked surprised when Kix gestured at his face and raised a hand to touch the wet trails down his cheeks. "Oh. I hadn't… I just- There is a great deal of pain in this room," he finally explained without apology. "I despise seeing the men like this. I would do anything to remove the pain from them."
"You and I both, General," Kix agreed. He tried to move away in an effort to treat more of the men, but General Kenobi caught at his arm. Before he could fight the reaction, Kix gave a noticeable flinch.
With an apologetic grimace, Kenobi dropped his hand and said, "There's one man I worry about more than these. Dogma is in bad shape. I don't feel anything from him at all in the Force. It isn't a good sign. I know you're busy, but..."
"I'll check on him, sir," Kix assured him, moving away with a medic's clipped steps. At the moment, it still felt more fantasy than reality, but the need for a plan had helped him build concentration. The medbay was too full to be effective, and he needed to start moving troopers away from the area.
Kix easily found Fives and Jesse, sitting in silence in the back of the room. Having obviously decided that the beds were too crowded - or needed by other men - they had opted to sit on the floor with their backs firmly braced against the wall. "I need you both to direct some of the men out of here."
Fives shook his head. "You can't expect them to leave. They're scared."
"I know, but I can't save anyone if I can't move in here," Kix argued. "I know we've gone through a horrible tragedy, but I need them to find somewhere else. Take them to one of the barracks. They need space and quiet and sleep, if they can manage it. I'll even get the ship's mess to send food and drinks, but they need to be away from here."
Jesse's lips were pale. "I don't know if we can move them, Kix. I don't think I can do it."
Kix's temper sparked, but he kept his voice calm and supportive as he crouched down in front of the troopers. "You are both leaders in the 501st. Fives, you're an ARC trooper. Jesse, your actions back there have you in line for a promotion, I can guarantee it. The men look up to you. You've taken care of them this whole time and you'll keep taking care of them by making sure they get the food and rest that they need. Give me a second to get Captain Trapper from the 212th and you can start moving men to the barracks. Move them in small groups and make sure one of you stays at the barracks with them so they feel safe."
A few moments later, Kix led Trapper back to the others, having explained the plan to him as well. "Start with the men who seem most at ease. The nervous ones will follow once they see the others leaving. If any of the men start to show signs of illness or trauma, bring them back here and I'll take care of them."
Fives gave a decisive nod. "Right. Let's start with the men we know will come along. Jesse, get Tup, Gurr, and Strike. They're good at explaining things to people. I'll get Appo, Fledge, and Quasi. They can start convincing people to come with us."
Obviously catching on to Fives's plan, Jesse added, "We'll try to get as many men with us as we can on the first trip. That might get some of the nervous ones to follow along eventually."
"I'll get a few steady troopers from the 212th to help out," Captain Trapper agreed. "Kix, we'll take them to D-Barracks. In case anyone needs one of the men, that's where you'll find us."
Kix nodded his appreciation and the men started working. It was a surprisingly quick process. After the initial troopers had been informed of the plan and circulated the room for a few minutes, the first group left, leaving the medbay noticeably more quiet than it had been. It took a total of four trips to convince all the stragglers, but Kix was eventually left with only a few of the most drastically injured men, General Kenobi, and Commander Tano.
"Should we go to D-Barracks, too?" Ahsoka asked.
Kix gritted his teeth. "Sorry, Commander. Most of the men just aren't ready to be around the Jedi yet. They need a place they can see as being safe, a type of haven."
Open hurt flashed across the Togruta's face. "I just want to help."
"I know, sir, and the men know, too. Everything is just a little fresh right now," Kix assured her. "General, have you spoken to Commander Cody yet?"
General Kenobi sighed and tugged mournfully at his beard. "I tried, but I could sense that he didn't want me there. I cannot be upset that he blames me for the 212th's part in this tragedy. I blame myself, too."
"Sir, I have never known a commander to look up to their general more than Cody does to you. He needs some time, but he knows the only one to blame for this mess is Krell." He thought for a moment. "Can you find someone to relieve Admiral Yularen?"
"On the bridge?" Kenobi asked, surprised. "I likely could. May I ask why?"
"He isn't a clone, but he isn't a Jedi. He's a member of the GAR who many of the men look up to. His presence may help them heal. If he's willing, of course."
"Of course," General Kenobi agreed, leaving the medbay at a fast pace.
"Is there anything I can do?" Commander Tano asked.
"Can you order some of the food droids from the mess to deliver supplies to the men?" Kix asked. "They'll need food and water, but hot drinks like caf and tea will help with the shock. Admiral Yularen and the Jedi could help with the delivery side of things. It's a good reason to see and be seen by the men without making them feel invaded by the Jedi."
"I'll do that," Ahsoka told him, spinning decisively on her heel. "Thanks, Kix!"
Before she left the medbay, she paused by the doors to look back at him with her expressive face free of the typical Jedi mask. "I'm glad you're okay, Kix. I really am."
"Me too, Commander," he murmured, but she was long gone.
With a nearly empty medbay, Kix fixed his attention on Dogma. The trooper was huddled in the last bed, his wrists fastened together in front of him in a pair of well-used binders. He stared blankly ahead, giving no reaction even when Kix approached him. His normally intelligent face was slack and his right shoulder gave an occasional twitch.
"Dogma," he said softly. There was no response, and Kix repeated the trooper's name without hope of him answering.
He took a bioscan of Dogma's current state, unsurprised to find that his blood pressure and pulse were high. "Dogma, it's Kix. Can you hear me?"
After a long moment, Dogma repeated tonelessly, "...hear me?"
"Come on, vod," Kix cajoled. "I need you to come back here. Come back, Dogma. You're here, you're safe."
"...safe," Dogma echoed. His brows crinkled slightly, the minor shift seeming tremendously important with his lack of other response. "Not safe. Never safe."
"You are safe," Kix insisted. "You're safe, Dogma. You've made us all safe. No more Krell. You can come back now."
"Krell…" Dogma's eyes lit with recognition of the name and his entire face crumpled a moment later under the weight of the memories. "I killed him. I killed a Jedi."
"A traitor," Kix said firmly. "He wasn't a Jedi. No Jedi would have done what he did."
"He was a commanding officer," Dogma replied, sounding almost like his regulation-quoting self if not for the thickness in his voice. "I killed a commanding officer. The regs say I'll be court-martialed and found guilty. They'll either execute me or lock me away for the rest of my life. I'm not sure which is worse."
Kix rested a hand on Dogma's shoulder, unable to keep it from tightening as he felt the trembling in his brother's body. "You did what you had to do. Not only for us, but for all of the Republic. Krell was a traitor and he deserved to die. Should have died slower, if you ask me. You were too merciful."
Dogma gave a slight chuckle at that, though there was no joy in his eyes. "That's an interesting take on the situation. I don't think the GAR will follow your logic."
"I'll talk to whoever needs to hear me - anyone who will listen," Kix told him fiercely. "You took out a threat. That's what we're trained to do. You're a hero. You should be given a medal, not face a court-martial."
"Even the other men are avoiding me," Dogma said with a shake of his head.
Kix laughed. "Because you killed that ori'dush shabuir? Most of the men want to shake your hand."
Dogma laughed, but the sound quickly turned to stifled sobs and he began to tremble uncontrollably. When Kix was unable to get another response from Dogma and the trooper's blood pressure began soaring to dangerous levels, he administered a mild sedative and waited by the bedside until Dogma's scans showed normal levels once more.
After Dogma fell into a drug-assisted sleep, Kix moved quickly to his desk, opened a link to the holonet, and proceeded to abuse his medical access privileges.
"Kix?" Senator Amidala asked, her confused frown evident even through the unstable connection of the hololink. "Anakin told me what happened on Umbara. I am so sorry-"
"Sorry, ma'am, I don't have much time," Kix interrupted. Thankfully, the senator didn't seem offended. "I have the trooper here who finally put an end to General Krell. He's facing a court-martial and they'll most likely rule against him. I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable position, but is there anything you can do?"
Senator Amidala fell silent, and Kix appreciated that she was taking the time to fully consider his question. "The Senate and the Grand Army of the Republic don't operate jointly, but I think I can find a way to bring this to the Senate's attention since there are clone rights bills on the floor. I will need a few details and I'll warn you that it'll become a publicity circus. Is your trooper all right with that?"
"It's better than death, ma'am," Kix said firmly.
"That is true," she agreed softly. "Send me a file with as much information as you can and I'll put together something. The Senate won't meet tomorrow, but that should give me enough time to get something ready. When will you land on Coruscant?"
"A little less than a standard week from now."
"That should be plenty of time, then."
Senator Amidala's confidence was enough to ease the burden on Kix's shoulders. "Thank you, Senator. I can't tell you what this will mean to Dogma - to all of the men, really."
"It's the right thing to do, Kix," she said, voice filled with conviction. "You and your brothers deserve consideration as thinking beings as well as for the work you do in service of the Republic. We'll give Dogma the best possible chance that we can."
"I couldn't ask for anything more," Kix told her fervently.
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A/N - Thank you for reading! Please reblog!
#Nobody Listens to Kix#star wars#star wars the clone wars#star wars fanfiction#clone trooper kix#clone trooper dogma#general obi-wan kenobi#obi wan kenobi#commander ahsoka tano#ahsoka tano#arc trooper fives#clone trooper jesse#captain trapper#padme amidala#senator padme amidala#umbara#umbara aftermath#clone troopers deserve better#more to come#fuck pong krell
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Just A Dream Pt. 2
Warnings: Soft Smut? Angst, hurt feelings, unrequited/requited love, swearing...I think that’s it...
Word Count: 4223
Summary: The Reader is captured by a Djinn, and shown a reality that she’d always dreamed of. Only to have it ripped away from her when she was saved by Dean. It’s not as easy to recover from as one may think.
Beta’d by the lovely @deanwanddamons Thanks again, love!
A/N: Part One was submitted for @winchester-fantasies 1000 follower challenge, and you guys immediately started to ask for Pt 2! So here it is!! Sorry It took so long guys!! Hope you all enjoy this one! Feedback is gold! So feel free to let me know what you think!!
Want More? Check out my Masterlist!!
***MASTERLIST***
Haven’t read Pt. 1 yet? Read it HERE!!
Slowly you make your way down the iron staircase leading into the bunker, a tight grip on Dean’s arm as he supported most of your body weight.
You were still very weak from the Djinn almost completely draining you before Dean was able to come in. He found you strung up in the abandoned warehouse like a damn piece of meat hanging in a meat locker, and you were pretty sure at least one of your ribs were either fractured, or bruised, but you refused to go to the hospital to have it checked out.
Instead, you insisted that Dean make the little over 8 hour drive from Dallas to Lebanon instead of getting a room or getting you checked out.
You were able to doze on and off the entire ride home, aside from Dean pulling over at some greasy joint, and making you eat a hamburger and drink something.
It was easier to sleep than it was to face the heartache you felt every time you looked at Dean…
The dream, or alternate reality, or whatever you wanted to call it that the Djinn had let you live in while it held you captive, and slowly drained your body of its blood had been so real.
When you closed your eyes you could still feel Dean’s hands on your stomach, as he pushed your shirt up your body, still felt his lips moving over your own, his tongue gliding over yours…
You could also still feel the crushing reality of it all being no more than a dream when he had shaken you awake on that warehouse floor in the middle of Dallas, and you couldn't stand to stay there another minute.
You couldn’t stand an awkward doctor’s visit where Dean pretended to be your husband or something.
You couldn’t stand another night sharing a bed with him in the motel room, not after that. It hurt too damn much..
Dean helped you to the map table and Sam called for Cas as Dean knelt on the floor next to you.
“What do you need, sweetheart, just say the word and I’ll go get it. Sam’s calling for Cas now, and if he can get ahold of him he can fix you right up.”
Dean was fidgeting with the flannel he’d draped over you when he carried you out of the warehouse, insisting he take your wet clothes off of you, and put you in a pair of jogging pants, and a flannel that he had in the back of his car.
“I’m fine Dean. I just need to rest a minute, then I’m gonna need a shower, but I’m pretty sure I can take care of that myself.”
Dean looked at you as if you had grown a third head, cocking his head to the side with a strange look on his face..
“Y/N you can barely walk, how are you gonna manage a shower alone? Let me fill up that bathtub that Sammy and I installed, and I’ll help you get in and out of it. I promise to be a gentleman I won’t look at you like that I promise.”
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, which hurt like fuck, but it distracted you from crying like you wanted to so desperately.
Of course, he wouldn’t want to “look at you like that.” Hell, he practically dressed you with his eyes closed in the back of the Impala outside of the warehouse in Dallas. Letting you know right then and there that Dean was not interested in you in any way, shape, or form.
Hell, he didn’t even try to sneak a peek!!
Hearing the words come out of his mouth so easily just now that he wouldn’t even look at you made your already raw emotions hurt even worse than what they normally would have, and made things out to be hurtful when really Dean was just trying to make you feel comfortable and help you. Somewhere deep down you knew that, but it still didn’t stop the ache in your chest when he promised to not even look at you like that.
You opened your mouth to argue with him and insisted that you could get yourself in and out of a bath without assistance when you heard the distinct rustling of feathers behind you, and a light breeze blowing your hair.
“Cas! Where the fuck where you!!” Dean growled, getting to his feet in front of you, but keeping a protective hand on your shoulder as if he was afraid if he let you go, you’d fall out of the chair and face plant the floor.
“Turkey, sorry it takes a while to get here from that far,” Cas said, virtually ignoring the caveman-like greeting that Dean had given him as if he was used to it.
“Hey Cas,” you greeted him a little nicer than Dean just had as he moved to stand in front of you, forcing Dean to take a step back. This earned Cas one of Dean’s best bitchfaces..
“Y/N, what happened?” Cas asked, looking over you, no doubt already taking account of injuries that you couldn’t even see.
“Djinn…”
Cas nodded, placing two fingers to your forehead.
You closed your eyes as a warmth spread through your entire body, concentrating on your ribs and running through your veins like warm water.
In an instant, Cas pulled his fingers away from your forehead, stepping back a little and nodding at you.
“That should help. Your ribs are healed, and I’ve helped to restore some of your bloodloss, but you might still be a little weak for the remainder of the day, and probably the rest of the night. I suggest you get some rest and take it easy for a few days. If you don’t feel any better after that just give me a call..”
“Thanks, Cas,” you said, as feathers ruffled again, and Cas disappeared from sight, leaving Dean and Sam staring at each other.
“What the hell was he doing in Turkey?” Sam asked Dean, who pouted his lip out and shrugged his shoulders before turning his attention back to you.
“How are you feeling sweetheart?” Dean asked, his deep, piercing eyes racking over your body as if he could see any mistake or misplaced thing that Cas might have missed.
“Better, tired. I think I’m gonna go take a bath, and head to bed,” you tell him, trying to stand up from the chair and almost losing your footing as the room spun around you, momentarily making you queasy.
“Easy baby girl! Cas said you’d be a little weak, just sit here and take it easy, and I’ll go run you that bath okay?”
You didn’t understand why he was fussing over you so much, and the thought crossed your mind that he might be doing it because of guilt.
Which only angered you.
“Dean I’ve got it! I don’t need any help! Why don’t you just go down that bar you always go to after hunts and find yourself something pretty to sink yourself into.” you snapped, successfully standing up this time, and slowly making your way down the hall to the bathroom, irrational anger coursing through your veins, making you miss the fact Dean was still in a kneeling position on the floor where you were sitting, the look of someone that had just watched his puppy be boiled alive, and Sam standing there with his mouth gaping open.
It wasn’t until after you took your bath, and crawled into bed that you started to calm down.
That’s when the regret set in big time.
You had never snapped at Dean. In all the years you had been living here in the bunker with them, you had never snapped at him, much less disrespected him the way that you just had by telling him to go find “something pretty to sink himself into.”
You lay there in the cool dark room, letting the tears fall down your face until you finally fell into an uneasy sleep.
You wanted to go to Dean and apologize, but you were sure he was probably pissed as hell, and you knew from experience that a pissed Dean was a Dean that you allowed having his space. Apologize would wait until the morning when everyone had cooled off. That didn’t help the ball of guilt that had formed in your stomach at not only the memory of what you had thought was so fucking real, but now also the memory of the way you had just treated the man you loved more than your own life.
------------------------------------------
The next morning you got up, and made your way, using the wall for support, towards the kitchen to make your morning coffee.
Sleep had not been good to you.
For most of the night, you had nightmares of you kissing Dean, and then him laughing at you as he turned into a Djinn. Mocking you, telling you that you were nothing more than a buddy and that Dean would never fall in love with a girl as ugly as you were.
Once you staggered your way around the kitchen and had successfully made the coffee, you made your way over to the table which was the closest thing to you and sat down gingerly.
Cas was right about one thing, the soreness and weakness were real, which probably wouldn’t have been as bad if you would have rested, instead of tossing and turning all night long. Yet here we are. So you would just deal with it until it went away.
If only the pain and regret you felt would go away that easy.
You were stirring your coffee with a spoon absentmindedly when you heard the distinct sound of Dean’s feet coming down the hallway.
He carried himself much heavier than Sam, and after all this time you had just about got to where you could pinpoint which Winchester was where when you couldn’t even see them. This was very useful on hunts and things that were done most of the time in the dark.
You looked up just as Dean rounded the corner into the kitchen. You saw his green eyes that honestly looked as red as you felt, glance at you, then to his destination, which was the coffee pot, without even the usual “morning” he’d grumble when he walked by you in the morning.
Your heart sank to your feet. Dean had never given you the silent treatment. Not even when he was mad at you for something.
“Morning Dean.” You tried as he shuffled back past you towards the hallway, not making eye contact with you, just giving you a grunt as he disappeared towards his room.
That’s how the day continued, well when you saw Dean anyway. He had spent most of his time hiding out in the garage, cleaning and tuning up Baby, even though he’d just done it before your last hunt.
That’s what Dean did when he didn't want to talk, or deal with whatever was bothering him, which at this point you were sure was you.
When he did run into you he’d resorted to grunting instead of speaking. Like, when you ask him if he wanted anything for lunch, or when you asked him if he wanted to watch a movie with you, even when you asked him if he wanted to play poker with you, which was something he used to beg you to do with him to pass the time.
You had fucked up badly, and you knew it.
By the time midnight had fallen over the bunker, and Dean had retreated behind the locked door of his bedroom and you found yourself alone in the Dean cave. Staring at an off television, with a tumbler of whiskey in your hand.
You and Dean used to be friends. He used to talk to you about things that he didn’t talk to everyone about, and you knew that. Even though you knew he only saw you as a buddy, that didn’t mean you wanted to forfeit that, just because you couldn’t have him the way you wanted to have him, and if you could go back in time with some spell, to take back those mean words you had said to him when he was only trying to help you, you’d do it in a heartbeat.
Sam came in, flopping down on the small chair next to the couch you were sitting on, and you couldn’t even look up at him, even though you heard him clear his throat like he always did when he wanted to get your attention.
“You okay?” Sam asked when you didn’t look up or acknowledge him at all.
You shook your head and looked anywhere but at Sam as you tried to stop the tears from falling that were burning in your eyes. You felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest and stomped on until there was nothing left but a bloody puddle. You felt like there would be no recovering from this. It was worse than the Djinn dream because there was no waking up from this. You lost the only thing between you and Dean could hold onto, and you knew it was your fault.
“Wanna talk about it?” Sam said, shifting in the chair, leaning onto his knees as he grabbed the bottle off of the coffee table, and moved it away from you, clearly thinking you had enough to drink tonight. Maybe he was right?
“Not really Sam,” you said, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.
“Well, drinking to forget never solved the problem.”
You narrowed your eyes, and if looks could kill you would probably have killed him.
“That’s rich, coming from a Winchester.”
“Hey, I don’t drink anywhere near as much as Dean does.. And there lies the elephant in the room. Dean that is. “
You nearly choke on your drink as you look over at Sam.
“Don’t give me that look, you really hurt him Y/n. He was just worried and trying to help you, and you kicked him pretty hard last night. The man sat alone in the map room and cried himself into almost being sick, then went to his room, and only God knows what he did there.”
You sat there staring wide-eyed at Sam, who was looking more and more pissed by the minute. You thought he was just angry at you. Why did Sam seem to be making it out like you hurt him?
“You know that man didn’t stop until he found you? He cares about you more than I’ve ever seen him care about anyone. He worried himself sick, convinced he would be too late, and when he found you, and got you home, wanting to take care of you, you virtually tell him to fuck off!!”
“I thought he was just doing it out of pity!” you yell back at him, and as soon as the words leave your lips you realize just how stupid they sounded. Dean was a man that thrived off of self loathing and guilt.
He did very little out of pity though, that just wasn’t his style, and you could see now, just how mean your comment was.
“Sam.Dean doesn’t care about me. Not like I care about him, and when the Djinn… Look I got all caught up with my emotions, and I snapped at him. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, Sam you know how I feel about Dean! He’s my best friend! I didn’t want to hurt him, I was just… Really emotional, and when I thought he was taking care of me because he felt sorry for me, I snapped at him…”
“What did the Djinn show you?” Sam asked, his eyes narrowing as if he was putting a piece in a puzzle together that had been bothering him for quite some time. You were pretty sure you had said enough for him to work it out on his own, but he wanted you to admit it.
“Dean and I….We...We were going to go be...you know together...He felt the same way I did, and I… Everything felt so real… Then all a sudden it wasn’t…”
Sam stood up from the chair and grabbed the whiskey bottle off to the table in front of him.
“You need to talk to Dean. He’s hurting Y/N. He thought he lost you.. He’s been in love with you from the moment he saw you, and when he found you, he’d finally worked up the nerve to let it show a little because you know how Dean is with words, and you told him to go find someone else to fuck like he disgusted you or something.
You looked down at your hands, having a hard time believing that it was possible that Dean could have feelings for you too. It just couldn’t be.
Still, the thought that you might have hurt Dean caused another wave of guilt to wash over you. So much so, that you threw the blanket off your lap, and started to pad your way down the hallway to Dean’s room.
Coming to a stop in front of his door, you could see a light on in the room from the crack under the door. Taking a deep breath, you reach your hand up and knock., not having any idea what to say. You just needed to see him, see that he was okay.
The door opened slowly, and Dean’s face peered out at you through the crack in the door. He didn’t even bother opening it all the way, just enough to see who it was. That wasn’t like Dean. Normally, he just yelled at you to come in when you knocked on his door.
“What?” he said to the floor, eyes looking anywhere but yours, and if you could have kicked yourself you would have done it. The man you loved more than your own life, the man you’d gladly die for, that you have spent nights dreaming about was hurting, and it was you who caused it because you were blind to see that he was trying to show you that he cared.
“Dean, can I come in? I need to talk to you.”
His eyes moved to yours momentarily, before he nodded and opened the door wide enough for you to come inside, moving to sit at the little table in the corner where he much like yourself, had a tumbler of whiskey he’d been drinking when you’d knock on his door.
You made your way over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. You could feel how cold it was between the two of you, and you hated it.
“Dean...I’m sorry I snapped at you last night..I… I was upset, and I got all caught up in my emotions, and I took it out on you when you were just trying to help me… I shouldn’t have said that stuff to you… I don’t like this between us, and I’m sorry.“
Dean’s head leaned back against the wall. Not looking at you, but continuing to stare into his glass.
“You have no idea how relieved I was that you were still alive when I found you because I thought for sure I’d be too late. I thought...I thought that I had lost the chance to tell you how I feel about you. Then when I found you alive, and we made it home, I wanted to take care of you like I should have from the moment I met you, and you, you tell me to go fuck someone else. That you don’t need me. So you made your feelings very clear, and I don’t know why you're even bothering coming in here when you find me so repulsive. You should be happy I backed away.”
You sat there trying not to let your jaw hit the floor. Dean was always someone you thought was out of your reach, but here he was, pretty much telling you he had feelings for you, and you kicked him when he was most vulnerable.
You vaguely wondered if you were still dreaming, and the Djinn had found you again.
“Dean, I can’t even put into words how sorry I am I didn’t mean to hurt you, I thought you were only trying to smother me because you were feeling guilty about me getting hurt, and it was all out of pity. The Djinn? It made me see things that fucked with my emotions. Everything was so raw. I shouldn’t have snapped at you and disrespected you that way. I shouldn’t have got caught up in my feelings, and disrespected you. I don’t want you to back away. “
Dean got up and came to sit down next to you. Looking away from you for a moment, eyes letting you know that his thoughts were far away from you, far away from this room.
When he finally started to speak his voice was much quieter than what you were used to.
“I got caught by a Djinn once. It showed me a perfect life. I had a wife who was a nurse. Mom was alive, I wasn’t a hunter. Sammy had Jessica. Just a pretty much apple pie life, and it took me weeks to shake the loss I felt after I got away from that Damn thing. So I get it, but sweetheart you can’t push me away, just because you're upset. I know you were probably with a better man than me, maybe a dog and a couple of kids or some shit, and I can’t hold a candle to whatever that thing showed you, but I can’t just make the way I feel about you go away, like that thing did when it was killed, and took whatever apple pie life away from you.”
You sat there dumbfounded for a moment.
He didn’t see it.
He’d never seen it.
It was him you were in love with.
You always loved him.
He thought so damn little of himself. That he had never even seen how you felt about him, and when you rejected him it hurt him.
“Dean, the Djinn didn’t show me some apple pie life. It showed me you, and it showed me us. Something I didn’t think I could ever have because let’s face it, I’m not exactly in your league. Then right when I was finally able to kiss you like I had wanted to do for so long you woke me up, and it was all ripped away from me. That’s why when I thought you were doing what you were doing out of pity. I got so upset and snapped at you. But it was you. It’s always been you.”
Dean looked at you for a moment like you had said something in a foreign language, and he just couldn’t compute. Then it hit him. His features softened, and the hardness in his shoulders melted instantly.
“Do you still…. Do you still want to kiss me?” Dean asks, inching his way closer to you.
“Yes... More than anything.”
That was all the permission he needed. His lips made contact with yours a deep, hungry, needy kiss that made your world spin.
His tongue slipping into your mouth. Exploring, dominating, washing away all the hurt, and heartache.
His hands trail your body as you continue to kiss each other. Getting more and more heated as his lips moved in perfect harmony with your own.
Things continued to escalate. The need for each other. To feel each other after having wanted to for so long overpowering every insecurity, and every bad thought that you had about yourself as clothes made their way to the floor.
Lips trailed your body…Gracing over the most sensitive parts of you. Worshiping you as if you were a God…Bringing you to the edge of pure bliss over and over again before he finally let you fall apart.
His body one with yours.. Thrusting in and out of you slowly, deeply, fitting the two of you together as if you were some missing piece to a puzzle that had finally found its home.
The only sound that filled the room now instead of hurtful words were sighs, moans, and gasp of breath as Dean drove the two of you higher and higher. Hitting everything perfectly over and over again until it was too much for either of you to take, and he was falling over the edge with you.
Shooting ropes of come into your velvet heat. Giving you all of him as your wall clamped down around him.
This was real. No Djinn. No dream that was going to get ripped away from him. He was yours, and you were his, finally. After all the hurt, after all the loneliness, after all the fear. None of that mattered now. All that mattered was that you were together, and nothing was going to separate you as long as you had breath in your body.
This wasn’t just a dream. This was a reality. This was perfect. This was home. After all these years. You were finally home.
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#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester smut#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean x reader#dean x you#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#spn smut#x reader inserts#jensen ackles#jawritter#just a dream pt 2
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Omggg I was so scared that your request gonna be closed. But it open. oMg. Ok, I’m here tp fullfilled my fantasy💕 Canwe pleaseeeee have Rengoku Kyoujurou x Little Sister Figure!Reader (Part 3) 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 Omg I just love how s/o went so well with the Rengoku family. I know this wasn’t meant to be parted. But still, I couldn’t. No rush. Take your time.💕 I know you still got lots of requests. I love to read those too💕💕💕💕
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Me, on part 2: hahaha, this is cute, I’m kinda proud of this. I like to make it “hanging”, let’s just leave the rest to the reader. I dunno if this end works but-
Readers: *demanded for part 3*
Me: shit.
Rengoku Kyoujurou x Little Sister Figure (Part 3)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5
After the train incident, Kyoujurou retired and you continued your path as Pillar. Just say, you’re replacing him as Flame Pillar and started to take your own tsugako. He still taught his own students too.
Everything still the same, except Kyoujurou now wearing black eye patch
And one more.
You tend to avoid the “Be my wife” talks with Kyoujurou.
You still talked to him and be with him like daily basis, but every time he mentioned something about marriage, you always got an excuse to not talk about it.
“So, about the-”
“Ahh… I have something to do. Later, Aniki!!”
“Do you still consider about my-”
“Ops! I forgot that my tsugako waiting in the dojo now! Mustn’t be late!”
“Right, (y/n), which one do you prefer traditional or modern?”
“…what?”
“You know, the mar-”
“Waaah!!! I had to meet Oyakata-sama now. Bye!”
He’s actually mad towards his ‘little sister’
HE
REALLY
PISSED
OFF
But he did his best to not show you his true emotion. The dark aura always emitted after you 'ran’ away from him. Senjurou could feel it, his big brother was angry. He already knew that Kyoujurou has confessed to you.
“Ani-ue, are you okay? Nee-chan probably still embarrassed about it. You confessed to her out of blue… And with straightforward asking too.” He comforted Kyoujurou who sulked in kotatsu. “What about, don’t bring it up for awhile, she’s uncomfortable.”
“I know, but at least, don’t ignore the conversation like that.” He put his chin on the table. Senjurou really reminded him of their father when they pouted.
“I will try to talk to her.” said Senjurou gently. “Maybe she’ll understand.”
Kyoujurou looked at outside, it’s snowy. He only could see white on the yard, and some vague lanterns lit up.
It’s really cold huh. I wonder where did she go, did she put on layers, he’s wondering.
When you went back home, he greeted you on the living room, cheered up and being sunshine big bro again.
You smiled and greeted him back. He caught you and covered you with his big body, along with his haori, made you seated on his lap, back to chest.
“A-Aniki?!”
“Kotatsu is the best- Uwah, cold.” He touched your cheek with his, rubbing it. He put your palm on his hands, tried to make it warm. “You didn’t wear extra layer?”
“Already did that. But it’s useless. I’m okay though, I like winter!”
“Huh…” He strengthened his embrace towards your cold body. You blushed and grasped on his arms.
“B- By the way, Aniki. Have you change your eye patch?”
“Not yet.” You turned around.
“Then let me treat it.” You stood up and disappeared from the door. You came back, bringing new patch and some oint treatment.
Slowly, you took off his old eye patch. You applied warmed wet tissue, smeared oint treatment with cotton on his left eye, dried it up again and put new eye patch.
He stared at you with his right eyes. Perfect, adorable, alluring, dazzling, fit to be my wife and mother of my children.
“Um, please don’t stare too much. It’s really embarrassing…”
“Haha! Sorry!”
It’s a shame that he had to hold his urge to marry her now.
“Done.” You slipped out his bangs. “Tell me if it’s not comfortable.”
“All is fine! Let’s sit and enjoy the-”
“Great, I’ll help Senjurou on the dinner.” You left him while carrying the treatments and old patch.
He sulked in the kotatsu again.
Yeah, you just avoided the topic, not his entire well-being. You still treated his wounds and else.
“Nee-chan, how is your works?” Senjurou peeled carrots.
“Good!” You put miso paste on your cooking.
“…if something make you uneasy because of Ani-ue, I apologize. It’s the first time he’s being eager like this.”
“It’s okay.” You shook your head. “I’m just… Surprised.”
“Nee-chan, do you love my brother?”
You stopped for awhile.
Did I love him?
Even though, all I do is regarding his position as my brother?
“I- I’m sorry, Nee-chan! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”
“…still think about it.” You patted his hair. “I’m sorry, Senjurou. You had to deal with us like this.”
You couldn’t bring anyone more in your relationship. Like it or not, you had to think and resolve it as soon as you can
Kyoujurou never brought up about that proposal again, he still poured his affections towards you like always.
Until one night, when you were on your way headed to home, crow from headquarters was coming to you.
“Emergency! Emergency! Go to West Village! 2 Lower Moons spotted insight! Emergency! Emergency! 10 Kanoe were injured! 3 died!”
You gripped your sword. You sent a letter thorough your crow to Kyoujurou, told him that you will not be home tonight. Then ran to the said direction.
Kyoujurou received that letter, he clenched it.
“Lower Moon these days are getting stronger, it really troublesome.”
“Trust her more, Ani-ue. She’s Hashira too, just like you.”
You finally accomplished your mission, two Lower Moons were defeated. Kakushis were sent out to brought injured lower rank demon slayers.
You saw their corpses, they even didn’t have intact shape anymore.
“(y/n)-sama, we will help you to bury their bodies.”
“No need, I’ll do it alone. Just treat those who survived.”
“But, you have wounds too-”
“I’m fine. Now, go.”
“If you insisted…”
All of the small funeral works were done by you. You didn’t get disturbed by the cold feeling. You made sure that here is the best place for them to rest in peace.
“Thank you for your hard work. May we met again on yomi.” You clasped both of your hand and prayed in front of their tomb.
You walked away and headed home.
“Ah.” You didn’t realize there were injuries on your left stomach. It was small wounds at first, but looks like it’s widening. “I’m so careless. Maybe Aniki scolded me again.” You really thought you could hold it.
But suddenly, there was great blizzard coming on your way.
All you could see was white, it’s not even white, it became blurry. There were no shelters around. It became difficult for you to move forward, but you didn’t have any choice. You had to move or else, you die.
The wound on your left worsened, your fingertips became numb. Again, you forgot with the extra layer and now kinda regret not listening to Kyoujurou.
You used your sword as your crutch, helping you walk forward.
What is the worst case?
Ah, the grumbling sound behind you. You didn’t even had brief moment to react, snow slides collided with your body and dragged you down.
You’re panicking, tried to find oxygen with your lungs but it’s really difficult to even grasped on something. It made you upside down.
The slide finally stop, you just stayed on your place, with snow almost burying all of your body. Your face became numb and you couldn’t feel your outer body anymore.
You were facing towards the sky. It’s still blizzard.
You wanted to raise your hand or shouted for help, but you’re too weak and tired for doing so. The blood on your stomach became even worst, it started to permeate on the snow, and make it red.
'Am I dying here?’
Kyoujurou ever told you to stay calm in any state of death verge. So, you used his technique to breath calmly, trying to stop your own bleed
But it’s useless because the cut really deep right now. Instead of thinking your wound, you just let yourself to breath casually, simply to stay alive for a moment.
'Aniki… I’m sorry… If I didn’t make it…-No, you saved my life, I can’t let this chance slipped anymore. I had to stay alive.’
You knew that once you sleep inside this snow, you’ll die. But you had to do this to make your breathe stable.
'Because… I had to tell him my real feelings… I had to stay alive.“
You closed your eyes and fall into half asleep state, like frog on their hibernation. You still conscious, but you’re actually in verge of death and alive.
After some time, you heard a vague sound of your name being called. That must be Kakushi, you thought.
Looks like they found you, you could feel they digging up your body and took you out. They checked your breathe with their ears on your chest.
”….stil…brea…ang…on…“
You couldn’t hear what are they saying. They carried your body and you could feel warm blanket wrapped around your body.
'Warm.’ After that, you totally collapsed.
When you snapped your eyes open, you saw white ceiling. But you know this is not Butterfly Estate ward. You were asleep inside a white futon, not a bed.
Slowly, you looked at your right, there is tray with medicines and water-filled glass on top of it.
And you turned around to your left.
Wait, what?! Kyoujurou?! How did he come here?!
He sat with his leg crossed, his head bowed down, looks like he was asleep in that position.
You slowly pushed your blanket and sat down. You felt sting and sharp pain on your stomach. You covered your mouth, tried to hold your voice.
Fuh, you didn’t wake him up.
You moved towards him and scanned his face calmly. He still handsome and fierce as ever.
His cape dropped from his shoulder. You stood up and took the cape.
There’s blood stain on it.
'Is it mine? I didn’t see him injured. Then, the one who saved me wasn’t Kakushi?’
You’re putting back his cape on his shoulder, 'It’s cold. I wonder if the blizzard has stopped?’
”…yomoya, yomoya da.“
You jolted and jumped back to your futon, sitting on it.
"A-Aaa- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you up!!”
“I see you became energetic again!” He lifted his hand and put it on your shoulder. “If I didn’t receive your letter, you probably died now. That place is really dangerous on Winter.”
“Ahaha, yeah.” You chuckled in hesitant. “Thank you, Ani-”
“And also, how many times do I had to tell you to put on extra layers, you even refused Kakushi’s help, you already knew you wounded and yet, you still had the audacity?”
Uh-oh, this sinister aura. He probably smiled, but he really pissed right now.
“I’m sorry.” You looked down, playing with your finger. “I promised, I will not let my guard down anymore.”
“Then, it’s okay if you finally understand!” He stood up. “I will call the doctor, so, wait.”
When the doctor examined you, he told you that you probably died if in one minute, he didn’t come to save you.
“And you’re lucky, because your husband body felt like walking heater, so you stayed warm.” He laughed. “Good for you! Good for you!”
“…”
“…”
“Di- did I say something wrong?”
“Ah, no! It’s just… I’m not… His wife…”
“Not yet!” He grinned towards the doctor. “Even if she warmed by body heat, I’m still not succeeding to melt her heart.” You grabbed your blanket, and feeling your face burning. Kyoujurou, you prick!!!!
“Well, good luck on that! I shall take my leave now. Oh, (y/n), this is my house, so don’t hesitate to ask anything!”
“Sure, thank you.”
When he left, it’s just between you two now.
It became awkward.
“You should rest.” He started to cover you with blanket. “I’ll make sure no demon heading here.”
“Kyoujurou, wait!”
He surprised because you didn’t use Aniki. He paused his movements.
“About the- about your proposal…” You clutched onto your blanket. “I’ve thought about it.”
Ok, come on! Come on, me! You could do this! Don’t be so embarrassed!!
“Yes, I do.” You looked straight at his eyes, burning with passion. “Yes, I want to be your wife!!”
…
…
He suddenly tearing up.
“E- Eh? Whaaaaat??? Did I say something wrong?” You panicked and wipe his tears.
“No, that’s not it. I’m so happy!!” He cupped both your cheek and sticked his forehead with yours. “You’re so cute, I really want to attack you right now. But first, you should recover.”
He just looked straight at your eyes, intensely. You grabbed his hand which cupped your cheek.
Something really made both of you inside your own world. He moved himself towards you, you closed your eyes.
And then, lips meet lips. He felt your lips so smooth and soft. He didn’t bring you in rough kiss. Only gentle and deep kiss.
He broke his contact when the lung ran out of oxygens.
“That’s… My first kiss…”
“Me too!” He giggled. “I didn’t know it felt really good with you.” You blushed again.
“Uh…”
“Now, you should rest.” He covered you with your blanket. You pulled his haori, while averting your eyes.
“Can you- Can you sleep with me?” He blinked twice and his mind goes nyooooom
“O- Of course, hahaha!!” He tugged himself beside you. He turned and faced you. “I won’t do anything weird. So, rest.” He pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead
'Warm.’ You thought again and slowly drifting away.
The news of him proposing to you were spread like plague. Everyone congratulating you.
“I know you’ll end up with him!”
“Hah, sister-brother my ass.”
But there’s one obstacle both of you had to fight before wedding.
Yes, traditional engagement. Kyoujurou had to ask your parents, asking if they really let you marry with him.
But, you didn’t have parents anymore, right? That shouldn’t be a problem.
“What do you mean she didn’t have parents. I’m literally her father.” Shinjurou looked down at Kyoujurou.
Ah, yes. Shinjurou really didn’t let this slip huh.
“Then, what should I do?” Kyoujurou asked Shinjuro
“Ask me.”
Sounds simple. Kyoujurou was really confident. He bowed down deeply towards Shinjurou
“Father, I loved her ever since we met. I promised to take care and protect her. With my deepest heart, please let me marry her.”
“Rejected.”
“What?!”
#kimetsu no yaiba imagines#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#kimetsu anime#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba rengoku#rengoku kyoujuro x reader#rengoku kyoujurou#rengoku reader#rengoku x reader#kyojuro rengoku#kyojuro rengoku x reader#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku kyojurou#kyojuro x reader#rengoku kyojurou x reader#rengoku kyoujuro#kyoujurou rengoku#kyoujuro rengoku#rengoku kyoujurou x reader#kyoujurou rengoku x reader#kyoujuro x reader#kyoujurou x reader#kny rengoku#kny sanemi#kny imagine#kimetsu no yaiba scenarios#kimetsu no yaiba headcanons
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FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 12 (Mafia AU)
Summary: Blue and Rus finally get a chance to talk.
Tags: Spicyhoney, Cherryberry, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11
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Read on AO3
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Read it here!
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His confidence in his brother’s love didn’t exactly take a hit on the way downstairs to dinner, but it did give a wobbly sort of jiggle when Blue didn’t say a word to him. Not on the way down, but maybe that was because Edge was right there, Rus told himself. The silence lingered as they stopped off at small washroom to clean up, but that was even worse as a place to chat, adding in the echo of the water running from the fancy taps running into the basin to fill the room along with their Edge-shaped chaperone.
Blue didn’t say a thing aside from faint noises of acknowledgement as Edge made politely chitchat and led them back to the dining room, Rus trailing behind them.
Honestly, Rus hadn’t really thought a meal could be more awkward than breakfast that morning and he was rather unhappy about being proven wrong. Sure, Edge was unfailingly polite, even pulling Rus’s chair out for him like they were on a date in a fancy restaurant. And the food looked delicious when the Dogs brought it out in courses, a creamy tomato soup and salad before a delicate pasta dish, and a sweet orange and honey sorbet for dessert that should’ve had Rus licking the dish clean.
But it could have been a bowl of fried sawdust for all Rus tasted it. For the first time ever, he found himself missing his brother’s somewhat dubious meals. Maybe his recipe for spam fried rice wasn’t gonna land on any Michelin star restaurant menu, and it didn’t taste like the sweet frozen dreams of the sorbet, but the heaps of love that flavored it helped, a lot, more than Rus ever realized.
Guilt was a lot less tasty, Rus found, sitting penny-sharp on the back of his tongue and refusing to be swallowed away. His brother was mostly quiet, picking at his own plate and hardly taking a bite. Even odder, so was Red. Quiet, anyway, he cleared his plate without hesitation, but didn’t say much, and he kept giving Blue little sideways looks. If Rus didn’t know better, he’d almost say the mean old gargoyle was concerned, if there was room in the shriveled, leathery pouch that passed for his soul.
Edge said little, too, his eye lights flicking only briefly to their brothers, and that didn’t exact make Rus eager to drum up any conversation about the newest season of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ on Netflix. In the end, the silence was mostly broken only by the soft clatter of silverware against china, and the Dogs as they cleared it all away.
Rus idly stirred the bright stripe of honeyed syrup into his sorbet, forced himself to take another creamy mouthful. He wondered if the leftovers would find their way downstairs again, if that was the norm or if it were only for special occasions, like a pair of unexpected ‘guests’. Maybe Mona and her co-workers would get a chance to try a little of that pasta, standing around together laughing as they enjoyed some decent food before they went out on the stage. He hoped so, hoped that after a day of their sort of work, they had a treat at the end of the day. Meanwhile, all he had to show for his efforts today was a little healing and a lot of gardening. It was something, he supposed.
For all his past fantasies of interesting places out further in the world, out in some wonderous, mythical place where Humans didn’t look at him like they’d rather he was dust to brush off their shoes, Rus found he was missing the shop. If he’d thought his days were a little repetitive, now he recalled the simplicity of it wistfully; days of designing floral arrangements in complimentary colors, chatting with the customers who wandered in, and making up little backstories for them in his head, idle little daydreams to pass the time. All that silliness and he couldn’t have guessed how far off he was on Edge’s story, winced inwardly to even think of his past assumptions, funeral director, really? Of course, if Red ever set foot in his store, instead of any mental storytelling, he probably would have been discreetly reaching for the can of hornet spray his brother kept under the registers. You know, just in case.
Almost the moment Rus finally set his dessert spoon into his little empty dish, Blue was on his feet, politely wiping his mouth on his napkin, “Well, thank you ever so much for dinner, but I think my brother and I are going to have an early night.”
“yeah, sure, gotta get your rest, baby blue,” Red said easily. He slouched back in his chair, his bony fingers laced together over his broad middle. “gonna have a busy day tomorrow.”
“what…?” Rus started, confused. The rooftop garden wasn’t in that poor condition, was it? He wouldn’t have believed Blue’s expression could get any tighter until it did and Red didn’t wait for Rus to come up with a better question, only eased down from his chair, the wood creaking as it was relieved of his weight, and slouched out a side door that led who knows where in this maze of rooms.
The moment that door closed, Blue turned on his heel and headed for the other one, saying shortly, “Brother, let’s go.”
He went out without waiting, the door swinging shut behind him, and Rus sighed inwardly as he headed after him. Only to squeak in surprise as he was suddenly spun around, Edge pushing him gently back against the closed door, not quite pinning him there with firm hands at his shoulders. His crimson eye lights were a steady glow, not a flame so much as a softly burning coal, and his deep voice sent a shiver down Rus’s spine as he said, teasingly, “Aren’t you going to say good night?”
“good night?” Rus parroted, dumbly, and honestly, at some point he was going to managed to keep his wits about him with Edge so close. Today was not that day and could only stare up with wide sockets as the corner of Edge’s mouth rose in a faint smile. He was so close, close enough to see the slight crow’s-wing shadow on his cheek bone from his injury earlier, imperfectly healed.
He leaned down and Rus’s soul pounded so loudly he could hear it throbbing inside his skull, wondered wildly if Edge could hear it, too. But instead of kissing him, Edge only murmured right next to his auditory canal, “Sleep well, pretty flower shop boy.”
It took a second for that to register and when it did, Rus made a face, scrunching up his nasal nodule at that addition to his new nickname. Not that it mattered, his cottony thoughts weren’t able to come up with a decent protest. His skull felt like a heavy sunflower atop a too-narrow stem as he gave a wobbly nod, biting back a protest as Edge drew back. He didn’t try to kiss Rus, only ran a gentle finger down his jawline, his gloved finger velvety soft.
“you don’t want me to--?” Rus trailed off weakly, unsure what he even meant to ask. Stay? Go to his room with him? The words eluded him and finally Edge made the choice for him, not at all the one Rus expected or wanted.
“Go talk to your brother,” Edge chided. Rus winced, looking down, and he was right, of course he was, he and Blue hadn’t really talked since they got here. His secrets were getting revealed in the worst ways possible and he honestly needed to explain to his brother before he got the wrong idea. He nodded again, unhappily, and when he dared to peek up again Edge’s expression was softened. His voice dropped to a low rumble as he murmured, “Besides, there’s no reason to be hasty, is there? Some things are more delectable when enjoyed slowly.”
The lazy curl of his tongue behind his fierce teeth as the word delectable rolled off it was terribly distracting, oh, holy angel, help me.
“i…i should…” Rus’s own stupid tongue could barely form simple words, much less multiple syllables, why couldn’t he even think properly? Why was Edge so…so…
“Go,” Edge told him, softly, and Rus did, stumbling out after his brother. Who was waiting in the hallway and if his expression had been cool at the dinner table, now it was positively frozen.
“Come on,” Blue said, low, and Rus followed him through the hallways, trusting his brother to know the way and keeping meekly at his heels until they were at their room.
The moment the door closed behind them, Rus started, “bro, let me explain.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Blue loosened his tie, tossing it across the back of the loveseat and that carelessness took Rus aback almost as much as his words. It wasn’t at all what Rus expected, dull-edged and exhausted, and he faltered. He’d been braced for his brother’s temper, his disappointment, any number of things, but not this empty resignation.
“what? of course it matters, bro.” Rus hesitated, glancing around the room as he remembered Blue’s worries about being overheard, and yeah, he trusted Red about as far as he could toss the bastard, and Rus was pretty sure he couldn’t even lift him. “okay, come on.”
He didn’t give Blue a chance to protest, caught hold of his hand and dragged him into the bathroom, closing the door behind them. Then he turned on all the taps to full blast, steam rising from the shower and the basin as the water roared. “there!” Rus said triumphantly, “you were worried about people listening in, now no one can hear us.”
The room was getting warm fast, and maybe that helped melt a little of the iciness still on his brother’s face. Blue looked around, nodding a little, “That’s actually quite clever.”
“i saw it in a movie once,” Rus took a deep, shaky breath, “okay, now, let me explain.”
“What does it matter?” Blue sank down to sit on the shaggy rug in front of the vanity, wrapping his arms around his knees as his sockets fell closed, hiding his starry eye lights as he said, dully, “I’ve already lost you. I tried so hard to keep you safe, but I couldn’t—I failed you.”
“what?” Rus spluttered. This wasn’t going at all like he’d expected, somehow managing to be even worse than any of his pained imaginings, “no, you—bro, just listen, please!”
Blue only shook his head, asking low and raw, “How long have you been sleeping with him?”
“i’m not!” The ‘yet’ seemed to hang between them, unspoken but not unheard. Heat bloomed in Rus’s cheek bones, bright with embarrassed shame.
“Is that where you disappeared to that first night?” Blue accused. His sockets flared open as he scrambled to his feet and there was the anger Rus expected. Except not, this wasn’t the familiar exasperation at his schoolyard troubles or his messy habits, those had no place in the cold fury in his brother’s expression, or in the acid of his voice as he asked, “Off to bed down with him, is that it?”
“we didn’t!” But the taste of guilt was thick in his throat, that had been his intention, hadn’t it? Did it even matter when Edge was the one to turn him away? “it… didn’t…wait, this is getting twisted around, you don’t understand!”
“What’s to understand? That you somehow got involved with that…person…and then dragged me and our shop in with it!” Blue heaved in a ragged breath, bursting out, “You should’ve known better from the start, this isn’t what we need!” He waved a hand at the bathroom, the opulent mirror fogged, the many showerheads pouring a wasteful waterfall down the drains. “All this flash and nonsense! We’ve always had each other, you and I, I always tried to teach you to be better and now you’ve brought this down on us!”
It was so unfair, Rus was near speechless, thick tears clogging in his throat and sockets. “it’s not like that!” he croaked. Then cringed at the scathing glare his brother sent towards him, and he’d never been so angry before, never, why…?
“Are you suggesting I imagined his tongue down your throat?” Blue said, so terribly cold and now the tears were burning, brimming threateningly, his soul pounding achingly with every word.
“no, but—”
“They’re criminals, all of them!” Blue snarled, “Every Monster here! Criminals! Stars only knows how much dust is on their hands!”
Rus couldn’t even protest that, he didn’t know, he could only dig for his own accusations, thin and shrill, “that didn’t stop you from making deals with them! your oh, so, important work tomorrow that you need to rest up for!”
“I am trying to get us out with our store and souls intact,” Blue said bitterly. “What sort of deal are you trying to make that involves spreading your knees? You’re so eager to be used up and tossed aside, I hope at least it pays well!”
Rus could only stare down at his brother in shock as tears welled in his sockets, spilling over in hot trails down his cheek bones, watching as Blue’s anger dimmed, remorse setting in, “Little brother, I—”
No. He couldn’t listen anymore, couldn’t stand here and hear his brother’s hatefulness. Rus closed his burning sockets and willed himself away.
The little breakroom downstairs was darkened and empty, all the gaiety of earlier drained away. Rus stumbled out of his shortcut over to a corner, sinking down to bury his face into his upraised knees, and if his thoughts were clouded earlier, now they were positively lost.
What was he supposed to do? His brother hated him right now and surely Blue would forgive him, (please, oh please), but a lifetime of trust between them was damaged by his foolish secrets, those bitter words still echoing in his skull. Used up, tossed aside, and he could hear Blaze’s crackling voice as he told him that once the Fells got sick of their toys, they broke them.
Idiot, careless, useless idiot, and that cold, inner voice wasn’t Blue, but their Pop, idiot, idiot, he always said, and it was true, wasn’t it. Here they were with everything they’d worked so hard for spiraling the drain and Rus was still caught up in the misty fantasy, letting it carry him along like a toy boat in a stream, only eventually the river would peter out and leave him stranded out alone in the vast ocean.
He couldn’t count on Edge to take care of him forever. He’d get sick of Rus eventually, probably soon. Once he figured out Rus wasn’t anything close to as interesting as he’d first thought, Edge would cast him aside, and the only question was whether it was before or after he and his brother kept their promises. Even if they did, were he and Blue going to be able to step back into their shop, work together as brothers without this hanging between them?
He didn’t know and Rus curled up tightly, muffling his sobs as he cried, and wishing desperately that he’d never sold Edge that first single red rose.
tbc
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Chapter 7: Bloody Reunions
Chapter summary: Time to get the Wolf. Alexis conducts interrogations like the badass she is, but sometimes it sucked being that good at her job. (Protective couple... you don’t even have to squint.)
Warnings: Misogynistic POS, emotional detachment, blood and violence, mild graphic detail of torture. (4490 words... i went hAM lol)
28 October 2019, 0630 "Alexis" and "Alex" | Codename Aces CIA with Demon Dogs Rammazan, Urzikstan
"Place is a freaking morgue."
Judging by the piles of stacked bodies on the medical beds, it was a justified statement. Morgue might be an idoneous word for hospital. The patronising smell of death bypassed her as usual, but not the disturbing scene of unnaturally still bodies.
The handiwork of Roman Barkov.
There was a twisted satisfaction when Alexis shoved another magazine in her M4A1, knowing one of these bullets had Barkov's name mentally carved into it. She couldn't wait to see it lodged between his eyes.
"Check the bodies..." Sergeant Griggs ordered. The Marines and both CIA agents warily slithered along the occupied stretchers and medical beds—hoping none of them was sleeping with a gun.
It was a gut-wrenching sight. Bloodshed and raw injuries everywhere they turned. Not even sure if those alive should be considered lucky.
Suddenly, one of the civilians bolted into a sitting position, making everybody on edge. Frantic shouts and language barrier only escalated the chaos. Not willing to see another dead body, Alexis interjected in mediocre Arabic, calmly demanding the man to lay back down.
"More than a pretty face..." She looked distastefully over her shoulder, the Marine didn't bother wiping the smirk off his face and instead, shamelessly winked. Revolting, but she merely rolled her eyes, though a much younger her wouldn't hesitate to deck his face.
Gender discrimination in the military was a blast. There came a time when a heavy chip weighed down her shoulders—excruciating, yet she thrived under it. Often, some misogynistic meathead would challenge her.
Emotional, weaker, probably a lousy spotter, wouldn't last a week in the jungle.
Eventually, they all ate their words.
Alexis broke through every damn glass ceilings she went: the only female recruit in her company, made Lieutenant, then transferred to JSOC's Task Force Black. Impossible was understating things.
Her unconventional transfer to Task Force Black was a statement in itself. It finally felt like she earned it. Though she loved 88, the CIA was a nice change of scenery, where there were lesser suffocating males with inferiority complex and women were actually appreciated.
Five years later, such remarks were a humourless punchline to her. On the contrary, Alex fantasied how good Demon 1-2 would look with a bruise on his face. In the shape of his rifle stock.
Truthfully, even she considered shoving a middle finger. The weather was hot enough to vaporise her and having a tactical vest strapped against her sweaty body, was not it.
Things changed when another civilian to their 3 o'clock pulled out a gun targeted at the uniforms. While everyone was still busy hollering around, she shot a precise bullet between the hostile's eyes.
With a thud, the man fell off the stretcher.
The female agent scoffed, returning a satirical wink of her own, "Stay frosty, 1-2." He tripped around his words in shock, until Sergeant Griggs forced the gratitude out of him.
Well. If the Universe wanted to send it her way, who was she to reject it, right? She shook her head at the inevitable smirk on Alex, a subtle one hanging on her lips too.
It was a shame that the peace was ephemeral, by this time, several of Sergeant Griggs' men went radio silent. She religiously trailed behind Alex. They pushed further into the hospital, only to be met with a minigun.
"Mini my ass," Alexis laughed nervously as bullets sprayed inches away from tearing her abdominal—because of her ballsy move to switch covers.
"Holy fucking... Okay! Don't give me that look, Alex!"
She thanked the Heavens that Alex's yells were muffled over ricocheting bullets. Several smoke grenades later, Alex sniped the gunman and lo and behold, they finally reached a heavily chained door.
Score, imagery confirmed the Wolf was inside.
It was her job to clear the room while Alex secured the Wolf. Her index finger pressed lightly against the trigger, swallowing the adrenaline that dangerously swirled inside her. Upon Alex's signal, they sneaked in and hid behind messy shelves. The visual of the three missing Marines came into view, with one held hostage with a knife against his throat as the Wolf filmed another propaganda video.
"Check... Five hostiles."
"Affirmative. On my mark," Alex replied. A split second later, he tackled the Wolf from behind. His men's reactions were quick, but her years of muscle discipline was borderline supernatural.
"Clear!" Griggs rushed to untie his men. "You two good?"
Alexis nodded, tightening the zip ties uncomfortably around the Wolf's wrist. She began examining his body language, hopefully finding nibs of his tells to use against him in interrogation later.
Omar Sulaman was strangely calm for a man with a foiled plan. There was slight reluctance in his steps, but still, silence.
"Saint to Watcher, Wolf is in the bag."
Her voice was a stark contrast to the boyish tones that surrounded the room—earning the Wolf's attention, who made the bold decision to turn around abruptly.
"What are you doing here, daughter?"
Alexis felt the entire world's gaze burn into her side profile, equally as confused as the lot. She shrugged and walked away.
Inwardly, the interrogator inside was thrilled. The Wolf was in for a helluva surprise.
━━━━━
28 October 2019, 2100 Sakhra, Urzikstan
The air-conditioned room in the embassy was a godsend, not a word of complaint as the cold air blanketed her. Alexis, Alex, Farah and Hadir patiently waited for Price's arrival.
When Alexis expectingly popped a piece of mint gum, Alex knew. Though it didn't take an expert to discern the ominous aura around her. Alexis hadn't said more than what was necessary in the seven hours since they captured the Wolf, busying herself to study the Wolf.
Alex was smarter than to cut in between. Like Alexis said, she was damn good at her job. Interrogation was one of her most valued expertise, perhaps arguably why the CIA wanted her so badly and the reason why JSOC refused to let her go.
There was a secret to her tactics—compartmentalise. Alexis sat opposite the Wolf, gaze cold as ice. It was a chilling sight even for Alex.
Unscrewing his bottle, Alex greedily rehydrated himself, still observing Alexis. The grittier bite in her tactics was certainly noticeable. He guessed it had something to do with her incident. Having been captured once or twice, that was the closest Alex came to ever understanding her.
Sometimes Alex swore he never got her back.
Physical detachment was a given while she was... compartmentalising, although the rising situation gave him no choice. A shiver ran down his spine as he tapped her shoulders. At the slight arch of her eyebrows, "Bravo's three mikes out."
Alexis blinked slowly in comprehension, not realising Alex's first announcement shot past her. She nodded methodically, the metal chair screeched as she got up. She charged determinedly to an isolated hallway and slipped down against the wall, burying her head in her tucked knees. Despite the rapid intakes of breaths, it didn't suffice.
She loathed every single second in interrogations. Doing the Devil's work, she thought. The irony in this situation was her call sign. For someone called Saint, she didn't know anything else more normal than this.
Saint wasn't a moniker given to her because she was virtuous, innocent or some shit like that. Hilarious to think that, for its darker origin.
Every time she conducted an interrogation, she had to subdue the gag-inducing hypocrisy. How could she, after St. Petersburg?
The reports claimed it was a miracle she survived. Fuck that, what did they know.
That birthday was memorable, to say the least. He had even arranged something special that faithful day—nothing said happy birthday! more than electrocution.
152 days.
"ты прекрасна, ангел... (You are beautiful, angel..)"
"Fuck!" Her eyes shot open, desperate to let the ugly fluorescent light blind the image. Autonomously, her fingers scratched wildly across her arms. After a particularly deep breath, her head fell against the wall and like clockwork, she exhaled all her anxiety.
She was too good at pretending.
It was her desire to stay in solitude longer, but the shrilling embassy siren obviously had other plans. Doubling back, she found Alex at the doorway already looking for her.
"The Butcher and his men are about to breach. We need to leave, now." She peered into the room, barely seeing the tinted glow of the fire outside. Noticing the rising blood clots and angry red streaks on her forearms, Alex clenched his fists to restrain himself from reaching out, knowing she would only flinch. So, he settled for a hard swallow of his saliva, "Follow me."
Price's voice rang in their ears, "Saint and Echo 3-1, primary extraction failed. We're down on the roof."
"Understood. What's the call, Captain?"
"There's a saferoom in the basement. Head there. We'll be right behind you."
When they reached the basement, Alexis basically scrambled to the CCTVs for a sitrep–she had half a thought to join the sweep, eager to rid the hypocrisy from her systems. Eternity later, or in reality, twenty minutes later, their backup arrived.
Price.
The SAS Captain squeezed her upper arm in greeting. Lucky for her, it was where the bullet had previously scraped her. Price clapped Alex's back while glancing at her patched-up injury, "That fast, huh?"
Missed you too, old man, she thought, rolling her eyes as a response. Her coldness confused the Captain, eyes darting to Alex for an answer. He understood when Alex cocked his head at the Wolf.
"Let's move. Clock's ticking."
"You heard her..." Price ordered the Sergeant to direct the Ambassador secretary to safety and the rest headed to the parking lot. While Price and Farah went to retrieve the Ambassador's secretary, the two CIA agents stood guard at the car park entrance.
Under the flashing red coat of the emergency lights, there was no mistaking in the comfort Alex's concerned nod brought her.
It was apparent that Alex was her anchor. But in this state, she couldn't bear to look at him for long, internally disgusted by herself. All these years, she was petrified to ask if he was repulsed by her hypocrisy.
Then, she felt the hesitant touch of a coarse, large hand. She accepted it immediately—much to Alex's surprise. Their fingers intertwined secretly in the dimly lit hallway. Her eyes had long adapted to the darkness, able to witness Alex looking down at her and just like that, a sense of serenity flowed through her.
The unreadable expression on his face was a stranger to her in all their time together. Under the magnetic allure of Alex's gaze and the soothe whirring of his touch, it felt like they were worlds away from a war zone. Until gunshots unforgivingly interrupted.
She immediately retracted her hand.
Afterwards, the group slotted the obtained garage keycard. They fought through waves of Al-Qatala soldiers in low light, courtesy of the lacking streetlights.
The Ambassador's residence was no sanctuary either, as another wave of AQ fighters drew closer. Afraid the rising situation might delay their timeline, Price ordered her to start interrogations immediately. Her heart jumped at the unexpected news, suddenly thrown in the ring.
Hadir and Farah sent nods of encouragement before running out the residence. Price, despite raging at Laswell through the comms, mustered one last small smile for her.
That left Alex, who looked equally worried as her. Wordlessly, he tapped at the base of his neck. She understood instantly, feeling the cool metal of his dog tag against her skin. Obviously they had airtight obligations to not carry personal items, zero accountability and all, but it was Alex. She had corrupted him enough to not give a fuck.
The dog tag was nothing informative, only a simple 'X' carved messily from Alex's kitchen knife. Useless to her enemy, but deadly if it was ever pried from her neck.
It was a matching set. She mysteriously woke up with it after that night with Alex. His way of saying they'd always have a piece of each other.
With one last longing look, that unbeknownst to both of them—burned their insides, Alex left her alone with the Wolf.
━━━━
Her immediate observation? The Wolf was talkative.
It didn't faze her—narcissists simply could not shut up. Past thirty minutes, zero words retaliated and the Wolf was still going on.
Please. She wanted to yawn. Her legs swung restlessly while she sat on a table, undermining whatever authority the Wolf thought he had. The folklores he told in his grandiose sense of self-importance was vexing but valuable.
He hated women in combat. She learnt that when he tried to recruit Farah and even her, just minutes ago. Omar Sulaman thought women were weak.
Exciting.
As he rambled on, she almost failed to suppress a scoff. A woman wielding more power was his stressor, this meathead would be even easier to break.
"You have killer eyes," The Wolf said, tone switched from persuasive to intimidating. He exhausted everything—telling stories of what Barkov's men did to "weak" women, trying to scare her into his protection. Alexis hadn't bothered reacting, which pissed him off.
Victory surged past the fog of irritation inside her. She had conditioned the Wolf by staying quiet, truly a personal achievement. His narcissistic tendencies were itching to get out, evident from how he was desperately reaching for straws.
Alexis reached for her stripped vest and carelessly dug around for a plastic bottle. Popping the lid open, she chucked a mint gum in preparation.
It was time. Clouded by anger, he'd make mistakes that she would catch.
"Somebody hurt you."
She couldn't resist a huff at his eleventh-hour tactics. So the Wolf was now gunning for her emotional side? Fine, she'd bite.
"Don't act like you know me."
"Oh, child... I know more than you think. The look in your eyes, fear..." The Wolf paused, smirking arrogantly even at her mocking smile. "You put a great act, daughter. But I've been around longer than you... seen more."
"I bet... Because what makes a freedom fighter wake up and decide to switch sides?" Alexis circled him in pretence thought, "Money?" Noticing his jaw clenched, she pressed on it. "Power? That's why you made those videos?"
Alexis interrupted at the sounds of his protest, "Surely freedom fighters must not pay well. Maybe you got sick of that and switched?"
"I didn't switch sides! I was always on the right side."
"And what side is that?"
"The winning side," He snapped, "This occupation will never end if we hold sympathy for others."
A narcissist with a saviour complex, laughable. Alexis returned to stand in front of him, the grin ever present on her face. "But you didn't deny my claims—you want money and power."
The Wolf wanted to charge at her but was tied by the restraints, heavy creases in his forehead as he snarled, "No! I am saving Urzikstan!"
"Murdering people is saving them? I know people just like you, hiding behind a cause. After you kill Barkov, you will only start your own regime." Alexis chuckled darkly, "I'm not gonna let you do that. Don't bother holding out, nobody's coming to save you."
"Is that what you tell yourself?" At her strained expression, he continued, "If I die today, I die a hero. You? Your death will be meaningless, a secret." He continued laughing, "You Westerners... Busybodies, you have no business here. The price for that is death–"
He paused, not because of her killer gaze, but as if something in him clicked, "You have no family... That's why you are here." Loud waves of laughter escaped from the man, like he figured it out. And fuck, he did, word for word.
Alexis must have reached Nirvana or gained enlightenment, shocked by her restrain to not blow Omar Sulaman's brains out. She dare not move a muscle, refused to prove him right.
"When my men come, and they will. I will spare you, kill everybody but you. Maybe even make you watch that young man who loves you so much. Then, you shall know fear, child..."
That was it, her trigger point. Blood red. Hot flashes of anger. Picturing Alex's dead body was enough to chuck everything up. The wrathful voice inside her absolutely shattered her restrain, no longer concerned with not letting the Wolf gain an edge.
Alexis bit.
In a flash, she tipped his chair behind and roughly circled a hand around his neck.
"Don't. You think you know fear? You don't know shit until you carve your name on a disgusting brick wall with your bloody fingernails because it was the only way anyone would know what happened to you." Alexis spat, eyes boring at the choking man rendered helpless under her. "So don't fucking talk to me about fear, old man."
When the Wolf thrashed around to breathe, she waited another three seconds before releasing him—the once tipped chair landing wobbly with a sharp shriek. Her sudden outburst gained a new terror visible in the Wolf's eyes. No longer the delicate soldier his sanctimonious mind painted her as.
"Now," She slapped the invisible dust off her hands, tone bouncing scarily fast to normal. "Where is the gas?"
"I... I don't know."
Sighing, she wiped the sweat off her forehead and asked again. Still receiving the same reply, "And I don't believe you. Nothing escapes the Wolf. Someone stole the gas and you knew about it..." Alexis abruptly paused, fingers tapped against her forehead, "No, wait. You made a deal. Help whoever steal the gas and they promise to help you chase the foreign powers out?"
His silence was abundant.
There wasn't a tinge of remorse when her fingertips glided along a screwdriver.
"Since you have been here for much longer... You know this next part." As soon as she wiggled the screwdriver between her fingers, Alexis had him in the bag. The slight twitch under the Wolf's right eye was his tell, fear. Alexis witnessed it when she choked the living hell out of him.
Too damn easy. She should dress a big fat red ribbon across him right now.
"And since you know me so well," She gestured between them, "You definitely know that I'm a big believer in second chances. Right your wrongs, blah blah. I'll give you second chances. Many more, actually, I'm pretty generous... But I'm not sure if you can take it." With that, she ruthlessly stabbed into his left thigh, a devious smile spreading wider with the increased intensity of his screams. The metal tip squelched when she dug around.
"The gas?"
"I... Stop!" The Wolf bellowed in pain when she yanked it out, sprays of blood following. For someone called the Wolf, he had an embarrassing low pain tolerance.
She tilted his chin up, pleased as she surveyed the sweat that broke. "Here's your second chance. Third is when I snap your femoral artery and hang you for all of Urzikstan to see you bleed out. Your legacy will be a joke."
"Y–You can't do that..." He shook his head weakly, eyes blinking in pain. "Everyone will know the Americans are here... You'll be buried with me."
Reducing to eye level, she smiled wholeheartedly, "I'll make sure to dig a grave big enough for us both. Last call... Your third chance is coming," Alexis taunted, nodding towards the electrical screwdriver—witnessing the fear shudder across his body. "Where is the gas?"
She came so close to breaking him, practically seeing the words trying to tumble out of his mouth. Literally a blink later, a truck wildly crashed into their room, crumbling the house's weak foundations. Jerking to a standing position, she instantly reached for her sidearm and fired.
At least five men exited the truck, spraying bullets that forced her to tuck her body behind the slim profile of a cupboard.
They had AKs and she had a handgun, do the math.
She hurriedly pressed her comms, "I lost visual on the Wolf!"
Her instincts wrangled between fight or flight, seeing that she was severely outnumbered and the door was literally on her left. But the morality in her warred on. Suppressed under heavy fire, she still had no visual of the Wolf, but assumed he was freed by now.
She yelped in surprise as a painful tug tossed her out into the open. A burly man wasted no time to attack her. She barely raised her Glock 21 before he swiftly grabbed her wrist and pressed the magazine release button.
He wanted to reach for her Glock's slide lock before she elbowed his jaw, making him stumble backwards but made a quick recovery. He threw her into the metal table and she lost the grip on her gun.
Alexis' back arched painfully across the table, hands scrambling for purchase to rid the tightening hands around her neck. She weakly tried to pry in between his arms, but her lungs burned from the depleting oxygen. Fingers scrambling to poke his eyes and finally mustering enough strength, she sent a cheap blow to his nuts. He hunched over just enough for her to inhale loudly.
Seeing that, the Wolf's man started firing again.
She kneed him in the gut, put him in a chokehold and propped him up as her shield. The man's body jerked in reaction to every bullet he received.
Her ears picked up on the distinct sound of M4A1s approaching closer to her location. The Wolf motioned to leave, dust spluttering her way as their truck wildly reversed, with the Wolf grinning victoriously in the passenger seat.
"We will meet again, daughter! And your lovely man."
He left her alive. Like he said he would.
Miraculously still breathing, the man in her grasps used this distraction to tug on her legs. Seconds later, she felt a splitting pain in her head.
She was on the ground when she reopened her eyes, hazily feeling a wet sensation drip down her temples. The pain mirrored a wave, boggling inside her. Black spots started to consume the edges of her sight.
No no no.
From her blurry vision, she managed to squint out something glimmering in her 12 o'clock—she assumed a knife or her god damn screwdriver coming back to bite her ass.
Not like this.
The shuffles of dragged footsteps echoed in her brain, almost a warning from her body. She blindly saw the shift in light source, presuming he was walking towards her.
Incoherent words tumbled out, forcing herself to speak so she wouldn't pass out. Shaking, she pushed her upper body off the floor and stretched for her fallen sidearm...
That one bullet in the Glock's chambers was still waiting.
More blood flowed messily down her head, further impairing what was left of her vision.
Muscle memory dictated the rest—the grainy grip of her Glock, index finger looped around the trigger.
Alexis prayed when she fired.
At the assuring sound of a body collapsing, so did Alexis.
━━━━━
Price was the one to spot her.
"Clear!" He burst open the door, finding a jarring hole in the walls and an unconscious Alexis laying beside a dead man.
"Shit," Kyle said from beside him. "Is she breathing?"
Price shouted for Alex and the man instantly appeared beside him. Careful not to move her unnecessarily, two shaky fingers checked Alexis' pulse, Price felt his heart threatened to burst out.
"She's alive."
No one heaved louder than Alex. They examined her injuries, a large gash splashed across her right temple that hopefully a few stitches would solve. But her unconsciousness was troubling.
"How long has it been?"
"More than a minute..."
"Fuck, we need to do something!" Alex yelled frantically. Please, please, please wake up. Her chances of a brain injury increased by the seconds. Fuck! He should have stayed with her, why didn't he stay?
His hands gently cupped the sides of her face, feeling an onslaught of tears starting to form amidst the rising stuffiness in his nose. As his light-blue jeans was tinted a carmine red, he decided this was his fault.
Alex jerked at the mention of his name.
"Let me clean her injuries..." Farah coaxed, a cloth that reeked of disinfectant in her hands. Alex reluctantly shifted, kneeling beside her laying body and watched Farah dab carefully, venomously demanding her to exact more care.
"Alex," A powerful grip tugged on his vest, lifting him to his feet to meet John Price. "Ease off. Let Farah and Hadir do the work."
"Captain..."
"She will be fine, trust me." Price chuckled to himself, "Unbelievable. That woman is still an excellent shot." He whistled lowly, staring at the man with a fatal shot to his heart.
Price said with a knowing look, "Clear your head, son."
"Yes sir," Alex exhaled, going to retrieve her fallen comms set on the floor.
Seconds later, Farah yelled for them. The two men doubled back, finding Farah holding Alexis down from wiggling about. Alex heard a groggy mumble of his name.
"Alex..." Alexis repeated, head rolling around despite the yells of protest. "Where..."
"Here! Here! I'm right here. You need to stop moving, baby." Alex skidded to her side and held her outreached hands. His eyes raking over her as if he had the superpower to mentally check her wellbeing.
A weak grin formed at the realisation that he was alive, breathing and right before her. "The Wolf... He... The escaped... He... car... men."
"Shhh, we'll get him," Hadir tried to pacify her while handing Farah a clean cloth.
Ten minutes passed before she started making sense and was fully conscious. Though the pounding in her head was enough to last a lifetime. Her eyes averted to the dead man.
Jesus, the pain...
"Alexis." Price sternly warned.
"Get me up... I'm fine... Don't be a pussy."
Carefully positioning her to sit up, she weakly laid against Alex's chest. The man could care less when her blood seeped into his shirt—evident as he steadied her head against his own, refusing to let her move it wildly.
Staring at her bewildered teammates, she hazily slurred: "Well. Don't all of you look like shit."
‧͙⁺˚*・༓
a/n: i really went with the "i'm injured and my lover finds me and cradles me in my blood" trope and y'know what. y'all are welcome ;) btw sry for the late update... i edited this chapter 17 times lol i was so insecure about it. thanks for waiting lovers!
taglist: @flyboidameron @wanderlustgiant (wanna be tagged? lmk!)
#call of duty x oc#call of duty x reader#alex modern warfare#cod alex#echo 3-1#john price#captain price#kyle garrick#farah karim#hadir karim#kate laswell#fanfiction#call of duty#modern warfare#ysrwrites: kl#please read tw carefully#oc: alexis#killer instinct
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Team GRAY
Back in Volume 2, I decided to make my own OC team on the off chance that there was going to be a character contest. Apparently, there was one, but I only learned about it yesterday.
Either way, I do like the team I made, who are meant to be foils for Team RWBY themselves. I don’t really know if there’s a standard template for this, so I’m just copy-pasting from my document on them.
The basis for the team is Final Fantasy classes, so each of them has an “Overdrive” ability that takes them beyond their limits, but has some backlash (unlike actual limit breaks from that series).
Team Leader: Grey Veyon Appearance: Shaved head, silver goatee. Grey eyes. White hoodie, grey pants. Tall and slight of build. Bio: Grey Veyon is a gentle man, so his choice to become a Hunter surprises many. Indeed, when fighting Grimm he tends to hang back, letting his team take on the creatures in favour of using his Semblance. However, this does not mean that he is incapable of fighting. He carries a quarterstaff that seems to be made of wood, but it is actually a cleverly painted miniature rocket launcher. His fighting style could safely be categorized as “staff aikido,” where he uses weapon and his opponent's momentum to safely turn their attacks against themselves. Weapon: Hibiscus Rod. A mini-rocket launcher disguised as a wooden quarterstaff. Incredibly sturdy. Semblance: Healing. He can knit the wounds of anyone within three meters, though the amount of healing decreases with distance, barely being able to knit a paper cut at maximum range, but being able to reattach limbs (if they're well preserved or freshly cut) while touching the target. “Overdrive”: Holy Light: A pair of angel wings appear behind him, then bright light covers a six meter area, healing everyone within it. Grey then falls unconscious from exertion. Aura Strength: Medium-low. Dust Use: Medium-high. Inspiration: White Mage (FFX)
Second Member: Roan Ghaelach Appearance: Short reddish hair. Blue eyes. Red robe over grey clothes. Average height and build. Bio: Roan Ghaelach is a prodigy of a Dust scientist who once worked alongside his father, Xanthos, for the Schnee Dust Company (his mother, Amber, is a roboticist for a different company), but was sent away after one too many attacks on their laboratory by White Fang. They repelled all attackers without injury, thanks in part to his unique inventions. He is somewhat rash, though his actions will have thought and planning behind them. Roan acts arrogant and condescending, flaunting his intelligence at any opportunity; he does this in reaction to being bullied as a kid for his natural genius, cloaking himself in the very thing he was being hurt over (“I'm a genius, I don't need friends.”). In truth, however, he's desperate for friends, but he's been pretending for so long he finds it difficult to let down his shields. He fights best at long range and utilizes certain Dust mixtures to escape from foes that close in on him. Weapon: Triple Duster. A custom weapon created by Roan, which uses special bullets full of Dust. It has the shape of a regular gun, save for the fact that it has three barrels and chambers for up to nine bullets at once. By manipulating a dial on the side of Triple Duster, he can fire one, two, or all three bullets in the firing chambers, creating bigger or combined effects. Semblance: Dust Augmentation. Roan is capable of augmenting the power of Dust's effects, whether it be empowering the reaction or damping it. This power cannot completely de-power Dust. For example, making Fire Dust only as potent as a candle flame. At full power, however, Dust becomes ridiculously dangerous. “Overdrive”: Omega Blast. Roan loads three different Dust Bullets into the Triple Duster and augments them to full power before firing. Capable of levelling a skyscraper, this attack also destroys the Triple Duster, requiring a rebuild. Aura Strength: Low. Dust Use: High. Inspiration: Black Mage/Gunner (FFTactics)
Third Member: Aurum Bracchium Appearance: Golden-brown hair in a ponytail and a full beard. Hazel eyes. Golden armour over tan clothes, with a wolf pelt cloak. Average height with heavy muscles. Bio: Aurum Bracchium was raised by Faunus his whole life, and considers himself one as well, even though he's a full-blooded human (his adoptive family, a bear-faunus (Dwyer; paws) and hawk-faunus (Lucia; eyes) told him so, having found him near the bodies of his birth parents). He wears his wolf-skin cloak in an attempt to reconcile his beliefs and his blood. And although he thinks of himself as a Faunus, he dislikes White Fang due to the negative light they cast on the Faunus people. He fights up close and personal with every foe, barely thinking of his own defense as he attacks in a pseudo-fury. Weapon: Grimm Reaver. A tricked-out, two-handed battleaxe. Each of its two blades can fire a bullet to either deal extra damage or speed its swing as it bites into an enemy. As an additional utility, it can fire the spike between its blades as a grappling hook, allowing the wielder to reach far places. As one last surprise, it holds a similar mini-rocket launcher as Grey's Hibiscus Rod in the bottom. Semblance: Undiscovered as of his third year at Beacon. (Animus Shroud. Similar to the Schnee summoning ability, but instead of calling upon the foe in question, he takes on its qualities in gold. Initial form is only parts, intermediate form is full shroud, final form allows him to mix-and-match those parts.) “Overdrive”: Master Blow. Aurum puts every ounce of his power into a single attack. Capable of taking out dozens of Grimm in one swing, this attack renders him completely helpless and unable to move for another hour from sheer exhaustion. Aura Strength: High. Dust Use: None. Inspiration: Berserker (FFV)
Fourth Member: Yin Dàlǎohǔ Appearance: Messy short black hair. Red eyes. Wears heavy, spiked, black armour, including a helmet, when on a mission, but his casual wear is a black longcoat over a red shirt and black pants. Short and slight. Bio: Yin is so quiet and reclusive, many people believe him mute. In truth, however, he speaks only when absolutely necessary. Why this is is unknown to many, but he is fiercely protective of his allies, taking every blow to them as a personal failure. He fights with a shield and sword in close quarters combat, but isn't averse to long range combat when necessary. His dedication and silence both stem from a traumatic event, where he and his friend, Whyt Veyon, were attacked by Grimm; she died and his Semblance and Aura both activated. Weapon: Death Lotus. A sword and shield combo. The sword can fire bullets from its tip, and the shield has a compartment of Fire Dust that can be utilized through a nozzle on the front in the form of a flamethrower. For storage the weapon and his armour merge into the shield, which he carries on his back. Semblance: Blackfire. Yin can utilize of some sort of dark energy that explodes on contact with a surface in a manner similar to a crushed Fire Dust Crystal, but black in colour. However, using his Semblance causes damage to himself due to his trauma (this damage can thankfully be healed by Grey's Healing Semblance). “Overdrive”: Rage Demon. Yin's Semblance merges with his Aura, cloaking him in a destructive shroud of dark energy. This merger empowers everything about him, but prolonged use can outright kill him. Aura Strength: Variable. It's stronger when he's defending others, and weaker when he's fighting for himself, becoming practically non-existent outside of combat. Dust Use: Medium. Inspiration: Dark Knight (Bravely Default)
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the old beelzebub bait and switch
For @whumptober2020 day 30: Now Where Did That Come From? (specifically "wound reveal" and "ignoring an injury")
Continues on from day six, wherein Aziraphale thought he had heartburn and then actually it was a fly, day thirteen, wherein it was a lot of flies, day fifteen, wherein Beelzebub may have possessed Aziraphale’s body, but Aziraphale is sneaky, day eighteen, wherein Crowley realizes something is very wrong, day twenty-two, wherein Beelzebub poisons Crowley, and day twenty-six, wherein Crowley crawls off and frantically googles how to get Beelzebub to leave.
This is the end of the possession fic; I’ll be posting it to AO3 hopefully this weekend!
Aziraphale/Crowley, with brief special guest star Michael!
"Crowley?" he heard Aziraphale ask, and a sudden, horrible thought occurred to him, that maybe it wasn't Aziraphale. Maybe Beelzebub had only pretended to leave. Could Beelzebub do that? Split some of herself off from the swarm? Or were the flies not that real?
"Crowley?" Aziraphale called, sounding more distraught now. Crowley wanted to go to him, but Crowley's head was still pounding, and he was afraid, and he was tired from all the miracles he'd had to do to maybe convince Beelzebub that she was needed Downstairs, so he curled up behind the misprint Bibles and postponed making a decision about how much he believed Aziraphale was himself again.
"Crowley? I'm very worried about you," said Aziraphale. "It's me again, she's gone. I'm so sorry you got wrapped up in this, but I'm going to have to ward the place against demons now, and I want to be sure I don't ward it against you, so..." Aziraphale's voice drew nearer slowly, and Crowley curled in on himself until one of the books slid off the shelf and he saw Aziraphale's face looking through the slot. "Oh, there you are, my dear. Are you all right?"
He seemed like himself, but... "Tell me ssomething sso I know it's you," said Crowley.
Aziraphale looked troubled. "Oh. Oh, that's a very good point. I don't know what to tell you," he sighed. "The -- the bit where she had me talk about those mafia fellows, I -- she had access to my memories, but she didn't know the rest of me was still there, she thought she'd got rid of me, so I could -- I could sneakily rearrange things, sort of. It's like when I have somebody come back a second time to try and buy something, I hide it two or three levels deep in 1980s fantasy paperbacks so they either buy one of those or are so put off by all those Xanth novels that they never come back to the shop at all! But... not quite like that, really, because even if my memories were irrelevant books they’d still be good ones." Aziraphale suddenly remembered what Crowley had asked of him, and frowned. "Oh... well, I suppose she could have told you all that too, I just... I don't know what to say, Crowley."
Crowley believed Beelzebub could have said all that, but he didn't think she would; she would have lost her patience, tried to summarize it all, and bollocksed it up because she probably knew even less about 1980s fantasy novels than Crowley himself. "That'sss all right, I believe you," he said, slithering out of the shelf and wincing as he returned to his other form. "Jussst..."
Crowley was about to gripe about how badly his head hurt -- and, now that he was human again, about how badly everything else hurt -- but the door to the shop opened and shut again, and Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a look of panic, and almost as one hurried over to see who'd come in.
The panic wasn't unwarranted; it was the Archangel Michael. Crowley forced himself to stand up very straight and not look at all poisoned, and then that felt objectively wrong, because he'd never done it before, so he leaned against the wall casually. He tried to think of something extremely cool and scary to say.
Aziraphale beat him to speaking, if not to cool or scary. "What are you doing here?" he snapped. "There was to be no interference."
"That's true," she acknowledged, and for some reason she seemed a little worried by Aziraphale's presence anyway. "There... there hasn't been, has there?" she asked, pretending to sound concerned. No, she was concerned, Crowley realized; she was concerned that something she thought she knew was wrong.
Aziraphale huffed. "Well, as a matter of fact --"
"Angel, leave it to me, I know exactly what's happened," said Crowley, airily, hoping Michael would believe this and fuck off soon. "It's the old Beelzebub Bait and Switch, isn't it?"
"I beg your pardon?" Michael said, sharply.
"And I don't grant it," Crowley responded. Were his extremities going numb? They were. That wasn't good. Better hurry this up, then. "You came here because Beelzebub told you to, didn't she? Oh, she does this all the time with her enemies, I just bet she was excited to have a chance to do it to Heaven."
"What? Why would -- why would that have happened?" Michael asked. She was a good liar, for an angel. Crowley might have believed it.
"Because she wants us to take you out, or she wants you to take us out. Either way she wins. She told you she'd found a way to kill Aziraphale, didn't she? And that she'd weakened me and I'd be easy to take out." Michael's expression told him he was dead on, which was great, because going back to human shape had clearly accelerated whatever poison Beelzebub had dosed him with and he was having to sort of grip onto the wall to continue his casual lean. "Beelzebub does it all the time. Takess out at leasst one enemy, maybe two or three at once. No, we've been fine here, haven't we, angel?" he asked Aziraphale.
"Oh! Yes. Everything is completely fine," said Aziraphale, "and extremely normal." Crowley would have elbowed him if he could have done that without losing his balance. "In fact, I rather think you ought to leave," he said. "Now. Or else." He gave her an icy smile, as though she was a repeat customer about to try and walk out with his most prized possession.
Michael decided she'd better leave. "Right, yes, well, thank you for clearing that up," she said, quickly. "I. Yes. That. Thank you," she told Crowley, although it plainly left a bad taste in her mouth. She backed out of the shop, not turning her back on either of them, and when he was sure she was gone, Crowley collapsed.
"Crowley!" said Aziraphale, scooping him up. "What's wrong?" He carried Crowley over to the couch.
"Beelzebub -- ssomething in my tea," he said. "Wass gonna tell you, but then Michael --"
"Oh dear," said Aziraphale, putting a hand to Crowley's forehead. "This is going to be probably as unpleasant as sobering up, if not worse." And he pulled the poison out of Crowley's veins with a miracle.
For a moment Crowley's head felt like it was going to explode, and then... and then everything was fine.
Aziraphale grimaced. "Well, she certainly pulled out all the stops there. A rather potent mixture of insect poisons." He patted Crowley's cheek. "Why don't you rest up, and I'll--"
Crowley grabbed his wrist before he could walk away, and before Crowley could lose his nerve. "Wait!" he said, struggling to sit up. "Wait, Aziraphale, I -- what did you replace the mafia guys memory with? What did you tell her to have her be all..."
"Ah," said Aziraphale, blushing. "I. It was. Well. You... er."
"Because it seemed like she thought I saved you," Crowley said, "and I don't know why --"
"It was a ridiculous daydream I had," Aziraphale blurted, "where you swept in and saved me and, ah, and we. And we were." He wouldn't look Crowley in the eye. "Well, I, ah, I suppose that must have been very obvious. I do apologize if it made you... uncomfortable. I reached for the first thing I thought of; I wanted to be certain you knew something was wrong."
"Oh, angel," said Crowley, feeling very fond of Aziraphale. "You... before you called, I was going to -- it was going to be..." No, no, that was all wrong, that wasn't how he wanted to address this. "I know you love me," he said, and Aziraphale looked very guilty. "I don't know if you know that I love you?" Aziraphale finally looked at him, seeming rather startled by this. "And I -- before you called to cancel, I was going to see if -- if perhaps you wanted... to... to..." Oh no, he was out of nerve already. But the way Aziraphale was looking at him so hopefully... He got to his feet, and kissed Aziraphale, who responded very favorably, and pulled him closer.
When they drew apart, eventually, Aziraphale beamed up at him. "I do want to," he said, "very much so. Although perhaps, unfortunately, the ah, warding of the bookshop should take priority. Also getting rid of those wretched flies in the kitchen."
"Right, yeah," said Crowley, the slight disappointment of having to do that far outweighed by the euphoria of finally, finally clearing that one up. "I can handle the flies, angel. Sorry we had to cancel our plans for this nonsense, though."
"It's perfectly all right," said Aziraphale. "Now there's no way Michael and Beelzebub will ever trust each other, Michael's clearly still frightened of us, and if I am not mistaken, we have... new, more exciting plans for the evening?"
Crowley grinned. "Anything you like, angel.”
#whumptober2020#no.30#now where did that come from#ignoring an injury#wound reveal#good omens#aziraphale#anthony j crowley#ineffable husbands#fiction#kaesa op#text
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FTLOAP: Chapter 48,5: Interlude 6: Traitors
For The Love Of A Princess Masterpost
Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings
Taglist: @drchee5e @hey-its-laura-again @thepixiedustfactory (If you want me to add you to this list, just let me know. ^^)
* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *
If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)
* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *
AN: As promised, here’s an interlude, and a slightly quicker update, too. It’s a tough one but also one I’ve been waiting for for a long time now. It will shed some light onto a character… that’s been simultaneously over- and under-estimated so far. And I’m incredibly curious for how you’re all going to react.
Also, this chapter comes entirely unbetaed. I’m sorry if there are more mistakes than usual. ^^“
***Shoutouts***
Again, thank you all for your lovely comments! They mean the world to me, especially now where the fandom seems to shrink with every week and the responses overall become fewer and fewer. To everyone who still comments, you are my heroes! ^^
. o O o .
With his eyes on the immaculately-kept garden outside, Thuggory stood at the large window in his study, with a disdainful look on his face. “So, tell me,” he sneered in his usual bored tone and without turning around. “Did anything worth mentioning happen today?”
Behind him, the servant nervously shuffled from one foot to the other. “No, your Grace. It was just the same as yesterday. The fighting grounds were filled with men practising their skills, but aside from one slight injury and a few cuts, nothing happened.”
“Idiots, all of them…” Thuggory huffed under his breath. For two days now, all these stupid men were preparing for the King’s ridiculous Dragon Hunt. As if that was anything but a complete waste of time. “Who got injured?” Maybe he was lucky. Maybe it had hit the right man again.
“Erm…” The servant took a moment to think. “Nobody important, I think. It was a man named Gregor, the firstborn son of the Baron of Greenbridge. But it was just a shallow flesh wound on his shoulder, nothing fatal.”
Grunting, Thuggory nodded. For a moment, he’d hoped that Eret had conveniently taken himself out of the game after all. But of course, he wasn’t that lucky. Besides, he surely would have heard about that already.
“So what did the ducal heirs do?”
“Sir Snotloud is still indisposed. Rumours have it that he won’t participate in the Hunt at all.” Thuggory nodded for his servant to speak on. The Westhill boy wasn’t of much interest to him anyway. “The Sirs Dagur and Eret were again practising in the fighting grounds, but just like yesterday, they were going at it lightly. It is assumed that they will only participate in the Hunt for show and all their training now is just so Sir Eret can regain his strength after the attack. Some even jokingly commented that his squire was working out harder than his master.”
Thuggory snorted but didn’t comment. Of course, the highborn heirs wouldn’t get their hands dirty and crawl through the forest for this pointless Hunt. Why would they? They had no use for a measly county somewhere far off their hometown. The same was true for Thuggory, of course, but in opposition to them, he at least had the decency to not even pretend that he would take part in this Hunt.
Although, they probably had no choice in the matter, he mused, grimacing. They held no power of their own, after all, always had to do what their fathers wanted. They had to participate in the King’s charade, if only to give it more significance.
Besides, if the latest rumours were true then the two Sirs were going to use this time away from the public eye in other ways anyway. Just thinking about that brought an angry sneer to Thuggory’s face. If that horse-loving fool really preferred men over women, then he deserved her even less.
Not that Eret should have any right to her in the first place…
“Was the Princess there, too?” he asked through gritted teeth. He already knew the answer, but he had to ask.
“Yes, your Grace. She arrived shortly before noon, joined the ducal heirs for lunch, and then stayed for a couple of hours to watch her betro– uhm… I mean, her soon-to-be betroth–”
Growling angrily, Thuggory whirled around, interrupting the man.
“She’s mine!”
With one furious motion, he wiped a sideboard nearby clear off everything, a carafe of wine and some glasses lading on the ground. They shattered with loud clangour, shards scattering everywhere and wine seeping into the carpet.
The servant winced but didn’t move. “Y-your Grace?”
But Thuggory didn’t reply. He just stared at his fist, anger making it tremble. Astrid was supposed to be his, always had been! Thuggory had known that since the day she was born, drummed into his head by his otherwise useless father. Sure, rumours had it that the King had made arrangements for her to marry one of the ducal heirs. But the grand dukedoms already were close allies of the crown, where was the point in handing the crown’s most valuable possession over to one of them? No, the only logical, only sensible, only possible option was to give her to him, to a powerful rival to buy his support.
Oh, yes, Astrid had been his since her very first breath. But she and everyone else refused to acknowledge that. All she’d ever done was mock him, during their youth and now as well. But, oh, she would learn her place! As soon as she was his wife and he could finally teach her some manners, she would never forget it again.
Thuggory took a deep breath to calm down again, just as the door opened and another servant poked their head in. They hesitated, probably taking in the mess on the ground, but were smart enough not to comment.
“Your Grace? Your… erm… your guest arrived. Where should I lead her?”
He smirked. Now, wasn’t that perfect timing? “Send her into the garden,” he ordered. “And clean the floor again in the meantime.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, instead turned on the spot and walked outside. It was an unusually warm night for this time of year; maybe he would just stay here after his guest was gone. Although, it surely would rain later that night, judging by the clouds and humidity.
“Good evening, my Lord,” came a pleasant and familiar voice from the darkness behind him.
One side of his mouth tipped up into a lazy smirk. “Come here.”
The woman obeyed, came closer and bowed deeply before him. She was an Ástir, the same one he asked for every time. She was not from the main Temple that Fyrir Mala supervised but from one of the smaller district temples at the edge of the city. It was a temple that was specialised in a certain… taste. Thuggory wasn’t allowed to hurt her for real and if she put a stop to his actions, he had to abide immediately. Sometimes, like today, he loathed these rules, but he had to stick to them nonetheless. For now…
The Ástir not coming from the main temple also meant that she didn’t officially play a specific role. But she knew what he expected of her and had prepared herself according to his usual requests. She had some braids woven into her blond hair, and with her slim frame and grey-blue eyes, she was sufficient enough. His imagination could fill in the rest.
“Undress for me,” he ordered, and watched transfixed as she slowly slid off her elegant blue dress. He never looked at her face; that would have ruined the illusion. Instead, his eyes clung to every bit of bare skin she revealed, her shoulders, her breasts, her shapely backside, and he wondered whether Astrid’s curves would be equally appealing once she was his.
What followed was the same fantasy he always acted out when he summoned this Ástir. He made her kneel between his legs and worship his cock until it was hard and leaking. Then he grabbed her head and pushed her down. Tonight, he particularly enjoyed making her choke. The way her body seized, the lovely sounds she made, and the sporadic tears his actions inadvertently drew from her eyes – it all helped to curb and calm his anger. He wanted to come across her face, but that would only remind him that she wasn’t really Astrid. Instead, he made her swallow him down, her face hidden against his abdomen. After that, it was his turn to give her some attention. He made her get down on all four and slap her backside until it was glowing and his hand stung. Then he knelt behind her, fucked into her with his fist in her hair to keep her in place, and pumped her full of his seed, groaning in satisfaction.
Oh, he couldn’t wait until he could do this to Astrid.
Until she was his!
The woman’s legs were wobbly when she got up and got dressed again. He liked to watch her as he enjoyed a fresh drink, liked to see his come slide down her legs and soil that pretty dress.
“Aren’t you tired of this game yet?”
The Ástir threw a curious look at the newcomer, but upon Thuggory’s gesture, she quickly left the two noblemen alone.
“Jake,” Thuggory greeted the other man with an unnerved sigh. “Can’t you wait until after my entertainment is over?”
Lord Jake of Blackshire laughed and lounged down into another chair on Thuggory’s ample terrasse. “Why? Isn’t it always the same anyway? Although, I understand your frustration. It doesn’t seem like your plan is working. Your precious princess is about to marry Sir Eret,” he sneered, “and after that first failed attempt, they won’t risk him getting killed again.”
“I know,” Thuggory growled. “But he promised I would get her as my bride if I fulfil my end of the bargain. And I have! The riots are spreading over the entire kingdom. Soon, the King will be too busy with an open civil war to care about any other threats.”
Jake snorted, audibly rolling his eyes. “Oh, the mysterious man in the shadows. Seriously, who is he that he can make such promises?”
“That’s none of your concern. You can’t betray information you don’t have; the less you know the better. All you need to know is your part.”
Jake leaned forward, his brows furrowed. “And I did my part,” he hissed. “Your old man is gone and you took his place.”
“And you got your promotion, didn’t you? Captain?”
Jake growled. “That was only half of the bargain. What about my father?”
Thuggory waved him off. “All in good time. And don’t you forget your place, son of a baron.”
He could hear how Jake gritted his teeth and swallowed his pride. “You’re right, Milord. Please forgive my impertinence.”
Nodding, Thuggory accepted the apology. Jake was one of his most loyal supporters, maybe even someone he would call a friend. He just had to make sure the man didn’t forget his place from time to time.
“Anyway. He said he would take over the Kingdom when the time is right. And that I can have her then.” He snorted. “Not that she’ll be of any political worth then anymore, that stuck-up bitch! She should be betrothed to me now! Seriously, what are they even thinking up there in the castle? It’s so obvious, their downfall will be their own fault!”
His hand tightened around his drink, the glass nearly breaking again. How could the King reject his marriage proposal for Astrid? As Duke of Meathead, he was one of the most powerful men in the entire Kingdom, with his Dukedom of not small influence and so close to the capitol. The King couldn’t afford to not have him as his ally! Oh yes, all the riots and problems in the Kingdom were the King’s own fault. If only he’d agreed to give his daughter’s hand to him, then the peace could have been maintained.
Oh, but she would pay for her father’s mistakes! With the Ástir, he was bound by law to abide by these boring rules. But once it was Astrid as his wife in his bed? Then nothing would keep him from using her like he longed to. Oh, he couldn’t wait to make her scream.
“If only that loser had managed to kill Eret during the tournament,” he grumbled, downing the rest of his drink. “Then they might come to their senses after all.”
Jake chuckled. “Were you able to find out why he tried that attempt by now? Do you know who instructed him or whether his family got an unexpected payment? Or did he really just do that on his own?”
“I don’t know.” Thuggory shook his head. “Him doing that just on his own makes little sense, but I wasn’t able to find any connections, no-one who could have ordered him to try that attempt. Were you more successful in finding out anything about that rumour about Eret and Dagur?”
Jake leaned back in his seat and grimaced. “No, I wasn’t. I couldn’t find out who started it; in fact, it seems like it started at more than one place at once. Some leads point toward the servants’ market, others to a tavern that’s popular with soldiers, and some even hint that they started at some tea party one of the higher noble ladies held. So, whoever really is behind it, they are good. And as for whether the rumour is true… Well, there’s no proof, obviously. But either way, the princess doesn’t seem to care whether her future husband prefers playing the flute over the violin.” He accompanied his words by outlining a distinct curvy form into the air.
Thuggory snorted. “Too bad. But then she wouldn’t even have a clue about what it means. It was a long shot anyway.”
“I could try to get proof,” Jake offered. “Officially, Eret and Dagur are participating in the Hunt, but that’s just a front, obviously. What would they need that county for? So, if these rumours are true, then they will spend the days in some inn and fuck each other senseless. And if some of my men accidentally storm the room when they hear screaming…” He grinned menacingly.
Thuggory laughed, once. He knew why he kept Jake around. But then he shook his head. “Tempting. But he ordered me to keep my hands off the ducal heirs. He must have plans for them, though he wouldn’t tell me what they are.”
Jake snickered. “So his high and mighty Grace, the Duke of Meathead, doesn’t know everything, either?”
“Oh, shut up,” Thuggory muttered. “I might not know everything – for the same reasons that I won’t tell you more too – but I still know enough. I know that this summer is going to see a lot of changes and that for the next Midwinter Nights, the Gods will witness another kind of sacrifice .”
“Let me guess. Will it be a more… royal sacrifice? Oh, I’d love to see the Prince bleed out. He overlooked me a few too many time and–”
“Quiet!”
Thuggory’s voice was sharp, silencing Jake in an instant. He held up a hand to keep him from asking any questions, as his eyes focused on a bit of shrubbery in his garden. It had moved just now, and he could swear that there’d been a noise, too. Something of a gasp.
He gave Jake a sign who nodded and they both stood up.
“Yes, it really was a shame how you’ve been ignored for all this time,” Thuggory lamented. He walked around and rummaged about with a new drink, covering up any noises Jake might make. “And all that just because you misbehaved a few times here and there. It really wasn’t your fault that this tavern got destroyed now, was it?”
It happened with a swiftness and accuracy Thuggory couldn’t help but silently salute. Within only seconds, Jake had reached into the shrubbery and dragged out the cretin who’d dared to spy on them. “Ha! Got him!”
“Very good,” Thuggory sneered as he came closer. “The Prince was indeed a fool to disregard your talents.”
Jake grinned.
“But now, who do we have here…” Thuggory let his eyes roam over the young man. In the dim light of the night, he wasn’t able to see much, only an untidy mob of dark hair, clothes too simple for a nobleman, and a face that seemed vaguely familiar. “I know you, don’t I?”
The man pressed his lips together and glared at him in a useless attempt to look threatening, despite the knife at his throat. It was almost cute. No, this was no man; calling him a boy was more fitting.
“You certainly have,” Jake snorted. “He’s a squire of one of our beloved ducal heirs.”
A dark grin spread over Thuggory’s face. “Oh right. Now, what are you doing in my private garden? You wouldn’t be here to spy on me, would you?”
The boy was trembling now. Though Thuggory couldn’t blame him; Jake was pressing his knife against the skin at his throat now so he wouldn’t get any ideas and yell for help. Everyone with at least a little bit of sense would be scared.
“I-I heard what you said about Prince Daniel,” he squeaked, terror in his thin voice. “But you won’t get away with that! Not now that I know about what you’re up to! I’ll go straight to the King and…”
Thuggory gave a bored sigh and nodded at Jake who hurled the boy around back into the shrubbery. A moment later, the gurgling sound of a cut throat could be heard, then a body slumping to the ground.
“I know it’s too late now,” Jake commented casually as he wiped off his blade in the grass. The coming rain would wash away all traces of blood. “But I thought you were supposed to keep your hands away from the ducal heirs.”
“The heirs, yes. Nobody ever said anything about their squires.”
Jake snorted but otherwise didn’t seem to be concerned in the slightest. “So, what shall we do with him?” he instead asked, nodding at the shrubbery.
“Just get rid of the body, I don’t have any use for it. Although…” Thuggory paused, then stepped to where the dead boy lay. He kneeled down and after a quick inspection took a heavy ring off the boy’s finger, a decorated knife from his belt, and a handful of coins from his pocket. The fact that he’d had these things in the first place revealed his simple clothes to only be a charade. “Make sure the body won’t get found right away, but also don’t make it too complicated. Let it look like someone was running out of time.”
Jake nodded, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “I know just what to do. And what’s this for?” He gestured at the boy’s belongings in Thuggory’s hand.
“Oh, this.” Now, it was Thuggory’s turn to smile cruelly. “I’ll use these things to cause a little chaos. I might not be allowed to harm Eret directly, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun.“
. o O o .
AN: So…Thuggory really is an asshole! Abusive, violent, deluded, and just Evil.
But! He didn’t plan the attack on Eret and neither did he spread the rumour about Eret and Dagur. In fact… he’s not that much of an evil mastermind at all…
So… where does that leave us?
…
On a side note. Many of you guessed that Daniel would die in this chapter or that it would be revealed that he’d died some while ago already. And I just want to say… I don’t consider Daniel to be a minor character at all.
And last but not least: There’s a phrase I used in this interlude that I’m very fond of… but that sadly isn’t my own creation. It’s the part about "him preferring to play the flute over the violin.” I can’t say for sure where it comes from, but I know that I read it in the “Die Legende von Askir” series by Richard Schwarz.
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If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)
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#FTLOAP#For The Love Of A Princess#Hiccstrid#fanfiction#httyd#Hiccstrid Medieval AU#medieval au#royalty au#hiccstrid royal au#Minor Character Death#tw: abuse mentioned
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Here is my second entry for @naruto-fantasy-week! Just like with my previous fanfic for Day One, I realized I had a lot of potential and ideas to explore with this prompt and story idea so one day, I’ll come back to this fic and expand on the premise even further. But man, I wish I was faster at writing and had more time to chug out the rest of my fanfics because I am running out of time and have five more to go. Let’s see if I can get them all done in time. XD
The title of this story derives from both the chorus lyrics and the song title “Demons Are a Girl’s Best Friend” by Powerwolf. I did scanned this fic for edits but I probably missed some errors.
Summary: Demons, monsters, they’re all the same when you live in a small, rural village always plagued with beasts, curses, and battles between magical creatures. Never in her life did Sakura expect to get pulled into the world of demons, thanks to the curiosity of a fox and tanuki demon. Naruto Fantasy Week, Day 2. Prompt: Monstrous. [Gaara x Sakura, Naruto x Sakura]
Text:
Flashback
Thoughts
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“You have always wanted to caress every monster.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche
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There was a good reason why her village established a curfew at night and on certain days of the year they warned the locals not to venture away from the outskirts of the hamlet and wander into the damp, murky woods that hugged near the village’s perimeter, acting like an imposing wall to another world. Monsters, demons, they claimed, laid on the prowl, waiting for the chance to snatch up an unsuspecting, unfortunate soul who strayed too far from the village and wandered into the clustered, dark forest. Their warnings and cause for concern were not groundless, for people did mysteriously vanish or when traveling to another neighboring town, didn’t leave in time to make it before dusk settled and never returned home. Bandits was the common explanation but there had been cases reported by witnesses, stating they saw humanoid beings with claws, fangs, and animals ears and tails. Demons walked among mankind and they were always looking to steal some away and never bring them back.
Sakura had all these warnings and stories whirling in her brain as she sprinted through the winding, twisted path that would eventually lead her out of the dismal, haunting forest and back to the open fields of her helmet, where she’d surely be safe. She took a calculated risk in coming into the woods to scavenge for plants and herbs but a rare moss grew in these parts abundantly and her shishou needed them to treat the villagers. After a month of braving the secluded, verboten forest with no trouble, now, of all days, when their supply was running out thanks to a fever crippling the younger, more able-bodied folk with dizziness, hallucinations, extreme sweats, and lack of strength, she was spotted and now pursued by two demons. One fox demon and the other, a tanuki demon.
Sakura leapt over a gnarled tree root, gripping her basket firmly to prevent the contents from spilling out and making her covert trek to the woods all for naught. She refused to look behind her. Looking back would slow her down and speed was critical if she was going to survive this frightful encounter.
“Hey, hey you! Why are you running away from me?”
They’re just taunting me! They can’t know where I am!
Ducking underneath a branch, Sakura continued to race, increasing her pace even though her legs ached and her lungs heaved as if her whole chest was on fire. The sun was no longer peeking through the dense canopy and by now, she could hardly see what was in front of her. She had to be close to the outskirts of her town soon--she couldn’t be going in circles...was she?
That worrisome musing distracted Sakura momentarily from her mission, her feet still in motion but her eyes and mind were frozen in the sudden trepidation that in her fear of being spotted by some demons, she took a wrong turn and was horribly lost in these forsaken woods. She forgot to check her feet or look down at the ground, for a nearby tree branch snagged on the hem of her apron, startling her so badly her whole body twisted around from the shocking impact, one hand grasping her apron to tug it free. In doing so, Sakura failed to notice the enormous, thick tree root behind her and subsequently tripped backwards, the basket of herbs flying out of her grasp. Her collision with the bumpy, hard ground was agonizing and endless, her head throbbing and pounding like a hammer on the anvil and she tasted blood in her mouth. The back of her head felt wet and something sharp and jagged was jabbed up against her back. She tried wiggling her fingers and toes but was only greeted with a numbing sensation. Darkness swirled in her vision. She inhaled deep and instantly regretted it, her chest constricting and screeching at her to stop breathing while she hacked up some blood. As an apprentice to a knowledgeable, highly skilled and competent village doctor, Sakura deduced she was in horrible shape and if she didn’t get help soon, she would die.
I’m a dead woman either way. I’ll either bleed out or those two demons chasing me will finish the job.
Tears prick her eyelids and stubbornly, Sakura blinked them back, closing her eyes to alleviate herself from the vertigo that plagued her vision and head. Her trip wasn’t supposed to end like this, with her dying, alone and in pain, while her shishou anxiously waiting for her return with the herbs. She failed her mentor and everyone from her village. How long would it take for them to be courageous enough to explore the forest and discover her body? Or would the earth claim her corpse first?
“Please,” she croaked, ignoring the pain that came with every hagged breath. Tears flowed down her cheeks unchecked, her waning willpower couldn’t restrain them anymore. “Please, someone...help me. Save...my village. I’ll… I’ll do anything!”
A torrent of coughing prevented her from continuing, eyes clamped shut. But in the midst of her excruciating hacking, Sakura swore she heard a feminine, sinister but twinkling cackle. But given the amount of blood she had already lost and sustained a severe head injury, she had to imagine the foreboding noise. Yet the laughter, hallucinated or not, echoed in her head as her head lolled to its side, weariness reaching every part of her, as if a burdensome, cool pall coiled itself around her and held her tautly in its grasp.
“Sleep,” rang a voice that was not her own in her head. “Sleep, and let the two demons claim you. They will save you.”
Despite the pain, Sakura snorted but didn’t argue with the voice in her mind. After all, she was going to die so why waste her energy debating with herself?
“Sleep!” the unknown voice commanded again, this time sounding impatient and irked. Sakura’s consciousness slipped from her control and the last thought she had was this was finally the end and she only hoped someone from the village would at least find her basket and bring the plants back to her mentor to treat her ailing patients.
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When the relentless round of bickering reached Sakura’s ears as she slowly woke up, she thought she was back home, in bed, and the near-death experience she underwent in the demon woods was simply a vivid nightmare. Yet as she fought off the grogginess and slowly opened her eyes, the hope swelling within her crashed almost instantly with such a raging crescendo at the sight of the fox and tanuki demon arguing with each other. They were loud enough that she didn’t have to strain her ears to hear them.
“What do you mean, ‘your territory’? She was wandering on my land when I found her!” growled the fox demon, spiky blonde hair momentarily distracting Sakura with his outburst as he shook his head vigorously. His azuline eyes flashed with rage, pulling his lips back to reveal a sharp set of canine teeth.
No emotion registered on the tanuki demon’s pale visage or his aqua eyes, his scarlet hair remaining Sakura painfully of her own blood that she was hacking up not long ago. She felt sore, true, but nothing as horrible as the agony wracking her body when she lied motionlessly, in the woods that evening. Had these two demons healed her fatal injuries?
There was no one else but them who could have reached me in time. But how did they save me? And more importantly, why?
As she pondered these puzzling inquiries, Sakura carefully listened on to the demons’ bickering. Their argument involved her but for what?
The ruby haired tanuki demon sneered at the blond fox demon. Dismissal was the only impression marked on his features now. “Since when did your territory cross over into mine? The once mortal was gathering in my domain and therefore, she will be a part of my clan.”
Clan? Is that what they are yelling to each other about? Whose territory they found me in?
At least they didn’t plan on devouring her. After all, why go through all the trouble of healing and patching up your prey if your own goal was to eat it?
The golden haired demon’s ears twitched irately and the fox demon crossed his arms. His long, fluffy, gilded tail curled around the side of his left leg, looking so soft despite the anger charging through its owner. “Then why don’t we ask her ourselves?! I bet she’d rather stay with me than you, Gaara!”
Sakura froze as the tanuki demon–Gaara was his name–turned his attention towards her, teal eyes narrowing at her huddled form. Like Naruto, he too had ears and a tail, but his ears were more round and the tail shorter but seemed firmer. The fur on both the tanuki demon’s ears and tail was a tawny hue, with faint patches of black along the tail.
“Finally, a good idea on your end, Naruto. The once mortal is awake now.”
The mood on Naruto’s face immediately shifted to one of curiosity and excitement and he immediately dashed up to her before kneeling down by her feet. Up close, he had what seemed to be whiskers but they were flat across his cheeks and had the appearance of facial markings or tattoos. From his enthusiasm to the wide beam he was delivering her, this fox demon reminded Sakura more of a loving hound than a dangerous creature. Could she have been mistaken to believe they wanted to hurt her, or at least, this one? The chase could have been one giant misunderstanding–after all, they were talking about her in their domain so perhaps that’s why they were following her after she ran away? To warn her not to trespass into their territory again?
“I’m so happy to see you’re awake! My name is Naruto!” he introduced instantly, his tail brushing up against her leg. Its fur was just as downy as she imagined.
“I’m Sakura,” she answered, her throat dry as she rasped out her name. She turned to look at Gaara, who was busy boring a hole in the back of Naruto’s head with a venomous glower. “And your name is Gaara, right?”
The said demon jerked his head up and immediately pinned his uncompromising scrutiny on her. “You were listening to our conversation.” His words were a statement, not a question.
She nodded her head, figuring there was no point in lying. “Yes, but I would hardly call that a conversation. More like a heated argument.” She leaned forward, feeling some of her muscles groaning out in protest but at least she could feel her legs, hands, feet, and arms and every other limb attached to her. “But before I forget, thank you for saving me in the forest. I was critically wounded and thought I was going to die. But you two spared me and mended my body to practically brand new. I cannot thank you enough. She moved to get on her hands and knees to give them a proper bow, to demonstrate her thanks to such powerful beings but Naruto zapped his hands out to halt her movements. Bright sapphire eyes looked at her with concern and alarm.
“No, don’t move, Sakura-chan!” he pleased. “You still need to rest. It will take some time to adjust to your new body and—”
All warmth drained from her at his last few words, every part of her stiffening at his admission. Dread pooled in her stomach, seizing her by her throat and she recoiled from him, landing back on her rear. “What did you say?!” She nearly shrieked out, frantically glancing down at her hands and legs but seeing nothing different or out of place. Was the change elsewhere, like on her face or head? “‘New body’? What the hell does that mean?!”
Gaara hissed. Naruto’s eyes widened in horror at his slip.
“Uh, I didn’t mean that! I misspoke! What I actually meant to say was that your completely normal human body is fine and you don’t have to worry about it except for resting up and not overexerting yourself.” he quickly amended. He shot her an assuring her grin but soon dropped it after she narrowed her verdant eyes at him.
Gaara rolled his eyes at Naruto’s pitiable attempt to cover up his error. The damage had been down and now, the once mortal called Sakura would be panicking now. “Forget it, Naruto. She has to be told. Before she does something stupid, like run off and crash into a bunch of humans and scare them.” Now he was glaring at her, daring her to prove him wrong.
She cut him a fulminating glower of her own, refusing to be cowed or scared by the likes of him, even if he was a demon. By now, her fear of demons and what they could execute on humans had long since passed. “Tell me what?”
Naruto fidgeted uncomfortably prior to producing a hand mirror the size of a large mixing bowl and presented the item to her almost apologetically. “It’s easier for you to see than for us to explain to you. But Sakura...you have to understand, we had no choice. You were dying and this was the only method to save you.”
Her hands nearly trembled as she accepted the mirror but her grip on the hard, curved edges remained strong. As she steadily tilted the mirror’s surface to reflect her visage, her fingers dug anxiously into the metallic, intricate frame until her knuckles were pale as cream, refusing to let go as Sakura came face-to-face with the monster in the mirror.
Brilliant garnet, gold, emerald, and topaz feathers stuck out along her wide forehead like a crown, skimmed the bridge of her nose before disappearing completely. The same array of feathers poked out in tufts behind her short, pink hair, no doubt coming out from the upper section of her back. These same luxurious feathers coated at least half of her arms and when Sakura tried to shift around to see how far those feathers went, she caught one of her motionless wings out of the corner of her eye.
For Kami’s sake, I have wings now?!
Still unable to speak, Sakura reached out behind her and felt her fingertips brush up against the bend of her wing, the texture of the feathers firm, smooth, and silky soft. A little tingle jolted up her spine as she continued to touch or stroke her wings and reluctantly, she stopped. Wings were more sensitive than she realized.
“Sakura?” Naruto’s tentative, worried tone brought the said young woman out of her trance-like observation. His bright blue eyes looked utterly wretched and pleaful as their gazes crossed again that Sakura couldn’t find it in her heart to be so angry at him, even if this transmogrify changed her life forever, in a way she never expected nor was prepared for.
“Was my condition really that severe?” she asked quietly, first looking at him and then Gaara for confirmation. While Gaara tilted his head to the side and barely nodded, Naruto’s head bobbed up and down rigorously like an unstoppable ball.
“There was so much blood that Gaara had to be away from you at first--blood kind of excites him, you see,” Naruto quickly explained, unaware of Gaara scowling darkly at him or Sakura’s eyebrows rising high at this new information about one of her rescuers. “But he calmed down once I tried to heal your injuries or wake you up, but you were unresponsive. I think you might have broken a couple of bones but I couldn’t tell.”
“What we could tell was that your soul was faint and fading fast,” Gaara interjected, brushing past Naruto to take a seat next to Sakura. His tawny tail brushed up against her wings and Sakura suppressed an involuntary flutter that spread across her shoulders. “Naruto felt guilty that our chase led you to your demise and wanted to save your life by turning you into a demon, one of us.”
“What about you?” Sakura found herself asking, leveling her eyes with his, unafraid to confront and meet his seemingly intense scrutiny. Up close, she noticed black rings outlined his upper and lower eyelids, making him seem less imposing and more...cute?
Focus, Sakura! Now is not the time to be thinking like that!
“I agreed to help Naruto only to stop his blubbering,” he answered curtly, ignoring Naruto bristling and squawking with outrage at his blunt remark. He paused, cocking his head at her as if she suddenly became a fascinating creature to him. “But I must admit, I was rather curious to find a dying mortal being cradled by the branches and roots of the forest.”
Sakura’s jaw dropped at the last part of his admission. “Wait, what are you talking about? Before I passed out, I certainly didn’t see any trees coming to support me. Yes, it was getting dark out and yet—”
Yet she did hear a strange voice in her ears, echoing all over the forest while she was slowly dying but simply chalked the noise up to hallucination due to her blood loss. Perhaps she didn’t imagine those words at all and there was really a spirit of the woods watching over her.
Her realization must have dawned evidently on her face for Gaara sensed it immediately and narrowed his eyes at her.
“Yet what? What do you remember?” he demanded.
This time, Naruto was the one sending him a glare. “Calm down, Gaara! She just had a near death experience and has to adjust to being a demon now. Give her a break, will you?” Growling, Gaara turned his furiously at him and the two demons were about to dissolve into another snarling, bickering match if Sakura didn’t speak up.
“I heard a voice, while I was bleeding out.” Both their heads snapped back to her, completely focused on her and her alone. “I can’t remember everything but the woman or whoever the voice came from, told me to sleep a couple of times. And for me to let you two save me, I think.” Eyelids now closed shut, Sakura wracked her brain to think back on those terrifying moments, where she was battling to stay awake and in vain attempting to move when the voice first came to her. The voice definitely wanted her to not be awake when Naruto and Gaara found her but why? Was it because she needed rest for her injuries and the impending transformation and the spirit sensed that? If that random theory was true, then why would a spirit of the forest care about her?
Gaara and Naruto exchanged pensive looks. “That does sound like something Kaguya would do,” the fox demon pointed out, donning a wary expression. “I know she’s supposedly dead and all but maybe her spirit does live on in the trees of that forest. The Tadasu no Mori was known to be her favorite resting place.”
Unlike Naruto, Gaara’s visage was unreadable. “It’s possible. And when she was alive, she was known to transform human mortals into demons.”
Not wanting to be left in the dark about the spirit or woman who had some contribution in saving her life, Sakura chimed in, “Who is Kaguya? Was she a demon like you?”
Both of the demons nodded, their expressions completely somber. “She was one of the oldest of our kind but as the years dragged on, she became bitter towards both humans and demons alike and sought to bring about the destruction of this world and begin anew with her chosen few.”
Shocked, Sakura could only stare at them and nodded silently, wondering how her village and people elsewhere never learned about such a catastrophe. Humans had stories and warnings about demons but nothing about a tale regarding an embittered demoness who craved to incite the end of the world and start a new one. Naruto’s face softened as he continued.
“There was a long, bloody war between Kaguya and her allies versus those who opposed her. The humans that did get sucked into this conflict either perished or died soon after before they could pass along their memories of the war and fighting alongside demons as friends.”
“That or no one believed them and ruled their words as ‘outlandish tall tales’,” Gaara cut in sardonically. “But that’s besides the point. Kaguya was eventually slain in battle, her supporters either dead or capitulated. Her corpse was destroyed, the ashes scattered in Tadasu no Mori. If she is the voice you heard, then we’ll have to be more careful.”
Despite her head swimming with news that there had been a dangerous, secret war between demons and to an extent, humans, Sakura frowned at the cautious tone in Gaara’s voice. “‘We’?” she echoed. “Why do we need to be careful? Kaguya is dead and long gone now. Even if her spirit was with me in those woods, she couldn’t hurt us, could she?”
“No, but she still has loyal allies waiting in the shadows that survived the aftermath. Some have tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to revive her while others assay to continue what she started. And they would be quite intrigued with a human girl who was changed into a demon, a phoenix demon no less. Our whole kind would be. There hasn’t been a phoenix demon nor metamorphosis like yours in centuries.”
“But don’t worry!” Naruto chimed in cheerily, hoping to alleviate Sakura’s trepidation of how interested other demons would be in her. “Gaara and I will protect you! If you stay with us and our two clans, no demon can come along and snatch you up without starting a territory dispute. We can even show you how to use and train your powers as a demon!”
That offer definitely had merit and would certainly come in handy in this new world of demons and their own brand of politics and schemes. As touched as she was with Naruto’s vow of protection, she wanted to be able to better defend herself and learn what she was capable of in this new demon body of hers. The wings and feathers would still take some time to get used to.
“Weren’t you two arguing earlier about who I get to stay with though? Why the change of heart?” she said, a teasing edge in her voice.
Naruto’s cheeks flushed a vibrant vermilion, embarrassed as he sputtered and then mumbled up some excuses about ‘the strength of two is better than one’ and that ‘they didn’t know about Kaguya at the time’. Gaara remained po-faced through it all but his lips did curve up in a half-smirk. In the back of her mind, Sakura wondered what he’d look like if he fully smiled. Naruto’s features always lit up so infectiously when he beamed at her. He was like the sun.
“It’s okay, Naruto,” she interjected, reaching out to touch his hand and halting him in mid-rambling. “I understand. Thank you, both of you, for offering me shelter. Being a demon...it will take some time for me to get used to that. Especially since it seems I cannot go back home, right? Or am I wrong?” Deep down, she clinged to the absurd hope that maybe she’d be safe in the village, that while everyone would be flabbergasted or scandalized at her new form, they’d learn to accept her monstrous transmogrification and carry on with their day. But that vain hope flickered out and ebbed away like a small ember in the firesite when she witnessed the plaintive sympathy flashing in Naruto’s cerulean eyes or the disapproving expression overtaking Gaara’s pale features.
“No, you’re not wrong, Sakura-chan,” the fox demon admitted ruefully. “If you go back to your village...things can go poorly.”
“You will be killed or imprisoned. And I would slaughter the fools who harmed any part of you, down to a single hair on your head.” groused Gaara, arms crossed resolutely. Sakura didn’t doubt him. There was no way she would risk the village being subjugated to his wrath simply because she missed her home and wanted to reveal herself to those closest to her in hope they would understand and accept her. They might but that didn’t mean the neighbors would. There was a reason why some towns had trained demon hunters and while her hamlet didn’t have any professionals like that, the village leaders could easily request one of the nearby settlements to let them borrow some of theirs.
Her vibrant wings spread out, only a little for her feathery, colorful bends to be able to brush against her cheek, as if to comfort her. So much had betided to her in less than a day, even though time seemed to have stretched itself for weeks. “You don’t have to worry about me sneaking off to go back to my village,” she replied dejectedly, reaching to card her fingers through the differing layers of feathers her wings seemed to have. She couldn’t mull about what she lost besides her humanity.
And shishou must be worried sick by now since I haven’t returned back to her clinic yet…
Eyes widening in remembrance, Sakura snapped her head over to her basket of herbs, relieved to still see it lying there, untouched. She didn’t imagine its existence after all!
“Demons can cast illusions and shapeshift, can’t they?” she queried abruptly, startling both Naruto and Gaara with her out of the blue question. Their eyes watched her as she twisted around to pluck the basket up from the ground and cradled it in her arms.
“Yeah, fox demons like me excel at both those abilities,” admitted Naruto proudly. He then elbowed his fellow demon playfully. “Gaara over here can cast a glamor but it won’t last as long as my illusions. Why do you ask, Sakura-chan?”
All right, this idea of mine just might work. I simply need to get both of them to agree with my request, Gaara in particular. He might not like what I have to say.
Toying with a stray piece of straw from the basket’s handle, Sakura replayed the words in her head one more time before voicing what was on her mind. “I know we already discussed me returning home is a terrible idea for me but my village needs these plants I gathered for them earlier. If you two use your illusions and glamor, the three of us could safely enter my village without issue. When I find my shishou, I deliver the plants to her, and once we say our farewells, we’ll leave.” The pinkette looked down at her basket, the source that landed her into this new life of hers. “It will be too risky and dangerous for me to go alone so I figured if the three of us go, there shouldn’t be any problems.”
Frowning, Gaara opened his mouth, probably to object, but Naruto quickly cut over him to exclaim, “Of course we’ll help you, Sakura-chan! It’s the least we can do.” He tilted his head at Gaara expectantly prior to adding, “Right, Gaara?”
The said demon cursed profusely, continuing to frown irately even as he agreed with Naruto to accompany her to the village but warned her he wouldn’t tolerate any delays or side-trips.
“Just give your teacher those herbs and we leave immediately,” Gaara had told her flatly before he cast a glamor over himself to appear normal, like an ordinary human while Naruto’s illusion cloaked both him and Sakura.
“Don’t worry, you’ll have time to say goodbye to your teacher,” he whispered as he weaved the illusion over them, winking conspiratorially at her. “You ready?”
She nodded firmly. “Yes. Let’s go.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They ended up staying in her village a little bit longer than Gaara wanted but he suffered in silence, uttering nothing to anyone when Sakura embraced her shishou and presented the long awaited herbs, apologizing for the wait. Like Naruto, the tanuki demon remained close by Sakura’s side, his eyes observing every little movement, a sentinel ready to turn into a vicious warrior if there was any hint of Sakura being threatened. Tsunade, Sakura’s mentor and mother figure, merely raised her eyes at the two strangers but didn’t comment on their presence at first. She directed her attention back to her apprentice, relieved to see her safe and sound after all this time but was simultaneously puzzled when Sakura announced she had to depart the village and didn’t know when she’d be coming back.
“But Sakura, I don’t understand. What do you mean you’re leaving?” Her honey brown eyes moved from her apprentice to Naruto and Gaara, suspicion etched on her features. While Gaara stoically glared right back at her, Naruto at least attempted to act congenial by beaming toothily and waving awkwardly at Tsunade. “Do these boys have anything to do with this peculiar decision of yours?”
Sort of. But it’s complicated.
Instead, Sakura answered, “It’s a long story, shishou, but they helped me. And right now, I just can’t stay here any more, not for a while.” Or ever.
However, she kept that dismal line of thought to herself, stowing it in the darkest recesses of her mind because she didn’t want contemplate the possibility that this could be the last time she’d ever behold her teacher again, the only person who truly cared about her dreams and desires and offered her an apprenticeship in medicine. And if Tsunade believed there was a chance she’d see her apprentice again, then she might be more accepting in letting Sakura go with Gaara and Naruto with minimal fuss.
Even though the urge to tell Tsunade the truth, to break down in her arms and sob that she was no longer human and wouldn’t be welcomed anymore by the people who once thanked her for treating their wounds and ailments, fiercely chewed her up minute by minute, clawing at her to cave in. Instead, she steeled herself against Tsunade’s observant scrutiny and dug her fingertips into her besmirched apron, thankfully only covered in dirt and grass stains and not her own blood.
Tsunade regarded her carefully, her gaze never wavering for at least thirty seconds or so until she let out a heavy sigh and her shoulders sagged. “I know what it was like and what I craved for when I was your age so I won’t press you, Sakura. But please visit me when you can and don’t forget your training. I long to see you become a top physician in your right.” The older woman smiled fondly at her, patting her head as Sakura brightened at Tsunade’s remarks. Even with such little information given to her, Tsunade still believed in her and trusted her judgment. Maybe one day, she’ll tell Tsunade what really happened, after she became wholly accustomed to her demon body.
“Thank you, shishou. I promise I won’t let you down!”
Her mentor nodded firmly, satisfied with the fiery resolve blooming across Sakura’s visage. “I’ll hold you to that promise, Sakura. And as for your two ‘friends’...” She turned around fully to face them with the full force of her disapproving glower and cracked her knuckles. “If either one or both of you cause my Sakura any amount of grief, pain, and misery and she doesn't break enough bones in your body, then I will personally see to it the two of you won’t be able to walk or eat solid foods for several months. Do I make myself clear?”
Despite being a demon, Naruto immediately bobbed his head, blue eyes wide and alert. “Yes, m’am!”
Gaara grunted but nodded his head slowly, unfazed by Tsunade’s menace. He probably found her mentor’s violent words amusing, just like Sakura’s presence was to him.
Sakura groaned in her hands. Thankfully, there were no more outbursts and threats and three of them managed to leave Tsunade’s home with Naruto and Gaara in one piece. She had no idea what would be in store in her when she ventured into the world of demons, yet at least she wasn’t doing this journey alone.
Stretching out her motley wings to get used to their height and wingspan, Sakura watched Gaara and Naruto unlock the complex illusion that was cast over the main gateway into their clans’ lands and closed her eyes in relief. Yes, at least she wasn’t alone and would have help along the way in training and harnessing her demonic abilities and one day, be able to fly on her own. She was looking forward to that part.
“The stories got it all wrong,” she murmured to herself. “Demons aren’t so terrible after all.”
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