#but yes that tag was purely in jest

[myfictionaldreams]

Subspace // Batboys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel introduces Rhysand and Cassian to Subspace, with your help, of course.

A/N: Please make sure to read the tags before reading. Specifically for the breathplay aspect, as it's nearly to the point of passing out. This is also a reminder that this is a work of fiction and not a way to teach fetishes; if I have described anything wrong, then I apologise; this is just my interpretation of a specific scenario. It is not real. Please stay safe out there if trying different kinks, only practice with those you trust!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, Polyamory, Mates, creampie, size kink, dom/sub undertones, rough sex/oral, restraints, praise kink, masturbation, subspace (!), discussion of safe words, multiple orgasms (!), crying, overstimulation, fingering, breathplay (!!), nearly passing out, cum eating, past emotional abuse (ex), aftercare

Words:6.4 k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Unsure as to who was louder with their orgasmic cries, you or Cassian, as he pumps you full with his seed, the pulse of his cock matching the time of your fluttering cunt. Not only was Cassian’s cum coating your inners, mixing with your slick, but also that of his High Lord, who had thoroughly filled you moments before. A steady creamy puddle had been dripping out of your delicate hole and was saturating the satin bedsheets beneath.

It was a beautiful sight to Cassian as he tried to catch his breath, staring down at where you were both still connected as his firm hands clenched around your thighs where he was currently pressing your legs so far back that your knees and ears almost touched.

You always mused that you thought he looked like a God when he looked like this. Yes, others who had witnessed your mate on the battlefield, in charge of his High Lord's armies and defeating the enemies, was a sight to behold and often had people whispering for the Mother.

You agreed with this astonishment, but when seeing him like this, naked, muscles flexing from the exertion, a sweaty sheen over his body that caused his hair to stick to his face and the pure dominance that radiated from his energy. Cassian was beautiful, as was each of your mates, but with his cock currently still stretching you full, there was no one else on your mind but him.

Cassian’s full mouth twisted into an all-knowing, arrogant smirk as he gazed down at your lust-filled eyes ravishing his body.

“I’m surprised you’re still conscious after that; you must really be in a mood”, he jests with an eyebrow raised, the scar running through it moving with the movement. You’d have laughed and agreed with him if you had the energy. These ‘moods’ that he referred to was the polite way your mates described you being unfathomably horny.

Of course, you wanted your mates every second that there was air in your lungs, but sometimes it would become so overwhelming your skin felt too tight, heart palpations, tremble in your fingers that would settle until one of their bodies was touching yours. Rhysand reassured that it was expected to feel this way whilst newly mated, and you had not one but three mates - possibly a joke played to you by the Cauldron - so it was rational for your body's reactions to be heightened.

That didn’t make it any easier as you fucked each of them to multiple orgasms and only felt sated after reaching a new unconscious state. You were close too, but not close enough as you continued to admire Cassian, from how his beautiful wings stretched out behind him to how his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, moistening them for a moment before he dipped lower.

The kiss was heated and messy, saliva and sweat mixing on your tongues as they stroked together. A flicker of joy warmed in the centre of your chest as you could finally run your fingers through his damp hair, tucking the strands behind his rounded ears so you could see his face without the shadows.

Each of your legs was carefully lowered on either side of his body so that his chest pressed against yours. His powerful arms now rested beside your head so that he could stroke the back of his knuckles against your cheeks.

The affection and love he was projecting were the opposite reactions to moments ago when he was pounding into you like it was his latest mission. After Rhysand had teased and pinned you to the bedpost, making you orgasm until your knees trembled and he had to carry you to the bed where he finally came inside of you, Cassian had chuckled that he wasn’t sure you could handle him with the fucked out expression on your face.

You smirked and instructed him to fuck as hard as possible. Cassian never backed down from a challenge and did just this, leaving you exhausted and dreamy.

“Cauldron, I fucking love you”, Cassian pants into your mouth, the warmth of his breath tickling your neck as he kisses his way to the sensitive area below your ear.

“I love you too, " you sigh in contentment, fingers lowering over his powerful shoulders, causing him to shiver as you neared his sensitive wings.

As his lips hovered over the shell of your pointed ear, he whispered, “Do you really think you can handle my brother's cock?”

You can’t help the giggle that bursts from you, wishing you could stroke Cassian’s ego and say you were too tired for the last of your mates, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

“Oh, I know she can, can’t you, my love?” Azriel's deep voice comes from behind Cassian, who observes you closely. The male hovering over you turned to look at his friend over his shoulder, but Azriel continued to glance at you as his wing twitched, indicating Cass to move.

With one last kiss to your cheek, the warmth and weight of Cassian crawled from your body, meaning the setting sun was now directly beaming into your eyes, causing you to try to bury your face into the pillow beneath your head. “What can I say? I’m greedy for you all”, you insisted with a sigh, smiling to yourself but attempting to keep your voice quiet after seeing the windowless arches to the sun.

You were pretty sure all of Veleris had heard you being fucked by your mates, and every time you remembered that there were no windows in your home and only the sheer curtains flowing in the breeze, you attempted to keep the noise down. This only meant that your mates’ attempts to make you cry out in euphoria improved tenfold.

“Insatiable you are indeed”, growled the voice of the male who had been quietly watching the three of you interact. Rhysand’s usually perfectly combed hair was thoroughly ruffled from and sticking to his temple from where you’d been running your fingers through it earlier in the afternoon. Your eyes connected with his; the usual brightness that gleamed with the violet colour seemed clouded to a near-pitch-black colour of pure night as he admired his mate being thoroughly worshipped on the bed.

You were thankful the three of them were so close, Brothers in a way that close childhood friends were. Their possessive tendencies were always there, growling or baring their teeth at one another when they’d decided it was enough touching. However, most of the time, they were patient, more content with the fact that you were feeling happy and thoroughly pleasured. On the occasions where all three of them touched you simultaneously, it was more fun than you could handle most days due to the manhandling and dominance, but that’s always what made it more fun.

Today was not one of those days, though, as you admired your handsome High Lord as he stroked his thick cock slowly, those dark eyes searching over your body and resting on the puddle that was growing beneath your cunt.

Smiling over at him, Rhysand’s lips twitched into a soft gaze, the speed of his hand increasing as the joy on your face increased his arousal. For a moment, you contemplated trying to crawl over to him, kneel on the floor and offer to keep his cock warm with your mouth, but the growing shadow forming at the end of the excessively large bed captured your focus entirely. 

You’d thought for a moment that Azriel’s shadows had been the object to block out the sun from blinding your vision, but a quick glance showed you that it was his wing, which meant a deep red hue now covered your body from the sun beaming through the membrane of his wing.

An ice-cold breeze circled your ankles, dragging your attention away from Azriel as his shadows formed into pairs of hands, trapping your legs in their spread position. Licking your lips in anticipation, you attempted to sit up and reach for Az, but the shadows grew in size, skimming over your sides and adding pressure to your shoulders until you were lying back down. The pressure remained over your shoulders, and further hands firmly gripped around your wrists so that they were pinned to your side. There was no getting out of the hold you were now captured within, and as your pulse began to pound within your chest, a delicate caress against your cheek fluttered by as the shadows tried to calm away your anxieties.

Azriel watched you closely, from the way your breathing rate increased as anticipation and adrenaline began to pound through your veins to the way more thick white cum dripped out of your cunt with the movements.

The Shadowsinger’s head tilted to the left as he asked, “Do you remember what we discussed earlier?” Azriel could have been perceived as the opposite if Cassian had looked like a God earlier. The setting sun beamed around his body, causing a light aura over his outline, but the front of his body darkened into a shadow so that you couldn’t see his handsome face. Power rolled off of him in waves as he waited for your answer.

Your mouth became suddenly dry, making it difficult to form words, so you simply nodded yes in response.

“Wait, what did you talk about earlier?” Cassian asks as he heaves his bulky body into the spare seat on the opposite side of Rhysand. Your eyes flicked to him for a second, noting the fact that his cock was still very much hard and now glistening in your juices. Cassian spread his legs and took the object of your desire in hand, beginning to stroke slowly, his balls tightening due to the action.

You didn’t answer, not wanting to discuss what had been talked about earlier. Azriel took a step closer to the bed, not taking his eyes off you for a second, as he casually remarked, “You’ll see. "

“You know, it’s not nice to keep secrets from your High Lord, " Rhys says quietly, his eyes flicking to Azriel with the underlying command that laced his words.

“All you need to know is that we have trust between the four of us. I know what I’m doing, and our sweet mate knows what’s doing and has trust. Isn’t that right, Love?”

“Yes, I trust you. All of you, " you say confidently, gripping the sheets beneath you until your knuckles strain.

Azriel nods, moving closer to the bed's end as his shadows pin your body down. “And what else do you need to tell me?” Azriel asks.

“If I want you to stop, I shake my head, say red, or tap twice” As you explained, you made the motion, tapping against the bed and shaking your head no.

“Good girl”, Az praises, his deep tone causing sparks of arousal to heat in your pussy as you attempted to rub your thighs together to ease some of the tension, but the shadows kept your legs separated.

Cassian’s fist stopped moving as he looked between you and Azriel and asked, “Are you sure I don’t need to be worried if we’re talking about safe worlds?” 

“It’s fine”, you answer in place of Az. “I wanted to try this and didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, which you two are making with the silent conversation I know you’re having, so please, just have some trust that this is something that I want, and it’s safe”. Cassian at least had the decency to look embarrassed, having been caught talking to Rhysand mind-to-mind. However, the High Lord just continued to glance between his Shadowsinger and you with uncertainty. 

A flick of coolness strokes down your sternum, and a shadow spirals over your skin. Azriel continues to use the darkness to praise you with subtle touches.

Cass leans further back into the chair until it groans under the strain of his powerful body. “Fine, fine. I’ll shut my big mouth”, he explains with a grin, his fingers tightening around his cock once more.

You were too busy admiring the drip of precum that had formed at the tip of Cass’ cock that you’d not noticed that Azriel was finally on the bed until his ice-cold scarred fingers trailed up the sensitive area of your inner thigh.

“I’ve been counting, you know”, Azriel casually mentions under his breath.

“Counting?” you ask, confused about what he was referring to.

Azriel settles between your knees; with him having moved closer, you could see him in all of his glory, the smooth, perfectly formed muscles over his body, the black swirls of both ink and shadows that ran over his skin and those captivating hazel eyes that seemed even darker than Rhys’.

“How many times you’ve came. I’ve been counting. Even the little one, you didn’t verbalise as Rhys took you from behind. Now, usually, at this point, you’ve had so many. I know you’re only one or two away from passing out, but that’s not our plan for today, is it?”

Even though your cheeks flood with warmth at his truth, you still shake your head, wishing you could reach up for him. Azriel smirked cooly down at you as his hands began to smooth over your stomach, higher until cupping your breasts, his finger and thumb pinching your pebbled nipples, causing you to moan and try and arch into the touch.

“My greedy, greedy girl. Is it not enough that both of my brothers have made you cum all of those times already?”

“I need you” you gasp breathlessly at his rough touches as he continues to play with your already sensitive nipples.

“And I need you”, he says earnestly, and you couldn’t deny the whimper that left your throat at his words. “What do you want first, fingers, mouth or cock?”

“Cock”, you say without a hint of hesitation but are unable to look him in the eye at the use of the crude word, which also earned a hearty laugh from Rhys.

Azriel’s hand's massage further up your body until he's covering you completely, almost in the same position that Cass had been, as his fingers cup around your jaw and hips slot between your thighs.

“My pretty girl can have my cock”, Azriel muses as he lowers his lips to hover just over yours, not closing the gap entirely as you try and lean up to capture his mouth, but he teases by staying an inch away.

You’re soon distracted by your cunt once more, stretching to accommodate your sizeable mate, particularly Azriel. A moment passed when he allowed you to collect your breath before his restraint was released.

He fucked you with long, powerful thrusts that, if you weren’t already being held down to the bed, you probably would have shifted up into the headboard with how hard his hips slammed into yours. Those lips of his that you had been desperate to kiss finally closed the gap as well, absorbing all your begs and moans for more. The restraints around your wrists released but only for a moment as Az eased your hands above your head, holding your crossed-over wrists in one hand as his other squeezed and held onto your hip for stability.

The dominance of his hold was similar to how Cass and Rhys had held you, but there was just something else when it came to Az; whether it be his shadows or the way he paid such close attention to your body, he seemed to be able to bring you right to the edge in no time at all.

Pulling your lips back from his for a second, you gasped, “I-” Your words failed with the need to tell him you want to orgasm, but he already knows.

“Cum for me”, he demands, not slowing with his fucking. Your cunt tightened around his girthy cock, squeezing in flutters until you were squeezing your eyes closed and forgetting to breathe.

The hand on your hip moved to your throat, wrapping around it, pressing slightly but not enough to stop you breathing as he ordered, “Cum again”. 

You weren’t sure whether it was a shadow or the specific way he was rolling his hips, but your clit was being massaged in time with his thrusts, and you were just about ready to explode. One orgasm led to another without a break in between, and with the previous orgasms that you’d already experienced, Azriel was right that something seemed to switch as you reached your level of exhaustion. 

“You look so beautiful when you're cumming on my cock. Want to know how I’ve been keeping count of your orgasms? When you cum, your eyes glaze over for just a second, like you’re so lost in pleasure that you leave your body and then come back, but feeling how tight your cunt is gripping me right now is just a bonus”.

Hearing his words and grunts had you in a state of pure bliss, wishing even more that your arms were free to hold onto some part of his body. Your mouth opens to let out a mewling moan, biting your bottom lip as you try to remain focused on Az.

“I know it’s a lot for you to deal with. Love, do you need to use your words?”

“No, please don’t stop”, you demand, trying to roll your hips to match his movements, but the weight on top of your body pinned that area of you down.

“Good girl. Want to cum together? I know you can do it again for me; I know you’re sensitive, but let’s cum together, my love”, he groans as he finishes his demands as he watches your eyes glaze and then roll back as your cunt begins to squeeze him tightly in bursts as you came again.

Azriel’s wings flared even further, nearly knocking Cassian and Rhys as he came with a heavy grunt and thrust, stilling so that every drop emptied inside of you until there was no room left, and it began to trickle out to join the puddle of your other two mates on the sheets below.

Soft lips caressed your cheek as Az praised you with kind words, “You did so well for me”. He moved lower, exploring your throat, collarbones, sternum, over your belly button and only then did you realise what his plans were. “I’m not done with you yet”.

The shadows release your ankles so that your mate can grip your legs and press your thighs back, baring your thoroughly fucked, pulsing, cum filled cunt to him. Az growls as he delves his tongue deep within, feeling the lingering pulses of your overstimulated walls, the softness that had slightly swollen from the amount of fucking you’d been doing.

Even though you released a guttural scream, back arching as far as you could reach, his warm tongue was a welcome sensation, soothing the ache. Your arousal also burned in your core at the thought of Azriel eating all the different concoctions of seed still spilling out, but he only groaned in pleasure at the taste. 

You were enjoying the feeling of his tongue trying to empty your pussy of juices with a flick and curl of the muscle, but as he moved p to your hypersensitive, swollen and throbbing clit, the fire and burning returned as he circled the nub slowly.

“Ah!” you cry out as your eyes clench close, attempting to close your legs, but he held them firmly open.

“Eyes on me”, Azriel demands, looking up at your face closely to look for signs if it's too much or if you’re doing any sort of sign for him to stop.

“Please!” you beg, eyes widening as you make sure to look at him lying with his face between your legs, his hair sticking up, and once more, your hands itched to stroke through the strands. You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for, but as he continued with the slow circling of your clit with his tongue and the burning subsided and was replaced with the tightening within your pussy, you knew you were going to cum again. The thought frankly scared you with how many you’d had already.

“I know you can do it”, he encourages as his wet tongue returns to your hole as his cold thumb presses your clit. Tears had begun to line your eyes, streaking down your cheeks as you came with a cry, your entire body trembling and muscles aching from the amount of tensing you’d been doing for what seemed like hours now.

Your hearing was turning fuzzy, so when Rhys deeply groaned as he came over his chest from watching you orgasm so hard, it sounded like he was in another room, almost like cotton wool had been forced into your ears.

“It’s too much, " you hiccup, wishing you could wipe away the tears wetting the pillow beneath your head.

Azriel tried to sound as sympathetic as possible as he looked up at you, kissing your thigh that was once more being held back by shadows, “I know, my love, but only a few more times. You can do it”. You cry out once more as he begins to lower his face back to your pussy but pauses just as two of his fingers circle your hole. “Remember what we talked about?” Nodding your head in response whilst maintaining eye contact, he continued, “You’re in control of the situation, understand?”

“Yes, I understand”, you utter whilst taking a deep breath, trying to calm your cries. His two fingers enter you slowly at first, easing and out before a third one joins. Usually, it would take you some time to adjust to the size of his fingers, but after the sizeable cocks, you didn’t need any prep for the three fingers.

Az moved them with speed, curling to stroke against that beautiful spot that had stars beaming in your eyesight which only heightened as his lips sealed around your already overstimulated clit, and he sucked. He knew exactly what he was doing, and with each orgasm that came, the response was more exaggerated from you, and the time between them decreased. You were pretty sure if he continued, you would just be having one single orgasm that went on and on until you inevitably passed out.

Just when you're tensing all over, cunt tightening around his three fingers, did he move in with the next and final step of his plan. Azriel's icey, scarred hand wrapped around your nose and mouth. It was a relief at first to have something cool against your hot skin, but as you tried to suck in a breath as your orgasm neared closer, the panic set in.

It was what you had hoped for, to have the control taken away, but knowing that if you tapped your fingers or shook your head underneath his palm, it would stop. The thing was, you were already beginning to feel somewhat loopy from the orgasms that you didn’t want it to stop, which was why Azriel was doing this; he knew your body down the tiniest detail, especially with his shadows whispering away in his ear, counting your heartbeat.

The adrenaline only seemed to increase further as panic was doubling as you attempted to pull against the shadows around your wrists and thighs. The overwhelming pleasure between your lungs was the only thing that burned more than the need to breathe. You’re unsure what you need more, to cum or breath, but you’re only given one option, just as dark spots replaced the stars in your vision as you came around his fingers with an incredible squeeze of your walls around the digits.

Musky, sweated scented air filled your lungs desperately as his hand now cupped your cheek, supporting you as you tried to regain your full consciousness, but as Azriel continued to finger you, now at a slower pace, all you could think about was him and nothing more.

“That’s it- nice deep breaths for me. You’re doing so well for me. Did that feel good?” Az asks.

“Ye-Yes!” you stutter while trying to catch your breath. Your head lolls to one side while you nuzzle into his palm. Your eyes are entirely gazed at and unfocused, looking down at your mate.

“Good”, is all he says as he returns to sucking your clit and covering your mouth and nose again.

This time he had to tap your face a few times after you came to rouse you properly, but you were still greedily sucking air without an issue. However, now, Cassian and Rhys had stood, towering over the sides of the beds with concern, but arousal still evident across their beautiful faces.

“That’s a good girl. How do you feel?” Azriel asks, ignoring the two other males.

“Goo-Good. Good, " you say repeatedly, having only the energy and mental capacity to repeat the same words repeatedly.

You’re starting to feel a tingling sensation throughout your limbs, the edges of your sight blurring completely as your thoughts remain on how good you felt. Az watched you so closely that you weren’t sure he was blinking. “I know I can get you to cum one more time for me”.

However, before you can nod, you’re both interrupted by Rhysand growling, “Azriel. She’s had enough”.

“No, she hasn’t. I know she hasn’t. Just trust me. You can do this, can’t you, Love?” Azriel asks you.

Making sure to look him in the eye, you nod your head and say, “Yes”. Those special fingers of his begin curling with great speed once more as his tongue circles your throbbing clit.

You’re breathing heavily, screaming constantly until the air is cut off once more. Your lungs burn, your head is spinning, and all you can think of is cumming, begging silently to cum for Azriel, to be good for him, that you could do this, you could cum and show your other mates that Azriel was right.

As your orgasm rushes through you, your entire body does the opposite as it had been before. Instead of tensing, it went completely limp, eyes rolling back as your cunt continued to pulse and squeeze around his digits. When your eyes opened again, Azriel was half hovering above you, his fingers carefully easing out of your cunt, but you could hardly feel it as he tapped your cheeks a few times to bring you around more.

“I-I-I-I-I”, you mumbled incoherently as the shadows dispersed from your body entirely so you were no longer restrained.

“Shhh, you’re ok. You’re safe, Love, you’re ok”, Azriel whispers carefully as he begins to massage areas of your body to help you feel more, but it doesn’t help the complete and utter bliss settled through your mind and soul. It felt as if you were floating, and you never wanted to come back down again.

Azriel gave silent instructions to Rhysand, who shared these with Cassian as they stood beside the side of the bed, unsure if they should be ripping Azriel apart or helping their mate.

“Azriel”, Cassian warns, his entire body stiff and muscles flexing as he watches you blink heavily, body twitching with uncontrollable movements. Even though you were sucking in deep breaths, it seemed like you couldn’t catch your breath again.

“She’s fine, aren’t you?” Azriel asks, stroking away the flowing tears that you hadn’t noticed had started again down your cheeks.

“Ye-Ye-Yes. Yes, Yes”, you say, nodding tiredly.

“Are you sure?” Cass whispers, kneeling on the side of the bed and reaching for your hand, noticing that you couldn’t even squeeze his hand back as he held it carefully.

“Just give her some time; her head is all over the place at the moment, but it’s exactly where she wanted to be”, the Shadowsinger explained under his breath, still watching you very closely.

“Cu-Cum, cum”, you mutter, words still somewhat muffled from how heavy your tongue felt in your mouth.

“What’s that,  Love?” Azriel asks, “You want to cum again?”

“Y-Yes”, you nod slowly, still staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Azriel smiles down at you. “So good for me. I think you’ve had enough for today. Just take some slow, deep breaths for me” You follow his instructions, taking slow, deep breaths until you don’t feel breathless anymore. As exhaustion begins to take over, your eyes close, but those scarred hands tap gently against your cheek to keep them open; you can’t even feel the temperature of his cold hands.

“I need you to keep your eyes on me. I don’t want you to fall asleep in this headspace, okay? Just like we talked about. "

“Ok”, you say just once, looking up at him but not seeing at all.

“What headspace? Did you break my mate, Azriel?” Rhysand snarls as he, too, kneels on the side of the bed, his wings extended to match his Brothers. The darkness of night crawls from his tense shoulders as he reaches forward to run a hand over the arm and leg closest to him.

“She’s not broken; she’s just floating. Isn’t that right?” You nod, looking only at Azriel. Cass sighs through his nose, having not had the answers given to him right away, as Az continues to give only half sentences. “I’ll explain in a minute, but I just need you to be there for her as she properly comes back”.

It takes several moments of tense massaging and silent raging for the boys as they watch you tiredly blink, the unfocused gaze and dreamy stare slowly hardening until you’re actually looking at your surroundings, shivering at the coolness of Azriel’s hands as they travel down your ribs.

Floating was the only way you could describe the experience like you had miraculously grown your own pain of Iillyrian wings and were flying through the clouds without care. Even the soft sheets beneath you couldn’t be felt when you were in that high headspace. Not even your name could be drawn out of you if asked, but slowly, with the help of your mate's touches and scents and Rhysand caressing the wall in your mind, you finally topple back to reality.

Eyes flicking between your three mates, two of which looked like they were bracing for war,  you finally gave a tentative smile, feeling your cheeks warming back up from their intense gazes. 

“There’s my girl”, Cass praises as he squises your wrist gently.

“Hey”, you whisper croakily, throat aching from all the screaming you’d been doing.

Azriel lowers himself, kissing your lips carefully once before maintaining intense eye contact. At this close proximity, you can see the hints of green throughout his hazel eyes. “You’re safe with us; you know that, right?”

“Yes, I know. I feel safe”, you reassure him, trying to lift your hand to caress his cheeks, but your arms are still too quick.

“Good, we’re going to bath together and clean you up. Then I think we need to explain to these two what’s happened”, Azriel explained as you nodded in understanding and closed your eyes, but a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose had you opening them again as his gaze softened, “I still need you to keep your eyes open. I don’t think you’re completely back yet, so no sleeping just yet.”

Before you can nod in understanding, two arms are carefully shifting beneath your body. One hook is under your knees, and the other supports your back as Rhysand lifts you to his chest, your head carefully laying across his shoulder as he walks the two of you into the bathing room.

Nuzzling into his warmth, he rested the two of you in the vast-sized bath and began to run the water hot, letting it slowly creep up your body as you sat between his muscular legs. Rhys held you close, ensuring that your eyes remained open and on his. The violet colour returned to the brightness you were used to as he continued to massage your limbs back to life.

Splashing from behind you indicates that the other two had joined in the water as they both hissed at the heat soaking into their muscles. Az takes your legs into his lap, massaging carefully over your calves as Cass takes hold of a hand, kissing the back of it and linking your fingers together.

Everyone’s attention then turns to Azriel as he begins to explain. “It’s called subspace”.

“Sub? Space?” Cassian repeats slowly, as if trying to sound out the new phrase but is entirely unsure.

“Yes”, continued Az, “It’s related to hormones and an emotional state where an individual becomes so lost within the moment, almost like a trance, that they aren’t able to make decisions for themselves and experience side effects like feeling the sensation that they are floating or euphoric. Similar to an out-of-body experience or a high. It can come from a physical response like shown today or an emotional response depending on how submissive the individual is”.

Rhysand seemed to tense further after the explanation, so you tried to lean into his body more as he began to talk. “Right, ok.  So, this is something you’ve experienced before?”  he asks, tilting his head down to look at you.

“Yes”, you say stoically, now not looking him in the eye as your fingers curl and grip Cassian, as the sensations return to you. “You know the male that I was with years before I met any of you? He um- He,” you were struggling to find the correct phases to say as you could feel the tension suddenly thick in the air at the mention of your previous lover.

Thankfully, Azriel continued the explanation for you, but you didn’t miss the stern tone of his voice. “With subspace, it’s important for the one experiencing it to have some sort of support. As I’ve explained, it’s to consent or look after yourself when going through a high like this. What my love is trying to explain is that this fucker used to leave her like how she was and either go drinking or fall asleep. She’d be on her own and-” Azriel blows out a long, steady breath as he closes his eyes, the shadows beginning to shake around him with the increase of his anger.

Sitting up further in Rhys’ lap, you continued the discussion. “I like getting to the point of being in subspace. It feels so freeing, and I trust you all to look after me; that’s why I spoke to Az first, just to make sure that you’d even want to try it, and I know it can look scary. But with my previous partner, he would leave me by myself, and I’d fall asleep, and when I woke up, I would have this impending doom sensation. I’ve read that it still has something to do with hormones. Still, I would feel so low and depressed without the support, almost like I was going to die with how low I felt. Still, after a few days, I would feel back to normal”.

You wanted to be open with them all, but seeing them all holding back some restraint with the anger they were experiencing, you knew you needed to pull them back before they went on the hunt.

“Please, for the love of the Mother, tell me this fuckers name”, Cassian demands lowly. It was your only secret, the name of the male you’d once been with and had been emotionally scarred from. You were unsure as to why, whether it be fear or to refrain from violence, but you had never told any of them the name.

Shaking your head no, you collapse further into Rhys, which causes some tension to leave his body as he holds you close with an arm around your waist and his lips caressing the back of your head.

“You know, I could just slip into your mind and find out”, Rhyand whispers, stating something that both Cass and Az were wondering.

“Yes, you could, but you won’t, " you confidently say. It was the one wish you had made him promise upon becoming mate- no creeping through your mind, no matter what. Rhys kisses your head again to confirm that he wouldn’t do this.

“So this subspace, " Cassian interrupts the anger by changing the subject to something you were thankful for. Are you sure it feels good? I thought you had passed out earlier, which frightened me, to be truthful with you. "

Your fingers squeeze his once more as you look over at him and give him a reassuring smile, “It feels amazing and a little addicting to feel like that and like I said, I trust the three of you more than anyone. Usually, it doesn’t take long for me to fall into subspace, but it’s been a while; I think I’ve put some barriers up in my mind to stop going to that place because of my past”.

“And luckily for her, I’ve seen this sort of thing before”, Azriel explains.

“So how do we make sure she doesn’t feel awful like she did with that fucker?” Cass asks with a subtle growl.

“Aftercare”, Az explains with a shrug of his shoulders, “Exactly like you have been doing already. Making sure she stays awake and feels safe, food and water helps. Talking to her, holding her, and warm baths are always good”.

You gently smile with Azriel as he lists what you cherish most about aftercare, but Cassian’s next question causes you to nearly bite your tongue.

“And the choking? To the point where she nearly passed out. Was that part of the subspace, too?”

Azriel smirks cockily as you giggle and hide your face in Rhys’ chest. “No, she just wanted to try that out. It’s called breathplay. It’s not for everyone; I’ve had some experience with it. Can’t just go around choking people until they pass out like a brute, Cass”.

The water sways as your mate shoves Az in the shoulder.

The chest you’re learning on begins to vibrate as Rhys muses, “Guess even after 500 years of living, I still have lots to learn”. You hum in response, exhaustion fully settling into your body now as you wish to close your eyes so you look over at Az,

“Can I sleep yet?”

“Not yet. I need you to eat and drink something first. Stay here; I’ll get you something, " he explains as he kisses your knee, lowers your feet into Cass’s lap, and climbs out of the bath. You sigh into the embrace of your other mates.

[blairwaldcrf]

WIP Wednesday

i'm late so I'm taking the open tag of @nontoxic-writes @kiwiana-writes, sorry!

1. Chapter 2 of Nocturno (firstprince au)

"Us elder sisters like to meddle, especially when we see opportunities to prove ourselves right."

Henry can't help but laugh at Bea’s misguided positivity, blindly viewing things more idyllic out of hope for his love life than they could ever be in actuality. "So your true motivation is to determine he isn't straight?"

"I think it would be pertinent information to have before a marriage, yes." She primly responds, playfully annoyed he dared laugh at her genius.

"Does it matter that I simply don't believe you?"

"Not in the slightest."

He shakes his head and ignores her grin. When he considers how miniscule the chance is that Mr. Claremont-Diaz is anything more than supportive of those not heterosexual despite being glaringly so himself, he gives in. There's a good chance the ever-protective Bea won't deem her suitor worthy of the information this early to begin with. "I suppose I can trust your judgment."

"With pure intentions?" She asks in jest despite knowing the real answer.

He haughtily turns back to his book with faux anger, although there is a part of him he doesn't want to entertain that does feel irritated at someone else chasing the man. "Not remotely. I simply think it will be fun to witness you being wrong for once."

2. Chapter 5 of Set it Up (dair au)

But Dan's sitting here, letting her bark orders at him while only giving back minimal snark, and she didn't bully him into being here. There's no bribe, no ulterior motive, not even suggestions that they shirk the duty onto interns. He's just... helping. Like they're friends.

It makes her feel restless with some feeling she can't name, so she weaponizes the restlessness into irritation and snaps. "Why do you have an insufferable need to help people?"

Dan startles a bit, then watches her carefully only to end his search with a casual shrug and small smirk. "How else am I going to take the moral high ground?"

tagging @takaraphoenix @terrainofheartfelt @strideofpride @hydesjackiespuddinpop @laufire and whoever else!

[binniesthighs]

hi!! i rly liked your first writing it was so cute and you described jisung so well too! can i request a friends to lovers with han? kinda slow burn like they're really good friends but jisung gets jealous of her close friend and reader secretly likes him too but she doesnt wanna ruin the things between them so... one day they get into a fight and they end up making out😳 bc shes like "wtf we're friends" smut is ok but just a make out would be fine too the details r up to u💗

why yes you can! Thank you for requesting hehe you are my first ask ever  ♡ I hope that you like it, here’s some best friend ‘sungie for ya :)   

all yours | reader x jisung |

Paring: self-insert, female reader x han jisung

Genre: fluff ‘n a lil bit of smut & angst  

Tags: student!reader, bestfriend!jisung, lab partner!felix (haha), friends to lovers, mutual pining, best friend au, college au, jealousy, slow-ish burn, mentions of exams, some yelling, reader is secretly whipped for jisung (and jisung for the reader), explicit language, marking, that good good makin’ out

Word count: 2.4k

“Hey!”

The little ball of paper that you had crinkled up bounced off Jisung’s arm with a soft pat.

“What happened to studying together? You said that you were gonna quiz me.”

Jisung’s eyes popped up from his phone screen looking a little bewildered. “Sorry, I just...got a little distracted.

“Distracted? Looking at what?”

“Oh, nothing.” He placed his phone down, clicking it off.

“Is “nothing” code for some girl’s Instagram?” You dished him out a teasing smirk. “I think you forget that I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.”

Jisung shuffled the papers in front of him pretending like he had something to do. “Psh. I was not.”

“--Does she go to school here?”

“I told you, I said no.” He furrowed his brow trying to look as serious as possible, but that was nearly impossible for someone as naturally adorable as him. “Why are you drilling me? Aren’t you supposed to be doing some work right now?”

“~So are you~” You teasingly sang back to him, giving him a kick under the table just for good measure.

Jisung threw your balled up paper ball back to you. “Let’s just get back to what we were doing so we can leave. I don’t wanna end up like him.”

He nodded over to the end of your table where a student had fallen asleep mid-chapter. His nose twitched and he snorted a little bit. You knew exactly what Jisung meant, you didn’t want to be at the library at 11pm on a Tuesday either; it was your better judgement that told you.

“Can we get food after this?” Jisung asked after approximately five minutes of “working.”

“Sounds good to me.” You quipped, barely allowing your eyes to leave your computer screen. You found that you always had to try you best to let him not distract you. He was really good at that.

You slid a stack of index cards in front of him. “Ask me these? I’m having a hard time getting the Latin names down...if you’re not busy?”

“Nope!” He piped, and shoved his notebook away.

“Okay!” He said with determination and a little bounce. He fixed his oversized hoodie before starting, looking adorably lost in the fabric.

He asked you the first question, but it barely met your ears. There you were, getting distracted by him again.

screw you Han Jisung, you thought to yourself.

☆。*。☆。

“I just don’t understand how you make sense of all that crap, I could never be a science major like you are.”

“--And I could never understand production like you do.”

“And this is why we work.” Jisung grinned with smiling eyes while he opened the library door for you. “I’m starving, I can’t stop thinking about--”

“--Y/n??” A voice called from behind the two of you.

The two of you whipped your heads back to see a loveable looking blonde and freckled boy bounding to catch up with you. It was Felix, your lab partner from zoology. The two of you were nothing more than classroom friends, but his friendly kindness was always something that brightened up your terrible 9 am lab.

“Felix!” You beamed, holding the door so it wouldn’t close on him. “Are you here studying for the exam as well?”

“Oh yeah, I just...my brain couldn’t take it any more,” He sarcastically mimed his head pains, “I just need to get some sleep now.”

“I just don’t get how they expect us to know all of those phyla like its nothing.”

“I know right?’ He chuckled.

Next to you, Jisung silently poked at the elevator button to go down.

“Is it alright if I head down with you guys?”

“Of course!” You motioned him in.

Once the doors had closed, the three of you found a different corner of the small box to plant yourselves in.

“shit-sorry, Felix, I didn’t introduce you, this is Jisung.”

“Hi!” Felix shone, and Jisung gave him a curt nod back.

Felix waved to two of you goodbye, leaving you in the nighttime snow. You noticed that as Felix walked away he had a little bounce to his step; and you couldn’t help but crack a little smile.

“Our usual?” Jisung asked you with a little edge to his voice.

You linked your arm around his, letting out a little shrill sound when the fabric of your two coat sleeves met. “Sounds good to me!” You nuzzled up into him while both of your bodies’ heat intermingled.

The two of you walked on under the streetlights which illuminated the falling flakes in streams of light. You never loosened your grip, as had become your habit lately when the two of you walked around. Jisung never seemed to mind; the two of you had been mistaken for a couple more than enough times thanks to it. When it did happen, it didn’t phase you at all. Being close to Jisung was like second nature to you.

The whole walk over Jisung never uttered a word, which was uncharacteristic of his usual boisterous self.

“Is everything okay?”

He sniffled, “Yeah, I think I just got kinda tired out of nowhere.”

“Ah.” You mouthed, and squeezed his arm a little harder.

After a moment’s silence, he somberly announced, “If you’re in the same class as him, maybe you should study with him.”

“Huh.” You tsked. “Yeah, I mean I never thought about that before...I guess that could do me some good.”

You looked slightly up to him: a product of him being slightly taller than you. His brown eyes remained stoic, and you couldn’t figure out why. You hated it when he wouldn’t tell you what was wrong, but he was also stubborn at letting up.

“But thank you for helping me tonight! You know that I reeealy appreciate it.” You turned your tone as cutesy as you could--Jisung hated it, but you knew that it could bring a smile to his face.

His gaze softened a bit. “Anytime. You’d do the same for me.”

☆。*。☆。

Jisung rested his head on your shoulder on the bus ride home with his phone weakly held in his hand. One more bump in the road and you knew that it would go flying so you carefully took it into your own lap where it would be safe. You wouldn’t dare moving an inch because you had a feeling that he had closed his eyes. Time had slipped past 1am, and you had to keep fighting yawns yourself. The bus driver had been blasting the heat, so it wasn’t hard at all for you to feel cozy.

You glanced down at his open hand in his lap. It looked exactly like he was beckoning for you to scoop it up in your own. You wondered what what happen if you did. What would he think of it? Would he think anything of it? You had held hands before, but every time you had it had been under purely platonic pretenses. If you just grabbed it now, what would the pretenses be then? The two of you cozied up on a bus: that was something that couples did.

You shut your eyes closed tightly and tried your best to banish all the thoughts clouding your head.

Jisung’s hand twitched, looking even more inviting.

screw you Han Jisung.

☆。*。☆。

[7:14pm]

jisung: you want to come over? Changbin is cooking and i don’t wanna eat whatever he’s making alone

[7:31pm]

me: sorry, I’m studying with Felix at the library, I think that we are gonna be here late. It’s all the Latin, I’m drowning in the Latin, Sung.

I’m sorry.

see you Friday once I’m out of this hell?

[7:34pm]

jisung: see you friday.

☆。*。☆。

You pounded on the door to Jisung’s apartment with your phone in hand, the white screen showing you the number that you had worked so hard for.

“Open the door!” You called giddily. “Jisung! I know that you’re in here, we need to celebrate! ~I can treat youuu~”

Just as you were about to knock again, the door swung open, revealing a wet haired Jisung in his grey sweats and tee. His brown strands of hair were scattered around his head while he rubbed at them with a towel.

“Shit! Can’t I shower?” He jested.

It took all your will power not to ogle him more. He looked devastatingly handsome, but you swallowed down how utterly flustered he had made you.

You cleared your throat, “Uh...sorry...” then remembered your phone in your hand. “I got a 96! Can you believe it! I’m even surprised too, when I was taking the test I just got so nervous...”

“All that studying paid off huh?” He cockily rose an eyebrow. “You can go ahead and thank me now, without my help...” He shrugged with a grin.

You invited yourself in and threw your bag down at the door like you usually did.

“Thank youuu” You sung. “Oh! And studying with Felix really paid off too.” You took off your shoes, thinking of how nice it had been to finally study with someone who knew your class topics. Not that Jisung wasn’t helpful, but you and Felix were on the same page. “He knew it all way more than I did, so he was super helpful. I forgot to text him--”

Jisung closed the door behind you with a slam that made you jump. He moved away from you, not meeting your eyes. The air around the two of you suddenly became thick with something that did not feel as excited as you just were.

“...do you wanna maybe watch a movie?” You moved closer. “Or we could get some deliv--”

“--Why even bother coming over here?” Jisung suddenly huffed.

“What?”

Jisung’s words flew out of his mouth sharply, “If he was so helpful? What are you doing here, huh?”

“Jisung, I don’t understand...” Your heartbeat quickened in your chest and you felt anxiety swell there as well. Jisung never spoke to you like this. He never sounded like this.

He growled out a little sound in frustration. “I-I just...can’t believe you--”

“--Me? Jisung, what did I do?” You threw your arms up, genuinely confused.

He ran his fingertips over his temples and let out a deep exhale. “Y/n, don’t pretend like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your temper started to become seething and you felt your ears get hot. “Tell me Jisung. Tell me what I did. And while you’re at it, what has been up with you these past few days? Being short with me, and distant, yeah-I’ve noticed...what are you doing??”

Jisung heaved breaths in and out of his chest, then ran a hand through his hair. He still couldn’t meet your eyes.

For a moment, a flash of panic surged in your head, making your heart ache with an unexpected pain. You truly didn’t know what he had meant, and if you had made a mistake, you knew it could mean loosing him. God, that was the last thing in the world you wanted. It always was.

“If I did something wrong tell me because clearly I don’t know!!” You yelled back at him, straining your throat.

He walked up to you, then grabbed your shoulders with a firm grip. Finally, you saw his eyes, brown and soft, holding a type of pain that you hadn’t seen in him before.

screw you, Han Jisung.

“Jisung, I--”

You were shoved by the shoulders in milliseconds to the door behind you, the impact nearly knocking the wind out of you. You gasped in your surprise, but your mouth was immediately shut by Jisung ramming his lips into yours. His hands needily took your face into his palms with his mouth blazing with hunger for you.

It took you a moment to realize what had just happened and steady yourself after being so startled. His lips were so soft and warm, your brain had a hard time recognizing that he was really doing this. His haste made no indication of stopping so you let yourself do what you had wanted to do for years: you kissed him back with everything that you had.

As soon as you did so, he let out little desperate moans between your lips in response. You let your arms wrap around his back and he fell into them just right. Naturally you took one of your hands to the back of his head and tangled up your fingers in his hair. God, it all felt so good. Jisung snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you into him with force, crashing your hips together.

The two of you clumsily made your way to the couch where he threw you down and crawled over top of you just as fast. He moved to your neck then traversed around your skin, sending shivers all through your body. Your hands eagerly found his back where you dug into him, wanting to be impossibly close. To your side, he carefully took your hand in his, weaving all of your fingers together.

Jisung pressed down into you and began to suck at your neck without holding himself back. It was such an intense feeling that couldn’t help but moan out something you didn’t know you could. You felt his mouth turn into a grin on your skin while he continued. It stung a little when he removed his lips, but he gently kissed each mark as if he was soothing it once he was done. He stopped to admire the little array of purple bruises he had made.  

“I want you all to myself.”  Jisung’s voice was hoarse, but still honey-covered in desire.

“What are we doing?” You asked him in breathless disbelief.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He whispered, and appeared to calm his breaths. “I don’t care.”

"You don’t?”

“Why should I?” He cocked his head and used his free hand to caress your face.

“--That this could change things between us?”

“You don’t want it too?” He looked a little confused.

You felt a warmth rush to your cheeks.  “--No! I do, I do...trust me.”

“Then can I kiss you some more?” Jisung grinned down at you as loving as he always had, but this time it meant something slightly different.

“...please.”

He lowered back onto you, connecting your lips once more. Jisung’s tongue languidly smoothed onto yours and you already felt intoxicated by the feeling. You tightened your fingers around his.

I’ve always been yours.

[heliophiledaydreamer]

Jared Leto And The Cult Discourse BS

This youtuber falsely implied that the highest package on camp Mars is and I quote "probably when you get to sleep next to Jared Leto himself" and then used it as a perfectly suited segue to promote the sponsor of his video, a mattress company! THIS IS BEYOND APPALING! ! _ I'm just failing to understand, how do people actually believe Leto has a "cult" after hearing any of these videos, ARE THEY JUST GOING BY THE TITLE?! nothing makes sense or adds up as actual true information, how is that condemning in any way?! Aren't people aware of music festivals and bands that take their fans on cruises like BON JOVI, THE BACKSTREET BOYS and ILLENIUM and more! https://backstreetboys.fandom.com/wiki/Backstreet_Boys_Cruise#:~:text=Backstreet%20Boys%20Cruise%20is%20a,not%20seen%20during%20most%20tours https://cruises.soulatsea.com/jon-bon-jovi-cruise/

The photos with the fans wearing all white was done in jest, very obvious! and the photos are actually shared on the band's instagram, it is not a secret or leaked photos, everyone on there had their phone, it wasn't a secret event! a quick search using the band's tag on instagram will show a lot of people having a fun day! wearing matching outfits or one color isn't an indicator that people are attending a cult event!! and by just using very simple logic and critical thinking any one would figure that an actual cult wont be sharing the photos with the public! plus the usage of the phrase "yes this is a cult" was a thing since the begging of the band, used as hyperbole to describe the band's fanbase! Is the term "cult following" any thing but a hyperbole?! if I said that a movie has a cult following, does that mean people who love the movie are worshiping the director?! or using the script as a religious text! LOL

By those ridiculous assumptions if 30STM is a cult then BTS is a cult!! But what's a cult?! A cult separates you from your loved ones if they don't share the same interest, they have bizarre rules and in force them on their members, they hold interrogations if they suspect that someone isn't following the rules, they have inner hierarchy and so on! You would think all of that is very obvious, but with the existence of gossip sites and channels on youtube every thing is sensationalised to grab the attention of Gen Z! A generation that grow accustomed to getting the news and information from the internet and relying on wikipedia, gossip channels and conspiracy theorists, where no one is held accountable or has any reputation or integrity to care about, as most of them are anonymous.

NGL, I wish Leto was litigious, cause what's happening with him is pure defamation, people don't give half of that crap to actors and musicians that are members of actual cults! No one bothers or cares! It's like people are envious of him being the lead of a movie?! people who know nothing about 30 seconds to Mars or his film and music careers! They think he's privileged some how! they don't know he has been in the business for 30 YEARS And because of the wording of such disgusting youtubers, people are now saying it's a s*x cult! Sh*t is snowballing and needs to be stopped!

[kookiecrumb]

Oou what about a jimin horror au where he's the evil spirit and the oc is exploring the haunted place and they yk 😅

Okay I'm going to be honest with you I had no idea how this fic would go because I've never written such a concept, but when I put it into a context that I could work with, it came together nicely. I regret not being able to write a proper smut for this one, but I would be willing to come back to it in the future and properly resolve it. Only if you beg, dear reader.

I listened exclusively to smooth jazz and Duke Ellington whilst writing this. Please enjoy it!

Insight into characterizing Jimin: Jimin doesn't like to be lonely, so this spirit would have been very upset if he were alone. Instead I put him in a more social setting.

-

pjm|| The Temptor,,

a kookiecrumb.

wc: 2.4K

warnings: de*th as a main theme, talk of de*th, implied future smut, marijuana smoking, strong language, dubcon if you squint, alcohol consumption, use of the word wh*re

tags: ghost/evil spirit!jimin x mortician's daughter!oc

partially betaed* (if you betaed this work please pm me so I can credit you, I don't have your tumblr)

-

It was October 31st of the 21st year of the 21st century and the winds were a-blowin' through the shaking trees. Halloween was here. 

Being a mortician's daughter, Halloween was the time of year where you'd hesitate before clocking in for the night shift. In the fall, it was typical for there to be a lingering fog flowing through the graveyard, but tonight the fog was particularly heavy, and the moonlight illumined the faces of the cool gray headstones. 

You gripped the railing of the stairs leading to the mortuary and stepped on up. With a sturdy tug, you smacked the door behind you shut and immediately began unwrapping your coats, scarves, and such. 

"Darlaaa~!" you sang. "Darlaaa~!!" Once you had slipped off your wet boots, you were left with a pair of warm, fuzzy socks. 

Darla came in through a door on the left, holding a tray of freshly baked cookies. She wore her hair in blonde curls which swept over her shoulders as she walked, in the same style she had worn them for forty years."Yes, yes, I hear you, girl!"  

She set the tray down on the front desk and hugged you warmly. "Hello! Happy Halloween, sweetheart." The smell of warm vanilla flirted with the air. "Ah, so glad to see you." 

Darla had been a family friend ever since you were a little girl. She was the maid of honor at your parents' wedding, and your mother's best friend since highschool. She took as much a part in raising you as your parents did. Her soul was kind, and her heart was pure. Even though her work would be considered morbid, her spirit was like a beacon of light in the lives of those whose loved ones had just recently passed on. 

"Don't tell me you baked sugar cookies," you jested. "How special." They were shaped like little jack o' lanterns. You pick one up and take a careful bite. The pleasantly sweet taste of the icing paired with the chewy texture of the cookie spread delightfully on your tongue. "So good," you hummed.

"Just don't tell your father," she winked, walking back into the staff kitchen. You glanced over at the clock. It was 9 o'clock at night, but you knew it would be a slow day, so you took your time ambling about the home. 

In the corridor, you paused in front of a mirror. Below it was a lit candle, and next to that, a bouquet of white Dahlias. They were lovely, only wilted at the ends. How sad. You were sure Mom had just visited the florist yesterday to negotiate a contract. Oh well. 

You walked past, toward the funeral chapel. Your father stood over a casket, mixing shades of lip balm on the palm of his hand. "Hey honeybee," he sighed. Your father had been downstairs in the chapel since the early morning, meeting with the family of the deceased and discussing options. It was never an easy job, but boy did your Dad know how to comfort others. 

"Hi Dad. I was wondering if I could be on flower duty tonight?" You suggested. "I know you have the guys coming in tomorrow morning doing the grass." 

"Oh, yeah. That would be such a big help. Thank you, honey," he crooned. Taking a long, thin brush, he swept up the balm onto the bristles. He holds the color up for you to see. "That is just right. That is a good swatch." 

You grinned. "Yeah, thanks Dad." 

While walking back the way you came, you noticed the candle had been put out. You figured a gust of wind had blown it, but the window at the end of the corridor was shut. Darla was in the kitchen, and it wasn't Dad. Peculiar, but not eerie enough to cause any panic. As to not invest yourself in something trivial such as a blown-out candle, you carried on your way. 

You took a box of white roses and set them down on a side table before layering your coats and such back on. You head out. 

The cheers and laughter of children trick-or-treating out in the streets filled your heart with nostalgia. You were once a little girl, running about those same streets searching for sweet treats, too. You gathered your flowers in their respective tiny vases and began distributing them among the graves.

There you stood, atop a misty hill underneath a grandmother willow tree with an empty box at the hip, looking out at the ocean of fog beneath you and out in the distance, houses lined up in a neat row with tenants handing out candy. 

As you looked out, a faint song, like a ragtime tune teased your ear. The music grew louder as a reflection of light washed over the field in front of you, creating a shadow. 

The noise was coming from behind you, you were sure, now. Gathering your courage, you turn. 

It felt like a dream. Where the funeral home had been, there now stood a mansion in the style of old. Questions flooding your mind, you blocked out your instincts and pushed forward to investigate further. 

The mansion seemed to possess an unearthly glow, the sheer energy of the dwelling made your skin pebble. "What the fuck…" you said under your breath. The railing that you'd touched earlier was transformed; it was now brand new. As you made your way up the stairs, you felt yourself transform. Your modern winter coat ceased to exist, and your pants transfigured into a long, red flowing dress. Jeweled rings transpire on your fingers in your size, and a long pearl necklace drapes itself over your collar. 

You hadn't smoked today. You don't smoke on weekdays. Desperately searching for sense, you turned back the way you came and realized the graveyard had disappeared completely. There was not a headstone in sight. There weren't even any houses or kids trick-or-treating around. The only notable landmark was the grandmother willow that stood atop that hill.

"Goodness," a baritone voice as clear as a bell rang. "You are here for the show, aren't you? You're late!" Before you was a man dressed in formal wear, his hair slicked back with gel and a mustache that's hard to miss. Shocked, you stumbled back. "Well don't just stand there looking at me with those big ol' eyes, come on! The whole band is up there waiting for their star!" 

Star? He couldn't have meant that you were to perform. Surely not! You don't sing. "Are you sure you've got the right person?" You sputtered as he pulled you through the door. 

You had entered another realm. Drinks were floating above glasses, pouring up gin and whiskey for spirits who didn't look a day past their prime. The murmur of the bar harmonized with the classic jazz which floated and wove itself around the party guests. 

In the very back, five men stood against the wall, smoking weed with their instruments perched up on their stands, having a conversation. One of them, the trumpet player, spotted you out in the crowd and tells his men to put out their joints. 

You were in a daze, meandering your way through the crowd until you found yourself on stage with a spotlight fixated on you. Your mouth went dry. You didn't know any of your music, how were you supposed to perform under these conditions? The musicians were waiting for your cue to start. Here goes nothing! 

"Maria!" A voice erupted from the crowd. "Oh, Maria, I've been looking for you all night. How did you wander so far, you thoughtless girl?" A young man emerged, pushing forward towards the stage, wagging his finger at you. His eyes begged you to go along with the bit. 

"Johnny! Oh thank God," you jump into his arms, whispering a quick thank you into his ear. "Find another girl!" You moued at the gentleman with the mustache. Jimin then carried you out of the lobby and into one of the quieter libraries. 

"Well," he sets you down. "My name is not Johnny and your name isn't Maria. I'm Jimin, what's yours, love?" 

"Y/N," you giggled. He kissed your hand, his sultry eyes greeting yours. "Quick question, uhm...what is this?" 

Jimin's expression shifted from pensive to surprised in a matter of a few seconds. "You'll have to excuse me, but I have a question for you first. What day is it in the mortal world?" 

"It's Halloween night," you replied. Jimin glances to the right, head bowed.

"I was afraid of this. You've entered into the realm of spirits, my dear. You're trapped here until daybreak." Jimin picked up a drink from a traveling waiter and took a swig. "Us spirits are stuck here, have been, between heaven and hell for nearly a century," he cringed upon taking another sip, putting it down afterwards. "And we've all got unsolved business in the overworld." 

If that was the case, then you might've had a chance to help Jimin."What's your business then?" The man flashed a smile. He didn't look the type to want any sort of vengeance upon anybody. 

"There's someone I need to meet," he said. "Come on, you've gotta meet the gang." 

Weaving through the parlaying guests and antique furniture, you followed behind him. You tilted your head up and marveled at the crystal chandeliers, refracting light to all corners of the grand lobby. You're swept by buffet tables lined with finger sandwiches and jello salads, hor d'oeuvres, plucking one or two from their trays. 

If you hadn't known any better, you would have thought that this was just a very well-coordinated historical reenactment, but everyone around you was dead. The thought made your arm hairs stand up. There were women in drop waist skirts wearing gaudy strings of pearls upon their breasts, men wearing long suits with high collars and lurid handkerchiefs flowing from their pockets. They made way for Jimin and his guest with peering eyes, some of them with a look of warning, others looked on with intrigue. 

Finally, you had arrived at an ordinary-looking door. Gripping the door handle, Jimin flashed a mischievous grin before turning it and pushing inside. 

Sat around the main table were six gentlemen. The one in the middle, the one with the zoot suit, nestled a handful of beaten cards whilst heatedly arguing with the skinnier gentleman with the cat-like face, in black.

"You bluffed, and I called you on your bluff and you're accusing me of being a liar?" He rose up from his seat, furious. In one swift movement, he threw his body across the table and grabbed the man by the collar, rip-- 

"Ahem," Jimin coughed. "We have a guest, gentlemen. Meet the lovely Y/N." You stepped forward, finding it appropriate to curtsey. 

Namjoon loosened his grip on Yoongi's collar, wiping his hands on his shirt. Relieved, Yoongi sank into his chair. "Welcome, welcome, mortal," he replied, fixing his posture. Beside him, a mature looking fellow smirked and lit a joint. 

"Hyung, does this mean that you'll finally be put to rest?" A wide-eyed man with a proud nose asked. 

"Depends on if I draw my cards right," Jimin nodded. He took off his suit jacket, hanging it on a coat hanger by the door. He wore a white shirt underneath, tailored exactly to accentuate his body, paired with a pair of slacks and suspenders.  

"Could you set up a game of twenty-one?" He stepped forward, his silver-banded fingers tapping the mahogany table. You joined him. A man with a long corduroy suit jacket and a backwards flat cap shuffled an idle deck and passed each of you a card from the top. "Do you know the rules?" 

Of course you did, Darla had taught you how to play during rainy days at the mortuary. It was a favorite of hers. "Mhm," you touched the card to turn it over. Jimin stopped you. 

"I'd like to make a deal with you, Y/N." Oh? This sounded interesting. What could this man possibly have in store for you? There was no sound apart from the social banter of the crowd outside. All eyes were set on you, expecting your reaction. "Isn't that how you play, you bet on something," a notable smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. 

"Yes, Jimin. What is it?" His anatomy faced yours, his hips positioned forward. His tongue swiped his bottom lip. He turned his head towards the door and then met your eyes. Gazing into his eyes was staring into the eyes of spite itself, defiance of death itself lived within the unrested soul of this man. Sin, deviant sin. All that was unholy possessed the spirit of the man who held the cards of your fate between his fingers. 

"I love that word," he announces to his gang. "I love that word: yes." He put his right hand in his pocket, and as he spoke you felt yourself get drawn into him. "Now, Y/N, will you make a deal with me, angel?" His voice melted in your ear like a siren's, his pretty eyes beckoning you. 

"Yes," you sighed, "Mhm, yes." 

"Good. We're going to play," Jimin smiled, his tone smooth and honey-like. "And if you lose this game, my love, you're to be my whore." The word sounded gorgeously dissonant spilling from his lips, and at once, thoughts penetrated your dazed consciousness. 

"Yes," you said, breathily. Satisfaction pooled his visage. 

He gestured to the cards splayed on the table and said: "Pick yours up. Hit or stand?" He held his card between his thumb and index.  

Your card was an ace of spades. You'd have been an idiot to hit, but you'd lose if you stand. You chose to hit and accept the risk of getting busted.  "Hit," you gestured towards Taehyung. He slides you another card. 

Jimin hit as well. 

Your cards hit the table. Your total was an 18. He scanned your cards with mock distress, making you believe that, just for a second, you'd won. 

He tossed his hand on the table. A King of Spades and an Ace of Hearts. He had 21. Jimin shrugged. "I won." 

"Don't act surprised or disappointed. You're coy if you think I don't know from how you look at me what you want me to do to you," he slides the cards over to the dealer. 

The night was young and the adrenaline in the room was high. You prepared yourself for a long and rewarding night. 

-

a/n: I needed to get this off my chest.

[sly-merlin]

T h e      E n c h a n t e d      C a n v a s

Pairing :: doyoung x reader ft simmi and her moots

Word count :: ~4k

Genre :: Hogwarts soulmate strangers to ?? Fluff

Synopsis ::

Y/n , a muggle is called to Hogwarts not because of her exceptional talents but due to the fact that her soulmate is a pure/half blood studying in Hogwarts. Her destiny takes her from an average household to the enchanting world of spells and charms. Would she found the one she sought? or sh’d end up losing herself in the new world!

A/n :: this is a Christmas gift for lovely nini - @dvrlingrenjun​ under @neoculturechristmas​ event. Thank you admins for letting me talk to her. And nini!! I'd be happy if you enjoy this even a little bit. I hope you can get some time out from your responsibilities to relax and then we can cry over twice's beauty!! MERRY CHRISTMAS NINI.

With love ,

From simmi(stocking anon)

tagging :: lovely @danishmiilk​  ( warning :: donot expect too much) @astroboy-lele​ (oops! i opened discord and just remembered i was supposed to tag you furou! sowy)

networks :: @neowritingsnet​ @kafenetwork​ @nct-writers​ 

thank you aria @adamfoolcry​ for hyping me up!!!

"A MAGIC SCHOOL?DO I LOOK LIKE A FOOL TO YOU?" you screamed at your parents, their pleading eyes instantly making you guilty.

"Darling! That woman showed us what she's capable of. You can go and learn and it's not like you have much of an option." Your father said, caressing your arm.

They were right. The woman, who called herself the professor of Hogsy or something school, had explained to you the two tier unscripted path of your future. The first thing being that you were invited to study at an elite magic school, the evidence of which was provided by summoning your sketchbooks from your room. Second being, your soulmate was a boy of the magical community so you,inevitably, were a part of it and there was no escape from it. 

"I don't want to leave you alone!" Tears threatening to fall, you requested your parents. 

"Please sweetie. Don't make this harder than it already is. We do not have enough money to provide you with quality education. At least you are getting a chance to improve your life. Do not let this chance pass because of us. Besides it's like a boarding school. That lady did say you'd be visiting us twice a year and that too for two whole months! I see no harm sweetie. You possibly cannot refuse your soulmate right. They need you as much as you need them. So go and live your life. Make your parents proud!" 

Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry,

Year - third

"Then the battery is placed in this small compact space in a very specific way to make the clock work. This small cylindrical unit called battery has very complicated working so we'll discuss that next week. And this week,I won't be bothering you with any homework so go and enjoy. Have an enchanting day." Your professor dismissed the class with a brightening smile.

"Y/n" she called as you were packing your bag.

"Yes mam?" You asked her, hands respectfully crossed in front of your skirt.

"I just wanted to say thank you so much for the automated battery clock that you got. The ones we have are very old and it's a long and tiring process to ask for new ones. Do know how delighted i am to have you in my class. I'm glad you chose muggle studies as elective." She smiled at you and you bowed just a bit to show your gratitude and walked outside for your other classes.

Being a ravenclaw was all about wisdom, intellect, being sharp minded and laced with logic and creativity or this was what the book that prof McGonagall gave you read. The almighty sorting hat, the pillar on which walls of Hogwarts stood, had placed you in ravenclaw. Though the hat did contemplate between every single house, you ended up with ravenclaw. You believed neither in the semi-animate object nor the popular saying that Sorting hat knows you better than you do yourself for you failed to find your own kind. The smart ravenclaws were too bright for you. It didn't help that you were the only muggle in your year. You weren't able to keep up with them and if it haven't been for willy, your only friend in ravenclaw, you'd have ended up going home,without finding your destiny. Not that you were any better at the moment but life was fun with willy and aria, your hufflepuff friend. 

But nothing remains stationary right!

“How are you here already?” you questioned lazily.

“Arithmancy professor fell sick this morning. I've been free since then.” said Aria. You turned to William, who was busy toying with his alligator bracelet. “And you willy?” 

“Huh?” he mindlessly asked. 

“I asked, did you run away from divination again?” you repeated the question, changing the words to suit his ears. 

“Oh no! We just had a small accident in class today.” he giggled, his glasses falling off as he doubled over with laughter.

The potion classroom was soon jammed with third year fellows, all chatting in their own friend groups, enjoying the few minutes before they would be bombarded with over expectation of brewing a girding potion.  At the precise moment, the door was closed shut.

“STOP THE USELESS GOSSIP AND SPLIT INTO YOUR BREWING GROUPS. NOW!”

Prof. Snape thundered as all the students, without a second wasted, dispersed and settled. “Mr. brown.” he called a hufflepuff, “collect the ingredients and mr. kim, care to move yourself and help him.” he instructed two students who complied immediately. “Not that i expect any from you little incompetent students, you shall not prepare more than two vials of the potion or else i won’t hesitate to make you do your laundry in the same foul liquid. Understood!” his warning earned silent gagging from several students at the mention of the awful smell, of which you were not excluded. 

As you got busy in discussing the recipe, noise of shattering glass and a shrill cry pierced through your ears. Before you could raise your head to witness the happening, your left wrist burned as if it was set on fire. Knees buckling, you fell on the floor as sudden inflammation blocked your senses, heart wrenching screams leaving your throat.Your wailing alerted your friends as William instantly unbuttoned your sleeve to view the reason of your pain and gasped at the damage. 

“Prof. snape! Her soulmate mark is burning.” he shouted but your ears were too clogged due to choked sobs to feel the distress in his voice. You slowly opened your heavy eyelids as your wrist was pulled swiftly. With blurred vision, you saw prof. casting a spell,his wand releasing a blue light circling your mark which entered your wrist, momentarily soothing the pain. Your cries softened into tiny sniffles as the spell did it's work. You lifted yourself up with Willy's help while sloppily rubbing at the darkened spot. 

“Oh yes, it’d leave some itching and for the spot and further treatment, you need to immediately go to the hospital wing. Ms. y/l/n and mr. Kim, you both are excused and for your foolishness, 100 points from slytherin.” Upon his command, your head snapped towards the man standing across the room in dishevelled state,probably matching your own,his hand clutching his wrist, eyes holding your gaze.

“Out!” 

Nodding your head, you made your way out, the male following after you. 

Either you were too slow in your steps or he was too brisk, but he seemed to be way ahead of you. Gripping your tingling and heavy hand, you were tracing his path when a pair of shoes met your vision, halting you in the middle of the corridor. 

“It’s stinging y/n. We have to run!” and before you could reply, he was sprinting for the stairs, taking you with him.

“You both are in the same year?” the nurse asked, examining the burnt swans on your wrists. 

“Yes” you both replied in unison, eyes meeting for a second before you  averted your gazes. The head nurse noted something in her register before she went to extract some bandages and potions.

“is the skin still burning?" The nurse queried, taking doyoung's hand but he pulled his hand and pointed for you. 

"She's more hurt. Check her first please" he mumbled, noticing your incessant scratching and ragged breathing. She shook her head and proceeded with the treatment.

"Why were you playing with the potions?" She scolded Doyoung while applying the healing potion. 

"I wasn't!" Doyoung retorted as he straightened his back in defence. "It got spilled by mistake when I was finding seaho-RSES!" He screeched as the medicine stung.

"Seahorses are kept in see-through containers mr. Kim and don't you nincompoops know that golden marks are sensitive to heat. Why were you wearing a folded shirt in a potions class when clearly you were exposed t-

"The temperature madam!" Your eyes never left his face as you witnessed the misery he went through in the past few minutes and which you were going to experience in a few seconds. 

"Give me your hand miss y/n" 

The liquid ignited it again but as she massaged on it, the skin felt cooler than before and when she wrapped the white bandage, the sharp needles alleviated into cold jingling. You carefully glanced at doyoung through your peripheral vision only to find him staring at you with wide eyes. Saving yourself the humiliation, you tried to hide your face into your neck which only annoyed you further due to the wetness of your fresh tears mixing with sweaty moisture, creating what felt like a puddle but you endured it, calculating the weight of the outcomes.

"Do stop by every day for a change of bandage unless you want to live your whole life with black wrists which I clearly don't have any problem with kids!" She jested before leaving for her office. 

You stayed seated beside doyoung, the newfound soulmate, wondering if he was as nervous as you were. Fisting your clammy hands, you mustered all the courage you could, ready to introduce yourself but the greeting travelled back through your throat when he hopped off the hospital bed and departed without uttering anything. 

Your recently dried eyes were sprayed again with his callous action as millions thoughts ran through your throbbing head, heart constricting under the weight of silence. 

Did the man for whom you deserted the whole world for, rejected you?

"HE DID WHAT?" Aria hollered and looming forward, slamming her hands down on the table. At her reactions, you felt your own anger bubbling again but the disorder generated by the recent incident and William's reasoning, you stopped yourself from forming any conclusion.

"Will you calm down." 

"No willy, don't you want to rip that sly boy apart. How dare he! I’m going to- wait you told him before me! That's not fare." She whined, diverting her own attention.

“stop shouting aria. Let people eat in silence. An-and we don't know why he left. It could be--maybe he wanted to use the washroom or he wanted to hide his pai-

"Stop defending him willy or I'll pour this porridge over your head" willy pouted at her remark and slided down his chair to avoid her.

"Stop bickering and tell me what should i be doing now! I have a soulmate for god's sake!"

You had finally found the reason for your presence in the castle, your soulmate, kim doyoung and you didn’t know how to proceed.

"I guess wait y/n and at least you were saved from the awful odour of the gird today. Sicheng almost fainted in front of professor but that was a hilarious sight girl. You missed it" you saw rolling her eyes at the mention and you mirrored her reaction,resting your head on the table as Willy's ironic statement only intensified the pounding.

Wait! But for how long?

"YOUR FROG BRAIN DID WHAT?" Simmi jumped off the bed to face doyoung, her hand reaching for the transfiguration book.

"I-i- i got nervous!" He whined and cringed at his pathetic excuse. He was busy folding and unfolding his poor ear,apparently in nervousness, when his best friend thwacked his bicep with the heavy book.

He cried out loud, grasping his arm with one hand, “do you want to die!” he glowered at her. 

“How could you miss your soulmate when she was right there in front of you for two years." She said before working on his arm again. 

“I’m not the only one! She also missed me.” he reasoned, holding his hands up in refuge from her neverending attacks. “Wait!” he exclaimed, pondering over his words. “How could she not know I was her soulmate when almost everyone knows I've got a gold swan embroidered.” his face fell in despondency and the horrible and hurried conclusion his thoughts took him to. “Simmi what if she- what if she never wanted to find me and that-

“Merlin’s beard shut yourself up and mail your family. They need to know their baby boy is all grown up now!”

He nodded in acknowledgement of the suggestion but his wandering mind refused to rest until he was sure of his qualms. 

Maybe he should wait! But for how long?

My love was sleeping, but there was fragrance in the air

Doyoung roamed around in circles, his heart unevenly drumming, body so warm under the strain of muddled thoughts that the moisture was seeping through the bandage. The response of his parents, lying on his bed in the form of a letter, had relieved him of the worries of any prospective opposition. Not that he didn’t know his family, he wasn't too convinced how their family would address the sudden revelation of his soulmate being a muggle. You were going to be the first muggle in his family and the first ravenclaw after his great grandmother. The first line of the letter “we are elated to know that your soulmate is a human and not your piano” had eased him for the remaining part. Now that the dragon was out of the dungeon, the subsequent troubles were giving him splitting migrains. 

In the past week, he had tried to approach you after a painful shove from taeyong and simmi but he had to retreat due to your very malevolent comrades. The mental conversations he had with you continued to be in the confines of his head but nothing arrested him from searching for you in the crowds. You had always been there, in the same classes, in the great hall, in the corridors but you were nowhere when his eyes sought you. Just a week has passed and he found himself getting more and more conscious of your presence. He wanted to hijack and become a part of your convivial life yet he lacked the needed courage. 

So he resorted to wearying his legs by moving around. Maybe Some blood rush from his branches to brain would give him some clarity.

By degrees, the thumping of his spirit corresponded to the swooshing of the sea creatures.

He might have been too young to fall in true love but slowly, he knew, he was falling for that little golden swan.

Hidden from the rest, you were completing your assignment when the chair besides you was drawn out. You raised your head with the intention of getting the chair vacated for your friends but watching the Kim doyoung occupying the seat, you shot up instantly,ready for your escape. Fumbling with the ink and books, you whirled around only to be stopped by the boy.

 You glanced at him for a moment before pulling your hand ,which he was tugging at , back. 

"Stay. Your friends won't be coming today. I won't say anything. Please" he requested with his doe eyes looking up in a hope to catch yours. 

Wordlessly, you sat down.

He kept his promise. 

No word was spoken that day or the next day or the next week. 

The intense silence that engulfed you that day soon morphed into a tranquil one. The one of the familiarity, of the silent exchanges and of the growing unbreathed bond.

By the end of the month, the green leaves sacrificed themselves for the birth of fiery red ones as the days became shorter, the sun became mischievous and the gold on your wrists started gleaming more than ever.

One month later 

“Gamps’ law of transformation? Didn’t we read it last year?” doyoung asked perplexedly, taking the reins of the conversation, again.

“Prof. told me to prepare an assignment which would be used for the younger students.” you replied sheepishly, dipping the quill in the ink. 

“Pure ravenclaw” he muttered, looking lovingly at you. These days, he did it more often than he could count. He wanted to say more but the fear of your refusal always held him back.

“Not so much” 

you heard his muttering! He wanted to pry further but saved it for a later discussion. 

He shifted himself towards his own chair and worked on his sheet as the ticking of the grandfather clocks muddled with scratching of the quills filled the empty corner. 

It wasn't home but it certainly felt like one!

Two months later

“Give us our y/n back” aria whisper yelled to taeyong.

“She’s doyoung’s soulmate, doyoung is my best friend hence she is my best friend as well.” taeyong retorted, dramatically flaring his nostrils. 

“Don’t forget we live at the same place taeyong and simmi won’t be there to save you baboon face.” amused smiles adorned everyone’s faces as they saw both of them quarelling. Some things were always constant. 

You sipped on your hot chocolate that warmed you up as you and doyoung went through the revision for the last exam. Without being asked, he helped you with his encyclopedic knowledge. you were grateful for his assistance but never said anything for you felt like the feather silence between you was too delicate to breach. 

So you spoke through your eyes.

And he never failed to hear you.

Wrapping the scarf around your neck, you sprinted for the dining hall, tightly holding onto the white chocolates tightly. 

At the end of the hallway, you saw another figure running over in the same state as you.

“Did you get shorter?” he said, grinning ear to ear. Glancing up at him, you scanned through his features, in case you had forgotten in the christmas holidays. 

“This is for you!” you both said simultaneously, extending your hands

“Open it for me!” you requested.

Under the emerald covering was an elegant and vintage fountain pen, engraved and decorated with turquoise stones. “This is so beautiful.” you told him before taking it from him. You traced over the name kim carved onto the nib of the pen. You raised your brows in question to which he responded quickly , “it’s my great grandma’s. This is your Christmas gift from the Kim family. I know it’s small but you are invi-

“It’s precious. You are giving me a family heirloom when all i got are some homemade milk chocolates for you.” your smile faded as you avoided his sight.

“How did you know white chocolates are my favourite?” he exclaimed, a bit too loudly.

“Mom said you’d l-

Before you could complete your sentence, he prised the chocolate box out of your grip, sprinting for the great hall.

“OH KIM DOYOUNG! GIVE ME MY SHARE!” 

YEAR - FOURTH

“Why are you always so quiet?” 

“I’m never!” you defended yourself. 

Doyoung didn’t know why he was talking about it now and here, out of all places, in front of whomping willow.

“Tell me!” he pressed.

“I talk to a few and it’s enough.”

“Do you know you are intimidating?” you raised your chin to scrutinise the sincerity in his words.

“I am not!” 

“To those you don’t know you, you radiate passive energy. My slytherin friends wanted to introduce themselves but they got scared and ran away. Honestly, i was also a bit-

He trailed off, slouching on the bench as your eyes bored into his. His head hung low in apology for he knew, he must've crossed the line but for the first time, you decided to show him your dauntless side.

“Hogwarts did that to me.” you said, wearily. “I was happy with my parents, drawing and colouring in my art books when suddenly i was told that i’ve been living in a wrong way. That there is a secret magical place where i have a soulmate. I was angry because i had to leave everything behind. And then i was sorted into ravenclaw. And i was distorted when i found out that i wasn't smart enough for them. I couldn't solve the riddles! William was the one who showed me how to do it properly. It felt awful knowing that the only place that was supposed to be my home for next seven years wasn't the place where i belonged to.” you spoke calmly but doyoung felt your distress and let you continue without any interruptions. 

“I was an eleven year old. I never wanted to fend for myself in a place full of strangers. I -i imagined my life to be a canvas full of colours that i wanted to design for myself. The borders, the paint, the drawing, i wanted to design it for me. But then an owl screeched and i felt like someone had shortened my canvas and after all these years, i feel it’s completely disappearing.” it sounded like someone snatched the life out of your voice. But your visage remained soft, drawing doyoung in. 

“So you like art.” he asked with curiosity. 

“Yes. i love art.” you said, eyes fixed at the movements of the branches of whomping willow.

“Can you please teach me?” he urged and within a second , the air filled with the fragrance of your happiness.

“ why wouldn’t I. what do you wanna do in future doyong? Aria wants to arithmancer, william would be a healer and sicheng, he would be a star quidditch player.”

“I don't want to worry about it right now. Let’s just live in today.” he answered back, smile gracing his lips at the thought of a future with you.

You both relished each other’s company until the temperature froze the both of you.

Removing a  snowflake from your lashes, he made a promise to himself that he’d help you find something that’d put ice on all the bitter memories you had. 

YEAR - FIFTH

THE GREAT HALL

 “Doyoung’s got a howler!” yuta and simmi fist bumped each other, already too excited for the letter to be opened. Of all the howlers they have received, doyoung and yuta’s were record establishing and they expected mrs. kim to maintain the status quo this time as well.

The howler jumped in the air and as the seal opened, doyoung’s heart dropped at the voice. It was not from his mother but his sister and it shouted humiliation, if he was being polite towards her. 

“MS. Y/N!” 

You choked on the juice as you heard your name. 

“MY DEAR TO-BE-SISTER-IN-LAW, HELLO! I’M IVET, THAT DENSE DUDE’S LITTLE SISTER. MUM HAS SENT YOU SOME ART SUPPLIES AND SHE WANTS TO KNOW IF YOU COULD PAINT HER SOMETHING TO DECORATE THE EMPTY WALL IN HER ROOM. SHE’D BE DELIGHTED AND IF YOU GET TIME,PLEASE DRAW SOMETHING FOR ME TOO. AND DOYIE BRO! BRING ME CHOCOLATE FROGS FROM THE TRAIN! SHOP FROGS DOESN'T TASTE THE SAME. FORGET THIS TIME AND I’D MAKE SURE YOU REGRET YOUR EXISTENCE. I hope we can meet soon ms. y/n. By.”

The howler exploded and so did the whole room. Several snorts, chuckles, happy curses were exchanged as doyoung lowered himself under the table to avoid the shame. 

You checked your paint supplies attached with the howler and as your lips curved up, he knew what he was going to pursue in his life. 

Your happiness and immortality.

When i found you, there was magic 

“Mr. kim if you wish to ogle at ms.y/l/n instead of paying attention to my words then i’d suggest please fail your o.w.l.s so i don’t have to face your affection filled face from next year.” prof snape growled, throwing the head of vial on doyoung’s face. 

He was going to fail potions, you thought gesturing him to apologise.

“And 20 points from slytherin and 10 points from ravenclaw!” you both ducked your heads in an instant, forcing a poker face to save yourself from further trouble.

When i found you, rain smelled good

YEAR - SIXTH

When i found you, desires awakened

“No simmi! This is a slytherin dungeon. I cannot go inside!” you warned simmi, who, all of a sudden was adamant on showing you her room, at midnight. 

“I love you but please don’t call this a dungeon.” she held out her hand before you could correct her. “Yes i know this is practically a dungeon but we call it seascape.  Close your ears, you don’t wanna hear the password. You nodded, palming your ears.

“Yutaisthegreatestbeingintheworld” you snickered as she recited the words.

“Our prefect is a dung brain so please excuse.”

Door opened to darkness but a dim light slowly floated towards you as you walked inside “Nox”  your wand rose high up in the air. You made out doyoung’s figure and before you could calculate, the whole room resonated with a syncless birthday song.

And you knew, you were enthralled by this boy.

You heard my prayers, you answered my heart’s call

“I love you aria. Would you give me the honour of being the snitch of your life?” sicheng, aria’s ravenclaw soulmate confessed to her with a promise ring. 

“The ice prince finally melted!” You and william, hands joined, jumped in joy as you watched aria’s eyes glistened with glee.

You rushed upstairs to find doyoung as you forsaw the end of your wait.

Panting heavily, you dragged doyoung out of prof’s room, his step gracefully flowing with yours in a instant.

“What are yo-

“What do you smell in amortentia?” you stopped abruptly and asked him, gasping for air.

“Wh-a-t” he giggled nervously, his hand patting his chest to control his own breathing. “What has gotten ov-

“Answer me kim doyoung.” you whispered, strictly.

He was quiet but you understood the stillness of his heart veiled by the thumping and you felt him losing his composure when his hands cupped your face, 

"I-i smelled white chocolate, lovely lillies-

"Hurry up Kim." You hit his chest with your fist with requirement of the answer.

He chuckled, his bunny teeth enlightening his chiselled face while he looked at you like you were something special to him and you no more just wanted to feel it. You wanted him to say it, express it like he did when he read the poetry from your book or like the random scribbles on his notebooks. You wanted him to move on from the shy glances and profess that you were his and he was yours. 

he licked his lips as he gulped harshly before continuing,

"And you. You-your hair. Your lavender scent. Your innocence. Your d-dreams. Your colours. Your paints yo-

Pulling him by his tie, you placed your lips on his soft ones, leaving them with a smack. His hands wrapped around your waist to embrace you in the warmest hug you'd ever received from a loved one. As your head laid on his chest, you heard his heartbeat for the first time, making you feel closer to him than ever. 

"How would i ever requite your love Kim doyoung" you asked, closing your eyes.

"Maybe a portrait would do!" 

Kim doyoung became the canvas of your life,giving you the liberty to paint him in your colours and  your love and you became the smudged ink to his enchanted diary, without whom he would've failed to fill the pages.

You'd grow old but the swans born out of you would tell the stories of the years gone by.

[closer-stars]

Heart of Depth (4)

Member: Yeosang Genre: Action, Slice of Life, Fantasy, Fluff, a little tension. Genshin Inspired AU Word Count: ~5k Requested: Sort of yeah Content: Yeosang x MC development. More world building. Food stuff. some history, some typical genshin shenanigans. Mild Violence. Mentions of death Note: Surprise lol. I’ve been working on this fic at the same time as gut feeling hence the speedy posting, part 5 to be posted soon.  Network: @ateezlovenet Tag list: @barsformars @miniyeo @jeongyunhoed @yeekies @yeotlny @frankenstein852 @shinyddeonghwa @prodbyteez @yeochikin @yeocult @harubirus

Part 3

Yeosang’s friend, Hongjoong, arrives at your shop today. He waits for you and Wooyoung patiently by the door. Well, you assume it’s Hongjoong based on his mannerisms. He didn’t seem like the men Wooyoung had to fight the night before. The two of you approach your shop carefully: the grip you have on your keys were tight, Wooyoung’s stance was low enough to not get weird glances but low enough to give him enough force to jump should it not be him. 

The male notices the two of you and greets you politely. “Hello, I’m Kim Hongjoong, Kang told me about your need for assistance.” The introduction puts your guards down. You remember Yeosang’s description of the male, around Wooyoung’s height, eyes that seem inquisitive, with wavy hair that seem to frame his face. If none of these events had happened, you would’ve assumed he was a model with how he carried himself. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You introduce yourself and Wooyoung, as you open the shop for the day. Not even a few minutes after, people start pouring into your shop-- some of them with obvious relief on their features. They speak of their worries of the shop having closed down or you and Wooyoung not doing alright. All of which are shut down with reassurances. As the three of you go about with the orders and other needed rituals, you teach Hongjoong the ins and outs of your shop, what to press to make certain types of coffee, how to make foamed milk and so on. “Oh and if you want to create any dishes, feel free to do so. Some of Wooyoung’s creations are on the menu as well.” 

Throughout the day, the three of you try to get to know each other more, even asking Hongjoong for tidbits about who Yeosang and San really are and who he really is. He answers simply about himself, a Dendro holder, whose blood is similar to that of San’s. “So how old are you?” Wooyoung asks. 

“Younger than San, older than you.” It was a simple answer but enough to give the two of you an idea of how long he has walked the earth. It also explains his oddly shaped pupils but perhaps a detailed rundown of his lineage is for another day.

Wooyoung returns to where the two of you are, just in time to get the gist of the conversation as you guide Hongjoong through making an iced macchiato. “Yeah and most of the earnings made from those dishes go to you.” He eggs the other male on with a cheeky grin on his face. Hongjoong, catching onto his antics, releases a light laugh after having made enough milk foam for the order. 

“I’ll consider that.” You let Hongjoong pour the order into a plastic cup for the customer. You don’t miss the lingering gazes from the women as well. Maybe having an attractive barista could help with the sales. 

--------

You were back running business as usual. Only since that incident, you had to start closing a little earlier than usual. You had to write on your small board that you’ll only be able to be open until 5PM every day for the next few weeks due to personal reasons. Wooyoung spends the rest of the day in the studio, though he gets creative with the journey there-- using various train lines, or even walking through different streets just to make sure he doesn’t become predictable from the Abyss. He was more worried for you though. Hongjoong as well, walks with you usually: either walking the two of you to your apartment or elsewhere, just for safety. It was part of the agreement after all. 

For today the shop has to close early, at least he can be reassured that you’ll be safe with Yeosang for tonight. “Damn, you really dressed up for tonight huh?” Wooyoung muses as he leans against the counter. Hongjoong lingers around Wooyoung’s side. For the entire day, Wooyoung gave the older male a rundown of your relationship with Yeosang-- at least the parts you forgot to add, which generally was the romantic aspect. 

To be fair, you did put a little more effort today hoping that Wooyoung wouldn’t notice unless you wanted to be teased. Your blouse, though it can be easily wrinkled, hangs on your body well. It’s also one of your favorites simply for how it feels cool to the touch. You were wearing slacks as well, not your usuals for comfort and practicality but today, knowing Yeosang’s preferences when it comes to dates, it was better to just dress up.  “Shush.” You chide him, wrinkling your nose at his teasings. “I know he’s seen me in just shorts or joggers when I’m working but considering it’s a date…” Until now, whenever you say that you’re going on a date with him, your heart beats a little faster. “I figured I might as well... “ 

The mischievous glint in Wooyoung’s eyes softens just a bit as he snickers at how flustered you look. “Don’t worry about it too much, the two of you have really good dynamics. Guess you could say there’s a spark” He rests against his elbows this time. The pun doesn’t go unnoticed by Hongjoong. “Have you even seen how he looks at you? That guy’s really smitten.” There was also a hint of curiosity behind the soft gaze Yeosang carries for you. He wonders what it is, but if there’s anything being an electro user tells him, it’s patience. “Besides, your shop has garnered a bunch of loyal customers now. They don’t mind the early close especially for personal reasons. At least have fun tonight.” 

You look at the clock. It won’t be long until he picks you up from the shop then. “You already know how to lock up this place right?” It won’t be long either until Wooyoung has to head to the studio. 

“Of course. The keys are with me and the extra set of keys are at home.” He rolls his eyes in jest at your concern. “Do you have Regalia with you?” He returns. 

Regalia’s the name of the bracelet you’ve been wearing since day one of living with Wooyoung’s family. One of the last few things you’ve kept from your family that he’s aware of. He doesn’t usually mind you not wearing it during work but with the recent events, you can only assume this is for your peace of mind. “Yup.” You raise your wrist to his view, and he sees the cool toned beads adorn and accentuate the silver charm that rests just above where your pulse is. 

Your vision was peaking under your top, just by your waist, not wanting to bring too much attention to your capabilities but still wanting to stay on the safe side. Underneath the calm facade, lies the same person who’s still wary of everything since then. A figure catches his eye by the door. It’s Yeosang, this time wearing a cream blazer under a simple printed white shirt and dark gray pants and ankle boots. He always manages to make you feel a tad bit underdressed with his fashion sense. You envy Wooyoung’s nonchalance to the fashion differences, then again, Wooyoung’s been confident in his own style. That’s what got him to where he is now. 

Just as you were about to ask Wooyoung a question, he beats you to it. “Yes, you look fine. Now go and have your date.” He shooes you off with a wave of his hand. You shoot him a look of mild annoyance for his ability to see through your facade. So with that done, you grab your things on top of the counter and wave him goodbye. 

“Call me when something comes up okay?” 

He says nothing but shoots you an okay sign, making sure you focus on the man who’s been waiting for you like a lovesick puppy by the door. 

Just as you step out of the shop, you’re greeted by a warm smile from him. It’s interesting how that smile made him look younger when he’s already thousands of years older than you. It just comes with the whole Archon responsibility, you suppose. As you approach him, he hands you a bouquet of various flowers-- peeking above the flowers, you see his cheeks bloom into an endearing pink.

“Yeosang what’s this for?” You ask, the wrapped flowers in your hands has you dumbfounded. You weren’t sure if it was a double peonies but you’ve definitely seen this before somehow. You knew that this was a rarity but how he managed to acquire them at the height of their beauty at this time of the year was a feat for you. “What is this?” A white flower, not yet in full bloom, is surrounded by simple greens and hyacinths. You gaze at them for a moment, before returning your gaze to the man in front of you.

The tips of his ears shine bright pink, a stark contrast to his black-blue hair. “I thought you might appreciate another type of flower to be in your shop.” You can’t turn down this gift. Double peonies have been something you would usually see online. To know that these are real ones and they’re in your hands, it was truly an experience. “Neve Jewel.” He answers your question softly

You look at him for a moment, shocked at how he got this flower for you. “How often should I water them?” You ask as you try to look for a vase or a spare pot that you would plant them in for the time being in your shop. You’d love to bring home a sapling of this down the line. 

“Every three days.” He says after clearing his throat. If he didn’t, he would’ve stuttered through the tip. The look of pure glee in your eyes made him think that getting you the flowers was a good decision, at least it was good enough to make his chest feel warm. As you look through the pots in your shop, you realize there’s no space for them: looks like you’ll have to carry them for the entirety of the date. 

He offers you the crook of his arm, for you to hold onto for the rest of the date. “So what’s the plan for tonight?” You ask as you gently hold onto his arm as he offered. The night was still young and there was so much they could do and for all you know he might pull more surprises. 

  “Well, for starters, you have the freedom to choose what we eat tonight. I figure it’s only fair to let you choose this time as it was my choice last time.” That’s right, you remember the last restaurant being expensive and him being able to pay with ease. A small part of you wonders if he could cover your further studies or help with the studio Wooyoung also works in. 

The power to choose makes you hum in thought. Truthfully the decisions were countless. “How about pizza and pasta? I know a place you might like.” A short pause. “Well, we can look at the menu and see if you like it, if not we go elsewhere.” You offer. 

You hate to admit that ever since knowing Yeosang’s the Archon, you started seeing him in a slightly different light. Maybe it’s your insecurities? Wondering who else did he love before you. Was it your jealousy? Wanting to know what he knows about this world and perhaps beyond-- along with his financial security. It can’t be helped, there have been times where you gave up something you eyed for more important things. Living on your own isn’t easy but at least you work at your own pace. 

“Something on your mind?” Yeosang asks softly. He doesn’t want anyone listening in on them as he starts noticing fleeting glances at either you or him. It didn’t take much for him to know that your thoughts were running again. Your hand felt loose in his arm, and your footsteps felt like they were floating. It was funny to him how you reminded him of them yet still be your own person. 

“Ah?” You hummed, blinking a few times to get back to reality. “Nothing too pressing, just curiosity over how life has been for you since Day 1.” You admit. You know of their existence: of Archons that bestow these visions, of beings that are half human, half something, or even not entirely human that walk with you. To be in their presence though, is another topic entirely. “Along with the chances of meeting the likes of your kind.” 

He flashes a small smile at your honesty. “I see. All of which are understandable thoughts. I suppose I can tell you a few stories over dinner.” He promises. There’s something comforting in how he carries no hint of resentment, but it leads to more curiosity of what he has buried in all these years. “If time still permits today, I’ll show you some places that hold significance to me that people nowadays do not know of.” 

“You say a lot of promises, Yeosang.” You note teasingly. As you do so, you gesture to the restaurant that you had set your eyes (and stomach) on. “Check out their menu first?” 

He looks at the restaurant and chuckles. “My dear, San always pesters me about this place. I don’t eat here as often as he does but trust me, I have no issues with tonight’s choice.” He would come here often for San’s favorite especially after a long night of dealing with awry beings that try to wreck havoc. It’s enough to get him through a few hours until he crashes. 

His words reassure you and thus, the two of you enter the premises, finding comfort in a booth, away from any eyes that could wander. After the orders have been made, you were left alone with him once more. From your place, you could watch people walk past the restaurant on one side, while the cars zoom past on the other. Yeosang lets you look around for a moment before he starts telling you some of his stories. “So which one would you like to know about?” 

He answers your questions to the best of his ability. Yes, even if people try to recreate the food from the past, it’s still not the same, not even with the same ingredients, things just naturally changes over time and he has come to accept that. His current favorite is fried chicken though, even better if it’s the half-half type. He tells you about a plot of raised land on the other side of the river. You weren’t aware of this story: how that was initially something like a mountain only for him to flatten it with the force of water after an immortal being thought they were greater than the heavens that made them. He admits that the immortal was a dear friend of his who had changed as time passed them by. A god of earthquakes, he tells you. “So with that in mind, it’s impossible to fully wipe out any archon or immortal being.” Your inquisitive and sharp mind warms his heart. Humanity’s curiosity is their greatest downfall. Yet, this is what pushes beings like him to protect you and your kind. It’s what has kept your species going. 

“Yes and no. This dear friend of mine, he can’t..” he trails off as he tries to find the right word, tilting his head in thought. “His material body cannot come back but his essence lives on. It explains the tremors we feel occasionally.” Some gods are forgotten as well, buried deep in the oceans he rules in where only the darkest parts of humanity’s consciousness can only remember. Yet from time to time, occurrences happen that tell him that there are people that still remember. Fortunately, before the discussion gets any depressing, the food arrives and he takes this chance to know more about you and anything you’re curious about with these flowers that rest on your lap. 

He asks you about the latest social networking apps, he has the basics of where most people are but the other apps that entertain certain niches intrigue him. Though you didn’t have all the answers, he was sure he’d leave this restaurant knowing more than before. He finds out that your passion for baking and making different types of coffee came after you saw Wooyoung struggle juggling his dance team and studies. The daily expenses of buying coffee eventually build up over time so you take matters into your own hands. Now, you’ve got a shop up and running and the rest is pretty much history. He respects you for that. The Archon also realizes that perhaps San was right with this restaurant. Another restaurant to add to his options in the days to come. 

The rest of the dinner goes well, lasting for two hours before the two of you decide to leave and walk around somewhere quiet. Somewhere that the two of you could get away from the constant bustle of modern life. 

The walk to the quieter side of the city was a fruitful one. The conversation between the two of you never stops as each of you try to understand each other-- especially with you trying to understand his roots along with his riches. “So, you being.. An archon.. Is that how you were able to get that apartment?” You understand that he’s not quite immortal, having the ability to die as well but he does have the ability to live longer than most. You learned that gods can die, but deaths caused by humans have resulted in violent natural happenings.

“Yes and no.” He answers with a slight tilt of his lips. “Some of the objects from the historical collection are mine but I had to pull some legal strings to make the public think it’s from someone else, and for the stockholders to continue funding the museum. Some of them have been bought and sold through me to older gods and Archons who have passed on, some archaic family clans as well and so on.” He hints towards other groups with money that have helped fund his museum and keep them safe, though through less than morally ethical means. Simply put, the museum has helped him amass a big fortune with one part going to his anonymous safety for reasons and the other parts going to other necessities of the community around him.  

Something stirs in you to explain something to him. “I suppose I owe you a story as well.” You admit softly. You start to tell him about your family life, how you grew up in a family that was passionate about their jobs: your father, a historian while your mother was a fairly known ceramist who also had a passion for what your father pursued. It’s through the attempts of recreating the pottery of the past that made their names fairly well known in those days-- also making you have a keen interest and skill in the history and the arts. Your father came across certain writings, unfamiliar to the academe but familiar to those who were interested in the taboo. He and your mother got too close, from what you understood. The pursuit of making connections and knowledge cost them their life. They made sure you were safe from everything, keeping you hidden from the perpetrators. 

Wooyoung’s parents were close to yours, it took forever in a child's mind before they found you, hiding in a closet with the Regalia in your small hands. Once they found you, they made sure you didn’t see the aftermath. Their urns rest in a quiet columbarium out of town. Since then, you grew up with Wooyoung’s family. It’s not the same as having your actual parents grow with you but they did their best to step into their roles for you and for Wooyoung. “It’s been years, and I’ve learned to cope with the absence so please, don’t worry about me.” You reassure him. You’ve been so accustomed, so annoyed with the looks of pity given to you by others who know this story-- which are usually by word of mouth. 

He lets his eyes wander around the scenery in front of him. The way the lights bounce against the water, the quiet hum of people milling about by the water. His eyes catch sight of a small family letting their kids play about by the water. The way you talk about your family makes him wonder how you were like when you were younger. The you he knows now is different from the you Wooyoung has known since he was a child. You don’t step into the same river but water always passes where it came from. Simply put, you are still you. Heavens be damned, because he’s enamored by you.  

As you tell your stories, your eyes catch a glimpse of the same family. There’s something in your chest that twists that you cast your eyes downward. The flowers were still in your arms, you didn’t want to leave it in the stale air of the car. 

He sees you look down at the flowers, your fingers fiddling with the wrapping and some of the petals. “Feel free to ask questions about them, my dear.” 

Giving you that green light to ask immediately had you talking. “Okay, first question, How? I thought this didn’t exist anymore?” You remember the first dinner you had with him, how he bought a painting of the said flower and told you how rare it was. So how did he manage to get an actual one?

He finds a bench, away from people that were there for perhaps the same reasons as the two of you. He pats the spot next to him for you to sit down as well to which you oblige. Once you do so, he looks up at the sky, seeing the faint shimmers of the stars above. The waters will continue to move to a near unrecognizable state yet the stars no matter how much they move, they still look the same. The man next to you tries to figure out his words, but eventually he just decides to say it plainly. “I had the same thoughts as you, about its existence. San was the one who notified me of its reemergence. He found it growing in the museum’s garden, in full bloom every night.” 

  You stare at the lone blooming flower in your hands, wondering if there’s more in the garden, but one question suddenly nags at you. “Why did you give it to me when you’re heavily attached to this flower?” You were flattered, you can’t deny that-- a rare flower from someone who has been fluttering your heart? That was a unique way to be courted Yet, the lapse in thought bothers you, a rare flower that he obviously holds dear to him, given to you? What made him think of this? 

“They were someone dear to me as well.” He starts. His voice takes on a more sober tone, making sure you were comfortable leaning on his shoulder. “A dear immortal as well, just like San and I.” It takes a few moments of silence for you to understand the gravity of their relationship. “They were someone well loved by the people, taught them how to handle resources on an economic point of view with other regions, taught them handiwork beyond that of warfare, a lot of things that were out of my field to put it simply..” He has already accepted and forgiven himself of his shortcomings to become someone like them at that time. “Their favorite flower is this, my love.” He says, his fingers fiddle with the edge of its wrapper. “Everyone associated it with them.” Despite the harsh cold that ice gives, it was also a time for trust. When it was too cold, they’d make shelter out of ice and various twigs and fur. If it was too hot, they provided them with cool winds. It’s why the Neve Jewel glows as such, depending on the season. 

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t protect them at their time of death.” His eyes stay still at the river that quietly flows past them. “Their last wish to me was to make sure the people survive the journey. Weird isn’t it? The god of water protecting the followers of Ice.” He rests his temple against yours. “Eventually after their passing, Neve Jewels ceased to exist. Until you came along.”

“Yeosang?”

“Mm?” 

“What if I’m not them?” 

“Yeosang, you know you need to be prepared to accept the fact they might not be your previous lover.” 

It’s a question he’s considered since he met you. He admits, it wasn’t easy to consider accepting that you might not return. He remembers the concern in San’s face when he was still so hopeful. 

“Of course, grief never leaves you. It always stays with you, you eventually learn how to live with it.” He tips his head in thought, acknowledging the weight of the concern.

You didn’t want to cry here: not when the date was going so well. A soft chuckle leaves your lips to loosen up the tight feeling in your chest. “Mhm, I guess so.” It’s a half hearted answer you have to admit but it was better than letting the silence cue the tears. 

“But if you let me, I’ll still love you the same.” 

A deep breath loosens the pulsating pain in your head from the unshed tears. “I guess life does work weirdly.” You add under your breath, leaning against his shoulder as you fiddle with the wrapping of the gifted flower. 

He readjusts himself to make sure you don’t get uncomfortable. There’s something in your words that tells him, it would be better to shift the topic. “I’m a little disheartened that i never got to tour you around the museum but that’s alright, one of these days, I’ll bring you around, show you my favorite works and tell you some stories behind them.” 

“I’d like that, sounds like you got a lot you’d like to share too.” You muse softly, taking in the scent of nature and him. 

“I catch you lingering by the entrance sometimes.” Even though he has invited you and Wooyoung to stay in the museum’s offices with him for the sake of safety, you’d just linger by the souvenirs. You remember Wooyoung proposing the idea of having a small shop next to the souvenirs, but you shot it down. It’s not because you don’t think it’ll do well but because who else will manage the shop? Hongjoong’s a good candidate but until you’re certain he’ll stay after this mess. 

With how everything is going, you wonder if he finds time to rest. “Please, you’ve got a lot on your plate. I’d rather not add to that, Yeosang.” You say with a breathy laugh of embarrassment. 

“You know that I don’t mind your presence.” He’s been spending his hours with you after work for the past few months. “I wouldn’t have asked you on a date, if I did mind.” He tilts your chin gently to look at him. 

His eyes, holy shit, you could drown in how they look: shades of blue with hints of green and streaks of white. The ocean resides in this man and you’d be damned if you didn’t feel yourself melt in his touch. “If it still isn’t obvious, my dear, I would like to ask you, if you are willing to be my lover?” 

Something flashes at the corner of your eye, and it’s coming straight at you.

[maschotch]

Pressing question: Hotch, Strauss, hate sex - yes or no?

hm. no.

i joke ab it in the tags all the time, but its purely jest

i dont think hotch would survive proper hatesex with strauss. she'd get out the double plug strap

[40sbarnes]

Medici: Spymasters of Florence

Chapter 12: Out of Luck

hope you enjoy this chapter! we are finally getting some actual lorenzo x reader content lmao

pairings: lorenzo x reader (fr), francesco c reader (friends)

tag list: @brynthebulldozer @mythicalamphitrite @nana035 @valravnsraven @hannahhistorian92 @not-thatweird @isaac-lahey-is-bae @angrygardendeer <3

“May I ask," your attention was pulled to Lorenzo by his words, "why the sudden change of heart?" His interest appeared genuine, no ulterior motive. You had halted your journey as night began to fall, the horse needing the rest more than either of you. You stood across from each other in the tavern room you were holed up in for the night. It wasn't as if you could rent two rooms without suspicion, especially with you being a woman.

"The truth?" You sighed, your fingers pulling at the strings of your cloak. Lorenzo hummed as a reply, eyes watching you intently. You didn't see a reason to lie to Lorenzo anymore, and he was the only person you could truly talk to this about anyways. "I delivered the message to Orsini today," Lorenzo's lips parted, but he didn't say anything, "for Pazzi. Orsini didn't take any notice of course. I knew you'd taken care of it." Worry flashed throughout your eyes for a second, realising Lorenzo might be upset you didn't double check with him.

"That must have been difficult," he took a step towards you, still leaving plenty of space, "but what you did was not in vain, y/n, not then, not now." He reassured you, you were surprised that was where his mind had gone.

You just nodded slightly, now holding your cloak in your arms, as if you were a child holding their favourite blanket. "So you came with me because...?" Lorenzo pried.

"Because you were right," you hated admitting it, "a break wouldn't kill me. Perhaps the opposite..." A soft grin fell onto Lorenzo's lips, "and because right now, I don't feel like being around the people I care for," you were precise with your words, not quite meaning the harsh intent they held. But you didn't wish to be around Francesco or Guglielmo as of right now. The guilt would seep right out of you and into their fingertips, ready to be dropped into their Uncle's lap.

Lorenzo chuckled slightly, looking down at the ground as he raised his eyebrows. "I see. I know the feeling."

"I didn't-" you weren't quite sure what to say, or why you cared that you might've offended him, "what of your predicament? Any more rejections from noble women?" You settled on changing the subject instead.

He laughed again, standing taller as he thought of an answer, "Not yet. But I fear my mother’s mind has settled on marriage now. It only makes sense now that I'm head of the family, but I guess I'd never truly considered it before," he shrugged, resting his hand on the end of the bed frame.

"Because of Lucrezia Donati?" You pushed, intrigued. He seemed taken aback, clearly not used to people being so brazen with him.

"I knew I could never marry Lucrezia. Honestly that might've been the beauty of it," he kicked off his shoes as he uttered the statement, acting as if it was a casual thing to say.

"I suppose I hold some fortune in that, then," you pushed your hair off your shoulder, setting your cloak down on the bed, sitting beside it. Lorenzo moved onto his over shirt once he was finished with his shoes, shooting you a glance to tell you to elaborate.

"For all your riches, and lack of mine, at least I needn't worry for my standing, or marriage, for the most part," your eyes couldn't meet Lorenzo's, so they fell to your lap. You didn't have a family to sell you into marriage, and although one day you may be forced to convince some poor man to take your hand, you were doing a good job of preventing yourself from that fate for now. You knew most women weren't as lucky, and you did well not to take your situation for granted.

"The most part?" Lorenzo questioned, his tone serious as he sat to your right on the opposite side of the bed, you lying down to stretch out your legs.

"Well, it's only a matter of time before you convince me to give you my hand in some scheme," you teased, still slightly in disbelief he'd gotten you on this trip.

Lorenzo scoffed, not enjoying your joke. "What a deluded thing to say," he shook his head. You furrowed your brows, turning your torso fully to face him.

"The reason my mother is pushing me to marry is for noble blood. Not for whatever runs through your veins," he spoke the words as if they weren't dripping with venom.

You turned away from him, "A simple jest, Lorenzo. Not everything has to be about how I am so very much beneath you," in that moment, it was pure hatred running through your veins.

"Y/n- please, we both know you'd never marry me, I was simply-" he began, you closed your eyes, as if it would shut out his horrid voice.

"You're right. I could never be so lucky," you squeezed your eyes shut tight, "all this talk of how I'm such a peasant has truly tired me out. If you would please let me sleep...goodnight Lorenzo."

Silence ensued. Your anger soon subsided, and you felt yourself drifting, sleep guiding you away from that small room.

Lorenzo's voice was the quietest you had ever heard it, but it filled the air nonetheless. "I'm sorry. It is I who is out of luck."

You didn't have the energy to respond, not that you even had a response.

—-

You woke at the crack of dawn the next morning, finding the blankets had been placed over you. You spun on your side, looking for a sign of Lorenzo. The chair across the bed was empty, as was the bed beside you. You sat up, worry setting in, until you saw his messy locks resting on the bottom of the bed. You glanced over him, he was resting against blankets, sitting on the floor. You felt bad for a fraction of a second, before you recalled the events of last night.

Carefully, you rose from the bed, doing your best not to disturb Lorenzo. You truly didn't feel like talking with him just yet. Instead, you opted to retrieve your cloak from where it had fallen on the floor, and replaced it around your shoulders. You danced across the room, reaching the door without a noise, only to slam it after you. You hoped it would wake him up, and he could get ready without you having to wait, and put up with his presence.

You skipped down the steps of the inn, making it outside to take in the colours of the sunrise. You breathed in the fresh air, before heading to the stables, going to check on Callus. Lorenzo didn't know the horse’s name, which shocked you, so you'd insisted on naming the helpful creature. You gave him a quick pat, not used to dealing with horses.

"Heading out already?" The stable girl appeared beside you.

"Yes, must make the most of the day," you acted with an air of class, the girl just grinned up at you, before climbing over the gate to the horses.

"I'll get her ready for ya," she began saddling 'her'. You had assumed it was a male, from all Lorenzo's 'faster boy’s as he pushed the horse to go faster. Now you weren't sure Callus quite fit. You stopped your trail of thought before it could completely escape you, and your eyes fell back on the girl as she worked. You were going to Venice. It would be easier to run away from there, you'd already have so much distance down. You could perhaps become like this girl? She didn't seem so miserable. Definitely much happier than you currently were. You didn't have long to consider your thoughts as a stressed Lorenzo came flying out the inn. He was notably in a different outfit than yesterday, clearly having packed for the trip, unlike you. He slowed his pace as he caught sight of you.

"Good morning," you greeted him, leaned on the fence.

"I thought you'd run off," he lowered his voice, speaking through gritted teeth.

You swallowed, feeling slightly guilty as you watched the tension in his back dissipate, relief washing over him. You hadn't done it of course, just thinking about it constantly.

"And you'd care?" You seethed, not looking his way.

Lorenzo stood back, straightening his clothes as he did, he had clearly put them on in a rush. "Clearly."

You spared him a glance, his eyes burning into your own, and you were unable to look away.

"I need you, y/n," your heart froze, his face was but inches from yours, "you're integral to the plan," you turned back to watch the stable girl, moving away from him.

"Well, I'm here," you spoke, your voice flat. Lorenzo continued his stare until Callus was ready, and you both stepped back from the gate to let it creak open. The reigns were handed to Lorenzo, and he began attaching his bags to the saddle.

"Thank you," you took the stable girls hand into yours, sliding a few coins into it before closing it over as Lorenzo paid no notice.

She bowed slightly, "You are more than welcome, Madonna," that caught Lorenzo's attention, his gaze falling onto you once again, before he straightened out the saddle, getting ready to mount.

The young girl took your hold on her hand to pull you in closer, "I wish my betrothed looked at me the way your husband does," she made sure to keep her voice low. You stifled a laugh at the irony, until your heart sank in realisation.

"Your betrothed?" She seemed far younger than yourself, nowhere near the age for marriage.

She nodded, "Well, in two years, when I am of age," the pain in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by you.

"He won't look at you the same. He will treat you with far more respect than I am given," you promised her, not wanting her to idealise whatever your relation to Lorenzo was.

"Y/n," as if on cue, Lorenzo's name fell from your lips, although not as harsh sounding as usual.

The girl shot you one last sad smile, before she returned to her work and you yours.

Facing back to Lorenzo, he assisted you onto Callus, before pulling himself up. He took the reins into his hands and you continued your journey without another word.

—-

You came to a stop once again in a town just outside Venice. All three of you were hungry, and the sun had yet to reach its peak. Lorenzo was planning on attending the banquet for Vitelli’s grandson’s birth, a celebration of the continuation of the bloodline, which wasn't until tonight. You had plenty of time.

Once you had found Callus a safe stable to rest in, you led Lorenzo to the centre of the town, where the market was bubbling.

"You wouldn't find these in Florence," you nudged Lorenzo slightly from where you stood in front of the blacksmith, half teasing as you knew his love for your city, but also in awe at the swordsmanship.

He smirked at your words, also admiring the fine blades. "I'd like to see their art," he bragged, always finding a way to one up.

"Maybe this is it," you suggested, marvelling at the different daggers.

"Come along, I'm starved," he spoke after a moment. You did as he said, as your hunger was getting the best of you also.

You soon found a seedy public house, not much different from the Florentine ones. Lorenzo bought you both meals, and you picked away at it, trying your best to ignore the rowdiness of your fellow customers.

"Is that the only gown you brought?" Lorenzo questioner, motioning to the dress you were wearing.

You nodded, swallowing the food you were chewing before replying. "I truly hadn't planned on joining you."

"It won't do for the banquet. You'll be serving drinks by the end of the night," you bit back all the horrid remarks you wished to make, about Lorenzo and his constant condescension.

"Well sorry, your highness, an arrogant man burnt my banquet gown," you huffed.

Lorenzo grinned as he held back a laugh, "I do apologise for that. But that doesn't change our current circumstance. We'll have to get you a new gown. Hopefully this town’s dressmaking holds up to their forgery."

You just nodded, feeling odd about the situation. Pazzi had loaned you a fancy gown once or twice before for similar purposes, the idea wasn't foreign to you, but it felt particularly peculiar with Lorenzo. Especially with last night’s conversation still fresh in mind.

—-

You stepped out of the fitting room, feeling incredibly vulnerable in the dress. It was half an inch too tight, making you stand up that little bit straighter to hold your poise. Your shoulders were bare, and you were oddly aware of the cool air around them. The dress was quite plain, a deep crimson colour, the sleeves falling to your wrists, where they hung wide around them. The skirt was much more constricting than you were used to, and you imagined if you were to don your usual blade on your thigh it would make for a terrible silhouette.

You stood in Lorenzo's line of sight, and he sat up taller from where he was slouched in his chair. He surveyed you for a moment, before his gaze switched to the seamstress beside you.

"Doesn't she look splendid?" The seamstress asked, pushing for her sale. You had stumbled upon her small shop after you'd eaten.

"Danger often takes shelter in beauty," he mused, sharing a grin with you, the tailor barely taking notice. "How much?"

[ranishoo]

7 for leslie and devlon do it you wont

oh fuck yeah

7. First words vs last words

First words:

Leslie felt sore. She felt hot. The ground was shifting around her. Her eyes were closed, yet light still poured in, tinting her vision red. Until it went dark again. But she was still awake, wasn't she? She tried to open her eyes, but they were far too heavy.

Fingers pressed against her neck and the weight she previously felt was gone in an instant, replaced by pure adrenaline. She shot upright with a yelp, her forehead meeting something solid that sent her back down to the ground, groaning and clutching her head. And someone else was groaning too.

Leslie opened her eyes, having to rub and blink them many times to fight the bright sunlight and a strange irritation, to find herself looking at a man sitting not too far from her. He was tall, lean but well-built, with dark skin and long dark hair, with what looked to be a side shave, or maybe a long mohawk? He too was rubbing a hand on his forehead.

"Oh god," Leslie began, "did I hit you? I-" She stopped, noticing for the first time where she was. What she was sitting on. What she had rubbed out of her eyes. Sand.

Sand?

All around her was pits of sand, dry patches of dirt and dead brush, and what might be the oldest looking ruins she'd ever seen. What the fuck? She'd just been in the Felsan foothills, surrounded by trees and rocks; what was she doing here? What was going on, and who was that man?

Leslie turned her attention back to the stranger, only to notice he had recovered and stood up, walking back over to her. He said something to her, but she couldn't make out what. She gave him a confused look, and he paused for a moment before repeating himself. Was he speaking Kett? Some of the words sounded familiar, but she couldn't fully comprehend their meaning.

The man scratched his head for a moment, and Leslie noticed two large fangs protruding from his lips. A vampire? No, he was in broad daylight, that would be stupid. Maybe a galik, then? She couldn't see his eyes, the slitted draconic pupils usually a dead giveaway, so she couldn't tell for sure.

"Ah..." the man started, his tenor voice hesitant and slow. "You... alright?"

So he knew a bit of Domian. It didn't seem like much, but at least it was something. Leslie still hoped he'd been speaking Kett before, and that she just hadn't understood through his accent; she at least knew a few phrases and random words in the language, so even if he barely knew Domian she might be able to ask him some questions.

The man cleared his throat.

"Oh! Um, yes? Sort of? Uh... sorry, where am I?" She attempted to stand, but her legs protested with possibly the worst cramps she'd ever felt, and she promptly landed back on the sand, writhing in pain.

Her eyes pinched shut, Leslie heard the man frantically calling in his language as he rushed toward her. Then in Domian, "Alright? Alright?"

It took her a moment to collect herself, but she remembered to stretch out her legs and gritted her teeth, working the cramp out. "I... yeah, yeah I am." Still on the ground, she held out a hand to shake his and gave him a pained smile. "I'm Leslie."

He stared at her for a moment, seemingly baffled. Then, slowly, he took her hand and cautiously helped her to her feet. Alright, not what she'd intended, but that was fine. She looked up at him, meeting his bright golden eyes partially obscured by the hair he had yet to brush out of the way. Slitted, just like a dragon.

"I am Delvon."

Last words:

Lucas clung to his arm as Delvon hoisted the saddlebag onto his horse, lifting the boy off his feet for just a moment. "Please don't go, Papa!" He looked at the child, his brown and gold eyes looking like that of a dog watching you eat a juicy steak. That boy had mastered the art of begging, and it took all of Delvon's strength not to scoop him up and bring him inside, foregoing the journey altogether.

He sighed. "Would you prefer I stay home and not hunt, and we go hungry for the winter?"

The boy groaned. "You could at least bring me along, I'm old enough now! Look!" He held up his tag, showing the snake fang to his father. It was galik tradition for a child to keep the fang from their first solo hunt and turn it into a necklace, a badge of pride and a sign that they were beginning the journey to adulthood. Over Lucas' life, Delvon would have the privilege to add more to the tag as his son developed his skills, and he could already tell he'd have to go searching for purple and red beads to mark the boy's prowess in vinum and impes magic. Clearly a trait he got from his mother, as Delvon still struggled on the rare occurrence when he did use his magic.

Sighing again, Delvon ruffled Lucas' curly brown hair with his free hand, a smile teasing his lips. "You have to stay home and protect the farm, remember? Mama and Kala can't do it all by themselves."

Lucas let go of his father's arm and crossed his own, pouting. "Mama could protect the farm all by herself! She's told me all about her adventures; she could keep the farm safe with both her hands tied behind her back."

The smile was still on Delvon's face, but it turned a bit more stern now. "Alright, then you're staying home to help with the harvest. The frost is coming soon, remember?"

Another groan from the boy, resigned this time. "Fine," he grumbled, "but next year I get to go hunting with you and Uncle."

Delvon rolled his eyes. "I make no promises, but I'll think about it. Now, where's your mother?"

Lucas pointed toward the house, where he'd left the door wide open when he chased after his father. Delvon started toward it, sighing. When would that boy learn that the purpose of their hearth wasn't to heat the outdoors? He stepped into the house, waiting for the boy to scramble past him before he shut the door, welcoming the warmth of his home after just a few short minutes out in the chilly morning air.

Leslie was in the kitchen, looking like she had barely just woken up as she nursed a mug of tea and attempted to keep her eyes from falling shut. She looked up from the drink to see Delvon in the doorway and she smiled, laugh lines crinkling to make her face look all the more beautiful. Her red hair was pulled back into a barely contained ponytail, curls flying everywhere to give her a frazzled look. Delvon walked over and smoothed her unruly locks, kissing the top of her head as he did.

'Somebody's a sap this morning,' he sensed her thinking, and he looked at her face to see her smirking at him.

"Perhaps I am," he shrugged, planting a quick kiss on her lips. 'Keep an eye on Lucas when I leave,' he thought, 'I think he might try to follow me this time.'

'He's been failing at that for the past two years,' Leslie replied, hiding a chuckle lest Lucas hear and ask what they're "mind-talking" about. That boy needed to come up with a better term for it; not that she had one, but it took all her willpower not to roll her eyes whenever he said the word. They'd explained tethering to both Lucas and Kala, and while Kala seemed to understand just fine, Leslie wondered if Lucas quite got the concept.

'He'll get it eventually,' Delvon said, interrupting her as he took a sip of her tea, 'he's just young.'

'For now,' she replied, taking the mug back, 'but how are you gonna feel when he gets older than you?'

She said it in jest, but the words gave Delvon pause. He had thought about this before; while he was full galik, they were only half, and they aged much faster than he did. In only sixty years they'd almost reached teenagehood, something that had taken Delvon well over two hundred years. Not to mention Leslie, who wasn't a galik at all. She was in her eighties, although she didn't look it. They wondered if it was the dwarf blood or her strong connection with magic that kept her looking half her age, but neither could figure it out.

Delvon knew what he had been signing up for when he married her; he knew he would outlive her by at least a thousand years, and he had accepted that. But it didn't make it easier to see the signs of age show on her, however slow they may appear. And to see his children grow up so quickly, while he'd seemingly not aged throughout their entire lifetime. He didn't know how he'd handle the years to come, when he was by their deathbeds, still a young man, and it terrified him. What would he do after they were gone?

His thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his cheek. "Hey," Leslie softly said, "you know I love you, right?"

Delvon closed his eyes and placed his own hand on top of hers, pressing his cheek into her palm. He allowed the sensation of his love and care to flow through their link, letting it wash over his wife. She shared hers with him in return, and the two stood there for a quiet moment, eyes closed as they basked in each other's affection.

As soon as the moment had started, it was over, and Delvon opened his eyes, slightly dazed. Leslie's eyes were similarly glazed over, and the two made eye contact for a moment before laughing. The overwhelming sensation they'd just shared left them both a bit stunned, and neither had really gotten used to that feeling.

A knock on the door interrupted them, setting their dog off. Sawyer rushed to the door, barking his head off, his tail wagging frantically. He knew who was on the other side.

"Settle down, boy!" Delvon called fruitlessly, more for his own benefit than anything else. Nothing could stop that damn dog from barking.

Leslie placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "You off, then?"

"It would seem so."

"You better bring us back lots of game, you hear? Oh, and preferably some animal with good bones; we need new tools."

The man snorted. "Alright, necromancer, I'll find you your precious bones."

She smacked him on the shoulder, rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean, asshole. And no getting gored by a buck or a boar or anything. I've already had to patch you up enough for one lifetime; I don't wanna do it again."

Once again, Delvon kissed her on the head, taking his sword off the shelf they'd built high above the children's heads. "I promise I won't get stabbed if you promise you won't let the kids poke your eyes out with the rake."

"Yeah, yeah, I promise."

"I love you!"

"Love you too, Del."

Delvon opened the front door, smiling as he saw his brother on the other side. Sawyer rushed out to sniff Rochil's feet, his entire body squirming from excitement, and the three of them walked toward the horses. When Delvon mounted, he turned back to look at his home, seeing his wife standing in the doorway, waving to him. He saw Lucas peek his head out from behind his mother, and from a window upstairs he could see the tired face of Kala watching out the window as she waved goodbye. Delvon raised a hand to them and Rochil shortly followed. Then the two tapped their horses with their heels, setting on down the road, Sawyer trotting alongside them.

[sageblogsthings]

[image description: a map, brownish-yellow with age, fills the background. the text over the image reads “Dust, Drams, & Dragonsblades” in white all-caps font. /end id]

Dorian walked through the lower town, passing shop after shop as they closed for the night, until he finally came upon an old, seemingly abandoned shack. A rusty sign dangled by a single chain above the door, the slightest breath of wind threatening to knock it loose. Squinting, Dorian could just make out the lettering on the sign: The Culterus’ Cup. With a smile, he leaned on the door, not so much pushing it open as pushing it aside, its hinges broken long ago. Warm light from the street-lamps outside filtered through the doorway, but was immediately swallowed up by the murky interior. The smell of dust, drams, and desperation seeped through the doorway and settled around Dorian’s boots.

Ah, the smell of alcoholics in the evening, he sighed. Seem’s like nothing’s changed.

He walked into the impossibly dark building, eyes squinting through the dust and cobwebs in search of a familiar face.

“Well my eyes must be failing me in my old age, or my mind is starting to go,” the voice brought an immediate grin to Dorian’s face. He wandered vaguely towards its source, dodging tables and uprooted floorboards by memory alone.

“Matthias,” he grinned. “It’s really me, somehow I’ve managed to not get myself killed.” He finally reached the source of the voice: a stout, rounded man with crinkled grey hair and eyes. His head barely cleared the bar behind which he stood, but he emanated such an aura of authority and confidence that you barely noticed.

“Hmm, small wonder that is,” Matthias grunted. “And not bound to stay that way for long from what I hear,” he peered at Dorian over golden spectacles in a way that was part concern and part disdain.

“Ah, so you heard about that?”

“I think half the town has heard about it at this point, my boy.” Dorian winced slightly.

“I really tried to stop them from making a mess of Tov’s place, damned mercenaries.”

“Is she okay?” the man feigned disinterest, but Dorian could see his brow crease ever-so-slightly in concern.

“Yeah, she’s fine. Apparently she knew the leader from before so he left her alone, he was really just after me anyways.”

“Wait, Tov knew him? That big brute everyone is scared of now?”

“Yeah, he got a room there a few nights back. She said he seemed like he was hiding something, but also that he seemed kind, just quiet, so she didn’t push it.”

“That sounds like Tov alright,” Matthias huffed. “Always seeing the best in people even when they’re hulking mercs.”

Dorian chuckled, “I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I also don’t want her getting in trouble because of me.”

“Ah, there it is,” Matthias grinned as he polished a glass.

“There what is?” Dorian asked, confused.

“The part where you ask me for something.”

Dorian blinked. “No getting past you is there? I thought you said that your eyes and mind were going.”

“Ha!” A deep laugh shook the bar-top. “You wish, Vispillo.”

“Wow, and just when I thought we were on a first-name basis!” Dorian pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “But yes, I do need your help. Mr. Galba,” he breathed out the last part in a conspiratorial whisper.

Matthias craned his head upwards, piercing Dorian with those inscrutable grey eyes. He stayed like that for several moments, and Dorian was beginning to lose hope. Maybe I should just turn tail and leave before I embarrass myself more.

“Of course I’ll help you, foolish boy. With the tab you still owe here, there’s no way I’m letting a bounty hunter get ahold of you.”

Dorian laughed, swooping an arm over the bar to give Matthias a half-hug. “Thank you!” He beamed. “And I will pay that tab, I promise.”

“Mhm, I’ll believe it when the coin is on this bar-top. Now, what do you need?”

“I’m looking for a man.”

“Ha! Nothing’s changed with you, has it Dorian?”

Dorian groaned. “The man who attacked me, Matthias.”

“Yes, yes I know. I’m just messing with you kid. Though from what I hear the man who’s after you isn’t exactly hard to look at.” Dorian shrugged, not denying it but refusing to say more on the matter.

“Apparently I have something that he believes belongs to him, or whoever employed him I guess, and he means to take it from me by force.”

“Okay, so it seems like a pretty easy solution, yeah? Give him back what you stole.”

“See, there’s the problem. I don’t know what I stole.” Matthias blinked over his glasses, once. Twice. He exhaled slowly, his brow creasing slightly as he did so.

“How—,” he paused, rubbing his forehead. “How do you not know what you stole? Were you that drunk when you stole it?”

“No!” Dorian paused in thought. “I mean, I was likely drunk but I still remember everything I’ve stolen lately. I keep a log and everything!”

“So just show this man the log and ask what’s his, right?”

“Assuming they don’t shoot first and ask questions later that could work. But finding the object isn’t what I need help with.”

“Astralis help me,” Matthias muttered into a calloused hand. “Would you just spit it out boy?”

“I’m trying! Okay, look, the problem is this: I have no idea who this mercenary band works for, where they’re from, who their devilishly handsome leader is, or where I can find them.”

“I knew you thought he was a looker,” Matthias grinned with  a wink. “But you realize none of that was a question, right? What do you want me to do?”

“Don’t be humble, Matthias. You know that most people come here for the tracking services, not the drink, right?”

Matthias stepped back from the bar at the affront to his drinks. Glancing around the bar, he saw dilapidated tables strung with cobwebs, small candles nearly burnt out, and scattered patrons meeting in corners in hushed whispers. A figure in a cloak stood near a wooden board with papers plastered across its surface. The top of the board read “Bounties & Warrants.” He turned back to Dorian to find the tiefling smirking at him.

“See? Nothing against your mead, it’s fantastic, but this is the place where criminals and lowlifes come to find out if they’re wanted yet.”

With a deep grumble, Matthias propped his arms on the bar-top. “Fine, you red demon, you’ve made your point,” the slightest glimmer in his eye told Dorian the insult was purely in jest. “So you want me to help you find this brute, then?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Fine. But only because the sooner we get them off your tail the sooner you can pay me all that gold you owe.”

“Oh come now, Matthias, you’re fond of me, just admit it.”

“You wish, devil.”

Dorian chuckled. “Here, this is all the gold I have right now. I’ll give you the rest later, I promise.” Matthias eyed the gold suspiciously, then turned his gaze upwards to the tiefling.

“Keep your gold for now. I don’t want you getting into even more trouble because you’re broke. You can pay me after we find him.”

“Aww, you big softie,” Dorian crooned, giving the top of Matthias’ head a light noogie, which earned him a deeply unsettling glare from the older man.

“Get off of me you damned tiefling. C’mon, we have work to do,” and with a huff he shuffled through a doorway behind the bar. Dorian stooped to clear it, and found himself in what seemed to be Matthias’ office. Despite how many years they had known each other, Dorian had never stepped behind the bar. He wasn’t really sure what he was expecting Matthias’ private quarters to look like, but somehow this fit. Papers scattered across every inch of the room, many of them looking important, candles burnt down to the last bit of wax decorating every available surface, maps and diagrams hanging and overlapping on even the tiniest fragments of wall space. It was chaotic, but somehow also cozy. Like Matthias, Dorian thought. Not that he would ever tell him that, at least not as long as he wanted to live.

Matthias perched behind his desk, eyes scanning back and forth across map so aged Dorian was surprised he could read it at all. Dorian perched on his tiptoes behind him, scanning the map over his shoulder.

“Could you stop that?” Matthias shot a half-hearted glare over his shoulder.

“Ah, sorry. I just — do you need help with anything?”

“No, just let me — wait,” the older man paused, scratching the salt and pepper (though mostly salt) scruff on the side of his head. “The mercenary leader, did he have any kind of crest or uniform or anything?”

Dorian inclined his head, nail pressing lightly into his temple as he tried to recall the encounter.

“No, I don’t think so. He was just wearing normal mercenary clothes I guess? He had a pretty heavy coat on though so I couldn’t see most of what was he was wearing.”

“His weapon didn’t have any embossings of a guild crest?”

“I mean I wasn’t exactly admiring the craftsmanship when he had it pressed to my jugular,” Dorian half-joked, earning a glower from Matthias. “But no—,” he coughed, “I don’t think so. Seemed like a pretty ordinary cutlass to me. And come to think of it, each of the mercs were wearing something different. Seemed like a bit of rag-tag group, didn’t think they were mercs at first honestly.”

“Hmm . . .,” Matthias trailed off in thought, glasses slipping down his nose. “That is odd. Most mercenary bands have to be approved by the Culterus’ Council. If this was just a randomly put together group, I don’t think there would be a way to track who hired them.”

“Well that’s fantastic,” Dorian huffed. “How are we—”

“I wasn’t finished yet,” Matthias waggled a finger to shush him. “If someone hired this mercenary band outside of the Culterus’ Council, they're either operating outside of the law or above it.”

“What are you suggesting, Matthias?”

“Well if they were operating outside the law they would probably be some kind of high-level criminal, a nihilimancer at worst. That seems unlikely though because hiring a mercenary band would just draw more attention to them when they could have attacked you directly.”

“So you think it’s someone operating above the law, then?”

“Likely, yes. A government official of some sort.”

Dorian’s brow furrowed heavily at this. A government official? What could he have done to piss them off?

As if reading his mind, Matthias stared up at Dorian over his glasses, grey eyes boring into golden ones. “Dorian, what the hell did you get yourself into?”

Dorian hunched over the desk, rubbing his face with both hands. “I—,” his voice cracked slightly, as though the full weight of the situation was bearing down on his throat. “I don’t know, Matthias.”

“C’mere, kid,” Matthias waved Dorian over to him and scooped an arm around his shoulder. “Listen, we’ll figure it out okay? And when we do we’re going to give those bastards what’s coming to them.” His voice was stern and gravely, but the twinkle of his eyes belied the slightest hint of compassion.

Dorian smiled lightly. “Thank you, Matthias, but —,” he paused, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “Me. Not we. I need your help finding them but I can’t ask you to come with me.”

The older man grumbled, “Dorian, if you think that you’re going alone to face an entire band of mercenaries—,” he was interrupted by Dorian vigorously shaking his head.

“I’ve handled worse. Besides, someone has to stay here and look after everything. Who’s going to help all the lowlifes and criminals find other lowlifes and criminals if you’re not here?” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t you have any Thieves Guild buddies you could ask?”

“I got kicked out of the Guild, remember? Besides, I don’t want anyone helping me with this. These mercs aren’t likely to forget a face and I’m not putting a target on anyone else’s back.” Dorian’s breath caught and he cast his eyes toward the floor. “I already hate that they know what Tov looks like.”

Matthias folded his arms over his chest. Dorian seemed determined to face this alone, but that didn’t mean he needed to face it entirely without help. “Fine. For the record though, I don’t like this at all.” Dorian seemed ready to cut him off again, but Matthias continued, “If you’re going alone, at least let me give you something that might make things a bit easier. Saved my skin a few times anyways.”

“I’ve already got a hip flask,” Dorian waved a crimson hand dismissively, but the smallest tug at the edge of his lips and the twinkle in his eye did not go unnoticed.

“Ha ha, ever the jokester. No you idiotic devil, it’s something that’s actually helpful.”

“Idiotic devil?” Dorian blinked in surprise, a grin spreading across his features. “I think that’s a new one, congratulations.”

Matthias huffed in response and crossed the room to rummage around one of the bookcases. After moving several papers, candles, and unsettlingly unidentifiable objects out of the way, he pulled a heavy leather chest from the shelf, heaving it onto the desk with a groan. Dorian peered over his shoulder as Matthias opened the chest, startled backwards a few steps when amber light poured out of the box and flooded the room around them.

“What the hell is in there?”

“You’ll see,” Matthias chuckled. He threw the lid back, completely bathing the room in the brilliant light. After muttering a soft incantation, the words of which Dorian couldn’t quite decipher, the glow died down and for the first time Dorian could see the contents of the chest. A dagger.

“That’s it? You’re giving me a tiny dagger when I have two perfectly good rapiers right here, a couple of daggers, and a handful of throwing knives already.” Matthias looked a bit unnerved at how many weapons Dorian could fit in clothing with no discernible pockets.

“Yes, it’s a dagger, but do you really think this is just a normal dagger? It’s enchanted.”

“Okay, and all of my weapons are poisoned. What’s your point?”

Matthias sighed, something he seemed to do a lot more of when Dorian was around. “You really have no knowledge of magical enchantments do you?”

“Nah, poison seems to do the job just fine so far.”

“Exactly. So far.” Matthias paused, hoping Dorian would understand the gravitas of his words. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with now, what you could be walking into. You need a weapon that will give you an edge in every situation.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll use your fancy dagger.” Dorian reached out  towards the chest, then paused, curling his fingers into his palm. “Uh, what does it do exactly?”

“It is a Dragonsbane blade. They can only be forged in the dying flame of a High Dragon. The gilding is made from the precious metals found in its heart, set into the hilt by a boiling tear shed in the dragon’s final moments.”

“Ha—,” Dorian crossed his arms over his chest and threw his head back, eyebrows arching up doubtfully. “I call bullshit. You really believe all those dramatic tales, Matthias? I had you pegged for more of a skeptic than that.”

“It’s not a dramatic tale, Dorian.”

“And how, exactly, would you know that?”

“I was the one who forged it.”

“Haha very funny, of course you were,” Dorian cackled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. When he looked back at Matthias, he saw the older man was staring straight at him, unblinking. “Wait. You’re not joking?”

“Nope. Why would I? I’ve got enough wild tales from running a bar, no point in making more of ‘em up.”

“But why —,” Dorian paused, rubbing his increasingly furrowed brow. “How — ?”

“I have a life outside of this bar, you know,” Matthias paused, then added “well, I used to anyways. But that doesn’t matter right now.”

“You can’t just drop something like that and then not tell me!” Dorian squawked. “Oh, yeah, I used to be a famous adventurer with a fancy dagger,” Dorian continued in a deep, rumbling voice, a rather terrible impersonation of Matthias. “Forged from the last breath and final fart of a dragon, but you don’t get to hear about that now, Dorian,” he scrunched his nose and pushed up an invisible pair of glasses as he finished his speech, giving Matthias the same deflated, exasperated look he often gave Dorian.

“Was that supposed to be me?”

“Who else would it be?”

“Well I don’t know but that was downright terrible. Good thing you don’t make a living doing street performances, you’d be poorer than you are now.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Dorian huffed. “Look, whatever, you can tell me about your grand adventure stories later I suppose. Now, would you please just explain why I need this dagger?”

Matthias huffed again, giving Dorian that look. Dorian had done a pretty good job of impersonating it if he did say so himself. “This dagger is incredibly powerful, I figured that much would be obvious. If —,” he paused “if this dagger tastes your attacker’s blood, its power grows stronger.”

“Okay, but what is its power? Does it suck the souls of men or something like that?”

“Now who’s the one believing dramatic tales?” Matthias smirked. “No, nothing like that. Because the blade was forged with the aid of a dragon, its power is tied to that of the dragons. In a moment of dire need, the spirit of the High Dragon from which this blade was borne will come to your aid. The more battle this dagger has seen, the more powerful of an ally you will have should you need it.”

“So you’re saying I should stab as many mercs as possible that way if I die I’ll at least have a dragon on my side?”

Matthias hung his head, rubbing his temples furiously. “Honestly, Dorian, just take one magic class. Just one.”

“Well, am I wrong?”

“Ye—,” he cut himself off. “I mean, no, not technically. The more blood the dagger collects the stronger the dragon will be. But I’m not saying that you should just stab people indiscriminately. That dagger has seen a fair amount of blood already, so if you do need the dragon to come to your aid, and I pray that it is an if, you do not need to worry about the strength it already possesses. I wouldn’t give it to you if all it would do is summon a weak dragonling spirit.”

“Wait, you’re giving this to me?”

“Lending!” Matthias spluttered, correcting himself. “Definitely lending. Please take care of it.”

“I’m messing with you, old man. But of course I’ll take care of it, thank you Matthias. I know I give you a hard time but I really do appreciate it.” A somber grin plastered itself across Dorian’s face as he spoke. “I hope that I won’t need to use this, but I do feel a bit safer knowing that I have the option.”

“Good, that’s all I wanted,” his eyes crinkled at the corners, imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know him well. “One more thing. I have some health poultices and some poisons, likely stronger than the stuff you’ve got anyways.” Before Dorian could protest, Matthias was shoving bottles, vials, and poultices of every color and size into his hands.

“Umm, Matthias?”

“Umm, Dorian?”

“Forgive me if the drink has gone to my head and I forgot this part of the conversation, but how exactly am I supposed to find this mercenary band? You’ve just given me a whole armful of supplies and nothing to find them with.”

“Oh, well I thought that part was obvioeus.”

“Obvious?” Dorian tried to gesture with his hands despite the delicate arrangement balanced on them. “Well enlighten me then, please.”

“You’re just going to wait for them to attack you again.” Matthias chuckled deeply as Dorian’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline.

“You—?” the words wouldn’t come. “You? Gave me a dagger? To defend myself with, but you want me to be a sitting duck for an entire band of mercenaries? How does that make any sense?”

“Dorian, they’re going to find you one way or another, that’s sort of their job isn’t it? If you go looking for them, you’re likely going to find them on a terrain they’re familiar with. If they come looking for you, there’s the slightest chance you’ll have the upper hand. The slightest chance that you’ll win this idiotic battle you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Oh,” Dorian breathed. “That — that actually makes sense.”

“I know. You really ought to stop underestimating me, boy.”

“Maybe after you tell me some of your tall tales I’ll take you a bit more seriously,” Dorian said with a wink.

The smallest smile pulled at Matthias’ lips. “When you bring that dagger back to me, how ‘bout that? We’ll have a pint to celebrate you not losing your life, and to commiserate you losing all your gold once you pay me back.”

“Sounds fair enough,” Dorian chuckled. “Thank you, Matthias, I really appreciate it. If I find out who hired them I’ll let you know.” Dorian began to walk out of Matthias’ office, but was stopped by a gravelly voice.

“Wait —,” Matthias fidgeted with a golden ring on his thumb. “Dorian. Please be careful.”

“Starting to sound like Tov, aren’t you?” When Matthias didn’t smile, he added, “I will. I promise.” He turned on his heel before he could change his mind, and strode towards the main entrance of the tavern, stuffing the various potions and poultices into the multitude of pockets hidden in his clothes. When he reached the door, he traced his chipped nails along its surface, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time he saw it. With a final huff, he stepped onto the lamplit street. Time to go get murdered, he thought with a forced smile, and set off across the cobblestones.

Arnora taglist:

@radiomacbeth | @aetherwrites | @ezrathings | @avi-burton-writing | @svpphicwrites | @spillme | @isherwoodj | @melpomeny​ | @alicewestwater​ | @ladywithalamp​ | @shadescrawls​ | @guulabjamuns​ | @alexsidereus​ | @chloeswords​ | @discreet-writer​ | @sunwornpages​ | @donghyeuck​ | 

[frogocado]

A Golden Labyrinth of Noise Part 5 (Damien Haas au)

These past two weeks since the last chapter have felt like two dang months, you guys. With all this negative stuff happening, I’m v grateful to have a place for me to channel things into writing and making people smile. A shorter word count this time, but I think you’ll be pleased with it. Remember that reblogs help out creators a lot!

Begin the series here. Warnings: none Tag list (please message me if you’d like to be added): @latenlghtdevil, @star-mum, @thegigglehutsbonkyjilliams, @wierdlywonderful, @damiien-haas Word count: 1.6k.

5. Calypso

Two voices carried up the hill to the mausoleum. It was a windless night in the kingdom and both young men were still adjusting to the silence in the graveyard as their boots carried them up and up. After the first escape, Damien made sure to carry conversation on while they were surrounded by graves and mementos, as if talking cemented him in the current reality.

As Knight Topp pulled his chain plate back on, Damien was leaning against the stone chamber of the mausoleum. “Who is that bar maiden? Not the blonde one,” He questioned, glancing over at the Knight.

“Which one?” Knight Topp responded. “At the Lion?”

“No, at the apothecary,” Damien rolled his eyes, a hand ruffling through his hair. “Of course at the Lion, Shayne.”

Knight Topp was still not used to the prince calling him his first name. It had been about a month since they had begun their escapades out of the castle walls and each time, Damien seemed to be just as—if not more so—enthralled by the village beneath the castle. He always insisted that Knight Topp stand or sit right next to him, as if their statuses were dashed in the wind the moment the King had assigned the Knight to his side. The Knight considered that this was all because of suspicion until the Prince had started to insist that Knight Topp walk side by side with him even within the castle grounds.

“I don’t know that much.”

As Knight Topp adjusted his plates, he watched Damien’s eyes narrow in his peripheral vision. “You must know something,” the Prince continued. “I know you don’t frequent other taverns as much as Moss’s place, you said it yourself.”

“I don’t know that much about her, honestly.” Knight Topp rose, his armor and bones both creaking as he stood. With Damien’s help, they pulled the loose board over their escape route free. “She came about half a year ago. She sings every month.”

The Prince nodded thoughtfully as Knight Topp began his descent into the tunnel. He didn’t speak again until he had climbed in after his Knight and their boots fell in step back toward the castle. “You know nothing more?” The Prince prodded, glancing over at the other man. “Not even her name?”

Knight Topp thought for a moment, realizing he never actually heard David call her anything but “caged bird” or “siren.” He pulled at the threads of his memory, tracing them back to a time just before he had met the prince. He had gone to the Lion with Apprentice Grossman after a particularly hard day for the young lad. Courtney had been joking with the two of them when the other bar maiden had finally come around the other side of the bar, bumping shoulders with the blonde. The Knight had noted the way that Courtney’s smile grew wider when the maiden had appeared, a laugh immediately lacing her breath before the other even spoke.

Damien’s left boot dragging dirt in the tunnel under the village pulled the Knight back into reality. “Y/N,” he answered definitively, turning to watch the Prince.

Damien was watching his feet but Knight Topp still saw his eyes glint, the corners of his mouth creeping up into a smile. “Y/N,” he repeated, humming with curiosity. The Prince’s hand was skimming the stone walls, fingertips moving along like he was tracing familiar symbols.

The Prince hummed soft melodies that filled the space with warm notes. The Knight hadn’t realized why the tune had sounded so familiar until they reached the heavy door that led back into the castle. “My friend, I have a favor to ask you,” Damien said softly. He had stopped walking and turned, facing Knight Topp straight in the face. The young man never got used to meeting his Prince’s eyes, no matter how often Damien tried. His gaze always wavered away, even when there was no one else but the two of them.

Once, in the library, Damien stared at his friend for a full two minutes and timed how long his friend met his in return. The Knight had grown so frustrated with the game, he had left the section.

“What is it?” Knight Topp asked, eyes flickering away from the other man.

Damien, the twisted prince, smiled at how quickly he could get his friend to flinch. What a fun game, much better than when he would play hide and seek in Sir Overshire’s maze. Damien was still learning Knight Topp’s limitations like dead end hedges.

“Don’t include any mention of Y/N in your reports to my father.” Knight Topp’s eyebrows began to knit and Damien interrupted him before a single syllable could slip out of his now opened mouth. “Please, Shayne.”

Knight Topp could not recount a single time he had heard the king or queen say “please” to each other or others in the past two and a half months of serving under the crown. And yet, Damien would say the word and his thanks with a pure sincerity nearly every day. Even with Miss Takahashi, who was seldom ever speaking anything but mumbled curses and a series of grunts, was met with (petty jests but also) gratitude and appreciation from the prince.

“M-may I ask why, my prince?” Knight Topp’s voice entered the fray, a soft whisper as the prince’s hands landed on his shoulders. He could feel the weight of the request even through his chainmail.

“Because I am asking you, my friend. Shall I get on my knees and beg?”

“That’s hardly necessary,” the knight brushed off the prince’s hand, rolling his eyes. “It’s also not very princely. Would you like me to leave that out of my reports as well?” He was wondering now when Damien was going to wrap on the charade of the evening so he could retreat to his quarters and write about the past few hours. Miss Takahashi had brought Knight Topp a bundle of papers bound to leather covers a week prior, gruffly telling him it was a “gift from His Royal King Haas.”

The prince gave him a laugh shirk and stood in front of the door to the kitchens, folding his arms in front of his chest. “I may order you, if you’d prefer, but I thought you and I were past that line of thinking with one another.”

Knight Topp sighed, defeat escaping from his chest. “Fine, yes, fine. I’ve already committed enough treason to last my entire career and study as a knight—what’s something more?” He met the prince’s eyes, expecting him to be proud of his victory. Instead, Damien’s eyes were cast down on the ground, arms unfolding. The knight had never seen the prince so solemn and suddenly, he was struck with the realization that he had never once seen Damien’s face turn grave. “My friend?” Knight Topp gave a small offering, watching as Damien turned away from him, his hand on the oak door.

“I understand how this whole thing may seem jovial and silly to you.” The prince’s voice was soft, nearly swallowed into the wood. “I have never once felt free in my life. I am tied to my family, my privilege, my status. I know how that sounds, especially coming from me. There are so many expectations, so many rules. Everywhere I go, I am watched, but I cannot recall a time beyond the past few months that I have felt so seen.

I ask that you don’t include her in your reports because having her there binds another to my title. I have never heard someone sing with such freedom. I have never felt so…” Damien’s voice died in the air and he turned back to Knight Topp again, his expression fixed into an even serenity. Knight Topp was struck by this portrait of a true prince. Damien chewed on his lip and the Knight shifted, watching as he searched for the correct word. The prince had begun bringing Knight Topp his favorite books from the library, which they would discuss over breakfast. Knight Topp never knew there could be so many words.

“Infatuated,” the prince settled on.

The knight had heard this word many times, often in stories his mother would read to him before bed as a child. It was always in fairy tales, which the knight could not find more insufferable, but the wispiness in his mother’s voice calmed him into slumber that made the stories somewhat redeemed.

He found himself nodding as Damien’s eyes settled on his own. “I understand,” he said gently. “I shall keep her out of my reports, then.”

“Do you promise?”

Knight Topp scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I promise.”

Damien’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, my friend.” Or a moment, he thought about hugging the knight, but turned away to push the door to the kitchen open. “Shall we meet at the same time tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? Why so soon?” Knight Topp questioned, moving sacks and barrels back in front of the door once they were inside. Smells of seeded bread and remnants of dinner’s beef stew made his chest feel warm and calm, despite the break in routine that the prince had just suggested. They had only been leaving the castle at most twice a week.

“I must find a way to know more about her.” Damien shrugged out of his cloak, discarding it over the sacks. “I’m off to retire to my chambers. Have a pleasant sleep, my friend.”

Knight Topp’s boots felt as if someone had pasted them to the floor of the kitchen, watching the prince wave as his frame disappeared into the hallway. Even though most inside the castle were asleep, Knight Topp could hear Damien humming as he wandered to his room, the prince’s voice carrying like waves.

[averagedoctor]

I loveeeee your writing 🥰Can you do an 11th doctor x reader where he decides to take her ice skating and whilst he’s paying attention to I dunno the ponds (I love them 😂) it cracks and she falls though you can choose the ending -

Thank you!! So sorry for the wait on this, I hope you’re okay with gender neutral pronouns!

11th doctor x reader (+ Ponds)

Pronouns: gender neutral

Word count: 2,329

TWs: drowning

Tagging: @evyiione

Summary: A nice day at the local frozen lake turns out to be not as nice as expected…

A/N: Not edited because I’m lazy :’)

Cracks

The wind nipped at your face as you tightened the skates around your ankles. For once the four of you were all on Earth, present time. It had been a hassle to convince him to not travel, but you were all able to win him over. Amy had the perfect idea to visit a nearby lake that had frozen enough to skate over the winter. It was such a well known spot that they even placed a fenced along the side for people to grab onto as they started off. You glanced up as Amy laughed, her red hair billowing out behind her. Rory stood to the side, a small smirk on his face as he watched her try and lace up the Doctor’s skates. He claimed he had gone skating before, but that he just couldn’t get them tight enough. You could see even from your spot further down the bench that he was blushing, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked helpless.

“There you go.” Amy clapped his shoulder with a playful grin, lending a hand to help him stand. You awkwardly trudged over to the trio, skates dragging on the hard ground.

“Guess you’re all bark and no bite, huh?” You teased, nudging him in the arm.

“Oi! It’s been a while.” He shot back, wobbling.

“Hmmm.” You hummed, raising your eyebrows at Amy, who shook her head with a smile.

“Alright, let’s get onto the ice, everyone.” Rory called, collecting the merry band of friends as they paraded onto the ice. Amy and Rory grasped hands as they stepped onto the ice, a little shaky, but otherwise doing fine together. They wobbled with one another, managing to somehow keep their balance.

The Doctor stepped out carefully, grasping the fence with white knuckles. You filed in line behind him. It always took awhile for you to warm up first and you figured the Doctor also wouldn’t mind someone at his side as he got used to it.

“You’ll be fine.” You assured him, moving slowly behind him. He only nodded his head. Your gloves brushed the fence, barely, as you continued on. Your body was itching to start going faster, but you couldn’t just leave the Doctor. Meanwhile, Amy and Rory continued to whizz by, lapping the two of you many times over. Every so often they called out in jest, to which the Doctor replied with some facial expression of disgust. You could tell that he wanted to be able to skate without fear. “Come on.” You sighed and grabbed his hand with one of your gloved ones. Easing him away from his crutch, the two of you began to skate and ever so slowly started to make a  lap. After a couple, he was much happier than he had been and started to let go of your hand. You felt a burst of pride in your chest at that.

“You did it!” Amy yelled, switching to skate in line with you. She maneuvered over to the Doctor, dropping Rory’s hand.

“Finally, Doctor! We told you it would be fun.” Rory smiled, his feet seamlessly weaving in and out on the ice.

“Yes, yes, I know.” The Doctor said, dismissing the words with a flick of his hand. “You needed to let me get used to it!” He exclaimed, linking his arm with Amy’s.

“Oh, you’ve sealed your fate now, Doctor.” Amy’s eyes sparkled with glee as she nodded her head to Rory, who moved between you and the Doctor, to link up with his other arm.

“It’s go time.” He confirmed, and with that, the three of them began to charge off into a quick skate. The Doctor’s legs fumbled beneath him as he struggled to keep up with the sudden pace change.

“Oi! No! Y/N, save me!” He called out, trying to twist his head around to see you. You simply laughed and waved, skating away from them.

As Amy and Rory continued to mess with the Doctor, you took the opportunity to skate a bit farther than the spot you had stuck to. Out there, the ice looked so smooth compared to the chunky roughness of it from use where everyone else was congregated. There was a chance that it could be a bit thin, but it had been cold for forever so you figured it was safe enough. Besides, it’s not like you by yourself could do any real damage.

Immediately as you skated over you could feel the texture change with each passing inch. Soon, bumpiness gave way to pure levelness. Never had you felt anything so heavenly beneath your skates. The blades glided easily over the ice and before you knew it you were making laps in the crisp and clean section. The Doctor and Ponds continued to banter behind you and soon their talk faded from your mind, giving away to straight bliss. In fact, you were so lost in your head that you couldn’t feel or hear the cracks beneath your feet. Instead, you stared into the sky and then closed your eyes, letting yourself drift, figuratively and literally. Even when the ice started to dip and shift, you took no heed. It finally gave out with a not-so-resounding crack, sending you plunging down into the deathly cold water. Your breath left your lungs as you struggled to get your bearings, the water sticking your skin with needles from how cold it was. You weren’t safe even with all the layers surrounding your body, even more so with your face. Your eyes struggled to see clearly and you kicked uselessly, the weight of your skates and wet clothes dragging you further and further away from the surface. Air bubbles trickled up from your lips as your eyes fluttered. The cold was penetrating every part of you, making it hard to even think. Your limbs moved as if stuck in slow motion and you willed them to move to no avail. Your arms weakly pushed the water as your legs felt like dead weight, dumbly kicking water beneath you with the strength of a fly. You could only hope that someone noticed your fall as you drifted further down and steadily ran out of air, your lungs bursting out of your chest.

A large crash sounded throughout the impromptu skating rink and the Doctor was immediately on high alert. Heads whipped around, looking for the source. Rory let out a shout, noticing the hole in the ice where you were. Their skates all clambered over, panic creasing their faces.

“Y/N!” The Doctor yelled, his skates skidding as he slowed to a stop so he wouldn’t fall in.

“Doctor, what do we do?” Amy cried out, pushing her hair aggressively out of her face. His hands rose to his temples, gripping fistfuls of his hair.

“I’ll go in.”

“No, Doctor! That water is way too cold for anybody to survive for long, even someone not human like you!” Rory pleaded, gesturing towards the hole.

“EXACTLY” The Doctor bellowed in rage, already stripping off his jacket and shoes.

“Please!” He begged again but Amy just pulled him back.

“Let him go, just let him go.” She muttered to him, eyes darting back and forth from the dark water to the Doctor as he prepared to dive in. “Come back.” She choked out, clutching Rory’s shoulder. The Doctor simply nodded grimly, stepping over to the edge of the ice.

Nothing could have prepared him for the bitter cold that shocked his body and he tried to push his hair away from his eyes, to no avail. He kicked down, head swiveling to try and glimpse your body. He saw a glint of your coat as you sunk slowly to the bottom. With ferocity, he kicked his way over to your body. Your head hung limp on your neck, hair swirling around your face. He grunted, air bubbles escaping him as he wrapped his arms around you, struggling to tug your body. The cold was invading him, making his fingers stuck and brain lethargic. His hearts attempted to pump blood through his body as he slowly moved you. Looking up, the surface quivered before his eyes, sun shining weakly onto him. It was so close and yet so far as he tried and tried again to pull your body along with him. With one last push of exertion, he surged towards the surface, and reached it.

His head broke first, gasping for air, hair slick against his forehead. Amy shrieked in the distance as her and Rory carefully hurried over, helping pull you and the Doctor out of the water. Amy helped him into his jacket and shoes, rubbing her hands up and down his arms in a futile move to bring heat into him. Rory hesitated by your body, his fingers hovering by your neck before he bit the bullet and searched for your pulse.

It wasn’t there.

“G-guys…” He stuttered, tears welling in his eyes. He didn’t finish his sentence and instead shook his head, tearing open your once puffy but now drenched jacket and started CPR. He opened your mouth, placed his hands, and counted the beats out, praying that your heart would restart itself. He knew that he shouldn’t put on too much force in fear of breaking ribs but you had to live. You had to. Amy and the Doctor huddled around, Amy’s hand covering her mouth as she cried. The Doctor shivered in his soaked outfit, the tears dripping down his face feeling like they were getting stuck on his cool skin. Finally, you coughed.

Rory jumped to tilt your head, stroking your back as you got the water out of your lungs. It rushed out and burned you in a way you never wanted to feel again. Your body felt cold but burning at the same time and you couldn’t focus on anything. The water hurt your throat and your mind was foggy of all that had transpired. You slumped back onto the ice when your coughing fit passed, breathing heavily.

“Oh thank god.” Rory said with a relieved sigh, his head collapsing into his hands. Amy ran to his side as the Doctor ran to yours. He held you in a strong embrace and your arms weakly found their way around his back. His cold seeped into your cold but you hardly noticed at this point. The trio slowly helped you up to your feet and you wobbled with each step you took, yet refused to be carried by anyone. Your skates clunked along on the ice, making things more complicated, but despite drowning and being brought back, you were too stubborn to stop until you got to the TARDIS.

Once inside at last, you slumped onto the floor. Her heaters kicked on full blast for the two of you and Rory ushered the Doctor away to change. Amy set about helping you to your room, got you new clothes, heaps of blankets, and ordered you away to the bathroom. Though still shaky, you turned the shower on, stripped, and sighed as the feeling finally started to come back into your body. You were beyond exhausted, and reasonably so, and you wanted nothing more than to collapse into your bed.

A few hours later, you got your wish and were covered in a pile of blankets with Amy sat on the edge of your body. The Doctor and Rory trailed in, both looking bedraggled but the Doctor was now at least in better shape.

“Thank you.” You croaked out, throat and voice hoarse from all the water that had gotten into your lungs and then been expelled. Both men blushed despite themselves and joined Amy by sitting on your bed.

“Next time, we’ll go to a rink inside.” Amy joked lightheartedly, patting your knee.

“Yeah.” You coughed with a weak smile.

“That was close today,” Rory said slowly, “we’re not sure how long you were under for. If you start noticing any strange feelings or things happening to you, you have to notify us immediately. If you sustained brain damage, we need to try and take care of it as best that we can.” Despite the serious words, he smiled encouragingly at you. You nodded in acknowledgement of his words.

“We almost lost you. We did lose you for a minute there. I don’t know what I– what we– would have done if that happened. We couldn’t bear to lose you, Y/N.” The Doctor said sadly, taking your hand and rubbing it gently.

“I know.” Tears slipped down your face and Amy brushed them away. “Let’s not repeat it in the future then, right?” You let out a small chuckle, immediately regretting it as your chest ached soon after. They all nodded their heads in approval, sympathy creasing their eyes.

“We’ll let you get some sleep now.” Amy said, rising from the bed. “Don’t worry, we’ll check back in.” She winked, walking over and taking Rory’s hand. You said one last genuine thank you to Rory and were left with the Doctor as they exited the room.

“You jumped in to get me.” You said quietly, looking down.

“I had to.” He reached for both your hands this time, squeezing them. “I don’t know what I would have done with myself if I lost you. You’re priceless to me and to the Ponds as well. I couldn’t stand the thought…” He trailed off, unable to stop himself from visibly choking up.

“Oh, Doctor…” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him tight despite the aches. “What have I done to deserve a friend like you?” You murmured softly before letting go.

“You’ve existed.” He answered plainly with a smile. “Now, you really should get some sleep.” He stood but gave you one more hug, unable to resist himself.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Of course.” He nodded, straightened his bow tie, and closed the door as you fell into a dreamless, much needed, sleep.

[greennightspider]

Deep Trouble

Author’s Note: Written as a sort of sequel to Beneath the Storm, but can also work as a one-shot on its own. @sammyslonglostshoe @let-monsters-reign this is for you two I hope you’re both happy (No idea who else to tag bc idk how freaky you guys get okaaaaaaay)

Summary: An evening trist, with an unexpected twist. A surprise guest, will he be welcome or will he be more chaos than company? A Split/Glass fanfic. (Warning: Smut, slight voice kink) 

Italics - The alters/personalities inside Kevin’s mind or internal monologue

Bold - The Beast

Dennis x Reader x The Beast 

Living with the personalities was in a word… interesting. There was never a dull moment, and after a while you had managed to work out a system so you knew who to expect most of the time. This morning had had breakfast with Barry, then went to work, came back and then watched Hedwig practice his dance moves.

You had just finished having a lovely dinner with Patricia. She cooked, provided you did the washing up which you didn’t mind. Patricia’s cooking was a godsend, and you would’ve licked the plate clean were it not for her gentle scolding.

“I think I might retire early tonight.” Patricia mused as she paced the kitchen.

“That sounds good, will Hedwig have the light next?” You questioned, eyeing the unfinished game sprawled across the living room table.

“Oh no I think I will need to put him to bed early. You know he’s a grump in the morning and I don’t want you to have to deal with that. Again.”

Patricia watched you as you chuckled slightly, placing the last plate on the dishrack to dry.

You owe me for this Dennis. She whispered.

Thank you Patricia.

Hey! Me and Y/N were gonna finish our connect four game! I was winning too!

Now now, Hedwig. I told Y/N to leave the game exactly how it is. No cheating. But now its time for bed.

For all of us. Patricia’s voice rang out, being met with groans, and sighs, but nothing more. 

As Dennis approached the light in the centre of course Barry wolf whistled, and Jade chuckled knowingly as they turned away.

But before Dennis could enter the circle Patricia tapped his hand.

Be gentle with her. She has work tomorrow.

Dennis raised an eyebrow at her. I’ll try.

Patricia hit his arm in a jest and returned to her seat with the rest of the alters, settling in for the night.

Of course, all but one. Who gazed from the shadows with peering eyes and hungry lips that curled into a smirk as they watched Dennis take the light once more.

You drained the sink and wiped your hands on a towel before feeling two strong arms encircle your waist. You could always tell when the alters had switched, and after a while you could almost feel it in the air 

“Dennis…” you sighed, leaning back into his touch. Dennis kissed down your neck as his hands roamed your torso, finally resting both of his large hands on each of your breasts. He kneaded them until your nipples became hard peaks.

You heard his breathing become heavier against your ear. “Surprise.” He grunted contentedly, enjoying your sighs of pleasure.

You didn’t protest when Dennis started walking you backwards, turning the kitchen light off as you two went past. “I think it’s your bedtime too.”

In one fell swoop Dennis threw you on the bed, and you laughed as you bounced on the mattress while Dennis undressed. The large man stripped down to his pants before crawling on top of you, but you stopped him with a finger to his chest. “Ah ah ah.” You smirked cheekily. “Sit on the edge of the bed.”

Dennis flared his nostrils but did as he was told, wondering what you were up to. He remembered Patricia’s warnings of restraint, until you started swaying your hips from side to side, undoing the buttons on the front your shirt one by one. Painfully slow for Dennis’ taste. He watched as you hung up your shirt on a hanger, making sure it was straight and uncreased. He clenched and unclenched his fists that he held firm on his thighs, as you leaned your shoulders back on the wall, leaning your hips toward him as you slunk your jeans off, leaving you in only your lacy underwear. But watching you bend over and fold up your jeans was more than he could stand.

Fuck restraint.

Dennis flared his nostrils and pulled you into his arms once more, quickly flipping you on your back as he grinded into you. He retreated to almost rip his belt out of his trousers, hurriedly placing the belt in his wardrobe as well as folding your pants, while you took the time to let your hand wander into your underwear.

Dennis’ nostrils flared as he turned around and realised what you were doing. Immediately mounting you and stripping your hand from your underwear. “Bad girl.” He growled. “Look at this, these are all dirty now.” He unhooked your panties and threw them in the hamper.

You both moaned as you felt Dennis’ cock grind against your sex. He entered you with such forced that you arched of the bed, Dennis taking a nipple in his mouth as you did so.

Your sultry moans filled the room as Dennis fucked you hard and fast, his need clouding his mind as all he could think of was you, writhing and groaning underneath him.

However it wasn’t long before Dennis felt a different urge. Something that shook him to his core with only three words.

My turn now.

No. Dennis grunted, trying to fight it, feeling the Beast almost claw at him in the light.

I have said. It’s my time.

While your eyes were closed in pure lust Dennis’ muscles began to tighten and grow as he shifted. His breathing turns to heavy grunts, and you moan in response. You feel Dennis’ movements become faster and harder, and you claw at his back as he gripped the sheets almost ripping them.

Lost in pleasure you felt Dennis flip you over and drag your feet to the edge of the bed so that your toes were touching the ground. Surprised by this new forcefulness but too fargone to care, you widen your stance for him and mewl, trying to push back and find some friction. “Please.” You whine, in that voice you knew Dennis loved.

Look how she presents herself to me. The beast growled at Dennis, who now watched from the darkness frustratedly.

Suddenly you felt the head of his member enter you once more, but this time it felt thicker than before.

“Baby, did- did you get bigger?” You ask in a whine, to which you hear only dark laughter. Your eyes widen as you realize it isn’t Dennis behind you, but you have no time to react as the Beast pushes himself inside your pussy to the hilt, drawing out a long groan from your lips.

“Beast.” You whisper as your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bury your face in the pillows, the Beast starting a brutal pace. He fucks you rough and hard, his primal nature getting the best of you. “Oh yes oh yes oh fuck yes!” You almost scream as your toes curl, your drenched pussy squeezing hard inamongst his rapid thrusts, drawing you closer and closer to your release.

I can see why you like this pure one. The Beast growls at Dennis. I’m surprised she can match me this well. Dennis says nothing, he only purses his lips tightly with his arms folded.

Oh stop sulking. I only wanted a taste. The Beast bared his teeth in a maniacal grin.

All of a sudden Dennis is thrown back into the light as the Beast laughs darkly, returning to the void. Dennis then opens his eyes to the sight of you moaning as you take him from behind, Dennis immediately losing himself in the way your ass backs onto his throbbing member.

“Did you have fun?” Dennis snarls in your ear. You shudder at his voice and your pussy clenches around him, drawing out a low groan from him in response. "I did, but I'm glad you're back." You turn and grin up at him.

Dennis takes no time in matching the Beasts' brutal pace, making your toes curl and your pussy almost drip with need. You loved when Dennis got rough, as he fucked you so hard into the bed it started banging on the wall.

Dennis groaned at the way your pussy was drawing him in tighter and tighter, signaling you were close. He watches himself disappear into you right up to the hilt, always amazed at how you could take him.

Beast, may I ask you for a favour. Dennis grits through his teeth, as the Beast raises an eyebrow slinking out from the void.

“Oh Dennis, Dennis oh, I’m gonna cum!” You moan wildly, the echoing slap of skin against skin becoming faster and shorter. “Yes yes yes!”

“Do it.”

The deep growling command drives you over the edge as you cream on his dick, Dennis roaring as he slams into you with his release while your pussy milks him for all he is worth. You collapse onto the sheets and so does Dennis.

“Thank you.” You breathe, trying to catch your breath and drag yourself up the bed using only your arms, knowing you’ll probably have to call in sick tomorrow from work.

You hear that?

Oh I heard it.

Dennis watches you as you lie on your stomach, exhausted panting and sated, he closes his eyes and momentarily lets himself go.

Suddenly you hear a low chuckle, as you feel what seem like claws softly raking down your skin. You don’t open your eyes but you smirk all the same as you hear the gruff breathing beside you.

“You’re welcome.”

[sly-merlin]

Killing Me - 2| n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au 

warnings : curse words, mention of murder, guns etc

words : 2908

summary :

“life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

                                                  0r

                  “curiosity got the cat hitched!!

K.M Masterlist

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taglist :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! )  @yiyi4657​ @sorrywonwoo​ @sillywinnergladiator​  @suhweo​ @exfolitae​

‘Where is she?’ a voice echoed from behind you. The police officer woke up from his little slumber one more time and stood up to greet the owner of voice. Before you could turn around, a fair, young man sat down in the place previously occupied by the officer. You straightened your back before taking a look at him. He was not too broad but couldn’t be considered lean either. His hair were darker shade of blue hooding his eyes. He looked too young to be a senior but who were you to judge someone’s capabilities.

“Is she alone” he asked the other officer, who nodded his head in response. The officer’s demeanour took a 180 degree turn from his previous one. He had a smug look on his face.

“Where’s the evidence?”

“Here it is!” your phone which was resting on the desk until now was in the hands of the senior officer. You watched him carefully going through the photos. He turned the chair to face the back wall hiding himself from you. You couldn’t understand why he has to be so sceptical about the evidence. It was enough to punish the criminal. And you weren’t even informed of the results of the search party that was sent earlier. You were cut out of your thoughts when the man turned in the chair and extended his hand towards you with your phone. You took the phone but didn’t open it.

“Is he dead?” he questioned the officer.

“Yes, but his body is disposed of. Nobody can trace anything back to him. Give me few days and I’ll delete his whole existence.” that being said, your heart stopped and a loud gasp left your lips. Their conversation wasn't giving away anything but you were smart enough to realise the scenario.

“Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. You would be rewarded nicely. But she didn’t go to the higher officer, right? It’d take more time to clean it.”

“No. I know he is a pain in the ass, there was no need for you to come this far though .I could’ve handled this minor inconvenience all by myself.” he smirked towards you.

So he’s not the senior.              

Then what is he doing here?.

“Mr doyoung, what are we going to do with her” he pointed towards you like you were some disgusting rat he’s trying to get rid of.

“Taeyong would deal with her. You don’t need to worry. Your work is done here”.

Your hair fell on your face when the cloth was removed from your head. You tried to blow them out off your face but your action merely resulted in you breathing all the air through your nose.  Someone removed the tape, causing you to cough violently. Your cheeks pained, your lips felt like they were stung by bees. Your chest heaved up and down when you tried to take a breath. A soft hand removed all the hair from your face and tucked them behind both ears. The man then rubbed your back to help you regain your senses.

Following that everything happened in a blur. The said man, doyeon or something got up abruptly from the chair, took your phone, yanked your hands backwards and handcuffed them. He was so swift in his movements that few seconds later you were ushered into a small car. You tried to speak but he taped you and face was covered with a cloth. You shuffled in the passenger seat but the man didn’t seem to be fazed by your antics as he drove wordlessly.

After travelling for what felt like hours he finally pulled up somewhere. You were forced out of the car by your arm. The only thing you were sure of was that you passed 3 doors, following which you were made to sit on a metal chair.

“Hey, you alright?

You gestured towards your arms instead of responding.

“What’s your name” you looked up to see another blue haired man asking you in a hoarse voice.

“Open her cuffs doyoung!” your saviour, what it felt like at the moment, ordered the man. He came forward and did as told. Once free, you got up from the chair while rubbing your wrists and took shelter behind the same chair.

You scanned the room to find about 10 men, in their pyjamas, staring at you. They didn’t look dangerous, at least not in their current state. Out of nowhere, you felt something on your head. Of course, there was someone behind you. You tried your best not to show any panic on your face, but it was an impossible task for someone who’d be dead in a few minutes. You didn’t know what to do next. Your hands found solace in the hem of your shirts which you continued to twist and turn until one of them spoke,

“y/n” you answered timidly, purely to show them that you were nothing more than an innocent girl caught up in a wrong situation. It was the only way you’d be back home safely.

“What were you doing near that street and what did you see?” the same man questioned again but with more irritated voice. You parroted the whole story in the same way it happened. It was like giving report to the police officer. But this time a slight fear was in charge of your senses instead of the confidence you had earlier. The more you explained, the more ridiculous it sounded to you. Your courage and zeal were your best traits, as told by many people including your professors and these two traits were going to lower you in the ground today. being courageous and senseless was serving as the dangerous combination for you.

“You are quite amusing and smart, miss. Had it been someone else, we’d have let you go but it’s about yuta so we can’t take any future risks, you know” a man who was more on the shorter side, spoke. As said, you were a risk to them but eyeing your current position, you felt more threatened than they were by you.

“What are you going to do with me?” you blurted.

“Kill her” the voice behind you advised in a harsh and growling voice. His voice was rougher than the other one and he sounded like he was getting impatient in your presence. You felt tears prickling in your eyes at his statement. Prediction of your death and hearing a declaration made to that effect, the latter sounded scarier without doubt. You never wanted to die like that. You wanted to make a good life for yourself. The rational part of your brain was suggesting to beg for your life but another was telling you to hold it till last. Your dilemma was causing an incessant headache by now. Because of your reckless act of bravery, you were now at the mercy of some criminals who probably killed humans for their jest.

“Anyway, where are the photos, doyoung?” a man with red hair spoke.

“She’s quite a photographer you know” doyoung says slyly to the red haired man while handing him his phone. He went through the photos with stoic look on his face. He didn’t look scary but you could only hope if his heart and brain tallied with his face.

He curtly nodded before handing the phone to person standing next to him and just like that the phone was passed to everyone in the room where at last it reached right behind you. The man with the gun gave a snort which you assumed was his reaction to the photos. Nobody looked pleased. why would they be!The quietness of the room was taken over by soft whispers which did nothing more than to increase your anxiousness. The red haired man whose name was yet to be unveiled, was having a kind of discussion with everyone. One by one, all men gathered around him except the one who you dreaded the most in this state.

“I’m taeyong, the leader of Neos.” the red haired man said and your countenance at his words stopped him from further explaining anything. He watched your wide eyes and now trembling hands.

“You are a feisty one, ain’t you!” you yelped at the voice which surely didn’t go unnoticed by others but they rather chose to ignore it. Why they would be worried for your wellbeing, you thought. You’ll end up dead, if not by a gun, then by heart stroke from the sneaky little bitch. To distract yourself, you looked around the room but found nothing worthy of your interest. The room was medium sized but there was only one tube above the door which shone its lightening down to where the chair was situated. Everything else was void of any light, now including you and your possible killer.

A loud cough from the men interrupted your screening of the room. You were anticipating the outcome they had possibly reached at but that didn’t mean you were ready for it. Your stoic face was hiding your faltered confidence and their glaring eyes weren’t giving anything either.

Neos didn’t have a face!

Until now.

“And we’ll deal with you in the morning.” he waved his fingers in your direction and before you could comprehend his actions, you were knocked out with a press of fingers on your neck.

You woke up from your enforced sleep with a pounding head and a numb side. You tried to wake up, propped on your elbow but your effort remained futile. You were once again lying on the cemented floor with your arms placed on your middle. The room was not as dark as it was earlier. There was a small window giving its way to the rays of the light but it wasn’t enough to lighten the whole room. The electric tube was off. You were in a basement. It was morning, you realised. And it was no dream. Yesterday’s acts would serve as life lesson for you, that is, if you lived.

Your train of thoughts came to a halt when the metal door opened with an ear screeching noise. You got up hurriedly on your feet, the dizziness you felt making you stumble a little on your feet. Your body was poorly soar. A giant figure walked towards you. He handed you a water bottle. You were indeed thirsty. You gulped half of the water down your throat, the liquid filling you with relief.

“What if it was poisoned?”

“The bottle was sealed.” you immediately replied. He seemed to be impressed by your quick wit answer.

“I’m Johnny” you would’ve thanked him for getting you out from those restraints yesterday, had they not knocked you out of consciousness. He was heads taller than you and broader as well. You couldn’t even take a glimpse of the door behind him.

“I’m going to tell others that you are up!” with that he waved you goodbye but before he could close the door, you shouted-

“How long I have to stay here? “You questioned innocently with hope that maybe he would drop a hint about their verdict but he only chuckled in response, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Not long after Johnny was gone, the door opened again with same noise. But this time, the whole army was there. You stood up from the chair in defence as you saw them approaching you. The red haired man walked with long strides towards you and stopped before you with crossed arms.

“Read doyoung.” he ordered.

“y/n l/n, orphan. Parents died when she was 4. Grew up in an orphanage. No siblings. Lived in the orphanage till university. She started working in high school to make herself independent though her orphanage is fully funded.Got a full scholarship in SNU in law department and is now pursuing masters with same benefits. Her dorm number is XXX. Her roommate’s name is chelin. She is in psychology department.  Y/n has 4 friends including her roommate. Very antisocial. She has special inclination towards music and books. Never had a boyfriend or girlfriend. She wants to be an attorney under Choi’s but they didn’t had an opening last year so she took up master’s course. No current internships. And she gives tutoring to law students on weekends. Her other source of income is freelance writing. And she loves green” he sighed before putting his phone in pocket.

You gasped loudly at the end of his speech. You were stunned. Doyoung recited your whole life story like a mantra in span of few seconds. Each and every word was correct. They caught up to your past in such a short time and now your future was in their hands too. You felt your eyes moistening as you took in everything. They were a lot more powerful than you had thought. They were Neos after all. One of the best.

“Do you know why you aren’t killed yet?” taeyong said monotonously. You shook your head as no.

“because yuta is the one who needs to be reprimanded from being careless not you but here we are. we are mafia. we are supposed to be careful so common people doesn’t get involved in our mess. But as you can see we can’t let your little curiosity ruin our business. Hence, I’m bound to take action as the leader here. You have seen yuta on a crime scene. You have seen all of our faces making you the sole outsider to know what neos look like.  We can’t let you get out of here-

“What if I stay quiet? I won’t tell anyone about you people. Take my word for it! and I didn’t ask for your name anyway” you interrupted him to state yourself.

“That’s the problem here! We can’t trust you. I don’t have anything personal against you but it is what it is. We can’t just leave a mole out there! And besides it’s a mutual decision. We decided to find a middle ground. Both of you are going to solve this amicably or else I’ll have to take some strong measures”. He finished with a sigh. He was awfully calm for someone whose business was on the verge of expose.

“b-both of us?” you stammered. Your voice turned smaller and eyes glossier.

“You and yuta” he pointed towards a blonde man who was standing uninterestingly at the back. He was the same killer. A smirk and wave was sent your way. You turned your head to face taeyong again.

“What about me and him?” you were now tired of asking questions.

“There’s no easy way to say this, but if you both get married then I can make sure that-

“I’m not going to marry him or anyone for that matter.” you exclaimed loudly to make yourself clear to each and every person in the room. You were horrified to say the least.

“You will! He retorted with same aggression. “You will marry him. You don’t need me to tell you the other option, kid!” he said with a raised brow.

“Kill me for all you want” you mouth blurted out without any second thought. You wiped your tears with rough motion. No way in the world you were going to marry the man who was a brutal murderer and this was only one side of him that you had witnessed yet. Dying suddenly sounded like a better option.

“How about we convince you” taeyong proposed as he put his hands in the pocket.

“I won’t let you” you spitted.

“Give me a chance, then decide”

Earlier in taeyong’s office

“For fucks sake, stop shouting yuta!” Johnny cursed at yuta who was causing a havoc in the room. He was just informed about his penalty and he had lost his shit since then.

“You ain’t the one getting married, so shut up! Yuta growled at Johnny who only glared at him.

“This isn’t your first time yuta! And we can’t waste more of our time in cleaning up your mess. You need to improve your manners. You are getting reckless and this is not how underground works. You almost exposed us. Apart from doyoung, nobody is aware of the members and even he has to go every other month to clean after you. This has to stop and I’ll make sure you don’t forget the consequences ever in your life.” taeyong fumed at yuta while swinging your bio data papers on his face. Donghyuck had worked for whole night to collect your information.

“She’s not trustworthy”

“I’ve thought it through! Just agree already.”

“I’m not doing it”

“If you don’t then mark have to! You have an hour to think. You or Mark.the finality in taeyong’s voice was clear.

“Why can’t you just kill her?”

“You already know why!”

And yuta knew he had no choice. Taeyong was a man of his words. And mark won’t even try refuse him either. He picked the papers up and stormed out of the room.

“Wasn’t that too harsh. You are practically throwing him into hell. Are you sure about this. She’s a mere girl. We can just get rid of her with money as well!” jaehyun, who was standing beside taeyong, questioned the leader’s absurd decision.

“I know we can. But I want him to learn a lesson and besides she’s not just a girl. She’s going to be an asset.”

feedback is always appreciated. i know there are plenty of grammatical mistakes as english is not the local communication language so i tend to make mistakes!

WELCOME NEW READERS! I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS !!

[embersrevived]

The Apprentice Name Game 

Tagged by: @afacelesswitch (thank you so much dear!! ^^”) 

Warning: Monstrously lengthy post/explanations ahead. Please feel free to blacklist the tag “long post” if the length of such posts proves cumbersome to your dashboard, as this is the tag I will utilize for this post and other future lengthy posts. The blank question template can be found at the bottom of this post. 

• What is their name? Nadir Darvish 

• Who named them? Was it their birth name? Did they choose their own name?

Yes, Nadir Darvish is Nadir’s full birth name; no middle name(s) given. (Middle names are not really a thing in Nadir’s culture). Nadir’s parents specifically wanted their first and only child to have a name that either honored an important aspect of Parzian culture and tradition or was an homage to a renowned monarch in Parzian history, and eventually they decided on the latter. Nadir (Nader) Shah was a king from a former dynasty who was renowned for his ingenuity and acumen, both as a statesman and military general. His military campaigns and exploits during his reign were so great that he has actually been dubbed ‘the second Alexander’ by some historians. Nadir’s parents had been anticipating a male child at first, but then apparently just decided to kinda roll with it after Nadir was born.  

((And yes, I incorporated and recycled bits and pieces of real history and have drawn inspiration from actual events (interwoven with the more fictional and fantasy components) when I initially had jotted down Nadir’s and Parzia’s background/history, e.g. I headcanon that certain real historical figures such as Nader Shah and the forever famed Alexander the Great played a pivotal role in Parzian history, though there are other important political figures (e.g. the most recent king/Parzian shah, Khosrow VI, who are entirely made up). 

Just from the sheer name similarity and background, it may be quite obvious as to which former great empire Parzia is heavily based off of (and is basically the Arcana equivalent of). Though in the world of the Arcana, a direct chronological comparison to the specific real life events cannot be drawn. Given the intentional ambiguity of the Arcana verse and timeline, I have purposely sort of cherry-picked bits and pieces of history involving real classical and influential figures and events (often far-removed from one another chronologically) and combined them with fictional pieces/events I’ve made up to fill the gaps.)) 

• What does their name mean? 

Among the various city-states that Parzia borders and is neighbors with whose denizens also have this name, “Nadir/Nader” has come to mean something along the lines of “rare.” Nadir (Nader) is a name that is not solely or even purely Parzian in origin, as Parzia’s history has also been shaped by and has somewhat absorbed pieces of various other cultures over time due to intermingling, being conquered by, and also having conquered a multitude of other nation-states over time. Though as explained above, Nadir’s parents had originally selected her name as an homage to the famed former monarch “Nadir/Nader Shah” as he is often hailed as one of the most notable and ingenious monarchs in Parzian history. 

Nadir’s surname, “Darvish” (or dervish) is originally derived from the name given to a group of spiritual  and religiously devout mendicants and mystics who purposely chose to live in austerity and took vows of poverty in order to be close to God by leading lives emphasizing virtues, e.g. humility and altruism. Dervishes were prohibited for begging for their own good, rather instead begging for humility and to collect money to give to other poor people. 

Image depiction of a darvish (and general information) credited to the corresponding Wikipedia article page. 

So from this, it could be assumed that possibly some of Nadir’s early ancestors on her father’s side partook in such practices pertaining to this form of mysticism, even though currently her present day family is mostly secular and irreligious. Though as mentioned in an earlier post, Nadir’s family also acknowledges their original ethnoreligious roots. In the Arcana, this is said to be the equivalent of real life Zoroastrianism, with slight influence from other ancestral and religious beliefs that have been passed down over time (e.g. the darvish mysticism that was just discussed in the discussion of Nadir’s surname). This would be logical since Parzia is a nation-state with people of  rich and diverse historical, religious, and cultural backgrounds. 

• Why did you choose that name for your apprentice?

((There are a few reasons for this actually. The mun has a long history of utilizing the word “nadir” in both present and past usernames throughout her lengthy time on the Internet. The very first username being something like “NadirofDark” oh the cringe many years ago as an edgy teen on a now long defunct site, since “nadir” is also used to designate the lowest point of something. I actually believe it was inspired during a point in time in school when we as students were required to memorize lists of higher level vocabulary words in school (and subsequently had vocabulary quizzes/tests), e.g. differentiating between “zenith” and “nadir” ... and for some reason, even many years later, this has just sorta stuck. 

 This eventually evolved into related variants of the original username: nadir-ex-obscurum, then tenebras-autem-nadir, and most currently tenebris-auguratricis-nadir as my main blog)  Though I also have selected name in homage to the actual, real historical figure and king (Nadir/Nader Shah) who existed. So it technically was chosen for a twofold purpose, both as a cultural/historical homage in addition to me just clinging onto a piece of ancient usernames past. When selecting my apprentice’s name, I ultimately decided to just recycle this name for reasons pertaining to cultural familiarity and for sentimental reasons related to my much more ancient history with past Internet usernames.)) 

• Do they have any nicknames or favorite pet names?

Well, I sometimes joke that Asra once or twice called Nadir “Nadi”, but then realized that was already taken due to his shortened, familiar nickname for the Countess, whose name is just a single letter off from Nadir’s own name. Since then, Asra has mainly stuck with calling her by her full name, though they both did find it somewhat humorous at the time it happened.  

More recently though, @plague-doctor-jules Julian has given Nadir the nickname “Zen-zen” (a truncation of the antonym of ‘Nadir’, which is Zenith) in sort of affectionate jest that’s meant to starkly contrast with the “lowest point” generic definition that many initially assume "Nadir” to mean (before they are also informed about the historical and cultural homage reason behind it). 

I tag: @vesuvias-undertaker @sunrisenfool @fadedintheflames @bitters-enthusiast @icedcoffee-and-pumpkinbread @aria-i-adagio @demonteas @ia-bi-tia @apprentice-aquila @secndroute @magicthwink and whoever else sees this and wishes to do it 

Blank Question Template Beneath the Cut: 

1. What is their name?

2. Who named them? Was it their birth name? Did they choose their own name?

3. What does their name mean?

4. Why did you choose that name for your apprentice?

5. Do they have any nicknames or favorite pet names?