#but I sort of took yesterday off from animation so that doesn’t count

[hplonesomeart]

HEY. HEY SO UH. SO UPDATE ON THAT SNATCHER ANIMATION I WAS MENTIONING UH JKSJKSJSP

[mysicklove-main]

𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄

Parings: Dabi x Nurse! Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Stalker-ish elements, Injuries, Talk of violent acts, Heavily suggestive comments. NON-CANON. Gn! Reader

Summary: The villain patient that can't seem to get out of poor Y/Ns head.

“But Nurse Y/N, my hands are all chained up. How am I supposed to eat? C'mon be a doll, and help a guy out,” Dabi purrs, and you roll your eyes. Ever since the new, very much villain, patient has checked in; he has been determined to take up all of your time. 

Your time desperately needed being a sought-out nurse. You haven’t told Dabi yet, cautiously staying a distance away from him, but with your touch, you provide natural pain relief. Sort of like a drug would do but without the side effects. But it only lasts about twoish hours.

Dabi is one of the strongest villains of the League of Villians, and here is his, caught and acting like a child. He has two broken ribs, a punctured spleen, a concussion, and a sprained wrist. Other than the spleen that has been taken care of, the rest were not deadly. But he acted like he was on his deathbed. 

Day three of his antics, and you were already used to it. You were assigned to be his personal nurse because, for some reason or another, Dabi here has threatened to murder every single one of your coworkers. It actually surprised you, seeing how whiny and docile he was with you. But then again, he is a villain. They are full of surprises. “You already ate, and I am doing something right now. Do you want me to call in my assistant to help you?”

“The one with the big nose and dreary eyes?” You sigh but hum in agreement, knowing if you react to that, he will just fiend off the attention. “Pass. Why would I want him when you treat me so well, pretty?” You refuse to blush. He was just teasing you; you were just another toy to play with. “Awe, don’t ignore me. Cmon, I won’t bite.” 

You raise your eyebrow like this, and for the first time since you walked into his room, looked at him. “You tried biting the other nurse yesterday!” 

At your reaction, he tilts his head to the side and shows a lazy grin. “There’s that pretty face I have been waiting for.” You groan and begin to grab your tools and leave the room when he stops you. “Hey–Hey! Okay, yes, I did try bite her, but she deserved it! I called for you, not her. The bitch tried to touch me.”

You turn from the door and face him, a frown on your face. “And if I try to to touch you, will you bite me too?”

The smirk doesn’t fall. “You want to find out?” This time you do blush. You can’t help it. The man was just insufferably flirty. You sigh loudly and finally leave the room. He groans when the doctor passes you and walks into his room.

Dabi has been watching you for a couple of weeks now. The first time he saw you was when you helped Toga out, surprisingly. You must not have recognized her because when you saw the child-like villain covered in bruises and scratches (from a fight with a hero), you immediately stopped your walk from home to help her. Of course, the girl tried to kill you, but with one glare from the fire welder, she stopped. You didn’t see him at the time, but he was definitely there, just watching from the shadows.

He watched as you took away her pain, and he remembered his eyes widening and heart thumping. You could heal him, make all of his pain just slip through his fingers. No more of the nauseating pain of the staples in his skin and the nights where he stayed awake from the burns that sometimes would flare.

It was an infatuation at first. But as the days went on of him watching you walk home, he grew more and more attached. He would send wounded people and animals to you to see just how you react. Eventually, after the first week, he grew more bold. He sent wounded villains to see how you would react. 

As expected, you took some of their pain away and told them exactly what to do to keep their wounds clean and how exactly to heal them. Dabi, of course, watched and made sure non of them tried to touch you. But he knew you also had some sort of moral because when you left the injured villains, you called the police, who sent heroes that tried and failed to scout for the villains.

You were kind. Even if technically you weren’t interested in villains, you were interested in helping people. He burned, and you healed. The two of you would never work, but still, Dabi couldn’t stop the infatuation. The one stemming from your quirk and now onto just you as a whole.

So, he got himself arrested. He didn’t put up much of a fight and knew that the heroes would kick his ass and send him to the hospital. The blue-eyed man went out of his way to provoke them, but still, his injuries were minor compared to what he wanted. If he were in critical need of help, you would have your attention on him and solely on him.

And now, he waits daily for you to walk into that dreary room. He waits for you to finally take away some of his pain when he closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep. He has to keep his moans in as, finally, for the first time, all of the itching and burning pain just disappears for a short period of time.

He was assigned other nurses before, but it pissed him off so immensely he threatened to kill them and their families. He would do it if they didn’t have some sort of relationship with you. He didn’t want to provide you with pain you couldn’t take away. 

But finally, after two days of being in the hospital, you were assigned his nurse, and things couldn’t be better. Of course, if you talked to him more sweetly, of course, but he would take all that he could get. It has been four days since he has been under your care.

“Was that really necessary?” Your beautiful, perfect voice asks when you walk in for his morning assessment. Instantly his fowl mood from seeing the Doctor vanishes.

He grins at your furrowed eyebrows, “What, the fake screaming or the fake seizure?”

“Both!”

He chuckles lightly at your exasperated expression. “You were taking too long. Missed my pretty little nurse.”  

You roll your eyes and sigh, walking over to the man. You look over his chart as he continues to ramble, “I had some dreams about you last night. You were naked of course, and you were in front of me–down on your knees and–”

“Dabi!” Your furiously blush is back when you cut him off, and he grins. He loved it when your cheeks turned adorably pink and your eyes looked everywhere except him. He loves your flustered expression. You were just so easy to tease. “N-No more of that, okay. You are giving me a hard time, Y’know, the other nurses think I am…doing something with you.”

He tugs against the chains just to hear them rattle against the bed. Trapped. But with you, so he could take it. He looks up at you with amusement. “What, fucking me?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. “Yeah. The others are beginning to gossip, and if corporate believes them, I could lose my job. So, cool it with the flirty remarks, yeah villain?”

His eyes narrow at your remark. Were the others bullying you? He looks at the dark circles beneath your eyes. Were you staying up because you were worried about losing your job? The sick bastards.

He leans forward, as far as the cuffs allow him to, and whispers near your ear, “Y’know my little nurse, I can just kill them all. Then you wouldn’t be afraid.”

As expected, you jump back, and your eyes widen. You look toward the police at the front of his door and gulp, hoping they didn’t hear anything. When you do, though, you do a double take on your actions. Why were you afraid of him being caught? You should be reporting what he said to the police, not hiding it.

Dabi could basically read your mind. He saw your eyes flash to the police and had to bite his lip to hold back a smile. This was progress. On the first day, you reported him immediately for saying something. But now, you were almost hiding him. “No need to scold me, I know, I know. I won’t kill your friends and I’ll try to behave myself.”

You sigh and nod. “Thanks, Dabi.” You hate that you are beginning to treat him like he was another one of your patients. Or even more, a friend. He is a villain.

“Try. No promises, pretty.” You lightly elbow him in his shoulder, something you never do to patients. When the both of you realize this is the first time you touched him (other than at night or earlier mornings when you use your quirk), the two of you stare at each other. Then, slowly that small, villainous smile creeps upon his face, and you gulp and turn around.

You grab his breakfast from the tray behind you and shakily place it in front of him. Once down, you nod and begin to scramble away. Then you hear the sound of metal on metal and pause. You turn around and see his eyes flash to the cuffs around both of his hands, and you gasp in embarrassment. You knew he was chained up and couldn’t eat, but for some reason, you didn’t process it. He was driving your brain haywire. “Right! Sorry, so sorry. Let me grab you a spoon.”

Then with shaky hands and a wobbly smile, you dip the spoon into the oatmeal and raise the spoon up to his mouth. His eyebrows raise as your usual confident and professional composure slowly begins to fade. 

He knew he was finally beginning to play an effect on you. So, he opens his mouth and lets you feed the disgusting hospital food into his mouth. Those crystal blue eyes stare at you as you drag the clean spoon away from his mouth. For the first time in a bit, he is silent, no flirtatious remark, no whining, no threatening. He just stares at you. The silence made it hard for you to focus.

But eventually, he gets tired of the food. So, after one last bite, he finally speaks. “Thats enough, Doll. Thank you. But I’m feeling rather tired, mind if I rest for a bit?” This was the first time that he was kicking you out. It was strange, so you quickly nod your head and scramble out of his room. 

The two policemen give you a questioning glance at your fast departure, but you just smile clumsily and walk to your next patient, completely distracted by those piercing blue eyes that you can’t seem to escape.

Day five of caring for Dabi went the same as the fourth. Dabi making you feel flustered while you just trying your best to ignore it. He was a villain, after all. But, no matter how hard you try, the past two nights, your mind always drifts back to the man.

Whether or not Dabi threatened the others or not, you don’t know. But now, the other nurses don’t seem to mention the two of you. In fact, they seem to tiptoe around the topic of the villain under your care. When you told your patient about this, he seemed to be rather happy to be flirting with you again. You don’t know why you told him about the nurse update. He shouldn’t be flirting with you at all; you basically encouraged it with the new knowledge!

Either way, time went on, and now, it was day six. His spleen is basically healed, and he shouldn’t be at risk with any of his other injuries. He was leaving tomorrow. Not just leaving; going to prison. The thought makes you feel uneasy. “What is my pretty nurse thinking about now?”

You blush, being caught, and quickly shake your head. “Nothing much.”

Dabi smiles, knowing by the tint in your cheeks what exactly you were thinking about. But he cuts you some slack and changes the subject. “So, Y/N..” You turn toward him with a lack of a nickname. He chuckles. “What is your quirk?”

Of course, he knew what it is, seeing you use it on him every morning and night, but he wants you to use it on him when he is supposedly awake. Plus, you may have happened to forget to do it this morning, so he is not feeling as fantastic and refreshed as usual. “Oh. Well, I can take away peoples pain.”

He smiles at you. “Yeah? How?”

“Through touch. It’s simple really, just a light touch and my patients feel completely fine. But of course this can be dangerous, because we need pain to show our body we need treatment. They still can die, but they wouldnt feel any pain and wouldnt know really other than the physical signs that they are dying,” You explain, your professionalism coming back to you. You don’t usually share the darker aspect of your quirk, afraid others would find it scary, but for some reason or another, you felt comfortable enough to share with him. 

Dabi nods, already have thought of ways your beautiful quirk could be deadly. That is another reason why he was drawn to you in the first place. Like a poisonous flower. Pretty but if needed to be, deadly. “Can you test it on me?”

This was it. This entire time you used your quirk on him when he was sleeping because he was a villain. Your quirk wasn’t necessary for a patient. It was only to help. He killed people. He should be suffering. But yet you couldn’t let the man wither in pain. So, you turned to helping him in his sleep. He shouldn’t know that you were making him feel better. He didn’t deserve it.

But now, everything was so strange. You wanted to show the man that you can help him; make him feel better. “Yeah. Alright.” He smiles at you, the smile that makes your heart do circles and causes you so much confusion. 

You close your eyes and press your hand to his forehead and activate your quirk. You can feel his gaze on you; you know that those crystal eyes are staring right through you. It is so much different than him being awake. 

He lets out a sigh. The pain disappears, and so do the uncomfortable pricks of the staples. Just like before, everything begins to feel alright. Your hand leaves his body once completed, and he wishes his hands weren’t bound so that he could grab them and keep them there. He hasn’t felt such gentle warmth in such a long time. But he can’t, so he just watches your eyes open, and your kind smile fills your face. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” He murmurs, and your smile falls.

You look toward the floor in thought. How things are going to be back to normal without the villain here? How boring it is compared to being with him. You lightly scold yourself for thinking that. You were grateful for the job. And how could you complain when he was going to prison? This seemed like a dream compared to that. “Yeah. I would say, I’ll see you around. But, you know…prison and everything.”

To your surprise, he laughs at this. His body shakes with a smile, and the metal clacks with the bedrest from the movement, and you can’t help it. You begin to laugh too. You laugh as you think about how crazy you were for falling for a villain and how much it is going to hurt when he is gone. How the hell did someone you met less than a week ago, make you feel like this?

But then, someone on your pager breaks the moment. It’s an emergency. You sigh and quickly stand alert while Dabi’s laughs die down. “I got to go. I’ll be back for your dinner, alright? Please don’t be too bad for the other nurses, I can’t help you all day. It’s an emergency.”

He looks at you with that smile again. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tonight, my pretty little nurse.”

You nod and linger at the doorway for a second before finally turning and helping the next patient.

You didn’t see him for dinner. The new patient was in a critical car crash and needed high amounts of your quirk for them to feel alright during the surgeries. They ended up making it.

It was 11 pm. Dabi has bound to be asleep. He should be, considering he is leaving tomorrow at 7 am. 

You begin to put away your tools and sigh. You wonder if he had a hissy fit when one of the other nurses tried feeding him. If he threatened them or tried to bite them. You can’t help but laugh lightly at the thought. He was so different than anyone you have ever met. You craved it.

But he was leaving. Tomorrow he is leaving to spend his life in prison. As he should, he is a villain that killed, and you are the fool and almost as equally bad civilian who fell for him. 

His room was a couple of feet ahead of you. The lights were off, as expected. He has to be asleep. But maybe not. Maybe he is too restless with the thoughts of his future to be asleep. If you were in his shoes, you would be.

One peak couldn’t hurt. Just to check if he was asleep and maybe for the last time, use your quirk on him. As long as nobody saw you, it will be alright. So, you tiptoe to his door, and open it. 

The nightlight, which all rooms have, is on, and you can see his figure on the bed. You can barely tell that his chest is rising and falling. He is asleep. Still, you walk over to him and place your hand on his forehead, like earlier and activate your quirk.

Once finished, you sigh and lightly trace your finger along the scars and the staples that cover his face. You wonder how painful that ought to be, and your heartstrings tug when you think about how you can’t help him anymore.

But then you have this thought. One only a villain should have. Why don’t you help him escape? You breathe as your eyes widen in the dark. 

You gulp. Nobody will know its you, right? As long as he escapes, it’s not like he would tell anyone, right? He would owe you that.

So, you made up your mind. You’re going to free the villain. Metal pliers is what you need, but if you’re at a hospital, how the hell would get those? So you think of the next option. Or maybe something that can unlock them?

You scan the room, barely able to make out anything in the dark. A paperclip. You have seen one of the Youtube tutorials on how to break out of them using one of them. So, you quickly unbend the metal and get to work.

It’s dark. You cant see, and it isn’t working. Ten minutes have gone by, and you are next to the sleeping figure and struggling. You begin to cry and, out of anger, shake the cuffs and Dabi’s arm with it.

A quiet sob is let out. “God Damnit!” You whisper yell when suddenly the hand you are right next to you grabs your face. You let out a startled yelp into his hand, and he, in response, lets out a quiet “shh.”

When you finally realize that it is just Dabi, you pull away from the hand and take deep breaths. “What is my darling nurse trying to do? You tryna save me, Doll?” The hoarse voice whispers into the dark.

Tears continue to stream down your eyes. “I tried! I can’t do it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Dabi. I wish-” You cover your mouth with another sob when you think about him spending the rest of his life in prison because of you.

“I know. I know. I was awake the entire time. You put up a bit of a fight, don’t ya, pretty? But hey, don’t worry. It’s alright.” You shake your head in the darkness, and Dabi smiles softly. “You know what I want you to do for me?”

“What?” You whimper quietly.

“Get in your car and drive home.” You begin to talk, but he cuts you off, “Don’t want you losing your job and sending you to prison for helping a nobody like me, hmm? I’ll be alright,” He reassures, which does absolutely nothing to you.

He uses the hand next to your face to brush away your tears. “B-But you’ll go to prison. For life.”

He hums in agreement. “Don’t worry your sweet little heart about it, alright? You trust me?” You shouldn’t, but you do. You trust in the villain you only met a week ago. You nod. “That’s it, good. Now get going, alright Doll? It’s late, and the roads can be dangerous.”

So, you stand as tears continue to fall down your face at your failure. You stuff the failed paperclip into your pocket. Then, you lean forward, and in the darkness, you find Dabi’s lips and press yours against them. 

He smiles at first and then kisses you back for a second before he pulls away. “Go. Now,” He commands. You nod, and scamper across the room, leaving the villain behind for the police to find tomorrow and take away forever.

The next morning is rough. You want to skip work so badly, but you don’t want the nurses to gossip. So, you sigh and drive yourself to the hospital.

When you arrive, you are surprised by the influx amount heroes and police inside the hospital. You turn to a doctor for questions, and she says, “You didn’t hear? Dabi escaped! Heroes everywhere are looking for him. I am so scared, what if he comes back and–” Her voice is drowned out after you heard the news.

He knew he was going to escape. He didn’t need your help at all. Now you looked like the crying mess who horribly failed to try to help him.

Without meaning to, you find yourself inside the room that heroes are crowded in front of. You drift over to the bed, with the missing handcuffs. Your hands trail along the now-empty pillow, and you can almost smell him.

Then, the nurse in you comes back, and almost like second nature, you begin to strip the bed. As the sheets come up, a paper falls down. 

You gulp, and your now trembling hands reach down and flip the small paper over. With messy handwriting and a burnt edge, you know this is Dabi’s work. Your heart thumps rapidly, and you can’t help but smile.

I’ll see you around, my pretty nurse.

[sluts4shigaraki]

BACK TO SCHOOL!

CW ♡ none, cute kissing scene

Pairing ♡ shigaraki/fem!reader

Word count ♡ 2,200

minors/ageless blogs DNI ♡ you will be blocked

A/N ♡ i’m so glad everyone’s enjoying it. the cute pining from tomura made my heart go doki doki tbh

DAY THREE

———————————————————————————

The next day, you felt like each class lasted forever. For whatever reason, you wanted to see him again. Test out your feelings one more time. This time, you were going to his dorm. Or, at least you wanted to. This might help you decide. You texted him, asking if you could come to his dorm for this session, giving the excuse that it was only fair. Tomura texted back almost instantly, you have no idea how his fingers moved so fast. That made you think things you didn’t want to.

T : sounds good

T : what time?

xxx : i get out of chem at 4:30, so 5?

T : see you then

The way he texted didn’t reflect his anxiety. Tomura could throw up. The only thing he could do to soothe himself was rock in his chair. How could you ask that? Of course, he wanted you around, but his room was disgusting. On top of that, Touya was here. He split his lip, blood trickling towards his chin. When he looked towards the other side of the dorm, Touya was sitting at the window smoking.

“Touya. I need something from you,” Tomura heard him laugh, of course. He was going to ask something inconvenient in return.

“Twenty bucks and a week of all my homework. Every class,” that sounds right. Every time he asked for anything, Tomura had to do something if he wanted the favor done. “So, what is it? Does it concern you know who?” Touya put out his cigarette and smirked at him, waggling his eyebrows.

“No. Well, sort of. They want to come here. I can clean up, but I need you to leave till I text you,” Tomura hoped he would agree. Maybe he’d get even closer to you. Touya would somehow fuck it up for him, or even steal you from him.

“Ohhh! Finally getting some pussy? Free of charge, dude, I’m proud of you. I can find somewhere to be, don’t worry,” Touya slinked out of the door, making faces at him the whole way out.

Tomura got what little cleaning supplies they kept, ripped the photo of you off of his computer and started throwing away his garbage. The dirty clothes got piled in the closet, along with all of his anime figures. He might have to get rid of them. It almost felt like cheating, even though he knew you weren’t dating. It took him a lot longer than he thought, but it looked almost as clean as when he moved in. He had just enough time to shower, which he did as quickly as possible. After yesterday, he made a note to buy some cologne. He picked out something less obnoxious than Touya’s, something more subtle and musky. It was closer to his natural scent, and he hoped that would do something for you. Just as he was finishing up, he heard a small, delicate knock at his dorm.

Your throat was dry, your feet were stuck to the floor. Every part of your body was scared and yet you were so excited. Tomura opened the door and he was so close, you had to crane your head up to look at his face. Neither of you could speak. Eventually he stepped back and invited you in.

“Sorry if it smells like pot. Or cigarettes. Touya doesn’t have manners,” you weren’t even concerned about that smell, because of him. Tomura smelled musky, a complicated smell that wasn’t too heavy. You resisted the urge to bury your head in his neck as he offered you a spot on his bed. You sat your bag down, and he sat across from you at his desk.

“It’s not that strong, but uh, Touya Todoroki is your roommate?” He knew this was going to happen. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. Next you were going to ask him for Touya’s number, or if he’s single. Of course, Touya was always technically single, but he hoped you weren’t the type to join his harem of people he cycled through.

“…Yeah. He is. Why?” Tomura sounded snippy, but he didn’t mean to. Not towards you at least. The very thought of that asshole made him on edge.

“God, I’m sorry. He’s such a prick. That guy doesn’t know when to stop or shut up,” a wave of relief washed over him. He’s never been happier to hear someone talk shit about Touya.

“Yeah, I know. Thankfully he’s always gone,” he pulled out a text book, and flipped to the spot he marked last time. “So, I figured we could run through some practice questions. Then we can see what you’re still having trouble with. You’re doing a really good job, though,” the praise lit a fire in your core, making you press your thighs together. You could not afford to be horny right now. Every time you got a question right without his help, you got praised. It wasn’t enough and you didn’t want to hear it this way. The praise would sound a lot better when you were under him. Eventually, you got through an entire page of questions, getting a lot more right than wrong.

“That wasn’t too bad, I kinda feel smart. Is this what you feel like, except all the time?” He laughed, setting the text book down on his desk. Bravery or stupidity motivated him and he sat next to you.

“No, not really. I’m not that smart, not about everything, I promise,” his knee was touching yours, it made your heart try to jump out of your chest. Words wanted to escape you, but you were going to choke on them. If you could do calculus, you could do this.

“Tomura…” your throat was closing up, so if you were gonna say it, you had to say it now. “I know we’re supposed to be just… tutor-er and tutor-ee, but I just, I feel something and I need to try something,” Tomura was spellbound, his eyes wide. This was exactly what he wanted but he didn’t know what to do when he got it. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“I think so, and I think I want to try it too. Just-,” his large hands cupped your face, grazing his thumb across your bottom lip. His lip darted out to wet his own, regretting he didn’t wear chapstick. Slowly, you met each other in the middle, and when your lips touched, it was electric. You tasted exactly like he expected. Sweet, enough to give him a tooth ache, but so incredibly hard to pull away from. He wasn’t sure if it was the kiss or if being this close did it, it but his whole body felt like it was going to explode. Tomura’s hands moved their way to your hips, tentatively, waiting for you to push him off and tell everyone how gross he was. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in. It started slow, delicate. Your lips were full and soft, he wanted to bite them but he held back, letting you lead. Breath failed him as you moved to sit on his lap. Luckily, his lust took a back seat, which shocked him. His lips were rough, but it was a turn on. Tomura wasn’t someone you’d give the time of day, or so you thought. No kiss has ever been this good for you. You knew he was probably scared, and it was probably his first kiss, but you wanted him to do more. The kiss got rougher, sloppier. Finally, Tomura got the nerve and nipped your bottom lip, and you moaned into his mouth. He reigned himself in and didn’t buck up into you, as much as he wanted to. Swiping his tongue across it, he tasted a tinge of blood. He felt a touch guilty, but you liked it. Your mouth opened, letting his tongue explore. Hands moved up your shirt, groping at your hips. His hands were cold, but it was like he set you on fire. When he pulled away to take a breath, you couldn’t stop staring. Tomura’s pale skin showed how deep his flush was.

“I think that answered my question,” you took a deep breath and put your hands on his chest. Tomura couldn’t stop staring at you. This was everything he wanted. How he managed to do it, he didn’t know, but he was ecstatic. “W-was that too much?”

“No, no, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that. You were just so pretty and so nice and I’m, well. I’m me,” Tomura’s face dropped, and he looked away from you.

“Tomura…” fingers pulled his jaw towards you, forcing his eyes to meet yours. “I’m gonna admit something, and I need you to promise me you’ll listen to the whole thing before you get upset,” you held out your pinkie finger. He hesitantly linked his own. Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to find the right words. “I did think you were weird, and gross. I believed everything I was told about you but you’re so much more complicated than that. In a good way. You make me feel weird, like I’m gonna vomit feathers.”

“You make me feel the same way. It’s like my heart want to escape my body. And, I am.. um, a little gross and weird. They’re not really wrong,” To him, he was. Tomura realized so many things he did were creepy. He was born looking odd, and the things he went through didn’t help. You apparently saw past that. Somehow, you saw what he couldn’t see in himself.

“Maybe you are. But that doesn’t change how I feel,” your hands had a tight grip on his hoodie, like any moment he could jump away and leave you behind. Tomura took a moment to speak, voice quivering.

“Can I take you out? Not now, but, maybe go somewhere? Together?” His body shook. Where did that come from? Not that he cares. He was proud of himself for once.

“That sounds good, I’d love that,” you hoped he wouldn’t make you leave. Now more than ever you wanted to stay. It was like some invisible string had tied you two together long before you met, and coming together now was meant to be.

“Well, d-do you wanna watch a movie or…?” His hand moved up to scratch his neck, force of habit and nervousness guiding it. You grabbed his wrist, trying to be gentle.

“Please, don’t do that. It’s made the skin irritated, since you do it a lot, right? I’ve got some lotion that’ll help, I’ll bring it tomorrow,” the way you cared for him made his chest hurt. His fear told him you’d probably end up leaving, but he couldn’t help but love any touch you gave him.

“It’s a nervous tick. It doesn’t calm me down at all, but, I’ve done it for so long,” Tomura fumbled with the remote to his TV, mounted on the wall with a massive collection of games sitting just below it. It made you wonder where he got this kind of money. He let you pick out a movie you liked and you gently guided him back, so you could lay on his chest. His arms went stiff, unsure of what to do with them till you grabbed his hands and put them around you. When you got settled, and burrowed yourself into him, he felt like he could relax. You wanted to touch him. Be close to him. He wasn’t revolting, or weird, or creepy to you. Not anymore. It was so strange, he thought he would have to work so hard to make this happen but it felt natural once he understood you wanted it too. After everything that he’s dealt with, maybe this was fate giving him a break. Tomura wasn’t sure if he believed in soul mates, but it felt like you were his.

Every time a movie would end, you’d take turns picking one out. Eventually, as the dark settled in, you fell asleep on his chest. Watching you sleep was comforting. Tomura ran his hands through your hair and let the back of his hands graze your cheeks. He pulled the blanket over the two of you and pulled you close to his chest. Soon he followed, falling asleep before midnight, for once. At some point in the night, Touya woke him up, smacking his forehead.

“Dude, nice,” he whispered, holding his hand up for a high five.

“Dude, fuck off. She’s sleeping. We didn’t even do anything and I’m fine with that, I’m not like you,” Touya rolled his eyes, grabbing a few things from his desk and opened the door.

“Well, either way. You gotta bitch in your bed, that’s close enough. Nice,” his praise meant nothing to Tomura.

“She’s not a bitch. Say that shit again. I will black your goddamn eye again,” normally, Tomura would’ve done it already, but he had you. You were on his chest, and he cared more about you than satisfying his desire to maim Touya. “Lock the fucking door on your way out.”

[proserpina-magnus]

hi I hope you’re feeling good and staying hydrated

I was wondering if you would feel comfortable with writing a poly!marauders x reader one shot where she struggles with eating, especially sweets - and the boys being supportive etc. idk I just feel guilty even for wanting to eat something or drink a hot cocoa.

sorry if that was all over the place and sorry if I made you uncomfortable that’s the last thing I wanted to do. really sorry, love you so much

hi! I'm glad you requested this, I really hope you find some sort of comfort in this. I want you to know that you deserve to eat and if you ever need someone to talk to, you can always message me privately. I would love to help however I can. 

- quick note before you read, I included Peter (young, of course), I tried to not make his character really talkative in case you only wanted the main three. 

The marauders when you struggle with eating 

word count: 2292

THIS CAN BE VERY TRIGGERING, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU READ THE WARNING BEFORE CONTINUING!! 

[ warning: fem reader, eating issues/(disorder?), HEAVY description of guilt revolving food, swearing, nicknames such as “love” and “pup”, slight kissing, hand holding, anxiety, multiple romantic partners ] 

You stared through a crack between your bed curtains, completely in the dark aside from a small glow of light. You can barely tell the time if you slide ever so slightly, making you aware of the bare feeling in your stomach.

8:49 am, was read in bright red digital lights. Your face doesn't shift to another expression other than complete mellowness. You denied to hear what your dorm mates were yelling at you. "[ name ]! One last chance to get out of bed or I'm leaving for breakfast without you!"

You yelled a small "whatever", fed up with the constant yelling. You wanted to be alone with this empty feeling, completely in the dark.

"I better see you in class!" She called before you heard the door close. Finally alone in the room, you lay completely still. When your stomach growled, you felt a deep guilt wash over you. The guilt of eating filled you whole, almost enough to fill your empty stomach.

If you went to the great hall, you would just shove your mouth full. It was better if you just stuck it out till lunch, usually, they didn't serve as many sweets than.

You waited 9 minutes, which felt like hours in the silence. You were just about to close your eyes when a loud knocking came at your door.

Your eyebrows raised, lifting your hand to pull back the curtain. You heard loud whispers, making it clear who your visitors were.

"Go away!" You shouted to the door, hearing their whispers fade for a moment before you saw the doorknob turn. You quickly pushed the curtain closed, covering you in complete darkness. You sank even deeper into your pillows, covering yourself with a heavy blanket as you only wished to be at peace for once.

"Love, you need to come down for breakfast," Remus's voice came first, you heard the curtains being pulled back to completely showcase your bed. You felt the bright light through the blanket, closing your eyes tight.

"I'm not hungry," you told them, somehow hoping they would just go away. But you felt a weight shift in the bed, one of them had sat down right beside your legs.

"You didn't eat that much during dinner yesterday, s'think you should eat," James's voice came, his voice was always comforting. It was deep like honey, another wave of guilt had filled you.

"I'm not hungry," you told them again, uncertainty in your answer this time as you felt a hand get placed on your knee.

"I don't want to eat," you continued, the blanket still pulled over your head as you stared into the darkness. It went quiet for a few moments, you could feel their emotions shift the room as you felt this nervous sweaty feeling.

"Just because you don't want to eat, doesn't mean you shouldn't," Remus said, the blanket slowly getting pulled away to expose your head. Your hair was clumsily sticking to your head, tangles meshed together as you stared ahead at nothing.

Your gaze first met Sirius, since he was the one sitting closest to you on the bed. James was leaning against your trunk, a sorrowful expression on his face when he realized your state. Remus was standing, hands over his chest as you shifting between feet, he looked like a wounded animal. Peter was sitting on top of your dorm mate's bed, fidgeting with his fingers as he gave you a small smile.

"You're allowed to eat love, you shouldn't feel guilty for keeping yourself healthy," Sirius smiled wide, hoping you as well would show him a smile. You only looked towards your bedside, reaching for the glass of water.

"It's easier said than done," you corrected him, finishing off your water. The past few weeks you had begun to drink more water, hoping it would give you some comfort for the food you hadn't eaten.

"Truth be told love, we wouldn't care what you'd look like," James replied, standing up straight before making his way over to your bed. He leaned down, kissing your cheek sweetly.

"Well, I care what I look like!" You told him, Remus tapping his foot anxiously as he watched you display your guilt.

James wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you up in a sitting position. You held a deep frown on your face, looking at Sirius as you finally wrapped your arms around James.

"You can care about how you look all you want, but if what your doing to accomplish that is harmful you can't be doing that," Remus told you, staring at you deeply.

"Not eating is harmful, you know that." Remus continued with his little speech, James still buried into your embrace. You wiggled your fingers through his thick hair, pulling him closer.

"I don't care," you told him, not breaking your stare with Remus. You felt like yelling and screaming at them to leave, but the feeling of warmth James was providing gave you a moment to calm down.

"We do," Sirius finished the little argument quick, shutting your response down as he leaned over to kiss your lips gently. You let him kiss you, barely giving any effort to kiss him back. He smiled when he pulled away, ruffling your hair.

"James c'mon, we're gonna go get food," Remus said, walking towards the door as James gave a long squeeze before departing from you. You reached your hands out to Sirius instead, wanting the warmth again.

Sirius happily excepted your request, sliding into James's place as his arms came to wrap around your blanket-covered body.

"We'll be quick, promise," James said while giving a beaming smile.

"Don't hurry," you said, still grumpy from the morning and the feeling of an empty stomach. Remus shot you a glare, making you back down quickly as you watched Peter come over to your bed.

"Do you want me to brush your hair?" Peter asked quietly, you nodded reaching over to the hairbrush as you passed it to him. Peter slipped behind you, section your hair briefly before sliding the brush down your tangled hair.  When you winced at a certain tug, Peter instantly pulled back slightly.

"Sorry love," he mumbled, quickly getting rid of the tangles. You leaned back into peters chest, Sirius shifting to rest against your chest.

"It's alright," you told him, giving a small smile as you felt Peter's fingers come to massage your scalp. Starting from the back of your skull to the front, your head instantly lolled back at the affection.

"That feels so nice," you gave a small praise, feeling comfortable as the door opened. James and Remus came in, plates filling their hands as almost every type of breakfast item filled it to the brim.

"I'm not gonna eat all that!" You told them, astonished from how much of a variety there was. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, a deeper hunger making itself known.

"It's alright, we'll finish what's left," James said, plopping the plates down on your bed. Sirius and Peter hadn't made any changes in their position, you looked down towards a sleeping Sirius.

"Sirius come on, [ names ] has to eat," Remus whispered into Sirius's ear, They quickly gave you space. When Peter shifted, you caught his arm in your hand.

"No, stay, I like it," you told him, relaxing back into his chest as his arms came to rest against your waist.

You got passed a buttered pastry by James, you stared at it for a minute. The lies making you feel guilt you didn't deserve, you debated whether you deserved such a sugary treat.

"It's alright love," Remus said first, coming to sit next to your side as he rested his hand against your cheek.

"It's really hard," you admitted to him, tears filling your eyes briefly before you looked away to stare at nothing. Remus brought your face back to his, giving a gentle smile.

"We know love, we're right here okay? You're safe and you deserve to eat," Remus told you, The rest of the guys agreeing. You sniffled slightly, nodding as you took the pastry from James.

"It's really awkward if your all just waiting for me," you told them, Sirius whipped his head around so fast you'd thought he'd get whip-lash.

Remus was telling Sirius off, distracting the boys with the small fight. You watched as Remus began to curse at Sirius, James coming to Sirius's defence. Remus was so easy to piss off, it was kind of entertaining.

You took a bite of the pastry, a warmth filling your mouth as you chewed slowly then swallowed, it felt good. Peter yelled from behind you, telling Sirius off for something he said that you didn't listen to.

You laughed at the bickering, finishing your pastry as you reached for another one without a second thought.

"Do you want one Peter?" You asked, turning your head slightly to catch his eyes.

"Sure, can you pass me the biscuits?" He asked, you gladly excepted. You gave him the biscuit, grabbing one for yourself as you finished off your food quickly.

The boys' bickering came to a haunt, Remus pointing to the bed as they all shut up and sat next to you again. You pointed towards the toast, Sirius passed it to you.

"Are you guys gonna eat?" You asked, taking a bite out of your buttered toast. It melted in your mouth, you had to resist the feeling of rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

"Of course," James said, picking up a biscuit as he took a bite. Sirius grabbed a waffle, eating it with his bare hands as Remus gave him a dirty look. Remus waited, eyes strictly on you for a while as he watched you finish your toast.

When you had reached for the fruit, Remus started to eat as well. James passed you a fork, all of the boys had big smiles on their faces.

"Does it taste good?" James asked, you nodded instantly as you swallowed some of the fruit. You started to feel full, but your eyes locked on one of your favourite treats.

"Have it, love," Sirius noticed, passing you the plate as you took it with shaky hands.

"It has too much sugar," you told him, pushing the plate back. Sirius didn't take it, James gave your knee a small pat.

"It's alright, you can still have it," James told you, his voice was firm and comforting as you believed him. You could have it, you deserved it.

"Okay," you whispered, bringing the pastry to your lips as you took a bite. The flavour exploded in your mouth, making you smile. You covered your mouth, chewing.

"Is that a smile I see?" Sirius asked, smiling himself as he leaned closer to you. You finished chewing the bite, swallowing it down quickly.

"Oh shush," you told him, pushing him away as you rested back onto Peter. You shuffled your feet, laying them over James's legs as you continued to chew.

After the last bite, you felt completely filled. The guilt had weighed in quickly, making you feel like throwing up as you grabbing onto Remus's hand.

"You alright, love?" He asked you, all eyes on you as you became more nervous.

"Did I eat too much?" You asked, squeezing his fingers tightly between your own. You felt your nerves bundle up, rolling your neck to try and ease the tension.

"No, of course not. If your full then you ate just enough," Remus comforted, bringing your hand to his lips. His words helped you settle down, you reached for your water again. You took a sip before breaking out of Peter's embrace, crawling slightly towards James.

"Hello," James greeted, smiling as he let you push your lips against his. His fingers wrapped in your hair, bringing you closer as you kissed him deeper. You pulled away breathless, your face flushed as you hide against his shoulder.

"We're so proud of you, you've done so well pup. You don't know how much it means to us that your eating," Sirius's voice came beside you, his hand coming to rest onto your lower back. You continued to hide your face against James's chest, letting your eyes close.

"Thank you," you whispered, the guilt had washed away for the moment. You felt completely safe, you deserved this moment.

"It's our pleasure," Sirius said, kissing your head as he started to clean up the plates. The rest of the boys finished what was left quickly like they said they would.

You pulled back, getting off the bed to get dressed for the day. Sirius and James helped you pick out your outfit, landing on a plaid skirt and one of James's oversized jumpers. Peter did your hair, putting in colourful clips that matched your skirt.

"Alright, I'm all ready," you told them after leaving the bathroom, smiling as you played with your hair.

They smiled at you, Remus giving you his hand as you instantly locked your fingers with his. Before they opened the door; they stopped short.

"We know this is difficult for you, but we're so proud of you," Remus said, you gave a small nod at the words. Tears almost falling from your eyes as you brought Remus down into a hug.

You hugged Sirius next, Peter second because he was the closest, Than James. James mumbled his applause into your ear, making you squeeze him tight.  You were almost sobbing at this point, wiping your eyes as your mascara slightly smudged.

"Look what you did," you told them, chuckling as you wiped up quickly. Your eyes puffy and red, but you felt loved so you couldn't care.

[bisexual-bitch-blogs]

hi this is my first time sending a request like this, would it be ok to ask for a threesome with two mean doms zhongli and diluc, with maybe overstimulation, spanking, rough sex, choking, bondage, orgasm denial, degrading,,,, 👉👈 thank u so much for ur service 🙏

"Bullies"

Dom Diluc/Zhongli X Sub Fem Reader

That's a lot of kinks. But I'm not complaining. Um I did have not have any pics of Diluc and Zhongli together so I did a simple 5 sec editing and here ya go! Sorry this took so long. Thank you for reading!

POV You bought a new friend home. It's a harmless hydro slime and your boyfriends dont approve of it. You get pouty and they punish you

Includes: Overstimulation, Spanking, Rough sex, Choking, Bondage, Orgasm denial, degrading, Dacryphilia, dumbification

❤💛--------------------------------------💛❤

You were living every girl's dream. Dating Diluc, the stoic bartender and Zhongli, the walking history of Liyue book.

How did you attract them? Simple, you were a cute crybaby working as an adventurer. Not a surprise when their sadistic personas screamed to make you cry even harder.

Telling you right here and now. They're gentlemen in the streets but assholes in the sheets. You loved them with all your heart but they're so mean in bed. You can't even tell them to stop because they know you actually liked it.

Anyways, enough about them. After finishing your last commission, you bought a small blue slime home because it was so cute. Not only that. It was harmless seeing as it kept following you around like a dog. Carrying the bundle of joy in your arms, you entered Dawn Winery Manor, the workers stared in astonishment watching the hydro being nestled between your breast, purring.

Simultaneously, your lovers came out from wherever they were and greeted you.

"Welcome home, darling/dear-"

They were cut off, seeing the suppose hostile mob snoozing away in your embrace. You greeted them back.

"I'm home, Luc! Li!"

Zhongli's porcelain face scrunched up in disgust seeing the slimy creature. Why the hell did you bring it into their sleeping quarters? Is that thing just made a smug face at him?? Nah hes just delusional cuz of jealously and disgust or smth

Diluc doesn't hate slimes like the Geo Archon does but not does he like them either. Rather the crimson haired thought of them as nuisances to his business.

You asked.

"I found this slime following me and thought it was harmless. Why not take it home? Can we keep it please~?"

The males looked at each and nodded before turning back to look at you. They said.

"No."

You were taken back, baffled.

"What? Why??!"

The red haired male huffed, explaining.

"I probably would not mind, perhaps let you put it in a tank and take care of it however you know how Zhongli has a very strong hate for anything slimy."

You pouted.

"Then it doesn't need to be near Li and it'll be fine!"

You were determine to have this small slime be your companion during adventuring time. Forget seelies. Forget your boyfriends disapproval. Your going to keep it in the guest room and sleep with the squishy blue ball there.

Just as you were about to run away. Diluc grabbed you by the waist, carrying you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, making you drop your little companion. It bounces away, squeaking. You called out, hitting the red head's lower back, weakly with your fists.

"Hey! What was that for?!"

! SMACK !

Flinching, a swift slap was delivered to your bum and you didn't know who did it. Zhongli said.

"After we said no. You still take it in? Bad girl. I believe punishment must be ordered."

You blabbered in disbelief.

Suddenly, you were tossed onto the bed, sinking into the soft sheets of comfort, your clothes were ripped off by 2 pairs of greedy hands.

Perhaps you froze in shock when they toss away your scattered remains of clothing but they're already naked, their little friends exposed yet not awakened.

Zhongli hand gripped around your throat tightly, cutting off your air way. Meanwhile, your pyro lover ran his hot wet tongue over your folds, dampening your entrance. Tears gather at the corner of your eyes, feeling hazy at the lack of air yet hot. When Zhongli took away his coarse hand away from your throat, you desperately gasped for air. Without time to rest, the geo user pressed down on your hardened buds with his thumbs. You gave a breathy moan, stilling trying to catch the air you desperately needed in your lungs.

Diluc lapped at the slick you produced from your core, his nose rubbed against your clit making you shake every 5 seconds. Taking this as a distraction. The ravenette clipped your hard buds with some sort of unique silver nipple clamps.

It stung and Zhongli is not helping by tugging on them. You complained.

"I-It hurts!"

Nothing new. They whispered comforting words but you couldn't hear them cause of the erratic beating of your heart through your ears.

Something hot entered your entrance so you looked down and saw it was Diluc's digits thrusting in and out, occasionally rubbing a weird spot that made you moan out loud. Any attempts to close your legs, resulted in your smooth legs bended over your head and harsh spankings. Diluc reprimanded.

"Bad slut."

! SMACK !

! SMACK !

! SMACK !

Losing counts of how many time the pyro user landed a hit on each of your ass cheeks. Tears ran down your face like a waterfall, feeling the burn on your poor bottom. The nerve when Diluc rubbed them, hoping to soothe the pain. Well it ain't working. Bet it's all red now but it'll be bruised tomorrow.

Out of habit you bound your thighs together. However, your archon lover decided to tie your ankles and wrist to the corners of the bed.

Your head was turned to the side facing a big angry weeping member pressing against your lips.

"Open your mouth and take it all in like the pretty whore you are. You wanted us to punish you in the first place. That's why you disobeyed."

You gaped, screaming in your mind.

'ILLOGICAL! WE DID THIS JUST YESTERDAY."

Zhongli took the opportunity of your slightly opened mouth and slammed his member down your throat. You gagged, quickly trying to adjust to the large accompany in your mouth.

Man, they really manhandling you today. The ruby eyed male also plunges his length into your entrance, slowly pulling it out to the tip then pushing the rest in. You mewled in etascy. In sync, they fucked you at a rough pace. Just as you were about to release, they slowed down. You softly whine, tugging your hands, weakly at the restraints.

"Would you look at that. Our pretty whore wants to cum. Does she deserve it, mister Diluc?"

With a expression of annoyance, the red head rejected.

"No."

They continued the torture; fucking you at a relentless pace and when your about to reach your high, they slow down before repeating the process.

You cried, miserably. Their teasing was just endless. Letting them do whatever to your body, you felt your eyes roll up. The pyro user, chuckles.

"How cute. We fucked her brains out. She took her punishment so well. She deserves a reward, no?"

Zhongli takes off the toys pinching your swelling nipples, agreeing with the other male.

"Yes, even a bitch needs to cum at some point. Let her cum all she wants."

You didn't register the fact they pulled out their lengths, already taking off the restraints when they turn you over onto your stomach, doggy style. Their members slid back into you no problem. It was like your holes was made for them or they fucked you so much, your body's insides molded to their dick shape.

You moaned over and over again, cumming for who knows how many times. You were conscious however your mind was somewhere else.

Since they took away your walking privileges for the next 2 weeks, you get to keep the slime. Haha in your face geo daddy.

You named the small of hydro element, Puppy cause why not?

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

Again sorry for the wait! I'm trying to manage my schedule to scoot in a writing here and there since I also have Wattpad to deal with.

This one took a while but I am very excited for the next nsfw/crack request coming up and hope to achieve big brain for it.

[skzsauce01]

King of Hearts

Synopsis: The king of hearts has a very special surprise planned for his queen. Heavy inspiration from Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass.

Warning: murder

Word Count: 4.5k

Pairing: fem!reader x king!Chan

The throne room looks best at night when the moonlight spills through the giant glass windows and illuminates the wall of weapons behind the throne. It is an odd array of mostly clubs, maces, and swords, but dead center in the wall and above the plush red velvet seat of the king is a heavy double-bladed axe. Crafted and honed to be as sharp as a diamond knife, it is the perfect tool for executions.

Tomorrow evening it’s gleaming, polished surface will splattered with the blood of a queen.

The king allows himself to admire his collection of weaponry for another minute before returning to his bedchambers where his wife is surely missing his warm presence.

“Good morning, sweet tart,” your husband purrs into your ear. “It’s a special day today.”

You have been awake for the past hour, pretending to be fast asleep when you were actually sneaking glances of Chan in various states of undress. However, you keep your eyes closed and your breathing steady, knowing that he will start planting kisses down your jaw if you’re not awake soon.

“I know you’re not really sleeping,” he continues. He taps the corner of your mouth, and you try not to smile. “I saw you looking earlier.”

You give up the charade and sit up. “Can you blame me?” you grin. “You always dress so nicely for court trials. How many are on the agenda today?”

“Four,” he replies, pulling you closer to him. You playfully squirm in his embrace, and he placates you with exactly four kisses on the crown of your head. “Will you be attending?”

You sink into him and wish you could stay there all day. Just the thought of your own schedule tires you. “I have to ‘entertain’ my sister.”

Chan’s throaty chuckle rumbles against your cheek. “Just until dinnertime, sweet tart. Then you’ll be free.”

“I know. Thank goodness she’ll be busy after dinner.”

Reluctantly you let go of your husband and stumble out of bed. Your dreadful sister will nag at you in that awful harpy-esque way of hers if you’re even a second late to breakfast. Chan makes a feeble attempt to grab your wrist before following you to the vanity.

“Is the king not needed in court yet?” you tease as you brush out the tangles in your hair.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and presses his cheek against yours. “I’m missing something.”

It’s a silly tradition from your courting days: a kiss for each departure. He insisted on keeping it even when the two of you married, and you happily obliged. You turn to peck him on the cheek, but he twists his head so that your lips land onto his. He laughs at your noise of surprise and kisses you like he’s never going to see you again. It has been a while since Chan has been this intimate with you, and you eagerly return his affections.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” you remark when he finally pulls away. You feel warm all over, but Chan is as composed as ever.

He smiles, full dimples showing. “It’s a special day today.”

“Goodbye, darling,” you say as you watch him leave the room through the vanity mirror.

He gives you one last glance before disappearing through the door. You note that he didn’t bother to fix his mussed up hair and giggle when you picture how he’ll look with the crown on his head.

It’s a good start to a bad day.

“You’re late,” is what your older sister greets you with.

You sit across from her at the dining table and do your best not to scowl. You wonder how the servants feel about her. There are none in the room, so in typical fashion, she must have dismissed them for one negligible reason or another. “Good morning to you too, Nari.”

“What are you wearing? Does this kingdom only wear red and black?” she continues. She picks up her cup of tea and stares at you above the lip, waiting for you to explain. Even with a team of royal advisors and a sister married to a foreign king, she still refuses to learn anything about kingdoms other than her own.

You sigh and try to remember Chan’s words. You only have to suffer through this until dinner and then your sister will finally be gone. “It’s a court day, so everyone wears red and black. It’s custom.”

“You and your frivolous trials,” she scoffs. “What’s the point when they’re all guilty anyway? So, are you going to ask about my trip? Where are your manners, little sister?”

You’re certain she means well when she nags you, but it doesn’t make it any less irritating. “How is everything at home?” you ask instead, knowing that will produce a shorter answer.

“Fine. Felix is ruling in my stead, but most of my advisors are with him, so he’ll have no trouble with it.” Nari picks up a scone topped with confectioner’s sugar and eyes it curiously before taking a bite. “Your sweets are quite good.”

You primly nod and pour yourself a cup of tea. Breakfast is mostly silent, and you’re glad that you nor your sister care to make conversation. You can barely stand her when she’s in a tolerable mood, and it seems like she’s nothing of the sort today. Her usual haughty disposition is only tempered by her breakfast of sweets. Nari seems to be enjoying the food with less complaints than usual, and you feel just a bit smug.

When the servants come to clear away the plates, you hollowly suggest to show Nari the rose gardens. She cheerfully agrees and links arms with you as you lead her outside.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling to have her so close to you after you haven’t seen her in a year. It’s even odder when you realize that she hasn’t linked arms with you since you were five and she eight. You mindlessly point out a few varieties of flowers on the way to the garden and wonder why your normally cold sister has turned warm.

“Is everything alright?” you ask once you have led her to the middle of the garden. The sweet scent of the roses always relaxes you, and hopefully they will do the same for Nari. “You’re acting strange all of a sudden.”

She lets you go and stands in front of you. “Your husband. I don’t like him.”

“We courted for two years,” you remind her, frowning at the memory of her telling you the same thing when Chan first arrived at your home. “And we’re married now. I know you don’t like him, but there’s nothing you can do now.”

She shakes her head. “Do you know what the village girls call him? I stopped in town yesterday, and all the girls could talk about was Chan, the King of Hearts! They went on and on about his ‘perfect face’ and ‘perfect body.’ Think about what he’s done to get such a name!”

“Be an eligible, handsome future king?” You sigh and grab a nearby rose to stick your nose in. You will not give her the satisfaction of setting you off. “Nari,” you begin, your terse voice muffled by the petals, “it’s natural that you want to protect me, but if you’re only here to criticize Chan, then I’m not sure what to do with you during your stay.”

“I saw him stare at me when I arrived last night,” she protests. “Like an animal, unabashed.”

You almost snort at her claim. If anything, Chan dislikes Nari more than you do due to her constant nitpicks of him during the courting years. The incessant “You will never be good enough for her” and “Stay away from my siblings” surprisingly did not deter him from proposing to you.

“I’m sure it was disdain, not lust,” you dryly reply.

“I feel like I’m being watched in this place,” she continues, ignoring your remark. “I don’t trust him or anyone here.”

No wonder why she suddenly put on a facade the moment the servants stepped in the dining room.

“What do you think of the garden?” you ask to change the subject. You cannot fight with her on court day and with so many guests in the castle. “These are our prized roses. Chan said it took the gardeners and florists years to breed them.”

Nari glances at the flower you hold and purses her lips. “It looks like someone painted a white rose red. There’s still spots of white on them. You’re certain they were bred and not painted?”

You swallow the retort in your throat and reach out for another rose to inhale. Nari is just being Nari.

“How about a game of croquet?” You take her elbow and start leading her to the croquet court without waiting for a response. “I think you’ll enjoy it. I’ll teach you how to play.”

Nari roughly snatches her arm back, and her eyes flash with an unfamiliar fire. “You’re not taking any of this seriously, little sister. All the village tarts have likely been with him already, so you mean nothing to him! Isn’t that his cute, little pet name for you too? ‘Sweet tart?’ You’re pathetic.”

For all Nari has said in the past, she has never directly insulted you like this. The fragile restraint you have on your emotions snaps.

“You just hate Chan because he didn’t want to marry you!” you shout, pointing an accusing finger at her. “You’re just bitter that he chose me instead of you! And do you know why he and no one else likes you? Because you’re a cold, angry, bitter hag that nitpicks everything! And you think you’re such a perfect ruler, but the truth is that your advisors hate you and like Felix better! I bet the entire kingdom is happier without you!”

It comes out in one long breath, and you’re red in the face from screaming years of pent up feelings at your sister. It feels good to let it all out. With a sick sense of delight, you watch as Nari turns scarlet and as her eyes gloss over with tears.

“I’m going back to my chambers,” she frostily says.

She pushes past you, and you don’t try to follow her. Even though it’s a longer way back to the castle, you take the opposite path and head to the courtroom.

At least someone will be happy to see you.

You appear placid when you enter the courtroom, which is just the throne room with extra chairs for the jury and audience. Everyone stares at you as you walk to the empty seat reserved for you at king’s side.

“Hello, darling,” you whisper to him as you fluff out your skirts. “My sister decided to retire early to her room.”

He nods in reply and turns back to the defendant. “Proceed.”

Despite his reserved facade, he places one hand on top of yours and starts fiddling with your fingers to try and make you burst out into laughter. It’s a game you and him play during court days, and he has won the past three rounds. However, by the time the defendant is found guilty, neither of you have broken each other.

Chan calls to break for afternoon tea, but you and him linger in the empty room.

He helps you up from your seat and pulls you into an embrace in one fluid motion. “Court is much more fun with you,” he sighs into your hair. “Have I mentioned how stunning you look in red?”

“Only every time I wear it.” You reach up and brush a stray curl from his temple. “Might I say, you look even more handsome than when I saw you this morning.”

“It must be all the guilty verdicts. Are you going to watch the executions in the evening?”

“I always do.” Your eyes fall onto the double-bladed axe above the throne. “It’s my favorite part of court day.”

“I think you’ll enjoy today’s very much.” He slips his arm from your waist to your hands and begins leading you to the dining hall. “I heard the cook made jam tarts for tea today. Your favorite.”

You lean into him and smile at his pleased expression. “You requested them, didn’t you? She hasn’t made them in ages!”

“Sweet tarts for my sweet tart,” he playfully says, kissing your fingertips and making you giggle. “I thought they would make afternoon tea with your sister less awful.”

The mere mention of Nari turns your mood sour. “I hope she skips tea.”

“Did you two quarrel?”

“When do we not?”

Two servants open the door to the dining hall, and to your vast disappointment, you spot Nari seated at an empty table by a window, a cup of tea in hand. Her head is turned, and you can’t see her face, but she is the only person in the room not wearing red and black.

You hesitate by the door, and Chan nudges you toward her. “Your sister’s here.”

“Don’t you hate Nari?” you try. “Please don’t make me talk to her.”

“I do, but politics. She’s my sister-in-law” — he doesn’t even bother to hide the disgust in his voice  — “and the queen of a foreign kingdom. You hate her less than I do.”

The last part is debatable. “I get a front seat at the executions tonight,” you negotiate. “And jam tarts for tea for the rest of the week.”

Chan gratefully kisses your cheek and murmurs into your ear, “You can request jam tarts from the cook whenever you like, you know. I’ll see you after.”

You should have demanded more, like handling executions instead of getting a front row seat to them. He would have never agreed to that.

While he leaves to chat with some aristocrats about the past trials, you stiffly walk towards your sister. You take the empty chair in front of her and curtly say a greeting. She says nothing and instead pours you a cup of tea. For a minute, the two of you choose to sip your drinks and nibble on the quiches and tarts.

“Have you come to apologize?” Nari says in a strange brittle way. She finally looks up from the table, and you see that her eyes are ringed with red.

You want to say no because you haven’t, but a small part of you feels guilty for making her cry. As far as you remember, Nari stopped crying when she was eight.

However, you’re still upset. “No because you’ve never apologized to me. For saying all those things about me and for being rude to Chan all the time.”

“I meant all those things.”

“So did I.”

Another silence. You sneak glances at her, and judging by the fact that she’s still chewing on the same mini quiche from two minutes ago, she’s barely holding it together.

“Here,” you abruptly say, placing a raspberry jam tart on her plate. “I know you like sweets better.”

You can see her debating whether she should take your peace offering or not. Her jaw is set as she looks down at it, but her fingers twitch like she wants to grab it and taste it.

“It’s good, I promise.”

She takes a cautious bite of it and slowly reaches for another from the tower of treats. In the meantime, you refill your cups with more tea and smirk when you see the content expression Nari has when she finishes the tart. Across the room, Chan gives you an encouraging smile at your efforts.

“How’s Felix?” you ask. Your little brother is usually a safe topic. “He’s going to be old enough to be king soon, isn’t he?”

“According to you, he’ll make a much better ruler than me,” she sniffs.  “But I’m the eldest, so I was always going to be queen. Unlike whatever nonsensical laws you have here.”

She says ‘here’ like she said ‘pathetic’ earlier. Nari says something about Felix and how his studies are going, but you’re too concerned with keeping your anger in check to hear it.

“You can never leave anything alone, can you?” you snap in the midst of her spiel. You wrap all of the tarts — yes, every single one from the tea tower, much to your sister’s dismay — in a bundle of napkins and stand up. “I’ll see you at dinner, Nari.”

You hear her huff a reply about how immature you’re being, but you don’t care. On your way back to the courtroom, someone grabs your wrist and spins you toward them.

You already know it’s Chan. “I tried but—”

“Are you really going to take all those tarts and share none with me?”

“Oh?” You hold out the napkins and let him pick between raspberry jam and lemon curd. “You’re not here to come tell me to make nice with my sister?”

“I saw it wasn’t going well, so I called for court to resume in ten minutes,” he says, licking the leftover jam from his fingers. He smiles reassuringly at you. “Don’t lose your pretty head over her. She’s…”

“Annoying? Rude? Deserving of none of our kindness?”

He stifles a laugh at your tone and starts leading to the courtroom. “Difficult,” is what he finally settles upon, but you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “She won’t be a problem for you much longer though.”

“I can hardly wait until tomorrow,” you sigh. “Goodbye, dreadful Nari.”

All the pastries are finished by the time you and Chan take your designated seats. No one else has arrived yet, so Chan takes off his crown and rests his head on your shoulders. He contently sighs and nestles his face into the crook of your neck.

“I think you’ll like this trial,” he mumbles, his tickly breath making you giggle. “It’s why jam tarts have been a scarcity for the past two weeks.”

“Is the cook on the stand?” you joke. The double doors to the throne room start to open, and you raise your shoulder. “Darling.”

Within seconds, King Bang Chan is back and your adoring husband shelved away. More people fill the empty seats in the room, and you watch the entrance carefully to ensure your sister hasn’t decided to show up and make your day worse. It’s unlikely since she is bound to be upset, but you can never be too sure. As expected though, she never arrives, and you sigh in relief. When the trial begins, Chan’s hand is over yours, fiddling with your fingers again. You gladly continue the game as the defendant enters in chains, flocked by two guards.

However, no one wins. The trial is quickly over as the knave is soon found guilty of stealing fruit preserves from the royal kitchen. After the courtroom clears out and you and Chan exchange departing kisses, you retire to your chambers to get dressed for dinner while he goes off elsewhere to attend to more kingly duties.

You don’t see him again until you have finished your bath and the maids are pinning up your hair. Through the vanity mirror, you watch as he enters the bedchambers with his crown missing, hair mussed, and the top of his shirt unbuttoned.

“Hello, darling,” you call out, noticing his satisfied smile. “I see you enjoyed whatever it was that you were doing earlier.”

He gestures for the maids to leave, and they do so in a hurry. He walks over to you and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing his lips to your neck at the same time. Every part of you is hyper aware of his proximity when he mumbles, “I did.”

He protests when you lean away and weakly cite your delicate half-done updo. Despite his feelings, he gives you a kiss on your temple and goes to take his bath; dinner will be starting in an hour.

Unsure of what to make of Chan’s reply, you call the maids back in and sit like a statue while they finish your hair. Nari is wrong, you tell yourself. She doesn’t know a single thing about your husband.

Her accusations of him, however, swirl around in your head, and they are all you can think about when there are no more hair tugging and pin stabbings. When Chan emerges from his bath, whistling the cheery execution song, he grins at you and says in tune, “Have I mentioned you look beautiful in red?”

A different kind of chill washes over you, but you still reply back with a stiff smile. “Only every time I wear it.”

He walks over to you and wraps one arm around your shoulders. The scent of soap and cologne that you typically find so comforting is suddenly pungent and overpowering. You can see that his other arm is hidden behind his back, and you can’t look anywhere else.

“Here,” he says. He tucks a red-and-white rose behind your hair, and you jump a bit when you feel the dampness of the petals against your skin. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice these in the bath. They’re your favorite.”

“It’s been a long day,” you tell him. You abruptly stand up and nod to the door. “Should we get to dinner?”

He loops his arm around your waist and leads you to the dining hall. “Were those tarts not filling enough?” he teases. “Or are you just excited for the executions after?”

“I suppose both.”

The finale of court day is the last thing on your mind.

Dinner passes by in a blur. For the first time of the day, you actively look around for Nari and are shocked and disappointed when she doesn’t show up. Maybe you should have been kinder. You airily laugh at the jokes the aristocrats make and make a few of your own about the trials, but your mind and eyes go back to Chan. He sits at the head of the table and merrily cheers with others over another successful court day. You catch him gazing lovingly at you occasionally, and you don’t know what to think anymore.

Soon, the crowd gathers to the execution site outside where servants have set up chairs and lit lanterns. As promised, Chan lets you have the best seat in the house. You sit quietly while he changes into his executioner’s robes and while he is presented with his double-bladed axe.

The guards bring the criminals from the prison, their heavy chains clanging against one another. Four guilty verdicts, four heads to roll. You normally would be thrilled by this prospect, but tonight’s jubilation has been dulled. Nevertheless, you clap after each punishment and admire how clean the cuts are. The wooden chopping block soon drips with blood, and a metallic tang fills the air.

A servant comes to dispose of all the remains, and most of the audience turns to leave, but Chan still lingers around.

“There’s still one more execution left,” he announces. He wipes the blade clean and nods at the guards. “A very special one I planned in surprise for my wife.”

You hear the gasps before you can even process his words. You turn to find out what the fuss is about, and your eyes grow wide when you spot a familiar lily-white dress through the crowd.

“Darling,” you shakily ask, “what is this?”

Chan grins widely at you and readjusts the axe in his grip. “You’re going to be the queen of two kingdoms, sweet tart.”

The guards force your sister to stop in front of you, and Chan rips off the gag in front of her mouth. Nari doesn’t say a word, but the look in her eye says it all: “I told you so.”

“What is this?” you repeat. You wring your hands in the folds of your skirts and try to figure out what exactly is happening.

Your sister is about to be executed for unknown reasons, your husband seems rather nonchalant about the whole situation, and you suppose you are as well. With the chains manacled around her wrists and the guards standing behind her, Nari feels like just another criminal to be punished.

“For starters, you and I don’t like her,” Chan says, walking closer. He glances over at Nari. “She’s a terrible queen, and from what I’ve been told by my advisors, she’s too busy with pretending to be a queen to actually rule.”

“He’s a liar!” Nari spits out, flushing bright red at the allegation. “Don’t you forget that he has mistresses all over town and that you’re just another pretty plaything to him!”

The audience, having heard her accusations, gasps again, and a wave of whispers rolls through the crowd. You glance over at Chan to see his reaction.

He looks terrifying.

His usual cool composure is streaked with anger so hot, you can almost feel it radiating off of him. He thickly swallows, and his hand bearing the bloodstained axe starts to shake. His breathing turns ragged when he finally looks at Nari.

“You think that I would have an affair? You think I would be disloyal to her?” The next sentence comes out in a cold, calm breath. “I’ll execute you on that charge alone.”

“Wait!” you shout at Chan before he can drag her to the execution block. More quietly, you say, “Explain yourself. When you came into the room.”

His face softens as he realizes the implications of his earlier appearance. He cups your face with his free hand. “I was getting your sister taken to the prison. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t go on her own accord, so there was a bit of a scuffle. The guards took care of her later though. I could never be disloyal to you, Y/N.”

No pet names, no teasing. He’s dead serious.

You switch back to your sister, who is still clinging firm to her beliefs. Look at her steadfast expression! “You’re the liar,” you sardonically laugh. “You almost made me believe your lies! You… you almost turned me against my husband! And what for? Your own jealousy?”

“To protect you! And I was right too!” She sharply nods at the crowd of aristocrats. “Look at this madness! Court days and execution parties?”

“Like you don’t order the deaths of criminals yourself!” You motion for the guards to take her to the execution block. You hate her so much right now, and you can barely see past the haze of red overtaking your vision. “Goodbye, Nari.”

“So you’re just going to let him kill me?” she yells. She tries to grab your shoulders at the last second, but the guards pull her back. “He’s an awful man, killing me for such a petty reason! And you’re pathetic for standing by him!”

Pathetic.

It echoes in your ears, and you want to snatch the axe out of Chan’s hands and do it yourself. However, you instead bite out, “Shut up. It’s the least you can do to apologize to me.”

Chan cleans the blade with the cloth from Nari’s gag, and you watch as the white fabric gets painted with scarlet like your sister’s stupid notion about the roses. He raises the axe over her head, and the metal flashes in the lantern light.

You look your sister in the eye. “Off with your head.”

And off her head goes.

~ ad.gray

[rheawritessometimes]

In Bloom

{ Xiao x GN!Gardener!Reader }

{ Summary } Looking for flowers is more dangerous than it seems.

{ Warnings } Violence, Injury, Mention of Death, Not Even Proofread.

{ Notes } Reader runs on dumb luck and also is kind of like an ecologist or something. Reader is a bit of an airhead. This is probably the most serious fic I've written, with no jokes or additions stricken out. But yeah I just typed this out and didn't even read it over, so if it's bad... Just know this is just a little something while I work on longer garbage. Masterlist

{ Word Count } 2,112

Appealing to the Vigilant Yaksha was an easy, one could even say effortless, thing for you. You hadn't taken the almond tofu route as others before you had, instead, you left him some Qingxin flowers. These flowers did not come from the peaks of Huaguong Stone Forest nor the Mingyun Village, rather they were among the finest specimens you had grown in your garden. The translucent white petals were soft like velvet and entirely free from blemish.

Your small gift to the adeptus wasn't exactly intentional. In truth, you had left the flowers on the balcony of Wangshu Inn entirely by accident and when you returned to retrieve them they were nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a pale man with dark hair leaning over the balcony. When you halted your approach, he turned his head towards you, indicating he had heard your footsteps.

Striking golden eyes seemed to gaze straight through you, sending a chill down your spine. His expression was entirely neutral, you couldn't get even a hint as to what he was thinking. Nothing about his outward appearance screamed danger, but the ominous aura you sensed made you take a step back.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to disturb you," you squeaked out, sounding a lot less confident than you had intended. You take a step backward, but couldn't bring yourself to tear your eyes from him.

"Don't apologize. You're welcome to stay," he replied after a few beats of silence, his tone sounding strained for a reason you couldn't discern.

"Um, okay, thank you," you replied politely, feeling it would be too awkward to leave now. It felt to you as though you were now trapped here for a little while out of social obligation. You stepped out towards the railing, deciding to at least enjoy the view if you had to stay.

The man didn't look at you, but you couldn't help but take in his appearance. He was objectively good-looking with bright amber eyes, dark hair with teal highlights, and his stoic expression. His clothing wasn't outlandish, but it's not the type you would commonly see on the streets of Liyue.

It took a while for the dark mask resting against the man's hip to catch your attention, but once it did you felt like a fool. It was not common knowledge, however, the fact an adeptus resided at the Wangshu Inn was not exactly a secret. One which you were privy to. The mask was the most obvious indication of his status as an adeptus. Not just any adeptus, not that any of them were anything to look down upon, but one of the Yakshas. The last of the five Yakshas.

"Alatus," the name escapes your lips as a whisper before you can think to stop it. Immediately your eyes widen, but before you could issue an apology the man just sighs softly. It doesn't sound particularly angered, but rather weary.

"Xiao. My name is Xiao," he says without turning to look at you. That's all he says before vanishing in a cloud of black mist and falling feathers of anemo energy. The mist and feathers are both quick to dissipate, leaving you standing with your mouth hanging open.

After that encounter, it had become a regular occurrence, at least once weekly, for you to pick one of the finest flowers from your garden and bring it to Wangshu Inn to leave on the balcony, or give directly to Xiao should he show himself. Most often you brought him a Qingxin, but occasionally you would substitute other flowers as not to end up plucking every Qingxin you had grown. You never picked the very best flower, either. Even for an adeptus you couldn't bring yourself to pick the best examples, rather letting them grow in peace for your prolonged enjoyment.

It wasn't until the third time you had come to the inn with a flower for Xiao that he was waiting for you on the balcony. Seeing the yaksha there made you pause, heart skipping a beat in surprise. He turned from his place looking out across the landscape to see you, certainly not as surprised to see you as you were him.

The way he looked expectantly at the flower in your hand has you realizing you had been standing there frozen. You moved, extending the flower out to him in offering. He took it delicately from your hand, looking it over for a moment.

"Thank you," he said softly, so quiet you almost didn't hear it at all. You could only nod stiffly in response. He scoffed at you before turning around again to lean against the balcony railing.

Just as it had the first time you met the yaksha, it felt wrong to just leave. So, you decided to survey the landscape of Liyue with him in silence. After the first few minutes, the atmosphere became rather comfortable between the two of you. Still, by the time he disappeared in a cloud of black mist and anemo feathers, neither of you had spoken a word.

This morning you were out early in the morning to explore the wilds of Liyue. You were no adventurer, though. Your purpose was to analyze the populations of certain flora and fauna. These were trips you made often to various parts of Liyue, wishing to preserve the life of endangered species, and always alone. Bringing people along to the locations of such rare organisms, be it plant or animal, was a dangerous thing. In many instances, rare means valuable and there are those who would do anything for some Mora.

Today you found yourself in Dihua Marsh to check up on the Glaze Lily population. Based on your counts, the number hadn't fluctuated greatly since your last visit, there were even a few new blooms. This brought you great relief, Glaze Lilies seemed to be somewhat of a symbol of Liyue and it would sadden you to see their wild population disappear, even if they remained in Qingce Village and at the Yujing Terrace. It wouldn't be the same.

Once you had sung a few songs to the flowers, not worried about anyone hearing you in this rather secluded area, you made your way back to one of the main roads. The long walks back to the harbor always ended up with you lost deep in thought, which wasn't always a good thing. Lost deep in your own mind, you didn't notice the slow advance of a small group of Treasure Hoarders until it was too late.

There was no time to run away as they surrounded you, it was unlikely you could have outrun them anyways. Fortunately, it didn't take very long for the Treasure Hoarders to discover you had absolutely nothing of value on you, and while they may be thieves it wasn't often a Treasure Hoarder was a murderer. Of course, they had roughed you up a bit before ultimately leaving you alone. There was a nasty scrape on your cheek and you were sure you would be bruised in the morning, but you weren't seriously injured.

By the next day, your muscles ached and bruises had appeared in various places on your body, but the scrapes had stopped bleeding and it was nothing that would stop you from bringing your usual offering to Xiao. You spent some time perusing your garden, looking for the perfect gift. You settled on a Silk Flower, there was some worry in your mind that Xiao would dislike it because they did grow right outside of the Wangshu Inn, but you hope the exceptional fragrance and color of this specimen would gain his appreciation.

Mindful not to fiddle with the flower as to preserve its pristine state, you worried the whole walk to the inn. Even if the adeptus wasn't present, if he rejected the offering you felt you would know. Maybe you would find the flower sitting where you left it on your next visit, or maybe Verr Goldet would tell you about the silk flower she found laying on the balcony. Your heart clenched at the thought and you couldn't help but wonder when you had started seeking the yaksha's approval.

You hadn't even realized you arrived at the inn until you were stepping off the elevator, lost in thought again. Shaking your head, you thought it would be good if you started paying more attention. Getting ambushed by again was the last thing you wanted, the next time it could be worse than petty thieves.

Pushing the negative thoughts from your mind, you climbed the stairs to the balcony you so often visited. Your muscles ached in quiet protest, but the pain was mild. Peeking over the stairs, you spotted Xiao.

For the first time, he was already facing you, leaning with his back against the railing. You wondered if he had spotted you on your way to the Inn, offering him a polite smile as a silent greeting. You extended the Silk Flower to him once you stepped out onto the balcony.

"What happened to you?" Xiao asked immediately, tone stern. He took the flower from you without even sparing a glance down at it. Did he not like Silk Flowers?

"Oh, um, I just bumped into some Treasure Hoarders yesterday. Nothing serious," you answered after finally processing his question, bringing your hand up to the scrape on your cheek without thinking. His frown deepened with your response and the adeptus crossed his arms over your chest.

"You were hurt," he pointed out bluntly. You felt small under his hard stare.

"Oh, it's nothing, um, serious," you assured him with a nervous laugh. He only furrowed his brows at your response.

"If ever again you find yourself in any danger, call my name. Adeptus Xiao. I will be there when you call."

At his words, your cheeks heated up. Was this some sort of special treatment, or did he offer this to anyone? It felt wrong to receive such kindness from an adeptus if it was only for you.

"Promise," he pressed when you didn't answer.

"Okay, I will. If I'm ever in danger, I'll call you," you agreed meekly, feeling a great weight put upon you under his amber gaze. He huffed before disappearing in his usual manner, and it was impossible for you to tell if he was upset with you.

The next time you visited the inn, Xiao hadn't appeared. This wasn't unusual, but the worry that you had displeased him seeped into your bones. You tried to ignore this feeling, going out often to check on wildlife populations and spending extra time tending to your garden. Keeping busy was the best way to take your mind off your worries and stay productive.

A week after your meeting with the Vigilant Yaksha, you were back at Dihua Marsh checking on the Glaze Lilies. You were sitting in the middle of the lilies, singing softly to the patch of flowers when the sound of shouting reached your ears. Looking up, you noticed two hilichurls accompanied by a mitachurl with a stone shield who was charging your way.

There would be no time for you to get up and out of the way, so you closed your eyes and braced for the impact. You could only pray it wouldn't kill you, but even if it didn't you would probably be unable to escape death by the hilichurls soon after.

The impact never came, instead, a gust of wind blew past you and you wondered if the mitachurl had somehow run past you. When you opened your eyes, you saw Glaze Lily petals swirl into the air, dancing around the familiar figure of the Vigilant Yaksha. The mitachurl was already crumbling to dust, returning to the Abyss with it's hilichurl companions.

Xiao turned to face you, mask dematerializing from his face and reappearing at his hip. When he extended his hand down to help you get up, you furrowed your brows wondering why he had been here. Was it incredible luck, or had he perhaps been following you?

Taking his hand, you let him pull you up onto shaky legs. He didn't let go, looking a little worried you'd fall. You finally looked up to his face, scanning golden eyes.

"Why are you here?" you finally asked, throat feeling a bit scratchy.

"I told you I would be there when you called."

His words only confused you further until it dawned on you, the scratchy feeling in your throat was awfully similar to that which came with yelling. Had you truly called his name without even thinking, without even realizing?

"Thank you, Xiao."

[travellingarmy]

║Diluc║Adopted

Requested from Wattpad.

Child, male reader. Completely platonic.

Fluff.

Word count: 2.2k

---

You don't know where you came from and neither did he, but that question doesn't linger on for too long, allowing yourselves to enjoy in each other's presence.

He wasn't one to have an interest in taking care of children, but ever since he found you in a woven basket in Wolvendom, he made you the centre of his life.

"Diluc, I want to train today!" Barging into his office, you greet him an enthusiastic- yet loud- morning, slamming the door wide open to create a booming sound that Diluc no longer gets a fright out of. "Can we go outside today? Please, please, please?"

He looks up from his paper to eye your person before returning his attention to the paper. "We can go out today, but it will be to the tavern. I have something to do."

You pout and slumped onto a nearby chair, your ears slightly drooping down like the hybrid dog you are. There were few people who had an animal appearance like you and perhaps that might have had been the reason he was drawn to you.

"I said I want to train, not follow you on your errands!" head snapping up as you whined. Diluc slowly closes his eyes and sighs, quite tired from the work yesterday and the added work today. However, he knows how persistent you were and how you would get annoying by the day that even Adelinde starts to get a headache. With that knowledge, he stood up shortly and looks towards your petite frame.

Your eyes sparkled and a child-like smile forms on your face, knowing what he'll say next. "Did you have breakfast already?" Diluc asks, although it was nearly afternoon, and you nod almost immediately. "Then we'll go out and quickly visit the tavern. Afterwards, we can practise your archery." If he was going to shut you up while doing his work, this method was always effective.

You hop off the couch and rushed towards the red-head, grabbing his hand and allow him to lead the way.

Although he adopted you, he did not put himself as your father on the paper and asked of you to call him by his name only, but that didn't matter to you.

You bid Adelinde goodbye and outside, you took big leaps, excited to get on with archery. "(Y/N), slow down. You'll trip and then we'll fall," Diluc points out, slightly bending as he chases after you, trying to keep up in the light of your steps.

You slowed down, walking at a more comfortable pace. For you, stamina was everything but since Diluc wasn't a child, he couldn't go as fast as you wanted. "Sorry, Diluc."

However, throughout that walk, you did stray from time to time, sometimes letting go of his hand to peek what could have been hiding in rustling bushes. "(Y/N), come back here," he would say, gaining your attention back to his side.

Upon entering the gates, a particular someone just had to show up. "Oho~ Fancy meeting you here, Master Diluc," the all too familiar Cavalry Captain greets, souring Diluc's day. Kaeya's smirk stretched a bit, looking quite smug as his eyes move from him and to your petite stature.

"And good morning, (Y/N). Are you here to run errands with Master Diluc?" He asks with a close-eyed smile, ignoring the murderous aura coming from his brother as he leans down to your level, hands on his thighs.

You nod. "I want to learn how to charge my arrow like Fish lady!" you say with a gleam. Kaeya stares dumbfoundedly at you before finally realizing that you were referring to Fischl from the Adventurer's Guild. "Oh, I see That's some intense training, but I'm sure that you can pull it off." He ruffles your hair and chuckles.

"Sir Kaeya, as a captain, you have an awful lot of time to waltz around lazily," Diluc comments, his grip on your hand tightening, but not too hard that it would hurt. This comment's venom flies by over the aforementioned male as he chuckles, shrugging. "What can I say? I'm sure you're well aware that Grand Master Varka has taken all of my knights. Who am I supposed to captain?"

You mused at the two brothers' bickering silently and see that Diluc's eyebrows were twitching-- most likely from the annoyance his brother is giving him. "But as a knight, you should have at least something to do."

"I do, and that's speaking to (Y/N)," he says. "It is a knight's duty to make sure the people are safe and so, I am speaking with him to make sure he isn't being forced into training by you. You know how wrong that is, don't you, Master Diluc?"

"Tch. I'm well aware. And on that note, I believe you're more capable of doing that than I," Diluc crosses his arms as he spoke. It was getting to the point that your feet were starting to annoy you. Standing still was not something you like doing. "Diluc, can we go now?" You tug on the hem of his coat with your free hand and pouted slightly.

This got both of the brothers' attention and they looked at each other. "Apologies, but we have to go now. You know how children are," Diluc says, feeling quite happy.

"Aw, (Y/N), doesn't want to stay with me?" Kaeya pouts. You shook your head and smiled. "I want to train!" you voiced. Kaeya hums in acknowledgement. "Hm, I see. Then, I won't keep little (Y/N) too long. But promise me you'll play with me next time." He offers his pinky finger and you took it, lacing your smaller pinky. "I promise!"

After that, Diluc tugs you along lightly, not wanting to stay anywhere near the captain, heading towards the tavern to speak with a waited person. "(Y/N), you sit here, okay? Don't stray away." Diluc says and helps you up on one of the chairs outside. You nod, swinging your legs that dangle off of the chair. Diluc stares at you and shows a small smile, ruffling your hair, and then walking off.

You were left alone, but not truly alone as you see Diluc not too far from you, talking to a man who looked wealthy themselves. It was probably a business negotiation of some sort, but you were too young to be bothered by trivial matters that did not involve you.

"Hey, hey, look at him." Whispers. To an average person, they wouldn't be able to hear it, but you weren't, and so, you heard children whispering behind you. It was also evident that they were talking about you as you heard another whisper, "He has doggy ears. I want one."

You thought they would just talk like every other person, but that thought was dismissed when you hear light footsteps coming your way. You turned your head to look down at the other children. There were two boys and a girl. The girl was most likely younger than you and the boys were older-- older than yourself. They look like trouble, you thought to yourself.

"Hey, you!" The first one to speak was one of the two boys. He has jet-black hair and wore thick glasses. You hopped off of your seat and stare at them silently, waiting for them to continue. "Is that thing on your head real?"

"Uh, yeah, it is," you answered, getting off from the chair to have a proper conversation with them. It was a common question asked to you that you lost count of how many times someone came up to you and ask.

"I don't believe it," he voiced, crossing his arms and lookin smug. "Yeah, let us touch it," the second one spoke. Your brows slightly furrows. Who were these kids and why were they suddenly asking to touch your ears? Yeah, sure it was strange and not human-like, but who gave these kids courage to spew words like that?

"Sorry, but they're really sensitive.." you state, your brows slightly furrowing. "Oh, please. I bet you're just saying that because it's actually fake!" Without warning, he reached for your ears and tug it harshly and you yelped at the pain. "Woaaah! Did you glue it onto your head? You're so weird."

"Please, let go." You knew how much stronger you were compared to average children, seeing as you had a vision and was trained to combat and so, you didn't dare use force to get him to pull away, wrapping both of your tiny hands on the wrist outstretched to you. Diluc always reminded you to never harm others. "Please, let go!" you repeated, slightly louder than before. Water started to form on the corner of your eyes the more he pulled on your ears.

In response to your distress, your vision glowed and sent a tiny shock of electro from your hands that held onto his. It wasn't harmful, but just enough to make the kid hiss and stumble back. "H, hey, what did you do to him?" The girl reached for her friend, looking at the hand that had a slight purple to it from you.

And to make matters worst, an older woman came running towards you four, seemingly to be one of their mother. "What's going on here?" the lady asks. "Mommy, look what he did to me!" the boy showed his wrist with tears on his face.

With one look at it, the lady turns towards you. "Excuse me, do you have any idea what you just did?" "I asked him if his ears were real and he suddenly attacked me!" Liar. He was lying, but you had no one to back your claims.

She huffs. "How dare you! How would you like it if someone were to do that to you." She reached her long, slender arms for your wrist. "Where are your parents? I'll have them know how naughty you are." Grabbing your wrist, she tries and drags you from your spot.

"That won't be necessary." Just in time, Diluc came back with the same, glaring-like expression on his face. The woman's eyes widened and with a gasp, let's go of your wrist. "Master Diluc?" she calls.

Diluc looks at the woman and to the children, inspecting the wrist that had been bruised. He had heard the conversation from where he stood and sped up his meeting with the person.

"Tell me what happened?" he asks, eyes returning their attention to the woman. "Well, this brat here injured my child and I was about to look for his parents."

"Oh, really? (Y/N), don't tell me you've forgotten what I told you about using your vision?" Although when he asks this, he already knows the answer. You shook your head. "I didn't mean to hurt them, I promise! They were pulling in my ears and.." Your voice grew weaker into silence, drooping your head down, thinking that he wouldn't buy your excuses.

Diluc sees this and immediately kneels down to your level, putting a hand on your shoulders and gain your attention. "Hey, look up. If you know that you are in the right, there is  nothing you should shy away from," his voice was low and spoke softly to you.

Your eyes brightened up a bit and Diluc smiled-- not showing it though. He lifts you off of the ground, putting and arm under you for support as the other went on your back.

The lady was confused but most importantly, scared. "If you're looking for his guardian, you're speaking to them," Diluc spoke, eyes glued on you whilst the words directed to her. "But before you do that, demand the truth from your son." With that, he walked away, leaving the mother to ask what really happened while he comforted you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and bury your face on his shoulders, trying hard not to let a single tear slip. You idolized Diluc for his skills in combat and his ability to never cry and so, you didn't like crying. It made you feel weak and nowhere near to become like Diluc.

"Hey, it's alright." He rubs your back, noticing your shaking body trying hard not to cry. "It's okay to cry, but don't cry for foolish people. You'll just give them what they want." In moments like these, you see Diluc as a father with his comforting words and life lectures.

You hummed and became silent. Yes, you can't cry for those types of people, you comfort yourself. Taking a deep breath, you peel yourself from his shoulders and showed him the smile that he would never admit he loves to see. A smile that gives others strength with the look of fire in your eyes.

"Alright, do you want to train now?" he asks, slightly smiling. You nod, but stopped yourself. "Wait, don't you still have other things to do?" you ask, to which Diluc ruffles your hair with his free hand. "Those can wait tomorrow. I could use some rest right now."

---

[multisfabulis]

Only Through Acceptance Will Love Find Us

Hopeless (Chapter 3)

Word Count: 3361

DISCLAIMER: This chapter contains a sexual assault scene that may be potentially triggering. While it is only an unwanted kiss, it is still abundantly clear that it is non-consensual and the imagery used can be considered as too graphic; thus, the reason this disclaimer exists. If you are not comfortable reading that, feel free to skip this chapter. Otherwise, please exercise caution and take care of yourself.

Oh, look! Another chapter that didn't take almost a year to come out! I'm getting better at this!

Seriously, though, I'm glad there wasn't too long of a break between chapters this time. This was originally going to be super long but I decided to cut it into two because there would've been too many things going on in this chapter and I thought it would be better story-wise to end this with Ven lamenting over the state of her life in despair. Next chapter does get better but we'll have to wait till then!

As for the Scene between Ven and Renard, I hope I did a good job in conveying the horror being in that position brings. It's a situation that, while I'm thankful I've never been in and hope to never be in, many people unfortunately have experience with. This kind of disgusting behavior doesn't discriminate and it brings trauma to the people who have been in Ven's position. At the very least, I believe this may be my only time writing any thing like this because I don't like putting my OCs into this kind of situation. It makes it too real, in a sense.

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     “All right, that should about do it!”

     Standing up straight, Ven wiped the sweat off her brow as she looked upon the fruits of her labor with pride. She had just finished planting seeds in the garden and the pansies were sure to start sprouting in a few weeks’ time. She couldn’t wait to see her mother’s reaction when she returned from her business trip and was greeted by an iridescent sea of flowers throughout the homestead. It would be a nice reward for all the hard work she’d done over the last year.

     She glanced up at the sky. It was only a little past noon, with clouds drifting to and fro as the sun beamed down upon her. Her stomach growled seemingly right on cue and she realized just how hungry she was. She had gone straight to her garden after coming home from work today so she hadn’t eaten anything since this morning. Now was the perfect time for a break, she thought.

     She walked inside and to the kitchen with purpose. Humming a little tune to herself, she took out the footstool and put it in front of the counter to reach one of the cabinets above her. Inside was a mason jar full of blackberries she’d been wanting to eat since around lunchtime yesterday. Dinner wouldn’t be for another few hours yet so these would be a good snack to help tide her over till then. With that out of the way, she hopped off the footstool, unscrewed the lid, and popped some of the delicious berries into her mouth.

     What else was there to do on her checklist? She fed the animals their breakfast, headed off to work, gave the other half of bread she baked to the bookshop owner, and tended to her garden. As far as she knew, the only task she had left would be to feed the animals their dinner in the evening, which meant she had the rest of the day to do whatever she wanted. Realizing that, she had already decided how she was going to spend her newfound free time.

     She walked over to the table where her book was lying. There was a folded up piece of paper slipped between the pages, acting as a sort of bookmark since she didn’t own a proper one yet. She picked it up and brought it with her to her chair, opening it to where she last left off at. With all the preparations complete, she began reading, feeling herself being sucked into the fantasy world once more.

     It was the climax. The heroine and the beast had been reunited, only for it to be tragically cut short by the villain before falling to his doom. Despite doing everything in her power to try and save him, the beast succumbed to his mortal wounds in the arms of the woman he loved. Ven’s heart ached for the heroine as she grieved over the loss of the one person who truly understood her. Then, by her declaration of love, a miracle was brought about, restoring both the beast’s life and his humanity. Ven read on with bated breath, waiting for the two to finally kiss when---

     Loud knocks broke through her reverie. Were those from outside or was there someone at her door? She strained her ears for a minute or two, listening to see which of the two was correct. When she heard her answer by the door, she let out a low groan in annoyance. It was one thing to be taken out of her immersion while reading but did it really have to come at such a climatic moment? Regardless, it meant she had to go see whoever was here. The sooner she helped them with what they needed, the sooner she could dive back into her story.

     As she hastily tidied everything up, there were even more knocks, leading her to shout at the door with, “I’m coming, just hold on, please!” Whoever they were, they sure were impatient.

     Then it hit her how strange the whole situation was. People normally never came to her house, whether it be out of fear or for some other reason. Both her and her mother’s reputations made it near impossible for them to have customers come visit so who could possibly be at their door? She needed to exercise caution here; she may have been acting paranoid but it was better to be safe than sorry.

     She tiptoed over to the window, pulling the curtain back just a sliver to see who her mystery visitor was without alerting them to her presence. She grimaced upon finding out their identity. What the hell was he doing here, she wondered as she begrudgingly went to answer the door. She had an idea of what his reasons for being here were and she really hoped she could somehow convince him to leave her be. The last thing she wanted was to upset him, especially after what happened yesterday. Steeling her nerves, she opened the door to greet him.

     Forcing on the friendliest smile she could muster, she asked him, “Renard, what brings you by today?”

     “Oh, Thea, you can’t even say hello to me?” He put a hand over where his heart was, as if to say she had wounded him. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Well, no matter. You see, I have come to apologize to you.”

     “...Really?” She was taken aback by this development. Of all the things she expected him to be here for, that wasn’t one of them.

     “Yes, I realized yesterday I may have been too harsh with what I said about your mother. I should’ve reserved my judgment instead of lashing out like I did.” He seemed sincere enough but it was hard to tell whether it was real or not. “I see how my words have hurt you and for that, I truly apologize.”

     After ruminating on it for a moment, she said, “Well, thank you, I appreciated that. On that front, perhaps I should’ve held my tongue as well before letting my anger get the best of me so…I’m sorry.”

     “I accept your apology.” Maybe she was wrong about Renard. There was still something off about him but she was willing to dismiss it as her being overly suspicious of anything that might give her trouble. Then he immediately disregarded any good will he could’ve had by asking, “Anyway, can I come in? I also wanted to make good on my promise.”

     Renard all but barged in, practically shoving her to the side as he slammed the door shut behind him. Panic bubbled up inside her, realizing how quickly the tables had turned on her. How was she going to get him out of her house? While she wanted to believe he wouldn’t dare hurt her in her own home, she definitely didn’t want to test that theory in case it was proven to be false. There was no telling what he’d do if he desired something badly enough.

     As he walked about the living room, she asked in a nervous voice, “Um, if I may, uh, what did you mean by ‘making good on your promise’?”

     “Exactly what I meant, Thea.” He sat down in her mother’s chair, casually reclining back to cross his legs. “I wanna take you out on a date.”

     “Oh, that’s…” she paused, scrambling to figure out how she should proceed onward, “sweet of you, Renard, but I’m afraid I must decline. You caught me right when I was about to get back to work and---”

     “Come on, it’ll only be for an hour, I promise. Let me make it up to you.”

     “Again, I must decline. I have chores to take care of, what with my mother not being here for the time being, and I simply can’t leave them unattended. You know how it is, I’m just too busy!”

     God, she hated being on this invisible tightrope. Her mother always told her to be careful when it came to men who were either too slow on the uptake or too stubborn to get the hint. She needed to let Renard down gently but make it clear she held no romantic interest in him. She had hoped she’d never find herself in this position but the universe seemed to love tormenting her. Of all the times this could’ve happened, why did it have to be now?

     “All right, I’m giving you one last chance to answer me.” He stood up from the chair, the lit fireplace casting his tall shadow across the floor. “Will you go out with me?”

     “Now’s just not a good time.” He was starting to get annoyed, she had to defuse the situation before it had a chance to ignite. “I have work to do and…” She gulped, her eyes flitting around the room for anything to help her out of this.

     “And what?”

     “And…” She glanced towards her book currently lying in her chair. That’s when she had an idea. “I have to return my book soon! I told the bookshop owner I’d give it back to him today so I would really appreciate it if you could please leave.”

     The silence was deafening. It wasn’t the best lie she could’ve fed him but she was desperate. Every second that passed felt like an eternity and she prayed to whatever god there was to make Renard leave. Then he breathed in deep as if mulling over what she just said, giving her hope he finally got the message.

     “You know, Thea, I really don’t like it when people lie to me,” he said, sending shivers down her spine. “I’d rather you tell me the truth instead of beating around the bush.”

     Even if she dug the hole deeper, she attempted to save herself by stammering out, “B-but I swear, I’m not---”

     “As much as I admire your learnedness, it’s becoming quite the detriment for you now.” He picked up her book and held it, causing fear to wash over her like she were taking an ice cold bath. “You seem to believe this piece of trash will give you everything your heart desires when that will never be the case. I can give you more than whatever this garbage can.”

     “Renard, please, we can talk about this,” she begged, her voice rising in pitch.

     “It’s because I’m looking out for you--” he turned slightly towards the fireplace and her eyes widened in realization-- “I’m doing this.” Then he threw the book into the fire without any hesitation. “You can thank me later.”

     The world seemed to be going by in slow motion. She watched as her beloved book, her dearest companion, was set ablaze and reduced to cinders in her fireplace like it was simply nothing. She wanted to scream, cry, hurt Renard just as he hurt her. Instead, she clenched her hands, met his gaze, and gave him a glare that had risen from the very depths of her rage.

     “I will say this once and only once.” She took a step forward. “I am never going to go out with you. Whatever you think is going to happen between us will never happen, especially not after what you did. Do I make myself clear?” She pointed a finger towards the door. “Now get the hell out of my house and don’t come near me ever again, you stuck up son of a bitch.”

     The room fell into silence. How she wasn’t beating him senselessly right now, she had no idea. The only thing she was focusing on was not letting him see the tears brimming her eyes over the loss of her most valuable treasure. She vehemently refused to give him the satisfaction of being able to break her down. After the weight of her words appeared to have sunken in, he responded.

     He advanced towards her slowly. There wasn’t a hint of emotion present on his face, weakening her resolve. It was then she became acutely aware of the sheer difference in size between them. He easily dwarfed her in almost every physical quality there was, from height to weight to even strength. He could do anything he wanted to her and she would have no chance in hell of fighting him off. That little epiphany scared her more than death itself.

     “You know, Thea, I don’t think you understand the position you’re in. Do you even realize just how many people would kill to be you right now?” She backed away from him as he continued to approach her, trying to create as much space between them as she possibly could. “You’re either too dim or too naive to see and I know you’ve got a brain inside that pretty little head of yours.” She hit the front door and he put both arms up on either side of her, effectively trapping her. “I must say you’re even more beautiful up close like this.”

     Her heart pounding against her chest, she fought to keep her voice steady as she said, “W-what are you going to do, hurt me? I’ll scream if you do.”

     “Oh, I have no doubt you will but the real question is--” he leaned in, looking down at her-- “would anyone believe you?”

     “W-what are you talking about, of course they would!” she exclaimed, feeling a sense of dread building within her.

     “Are you sure about that?” He sounded almost gleeful in the face of her growing fear. “Think about it, if I did anything to you and you came out about it, would anyone really believe you? Believe that I, Renard Géroux, the savior of Belleurseul, hurt you, the local witch?” He scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

     He was right. His words shook her to her core, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over as the floor felt like it had gone out from underneath her. If he attacked her, she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. It’d be her story against his, she’d draw the ire of the whole village down upon her with her accusation. Any strength she had in her legs vanished and it was only by her leaning on the door she stayed standing. She wanted to throw up; no one was going to save her.

     “You’re trembling like a scared rabbit.” He raised a hand to cup her cheek but she recoiled away from it. “Truly a shame you think I’d hurt you.”

     Gathering her courage to speak, she asked him, “Wh-what do you want from me?”

     “I think, since you seem to be on the verge of a fit, all I want is a kiss.” He brushed a thumb across her bottom lip. “I trust you know what I mean. We’re both adults here and I believe we should act as much.”

     This was hell. Everything was just getting worse and worse and she wanted nothing more than to die at that very moment. Renard had her in his grasp, free to do whatever he pleased with her. Her first kiss was going to be with a man who only saw her as a trophy he felt entitled to if she didn’t stop him here. She may not have been strong enough to push him off but she had to do something.

     He leaned down as her hands searched for anything that could help her. Her fingers swept against a metallic object, cool to the touch. She realized it was the knob to the front door. Now all she needed was to wait for the right opportunity to show itself so she could free herself from this position. She couldn’t afford to waste what could be her only ticket out.

     His lips were nearly upon hers. She could feel his warm breath fanning out over her mouth and she knew then it was now or never. A split second before they were about to kiss, she twisted the knob to thrust the door open. She pressed herself flat against its surface to avoid flying out, which was exactly what Renard didn’t do. He stumbled forward with such force, he ended up tumbling over the stone half-wall outside and falling into the small, murky pond below.

     She had just enough time to head back inside and lock the door. If Renard decided to retaliate against her, she wasn’t taking any chances. Minutes passed as she stood mere meters away from the door, unsure on whether she should run upstairs to fetch her dagger or not. When it became clear he wasn’t going to do anything to her, she breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Her reprieve was short-lived, however, once she remembered about her book.

     She rushed over to the fireplace. A part of her clung to the hope her book could potentially be saved but it was all for naught. The once small yet exquisite book was no more, its burnt remains a gray ash spread amongst the firewood. She dropped to her knees in despair. Her one ally, her source of comfort in a cruel world, was truly gone, never to be seen again.

     A broken sob slipped out of her mouth as tears slid down her cheeks. The pain felt insurmountable and she could do nothing except scream at the top of her lungs till her throat was hoarse. She wanted so many things yet what she wanted most of all was her mother. She wished she was here to console her instead of being on a business trip to god knows where. Grief then gave way to anger.

     She hated this. She hated Belleurseul, hated living in it, hated the villagers, hated everything that had to do with this horrible hellhole. She wanted it all to disappear, to drown in the deepest bowels of hell where it could never hurt her again. She hated herself the very most, for looking the way she did, being the way she was, for even existing in the horrid life she had.

     She asked herself, why couldn’t she be normal? Why couldn’t she have looked like other girls and not stand out? That way, no one would hate or fear her and Renard would be some other person’s problem to deal with. Why was she cursed to be like this, what god did she unknowingly offend, was she put here just to suffer? No matter how much she begged, her questions would never be answered. She had gone through her whole life without them, why not the rest of it then?

     She sat in front of the fireplace, mourning the loss of her only friend all the while wishing for a new life.

[suganovakawa]

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader , slight hajime iwaizumi x fem! reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : cursing , car accident , recovery from amnesia

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐈𝐕 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐕

can you handle the truth?

word count : 1.2k

saudade masterlist .

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀your stomach leaped across fields the moment you woke up. there was an uneasy tension in the air as you opened your phone to see no new notifications. what was hajime so nervous about? what could've possibly happened for him to be so... stubborn in wanting to keep it from you? you were beginning to think you were some sort of serial killer, and hajime was hiding you from the government. that wouldn't be too drastic... maybe?

⠀hajime showed up at your door in the afternoon, you were surprised to see the dark circles under his eyes. he hadn't slept a wink. his abnormalcy was making you second guess yourself. did you really want to know everything? or was iwaizumi right?

⠀you shook that thought out of your head before it could become your main worry. you did want to know. that was why you confronted him once and for all yesterday. he, as far as you knew, was the only one who could give you the answers you wanted. no one else seemed to know - or they just weren't willing to tell you.

⠀you clenched your jaw as you opened the door for hajime, who had his hands in his pockets, uncharacteristically quiet. you didn't bother to begin a conversation, and neither did he. you kept your distance as you walked side by side, alongside hajime as he took the lead to his desired location. you didn't realize where you two stopped, until you stood right underneath the doorway - an arcade.

⠀this silence wasn't going to get you anywhere. "why are we here?"

⠀"before... we get to the serious matters," he spoke, noticeably choosing his words carefully, "get your mind off it first. i know you've been tense the past few days, and it's good to wind down, even if it's only for a little while."

⠀"hajime, i swear to god if you - "

⠀"i'm not avoiding it, i promise." his face wavered, but his voice didn't. "before you go home today, i swear you will know everything you want to know."

⠀he had that finalty in his tone that told you, indefinitely, that it wouldn't go any other way. might as well see this through. you had your head set like steel, no distraction would let him get under your nerves. whatever game iwaizumi was trying to play with you, he wasn't going to win. the truth was so close, you could reach out and feel it in your fingertips.

⠀"i was... hoping this place would trigger some memories, you know." you shrugged your shoulder off as hajime placed a hand on it to help you inside. "this is actually the place we first met, before your accident."

⠀"oh?" you looked around and examined the arcade - retro, dark electronic aesthetics painted the building, with counters of prizes and games galore. however, nothing special came to you about it. "nothing stands out to me. are you sure this is where we first met?"

⠀"well, not actually meet." he put air quotes around 'meet'. "rather, this is where we first got to know each other. since we were on the same team and never spoke, we all came here and this is where we all got a bonding moment." he laughed, rather fondly, but you didn't react to it. "the entire team came together after practice one day, and we spent a good few hours here."

⠀"sounds fun." you didn't feel like playing at an arcade, of all places. the neon lights hardly piqued your interest; hajime seemed to be the only one excited to be here. or maybe it was just a front, and he was merely trying to pass the time and make you forget. you almost laughed at the thought of it. with how desperate you were for answers, any attempt to make you forget would be pathetically futile.

⠀"it was. you had a nasty flick when it came to air hockey." as if right on cue, there was the air hockey table, right in your line of sight. "want to play?"

⠀you really didn't. "i could go for a round."

⠀placing the tokens in a slot, iwaizumi took a side, and you took yours. the plastic of the little paddle was cold against your hand, but the clang of the puck had already begun to slide against the table before you could pinpoint any nostalgic feeling to it. each point seemed like a drag, but hajime seemed to be telling the truth about one thing - your flicks were pretty damn good.

⠀before you could get into the game, the table had stopped, the puck disappeared, and the scoreboard read 7 - 4. you gently bit the side of your cheek to conceal an oncoming cheeky gloat as your company simply brushed his loss off with a huff.

⠀"come on, i'm hungry. let's go and eat. it's lunch time." before he could drag you off somewhere else, you began to walk off, hoping to make it out of the arcade.

⠀"already? but we just got here and only played one thing - "

⠀"i'm hungry, hajime." by the looks of your glare, you knew that iwa knew that you weren't hungry.

⠀a walk around the block and a restaurant later, you two ended up sitting down in a booth in the back of the same place you two had gone to not long before. you sat him down before he could go up and further procrastinate. he was a deer trapped in headlights - he was genuinely scared of what was to come. but enough was enough, you were tired of him relentlessly beating around the bush. you wanted answers, and you wanted them now.

⠀"just get it over with," you pleaded. "i want to remember. i want to know, hajime. don't you understand? why won't you tell me? what are you so afraid of?"

⠀"it's more complicated than that, y/n." he kept his voice low, but his hands were balled up into tight fists. "if it were so easy, i would've come out and tell you the moment i saw you. but it's much more complicated. i'm trying to protect you."

⠀"forget protecting me!" your sudden outburst caused a turn of heads, but you sank down in your seat long enough for everyone to continue their own daily agenda. you leaned forward to stare iwaizumi right in the eyes - you had never seen him so scared before. "i'm not your damsel in distress," you whispered, "enough is enough. you need to stop the hero act. i'm grateful for everything you've done for me, but keeping something vital to my memory for your own personal gain? what do you even get out of keeping me in the dark, hajime? just what?"

⠀hajime was silent. his eyes had turned away from yours, the gears in his head visibly turning. you sat back and crossed your arms, not knowing what could possibly be running through that head of his. it was on the tip of his tongue, all he needed was a push to get him to confess.

⠀"what do i gain?" he muttered, after continuous moments of ongoing silence. a strange smile appeared on his lips, expressing something you had never seen from him before. "a second chance."

⠀a what?

⠀"a second - "

⠀"we were in a relationship before, you and i."

⠀and just when you didn’t think it would get more complicated than this, the cat had been let out of the bag.

a/n : for my own health (and possibly yours), i am never writing another angst series with hajime iwaizumi ever again 🧍🏻‍♀️

taglist ( closed ) — @ot127 @rena0921 @karlitabi-rrito @psychicpercyjacksonfan @crescentbitch @amelimiles @damnirina @pasta-warlord @blossomingbangtan @clinomanians @i-am-kinda-in-alot-of-fandoms @manq-fandoms @cirtruss @sugar-wara @haikoo @anime-simp @kairostatue @awkwardspontaneity @iwantapoptartqwq @aquariarose @softestdreamer @plantisnotplant @avylee @froppysgirl @that-animebitch @wisepandaslimeland @samanthaa-leanne @dumplingzumispam@0hakaashi @captain-janeway @afterglowkuroo @bellabelieveme @attixca @chickenrest @tycrackculture @ynjimenez @karaseijoh @lavieenblancetnoir @dabilove27 @cuddlesslut @crypto-s @keigosbitch @readeretal @shittykawaa @donghyuckster @adriloen @ella-solei @emiyummy @kukiisan @catyuyuyuu @sillykittt @dolan-mendes @kiritokunuwu @the-third-wall @yammers @todohawki

— continued in the comments! starting this new year off strong <3

[yungidreamer]

Unmasked

When stress, jealousy, and fears boil over, it doesn’t matter if it’s the right time or place...

Pairing Yunho, Mingi, unnamed fem character, established poly relationship

Content warnings: A little bit of angst to start with, carrying over from unresolved issues from the last section. Oral sex (fem receiving), slight hair pulling, possessiveness, unprotected sex, slightly rough, marking, multiple orgasms, over stimulation.

The whole week had been strained, and it was going to drive the boys crazy. She had been standoffish since the incident on Friday, and at first they could write it off to how busy they had all been. They all had tests this week in more than one of their classes, so the fact that she was studying more, well, it wasn’t unexpected. But by the time she stayed at the library until it closed for the third night in a row, they suspected she was trying to avoid spending as much time with them.

She came home every night, slipping into their shared bed after a shower. It had become a sort of habit for her to take the middle of the bed, letting both the boys take a side each, letting them stretch out both across her and into the spaces her smaller form left at the foot of the bed. But the few times that she slipped off to bed before them, she instead slid herself off to one side, quickly trying to go to sleep before the boys could join her. 

When Yunho finally brought it up that Thursday while they had a quick breakfast before heading to their classes, she waved it off, saying that she was just tired this week and he was just reading too much into it.

“I’m not sure I am going to make it to lunch today though,” she said, taking the last bite of her bagel before pushing away from the table. “I have my last test tomorrow and I still have things I need to study for it.”

“You can take a little break and eat something with us,” Yunho sighed.

“I really have to study,” she sighed, gathering her stuff near the door. “Things will get better soon, though, I promise.” She walked back to the boys, giving them kisses on their cheeks before rushing out the door.

“She’s avoiding us isn’t she,” Mingi asked the other boy glumly.

“Yeah,” Yunho sighed. “I think she might be mad at us but…”

“But what did we do?” Mingi asked, a worried frown knitting his forehead.

“It’s my fault,” Yunho shook his head, taking his dishes to the sink. “This all started with what happened with Hong Joong.”

“But it turned out okay,” Mingi insisted. “Hong Joong seems okay and he hasn’t said anything. He’s nice and he hasn’t been treating us weird or anything.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I guess she is just trying to push us about just being friends in public. We never did really decide on that whole thing.”

“She is sort of deciding for us,” Mingi agreed. “But it was just going to be outside and,” he paused. “I miss having time with all of us.”

“Me, too,” Yunho pulled the other boy into a hug, holding him for a moment before they parted and prepared to leave.

Saturday came quickly with the hustle and bustle that filled the week. Everyone picked up their costumes when they had a spare moment. Yunho and Mingi would be puppies and she would be a kitty. The costumes were simple, but it was what they had available and they had all liked the inside joke of being different but the same. We’re all animals in the end, right?

Yunho had gotten a golden retriever onesie, Mingi a black and white husky, and she had chosen a calico cat one. They all looked adorable, they decided, getting the first real smile they could remember out of her that week as they dressed. They headed off together to Whitby Residence at a little after six, when Hong Joong had said the party was going to start. They made their way to north campus, passing others dressed for the holiday and ready to party.

They came to the front door of the large house, giving it a hard knock to ensure the sound would rise above the chatter and music they could already hear, even from outside. The door opened to reveal a happy and smiling Hong Joong who greeted all of them with enthusiastic hellos and warm hugs. He brought them inside and took them to the large shared living room, already half filled with the guests and residents of the house. He introduced them to a few people, all of whom waved and greeted the newcomers warmly before going back to what they were talking about when they had arrived.

Yunho and Mingi moved to take seats on the empty space on the couch, leaving room between them for her to sit, but, to their disappointment, she instead chose to take the old wooden dining chair stuffed near the end of the couch. It had been placed there to add seating and make sure there would be enough for everyone they expected to come eventually. The boys shared a glance and scooted closer to each other, closing the space, so they wouldn’t take up more of the couch than needed.

One of the residents joined them, making small talk as new people came and music played. It was still early and the party was just getting started. She was a pre-veterinary student who loved animals more than anything; one reason she had come to compliment their adorable costumes. Her name was Anne, but insisted on being called Annie, and was so happy to have someone to gush over how smart and amazing animals are.

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here!” The voice came from a guy who was making his way into the living room from the bedroom areas upstairs.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were staying here,” She said, standing to greet him with a brief hug. Both boys’ eyes snapped to look at her, hoping to know who he was and why she knew him.

“How do you think the test went yesterday?” He asked, sitting on the end of the coffee table near her.

“Oh, pretty well I guess,” she laughed and shrugged.

“It better have, the number of hours we spent in the library studying,” he teased. “And I think I did okay too, but I’ll wait to see what grade I get before declaring myself a success story.”

“That’s probably smart,” she agreed. “Don’t count your chickens and all.”

“Anyway, how did you come to be here?” He asked, putting a hand on her arm as he asked, sending alarm bells through Mingi and Yunho.

“I came with my roommates,” she gestured to the two boys, removing her arm from his touch as she did. “Hong Joong is in chemistry with Yunho so they’ve been studying together a lot.”

“Okay, that explains the costumes,” he laughed. “It’s really cute that you all dressed up together.” He turned towards the two boys, extending his hand to Yunho first, who was sitting nearest to her on the end of the couch. “I’m Joshua.”

“Yunho,” he said, taking the offered hand and shaking it.

“Mingi,” the other said in turn as Joshua then gave him his hand.

“Nice to meet you both,” He said with a smile. “So how did you all meet? In the dorms or…?”

“No, we've been friends since high school,” she shook her head. “But we all decided to go to the same school so we got a place together off campus.”

“Nice, nice,” Joshua complimented. “That is really cool. So you all are just friends…” he fished, pausing just long enough for anyone to object before continuing, “That’s great. Did you want a tour? I can take you to get something to drink if you want.” The invitation was clearly only for her. She looked to the boys and gave them a what’s the harm sort of shrug before standing up with a nod. The boys stared after her, not sure if they had the right to object, but they certainly didn’t feel right about it either way.

“Don’t worry,” Annie said next to them with a comforting smile. “Josh is super nice.”

“I’m sure,” Yunho said, keeping his eyes on the pair as he took her around the room as they slowly headed towards the kitchen.

“She’s like your sister, isn’t she?” Annie asked, giving Mingi a playful tap with her elbow.

“What do you mean?” Mingi asked, giving her a lost, blank look.

“You both seem really protective of her,” she explained with an understanding smile. “She’s like your sister and you want to protect her, but don’t worry. Josh is nice. He’s actually been talking about her a lot this week. She’s apparently really smart and really good with the material from the philosophy class they are both taking.”

“They’ve been studying for that together a lot, huh?” Yunho asked, hoping they would come out of the kitchen soon.

“Yeah,” Annie nodded. “He was out at the library like most of the nights this week. The material must be really hard, he doesn’t usually have to study this hard to get good grades. I am sure he is really grateful for her help.”

“Our girl is really smart,” Yunho commented, a knot of doubt forming in his stomach. Hong Joong came bounding down the stairs, another guy following closely behind, laughing at something the other had said just before they appeared. Hong Joong spotted the two boys sitting on the couch and headed their direction.

“Hey I wanted you guys to meet my roommate,” Hong Joong took the seat that she had vacated and the other boy, a tall statuesque blond with the body of a model, stood beside him, his hand resting on the back of the chair. “This is Seonghwa. Seonghwa, this is Yunho and Mingi. I think you guys have a lot in common. Yunho is who I’ve been helping with chemistry this week.”

“Oh,” Seonghwa nodded, from his tone, it was obvious that the subject had come up over the past week more than once. “Well nice to meet you. Hong Joong has said so many nice things about you.”

“Has he?” Yunho blushed, wondering what Hong Joong could possibly have said about him.

On the other side of the room they heard her laugh as she and Joshua reemerged from the kitchen, drinks in hand. Much to both Mingi and Yunho’s dismay, they headed upstairs together, rather than rejoining them.

“Oh, do you guys know Josh, too?” Hong Joong asked, following their gaze as he disappeared up the stairs with her. 

“That is his study buddy this week,” Annie filled in for them.

“Ahhhh,” both Hong Joong and Seonghwa responded, the information obviously filling in something for them.

“What?” Mingi finally asked everyone else, wanting to be let in.

“Oh he’s just been having a lot of fun studying with her,” Hong Joong waved the question away with a smile. “Apparently it’s his favorite class now. He’s had nothing but glowing praise for her this whole week.”

“He thought he was going to hate that class,” Seonghwa laughed, sending a look to Hong Joong. “And, pardon me if it's rude to say, but he probably had good reason to. It is the second time he has had to do that class since he failed it the first time. That is what happens when you don’t bother to do the homework or study because you hate the material.”

“Ouch, but true,” Annie tipped her nearly empty glass at her two housemates.

“Anyway, she seems to have gotten him to be interested in the class, so he probably owes her a lot for getting him half way through one of the required courses he needs for next year,” Seonghwa complimented them with a smile. Mingi and Yunho smiled back, even as they shifted uncomfortably in their seats, wishing they could go upstairs to check on her and her new friend.

Another knock on the door had Hong Joong bounding towards it, happy to let in the new guest who was just arriving. He opened the door, greeting whoever it was with a happy yelp. He came back in, arm around the waist of another tall and beautiful man whose face lit up when he saw Seonghwa. Seonghwa, for his part grinned, getting up to give the newcomer a hug and a long, loving kiss on the lips in greeting. Mingi stared, surprised to see the two greet each other in such an open and shameless manner in front of so many people. Beside them Annie cooed, declaring them to be the cutest couple ever as Hong Joong stepped back, taking the wooden seat again, flashing a grin to Yunho and Mingi.

Ah, this is why he wanted them to come and meet some of his friends, they had a lot in common, he had been sure. Yunho looked at Mingi whose jaw was still slightly ajar in surprise. He elbowed him to bring him back to his senses, briefly patting his thigh reassuringly. See, Yunho’s expression said, not everyone thinks that way. Mingi gave him a chagrined smile, scooting just a little closer to him. They almost didn’t notice when she came back down stairs, a new book under her arm, with Joshua behind her. They were chatting and smiling as they walked over and Yunho desperately wanted to get up and move between them but held back. 

Then, he did it; a few feet before they moved into the circle of the group Joshua put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to his side. She looked up, her eyes widening before she pulled away from him with an apologetic smile. Mingi stiffened half a second before standing up and asking Hong Joong, “Where is the bathroom?”

“Uh, upstairs,” he answered, his gaze traveling between Mingi and Yunho as he answered. Yunho’s mouth had narrowed into a tight line as Mingi stomped off, grabbing her hand and leading her upstairs before anyone could get out any words of protest. Excusing himself, Yunho stood up and calmly followed them upstairs.

Everyone watched him disappear up the stairs before turning to look at Hong Joong and Joshua, silently asking them for answers. Josh looked as baffled as the rest of them and Hong Joong only managed a shrug and, a muttered, They have a complicated relationship, I think.

Mingi pulled her into the bathroom before closing the door behind him with a little more force than intended. The slam rang through the small room followed by a pregnant silence filled by Mingi’s panting breath.

“Mingi I’m sorry--” was all she managed to get out before a knock rang out at the door.

“It’s me,” said Yunho quietly. “Let me in.” Mingi opened the door, letting him into the small space before pulling Yunho against it, using their combined bodyweight to close the door as he kissed his lips with a quick, hungry desperation. Yunho’s fingers went to the key in the door, locking it securely before putting his hands on Mingi’s waist, holding him against himself.

Mingi pulled back and turned on her. With a quick move, he lifted her off her feet, bringing her legs around his hips as he leaned in to kiss her with all the frustration that had been building in him over the last week. All of his feelings were finally coming out. The pain, confusion, the frustration that had been filling him, drop by drop with every late night she studied, and every time Yunho sat across from him at their lunches and not beside him, and every morning she rushed out with barely a goodbye, and every evening Yunho could only meet him with a sad half smile as they ate dinner without her.

 “Are you mad at me?” He asked, pulling his lips away, but letting his forehead rest against hers as he spoke.

“No, no,” she shook her head, speaking barely above a whisper.

“Then why are you punishing me,” Mingi’s voice broke as he asked, barely able to squeeze out the words.

“I’m not--” she started, cutting herself off as she had to admit, intended or not, she had been. “I just needed a little time. I’ve been busy and I needed to think about things.”

“What did you need to think about,” Yunho asked, still leaning against the bathroom door. “What did you need to think about that kept you out until the library kicked you out? What did you need to think about that made you turn away when you were going to sleep? What could possibly--” He stopped, squeezing his eyes closed to hold back the prickling threat of tears.

“I needed to think about if I was good for either of you,” she turned away from both of them as much as she could, still being held in Mingi’s arms as he stood near the sink. “If I was just a crutch that you used to justify being together...Maybe you don’t really need me but you’re both just...used to me being around.”

The room went silent. She held her breath, finally having let her deepest fear slither out of her mouth. When neither of them said anything, she pushed at Mingi’s shoulders, trying to get out of his grip so she could leave. Feeling that her worst fears were being confirmed.

“Let me go,” she pushed harder, panic welling in her chest.

“No,” Mingi said finally, one arm moving around her back to pull her against him.

“Let me down,” she sniffled, though her hands grabbed the fabric of his costume, holding it tightly as she said it. Yunho stepped forward, hugging her between them as his long arms encircled them both.

Neither of the boys had expected that from her. Though neither of them had said it, both had feared that she had gotten tired of them. That they had become too much trouble to be with. The secrets, the insecurities that too often arose whenever it wasn’t just the three of them at home, maybe it was all too much. Moving in together was supposed to make it easier, but it had just brought a new host of issues with it. But it had seemed like it never even phased her. She was always strong, always the first one to say that they would find a way to work it out.

“I’m so sorry,” Yunho breathed into her hair, tucking his head in on one side as Mingi did the same on the other.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Mingi asked, his chest tight.

“Say what?” She asked in a small, watery voice. “Am I a mistake? Are you sure you love me?”

“We’ve missed you so much,” Yunho whispered against her neck, kissing it lightly.

“Are you sure?” She asked, closing her eyes and letting a few warm tears fall.

“We need you,” Mingi insisted, pressing his face into her shoulder. Yunho’s hands pulled them both towards him, pressing all their bodies together as a desperate need came over him. This wasn’t the time or the place but, frankly, he didn’t care. His skin hurt with need and his hands itched to touch both of them. He turned to look at the door. He had locked it, but he needed to check, one time, just to be sure, before anything went any further.

He let them go and stepped to the door, jiggling the handle of the door a couple of times. Assured that it was secure, he turned around to see the two people he loved, still standing, holding each other.

“Mingi, will you help me show our girl how much we need her?” Yunho put his hands on her hips as he asked. Mingi nodded, a spark igniting in his eyes as their gazes met over her shoulder. “Here,” Yunho took her out of Mingi’s arms and put her on the small counter space there was beside the sink. It was almost the perfect height, he thought to himself, walking in between her spread thighs as he drew her into a kiss. She let out a little oh of surprise as he pressed his lips to hers, holding her head still between his hands. He ate at her mouth, stealing her breath as he bit at her lips. A small part of him wanted her to hurt like he had the past week. He knew she had too, but he needed to let it out, make sure she understood what it had all done to him.

He let go of her lips, his hand gripping her hair and moving her head to the side to expose her neck. His mouth moved to the flesh he had laid bare, his tongue licking over the pulse there. Yunho’s lips sealed over it, sucking the softness into his mouth and drawing a little breathless mewl from her lips. His teeth closed over it, not hard, but enough to leave a little ring of teeth marks around the pink spot in the center.

Pulling back, he looked at her, a blank look on her face with her eyes closed and her jaw hanging slack. “Too hard?” He asked breathlessly. She shook her head slightly, unable to move much with the grip he was still maintaining on her hair. “Mingi,” he beckoned to the other boy in the small space. “Come help me get our kitten out of her clothes.”

Mingi came to stand beside him quickly. Together they unzipped the costume, sliding the cheap fabric off her shoulders and arms so that it pooled around her hips. She was wearing a small white t-shirt under the costume, which Mingi impatiently pulled over her head, leaving her bare on the top except for her bra.

“Lift her up,” Yunho instructed, taking hold of the costume, pair of shorts, and panties, determined to remove them all at once. Mingi lifted her enough so that her weight no longer pinned the fabric between her and the counter, allowing the other boy to pull it down to her thighs before he put her down again. Yunho dropped to his knees in front of her, pulling everything off, along with her shoes, and tossed them out of the way.

His hands went to her knees, spreading her thighs and exposing her womanhood to his gaze. “Kiss her,” he commanded. “Make sure she isn’t too loud.”

Mingi nodded, turning her head to face him where he stood at the end of the counter in the space between it and the toilet. Her eyes were dazed and only half open as Mingi leaned in, his soft, plush lips meeting hers in a soft brush of skin. Yunho pulled her forward on the counter until he could reach her. Kissing his way along the inside of her thighs, he looked up to watch as Mingi took her lips, matching his movements to the other boys, starting with gentle brushes and soft pecks. When Mingi finally gave in, licking along her bottom lip, begging to deepen his kisses, Yunho used the tip of his tongue to lick a light stripe up her other lips, tasting the slick arousal that was already flowing from her body at their attentions.

She moaned into her kiss with Mingi as the fingers of one hand tangled in Yunho’s hair. Both boys let go, throwing themselves into pleasing her, showing her how much they had desperately missed her touch over the last week. Yunho lavished licks and sucks to her clit, eating at her body like he was starving, his hands holding the flesh of her hips hard enough that his nails dug into her flesh lightly, leaving small crescent marks behind when he adjusted how he was holding her.

Mingi lost himself in the moment, letting go of her lips and moving to kiss the side of her neck. His thumb caressed over the warm pink mark that Yunho had left on the other side. A strong possessive urge came over him. Joshua’s face flashed in his mind. He wanted the intruder to know she was taken, she was theirs. They shared her, they shared themselves with each other, but he wasn’t welcome. He turned her head, pulling it back so she was forced to look at the ceiling as his lips brushed the shell of her ear.

“Who do you belong to?” His voice was a low growl.

“You two,” she panted quietly.

“Say our names,” Mingi demanded before sucking a matching piece of skin into his mouth.

“Mingi and Yunho,” She did as he asked, her whole body tensing in anticipation of the feel of his teeth. As Mingi bit down, Yunho thrust his tongue inside her. Every muscle from her head to her toes strained and her breath caught in her throat. She was so close that all it took was a sudden and firm suck on her clit to throw her into an orgasm that was like a hand grasping her throat, freezing her body as she tried to gasp for breath. Yunho could see the startled look on her face in profile, reflected in the half open mirror of the medicine cabinet.

He sat back on his heels and let her relax for half a moment as Mingi kept her upright on the counter. Standing up, he brought his lips to hers, letting her taste herself.

“Do you want your turn,” Yunho asked Mingi, seeing his eyes dark with tension and desire. Mingi nodded, letting Yunho take over holding her up as he slid out of the little space he had been occupying. “You’re going to want to take off your costume.” Yunho suggested, letting her head lull back against the wall slightly. Mingi nodded, quickly stripping everything off until he was left in only his white undershirt.

“D-did you bring any condoms?” Mingi asked, as he stepped in between her spread knees.

“It’s okay,” She shook her head. “I’m safe.”

“You’re sure,” Mingi moved forward but still asked, wanting to be absolutely sure. She nodded, her hand going to his waist, sending a shiver through him with the simple caress. Mingi lined himself up with her entrance and slid inside easily with the copious amount of arousal Yunho had brought out of her with his ministrations.

“Mingi,” Yunho said, having taken the place that he had been in before at the end of the counter. “One kiss?” He offered, putting one hand at the small of his back and the other on her shoulder. Mingi nodded, turning to taste her on his lips as their tongues tangled with a desperate need. “Now fuck her. Show her how much you needed her this week.”

Mingi moaned and braced himself with his hands on her waist as he drove his hips into her with all the pent up frustration he had felt that week. The snap of flesh into flesh was audible as he drove himself into her. Yunho watched, a hand supporting each of them as Mingi let all of his emotions out as he took her. The frustration, the hurt, the loneliness; he communicated it all with his hands, his hips and his lips. Both their passions built and, while Mingi managed to bite his lip and suppress his groans of pleasure, she suddenly let out a keen, her back arching at the pleasure he was bringing her.

Yunho took the hand he had been keeping on Mingi’s back and brought it up to cover her mouth. Her eyes sprang open, flashing him an apologetic look. “Do you want everyone here to know how desperate you make us?” Yunho hissed in her ear, loud enough for Mingi to hear too. “Or is it that you want everyone downstairs to know that you belong to us, body and soul?”

She moaned into his palm, pressing it harder to her face as his words and Mingi’s thrusts drove her over the edge. Her body clenched around Mingi, the fluttering of her walls quickly driving him over the cliff of pleasure, causing him to cum inside her for the first time with no barrier between them. He held her hips still against him as he emptied himself into her body. His climax left him weak but with a sense of satisfaction deeper than he had felt before.

“Can you still take me, love?” Yunho asked, taking his hand back as Mingi caught his breath. She gave a dazed nod and Yunho stepped back, choosing to strip himself completely bare, desperate to get as much contact with her as possible. As he drew near, Mingi stepped back, finally pulling his half faded erection out of her, causing them both to shiver at the delayed sensation.

Yunho quickly stepped in, using the head of his cock to stop Mingi’s cum from slowly oozing out of her. 

“Ah-ah, gotta keep that in there. Can’t be making a mess at someone else’s place.” He teased as he slid himself into her. She tensed and shivered at his intrusion. They were both such big boys, stretching her in the best of ways. She looped her arms around his shoulders for support, her whole body feeling weak already.

“You sure you want this,” Yunho asked, one last time, holding himself still inside her body as he felt her tremble under his touch. She nodded, her head lolling against his shoulder. He felt Mingi come up behind him and place a gentle kiss against his shoulder.

“Make love to her,” Mingi gently caressed Yunho’s stomach and chest as he hugged him from behind. “Our girl is so tired, but she needs to know how much you love her. Show her she never needs to doubt that we love her.”

Yunho nodded, pulling back slowly and making his thrusts soft and deliberate. He had been so desperate for their touch he had been tempted to take her like Mingi had knowing she would have let him. But Mingi’s soft embrace cooled his anxious neediness. She still trembled under his touch as his movements teased her towards her third orgasm in the short time they had stolen into the bathroom. 

Mingi could feel Yunho’s heart pounding in his chest as his palm pressed him back against his chest as the other boys hips kept their deliberate and controlled pace. “Tell her what’s in your heart,” Mingi urged, trailing kisses along Yunho’s neck and shoulder.

“I need you both,” Yunho whined. “When I don’t have you both there a little piece of me dies. I don’t know what I’d do if you left me.”

“I won’t go,” she promised, her teeth chattering as she spoke, lifting her head enough to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I won’t leave either of you.”

“We were always meant to be three,” Mingi said from behind. Yunho nodded, holding her head against his shoulder as Mingi matched his thrusts into her. She felt another orgasm building in her with an almost painful intensity. It rushed over her, stealing the air from her lungs as she felt her body clench around Yunho. She squeezed her eyes closed as her body quickly became overwhelmed by the continued sensations.

Yunho pulled her body against his as she squirmed briefly before her whole body quivered and she went limp against him. He felt her body milk him and with a few more thrusts he came inside her, his emissions mixing with Mingi’s deep inside. It was the most satisfied he had ever felt and he wished they were somewhere that would let him bask in this moment for as long as he wanted, but reality came crashing down on him. He felt Mingi step away, wisely gathering a little toilet paper from nearby to clean them up.

“Umm, can you open the lid?” Yunho motioned to the toilet, which currently had the lid down. Mingi did as he asked, and Yunho carefully pulled himself out of her body, quickly using the paper in his hand to keep her from leaking onto the bathroom floor. With Mingi’s assistance, he set her on the toilet so that he could clean himself up and give her a moment to recover before they would work on getting her presentable again.

Both boys redressed and carefully located all her clothes while she sat on the toilet, too tired at the moment to do the same. She had leaned herself against the coolness of the porcelain, letting her head rest against the wall behind it.

Yunho dampened some paper, cleaning between her legs as gently as he could, while Mingi carefully slipped the shirt back on over her head. When she was clean, they both worked the rest of her clothes on her. Though she still felt weak, she was able to stand as they pulled everything on her lower half. The boys made a quick effort to clean up the bathroom and set everything as it had been when they came in. They wiped down the counter and splashed their faces, hoping that it wouldn’t be terribly obvious what they had all just spent the last while doing.

“I’ll take her,” Yunho offered, kneeling down to let her climb on his back for a piggyback ride and allowing Mingi to lead the way back downstairs.

“Do you need something to drink?” Mingi asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She nodded and he headed to the kitchen to get them drinks and snacks as Yunho bravely carried her back to the seating area where everyone was basically where they had left them.

Hong Joong gave them a worried look as Yunho carefully let her down off his back before taking a seat in the empty spot and pulling her into the cradle of his lap.

“Is everything okay,” Hong Joong asked as he watched Yunho guide her head to rest on his shoulder, sitting limp and quiet.

“We just needed to work something out,” Yunho explained without really explaining anything. Mingi returned with snacks and drinks and squeezed himself in next to Yunho, handing her a drink before lifting her feet onto his lap and putting an arm around Yunho’s shoulders.

“Can you eat a little?” Mingi asked, reaching to bring the food he had brought to rest on her legs in his lap. She nodded and he picked up a little piece of food, putting it in her lips with a soft coo of our good girl. 

Seonghwa cleared his throat, watching them from his seat between Hong Joong and his boyfriend. “So, I didn’t get to ask before, but how do you all know each other?”

“We met a while ago at summer camp,” Yunho started, turning his head to the side to look at Mingi who gave him a shy but beautific smile. “We just clicked and we’ve sort of been a thing since then.”

“Like all three of you?” Joshua asked, looking between all of them.

“Yeah,” Mingi leaned his head on Yunho’s shoulder as he picked up another piece of food and fed it to him. Yunho looked at the questioner and pulled her closer to his chest, still feeling a flare of territoriality over their kitten. He stared him in the eye as he pressed a kiss against the top of her head.

“You really meant it when you said things were complicated, didn’t you,” Hong Joong said, his mouth twitching as he suppressed a laugh, finally starting to understand things. “So that’s why you all decided to go to the same school.”

“We belong together,” Yunho shrugged. “Isn’t that right, kitten?”

“Mmmm,” she nodded, taking a sip of her drink. Turning slightly in his lap, she made an effort to face the rest of the group as she leaned back against his shoulder.

“I’m…so jealous,” Annie sighed from the other side of Mingi, making everyone laugh.

“Me, too,” Hong Joong noted. “You should see the welcome home they all get from each other. Then you’ll really know the meaning of the word.”

“Ugh, so unfair,” Annie turned her eyes on Seonghwa and his boyfriend, narrowing them as she did. “Why are all the good ones either gay and/or taken? I am going to be alone forever.”

Everyone laughed and lapsed into conversations about life and school as the party continued around them. Hong Joong had been right when he said he knew people they would have a lot in common with. 

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part 25) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±6900 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 25: Y/N and Dean struggle with the aftermath of their split. Working together proves to be difficult, but other relationships within the ranch family took a hit as well. When the cowboy thinks the day can’t get much worse, complications arise, forcing him to make yet another difficult decision. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff,  angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak, slowburn. Crying, nightmares, childhood  trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of  addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of  blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: (opening scene) The Eye - Brandi Carlile. (Ride with Meadow scene) Home - Hans Zimmer. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Beta’d by my mom (yes, you read that right. My mom reads my stuff and is on Tumblr). Thank you, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​​, @kittenofdoomage​​, @manawhaat​​, @waywardbeanie​​, @atc74​​​​​, and @winchest09​​​​​ for helping me with this story. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999​​​​​, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam​​​​​, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     With frustrated motions, Y/N stuffs her clothes into a bag, not even bothered to sort the items out. Her cheeks are tear-stained once again and she wipes at them angrily. Stop crying, it won’t get you anywhere, she scolds herself, done with feeling this emotional. After all, today is Monday, just another day at the ranch, and they have a lot of work to do. Garth and Ellen did the necessary stable work, but the horses which are usually trained by Jo, Dean, and herself had three days off while their riders were in Flagstaff. 

     Dean. Just the name reverberating in her head forces her to pause her actions. She dips her chin, closes her eyes, and takes a breath. Why? That’s the question she keeps asking herself. Why did he break up with her? Why did he pretend to care, only to hurt her the way he did? Why has he become so bitter, so selfish, so unlike the man she thought he was?

     The questions remain unanswered, and she doesn’t expect they will give her any consolation either. That was the whole issue to begin with, wasn’t it? He can’t be honest. Apparently, he doesn’t think she’s capable of bearing the load he is meant to share with his partner. Apparently, she’s not good enough. Just like she didn’t meet her first boyfriend’s standards, who got tired of her spending more time with her horses than with him. Her second relationship ended in a fiasco as well, this time it was his jealousy of her success that caused the split. Yesterday proved that the third time clearly isn’t a charm. But neither of her previous significant others ever caused a cataclysm as the one Dean has left behind. Her heart is a wasteland now.

     “Are you leaving?”      She’s pulled away from her thoughts by Jo’s voice, her tone matching the horrified expression on her face. She stands in the doorway, looking down at the open suitcase on the floor and the unzipped bag. All of a sudden, Y/N realizes what the scene must look like.      “No. I’m just sorting out my washing,” she says quickly.      “Oh…” the blonde cowgirl sighs, relieved. “For a second there I thought--”      “I won’t let your scumbag cousin chase me away, Jo,” her friend assures her.

     Truth be told, though, she has been thinking about it. Last night she had typed down her information on a booking website, ready to confirm her flight back to Freeport, but as her finger hovered over the ‘confirm’ button, she closed the tab and slammed her laptop closed. The intern came here on a mission. She is going to prove to her parents and to herself that she has what it takes to run her own ranch and that she deserves that business loan. She is not going to abort just because her heart is broken, come hell or high water.

     “Well, good. I would have roped you like a cow and tied you to the saddle anyway,” Jo scoffs, leaning against the doorframe. 

     The cowgirl chuckles as she collects the last of her dirty laundry, zips up the bag, and puts it on the bed. The sight of the not-particularly comfortable mattress has her wishing she could crawl back under the covers and get some much-needed sleep. That’s not an option, however, and so she takes her hat from the corner bedpost and places it on her head. Before she goes out, she quickly checks her makeup in the mirror, but thankfully her tears haven’t smudged her waterproof eyeliner and mascara, and her foundation is still covering the bags under her eyes. It’s been a while since she hid behind the beauty-products, but the confidence Dean gave her has disappeared the second he ended their relationship, so she put her mask back on. There is no way she will give her ex-boyfriend the satisfaction of witnessing just how broken she is.

     Y/N inhales deeply and squares her shoulders, lifting her chin as she stares at her reflection. The woman who looks back at her is fierce and resilient; the complete opposite of the little girl that’s hiding inside. Of course, she doesn’t want to face the day nor the man who hurt her, but she is left with no choice. There is so much more at stake here; her future, her career. This is business, and she will treat it as such. Y/N glances at Jo, giving her a nod, and her friend smiles faintly doing the same.

     Rubbing his tired eyes, Dean pours himself his third cup of coffee. Saying that he had a rough night, is putting it mildly. The first digit of his alarm clock had already changed into a ‘2’ when he finally drifted off, only to jolt awake an hour and a half later, his bedsheets clinging to his sweat-covered skin. For the first time in years, a nightmare has caused havoc, images of his worst memories coming through cracks in the walls he built around all that childhood trauma. After freshening up, he laid in bed again while last night’s events alternated with those same disturbing scenes he saw in his dreams, the sad motion picture of sorrow and heartbreak projected on the ceiling. He gave up on sleeping around four-thirty in the morning, got dressed, and sat out on the porch until the sun came up. But no matter how hard he focused on the sounds of the night that tried to soothe him, he couldn't get her out of his mind. The pain laced in her desperate voice, the tears that fell because of him. But after those hurtful images, he also remembers that bright smile, her giggles, the sparkle in her eyes when she has achieved something. Her tenderness, her touch… It hasn’t even been twelve hours and he’s already craving Y/N, fighting an addiction for a drug he can never have again. The girl who is no longer his Yankee.

     A door squeaks and Dean glances aside, immediately redirecting his gaze back to the coffee mug on the small kitchen counter when Y/N comes into view, followed suit by Jo. Instantly, the tension in the living room shoots through the roof, the crooked, little bunkhouse barely able to maintain the strain. He doesn’t say anything, but thankfully Garth and Benny do exchange a ‘good morning’ with the girls, the silence interrupted by the casual exchange. 

     He spots her perfectly applied makeup, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail that doesn’t  allow a single strand to escape the rubber band. Her shirt is neatly tucked into her jeans, ironed and spotless, just like the day when she arrived at the ranch. Even though she looks breathtaking, the vision saddens him; she’s back to being the woman who needs to have everything under control. He gets it, though, because when she took his advice to loosen up, she let her guard down. If she had kept both hands on the reins, Y/N would have never allowed him to get so close and comfortable. Dean only made things worse for her, and now she was left to pick up the pieces of all that he broke.

     Without saying a word, he grabs his coffee and pushes the door handle down to make his exit, not wanting to make her life more difficult than he already has.

     Ultimately, this Monday was bound to get worse with every passing minute. Dean decided to get an early start before breakfast and got on the tractor, but when the ranch hand tried to back up in order to drag the arena, he couldn't get the old John Deere into reverse. A glance underneath soon determined why and he exclaimed a loud ‘fuck!’ when he detected the puddle of gearbox-oil on the dusty ground. Turning the fresh horses out only added to his agitation, especially when the youngsters stirred up the palomino stallion Led while the wrangler was hand-walking him. The Quarter is still recovering from the nasty tendon injury he suffered on the job, and isn’t supposed to be bouncing off the concrete like a rubber ball on a leash, but tell that to an energetic horse who has barely been out of his box for the past month. Garth readied a horse for his boss, which he managed to ride before breakfast, but Dean was unfocused and gave up after thirty minutes.

     Now, they were all quietly eating their breakfast, the delicious meal giving them some consolation. Ellen observes the awfully silent crew, exchanging a look with her daughter, who with a slow shake of her head tells her mother to not bring it up, and so she doesn’t. The head wrangler is the first to get up from his seat, rinse his plate in the sink, and return to the stables. The others follow his example, the barn soon buzzing with activity. 

     Y/N works like a dog, mucking out the stable in record time without pausing. It’s a good distraction for her reeling mind, the hard labor ridding her of the frustration that boils her blood whenever she thinks of the man who ruined her faith in true love. Garth, sensing that the intern was fine on her own, took the tough job of raking the arena by hand, since machinery has let them down. Meanwhile, Jo and Dean train the animals as per usual, but there’s no bantering between them during the cool down. In fact, the wrangler’s cousin has decided to ignore him altogether. 

     Getting more irritated with every second passing, the horseman dismounts the six-year-old gelding named Santana, deciding that a light workout is enough for today. The wrangler is always careful to not let his emotions bleed into his work, but he’s finding it difficult to keep himself in check. Jo has already parked her horse next to the bay Quarter and has tacked down the buckskin without granting Dean a look. He sighs; Jo is not easily going to forgive him for hurting her friend, but he still tries to break the stifling silence.

     “Can you pass me the water?” he asks, nodding at the yellow garden hose that’s rolled up by the faucet.      Without even granting him a look, the ranch owner’s daughter throws the showerhead in his direction, the nozzle clattering on the tiles in front of Dean’s feet. He sighs, annoyed.      “So this is how it’s gonna be?” he scoffs. “I get that you’re mad, but you can at least t--”      “I have nothing to say to you,” she snaps. 

     It’s not the first time Jo is angry with him, because the two have a habit of getting on each other’s nerves. This time it’s different, though, and the bitterness in her tone sends a clear message that he has burned his bridges. Gritting his teeth, he lets the comment slide, deciding that it’s useless to fire back a counter. She has a solid point after all; he doesn’t deserve her sympathy in the slightest. Figuring that these will be the only words they exchange for at least a couple of days, the cowboy begins to hose down Santana, when Jo turns on her heels with her horse’s lead rope in one hand and her fist firmly planted on her waist.      “You know what? I do have something to say. You just don’t get to speak in return,” she kicks off, about to unleash her wrath.      Dean lifts his gaze from the dirt and sweat that he’s washing out of his horse’s coat, for the first time looking into his cousin’s fiery eyes. The petit cowgirl, who is easily nine inches shorter than the man before her, is intimidating nonetheless. He takes a breath, bracing himself for impact. Here it comes.

     “You’re a cold-hearted, spineless, self-absorbed dick, know that? For once in your life, you’ve got something good goin’, someone who was willing to look past your gigantic ego and your daddy issues, yet the first thing you do when life gets tough, is drop her like a hot potato. Do you have any idea how much pain you’ve caused the poor girl? Because I do! She wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but she cried for hours, hours, and that’s on you! Guess who had to comfort her, huh?” Jo goes off. “I am so far past mad; I am furious! I really thought you had finally found a reason to change into something better than the abbreviated piece of nothing that you are now, but it seems like Y/N wasn’t the only one who was naive.”      “You done?” the wrangler says coldly when she pauses to catch her breath.      “Go hump a cactus, Dean,” she sneers.

     With those words, Jo strides away, the large animal next to her obediently following her, well aware that now is not the time to be stubborn. The man who’s left with the poignant insults still echoing inside his head, pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth, staring at his feet for a second before he sniffs and focuses on the task at hand again. He might have pretended that her message left him unbothered, but the opposite is true. Jo could as well slap him across the face; it would hurt less. 

     Defeated, the wrangler takes Santana to his box and removes the halter from the large animal’s head. The sweet horse seeks contact, nudging her nose against Dean’s shoulder. He rubs the Quarter’s withers before he exits the stable, appreciating the only kindness that he’s received so far this morning.

     “Dean?”      He tenses, not expecting his name to fall off the lips of the woman who he parted from only yesterday. When the cowboy meets her gaze, the look Y/N gives him is as cold as the tone of her voice.      “I need a word,” she says, although it sounds more like a demand.      “S - sure,” he stutters, glancing down briefly before he looks back up again, suddenly nervous. He’s not sure if he can handle being scolded by his ex-girlfriend as well.      “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to work together anymore,” she states formally. “I’d like a new supervisor.”

     Dean cocks his head back slightly, unbalanced by the appeal. He rubs his temple, averting his eyes but then nods, acknowledging that she’s probably right, even though the request is a painful one.      “Yeah, uh - sure. I’ll ask Garth,” he stammers, estimating that he would be the obvious choice since she’s so close with Jo. He wouldn’t want their friendship to be tainted by the difference in rank.      “Okay,” the intern responds, her expression stark and strained, before she walks past him.

     Motionless, the head wrangler remains on his spot, setting his jaw and closing his eyes for a second. Somehow, he didn’t expect their first exchange to be strictly business. Her stance is so different from what he’s grown used to. Even on the night they met when she gave him a hard time, the tension between them didn’t feel as heavy as it does now. He realized when he called it quits that she would struggle with his decision, but Jo’s confirmation that she spent most of last night crying over their separation has him desperate to ease the pain.

     “Y/N…” he says softly while turning before she’s too far gone to pick up on his voice.      “I have work to do,” she cuts off, shooting him a short glare over her shoulder.

     Dean swallows thickly while watching her leave, fast and determined strides taking her as far away from him as possible. Damn it, he really did ruin his chances of even maintaining any sort of a friendship, didn’t he? He’s not sure what else he expected after the way they parted, but despite the loathing and vexed look she just shot him that feels like a bullet to the heart, he’s glad. Let her be angry, let her hate him. It will be easier for her to deal with those emotions, than just the overwhelming sense of sadness. He knows, because he hasn’t felt this devastated, empty, and incomplete since his family fell apart; he’s talking from experience.      Wishing the day was over already, the cowboy adjusts his hat and gets back to work, hoping that riding will offer him the therapy he so desperately needs.

     Unfortunately, the day doesn’t pass by nearly as fast as Dean would like to. After riding five horses, he, Benny, and Garth use their lunch break to look at the beat-up tractor that once again has let them down. The head wrangler doesn’t mind skipping his midday meal; he would rather avoid sitting across from Y/N in a room overflowing with awkwardness, plus, he’s not hungry anyway. 

     The machine from 1979 was bound to die on the crew sooner than later, but after the farrier slash mechanic discovers metal particles in the gearbox fluid, it becomes clear that a simple oil change isn’t going to cut it this time.      “Yep, she’s toast,” Benny sighs, wiping his dirty hands with a cloth.      “Just what we need,” his friend grunts. He’s not looking forward to his uncle’s response to the setback. “I’ll tell Bobby.”      “I can if you want me to,” the stable boy - who is also responsible for the machinery - offers.      Dean purses his lips slightly, his thumbs hooked through the belt loops of his jeans while he stares at the old John Deere absently. “Nah, I’ll do it. I got a question for you, though. Do you mind supervising Y/N from now on?”      Garth shakes his head, taking in his boss, somewhat confused. “No, not at all.”      “Good,” the wrangler replies quickly, thankful that the slender employee takes on the task without question. The clueless young man didn’t pick up on the relationship between Dean and the intern to begin with, and he would rather keep him in the dark, especially now that it has ended. He knocks on the rusty hood of the tractor before he heads off. “I’ll see y’all in a bit. Can you start rolling out the hay to the pastures with the wheelbarrows? It’s gonna take a hell of a lot longer without this old thing.”

     The shade inside the stables is welcoming, and not just because it offers cooler temperatures. Dean’s eyes are still painfully sore from the lack of sleep and he rubs at them again, trying to stop them from burning. Shit, and it’s only Monday, he sighs to himself. The three-day event over the weekend means no time off for the employees who attended. The last time he didn’t have to show up at seven in the morning or earlier was late September, which means that he has been working twelve-hour plus shifts for fourteen days straight now. Work never stops on a ranch. The horses depend on him; they will always need food, a clean stable and exercise, no matter how tired, lovesick, or miserable he is. 

     The cafeteria is already empty. His aunt is probably at the guesthouses to change the sheets and towels, giving the accommodations a quick once-over. However, he finds a post-it on the long table with his name on it; ‘Don’t forget to eat. Bacon sandwiches are in the fridge - Ellen’. As the cowboy smiles for the first time today, he wonders if Bobby has told his wife anything about John’s unexpected visit in Flagstaff, hoping that he hasn’t. Knowing his aunt, she’s going to sit him down for some sweet tea and a talk, even though previous attempts of having a conversation as such proved to be unsuccessful. He appreciates her concern, though, the idea of his surrogate mom caring about him offering Dean some solace.

     The wrangler walks through the high barn doors on the other side, the sun doing its very best to cheer him up, but the rays don’t reach his soul. He makes his way to the Singer’s home, reckoning he will find Bobby there. As per usual, Dean takes off his hat and hangs it on the coat hanger, kicking off his boots before he proceeds to the office in the back of the house. After knocking, he pushes the door ajar, finding his uncle behind his desk. The place is still a mess, but the occupant’s features aren’t draped in shadows like the last time he was here. The blinders are open, the window a passe-partout of the Joshua tree, together with the paddocks and pastures surrounding it. 

     The rancher looks up when his nephew enters. “Hey, son. How’s the tractor comin’?”      “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s fried. The oil is swimming with debris,” Dean tells, taking a seat on the other side of the desk.      “Metal?” Bobby questions. When the young man across from him nods, he curses. “Balls!”

     Dean presses his lips into a firm line, keeping still in the worn chair to prevent it from squeaking. His uncle seemed to be in a good mood after the successful show, but he can tell that this setback has put a strain on the old man’s frame of mind. 

     “You’re gonna call the service station?” the head wrangler wonders.      “No, that’s gonna cost us. We finally managed to make some money, I ain’t planning on spending it on that damned thing.” The rancher adjusts his ball cap before leaning back in his chair. “You boys can give it a go first, open up that gearbox, see what’s broken. I’ll order parts once you figure out what’s wrong with that piece of shit.”

     Scribbling something down on a piece of paper, Bobby sighs, but then returns his focus to Dean. “There’s somethin’ else I need to discuss with you.”      His right-hand raises his eyebrows slightly, his interest peaked. “What’s that?”      “It’s about Cain,” his uncle murmurs. “Apparently MacLeod didn’t tell the entire story.”      Dean scoffs, shaking his head. “Should I be surprised? I’m not sure what kinda vibes you picked up from that shady dude, but I sure as hell don’t trust him for the life of me.”      “I don’t either. That’s why I think we should reconsider that deal.” Bobby rests his elbows on the armrests of his chair, forking his fingers together in his lap. He expected some resistance from Dean, but not such a strong reaction as his nephew fires back.

     “What?! Are you serious?” he counters, perplexed. “You’re just gonna wipe it off the table?”      “Not ‘just’, but we need to consider our options,” his boss returns.      “How many options do we have exactly? Because the way I see it, this arrangement is a pretty damn good one. It’s good money, a steady income with the prospect of a huge bonus, not to mention what doors it might open for the future. This horse might be the break we need,” Dean advocates, remembering Y/N’s words clearly when she summed up all the possibilities that Cain might bring with him. “Look, I know Fergus is a proper dick, but he has a reputation to protect. There’s too much at stake for him, and I don’t believe he will double-cross us. If we deliver, he’s gonna pay good bucks.”      “And that’s where we might have a problem; actually delivering,” Bobby returns, taking in his head wrangler.      Dean draws his head back, slightly hurt, frowning at his uncle’s words. “You don’t think I can get the job done?”      “I’m not sure if anyone can, son,” the owner of the Gold Canyon Ranch states calmly. “The horse doesn’t just have ‘some behavioral issues’, as Fergus put it. He’s unapproachable, unpredictable, aggressive. That stallion is dangerous to everyone in a square mile radius. Jody rang me this morning to warn us.”      “Jody?” the cowboy returns, puzzled. He’s aware that the female rancher knows a lot of people in this business, but he didn’t expect the news of the famous stallion’s arrival would spread so fast. “How did she even know that Cain was coming to us?”      “Because MacLeod is a client of hers. Cain is currently in her stables.”

     Dean’s eyebrows hit his hairline, emerald greens staring over the desk at the man on the other side. While gaping at his uncle, questions begin to race through his mind. Jody did business with Fergus? Jody is a good trainer with excellent judgment, so if she claims Cain is untrainable, that says something. Their last conversation in Flagstaff comes to mind, the news about Gabe’s hospitalization shocking him at the time. Could his friend’s injuries be the stallion’s doing?

     Bobby watches his trusted worker process the information, rolling his chair a little closer and resting his forearms on the varnished wood, closing his hand over his fist. “I know this complicates things, but I’m gonna leave it up to you. If you think you can handle the stallion, I will trust your judgment. But I don’t want you to risk your neck for the money, Dean. We will find another way.”

     The horseman chews on his lip as he ponders, his focus capturing nothing in particular as his eyes flick over the items and documents on the desk. “We’ll have a week to evaluate him. I’ll make the call after that,” he decides. “Mind if I contact Jody to get some insight on what I’m up against?”      “Knock yourself out,” Bobby consents. “Just leave the numbers that we agreed to out of it.”      “Will do.” 

     Dean gets up from his seat, pushing the chair closer to the desk before he intends to slip out of the office before he’s stopped by his boss.      “One more thing,” the wise man says, looking over his enclosed hands. “What’s going on with you and the intern?”

     Caught, the head wrangler freezes, eyes wide with shock and pure horror staring into the hallway. Shit. How the hell is he going to answer that? Is he referring to the dance at the opening night of the horse show or the palpable tension that has surrounded the former couple whenever they were in close range of each other? Dean doesn’t know, but he has the feeling that the continuation of this conversation is going to be anything but pleasant. Composing himself before he turns back to face his uncle.

     “Nothin’. What do you mean?” He shrugs as the corners of his mouth draw down, pretending to be careless.      “Don’t play dumb, boy. I was born at night, but not last night.” Bobby glares at him knowingly. “Are you messin’ around with her?”      “No,” Dean says firmly, the truth in his words hurting him deep down.      His uncle lifts his chin, holding the cowboy’s gaze while narrowing his eyes. It’s clear that he’s not buying. “You wanna explain then why you two were like two peas in a pot in Flagstaff, but can’t even look at each other now?”

     With his hand still on the door handle, his nephew attempts to keep his act together, but then he sighs. Damn it, he was so close to making it out of this meeting alive. Oh well, what’s one more lecture, right?

     “Look, there’s nothing going on, not anymore. I - uh, I got carried away and I shouldn’t have let it,” he admits. “I broke it off. It won’t happen again.”      “Is this gonna be a problem?” his boss asks sternly. “If you two can’t work together--”      “It isn’t. Garth will supervise her from now on. Just to prevent any issues in the future,” he continues, hoping the fact that they actually discussed how to carry on as colleagues from this point forward will put the concern to rest.

     “There better be a future for her here on this ranch. I can’t afford to lose a free worker, especially not one as skilled as she is,” Bobby warns, not convinced. “I’d pray that she won’t pack her bags if I were you, ‘cause I’ll give ya one guess who’s gonna have to work twice as hard and whose ass I’m gonna bust.”      “She won’t leave,” his head wrangler guarantees, willing to bet his life on it. 

     His promise might seem based on a hopeful hunch, but Y/N hasn’t given Dean any indication to question her professionalism. She even approached him in order to change the conditions of her internship, which couldn’t have been easy for her. Their interaction will be minimized and strictly business from now on, something he reckons she will handle much more gracefully than he will, simply because she has a bigger purpose to focus on. This placement is a stepping stone to her dream of owning her own ranch, and that goal hasn’t changed. He knows she won’t leave Gold Canyon.

     Bobby observes his nephew, still bothered by the fact that he didn’t listen to him when he specifically told the bachelor not to get involved with the intern. He’s going to save the rant for another time, though, the sight of an already dejected man before him having him hold back. It seems like this is doing a number on young fellow, and considering how they were with each other at the horse show this weekend, he’s not surprised. The two reminded him of his twenties when he first got together with his Ellen. The boy is hurting, more than he lets on.      “Alright then. Get goin’, I’ve got bills to pay,” he eventually says, shooing Dean out with a flick of the wrist.

     Relieved that his uncle is cutting him some slack, he nods and silently pulls the door shut, putting a barrier between himself and the conversation he has been dreading for weeks. If only he could be able to tell Bobby that he’s with the girl he’s in love with; he would have taken the grumpy rebuke with a grin on his face. If only.

     While stepping outside, the cowboy pulls his cellphone from his jeans pocket, looking up Jody Mills’ number in his contacts. He begins to slowly stroll back and forth on the porch in its sheltering shade, the floorboards moaning and cracking under his boots as he waits with his Nokia pressed against his ear. The steady tone beeps twice before his friend picks up.      “Hey,” it sounds from the other side of the line. “I was hoping you’d call.”      “Yeah, Bobby told me about Cain,” he returns. “Kinda complicates things, don’t it?”      “I need to listen to me very carefully,” Jody starts, earnest and worried. “Do not take that horse into your stable.”

     The cowboy sighs, glancing over the land while hooking his thumb behind his belt. He figured the female rancher would try to convince him to back off.      “It’s good money, Jody, and I’ve handled difficult cases before. Cain deserves a shot. I have to try.”      “I get it, but hear me out. If Fergus offered you a deal that seems too good to be true, that’s because it is. I know you’re an excellent trainer, hell, the best that I know. But I’m telling you, we’re not talking about a stallion with some authority issues here. That horse is twisted, has wires crossed. I have never seen such behavior,” she presses. “So many people have tried to straighten him out already. I did some digging, and Fergus’ supposedly ‘million dollar prospect’ has moved in and out nine different stables over the past year. No one has succeeded.”

     He ponders, not taking her warning lightly. Jody is an experienced equestrian who has dealt with many tough animals. She even passed some horses on to him when she couldn’t get through to them. The woman is well aware of the limits to her expertise and has always been honest with clients when a horse was too much for her to handle, but never before has she doubted that the wrangler from the Gold Canyon Ranch could do the job.

     “When Gabe got hurt, was it…?” Dean wonders, hesitant, not finishing his sentence.      “It was Cain.”

     He sets his jaw, the muscles flexing under his stubble. Although he assumed it was the stallion who has put his former colleague into the hospital, it still shocks him. He continues to pace the deck in front of the Singer’s home.      “How is he doing?” he wonders.      Jody pulls in a deep breath, the message she’s about to deliver clearly a difficult one. “He’s never gonna walk again. Paralyzed from the waist down.”

     Dean closes his eyes and swallows thickly. It’s the outcome they all feared, but hearing the confirmation makes his gut churn. Losing one's legs is a nightmare for everyone, but for a rider? He can’t possibly picture it, becoming wheelchair-bound. Honestly, he would rather die than to never be able to get in the saddle again.

     “Dean, I know you believe every horse deserves a second chance, but please, let this one go. He is beyond repair. I’m not asking, I’m begging,” she pleads, a tremor in her voice. “If you take on Cain, it’s only a matter of time before you get hurt, or worse.” 

     The words are backed up by a heavy silence. The two stay quiet for a while, the words sinking in with the wrangler. Flight animals fueled by fear can do either two things; run or attack. If getting away from the supposed threat is impossible, they tend to go for the last. It’s not something the horse will even think about; it’s a survival instinct. When a naturally kind creature takes a turn like that, it becomes a thousand-pound killing machine. If Cain is truly that far gone, it is likely that he is indeed beyond saving. The trainer has to see it for himself, though, and not just because the ranch can use the cash. He realizes that if he doesn’t take on this task, someone else will, someone with less experience. If this stallion is really that lethal, the next novice trainer might make an error of judgment that will be his or her last. At least Dean has the skills. It seems like he is Cain’s last resort, because if he isn’t trainable, he will get the bullet at some point. He wouldn’t be the first horse to be put down because of similar problems.

     “Thanks for the warning, Jody,” he responds after a long pause. “I’ll keep it in mind.”      “Dean--”      “I know. I know what you’re gonna say, but if I don’t do this, who knows what might happen to him. I’ve got a week to decide if we wanna go through with it. That’s the least I can do.”      He can hear his friend grunt, frustrated, probably realizing that changing his mind was a long shot to begin with. “Just… be careful, okay?”      “I will, promise,” Dean assures. “Talk to you later.”

     The cowboy hangs up, staring at his phone for a few more seconds before he puts it away and steps out into the sun, heading back to the stables. The admonition continues to ring in his ears, and he allows the caution to imprint the decisions he needs to make in the upcoming days. After all, warned is forearmed.

     Y/N wishes anyone had warned her how painful it is to have her heart broken by the person who made it beat just for him. Maybe she would have been more mindful then, more guarded. Maybe she wouldn’t have let him have it, had she known how careless he would be.

     Around 5 o’clock, her new supervisor said it was okay if she wanted to take her own horse for a ride. Normally she trains Meadow either before or after shift, but she got all the work done at record speed, desperate for a distraction, that all her daily tasks were fulfilled two hours before dinner. Maybe Garth detected that she needed some alone-time with her four-legged friend, because he suggested the ride with a sympathetic smile and a kind nudge, sending her towards the Quarter’s box.

     After straightening out the saddle pad, the cowgirl tightens the cinch. Meadow, who can be a bit of a grumpy mare when it comes to tacking up, stands still without moving a muscle, allowing her owner to ready her for a ride without pulling a prank like she usually does. Sometimes the cheeky horse will try to fish Y/N’s phone from her back pocket, nibble at her hat or her sleeve, or refuse to take a step aside when requested, but not today. Maybe she can sense that such an action could set her human off. 

     The horse accepts the bit when the cowgirl offers it to her, after which she pulls the headpiece over Meadow’s black-tipped ears, securing the straps skillfully. She sniffles, wiping her nose and forcing herself to keep her composure a little while longer. In a few minutes, when she’s away from prying eyes, she will allow to let the tears flow again, but not now, not yet.

     Y/N unties her horse, places her left foot in the stirrup, and swings her right leg over the back of her bay mare, softly landing in the saddle. Picking up the reins, she steers her horse away from the tack up area, the smooth leather between her fingers giving her a sense of control that she’s missing in her love life. 

     Instead of leading Meadow towards the arena, the rider guides her towards the gate that leads to the trail. Her horse had an eventful weekend and gave it her all in competition, so it wouldn’t be fair to put her through a full workout. The performance took a lot out of the willing horse who never seizes to bring her best efforts and more. Even though the freestyle only lasted minutes, the athlete peaked with a brilliant execution of the routine, which takes a lot of skill and strength. Then there’s the ambiance of a show, the new environment, all the sensory overload. The combination of all those factors did a number the Quarter, and she deserves a calm and relaxing ride, much like the young woman she’s carrying on her back. Y/N is in no state to train, well aware that the heightened emotions will get the best of her if something might not work out the way she planned, and that’s not something she wants her companion to bear the consequences of. If anything, Meadow has been absolutely wonderful, seeming to understand that her person is sad and needs someone to lean on.

     After closing the fence behind them, the girl and her horse follow the path that leads towards the hills. Cacti flank the road ahead towards the Superstition Mountains, which stand tall in the backdrop. The beautiful amber colored volcanic rock formations seem even more vibrant now that the setting sun blesses nature with a warm glow. The vegetation is much greener than it was when they searched for the herd of youngsters in the reservoir. Autumn is here, and within a couple of months, the ridges that reach for the sky will be covered in snow. It’s supposed to be a beautiful sight, at least that’s what Dean told her.

     Now that it’s just her and Meadow, Y/N finally allows the suppressed tears to fall. The battle she has been fighting all day is one she knew she would lose eventually, she just wanted to be with her most faithful friend when the levee breaks. She doesn’t even intend to wipe the drops of despair away, knowing that she has to let it out now in order to keep up the facade later. And so the last rays of the day catch the shimmering pathways down her cheeks, similar to how the water cobbled at Willow’s Creek, where she and Dean shared their first kiss. All the memories, those perfect little moments that she thought to cherish forever, they are worth nothing now. It was all just a dream.

     Y/N transits into a slow canter, hoping that the wind in her face will chase the sorrow away. She has to feel something completely opposite to the grief that is ripping her apart. She needs to experience freedom and the bond that comes along with this unique partnership between her and Meadow, the simplicity of moving across the desert like men and their horses have been doing so for centuries. No engines, no computers, no engineering. Just two souls of completely different species merging as one. 

     Resting her free hand on her horse’s neck and gripping the black mane, she pushes her heels into the Quarter’s flanks, aiding her to pick up speed. The bay mare takes over, her rider is no longer in control, but she no longer has to be. Y/N doesn’t need to direct this movie, because she trusts Meadow with her life. If there is any being on the face of the planet that she would follow blindly, it’s her companion. Meadow has never let her down, not once, and her owner knows there will never come a moment when she will. And so she breathes in, welcoming the wind to fill her lungs with newfound courage, brought on by the majestic animal that gallops across the landscape, carrying Y/N on her wings. 

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if   you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog   my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-six here

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Cowboy - Part 6

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you���re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol) — suggestive content awaits in this part.

Word count: 2344

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

“I’m sorry, you want me to do what now?” you asked when you answered the front door the following morning, your gaze travelling to the two horses tied up near the house. You laughed nervously and shook your head. “No, no. Just because we had a friendly excursion together yesterday doesn’t mean I’m quite ready for this.”

“It’s not that scary, I promise.”

“Tell that to someone who wanted to ride a pony as a kid. I didn’t. I was an inside only and play with dolls, type of girl.”

“You don’t need to have a love affair with ponies as a child to learn how to ride now. Stop giving me excuses and get out here, would you?!”

Heaving in a deep breath, you eyed the creatures warily before reaching for the keys to the front door. Jaehyun waved you off. “You don’t need to lock up.”

“Someone could easily walk onto this property.”

“Walk?” Jaehyun mused, and you rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Drive up the road and find it. Call it a habit, if you will,” you told him as you slotted the key into the door and locked it. You smiled over at him. “I’ll feel more at ease knowing it’s locked up. And I have a pocket for them, so don’t worry.”

“Whatever makes you happy, Miss City.”

“Back to that?”

“Well, you’re about to learn how to ride from a cowboy. It seems fitting,” Jaehyun replied, and you grinned. “Come on. Old Roger here is half-blind and safe as houses.”

“I don’t think blind and safe work together like that,” you murmured, following him over to the brown horse. You gave him another look. “And who names a horse Roger?!”

“You’re so talkative when you’re nervous.”

“Just hurry up before I back out entirely,” you confessed, and Jaehyun let the stirrups down from laying over the seat of the western saddle.

He then pointed to something sticking off the front of it. “That’s what we call the horn. Take a hold of that and stick your foot in the stirrup there.”

You reached up for the horn and then attempted to get your foot into the stirrup. Not quite making it, you turned to look at Jaehyun. “Oh dear, I’m not able to do this. Well, if you’ll excuse me-”

“Not so fast,” he said as his arms slipped around your waist and pulled you back to his side. You glanced up at him, and Jaehyun blinked a couple of times before grinning lopsidedly. “So eager to get away from me, huh?”

“So eager to hold me,” you pointed out, and his hands dropped to his sides momentarily before guiding your hand up to the horn again.

“This time, hold the horn, and I’ll give you a leg up,” he offered, moving effectively to cup your foot and pushed up. Without realising it, you threw your leg over the opposite side of the saddle and sat down. Jaehyun laughed at your stupor. “Look at you. We’ll make a rider out of you in no time.”

You smiled proudly down at him, and Jaehyun patted Roger before handing you the reins. He sorted your fingers around them before stepping away. “Wait!”

“What?”

“You can’t just put me up on a horse and then walk away from me. Shouldn’t you lead me around first or something? Take care of me!”

Jaehyun chuckled. “Thought you weren’t a pony ride type of girl?”

“Not funny! He might walk off with me! What do I do then?!”

Jaehyun evaluated the snoozing animal you sat aboard and then swiftly mounted his own stead. He looked over at you. “Oh no, what are you going to do now, Y/N? He’s going to start walking as soon as Blaze here does.”

“That’s not funny!” you exclaimed, gripping the horn of the saddle when Jaehyun clucked at his horse, and it walked off. Roger stepped off in time as the other horse, and your eyes bulged out of your head.

Jaehyun glanced back at you. “Relax. I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way. Trust in me.”

Jaehyun’s words resonated with you, and you took in a deep breath and tried to relax. Roger fell in step with Blaze, and you glanced over at Jaehyun nervously.

“Do I just hold the horn?”

“If you want to. Roger won’t do anything Blaze doesn’t. But try to relax your grip at least. Those reins lead to a bit in his mouth. You don’t want to tug too hard on that.”

You unclenched your hands immediately, barely holding onto the reins. You decided to keep one hand on the horn though, just in case. Jaehyun nodded. “There you go, now you’re riding.”

“I’m riding,” you repeated, looking forward along the track you were on. For fifteen minutes or so, you just enjoyed the feeling. It was freeing, even if you had been frightened at first, to be up on a horse with all this land around you. The morning sun wasn’t too hot, yet it felt nice upon your back. You could see yourself growing accustomed to this view. From the back of a horse, everything seemed more magical with the way the light hit it.

And then Jaehyun had to go and ruin your peace. “We’ll try a jog now.”

“A what? No, thank you, walking is fine.”

“I want to show you a place, but it’ll take us all day if we amble up there,” Jaehyun persisted. “Just hold onto the horn, okay?”

“Jaehyun, I-!”

He asked Blaze up a gait, and like clockwork, Roger followed along. You squealed with the change, trying to balance yourself with the fast and bumpier speed. Glaring at Jaehyun, you gripped the horn tightly, focusing on keeping in the seat of the saddle. The longer you jogged, the easier it became, but you were still grateful when both horses slowed back to a walk.

“You’re a jerk!” you exclaimed as Jaehyun laughed at you.

“That I am, but you survived, didn’t you?”

“Wherever we’re going better be worth it!” you told him adamantly and recklessly leaned over and shunted him.

Whilst Jaehyun was okay, you forgot for a second that you were on top of a horse. Unlike him, you hadn’t ever ridden before, and your balance wasn’t as secure. You gripped onto his t-shirt in hopes to find leverage.

Jaehyun leaned in towards you. “Trying to touch me, are we?”

“Don’t! I was just--” Jaehyun helped you back upright, and you shakily drew in another breath.

He grinned. “Hold onto that horn unless you plan on riding double with me, won’t you?”

“So this is it?” you asked when the horses came to a halt, and Jaehyun nodded. “It’s another field, Jaehyun.”

“We can’t use this field for grazing our herd on. It’s too far away from the house to travel to daily and becomes a waste of time when we already have enough to do. It’s hard as rocks during summer and bogs with mud in winter.”

“Sounds cursed.”

Jaehyun glanced at you. “It’s also the closest field we have to the mountain ranges.”

“Huh, so it is.” You surveyed the area, deciphering where you were on the internal map inside your mind. You gasped. “This was the spot I was trying to find access to!”

“Only way in currently is upon horseback,” he mentioned cautiously, readjusting his hat on his head. “My Dad would kill me if he found us out here right now.”

“You’re helping me. Why?”

“You seem genuine,” he answered honestly, gauging your reaction intently. “You’re not here to make big bucks for the company and rob the small people in the process. After yesterday, and with how many came up to us at the market to say hi, I can tell you care about Blayne already.”

“Well, its early days but I do want what’s best for everyone.”

“If we sold this land and then our neighbours gave over the adjacent property, we could build a road and put in more housing, in the very least.”

“You don’t want the resort, do you?”

“Would you? Who needs one when we have enough activities to fill the day?”

You smiled. “My first goal would be housing too. Blayne needs more workers. Workers tend to bring their family along with them. We’d need to change the town model a little to accommodate all of this.”

“The farmers here won’t accept strangers to work their lands. When Avery left, it was really hard for me to manage the herd we have. Caleb is helpful, but he’s slow from a limp to his leg. Dad wants to increase production over the next two years. It’s a joke if he thinks the four of us can manage both our property and my Uncle’s.”

“They’ll need to swallow their pride and let workers in then. I can help with that. I’m sure if we band together, we can help those living here first.”

“Things like these take more than months to execute, Y/N,” Jaehyun mentioned, turning Blaze back towards where you had travelled from. “You talk as if you will be here to change it all. It was just an idea to show you the land.”

“I’m deeply appreciative. Believe me. And whilst things might take time out here, I’m from the city. Rome might not have been built in a day, but we have construction workers by the hundreds. Progress can happen quickly.”

Jaehyun nodded softly right when the morning sun disappeared. He stared up at the skies just as you did, squinting when a raindrop fell upon your cheek. He laughed. “Looks like the weather is showing us how quickly it can change too. Ready to jog again?”

“As long as you don’t bring up this loping you talked of earlier, I’m ready!”

It took thirty minutes of trotting, and by the time you arrived back at your home, you were both soaked through. Jaehyun dismounted first before coming over to your side and gesturing to get down. You landed at his side and laughed, both of you bringing the horses into the barn and out of the weather. Jaehyun took off their gear and popped them in the two end stalls, gesturing for you to go over to the house.

“You’re going to catch a chill if you don’t get out of those clothes,” he mentioned, and you placed your hands on your hips.

“Trying to get me out of my clothes now.”

“Easy on there, Y/N. I’m being a gentleman right now,” he commented with a bite to his lips thereafter, and you shook your head with continued laughter, stepping up onto the veranda and reaching into your pocket for the keys.

Smile fading, you dug your hand in deeper. Your search came up empty. “Jaehyun.”

“Mm?”

“I’ve lost the keys,” you announced, and Jaehyun eyes widened.

“You did?”

“Yeah, they must have fallen out as we rode,” you surmised, slapping your forehead in despair. “Oh! Maybe they fell out when I dismounted before.”

You went to dash back out into the rain that was now coming down sideways, but Jaehyun stopped you, grabbing your arm and shaking his head. “Don’t go back out there.”

“We’ll both get sick if we stay out here like this, though!”

“I know a way in.”

Taking your hand properly, Jaehyun led you around the veranda to a window on the side. He let go of you then, his palms pressing against the wooden window frame. It dislodged from its shut position, and Jaehyun pushed it up into the top window, offering enough space for you both to clamber through it. He awkwardly managed to do so first, holding it open for you to follow suit.

You stumbled when you landed, and he caught you, his hands taking purchase on your hips. You grinned up at him. “How did you know to do that?”

“I was once a teenager,” he pointed out, and you laughed. “What? Don’t tell me you were a goodie two shoes.”

“What did you have here to sneak out to?”

His smile faded as he took in your close proximity. “Not you.”

The temperature in the room grew hotter the longer you stared back at one another. You were acutely aware of where your hands rested on his chest, and where his were on your hips. Slowly, you slipped them up and hooked them around his neck, eliciting flames of hunger to rise within his eyes.

“I’m here now, though.”

“You’ve only been here for a few weeks. Are you going to be here today and gone tomorrow?”

You shook your head. “I have no plans on leaving anytime soon.”

That was enough for Jaehyun to capture your lips in a fevered kiss, his body pressing into yours. You gripped onto his shoulders, and he hoisted you up, your legs curling around his waist as you continued to release all the tension that had built between you. You gasped for air, and his tongue dove in to meet yours, both blindly moving around the study towards the door.

Pulling away breathlessly, Jaehyun stared at you again. “I didn’t think we’d be doing this so soon.”

“Feels like we’ve been playing this game of cat and mouse for longer than three weeks.”

“We should stop. If we keep going on like this, something’s bound to happen.”

“Like a shower and then you taking me to bed?” you offered demurely, the man holding you breathing out a curse. You smirked. “You could stop if you want to slow things down, Cowboy.”

“I hold the fastest score at barrel racing in these regions I’ll have you know.”

You giggled with delight as Jaehyun started to ascend upstairs. “I hope that’s not the same speed that you go at during other things, Jaehyun.”

Kissing you passionately again, Jaehyun didn’t answer with words when he placed you down on your feet once you reached your first destination, simply tugging his t-shirt over his head before kicking the bathroom door shut behind you both.

_________________

Part 7

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[NCT Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

God Damn Smile | Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Warnings: Fluff :)

Time/Era: Modern AU

Word count: 3.7k 

Summary: Edmund reconnects with his childhood best friend, and it makes old, forgotten feelings resurface. 

Request: Hey! Can you write an Edmund x reader based on “A Typical Teenage Love Song” by Tate McRae? It’s fine if you can’t. Tsym in advance!

A/N: This song is so cute :D Ahhh, I love this imagine!!! I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! Thanks for the request :)

masterlist | read on ao3

“No! Don’t step on him!” Five year old Y/N L/N yelled at her friend, Edmund Pevensie. He had his foot raised above a small garden snail, right in the middle of a game of Godzilla. The pair were currently in Y/N’s back garden, playing amongst all the plants. Both children were dressed in brightly colored rain boots and their play clothes to enjoy the rainy weather. 

“It’s just a snail,” Edmund responded, lowering his leg to the ground. Instead of squishing the garden creature, he kneeled down to the ground for a better look. It wasn’t anything special, just a normal garden snail, but it seemed to be rather important to his playmate. 

“He is not just a snail! He is my friend.”

“If he’s your friend, what’s his name then?” Edmund let the small snail crawl up onto his finger before standing upright. 

“Snaily,” Y/N responded, putting her hand out and throwing the teddy bear in her arms to the ground. Edmund placed Snaily on her palm and smiled a toothy smile. This made Y/N grin, putting her hand at eye level. “Thank you for not squashing him.”

“He’s my friend now, too. You don’t squash friends.” 

Y/N nodded in agreement, “You don’t squash friends.” 

~

“Do you remember being a baby?” Edmund asked Y/N. They were now eight and sitting on the Pevensie family swing set, avoiding the youngest Pevensie child, Lucy. Y/N adored Lucy, she thought the girl was adorable, but Edmund insisted the two have “big kid things” to attend to. 

The swing set was old and rickety, as it had been in their family since Edmund’s older brother, Peter was a toddler. The colors were faded, the slide had a large crack in it and Edmund had written his and Y/N’s initials on one of the support beams. “No, am I supposed to?” Y/N answered. She had been last to reach the swings, so she was stuck with the squeaky one. Her face cringed each time the chains made a noise, despite her attempts to stay as still as possible. Y/N brought her hands to the teddy bear on her lap, covering its ears. Having been in the sun all afternoon, the swing was hot on her legs and it stuck uncomfortably to the skin on her thighs. 

“I don’t think so. My parents were looking at our baby books this morning so I was wondering,” 

“My mom has a picture of us when we were three hanging in our living room,” Y/N’s nose wrinkled and she kicked up a small patch of dirt. “We’ve been friends since we were babies. I don’t remember meeting you, though. You were just, there.” 

Edmund laughed, standing so he could lean his stomach against the seat of the swing. He swung on his stomach once before situating back onto his feet. “Our fathers are friends which means we’re friends. That’s just the way the world works.”

“Friends forever, even if one of us moves far far far far away?”

“Friends forever, Y/N.” 

~

“Do you have to go?” Ten-year-old Edmund stood outside of Y/N’s house, holding a box of barbies. Mr. L/N took the box from Ed’s hand and put it in the trunk of his car. 

“It should only be for a few years at most, Ed. I’m getting relocated for work,” Mr. L/N responded, messing the young boy’s hair up with one hand. “We’ll be back. I gave your Dad our new address and you can write to Y/N to your heart’s content.”

When Y/N joined them at the car, backpack slung across her shoulder and her favorite teddybear hugged between her arms, tears were rolling down her face. 

“I don’t want to go, please don’t make me!” She cried, holding to her teddy to her chest. Her face was scarlet and her mouth was etched into a frown. 

“You can stay with us!” Edmund offered, his own tears starting to roll down his face. Y/N was more than just his playmate, she was his best friend. They had spent the last seven years of their life seeing eachother almost daily, and now all of that was going to come to a sudden halt. 

“That’s sweet of you, buddy, but I think her mother and I would miss her too much,” Mr. L/N smiled down at the two before walking to the front of the car where his wife was talking to Helen Pevensie. 

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Edmund sniffled. “I’m going to miss you. I have no one to play on the swings with!”

“You can play with Lucy.” Edmund made a face at this suggestion, making Y/N sadly giggle. “Or Peter.”

“No, Lucy cries too much and Peter always kicks sand in my eyes.” 

A thoughtful look came over Y/N’s face and she looked down at the plush in her arms. After a small moment of what looked like intense thought, she held her teddy out towards Edmund. 

“Here, Ed, now you can have a friend!” Edmund hesitantly took the bear from Y/N’s hands and looked down at it. It was obvious Y/N really loved that thing because it was a bit raggedy and one of the brown button eyes was replaced with a bright green one. “Teddy likes it better here, anyway. You can take care of him.” 

Y/N awkwardly gripped her upper arm with her hand, swaying on her heels. Edmund hugged it to him and nodded stiffly. “He’s in good hands. I will protect him with my life.”

Both kids laughed and embraced before Y/N was whisked into the car. 

~

Dear Y/N, 

Happy 12th birthday! I’m sad I couldn’t be there for it, but I hope your cake was yummy. The picture my mum showed me looked absolutely delicious. She also said you took up archery at your new school! My school doesn’t offer that, so I thought that was cool. Did you shoot anything? I know you are too nice to shoot any animals but I never know with you. ;) I hung out with this girl in my English class the other day, she reminded me of you. She had long brown hair and blue eyes and a laugh that sounds like yours. She wasn’t as fun as you, though. I think she wants me to be her boyfriend. I’m not sure if I want to be her boyfriend. She kept trying to hold my hand. Her hand was sweaty. And she kept saying I have a cute smile. I don’t know how a smile can be cute? Teeth are weird. Peter said that was her way of trying to flirt with me. Do you flirt with boys at your school? What do you say?

Maybe we can play Minecraft together again soon. Last time we played I had a great time. Have your mom text mine and we can try to schedule something. I want a phone, it would be easier to talk to you.

I attached a picture of me and Teddy at the park. He misses you almost as much as I do.

I’ll be waiting for your response, 

Ed

.

Ed, 

Thank you for the birthday wishes. :D The cake was delicious, I wish you could have tried it!!! And to answer your question, yes, but I’ve only ever shot targets. It’s against school rules to shoot anything other than them. Sort of a bummer, though. 

Your not-girlfriend sounds nice. I agree with her, your smile is very nice. You always look so happy when you smile, especially when your eyes light up. 

I don’t really flirt with boys, boys are kinda gross. Not you of course, but the guys at my school. There is this one guy named Ethan who is kinda cute. He wouldn’t want to be my boyfriend though. My friend always talks about kissing him. I want to kiss someone...have you ever kissed a girl? 

My mum said I can get a phone when I turn 14. Then, we can text and call whenever we want! I miss you. How’s teddy? He looks so happy in that picture. I hung it on my bulletin board. 

Respond quicker this time, will ya?

Y/N

~

EDMUND!!!

I’M HAVING A CRISIS AT THE RIPE OLD AGE OF 13! Remember that boy, Ethan? Well, apparently he has a big crush on me. That’s fine, he’s cute and everything, but my friend has a big crush on him. I guess it’s like friendship code to not date him? I feel bad rejecting him. I kinda have a crush on someone already. I know he doesn’t like me though. 

Are you still dating that one girl? In your last letter, you said you were gonna break up with her. How’d that go? Did she cry? Did you cry? I hope you didn’t. I don’t like it when you cry. It makes me sad. 

Can you believe we’re teenagers now? It seems like just yesterday I was handing you Teddy and crying in the car for an hour. I hope we come back soon. But hey! I’m almost 14, which means I’ll be getting a cell phone. Maybe if I have a phone my mum can convince yours to get you one. 

I miss you, Ed. I hope to be back soon. 

Y/N. 

.

Y/N!!!!

I’m not sure if that really counts as a crisis, but okay. If you don’t like him, don’t date him. That’s why I broke up with mine. I discovered I kind of like someone else, so I broke up with her. And no, I didn’t cry. If felt like a relief more than anything. Let me know how the “crisis” turns out. 

I can’t wait until I get a phone. My entire grade has one, and so do Susan and Peter. I feel kind of left out, having to write letters when I want to talk to someone. It’s always fun when I get them, though. 

If I have to hear Stitches by Shawn Mendes one more time, my head is going to explode!!!! Susan keeps playing it on repeat. I tried to turn it off earlier and she almost broke my arm. Why are siblings so mean? Or are mine just weird? You’re lucky you’re an only child. I miss you too, Y/N. If you were here life would be so much easier. 

Edmund

~

“Edmund, you got a letter,” Lucy says, dropping the envelope on his desk. He was working on college applications, typing away on his laptop, and looking grumpy. Music blasted through his speakers as he worked. 

“I didn’t order anything?” He grunted in response, not taking his eyes off of the screen. 

“It’s from the girl you’re basically in love with, I think. It has her name on it.” Edmund looked at the envelope with scrunched eyebrows. Sure enough, it had her name and address written on the front in her familiar handwriting. His heart rate sped up while he gently (and shakily) broke the paper seal. Why didn’t she just text him? 

Hey, Edmund,

I know we haven’t talked since we were like 15 and I could have just texted you, but this seemed more nostalgic and romantic in a way. You know how I tend to romanticize everything. 

Anyway, I wanted to let you know we’re moving back for Senior year, crazily enough. A few years my ass, huh? We’ll be back on the 14th, so get ready for chaos. 

Seriously, I’m looking forward to seeing you outside of Instagram again. You don’t have to come see me if you don’t want to, I know it might be a bit awkward, but I’d really like it if you did. My address is 1014 Swanwhite Lane. Come stop by if you feel like it. 

I do miss you. Judging by your social media, you’re doing well. I’m happy to hear that. 

Hopefully, I’ll see you soon.

Y/N

“Oh my god, she’s coming back,” Edmund says, gripping the thin paper in between his thumb and middle finger. “What’s the date?” 

Lucy pulled her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it, “The 28th. Why?”

“She got back the 14th! She’s been back for ages and I had no idea, oh my god!” 

“Well, are you going to go see her? You lost your chance to sweep her off her feet by waiting for her to arrive.”

“Sweep her off her feet?” Lucy rolled her eyes and hit him with the rest of the family’s mail. 

“Don’t play stupid. I’ve heard you and Peter talking.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His eyes skimmed the letter again. Lucy snatched it from his fingers and hit him with it. 

“Don’t know what I’m talking about? Really, Ed? The whole ‘I’ve been in love with her since I was 8 years old’ thing you told Pete? You don’t recall? Or the fact you have her post notifications on?” Lucy read the letter herself. “She wants to see you! Come on, this is your chance. You haven’t even looked at a girl since you were like 13.” 

“I’ve been focusing on school. What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s a Friday night in the middle of August and you’re getting a head start on college applications. Ed, go see the girl.” 

“Mum will never let me,” Lucy held up one finger and left the room. After about 5 minutes, she returned and held his coat out to him. 

“She said to go have fun. Here, it might be chilly.” Edmund sighed and took his jacket. The corduroy felt soft under his fingers as he slid it on. 

“You don’t have to be so pushy, Lu.” 

Lucy smiled, “It’s only because I love you. Besides, if I didn’t push you, you wouldn’t go.”

~

Edmund sat on the curb across the street and looked up at Y/N’s house. It was well past 11 at this point and only one light in the house was on. Hopefully, it was Y/N’s. 

He awkwardly thumbed through his contacts before pulling up Y/N’s. The last text was on his birthday, a simple two message conversation consisting of “Happy Birthday!” and “Thanks!”

Look outside 

He watched nervously as his message went from delivered to read, but no typing bubble popped up. Edmund sighed and stood, shoving his phone into his jacket pocket and walking towards the house. Sure enough, the front door opened and a grown-up Y/N stepped out. She was still dressed, but her shoes were off and her hair was tied back. Edmund smiled at her mismatched socks, old habits die hard apparently. 

“I thought you were never going to come and see me,” Her voice was like honey. 

“I just got the letter today, so blame the postal service. Not me.” The two walked to the curb and sat down. 

“Well, I’m glad you still came. I was expecting you to wimp out.”

“Wimp out?! Why would I do that?” 

Y/N let out a forced chuckle and looked at the pavement. “Because you stopped answering my texts and calls.” She crossed her arms across her body and shivered. She was only wearing a short-sleeve shirt and a pair of pajama shorts. “But I get it, life gets in the way sometimes.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Are you cold?” Without waiting for an answer, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it across Y/N’s shoulders. It smelled like spearmint gum and pine. 

Y/N let out a real chuckle this time. “Smooth, Ed. Very cheesy.” 

“I will happily take it back.” 

“Please don’t, this is the closest I’ve been to you in years.” Her fingers gripped the material and closed it around her torso. She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Edmund didn’t quite know what to do. “I missed you, Edmund. It’s so nice to see you again.” 

“I missed you too. Your return is a few years late.” His chest vibrated with a snicker. 

“I know, but I’m back now.” A moment of silence filled the air as the two tried to grow more comfortable in the familiar company. 

“I used to dream about sitting with you like this, you know,” Edmund said before he could stop himself. 

“You did?”

“Yeah, I used to picture us in all sorts of situations, but most of them were small things like this.” 

“But not anymore?”

Edmund sighed, laying his head on top of hers. His hair tickled Y/N’s forehead. “I figured you moved on from me.”

“Moved on? What do you mean?”

“I mean, you have so many friends and a new life… and we stopped texting as often. I don’t know, I thought you, maybe, outgrew me.” 

Y/N played with the zipper on Edmund’s jacket, making a small clicking noise fill the air. “I never outgrew you, Ed. In fact, a day didn’t go by that I didn’t wish I was here with you.” 

“I don’t see why. You had so many friends and such an exciting life. I’m rather dull in comparison.”

“You’re definitely not dull. And it doesn’t matter how many friends it seems like I have, you’re the only one I consider a best friend. I should have reached out more, maybe I could have had a better year.” 

Edmund shifted so he could wrap an arm around her waist. “Did you have a bad year?”

“Yeah, that’s sort of why we came back. But, I mean, I’m here with you, so everything has a bright side.” 

Edmund grinned and tightened his grip. “That’s one of the things I love most about you. You can always see the positives in everything.” Y/N pulled back and looked at his face. 

“I love it when you smile,” Y/N commented. “I could spend hours staring at that god damn smile.” Edmund’s cheeks reddened and his smile grew bigger. 

“Why don’t you, then? Stay with me for hours, I mean.” 

“I will if you let me, Pevensie.” 

Edmund sniffed once. 

“Did you ever end up dating that guy from your Chemistry class?” Edmund asks, studying the side of her face. His eyes scanned over her skin, admiring how soft it looked. 

“No, I’ve been in love with someone else for quite some time.” 

“What a lucky guy, then.” Edmund’s voice was only a bit louder than a mumble as he turned his head away from her. 

“Yeah, I guess he is. I’ve known him since I was really young.” 

“How’d you meet him?” Every word felt like a dagger into his stomach. 

“I don’t remember, he was always just there. Our dads were friends so we were friends. That’s just how the world works.” Edmund took his hand off of Y/N and placed it in his lap. 

“Oh, I see.” 

“Yeah, he’s super cute. He’s really smart, too, but kinda oblivious.”  

“Wow, he sounds great, Y/N. I’m so happy for you.” Each word sounded like he was choking them out. He stopped listening a few responses ago, but he still wanted to support her. No matter how hurt he felt, he was still her friend. 

“He’s the best person I’ve ever met, if I’m being quite honest. He can be a bit of an ass though.”

“What’s his name?” 

“You might know him,” Y/N tucked her hands into her sleeves before continuing. “His name is Edmund Pevensie.” 

“Wow, what a cool- wait what?” Y/N giggled at the look on his face. His eyebrows were lifted and his mouth was open slightly. 

“Yeah, I don’t know, maybe you’ve met him.” 

“You’ve been in love with me?” 

“Been and am, darling. God, when I got your text tonight my heart almost stopped.” Edmund was speechless, he couldn’t believe the girl he had been in love with for so long felt the same way. “Of course it’s okay if you don’t feel the same-”

“-No! I’m just shocked. I can’t believe this. I have loved you since we were little, I feel like I’m dreaming.” He couldn’t help but let the smile engulf his face, making his freckles stand out against his red cheeks. This was not what he was expecting when he had walked to her house. 

“There’s that handsome smile I love to see.” 

“So, you were waiting for me?” 

“Just like you were waiting for me. Lucy texted me about six months ago about how you never show any interest when she tries to set you up with girls. Now is just our time, unless you aren’t going to show interest in me.” 

“When did you get so sassy?” Edmund turned so he was facing her straight on. 

“When did you get so flust-” She was cut off mid-word by his warm lips being pressed against hers. He tasted like licorice and mint, and Y/N instantly got intoxicated off of his lips. Both parties had dreamed about this moment for years, so now that it was happening, it left them both feeling light-headed. Edmund pulled back and smirked. 

“Who’s the flustered one now?” He asks, hand cupping her cheek. 

“Does this mean you’re finally mine?”

“Y/N, I’ve always been yours. Hell, I’ll always be yours.” 

Edmund made a face as if he remembered something and reached into his backpack, “By the way, I’m not the only one who missed you.” He placed a very old teddy bear in his lover’s lap. 

He had raggedy fur and one green eye. 

[ilguna]

Redamancy - Chapter Eight (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, murder, HEAVY GORE, mentions of FORCED PROSTITUTION.

wc; 12k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

If it weren’t for the irritating sun rays landing right on your face and into your eyes, you’d bask in this warm feeling forever. It’s like receiving an embrace from spring, herself. Bright sunlight, tolerable temperatures, bees, flowers, sundresses, picnics and comfortable afternoons in the park with your family. You can’t count how many good memories you have from grass fields and playgrounds in District Four.

Watching Alyssum run around the park, making friends and being a kid while she can is the most satisfying part. You can watch her for hours, lose yourself in her carelessness. Your sister hasn’t got a worry in the world to think about, it makes you envy her. A nice house, warm meals, a loving family. None of you are perfect, but you try to be for her.

There’s a lot she’s going to be missing out on already when it comes to parents. She has you, Reed and Mox to fill those roles for her. You’d like to say she can’t miss something she’s never experienced, you’d be lying, though. You miss a regular teenage life that you never got to live, thanks to the Hunger Games. The Capitol is always ruining something, even if they’re not actively trying.

Which brings you back to reality. As much as you’d like to lay here in the soft blankets and keep to your warm spot on the bed, you’ve got to get moving. If the sun is in your eyes already, it only means that your time is up when it comes to sleeping. Like a natural alarm clock, only somehow more annoying, even if it’s not loud and in your face.

You turn onto your back, slowly opening your eyes. You’re met with a white ceiling, smooth and crack-free. Back home in your room, your ceiling has plenty of cracks. When you don’t feel like getting up immediately, you’ll play a game with yourself. See which ones will start on one side of the room and make it to the other. You’ve gotten good at it, and confidently say that there’s a few that go beyond that, they go to the windowsill. 

With a gentle sigh, you sit up on the bed, turned toward the window, stretching your arms above your head. It feels good to get the blood pumping through your arms and shoulders again. You can’t really help it when the stretch extends down to your legs. A low moan leaves your lips, and stops dead in your throat when your thighs begin to hurt.

You hum, standing on your feet. It hurts at first, but the more you move around the room, the better you begin to feel. You stare out of the window for a couple of seconds to see that the Capitol is already alive. It’s definitely past noon at this point. So much for a rotating schedule with Finnick, you’ve already ruined it.

You look over the room you’re in, which definitely isn’t your own. It’s Finnick’s, with the bamboo bed frame, white sheets and the hammock across his room. You used to hear him say how much he enjoyed your room over his, something about the ceiling to floor windows that you have. Takes up an entire wall, gives you a great view of the city. Better than the tiny windows he has lining the wall.

The clock says that it’s a little after two. You two really have got to start moving before you miss out on anything inside of the arena. Not to mention, poor Gloss is sitting down there alone. He hasn’t had a friend to sit with since six this morning. A whole eight hours can be boring as hell, and quite frankly, lonely. He might have resorted talking to the sponsors, at this point.

Finnick is still sleeping on the bed, of course. His back is turned to the sun, explaining why he hasn’t woken up just yet. It’s not going to stay that way for very long. You’d leave him sleeping up here if it weren’t for the fact that it’s entertaining to see him hungover. It’s not often you get to see him like that, and you’re not really willing to pass up an opportunity. Plus, you might as well keep him around as company so it doesn’t get awkward later.

Before you wake him up, you find and put on your bra. He got to see all of you last night, there’s no reason to continue to walk around shirtless. You pick up your pants, and tank top, as your shoes are kicked off by the door. You begin to pull on your jeans, having to bounce slightly to pull them up all the way, when Finnick rolls over.

He groans, throwing his arm over his face to keep the sun from getting in his face. You’re satisfied to see that he’s about to get the same unpleasant wakening that you got, until you realize that his arm completely blocks out the light. What a shame, you were looking forward to watching him come to life like a zombie.

“Hey,” your voice is soft, not really wanting to disturb the peace. He doesn’t seem to hear you, or maybe you’re too quiet. You speak a little louder, “We should probably get down to the betting room, check on our tributes.”

Finnick freezes, and then jolts upright. His wide eyes land on you easily, face twisting as he slowly thinks over the scene in front of him. You pull on your tank top, raising your eyebrows as you wait for him to come to the conclusion himself. After a couple more seconds, he hums out a small tune and falls back onto his pillows, closing his eyes.

“I thought I was still at a client’s house for a second.” he breathes.

“Good morning,” you muse, “How are you feeling?”

“Besides the pounding headache, my back’s pretty messed up.” his eyes open, giving you a sly smirk. You grab one of his shoes, which aren’t as close to the door as yours are, and chuck it at him. Finnick laughs loudly, catching the shoe before it makes a hole in the wall, “I’m fine, considering that I finished half of your drink last night on top of mine.”

“One of us had to be responsible, and I figured that you wouldn’t want to be the one.”

“The next time we go out, I’m going to make you loosen up.” Finnick says.

“If you’re calling me uptight, I’ll shove a stick up your ass so you can see how it feels.” you lean against the wall.

He rolls his eyes, getting out of bed. He’s got a pair of boxers on, so he’s not completely naked either, “How are you feeling?”

“Well rested, actually. Your bed is pretty comfortable.”

“You’re welcome to sleep here any time.” Finnick says, kicking yesterday’s jeans into the corner, as well as the shirt.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” you snort, collecting your shoes, “I’m going to take a shower and get ready. I’ll see you in the dining room.”

“Sure.”

You leave his room, shutting the door behind you. In your own, you quickly change and throw the dirty clothes off to the side for easy collecting when the avoxes come around later. It’s not as hot inside of the Tribute Center as it was yesterday, but the heat is still apparent enough to be one of the first things on your mind. You settle for a pair of shorts, sandals and a white tank top.

You throw the pile of clothes onto the bathroom countertop. The door whooshes shut behind you, sending a cold breeze of air straight to your back. Much like yesterday, you turn the shower water to cold, just on the verge of being warm. You decide to skip getting your hair wet, since you don’t really have time to mess around. It’s a quick wash with sweet smelling soaps before you’re out again.

As you’re drying yourself with the cyan blue towel, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. And with what you see the first time briefly, you have to go back to check that you saw correctly. A scowl appears on your face when you get closer, fingers gently brushing against your collarbone. Little dark marks litter your skin. 

You press your lips together, staring for a couple of seconds longer. You have no choice, you have to cover these up. So, you pull on your clothes and get to work with the makeup, trying to find colors that’ll cancel out the hickey colors. You spend a good ten minutes blending, color correcting, and starting over when it’s too obvious. When you’re finally done, you can still tell that they’re there, but it won’t be the first thing anyone sees when they look at you.

You’d just wear a regular shirt if it weren’t for the fact that you’re already sweating with the tanktop on. You put on the sandals on your way out, making sure your ring is secured on your hand. Finnick is already sitting at the dining room table when you get out there, hair wet and he’s dressed in pink and white.

“Took you long enough.” he says, stabbing his fork into a pancake piece and placing it in his mouth.

You glare as you sit down on the chair, “I had a problem. Actually, you gave me a couple of problems and I solved them.”

His face twists, eyeing you now, trying to find the difference. When a plate of pancakes is served in front of you, plate hot to the touch, you cut up the pancakes, slightly amused by his determination to try and prove you wrong. Does he really think that he’ll be able to? You’ve gone through this plenty of times before with Anchor.

Finnick shrugs, “Whatever you say.”

At least now you have insurance that you did a good job. Finnick might be some type of moronic but that doesn’t mean he misses details. It’s the small things that you have to look out for. Another skill that you need when you’re mentoring, another thing to add to the list that you’ve gotten good at after these years. From what you remember, Finnick’s not too bad at it, himself.

The avox turns on the tv without either of you asking, but you thank him anyway. As you go for fruits instead of syrup this morning, you catch up on the arena with Finnick. Sanguin is in the cornucopia, a fire going in front of her. She’s got some sort of animal skewered using her sword, roasting it over the fire. She looks pissed, staring into the fire, letting the flames flicker in her eyes. 

You’d like to say that she finally lost her mind, but she lost it a long time ago. Way before Bauhinia. Maybe while she was being strategically trained to think that the other tributes in the arena were animals? Or maybe when she volunteered for the Hunger Games like it would be a walk in the park? It’s hard to say exactly, there’s a lot of moments in these past few weeks where she could’ve gone wrong.

At any rate, she’s got enough water to last her a while. You can confidently say that she won’t be leaving the cornucopia unless it’s to get more food. There’s no way that the sponsors are going to cough up any money just for her to eat. Especially when she’s supposed to be trained for the arena. She should know how to hunt and gather. Besides, you’re sure that Gloss would want them to wait until it’s something important, like that healing cream. Even then, it took a couple of people to pitch in. The prices are getting amped up, it’s harder to pay for things now.

You have a feeling that she’s sitting down there for a reason, instead of going off and trying to hunt down any other tributes. She’s healed by now, you watched her put more healing cream on her body last night before she decided to call it a night. Which means that this morning, the entire wound has got to be gone. She’s still going to be sore when moving around, but that’s an obvious nuisance. She technically should be able to work through it.

So, if she’s not interested in hunting Tekla, that means she’s waiting for Annie to come out of the village. And you’d say that’s a pretty big problem, except for the fact that it’s not. Annie’s got plenty of food and water from her raid on the career backpacks and whatever Marsh was holding before he died. If she doesn’t want to, she won’t have to leave the house unless it’s for some sort of Capitol-generated emergency.

After yesterday, you can’t see them doing something like that. You don’t even think that both tributes dying were intentional. They like to watch the last couple of teens fight it out, since they’re the ones that are either: one, completely trained for the arena and know how to take another tribute out with a simple tree branch and a rock. Or, they’re completely lucky and know how to blend into their surroundings and stay there until the Capitol is forced to step in. They only do it when there’s been several days without any interaction between tributes and the Capitol citizens are starting to riot.

Those tributes are the ones that can go days without food. Water, not so much, but they’ll find a source nearby and stick with it as long as they can without getting suspicious. It’s not an impressive feat to go days without eating, it just goes to show the horrible living conditions inside of the other districts. Fortunately, your family hit rock bottom, but you never had to keep digging.

As for Annie, she’s still looking pretty dead inside of her house. She’s moved to a different corner that gives her a better look to see. It looks like she’ll doze off for a second before jerking upright, hand tightening around her sword. You saw her sleep last night, it was the whole reason why you and Finnick decided it was acceptable to leave the betting room in the first place. With the peace of mind of knowing that Annie was finally getting the rest she needed.

When you were at the bar, you didn’t really keep track of what was going on inside of the arena. Which, looking back on it, probably wasn’t a brilliant idea in the first place. If there was an emergency with Annie, knowing as soon as possible would’ve hypothetically saved her life. But you also just wanted one moment for yourself, with Finnick and a drink. It wasn’t much to ask for, and you’re sure that it was well-deserved. If it wasn’t, Annie would be dead in a ditch right now.

To some extent, she might as well be. While Sanguin is fueled with hate-fire right now--literally. Annie looks like her soul has been ripped out of her body. She’s pale, the previous kind girl light in her eyes is gone. She looks like a corpse, freshly pulled out of the coffin. You wish you’ve seen this before, because maybe that would make it easier to understand why she isn’t grieving like normal. Normally, tributes cry for hours, sometimes days until they have to pull it together to win. Annie is just… she’s completely lifeless. Actually, she looks like she’s given up with trying to survive inside of the arena. Which is a dangerous mindset to adapt, especially now.

Just two more tributes to burn through, all she has to do is hold on. Let Sanguin and Tekla fight it out, hope that one kills the other, and the one gets severely injured enough to bleed out and die. It would make the whole thing a lot easier on her, you know that. The last thing she’d probably need on her plate right now, is another death. She’s already got two genuinely impressive ones--taking out the male careers? You’re the only other person who has done that in the past five years. And she’s witnessed the death that would affect her, and it’s taking its toll already. It’s been two days.

Well, as long as Annie stays where she is, eats, drinks and sleeps when she needs to, she won’t have to worry about anything. However, this idea also goes for Sanguin, on the assumption that Tekla isn’t bold enough to go ahead and attack her uninvited. Sanguin’s also set for days--if she has extra food stored somewhere in the case of emergencies.

The only person that might get bored and start causing havoc is Tekla. She’s in the woods by herself, in a patch of grass unguarded by trees. She lays in the sun with her eyes closed, hands laced behind her head. Looking exactly like she did on the first couple of days inside of the arena. This time, she has a good reason to be carefree. Before, she had more than ten other tributes to worry about, all fighting to go home. Now it’s down to two others. It should be a walk in the park, if it weren’t for the fact that she’s being put up against two careers.

You wonder what her odds look like right now. They hadn’t changed last night, not even after she killed Seven boy. But now that it officially looks like she’s going to make it to one of the final fights and be crowned victor, she’s gotta have moved up. District Nine hasn’t had a victor in a long, long time. Their last one was a guy, and he’s the first male to be put into the mentor spot. If you remember correctly, there’s only five victors in Nine, which means that four of them are female. 

Figures that their new potential victor would be a girl, right?

It looks like you don’t really have anything to worry about arena-wise. Really, if you wanted to, you could just stay inside of the apartment. With half-alive Annie, vengeful Sanguin and cheerful Tekla, it’s safe to say that today’s a free day. Things could change, but that’s just your prediction. The only reason you’d have to go down to the betting room is to show up for Gloss, but he doesn’t really matter, does he? You can just go and see him tomorrow.

“You’ve got a look on your face.” Finnick says, your eyes find him to see that he’s staring.

“So?” you stab a strawberry and place it in your mouth, resisting the momentary sour expression before the sweetness takes over.

“It’s your indecisive look.”

Now, your face twists, “I do not have an indecisive look--”

He laughs, “It’s unmistakable! You get the look when you’re thinking over something important.”

“Like a decision?” you ask, trying to be serious, but you end up laughing.

He seems to let it go for a moment, until he’s looking at you again, “What was it?”

You shrug, “I was just thinking that we wouldn’t have to go down to the betting room if we didn’t want to. The silence in the arena gives us a couple of liberties that we wouldn’t have on a normal day.”

“Oh, so you do have a relaxed side.” Finnick thoroughly enjoys the face you make, raising your fist as a threat to punch him in the arm again. You wonder how far he can push you before you finally give him a nasty bruise, “And you also woke me up for nothing.”

“Technically you woke yourself, I just spoke.” you shrug, “Can I get some more coffee?”

“Might as well go back to bed while I can, then.” Finnick says, but he doesn’t move from where he’s sitting.

You wait, receive your coffee, and let him stare at you for a little while, “What are you waiting for?”

“It wouldn’t be responsible--” he mocks the word in your voice, “--to go back to bed, wouldn’t it?”

You glare, “Finnick, you have the night shift, anyway. Stay awake, go back to bed, get drunk at The Victory Speech, have dinner with Gloss, I don’t give a shit.”

“You seem like you want me to go away.” he says, “I think I’ll stick with you, then.”

“Fine by me.” you scoop up your coffee mug, taking it with you when you go downstairs to sit on the couch. You pull out a coaster to not ruin the pristine glass table.

There’s not much to watch the tributes do at all. Sanguin roasts her food, and you think she ends up daydreaming some, because she burns the bottom side of the meat. Doesn’t even wrinkle her nose or look fazed when she bites straight into that part, even when it disintegrates in her mouth the more she chews. After she’s done eating, she moves to the back of the cornucopia, hiding behind a stack of boxes to take a nap.

Annie turns her knife over in her hand, spinning it between her fingers before she knicks herself one too many times. After that, she settles for pulling out a line of rope from her backpack, tying and untying knots. It’s a common hobby that people use to soothe anxiety and pass time when there’s nothing else to do. Doesn’t surprise you that she’s resorted to this. Although, you do begin to worry slightly when you watch her jump at the slightest of sounds and nearly get up every single time to check.

You’d say it’s a reasonable response, thinking that Sanguin is after her. But the house creaks the same way every time, lets out the same groan each time the wind blows too hard. It’s not like they’re new sounds. She should’ve picked up on this by now, realized that there’s no need to get ready to hurry into battle. Watching her grab her knife, lean forward, and listen for any other sounds over and over begins to make you feel antsy.

“There’s something wrong with Annie.” Finnick says.

You hum, “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“What do you think it is?”

You shake your head, “Still working on that idea.”

“Anything you’ve seen before?”

“If I have, I don’t remember.” You lean back into the couch, “Let’s just wait and see how bad it gets.”

And the truth is, it gets worse, because it can always get worse. The good news is that you’ve figured out how to help her, on top of figuring out the problem in the first place. The bad news is that it requires a sponsor. And like you said earlier, all the prices have gone up. Getting one now would be a nightmare, but you have to try anyway.

As you go down to the betting room with Finnick, you think it over.

Annie is suffering from paranoia. She’s obviously shell-shocked from watching Marsh die, otherwise she would be acting normally. You guess that allowing two tributes that have known each other for a handful of years, go inside of the arena together wasn’t the brightest idea. But it’s not like you could control it. You don’t think that they even planned for it to happen, it was just a coincidence.

This is just one part of the problem, watching Marsh die. She also might be feeling guilty because she didn’t try harder to keep him from going. It makes the most sense. She tried to convince him to stay, but the second he showed resistance, she caved and followed. Guilt like this will haunt someone forever. If she wins, she’ll be stuck with thinking that Marsh could’ve gone a better way.

You know this, because you carry around a considerable amount of guilt, too.

The last part, concerning Annie, is the fact that she hasn’t slept in a while. Paranoia feeds off insomnia. Getting an hour or two of sleep after watching your friend die right in front of you, in arguably one of the worst ways possible, is an unfortunate series of events. She can’t prevent not being able to sleep, so you’ll just help her as best as you can.

When you presented all of this to Finnick, he agreed. Said that he was thinking something along the lines of what you are. The only hiccup that he’s worried about is finding sponsors wealthy enough to sponsor this late into the games. They also have to be betting on her too, so that if she does win, they’ll get the return in full. 

The betting room seems slightly busier than usual. Like you predicted earlier, Gloss decided to go ahead and take company in the Capitol people. Tekla’s mentor seems busy off in the corner, with people that don’t look like they nearly have enough money to sponsor this late in the game. It wouldn’t be any use trying to steal them, just a waste of time.

Gloss knows people, but that would mean to interrupt what he’s doing right now, which seems fairly important. The group of people that Finnick had approved of is thin, pooling their money together wouldn't even buy a loaf of bread. Much less what you’re thinking about right now.

It only leaves a couple of people, ones you haven’t talked to in days. You stop a couple of steps inside of the room, allowing Finnick to come in and shut the door behind him. He waits there for a moment, before coming around the side.

“What are you waiting for?” His voice is slightly hushed. No one has really taken notice of your appearance just yet. If needed, you could probably slip out the door and no one would know the difference. 

You look at him.

You made an agreement, take his advice on who to be around and who to stay away from, and he’ll help you. You thought that it would be easy then, because you didn’t need the sponsors. Annie and Marsh had a strategy down, they didn’t look like they’d be needed help anytime soon. They had everything they needed at the moment. But now that Annie needs something more, you’re stuck.

Having Finnick around to be a second body, a second pair of hands and eyes and ears, has made a difference. You’ve slept well, you’ve been allowed to hang out with friends when given the opportunity, and you can finally pace yourself. No more running around like it’s life or death, or being afraid to sleep because an arena is particularly dangerous. 

However, you can do it alone. Annie’s needs right now is going to come before whatever requirements Finnick has. Bringing a tribute home is crucial, buddying with Finnick is a perk. If he gets mad at you for this, there's always next year.

“I need you to come with me and not intervene, or go back upstairs.” You say, squeezing the finger your ring is on.

His face twists, “It depends—“

“No. You go upstairs, or you don’t intervene.” You start towards the sponsors, “I mean it, Finnick.” 

You’re not even halfway across the room before they spot you. You smile at them, letting them welcome you. When you don’t feel Finnick’s presence behind you like normal, you turn to look. The door is sweeping shut, you briefly catch a glimpse of him leaving. 

The sponsors are happy to see you again, you talk with them for a while, and watch what goes on inside of the arena. It’s all small talk, or questions about what you feel like is going to happen. Until they finally bring up Annie, how she’s doing. And just because you can’t hold it in, you spill it all out, being completely honest with them. 

Annie is hurting right now, and she can’t help it. She can’t simply fall asleep because she’s afraid of the nightmares and the vulnerability that comes with it. There’s always the possibility that her body simply isn’t letting her sleep, too. She’s not physically tired, so why would she lay down and try? So, you think that if you find something that’ll make her drowsy, she’ll feel more inclined to.

You can’t guarantee that it’ll work, but it’s worth a try if it means that she wins the games, right? The sponsors seem to think so, and with a budget, you bring them over to the sponsoring table. Everything under the sun is allowed to be sent to them. Name it, and thye’re probably have it. It’s just the price that makes it impossible to work around.

You know for sure that pills are out of the question. The second you see the price, you’re switching gears. Medicine? Maybe. You look at all the options they have for tributes for when they’re sick. You’ve seen a handful of these brands in District Four, all of them expensive. With the money that the Capitol gives you, you can finally afford them. Which means that Alyssum doesn’t have to suffer through colds like before. The medicine works wonders, but the Capitol version will be too much for her to handle. It might as well be a tranquilizer.

Something more natural, then. Those are always cheaper. You go through it, seeing the little vials of brightly colored liquids and the contents. Ones to make you throw up, give adrenaline if the tribute is dying, allergy medicine to save them from anaphylactic shock. And finally, one for sleeping. Without a moment of hesitance, you tap on it.

They all pitch in a certain amount, allowing the vial to be covered in full. You thank them, with assurance that it won’t go to waste. Annie is a tough tribute, she’ll be able to win. All she needs is a little sleep to reset her body, hopefully start her over. It’s like shutting something completely off before trying again.

You take a breath before writing on the paper, ‘Drink it all’.

You get to stand back and watch as the gamemakers find the best way to send it to her. You don’t doubt that she’ll hear the noise that the gifts make. Especially if she’s hearing noises that aren’t being picked up on the microphones. It’s where they have to drop it off to make sure it doesn’t get caught on anything on the way down, like a corner of a roof.

The chiming is a sound that you still hear in your nightmares. You watch as the silver parachute glides through the air, slowly moving between the houses. At first, it doesn’t seem to alarm Annie, but then she jolts, pauses to make sure she’s hearing it right, and then gets up. She shoves her knife into her belt, carefully goes down the stairs so that it doesn’t break beneath her.

She looks more alive like this, the color has returned to her face slightly, she’s got a smile hinting at the corner of her lips. When she finally comes out of the house, swinging the door open and letting in the natural light, she cries out in shock and covers her eyes. She mutters out a few curse words, squinting through the sun until her eyes adjust.

She spots the gift in the middle of the walkway. The smile grows more, scooping the tin into her hand. She gives the area around her a little look-around before disappearing back into the house, shutting the door and locking it. Even though it looks like the lock won’t do much for her anymore. The doorknob is practically falling off.

She makes it all the way to the third floor, back into the corner of her room. She slips down the wall and pops open the lid of the container. The first thing that Annie sees inside is the note, which she reads over carefully before moving it out of the way for the vial. It’s small, not at all as big as they normally sell them earlier on, but those ones also have the tendency to knock a person out for a whole day. This will just keep her asleep for a few hours, maybe the entire night if she drinks it now. You hope that she’ll be up at a reasonable time tomorrow.

Annie uncaps it carefully, and takes a small sniff. You can’t imagine that she recognizes the smell, even though it is sort-of distinct. If the medicine is fresh, it’ll usually smell sweet. If it’s not, then it’s stale, maybe a little sour. Obviously, one is more desirable than the other, but it works the same either way. Whether or not it’s fresh doesn’t affect the way it works.

When Annie is satisfied with the smell, she goes ahead and caps it again. There’s no directions, so she’s going to have to decide how she wants to do this. The sun will be setting in an hour, maybe two. Annie eats some dry foods, drinks some water. It’s smart, her wanting to get food into her body beforehand. If it were you, you probably would’ve just settled for drinking it straight, it might have worked faster that way.

She drinks it, slipping to the floor. She pulls the sleeping bag over herself, closing her eyes. It’s going to take a second to kick in, but it’s enough time for you to go upstairs and out of the betting room. You’ll be back down here bright and early tomorrow, there’s no point spending more time than you have to.

You thank the sponsors, shake hands and exchange hugs. Before you leave the room, you see that the Afternoon Line Odds are all the same. Sanguin’s is 2-1, Annie is 3-1, Tekla is 7-1. All very good odds, but not as good as Sanguin. Hopefully, that’ll change within the next couple of days. You leave the room before Gloss can see that you’re down there.

You spent a good hour or so just talking to the sponsors. The fastest part was getting them to agree on sending Annie a gift. It wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it would be. Finnick makes all of them out to be like criminals, constantly looking for their next fix. But they understand that you’re not like that. They can have their eyes on you all they want, it’s not going to happen. 

Just before you go inside of the apartment, you’re sure that Finnick isn’t going to be out in the living room, or he’s not going to be inside of the apartment all together. However, when you step inside, you’re surprised to see that he’s on the couch, his arms crossed. He doesn’t bother to look over, not even after you shut the door. You almost feel guilty for doing what you did.

Almost.

You sit on the couch next to him, pull your legs up beneath you, and sit in silence. There’s no point to try and talk to him right now. You know that he’d probably like a moment to cool off. It might even be better if you didn’t sit in here at all, so he won’t be fuming next to you. But it’s not like you have much of a choice. You can’t just go back downstairs and sit in the betting room, that would be stupid. If Finnick’s right about the sponsors, there’s no reason to stay around them more than you have to.

So, silence it is. It’s a while before either of you have anything to talk about. Annie should be asleep by now, an entire hour later. There’s no way that the vial would take more than five minutes, even with a full stomach. Still, you watch as her eyes open, a frown appearing on her face, eyebrows turning in.

Your mouth falls open, you stand from the couch, ���That’s not good.”

“What did you give her in the first place?” Finnick asks.

“It’s one of those natural sleeping medicines, the expensive ones?” you briefly look at him, before you go back to the tv, “Costed a fortune, so it should’ve worked. The gamemakers wouldn’t send a dud, right?”

“Probably not.” 

You sit back down onto the couch, hands falling into your lap. You made sure that it was the sleeping medicine, and not the sick stuff either. The only other option that was left for Annie besides this, was the herbal tea. And that shit hardly ever works for you, or your siblings when you use it back home. The most the tea would do anyway, is make her drowsy, not even a guarantee.

It’s a good thing that you didn’t even consider the tea, because if the vial did nothing, Annie would be able to drink the entire box of tea and still not feel a single thing. The medicine was a waste of money, and who knows what it’s going to do to her. Make her even more delirious than she already is? Like she, or you guys, need that at all. You were already worried over her paranoia, now you’ve got to be worried about her accidentally killing herself?

There’s nothing you can do about it now. You’ve just got to sit back and wait to see if it kicks in, after all. There’s no point in going downstairs to tell the sponsors it was some sort of mistake, because you really didn’t know that this was going to happen. If you did, you probably wouldn’t have bothered in the first place. Everything is worth a try until it’s wasting resources. You might have been able to use the sponsor money later on.

Still, you have to sit and painfully watch as Annie progressively gets worse. Turns out, that if you don’t fall asleep with the medicine, it starts to work as a hallucinogenic. On top of Annie’s paranoia, she’s not hallucinating she’s hearing noises, and maybe even seeing things. You close your eyes and rest them against your palms when you lean forward, not really liking to hear Annie go through it.

It’s stupid. You’re not even sure how Annie’s resisting the drug, anyway. She’s not doing it on purpose, she clearly recognized the smell if she laid down immediately after. And it’s not like they had any sort of drugs available for hallucinations. No mentor would willingly give their tributes something like that, so why would it be offered?

No matter what happens, though, you’re glad to see that Annie doesn’t leave the house. She stays where she is, clutching onto her knife, staring into space. She’s just like how she was before you sent her the sponsor gift. Only this time around, she’ll randomly jump as if there’s been a loud sound, and then her eyes will follow things in front of her, even when there’s nothing there.

Elysia comes into the apartment around the same time you guys normally eat dinner, a little out of breath, “Oh, there you guys are!”

You look over your shoulder to see that she’s dressed in lime green and black. The black helps accentuate the green part, which you’re not really sure is a good thing. You’re sure that everyone can see her coming from a mile away, literally. 

“You were looking for us?” you ask, she nods, heading over to you and Finnick.

“In the betting room, I thought you’d be down there since you normally are.”

Figures that the one time you wouldn’t be down there, she’d go, “Looked like there wasn’t much going on today so I thought we could stay up here. I only went down there to send the gift.”

“I saw that.” she says, “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

You three do it over dinner. With Elysia hardly eating and doing most of the talking, Finnick watching the tv and only chiming in when he’s needed, and you trying to do all three at the same time. It’s easy for the most part. Remember when you said that you got good at multitasking? This is an example of that.

She mostly tells you what you already figured out, which is that it turns out to be a hallucinogenic after a while. It should wear off, but it’ll take hours to do. Like, for the amount of time she should have been asleep for. She’s already got a couple of hours under her belt, you’d say that by tomorrow morning, she’ll be back to normal. So, there’s no reason to sit around and wait. 

You and Finnick can get a full night of sleep for once. You just have to get up early tomorrow morning to assess the damage. You’re sure that it’ll be fairly easy to do, you’ll have to get yourself into the habit of waking up early again, anyway. You’ve got the boarding school to worry about. Anchor won’t want to do it alone forever.

Before you give it up tonight, you check the tv one last time. Annie is in her room, so she’s fine. Sanguin looks like she’s officially laying down to sleep, her weapons are displayed around her, all ready to be picked up and used at any time. As for Tekla, she’s made a bed in her little clearing in the trees. However, she’s bold, with a fire going that is distinguishable in the dark. She’s lucky that the back of the cornucopia is turned towards her, otherwise Sanguin would be more than tempted to take Tekla out.

You head back to your room after dinner, mainly to brush your teeth. You pace in your room for a moment, caught in the decision of whether or not to talk to Finnick or to leave him to be angry on his own. You’re sure that he’d appreciate being by himself, but there’s also this morning and last night to talk about. You can’t really just leave those alone, who knows what kinds of problems they’ll cause in the future.

“Okay.” you sigh, heading out of your room and to his. You knock on his door, waiting a second, “Finnick?”

It’s a couple more beats of silence, “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

You open the door to see that Finnick is sitting on the corner of the bed. He looks up when you step inside, you shut it behind you, and lean against the door, “I’m sorry about earlier. I know we had an agreement, but the sponsors were at my disposal. I decided that I might as well, because I was sure that it would work.”

“And it should’ve.” Finnick mutters, “I would just like it if you wouldn’t go and do it again.”

“Yeah, I won’t. I don’t even have the options for it.” you laugh slightly, he cracks a smile, “You should probably know that I prioritize my mentoring job over everything else. If it’s the needs of the tributes versus you, I’m going to pick the tributes every time.”

“I know, you don’t have to be sorry for it.”

“Good, cause I wasn’t.” you grin.

Finnick rolls his eyes, “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“You can probably guess what it is.” 

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the horribly covered up hickeys, would it?” He’s cheeky now.

“Maybe.” you give him a soft smile, “I’d just like to know what we’re doing, and if we’re going to continue on with it.”

Finnick makes a face, “This is going to sound like shit, but I’ll go with what you want.”

“You’re right, it does sound like shit.” he laughs first, and then you join in, “The thing is, Finnick, is that I don’t have a problem with it. But the last time I checked, you were the one that told me that we weren’t good together. So are you sure that you’ll go with what I want, or are you going to break up with me in a couple of months after you realize it again?”

Finnick opens his mouth, and then closes it. “I deserve that.”

“It wasn’t an explanation, Finnick. In fact, it made things worse when we were just fine on the train, and then you come back from seeing Snow and--!” you’re shaking your head, giving yourself a moment before you start speaking again, “and suddenly I was supposed to know that we weren’t together anymore.”

“But you know why now, right?” Finnick asks.

“Parts of it.” you rub on the ring, “I know that it was because of Snow and the sex work. He made you break up with me to make you more available to the Capitol, right?”

“No, I actually made that decision myself.” he says.

You raise your eyebrows.

Finnick stares, tilts his head for a moment like he’s unsure, “There’s more to it.”

You wait, thinking that he’s just going to give up the information, but he doesn’t, “Okay…?”

“I don’t want to make you feel guilty.”

“Then why’d you say anything at all?” 

He laughs, “To not make me look like an asshole.”

You snort.

“Alright well,” Finnick pauses, “President Snow had me taken to his mansion after the train, you know this. He told me that it’s not uncommon for victors to be well received by the Capitol, but I was different because I was handsome or whatever,” his face twists, “And since I was sixteen, I was finally eligible since it’s more morally correct to sell a teen into sex slavery when they’re sixteen and not fourteen.

“Snow said that I didn’t have a choice. I had to get into it or…” Finnick shakes his head, “There wasn’t even an or at the time. He just said that it was something I had to do, and I told him no, because I was finally feeling better and I had you. Then he urged me to say yes, didn’t even tell me that there would be consequences, so I told him no again….”

He’s angry, “And he fucking killed my entire family, gave the order right in front of me. I thought he was kidding, like it was some sort of sick joke until I had to fucking listen to it.” Finnick looks at you, “He didn’t even flinch when the screaming started, or when my brother started crying. I didn’t even know what to do. And after it was over he told me that the next person he’d kill next would likely be you, or your family if he could get to them. Or worse, sell your body too.”

You can feel the blood drain from your face.

“And I didn’t want that to happen, so I said yes. And then I broke up with you because I hoped that it would make the decision a whole lot easier but I think…” he grits his teeth, “I know it would’ve been easier with you to support me.”

No words form in your mouth, you stand in silence as you try to absorb the information.

“I’m…” your eyebrows draw in, “...selfish.”

“No.” Finnick says, “You’re not. You didn’t know, how were you supposed to? I told you nothing, I wanted a clean cut but it turned out to be messy, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, Finnick?” you look at him, “I’ve been giving you a hard time--why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you come around later?”

“Because you moved on, like you should’ve.”

“I didn’t!” you laugh, moving forward, “Finnick, I hardly spoke to anyone after the year we broke up. My brothers fucking hated you for that entire year because of it. It took forever to convince them otherwise. The entire time, I was hoping that you were going to come around and tell me that it was some stupid prank. I would’ve forgiven you!”

He gives you a smile, “It’s better that I didn’t.”

You give him a look, and then sit on the hammock, “I guess that explains a lot.”

“You guess?” He laughs, “That’s it?”

“There’s not much to say, Finnick.” you shrug, “You said you didn’t want to make me feel guilty and I do anyway.”

“I didn’t have a choice. If you want, you could thank me for saying yes.”

You stare at him, he develops a cheeky smile, “Come on, that was mildly funny.”

“Mildly is the key word.”

The two of you sit in silence for a second, and then you dip your head, “I would be willing to give it another try, if you are.”

“Yeah.”

He’s got a grin on his face, like you just told him he’s getting a car for christmas.

“My brother’s will have to warm up to you again.” you warn him.

“Okay! They liked me before, right? What’s one more time?”

“They hardly give out second chances so you’ll have to consider yourself lucky.”

Finnick softly smiles, “I already am.”

--

A sharp pain in your chest wakes you in the morning. Your eyes shoot open, sitting upright in bed. It spreads immediately, like your heart is pumping it out; the source of the problem. You try and take a deep breath, hoping that you’ll get your mind off of it, but it makes the pain worse. Mid-breath, you stop, and exhale too deeply, causing another shock to go through you.

A groan leaves your lips, tears appearing in your eyes. You carefully get out of bed, wanting to be on your feet, hoping that laying down was the problem. You make no sudden moves, allowing the blood to make its way to your feet as you pace the room. With your palm, you rub small circles around your chest, which seems to relieve some of the pressure.

The clock on the stand reads eight in the morning, four hours before you actually have to get up and get ready for the day. You have a feeling that if you go and lie back down now, right when the pain is beginning to subside, you’re only going to make it worse. Plus, you don’t think that you’ll be able to fall back asleep, not with the adrenaline running through your body.

You take deep breaths when it doesn’t hurt, starting to feel dizzy from the self-hyperventilation. In no time, the pain is almost completely gone, only lingering in aches every now and then. You stand around for a few minutes longer, watching the sun rise high enough to finally come through the window before deciding that you might as well get ready.

The Tribute Center seems to have found its happy medium between too hot and too cold, as last night it was like existing in a frozen tundra. You’re lucky that the blanket they provide retains heat, otherwise you would’ve been bundled up a lot more than you were. Because of this, you think that you can settle for a lukewarm shower.

You lock your bedroom door before disappearing into the bathroom. The shower runs in the background as you undress, throwing all the dirty clothes by the door. You look over the tattoo on your collarbone, which is practically done healing by now. With the cream that the tattoo artist gave you, it doesn’t take weeks to heal like it does in the districts. As for the one on the back of your neck, it looks like it was done yesterday, when really it was years ago.

When you step inside the shower, you allow the water to run through your hair. You might as well wash it today. The shampoo you use smells like straight sugar, same goes for the conditioner. The bottle says it’s good for your hair, but the list of chemicals on the back is seriously concerning. The bathroom provides a matching body wash that smells exactly like the shampoo. You know for a fact that you saw a body lotion in one of the drawers, a part of you wonders if that’ll be overkill.

You turn the shower off and let the machines dry your body and hair. You decide to use the body lotion anyway, and by the time you realize that it’s glittery, it’s too late. You stare at your hands for a couple of minutes in shame, watching the white shimmer in the light. However, when it’s completely spread over your body and dried, it doesn’t transfer onto your surroundings, so that’s a good sign.

You brush your teeth while manually putting your hair together. You go for half-up, half-down since it’ll keep most of the hair out of your face. In the end, you still pull out a few strands to make sure that your face isn’t bland. Before you can do anything else, you have to get dressed.

The dresser holds plenty of skirts to work with, which you’re not opposed to. You sift through them, figuring that white will be fine. When you hold it up to your hip, you see that the skirt ends above the knee, so Finnick won’t have a reason to freak out. As for the shirt, you settle for a light pink, scoop neck bodysuit, with white underwear. When you finally get the entire outfit put together, you look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re very pretty today. The skirt doesn’t ride up too bad, even when you move quickly. The bodysuit prevents anything serious from showing, just in case the skirt does find a way to get stuck, or you spin too fast. You apply mascara, pull on white slip-on tennis shoes and the ring. Needless to say, you’re looking extremely girly today.

The clock says it’s reaching nine, you’d say that breakfast will take thirty, and then you can meet Finnick in the betting room at ten. So, you go out to the dining room to see that Elysia is nowhere to be seen. You refuse to believe that she left before you got up, she has to be sleeping in. Normal Capitol people stay up late and rise at noon. But then again, Elysia is an escort and she’s far from normal sometimes.

An avox turns on the tv, so you sit down at the table and wait as they serve brunch in front of you. It’s hashbrowns, steak, and a bowl of assorted fruit. You pick through your food, not super hungry and in the mood for all of it. Nevertheless, you’re sure to thank the avox that serves it to you, and continues to come back around to give you orange juice and coffee.

The arena screen is split into three, which isn’t new. It was like this last night, since there aren't many tributes to focus on at the moment. If there’s only three, you might as well show all of them and what they’re doing. At least one of them has to be doing something mildly interesting.

Tekla is still in her small clearing in the trees, which is fairly close to the dam, now that the gamemakers have marked it on the map. It’s a beautiful place to rest, you’d even picnic there if you had the opportunity. It’s not a good spot, though. It’s too close to the dam, too easy to kill her if and when it breaks. Still, she lays on her back, eyes closed. You can’t tell if she’s awake or not, but you’re going to guess that she is, judging by how her hands are intertwined over her stomach.

If she were sleeping, she’d probably be more annoyed by the sun. Instead, she’s directly under it, which might actually end up giving her a sunburn if she isn’t careful. That’ll be miserable to work with inside of the arena. You can’t even do anything to remedy the burn this far in, except for natural leaves and plants. You can’t think of any off the top of your head that you’ve seen so far.

Sanguin is in the cornucopia, she’s awake and stretching. She doesn’t look tired, despite the fact that it’s obvious that she just got up. Judging by her ratty blonde hair and the way her face twists each time she leans over. She stands up straight, and then grins slightly, turning around and going back inside. She combs through her hair with her fingers and sits on the edge of a box, sword right next to her. Maybe she’s planning on going out hunting today? You hope she doesn’t actually think she’ll get anything out of the village.

Especially with how awful Annie is looking. She’s got her arms wrapped around her body, knees pulled to her chest. The good news is that she looks to be asleep, mouth slightly open, leaned up against the connecting wall in the corner. But she’s got deep purple bags beneath her eyes, she’s only recently fallen asleep. You wonder how long it’ll last before she’s jolting awake.

It’s good that she’s sleeping, with no thanks to the medicine that you sent her. It probably drove her insane into early this morning, like you said would happen last night. You’d say that it’s a good thing, but with the way that Sanguin keeps looking to the village, it’s not. Annie needs to get up and be ready for a fight. Unfortunately, there’s no way you can warn her of this. You’re all out of options.

You finish your food, thank the avoxes, and leave for the betting room. There’s not a lot going on right now, it’s early morning. Everything big that happens in the arena is normally dedicated towards the afternoon to the evening, for the gamemakers at least. As for the tributes, they’re welcome to make and wreak havoc as they please, when they see fit. 

The betting room is quiet and empty when you get down there. Finnick and Gloss are sitting by each other on the couch. You hold the doorknob on the door, carefully setting it against the doorframe so that they won’t hear you. If they thought that you scaring them was bad when they were semi-expecting you, it’s going to be worse when you’re supposed to be sleeping.

You stand behind them for a moment, squinting down at them, wondering if they have the same sixth sense that you do when people are standing over you. Your question is answered when Finnick barely glances over his shoulder, and then jumps three feet in the air when he realizes that they’re not alone. Gloss has the same moment, inhaling sharply.

A laugh erupts from you as you go around the couch to sit on the arm next to Finnick, “You two are too easy.”

“You’re like a fucking ghost, I didn’t even hear you come in.” Gloss says.

“That was on purpose.” you cross a leg beneath your thigh, “Woke up early by accident, thought that it wouldn’t hurt to come down and keep you two company for a little while.”

“Well, the afternoon schedule was nice while it lasted.” Finnick mutters.

Your face twists, you look down at him, “You’re a bad liar. There’s no way you like waking up at midnight and going to bed at noon.”

Finnick tilts his head for a moment, making a face, “I mean…”

You slap the side of his head before he can say anything else, “You don’t have to prove you’re a teenage boy.”

The Morning Line Odds say that everyone is still at where they were yesterday, so there’s no need to take in new information. You’re really just left to sit and wait for anything important to happen inside of the arena. In the meantime, you talk to Finnick and Gloss about the unusual silence. With your guys’ luck, it’s not going to last very long. There’s no way that the gamemakers will allow two normal days in a row.

However, today’s the ninth day of the games. You’re sure they’re going to want to keep it going on for a little while longer, so maybe they will allow fate to be in the tribute’s hands. In that case, you all might as well buckle up for a long day, because it’s going to take hours for Sanguin to make it to Annie, with the pace she’s going right now.

It’s almost ten in the morning when people begin showing up inside of the betting room. All brightly dressed, and particularly chatty this morning. This is when you decide to officially sit between Finnick and Gloss, not wanting the sponsors to see that you’re in a skirt today. Finnick seems happy, which is all that matters.

Unfortunately, Annie wakes up. She jolts, eyes flying open as she reaches for her knife. She gets to her feet without a word, carefully making her way across the bedroom to the window, where she rubs it down to look outside of it. Her eyebrows are drawn together, staring straight at the dam. 

She seems satisfied for a second, gently nodding to herself. She goes to move away, until Sanguin comes into clear view. For half a second, you think to yourself that it’s a good thing that Annie is paranoid, because she just spotted the threat she’s been waiting for. After that, Annie scoops up all of her belongings, not leaving a single trace that she was there, besides the now-clean window.

She carefully goes down the steps, making it to the base floor without falling through the floorboards. Outside, she takes a deep breath, shuts the door and tries to jam some rocks beneath the door to make it harder to open. She tiptoes in grass to make sure that there’s no footprints, makes it a few houses over before she even considers walking through the dirt again.

None of it matters in the end.

A thunderous crack echoes throughout the arena so loudly that it breaks the microphones and makes several people scream out in surprise. You all watch in deafening silence as the dam continues to crack, and water begins to spurt out in large streams.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Today is the day.

You stand from the couch, moving a few feet forward to see better. Finnick and Gloss join you, not a single word passes between you three as you watch in awe. If such small cracks are already sprouting in streams big enough to create rivers, then how will the rest of the water fare? You have no choice but to wait and watch.

The screen is now in four, with one long screen on top completely dedicated to the dam, and three bottom squares for the tributes.

Tekla is on her feet, already rushing down the hill. She’s got no weapons on her hand, no backpack to weigh her down. She’s left it all behind in her peaceful circle in the woods. She whips through bushes, swings around trees, barely makes it over root and rocks on her way down. She’s freaked, struggling to keep her hair out of her face, constantly tucking it behind her ears.

Her feet look like they have a mind of their own, though. With the way that she goes down, it’s almost like she’s dancing, how flowery it is. However, her panic isn’t easily masked. She’s obviously shaking, and sometimes she’ll fuck up and have to catch herself before it’s too late.

Sanguin is standing on top of the hill, everything still on her as she stares at the water making its way towards her. Her eyebrows are pushed together, trying to assess the situation and if it’s worth worrying over. The answer is yes, because it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the concrete blows, and she’s left with a real problem. She slowly turns her back to it, picking up her pace, jogging through the grass. She’s still carrying all of herself.

And finally, Annie is also running through the buildings, just as panicked as Tekla is. The only thing that Annie has is her knife, clutched with white knuckles. She’s as white as a sheet too, breathing heavily through her mouth. You can empathize with her, even if she’s a while away, she knows that she can still be reached.

Another large crack sounds, Tekla slaps her hands over her ears and risks a glance behind her. There’s a jagged horizontal crack that runs from the right side to the left. It’s a matter of time before it goes. The concrete is spider-webbing, developing into a worse problem. Tekla tries to quicken her pace, but there’s only so fast you can go downhill before you risk hurting yourself.

Sanguin has dropped her things, running as fast as she did to catch up with Bauhinia. Her feet slam into the ground, and launch her forward another couple of feet before she’s connecting with the dirt again. She makes it across the second lower clearing, going uphill again. Those hills are going to be an absolute killer when it comes to the water.

The gamemakers are evil. It’s been exactly nine days, ten minutes and forty seconds since the tributes got inside of the arena. You said a week and a half? It hasn’t even been that. They’re in a hurry to get the big event over before one tribute can kill another. Why? Because it’s more fun cheering on the running tributes than watching them kill each other. It’s like betting on a running horse, who’s going to make it to the finish line first?

Annie stops, taking in deep breaths as she watches the dam through a row of trees. She’s able to watch as the final crack breaks the dam open like an egg. Concrete and debris go flying into the trees as the water creates a nasty flattening path through the woods. Almost every tree that the front water initially hits, is uprooted and brought with.

Tekla’s scream is piercing, lasting a couple of seconds before she’s completely cut off. She doesn’t die immediately, you’re able to watch as the water brings her along. She’s suspended in the middle, legs kicking, hands wrapped around her throat. She has half the mind to hold her breath, so that’s good news. The bad is that she’s a quarter mile underwater. There’s no way she’ll make it to the surface in time, if she did know how to swim.

You think you’ll have to watch her drown when she runs out of air, but an entire tree branch goes straight through her back and out the middle of her chest. Bubbles erupt around her face, hands grabbing the wood just before the cannon sounds. One down, three to go.

Sanguin has one more hill to make it up before she’s in the village. Her arms are pumping, face a bright red, her glances over her shoulder are quick and spared. She doesn’t do it often because it slows her down, it’s a brief check to see how far ahead she is in front of the water. And the truth is that it’s catching up on her. Just like you said, the hills are a nightmare.

Not only because she has to run up them, which tires her out more. But because the water gains momentum and unpredictability with every hill it surges over. The water doesn't seem to endlessly pour out of the dam, though. It seems like the gamemakers had a prepared forcefield. They just wanted to let out a controlled amount of water. Big enough to kill a couple of tributes before it thinned out and became a minimal threat.

Sanguin starts uphill the same moment the water hits the hill just behind her. Down it goes for a couple of seconds, before it’s surging above her in a giant wave. Sanguin makes it into the village, running beneath the roofs as if it’ll protect her from the water. She runs straight for a while, before starting to zig zag towards the corner. 

She must realize that it’s not worth it, and that the diagonal running only slows her down, because she goes back to running straight, heading closer and closer to where Annie had been staying. 

Speaking of which, Annie’s on the run again. You can tell that she’s keeping track of the height of the water. Even though the houses are decades old, they seem to be slowing down the water, since they’re all individually filling up inside. Sanguin doesn’t seem too focused on the fact, mostly wanting distance. She’s almost on the brink of losing it, though. Her steps are getting sloppier the more she goes.

Annie goes around a corner and into an alleyway, effectively blocking the water from her sight. It’s stupid, she’s not going to be able to keep track of it the same way she has. Sanguin has a point when it comes to running straight away from the water.

And then she starts climbing the walls. With how narrow the walkway is, she can scoot her way up little by little. It burns a lot of her time, and cranks up your anxiety, watching her do this. You know that she’s trying to get herself above the tide now. The houses where she’s at, are at least two stories tall each, not counting the roof.

Annie grabs the gutters, using her arms to pull her onto the red-orange shingles. You get a glimpse from where she’s at now to see that the water is lower, but she’ll still have to swim, even if she gets onto the high point of the roof. She takes one last look at her knife before she frisbee’s it to her right, making sure that it’s far away from her when the water does come.

Sanguin is losing ground. Soon, she’ll be stuck swimming too. It seems like that their times are lining up. Annie bends her knees, cracks her fingers, prepares her arms. Sanguin’s glances get more and more frequent, anticipating the moment the water hits her.

Annie dives straight in, letting the water welcome her. She doesn’t waste time, swimming straight to the top. Her face is serious, she has her eyes locked on the surface, kicking her legs hard, arm over head. While Sanguin holds her breath, fingers squeezing her nose shut, eyes following the structures in front of her. She narrowly misses the wall of the first house, before slamming right into the neck.

Just like with Tekla, there’s a large burst of bubbles. Sanguin struggles now, trying to swim to the top. She makes a few inches at a time, but it’s hardly noticeable, or comparable with how well Annie is doing. In fact, she’s reached the surface already, inhaling loudly.

The water directs Sanguin into a wall again, this time her head cracks against the wall. The water turns a light shade around her head, and it’s minutes before the cannon finally sounds. Which signals the water to drain, lowering Annie onto a roof nearby.

Her dark hair is stuck to her face and neck, clothes completely drenched. Her mouth is slightly parted, breathing loudly.

You grab onto Finnick’s arm, “Oh my god.”

“Congratulations, guys.” Gloss has got a grin on his face, he slaps you on the back.

“She did it.” you say, “Annie’s done it!”

Claudius Templesmith’s, the announcer, voice comes over the arena, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Seventieth Hunger Games, from District Four, Annie Cresta!”

Annie’s face drains of color again, before it’s bursting in red, “I win.” she murmurs at first, barely audible, before tears of relief are filling her eyes. Much louder, this time she screams; “I win!”

--

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

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Fics I Absolutely Adore and Would Recommend to Anyone

I’ve been meaning to do this for a long, long time, because I love reading fanworks and they deserve a lot of love and I love sharing things that I love. 

Obviously this isn’t everything, and if it’s not on this list that doesn’t mean I don’t love it, it just means I forgot at this moment. I will be adding to the list and I remember things or come across it again. (Trying to sort through my bookmarks and subscriptions is like trying to catch a fish bare-handed.) I’m also gonna shy away from the one-shots, even though I adore fun one-shots, just for the sake of organization. The list would be super long otherwise, and those are best sorted by fandom. Here... Here are just some brilliant works I want to rant about. 

Disclaimer: I say “recommend” because I would recommend these works, any time any place, but do keep in mind the story’s rating and tags and stuff. Not everything is kid-friendly.

There is absolutely no hierarchy to the list below. They are added as I add.

Fairy Dance of Death

by Catsy ( @fairydanceofdeath​ )

Fandom: Sword Art Online Word Count: 660,282 Status: ongoing

「AU reboot of the entire SAO storyline, beginning from the premise that Kayaba Akihiko was obsessed with magic and Norse Mythology rather than swords and pure melee. As a result, he created the Death Game of Alfheim Online rather than the floating castle of Aincrad—a world in which player-killing is not a crime, and the nine player races are in competition with each other to reach the top of the World Tree. Multi-POV epic following the stories of multiple canon characters throughout the game.」

If Catsy wrote the SAO light novels and anime, SAO would be among the legendary series. Fairy Dance of Death has this amazingly simple premise of making Alfheim Online, the video game from the original series’ less-than-stellar second part, the game that the main cast becomes trapped in. However, it’s so much more. They took the characters and made them characters, and everyone gets ample spotlight—even background characters that normally wouldn’t receive a second thought. It’s masterful work, and to boot, there is a lovely frame of in-game mystery and player conflict. The organization is phenomenal and I aspire to world-build the way they did. Not to mention that stakes are so much higher and this series has ripped my heart to shreds more than once. 

It has also brought me great joy, and even when I was in the dumps and didn’t want to read anything, a FDOD update made me pick up my phone and read when I otherwise wouldn’t have. It has a really special place in my heart. It updates once in a blue moon, but that’s okay. 

Even if you have never seen a single piece of Sword Art Online, Fairy Dance of Death is still a great read. In fact, it’s the Better Version of SAO, if we’re all being honest, so I would especially recommend it if you hadn’t seen the original. Or if you have. The characters are given so much love and detail, to the point where Fairy Dance of Death’s characterizations are More Canon to me than Kawahara Reki’s work. It is just a beautiful piece of fiction, and it makes you question the depravity of man on levels that SAO shied away from. 

Poisoned Dreams

by StrangeDiamond

Fandom: Genshin Impact Word Count: 82,852 Status: Complete, with a complete sequel and more to come

「 Every night now, Diluc dreams of death. Usually Kaeya's. In between these nightmares his life is falling apart. It doesn't take Kaeya long to realize that this is something much more insidious than simple bad dreams. His brother's life and sanity are on the line and there is nothing Kaeya won't do to save him. Bonus chapter added.」

In a growing fandom from a new game, StrangeDiamond swooped in and characterized these bad boys so well I think it’s canon. It really breathes life into the video game lore, and it’s an A+ depiction of awkward sibling re-bonding post-Terrible-Happenings. Poisoned Dreams can be read alone with a basic understanding of Genshin storybuilding, but StrangeDiamond has an entire group of fics and oneshots set in the same headcanon, and they integrate them really well and subtly together. Not to mention that the narrative style is really clever with making you question what is real and what is dream (a big point in this story) and the inner voices of the point-of-view characters are very compelling. 

One Word to Change the World

by AgentMalkere 

Fandom: Fairy Tail Collective Word Count: 43,988 (30 parts) Status: probably never coming back

「 In just one universe, Ultear called out to her mother instead of turning away and the fate of Fairy Tail and the world was irrevocably altered. These are glimpses of a world where a single word made all the difference.

In other words, welcome to the Butterfly Effect - Fairy Tail style. 」

It’s a really cute canon-divergent, and while the series makes no attempt to re-write Fairy Tail, it addresses the major events and just snippets in between. It does a good job at giving the vast cast ample spotlight, but it’s also an easy read. It’s special to me because it was the series that made me really pay attention to Bickslow in particular, and I respect that.

Vigilantis Pretium Libertatis

by aradian_nights 

Fandom: Attack on Titan Word Count: 399,226 Status: Complete

「 Five years ago, an accident freed Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, and Armin Arlelt from an experiment that forced the most extraordinary powers onto them. After five years of separation, of being raised apart to be heroes by a set of three very different adults, they meet again. As they uncover the truth behind their captivity they realize being free and being heroes are sadly nothing but an illusion. 」

This wrecked me.

I still remember when I read it. It was the beginning of 2018, and I had the flu and a lot of time on my hands, so I binge-read this. It was simultaneously the best and the worst thing I have ever done, because I resonated with it so deeply there were times I was just staring up at the ceiling wondering what was real. I empathized with the characters to a level I rarely achieve, and I empathize easily. I laughed. I cried. It was amazing.

I refer to this story in conversation to this day. It handled themes published authors have only dreamed of achieving. Heck, if Dani (the author) took out the names of the AoT cast and replaced it with new ones, it could be its own stand alone novel. It is worldbuilding from the ground up, and any fandom knowledge you take in with you is used against you like a knife leveraged against your throat. Yet, no one is out of character. It’s phenomenal. I would say more, but this is something I daren’t spoil for anybody, because you must be as wrecked as I was. Vigilantis Pretium Libertatis is a level of writing I achieve to gain as a writer myself. It is a masterpiece in every sense of the word.

Life in Glass Houses

by blueskyscribe ( @blueskyscribe​ )

Fandom: Transformers (Transformers Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass) Word Count: 119,900 Status: Ongoing (maybe, I hope)

「 No one would have thought Bumblebee and Knock Out were capable of getting along, but when they're stuck in a strange new world and their only hope of survival is cooperation . . . Yeah, they're probably doomed. 」

I could be biased because Knock Out and Bumblebee are two of my favorite characters, but it really is brilliant. Two enemies, stuck together—but not in an overly cliché way. It’s the right amount of cliché, with heaps moral conflict and inner conflict and sometimes just beating each other with a broom when no one is looking. It’s also a fascinating look into what makes a character the way they are in relation to the morals they possess, and how stalwart those morals can be. I can’t help but think of this story whenever I see or write a “role reverse” or mirror-verse AU. It does an excellent job at making all of the characters engaging and their own character, despite being in a mirror-verse.

Yesterday Upon the Stair

by PitViperOfDoom ( @pitviperofdoom​ )

Fandom: My Hero Academia Word Count: 424,070 Status: Complete

「 Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weird quirkless weakling on top of it.

But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless. Even before meeting All-Might and taking on the power of One For All, Izuku isn't quirkless.

Not that anyone would believe it if he told them. 」

As a person who normally doesn’t read these kind of minor canon divergences, especially at the time of reading, I frickin’ love this fic. In fact, I think YUTS gave me a deep appreciation for canon divergence fics. It’s MHA in all of its glory but it’s so much more, and even the parts that rehash canon give new light to the characters and their points of view. 

I had read Viper’s work before and saw Yesterday Upon the Stair filling my inbox, and then I finally watched My Hero Academia. It was one of the first MHA fics I read and it still has a very special place in my heart. I recommend this series to people who don’t even watch MHA; in fact, there are some who might prefer the darker tones and themes of heroism vs apathy to the main series. Not to mention the writing style is phenomenal, and I aspire to be that good. It made me laugh. It made me cry. Yes, tears streaming down my face crying. It is the best ghost story I have ever read.

the Vantage Point Universe

by Aggie2011 ( @aggie2011whoop​ )

Fandom: The Avengers (MCU) Collective Word Count: 1,032,651 (35 parts) Status: Ongoing (just slowed down)

「 Six months after the Loki incident, Clint isn't adjusting well. When an enemy from his days in the Army comes back to haunt him, he'll be forced to face a part of his past - and to move past Loki, if he has a hope of finding his place with the Avengers. (First of a universe created to center around Clint Barton) 」

// description taken from first installment

Have you enjoyed the MCU, especially the first-era Avengers phase, but like me, were disappointed in the fact that Hawkeye was barely there? The VP universe is for you. 

I honestly have a hard time remembering what was canon and what was VP. And if it’s not canon, it should be. The VP universe gave so much life to Clint and to Natasha and to all of SHIELD and even the rest of the Avengers. It’s just...so good. It’s completely immersive. It focuses a lot on Hawkeye and Black Widow from before the Avengers team-up, as well as after, and it all flows together so beautifully. Not to mention that I can be reading a mission that happened pre-series, so I know that they are going to live with all of their limbs, and I still sit there on the edge of my seat the whole time.

The OCs, minor as they are, that are created for this are also wonderfully done. I can’t believe Dan and Phil don’t exist in canon. Every character, canon or no, is engaging and dynamic, it is a pleasure to follow each point of view. The emotional turmoil is also handled very well, and the VP universe carries the MCU trend of humanizing its heroes and takes it so much further. 

Ghosts of the Future

by Evan Stanley ( @evanstanleyportfolio​ )

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog Word Count: comic (18 issues) Status: ongoing

「 About 200 years in the future, Silver the Hedgehog is an average kid living in San Francisco... except for his strange and terrible dreams of a dying Blue Hedgehog, a Black Hedgehog, and mysterious gems called "Chaos Emeralds". What will he do, when these "figments of his imagination" appear before him in his real life? 」

// description taken from first installment

Okay so this is the only one that isn’t an Ao3 story, but rather a comic on DeviantArt. However, it is still one of my favorite stories. Even though it takes the commonalities of Sonic canon and turns them on its head, GotF really treats the characters well. There are enough familiar world elements to create intrigue, but it is set in a completely different take of the future, so there is ample opportunity for world building and being able to engage with a completely new thing. I wish SEGA put as much love in the series (namely the games, because the comics are *chef’s kiss*) and all of its possibilities as creators like Evan Stanley do.

The friendship and family relationships in GotF are so diverse and all so fantastic to witness. It’s a keynote example of the new hero and the old veterans, and both parties are active and trying their best.

Do not be alarmed by the starting art style. Sure, it’s rough around the edges at first, but then it gets better, and then it gets gorgeous, and then you’re left there so stunned that it looks like just life canon art. And then you could be like me, blinking slowly as my small brain finally connected that this Evan Stanley is in fact the Evan Stanley. GotF is an amazing fanwork, but she also draws and writes for the Official Canon comics (the IDW ones now) and that work is also phenomenal and should be supported. 

Whirlwind

by Lynse ( @ladylynse​ )

Fandom: Danny Phantom, American Dragon: Jake Long, Miraculous Ladybug, Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja Word Count: 75,556 Status: Complete

「 Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny really should've expected something like this when he got that phone call from Jake. (Secret Quartet fic) 」

I have to start by saying that I adore all of Lynse’s fics, and I chose this one simply because it is one of my favorites. But it’s all fantastic, one hundred percent. I also love Mirrored, the sort-of prequel to this fic, but Whirlwind just has the chaotic pure bean energy that each of the shows bring and it foils against each other so perfectly. This is the epitome of the Secret Quartet crossover, truly.

All fandoms and all characters get ample love, and the way the reader gets to see just how badly the characters’ assumptions are going is positively wonderful. It’s so easy to fall into the “I know what’s happening and so do the characters” trap, but Lynse leaps over it gracefully and lands in greatness. The fic had me smiling like a maniac one minute, and feeling sorry for my babies the next. Wonderful. Simply fantastic!