#but they meet consistently during their travels to fall into each other's arms once again

[lots-of-fandoms-ps-help-me]

finished greywaren.

[apompkwrites]

reader impact || first meeting

series masterlist characters: xiao, albedo genre: fluff summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you. notes: have i read a few genshin impact x game character reader stories and impulsively decided to make one too? maybe. you can't prove anything. i don't know if this will be a series but we'll see :D

xiao's playthrough -

xiao, named as alatus on his streaming platform, has made himself known as a gaming streamer with an awkward personality and blunt words.

he's the type of streamer who wouldn't have a set type of game and would, instead, play whatever his viewers recommended.

valorant? sure, he'll try it out.

hitman? why not?

animal crossing? it's a complete 180 from the other games, but sure.

when one of his viewers recommended genshin impact, he was quick to say yes and search for the game.

once the game finishes downloading, he quickly begins the game.

once the opening cutscene passes, he compliments the overall aesthetic of the game, pointing out the smaller details such as the footprints made by his character and the sound their clothes make when they move.

as always, his expressions are quite monotone to a point where it seems nothing draws his attention towards the game.

one of his mods, however, knows xiao well enough to where he knows which character he would like.

they convince xiao that the game is worth sticking with towards the second half of chapter 1, act 1.

he doesn't understand but he trusts his mods so he promises to continue.

it takes a few hours, especially because of the grinding, but a few streams later he's finally made it.

after fighting a one-sided argument with cloud retainer, he immediately begins his trek to the wangshu inn. and yes, trek, he enjoys walking/gliding through the world of teyvat rather than fast traveling everywhere.

he walks up the stairs to the top floor of the inn, resting his hands in his lap as the cutscene begins.

"to the blind, everything may not be as it appears..."

xiao is normally stoic during games, even ones with scenes made to fluster the player and catch them off guard.

but not this time.

once xiao's character is faced with yours, he just stops. his chat is spamming messages, asking if he's okay and if he's actually emoting for once.

he just stares at your character for a good five minutes.

and trust me, at least half of his viewers clipped that.

"... who are they?"

that was his only question after those minutes of silence. never before had he been attached to a character within the first few minutes of meeting them. his mind is racing and all he can think about is how amazing your character design is and how nice your voice is and how cool your character is and--

oh right, he's streaming right now...

anyway, the more your conversation goes on, the more he loves your character.

you're just so sassy and snappy but he loves you either way.

once you turn away with your back towards the camera, he just stares.

he stares at the intricate tattoo on your exposed arm and the mask hanging off of your belt.

and then you're gone.

his face drops so quickly and his viewers are very quick to point it out. he grimaces once paimon starts talking and he's very tempted to just speed through her dialogue.

he just wants to see you again.

once he hears from verr goldet that you've never smiled (at least around her), he immediately turns to the camera and says, "we better make them smile in this game."

once he finds out about your favorite food, he's already asking his viewers if he's able to get the recipe for it.

the next time he gets to talk to you, his face just lights up once he sees your character standing on the balcony.

however, once his characters tell you about rex lapis's death, his heart sinks when he hears how sad your voice becomes, even if your tone is still as harsh as before.

he gets all sad again when the quest ends and he has to wait to unlock the next archon quest.

he ends the game there and decides to spend the last few minutes talking to his viewers.

"i'll stream genshin again soon."

his viewers all know it's only because he met you.

albedo's playthrough -

albedo often does art streams and the occasional science-y stream.

if he does games, he mainly uses them to admire the art/mechanics of the gameplay.

genshin impact was one of those games he decided to play on his own solely because of the beautiful scenary.

(and the opportunity to draw more characters).

he's definitely the player that cares about elemental reactions above all else. pretty much every character he uses is built for elemental damage instead of physical.

most of his genshin streams are him walking around teyvat and pointing out the scenary.

he was definitely excited for the dragonspine event because that meant a better view of teyvat!

what he wasn't prepared for, however, was the reveal of a new character: you.

he isn't too into looking at the updates for genshin on his own, so he didn't find out about who you were until his stream asked about it.

he decided to react to the newest updates live since his chat seemed excited to hear his input.

once he pulled up the latest update details, he spent a few minutes talking about the new subzero mechanic.

but once he scrolled down to the characters... OH BOY

he's able to keep his composure but he definitely spends longer talking about you.

he almost gasped when he saw you were the chief alchemist of mondstadt.

combine that with the fact that you rely on elemental damage instead of physical...

your honor, he's fallen hard.

he'll put a countdown on stream to when your character and event drops, even on his non-genshin streams.

speaking of those streams, on the week just before your event, his streams will all be based around you and the information he's seen on you.

his art streams will consist of you and how he thinks your attacks will work just based on the description (he purposely avoided all pictures of your attacks for this stream).

his science-y streams would probably be based on your element.

once your event drops, that's the only thing he'll stream until it's over.

your assistant used to be his favorite character to play as but they just never clicked. it's not like he hates your assistant, it's just he didn't immediately fall in love with them.

his party definitely has your assistant in it, though.

he would have normally taken his time to look around dragonspine and admire the new scenery, but he couldn't help but speed through it until he finally gets to see you onscreen.

once the cutscene officially introduces you in front of a canvas, he's internally panicking.

you like art too?! and science?! how perfect can you be?!?!?!

he will genuinely feel bad when he scares the hilichurls because he knows that that's what you were sketching.

"who are you? why did you alarm them?"

NOW HE FEELS EVEN WORSE

even when you tell him you've finished sketching, he wants to make it up to you :((

if he were able to, he would've lured more hilichurls to let you sketch more.

some people in his chat would probably spam him to skip your dialogue because it's so wordy, but that's the exact reason why he listens to it all.

he likes listening to your character ramble on, especially because you have a soothing voice.

anytime your character does their idle animation where you give life to something, he will always let it play. even if your dialogue is finished before the animation, he would not progress until it's completed.

once your character asks for help, he would immediately agree before you finished your sentence.

man just wants to spend more time with you.

he likes staring at the tattoo on your neck whenever the camera is close to you. he just thinks it's really pretty on you.

once your other nonplayable assistant begins talking, he'll skip through the dialogue. he doesn't care if it goes more in depth into this world's alchemy, he just wants to hear it from you.

"hmm, looks like the potion's ready. i'll try a little first."

"please don't..."

he doesn't want you to try it just in case it hurts you :(

anytime he is allowed to walk freely with you around, he'd definitely put his traveler character next to you for a few minutes and just let you two stare at each other.

someone asks him why he spends a few minutes doodling on his desk when you talk.

he shows them the notebook that he had been writing notes in. it's filled with little doodles of you and some more information you give on the world of alchemy.

for future streams the involve you, he'd set up another camera to show the notes and doodles he's making about you.

sometimes he'll spend a few minutes on a single section where the camera is focused on you just to recreate the picture in the notebook.

he absolutely loves whoever planned out the camera angles because of how cute you look in every one of them.

he definitely gets a bad vibe from rosaria when she hints at the fact that you may be using alchemy against him.

he will defend you and alchemy to his grave!

that one scene where you create a flower in front of you is one he will always treasure.

he makes sure someone clipped that moment just so he can draw that, make it a print, and put it on his wall.

since most of his viewers most likely consist of artists, he will encourage them to draw you and send him fanart. he will put them all on a wall and dedicate every picture that goes there to you.

"if i one day lose control... destroy mondstadt... as well as everything around it..."

"huh?"

"will you be there to stop me?"

"wait... no."

if people were only listening to that portion, they would still be able to hear the pout on his face.

he'll end the game there but change his stream into an impromptu art stream.

he will only be drawing you in nice situations to distract himself from the fact that there is something going on with you.

"hm? what do you mean something's wrong with (name)? i have no idea what you're talking about."

poor boy's in denial...

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Chosen (Park Seonghwa) Rated

Pairing: Creature! Park Seonghwa × Human! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Sci-Fi/Fantasy AU.

Summary: Symbolizing purity, innocence, and daintiness, the Daughters of Aster had been hand-picked since a young age to be brought up and raised for a very special task: to carry the offspring of the nobility in the kingdom, which just so happens to consist of cold-blooded humanoid creatures. And now that she's become of age, it's Y/N's turn to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: Tentai content including tentacle bondage, tentacle sucking, breast play, suction play, breeding kink, penetration with tentacles, multiple orgasms, semi voyeurism, reader is a virgin and Seonghwa is whipped for her, mentions of eggs, and stomach bulges. (It's my first time writing actual tentacle smut so I apologize if it sucks.)

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Gulping harshly as she pressed a hand to open the large, metal gate that guarded the huge mansion, the young woman hesitantly stepped inside the spacious and grim-looking garden. Underestimating the weight of the gate, she softly jolted back when it suddenly slipped out of her grasp and clashed back into place. She winced momentarily when the loud noise seemed to resonate, spooking several of the small critters and ravens that roamed around the small terrain. Glancing back, she half expected an old groundskeeper to swoop out of one of the trees and chastise her reckless behavior. But nothing surrounded the area except the foliage, trees, and rose bushes that added to the beauty of the grand estate.

Gathering back her courage, the quaint young woman took slow and careful steps across the small dirt path that led straight to the front stairs of the mansion. It was a somewhat terrifying architectural design, reminiscent of the old gothic-styled cathedrals from ancient times, not at all fashioned after the pompous and outlandish French designs most of the other members of the aristocracy preferred. The gray stone walls made the place seem cold and distant, the hardly lit windows signaled that it was probably rarely inhabited, and the black ravens perched on the top of the sculpted angel monuments lined up through the staircase only made the sensation feel more haunting and chilly.

Finally, in front of the main entrance, she hesitated as her fingers brushed along the round metal door handle. She felt frozen with fear as she realized there was no returning after all. This was the moment she had been prepared for her entire life. In a few moments, she was about to meet.....

Her master.

Just that thought sent shivers down her spine. She did not wish to ponder too much on the various horror stories she often heard back in the institute, nor imagine what kind of life she would live now as a surrogate to one of...their kind.

In the very moment she lifted her hand once again, she took a jerked back when the door seemingly opened by itself, a young maid looking surprised to see her standing there. Upon inspecting her attire and recognizing the crest that held her dark blue cloak in place, the maid's expression beamed with joy.

"Oh! You must be Miss Y/N correct?"

Nodding her head and affirming it was indeed she, Y/N felt puzzled when the tiny maid practically yanked her inside, albeit not intended to harm her, she simply seemed excited about her presence, which frankly made no sense to her. It was not as if surrogates were treated with kindness let alone respect. When her hands reached up towards her neck, the young woman was quick to stop her.

"Oh please! Let me do that for you."

Although she was not particularly fond of people coming up so close in her personal space, she maintained a calm demeanor whilst the maid removed the long cloak off her frame, delicate hands folding it perfectly and tucking it under her arm.

"I'll have this cleaned and ironed out for you Miss before taking it back to your room. You must be famished after coming here after such a long journey." She paused briefly and examined Y/N's complexion, which seemed rather pale and depleted, making her pout rather sadly at the state their new guest was in.

"If you would like, I can ask the cook to prepare a meal for you. Do tell, what is your favorite dish?"

Y/N waved a dismissive hand at the kind lady's offer.

"Please, do not trouble yourself. I am not the least bit hungry." Indeed, it was not a lie. She was overly anxious and uneasy that she did not believe it to be possible to even fathom stomaching any sort of sustenance at that moment.

"If you do not mind and if it is allowed... I would much prefer to retire for the evening." Y/N humbly requested.

Nodding with the understanding that the new company was weary, the young maid took hold of a golden bell tied around her waist and proceeded to ring it moderately. In mere seconds, a tall sharply dressed gentleman came up and bowed towards her.

"Cedric would you please escort Miss Y/N to her room?"

Gesturing for her to follow, the butler guided her up the flight of stairs into the second story of the house. Passing through a long corridor, Y/N glanced now and then at the outside patio through the windows that overlooked the gardens. They were much larger than what she initially thought, and the longer she looked, the denser the trees seemed to appear. She was so distracted by the scenery that she nearly collided face-first into the poor butler's back had he not spoken up first and made her steps come into a screeching halt.

"This will be your room from now on miss." Producing a string of keys out of his pocket, Cedric unlocked the door and gently pushed it open, stepping inside to make room for Y/N to pass.

Her breath was nearly taken away by the sheer size of the room. It was double the size of the old living space she used to share with 6 other girls back in the institute and was furnished with more than what she'd ever need. The decor too seemed like something more befitting for someone of the family than for someone of her station.

"If there is anything the matter with the decor or should you prefer a different pattern, you may simply speak the word and the Master shall arrange for the room to be modified as you like."

At the mention of the Master, Y/N felt that nerve-racking tingle travels down her body once again.

"Shall you need any assistance, please feel free to ring the bell attached by your bed and one of us will be more than happy to aid you?" Reaching for the door handle, Cedric bid her good night before closing the door to leave her to her thoughts.

Still feeling cold from the long walk, Y/N stepped closer to the fireplace, outstretching her hands in hopes of warming them up. She was grateful that although not expecting her early, they had prepared a nice fire to warm up her room. After getting filled with the heat, Y/N went over to one of the dressers so that she could change into her night attire. Upon opening the many drawers, she was shocked at not finding any of her old clothes, instead, there was an abundance of luxurious clothing which she did not recognize. Storming over to the large wardrobe, she too found that none of her personal belongings had been delivered, they seemed to have all been replaced with new apparel. Knowing that she had no choice, she went back to the first dresser that she had looked in before and rummaged through to find the plainest and simple nightgown she could find. Reaching for the row of buttons training down the middle of her blouse, she undid them one by one with utter care before slipping it off her body, letting the garment fall on the floor. Running the zipper down, her long and flowing skirt joined her blouse, one foot delicately kicking them away for the time being. Standing there in nothing but her undergarments made Y/N suddenly feel apprehensive. She carefully looked around the room again, feeling the strange sensation that someone was watching her. Shaking that thought out of her head, she quickly threw the nightgown over her head and finished dressing. The fabric was soft to the touch and it didn't scratch against her delicate skin, but the most surprising factor was that it fit like a glove on her body. It made her wonder if perhaps they had prepared it in advance or it was merely a coincidence.

Picking up her discarded clothes, she neatly placed them on the table near her, slightly folding them and smoothing them over. Going over to the bed, she pulled back the covers before sliding her body onto the mattress and covering herself. She couldn't help the small blissful sigh coming out of her mouth as her sore limbs welcomed the soft and comfortable bed, the pillow feeling like a fluffy cloud. As she laid there, she began to reminisce about all the events that led up to that very moment, or more specifically, that very morning during the Auctioning.

Hearing the loud applause coming from the other end of the room, Y/N tried to calm her nerves, knowing she was the next one in line to face the crowd. As soon as she took one step forward, she was stopped by none other than the Head of the Institute, who took hold of her wrist and looked at the girl behind her.

"Abigail, you go next. Y/N, you're coming with me."

Without so much as a further explanation, Y/N found herself dragged away from the waiting room where her fellow inmates also looked at each other in confusion at the sudden interruption. Y/N wanted to speak up and ask what was happening, was she not to be auctioned off to one of the many noble families? The old woman of course knew all the questions Y/N had, but she didn't say a word until they were outside in the front of the building, where there was a carriage awaiting her.

"Your personal belongings have already been sent out to your new home. We've received word to have you delivered as soon as possible." Even with that brief explanation, Y/N still didn't understand anything. Noticing her distressed state, the Headmistress sighed softly.

"Y/N, you are not to be auctioned off like the rest of the girls. Someone has already purchased you many months back, but it seems they accidentally forgot it and thus added you to the lineup. Luckily, I managed to find you before you stood up on that platform. Certainly avoided a disaster." The old woman chuckled, yet that did not relieve Y/N's worries.

What did she mean someone had already bought her? Who were they? Where was she sold off to?

Unfortunately, none of those questions were answered, instead, she found herself being pushed inside the carriage and speedily taken away to an unfamiliar side of the country that she had never seen before, away to who knew where until she ended up right in the place she was currently in.

Drowsy and tear-filled eyes eventually closed even whilst remembering the events of the day. Y/N knew she was more than likely lucid dreaming as she slowly drifted off to sleep. She didn't feel fully unaware of her surroundings though, and perhaps it was that skeptical feeling that kept her on edge and guarded against anything around her. It especially came into help when she seemingly felt something stroke her cheek, gliding down to caress the outline of her jaw. At first, she believed it was nothing more than her imagination, but when she felt a thumb running across her bottom lip, she opened her eyes, screaming and sitting up when she saw a dark figure standing right in front of her. He was started himself by her outburst, immediately retracting his hand when he witnessed how agitated his innocent act had made her.

"I'm sorry..... I didn't mean to frighten you." His voice was soothing and low, clearly intended so that she'd calm down.

"Would you mind if I..." His gesture indicated that he wanted permission to come near her again, which she felt like she had no choice but to give.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, the handsome stranger reached out and cupped the sides of her face, moving it slowly to the left and then towards the right, eyes drinking up every detail of her countenance.

"My God, you're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you tending to the gardens in that place."

Hearing those words made Y/N widen her eyes. How did he know about that? Unless...

"Are... Are you my new master?" She couldn't even believe it.

The young man giggled softly.

"If you don't mind, I would much rather prefer if you called me by my name, Seonghwa." He introduced himself. Y/N briefly nodded, but obviously, it wasn't enough for him as he leaned in close, nose nearly bumping into her own.

"Please say it." He urged her to.

"Seonghwa." She breathed out his name, to which he let out a gentle smile as one of his hands moved to tuck some of her hair behind her ear.

"Once again, I apologize for startling you, my dear. I just got impatient and couldn't resist myself. I just had to see you." He confessed before getting up out of her space.

"You must be tired so I'll leave you be now. Get some rest love and I'll see you in the morning."

Y/N expected him to walk towards the same door she had come inside from, but she looked with astonishment as Seonghwa went over towards another door which she had mistakenly assumed to be her bathroom, and opened it up.

"My room adjoins to yours, so if you ever want to come and see me, I'm just a knock away." He fought hard to not laugh at her flustered expression, whispering out another good night before retreating into his chambers.

Y/N released a breath she didn't know she was holding. So far her new master looked...normal? Nothing at all like what she expected from the many tales that roamed back at the institute. Seonghwa was nothing that she expected, exceptionally beautiful, poised, kind, and gallant. But she knew she could not be fooled by his charming manners, after all, none of the members of the aristocracy were actual humans...

And it was only a matter of time before she figured out what sort of monster Seonghwa was.

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Y/N tried to steady her heartbeat as Seonghwa drew closer to her, lips brushing against her own. Although this was the exact moment she had been prepared all her life for, she still felt a tinge of nervousness as she felt Seonghwa's hands clasp around her waist, his body, which was all bare save for the briefs between his thighs, pressing against her own.

"Tell me, my dear has anyone ever kissed you before?" He smiled when she shook her head.

"May I kiss you?" His inquiry sounded so sweet and pure that Y/N didn't think twice about lifting her face and closing her eyes.

Seonghwa's lips were soft, reminding her of the soft petals belonging to the different roses in the gardens outside, precious little buds that she had been granted permission to take care of in the month she had been living with him. He had never once denied her anything and had been very attentive to her every need. And now as he tenderly kissed her, pouring his heart into the loving kiss, Y/N wondered if this is what love felt like, that foreign emotion that she'd often hear spoken about yet always been told it would never be something she or any of the other girls at the Institute would ever experience. She didn't know, but she knew that she enjoyed whatever this was, this feeling of Seonghwa's lips closing over hers, only to pull away and then dive back in, each minute that passed enabling his kissing to become more ardent and passionate. It was truly breathtaking for her, as she'd often find herself gasping for air each time his lips would pull apart from her mouth.

Starting at the corners of her lips, Seonghwa began pressing butterfly kisses down towards her jaw. Y/N's breath hitched, neck tilting back when she felt him nibbling against her skin. It seemed as if he knew exactly where to direct his attention towards, her sharp breaths an indication that she was warming up to his touches. Releasing one hand off her face, he moved it down until his fingers brushed against her collarbone, treading dangerously close to her covered bosoms.

"Now tell me, love has anyone ever touched you here?"

As if on instinct, Y/N arched her back towards his palms when they lightly squeezed at her pillowy mounds, a light, and embarrassed moan being uttered by her for the first time in her life.

"N-no, no one's ever touched me there." Her shy confession made him smirk as he then dropped his hand down to lift her flimsy nightgown.

"What about here? Has anyone touched here?"

Cupping her sex, he found it warm and inviting, his body aching to be inside of her, to fill her up and breed her as he wanted to. He didn't need her to answer, just her mouth going agape and emitting the cutest whimpers he had ever heard was enough of an answer.

"No of course not. You're pure and completely untouched by anyone else....." When she felt his fingers slide across her wettened folds, her hands reached out and gripped against his biceps, using them to keep herself steady as they continued exploring her deepest places. It felt so unusual yet wonderful to have Seonghwa pry open her lips, fingers ever so gradually slipping past her tightness to lodge inside her warm cavern. Once settled, they began moving, pulling themselves out before coming back in. To distract her, Seonghwa stooped down to kiss her once more, it felt more rushed than before, tongue occasionally poking outwards to scrape against the roof of her mouth. As his fingers worked hard to stretch her open and mouth busied in devouring her adorable whines, it was all to prepare her and get her to ease up before he continued with anything. Pulling away with a deep inhale, Seonghwa used his free thumb to wipe away the excess saliva on her bottom lip, breath ghosting over her own.

"Y/N... I'm going to need you to stay calm and not freak out. All right?"

By his tone, Y/N deduced that she was about to figure out just what exactly it was that made him different from her. She could feel him hesitate, looking just as scared as she did the first time she arrived at the estate. Just as she was about to assure him that she was not afraid, she felt something crawl up her legs, it was somewhat slimy and had a couple of ridges along the underside of it. Glancing down, she nearly fell back onto the bed when she witnessed two long tentacles wrapping themselves around her thighs, tearing up part of the silk fabric of her nightgown. Before she could stumble back, another tentacle launched out to wrap around her waist, pulling her forward to help her regain her balance. She breathed heavily, looking visibly shocked as she realized they were coming out of none other than Seonghwa himself. He scanned her face, trying to read her reactions. Scared? Disgusted? Apprehensive? It was rather difficult to make out exactly what she thought about his tendrils holding her steady and tightening around her body. Wanting to test something, he produced two more tentacles, these slightly thinner than the previous ones. They moved closer towards Y/N, who of course, instinctively recoiled from the unusual limbs.

"Don't worry. If I were in your position, I'd be utterly revolted as well." Although he spoke out those words with a dry smile, they held a lot of pain within them and it made Y/N saddened to hear him. Wanting to make up for it, she outstretched her hand towards the nearest tendril, the very limb slightly pulling away when it felt her come near. No doubt Seonghwa was hesitant about having her touch him. Undeterred, Y/N reached out once more, this time the tentacle didn't recoil but subtly leaned into her touch. Ever so slowly, it began to wrap around her arm, looping itself around her wrist, and settling itself on top of her palm. Y/N couldn't resist herself as she softly squeezed at the tender limb, thumb curiously playing around with the tiny suction cups along the underside of it. She couldn't help but giggle when it slightly slithered itself to attach some of the cups onto her palm, applying light pressure that had a rather pleasant feeling. So amused by the bizarre member, she didn't realize that the other thin tentacle had moved until she felt it loop itself on her other arm, the same as the one on her right side. Seonghwa felt relieved when she didn't seem afraid anymore, instead, she now smiled up towards him, fingers gently caressing the smooth surface of his tentacles. Unbeknownst to her, he could feel every touch ministered on them, the tentacles being a part of him, an extension of him. And they were highly sensitive to any sort of contact made with them.

"Can we...can we continue?" There was a slight quiver in his voice that did not go unnoticed by the woman held hostage by his slimy tendrils. Understanding exactly what he was referring to, Y/N nodded, eagerly awaiting to see just how Seonghwa would impregnate her.

Feeling herself lifted off the floor, the tentacles gently laid her down on the bed, detaching themselves momentarily off her body as they began poking around at the semi-ruined fabric of her attire. Grasping at several ends, Y/N gasped astonishingly when they tore off the rest of her dress, discarding the remaining pieces on the floor. Laying there completely naked in front of Seonghwa, who did not hide anything in his stare as they raked her entire body. Feeling self-conscious, Y/N moved to cover herself but the tentacles were faster as they wrapped around her wrists and ankles, holding the first ones above her face while the other ones kept her legs apart, allowing Seonghwa to fully gawk at her wetness. The thought of burying himself deep in her and breeding her made him uncontrollably hard.

Y/N squirmed as several more tentacles sprouted out of Seonghwa's body, making her question just how many he could produce. Two medium-sized ones traveled up her sternum, oozing out some sort of secretion that trickled onto her breasts. The tentacles then latched themselves onto her perky mounds, twisting and pulling at her nipples until they hardened and poked out. They continued to toy around with her boobs, flicking against her sensitive nubs now and then before going back to clamp down and attach their suction cups to her tender skin. Y/N shuddered as she felt them slightly vibrate, adding to the daze-inducing state she was drifting off to.

Just as she was distracted in enjoying the pleasure the two tentacles were giving her, she let out a shriek when she felt another slimy organ come up and flit at her clit. The tentacles around her ankles kept her from closing her thighs, leaving her with no choice but to succumb to the movements made in her delicate button. It felt so surreal, so extraordinary, and she writhed around on the bed as much as she was able to when the tiny end of the tentacle sped up and rubbed faster against her swelling clit, the delicious friction making her mouth water. She wondered if this was the bliss some of the girls back home talked about, the ones who had gone out of their way to break the solemn vow they swore about remaining intact and pure, forcing them out of the Institute as they were no longer considered valuable vessels for future buyers.

"If this is what they enjoyed then, I would have gladly broken my vow too." Y/N mused to herself. But then she remembered had she broken her vow she would have never been able to meet Seonghwa, and she'd grown attached to him in that short period of meeting him.

"No... It's better this way. Having saved my body just for him so he can use it as he pleases. Have me carry his children. Oh, God." She felt herself clench around nothing as she thought about being stuffed by him, carrying his babies. Months before, the idea of carrying the offspring of some humanoid stranger horrified her. Now, it thrilled her and she looked forward to it.

"I'm going to slide a few more inside of you now, ok? It might feel uncomfortable, but I promise I'll make sure you don't feel any pain." Y/N vigorously nodded, the tentacles around her ankles spreading her legs further and bringing them up so her knees were bent.

Two thinner tentacles, even thinner than the ones around her wrists came out and began probing around her hole, stretching it ever so slightly before sliding inside her. Y/N felt them scraping against her tender walls, leaving her flabbergasted at feeling them creep deeper and deeper against her right muscles, stopping once they reached her cervix. Ever so carefully, they position themselves at her opening, prying her cervix open. A dull sting shot up her body, not exactly painful, but it wasn't exactly pleasant to feel. Noticing this, Seonghwa made the tentacles release their hold on her tight rim.

"Perhaps I might need to make use of this after all."

Y/N didn't know exactly what 'this' was, all she felt was the two tentacles lightly thrust inside of her, tips flicking up to tease at her sweet spot. And then she felt it, the tentacles oozed some sort of secretion to coat her inner walls, even moving to spread some of the liquid against the entrance of her womb. The tentacle working on her clit had to momentarily stop when Y/N began spasming, small gasps and moans spilling out her lips, not realizing that she had just had a subtle orgasm, but Seonghwa knew. He felt when her juices covered her walls, causing them to become more slick and wet, an effect produced by the natural pheromones his tentacles had just sprayed inside her, helping her to relax and not feel any more discomfort. Although it would also make her highly sensitive, meaning she would become a sticky and panting mess by the end of it, every stroke or brush inside her body would be heightened considerably. And Seonghwa was rather curious to see how that would play out.

Finally, a rather large and thick tentacle sprung out, heading directly towards her opening. It contracted itself as it skimmed past her entrance, flowing smoothly thanks to the previous tentacles that had worked Y/N's core open and the pheromones he had induced into her. At first, nothing seemed to happen, then Y/N's mouth flew open as she felt the tentacle start expanding, bottoming out inside of her, forcing her stretched-out muscles to widen even more. Unable to resist the urge, she looked down, nearly wheezing as she looked at the tightly nestled tentacle inside of her, pulsing inside her slick covered borders. Just those small pulsing vibrations had her throwing her head back as more liquids seeped out of her. Feeling her arousal coating its skin, it seemed to rile up the large tentacle as it began pushing itself further until it reached the entrance of her cervix.

"Usually humanoids of my kind would place as many eggs can fit inside their surrogate's womb... But I don't wish to overwhelm you with that, especially since it's your first time." With a smug grin, Seonghwa stooped forward and placed a hand on top of her abdomen.

"So let's just try it with two."

The large tentacle began contracting once more, wriggling around as if trying to get something out. Y/N soon felt what it was as a smooth, round, and semi-hard object began pushing itself inside of her. The two smaller tentacles, which were still lodged on the sides of her walls, went back to pry her cervix open, allowing the egg easier access as it traveled through her tunnel and nestling itself inside her womb. Seonghwa watched proudly as her belly swelled up as soon as the egg lodged itself in her, fingers brushing against the oval outline bulging out of her skin.

"So pretty, so beautiful." He praised her, teeth tugging down at his bottom lip as a hidden tentacle had come out to rid him of his last article of clothing, stroking his hardened cock generously, the suction cups paying close attention to his leaking head.

"How are you feeling so far love?" Seonghwa wanted to make sure she was fine before proceeding.

Y/N fluttered her eyes open, soft pants spewing out her mouth.

"Please...more." That was all she could manage to mumble out.

Satisfied by her answer, the massive limb started wriggling once more, popping out another egg that scraped deliciously against the roof of her cave, journeying past her barriers and plopping next to the previous egg, joining it inside her womb. With slight embarrassment, Y/N cried out as another wave of pleasure poured out of her, hands wanting to cover her reddened face at the thought of so easily cumming by the mere thought of Seonghwa's eggs inside her while his tentacle continued throbbing inside her.

"Don't feel ashamed my love. I just so happen to enjoy watching your face contort with pleasure." His admittance only made her more sheepish and flustered.

"We're almost done, love. I just need to fertilize my eggs."

Y/N groaned loudly when the tentacle began moving, thrusting itself in and out, her previous juices seeping out every time it pulled out her body, creating a wet stain on the sheets underneath. Maybe it was her imagination, but Y/N swore she could feel the eggs move inside her, bouncing each time the tentacle pushed back inside her. The tendrils around her ankles and wrists tightened themselves, holding her steady as the tentacle started to plunge itself faster and deeper into her, twitching every so often, a sign it was getting ready to squirt into her womb.

Seonghwa was also enjoying the spectacle, watching closely as he was about to impregnate his darling surrogate, the tentacle wrapped around the shaft matching the movement the larger one was doing. He felt blessed to be able to feel both sensations at once, one being his cock stimulated while his tentacle had to endure Y/N's tightness clench unbearably around his slimy member. It was ecstasy for both of them, their grunts and moans echoing inside Seonghwa's room. Wanting her to experience the maximum pleasure he could offer, the tentacles laid out across her chest went back to their previous task of playing with her nipples, suckling on her tender flesh whilst the one between her legs toyed with her swollen clit. It was all so much for her that Y/N couldn't help it as her third orgasm of the night overtook her, this one more intense and prolonged by the endless amount of attention her body was receiving.

"Seonghwa!" She cried out, tears of over-stimulation brimming at the corners of her eyes.

Hearing her call out to him, Seonghwa himself hissed as the tentacle worked him over the edge, spurts of cum trickling down onto it as well as splattering onto the floor. The tentacle that was now coated with his cum moved towards Y/N's face, lightly tapping on her cheek. Turning to face it, she inhaled sharply and didn't hesitate to allow it to slide past her lips and wiggle inside her mouth. She moaned around the appendage, sucking on it, the sensations flowing back to Seonghwa's cock.

"Oh fuck." He exclaimed, the tentacle pushing itself on the back of her throat while the one between her legs rapidly moved to finish its final task.

Y/N's wailing was partially muffled by the tentacle stuffing her mouth, her body and mind spiraling out of control as she felt thick ropes of warm cum being gushed out of the tentacle and shooting straight into her womb. She could even feel her stomach swelling up even more by just the liquids being poured into her. It was enough to have her crying out once more, a state of euphoria clouding her mind as her 4th high shocked her senses, numbing everything except the feeling of the tentacles around and in her. Seonghwa himself didn't need further stimulation, cumming untouched for the second time when he finally finished breeding her, mouth drawing out long and labored breaths as he started to come down from his high.

Slowly, one by one the tentacles started pulling away from Y/N's body, disappearing back into Seonghwa's body. Both of them groaned deeply when the last tentacle pulled out of her agape hole, some of the leftover cum dribbling out onto the bed. Y/N felt so sore and so full, her hands reaching down to caress her now swollen stomach, surprised at how big it looked. She felt ready to pop at any moment. With utmost care, Seonghwa moved her further into the bed, helping her rest her head against one of the pillows and covering her up with the warm blanket. It wasn't long until she felt his body press up against hers, pulling her as close as was possible as one hand protectively wrapped around her belly.

"Thank you..."

She was so weary after that intense session that she could only mumble a barely audible 'huh?' at his words. Chuckling, Seonghwa pressed a kiss against her cheek.

"Thank you for carrying my babies. You have no idea how happy I am at this moment."

She could only manage to give out a faint smile at his words, fastly falling asleep when she felt him hum a soft tune against her ear.

"I'm so glad I chose you."

༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @yunhofingers @deja-vux @brie02 @daniblogs164 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters @rainteez02 @harry-the-pottypus

[thefanficmonster]

All The Colors

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Colorblindness, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: The colors are not always seen but rather felt. Just like Y/N feels the colors through their best friend and boyfriend Corpse. That’s how they realize that what they can’t see is the most beautiful and genuine feeling in the world. The feeling of knowing something and someone so deeply.

Requested by my dear friend Lulu, who you might have known as greenieofshield. Unfortunately she’ll never get to read this fic and I’ll never forgive myself for not putting it out sooner but I’ll also never forgive the universe for being so cruel as to take her away so early. She was one of the best people I’ve ever met, always so full of optimism, always there to brighten up my day and make me smile. Always so strong and brave, never falling victim to the hate she received despite not being deserving of it. The world lost an angel the day she died and I as well as so many other people will forever miss her.

Love you and miss you with my whole soul and hear, Lulu. Hope they’re treating you right in heaven ❤

For what it’s worth, Y/N has never asked people to describe the colors to them. In their eyes that seemed like the equivalent of poorly patching up a wound: they could hear thousands upon thousands of descriptions of each color and still wouldn’t be able to imagine it. The descriptions would only make that worse to them. So to avoid feeling even more like they’re missing out they never asked.

However, that doesn’t mean they haven’t developed their own way to ‘visualize’ and imagine colors throughout the years. They’ve tried loads of different methods, few of which stuck around and not for long either. That is exactly why they frequently used to tell their friends: “You can’t paint me a rainbow with black and white and shades of grey and expect me not to feel like I’m missing out on something. Paint me the gloomy sky on a rainy day and only then we’ll be even cause you’re seeing the same greys I am.”

Little did they know how drastically their logic was about to change in the following years.

Speaking of said following years - they met Corpse who became one of their best friends in practically no time. And within just a few months of that friendship’s blossoming, a romance sparked. A romance their friends would jokingly refer to as ‘romance of a lifetime’. Maybe it was said jokingly but Lord knows they weren’t wrong in saying so because the two were completely head over heels for one another -s till are to this day - and never shied away from showing it.

Y/N and Corpse met through Rae who Y/N was staying with while on a little vacation to Los Angeles. To be even more specific here, the two met through a game of Among Us, the game responsible for many wonderful friendships since its release.

“Guys, guys, guys.“ Y/N said after sparking up a bickering session for falsely accusing ‘blue‘ of faking a task in Navigation during the final round for the day, “Here’s a little rule of thumb for whenever we play together again: don’t trust me if I accuse a color instead of a name.“ It’s safe to say that statement rose a few eyebrows in the Discord call, the confusion serving as amusement to them before they explained themself, “Oh, why that is? Hm, I don’t know, maybe cause I’m colorblind.”

Rae who was in on the scheme the whole time and was struggling to hold in her laughter finally snapped while the rest of the players were left processing the information that had been dropped on them.

“But you practically kicked our ass every single round?!“ Corpse said, amazement and confusion in his tone.

“Expect the unexpected from this schemer, take it from someone who’s known them for a decade now.“ Rae said, winking at her friend from across the room. Not failing to notice the blush on their cheeks while doing so though.

“Corpse, are you calling me a good liar?“ They poked a stick at him teasingly, desperately avoiding Rae’s gaze which widened the second she realized why her friend was so flustered by Corpse’s remark.

“Practically a con artist.“ He replied to them with a laugh, earning one from them in return.

And so they practically conned him into falling in love with them with their quick wit, sarcasm and cuteness. If someone is to ask Corpse if he expected to fall for Y/N, he’d probably say yes.

“They were like a magnet the moment they entered the lobby and started talking.“ He said once on a live stream in response to a question he received in the chat regarding Y/N, “It wasn’t hard at all, falling for them. What took me a while was realizing it. While I was referring to them as ‘best friend’ all my friends were rolling their eyes and going ‘Sure, bud.’ Just took me a bit to realize why.”

Luckily, it didn’t take him too long to grasp what his heart was actually screaming at him. Good thing they came to terms with it so soon too, otherwise they would’ve driven their friends insane.

Anyway, enough about what happened and what could’ve happened under one circumstance or another, what matters is the ‘here and now’ of their relationship. And trust me when I say it has never been better and it keeps getting better every day.

The beauty of what those two have is in the tiny every day things that they do for each other, the good morning texts even though the other person in probably just in the kitchen making breakfast while the other cannot find it in them to get out of bed; or it’s laced within the calls between them when neither of them are home or at least one of them is out and about, busy with a task they’ve probably been putting off for far too long. Don’t get me wrong though, the romantic gestures aren’t rare either. Random gifts are exchanged by them on regular intervals but one consistent and super romantic gesture that repeats a few times every year (of the two years they’ve been dating) is Corpse giving Y/N a bouquet of flowers.

A detail Y/N couldn’t help but take notice of was the fact that the bouquet was always made up of the same flowers with only small changes to the arrangement of them and maybe some tiny ones added too. Unfortunately, they aren’t artificial so they couldn’t have kept them thought they wish they could’ve. That being said, it goes without saying that those flowers mean the world to Y/N, the gesture actually - they know flowers are a common gift to give but anything they receive from Corpse is so special and makes them feel like the only person who’s ever received such a gift.

And so they got curious, they had to ask. They had to ask the question they never thought they’d actively ask considering their view of the topic. But they still did.

“Hey Corpse.“ Y/N spoke up out of the blue, breaking the silence that had fallen over them while they watched the movie they were only partially interested in given how exhausted they both were from devoting themselves to their respective tasks and responsibilities throughout the last few days.

Corpse hummed in response, the arm wrapped around their waist doing a little motion as if encouraging them to continue, his gaze immediately traveling down to his partner.

“What color are the flowers?“ They asked, gazing at the bouquet - a gift they had received from him for their birthday a few days prior - in the vase on the dining table.

They waited a few seconds but when they didn’t hear nor feel any sort of response from him they couldn’t help but look up at him. Upon doing so, they saw his small smile as his eyes too remained on the bouquet. “They’re black and white.“ He replied eventually, “Black roses and white daffodils.“ His gaze wandered away from the vase and down to meet theirs, “I don’t want you to think I’m seeing them in their ‘full beauty’ while you only see them in black and white. You are seeing them in their full beauty and not missing out on anything. They are absolutely beautiful black and white as they are.“

As a response to his answer, Y/N couldn’t suppress the growing smile on their face no matter how hard they tried. So they didn’t try at all, they let the smile lighten up their face before speaking up: “You’re a wonder, Corpse.” They said, pushing themself as upright as they could to be able to kiss his cheek. “However, you’re wrong.” They say when they pull away, smirking up at his confused expression, “My world was black and white until you came into it. You’re all the colors, Corpse. Your love’s red, joy’s yellow, sadness blue, chaos green. Love red. You’re all the colors and out of all the people that have tried to describe to me how they look, you have managed to do that just perfectly without even trying.”

Little did they know that’s exactly what he thinks of them - their world is black and white because all the colors live within them. Because they are all the colors.

And maybe they both are, seeing as how they came into each other’s lives exactly like the rainbow after the pouring rain.

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[mianavs]

the punishment

Falling in Stockholm part 4

tw: abuse, torture

wc: 1.6k

Falling in Stockholm

Normal

You felt normal. For the first time since you had been taken, you were filled with a sense of normalcy waking up on a warm bed, in your pajamas, and the energy of your quirk tickling your fingertips. You flexed your hand out of habit and sure enough your quirk’s energy manifested in the usual form of a disk-shaped shield. The reappearance of your quirk washed away any lingering sleep and you almost bolted out of the room then and there—at least, until Dabi’s soft snoring grounded your thoughts and you moved quietly and carefully.

You rose from the bed, slowly, knowing that one loud movement would wake your captor. Dabi was still fast asleep when you tiptoed to his coat on a wooden chair and fished for the keys. With trembling hands and blood pumping in your ears, you fisted the keys to keep them from jangling and took your hand out of the pocket. While focusing all your attention on the keys, your knee accidently bumped against the chair and you froze, not daring to look in his direction. You waited for the creaking of the bed, the roar of his flames, or the throbbing pain from his blows—but none of them came. You darted your eyes to the bed but Dabi was still sprawled on the bed with his chest rising and falling in an even rhythm.

Adrenaline still pumping through your veins, you moved to the door and started trying each of the seven keys on the lock. You needed to be quick, not knowing when Dabi would wake, but your trembling hands made it difficult to quietly work on the lock . Your life depended on how fast you could open the door and that fact alone had your hands trembling and your heart in your throat.

When the lock finally turned with the fifth key, the bed creaked and you whipped your head around to see Dabi scrambling to his feet. In a second, your right hand was raised and a shield Dabi’s size materialized before using your force to push it in his direction. With no time to lose, you were out of the room before witnessing the damage Dabi had taken from your quirk.

You ran down a dimly lit corridor all the way to the end until reaching an unlocked door that revealed a flight of stairs leading up. The realization you were in a basement was interrupted by the door of the room slamming open and Dabi appearing hunched over. His appearance had you bolting up the stairs with your eyes solely focused on the steel door in front of you. Sunlight shined through the windowpane and its warmth kissed your face making you lose balance and tumble forward. Your hands caught your fall but you still managed to scrape your knee and hit your shins on the concrete steps.

The door behind you slammed open revealing your captor and you rushed to your feet and made it to the door. Just as you were about to push it, the door swung open and revealed a tall, masked figure in an overcoat. You ran into the figure who caught you by your shoulders while you desperately gripped onto the lapels of his honey yellow coat.

“Help! Help me, please!” You choked out and the figure seemed to regard you before tilting its head to look past you. The figure was way too calm and your instincts told you to get away. The figure nodded once before turning his head to you and the horrifying truth made your blood run cold.

They’re with Dabi

You pushed off the person but they wrapped an arm around you before you could use your quirk. In a second, a flash of blinding blue enveloped you and fogged your mind. A glassy blue wall was all you made out before nodding off.

Darkness was all you saw when your eyelids fluttered open. You were blindfolded and could no longer feel your quirk’s energy flowing through you; an indicator that you’d been drugged by that quirk inhibitor once again. Soft material lay beneath you but your wrists and ankles were bound by a cold leathery material. You shivered from the cold that enveloped your naked body. A couple of tugs from your hands and feet was all it took to understand your situation. Your wrists and ankles were bound to the four-corners of a bed.

Footsteps and muffled voices from the other side of the door put you on edge and you tried to make out what they said.

“I’ll meet him later,” Dabi’s distorted voice said. “I have to discipline my girl first.”

Your terror mounted with every syllable Dabi uttered. He exchanged more words with whom you assumed was the masked person that had trapped you before the door rattled and opened. Fighting the shiver that went down your spine, you feigned sleep as Dabi’s footsteps grew closer before they stopped near the end of the bed. You waited for him to say something only to hear a loud snap before searing pain cut across your abdomen.

“ARGH!”

“Apologize,” he demanded while you were still reeling from whip’s pain.

“Y-you’re insane!”

The whip continued to crash down against your stomach, arms, legs, and chest after every insult you spat at Dabi.

“Monster!”

“Psycho!”

“Freak!”

Before long, the dull pain took over your entire being and words were beyond you. The whip continued to crack against your raw skin even without hurling insults his way. Pain like this you’d only experienced during your days with the Mayor. He’d punished you like this too when you disobeyed him.

The whip eventually stopped but the torture didn’t. Cold water splashed on your face that sent you into shock. You coughed and wheezed and your body shook violently from the reactive pain of your wounds. Soon, your lungs seemed to close up and oxygen became scarce.

“C-can’t…breathe! HELP!”

A harsh blow to your left cheek snapped you out of your panicked state and your chest heaved, finally getting the air it needed.

“…Why…w-why me? It makes…no sense…I’ve never met you.”

You braced yourself for another blow or another whip but instead the contrasting cold of his staples coupled with his hot breath caressed the skin of your thigh. Your unfaithful body writhed as his tongue ran across the swollen red lash marks on his path.

“You have. I saved you outside a club six years ago.”

A memory you had tried so hard to bury rose to the surface of your mind. You’d worked part time at a club/bar during your last year of middle school in order to pay your UA tuition since the orphanage you were at couldn’t afford it and your grades weren’t good enough for a scholarship. The work mostly consisted of cleaning up after guests had already left, but one night a client and his colleagues cornered you in the alleyway. With your quirk, you’d managed to inflict some damage on them but they soon showed their true villainous colors and overpowered you. Their filthy hands roamed your body and assaulted you. They would have gotten away with more had a shadowy figure not approached them and dragged them off you. You ran as soon as you could, shaken, but not before looking back and seeing electric blue flames engulfing your attackers. Their screams from being burned alive haunted you for months and you never returned. It had taken years but the memory was stored with the other painful ones in the dark recesses of your mind while you moved on.

“It was y—”

Dabi cut you off by crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss that stole the air from your lungs and made your head spin. You kissed him back until the momentary haze ended and you cut him off by harshly biting down on his lip. Dabi hissed in pain before gripping your right shoulder and burning the skin while a raw scream tore through your body. The pain from the burns his quirk inflicted was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It shook you to your core once again and tore down your pain tolerance until you were just a shell of a person—crying, screaming, and trembling.

“You know what to do for the pain to stop,” He whispered into your ear and you flinched. Dabi was right. No matter how hard you’d tried burying your past, the situation you found yourself in mirrored the one in the past. Pain was a result of disobedience. The only way to stop the pain was to…

“Listen to me, Y/N. I have your best interests at heart.”

“Y-yes, Mayor,” You whimpered. “M’sorry…I-I’ll be good.”

“That’s my girl.”

You weren’t sure if it was Dabi or the Mayor that spoke but they had become one in your mind. Bound and blindfolded, your past and present fused together. Whether you were a pro-hero or an eight-year-old girl, the result was the same and you were a slave to the pain inflicted on you. A thought you believed you’d disproven over the years manifested once again.

I suffer because I’m weak

Your surrender was always met with sweet relief. With your mind still in shambles, you could only feel. Warm water and a soft towel traveled across your body. Cold ointment was applied to your wounds before rough but warm hands wrapped bandages around them. Your head was lifted up and cool water ran down your throat that you eagerly drank until there was none. You leaned into your master’s warm hand when he ran them across your face gently. When your exhaustion won out, the last thing you felt was a warm blanket that was drawn up against your chin.

Yes, this is much easier

[btsmosphere]

Crossfire | KTH

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Moodboard Masterlist

~summary: The night your life blew up sent you on a collision course with the campus bad boy, Kim Taehyung. Though you were well aware of his reputation, it was his doorstep you ran to when you were bleeding with nowhere to go.

~word count: 3.5k

~gang!au, mafia!au, college!au, angst, fluff, action, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers

Warnings: swearing, violence, kidnapping/being restrained (warnings apply to each part individually, please read them)

~a/n: so things heat up a bit in this chapter... I hope you guys enjoy the faster pace, it felt right to me but there are more scene cuts etc so I hope it works :) and huge thank you again to everyone reblogging my work! I see you and it really helps me out xx

Taehyung wondered if you noticed.

He knew you were often asleep long after he left, but he wondered if you remembered the times he had woken up with an arm over you, or when you had both moved closer in the night, or the way he would let his sleepy eyes wander your face before he decided to face the world.

Or maybe it was all lost in the haze of sleep for you, belonging only under the covers and in the dark.

He wondered if you ever heard his singing again. Whenever he sang in the mornings, though he had always enjoyed doing it for himself, he thought of you. He hoped you were listening.

After the excitement of hitting the jackpot with Soonjae, you spent your days with Tae’s books again. You had served your purpose, assured by him that they didn’t need more than one inner member for the time being. You doubted you would have found anything on the last member of the list, ‘Jintao’, anyway.

Days and books passed. So did nights with Tae.

It became clear to you that his way of expressing himself was quite physical. Though you enjoyed his touch, and initiated it yourself, you knew that to him, it was just the way he was with friends. Nothing more.

But it didn’t matter to you, as you enjoyed yourself in his company anyway.

Another meeting was called. This time it was much more fruitful, and a date was set. Since the last one, members they had already gathered from Shinhyuk’s gang had been able to pass on information to root out more members, and so on.

As Jin confirmed that Soonjae had successfully been bought out with a healthy mix of blackmail and promises of freedom, you glowed. The boys weren’t shy to thank you as well, even though they had doubted you at first.

Jungkook had found out about a deal Shinhyuk himself would be present at, though Jungkook was not required. And they were using the shop Shinhyuk had gained after his earlier attack, so he would be in the middle of their territory and at their mercy.

This was their chance to turn the tables on their enemy.

The idea was to capture Shinhyuk at the deal, and with him gone, the rest of the gang would be ready to fall apart. Their allies could move in, easily taking the area Shinhyuk had dominated for so long.

During the subsequent movie night, you and Tae shared a private toast with plastic cups of coke. To your hard work, though you insisted he share some of the credit.

As you chucked away the litter in the kitchen that night, out of breath after just a minute, you rediscovered your pack of red pills. You certainly hadn’t been taking them consistently.

That night, the rare occasion came when you could not get to sleep. Lying in the dark, you gazed over at Tae, just a lump under the duvet as he slept. You had shared in the excitement and hopefulness with the others earlier, but now you couldn’t help thinking-

What would happen when it was all over?

If they succeeded, and you could go back home, what would happen to you?

Last time you had interacted with Tae, and it certainly couldn’t be classed as more than that, you had gone straight back to normal afterwards. He had been charming, and of course he was attractive, but it had been easy for you to stay away, knowing his friends and their reputation.

Or at least you thought you had known.

Now you had met them all, shared takeaways and movie nights, and you and Tae had shared far more. You couldn’t forget about it. You wouldn’t want to.

“Are you excited?”

Pressing your lips into a smile, you gave Taehyung a nod. Not the most enthusiastic of responses.

Today was the day.

That evening, if everything went according to plan, Shinhyuk would lose everything, and you would be free. You could see your dad again. Go back to your place.

It wasn’t that you weren’t excited, but the excitement was swamped by everything else you were feeling.

“Hey, it’s gonna be ok,” Taehyung took your silence as denial and shuffled closer to you where you were reading a book against the headboard, eventually laying his head on your shoulder. And though it thrilled you, you stiffened. Trying your hardest not to react, you stared down at your book without absorbing any words.

Tae had opted to stay home from college today, even though the raid was to be in the evening.

Together you had made a ‘fancy’ lunch of pancakes, watched a short film and now you were anticipating the hour when he would have to go. Today had felt too full of goodbyes. You knew, however, that there was still one more to come, when he would leave to fight once and for all.

“You’ll get to go back home!” he attempted again to lighten the mood, but his words only made your heart heavier.

Sighing, you put your book aside, tilting your head to lean on top of his.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I see my dad.”

“Trust me, you’ll be happy when you see him again.”

“You’re right,” you sighed again, “I just… he got us into this whole mess – not that I don’t understand why.”

Taehyung considered you for a second.

“Not everything was his fault. He just did it because he loves you. He wants the best for you.”

“Why are you right about everything?” you laughed, making your shoulders shake and dislodging Tae’s head from its spot.

Sitting up fully again, he shoved your shoulder gently in retaliation. There he stayed, face slightly obscured as he sat forward while you rested back.

After a moment of silence, his impatient hands flipped his phone over.

“The others are setting off,” he informed you. You had learned that the eldest four were going to lie in wait, Taehyung and Jimin going in later as backup. Jungkook was at one of Shinhyuk’s other bases, known simply as ‘angel’, out of suspicion’s reach.

Taehyung didn’t have long.

“Do you think…” he started, voice low and quiet, “do you ever think that even though everything that happened, with your dad, though it was messed up… maybe something good came out of it?”

You stared at the back of his head.

“I wouldn’t have met all of you guys otherwise,” you admitted, “it’s been fun with you.”

Nodding, Taehyung finally turned, positioning himself in front of you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw him look down, taking a deep breath.

“You know, when we had that project together, it was never more than a crush,” his eyes came to meet yours and your heart thudded in your chest. He was so close to you, watching you intently, “but, Y/N, I really like you. And it’s not good, what happened, but I’m glad you came to my door that night. And I know I’m going to miss you after all this so I had to say something, maybe I’m crazy but-“

“You’re not crazy,” you finally found your voice after staring in awe at the boy, at the words coming out of his mouth, “I-I feel the same. I want this to be all over with Shinhyuk, but I don’t want to stop seeing you. I don’t want to go.”

You were sure the look in his eyes was mirrored in your own.

Shakily, he exhaled.

The two of you were so close now, the air around you static, holding its breath as you leaned forwards, closing the distance.

Until your lips met, you hadn’t known how much you wanted it. Taehyung’s hand came up to cup your jaw softly, the other travelling to your waist as you savoured the kiss, blissfully sweet but filled with longing.

Chasing more bliss, you tilted your head, transforming the kiss from something gentle to something more, and all too soon it was over, leaving you both panting, foreheads resting together, breathless smiles on your faces. Returning the gaze from Tae’s dark eyes, you looked back with just as much awe.

His eyes dropped once more to your lips. Your own parted in anticipation as you watched him dart his tongue out subconsciously.

Then his phone buzzed.

You both hesitated, but pulled back. Today of all days, you were aware the messages would be important. As he reached across the bed for the phone, his hand enveloped yours, happy now he could finally hold it when he wanted.

The screen lit up, showing only two words from Jungkook.

Code Black

One of Hoseok’s hands rested on the wheel. The car was engulfed in shadow, the four boys silent as they watched their target across the street.

Before, it had looked unassuming, just another local business in the row of shops crammed together. Now, the sign had been ripped down, leaving a gap in the otherwise continuous row of neon and paint that made up the front of other businesses. Both front windows were shattered, painting spiderwebs over the black canvas of the dark interior.

Tonight the road wasn’t busy. It was easy to spot as the car pulled up outside, two men in suits leaving it and entering the shop.

“They’re early,” Jin muttered, but they prepared anyway.

The deal would be over quickly, Shinhyuk just coming to pick up and inspect his new haul of weapons.

Sticking to the shadows, Yoongi led the way, easily blending in with the streets in his slouchy black clothes. Hoseok tapped his foot as he watched his friends leave one by one.

The men inside jumped when Yoongi threw the door open, holding his glock confidently in front of him. Namjoon and Jin flanked him, pulling out their guns as well, leaving the two men outnumbered, one behind the counter of the shop where the package was due to be, the other’s hand flying instantly to the holster on his belt.

For a moment, the only sound was a car starting up outside.

Then the second man turned around, gun raised, and fired. Yoongi ducked, running forward at a crouch as the glass door behind him shattered, two more shots going off as the other suited man fired and Namjoon retaliated.

Another shot flew past his shoulder as Yoongi dived over the counter, tackling his opponent, quickly handing him a fist to the face, hand fisting his collar.

From the other side of the shop came the grunting of the others as Namjoon and Jin took the first man down. In the struggle, he started yelling.

“Backup! Backup!”

Jin ripped an earpiece from the man’s ear, tossing it across the room.

Once they had both of them under control, Jin pressing the face of the man that had shouted into a table, arm in a lock behind his back, Yoongi pinning the other down with his gun lying uselessly in the middle of the shop floor, Namjoon strode to the counter.

“Where is Shinhyuk?” he demanded, looking between both men, neither of which were the intended target.

Not a word came in reply.

Maintaining his composure while the other two looked between each other in panic, Namjoon reached across the counter to lift up the large duffel bag that lay there. He frowned.

Placing it on the top, it made no sound, and pulling open the zip revealed the bag to be full of rolled up newspapers.

“What is this?” Namjoon’s fury bled through his words as he rummaged in the bag, coming up empty handed. A few balls of newspaper rolled onto the floor, but no one else dared move.

Looking at the man below him, Yoongi found he looked as dumbfounded as the rest of them.

“Where are the weapons?” he shook the guy, glaring at him until a reply left his lips.

“I-I don’t know, Shin said we had to come and pick them up-”

The buzzing of a phone sounded, and Namjoon pulled his out.

Code Black

He whirled around, but no one was to be seen outside. Only their own car.

Jin stepped back, releasing his captive.

“What is it?” he asked Namjoon.

“Jungkook. It’s a trap,” the blond ran a hand through his hair as he looked around the space in panic. They were in a dead end.

Yoongi was standing too now, and followed his leader in a heartbeat when he moved to the door.

“Where the fuck’s our car?” one of the men spoke behind them.

“’E’s left us,” the other responded in shock, “no one’s coming.”

Turning, Yoongi found them both standing, lost, staring at the empty road outside and the fake bag of ammo.

“You should get out of here,” he warned, stepping into the night.

“Bring him in.”

Shinhyuk had turned off his screen the moment he saw bangtan approaching the shop. He had sent disposable men; whatever happened to them now didn’t concern him. Catching the rat did.

Now, he strolled into the room where Jungkook was held.

“Well played, Jeon,” he snarled, “Very subtle.”

The boy glared back at him with ice in his eyes.

“I know you stole the file,” he continued, then to the guards flanking him, “search him.”

Struggling against his bonds didn’t help, but Shinhyuk’s smirking face had riled Jungkook up enough that he didn’t care about the metal digging into his skin. He didn’t know where his friends were. He had only had time to send out that one message as the guards had come barging in to get him.

At least he could take pride in the amount it had taken to get him under control. There were several nursing wounds upstairs as they spoke.

As rough hands patted at him, pulling his clothes and making their way into his pockets, Shinhyuk kept talking.

“I had my suspicions, Jeon. You proved them today. You were the only one I told about the deal, the perfect opportunity for bangtan to try and make a move, but it was just a fairy tale,” his lips curled up into a wolfish smile, “there were never any weapons. There was never any deal.”

He looked on, chuckling, as the search concluded, but the result pulled the smile right of his face.

“No file?” Jungkook took his turn to smirk.

“I know you’re the rat, boy,” Shinhyuk advanced, pushing his face right into Jungkook’s space, “but if you aren’t, how will your pretty friends know where to find you?”

Jungkook’s blood ran cold.

He was the bait.

Shinhyuk’s laughter rang out through the room, haunting him even after the man had slammed the door behind him, leaving Jungkook struggling against his bonds alone in the cell.

“Code black – Jungkook’s been found out,” Namjoon began addressing the tense boys gathered in his front room.

“They’re holding him at angel,” Taehyung added. He clutched his phone with white knuckles, having just been using it to speak to the leader of that specific base, the first rival that had defected to their side.

“Right, we can easily get in there and get him back,” Jin spoke remarkably calmly.

“Not so easy, actually,” Tae’s voice was dark, “Shinhyuk’s there too now. He’s waiting for us to come in.”

Every one of them was sitting forward in their seats, wracking their brains for a next move after they had been played and taken off-guard. Jimin lowered his head, running both hands through his hair.

“What if we turn up in one of Shinhyuk’s cars?” Hoseok suggested, “we can call on some of the drivers.”

“You’re right,” Namjoon nodded, “we still have the element of surprise on our side. He doesn’t know we’ve infiltrated him.”

“But let’s just get in, get Jungkook, and go,” Jimin said.

“Right,” Namjoon agreed, “today doesn’t have to be our victory anymore. Let’s just get Jungkook back and safely.”

Together, they stood, filing out of the room in silence.

You couldn’t stop reliving your kiss with Taehyung all evening. He had been gone a while, leaving in seconds after he checked his phone, hurriedly telling you something had come up.

Worried though you were, you knew all you could do was wait. It wasn’t easy trying to stay patient after you and Taehyung had finally confessed to each other, and you wanted nothing more than to continue where you left off.

Equally, your mind wouldn’t stop running through all the worst case scenarios. How would you know if something bad happened to him?

Trying your best to preoccupy yourself, you read for a bit longer, pushing away the nerves over what could be happening out there right now. Every time your mind drifted from the page in front of you, you told yourself there was nothing you could do. The plan was a good one, and now all the boys had to do was pull it off.

Somehow that didn’t help.

As darkness fell, you quietly made your way downstairs, closing the curtains while staying out of sight. You didn’t even turn the living room light on.

Already you were a little out of breath, so you stopped and rested on the arm of the sofa.

That was when someone knocked on the door.

Turning towards the sound, you started walking, but stopped yourself only feet away from the front door. Tae’s friends sometimes knocked, but they all had their own key too.

A second knock sounded, louder this time.

Frozen on the spot, you debated with yourself. Who on earth could it be? Maybe something had happened to Tae, and they were here to tell you…

The banging resumed, this time with a shout.

“Y/N?”

You gasped. That wasn’t one of the boys, but it sounded a lot like-

“Jake?” you muttered under your breath, approaching the door to look through the peephole.

Sure enough, there was your college friend on the step. He was looking down at something you couldn’t see, but it was him alright.

Cautiously, you lifted your hand to the catch and opened the door a crack.

“Jake?”

His hands flew behind his back, making you frown at him.

“Y/N…” he pushed at the door, which you let fall open just a little bit more, “I can’t believe I’ve found you, it’s all gonna be okay, yeah? We’ve been looking for you for so long…”

“Oh, Jake, I’m sorry…” you shuffled in the doorway. He was standing close to you, eager to be let in, but you stood your ground, “I couldn’t get in touch, but I promise I’m fine I just-“

“Y/N, you aren’t thinking straight,” he pushed forward again.

This time you weren’t strong enough to stop the door opening. You stepped hurriedly away from him as he crossed the threshold. You wanted to sit down again, but you didn’t feel comfortable with Jake in the house.

“We were so worried at college Y/N, and so is your dad” he begged, holding his hands out, “let’s just get you home, okay?”

Frowning back at him, you didn’t move, so after a second he walked closer instead, driving you further down the hallway.

“Jake, please leave,” you told him.

What he was saying didn’t make sense. Your dad was under Shinhyuk now, your college friends couldn’t have possibly contacted him-

“Let’s go home, Y/N,” he said.

But you knew your ‘home’ wasn’t safe anymore. Your eyes darted to the open door behind him, wondering if you could run. Then you saw something.

Two long metal pins were jammed into the lock at the front of the house. He had been trying to break in.

All you knew when you started running was that you weren’t going with Jake. Rushing through the kitchen door and slamming it hard in his face, you dashed out of the side door, straight onto a small alley between two houses. Not letting your feet stop, you ran as fast as you could, away from the main street and further into unfamiliar paths.

Behind you, the door slammed as Jake gave chase, but instead of calling out to you, he shouted, “this way!”

Then more footsteps joined him.

Blood whooshed through your ears, chest constricting after only a couple of corners, but your pursuers gave no sign of letting up. The stab wound seared in your side, and for a moment your vision went white. It was only a split second, but you knew you were in trouble.

Not now, not now…

You willed your legs to keep going. You had to get away.

Then the bang of a gunshot deafened your ears and you ducked blindly, stumbling forwards before picking up the pace again.

One more shot hit the wall by your ear, making you flinch away.

Sparks were filling your vision, and you could barely breathe, but you pushed yourself, knowing danger lay behind. Your eyes screwed shut against the pain as you forced yourself to run, when a bang sounded, followed by a new, burning pain slicing through your shoulder.

You were unconscious before you hit the asphalt.

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[sonnet009]

Wilder: Jamal’s Story (Route Summary)

PROLOGUE:

MC decides to flee Ziya alone. A rotund wine merchant named Barlow offers her a timely rescue, smuggling her out in one of the wagons in his caravan. On their journey across the Shining Sands MC learns that Barlow is a wealthy and ambitious man who can afford not only a team of djinn guards but even a pleasure slave. It is this pleasure slave who warns MC that Barlow intends to ransom her back to Ziya and urges her to leave the caravan. Though afraid, MC chooses to stay rather than risk facing the desert alone. Jamal is not pleased at the prospect of continuing to share his wagon.

CHAPTER I:

The caravan stops so Barlow can take his dinner out under the stars. MC joins him and Jamal while the djinn guards keep watch. Barlow is very blatant about his sexual relationship with Jamal and Jamal for his part fawns over Barlow in return. MC has never seen anything like it. Left alone for a few moments, Jamal teases MC that she can't keep her eyes off him.

During the next day's travel the caravan is attacked by a raiding group of djinn come down from the Western Hills. The djinn guards rally around Barlow to protect him but change their minds when the leader of the wild djinn offers them a free life with the tribe. Barlow and MC are pushed onto their knees, faces in the sand, and Barlow is beheaded. MC hears Jamal's horrified gasp.

MC does not share Barlow's fate. She is restrained and brought back to the Hills with the tribe and their new recruits. She is not sure why, but feels in her heart that this is no salvation.

CHAPTER II:

While the new djinn are welcomed into the tribe, Jamal sneaks over to where MC has been tied. He probes her about her rich, important family and muses that she must have connections in Umar. Though he knew she was fleeing Ziya he doesn't seem to have the full story – he certainly doesn't know that MC is an accused murderer and therefore utterly without connections or power.

After a ritual in which each new djinn must eat a piece of a raw deer heart, the disgusted Jamal has had enough. In the dead of night he frees MC in return for her promise to take him to Umar. They catch their breath by the river but are soon discovered by one of the ex-guards whose disdain for Jamal the pleasure slave is obvious. He calls out for the rest of the tribe and MC and Jamal run.

The tribe pursues them far, all the way to the base of the mountainous Knives. With little other choice, MC and Jamal head up – away from the Hills but only into more danger.

CHAPTER III:

MC offers condolences for Barlow's death. Jamal is dismissive and MC realises that though he appeared to adore the man it was all just an act. He doesn't miss Barlow, just the security that being his personal slave offered. Jamal insists that MC is his master now, though MC insists that she is not. Jamal reveals his intention for MC to sell him to a famous pleasure house in Umar, and for that she has to be his master.

Jamal whines and gripes the whole way up the mountain path. In contrast, MC finds a fortitude within herself she never knew she had. In the night he attempts to seduce her though she rebuffs him, saying, “I told you, you don't need to do that.” The next day they stumble into the path of a mountain lion. Jamal hides behind MC while she scares it away.

They come across a hot spring and MC spends most of her time trying to avoid looking at Jamal's naked and shameless displays designed to get her attention. But when he asks her to wash his hair it is with genuine, vulnerable wanting so she does so. It is the most intimate moment MC has ever shared with anyone.

CHAPTER IV:

In the sprawling farmland on the other side of the mountains, MC and Jamal are caught in a sudden downpour. Sheltering in an old barn, they share a sweet, quiet moment that turns into an argument when she once again refuses to claim him as her slave. MC is secretly very drawn to Jamal, but fears that his affection is all a lie and that she will be taking advantage of their positions if she lets herself believe him. He accuses her of looking down on him and gives her the cold shoulder. This means that MC has missed another chance to confess that she is not the connected noblewoman he believes her to be.

As they continue on their journey in strained silence, a group of bandits appear and block their path. MC is afraid but not as afraid as Jamal. However, when one of the men grabs MC and makes lewd comments, Jamal exclaims, “Hey!” surprising no one more than himself. As the scene turns to violence, MC and Jamal learn that even a light slap from a djinn whose claws have been growing for weeks can be devastating to a human body. MC thanks Jamal for his protection while he desperately tries to get the blood out from under his nails.

They finally make it to Dijarah, a port town where MC intends to board a ship sailing for Umar. The one problem? She has no money.

CHAPTER V:

To earn money in Dijarah, an innkeeper agrees to hire MC and Jamal to work in the kitchen. Jamal is aghast at the prospect, especially when he meets the old battleaxe of a cook on whom his charms utterly fail. Jamal is terrible at every practical task put before him and, after only a few days, is utterly miserable.

MC is gentle and encouraging with Jamal, and he eventually is able to put aside his pride (a little) and improve. He finds it amusing to think of a world in which he worked here instead of as a pleasure slave. But when MC takes this question seriously he balks and insists that he would never want an unglamorous life like this. “I know what I am,” he says quietly.

As the two grow closer, Jamal tells MC the story of his life. Bred illegally and born sick, Jamal was passed under the table from master to master, role to role, failing at all of them. Finally dumped in a pleasure house as an insult, Jamal actually flourished there – able to put his natural charm and artistic talents to use. That is why he cannot even consider another life. MC asks if he would choose the same life if he were a free man. Jamal goes quiet and does not answer.

CHAPTER VI:

One day MC walks into the kitchen to see Jamal scrubbing pots with all his might then absent mindedly tidying up some things – not as part of his assigned task but just because it needs doing. MC announces herself and they compare their palm callouses and growing arm muscle. One night Jamal is asked to perform for the inn's patrons by playing the lute – he is giddy with excitement to be the centre of attention once more, though the audience is not his usual clientele. He plays and sings beautifully and MC sets off a standing ovation that nearly makes him cry.

An evening shift turns tense when a group of drunkards start causing trouble. Jamal shocks everyone by taking charge of the situation and intimidating them into leaving. Though, as soon as they are gone, his legs turn to liquid and he slides to the floor declaring how terrifying the whole thing was. The innkeeper draws him a hot bath in thanks. Jamal asks MC to wash his hair again. Though she won't join him in the tub – despite his persistence – Jamal does wash and style her hair for her in return.

Finally MC and Jamal have enough money to book passage on a ship. As they are boarding MC catches sight of Hamza in the crowded street. She drags Jamal away to avoid getting caught, though now she is less afraid of being arrested than she is being exposed to Jamal who still doesn't know that she is a fugitive. She resolves that she must tell him soon, even if it ruins the... friendship... that seems to finally be blossoming between them.

CHAPTER VII:

Hamza has also boarded so MC spends most of her time hiding in her cabin – and Jamal has no objections to passing the days relaxing on a soft bed. She tries many times to broach his misconceptions about her but is consistently thwarted by interruptions and her own cowardice. A rich passenger tries to buy some time with Jamal from MC but she staunchly refuses. Jamal is delighted by this, then confused as to why he is so delighted.

One night they lie side by side on the bed and MC asks Jamal why he is so set on being sold to this particular brothel. He explains that, not only is it a famous venue, but if they purchase him then by Umar’s laws he will no longer be a slave but an indentured servant. MC says that isn’t good enough – she wants to free him. Jamal is dismissive of such an impossible idea but MC insists that Lord Yasir, the most powerful man in Umar, could surely help them. Jamal asks why MC would be seeking Yasir’s help for herself and she prepares to finally tell him the truth when– the ship’s bell rings. They have arrived.

Hamza catches sight of MC at just the wrong moment. She drags Jamal off the ship, pushing past everyone else, and manages to lose Hamza in the moonlit streets of Umar. They come to Minerva’s Pleasure House. Inside is a whole new world to MC but Jamal is in his element. Then he goes quiet. “I don’t want you to leave me here. I want to stay with you. I want to be–”. The madam interrupts, realises exactly who MC is, and throws her and Jamal out of the place, calling MC a murderer and threatening to tell the authorities if either of them ever return.

CHAPTER VIII:

MC hurries to Yasir’s estate, a confused and suspicious Jamal with her, and fortunately finds the merchant-turned-lord to be very welcoming and willing to provide sanctuary. Jamal confronts MC and she finally admits everything. Jamal is devastated. He accuses her of using him, of dragging him through danger and hardship just for the amusement of it, of being just as rotten as Barlow and the others. “You think so little of me. You think nothing of me.” MC cannot explain her actions without admitting – to Jamal and to herself – that she has been falling in love with him. Jamal is stunned. Then he turns and leaves the manor.

He returns in the morning and apologises for leaving, kissing MC on the cheek and saying that he understands she was only doing what she had to do – she’s a survivor. He turns down MC’s attempts to make him a free man and instead asks Yasir to use his influence to place him in the pleasure house. “No more pretending,” he says in response to MC’s protestations. “I know what I am.” Yasir arranges for the madam to accept him as an indentured servant.

MC and Jamal say a fraught goodbye in the gaudy room that is to be Jamal’s from now on. Jamal kisses MC and, at his soft declaration that he has fallen in love with her too, she gives in to her passion and they come together in a tangle of flesh and emotion. After, as they lie in bed, the door is kicked down and in bursts Hamza to arrest MC. Jamal is remarkably unsurprised. “I should’ve known it was all a lie from the beginning. All those things you said about my potential. Trying to make me doubt who I am; what I am. But you know something, mistress?” There is nothing but cold resolve in his eyes. “I’m a survivor too.”

CHAPTER IX:

MC is transported back to Ziya to face her execution. She spends the journey thinking on Jamal. That night he left the manor he must have gone to Hamza to arrange the ambush. Anger and betrayal come in cycles but always give way to regret and the knowledge that she brought this on herself. MC’s execution is a public event on the steps of the shah’s palace, but the proceedings are suddenly interrupted by Jamal and Yasir’s right-hand-djinn Royo. Since MC was under Umar’s protection, Ziya’s actions in abducting her have been taken as a hostile act. Hamza takes justice into his own hands and attacks MC with his sword. Jamal tries to protect her but she pushes him away, taking the blade in her chest.

MC wakes in her old bedroom in her Aunt and Uncle’s villa. The blade missed her heart and, though badly wounded, she will live. Jamal is by her bedside. He asserts that he hasn’t forgiven her, and he’ll never forgive himself, but he wants her to know that Hamza was the one who caught and pressured him into the betrayal that night, and Jamal convinced himself that she deserved it. But he regretted it immediately and went running to Yasir for help. He confesses that he wasn’t lying when he said he’d fallen in love with her. He thinks that’s their shared fatal flaw – they’re dreamers.

When MC next wakes quite a lot of time has passed. This time it is Royo who comes to see her, informing her that the political pressure from Umar – and Yasir specifically – has worked. To avoid trouble between the two cities, Ziya has agreed not to execute MC but to exile her. Royo must return to Umar now but says that MC is welcome there once she is well enough to travel. MC asks after Jamal but Royo shakes her head. He is waiting by the carriage to leave and will not return to the villa. MC asks Royo to take something with her when she goes – a letter addressed to the madam of Minerva’s.

BITTER END:

Two years have passed since the almost-execution and MC has been travelling ever since, working tirelessly in whatever jobs she can in order to save money and send it periodically to Minerva’s to bit by bit pay off Jamal’s “debt” to the pleasure house. Finally with enough to complete the contract she returns to Umar.

When Jamal sees her in Minerva’s he covers his shock by asking if she is there to taste him once again. They go to his room and MC interrupts his cold, emotionless seduction with the last of the money he needs to truly be free. He insists at first to not want it then finally cracks open, tears spilling down his cheeks. “But where would I go?” MC says he can go with her if he likes. He doesn’t answer, conflicted, still so afraid to trust. MC backs off and says he can go wherever he wants to go; anywhere in the world. She leaves the pleasure house but lingers outside, hoping that when Jamal comes out a free man he will choose to go with her after all.

SWEET END:

Two years have passed since the almost-execution and MC has been travelling ever since, working tirelessly in whatever jobs she can in order to save money and send it periodically to Minerva’s to bit by bit pay off Jamal’s “debt” to the pleasure house. However when she journeys to Umar with the final payment she is informed by the madam that Jamal has already been freed from his contract and left months ago. MC turns to Royo for help, who informs her that Jamal had also been working hard to pay for his freedom – taking on extra chores and responsibilities at Minerva's – and that last she knew he was heading for Dijarah.

MC sets sail immediately. When she disembarks at Dijarah’s docks she is stunned to find Jamal waiting, Royo having sent word ahead. There is a tense moment of uncertainty then Jamal launches himself at her, catching her in a tight embrace. He thanks her for contributing so much to buying his freedom and says he’s never worked so hard for anything before – for the chance to live a free life. To stand before MC as an equal. To say he loves her and for it to be the simple truth. Hand-in-hand, Jamal escorts MC to his new place of employment – the inn in which they spent so much time before. He winks. “I hear they're hiring. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

[starlightrows]

Disrupted

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Tags: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Non-graphic violence, 

Summary: Your clan of three has a routine that gets you through the day to day. But the events of chapter 14 throw a wrench into that and disrupt everything

AN: Originally posted on AO3 in December 2020 

It seems like everyday is an adventure traveling with your riddur and foundling son. If it’s not bringing in a bounty, it’s doing odd jobs in exchange for information you only hope will lead to the next helpful piece of information. And still there are days that must be “wasted” to resupply, make repairs, do laundry, and catch up on sleep if you’re lucky. But despite this seemingly turbulent lifestyle, your clan of three had a routine of sorts.

Mostly revolving around the baby. When he wakes up, it’s officially morning time. That means getting him up and out of the pram, and immediately getting food in his belly. Then, hopefully you would be arriving to whatever destination is set for the day. Hunting a bounty, meeting with a contact, delivering bounties and cargo, and market days. Market days were the little guys favorite. Usually because he got treats from the market, and dad carried him in the satchel. They only thing he liked better, was when mom carried him in her arms.

If it’s a big travel day through hyperspace. Then the entire day is devoted to entertaining him on board while also trying to get work done. Din cleans weapons, makes small internal repairs, charts future courses. You try to balance the budget to make sure you will have enough credits to afford fuel and food, count out rations to make sure they will last, and prepare them as best you can with the limited galley space available. All while trying to teach Grogu basic things like his colors and shapes. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if you should be trying to teach him more advanced things like arithmetic, or planetary geography. He was supposed to be older than you after all.

Grogu gets grumpy and fussy at about midday, no matter what planet or how deep in hyperspace you may be. That means it’s time for him to drink something like bantha milk, bone broth, or just water if you’re running low on supplies; and take a nap. Sometimes you or Din will nap with him, especially if it’s a resupply and repair day.

When he wakes up again, he’s usually less needy. He is usually pretty happy to observe whatever it is his parents are doing. If Din is flying the ship, he liked to sit with him in the cockpit and play with the durasteel ball handle on the rear deflector shield control. Or he will sit on one of the crates tethered to the walls of the ship while you meticulously inventory the supplies and their replacement costs. He’s most happy on the afternoons when both you and Din sit in the cockpit together. Din flying the ship, you copiloting at his side. Grogu likes to sit on your lap and listen to the two of you talk. Droning on and on about nothing. He doesn’t always know what you’re talking about, but he likes both his parents to be together, especially if they’re giving him attention together.

Which is why the end of the day meal is his favorite. Even if you and Din haven’t interacted much all day, you would come together for dinner. Sitting as a family in the hull of the ship to eat rations together. After dinner, Din cleared the eating utensils while you would give Grogu a bath and get him ready for bed.

Cradling him against your shoulder, pacing up and down the length of the hull, bouncing him slightly with each step, and humming sweet lullabies. Coming to a stop in front of his pram, just as he was falling asleep. Din would join you, drawing you into his arms, and swaying gently without a word and you finish your last lullaby. Placing Grogu into the pram, you give him a kiss on the head and close the lid.

At that point, you and Din have time to either continue working on your respective tasks, work on two person jobs on the ship, or as you both prefer just spend some quality time together.

But not anymore. Not since Tython.

Less than an hour. Less than a single hour had passed between the three of you stepping off of the Razor Crest, and watching as the four massive, seemingly indestructible, black droids ascended into the sky with your child in tow. In less than 60 minutes the Crest was obliterated with everything you owned on board, you were beaten within an inch of your life by the droids, and your son was plucked from your arms. Left to bleed out on that wretched mountain top.

And less than an hour after that, you sat aboard the ship of a man you had just been threatened by. You felt disoriented and dazed, and not just from the probable concussion. Din knelt in front of you below deck, gripping your forearms as you stared blankly into the visor of his helmet.

“What are we gonna do?” You asked numbly. “A-a-all of our weapons. Our rations. Our home. Our son..... what are we gonna do?”

He squeezes you again, it’s grounding but you are having a difficult time getting your mind to focus on any one thing.

“We’re going back to Nevarro,” he says frankly. But you’re confused.

“Nevarro? You think they’re taking him to Nevarro?”

This worried Din more, it is evident you are more injured that you appear. And he makes a mental note to send a communication to Cara ahead of time to make sure medical staff is waiting when they get there.

“No cyar’ika, we have to get some help before we can go after Grogu. We’re gonna go see Cara,”

This seems to pacify you for the time being. Your head his pounding, and all you want to do is cry and sleep. And hope when you wake up this will have been a horrible dream.

It isn’t though. You wake up in a clean bed with a bandage around your head. Din lays next to you on his stomach. Despite the fact he his dead asleep, he looks exhausted. His eyes are puffy and a little darkened. He’s been crying. And all at once you are overwhelmed by feelings of guilt, sadness, loss and despair. Your home really was gone, and so was your son. But unlike the Crest, you could get Grogu back.

When Din eventually wakes up, he describes how disoriented you were and the utter terror he felt at not being able to keep you awake during the flight. Luckily a heavily dosed bacta shot, and a good long sleep had you on the mend. He tells you of his plan to spring Migs Mayfeld from prison with Cara’s help, and get him to help find out where to find Moff Gideon’s cruiser. You don’t like the idea of bringing in Mayfeld. He had been extremely aggressive and irritable the last time you’d dealt with him... but you didn’t have a better idea.

It was much easier than expected getting Mayfeld to agree to help. Though he didn’t have much room to argue. You felt almost good about the situation as your rag tag group consisting of Mayfeld, Cara, Fennec, Boba Fett, Din and yourself; flew towards Morak. You felt like you were actually working to accomplish something. Getting closer to getting your baby back.

But like Fett said. It was a long journey to get there. It was like being home on the Crest. But you were uncomfortable, unused to being in close proximity to so many people for this long. And you had nothing to do. You felt... trapped in your own mind. Without thinking about it you would stand up, as if moved by some unseen force and walk away from the others and return with nothing new and not a word. Just a sad empty look on your face.

After the fourth time. Mayfeld blurted out “What the hell are you doing? You got a screw loose or something” he was trying to be funny. Trying to cut the tension. You didn’t turn around, you just retreated below deck. This time Din followed. “What’s with them?” Mayfeld asked, directing his question at Cara.

“It’s midday,” she spat. There was a long silence before said quieter “it’s time to feed her son and put him down for a nap”

That shut Mayfeld up.

Below deck, you leaned your head and forearms against the wall of Slave I. Enjoying the cold that leeched into your skin, at least it was something.

“Cyare,” Din called out softly. You turned to face him, leaning back against the wall. Tears brimmed in your eyes. He approached you, extending his arms out to you. Inviting to to take comfort if you wanted it. You accepted, leaning on him as the tears slipped down your cheeks.

“I know” he whispers “we’ll get him back. Whatever it takes,”

Din Djarin Tag List: @spideysimpossiblegirl

[cherryrogers]

➸ call me baby {2/3}

SUMMER NIGHTS

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | biker au

warnings: swearing, violence, implied smut, mainly fluff.

word count: 7.8k

synopsis: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker. And when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either. That was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

series masterlist

a/n: ok so this has turned into a three part series!! the next part will likely be a bit shorter, but i wanted to wrap up the story properly and i felt that needed it’s own separate part. i’m gonna post a masterlist for this series tomorrow, and i might write some drabbles for this fic to add to it once it’s finished if anyone has any hc/drabble ideas they’d like to send in?? i need to stop rambling so much lmao,,, please enjoy!!

Sunsets; consisting of an array of warm tones, reds and oranges bleeding into each other, casting a dim, natural light over cities before the artificial yellow beaming of street lamps lit up the world instead. A comforting reminder that every bad day eventually ends, but a sad reminder that every perfect day ends too.

In your case, they’d been unsettling ends to a continuous string of perfect days. And following those, a bright sunrise poured light through your windows every morning, indicating that you were one day closer to the end of the summer.

Currently, the deep, warm sky was the background of a blissful ride through the city. Perched on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, your arms enveloping his waist, fingertips grazing lightly over his stomach through his shirt. No destination in particular; just an excuse to be close to one another.

Since the night at Wanda’s bar, the night where you simply let yourself begin to feel for Bucky, things had been different. Better.

Rides around the city were a frequent occurrence, usually happening when Bucky offered to take you home on his bike, but taking the long way back to enjoy the view and the feeling of you next to him for a short while longer.

It was therapeutic, tranquil. Well, until your road rage got the best of you.

“Dude, it’s a green light,” You shouted at the car in front you. “Green means go, didn’t you learn that in kindergarten?”

“Christ, you realise you’re yellin’ straight in my ear, right?”

“Sorry, Buck,” You patted his chest apologetically, before proceeding to yell once again. “Not my fault some people don’t know how traffic lights work!”

It was entertaining to Bucky, anyway. Even if it did earn you some middle fingers, which you gladly returned.

As the sky began to lose its vibrant hue, the two of you headed back in the direction of your place, definitely your least favourite part of the ride, but you savoured it nevertheless.

You were friends. Teasing each other incessantly because you just bounced off one another like that, but you often found yourself gravitating towards him. During meals at the clubhouse, you sat in the same spot as you did when you entered the place for the first time; right next to Bucky. While that likely meant for Steve and Peggy that they were in for a painful time, consisting of them slowly losing their patience with you both, they didn’t mind. Well, they did a little.

It’d been almost two hours since you started your game of Monoply. You weren’t sure if you were anywhere near the end of the game, but everyone was still pretty into it. Clint and Sam were paired up as a team, Steve and Peggy shared the little top-hat token, you and Bucky had the wheelbarrow, and Natasha had the car. She claimed she worked better when was on her own team, which was proved to be true by the fact she was winning.

It was Steve and Peggy’s turn to roll, and their top hat was moved to land on the ‘Boardwalk’ space.

“Oh, that’s our space!” You chirped. “Pay up, my dudes.”

“_____, you don’t have a house on that space.”

“Well, could you pass me one? I want this space.”

“You have to buy one.”

“Then I’ll buy one.”

Peggy sighed. “It’s not your turn, you can’t buy a house. Your token isn’t even on that space.”

You furrowed your brows, turning to Bucky. Maybe you should’ve read the rules before playing; you’d never actually played Monoply before. “Oh. That kinda sucks then.”

After a moment, Bucky reached over to the little bag of houses, picking one out and placing it on the Boardwalk space.

“Buck, that’s cheating.” Steve glared at his friend, who only shrugged innocently.

“She’s never played before, let her just have the damn house.”

“You’re only sayin’ that ‘cause she’s on your team, jerk.”

Bucky just shrugged again, turning to shoot you a wink as you smirked in satisfaction and placing your little house on the space, missing Steve and Peggy sharing a look of annoyance as they passed a pile of yellow bills over to you.

It was safe to say the two of you weren’t allowed to play as a team during board games anymore. Natasha always won the games anyway, so it’s not like you and him cheating made much of a difference.

You thought things were moving smoothly with Bucky. You knew that you liked him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew that — it was pretty fucking obvious at this point. But it would be a rather dumb move to escalate things even if you wanted to. The summer would be over in two months, one third of it was already gone, and you would be too by the beginning of September. Naively, you’d told yourself that you simply wouldn’t take things further. Easy enough, right?

Wrong; so very wrong. You’d proved to yourself that you seriously needed to stop acting impulsively on one fateful after a day spent at the clubhouse.

You’d been about to leave, but had decided to head off to the office where Bucky had been pretty much all evening while everyone else was out in the backyard, which was odd considering you would’ve assumed he’d be the last to not spend the night drinking beer and hanging out with friends over, well, anything else.

You knocked loudly on the door, hearing shuffling and the clicking of a computer keyboard before a quiet ‘come in’ followed. Furrowing your brows, you stepped into the room, eyes landing on the biker slumped in the chair at the desk, forcing a small smile. Did he really think your were that oblivious?

“You’ve been hiding in here all night,” You approaches the desk, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is there something you wanna share with the class?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered between the computer screen and your face, before he shook his head. “Just dealin’ with club stuff.”

“Hm, and what counts as club stuff?”

“It’s stuff you don’t need to worry about.”

You scoffed. “Huh, what happened to not doing stuff you shouldn’t be? Not getting into trouble?”

“Do you ever mind your own business?” Bucky questioned bluntly, though there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

Mirroring his expression, you leaned against the desk next to him. “Not when someone is clearly trying to hide something.

The biker bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating for a few moments. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. Sure, he’d only known you around a month now, but you were... his friend. A good friend. He just didn’t want you mixed up in anything dangerous. Steve wasn’t lying when he said that the club tried to stay out of trouble, because they definitely didn’t go out of their way to get into shitty situations. But if they needed to get their hands a little dirty to deal with clubs that thrived off trouble, then so be it.

Eventually, Bucky sighed, moving a hand back over his computer mouse and letting the screen light up again. Crinkling your brows, your eyes scanned the screen. He’d been looking at a map of Brooklyn, and the little red location pointer was pinned onto a warehouse downtown.

“Peter Parker, he’s just a kid. Parents died when he was barely five, lost his uncle a few years back. He lives at home with his aunt in Queens since he’s still in school, but we sorta took him in a while ago. The night after his uncle died, Tony found him on the sitting on the curb a few blocks away from here, completely distraught. He managed to talk him down though, and found out he was pretty good with engineering. We said if he wanted, he could help out with fixing bikes and cars at the clubhouse, and he comes by every so often since then.”

You didn’t know Tony that well; he was a little older than the rest of the club, and he lived outside of the clubhouse with his wife, Pepper. You hadn’t met Peter at all, but you trusted Bucky when he said that he was a good kid.

“Last week, he showed up to the here with a busted lip and broken nose. Said that Rumlow and his guys had jumped him, and that they wanted him to do a job for them — collect a weapon shipment from this warehouse.” Bucky nodded towards the screen.

At the mention of Brock Rumlow, you felt your jaw tighten. Thankfully, he’d kept his distance from Wanda’s bar since your last encounter with him, but you were still pissed off about the show he put on there, and there was nothing you regretted more than not jumping over the bar top and kicking him in the balls. Now he’d resorted to threatening a kid and making him do his dirty work?

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Peter’s meant to meet the guy delivering the weapons next week, so I’m gonna take Nat, Sam and Tony down to the warehouse and deal with any of Rumlow’s guys that are nearby.”

Upon seeing your face light up, Bucky chuckled, standing from his seat. “And no, you can’t come.”

“Bucky, I’m not a woman of many talents, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s handing people’s asses to them.” You lifted your chin confidently.

“Baby—”

You held a finger up to shush him. “Okay, I know I said that I liked when you call me that, but not now. Brock is the guy that grabbed me, Buck. And the guy that punched you in the face!”

“I know, and we’ll deal with him,” A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Besides, I thought you weren’t part of any club. Can’t do club stuff if you’re not a member.”

“Well, not that I want to... but how would one go about becoming part of your little gang?” You weren’t lying; you definitely did not want to be a damn biker, but you did want the chance to boot Brock Rumlow and his group of dipshits in the face.

“You could become an old lady.” The biker cocked a brow, and you chuckled heartily.

Not that you were up to date with the biker lingo, but you could take a good guess at what being an old lady meant. “Hm, if only there was someone that wanted me to be their old lady.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky glanced over your features, waiting for you to laugh and brush the comment off as a joke since the majority of your vocabulary was sarcasm, but you didn’t. The corners of your lips curled up slightly, not teasingly, but softly...

...Until you became painfully aware of the silence that’d fell upon the two of you, and let out a sigh to break it. It was already late when you were supposed to leave, anyway. Now, the dim moonlight was casting shadows outside of the office window, the only source of bright light being the yellow streams from lampposts dotted up and down the quiet street.

“Well, I should get going.” You reluctantly stepped back from him.

“You don’t have to go, you know. Peggy stays overnight when it’s late.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, cause Peggy has a boyfriend that she can share a bed with.”

“Hey, I’ve got a double bed.” Bucky teased, and you’d be lying if you said sleeping next to him in his bed didn’t make you feel a certain type of way.

Though, you definitely wouldn’t let him know that. “You’re stupid, Bucky.”

He shrugged, following you as you continued for the door of the office. “I mean, even if I had a single—”

“I would still not be getting in your bed,” You deadpanned, finishing his sentence for him and promoting the stupidly hot little smirk of his to appear again. “Okay, now I’m leaving. Goodbye, Bucky.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“No you will not,” You breathed out a laugh. “There are two bottles of beer on that desk and death isn’t on the cards for me tonight — can’t get rid of me that easily.”

A look of realisation washed over his face, a pink colour tinting his cheeks. Was Bucky Barnes blushing? That was certainly a sight, and what a sight it was.

“S’alright — I don’t wanna get rid of you,” The biker stepped in front of you, dangerously close as your back hit the door. “Not yet, anyway.”

You couldn’t lie; Bucky was hot, he was beautiful. Even when he was being a sarcastic ass, but he was just as much one of them as you were. God dammit, as much as you wanted to slap yourself for letting your insides melt for a guy you didn’t know all that well, you knew that if you didn’t fucking kiss him right this second that you’d regret the hell out of it later.

And so, you did.

You grabbed the collar of the leather jacket he never failed to make an appearance without— or perhaps he just had a lot of leather jackets, though leather jackets didn’t necessarily need washed so it was probably the same jacket— not the time, _____. Carrying on, you swiftly captured his lips with yours, relief washing through you as you felt him react almost immediately. Almost, he definitely wasn’t expecting you to do that.

The kiss was gentle; gentle enough so that you could simply savour the feeling of his lips on yours, the taste a mixture of smoke and minty chewing gum. It was slow, but quick. Bucky didn’t even have the chance to move his hands to your waist before you pulled back, raising your hand to trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

“You still planning on getting rid of me?” You grinned, amused by the biker’s dumbfounded expression.

He laughed breathily after a couple of seconds, nose nudging yours playfully. “Not if you keep kissin’ me like that, baby.”

“Hm, maybe you’ll just get lucky again.” You pushed at his chest softly, letting you step forward and open the door to leave the office.

Bucky let out a scoff. “You’re really just gonna leave? After that?”

You shrugged, cocking a brow. “I mean, I could stay if you let me come with you next week...”

“No chance,” He smiled smugly. “Shut the door on your way out, will you?”

“You know what? I’m never kissing you again.”

“Whatever you say, _____.”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, turning to make your way out of the room. “And I’m leaving the door open!”

“Hm, get home safe.” He called back.

Trying to bite back a smile as you looked over your shoulder back at him, you mouthed a final goodbye and left the office, a rush of feelings suddenly emerging as you stepped out of the clubhouse and onto the street.

You’d just kissed Bucky. You had kissed Bucky. And he had kissed you back. Well, shit.

Did you need to talk about it with him? What it meant for the two of you? Did he just kiss you for the fun of it or did he actually have feelings for you? Ugh. You’d always hated serious conversations, because apparently using sarcasm to cover up actually talking about your feelings was inappropriate and unhealthy. That’s what Peggy always told you, anyway. Perhaps there was no conversation to be had. Bucky could be your summer fling; a couple of months of fun before you were off on your travels again. The only reason he kissed you back might’ve been because he knew you were leaving eventually, which meant he didn’t have to commit to you.

Whatever — you were simply going to go with the flow. If you and Bucky ended up becoming... something more, that would be great. If not, you’d be slightly disappointed, but you’d be out of Brooklyn soon enough to forget about it.

And now, as you tightened your arms around the biker’s waist, you just enjoyed the moment. As someone that rarely stayed in a city for longer than a couple of weeks, enjoying the moment was all that you could do.

* * *

“Pegs, I am working. You can’t just call and ask me this kinda stuff during a shift.”

“I certainly can, especially when I had to hear it first from Steve.”

A strained sign fell from your lips as you leaned against bar, checking that no customers were approaching the counter before you turned your back. “I was gonna tell you, I promise. I didn’t think Bucky was gonna kiss and tell as soon as it happened.”

“I don’t think it was exactly a kiss and tell situation,” Peggy chuckled over the phone. “Steve said it was written all over his face after you’d left the clubhouse.”

Feeling heat rushing to your own face, you lowered your head, hoping no one was observing the bartender getting all embarrassed. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Peggy about your kiss with Bucky. She was your best friend, of course you wanted to tell her. But considering that you weren’t really sure what direction you and him were going in, you thought perhaps that it’d be better to just keep it between you and him, like a Danny and Sandy situation — if everyone had known about their summer affair, it wouldn’t have been the same.

“Can you... tell him to not question Bucky about it?” You asked. “You told me he’d never been in a proper relationship before and neither have I. I think we need to work out... whatever we are ourselves, you know?”

Since the kiss, you hadn’t had the chance to even see Bucky that much. Wanda had been asking you to work more shifts at the bar because one of your co-workers was going on vacation for two weeks, which you didn’t mind doing. Other than hanging out with Peggy and seeing everyone at the clubhouse, it’s not like you had much better to do. Plus, it meant more money to put towards your travels at the end of the summer. At the rate you were earning and including what you already had saved up, you’d be getting your dream London trip a lot sooner than you’d thought.

“Of course, I understand,” She replied. “_____, I— I don’t want to play devil’s advocate, but have you thought about what’ll happen when summer ends? When you leave Brooklyn?”

The thought had crossed your mind, yes, though it was also pushed to the back of your mind whenever it popped up. In all honesty, you had zero clue what’d happen when you left Brooklyn again.

“Nope,” You said defeatedly. “Do I need to think about that now? What if we don’t even last until the end of summer?”

From the pause in conversation, you could just tell that Peggy knew you were bullshitting. “Okay, I’m going to pretend you did not just say that. You don’t just kiss guys, _____. And Bucky doesn’t get all flushed from kissing any old woman. It’s obvious you two click easily, and I honestly don’t think it’s something that can just end once you leave.”

The girl was right, she was completely right, but you weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to do. It’s not like you could stay in Brooklyn forever and abandon your travels. That wasn’t who you were; staying wouldn’t be you being true to yourself. You couldn’t throw that away for a man you barely knew, a guy that possibly may not want you anymore after the summer ends, though there was a large part of you that didn’t believe that.

“I can’t talk about this right now, Peggy, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the kiss earlier, everything is just... it’s just confusing,” You rambled, wanting to steer the conversation away from your love life for the night. It was nearing nine o’clock, and with an hour still left of your shift, you didn’t want to waste your energy on a conversation that could be had another time. “Anyway, how is everyone? Has Steve heard from Bucky?”

This night was also the night that poor Peter Parker was meant to be carrying out Rumlow’s dirty work, and Bucky was going to get his club to back off. Well, hopefully. He’d already been punched in the face by that bastard once, you hoped that he’d be able to avoid having that happen again. You’d texted him earlier, telling him to let you know when he was home and safe because you would, in fact, worry about him. He teased you for your concern, but you frankly didn’t care. The fact they were having Peter pick up a weapon shipment implied that they wanted to use them to hurt people, and opposing biker clubs seemed like the type of people they’d target.

“They’ve been out an hour, so they should hopefully be back soon,” Peggy assured you. “We haven’t heard from them yet, though.”

“Right,” You exhaled, a little upset that there was no update from them. The sound of the door opening a few metered behind you reminded you that you were still at work, and that you should probably say goodbye to Peggy for the time being. “I’ve gotta go, Pegs — duty calls. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright, darling. Be careful going home.”

With a quiet ‘will do’, you quickly ended the phone call and shoved the device into your jean pocket, turning around to identify the source of the footsteps getting closer to the bar. Well, fuck.

An ugly smirk, scruffy jaw, messy hair — Brock fucking Rumlow was standing right in front of you.

You could’ve laughed, in fact, you did laugh. He was back, even after the embarrassing show he put on last time he was at the bar, and this time, he was alone.

Putting back the glass you’d pulled out from under the bar on instinct, because there was no way you were serving him, you cocked a brow, waiting for him to make the first move.

He slid onto the stool in front of you, the same place he’d sat during his last visit. There was a short silence as his dark eyes roamed your face, before he exhaled heavily. “You not gonna ask for my order?”

“No.” You answered instantly. It looked like he was expecting the cold shoulder from the way he chuckled at your answer.

You wanted to ask what he was doing here, why he wasn’t down at that random warehouse making sure the teenager he manipulated was doing the job correctly, but you didn’t imagine it was a good idea to let on that Bucky was telling you about that sort of stuff. He’d probably try to hurt him as opposed to you, and you didn’t want to put Bucky in any unnecessary shit.

“You know, it’s against the law to refuse service to an innocent customer.”

Clearly, he didn’t know the law at all, but you found it awfully ironic that he was claiming that you were in the wrong side of the law. You cocked your brow higher. “And you’re always abiding by the law, Brock?”

“What makes you think I’m not?” The man narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged nonchalantly. “Last time you were here, you were the one assaulting an innocent customer, and me.”

Brock scoffed. “You’re calling Barnes innocent?”

You only stared at him, waiting for an elaboration.

“Do you know where he is right now?”

Yes — dealing with your bullshit and the rest of your gang.

“Enlighten me.”

“A dirty warehouse across town, meeting a dude that’s sellin’ him weapons. Rifles, pistols, you name it.” He leaned forward on his elbows, pursing his lips.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you met his eyes, dark and full of hope that he’d somehow miraculously turned you against Bucky -- he was going to have to try a little harder than that if he wanted to sell his lies.

“Where are the rest of you pals, Brock?”

He furrowed his brows. “Down at the warehouse, shutting down the deal.”

“And why aren’t you with them, hm? I don’t think it’s ‘cause you decided you wanted a drink over the chance to screw Bucky and his club over.”

The guy clearly thought you were oblivious, that you’d be naive enough to believe that Bucky was the one having Peter collect the weapons instead of him. Maybe he thought it’d turn you against him, and then you’d carelessly join Rumlow’s club without a second thought. Even if Bucky hadn’t told you anything, there wasn’t a thing that could come out of Rumlow’s mouth that could convince you Bucky’s club was doing anything of the sort.

Unfortunately, the comment seemed to tip the conversation in the exact way you hadn’t wanted it to.

Brock’s jaw clenched, eyes hardening as he sat up properly on the stool. “What’s he been tellin’ you, huh?”

“I think it’s time for you to go, Brock.” You glared at the man. There was no way you were letting him sit and annoy the shit out of you when you weren’t going to serve him.

“You see,” He laughed emptily. “If Barnes has been spillin’ things that he shouldn’t be, I need to know. Can’t have any false information spreading.”

“False information, right,” You muttered. In your defense, all you knew about his club was about them manipulating Peter. Though you could assume that wasn’t the only stupid shit they were doing, you didn’t know anything else for sure. “Well, you’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything, so get out of here.”

Brock tutted, rising from his seat and cracking his knuckles. “You’re a good liar, but I ain’t buyin’ it.”

“That’s not my problem,” You glowered, loving quickly around the bar to pace towards the door, opening it in an attempt to lure him out. “You need to go, or I’ll call Wanda over.”

Stalking towards you, the man shook his head. “If Barnes thinks he can tell his little girlfriend all of our business, he’s a fucking idiot,” He took a grasp on your wrist, his other hand curling into a fist. “Someone’s gotta show him what the consequences of that are.”

Anger flashed in your eyes as you struggled against his grip. “Get off me, dude. I don’t know anything.”

“Liar.” He murmured, before taking his fist and colliding it with your cheek abruptly.

A groan of pain left your lips as you stumbled back, the clutch on your wrist gone as Brock eyed you cautiously. Carefully, you brought your hand to where you’d been hit, blood quickly staining your fingertips as they grazed over the cuts on your skin from Brock’s rings. He’d hit you. That stupid, fucking son of a bitch had punched you. If there was any justifiable reason for you to kick him in the balls, this was it, and you were going to take advantage of the opportunity.

He definitely thought you were done with him for the night; you could tell by the way his chapped lips curled into a sick smile. He thought he’d won — how cute.

When your parents made you take self-defense classes ‘just as a precaution’ when you were a teenager, you thought it was unreasonable. Now, you’d never been more thankful.

Brushing your hair out of your face, your eyes flickered up to Brock, who was still staring down at you. Slowly, you moved so that your back was pressed against the closed bar door, clasping your hands around the long metal handle. The man assumed you were just catching your breath, and wasn’t ready for when you forcefully pushed your body forward, raising a booted foot and slamming it into his crotch.

A string of swear words fell from his lips as his upper body fell forward, Fuck it, you thought, striding over to his hunched over form and smashing your own fist against his cheek. He staggered back, just catching himself on the bar. Eyes wide, he raised his head to scowl at you, spitting blood from his freshly split lip onto the floor beside him.

From the other side of the bar, Wanda jogged over to the scene, an unimpressed scowl on her face. “What the hell is going on?”

The woman knew it wasn’t you causing the trouble, and there was even a smug smirk threatening to peak through her annoyed demeanor at the sight of Brock Rumlow with a split lip. She strode over to him, pulling him up harshly by the collar of his jacket.

“You’re banned from this bar. If I see you in here again, you’re getting a bullet straight through your gut, yes?” Wanda practically spat at the man, who nodded reluctantly and pulled away from her grasp. She turned to you, a small smile on her lips. “_____, you’re free to go early. Do you need...?”

Wanda eyed your cut cheek and bruised jaw, but you only shook your head. “Thanks, Wan, but I’ll just head home.”

The strawberry-blond nodded, sending a final glare towards Brock before heading back behind the bar.

Of course, your stubborn self wouldn’t let yourself leave without having the last word, causing you to approach him as he haphazardly stood from where he’d fallen. “If I ever have the displeasure of seeing you again, and you try to hurt me or anyone else, I’ll cut off your fingers and force them down your throat, you got that?”

Before you could wait for an answer, you were spinning around and heading out the double doors of the bar, ignoring the throb on the left side of your face as a satisfied smirk crept onto your lips. You’d never considered yourself to be a violent person, but when it came to assholes like Brock Rumlow, you didn’t mind getting your hands a little dirty. When you told Peggy about what happened, she’d likely scold you for even just mouthing back at him. You had zero regrets, however. You’d always wanted to experience a bar fight, and now you’d experienced one first hand.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Stretching out your aching knuckles, you swiped it from your jeans.

Back at the clubhouse safe and sound. You want me to pick you up from work in an hour?

You chuckled under your breath, typing out a response.

Can you come up now? Wanda let me off early.

Sure, I’ll be there soon. Did you do something special to get off at this time?

Pausing, you debated whether to let him know straight away about the incident. You decided against it; when he saw your face, he’d figure it out soon enough.

Something like that...

After twenty minutes of aimlessly standing outside of the bar, the familiar roar of a motorcycle engine caught your attention. As the bike came to a stop, the beaming headlights had you squinting to even make out the outline of Bucky in the dark. However, judging by the speed at which he was dismounting the bike, you were sure that the light had allowed him to see the state of you.

“Holy shit, _____,” Bucky paced over to you, hands coming to your shoulders. “What the hell happened?”

You let out a hesitant laugh. “Uh, rough shift?”

Scoffing, the biker narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, looks like it. What— are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You assured him, removing his hands from your shoulders and squeezing them comfortingly. “Trust me, you should see the other guy.”

“You were fighting?”

“Bucky,” You intervened, for now deciding against telling him that it was in fact Brock Rumlow you’d gotten on the wrong side of. It’d only result in him marching into the bar himself and starting another disturbance, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Wanda pulled out her pistol again. “C’mon, can we go? My house, the clubhouse, wherever — I’ll explain when half of my face isn’t aching like hell.”

The man paused, eyeing you cautiously before a soft chuckle left his lips. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” You patted his chest, plastering on a smile. “Now come on; I didn’t wait this long to clean you up when you got decked across the face.”

With an amused eye roll, Bucky tugged on your hand and led you to the bike. He’d never seen someone so calm after getting a punch to the face, but then again — as cliché as it was — he’d never met anyone like you before.

Half an hour later, the biker had you sat on the counter-top in one of the bathrooms at the clubhouse, standing between your legs and gently dabbing at your cut with a wet cloth. The bleeding had stopped by the time you got to the clubhouse, but it still needed cleaned up. You were holding a cool ice pack to your jaw, watching him intently as he took care of you. Might as well take the opportunity to stare at the guy, right?

“I’m gonna put some antiseptic cream on the cut, just to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” He muttered, reaching for the tub of it in the wooden cabinet above you.

“Are you getting a sense of déjà vu too?” You quirked a brow, eliciting a smirk from him.

“Hm, a little bit; I guess we both just can’t avoid trouble,” Bucky cupped your jaw as he applied the cream, chuckling when you mumbled a ‘motherfucker’ under your breath at the sting. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Well,” You sighed. “Long story short... Brock Rumlow happened.”

Pulling back, Bucky furrowed his brows and waited for you to elongate the story, but you only shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. You knew that Brock being involved would only fuel a rage that he couldn’t relieve.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a frustrated laugh falling from his lips. “Rumlow did this to you? Why didn’t you tell me at the bar? Was he still there? I would’ve went in there and—”

“I know exactly what you would’ve done; why do you think I waited until now to tell you?” Though you were smiling, Bucky was still understandably apprehensive. Pursing your lips, you grabbed one of his loosely clenched fists and held it in your lap. “I meant it when I said ‘you should’ve seen the other guy’ — Brock’s face looks the same as mine and he got a boot to the balls. Plus, I think his ego was bruised enough without someone else going in there and knockin’ his lights out.”

Sighing, Bucky shook his head, unable to suppress a small grin. He never underestimated your power; anyone would be a fool to do so. When you were angry, you showed it. When someone hit you, you hit them back harder, metaphorically and literally. It wasn’t even that you had a short temper, you just didn’t put up with people’s shit, and Bucky highly admired that. “Well, I’m jealous of anyone that was there to see it — I bet it was damn hot.”

You scoffed, though seconds later you were shrugging in agreement. “It definitely was, you would’ve loved it.”

While he returned the first-aid stuff to their rightful places in the bathroom, you explained to Bucky what had gotten Brock so riled up. He wasn’t surprised that Brock tried to convince you that he was the bag guy in all of this; he’d tried to do it with Peggy too when she first started dating Steve. In his misogynistic mind, he thought that women were naive enough to be persuaded of anything that he wanted them to believe, and that by getting you on his side would mean he’d ‘won’ over Bucky. Perhaps he’d learned his lesson that night to not underestimate a woman’s power — dumbass.

Down at the warehouse, they’d managed to get Peter out of there before the person delivering the weapon shipment could arrive. There were one or two of Rumlow’s guys there keeping watch, but without him, they ran away like scared children. You teased Bucky about being a ‘big bad biker’ as he explained the night to you, but he insisted it was Natasha that had them crapping their pants; she never usually made an effort to hide the set of knives on her hip, and she apparently had a death-stare that could have anyone shaking in their boots. With him being banned from Wanda’s bar and unsuccessful with his plan of using Peter, they doubted Brock Rumlow would show his face around the area for a while. He’d only be embarrassing himself if he did.

Not long after your cut had been tended to and the pain in your jaw had subsided, you found yourself once again fighting the temptation to stay the night at the clubhouse — the temptation being a whiny biker named Bucky Barnes.

“But you’ve had a rough day,” He bargained, following after you as you made your way to the front door of the clubhouse. “It’ll save you the ride back if you stay.”

Chortling lightly, you turned around to face him. “A rough day? Buck, I gave an asshole a well-deserved kick in the balls, I’ve had a great day.”

“But what about your cheek? It might start bleeding again and—”

“Bucky,” You cut him off, biting back a smile. “Why do you really want me to stay?”

There was a short pause, heat pooling in the biker’s cheeks at the question as he raised a brow, silently asking you if he was supposed to actually answer the question. When you only quirked your own brow, he sighed, his lips curling into a fond smile. “...because I don’t like it when you leave? ‘Cause I like you a whole lot and I really wanna kiss you again?”

Slowly, you trailed a slightly bruised hand up his chest, stopping at the nape of his neck to tangle your fingers in the hair there. “You should’ve just lead with the kiss, biker.”

Before you could notice the doting grin on his lips, Bucky had looped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to his chest, soft lips locking with yours tenderly. Your other arm was quick to wrap around his neck as you found yourself wanting to be impossibly closer to him. You tugged at his hair, eliciting a deep moan from his lips, and you pulled away with a satisfied smirk.

“So you’ll stay?” Bucky spoke against your lips, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“If you keep kissing me like that.” You imitated his words from your last kiss, to which he shook his head and clasped his hand around yours, leading you out of the hallway and up to his room.

You hoped the rest of the club were asleep, because from the thump of your body being pushed against Bucky’s bedroom door after he’d dragged you inside and shut it, you were sure that they could assume who was causing the racket at almost midnight.

Bucky’s mouth was on yours in a matter of seconds, hands cupping your jaw, carefully avoiding pressing against the side that was bruised. Meanwhile, your fingers gently traced across the hem of his t-shirt, riding it up so that the pads of your fingers came into contact with his lower stomach, ghosting over the waistband of his jeans. He stepped back momentarily, shoving his leather jacket down his arms and letting it fall to the floor.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your jacket,” You breathed. “It’s like you’re naked already.”

“Who said anything about getting naked?” He teased, hands coming to trace over your own exposed stomach. “Someone’s eager.”

“You’re stupid,” You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. “Coming from the guy who just said he liked me, sap.”

“Real mature,” He snickered, riding your shirt up to your chest and tugging it off when you raised your arms to aid him. His lips moved to the crook of your neck, trailing light kissed along the soft skin there. “I meant it, though. I really like you, baby.”

A whimper escaped your lips as his attached to a certain spot on your neck, your hand fisting his shirt in response. You didn’t even have to say it back; it was obvious that you felt the same way about him in pretty much every way. The way your body was reacting to his, the breathy way that his name was falling from your swollen lips, and the fact you’d kissed him the week prior was a good indicator too.

“And you said you’d never get in my bed.” Bucky smirked after helping you pull off his own shirt.

“Technically, I’m not in your bed yet.”

“Yet,” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing his hand down your jaw, along the curve of your shoulder and down to the hem of your bra. “Can’t wait to have you there, moaning all pretty for me.”

Your face grew hot at his words, but his lips were on yours again too quickly for him to notice. When he eventually pulled back for air, you bit your lip in anticipation.

“Hm, let’s not wait any longer then.”

And he didn’t let you wait any longer, leaning down to kiss you with a passionate hunger as he dragged you by both of your hands to his bed. Maybe it was the way he didn’t rush, that he took time memorizing every inch of your skin with gentle lips and wandering hands. Maybe it was the sighs and moans of pleasure that he’d managed to draw from you so easily, or the way he whispered praises and sweet nothings into your ear as he positioned himself comfortably between your legs. But after the two of you had reached your highs and were left grinning like idiots and panting for breath, you realised how fucking hard you’d fallen for the damn biker who’d somehow gotten you in his bed.

* * *

Soft snores gradually drew you from your slumber, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks before you eventually squinted your eyes open. It couldn’t have been any later than 5am; daylight was peaking through the curtains of the bedroom, but the world outside was still quiet. Quiet for New York, anyway.

Bucky had his arms tucked under his pillow, face buried into the cotton, lips parted, brown strands of hair falling in front of his face. Back muscles relaxed, shoulders raising slightly as he breathed quietly. He looked pretty like that, innocent even. Innocent in comparison to what occurred in his bed the night before.

As you idly observed him in his peaceful state, you couldn’t help but think about what Peggy had said to you earlier the prior night. She was right, as always. Especially after the night you’d just had with him, there was no way that your feelings for Bucky would just leave along with you leaving after summer. Perhaps sleeping with him was the stupidest decision you’d ever made. Perhaps it would’ve just been easier to not stay the night and pretend like you’d never kissed him in the first place. But you didn’t want that. You wanted him, even if you could only have him for the summer.

A muffled moan jerked your attention away from your thoughts and back to the man laying next to you, who was shifting as he began to wake, the muscles in his back flexing as he did so. It was a sight you could get used to for sure.

Soon enough, his baby blues met yours, a lazy smile overcoming his lips. “Watching me sleep?”

“No.” You denied, though he could see straight through the lie.

He hummed, reaching a hand out to trace over your bruised cheek. You leaned into the touch. “Still hurt?”

“Not really. Had a good doctor fix it up last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh. I mean, he slept with me afterwards which I thought was a little inappropriate...”

The biker scoffed, enclosing an arm around your bare waist to pull you closer. Sloppy kisses were planted down your jaw to your shoulder, ghosting over the dark bruises he’d marked you with only hours ago.

“I’ll miss you, you know. When you have to leave.” Bucky murmured, pulling away and laying back down against the pillow, his nose grazing yours.

You smiled sadly, pushing some of the hair away from his face. “Do you think this was stupid of us? To start something that’s just gonna have to end in a month?”

“Maybe, yeah,” He mirrored your expression, voice still a little raspy. “But I don’t regret it.”

“Me neither,” You twirled a lock of his hair sigh your pointer finger. “What’re you gonna do without me, huh? You might have to find another girl to take rides with you at sunset.”

Bucky shook his head, squeezing your waist. “Nah, I think I’d rather ride solo. Won’t be the same without you just over my shoulder.”

“Even when I get road rage?”

“Especially when you get road rage.”

“Well, we should probably make the most of the time we have left,” You propped yourself up on one elbow, a smirk playing on your lips. “How about a ride while the sun rises?”

“Sounds perfect.” He loosened his hold on you, letting you roll away from him and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“Mind if I take a shower first?”

“Mind if I take a shower with you?”

You thought for a moment. It’d be saving water, wouldn’t it? “Screw it, why not. C’mon, Buck.”

You scurried off to the bathroom, still naked as Bucky followed after you, suddenly not so tired anymore.

Perhaps the summer hadn’t went in the direction you’d been expecting, but you had no complaints about the turn that it’d taken. You’d never believed in fate or destiny, much like you’d never believed in love. However, you’d like to believe that you were meant to meet Bucky when you came back to Brooklyn at some point. You’d never met someone— someone so perfect for you, if you were being honest. He didn’t scold you for your sarcasm, or shame you for standing up for yourself. He responded to your teasing with his own, he knew how to make you laugh, how to make your cheeks hot and your knees weak. You were always on the exact same wavelength, always knowing how the other was feeling, being able to bring out the best in one another.

It seemed like a waste to spend the little time left at home thinking about summer ending, so you simply pushed it out of your mind. Enjoying the moment was something you’d learned to do over and over again, because that was all you could do in the life that you led.

The moments spent with Bucky Barnes were just going to be a little harder to let go of.

* * *

Taglist:

@domolovee @oplunket16 @barnestruck @igotkatiepowers

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Paper Cut Part 2 | Edmund Pevensie x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Making out/kissing

Time/Era: Modern AU but the Pevensies have been to Narnia. 

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Y/N confronts Edmund about the intense injuries she had received in the past. 

A/N: Here’s the second part to paper cut :) If you haven’t read the first part, link below! Please send requests :D Enjoy! 

Part 1 | Part 3 | masterlist | read on ao3

“Edmund, I think you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Edmund’s face was unreadable, almost as if it was made of stone. He stayed quiet; the only sounds that filled the air were the shuffling of the barista and the espresso machine. Y/N wished he would just say something. The silence was damning. 

“Edmund?” His gaze didn’t falter at his name but stayed glued to Y/N’s hand. His eyes traveled up her arm, taking mental notes of every scar, bruise, bump, or cut. Edmund stood up without a word, the chair making a painful screeching noise in his path, and walked out of the coffee shop. 

Meeting her soulmate had been completely different in her head; maybe they would fall into each other’s arms in the streets of London. He would sweep her off of her feet after noticing a small scar on her neck and say something disgustingly romantic. “I’ve been waiting for you, Y/N, you’re even more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.” Then, they would fall madly, deeply in love, and adopt a dog. Fall wedding perhaps? Maybe summer? But here Y/N sat, one hand on her stomach, the other gripping a foreign notebook. Before Y/N could process what was happening, Edmund was out of sight and she was left to her own thoughts. 

~

“Y/N! Wake up!” Y/N was startled by Y/B/F/N shaking her awake. “Don’t you have a final in like an hour?” 

That sentence felt like a bucket of ice water. Y/N sprung up from her warm bed and scrambled to get ready. The clock seemed to run dangerously fast and by the time she opened the door of her lecture hall, the test was being passed out. 

“You have three hours and because I’m in such a good mood, you may use your study guide.” The professor continued to pass the packets around the room. They looked thick and time-consuming. Time management had never been Y/N’s strong suit. 

When she was handed her paper, all she could do was take a deep breath. This professor was a harsh grader, so unless her answers were 100% correct, there was no way Y/N would pass. She took the unfamiliar notebook she received from Edmund out of her bag and opened it to his scribbled notes. 

His handwriting was somewhere in between messy and neat; some of the words ran into one another and they were all slanted to the right slightly, yet the letters were beautifully constructed and entirely intelligible. Edmund also took it upon himself to highlight passages he deemed important with a note at the beginning that read: my sister had to take o chem. I asked her what’s important. That was sweet, Y/N thought. 

It seemed as if Edmund knew what he was talking about, too. Each answer was answered completely with further background information to make it easy to understand. Why would you willingly take this? Seems like hell… was written in the margins next to one of the boxes of text. I could say the same about law, sweater boy. 

By the time Y/N had finished her final, the three hours had turned into 10 minutes. She was one of three students left in the classroom and the other two were looking beyond panicked. Most of the class seemed to have either blazed through it like it was an 8-year-old’s math homework or given up halfway through and accepted their loss. Y/N, however, had to pass this class so she triple-checked her answers, took a daydream break, then checked it again. She would be lying if she said her daydreams didn’t consist of Edmund. She wondered if he would ever text her again. 

The young girl hurriedly walked out of the classroom, happy to be done with the semester. She wrapped her jacket tightly around her and braced herself to brave the aggressive weather. 

“Hey,” A voice from her right called out. It was Edmund; he was leaning against the wall lazily. His nose was a bright pink, as were his cheeks, and his hands were pushed into his pockets for warmth.

“Edmund? What are you doing here? You must be freezing!” Y/N walked over to him and looked him once over. A simple long sleeve shirt, vest, and jeans. Y/N slung her wool scarf around his neck. 

“Oh, uh, thanks…” He pushed himself off of the wall with his shoulder. Damn, his shoulders were huge. 

“I’m sorry about the coffee shop, I didn’t mean to jump you like that,” Y/N apologized bashfully. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“No, I get it. I would have the same reaction. That’s, uh, why I’m here.” Edmund was awkward, looking anywhere but her eyes. Instead, he observed her freckles, eyebrows, and cheeks. “I was wondering if we could, uh, talk? Maybe somewhere private? Like my dorm?”

“Oh, so you want to take me, your newly discovered soulmate, back to your dorm?” Y/N had a hint of mischief in her eyes and a teasing smile on her lips. Edmund’s eyes grew wide and he started to sputter. 

“That’s not what I meant! I would never! I mean unless you wanted to, but no! I just meant to talk,” His cheeks are red again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold. 

“I’m just taking the piss, let’s go, vesty.”

~ 

Edmunds dorm was not what she was expecting. One side looked like it was hit by a tornado, but the other was very organized. Even on the floor, there was a distinct division between the two sides. The neat side, which appeared to be Edmund’s, was very plain. His bed was made with a red duvet and black pillows, his desk was blank besides a small pencil cup, and the cork board hanging above his desk had reminders and pictures. 

“Those are my siblings,” Edmund noticed Y/N’s wandering eyes. “They’re practically dying to meet you, Y/N.”

“How did you know my name? I never told you,” She crossed her arms and strained her neck to look back at him. 

“Ah, so I was right, you don’t remember me. We took a few classes together during first and second years. I always thought you were cute, so I guess it stuck.” Now it was Y/N’s turn to blush. 

“You think I’m cute?” Her arms uncrossed and turned so she was facing him head-on. 

“Well, yeah. You are my soulmate, after all, Y/N. Don’t be silly,” Edmund seemed to be growing more and more comfortable. He was enjoying watching her blush because of what he said; it made a sense of pride grow in his stomach. This was his person, and she was standing right in front of him. 

“Speaking of soulmates…” Y/N trailed off and looked towards the floor. Her hands grasp the zipper of her jacket and unzip it, before rolling up the bottom of her shirt. The jagged scar was on full display, a stark contrast against the skin of her abdomen. Edmund eyed it guiltily; he knew the exact pain she had to go through to get that scar. She had to go through that pain because of him. His own hands found the bottom seam of his own clothes and pulled it up to reveal a matching mark. 

“I can explain but you won’t believe me,” His honey-brown eyes met hers. 

“Try me, Pevensie.” 

He led her to sit on her bed and sat next to her. Y/N hastily kicked off her shoes so she could sit with her legs crossed on her bed. Her shoes tumbled to the ground with two thuds. Edmund, on the other hand, just bent one leg and let the other hang off the edge. He took her hands in his. 

“You have to promise me to listen to it all before you ask questions,” Edmund fidgeted nervously with a ring on Y/N’s fingers as they spoke. Y/N didn’t know if this was on purpose or a subconscious action, but it comforted her all the same.  

“Well, when I was young my parents sent my siblings and me to live away from home. When we were there, my little sister Lucy discovered a wardrobe in one of the spare rooms. Well, inside the wardrobe was this beautiful land called Narnia. It was gorgeous and huge! And when I say huge, I mean HUGE!” He caught himself rambling excitedly and reeled it back in. “Well, uh, anyway, there was this woman, we called her the White Witch and she manipulated me into basically selling my siblings out. The entire nation of Narnia got into a huge battle and the White Witch stabbed me.” 

“Did she lock you up somewhere cold?” Y/N asked, disregarding her promise to stay quiet. 

“Um, yeah. She locked me in this big ice cell. It wasn’t fun. I’m pretty sure I almost got frostbite but my body rejected it because I started warming up randomly.”

Y/N smiled. The paper towel. 

“But that scar on your stomach,” He took his hand away from yours and gently touched your stomach. “Is because she stabbed me. But again, my sister Lucy had this special liquid that could heal any injury.” 

Edmund seemed to smile at the memory. “Long story short, my siblings and I got crowned Kings and Queens of Narnia and ruled for a number of years. We then got sent back-”

“Wait, wait, wait, Kings, and Queens? Who are you? Alexander the Great?” Her tone was teasing and unbelieving. 

“Edmund the Just, actually. And I told you to listen!” His smile reached his eyes this time. “Well we came back to earth through the wardrobe and we were kids again! About a year later, we returned to Narnia and met our good friend Caspian. We had to fight Caspian’s home country. In the end, Aslan helped us and Caspian became a king as well.”

“Who’s Aslan?” Y/N was doing her best to keep up and believe the information, but it was quite hard. 

“He’s a big lion, he’s kind of like the ruler of Narnia. I guess you could say a God? I guess…”

“A big lion god? Edmund…”

“I know it sounds crazy, Y/N. I know but you have to believe me! I went one more time with Lucy and my cousin. We were on a big Naval ship with Caspian and we had to find a bunch of swords-”

“Edmund, love, just tell me the truth.” Y/N was sad that right off the bat her soulmate was lying to her. Edmund’s eyes seemed to lose their sparkle. 

“I would never lie to you, Y/N. Here, look.” He took off Y/N’s scarf and gently placed it on the bed before pulling his vest and shirt over his head. On his rips was a beautifully drawn tattoo of a lion that appeared to be roaring. And on his collarbone was a sword. Y/N delicately reached her hand out and ran her fingertips against the drawing of the weapon. It had insane detail and the way it was drawn made it look sharp. Y/N retracted her hand and sat back. 

“That’s one of the swords we found during my third trip. It was gifted to Caspian by the lord who owned it. And this is Aslan. His roar was the most powerful magic in all of Narnia.” Edmund searched Y/N’s face for any emotion she was feeling. Right now, she was staring at the sword with a pondering look on her face. 

“Okay, say you were a king-”

“I am a king.”

“Fine, you’re a king. What exactly did you do, ya know, as a ruler?”

“Well, me and my brother Peter ran the army and trained them for battle. Along with other things like managing trade and creating political policies.”

“So, fighting? You fight?”

“Yeah, I fought in many battles, big and small. I got stabbed, remember.” His smile was cheeky and he pulled his long sleeve back on. “Once I got good, I didn’t even use a shield. I fought with two swords.”

“TWO? Aren’t those things heavy?”

“Well, yes, but when you went through all of the training I did, it gets easier.” Edmund could tell he was starting to believe him. 

“Tell me more.”

~

The two spent the next few hours discussing the ins and outs of Narnia down to the floor plan of Cair Paravel. Y/N had decided that Edmund had way too much detail to be making it up, and even if he did, it was so magical that she wouldn’t even be mad. 

“Okay, vesty, I believe you.” Y/N says after Edmund gave a lengthy explanation about all the gifts his siblings received and what they do. He stopped mid-word and stared at her. 

“You believe me? Really?” 

Y/N smiled and nodded. “Yes, Edmund. I’m going to be spending my life with you, your highness, so I may as well get familiar with it.”

“Please don’t call me that,” Edmund scooted closer to her. “I hated it even when people in Narnia called me that. I don’t need people outside of Narnia calling me it. Especially not you.” 

She turned her head so she was staring right at him. “Why not me?” Y/N’s speech came out as a whisper. They were so close that she didn’t need to speak loudly. 

“Because if I really was your highness, it would be kind of weird for me to do this.”

Edmund placed a hand on Y/N’s jaw and leaned in. His lips barely brushed her lips before pressing firmly against them. Y/N’s eyes closed shut and she happily kissed back. 

When people described kissing their soulmate for the first time, they always explain it as an electric spark igniting throughout their entire body. They explain it as a firework show full of magnificent colors. Kissing Edmund didn’t feel like that. Kissing Edmund felt like home. She felt safe, secure, and loved as if kissing this boy was what she was meant to do for her entire life. The way he tasted, like peppermint and candy, was the best thing she had ever tasted. And they way he held her, one hand on her jaw and the other holding her close to him by her waist, felt like the warmth of a favorite blanket. The way he moved made her knees feel like jelly. 

As their lip lock continued, his fingertips danced across her back until it landed on the other side of her jaw. He pulled away from their kiss, pressing a quick peck against her nose and jaw before leaning against his headboard. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for my entire life,” Y/N said, her voice gentle and soft. 

“Me too. The thought of kissing you, Y/N L/N, was the only thing that got me through some tough times. I had to make it to be able to feel what it was like.”

Y/N was silent for a long moment. 

“Edmund, love, do you think I will ever go to Narnia?”

Edmund looked at her for a long moment then smiled with half of his mouth. 

“I don’t know, darling, but anything is possible. Especially when it comes to Narnia.” 

[secretshinigami]

Maybe Maybe Maybe

Author: @lightsredapple / Zara_Zara (on AO3)

For: @danthegeek

Pairings/Characters: Light/L. Soichiro Yagami

Rating/Warnings: G. Mentions of alcohol

Prompt: “Soichiro and L go out for drinks, discussing the case in the beginning, then talking about Light, L sharing his feelings for Soichiro’s’ son.”

Author’s notes: Happy holidays everyone! Hope you like this danthegeek, I had fun writing it :)

In the early hours of the morning, L was surrounded by warmth. And he was holding onto that warmth at all the points that mattered: there was a warm waist in his arms, a forehead pressed against the perfect space between delicate shoulder blades, the soft rise and fall of a chest under his hands, and legs entwined into a mess of infinity. Between the slits of his slowly waking eyes, the world was a sleepy ocean of twilight. The world felt so soft in the moment. It was something he often forgot the world could be. It was easy to be blinded by all else when he surrounded himself with the indifferent light of computer screens, scrolling, scrolling, searching… 

For the longest time, L had been deeply acquainted with empty rooms. He’s seen it all, rooms violent with furnishings to rooms desolate with sparsity, and after many years of traveling they all ended up looking the same. This was because, at the root of it, the essence of any hotel was rooted in its transience. The rooms within its building were meant only to be lived in for a certain amount of time before its guests moved on. This sort of transience suited L just fine. He went wherever a case called him and inhabited many hotel rooms but never lived in them. These places were never home. He’d never sought for such a thing in his life. However, when he woke up that morning, feeling well-rested, easy, slow, warm, all of these states which were caused by one young man—he found that none of these things were easy to ignore. What happened to him? he wondered. Normally, at this time he’d be vividly awake and deep within a case. Normally, he wouldn’t even have slept at all and would’ve been on his fifteenth coffee by then. Even after over a year of this set-up, sleep and rest and calm were consistently very novel things for L…but, honestly, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

The seconds ticked by and it would’ve been so easy to have slipped back to sleep. And L would’ve done so, but he could feel Light waking. And if Light was awake then he was most certainly going to be leaving soon. In that moment, stopping that from happening was L’s first and most pressing issue of the day. To win, you must attack, so making like a boa constrictor, he tightened his hold on Light. It was the perfect plan. Light wouldn’t want to move because he wouldn’t want to wake L. He was considerate like that. L didn’t get enough sleep, he always said. It would not only be hypocritical of Light to wake L up but it would also go against Light’s  code of honor and all that jazz. Yes, this was good. More than good, L thought as he nuzzled Light’s back with this forehead and sighed contentedly. With his victory insured, L contendly closed his eyes but frowned when Light moved. It seemed as if he was trying to escape the pirate knot of limbs L had on him, “L,” Light whispered. L remained quiet because he was ��asleep.”

Light fidgeted once more. “L,” Light whispered again and sighed when he got nothing in response. A minute passed where Light stayed with all his warmth and all was well. “I know you’re awake,” Light said, voice just barely a whisper. “I need to get up now…I have class.” 

L still refused to respond or let up on his tight hold on the other man. “L, come on.” Light exasperatedly said as he began trying to pry L’s arms off of him. It was difficult because they were as tight as a dead body in rigor mortis. Did L die during the night? After Light gave a good struggle and finally got one leg loose from L’s own, L inhaled deeply as if he were waking and mumbled, “Mmm? Morning, Light-kun.” He felt Light’s back untense somewhat at signs of life from L and L took that opportunity to strengthen his hold on him. At this point it wasn’t cuddling anymore, they were wrestling in a strange sleepy manner. 

“Good morning, L,” Light said in a conversational tone, entertaining him even if he definitely knew that L had been awake this whole time and was just being difficult. “I need to get up. Let me go.”

“Do you really need to? Is it urgent? Life or death?”

“Yes, so will you please let go of me?” 

“I’m not convinced. If this were truly a life or death situation, you’d sound more distressed.”

“How’s this for distressed…” Light grumbled. And with far more energy than was fair in the morning, Light rolled them over, commencing a brief tussle in the sheets. In one horrible move, Light completely escaped. L stretched one hand towards him, like a dying man reaching for help, but it collapsed when confronted with the merciless look of triumph on Light’s smiling face. With half his face pressed to the pillow, one of L’s eyes watched as Light gracefully walked away and pulled the curtains open, “I’m sorry, L. I have to go.” Light needlessly repeated, except, this time with a pointless apology. 

L rolled more comfortably onto his side and hugged his aching shins as he silently watched Light dress. The morning sunshine was spilling in through their window, flooding the room with daffodil yellow. It burnished Light’s skin a golden color, much of it methodically getting hidden away by needless layers of fabric. The soft sounds of his dressing were simple and sensual. They were the only sounds that moved in the otherwise sleepily still room. Head crushed to his pillow, L catalogued Light’s motions with a passive intensity and sighed to himself. 

“C’mon, don’t pout,” Light chuckled and finished fixing his tie that didn’t need fixing. He then bent down to peck L on the mouth. Both their eyes were slitted open. The peck was chaste. What was with that? It had to be corrected. L’s hand kept Light’s head from moving away. He tried deepening the kiss but Light pulled away with an apologetic grimace and said, “Morning breath.”

L flopped on the bed as if he’d been shot, “You’re so mean to me, Light…Denying me my rights…You should be prosecuted,” L yawned and sleepily glared at Light. 

“A lawsuit from the Greatest Detective in the world? Scary. We’ll talk more about this later, yeah?” Light was a blur as he swept out of the room. The room went quiet.

  ***

  Light wasn’t in fact coming home soon that day. Light enjoyed acting on his freedom and often stayed out of their pent house just because he could. Whether he went out for a walk in the park, or to sweat off energy at the gym, or study in a cafe, he always returned to their place at 9 p.m. sharp. This suited both of them just fine. Each of them were independent creatures at their core, so the time apart was a welcome gift to that part of themselves. Light’s habit on that particular Thursday night was ideal, as L was going to meet someone he had evaded telling Light he was going to see. 

  ***

  Like looking through a fishbowl, L gazed at the explosion of colors in his drink. Instead of sipping it just yet, L picked the colorful umbrella off the rim of it and twirled it in his fingers so that the colorful pattern blurred. With his other finger, he slowly pushed the food menu towards his company, “Shall we order an entree?” It occurred to him, perhaps belatedly, that it was just about edging on dinner time for most people and Soichiro might be hungry. 

  “I’m fine, Ryuzaki. Thank you for the offer, though.” Some beats of silence rested between them. It would’ve been devastatingly awkward if they were anyone other than who they were. L was unbothered by such silences, in fact he often encouraged them, because when suspects were confronted with an uncomfortable silence they tried often to overcompensate for the silence, slipping up in the process. However, he didn’t need that particular advantage of silence in this instance because Soichiro wasn’t under interrogation, of course. Anyhow, the gravity of the awkwardness was dulled somewhat by Soichiro’s unrelenting efforts to keep up the appearance of being unphased by such things. 

  Years of experience in the force curated a disposition that was as cool as a glacier; but, historically,  L was responsible for testing that coolheadedness. Particularly when it came to the terrible suspicions cast against his son that ended up proving untrue. The emotional trauma from that whole period had yet to leave Soichiro and it made him somewhat embittered towards the detective in front of him; this was despite knowing that the things that had to be done during the investigation were necessary for catching as big an evil as Kira. Soichiro only wished Light hadn’t had to go through everything he was put through. 

  Soichrio watched as the little pink umbrella spinning in L’s fingers escaped and whirled to the ground. L blinked at where it fell but did not pick it up, that was when Soichiro decided to speak and go straight to business, “Ryuzaki, why did you ask to meet me…Is everything ok? How is Light?”

  “Light-kun is well. He has his three balanced meals a day, follows a reasonable sleep schedule, and is working very diligently in his studies,” L ticked off on his fingers as if consulting a mental list, “He has also begun trying his hand at baking. A skill of which you can imagine I am very appreciative of.” 

  “Oh that is good. I am glad to hear it.”

  “And how is Yagami-san?” L pressed his fingers to his drink and slid it towards himself to take a sip of it. After L did so, Soichiro lifted his sake and drank from it. The burn from his drink tickled his throat and offered a little bit of comfort from the unease of having L’s big fish eyes looking directly at him. 

  “I’m doing fine, thank you, Ryuzaki. I feel better than I have in months actually.”

  “If I may ask, how so?”

  “Well, the Kira case may have closed two years ago but I haven’t felt this way in a long time,” He thoughtfully paused, “Like things are finally starting to settle.”

  “Settle?” 

  Yagami senior swirled the dark liquid in his glass very quietly. It was quite busy in the bar, but not the loud sort of busyness. The noise level in the place was just enough to hear the clink of the ice cubes inside. That was the only tick that betrayed Soichiro’s discomfort with sharing about himself. He was not a man used to sharing the more introspective parts of himself but he would try for the sake of his former boss, the detective who had caught Kira, and most importantly the man who his son had chosen to spend his life with. 

  When Soichiro had found out that Light and L were in a relationship, he was admittedly very surprised…And not exactly thrilled. The two of them had told him, Sachiko, and Sayu just the previous year during Christmas dinner. Soichiro had already been surprised when Light had asked if he could invite Ryuzaki to it, but he just thought it was because the two of them had become very close friends during the investigation and had kept in contact. However, it did strike him as a little odd that Ryuzaki was still in Japan a year after the Kira case closed. But he had reasoned that any number of things could’ve led L to stay in the area or even draw him back—another case, perhaps. But no, through a series of subtle gestures during that fateful dinner, the nature of their true relationship came to light. Admittedly, Soichiro was a little uncomfortable with this revelation. He was not alone in this because Sachiko was as well. The two of them were of the same generation and mold, one that was generally more conservative in their beliefs. Sayu was shocked but no less understanding. She got over her surprise quicker than her parents. Soichiro regretted his reaction. He wished he had been quicker to accept and understand. It felt like he failed his son by not doing so, and it hurt him to know the way he acted had hurt his son in the process. Their relationship suffered for it and grew weaker than it had ever been. 

  It was through some self-discovery and acts to educate himself in areas he had previously been blind to that he came to understand this relationship Light had built with the man before him. Ryuzaki, or L, may have been quite an odd personality and not at all the sort of person who he and Sachiko thought their son would give his heart to. But he understood it—at least, Soichiro thought he did. L may have been a bit strange, but no one could deny the intellect nestled behind the explosion of black hair. Soichiro wasn’t blind, during the investigation he noticed the way Light and L seemed to click. Listening to them talk to each other was like watching a million fireworks go off at once. It was beautiful to see his son’s intellect and genius at its peak but it was like the sorts of conversations Light and L would have were far above the world’s heads. Soichiro also noticed that just as much as those two connected they also crashed violently against each other, quite literally at times. Both of those things were novelties to him in regards to Light. Soichiro had never seen his normally patient and even-tempered son lose his temper at someone else. Much less throw himself into a physical altercation with another person. That uncovering of his temper was surprising. Equally, on the other hand, he had never seen his son so engaged with another person. It was like all this time his son had been sleepwalking through life, doing everything perfectly, of course, but he’d never seen him so alive until then. It didn’t make sense but then it completely did. 

  “Crimes have returned to the numbers they used to be at before Kira. And with that, they are very…Normal. Nothing on the scale of Kira and his madness. It’s almost like how things used to be a couple years ago but not quite. For one, I’m trying to be home more.” The Kira investigation had forced him to confront his mortality on more than one occasion. Such a confrontation left a lasting impression and was not so easy to shake off. Soichiro may have watched how work life and criminal life may have returned to normalcy; however, he knew that he himself couldn’t follow in those same steps and go back to living life as he used to. Light was already living away and making his life elsewhere, but Soichiro decided to make efforts to try and be there for Sayu and his wife. “I’m still very busy, but my daughter recently showed me an article about the benefits of balancing work and private life…So, I’m trying to do that for them..”

  L nodded and took a long draught of his drink. Soichiro took that opportunity to nurse his sake. L set his sweet drink down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before saying, “Please don’t take offense at my saying this, but I notice Yagami-san has changed.”

  Soichiro blinked. He had not expected that. “I’m not offended. I appreciate it,” He coughed and quietly said, “I’m trying.” 

  “I think it’s admirable. I cannot boast of such a thing,” As if to emphasize that comment, L suddenly pulled out a cherry stem he’d twisted to a knot in his mouth. That, and his familiar way of sitting combined to send a message that said:  I’m the same as always.  It was strange receiving a compliment such as this, especially from the person who was giving it. L was putting himself down to give Soichiro that compliment. But on the other hand he also could’ve been mocking him. It was always hard to tell these sorts of things with L. 

  Soichiro’s discomfort with the situation had only begun to wane but he still felt compelled to get up and order more drinks. So, after getting a slightly stronger glass of sake and another colorful concoction of a drink for L, he felt ready for anything. The extra fortitude the sake gave him did not quite prepare him for L’s next question, “I was thinking over what you’ve said and my attention has caught onto one particular thing. You said you have been trying to change for ‘them’ .. your family, but what of yourself?”

  Soichiro paused, “I’m not sure I understand the question. Isn’t the fact I’m trying to change already to do with myself?”

  “I suppose,” L looked away and sipped his drink as he thought. The truth was he was kind of bored with this train of conversation even though he was the one who had put it in this direction. These kinds of things, the sorts of things to do with hearts and feelings didn’t really interest him unless it was to do with…No one, really. No one except Light. That exception refocused him on the topic at hand and why he was there, “I only meant to ask, are you changing entirely for your family? Such a thing seems like a very selfless undertaking to me.”

  “Well, my family are a very big part of it. Almost everything I’ve done has been for my family, keeping them safe, secure, and cared for,” Soichrio paused in thought and initially took a sip of his sake before he thought of something painful and took a much longer drink of it. Fire tumbled down his throat as he remembered requesting to be imprisoned with his son. He had spent long hours in that cell of his just hoping and praying that the real Kira would slip up and clear his son of all suspicions. Just even thinking about the well of love he had in his soul for his family made something expand in his chest like a bomb exploding in slow motion. It was just too much. He loved them all fiercely and would tear down the world for any one of them. The emotion pounded through his skull and shone sharply in his eyes, “Everything I do, I do for them. At least that’s what I always believed. Yes, my job took me away from home for many many hours, but I always thought it was worth it because when I finally got home at the end of the day I knew the streets were a little safer for my family and everyone else. That was something that always drove me to this field of work. It was why I became a detective. The world can be so cruel, as I’m sure you already know, and probably know far too much of, but there is also good in it. People can be kind just as much as they can be cruel. My family gave me balance because when I returned home, I returned to love.” Soichiro wiped a corner of an eye that was burning with something mysterious. 

  “Out of the darkness and into light.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Forgive me, it was an ill-timed joke. Thank you for sharing what you have, Yagami-san. Speaking as honestly as you have is no easy feat.”

  “Thank you,” Soichiro said. Feeling very odd after unpacking all those thoughts. He hardly remembered L’s original question and he felt he didn’t quite answer it. Or maybe he did.. He wasn’t sure.

  “Have you spoken to Light-kun recently?”

  Soichiro looked down, “No, I haven’t.”

  L extended his hand, “If you’ll allow me your phone I can give you Light-kun’s number. He changes it every so often.” After poking Light’s number into Soichiro’s phone—Light most definitely wouldn’t be too pleased with that but he’d get over it—L slid Yagami senior’s phone back to him and then said, “So as to not take up anymore of your time, I will tell you why I asked us to meet here,” Soichiro leaned forward slightly, alert. “As you know, Light-kun will be graduating just a few months from now. With his incredible skills and talent I feel he will be an invaluable asset to my team. I already offered the job to him and he has accepted. We will be leaving Japan in early June.”

  “I see,” another surprise. But to a certain extent he also expected this. Sparkling pride filled him at the news but it also made him a little sad. Although he already rarely saw Light now, his son would be leaving the country soon and that would stretch their distance to a grander more physical sense. But he was a little confused as to why L was telling him this. “Are you asking for my approval? Light is an adult and can make his own decisions. If that is what he wants to do, I support him.”

  “I wasn’t asking for that. But I’m certain he would appreciate hearing that anyway.”

  And then it clicked. L giving him the phone number and then telling him that he and Light were going to leave… “I think so too,” He blinked at L and saw him differently. He felt he just saw a layer to the man that he was not aware existed. So, he was changing as well. He thought that much of it must’ve been Light’s influence and Soichiro smiled very faintly at the thought of it. He didn’t drink nearly enough to feel a buzz or loosen his tongue, but the knowledge that this was probably the last meeting he’d ever have with Ryuzaki gave him enough courage to say, “You know, I think you’ve changed as well, Ryuzaki.”

  “Oh?”

  Now that he said it, he pushed away embarrassment because such a comment felt too familiar, but Ryuzaki had told him the same thing so it couldn’t be as impolite as it felt. Especially since Soichiro meant it well. “Be honest, Ryuzaki. How do you feel for my son?” When Ryuzaki and Light had visited their home and announced their relationship a year ago, the status was all that they had shared. Of course, such a thing had to be backed up with feelings and he was more than certain they existed. But he wanted to hear it confirmed in some way. Specifically, from the man who was soon going to take his son away.

  “I love your son, Yagmai-san,” There it was. Said factually and flatly, almost coldly. But that was Ryuzaki’s way, and perhaps the factual way in which it was said lent it an undeniable weight of honesty that could not be ignored. 

  Soichiro released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and asked, “He feels like home?”

  L blinked at Soichiro. It was an unexpected question given the sentimentality of it. It was even more sentimental than the one about L’s feelings. L knew of his own feelings but he’d never romanticised them in the way Soichiro’s question was asking him to do. Did Light feel like home? he wondered. What was a home anyway? Despite the questions that were stirred up inside him, L bluntly answered, “He is my home.” L  told himself he’d contemplate that statement later or discard it as something trivial. He reconsidered the latter due to Soichiro’s big smile of happiness and relief. He’d never seen Light’s father smile that way and it made him curious, “What is your home, Yagami-san?”

  “My family, of course.”

  “Is it true even if Light is away?”

  “Yes,” Soichiro’s grin dimmed somewhat, but it was not sad. 

  “I don’t need to apologize for taking him away then.”

  “That’s right.”

  L lifted a corner of his mouth, “Good. I wasn’t planning on it.”

***

  Later that night, when L had his head on Light’s lap and was dozing away, Light’s phone rang. L blinked his eyes open and watched as Light impassively checked it. L said, “You should get that.”

  Light raised an eyebrow at him, phone held aloft and vibrating in his hand probably with only seconds left to live, “Oh?”

  L just stared at him without an answer. Light frowned slightly but his curiosity was a persuasive force. He flipped his phone open and tucked it between his shoulder and chin with one last weary glance down at L. “Hello?” One of his hands resumed idly running through L’s hair but with less intent than before. 

  The volume was too low to hear anything, especially with the tv. But a low and staticy “Light” could be heard.

  “Dad?” Light said in initial confusion before looking down at L. A flash of realization passed in his eyes as Light realized the answer was right there in his lap. Quickly getting over his surprise and trading it for weary caution Light asked, “Are you ok?” He moved L’s head off his lap and got up, walking away to another room where he closed the door. Sealing away his voice as he spoke on the phone. 

  Hmmph, why didn’t Soichiro call a little bit earlier? Preferably, before L had his head on his son’s lap? Lolling on the couch for a bit, he waited for Light to return, but the call was taking longer than expected. When he tried listening through the door, he couldn’t hear anything, which led him to believe Light had gone into the room’s bathroom to add an extra layer of distance. 

  Forty minutes passed before Light finished his call. L had lost interest in the movie he had not really been watching and turned off the tv to read. But he was not really interested in the book either and put the book down when he saw Light reappear. Light remained in a meditative silence as he returned to the couch. L watched him the entire way, trying to pick up on what Light felt and what he was thinking. Light reclined on the couch and moved so he faced L, propping his chin on his hand he matched L’s stares and quietly regarded him, “That was my dad,” he needlessly said.

  “I know.”

  “Of course,” Light rolled his eyes but turned more serious and said, “I don’t appreciate my phone number being handed out so freely. Nor do I like how you’ve interfered in my family business. But I appreciate the inventions behind it all, just don’t do it again. I can handle these things on my own.”

  L nodded and found his toes a very interesting thing as he stared at them. “You’re mad at me.”

  “I’m not. Sure, I’m a little put-out but I’m not angry. As I said, just don’t do something like that again.” 

  Unable to contain himself anymore, L asked, “How did the call go?”

  “It was fine,” Light shrugged in a far too deliberate manner. “He just talked about work and I talked about university. Nothing important.”

  “You spent 45 minutes in there.”

  “He was very intrigued by my class to do with the history of Japanese Criminology.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Where did we leave off again?” Light turned the tv on again and resumed the movie they’d been watching. 

When they were in bed once again, drifting off to sleep, L wondered about what Soichiro said, did Light feel like home? He felt an arm encircle his waist and drag him back into Light’s chest. So Light really didn’t mind what I did, he thought and relaxed into his hold. It was a reverse of earlier that morning when L was holding him instead. Now Light was mirroring that position of the past but in his own way. His forehead was pressed to the back of his neck and their legs were fitted together, not tangled. Is this home? He thought, as he idly played with Light’s fingers. L sighed and then Light sighed with him. Maybe.

[shieldherostuffs]

Hunger Games AU

---*★°*:.☆.:*°★*--- Before the Games

So, Naofumi comes from a poor family from District 12, where the government abuses the people there for the workforce. Naofumi's family consists of him, his mother and father, and his 10-year-old little brother.

Naofumi and his father, together with all the other men and miners in the village, go to the mines every day, while his mother and brother would manage the little medicine shop of the village, though all they really had to work with were basic herbs and such. Sometimes though, Naofumi would go outside of the border, into the nearby forest, and check a few traps he'd set up to get maybe just a little extra food, like a rabbit or squirrel to sell.

When the Hunger Games come around, Naofumi's brother ends up chosen, together with a 12-year-old orphan girl, Raphtalia. Naofumi, in fear of his young brother's life, volunteers as tribute in his stead. But, fearing for their own lives, no one volunteers instead of the young girl, and the two are sent away to fight in the Games. But, not before Naofumi has a tearful last meeting with his family.

During the Train Ride to the Capitol, they meet their Mentor, a guy named Erhard. Erhard, as neither Naofumi nor Raphtalia has ever really used any weapons before, reached them a bit in their free time, and coaches them. Raphtalia seems to have an affinity for using blades like swords and machetes, while Naofumi more for hand-to-hand combat and smaller knives or daggers.

During the Tribute Parade, Naofumi and Raphtalia get a lot of cheers when they ride down with their clothes on blue fire, holding their hands up together. The idea for their clothes came from the lady who also made them, a nice Lady who calls herself Tailor.

During the Interviews, Naofumi is wearing what is basically a black-blue suit, and a corset with a crimson waist-cape attached. Raphtalia wears a cute black dress with blue glitter and a crimson sash around her waist, holding a crimson overskirt. Both of them show off that the crimson parts of their outfits are set on fire when they spin.

(Naofumi also notes that the guy from 1, L'Arc Berg, apparently has a girlfriend at home. L'Arc couldn't promise her he would come back alive, but he promised he would try. L'Arc also praised Naofumi and Raphtalia's outfits during the Parade with a grin.)

---*★°*:.☆.:*°★*--- During the Games

During the Games, Naofumi just runs in at gets the two things closest to him, a backpack and some rope. While running around, sleeping in trees, and hunting small animals with traps, Naofumi finds a group of other players banding together. The guy and girl from 1, L'Arc and Malty, Motoyasu from 2, Itsuki from 3, Ren from 5, and Elena from 8.

Naofumi notices that while the others are cheering and talking loudly about how they're going to win and kill the others, L'Arc and Ren mostly keep quiet. Ren just looks indifferent, while L'Arc looks almost downcast, or sad. Itsuki is talking about needing to take down the people outside their group who killed each other just for the things at the start point, playing a justice-filling teen.

While hiding from them in a tree, Naofumi notices Filo, an 11-year-old girl from District 6 a couple of trees away, together with Raphtalia. Naofumi sigh in relief that Raphtalia is alright before they signal for him to cut down a wasp nest nearby. Naofumi does so, while getting stung a bit, and the nest falls. While the others run, Ren ends up falling, having to carry both a sword and a shield.

Seeing Filo walking around with a Machete, Naofumi gives Raphtalia the sword to protect herself, and puts the Shield on his arm, before promptly passing out from the wasp stings a bit away.

From then on, the three of them work together to survive.

Suddenly, an announcement is made. The Rule for a single victor has been changed, and now two people are able to win together if they're not from the same district. Naofumi plans to sacrifice himself so Raphtalia and Filo can win the Games, and live their lives.

(The reason for the announcement, is because the Game Master, Aultcray, decided that he wanted his daughter, Malty back, and for her to chose anyone to live with, preferably someone good enough to marry and have a nice life with)

But, after a plan to make the group from before (—L'Arc is missing, Naofumi notes), Filo is killed, and Raphtalia is taken, hostage. Dying in Naofumi's arms, Naofumi remembers Filo telling him and Raphtalia that she didn't want to play in the Games, she just wanted to go home and play with her friend, Mel-Chan.

Determination in his eyes, Naofumi takes the Machete and goes to confront the group. Malty holds a dagger to Raphtalia's throat. After some trying for negotiation, Raphtalia shouts out that Naofumi should just let her die, since she has no one at home anyway. When Malty tells her to shut up, she continues, saying Naofumi should go back to his family.

Fed up with the shouting and useless words, Malty slits Raphtalia's throat, before pushing her off the small cliff they were on, into a field of landmines separating them and Naofumi.

Seeing this, Naofumi is furious but starts running, trying to stuff the blurriness his tears bring. The group follows after Naofumi into the forest, planning another kill.

While running, Naofumi is suddenly tugged into a small, hidden cave, a hand over his mouth and an arms holding his arms against his torso. He's now sitting between someone's legs, pressed against a fit torso.

After some time, about 10 minutes, of both of them sitting completely still to not get noticed, Naofumi starts struggling to get free. The other person holds him tight, and whispers in his ear.

"I'll let you go if you agree to cooperate. Right now, our only chance to survive that group is if we work together. Malty is slowly manipulating the other players to do her bidding, so if we want to survive her little gang, we have to team up." The voice, male, says. Naofumi recognizes the voice.

Seizing his struggling, but still tense, Naofumi stiffly nods, and the arms let him to. Scurrying, Naofumi scrambles to the other side of the cave, tense and ready for a fight. Seeing the other person, they're ready for a fight too.

L'Arc Berg, from district 1. Looking him over, Naofumi notes that he too has a backpack with unknown contents, and a sickle at each hip.

Staring each other down, after a bit, Naofumi speaks, having thought the offer over.

"Fine. I'll agree to a team-up for now. But do anything suspicious and you're dead." Naofumi says sternly

L'Arc agrees, and they quickly get to set up some traps around to catch some dinner, as it's getting late. After eating, they're each sitting in front of a side of the cave again, staring at each other. They'd already put the fire out, a bit far away.

Deciding to at least try to be a little friendly, or just start a conversation, Naofumi asks why L'Arc isn't with the group anymore.

L'Arc then explains that after he slipped up and said he didn't want to be in the games of his own will, they deemed that he wasn't 'trustworthy', and shot an arrow to his side before pushing him off a cliff, into a river. Somehow, luckily for him, he only ended up with blue and yellow bruises and some minor injuries from the river, and it cleaned his arrow wound. After getting some bandages and salve from a sponsor(His girlfriend, signed T.A), it's nearly healed.

Naofumi tells of how he'd betrayed too once. Some guy with a lot of power in his district had seen Naofumi 7 years ago almost die from hunger in the rain and had helped. The guy continuously came back with some food for Naofumi and his family, saying he just wanted to help. But, when he one day asked Naofumi to come with him somewhere, there's been others there too, and the guy had tried getting Naofumi to—... getting him into an uncomfortable situation.

Naofumi, luckily, had been able to run back to his house and never saw the guy again. But it still scars.

Suddenly, L'Arc had gone over to sit beside Naofumi, saying nothing. Naofumi appreciates the gesture.

After some days of hunting and traveling around together, they've already gotten closer. Naofumi even caught L'Arc when the redhead almost fell off a cliff, to the first ground far below.

Now, one evening, sometime after they've eaten, they're hiding under a very low and small cliff, hiding them in the darkness. They suddenly hear footsteps and voices.

It's Malty's group, with two new members, talking about how someone must be nearby, with the put-out fire. Naofumi and L'Arc stay close, tense, and unmoving. After a while of the footsteps disappearing, and relax a little.

Huddling closer, Naofumi lays his head on L'Arc's shoulder and intertwines their pinkies. L'Arc smiled softly to himself before moving his hand away and moving it around Naofumi to pull Naofumi closer.

"Just for the warmth. It's cold." Naofumi mutters, not bothering with hiding his faint blush in the dark

"Just for the warmth," L'Arc repeats, before feeling Naofumi falls asleep against him

---

Some days later, it's only Naofumi, L'Arc, Malty, Itsuki, Motoyasu, and Wyndia from 5 left. But, Naofumi has been coughing a lot for a while now and threw up a few days ago. He's sick.

(Unknown to them, the Wasps Naofumi was stung by in the beginning also has a long-lasting poison, that can kill someone from the inside out, if not treated. Inside the arena, only the medicine which has now been wasted and thrown away was able to help. Naofumi can either win and get treatment, or die.)

When the announcement comes that the Game Hosts are feeling generous, by putting out bags with what each district now need by the Cornucopia. L'Arc hurries off while Naofumi is out after throwing up. He ends up seeing Malty kill off Wyndia while Motoyasu runs for the bags.

But, with Itsuki on the lookout with his bow ready, L'Arc is unable to get the medicine for Naofumi. So, he can only hurry back.

But, during the night two days later, Itsuki is dead, and the Finale has started.

Walking around the forest in the morning to find some more clean water, Naofumi and L'Arc hear growling around them.

Naofumi protects himself with the Shield just in time, and L'Arc attacks. A wolf. And the rest of the pack is coming closer.

Naofumi and L'Arc start running, being forced in the direction of the Cornucopia. While running, L'Arc had to throw the sickles to get two wolves away from Naofumi. Getting on top, they find a Scythe that's been thrown up at the start of the game, which L'Arc grabs. Then, they're faced with Motoyasu and Malty.

As they start fighting, Naofumi protects himself from Malty's daggers with the shield, while L'Arc fights Motoyasu's spear with his new scythe.

Naofumi ends up pushing Malty to the furiously hungry Wolves, and L'Arc cuts Motoyasu across the torso, making the blonde stagger before falling to the Wolves too.

But, during their fight, Motoyasu managed to stab L'Arc's stomach.

As L'Arc falls down, pressing on the wound, Naofumi hurries over, worrying for his partner.

Gently, L'Arc whispers that he's glad that at least Naofumi is going to live, with a soft smile.

But, Naofumi starts violently coughing, and as he moves his hands away from his mouth, they're coated in blood, and it's running down his lips.

With a sad smile, Naofumi whispers.

"No. I'm not going to live either, L'Arc. I'm gonna die too. We live or die together, L'Arc." Naofumi speaks, before collapsing beside L'Arc

"It's... It's not that bad, I guess... Dying beside you, I mean," L'Arc rasps

"You sure, about that? After we played a game, of killing each other?" Naofumi asks sarcastically, but with a smile on his lips

"Don't ruin it," L'Arc jokes, before they each close their eyes

Suddenly, an announcement is made.

"AND THERE YOU HAVE IT, FOLK! THE TWO VICTORS OF THE 67TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES! NAOFUMI IWATANI OF DISTRICT 12, AND L'ARC BERG OF DRISTRICT 1!"

As the announcement sinks in, Naofumi intertwines his hand with L'Arc's and raises it high, before both of them pass out, still holding hands, as an aircraft appears above them.

---*★°*:.☆.:*°★*--- After the Games

After the end of the game, Naofumi and L'Arc are quickly taken to the hospital to be treated in time for the Victory Parade.

After healing up, while staying in the penthouse for the next week, Naofumi gets visitors. It's L'Arc, and he brought a very beautiful blue-haired lady along.

L'Arc introduces her as Therese Alexandrite, his girlfriend.

Therese, without warning, pulling Naofumi into a tight hug, thanking him over and over for bringing L'Arc home to her, and helping him during the games, and telling Naofumi that he really inspired her.

Inviting them in, the three end up spending the whole day, until late at night, chatting.

After showing the two the guest rooms, Naofumi goes to his room to try and get some proper sleep since the games.

It doesn't happen. His dreams— Nightmares, more like, are filled with trauma and memories from the games. Naofumi ends up waking up screaming, and Therese rushing in very little later. Halting, she finds Naofumi curled up on the bed, shaking and gripping his head with tears in his eyes.

Gently, she coaxes him to come with her to the living room. There, Naofumi finds L'Ac sitting criss-cross on the couch, a thick blanket wrapped tightly around him.

Therese sits Naofumi on the couch beside L'Arc, who seemed to also have had nightmares, only for L'Arc to quickly pull Naofumi under the blanket with him. Gripping L'Arc's pajama shirt, Naofumi almost doesn't notice when Therese goes to the kitchen area.

Some clanking and other sounds later, Therese comes over with three cups of hot chocolate, and hands the two one each, before sitting on the sofa chair moved in front of them, with her own cup.

For mostly the rest of the night, they spend with Therese gently calming the two down and just talking to them.

(Also, when L'Arc came back to the place he was staying at in the Capitol, he found Therese inside, waiting for him. After a reunion, L'Arc had taken Therese to the privacy of his room and talked to her. He explained that, despite their circumstances, he held some feelings for Naofumi, and that on TV, he wasn't really acting. His feelings were real.)

[amazedforjjk]

Escape 8 - Ot7

The gif is not mine!

Characters: Lion!Namjoon, Jaguar!Jin, Black panther!Yoongi, Cheetah!Hoseok, Snow Leopard!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, cougar!Jungkook, Serval!Reader

Summary: In a world where Hybrid protection laws are gradually strengthening, many organisations are still advocating for the complete extermination of your species. What happens when you find yourself and 7 other predatory hybrids in a truck en route to a hybrid slaughter facility?

Genre: fluff, smut

Warning: fingering, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex (Wrap it up kids), creampie, strong language

A.N: Here is chapter 8! This fic is longer than what I originally planned but I’m happy! This is my first time writing smut so I hope you’ll like it!

Word count: 3.5K

<Previous//Next>

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The other side of your bed is cold by the time you wake up. Jimin has already gone to work. You yawn before sleepily making your way to the kitchen. The whole house is empty since it’s already 12 p.m., and your eyes widen when you realize how long you slept. You look through the fridge in search of food and your eyes fall on a plate of pancakes along with a small note.

“Just warm them up, they should be delicious ;) - Jin”

You smile at the attention before plopping the stack of puffy disks in the microwave. You’ll thank the jaguar later for his thoughtfulness, you think to yourself as you pour yourself a drink. Since it was their first day for all of them, they should be back around the same time later this evening. Normally, Yoongi and Namjoon would work during the night, but today is their training day so they are just learning the ropes.

The brunch was indeed just as delicious as Jin promised, and you happily stroll back to your room to get dressed and take a shower.

The start of your afternoon consists solely of browsing the furniture catalogue Emilio provided you yesterday while enjoying the sun in the garden, surrounded by flowers. You choose different items to decorate the place, along with a TV and two beds. One for Jimin, and one for Taehyung. Only if he needs to stay a night, of course…

You miss him. More than you probably should but you feel this unexplainable pull towards him. Towards all of them if you were truly honest but you don’t even dare think about that. You have heard about mates, that hybrids were engineered to be able to form special bonds with their owners, but also with the other hybrids they live with. But seven mates? Is this even possible? You sigh. It doesn’t help that the hybrids you live with are extremely attractive, with each their special traits that make them amazingly unique.

Moreover, this supposed bond is supposed to be formed over time. It is in no case instantaneous, and you can’t help but wonder how yours could have formed so rapidly. Perhaps traumatic experiences can form bonds quicker. That would explain the special relationship between the eight of you, and your incomprehensible need to protect and be with them.

You don’t know what the future holds for this family, nothing but happiness you hope. But right now, it still feels incomplete. Taehyung is the missing piece of the puzzle that is your home. Thinking of him makes your heart ache, so you try to focus on the furniture instead. But it’s hard when your brain only wants to focus on him, his voice, his smell…

Wait.

His smell! You get up at once when you realize that what you smell is not a figment of your imagination, the catalogue falling from your hands. You run without a care to the door, opening it with full force to reveal a startled Taehyung. You pause for a second to make sure you aren’t dreaming before jumping in his arms screaming his name. He immediately wraps his arms around you, spinning you in his arms, nose nestled at the crook of your neck. You grip harder at his jacket, not willing to ever let go ever again, face pressed against him. Your heart is beating a hundred miles an hour in your chest, tail swishing excitedly behind you.

He puts you back on your feet and you move backwards to take him in. Your smile falters as your eyes fall on his disheveled state. His hair is dirty, jacket covered in dirt and his eyes scream fatigue. You usher him in at once to make him sit on the couch.

“What happened to you?” you ask, voice full with worry. He smiles tiredly at you.

“She replaced me.”

“What?”

You look at him incredulously, taking his hands in yours to urge him to tell you more.

“She didn’t care that I was taken. She replaced me with another hybrid. I left as soon as I saw them.” A forced smile is still plastered on his face, doing a poor job at masking his pain.

“You slept outside?”

“I was too far from the center. And I had some troubles with some humans so I had to hide for a while”

“I’m so sorry Tae-” you start to say before he interrupts you.

“I’m so fucking happy to be with you again”

You meet his eyes before engulfing him in another hug. You wish you could take all his hurt away, starting with his hunger, you think as you hear his stomach rumble.

“Do you want to take a shower? I’ll make you something to eat”

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

You are busy finishing his omelet when he steps back in the living room. You borrowed some clothes from Jimin for him, fairly sure that the snow leopard wouldn’t mind. As you turn around to place his plate on the table, you notice Taehyung looking around the room in curiosity.

“This is a really nice house,” he says as he comes to sit at the table. You sit across him, brows furrowed in worry. You don’t even respond to him before asking him more questions.

“You found us thanks to the center? You talked to Emilio?”

“Hmmm- Yeah. He was very nice. He told me not to worry and that he would come later to organize things for me, though I’m not sure what he meant by that,” he answers while devouring his omelet. You would feel prideful for the way he is practically inhaling the meal if it weren’t for the fact that he probably hasn’t eaten a proper meal in 3 days.

“He probably meant the whole having a job thing”, you explain vaguely with a grin. His eyes widen, and a small bit of omelet falls from his fork stopped just before his mouth.

“We need to have jobs?” he says incredulously, making you laugh. “Is that why the others are not here?”

“Yeah, they are working. I start tomorrow, that’s why I’m alone today” you answer, grinning. He hums in understanding.

“That makes sense actually,” he says before resuming to eat. Neither of you say anything before he ends his plate.

“I missed you so much,” you confess in a whisper, making him look up from his now empty plate. He looks so serious with his golden eyes staring back into yours. You look away from his too-intense gaze and bring his plate back to the kitchen sink. He follows after you.

“I missed you too. I was a fool to think I could live without all of you.”

You stop in your tracks, setting the plate in the sink before turning back to him, eyes wide. He feels it too? He looks expectantly at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. You smile back at him, taking a step towards him to take him in your arms again.

“You won’t leave again will you?” you ask meekly, your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. One of his hands comes under your chin to lift it, making you lock eyes with him.

“Never.”

Next thing you know, his lips come in contact with yours. His kiss is shy, his soft lips grazing yours, as if he is waiting for you to pull away. You grab at the fabric of his shirt to deepen the kiss, making him smile against your lips. His hand leaves your chin to rest on the side of your head, pressing his lips against yours with more urgency. What started as a tentative peck gradually becomes more heated, your hand coming to his hair while the other one pulls at the collar of his shirt.

It’s only a matter of seconds before his tongue enters your mouth, making you groan in the kiss. Your cheeks are burning up, and you feel more and more light headed, your legs turning to jelly. You feel one of his hands sink down to your hips, slipping under your shirt to caress your soft skin. His hand feels so warm against you, the hair at the back of your neck rising at the contact. You lightly bite his bottom lip in retaliation, making him grunt.

You pull away for a second, panting. His eyes are clouded with desire, sending heat directly between your legs, his lips swollen red from the kiss and his cheeks blushed pink.

“Do you want a tour of the house?” you ask, slightly out of breath, your eyes focused on his inviting plump lips.

“I only want to see your room.” he replies in his deep voice, a smirk tugging at his lips, making shivers travel down your spine. If you lived alone, you would’ve taken him right here and then.

You take his hand to lead him to your room, walking faster than normal in excitement. You barely have the time to close the door before his lips are assaulting yours again. His body presses into you, your back pushed against the door. He kisses you hungrily, moaning against you when you pull lightly on his hair. You let your other hand roam on his hard chest, reveling in the feel of his muscles under your touch. His thigh comes between yours, helping him press his body further into yours.

His hand leaves your hip to move up to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh through the fabric of your shirt, making you moan. More, you want more of his touch, more of him. Your hands sink down to the edges of his shirt, slowly uncovering his chest. You break the kiss, eyes lowering to watch, taking in every inch of the smooth skin you are revealing with your motion. You had already noticed his impressive build, but never up close, and boy does he not disappoint. His narrow waist and broad shoulders are enough to make your mouth water.  He chuckles softly at the hungry look in your eyes, proud of how he makes you feel.

You let him remove his shirt, biting your lip at the sight of his caramel skin. Your hands explore every inch of his warm chest as he resumes the assault on your lips. He breaks the kiss once more to remove your shirt. Once the piece of clothing is discarded, his large hands roam your upper body, lovingly gripping at your skin. Taehyung places his hands on your hips to lead you to the bed, pushing you to rest on your back. Your eyes are fixated with his golden one as you fall softly on the plump mattress. He removes your jeans in a swift motion and you ‘ooooh’, impressed, making him smile wide at you before climbing on top of you. You lace your hand through his hair as he starts peppering the sensitive skin of your neck with kisses, turning your head to allow him better access.

You pant in anticipation as he starts to sink down, trailing kisses from your neck to your breasts. He removes your bra, one of his hands coming to cup your breast while he kisses the other. His tongue darts from his mouth to lick your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core while his other hand kneads your other breast. He nibbles softly on the perk bud before continuing his excruciatingly slow descent, kissing down to your stomach. He stops for a second, eyeing the still red marks on both your sides sadly, ears lowering. Suddenly self-conscious about your scars, you bring your hands to hide them but he’s faster, catching your wrists softly and delicately kissing along your scars. He intertwines your fingers together before looking up at you, a beautiful smile on his lips.

“You are so beautiful” is all he says before starting to kiss your stomach again, making you blush even more, if it is even possible.

One of his hands leaves yours, slowly starting to remove your underwear instead. Taehyung stops his kisses to sit on the ball of his heels, staring at you with lustful eyes which makes you completely forget your embarrassment, the sexiest smirk you’ve ever seen on a man plastered on his face. Your underwear finally removed, he comes back to kiss your lips all the while his fingers start griping at your inner thigh. His tongue starts prodding at the entrance of your mouth and you let him in, moaning against his lips in want. You squeeze his bicep to beckon him to touch you, the desire pooling between your legs leaving you a whining mess underneath him. You want him so bad, no scratch that, need him so bad, and you can’t bear to wait any longer.

It has been so long since you last have been touched like that and your body is ever the more sensitive to every brush of his hand on you, every caress of his lips on your skin making your skin burn. You practically jerk forward when his fingers finally come in contact with your core, the delicate brush of his digits against your clit sending jolts of electricity coursing through your body. He slides his fingers up and down against you, gathering your arousal before sinking one inside you. You moan in bliss at the sensations as he adds another one, stretching you slightly as he pumps into you. He feels so fucking good, his long fingers able to reach places farther than your small ones could ever reach. You moan as he explores you, his fingers inside you working wonders and making you see stars.

Taehyung breaks the kiss, instead trailing kisses from your neck to your core, his fingers showing no sign of slowing down. You scream in pleasure as he starts to lick your clit. You arch your back almost in reflex, chasing after his tongue. He knows what he is doing, alternating between licking roughly and sucking on it, and you pant harder as the pleasure consummates you. He places his available hand on the top of your thigh to keep you in place as he starts to suck on the small bundle of nerves. You can tell your climax is impending, the waves of pleasure building up inside you making you cry out his name. The coil inside you finally breaks as his fingers pick up speed, your whole body shaking as he rides out your orgasm.

You pant as he removes his fingers, coming back up to kiss you sweetly. You hum in delight against his mouth, still in the haze of your orgasm, before one of your hands travels down his chest to his pants. Taehyung grunts as you wrap your hand around the bulge of his pants. You break the kiss, biting your bottom lip and trying to muster the most lustful gaze you can. He immediately gets the message, removing his pants in a barely contained excitement, and you sink your hand under his boxers, taking him in your hand. You can already tell that he is big and the thought alone makes your core clench in anticipation.

You pump him for a bit, reveling in the delicious moans escaping his lips before pushing him on his back and settling in between his legs for better access. He looks so beautiful under you like that, his cheeks flushed and his lips still glistening from your arousal. He grunts as you lick a strip from his base to his tip, his fist gripping the sheets. You maintain eye contact as you start to lick the tip of his cock, proud to see him gulp in pleasure. He tastes salty, you notice as you gather his pre-cum with your tongue, making him shiver in pleasure. You slide his cock in your mouth, trying to take as much of him as you can, loving the way his hips buck in pleasure as his dick sinks inches per inches down your throat. He is big and you already know your jaw is going to ache, but you don’t care, redoubling your efforts to take him deeper.

“F-fuck” is all he manages to utter as you bob your head up and down while gently massaging his balls. He suddenly rises, grabbing your shoulders to make you stop. “P-please. I need you”, he says, pushing you back on the bed.

His kiss is almost desperate as he lines up with your entrance, and you moan in anticipation, urging him to sink inside you. He doesn’t waste any time before starting to push into you, his dick stretching you out despite the earlier prep of his fingers. He stops as your cervixes connect, making sure you are alright before starting to move. You feel filled to the brim, and you have almost forgotten how good it feels. Once the burn of the stretch fades, you spur him on by kissing him fervently. His pace is slow at first, enjoying your small whines and moans as he drags on your pleasure. Still feeling sensitive from your first orgasm, it doesn’t take long for him to make you a whiny mess under him, begging him to go faster.

He easily complies with your wants, speeding up until his hips are slamming against yours. His thrusts are rendering you insane, his large cock hitting all the right places. You can’t think straight, barely able to choke out an “Oh my God” under his tenacious pace. You sink your nails in his back as you feel the overwhelming pleasure building up inside you, making him grunt. He grabs the back of your thigh to angle himself better inside you, and you cry out at the new sensations. Never had you ever had a man pound into you so fervently, making you cry out his name in devotion. He kisses you passionately as he continues his relentless assault on your pussy, momentarily muffling your moans against his mouth.

Your orgasm is getting closer with each thrust of his hips, your body starting to shake, and you can tell Taehyung must be close too, his rhythm getting sloppier. “O-oh please, p-please don’t stop!” is all you can say, your thoughts consumed by your pleasure. You can only think of him, his dick inside you and how good it feels to be full with him. His hand sinks down to your stomach to rub your clit, making your walls clench around him, sending the both of you over the edge. You arch your back in pleasure as he comes into you in a final thrust, your name the only word ever falling from his lips.

The force of your second orgasm renders you speechless, your eyes rolling back in your head in sheer ecstasy. Your mind is in a haze, unable to form coherent thoughts as waves of pleasure roll off of you. Taehyung slumps over you, panting and exhausted, his warm skin against yours, not even taking the time to remove himself from you. You are too drunk on him to care, your senses overwhelmed by him, his warmth, his scent mixed with yours, his hums of bliss muffled in the crook of your neck, his breath making you shudder.

Oh what a sight the two of you must be, panting and entangled together on the bed, a shine of sweat covering you. Your hair is sticking to your face but you have no energy left to move, trapped under him in a comfortable hold. After the pleasure comes the exhaustion, and you let yourself enjoy the comfort of his warmth.

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

You decide it would be a good idea to take a shower, the both of you covered in both sweat and cum. Most of said shower is spent in each other’s arms, neither of you quite ready to leave the other’s hold, sharing kisses under the stream of warm water. During the rest of the day, you don’t leave his side, exploring the house and garden with him, or simply chilling on the couch in his arms. I could get used to that, you think to yourself.

The other hybrids are simply ecstatic when they come home to find Taehyung, Jimin springing into his arms. Dinner finally feels like it should, the dynamic you had become accustomed to back in place. Everyone is laughing, though you don’t fail to catch the jealous glares Taehyung receives during the night. It seems that the smell of sex surrounding you two hasn’t gone unnoticed by the other hybrids, though none of them dare to comment about it. The puzzle is finally complete, your final piece having found his way home. Your chest is filled with warmth, and your cheeks almost hurt from smiling so much. The celebration of Taehyung’s return goes well into the night, and it’s slightly tipsy that you go to sleep between him and Jimin.

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Tae is back!! I hope you liked it! Please tell me what you thought of it!

Thank you @jingabitch​ for helping me once again!

<Previous//Next>

💜

[wangxiangiftexchange]

Lunar New Year Gift for dreamaholicsanonymous!

For @dreamaholicsanonymous <33

*****

all roads, they lead me here

Lan Zhan waited sixteen years for Wei Ying, he can wait for a couple more.

Or at least, that is what he told himself when Wei Ying had packed his things to explore the world.

Life passes by agonizingly slow without Wei Ying at his side. Lan Zhan thought his pining for him was most arduous during those sixteen years, searching and waiting for even a single glimmer of hope that Wei Ying was not gone. But now that he finally had him back—now that Lan Zhan has had the opportunity to bask in his presence once more, it felt even more harrowing not to have Wei Ying at his side. Knowing that he was out there, that he was alive and still Lan Zhan would miss him.

Lan Zhan waited sixteen years for Wei Ying, he can wait for a couple more.

He repeats it like a mantra, one that would keep him from running away from his responsibilities to go and find Wei Ying.

He throws himself into the responsibilities of a sect leader and of a chief cultivator. He takes time to teach the juniors, visit his brother in seclusion, and even goes to tea with Sect Leader Nie. (Even if those moments mostly consist of Nie Huaisang subtly sharing gossip and information with him while Lan Zhan sits and says nothing else.) He does everything he can and reminds himself that love is not about binding someone to him. His father did that with his mother—chained her to him, no matter how much he claimed it was for her own good—and it only ended in pain. Lan Zhan finally had Wei Ying back and he was taking no chance of letting it end that way.

The only indulgence he allowed himself was through correspondence. As it turns out, Lan Sizhui and Wei Ying crossed paths at one point in their travels. And after receiving a collaborative letter from them, Lan Zhan began exchanging letters with Wei Ying. Every missive like a balm to the ache of longing he feels.

Wei Ying writes of his adventures, of the friends he meets—both new and old. His last letter was written in Lanling, having been convinced by SectLeader Jin Ling to come and try his attempt at recreating his mother’s famous Lotus Pork Rib Soup. Wei Ying swears that it tasted similar and that he was amazed at how Jin Ling managed to make it without ever having tasted Jiang Yanli’s cooking.

Someday, he had written. If I find myself at the Cloud Recesses again, I’ll make some for you. It won’t be as good as shijie’s or Jin Ling’s, but it might be close enough.

The missive had only come three days ago, but the paper is already worn. Lan Zhan keeps it on his person at all times, fishing it out of his sleeve to read when he is growing tired or in need of something to lighten his mood. He would trace those very words carefully—longingly, his eyes glazing over with what could be.

In retrospect, what it could have been right now, if only he had not kept his mouth shut. If only Lan Zhan had told him—told him why those sixteen years were agonizing, why A-Yuan’s courtesy name is Sizhui, why he kept asking him to come back to Gusu with him—even just the name of the song. If he had told Wei Ying, perhaps there was a chance he would have stayed. Or even if he did not stay, perhaps he would drop by the Cloud Recesses regularly in between his travels, the way he did at Lotus Pier and Koi Tower.

Lan Zhan at least knew that Wei Ying liked having him at his side. That much was clear when he was faced with a crestfallen Wei Ying asking him if he was going to follow him on to the next adventure and he had to say no, of all things.

Someday, Lan Zhan thinks, betraying his responsibility-bound mantra for a mere second. For just one moment, he thinks, someday.

There is a whisper of a flute amongst the breeze.

Lan Wangji halts in his footsteps, startling the juniors behind him. The wind continues to blow, but there is only silence. Lan Wangji stays put, certain he could not have heard wrong. The sound of a flute is not common in the Lan sect, since most of its members prefer using zithers, but that melody was one of a kind.

“Hanguang-jun?” He does not pay mind to Jingyi, too busy straining his ears for the familiar notes. He hears another whisper before he turns a sharp look on them and they all fall silent. Only more silence follows and Lan Wangji nearly resolves that it was all wishful thinking when the light trill breezes through once more. And this time, it’s clear he’s not the only one who heard it.

“Huh, that sounds like a flute.”

“A flute?”

“That must be Wei-qianbei!”

“How are you so sure it’s him?”

“Come on, no one around here has played a flute since Zewu-jun went into seclusion. Besides, that’s clearly the sound of a dizi.”

“And who do we know that plays a dizi?”

“Only Wei-qianbei, of course!”

Lan Wangji ignores the collective sound of the juniors connecting the dots and wastes no time. He thinks they might not even hear or process that he has left them but he really could not care less. Right now, all he cares about is mounting his sword and following the sound of the dizi. Right now, all he has in his head is Wei Ying.

He follows it all the way to the same mountain they saw each other at last, his heart pounding faster even at just the sight of that red ribbon in Wei Ying’s hair.

Lan Zhan does not run the moment his feet touch the ground. He does not even dare to walk further than where he has landed, just staring at Wei Ying’s figure from a little over two meters away with his heart practically singing his name. Wei Ying is still playing on his flute, unaware that Lan Zhan stood just a little away from him and Lan Zhan wonders how to catch his attention.

There are so many things he wishes to say, so many things he should have said from the start and should not have to wait any longer. They all rush through his head—you’re back, i’ve been waiting for you, i wish we never had to part, i’m so glad you’re here with me, i love you—but nothing seemed right. Lan Zhan had never been good with so many words anyways, so he just says what his heart tells him to:

“Wei Ying.”

The music stops immediately. Wei Wuxian is still for a moment, not even putting his flute down. He turns with a look of disbelief. Lan Zhan’s heart stills with anxiety, wondering if Wei Ying had even meant to come here, and immediately begins planning a mean of escape. But then Wei Ying smiles, he gives Lan Zhan one of the brightest smiles he has ever seen and only takes one moment before running to wind his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, tone just as soft and fond as Lan Zhan’s had been. “I’m back.”

Wei Ying spends a week at the Cloud Recesses.

His first order of business was to recreate the Lotus Pork Rib Soup, as he had promised in his letters. Lan Zhan, having never tasted neither Jiang Yanli’s or SectLeader Jin Ling’s version, really had no way of knowing whether or not it was in any way close to the original. He did, however, like it. It seems Wei Ying took care not to add too much spice in this one, even taking care to use substitutes for the pork.

(“I had to ask Jin Ling for help,” Wei Ying says, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “It took us over a dozen tries, and we did our best to find a substitute for the pork that wouldn’t alter the taste so much—ah, it probably doesn’t taste so good—”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan’s voice cuts through, gentle and fond. “It tastes wonderful.”

Wei Ying had beamed and did not stop even as Lan Zhan finished the bowl right in front of him.)

Second order of business, apparently, had been to let the whole of the Cloud Recesses know he had returned. The moment they had stepped out of the Jingshi—one might say it was selfish, but Lan Zhan had wanted to spend the first moments of Wei Ying’s return alone with him. Which meant taking him straight to the Jingshi, where no one would bother them—Wei Ying had caught sight of Lan Jingyi and immediately began flapping his arms and calling out loudly to get the junior’s attention. Jingyi, of course, does not hesitate to flail back just as eagerly and greet him. (He does pause to compose himself a little in front of Lan Zhan, though.)

This caught the attention of any other junior that had passed and, inevitably, they all flock to Wei Ying. Lan Zhan is glad that he foresaw such events and went ahead with taking Wei Ying to the Jingshi first.

Wei Ying greets them all with enthusiasm, his smile bright with something that Lan Zhan just could not place. He pays attention to all their requests for stories of his adventures and for all their requests of cultivating tips, but his eyes always take a moment to lock with Lan Zhan’s. They’re warm and twinkling with a sense of joy that Lan Zhan had truly missed in the last year.

Even when Lan Qiren had passed by on one of their walks to the bunnies, he had stopped to ask how Wei Ying had been. He was curt and still had to hold himself back from yelling whenever Wei Ying made a remark he deemed inappropriate, but it was the most civil he had ever been when in his presence. It left Wei Ying dealing with whiplash and Lan Zhan with a very woozy Wei Ying.

(“Is your uncle feeling well?” Wei Ying had whispered, eyes wide as he watched Lan Qiren walk away. “I’m pretty sure I just heard him say welcome back. Welcome back. He said it like he didn’t want to throw me out on sight!”

“I suppose even uncle has missed you causing a ruckus here.” Lan Zhan muses, ignoring the subsequent squawks of indignation and disbelief from Wei Ying.)

Wei Ying had even hesitantly asked if they could take a moment to check on Lan Xichen in seclusion. Lan Zhan had agreed, he was off to go and see his brother anyway. And the moment Lan Xichen opened the door to Wei Ying’s small smile, he faced him with a wide one, immediately granting them entrance. Lan Xichen still smiled, albeit far less often, after the death of his sworn brother. But Lan Zhan has not seen his brother smile so much in one visit until Wei Ying had brought out every story he had from Jin Ling of the way he felt loved by his uncle Jin Guangyao.

Lan Zhan had said as much to Wei Ying after they had finally left to go get dinner and leave Lan Xichen to rest. Wei Ying only smiles softly and says, “Sometimes, you just need to be reminded that you weren’t the only one who cared about that person.”

And the final order of business was to reacquaint himself with the Cloud Recesses. Wei Ying lamented that while he had the chance to explore the Cloud Recesses a bit last year, they got pretty busy with the Yin Tiger Seal business and did not really get to see much more than he would have liked. And so Lan Zhan had taken him to every nook and cranny of the Cloud Recesses that he could.

Their last stop of the day—Wei Ying’s final day in the Cloud Recesses—is Caiyi Town.

“Caiyi Town is not part of the Cloud Recesses.”

“Ah, but Lan Zhan I haven’t gone to Caiyi town with you in over a decade! And you promised to show this feeble—”

“Wei Ying is not feeble.”

“—this feeble cultivator around! You’re not going back on a promise, are you, Hanguang-jun?”

Something about the way Wei Ying says his title really just will not allow Lan Zhan to say no to him.

“I remember,” Wei Ying says as they make their return to the Cloud Recesses. It was dark now, the moon gleaming brightly and surrounded by a sea of stars. They are far from Caiyi town now, but the lights still reach their path. They are now walking up to the gates of the Cloud Recesses. “This was the same path I took that night we first met.”

Lan Zhan does not say that it is the only path, instead he chooses to bask in the air of nostalgia Wei Ying was creating and hums.

“Up until that night, I had never crossed swords with anyone  that felt like such a challenge.” Wei Ying laughs.

Lan Zhan chances a look at him. Wei Ying is eyeing the scenery, his eye bright with mirth, enhanced by the light of the night sky above. Lan Zhan feels warm inside just watching a smile bloom on his zhiji’s face.

“It’s funny,” Wei Ying continues. “Back then, I remember saying how rigid the Cloud Recesses was and how if I had the choice, I’d leave and never come back. And yet somehow I always find my way back to here, no matter what path I take.”

Despite himself, Lan Zhan feels his heart sink just a little. The Cloud Recesses was not a place Wei Ying would call home. He had always known that, but it still stings a little to hear from Wei Ying himself.

“Well, I guess it’s true, what they say. No matter how much you change, no matter what path you take, it will always lead you home.”

Lan Zhan halts his footsteps. Wei Ying continues a few paces ahead of him, but pauses when he realizes that Lan Zhan is no longer in step with him. The gates to the Cloud Recesses are already just a few feet ahead, Lan Zhan knows this, but his head feels light and suddenly he cannot comprehend distance.

“Lan Zhan?”

What does Wei Ying mean by that? What change? And did he just say home? Is...is Lan Zhan hearing this right?

“Lan Zhan!”

This time, Wei Ying’s voice is close enough that it shakes Lan Zhan out of his stupor. Wei Ying has a hand on his shoulder, the other in his hair, threading through the strands gently. It is not something he has done before, but Lan Zhan does not mind. In fact, he would rather he continue if not for the turmoil in his head. He stares blankly into Wei Ying’s worried eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

Wei Ying’s eyebrows only knit closer together.

“What?”

“What did you mean...about change and...and home?”

“Ah, well…” Wei Ying suddenly turns sheepish. He takes a step back and Lan Zhan immediately misses his presence in his space. Wei Ying turns away from him, just for a second, to glance at the gates of the Cloud Recesses with an odd smile.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think over the past year, Lan Zhan.” He begins. “I’ve been to many places, met new people. I did some odd jobs here and there, went on various night hunts. So much has happened in a year that you would think I’d have learned so much, that my thoughts would be running wild with what to do next.”

Wei Ying turns back to him and there is a gleam in his eye. Something both familiar and unfamiliar to Lan Zhan.

“Except, my thoughts were only ever of you.”

[wherearemyglassesbro]

ooh ooh!! can you do more characters in your genshin au?

Yeah!! ;-; I’m surprised y’all like it alsjalsksk thank you for humoring me :)

Sadik: Pyro, polearm, *

Yells a lot in his voice lines and despite having a whole polearm, he still uses his hands in combat as well. He switches attacks from a good ol polearm whack to a full on sucker punch. Such a variety

Sadik is the best chef at the finest restaurant in the Pyro region of Natlan

He runs the kitchen with an iron fist, nearly making his chefs cry cause he’s like...A muscular Gordon Ramsay. But he will soften up if he actually sees tears

Because of this discipline, his restraunt has 7 stars...When 5 is usually the best of the best. The food there is above and beyond! And only the richest can really go because it’s $5,000 for one serving of spiced chili slime secretions...it tastes better than it sounds

He has full sleeves of tattoos on both arms which show ingredients, dishes and scenery from all of the regions he studied in. His ink pretty much tells his life story so far. Once he runs out of room on his arms he’ll move on to his back

He does interviews for the newspaper and the reporters are like ‘how do you cook so well?’ And he looks at them and goes ‘I don’t burn it’ wow fantastic insight

He isn’t really into combat but he’s a playable character anyway! We have a (soon to be) playable nun so anything is possible

Abel: Pyro, claymore, *

Another hard hitting character who tends to be on the slow side cause of his weapon but his power move would inflict a lot of damage

Abel is a pro bounty hunter, hired by all kinds of people from the varying regions of Teyvat. He gets paid a lot but his line of work is scaryyyy he takes on like 3 ruin guards at once sometimes. His skin is littered with scars from hilichurl claws, burns and stab wounds. He doesn’t care. He looks super cool

His cabin is tucked away and it’s location is unknown to the general public. Only his brother and sister know but they aren’t allowed to go unless it’s an emergency. Whenever he meets them it has to happen at night within the walls of a city. He doesn’t want criminals or monsters finding out he has siblings

He has a map of each region tattooed somewhere on his hand or arm instead of using a paper map. Fire powers and paper dont go well together

Lilli: Geo, catalyst, Springvale Mondstat

She’s a healer and her attacks consist of meteors flying out of the sky and hitting enemies! Best used when enemies are not right up in her face cause she literally can’t do hand to hand combat at all so that’s her only drawback

She’s still a kid but her brother trains her to be the best she can be! Vash is visionless but he expected to get a Geo vision. He didn’t, his sister did. So he’s helping her get stronger and learn about her power. She is so grateful for him :’)

She goes to school as she should and does all of her work and on her days off, she practices out in the fields with her brother. Vash throws rocks at her and she uses her powers to stop them in midair and hurl them back in his direction. She’d never ever hurt him and if she did she’d literally stop using her vison forever

Her idle voice lines are mostly about her brother or getting home before sundown “Hm...I wonder what my brother is doing right now” “The sun is setting! We better get moving” “Ah...The breeze feels nice tonight...” “Let’s get moving! There’s so much to see out here!”

If she dies from fall damage or something her ‘death’ voice line is “Big brother...Please...Dont forget me...” OUCH

Raj: Geo, longsword, his ship

Super fast and attacks jump from one enemy to the other super quick!! Downside is that it’s hard to focus on one enemy if there’s multiple around you cause his attacks go from enemy to enemy

Raj is the captain and owner of a huge cargo ship. He has a crew of 40 strong fighters, all with visions. He carries cargo back and forth from Liyue to Snezhnaya and Inazuma. He carries minerals, food supplies, textiles, anything that pays well!

His sword looks super old and that’s cause it is! It belonged to his great grandfather and has been passed down allllll the way to him! He wields it proudly even though it needs a bit of fixing up here and there every other month

To pass the time while traveling by sea, he plays his flute and his crew sings songs! It warms his heart to see everyone get along

You could hold up any rock and he’d tell you what it is. He has studied up on everything he sells and I mean...He is a Geo vision holder so he takes rock knowledge seriously

Xiao-Mei: Dendro, archer, Liyue

Fast attacks that will knock enemies over for a few seconds, giving you time to run up to them and land a blow while they’re down

Xiao-Mei is a jewelry maker! She and her mother run a small shop under the docks of Liyue harbor. The placement of the shop is actually beneficial cause as ships dock, the crew will hurry in to buy something for their lovers before seeing them on the streets above! Very slick :)

Xiao-Mei works did metal and makes her own beads for her pieces. She incorporates a lot of shapes or colors from natire, often inspired by flowers like glaze lillies :)

She wears tons of necklaces, rings and bracelets at all times!! If someone likes something she’s wearing, she’ll sell it to them!

Antonio: Hydro, longsword, *

Attacks tend to focus on one enemy at a time and isn’t good for multitasking... Groups of hilichurls are his weakness but he’ll excel during big boss fights since it’s just one to focus attacks on!!

He has really flirty voice lines though jeez sir calm down...

Toni is an entertainer!! A sword fighting entertainer! People place bets on him and his opponent and it’s exhilarating work! Is it legal? Maybe! Maybe not! Everything is technically legal in the woods right?

He flirts with the ladies in the crowd and thinks he’s so slick but his pick up lines are just the worst “I’ve got a hydro vison :) I can make you...hehe...wet” STOP-

He tends to stay within the borders of the hydro region(Fontaine(?)) but will venture to other regions if his ‘career’ requires it!

He isn’t the smartest so he has a lot of moments where you’re like ‘wow...theres not a thought behind those pretty green eyes’ so...I mean he’s kinda a comic relief :)

Michelle: Hydro, catalyst, Raj’s ship

One of her power move things is a water shield!! She can shoot through it but things can’t hit her for like 30 seconds! Then the shield can be deployed again and can be used on other characters on your team

Michelle fishes and cooks for Raj and his crew! She was picked up off a beach, lost and disoriented. She’s made a family out of the ship crew and thinks of Raj as an older brother :)

She is a very talented chef but always makes more than needed so they have a lot of leftovers :0

She buys something from Xiao-Mei’s every time they dock in Liyue :)

[comfy-whumpee]

The Vow

For @whumptober2020 Day 12: Broken. Many kinds of breaking here.

CN: a couple more ‘it’ dehumanisations, though this is Northlight’s perspective so it’s not as strong.

@lonesome--hunter, @iaminamoodymoodtoday, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektricwhump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @paingineering, @whumpywhumper

Northlight raised their head slowly from their arm. The cold metal bars around them were the same. The wind blasting from one side of the tower to another still whistled loudly through old gaps in the stone. The cage still swung, and the pin still tugged on them with every motion.

Nothing had changed, except the boy was not visible in the church. Normally he was up during daylight, cleaning or studying, or doing some meaningless labour such as rearranging the pews. He was absent.

Despite Patience Penrose’s complete apathy towards them, and his greater interest being Irene’s servant rather than anything meaningful, Northlight was fond of the young boy. He’d always had a soft spot for those who played havoc with gender, as they did, and the miller’s son had a clever tongue and watchful eyes. His freckles danced across his face with his expressions, and his commitment to his heavy braid was a kind of consistency Northlight could never bother with. His ambition, if misdirected, was admirable passion.

Most of all, he talked to the ‘demon’ in the cage. He looked properly at Northlight where others averted their eyes. He listened to the stories and answered the questions.

He wasn’t afraid.

Northlight hoped he wasn’t in trouble.

They got their answer, unwanted, when the sun was high in the sky and Irene, along with that man Fitch who was always with her, entered the church and called for him. Patience appeared from the back room, the one that had previously been Irene’s so-called workshop where she’d stored the blood. He looked exhausted, golden-red hairs slipping free of the braid, face flushed and clothes stained brown and red. Northlight watched him move, seeing the exhaustion in his heavy limbs. Poor child. Had he been working all morning in there, cleaning up the blood?

“Word is spreading among the village of a traitor. It seems the demon has its influence in someone, despite our efforts.” Irene’s voice was clipped, displeasure masking the stress. “The heretic will be found, even if they escaped my own notice.”

The boy, who was of course the traitor, spoke without a hint of nerves. “Could it have been someone from another village, Lady Irene? Mariton, perhaps?”

“Mm.” She wasn’t looking at him, instead considering Northlight. “Once the room is cleaned and the bottles replaced, we will perform the ritual again. Until then, I am looking into an answer.”

“My lady?”

She glanced his way. “Is the room clean?”

“Not yet, my lady.”

“Return to work.”

Patience hesitated, his lips parted, a question preparing for launch... Yet, he turned, dipping his head, and disappeared back into the bloodstained room.

Irene’s attention turned to Northlight. She walked forwards, and Fitch recognised her approach and stepped over to the side of the room. This was how they’d done things each time before the altar, and Northlight braced their body against the bars moments before the cage dropped, suddenly, as a result of Mr Fitch’s manipulations of the chain. The heavy snap of the chain going taut scared Northlight each time, as though this would be the time it dropped completely and slammed them into the floor.

Not this time. This time, the swaying resumed, and they caught their breath.

Irene approached the cage, staring disdainfully at him. Fitch moved closer with the solemn face of duty. Whatever she asked, he would give. Fitch, unlike Patience, never looked at Northlight’s face. Only the body.

“It is time for you to answer some questions, demon,” she says, her voice arch and cold like a chill up the back. “You have seen the future. Tell me of it.”

Northlight doesn’t know much about being a time traveller, but there’s one thing they’ve always known: if they give in to this request, ever, they’ll never be able to take it back. If they can tell the future for one person, for one reason, they’ll find other reasons. There will always be other reasons. They’ve never spoke of it, never told the truth about it. Not for Amelie and Matt, not for Rishi, not even in their warning to Patience Penrose. Never.

The first time they met the cult, in 1946, the kidnappers told them the rule had been broken, and they had told the cult what they knew of their future encounters. Northlight can only, only believe that it was a lie. They know this encounter breaks them, ruins them, they gathered that much from the mockeries they were given in 1946... But the future knowledge is not theirs to share. They must have lied.

“How long do I live, demon?” Irene says, betraying her selfishness by making that her second question. Fitch stands aside, of course, uncaring. She saved his life the old-fashioned way and he follows her everywhere. “Answer me. Do I still live in the future? Does the elixir work?”

Northlight won’t tell her the terrible truth. That she lives and breathes on, but looks more like a beautiful corpse than a living creature.

“Rotting, you stand,” they mutter, thinking of the Irene of 2020, her eyes crimson and her skin grey. “A corpse on two legs, like a snowman in the sun. Pitiful.”

Irene, as she is now, smiles on dry lips. “So I do. And do I keep you, or find you again?”

“Your hair is shredded straw bleached from colour. It is so ugly and dry that you tie it up day in, day out.”

“Enough. Answer the question.”

“Nobody knows what to say about your face. It’s like a half-eaten mushroom.” They’re making things up, now, and waiting for her to see the lie. “They can see your skull through your skin. You can barely walk. You’re weak as a dried leaf.”

“You have seen me. I must have found you.”

“When the sky is run ragged with birds of glass,” Northlight says, raising their voice into the storyteller’s lilt. “The seas are black as rainbows and handshakes are a mystery, we meet again, and you beg me for forgiveness.”

That, more than anything, sets her off. “Do not lie to me, demon.”

“I have lied to you more than I have told truths in my thousand-year lifetime.”

She stares at him. Her face is fuller and pinker than they are used to, but the glare is the same. Wicked eyes in an elegant face, and nothing but the desire to hurt, buried in the folds around her eyelids. She stands, swathed in the white silk and red scarf, black ribbons in her beautifully braided hair, and she hates him with such viciousness that she trembles with it.

Northlight takes no pleasure, but they do take relief.

“Free me,” they tell her, hardly expecting it to work, but willing to try. Their words carry, echoing from the high and crumbling roof of her stolen church. She blinks as though they brushed across her own cheek. “Free me now, Irene, and this future may not come to pass.”

She takes a breath. For one absurd moment, they think it worked.

“The future belongs to me, demon,” she says. Her stare sharpens into a smile. “You will answer my questions. Patience!”

Northlight flinches as the name is shouted, and footsteps echo through the chamber as the apprentice comes running. “Lady Irene?” he asks, a touch of flush on his cheeks from hearing her raise her voice for once. There is a little fear there, too, fear of having been caught in his defiance.

“To the altar, Patience. Mr Fitch, if you please.”

Northlight readies their nerves for another bloodletting session, but Mr Fitch does not approach to drag them there. Instead, Irene stays before them, and behind her they watch the two men go to the metal block she had dragged in to serve as her operating table.

Patience looked over to Irene when he arrived there, expecting his next order. Fitch did not. He grabbed the chain looped around the altar.

“Patience!” Northlight shouted, but was too late, as Fitch wrapped the boy with a deft move and slammed him down against the metal.

Northlight pushed their aching body to the front of the cage, causing it to swing nauseatingly in the air as they tried to watch as Fitch pinned Patience to the altar and chained his legs and arms into the position Northlight had already been so many times. The boy’s green eyes were wide and panicked, and he didn’t fight. Instead he looked to Irene, and she stared back, and he said, “Lady Irene?”

Fitch pulled the chains tight, wrists bound above the boy’s head and ankles yanked off the edge of the platform towards the floor. Northlight, even from their distance, could see his chest rising and falling rapidly.

They looked to Irene as she stepped forwards, skirt drifting along a step behind as she moved out of the bell tower and into the church proper. As she moved, the silver dagger slid from her sleeve into her hand.

Deathly quiet fell. Fitch’s hands pinned Patience’s shoulders. Irene circled to the altar’s other side, so that Northlight’s view of the boy was not obstructed. Patience’s breathing and the gentle creaks of the cage’s chain were the only sounds.

“The true use of an apprentice,” Irene said, and her voice was chiselled stone, “is not to teach the elixir. You and I both know, demon, that the mixture is as simple as blood and water.”

Patience’s eyes widened. He looked, once, away from Irene. Northlight met his gaze and nodded slowly. It was true.

“You did impress me, Patience. You created a bond with the creature. You made it care for you, mere moments after meeting it. That gave you value.” She stretched an arm out as she spoke, her dagger catching the light. Patience stopped breathing as it came to rest on his collarbone, a thin woollen shirt offering no protection.

“You wanted it to care for me,” he said, his voice tight. He couldn’t see the blade, so he kept on staring up at her. His wrist twisted in the chain behind Fitch, but it was secure. “You wanted to hurt me for its compliance.”

“Clever child,” Irene murmured. She turned her head and her gaze lanced across the open space to where Northlight sat pressed against the bars, hands around the metal, their eyes wider than Patience’s own. “Tell me of my future with you, demon. Tell me why I beg for your mercy.”

Northlight’s mouth was dry. Twenty-five years with nothing but the rain, and their mouth had never been this dry. The boy, young, still was learning himself, still finding his goals, testing his authorities with schemes in the night, and her knife sat against him as gently as the spring of a trap.

“Tell me,” Irene repeated, and her hand slid down, the blade behind like the tide to the moon, and the shirt parted like water, and the blood rose to stain it red. But the motion didn’t stop, the cut continuing down over the chest, down to the stomach, until Patience jerked and let out a small, scared noise.

Irene’s voice slapped across them. “Speak!”

“You don’t,” Northlight said, “you don’t beg me, I made that up. I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you anything or things would unravel. If you break your own timeline, Irene, you’ll be cursed to a life without sequence. You’ll be like me.”

“A risk I will take,” Irene said, implacable. “Now, tell me. Who do I become?”

It had come, the time they broke. They knew this was the time they broke, they said so, they told the cult and the cult told them back again, it was 1645 and the country was at war with itself and a boy in a derelict church lay tied to the altar as a sacrifice with nobody to help him but a demon in a cage with nothing but words.

“A goddess,” Northlight gasped out, when the knife slid again and Patience keened out a pain he had never felt before. “Don’t hurt him, they, they worship you, you lead a congregation, they kneel before you, they pledge their lives to you, don’t hurt him, you’re, you’re wealthy and adored and untouchable and you capture me over and over to keep feeding your stolen life, please don’t hurt him, please stop.”

The knife stopped. Patience’s chest heaved. Northlight couldn’t breathe anymore.

“You captured me the first time in 1946 and you keep me for twenty-five years and you gain followers like never before, there’s another war and everyone wants the elixir, and then you capture me in 1899 and you torture me because of how this ends and in 2020 you get me again and you experiment on me and that’s, that’s all I know, that’s all I can tell you please, don’t hurt him, please.”

The dagger was wiped on Patience’s shirt. It slipped back into her sleeve. She smiled, a thin sliver of light. “Four hundred years,” she murmured. Abandoning Patience, uncaring for his humanity, she walked back over to Northlight’s cage, where their hands gripped so tightly around the bars that their skin burned.

“Yes,” they said, distantly aware of tears running down their face. This was it, that was it. It was done. The vow, broken. “Please let him go.”

“No,” she said simply, lightly. She reached for their chin, and they held still, letting her look deeply into their eyes. The red seemed brighter. “There is more to learn about you, creature.”