#far from the little library i used to go to. neither one is better or worse. just different

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

.

[achaoticeternal]

electric touch

aemond targaryen x niece!reader

summary: while taking a visit to the royal library, you come across aemond who seems to have a small gift for you. word count: 1.1k warnings: afab!reader, targcest, reader is mentioned to have violet eyes but that is the only descriptor. a/n: this was just a little drabble I thought of. i'm trying to get back into the grove of writing after my summer hiatus.

Though King’s Landing was quite an enticing place to visit, the climate at Dragonstone seemed to accommodate her taste better. Where Dragonstone held warm air and cooling sea breezes, King’s Landing lacked such a luxury. Whenever Rhaenyra made visits to the capitol with her daughter, neither princess slept well for their own reasons. Both, however, missed their own beds and comforts of home.

Currently, the younger Targaryen princess was making her way down the aisles of the library. Particularly, she found herself in the special collection that her uncle had curated. Books that varied from philosophy, the history of Old Valyria, and even strategies of ancient wars. However, sprinkled in between were books that contained the sweetest words held in between pages. Yes, both she and Aemond held a secret bond over the lines of fine poetry.

It was a love they learned as children. Whenever Aemond was not training or being tormented by his brother and nephews, he would accompany his niece at the weirwood tree. Helaena would not be too far off either, allowing the creatures in the gardens to climb into her gentle hands.

Such a memory caused a small smile to grace her lips as she reached for a book that had been well-loved.

“Have you come to wreck my shelves?” The voice interrupted her abruptly.

She jumped away from her spot, the breath returning to her lungs when she recognized the man. Her hands went to smooth out her skirts, “Good day to you, uncle…”

The lady went to reach for the book again. Still, it remained just out of reach. The scoff sounding next to her changed her focus once more.

“Have you not considered using your words to ask for help, riñītsos?” He questioned.

Little Girl.

Sighing at his question, she moved back from the shelf. As she faced him, her eyes flicked from the book to his gaze. Though her actions were childish, she did not anticipate being denied her wish, “Kostilus…” Please.

His dismissive hum could be heard as he moved in front of her. With ease, he gripped the spine of the book before bringing it down. Aemond held onto it for a moment, eye scanning over the cover. Epics of Old Valyria.

“I see you’ve been working on your native tongue,” the prince stated nonchalantly, “Though it is still peculiar to me as to why you deem it fit to borrow from my personal collection?”

The corners of her lips dropped at his words, “And do you enjoy withholding the pleasure of knowledge?”

His violet eye slowly trailed up her height. Both of them had grown since they’d last shared each other’s company. This was evident to both parties. Her eye then met her own violet ones as a chuckle played on his lips, “Withholding pleasure is enjoyable for some people.”

Her posture straightened immediately, the innuendo not going unnoticed. She took the book from his grip, preparing to move past him and back to the security of her mother’s chambers.

The princess did not make it more than two paces before his hand shot out to grasp at her forearm. His touch was not harsh, yet there was no warm to it either, “What are you forgetting?”

She breathed out in audible frustration. Her eyes still trained toward the exit of the library, keeping her distracted from his intense gaze, “Are you not supposed to be in attendance of the small council meeting? Or has your seat been taken?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened at the taunt. However, his demeanor remained relatively calm.

Finally, she answered him properly, “Kirimvose.” Thank you.

After a pause of silence, she craned her neck to look up at Aemond. Her gaze was met with a playful smirk, “Issa daorun” You’re welcome.

However, his hold did not retreat from her forearm. Instead, he continued, “I have a little gift for you. Consider it a welcoming present for my favorite niece.”

“Careful, uncle,” Her eyes refocused on his face. The rest of the library remained at a soft focus, “You wouldn’t want to hurt poor Jaehaera’s feelings.”

His upper tip seemed to curl into a snarl at the quick-witted comment. Releasing his hold, his hands went to the pockets of his doublet, eyeing the item within it. Pulling out the piece, a finely forged Valyrian steel chain dangled from his nimble fingers. Resting at the bottom of the chain was a pendant of a singular dragon with a sapphire for an eye. The craftsmanship itself must have cost a fortune, not to mention the installation of such a fine gemstone.

“Kepus,” Her voice lulled, “Gevie…”

Without a word, Aemond moved to stand behind her. His gentle touch caressed her upper back as he moved her hair onto one shoulder. The cool pendant rested atop her bosom, sending tingles throughout her chest. The chain itself snaked around the delicate skin of her neck where he now clasped it together, “Dōna zaldrītsos,” Aemond purred.

As she turned back to face him, her lithe fingers toyed at the pendant. She quickly grew accustomed to the weight of it and the metallic feel against her skin, “Where did you find such a necklace?”

The look on his face was passive as if he could not drop his uncaring disguise, “I had it made for you.”

As her browed raised in motion for him to continue, Aemond added on, “I figured it would be to your liking.”

She took a moment, eyes flickering from the leather he wore to the steel chain at her neck.

“I see,” She nodded, “And what moved you to commission such a fine piece?”

Unbeknownst to the lady, Aemond fought an inner battle. He wished to step closer to her and reach out once more. He hated that he could easily despise his nephews, but never her… Not the girl whom he read poetry with between lunch and tea time. The girl who was now a woman grown before him. His greatest torment and object of his deepest affections.

Aemond faced her once more, bringing up his hand to toy with the pendant at her chest now, “The thought of you wearing it for me…”

---

all feedback is greatly appreciated. my ask box is open for requests.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

All the Difference

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous and Anonymous (I combined to similar requests)

Synopsis: The brothers help you through one of your frequent migraines.

Warnings: migraines, pain, honestly it’s mostly fluff. I’m no expert on migraines but I had a few in high school so I’m going off that experience, there could be some mistakes.

You went to the library of the bunker with a familiar sense of foreboding. It had started with your vision, as it always did. An annoying little spot at the corner of your eyes that was oddly blurry. It continued like that for nearly half an hour, and after that was when the pain started.

“Hey, how’d you sleep?” Sam greeted as you entered the library. His jovial tone dropped when he saw the look on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s happening again,” you mumbled, coming to stand in front of your brother.

“Does it hurt yet?” He asked gently, reaching out and grabbing your hands.

“Only a little,” you sighed. But it would get worse, it always did.

“Do you want to try and sleep?” Sam asked, his thumbs brushing over the back of your hands.

You shook your head.

“You wanna eat something?”

Another shake.

“Hey guys,” Dean greeted much too loudly, and Sam frowned when he saw you flinch.

“Easy man,” he chided. “She’s got a migraine.”

“Sorry,” Dean all but whispered. “How bad is it?”

“I think it’s gonna be a bad one,” you said gloomily. Bad migraines could last for days; you were in for a rough week.

“Alright, c’mon,” Dean said, grabbing his jacket.

“What?” You frowned up at him.

“No use just sitting around waiting for it to get worse. Let’s go for a drive.”

…

Dean reclined your seat before stepping back to let you get in. You did without argument, and Dean ran around the front to his own seat. The roar of the engine should’ve made you flinch, but despite how loud it was there was something comforting about the familiar sound.

Dean turned on the radio, but to your surprise it wasn’t his head-banging Metallica; instead he had one of your favorite songs, turned down low enough that it didn’t bother you.

Neither of you spoke as Dean pulled away from the bunker and started down the open road. You didn’t have to. He was humming softly to your songs, and you were relaxing in the passenger seat, lulled by Baby’s gentle purr and the soft music. Your migraine was steadily getting worse, and every bump on the road had you cringing, but all-in-all it was better than sitting in the artificial light of the bunker, moping and waiting for it to get worse.

Eventually, though, the bumps became unbearable, and so did the sunlight creeping over the hood of the Impala and reflecting past your eyes and straight into your head, like it was shining onto your migraine itself.

“Dean?” You mumbled finally, and he hummed in acknowledgement. “Can we go back now?”

“You ok?” He asked even as he swung the Impala into a U-turn.

“Hurts.” You brought your hands up to cover your eyes, but it didn’t help.

“Ok it’s ok, we’re not far, just hang in there.”

Dean lowered the volume on the radio even more, and you could tell he was taking extra care to miss the potholes lining the road. He pulled out his phone and made a call.

“Hey, Sammy? Yeah we’re headed back now. Blackout.”

“Blackout” meant that Sam would turn off all the lights in the bunker, except for some candles or dim lights to see by. You always told your brothers that they didn’t have to do it; you could always just hibernate in your room. But they wanted the whole bunker migraine-friendly whenever you were in pain, so they did it anyway.

“You doin’ ok over there?” Dean asked after he hung up. You nodded, unwilling to speak as your head pounded.

“Ok, well I want you to drink some water when we get back to the bunker. I know that won’t make it go away, but it can’t hurt either.”

You knew arguing would be futile, and you didn’t have the energy to do it anyway.

When you got back to the bunker, you waved you hand blindly for the car door, hesitant to open your eyes. You didn’t have to; your door opened up without your aid, and Dean was there, lifting you into his arms.

“It’s my head that’s broken, not my legs,” you protested even as you relaxed against your brother’s shoulder.

“Shut up,” Dean replied, and the rumble of his voice in his chest felt oddly good against your aching forehead. “I’m gonna take you to the couch, ok?”

Your head hurt too much for words or even a nod, so you just let silence be your assent.

Dean carried you into the bunker and straight to the couch, and you had to admit that it was nice without the glaring lights on.

Dean had you on the couch with your favorite fluffy blanket over you in record time, and a few minutes later he had you surrounded by water bottles as though they were guards protecting you.

“I’ve gotta head to the library and catch up on some lore,” he said finally. “So it’s Sam’s turn to play nursemaid for a while.”

“You don’t have to—“ you started, but Dean was already gone, and within minutes Sam arrived to take his place, a steaming bowl in his hands.

“I know you don’t want food,” he said before you could speak. “But you should probably get something in you, so I brought you some broth. Think you can handle that?”

You nodded wearily, hesitant to sit up. You were getting hungry, but the last thing you wanted was to give your stomach something to reject later.

“Alright.”

You groaned as Sam put a hand behind your back and lifted you to sit up.

“Yeah yeah,” he said, not sounding quite as pitying anymore. “You gotta sit up to eat.”

This brought a tiny smile to the corner of your lips, but it dropped fast as your head pounded in retribution for your movements. At your wince, Sam frowned.

“Sorry, honey,” he said softly.

“Not your fault,” you mumbled, making grabby hands for the bowl in his hands.

Once you had about half the bowl finished, you offered it back to Sam and he took it, satisfied enough.

He set it on the side table before coming to sit next to you on the couch.

“I was gonna lay there,” you protested.

“I know,” Sam said, lifting his giant hand up to pull your head down. Cradling the back of your head, he lowered you slowly to lay down, your head resting in his lap. Your eyes fluttered closed as your big brother ran his fingers feather-light through your hair.

After a few minutes, his hands left your hair, and you peaked one eye open to see him straining for a book on the bookshelf. He reached it and pulled it back, and you closed your eyes again as Sam cracked it open, before continuing to brush his fingers through your hair.

He started to read aloud, his voice loud enough so you didn’t have to strain but quiet enough that it felt soothing.

You appreciated this more than just about anything; screens were a definite no during migraines, and there were very few things that you could do to keep yourself from going insane with boredom when your head hurt too much to sleep.

That was how the whole afternoon was spent; at some point you and maybe even Sam dozed off before continuing, but for the most part he spent his whole afternoon reading to you.

After a dinner of some more reheated broth, Dean emerged from the library and came to sit with you and Sam.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted. “How we doing?”

“We have a migraine,” you mumbled sarcastically.

“Oh really?” Dean quipped as he lifted your legs, sitting on the couch and then lowering your legs back down and into his lap.

“Not funny,” you huffed even as you made yourself comfortable.

The three of you lapsed into a comfortable silence for the rest of the night. Neither of the brothers went to their beds, and they didn’t offer to bring you to yours either; they knew that you wanted to be with them when you were hurting. You were certain that you could live through a million more migraines as long as you had your big brothers.

Sam taking time out of his busy life to relax with you and distract you from the pain for a bit was the best thing he could do for you. The same was true with Dean taking you out in Baby.

Though nothing they did could take away your pain, they did everything they could to make sure you could still have good times between the pain, and that made all the difference in the world.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale

[kasagia]

Familiar flame

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem!Grisha! reader Summary: Aleksander lost his Y/N the day he created the fold. The king's soldiers killed his one true love in front of his eyes. His despair and anger led to the creation of a dark fold. After centuries, Aleksander meets a girl identical to his beloved… her reincarnation. Will he be able to restore your memories? Could he get you back after centuries of mourning you? Or maybe Aleksander finally lost his mind... Nonsense from me: This is request from @morrigan-crowmwell I hope that you like it! ♡♡ And I'm veeeery excited to write your next request! (and to publish it soon ♡♡) P.S. I'm sorry it took me ages again, luckily I'll have a lot more free time now, so I promise it'll get better. 😅 Warning(s): references to reincarnation; Aleksander misses the reader and can't resist her (even if she doesn't remember him); the reader is a bit hysterical; the reader behaves like a little child spoiled by Aleksander; the reader has Aleksander wrapped around her little finger, but he doesn't care; the reader has a panic attack and hyperventilation; de@th mentions; NOT CHECKED grammatically and so on - I wanted to publish it as soon as possible Word count: 9,4k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @morrigan-crowmwell

"So many centuries on this earth, and you're still a naive, hopeless romantic. Tell me how do you do it, boy?"

Baghra taunted him without even looking up from her dinner. Aleksander growled, irritated by her lack of interest. He slammed his fist on the table, drawing the unfazed woman's attention to him.

"It's true, I saw her! It was her!"

"Aleksander... you must move on." Darkling snorted, jumping up as if burned from his chair. Baghra followed her son as he ran out of her hut, not giving up. If they both had something in common, it was their great stubbornness. "How many times have you seen this girl? You have to realize that she's not coming back. Y/N is dead, Aleksander. For hundreds of years."

"She is here! I danced with her month ago at the ball, you can't tell me I didn't because I remember her face perfectly. It is etched in my mind more permanently than any other memory."

"You wanted an answer to your question. Here it is. There is no such thing as reincarnation, the reappearance of someone on this world. We die once, Aleksander. Once and successfully. So whoever you met yesterday, even with a face that looks like her, is not Y/N. So you'd better leave the innocent girl alone."

The Darkling laughed bitterly, shaking his head. His mother would never see him as more than a small, quick-tempered, silly boy. He should get used to it after all these years.

"You think I'd come to you with this if she was just one of the faces like her? Me and my people have been watching her for a month now, ever since some snobbish nobleman's daughter came back to the palace and turned out to be the only woman I ever cared about in this saint-damn world. It must be her. I don't know how, why, and honestly, I don't care as long as it's really her. Neither should you - as far as I remember you cared for her more than for me."

"Aleksander. I know you loved her, but you have to let her go. People just don't rise from the grave." she tried to reason with him. But he knew better.

It must be you. Somehow the Saints took pity on his tortured soul and returned you to him, and he wasn't going to stay further away from you than necessary.

He will have you again in his life, arms, and bed.

No matter what he has to sacrifice to restore your memories.

"Just as they don't live forever, and yet we do." he growled as he mounted his horse and galloped back towards the Little Palace. He was in for a long night spent in his library, poring over books. If Baghra didn't want to help him, he would find the answer himself.

"You stupid boy..." Baghra snorted, shaking her head in disappointment.

Your death was both the worst and best thing for her son. You would never live as long as they did - your death would have come anyway, just in a less bloody way. Ordinary people were fragile, and their lives were shorter—one breath of Baghra or Aleksander equaled thousands of them. She had no idea why her son was so stubborn about getting you back, even though you were truly reborn. Aleksander would lose you again. Even he couldn't fight death itself and go against nature in such a matter... or so Baghra hoped.

The boundaries that Aleksander wouldn't cross in your name were practically nonexistent.

And she would be afraid of him more with you by his side - the most powerful Etherealki woman this earth has ever seen… a tribrid with the powers of Squaller, Inferni and Tidemaker.

~•♤♤♤•~

It all started a month ago.

Aleksander was at another of the king's balls, circulating among the generals of the First Army, trying to win their favor and consent to a slight modification of their plans. For his and Grishas' benefit, of course.

He would never have guessed that a conversation with General Petrova, the king's irritating, faithful soldier, would bring him more than a headache. It was usually with him that the Darkling had his greatest disputes during war councils.

However, while the general caused him the most trouble of all in the king's court, he was one of the few who respected the Darkling not for his powers, which instilled fear among other soldiers, but for the sake of his tactical, sound thinking.

Never in his life would Aleksander have thought that General Petrova's daughter would be a faithful doppelgänger of his long-dead beloved.

He was stunned as soon as he saw you enter the room.

Anywhere, even on his deathbed, he would have recognised that mischievous twinkle in your eyes whenever you were given full attention. You were a vision. Apparition. A fairy tale that was etched forever in his memory.

And he may have lived many lives, met millions of ordinary people and thousands of Grishas, but this face, the face of his loved one, whom he only met in his sweet dreams and darkest nightmares, had never ever flashed a second of his hundreds-year life. There were no humans even close to your beauty...

And then, after hundreds of years of sorrow, pain, and grief, he saw you again. He was again enchanted by your mesmerising eyes, your sweet, mischievous smile, your tempting lips... He let himself be lost for a while in the view of his beloved before questions started to cross his mind.

How? When? Who is she? From where? Could it really be you? Hundreds of years in pain, only for you to walk casually one day to one of the balls of a king whose ancestor killed you?

Aleksander didn't even notice when you approached him and General Petrova. But YOUR voice, his Y/N's voice, definitely brought him back into the world. Like a strong, vicious slap.

"Father. It was definitely too long." Aleksander almost broke down there. Being so close to someone who looked like you, hearing your voice again in REALITY, smelling the perfume so damn well know to him - the same one which made him lose his mind ages ago for you...

"General Kirigan. My daughter, Y/N. Y/N. General Kirigan, commander of the Second Army." your careful gaze finally met his. And Aleksander was gone.

Saints save him… even those bloody, fucking eyes he would die for were the same….

"It's a pleasure to meet you, General Kirigan." Aleksander couldn't do anything else but reach for your hand and kiss it—something he'd also dreamed of a thousand times, but in his dreams you only used his true, real name. "Your fame extends to the farthest reaches of Ravka. I am glad to see the legendary Darkling with my own eyes." Aleksander shivered as his title spilled out of your mouth. Not with mockery or insult or fear, but flatteringly, strongly… He had to control himself. It wasn't his Y/N… unless…

"I think these aren't very… flattering stories."

"You'd be surprised, General…" Aleksander could feel himself melting under her attentive gaze. The number of long-buried emotions overwhelmed him. And he himself felt his long-forgotten, dead, cold heart come to life again under each of your charming smiles, warm tone of voice, and enticing looks.

Now that he had had the opportunity to look at her more closely, he noticed all the (perfectly familiar) small details.

The way your hair was styled—so that a few strands stand out from your perfectly styled hairstyle, no long earrings, only small pearls that your hair would be harder to get into, delicate jewellery, not flashy like most women's, jewellery that instead of testifying to your wealth emphasised your beauty.

You seemed so familiar to him…

"Do you dance, General?" your question snapped him out of his mind about HIS Y/N.

He didn't dance on such occasions. Never. But he would be damned if he didn't try to find out how far your resemblance to his Y/N goes.

"If you wish, Lady Petrova." he replied with a charming smile, reverting to his image of a confident general of the Second Army.

"Please..." she grabbed his hand. The touch of her delicate skin against his rough made him shiver uncontrollably. He was putty in your hands... but he would be cursed if he let go, if he loses again the one thing that holds him firmly in this world. "Call me Y/N."

"Y/N." he mumbled, leading her to the dance floor. He gripped her securely around the waist, pulling her close enough to be considered appropriate. "I'm dying to see how this one's ends."

"Not only you… general." you peeked at him over those beautifully painted eyelids, biting your lips lightly. Reincarnation, doppelgänger, or real you, you always had to tease him, you always challenged him. And he was more than willing to play that game with you again… even if he wasn't holding his Y/N in his arms.

"Please..." he turned you around to pull you back to his chest. He smiled, remembering how those Y/E/C irises were the only thing that mattered to him hundreds of years ago… he marveled at how they still enchanted him. And having you in his arms again, so close he could smell your scent again… it made him dizzy. "Call me Aleksander." he whispered into your ear, getting close enough not to touch you but to feel the warmth of your cheek against his.

Was it wise to tell you his name? Absolutely not. Did he regret giving himself up to this moment? The answer came to him after a few seconds.

"Aleksander..." your soft whisper made him shiver. The old memories, the ones he tried to bury in his mind, the ones that were both sweetly blissful and devastating, came back to him. Foolish hope rose in him the moment your brow furrowed as if you, too, recognized the significance of what had just happened.

If he'd had any doubts before, he definitely knew now... he was cursed. And he didn't care enough to break this spell you put on him.

~•♤♤♤•~

"Y/N! Rise and shine, you lazy ass!" you groaned, covering your head with a pillow.

"Go away demon. It's too early for anything." you mumbled, snuggling into my comfy bed. You snorted in surprise when suddenly your friend threw herself on your bed and brutally tore the pillow off your head, laughing like a madwoman. "Y/F/N!"

"What have you been dreaming about?" she asked with a sly smile.

"About nothing." you muttered as you got out of bed and walked over to your closet to pick out your outfit for today.

"Yes? Is that why I found you grinning like a psychopath in love and mumbling someone's name? Is there some poor guy you finally like? Who could it be? A soldier? Maybe a nobleman?" you huffed in amusement as you walked out from the wardrobe.

"I haven't gone crazy yet. The world will burn before I voluntarily muzzle myself with marriage."

"Doesn't change the fact that someone caught your eye, does it?" she inquired with a curious smirk.

"Let's go, you hopeless romantic. I believe you dragged me out of bed over that very exciting tea time with the queen." you sighed, knowing full well that this meeting would give you a terrible headache.

"We're going to suffer together, sweetie. But cheer up. Genya will be there. You've liked her company lately, haven't you?"

"She's too good for these royal assholes." you replied, taking her arm and walking out of your room towards the palace gardens.

During that month, you quickly fit into the role you had to play at court. And thanks to your numerous travels, you managed to win enough favour with the queen to become a permanent member of her "group of snobbish noblewomen". You also met Genya, Grisha, an angel among the palace demons who was rather unpopular at court… well, at least not when the queen didn't need her Grisha's skills.

The meeting with the queen dragged on as usual, you couldn't help but wander your mind to your today's dream interrupted by Y/F/N.

"Aleksander!" you laughed, punching him lightly in the chest. "Stop teasing me."

"I don't do anything, milaya." he replied smiling innocently which made you snort. You crossed your arms and gave him a meaningful look.

You were in the little library at his house. (By the way, it's a miracle that he and Baghra found a place for their books in such a tiny hut.) You tried to get to one of the books on the upper shelves, but Aleks had other plans. He stood in front of you, and every time you stood on tiptoe to reach the book, he took the opportunity to grab your waist and pull you into a kiss.

"You do not?" you asked, trying to get to the book, but Aleksander caught your lips in a kiss again. "Aleksander!" you huffed, punching him in the chest with a laugh. "Your mother will kill me if I don't at least start reading this book." you complained, laughing at the smug man. He was so childish sometimes... You squealed as Aleksander suddenly grabbed your waist and pulled you close, burying his nose in your hair.

"I am more than strong enough to protect moya milaya from my bloodthirsty mother." he whispered, placing a tender kiss on your temple.

"Aleksander." you moaned as he moved his lips to your neck. You ran your hand through his hair, giving in to the feeling for a moment, until you remembered what you were supposed to do today. "How about a compromise?"you asked, taking his attention away from your neck for a moment.

"A compromise? And how do you want to negotiate your freedom, lapushka?"

"I'm not blind. I see you're clingier than usual today. Of course you won't let me out of your arms, which I can't really say I'm complaining about… But since I'm about to spend the rest of the day on your lap or in your arms, then you could at least read me the book Baghra told me to learn by heart." he was thinking, rubbing his nose against yours.

"I think I can accept it." you squealed in surprise as he picked you up bridal style, lifting you up so you could reach the book you needed. "But I reserve the right to give you some breaks. As your beloved I've got to make sure my little tribrid doesn't overwork herself." you giggled, making his smile of satisfaction only grow wider.

"What a good and caring lover you are, Aleksander." you teased, knowing full well what the study breaks were for… or rather, for whom.

"Have you ever doubted it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, the sparkle of amusement in his dark eyes only made your mood more up. You loved seeing him so happy, carefree.

"No. Never." you whispered, kissing him with all your love and tenderness…

Such nonsense dreams have plagued you almost every time since you met the general. Visions of his younger self and yours, as if the two of you lived together hundreds of years ago. It also didn't help your plan that, for some strange reason, you felt this... attraction, this desire to be close to him.

You didn't know where your sudden fondness for the Darkling came from, but one thing was certain. You had to get rid of it. And that's before your father presents the king with plans to permanently disband the Second Army and return all the Grishas to the slave system. You couldn't give in to some stupid feeling towards their general... not when everything you and your father had worked for was coming to an end.

"Lady Petrova. You're surprisingly quiet today." the queen has distracted you from the thoughts that have plagued you for weeks. You put on your learned, polite smile.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I'm not feeling well today. I think I have a slight migraine, but it should pass soon, Your Highness."

"You look paler than usual… Genya, lady Y/F/N. Take lady Y/N to the healers." you had to do your best to keep the frown from appearing on your face. This old witch…

"Your Grace." instead, you bowed to the queen and walked away with the two women at your side. You didn't speak to Genya until you were sure you were out of earshot of anyone other than the three of you. "I'm fine, Genya. I just had to get out of there."

"Then I should thank you for saving me from there too." she replied with a smile as tired as yours. "But the queen was right. You looked a little pale earlier. Are you sure everything's okay? I can improve your appearance and cover up those little dark circles under your eyes if you want."

"No need, sweetheart. But if you somehow have power over dreams, it would be really helpful." you joked, knowing full well that Grisha are incapable of entering other people's dreams… though you doubted it after the general's face haunted you at night in those strange dreams.

"It would be great to be able to do that."

"Anyway, thank you, Genya. You can hide somewhere in the palace. You deserve some time off." the woman nodded to you and headed towards the Grand Palace, leaving you and Y/F/N alone in the gardens.

"Okay, what's the matter? What are you dreaming about that you can't sleep? And why are you hanging around Grishas and Darkling lately? You want to settle him down or something?" your friend asked annoyed. You looked around, making sure you two were still alone.

"I'm not going to settle him down. My father wanted me to take care of our strong, dark general. After all, what's the best way to steer a man who doesn't care about anyone but his people, than an affair with a pretty, nobel woman?" you asked with a cunning smile.

You preferred to keep your strange dreams to yourself… at least until you were sure it was just a stupid figment of your imagination and growing teenage crush on a dark general.

"I don't quite understand… so what exactly are you doing with him?" she asked, growing suspicious as you headed towards the Little Palace.

"It's just a game. I charm him with my beauty, spend time with him, and so on, which makes him less interested in the war, and I don't have to put up with my father's complaining about me finally getting married. I serve both Ravka and my own interests. Isn't it wonderful?"

"You'll get burned. Be careful with him. He's a Darkling. If he finds out…" she warned you, slightly scared. You snorted, shaking your head. You looked around one more time before whispering conspiratorially to her.

"Then what will he do to me? It's in his interest to keep our little affair as a secret, the dignity of a man and all that crap won't let him seek revenge openly - he'll only embarrass himself even more. I'm perfectly safe." you replied confidently as you left the gardens. You smiled. According to your plan, the general should leave his palace right now to meet the council. It was your job to make sure he didn't get there… well, at least not for the most part.

"If you say so… But you have to admit, even you, that he's hot."

"That's true... which only makes it more interesting..." you saw Kirigan coming out of the Little Palace with one of his loyal dogs by his side... Ivan or the other, you couldn't remember. You smiled slyly, sensing a good opportunity. "Excuse me."

You didn't waste any time. You immediately approached the general, inwardly triumphant with the smile he sent you as soon as he saw you… the grimace on his companion's face was also the reason for your good mood.

"Lady Petrova."

"General Kirigan. So you do occasionally leave the Little Palace."

"Indeed it happens sometimes." he smiles back at your teasing, keeping his distracting dark eyes on you.

"Then I can't pass up this opportunity to take you anywhere other than the path leading to the Grand Palace or the gardens. It's a beautiful day for a ride, don't you think? Perhaps you could accompany me?"

"Actually…"

"It's a wonderful idea. Ivan, could you get our horses ready?" the general interrupted his Girsha. You lowered your head, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling victoriously. As Ivan passed you, you stepped closer to the general and turned your careful gaze back to him.

"He doesn't like me very much, does he?" you asked, catching the arm he offered you as you two walked to the stables together. "Your gruff companion." you added seeing his confused look.

The general snorted, placing his hand over yours, which made you shiver uncontrollably. You internally chastised yourself for such a… pathetic reaction to his little touch.

"Ivan is… specific." he finally replied making you chuckle.

"I saw the look he gave me when I took you away from him, like I was stealing his favorite cuddly toy." Kirigan snorted, which made you smile. You felt how your cheeks redden involuntarily at the sound of his laughter. "You don't have to always defend your people at all costs, General. Well, at least not in such a case." you replied with a smirk.

"Ivan is a good soldier and comrade… he can be funny once you get to know him."

"Then I guess you find volcra hilarious too."

"And maybe one or two of the queen's nobles." you gave him an offended look, placing your hand over your heart in a hurt gesture.

"Ouch. That's good that my company at least gives you some fun. It must be really hard to always be that grave, grumpy, dark general."

"Surely it can be lonely sometimes." his thoughtful, sombre statement ruined the fun atmosphere between you two.

For a brief moment, you could see the familiar twinkle of grief in his eyes before he hid it behind his mask of indifference. You knew that feeling. Especially after being transferred to different courts so many times. You had to master your emotions to perfection… especially the feeling of loneliness that was getting worse every day.

"Well, that's good that I have enough time to play a foolish, wayward, snobbish noble around you… maybe you won't feel so lonely, anymore." you joked, not knowing if you were saying it out of a duty to get close to him or from the depths of your completely lost and confused heart, which always acted like that near him.

"You're not the worst noblewoman I've ever met." the amused note returned to his voice, as did the twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Maybe you just didn't know me good enough?" you asked, stopping by the stables and letting go of his arm.

"Maybe..." he replied thoughtfully, not letting go of your hand.

You turned back to him. Your gaze lingered on your joined hands for a moment, until you shifted your confused gaze to him.

The moment your eyes met his, any questions you wanted to ask him escaped your mind. You could only stare blankly into his eyes. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you flashed an image of the younger Aleksander you dreamed of... the exact same one who was giving you an affectionate look like the general was doing now.

"Aleksander." you whispered, not even realising when the idea of saying his name popped into your head.

You were besotted, too mesmerised by the dark irises that stared at you like some saint, like you were all he ever wanted to look at for the rest of his life, to think of anything other than getting closer to him.

And the worst of it all was that you had no idea how you knew the smell of his cologne and why it reminded you of home, of safety. Or why he seemed so familiar to you…

"Yes, milaya?" you trembled. You knew he felt it; you knew he saw how you reacted to the nickname his younger version gives you every night in your dreams… and although it reminded you of something only a close person could say to their beloved, for the hell you didn't know what it meant or how he knew about it. But before you could answer something (or take the one little step that lasted between you and him to feel his lips on yours), Ivan arrived with your horses. "Thank you, Ivan." the general cleared his throat. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn't happy about being interrupted either.

"General. Let me remind you that in two hours…"

"Postpone all my appointments. I'll be unavailable." you couldn't help but send Ivan a victorious smile from behind Kirigan's shoulder, which made heartrender wince. Aleksander turned to glance at you, and you gave him a nice, polite smile, making sure the flash of malice disappeared from your eyes. The man shifted his confused looks to Ivan. "I'll be back tonight. Lady Petrova needs an escort."

"Of course, General, have a nice trip."

"Thank you, Ivan."

You gave Grisha a fleeting glance and malicious smile before you and Aleksander left the palace grounds. Ivan has tried to stop the general from joining you more than once this month... he has failed miserably each time. Seeing Grisha grumpier than usual was another advantage of your quest... besides being with Aleksander.

"Wanna race?!" you shouted, not giving him time to answer as you galloped your horse along, laughing as the general chased after you.

~•♤♤♤•~

"Forgotten fountain in the middle of the forest? I didn't think you knew such romantic places, general." you said with a teasing smile as you dismounted from your horses.

"You find it romantic?" he asked, throwing an amused glance over his shoulder as he tossed out the branches in the fountain. You smiled, internally laughing at how the great general commanding the entire Second Army was preparing the atmosphere for your pseudo date.

"Oh, don't tease me. You know what I meant. It's amazing that with your work schedule you have time to wander around and find places like this."

"You do realize I have free time sometimes, right?"

"Rearranging figures on a war table is no leisure time, General." Kirigan snorted, shaking his head in amusement. You smiled as you walked over to the fountain to stand next to him. Only then did you see what was so amazing about her that the general brought you here. It was dedicated to the Black Heretic. "Wait… that's your ancestor's story, isn't it?"

"You know it just from those old pictures?" he asked, apparently impressed with your knowledge, to which you snorted indignantly.

"Of course. Every child in Ravka know his story... well, or at least they should. To be honest, I'm not sure how ignorant the other nobles are, but I hope they're not that bad after all. But I'm guessing you didn't bring me here for a history lesson, did you?"

"When I was a boy, I used to run away and hide here once I realised I was the descendant of the most hated Grisha in Ravka. I've come here to throw a coin and make a wish in the fountain that I could be anyone else."

"A dangerous wish." I murmured as I looked at the pictures on the fountain to avoid his scrutinising gaze. "You never know what fate may befall you. It may turn out that things weren't so bad after all." I replied, remembering all the stories of noblewomen I had the opportunity to know... not all of them lived wonderful, fairy-tale lives. At least not the ones with powdered bruises.

"I devoted my life to undoing the greatest sin of my forbear. But I never seen this as a solution. Only as a reminder of the problem. They always need someone to blame."

"Every story needs a villain." you replied, sitting on the edge of the fountain, facing the general. "Sometimes it happens that there are several of them in one, if we look at the matter from the perspective of someone else. So forgive me if I say that I don't consider your ancestor to be evil incarnate."

"Why wouldn't you?" he asked curiously, walking over to you and sitting across from you.

"Every coin has two sides. Maybe he created a fold; maybe he wanted more power, but no one ever told it from his side. Maybe he wasn't the only villain in this story. Also, I don't believe in a golden hero and a vicious villain fighting doggedly against each other. There are no pure black or white people; we are all grey in our own way." you said, dipping your hand in the water, playing with it, and making small waves with your hand movements.

You glanced at the general, noticing that he was closely watching as you played with the water. You furrowed your brow, not knowing what so interesting he sees in this childish behaviour.

"And how gray are you?" his question snapped you out of your thoughts. You shrugged, still running your fingers through the water.

"I think I still have a long way to go to find out."

"What if I already know?" you frowned as you looked at him, which turned out to be your worst mistake. His dark eyes were to be your undoing…

You felt it again. This need to be close to him, this bond between you and him that was formed from the moment your eyes met in the ballroom a month ago. You were supposed to be his undoing, the downfall of the great, black general... so far, he's been the one who's been messing with your mind effectively, making you doubt everything your father ever taught you about your superiority over the Grishas. And you played the role Kirigan expected of you, like a foolish, naive girl.

"And how would you know that?" you whispered, cursing yourself for the obvious weakness in your voice.

Kirigan placed his hand on yours, the one you used to lean on at the fountain. His touch sent that weird feeling into your chest and made you shiver uncontrollably again. You were losing control… and the worst part was that you didn't mind at all.

"I feel like I've known you and waited for you my whole life. As if you were long lost part of me, which finally came back." you couldn't get rid of that terrible feeling of déjà vu that came over you after his words.

Somewhere in the back of your mind and deep in your heart, you had the feeling—no, you were SURE—that you had been in this situation before. That he once held your hand, telling you that you were destined to be together and that the stars, fate, destiny, saints, gods, or whoever was watching over you were responsible for bringing your souls together.

But it was impossible. You didn't know him before, you couldn't. You've never been to the king's palace until now…

However, everything ceased to matter the moment he leaned in, crossing the short distance between you and catching your lips in a kiss.

You gasped in surprise, your only warning being his tighter grip on your hand, which you only noticed after his soft lips gently pressed against yours. However, you had the sense to return his kiss, deepening it just as you felt Aleksander about to pull away from you.

He grabbed your waist tightly with one arm, pulling you to him, but he never let go of his firm grip on your hand.

You groaned, sinking into the so damn familiar closeness of his body against yours, taking in every ounce of his warmth and scent. But it was his gentle biting on your bottom lip that made you forget anything other than his lips on yours and let yourself get completely lost in the moment. You took your hand out of the water, grabbing the back of his head to get as close to him as possible, when suddenly a huge wave of cold, chilly water splashed you.

You gasped, breaking away from Kirigan. You sighed as cool water dripped from your hair onto your already-soaked dress that was sticking to your skin. You shifted your confused gaze to the equally wet man in front of you, who stared at you with an incomprehensible, fascinated twinkle in his eye.

"What have just happened?" you gasped, glancing at the now empty fountain.

"Are you asking about our kiss or the fact that you just demonstrated tidemaker's abilities?"

"What? No. I can't be Grisha. I…"

"Have you ever been tested, milaya?" he asked softly, so calmly he almost managed to calm your frantically beating heart. But you couldn't shake the feeling of panic rising within you. All plans would go to hell if you turned out to be… one of THEM.

"You know perfectly well what it is like among the nobles. They would rather kill or throw away a child with such powers." you replied, marvelling at how you managed to sound cold and emotionless despite your growing fear.

Kirigan frowned, obviously dissatisfied with your ability to cover up your emotions. What you didn't know was that your eyes betrayed all your emotions to him. He'd stared at them for so long that it would be impossible for him now not to be able to read your emotions.

"Well… it's always better to know, isn't it?" you stared at him for a moment before you nodded uncertainly, swallowing nervously. You couldn't be Grisha. That… whatever happened, it couldn't be it. "May I?" he made sure, pointing to the sleeve of your dress. You nodded silently.

For a moment, the world stops. It's just you and the general, who, with unusual delicacy for him, rolls up the sleeve of your wet dress and uses his sharp-pointed ring to cut your skin.

You're both shocked and oddly excited to see the water gushing out and the hot fire coming from where he cut your skin. Suddenly, a wind rises around you, drying you both and blowing some of the leaves off the trees into the empty fountain. You freeze, feeling the dormant power coursing through your veins, which the general's touch awakens with incredible ease.

It's like he's bringing to life a version of yourself you don't know...

"You are a Grisha. Etherealki Tribrid to be precise." he says, breaking the silence between you. You raise your confused gaze back to him, noticing that he's still studying your face. Weighing, evaluating, expecting something, and having hope so clearly written in his dark eyes that for a moment you are at a loss for words.

"You… you don't seem surprised." you manage to get out of you. You are terrified of your weakness right now. But with the general staring at you with such... tenderness and longing, you're not sure which of you has put your heart in more danger. You just don't know what caused this sudden, overt display of affection for you.

"I felt your power. Only someone special could carry such a huge amount of energy. You and I are going to change the world, Y/N."

"But… I can't… no one can know about this. Please, Aleksander." you pleaded in a panic, gripping his hand tightly. "Promise me that this will stay between us. If my father finds out about this… if the court finds out… Please, Aleksander." the man was staring at you. Apparently, the prospect of having a tribrid in his army was too tempting for him to just forget what had happened here. You had to convince him otherwise. "Wouldn't it be better if it stayed between us? You could train me yourself. Secretly teach me how to use… this. Wouldn't it be better to have a secret weapon? Someone who can be summoned to the battlefield if needed and used as an element of surprise?"

"I don't want to use you." he growled, wrinkling his nose as he realized how sharp his words had come out. "I want you to be my equal, Y/N. But fine. We'll keep everything that happened here to ourselves. You'll come to my office every night so we can train."

"Every night? You want to cause a scandal, General?" you ask, regaining your ability to joke and banter.

For now, you hide all your doubts, fear and greyness that your life will change irreversibly in the back of your head. You allow yourself to get lost in the general's eyes for a while before returning to real life… before you have to decide what to do about the "Grishas case", knowing your newfound abilities now.

"Do you care?" you know what he's asking you, but he doesn't know how many different meanings his question has for you. And you're afraid that once he finds out about your plan against him and against his people, he'll stop looking at you with that... adoration in his eyes. Because, for some strange reason, you want him to look at you like that.

"No…" you replied, moving your gaze between his mouth and eyes. "I guess not."

~•♤♤♤•~

"I can't believe it! How did you know that was my favorite dish?!" I ask him after another grueling session of our training as he returns with a dinner brought to his door by servants.

"I have my ways." he responds, laughing as you practically pounce on the food ravenously. You didn't realize that using Grisha's powers was so… exhausting.

"Just like my allergy to the awful pollen that's out now, what particular, specific type of tea do I like, and what books do I prefer to read? What's next? Just hand me my favourite flowers and tell me it's pure case?" you laugh over your plate, glancing at him briefly. The general blushes slightly and clears his throat awkwardly. "Oh, Saints, you do have flowers for me, don't you?" you asked as a little smirk started to form on your face.

"It seems to you, vain little tribrid." you tremble at his words, and that sick feeling of deja vu follows you every time his damn dark irises pierce your soul. If he wanted you to go crazy, you're sure he was well on his way to making it happen.

Aleksander, on the other hand, stared longingly at you, searching for any trace of recognition in your eyes. How many times in those training sessions has he wished your memories of living with him would come back to you? He didn't know. Ever since he made sure you displayed the powers of virtually all ethereals, he's spent countless sleepless nights in his bed dreaming of the moment you'll whisper that damn nickname you love for him.

But nothing like that was coming.

Instead, he had to fight this urge to kiss you to death, to hold you forever in his safe arms where nothing could hurt you. He had to fight his longing for your slightest touch, your tender gaze, and the unconditional love you had. And with each passing day, he cursed himself for his inability to remember the life you two had spent together.

He was desperate enough to talk to his mother about it. He went to her as soon as he was sure it was really you to brag about his hunch and victory over her judgement. And complain about your innate ability to spite him and not remember him when he worked so hard to make it happen.

"If it's not her, then explain to me how she's already ruining all my plans and is getting on my nerves?" he asked, raising an inquiring eyebrow at Baghra.

"Just because you have a natural bad luck with women doesn't mean Y/N is back from the dead." she replied ironically, not even looking up at him.

"It is her. And when I prove it, forget about seeing her, because I won't let you."

"I'm not a spoiled child, General." you laugh back, snapping him out of his thoughts as cool water hits his chest. He raises an eyebrow at you, failing to keep an amused smile from spreading across his lips.

Saints, how he wants to kiss that malicious smirk off your alluring lips. But he has to be careful with you. He has to control himself. He can't lose you or scare you away now, not when he's so close to getting HIS Y/N back.

"You're definitely acting like one." he replies teasingly as he takes out the flowers hidden behind his back and hands them to you.

You sigh in shock before another heart-melting smile appears on your lips. You dip your nose in the flowers, and Aleksander tries to remember this moment forever. The silent hope that you will remember one of the many times he gave you those special flowers you loved bursts into unwillingness in his chest.

"Please, as if you don't like to spoil me…" you just reply teasingly, reminding him how fate was never on his side. It would be impossible for him to just get you back like that.

"I'd throw all the jewels in the world at your feet just to see that beautiful, wide smile spread across your lips." you tremble under his heavy, intent gaze, feeling him ignite that familiar, strange fire inside you, calling for him.

The answer to his confession just slipped out of your mouth as a whisper.

"You don't need jewels to make me smile like a fool in love."

Aleksander flinched as he recognised the words you said to him—the exact same words you used in response to his confession hundreds of years ago. You liked torturing him with it. Remind him of stolen moments with you in the woods, away from the king's men, his mother, and other envious people too scared of your abilities to see you as anything more than a dangerous monster. You loved throwing him into the past, while you stuck hard to what was happening now. At times like this, he promised himself that once he had you back, he would never let you go. He won't be that weak to let someone take you from him again.

You, in turn, watched him bewildered as another vision/memory flashed before your eyes. His warm lips on your wind-cold skin, his whispered promises in your ear as he held you close to him, his shadows dancing around you, shielding anyone from seeing you two.

That memory revived in your mind as the general's lips met yours.

Kissing him, enjoying the firm grip around your waist, you had those strange visions again. You were beginning to wonder if the general had seen through your cunning plan and decided to punish you by driving you crazy with these supposed memories.

But you didn't want to do anything about it. Not when he felt so good against you.

You kiss him greedily, tangling your hands in his hair and pulling him closer to you. He picks you up, placing you on his war table. Your hands travel up his shoulders to the buttons of his kefta and his to the strings of your corset at the back of your dress...

Just then, a loud knock interrupts you.

You laugh in disbelief that they're bothering you again. Aleksander smiles, biting his lip as he looks at you with amusement in his eyes. How he missed your sincere, carefree laugh.

"Go see what it is." you whisper to him as you slide off the table to stand on your own feet. Aleksander smirks mischievously and leans in to steal a kiss from you. You giggle as you push him away and whisper a softly "go".

You blush, feeling like a teenager caught kissing a boy. And you have a very strange feeling that this has happened before...

"Aleksander!" you squeal, laughing as quietly as you can. "Someone will see us!" you reprimand him by tapping him lightly in the chest.

"Only if you keep being so loud. Besides, how can you blame me for wanting to kiss my beautiful beloved after weeks apart?"

"Your secret beloved I would like to point out. Baghra and my parents will kill us if they find us here." you remind him, only smiling wider as his grip tightens around your waist.

"They'll have to go through my shadows first… that gives us enough time to escape."

"Well, well, what a cunning boyfriend I have. I like that plan of yours." I whisper into his lips, teasing him, as I move away each time he wants to kiss me.

"Y/N?" Aleksander's whisper and his gentle grip on my shoulder pulls me out of my memories. "Everything's all right?" he looks at you with concern in his eyes and something else, something like longing mixed with hope. You have no idea what it could be.

NO. I have strange visions of you where you love and need me more than anything in this world. I have dreams of a reality where it's just us, too busy loving ourselves to see anything else or care about all the problems in the world. And I have a feeling that I'm going to go crazy if you once again arouse in me that feeling of familiarity and fire that for some unknown reason cries out desperately for your slightest touch and affection. - you think.

"I'm fine, just thought of something. What did Ivan want from you?" I ask with a gentle smile.

"I have to go now. The First Army soldiers and my Grishas have reportedly gotten into some kind of fight. I need to investigate it."

You freeze, knowing full well what's going on. Your and your father's plan. Kirigan is about to get into the middle of a fight caused by the people of the first army (actually hired by your father's thugs). A fight with a general defending his people in the main role will start, which your father and the king are supposed to come across by "pure accident". You were supposed to let him get into your trap.

"I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't worry, it's probably some stupid skirmish." he assures you, but you know better. You know that once he goes there, he will be banished at best for suspicion of treason and wanting to start a rebellion - rumours your father is now spreading to the king.

Your brain screams for you to let it go. You were Grisha, but people like you would never accept you; you knew that. And the nobles would kick you out if they found out about your powers; it was safer for you to get rid of the general, the only person who knew about your abilities.

But your stupid heart already bled at the thought of putting Aleksander in danger and being the cause of his downfall—the thing you were supposed to be so proud of only a few months ago.

"Wait!" you scream, reaching for his hand before he steps away from you. You lost. You lost the war with the devil and sold him your heart and the soul he had anyway, since he kissed you at the fountain, since he started appearing in your dreams as a strange vision of an alternate world where you live with him as his. A vision you desperately wanted to come true. "Please don't go."

"Why?" he asks, placing his hands gently on your shoulders.

"I... you can't... trap... my father... and king... they..." you hyperventilate, tears welling up in your eyes uncontrollably, and an indescribably great feeling of unease seizes you, making it a huge challenge to take even the slightest breath.

Suddenly, all you hear is a buzzing in your ears. Slowly, your knees weaken, and you fall straight into the waiting arms of Aleksander, who looks like he's screaming something. You are enveloped in blissful darkness.

But before you lose your consciousness one thought runs through your mind.

What the hell did I did?

~•♤♤♤•~

You opened your eyes. It was dawn. You were in a clearing near some castle ruins. There were a lot of soldiers around you.

You slowly got up on your elbows and lifted yourself off the ground. You tried to push your way through the crowd of soldiers, but as soon as your arm was about to touch one of them, you felt yourself walking through it. You froze in place.

The sound of Aleksander's voice snapped you out of your daze. You walked forward, passing through the soldiers as you reached the stairs of the palace ruins.

It was a younger version of him, exactly the one you saw in your dreams. But this time it wasn't a pleasant dream. The love in his eyes was replaced by pure fear and fury.

You turned to where he was staring and gasped as you spotted a beaten, bloodied version of yourself held by one of the king's soldiers.

"Surrender. Or your girl will die." Aleksander stared at the younger version of you, trying to make eye contact with you, making sure you were still holding on to your life for him, despite the gruesome state you were in. "This one was brave. She was willing to die than reveal your hiding place. Fortunately, we got another, weaker one. Now, you better hurry before that bitch bleeds to death."

Tears began to form in Aleksander's eyes. He raised his trembling hands in surrender. You lifted your head with difficulty, watching him.

Then all hell broke loose. You set a soldier on fire and started a great fire. You tried to approach Aleksander and he came to you, but the soldiers around you were faster. One of them caught you; the rest kept Aleksander, who was struggling with all his strength, from rushing to your rescue and summoning his shadows. The soldier drew his dagger.

Your eyes and Aleksander's did not separate for a moment. Desperation and fear were reflected in his eyes, which met your gaze full of sadness and fear for his life.

"Aleksander, I love you-AGH!" you tell him when a soldier pierces your heart with a dagger in front of your beloved.

"Y/N!" Aleksander screams, tears in his eyes obscuring his vision at your last breath and your last look at him. He is overcome with rage, grief, and frustration so great that he can do nothing but scream.

His scream proves deadly. Deadly for his enemies.

His grief, desperation, and tremendous pain piercing his heart and seeing his beloved Y/N die raised within him a power so great that it covered the world in the darkness of his shadow.

And so the fold is born.

And Aleksander remains utterly alone in his darkness.

~•♤♤♤•~

You jump out of bed, screaming. You just saw yourself die... but it wasn't you, was it? It's just your twisted imagination. Aleksander couldn't... couldn't create the fold. The Black Heretic lived hundreds of years before you; it couldn't be true. It's just your sick imagination. You kept telling yourself.

You looked around the room, recognising that you were in the general's bedroom. You changed out of his black shirt, which you don't know who put you in, and left the bedroom in a hurry. You didn't know how Aleksander would treat you after he found out about your father's plan, and he certainly did after your panic attack in his war room. You also didn't want to risk getting caught in the general's chamber.

You were about to leave Aleksander's chamber, but someone's hand grabbed your arm tightly and covered your mouth. You tried to wriggle out of his attacker's grip, but in vain. Fortunately, the stranger let you go as soon as you entered one of the secret passages of the Little Palace.

You turned around, freezing as you came face to face with the woman haunting your dreams…

"Who are you?" you whispered in horror, recognizing the woman as the light from her torch illuminated her face.

"It doesn't matter. You need to get out of here as soon as possible." she grabbed your hand again in a strong, bruising grip, but this time you managed to pull away from her.

"Who the hell are you?! Why am I dreaming about you and some Aleksander?! How do I know you, Baghra?!"

"Hush for the saints! We're not far from his room." she tried to silence you, fearing that at any moment you would bring Aleksander back to his chambers here.

"Whose room? General's? What does he have to do with it? What the hell is going on here?!"

"Shut up you stupid girl before he comes here. I'm trying to save you."

"Saved me from what? I don't need a hero, thank you very much. All I want to know is why I'm having these fucking visions about you. Who are you? Why am I having some weird flashbacks about you from hundreds of years ago?" you ask, tired of it all, trying to finally get to the truth, whatever it may be.

"Aleksander was right… it's true. It's really you." she says in shock, eyeing you closely as you use all your powers in anger, summoning both fire, water and a light breeze in the deserted secret passage.

"Aleksander? Which one? Kirigan or some other? Answer me for the love of saints!" you scream at her, feeling like you're about to lose your mind at any moment.

"Child, there is only one Aleksander. My son. Aleksander Morozova. Black Heretic. General Kirigan and many other names he's taken since you died."

"What? What are you talking about? It's impossible, a Black Heretic lived hundreds of years ago… wait. Since I died? What do you mean by since I die?" the vision you just had haunts you again. Your blood, Alexander's screams. Screams of people turned by his grief, anger and rage into volcra as he creates a fold...

"You real name is Y/N…"

"BAGHRA!" Aleksander's furious scream echoes through the deserted corridor. He walks over to me faster than I can blink and stands between me and his supposed mother. "Go away."

"Aleksander..." she begins in a serious tone, but one dark look from the general keeps her silent. Never, not even during their worst quarrels, had he dared to oppose her so openly, so hostilely.

"I said... Go. Away." Baghra looks at you. Half in disappointment, half in fear, knowing full well the reason why her son is ready to use his shadows on her.

She lets go. This time. She knows full well he can't bring back your memories anyway. Or at least she hopes so.

Shee leaves you alone in a dark corridor. Aleksander slowly turns to you and reaches for you, but you pull away before his fingertips even try to touch you. He freezes. He watches you fearfully, afraid of what Baghra might have told you to make you so disgusted by his small touch.

"Don't take a step further. Why do I know you? Why did YOU know me before anything started between us? What the hell is this all about?!"

"Y/N... you need to calm down." he tries to calm you down as he sees you gasping for breath again. He reaches out to touch your cheek tenderly but you jump away from him. The fire begins to slowly circulate around your hands as you unknowingly summon it.

"DO NOT TOUCH ME! Who are you? Who are you to me? That's true? Are you a Black Heretic? What is going on here?!" you scream, you feel an indescribable power flowing through you that you are unable to control, a flood of emotions floods your mind, and your powers go out of control as a great wind rises and the corridor begins to slowly fill with water. The fire in your hands grows bigger, more alive, more uncontrollable.

"My milaya, please... try to calm down for me." he says, taking a step towards you with his hands up so you can see his every little move, every attempt to touch you.

"What am I?" you whisper, your tears flow freely, the water begins to rise faster and faster, the wind is so great that it blows both his and your hair and his black kefta in all directions, and the living fire from your hands prevents him from approaching you without risk of burning himself. But Aleksander doesn't care.

He wades towards you through the water that comes up to his hips and cups your face with both hands, forcing you to look him in the eyes. As soon as his skin touches yours, everything stops. The wind stops blowing, the fire disappears, and the water stops at a constant level. It is quiet. Eerily silent as you stare at him in a daze, tears dripping from your eyes into the makeshift river you created in the hallway.

"You know who you are. Just reach for it. Please, come back to me, Y/N Y/L/N. Moya milaya, moya lapushka..." he pleads, resting his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes. The flood of vivid memories makes your head hurt, but as soon as all the images are gone from your eyes, you open them to look into those familiar dark irises that pierce through you. And you cry with relief, finally knowing perfectly well how you know him, why you associate him with home, peace, love, unconditional devotion.

"Sasha?" you whisper, afraid you've gone completely insane, that it's all a nasty, twisted figment of your imagination.

And Aleksander sighs with relief hearing that damn diminutive he missed so much.

"It's me. My beloved Y/N. My life. My Light. My tribrid. You are finally here." he takes you in his arms as tears flow freely down your cheeks. You snuggle into him, your nose brushing his neck as you inhale the damn good smell of his perfume. Aleksander buries his nose in your hair, trying to hold back tears as he trembles uncontrollably. He finally had you. After hundreds of years, months of torture where he had you at his fingertips but couldn't touch you properly, you were finally with him. "Eya fyela chi." he whispers in old Ravkan, making you laugh in relief.

"I love you too, Sasha. I promise I'm not going anywhere anymore. Nobody and nothing will take me away from you."

"Brave of you to think I'd let you go anywhere. You stay by my side. Forever. I won't waste such a wonderful gift from the saints, my little flame." he says, kissing your temple.

You shiver for the first time enjoying the familiar feeling of love and warmth that comes with this tender gesture, often repeated by him in the past.

He leaned in, catching your lips in a passionate, long-awaited kiss. And you couldn't do anything other than enjoy the taste of his lips on yours and how you could create new memories with him without the old ones attacking you with every touch he made. You are no longer an intruder in your own body. And the unknown fire calling for him turned into the familiar flame of love.

[carrymelikeimcute]

Lets talk about Izzy and why being in drag is (potentially) huge for his arc.

The verdict on Izzy in S1 seems to be either 1. he's an angry, repressed queer guy with internalised homophobia or 2. he's an angry guy with homophobia. I would like to present to you - secret option number 3. Neither of the above (but a bit of 1).

I think he's an angry queer guy, who's terrified of the danger that lurks outside of appearing constantly masc and strong, and seeing other people apparently not realise or care how vulnerable they are, drives him absolutely spare. It's more complicated than simply internalising homophobia, it's misogyny and self-loathing and a response to being at sea for his entire life and struggling to survive - and we see what just a few months of that does to Lucius.

This is reflected in his talks with Ed in S1 - Ed's whimsy in the face of the approaching Spanish ship might get them all killed. Ed's public breakdown, if it got out, would destroy the reputation that protects Ed, Izzy and their entire crew. Stede is a pet, he's a weakness, and so he needs to be eliminated. That's how Izzy functions - he has like two bits of exposed skin, one outward emotion and he's lived for a long time like that - it works. It's the kind of strength he understands. He's convinced that him reining Ed in is what's keeping them alive.

BUT in S1 he sees that being open, being yourself, isn't a death sentence - and he HATES it. Because if that's true, look how much time he's wasted.

Ed and Stede's very whimsical lighthouse fuckery WORKS. Stede, in his frilly suits with his rec room and his fucking library, skates past death over and over again like he's scotch guarded from consequences. Ed and Stede make moon-eyes at each other and no one uses that against them - until Izzy does, because it's going to happen sometime (he thinks) so it's better it's him, because at least then Ed will survive.

Lucius is just hooking up with Pete in the galley while Wee John is right there - this is something that's an unspoken part of ship life, a shameful thing, and Izzy's the only one it bothers. Lucius uses flirtation to get out of scraping barnacles under armed guard, and uses it again to shut Izzy down. Lucius isn't ashamed of being flirtatious, seductive and femme - and Izzy loses to that tactic. He can't beat it with yelling and anger. It's a sort of strength he doesn't expect or understand - the strength that comes from knowing who you are. Of 'carrying yourself like you're cute' - because if you're confident, it'll work.

But he still has a huge amount of resentment for anyone who is allowed to be themselves - because he can't be. Especially in Ed's case - one of them has to be 'the strong one' and he thinks that's him.

Then, Season 2 happens.

In the space of a few episodes, Izzy learned that sharing your feelings is fucking difficult, painful and takes a lot of courage. He's had no choice but to be weak, spilling out all these ugly emotions and being physically dependant on others and in that weakness he wasn't destroyed - he was rebuilt. A little bit of that guard comes down and it doesn't kill him. So, he takes his shirt off and no one stabs him in the back. He's got a gold unicorn leg and he still absolutely wrecks shit up on a raid. He does something a little arty, opens up a tiny bit to Lucius, and he still doesn't die. It doesn't make things worse, it makes them better.

Enter, the drag episode. Suddenly, we've got Izzy in drag. A masculine style of drag, but still, drag. All that internal change, the shifting meaning of strength and masculinity, is externalised, but he's still himself - his face tattoo is redrawn as part of the makeup because it's still his face, if anything, it's MORE his than ever - AND THEN THE SHIP GETS ATTACKED, his worst nightmare - he's as far from hyper-masc as he can be, and now he's in danger.

BUT

In the teaser, we see Izzy telling people who are, presumably there to torture him and the crew, that it's just going to turn him on. He's using Lucius' technique of disarming people with flirty banter. I can't see S1 Izzy being able to do that.

He gets to dress in drag, be sassy and still win a fight because he's strong as shit and that doesn't go away just because he allows himself to be other things too.

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (VII) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The summer before your sixth year is another fruitful one spent at Grimmauld Place. Regulus and Y/N have an insightful conversation and grow closer than before.

Part VI / Part VIII / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Cheers to another summer break! The not canon compliant warning is starting to become more apparent. The slow burn is burning a bit.

The weeks following the confrontation at the Ministry left the Wizarding World at a standstill, the alleys and streets seeming to grey and titter in jumbled whispers and conspiracies. Minister Fudge could no longer make a public enemy out of Harry, having witnessed the return of Voldemort for himself. Unsurprisingly, Fudge resigned shortly after Dumbledore was reinstated. 

Despite the retreat of public scrutiny from his back, Harry fared no better than he had the summer before, conceivably managing far worse. You don’t remember much after Sirius’ attack, only that Luna quickly rushed to your side and grabbed Regulus’ portrait from your hands, hiding it in your jacket as Auror Tonks made her way over to your glass-eyed form. 

You could never thank Luna enough because you distinctly remember being unable to feel your limbs due to shock, and you’d rather not have to explain your portrait predicament. Tonks’ words barely registered, but you heard one thing loud and clear: Sirius was not dead. 

But he did not get better. 

Currently, he occupied a suite room at St. Mungo’s, his consciousness torn away as he remained in a frigid coma. After Harry had recovered from his clash with Bellatrix and Voldemort, he had nearly tackled you to the ground, realizing that your quick thinking to grab Sirius with your spell was the only reason he was still alive. 

Breaking the news to Regulus was difficult since you knew how much he loved his brother, despite the strained relationship they had. Regulus was devastated by the news and he seemed to pale further when you told him that it was Bellatrix that got him. Pureblood family issues were so complicated. 

After your brief conversation about Sirius’ status, neither of you had the energy to talk about Regulus’ disappearance, so you ended up pocketing away his portrait. 

Despite the relief you felt because Regulus was back with you, you couldn’t bring yourself to face him just yet. Your reluctance to face him again led you to leave him in your pocket for a few weeks without talking to him. 

However, you knew you’d have to face him eventually, and it was just the opportune time to do so. Harry and the Weasleys were going to spend the summer at the Burrow, but you pleaded with Dumbledore to allow you to return to Grimmauld Place under the guise that you would research ways to help Sirius. 

Bellatrix had hit him with a highly complex dark curse, one that was foreign to the healers at St. Mungo’s, meaning that it was likely a curse found in the Black library. 

Your excuse wasn’t a lie, but it was far from the whole truth. You also wanted to further explore your magical connection with Regulus and the disappearing room, still perplexed by the wisp of magic you felt last time. But it seemed that there was little use hiding that fact from Dumbledore, as he gave you a small, all-knowing smile before giving you permission, “The world seems to have strange ways of bringing people together. I do hope you find what you are seeking.” 

At first, your heart nearly gave out because you assumed that he had used legilimency on you, but your ring gave no indication of it, so you presumed it was just a Dumbledore thing. 

It seemed that Dumbledore and Luna were aware of Regulus’ existence to some degree, which was no surprise, one was a legendary wizard, the other an understated seer. Their knowledge only served to worry you though, as you weren’t confident that Voldemort was none the wiser to Regulus’ existence now. 

If Dumbledore knew with what limited time you spent around him, there was no doubt Voldemort was itching from suspicion. 

Vengeance was practically Voldemort’s middle name (even if Harry insists that it’s Marvolo). You still had no idea how Regulus had wronged Voldemort, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to find out for the sake of your own sanity. 

As the green flames engulfing your vision slowly dissipate, you carefully step out from the floo network and brush away the ash from your clothing. Spinning around, you faintly smile at the nostalgic environment. Grimmauld Place was far from a welcoming home, but it had a certain knack for bringing along pleasant surprises. 

Before you can set out to dive into research, a popping sound has you whirling your head downwards towards the noise. 

“Master Regulus’ friend is back” Kreacher’s voice is tuned with surprise, but he looks pleased to see that you’re alone, evidently still not as accustomed to your friends or the Order members. You were secretly quite flattered to have the elf’s approval–not that you’d ever admit it to anyone. 

Grinning down at the elf, you wave as he moves to grab your trunk, “Hi, Kreacher. I’ll be here awhile, I need to research a few things to help your Master.”

“Help Master?” Kreacher turns his eyes to you in apprehension.

Nodding solemnly, you release a small sigh before answering, “Yes, he’s been in an accident.”

At your words, Kreacher’s grip on your belongings loosen, turning to look at you with a face full of anguish, “What is wrong with Master Regulus?!” 

Sputtering a little from shock, you quickly placate the elf, still reeling at the fact that he was capable of that much worry, “No, no, Regulus is fine. I’m talking about Sirius, he was cursed by a dark spell and the healers don’t know how to fix it.” 

Kreacher’s tense form relaxes considerably and he grunts, turning back to his task of gathering your items, “So, Master Sirius still breathes? Pity.” 

Expecting a far more violent response at the news, you simply nod, allowing silence to blanket between the both of you. You briefly considered asking the elf if he was knowledgeable of Bellatrix’s ledger of favorite curses, but decided it would be your last resort. 

You weren’t sure if Kreacher would be of much help considering it involved Sirius. 

“Kreacher, I’ll be in the library. You can put my things in the guest room I stayed in last summer.” Your words are met with a slight nod and that’s all the sign you need before you’re bounding up the stairs and in the direction of the expansive library. 

Much of the content filling the shelves of the sealed library were enigmatic, but you hoped that you could kill two birds with one stone and find information for both of your goals. How lucky that both of your problems involved the Black brothers. 

As you trailed through the aisles of shelves, running your finger along the leather-bound books, you sighed as you realized you were putting off your chat with Regulus. At first, it was truly because you didn’t know how to breach the subject of his portrait traveling, but now it was also because you felt guilty for avoiding him for so long. 

Rip the bandaid off, stop stalling or he’ll really leave this time around. 

Reaching into your jacket, you carefully extricate the frame out of your pocket, bringing it to eye-level. Plastering on an unsure smile, you feel relief flush through your veins as Regulus greets you with his own soft smile. 

“Little bird, it’s been a while.” Regulus’ voice is smoother than you remember, and you find yourself shuffling around as your heart begins to pound uncomfortably. Bloody crush giving you heart palpitations. 

“Hi, Reg. It has been. I’m sorry for not talking to you sooner, I’ve just been thinking.” Even though your excuse was flimsy at best, Regulus shakes his head firmly, as if all was forgiven on your part. 

Warmth shines in his eyes as he alleviates your worries, “It’s not your fault, it is entirely mine for mindlessly leaving you alone that day without a word.” 

Shocked by his initiative to bring it up first, you can only nod mutely as he continues, “I’m sorry, Y/N. My reason for leaving…it was entirely childish, and these few weeks of not communicating with you allowed me to contemplate some more. I want to be honest with you, if you’re up to hear it.”

“Of course, and I want to be honest with you as well, Reg.” Your nod and soft smile seem to strike a chord in him, causing him to emit a low laugh of fondness. 

Tilting his head to the side, his eyes seemed to shine brightly at you, “You’re always honest with me, little bird. I think I owe it to you—to us, to be transparent this time around.” 

You have to make a conscious effort to stop his ‘to us’ from replaying over and over again in your head. 

Huffing in playful annoyance at his ability to endlessly fluster you, you decide to take a stab at his declaration, “Alright, if you’re sure, then…I guess we should start with the most obvious question, why did you leave that night?” 

Dragging his hand up to tuck a loose curl behind his ear, he gives a little pause before answering you, “I was scared.” Seeing your confused look, he continues, “I was scared because…your injury. When I saw it, I was furious–and not at you, but towards Umbridge. I was terrified because I care for you… so much, but there’s nothing I can do to help you in those kinds of situations.” 

He cares. It was so different hearing it verbalized by him. 

The stress weighing on you seems to melt away, the furrow between your brows letting up as you lightly come to your own conclusion, “So you left because you were angry.” 

He shakes his head lightly, “It was not just anger, but also fear. Frankly, I feel a sense of devotion to you and I was frightened by it. I left because I thought that it would be logical to languish my connection to you, but I realized how foolish my thoughts were. I am stuck with you, just as you are stuck with me.” 

His words were genuine, but you could tell he was dancing around a deeper meaning. Still, you were glad for his honesty. It was a step forward in your relationship. 

You feel yourself getting choked up by his announcement, but before you can even muck up a response, he continues, “I was anxious that day, before I even took notice of your wound. Before you casted that muffliato, I had heard the blast and thought that you were being attacked. But I waited to hear your voice, maybe a reassurance that it was all okay. When everything became muffled, I was worried that you were hiding everything from me because something was happening to you.” 

“Oh.” Well, when he put it like that, it’s no wonder he was so furious that day. 

He nods at your realization, finishing his explanation quietly, “You are so kind, little bird. Even in that moment where you could have been in danger, you still put your consideration for me first. It’s scary to think, but I know…I know that I would do the same if the roles were reversed.” 

“You know that I care for you deeply as well, Reg. We’re in this together.” It comes out slightly watery, but your words are firm and the vulnerable glint in your eye eased Regulus’ tension. 

Reinvigorated by Regulus’ words, you decide to bring up the topic that had been troubling you for a while, “I was honestly unsettled by my attachment to you as well. I’m unsure of what to make of it, some days it feels unreal. I just don’t understand it all because logically, you’re a portrait, but deep down, I know that there is so much more to you. You’re not like any ordinary  portrait I’ve stumbled upon.”

Nodding as if expecting the topic to be brought up, he straightens up and clears his throat, “I suspected you felt this way, and honestly, I’m not entirely sure why I’m so different. I know there might be a few possibilities as to why, but I feel as though I am missing a part of the answer, myself. When I left you that night, I was able to spy on a few portraits in the castle. Of course, I couldn’t reveal myself since they would have recognized me, but, from what I observed, most portraits are not as…dynamic as me. Even the most complex ones at Hogwarts seem to be entirely derivative.”

Not quite expecting Regulus’ loss for answers as well, you can only seem to reach one conclusion, “So the answer to all of this…it happened shortly before your death then?” 

“Yes, it’s highly likely. After all there was a two week gap of radio silence between the last visit from my living-self and his untimely death.” Regulus’ confirmation has you suppressing a groan. It seemed like you wouldn’t be getting a clear answer so easily, but perhaps Regulus left clues on the research he was doing before his death around the library. 

Humming as you feel a headache coming on, you decide to let the topic drop there, “It’s okay, we don’t need all the answers right now. But I’m glad we had this conversation, and I hope that in the future we can continue to be honest with each other.” 

Regulus smiles at you, “Of course, little bird. But I’m curious, any news on my brother or about the Dark Lord?” 

A small frown tugs at your lip as you’re brought down to reality, “No changes in Sirius’ condition, but I’m hoping that maybe we can find some clues here. Unfortunately, Voldemort is making his move in bold ways, he’s truly an incisive foe. He murdered Amelia Bones last week, it was all over the press, even the muggles covered it.” 

Taking notice of how your voice catches at the end, he returns your frown, “I didn’t know you were fond of Madam Bones.”

“I was quite partial to her morals, and she was an accomplished witch, to boot. Plus, I know her niece. She has no guardian now. Voldemort murdered her parents during the war.” Shaking your head at the turn of events, you can’t help but feel a sense of unease at Madam Bones’ death. 

Voldemort was moving rather quickly. There was no telling what his next move was going to be. This wasn’t the first time he was able to strike down a famously powerful wizard or witch, even in his revived state, he was just as remarkable of a wizard. He was slowly removing the pillars that held up the Light side’s confidence, at this rate, Dumbledore was going to be the only one left to look to. 

No use in overwhelming yourself, take it one day at a time. 

Lowering Regulus’ portrait slightly, you begin to peruse through the book titles on the shelves, trying to find anything synonymous for “dark curses and hexes”. You were hoping that the search for the curse would be quick, but unfortunately, it seemed that the entire library was just pooling to the brim with parchments about the Dark Arts. 

“Hey, Reg. Do you have any idea where Bellatrix might have learned such a troubling curse? Any area of the library I should focus on?” Your words were meant as more of a joke, but Regulus’ contemplative expression has you stopping in your tracks to focus your attention back on the boy. 

Rubbing his chin, he seems to map out some ideas in his head, “During our last conversation, the day Sirius was cursed, you said his muscles seemed to constrict before he went limp and then he dropped into a coma?” 

You nod in confirmation at the pointed assessment, wondering just how useful the symptoms could be at narrowing down the possibilities.

Why couldn’t Bellatrix have used another curse of milder lethality with far more ridiculous effects? Coma, really? Why not puking up tarantulas or something? While it would make for a ghastly sight, it would be ridiculous enough to make the hex more apparent. 

After a few more moments, Regulus seems to have a lead of some kind, “I don’t have an exact answer, but it does remind me of a time when I was younger and Bellatrix would talk in circles about experimenting with soul magic. She wanted to impress the Dark Lord, so it’s no doubt something of that caliber.” 

“Soul magic?” You punctuate the words in disbelief, realizing that the circumstances might be far more dire than anyone could have fathomed. 

Realizing that you had no idea where to even begin, you decided to enlist some help, “Kreacher!” You weren’t exactly sure if it was necessary to yell, but the action soothed some of the stress you were suddenly feeling. 

A pop echoes around the library and Kreacher stands before you in mild irritation, “Kreacher has been called?” 

Placing a hand on your hip, you try to seem authoritative with your command, “Yes, Kreacher I need your help. Could you gather up all the books on the property that concern soul magic or soul hexes?” 

The elf’s eyes seem to light up at your words, clearly thinking that you were taking interest in the Dark Arts. The prospect wasn’t exactly improbable, but you were much too reluctant to choose soul hexes as an introduction. 

“As you wish. Kreacher will begin right away.” After giving you a razor-sharp grin, he’s gone in the blink of an eye and you hear a distant pop ring from deeper in the library. Hopefully, Kreacher could be trusted to keep your little research topic a secret, you would not fancy having to explain to your friends why you were researching such a dark subject amidst Voldemort’s return. 

As you begin to make your way out of the room, you bring Regulus’ portrait back up to your face, “Reg, there’s something interesting I discovered the night you left. I was wandering around the castle-�� looking for you “-and I spent the night in the Room of Requirements. Except it wasn’t exactly the Room of Requirements.” 

Regulus looks both intrigued and full of reproof at your words, compelled to hear about your adventures, but displeased by your decision to break the rules and risk being punished further. 

Brushing aside his concerns, you continue, “Well, while I was wandering around, I was thinking about you and where you might be, and the room that ended up appearing was the disappearing room that your portrait was originally in.” 

Finding yourself in the kitchen, you carefully prop Regulus up against an empty fruit bowl before rounding the table to raid the cabinets. To your utter dismay, all the cabinets are empty, save for one filled with numerous knives. Groaning at the lack of food, you decide to plop back down in front of Regulus, cradling your empty stomach pitifully. 

Shooting you an amused eyebrow raise, Regulus seems to consider your findings as you continue to mope, “That is fascinating. If it was truly the same room, then it must be as a result of something my human counterpart did whilst he was still alive. When I was first painted, the room already existed–that much I know. Although he was the only one who ever came into the room, I thought very little of it at the time.” 

“It seems that all the answers about the strange magic surrounding you and the disappearing room vanished with him. How frustrating.” Your groan is cut off with a loud grumble from your stomach, causing you to slap a hand to your middle bashfully. 

Entertained at your embarrassment from the strident noise, Regulus chuckles before putting you out of your misery, “Kreacher will be awhile with the books. It’s fine, go out and grab some food, we can talk after you’re done.”

Nodding glumly at his suggestion, you quickly pocket his portrait and feel around for your pouch of galleons. Once you’re ready to head out, you grab a handful of floo powder and ready yourself for human interaction. 

Merlin, you were so looking forward to being a recluse the entire break.

The feeling of becoming a hermit only grew as the rest of the summer dragged along. Kreacher managed to snag a little over a dozen books about soul hexes and magic for your research, keeping you occupied indoors for a majority of the break. 

You only managed to stay sane because Regulus kept you company, and for that, you could never repay him enough. 

The last few days of July flickered by and soon you were preparing yourself to enter the familiar floo network to make your way to the Burrow. It was finally Harry’s 16th birthday, and you intended for it to be a happy one, needing some semblance of normality as war shifted on the horizon. 

“Little bird.” Regulus’ voice pierces through your concentration as you finish taping the last fold of wrapping on Harry’s gift. 

“Hm?” Your distracted hum has him rolling his eyes playfully. 

Tilting his head, he finally speaks up once your eyes meet his, “You do know that there’s a spell to do the wrapping for you?” 

“What? And miss all the fun?” Your teasing words have him looking unimpressed, “Besides, it has more meaning to do it by hand, Reg. You can see all the little imperfections, for example, this little uneven crease on the bottom.” As you show him the bulky wrapping, he can barely disguise his look of amusement.

Shaking his head, he crosses his arms as a pensive look crosses over his expression, “We should try something before you head out.” 

Tying a silk ribbon around the wrapped gift, you peer up at him in interest, “Sure, what’s on your mind?” 

“I think we should try out those charms you found a while back.” His words surprise you since you figured he still held reservations about the risks of the Mens est Oculus charm.   

Sitting up straighter and reaching for your wand, you can’t help but voice your confusion, “Not that I’m opposed to it, but why now?” 

“It would put me at ease to be able to talk to you, just in case.” His words are touching and you’re much too pleased to dismiss his concerns. On the one hand, you were only going to the burrow, on the other, you were aware of how risky it was to be out and about since death eaters were slowly strengthening their forces. 

Giving him an understanding nod, you furrow your brows in concentration before casting the charms. Luckily, you had much time to imprint the movements and incantations in your head so it only took a little pause to cast. 

Quirking your lips in uncertainty, you slowly bring your wand down, unsure if the charms were put into place. 

‘Reggie? Can you hear me?’

‘Impressive work, little bird. Not that I doubted you.’

Gasping loudly at his voice, you reel back in your seat to gape at a pleased looking Regulus, “Woah!” 

Laughing at your shock, Regulus opts to merely respond through your newfound mind link, ‘Woah indeed. Now, it’s about time for you to head out, no?’

As you tucked Regulus’ portrait away underneath your pillow and headed down to the floo network, you couldn’t help the victorious laugh that escaped you. 

It seemed that every summer was more eventful than the last, and you were hopeful that you could spend many more summers in the future with the boy who was slowly winning over your heart. 

Reaching out into your mind link one last time, you send Regulus a fleeting farewell. 

‘Stay safe, little bird.’

And then green flames were filling your vision. 

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txoru @surelysherly @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @urgurlfave @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

My Little Shadow: Epilogue/ Part fifteen (Azriel x Reader) Final Part

Warnings: OOF, jealous Elain, smut, smut AND MORE SMUT- Oral, F-receiving, fingering, shadow bondage play, and Y/N losing her virginity to her mate!

Part fourteen (I will be starting another series once the vote I started ends, you can find it here

Tag list: @mis-lil-red @bubybubsters @luvmoo @rorel1a @minakay @foreverrandomwritings Note! If any of you want to be on my Azriel tag list for *any* stories involving him, please message me! I'm still new to tag lists 😅

After healing, you and Azriel find some alone time, and talk about the future a little bit.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I felt cool hands wrap around my midsection, hugging me from behind.

Azriel pulled me into a hug, nuzzling my neck and breathing in my scent.  “Hello, what have you been up to?”  He asked in a pleased tone of voice.

I was told Rhys had found us in the hall, the both of us passed out from our injuries.

Apparently, the collapse had killed all those people following Meave, and of course Meave herself.

With Madja’s help, we had healed extraordinarily fast, almost none of my injuries had scarred over, healed over as if they had never been there in the first place.

Except for my hands, which now matched Azriel’s.

“Not much, just reading.”  I say with a grin, putting down the book I had been so invested in.

He chuckled, and I sighed sadly as he pulled away, taking his warmth with him.

“I’m going to have to go again, I’m needed at the townhouse.”  He said, petting my hair comfortingly.

I couldn’t help but to whirl around, biting my lip in worry.  “Will Elain be there?”  I ask, trying to seem less worried about it than I am, even though it’s a lost cause.

He frowns a bit, worry crinkling his brow.  “I promise you Y/N, there is nothing there.  I love you, and only you.”

I looked away, crossing my arms, I knew I looked pouty, but I didn’t care.  “It’s not you I’m worried about.”

Elain had been strange to me since Azriel and I announced the bond, and if I didn’t know any better she was purposely trying to make my life hard at times.

“I’m sorry my little shadow, but you know that you’re the only one I want, right?”  He said, smiling down softly at me.

I don’t know what spurs me, but I say with the utmost confidence, “Why don’t you show me then?”

His eyes go wide, and I immediately think I’ve gone too far, getting ready to run off and hide.

He pulls me forward and traps my mouth in his, kissing me deeply and exploring my mouth with his tongue.

I shiver as he pulls away, his eyes darkened with lust.  “When I get back shadow, I’ll show you exactly how much I want you.”

And with that he disappears, leaving me with my legs snapped shut tightly and hands shaking.

I make an effort to not think about Azriel while he's gone, one so I don’t worry about Elian, and two, so I don’t look flustered all evening.

I head down to the library, helping Nesta and Gwen with random chores.

“So what’s it like being mated to Azriel?”  Nesta asked as I lifted a particularly heavy set of books.

I tried not to blush as I flashed back to that look he had given me earlier, the way my breath had caught in my chest when he did.

“It’s nice.  I love him a lot.”  I said, hoping to quickly change the subject to something else.

“So you two have a plan to make the mating bond official then?”  She raised a brow, as if to ask me why I’d been holding out on her.

I blink in surprise.  “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

Nesta smiles comfortingly.  “That’s fine, but you’re inviting me, no matter what you plan.”

I giggle, “Of course I will, I wouldn’t dream of leaving you out of something so important.”

Something so important that neither Azriel or I have brought up.

I was quiet after that, thinking of ways to bring it up to Azriel.  That I wanted to be his mate, for the rest of our immortal lives.

The edge of my mouth quirked up at the thought.  I think I would like that.

I had spent hours in the library with Nesta, and as I made my way back to the river house, I saw something in a storefront that made me stop in my tracks.

It was a lingerie shop.

Azriel and I hadn’t done anything of this sort yet, after everything that happened, I don’t think Azriel wanted to push me into something I wasn’t ready for.

Biting my lip, I look at the dark lacy set on the mannequin.

I made it back to the little place Azriel and I were calling home.  I paused in the doorway when I caught a fresh wave of his scent.

I grinned, sending my shadows out to look for him.

We had this game, him and I.  We would see who would hide from the other the best.

So while my shadows searched, as did I.  Though, I quickly realized he wasn’t in any of the main rooms.

“Az?”  I called out, giving up for today.

I just wanted him to hold me in his arms, tell me how much he loved me.

One of his shadows found me, gently wrapping around my wrist and tugging me upstairs.  Toward the bedroom.

My thighs clench together, and I take a deep breath, concentrating on getting up the stairs and finding Azriel.

The shadows tugged me toward my bedroom, the door already cracked.

Leaving me, they slid back into the room.  My shadows follow them in, and I’m standing there, biting my lip.

I finally step forward, opening the door to see Azriel lounging in my bed, book in hand.

He didn’t look up as I entered, and I realized he was reading one of the romance novels I had told him was my favorite.

“Hello Little Shadow, what took you so long?”  He asked, his voice low and seductive.

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, fussing with the end of my shirt.  “I was helping out at the library in the house of wind.  You’re not usually home this early.”

He stood, stalking over to me.  “After your request?  How could I leave you waiting?”  He asked, his breath hitting the shell of my ear, making me shiver.

His hands went to my waist, bringing me closer until we were touching.  “What do you want Y/N?”  He asked, his pupils wide with love as he brought a hand up to brush away a strand of hair.

“This.”  I gasped as his other hand grazed my side.  He must have smelled my arousal that was now pooling in my panties, because he grew taught, as if he was holding himself back.

“Hmmmm.”  He said, leaning down to nuzzle my neck.  I moved, granting him access as he planted kisses and little nips there, making me pant.

“I love you so much Y/N.”  He whispered into my skin, making my eyes roll into the back of my head, pressing my thighs together.

He went to move one of his beautiful hands down my pants, and one of my shadows wrapped around his wrist as I gasped, “Stop-”

Suddenly, he took his hand back, and stopped kissing my neck, his eyes wide in worry.  “Are you alright?  I’m so sorry- I-”

I shake my head.  “No- no.  That’s not it.”  I say, still breathing heavily.  “It’s just… I’ve never done… this, before.”

I swallow thickly, expecting him to look disappointed.  But instead, his eyes gain a predatory glint, which has me struggling to stay standing.

“If anything gets to be too much, you tell me, okay?”  He asks, half growling, and I nod.

He picked me up, and I straddled his waist, whimpering as I felt the hardness of him through the layers of clothes separating us.

I make a little noise of protest as he lifts me away, but he quickly places me on the bed, and I love the way he looks, towering over me with eyes only for me, tracing my form.

“Let's get these clothes off, hmm?”  He said, running his calloused thumb along my jaw and tipping my chin up.

I can’t help the sly smile on my face as I peel my shirt off, revealing the top part of the beautiful black lacy set I had bought on impulse.

The decision was a good one, I decide as I see Azriels face as he growls with desire.

I shimmy out of my pants, and Azriel helps, and he just stares at me for a minute afterward, taking it all in.

My cheeks turn red, and I realize he can see all me scars, ever single one.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the ones littering my arms and legs, but this was different, I was more… vulnerable.

I go to sit up, but he leans forward, kissing me passionately as he runs his hands up the planes of my stomach.

“You’re so beautiful shadow, and I’m never going to let anyone else lay their hands on you again.”  He says after pulling back, and then he goes over and starts kissing where the tattoo from our bargain curls over my shoulder bone.

He undoes the latch on the bra, whipping it off and I gasp, melting into a moan as he lowers his mouth to my breast, taking my nipple into his mouth and rolling it gently with his tongue, teasing the other one with his hand.

He stayed there for a while, building me up until I just couldn’t stand it anymore, reaching for him.

I gasp as both my and his shadows wrap around my wrists, pinning them above my head.

Azriel looks up at me, grinning before he nips at my breast in reprimand.

“I’m gonna take my time with you baby, I’ma make you feel real good.”  He said at my whimper, trailing down and planting kisses as he reached the panties, taking his thumb and pressing lightly through the fabric, making me gasp as he hit that bundle of nerves.

Shadows slither around to my breasts, teasing me and leaving a cold trail in their wake.

Az pulls the panties off, and I have no time to react as he places his mouth on my wet heat, tasting me with little licks.

I moan, hips bucking as his thumb comes up to rub tight circles around my clit.

Even though I had never done this before, I knew that no one else would have ever been able to make me feel this good.

He pulled back, looking up at me as he licked his lips.  “Enjoying the show, shadow?”

Before I can respond, my eyes are rolling into the back of my head as he stuck a finger in me, pumping slowly.

He growled in pure satisfaction as he listened to the noises of pleasure I was making.

After a minute, he stuck another finger in, stretching me out blissfully as he placed his mouth on my clit, licking it teasingly before pulling it fully into his mouth, moaning around me in a way that made me see stars.

Pumping harder, he brought me over the edge, and I cried out his name in bliss, revealing in this new feeling.

He was softer as he pleasured me through the waves of pleasure crashing into me.

I was panting when he pulled away, his shadows freeing me.  He pulled me up against his chest, and looked down at me longingly.  “May I, shadow?”

I whimpered and nodded, and he took a step back, making quick work of undressing. 

My mouth went dry at the size of him.  I wondered if it would even fit, but I knew that I would make it.

He had beautiful tattoos on his chest, and when he stepped closer again, I traces them with my fingers lightly.

His wings flared slightly before they settled behind his back.

I smiled at the dark, beautiful male I could call my own.

“I want to make the bond official.”  I said, looking to his face to gauge his reaction.

His expression softened into something soft, and he smiled a little bit.  “Then we will.”  He said, gently nudging my legs open.

“I would do anything for you Y/N.  Anything to make you happy.”

I glow in his praise, and he slowly nudges at my entrance.  I gasp, wincing a little as he enters me slowly, stretching me out in all the right ways.

“Move.”  I beg, and he chuckles.

“I have to go slow, shadow.  Hold onto me.”  He says, and I wrap my arms around his neck as he slowly pulled out, and then pushed in all the way, making me moan lewdly.

He grinned against me neck as he did it again, and again, going just a little bit faster with each stroke.

I moaned as the shadows came back to my chest again, and azriel used his fingers on my clit as he shifted, hitting me even deeper than before.

“Azriel- Azriel, I’m gonna cum-”  I said through moans, barely able to think straight.

“Good.”  He growled, thrusting harder, if not a little less smooth as he neared his release too.

I spotted his wings, and I remember something Feyre had told me and grinned mischievously.  I reached a hand out, grazing his wings lightly until he gasped, groaning as he thrust into me hard, and we both toppled over into bliss together.

After we rode it out, I shivered and let out another moan as he pulled me off, carrying me into the bathroom to get us cleaned up.

He set me on the counter and started a bath running, and I couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles shifted under his beautiful skin.

He noticed and chuckled, coming back over to place a kiss on my forehead.  “What type of mating celebrations would you like, darling?”  He asked, and I grinned.

I really did have him wrapped around my finger, didn’t I?

“I’m not sure yet, but Nesta sort of invited herself, so I guess we’ll have to invite your brothers and her sisters too.”

He huffed a laugh, pressing a feather light kiss onto my puffy lips.  “We have all the time to decide my little shadow, and I’ll love whatever you decide.”

“Because I love you.”

[penvisions]

return the favor {chapter 19}

Pairing: Post-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader

Summary: Recovery isn't linear and neither is mending mental fences that have been slowly deteriorating for two decades. On the cusp of something life changing, Joel's growing anxiety fuels your own and the tentative bridge you've constructed with the man begins to fall.

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: canon typical language, canon typical violence, canon typical gore, description of injuries, description of anxiety, symptoms of anxiety, tense situations, argumentative language, foul language, disrespectful language and insinuations, trauma, depictions of past trauma, ptsd

A/N: first chapter of the new year! my city has been shut down for nearly a week due to winter storms and about 8 inches of show that is slowly turning into ice. so it was good mood setting for this chapter! slowly getting back into things, really hoping to get out of my head soon and off of medical leave to get back to posting on a more regular basis, i love y'all and miss sharing things. tried to maintain the tag list but tumblr was fighting me on half the links, im so sorry if anyone who wanted to get tagged didn’t!

ao3 || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath, watching the screeching figures rush by after the figure of Joel leading them away from you. Ellie had tripped, causing rubble to tumble over cracked asphalt and alert them of the fact that people were within the city limits and exploring through the remains of what was once a decent metropolis. Your arm stung a little from where you were still healing, the injury of your broken arm two months old now. But you were able to use it, no longer confined to a sling. Your lungs still a little sore from the plunge you had taken into a frozen lake one month ago now.

Traveling had been hard, the harsh winter not letting up but seemingly getting worse with every day. Ellie found more of herself, falling back on snark and puns in a way that helped to bridge the gap that had begun to form between you and the man currently risking his life to give you both a chance to hide and seek shelter in the torment of the snowstorm raging on.

“Bookstore or library? City looks too small for one, but everyone used to have a library at least, right, Bean?” Ellie’s voice was barely audible behind you, her gun rattling slightly as her hands shook despite the gloves and heavy layers scrounged up along the way to Wyoming.

“Yes, Gremlin. We just have to find a map or something about the area.”

“What happened to yours?”

“Gave it to Joel.” You stood from your crouched position, knees popping audibly. You peered around the corner of a crumbling building, your longer hair fanning out from beneath your beanie. The curls getting ratty with the harsh reality of backpacking around the desolate land of what was once civilization. Ellie’s wasn’t much better, tangled in a ponytail that you were sure would hold its shape even if you cut the band from around it. Similarly, Joel’s steel locks had begun to curl around the back of his neck and around his ears, a darling curl falling over his forehead when he glanced down or seldom relaxed his watching gaze on everything.

“What…what’s been going on, Bean, please tell me.”

“Ellie, it’s not…nothing happened. I really don’t know, but you have nothing to worry about, we’re both going to keep doing our best to look after you.”

You both quietly moved through the city streets, ducking behind cars when any noise was too close, or the shuffle of the Infected echoed off crumbling buildings. Cody was a decent sized city, not quite a metropolis but was spread out over a good dozen square miles. Big enough to get lost in, big enough to fall victim to with how overrun it was. There were so many Infected, the Clickers and Runners hiding within the interior of buildings that were trying to withstand the test of time. But far too many for comfort, Ellie was close on your heels as you lead her toward where you suspected the library would be.

The whole, slow way your thoughts were focused on the task at hand, instincts taking over. The niggling feeling in the back of your mind concerned with the way Joel had been pulling from you recently. The spikes of anxiety you could read from him, feeling as if you were experiencing them firsthand. Which you had been as well, the journey through the harshening winter something that was testing you all in ways that you hadn’t expected to be so difficult.

‘Gasping for air, your entire body tensed as unconsciousness was ripped from you like a blanket by an exasperated mother the morning of a school day. Hands were wrapped around you, rigid but comforting and holding you still as you began to rouse.

“It’s okay, just breath, you’re okay.” A deep, baritone voice tried to sooth you, syrupy sweet and soft close to your ear. You vaguely recognized it, mind scrambled.

Words failed you, getting stuck in your chattering teeth as you shivered so hard it felt like convulsions.

“Took a dip in the lake, not the best decision you’ve made, but we got you on the mend.” The voice continued to talk softly to you, comforting you the same way that the arms around you were.

Shifting, you realized Joel was curled around you, making you the little spoon as he tried to get you warmed back up. His chest bare just like your back and the hush of the hair that he adorned noticeable as your senses slowly came back to you. Your hair was damp, so it must not have been too long ago when he pulled you from the water. You tried to ask but your teeth clattered against each other too loudly.

“Sweatin’ from head to toe, despite the chill settled in your bones, darlin’, had to strip down to try and get your body heat up. I assured Ellie it would be okay with you, made sure to change you into dry underwear beforehand. Didn’t want her thinking I was doing anything…bad.”

“G-good call, on-only way.” You stuttered out, feeling the thickness of his thighs pressed up against your own. It seemed that every blanket between the three of you and what had been in the cabin were draped over both of your forms. The fire crackling close as you lay on the floor in front of it.

“You scared me, you scared the hell outta me.”

“Tried to take him out, he tackled me and we rolled onto the la-lake.” It was hard to talk, to get the words out past trembling lips. But the warmth slowly seeping back into your skin and settling there allowed you to try. It was lulling you, the warmth on both sides, all around. The jolt of awareness fading fast as your body realized how hard it was fighting to stave off the cold, aided by the warm body wrapped tight around you with a tight grip.

“I don’t think I could handle loosing another person.” He murmured into the back of your head, lips buried in your hair as you nodded back off.

I would be something that echoed in your mind.’

He had hovered, that first week after the incident, insisting that the cabin remain a home base of sorts, he had hunted, hung up what he could to try and preserve it for travel. Ellie staying behind when he went to check the traps, telling her that you needed someone to watch after you. But you knew what he was doing, he was distancing himself. He was marking the sand around him with deep lines that should not be crossed. But the thing about sand is that it shifts, it can be swept up, it can consume you, it could damn you as well as any boundaries you tried to mark into the vulnerable surface.

For the first week back traveling on foot, he set up his sleeping bag close to yours. An arm’s reach away in case you shivered too harshly or coughed too loudly. Your arm hadn’t been damaged in the fall or the following struggle back to the surface, but it had set you back on needing to redo the stitches you had just removed the day before.

Shaking your head and focusing, you turned the corner of a building made of brick. Bloody handprints painted across the pale pink of the faded bricks catching your eye as you spied the sign for the library in the distance.

“C’mom, gremlin. Almost there.” You whispered to her, catching sight of too many bodies clustered on the ground not even ten feet away. They shied away from the sun when it peeked through the dense overcast that seemed to become a permanent fixture. Some looked to be standing, or even sitting against the building. The ones that were didn’t shift when the sun shone down on them but groaned all the same. Squinting, you could just make out that they were attached to the wall by long fibers that spanned over the side of the building. Large bulbs had sprouted up among the veinlike display, some directly on the bodies overtaken by the fungus.

Spores.

It had evolved into spores.

“Ellie, pull your collar up over your mouth and nose. Now.”

Looking back toward it, you pulled the bandana you had tied around your neck up to cover your own face. Ice coated it all, though the Infected, melting slightly in the sun that was now shining down through the split in the low cloud coverage.

The crunch of glass underneath a boot had you whipping around toward the entrance you had tried to barricade. Ellie ducking beneath one of the few standing shelves further in the building you had taken your time to clear and make sure was safe. The local library of Cody the agreed upon meeting place so many days ago it felt like a lifetime ago, between different people than who were now using the strategy in the face of a too real notion you had voiced about separation.

Joel’s broad form came into view from the shadows of the entrance, looking disheveled but intact. The layers he was bundled up in making him an imposing figure. His eyes frantically scanning the inside of the building, an anxious twinge gleaming in them before they landed on your cautious form peering from behind a pillar. You couldn’t tamp down the instinct to move toward him, wrapping your arms tight around him. He couldn’t seem to resist his own instincts to bring his arms around you to return the embrace, tight hold that brought you flush against him.

Surging up, you placed a chaste kiss to his chin and then both of his cheeks, one last gentle one to his lips despite the adherence to touching he seemed to take up slowly toward you. But it didn’t feel perfunctory, it felt like a welcome home that would fall from his lips if reality were different, if you had been home before him and he finally crossed the threshold back into a space you both shared. His cold lips moved against yours, pressing back to deepen it and his tongue swiped at your bottom lip in a silent question. You were just about to part your lips for him to taste when Ellie realized the coast was clear and came out of her hiding spot.

“Gross, y’all gotta keep it PG, I’m still a child!”

Joel tensed, his blunt nails digging into the layers wrapped around your body. With a grunt, he broke the kiss and sent a mild glare over your shoulder toward the rambunctious teen. Rash, he thought and you saw It flash over his face at both of your thoughtless actions to reach out for each other. But instinct was a funny thing, threw inhibitions out the window, threw self-preservation out the window, the thin, sheer curtain of privacy out the window, forgotten for a moment.

“Oh, suddenly you’re a child, but back when you wanted stay up for a round of night watch you were old enough and responsible enough?” You quipped back with a teasing smile, detangling yourself from Joel and facing her with your hands on your hip.

“Well-“

“Hush it, go see what we can use that’s still around, but don’t go too far!” You waved your arm at her, the other on your hip as you tossed her a faux irritated look, but the smile quirking up the corner of your lip broke the stern image you were trying to make.

“Didn’t wanna hear whatever mushy crap y’all are gonna say to each other anyway!” She stuck her tongue out at you before turning on her heel and walking away further into the building.

“Joel,” You placed your hands on his chest, trying to get his attention as he watched Ellie’s form.

“I saw it, the spores. That means we’ve all be potentially infected just being in the vicinity of Cody.”

“Infection can show signs as delayed as eight hours. Joel there’s no way to know until we do or don’t show symptoms.” He took your hands in his, feeling the slight tremors in them as your mind worked a mile a minute. Eyes flashing with something that could only be determination as you locked your gaze on his. “But it looked mostly iced over, moving slow but still alive.”

“We gotta move out, too alive for comfort.” He slid his hands from you and put his gloves back on, flipping his coat collar back up to shield his neck.

“Copy that.”

“We’re going to be okay, we know Ellie is safe.”

“Copy that.”

A harsh grunt had your head turning swiftly back toward the clearing you were on the edge of. Trees lining the edges of your vision and their naked limbs reaching out as if to comfort you. But they would damn you sooner than that, exposing you to any threat even this deep into the forest where you had sought relative safety for the night. Joel’s sleeping bag cradled figure was shifting, moonlight showing the anguish he was experiencing even in sleep. A nightmare.

He had been having more and more of them, sleep restless and mumbled words falling from his fitful form most nights or when he nodded off.

“Joel.” You murmured quietly, hand hovering just over his shoulder. He didn’t startle, but woke with a deep gasp, eyes flying open.

“Woah, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me, you were having a fit, just making sure you’re okay.”

“’m fine.” He said as he pushed up from the confines of his sleeping bag. You leaned back on your heels where you had kneeled beside him. Confusion colored your senses before you shifted into a neutral expression. He had been pulling away, the tentative kisses you shared a few days ago the first instance of comfort you both indulged in since the cabin.

“You’re fine.” Monotone agreement to appease him fell from your lips. He shoved off from his spot and you let him walk away, boots crunching in the snow that had built up since settling for the night.

“Takin’ over watch.” He said before disappearing in the thick of the trees, not a glance back toward you or a sleeping Ellie.

“I’m fine too,” You exhaled shakily, sharing in his own lie.

The blinding white landscape stretched out as far as you could see. Packed snow and ice all around for miles and miles as winter claimed the land for its own. You kept glancing over at your companions, worry settled deep in your soul. For the girl whose teeth chattered with the cold, edge of her nose pink despite the layers wrapped around her. For the man whose anxiety was beginning to show the longer the journey took and the nightmares that plagued him every night.

He looked washed out, from far more than the endless brightness of winter shining down. He was exhausted, he was worn out, he was holding the crumbling pillars of himself up with sheer determination and devotion to finding the one thing he knew in this world, his brother.

As you tried to keep your boots from slipping, the hush of snow underfoot, a structure suddenly appeared on the horizon. Smoke calmly billowing from a chimney.

The creak of the door opening had your muscles tensing, hidden behind a wooden pillar inside the warm cabin. Joel was across the space from you, gun positioned right in front of him, a calmness about him that you hoped meant no one would be dying today.

The man who had entered back into his home looked over to his wife, her eyes sliding to the left to silently give Joel’s position away. Her eyes met yours as she continued to face the door, before turning back to her husband as she calmly rocked in the chair with her hands in her pockets. Threatened but at ease, assuming you both to be decent people. To not harm her or what was hers. Your gut twisted at the faith she put in both you and Joel, seeing the desperation for appeasement and an avoidance of true violence. You wouldn’t hurt her, hurt them. Everyone seemed to sense it, only threats were dealt with violence, and she was not one.

Turning back to the door, the man gently placed his bow down atop a table and began to unzip his outermost coat.

“And the gun,” Joel approached, revealing himself full to the older couple. Voice steady but quiet, demanding.

“Who’re you?”

“Just someone passin’ through.” He strutted confidently beside the woman still rocking gently away, his voice giving away his native land, ascent thicker in the wake of another sleepless night.

“Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach.”

The man complied, with an exasperated expression at the brashness Joel was speaking with.

“Why didn’t you shoot ‘im?”

“The gun’s all the way over there.” Was her simple answer and you felt a smile pull at your lips, the display pulling at your heart. “He didn’t hurt me, by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes.”

A few steps further into the room brought the map and abandoned bowls from an offering of soup to the man’s attention.

“You made ‘im soup?”

“Yeah, I did. It’s cold out.” The man’s only response was a grunt as he settled into a chair across the small table from her. Joel’s head shifted to the side slightly, and you took the signal to move in front of the door.

The man’s attention turned to you, gazing at you over his shoulder.

“Well, aren’t you a quiet thing-“

“I’m lookin’ for my brother.” Joel took over the situation, his voice cutting off any further conversation between you and the couple. Letting them know that he was the one in charge, the one who would be asking the questions and controlling the conversation.

A scoff sounded harsh into the air as the old man removed his cap, his silver hair on display now in the comfort and warmth of his home.

“Well, I ain’t seen him.”

“I haven’t told you what he looks like.” Joel’s tone was hard, though you could see how tired he was, his eyes not holding any of the weight his shoulders seemed to as he deflated. Unable to keep up the rouse, unable to not let the doubt begin to slip in. The endless days out in the below freezing tundra finally wearing him down.

“He look anythin’ like you?”

“A bit.”

“Then I ain’t seen him.”

“They’ve got a girl with them.” The woman spoke up, eyes shifting up toward the second landing and giving Ellie’s hiding spot away. You could see her easily from you spot by the door, the way her brow furrowed much like Joel’s at the woman’s easy give up of her presence.

Apparently sensing how calm everything was, Ellie took that as her opportunity to reveal herself.

“Can I come down?” She called from the upstairs, causing you to close your eyes in exasperation of her lack of patience. Joel, similarly, exasperated, turned his attention from the man he kept his gun trained on and looked toward the stairs with a mile glare.

“No,” His demand turned into a calling of her name as she moved and began to make her way down the stairs with loud steps.

“Ooh-wa. A woman and a girl, family man.” The old couple shared a quiet laugh at the quickly shifting interaction. No longer tense, but something else.

“What did I just say?” Joel posed toward her as she came to stand in the space between you both, blocking the stairs from view with her small form as she brandished her own gun.

“Joel, come on, they’re like a thousand.”

“Who’s this little psycho?”

“Never mind her.” Joel shifted forward, using his free hand to push the map on the table closer to the man whose focus was shifted toward Ellie. “I need you to tell us where we are.”

“If you got a map, why you lost?” You could hear the smile in the man’s voice that he was doing nothing to hide, finding amusement despite the barrel of a rifle aimed at him and three strangers in his home.

“Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest.” Ellie snapped, trying to put on a front to imitate Joel, her voice pitched lower and hard. No sign of the girl who told puns in her as you looked over at her with a sharp flare of frustration.

“Ellie!” You reprimanded, unsure where this unwavering lack of manners came from, hoping it wasn’t her way of displaying confidence in the face of someone who had done nothing to warrant such harsh language aimed at them. Anyone else wouldn’t be so kind or forgiving. “Compose yourself.”

“Ho-ly.” The man’s eyes met yours as you nodded a silent apology at him, moving across the space and coming to stand beside Ellie with a swat to her arm. Laughter bubbled up between the couple again, getting a kick out what was happening after being isolated for so long.

“We’re somewhere here. Where exactly?” Joel tried to get the conversation back on track, an agitated look tossed over to you both as he jabbed a finger at the map. “And the answer better be the same as your wife’s.”

“Did you tell him the truth?”

“Yeah.” She rocked gently in her place, looking for all the world like this was an everyday occurrence.

“Are you tellin’ me the truth?” That same fond smile pulled at your lips at the woman’s easy compliance to the question and Ellie shifted behind you slightly as she saw it, her body relaxing in response to your own ease.

The man glanced at you and Ellie, so close together before he leaned forward and pointed out exactly where his wife had on the map. Joel shared a look with you before holstering his gun and focused on the map fully.

“Well, you found a great place to hide, I guess.” Exasperation and exhaustion taking over him, he pressed a hand to his forehead as he roughly sat down in the chair beside him. Looking for all the world someone who was about to give up.

“Hide? Came here before you were born, sonny.”

Ellie moved to sit beside him, a stool operating as a makeshift side table the perfect spot for her as Joel rocked in his place, emotions riling him up in a way you had yet to see. His anxiety rolling off of him in palpable waves.

“Get the hell away from everybody.”

“I didn’t want to.” The woman added, sharing a look with you, the gleam in her eye telling a story you so desperately wanted to hear.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother, but if you’ve come this far then you know what’s out there.” Joel’s pale glare, furrowed brow, prompted the man to speak on. “You seen Cody?”

“Yeah, got close enough. It’s crawling with infected.”

“Spores, too. But the weather seems to have killed that off for the time being.”

“Yeah, Laramie and Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be, you can’t go there no more.”

“So you haven’t heard the name Tommy?”

“Nope.”

“What about the Fireflies?”

“We get those in the summer.”

“Not the bugs, the people.” Ellie snapped, though there wasn’t nearly as much heat behind her words this time. Mindful of the presence you exuded as you stood beside her.

“There are firefly people?”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that rumbled from your chest, joining in on the disbelieving laughter of the older couple.

“You got any advice on the best way West?”

“Yeah.” Suddenly serious, the man’s face shifted into something unreadable. Leaning forward to get all of Joel’s attention he spoke without a hint of the jovial tone he just had. “Go East.”

You swallowed down the spike of unease that settled over you, watching as he leaned forward to draw his finger over the map.

“But you never go past the river here. Ever.”

“What’s past the river, sir?” You cut Ellie off, knowing she was about to ask the same thing. You stepped forward, angling closer to him, wanting to understand everything they new about the land but afraid to ask. Afraid of the answers they had that would sever the last string of hope, of the mission Joel had set out on.

“Death.” The woman spoke, her eyes meeting yours. “We never seen who’s out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some Infected, some not. If your brother’s West of the river, he’s gone.”

“You’re not gonna scare us.” Ellie spoke quietly, face solemn as the atmosphere of the room shifted.

“Scared them.” The woman nodded at you and then over to Joel beside her.

A beat passed before Joel reached for the map with harsh movements, folding it in his grip and then stood. You ushered Ellie to follow him, taking a moment to reach into you pack. You placed a small bundle of bandages on the table, locking eyes with both of them before speaking.

“There is medicine wrapped up here, please, take it as a thank you for your help. I’m sorry we had to brandish our weapons at you. Can’t be too careful these days.”

“A quiet, sweet little thing, aren’t you?” The man looked you over, though there was no threat or undertones in his eyes. “Take care of them, they need it.”

‘I’m trying my best, sir.” You turned to the woman one last time, hoping that the heartbreak didn’t show on your face. You wanted them to make it, to live out the rest of their lives in peace. “Ma’am, thank you for the soup.”

And with that you walked through the door and back out into the blinding landscape.

Joel was leaning heavily against a post of their fence line, one hand supporting him while the other was pressed tightly to his chest. Ellie was hovering close to him and speaking too fast for you to make out her words.

“I said I’m fine.” She looked back at her with a weird look, trying to display some sort of control, but he was still leaning heavily against the post. Her soft acquiescence pulling you behind them with quick steps.

“It’s just the…cold air all of a sudden.” He leaned over and looked down, his breathing labored and his body taut. A gentle hand on Ellie’s shoulder had her moving forward through the fence.

“All right, uh…so let’s go and find Tommy and the Fireflies.”

Joel stayed still, jumping slightly when you curled a hand over his shoulder.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me. It’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay.” His tone shifted from quiet to harsh, furrowed brow and hard eyes turning to face you. He shrugged your hand from him with a rough movement and you curled it back to your side with a frown.

“Joel-“

“I said I’m fine!” He raised his voice and you shrunk back a few steps, not sure why he was suddenly so angry. The look in his eyes one you hadn’t seen since your shared time in Boston. At a loss for words, you only nodded, hoping he didn’t continue to yell. Your foot slipped on a patch of ice hidden underneath the snow and you let your body do so, looking up the small slope to Joel as he shifted the rifle from his shoulder and gripped it in front of him before following after Ellie. “Don’t need you trying to fix me when nothin’ is wrong.”

“It’s gonna be easy.” Ellie trilled, trying to control the situation as best she could despite how tense things were. “All we have to do is cross the River of Death.”

He didn’t look back as he caught up with her smaller form.

“The river of death. Scary.” Ellie sardonically announced as the landscape opened up, the map in Joel’s pocket as he lead the way over the terrain. She stopped and loved over the fast moving line of water that weaved it’s way through the beautiful landscape. It had been a quiet day’s travel, Joel and Ellie having small pockets of conversation as they traded places leading. You stayed behind them, trying not to warrant another flare of Joel’s bitter anger.

“Don’t start.” He sidled up next to her, taking in the view while you hovered behind a few paces, feeling like an outsider. He didn’t so much as glance back at you, before speaking. Deciding.

“It’s too close to dark. There’s some caves along the river. We’ll set up camp there, cross in the mornin’.”

“Good. I’m starving.” A pause. “Should’ve stolen two rabbits.”

“We can get our own rabbits.” He almost scoffed, worried about how she was thinking of stealing before trying to provide for herself. Or that he would let her starve.

“You gonna teach me how?”

“Just keep movin’.”

And with that they both began to walk again, seemingly forgetting about you trailing behind them.

As the fire crackled on, rabbit consumed, Joel was busy duct tapping his damaged boots. The sound a background noise as you gazed up at the night sky, a haze of green lights shining among the stars. It was beautiful but it did nothing to soothe the anxiety thrumming through your veins. Something was about to change, the air around you drenched in the inevitable. The hairs on the back of your neck and all along your arms prickled with every howl of the wind and shuffling sound of an animal nearby.

The whistle Joel let out had you jumping in your seat, but you didn’t bother to turn around, back to the set up of the night. You knew it was for Ellie, to garner her attention where she gazed up at the sky in the same fashion as you, but she had scaled the outcropping around the mouth of the cave.

“Come down from there. You’re gonna break your neck.”

“Bean said it was okay. As long as I was careful.”

He didn’t respond, opting to pull a flash out from his jacket’s inner pocket. Your brow furrowed as you heard the sound of it clinking against his zipper. You hadn’t seen him swipe that from the older couple’s cabin. But he hadn’t had it before.

You blanked out, thoughts humming, eyes unfocused as you stared deep into the fire. The flames taking you back to when you had burned down your own cabin, unable to stomach the thought of living out your days with the buried corpses of what was supposed to be your future.

Screams echoed in your ears, plaguing you more and more as winter continued. The snow flashing from pristine white to red with every other blink. Footsteps deep in the snow, following a man who was showing his cracks much the same way you were. You gripped your mostly healed arm tight with your right hand, nails digging into the flesh there as you had snuck it into the sleeve, gloves tucked into a pocket.

The buzz of a quiet conversation quieting had you blinking your eyes back into focus, the fire lower now.

“What about you, Bean?” You didn’t let your surprise at being addressed show, but the feeling of your nails digging deeper into your skin was an all too real reaction.

“Hmm?” Shifting up from the fire, you looked over at Ellie, her face bright in the night. Small smile on her thin lips as she looked back at you. The weight of Joel’s gaze was heavy, making your nerves twitch and you were sure he was reading you as well as you could read him when his own resolve slipped.

“What would you do?”

“What would I…do?”

“If this all wasn’t going on.” The teenager waved her hands around, stray strands of her hair peeking out from her beanie wafting up with the action.

“I want a nice little cottage, protected deep in the woods. Maybe a garden to plant coffee and cultivate it.” The answer was quick, but quiet. Honest. That’s all you wanted now, a place to hunker down and be left alone.

“Coffee beans for Bean.” She chuckled before realization dawned on her. You hadn’t mentioned either of them, saying what you wanted. She took a breath before she breathed out her hesitant question, unable to shake the feeling that everything was not as okay as it seemed. She had to have picked up on the way you and Joel had grown quieter and more agitated since leaving the cabin. “…alone?”

“Yeah, kid, alone.” Your smile was sad as you looked down at where your boots stretched out in front of you toward the crackling fire. You could feel both of their eyes heavy on you as you fell silent, closing yourself off from them once again despite the hesitantly jovial air that had begun to form around the makeshift campsite. Shifting, you stood from your spot and walked over to your pack, unbuckling the sleeping bag from the bottom of it. Laying it out, you settled into it underneath the overhang of the outcropping of rock that had been picked out for the night.

Snuggling down into it, you heard them talk softly to each other for a little while longer, comfortable silences falling every so often.

“Dream of sheep ranches on the moon.”

“With a three-room cottage.”

“Yeah, kid, with a three-room cottage.”

Steps as quiet as possible, you glanced at the map in your hands and then toward the bridge you could see in the distance. The river was still like glass, nothing but the wind breaking the surface and causing it to ripple every so often before it stilled once again. The bridge looked untouched, no visible disturbances in the snow blanketed ground around it or along the expanse of it. But it was a sign of something, of what was once. Blinking against the bright white of everything around, your vision clouded as snowflakes gathered on your lashes. The feeling of unease settled over you as you heard the call of a geese on the other bank. The only sound you had heard since taking up watch a few hours ago when sleep evaded you. It was too quiet out here.

Dread settled in like rocks in your stomach, throat constricted as the old couple’s words sounded in your mind. Turning back around, you rushed to the cave that had been used as shelter the night before.

“I’m responsible for you, okay?” Joel’s voice was audible as you neared the small camp.

“Then don’t fall asleep.” Ellie rebutted. “I was quiet, I checked my six, I looked for tracks. I found the high ground and I kept watch. Like you taught me too. Bean made sure to double check it all before she went off. What can I say, man? I’m a natural.”

He mumbled something and motioned for her to hand over the rifle, turning his attention to your approaching form. At the snap of a bush, the rifle was raised, his eyes not recognizing you through the haze of the falling snow. You quickly raised your hands up into the air and announced yourself, heart thudding.

“Where the hell did you go off to, huh? Supposed to be keeping an eye on her.” His voice was anything but relieved, holding anger and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Woah, hey, I was checking map, I think we got turned around somehow. Bridge to help up cross the river.”

“You’re supposed to stay put. No one goes off alone.”

“I’ve traveled alone before; I can handle myself.”

“You took the only map, what if you got taken down or lost or fell in the god damn river?”

“I didn’t, I was just trying-“

“Trying to get us all killed, is what you were doing. Exposing us on your little scouting mission.”

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you lately, but we are all tired. We are all feeling the same way, Joel. Do not raise your voice at me. Please.”

He took a deep breath, eye clenching shut. When he opened them back up the gun shifted to his shoulder. He nodded at you in silent agreement. Then at Ellie.

“Wake me up next time.” He admonished; tone not nearly as hostile or frustrated as a few seconds ago.

“Yes, sir.” Ellie tried to lighten the tense atmosphere with a quick of her lips.

“Copy that.” You nodded back at him, not liking the way it was getting harder and harder to communicate with him. He was taking the lead more, making routes on his own more, taking on the burden of wandering through the endless landscape in a way that was hurting him more than helping the group. That kind of responsibility taking its toll on him as the days continued on.

The bridge was larger as you stood at one end of it, facing the backdrop of large snowcapped mountains behind it. More wilderness, more unknown, more unseen threats.

You were trailing behind Ellie, the formation second nature now. Joel in front, rifle at the ready. Ellie in the middle, her hands at her sides, gun easily accessible in her pocket. You behind them both, keeping Ellie’s smaller form protected as much as possible.

Conversation flowed between them as you now walked along the river, the trees dense on the other bank, the one you were traveling along exposed. It made you uneasy, that feeling having settled into your bones from this morning. Cresting over a large hill, the sound of rushing water was suddenly loud, having been so low a hum it didn’t register until now. The snow was mostly cleared on the other side of the rather blue river, the structure of a-

“Dam.” Ellie announced, playing on the double meaning of the word easily.

“You’re no Will Livingston.”

“Yeah, yeah, but who is?”

“So that made electricity?”

“Yeah.” He looked over at her, brow already furrowed. “Don’t ask me. I don’t have a clue.”

“Joel…the dam…it’s running.” You stepped forward, breaking into the bubble the two of them had unknowingly created.

“The water wouldn’t stop running through it, even if it was abandoned.”

“No…but that doesn’t explain the lack of snow all around it. Almost like it’s been cleared.”

“Just didn’t snow as hard in this area, nothing stuck.” He dismissed you, moving on.

Ellie was watching the movement of the river’s current, having stopped ahead of you both and you quickened your pace to catch up to Joel. Reaching out a hand to hook around his upper arm. He let you turn him, a frown on his features.

“Joel, please, this doesn’t feel right. Between the sparse snow despite the storm last night and how quiet it is, something-“

“Everythin’ is fine, you’re reading too much into it.”

“Remember when you trusted me? Heeded my instincts as well as your own?” You snapped, roughly letting go of his arm and shoving him back. “Remember when we were equals?”

“You’ve been out of it more often than not, seeing things where there isn’t anything. You double take at every turn of direction, eyes glazing over and losing focus at night when we settle. Jumping at every little sound in the night.”

“So have you, I can tell when you’re breathing heavier, overrun by anxiety.”

“I’m fine, but you aren’t. Not since the cabin.”

“I’m fine, Joel. Just like you’re fine, right?” You used his own words against him, hoping that they stung him when they landed. They did, you could see the shift behind his eyes from frustration to acceptance.

“I’m not gonna apologize, but, darlin’…you really have been out of it more than here with us. I’m just…I’m trying here, okay?”

“I’m trying too, it’s…it’s this time of year, it’s harder. But I’m trying, Joel, I swear to you I am. When did I let anyone get the drop on me when it was avoidable? When did I failed to get Ellie to safety? When have I failed to reconnect after getting separated. Please, Joel, I’m trying.”

His broad chest expanded with a deep breath; hands held out to you in a silent offering of peace.

“I’m just picking up the slack, trying to keep us all alive, I didn’t-“ His words were fast, twang thick as he tried to back track. His trauma showed in ways different than your own, something he still had to learn about you, learn to help you with. Return the favor of you allowing him to work through his own.

“We’re fine, okay? I just…I need a minute, please. I just need a moment to myself.”

You stepped toward him to grip one of his offered hands with both of yours, cradling it. Looking up at him, you could see that he was as worked up as you were. Both of you feeding off of the other’s intense emotions in the worst way. He slowly lifted his other hand to caress your cheek.

“We’re okay, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You untangled from him, offering him a wan smile, and walked away, gazing out over the river.

After a beat, you began to follow behind Ellie as Joel continued on at a slower pace.

“Look at that river. It’s crazy blue.” She fell silent for a moment, looking down at her boots as she thought something over.

“Hey Joel…what is this is the River of Death?”

You both paused at her words, realizing that this was in fact a secondary river. You looked up and locked eyes with the man as he turned, hair ruffling in the breeze. The map was quickly pulled from his coat pocket, and he unfolded it as you closed the distance, coming up close behind them both, head on a swivel as he tried to center your current position.

The whiny of a horse had you bumping into Ellie. Too late to do anything about it or even announce it as the sound of hoofs thundering across the fallen snow blanketed all around you assaulted your senses.

You could feel it reverberate through your entire body, teeth clenched tight and eyes wide as they took in the fast-approaching group cresting over the hills of the landscape.

Joel scrambled for Ellie, pulling her behind him. He chanced a look over at you, your eyes meeting for a brief moment before you were surrounded on all sides by people on horses, two dogs pacing around them all with the river’s bluffed bank behind you all.

Joel reached for her hand and she reached for yours, scrambling to huddle close and maneuver with a dash that wasn’t quick enough. Allowing for the group of saddled horses to surround you on all sides.

“Get behind me.” He ushered, realizing it was too late to run or even think of making a getaway with the ten or so people now aiming their guns on you in a misshapen circle.

Hands going up in surrender, you didn’t dare close your eyes as you took in a deep breath of the stinging cold air.

“We’re not lookin’ for any trouble,” Joel was calm despite the buzz of adrenaline that was lighting you up, no doubt mirroring his own. “We’re just passin’ through.”

“Drop the guns.” The demand was calm, controlled. “And the blade.”

With slow movements, you removed the colt from the harness inside your largest coat, the shing of the blade following the thump of it to the ground.

Eyes moving from each imposing figure, you noticed that they were all armed with rifles. The glint of secondary handguns on their hips. Every single person was armed to the teeth and concealing their faces with masks made of scarves, bandanas, and scraps of clean fabric.

“You,” The same man spoke to Ellie, his eyes trained on her. “Take five steps back.”

“And you as well.” A woman spoke to you, her eyes calculating. Tracking the way you were scrutinizing the entire group with quick glances all around you.

“How ‘bout we just talk this through?” Joel attempted to bridge the gap. But they weren’t having any of it, cutting him off before he could even get the words out.

“How ‘bout you shut the fuck up?”

“Okay, easy.”

Glancing down at Ellie he assured her she was going to be okay, the hope that they wouldn’t harm a child allowing the words to sound genuine. He glanced over his shoulder at you, paces behind them both having already heeded their commands.

“You been near Infected?”

“There’s no Infected out here.” Your voice was strong despite feeling anything but. Overpowered, out manned and out gunned. Not letting it show that you were absolutely terrified for the two people spaced out in front of you.

“The hell there ain’t.” The man argued with you, tearing apart your feeble attempt at complying with them but also sticking your own ground.

A barking dog was lead out from behind the man, as he declared it the last chance for a swift death.

“If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

“Fuck.” You muttered under your breath; eyes trained on the back of Ellie’s head. What if they could smell the dormant cells in her body? Suddenly, it looked like this wasn’t going to end well at all.

The dog was going insane, barking up a storm with intermittent growls from deep in its ribcage. Struggling against the leash it was being held onto with. But it wagged its tail as it loosened and approached Joel. You could see the increase of his breathing from your spot, though the man hadn’t been near Infected since Cody. A tense moment passed as it deemed him safe after sniffing around him and standing up on its hind legs to get a sense of him too close for comfort.

“Like I said, we’ll just move on.”

“Now the woman.” Dogs always made you nervous, having been on the receiving end of a rather bad bite at a young age. But you kept your eyes open as it approached you and did the same inspection. A deep breath in, held the entire time, and exhaled only when the dog was backing trotting away from you. You could only hope Ellie remained as calm as it cautiously approached her, growling as it did so.

Growls turned to happy yips as Ellie giggled, the two finding peace as she pet the suddenly friendly animal. You head knocked back your head as you sighed in relief. The man speaking for the group was smiling, you could see it in the way the wrinkles around his eyes creased despite the mask. Much like when Joel allowed himself to relax enough to do the same around the fire at night.

“You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?”

“I’m just lookin’ for my brother.” The truth, you hadn’t known he was going to say it. But you felt your heart soften as he did. “That’s all, nothin’ more.”

The woman who had been watching you pushed forward and demanded his name, gaze locked on his.

“Joel.”

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dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics

taglist: @narcissa-anastasia @ayamenimthiriel @rosaaeles @sawymredfox

[butterfrogmantis]

Religion is a bit tricky in the Butterverse. Since humans exist, human religions exist, and some are even referenced through Smurfs and other characters. But unlike certain universes, there isn't one 'true' religion or god. Instead, there are 4 true deities - Mother Nature, Harold, Father TIme .. and Death.

Also CW for some messed up stuff right here

Mother Nature and Father time are pretty well known and honoured, even worshipped in some cases. Harold is looked to as the man in the moon as as symbol. Death is. An interesting figure. Smurfs - or any race for that matter - don't have a personal connection with Death the same way they might have a tea part with Mother Nature because seeing Death in of itself is an omen. And they sort of like it that way. Death is an enigma. Feared or respected, Death is neither kind nor cruel. It is simply inevitable. Indeed, it's the only true equal of the world. At least, for most.

Necromancer Smurf was born in an ancient village to a village doctor and a village mortician. Even as a child there was something a little bit different, he didn't talk for years after the expected time for the first word ceremony, didn't play with the other kids, and had an odd fascination with the gruesome elements to his parent's work, including the graveyard business. The Smurfling's father died unexpectedly whilst he was quite young, and even then he showed very little emotion to the loss of his father. He'd been in the room when it happened, supposedly felt the presence of an omnipresent figure. His fascination with the death itself far outweighed any grief he may or may not have had.

His obsession become more sinister - strange things kept happening. Animals going missing, random bones disposed of in the garbage around Smurf village. And as a teenager, the worst of all was uncovered. Necromancer was caught graverobbing at his father's burial sight - and when questioned, simply responded that he simply needed a body to work with, and his long deceased father clearly wasn't using his.

Necromancer was placed into solitary confinment, and his hut raided. The Smurfs doing the search told horrors of jars with organs, bones, someone's pet that had gone missing last week, clearly dead but somehow breathing … very unsmurfish things. The Smurf leader moved to banish Necromancer for good, but his mother, who had been suffering for years after the loss of her husband - and in spite of the horrors her son had committed, protected him best she could. Both of them became outcasts in their own society, but for Necromancer he didn't care. Perhaps his biggest mercy was when his mother finally passed a few centuries later, he left her grave untouched.

But his appetite for defying death wasn't through, not by a long shot. He could reanimate animals and even plants for certain periods but he needed something bigger, better. He knew the village would exile him as soon as he touched one of his own so he sought through records in the public library until he discovered, by chance, an old journal belonging to a pirate Smurf named Captain Bluebeard, amongst who's stories was a retelling of a great treasure heist, and a lift of a young pirate who was lost on the island and who's body wasn't recovered. This was the opportunity Necromancer needed - a deserted island and a lone body he intended to reanimate. This could be his finest hour.

-----

Short intermission now to listen to Rafflesia talk about the types of undead! :)

-----

*"You may not know me, Skeleton Smurf. But I know you - do not be afraid. Although the nature of your existance defies me, this was not your fault. My quarrel is with the one who's lifeforce sustains you, and in doing so has prevented us from meeting. In my kingdom, you were a worthy subject"

Skelly looked up at the empty eye sockets of the crow skull upon Death's face.

"I was in your kingdom? Then perhaps .. you could tell me who I was?"

Death sighed, seeming almost apologetic.

"I'm afraid … that might compromise your current situation. I do apologise, there's little in my power to help you as you are now. But that is not why I am here, Skeleton. I may no longer have the power to bring you back to my kingdom, but I am still a diety. And since you have been wronged in many ways, I would like a chance - however slim - to make it up to you."

Skelly looked curious, so Death continued.

"I am offering you a wish. A single wish, to be used at any time. Know that there are some things even outside of my power. But as long as holds, or as long as it takes, you have this promise"*

Skelly meets Death ,, part 2! They have a gift for him.

Death, Necromancer, Rafflesia and Skelly are mine / Franchise The Smurfs

[sunfyresrider]

Titanic AU

Synopsis: The year is 1912 and the Titanic is setting sail on its maiden voyage. You were too incredibly broke to buy a ticket but luckily won yourself a ticket in a poker match. Aegon has unluckily lost his trust fund and is being forced to marry a wealthy girl and move to America. Both of you got on the ship for different reasons, both of you came from vastly different backgrounds, neither of you planned on finding love but fate had something else instore for you both.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Reader Warnings: It's literally a Titanic au sooo fluff, smut, sinking ship, love affair (cheating), rich v poor and a whole lotta falling in love. Word Count: 12k Note: HI BABY THIS IS FOR YOU @daddyissuesinwesteros this is my twist on your cruise ship request, I really hope you like it<33 Since i deleted my acc and have to restart I'm going to use a bunch of tags I'm srry. Tags: @its-actually-minicika @aemondwrites @annikin-im-panicin @princesssszzzz @ohitsthemaster

The year was 1912 and a newly finished ship was set to sail from Southampton, England to New York City, United States. RMS Titanic was the largest ship at the time and was considered to be unsinkable. People from all over the world rushed to get a ticket for the maiden voyage. The boat carried some of the wealthiest people in the world, as well as hundreds of emigrants from Ireland, Scandinavia, and elsewhere throughout Europe, who were seeking a new life in the United States.

The first-class accommodation was designed to be the pinnacle of comfort and luxury, with a gymnasium, swimming pool, libraries, high-class restaurants, and opulent cabins. The lower-class accommodations were nowhere near the same, however, were far better than the majority of ships. They were spacious and had several large public rooms and elevators for passengers to enjoy. 

It was by all means the most important and eagerly awaited voyage for many years, but nothing is ever as good as it seems. 

-

You had heard of the Titanic sailing to America just last week. It was completely out of your budget as a nurse in training and there was little to no hope you could board. Except, you weren’t ever planning on getting on the ship by paying. You dressed as a newspaper boy and headed down to the tavern outside the shipyard. 

One talent that always kept you fed was your ability at gambling and right now they were playing poker for tickets. It was four people in total playing the silly little game that would change your life in ways unknown to you. Two gentlemen spoke nearly no English and your closet companion had been nervously shifting the entire game. “You bet everything you have?” He whispered nervously as he eyed his own cards. You leaned over, “when you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.” 

Unlike the fellows around the table, you didn’t mind playing dirty. They had no clue what they had gotten themselves into. You switched around some of your cards while they weren’t looking. “Moment of truth… someone’s life is about to change.” One by one everyone sat down with their cards. Olaf had by far the worst pullout of them all. You turned to your friend, “I’m sorry you’re not gonna see your mother for a very long time.” He stood up and began cursing your ear off, “because we’re gonna go to America! Full house boys!” 

Your friend stood up and started screaming his head off. Olaf the Russian bastard yanked you by the collar and eyed you up and down, “woman?” The realization sent fear down your spine, you winked and dipped out of his grasp. 

“The Titanic leaves in five minutes, boys.” The bartender shouted over at you. “Oh shit!” You grabbed your friend by the collar and went sprinting in the direction of the ship. You shoved your way through the crowds, through the entrance, through the lower deck, and finally to the top of the ship. There were hundreds of people screaming goodbyes at you and you couldn’t help but wave back… even if you were excited to go home.  

-

The crowd to get inside the ship was suffocating by all means. Luckily Aegon’s mother had forced them to all leave extra early. The ship was meant to travel the entire to America and many were beside themselves in excitement. He didn’t care much for the ship or the trip, there were other things on his mind.

Since his father’s company had become so successful his family was able to sit on the upper deck in their own personal rooms. Though his own mother had to pay for his ticket… Aegon wouldn’t think about that situation right now. 

His tuxedo was suffocating him, and it was becoming clear his fiancée was exasperated. Of course, who wouldn’t be angry at an arranged marriage where love isn’t involved? The marriage aside, they were being forced into this ship in close quarters assuming they would “bond”. It was about to be an all-around miserable affair for everyone involved.

His mother, Alicent, quickly shuffled them into their surprisingly posh rooms… perhaps it would not be so miserable. As Aegon was unpacking his bags he pulled out a few paintings he had picked up during his time alive. His fiancée peaked over his shoulder and scoffed, “are those by… something Picasso?” She paused for a moment, “you shouldn’t waste your time with them, he’ll amount to nothing.” Aegon was reminded that this journey was about to be absolutely dreadful.

-

You and your friend finished tossing your things in the below-deck rooms meant for the poor. Two large bunk beds took up most of the space and you learned rather fast you would be sharing with some mildly unsavory characters. No matter, you planned to spend the majority of your time running around the massive ship anyway. 

The front of the ship was massive and was built at an angle. You ran around basking in your luck at being able to steal- you mean win tickets. Your feet carried you to the front of the pointed ship and you climbed up the rails, “I’m the king of the world!” You shouted in a gleeful voice. Your friend ran up behind you, “you’re a woman, idiot!” You paused for a moment… “I’m the queen of the world!” 

-

Aegon took his few moments to explore the ship. He wandered around aimlessly observing the people and the view of the sea. It was a rather dull view, nothing but open water for miles on end. At this time his head was also swirling with thoughts that drained his energy. 

He was being forced into an unwanted marriage, his father had removed him from the trust fund, he was being sent to America to work and his family all hated him in one way or another. The biggest disappointment in the Targaryen lineage thus far.

 In the giant crowds on the deck, he felt completely alone. Everyone around him seemed happy, they filled his ears with laughter and cheers and yet Aegon felt nothing of the sort. This ship was leading him to an unknown future laced with more sorrow. Does he even have reason to live now? 

You were sitting on a bench doodling on your sketch pad when you first saw him. He had beautiful blonde hair and a chiseled jawline, he looked to be one of the posh people on board. However, his big blue eyes were laced with only sorrow. He did not smile nor join in the happiness around him. It gave you an idea for a new painting, a lonely soul amid a crowd. 

“Don’t even think about it, he’s out of your league.” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, “I wasn’t thinkin’ bout nothing.” Your friend took a seat next to you and pursed his lips. “Mhm, that's why you're already trying to draw him?” The audacity of some people, you thought. You slammed your sketchbook closed and sat up. “Ain’t your business!” 

You turned your head to get one last glimpse, but he was gone as quickly as he appeared. A little knot formed in your stomach thinking about how he was out of your league. Most rich people are cunts anyway it shouldn’t matter to you… Maybe, you would just admire him from afar. 

-

At dinner, Aegon’s feelings didn’t get any better. As he sat with his mother and fiancée all he could think about was how pointless his life truly was. A few offhand remarks by the women didn't ease his depression either. Why did he always ruin everything he touched? Why couldn’t he ever be enough? Why was he forced to live such a meaningless life?

“Aegon,” his mother called out to him as he stared lifelessly into his soup. “You’re embarrassing me in front of everyone… no wonder your father disowned you.” His fiancée whispered in his ear. He had more than enough encouragement to rid this world of himself and this was the final push.

Aegon excused himself from the table and stormed out of the dining area. His destination was the ship deck so he could throw himself off. Hopefully, he would freeze to death, or a shark would eat him before anyone could rescue him. Tears slowly dripped down his face as he walked outside. The wind cooled his tears enough they burned his skin.

You were out there trying to paint the sky when he returned. Though, he was a complete mess this time around. You watched him climb up the railing and over the other side. The crazy bastard is trying to jump! As a nurse in training, it was your job to act first.

“I wouldn’t jump if I were you, mister!” A gentle voice caught Aegon’s attention from behind. He furrowed his brows and whipped his head around at the sound of his voice. “Stay back! Don't come any closer!” The tear tracks on his cheeks were gleaming in the faint glow from the stern running lights. 

“Take my hand. I'll pull you back in.” He immediately snapped back, “No! Stay where you are. I mean it. I'll let go.” you rolled your eyes, “No you won't.” He loosens his grip on the railing, “Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me.” 

“You would have done it already. Now come on, take my hand.” Aegon is confused now, he couldn’t see her very well through the tears, so he wiped them with one hand, almost losing his balance. “You're distracting me. Go away.” You approach the railing slowly, “I can't. I'm involved now. If you let go I have to jump in after you.” Aegon turned around to finally get a glance at you. He was shocked to see how beautiful you were, the moon outlined your silhouette like a guardian Angel. “D-Don't be absurd. You'll be killed.”

You took off your jacket, “I'm a good swimmer.” You move to unlace your shoe and he speaks up, “the fall alone would kill you.” You glanced down, “It would hurt. but to be honest mister I'm a lot more concerned about the water being so cold.” Aegon looked down. The reality of what he was doing started sinking in. “How cold?” You start taking off your shoe, “it’s the Atlantic so a little above freezing.” You take off your other shoe, “Ever been to Maine?” Aegon was completely perplexed, “No.”

“Well, they have some of the coldest winters around, and I grew up there, near Wells. Once when I was a kid me and my father were ice-skating out on Lake Wissota... ice-skating where you get on frozen ice–“ He scoffed, “I know what ice skating is!” You raise your hands in defeat, “Sorry. You just... you look kind of like an indoor guy. Anyway, I went through some thin ice and I'm tellin' ya, water that cold... like that right down there... it hits you like a thousand knives all over your body. You can't breathe, you can't think... at least not about anything but the pain.” You slowly take another step forward, “Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you. But as I said, I don't see a choice. I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here.”

“You’re crazy.” He was completely distracted by you, and Aegon forgot about what he originally intended to do. “That's what everybody says. But with all due respect, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship.”

You slid one step closer, like moving up on a spooked horse. “Come on. A pretty boy like you shouldn’t die like this.” Aegon stared at this madwoman for a long time. He looked at your eyes and they somehow suddenly seemed to fill his universe, “Alright.” He unfastened one hand from the rail and reached it around toward you. You reached out to take it, firmly. “I'm Y/N.” Aegon smiled, 

“Pleased to meet you, Miss. Y/N.” All seemed well until his foot slipped on the water that was coating the edge. He let out a less-than-manly scream as he almost dragged you over with him. Your grip tightened and you bit your lip while trying to pull him over. Damn, he was fucking heavy.  

He kicked his feet against the edge hard enough you could pull him up over the railing once more. The force was a bit much as he landed on top of you. There was a brief moment of silence where you stared up at him. This was a pathetic lunatic for sure but a very beautiful one. 

A group of crewmen disrupts your moment of admiration by dragging him off of you and pulling you to your feet. They began yelling at each other as one struggled to pull handcuffs out of his pocket. You tried to explain but they weren’t listening to your pleas. Two women came barreling out onto the deck screeching about what had happened. “Let go of my son, son,” his apparent mother shouted. “What has my fiancé done?” 

Ah, it was too good to be true after all. He had a beautiful posh fiancée waiting for him. “We saw him assaulting this woman!” One of the men shouted and Aegon immediately denied it. The woman’s eyes were a mix of confusion and subtle rage. “It was a misunderstanding! I came up here to admire the view and nearly fell to my death before he saved me!” You weren’t exactly sure why you were lying to a stranger, but something told you they didn’t need to know the truth. “It’s true! I was out here for a smoke when I saw her.” 

“You heard the girl! My son is no rapist.” The men glanced at you asking for confirmation, and you nodded your head in response. One of them let out a sigh as they uncuffed him. Aegon mouthed a thank you as the crew walked off. “Thank you for defending my fiancée,” she smiled at you. “Of course, Miss.” Aegon seemed to roll his eyes at her own voice. 

“Would you like to join us for dinner, dear? As a token of our appreciation?” His mother said in a way that sounded more like a demand than a request. You wouldn’t deny an all-paid-for fancy mean though. “If it would be alright.” Aegon smiled to himself as they bid you goodnight. Your luck seemed to be far from running out.

-

Aegon woke up early the next day; he prepared his clothes the night before and was sure to wear his best casual attire. He was more than excited to spend time with you before the eminent dinner with his family. That part didn’t excite him, his family was hard to deal with as you will soon find out. Plus, his fiancé would ruin any chance he had with you. 

It was wrong of him to think about cheating on her but once again it was a forced arrangement. Perhaps you could be his way out of it or maybe a way to distract him. At this time, you were playing a dull game with your two bunk bates. You kept thinking about him, his pretty face, and his madness all throughout that day… too bad he was to be married.

“Hello Y/N.” Your two friends are absolutely floored by his arrival. It's like Cinderella's slipper fitting Cinderella. “Hello again.” Aegon glanced around, “Could I speak to you in private?” You stood up nervously, “Uh, yes. Of course. After you.” He motioned you ahead. Asgon glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, as he walked out with you leaving a stunned silence. 

You both walked side by side onto the deck. You passed people reading and talking in steamer chairs, some of whom glanced curiously at the mismatched couple. You felt completely out of place in your rough clothes. You were both awkward, for different reasons.  “So, you got a name by the way?”

He shuffled next to you, “Aegon. Aegon Targaryen.” You snickered, “That's quite a moniker. I may hafta get you to write that down.” There was an awkward pause and you felt like throwing yourself off the ship now. 

“Miss. Y/N, I-” you cut him off, “Y/N.” He took a breath, “Y/N... I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you.” You smiled, “Well, here you are.”

Aegon began playing with the rings on his fingers, “I... I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for... for pulling me back. But for your discretion.” You patted his shoulder, “No problem at all.” 

He turned to you. “Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little rich boy. What does he know about misery?” Aegon was beyond embarrassed he made such a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl. Normally, he would be more nonchalant, but you had done something to him. “That's not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was... what could have happened to hurt this man so much he thought he had no way out.” 

He let out a sigh of relief, “I don't... it wasn't just one thing. It was everything. And I was trapped in it, like a dragon in ice.” He started speaking too fast to fully make out, “I just had to get away... and then I was at the back rail and there was no more ship... even the Titanic wasn't big enough. Not enough to get away from them. And before I'd really thought about it, I was over the rail. I was so furious. I'll show them!”

“Uh-huh. They'll be sorry. 'Course you'll be dead.” He lowered his head, “Oh Gods, I am such an utter fool.” You raised a brow, “That chicken last night, is she one of them?” The penguin was his fiancé who was dressed in red feathers. “Chicken? Oh, Y/N/N! She is them.” You cocked your head over to look at him, “So you feel like you're stuck 'cause you're marrying' this chicken.” Aegon finally smiled brightly, “Exactly!” You thought to yourself, there was a pretty obvious solution. “So don't marry him.” He scoffed, “If only it were that simple.”

You hummed, “It is that simple.” He furrowed his brow, “don't judge me until you've seen my world.” You smirked, “Well, I guess I will tonight.” Aegon got mildly flustered once again for reasons unknown. He started looking for another topic, any other topic, and he indicated your sketchbook. “This? It’s just some sketches.” He reached his hand out, “May I?”

The question is rhetorical because he had already grabbed the book. He sat on a deck chair and opened the sketchbook. He noticed each one was a random picture of different people. An old woman’s hands, a parent and their child sleeping on a bench, a couple dancing in the street… It was like the condition of humanity. “These are quite good.” 

You smiled, “I just seem to spew 'em out. Besides, they're not worth a damn anyway.” You picked up two loose pages and tossed them. He laughed, “You're deranged!” No

He turned a page and well… He had come upon a series of nudes. He blushed, Aegon was completely transfixed, they felt... almost uncomfortably intimate. It wasn’t like he was one to shy away from the human form just didn’t expect it from… A woman. “Where were these drawn from?” Your smile grew wide, “Paris! Lots of people are willing to take off their clothes to be a part of art.” 

His eyes narrowed towards one, “You liked this man. You used him several times.” You giggled, “Nah, he had beautiful hands.” Aegon raised a brow, “I think you had a love affair with him…” You shoved his shoulder, “No, never! Just with his hands.” Aegon looked up from the drawing and into your eyes. They were laced with sincerity and something else… God, he was too handsome to be wasting time with the likes of you. “You have a gift, Y/N. You see people.” You were talented, kind, and beautiful… How did he stumble upon someone like you? “I see you.” There it was your piercing gaze that went right through his universe. “And...?” You smiled, “You wouldn't jump.”

“You know, my dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an artist... living in a garret, poor but free!” You laughed at him, “You wouldn't last two days. There's no hot water, and hardly ever any fancy food.” He faked an angry face, “Listen, missy... I hate fancy food! And I'm tired of people dismissing my dreams” You patted his head. “I'm sorry.”

“I just hate all of these duties that I have. I feel this way. I don't know what it is, whether I should be an artist, or I don't know... a dancer… a nude model… or a moving picture actor!” Aegon grabbed your hand and ran, pulling you along the deck toward-- He pulled you into the midst of filming and began pretending to be a part of it. 

-

You had spent the entire day with him accidentally. Maybe you told him a little too much about yourself, but it didn’t seem to matter. He enjoyed listening to your stories about your travels and your failure in nursing school. Aegon was the opposite of what you imagined a rich person to be. “So, then what, Miss. Adventurer?”

“Well, when housing cost too much, I went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica. I sketched portraits there for ten cents apiece.” His mouth gaped sarcastically,

“A whole ten cents?!” The sarcasm went right over your head, “it was great money... I could make a dollar a day. When it got cold, I decided to go to Paris after a while and see what the real artists were doing.”

Aegon seemed to get lost in his head staring off into the distance. “I wish I could be like you… free from everything.” You turned to him, “We could go there, sometime... to that pier.” He grinned, “we're going. We'll drink cheap beer and go on rollercoasters until we throw up and we'll ride horses on the beach... right in the surf.” You laughed, “A woman riding a horse? Do you mean one leg on each side? Scandalous!” He turned to you and the sunset perfectly framed his face. His eyes brightened, “if you’d like.” You grinned, “I think I would.” 

-

A woman by the name of Molly came to your rescue. Apparently, she didn’t appreciate Aegon’s family very much and gladly gave you all the things you needed to show off. Molly lent you a very posh dress for the dinner and taught you a few especially important manners. You didn’t quite remember them all but that would be okay… you think. 

You stood awkwardly on the staircase looking for the family you were meant to dine with. A few men approached you and so you decided to practice your manners with them… They snickered under their breath at your daftness. Before you could open your mouth to snap back, Aegon finally arrived at your side. “Miss, y/n.” He picked up your hand and placed a firm kiss on it. 

You couldn’t help it; you were sure your face turned ten shades of red. He stuck out his arm urging you to take it… the manners of the rich confused you. “You look very posh.” Aegon leaned into your ear. You forced a smile as you approached his family. “It doesn’t suit me.”

“Mother, y/n/n, I’m sure you remember miss y/n.” They turned with shocked expressions, and his fiancé smiled brightly, “y/n- you could almost pass for a lady.” You nodded at her, “almost.” You wanted to slap that grin off her face as soon as possible. 

They strode off into the crowd of people and Aegon pulled you along with them. He tried to list off the names of everyone attending but you couldn’t remember. He even tried to introduce you to someone, but he was obviously suspicious of you. You were nervous but you never faltered. No way would you let these rich folks make a fool of you. 

Alicent was the first to speak to you at the dinner table, “What is it like in steerage, I hear they're quite good on this ship.” It was an insult disguised as a question. You smiled politely, “Fantastic ma'am. Hardly any rats.” Aegon motioned for you to take the napkin off your plate. What was with all of these rules? 

His fiancé spoke up, Miss. Y/N is joining us from the third class. She was of assistance to my fiancé last night.” She turned to you and spoke as if she was talking to a child. “This is foie gras. It's goose liver.” You dug your nails into your thighs and tried to hide your obvious anger. A soft hand brushed against yours catching your attention away from the sudden whispers about you.  Aegon regretted bringing you here already. “How do you take your caviar, Miss?”  

His fiancé answered for you, the cunt. “Just a soupcon of lemon… it improves the flavor with champagne.” You nodded, “No caviar for me, thanks… I never did like it much.” You looked at Aegon, proudly, and he smiled back. “And where exactly do you live, Miss. Y/N?” Alicent asked. “Well, right now the Titanic. After that, I’d like to travel to America.” 

Salad is served, you reached for the fish fork. Aegon gave you a look and picked up the salad fork, prompting you with his eyes. Damn, why the need for different forks? Alicent spoke again, “You find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?” You ignored her tone and decided to answer honestly. 

“My father was always talking about going to see the ocean. He died in the town he was born in and never did see it. See, my folks died in a fire when I was in nursing school, and I've been on the road since. Something like that teaches you to make each day count.” Aegon smiled, “Well said, Y/N.” Alicent, annoyed that you had scored a point against her, pressed further. “How is it you have the means to travel?” You smiled, “I work my way from place to place. I do nursing jobs on the side… actually I won my ticket to get on here.” 

Aegon smiled to himself, a very lucky win indeed. The rest of the dinner went by rather smoothly. You kept quiet most of the time trying to not barf at the taste of the food. When dessert was finally over Aegon spoke to you directly for the first time that night. 

“Next it'll be brandies in the Smoking Room.” He whispered slowly, “Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe.”  You nearly laughed but were interrupted by his fiancé. “Joining us, Y/N? You don't want to stay out here with the men, do you?”

Actually, you do, but... “No thanks. I'm heading back.” Alicent stood up. “Probably best. It'll be all business and gossip; it won't interest you. Good of you to come.” The women took their leave, and you stood up to go as well. “Must you go so early?” You winked at Aegon, “Time for my coach to turn back into a pumpkin.” 

He leant over to take your hand. Aegon noticed the piece of paper in it and you nod at him to take it. You say a quick goodbye before you scurry off to your usual quarters. Aegon opens the note below the table. "Meet me at the clock". 

He smirked to himself then got up to politely excuse himself. You were the complete opposite of any of the women he was forced to be around, and he found himself fancying you more than he should. Aegon should thank his father for disowning him and getting rid of his trust fund because that’s exactly why he was able to meet you. 

You were staring at the giant clock in the middle of the staircase. You looked beautiful even from behind. You turned and caught him staring, “Want to go to a real party?”

-

The below-deck crowd was led and alive with music, laughter, and raucous carrying on. An unknown band was gathered near the upright piano, honking out lively stomping music on fiddle, accordion, and tambourine. People of all ages are dancing, drinking beer and wine, smoking, laughing, and even brawling. Aegon was completely amazed by the scene; he could get used to it. 

Your friend handed Aegon a pint of stout and she chugs it. You patiently waited for him to finish his newfound alcoholism and dance with you. When you get impatient you grab him by the collar and drag him into the middle of the floor. “I don’t know the steps!” You giggled, “just follow me!” The music started and you were off. He was a little awkward at first, but eventually, he’s the one leading you. 

Aegon has the brightest smile plastered across his face as he spins you around the crowd. He stares at you with flushed cheeks, and your sweat glistens perfectly on your skin. You truly were an angel sent for him and only him. 

-

“Come to Josephine in my flying machine. And it's up she goes! Up she goes! In the air, she goes. Where? There she goes!” You both drunkenly stumble over the words and break down laughing. You’ve walked Aegon all the way back to first-class before anyone can notice his absence. Though he doesn’t leave right away and instead leans onto the rail. 

“They're such meaningless people... my crowd. They think they're gods on earth, but they're not even dust in the universe’s gaze. They live inside this little, tiny glass bubble... and someday the bubble's going to burst.” You leaned on the rail next to him, your hands barely touched his, but it was enough to fluster you both. It is the slightest contact imaginable, and yet it’s the only thing either of you could feel. 

“You're not one of them. There's been a mistake.” Aegon looked at you confused, “A mistake?” You smiled, “Uh huh. You got switched at birth or something.” Aegon laughed at you, “I did huh?” You stood there in silence until you spotted a long streak of light in the sky, “Look! A shooting star.” He smiled, “Aren't we supposed to wish on it?”

Aegon glanced at you and realized that you were suddenly very close together. It would be so easy to move another couple of inches, to kiss you. Your eyes told him he could if only he took one more step. "What would you wish for?” You stepped back and forced a smile, “Something I can't have. Goodnight, Aegon. And thank you.” You took off in a hurry, any more time spent in the same vicinity as him would mean you making a grave mistake. No falling for an engaged man, no falling for someone in a different class than you. 

“Y/N,” Aegon moves to follow you, but his attention is caught by people piling out of the first-class entrance. What did he do wrong? 

-

His mother had berated him the entire night for what he had done. He was caught dancing with you and for some reason, that was the end of the world for her. Aegon was tired of constantly being forced to do his parents' bidding. The only reason he was engaged to this girl was that she had money and he didn’t. Once Alicent was finished scolding him he took off towards the deck. 

The ring

The damned ring he was going to give her with the blue diamond in the middle. He could chuck it into the ocean right now and not care anymore. That wouldn’t do, it was too expensive for such a faith. So, he locked it in a safe and decided to forget about it completely. He was done being a pawn for those around him. 

Aegon couldn’t handle rejection, nor could he handle being away from you for this long. He had no idea what had gone wrong, but he was desperate to fix it. He snuck below deck the next day where you were playing a game of poker with your friends. 

The sound of a knock on the door caught the group's attention. Who the hell knocks down here? You opened the door and your mouth gaped. “Can I talk to you...,” he peered over your shoulders, “…alone.” You turned to your group of friends, and they looked just as shocked as you. “Prince Charming came back,” Tommy snickered. “Go on, Cinderella,” Bjorn yelled at you.

You let out a sigh, “fine.” Aegon smiled and you walked into the hallway with him. Before you could get a word out, he grabbed you by the shoulders. “You're no picnic… you know that? You’re a broke, low-class girl with no manners but under that, you're a strong, pure heart, and you're the most amazingly astounding girl I've ever known and–“ You were completely caught off guard, “Aeg- I-”

He cut you off, “No wait. Let me try to get this out. You're amazing... and I know I don’t have much to offer you anymore. I know that, but I'm involved now. I jump, you jump, remember?” You could feel the tears coming to your eyes. Aegon was always so open even though you barely knew each other... not like anyone you had ever known but he was also a rich boy with a fiancé, it wasn’t possible to be with him. “You're making this very hard.” 

“They have me in a glass jar like some butterfly, and I’m going to die if I don't break out. Maybe not right away, 'cause I’m spiteful. But sooner or later the fire is going to go out and… and I need you with me.” Your lip pouted, “only you can save yourself. I’m just me.” He smiled, “You're wrong. You are everything to me. Just please think about it, Y/N.” 

He pulled you forward and placed a quick kiss on your forehead before taking off. You were left completely dumbfounded and your thoughts swirling around your brain. 

-

Aegon was standing at the place where you first met. He was letting the wind hit his face and calm his mind while he impatiently waited for you to come to him or forgive him or anything really. He was getting exceedingly desperate for anything from you. 

“Hey, Egg,” He whipped his head around and a big smile blessed his face. “I changed my mind.” Aegon smiled at you, his eyes drinking you in entirely. Your cheeks were flushed by the cold wind, and your eyes sparkled more than the sapphire. “I asked around and they said you might be up–” He grabbed your hand before you could finish speaking. “Shh. Come here.” Aegon wrapped his hands around your waist. It looked as if he was going to kiss you. 

“Close your eyes.” You were too flustered at first by the sudden contact but after a deep breath, you willingly shut your eyes. Aegon moved your hips, so you were facing forward, and he pressed you gently to the rail. It was getting too intimate, and you could feel your skin turning several shades of red. 

Aegon took your arms and raised them until you were standing with your arms outstretched. When he lowered his hands, your arms stayed up... like wings. “Okay. Open them.” You let out a small gasp. There was nothing in your field of vision but open water. It's like there is no ship under you both at all, just the two of them flying. You could only hear the wind and the hiss of the water 50 feet below. 

You giggled, “I'm flying!” You leaned forward, arching your back. Aegon put his hands on your waist to steady you. He started singing the tune from the other night softly, “come Josephine in my flying machine…” You smiled dreamily, then leaned back, gently pressing your back against his chest. Slowly he raised his hands, and they met yours... fingertips gently touching. Then he intertwined his fingers with yours.

Aegon leaned his head forward into your hair, letting the scent of you wash over him until his cheek was against your ear. 

You turned your head and noticed his lips are near yours. You lowered your arms and your eyes fluttered shut until his lips met yours. As Aegon wrapped his arms around your hips you completely surrendered to him, to the emotion, to the inevitable. You kiss slowly and nervously, and then with passion. 

-

Aegon snuck you into his room which was filled with beautiful woodwork and satin upholstery. You say your sketchbook and drawing materials are on the marble table. It was far too fancy for you; you couldn’t help but feel out of place here. “Will this light do? Don't artists need good light?” You faked a French accent, “ Zat is true, I am not used to working in such 'horrible conditions,'' you turned and saw his collection of paintings, “Hey... Monet!”

Aegon smiled, “Isn't he great... the use of color? I saw him once... through a hole in this garden fence in Giverny.” You watched him fiddle with a lock on a box, CLUNK! He unlocked the safe. He glanced up and smiled at you and tossed you a ring, “What is it? A sapphire?” He shook his head, “A diamond. A very rare diamond called the Heart of the Ocean.” You gazed at the wealth beyond your comprehension. “Why- why are you giving this to me?” 

“Draw me like one of your French boys and it’s all yours.” Your mouth visibly dropped at the realization. Of course, you would happily oblige. 

-

You carefully laid out your pencils like surgical tools. “The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a doll. As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want.” Aegon took off his robe revealing himself and you assumed you looked completely shocked.

“Tell me when it looks right to you.” He pulled a blanket over his… parts. Aegon tried to mimic the guy from your drawing as best he could. “Uh... just bend your left leg a little and... and lower your head. Eyes to me…. Uh yeah.” 

His abs were perfectly defined, and his skin was a gorgeous milky white. He looked like one of those famous Greek statues in a museum. You started to sketch but your nervous hands made you drop the pencil. He stifled a laugh, “I believe you are blushing, Ms. Big Artiste. I can't imagine Monet blushing.” You were obviously sweating, “He does landscapes.”

Despite your nervousness, you drew with sure strokes, and what emerged is the best thing you had ever done. His pose is languid, his hands beautiful, and his eyes radiate energy. It helped that Aegon was the perfect customer, he barely moved an inch and kept his eyes on you the whole time. 

-

“Date it, Y/N. I want to always remember this night.” He leaned over your shoulder in his robe and peered at the drawing. Once again, you do everything he says because you are too flustered to do otherwise. He meanwhile scribbled a note on a piece of the Titanic stationary. He gladly accepted the drawing from you and shoved it in the safe in the wardrobe. 

Once he got fully dressed you felt like you could breathe again. There was a noise, almost like a key being placed in a lock. Aegon grabbed your hand and ripped you up and yanked you through the bedroom. 

He led you quickly along the corridor toward the B deck foyer. You were halfway across the open space when the sitting room door opened in the corridor and his mother came out. The valet sees you and runs after you. 

“Come on,” Aegon shouted in a whisper. You break into a run, surprising the few ladies and gentlemen about. Aegon led you past the stairs to the bank of elevators. You run into one, shocking the hell out of the people inside. 

“Take us down. Quickly, quickly!” Aegon motions to the operator. He even helped him close the steel gate. The valet ran up as the lift started to descend. He slammed one hand on the bars of the gate. Aegon flipped him off with a large grin causing the operator to gasp. 

They escape to the boiler room filled with fans. You both leaned against a wall and began laughing. “Pretty tough for a valet, this fella,” you grinned. “He's an ex-Pinkerton. Y/N/N’s father hired him to keep her out of trouble... to make sure she always got back to the hotel with his wallet and watch, after crawling through the less reputable parts of town.” Aegon smiled. “Kinda like we're doin' right now-- uh oh!” 

The valet popped up out of nowhere and charged toward you. Aegon took your hand once more and dashed into a blind alley. There was only one door, marked CREW ONLY, and Aegon flung it open. You entered a roaring fan room, with no way out but a ladder going down. Aegon latched the deadbolt on the door, and the valet slammed against it a moment later. Aegon grinned at you, pointing to the ladder. “After you, m'lady.” 

-

You came down the ladder and realized this place looked like hell itself, shadowy figures moving in the smoky glow. You ran the length of the boiler room, dodging amazed stokers, and trimmers with their wheelbarrows of coal. Aegon shouted over the noise, “Carry on! Don't mind us!”

You rush through the open door into BOILER ROOM SIX. Aegon pulled you through the hot alley between two boilers and you wound up in the dark, out of sight of the working crew. 

Aegon stops you and kisses your face, tasting the sweat trickling down from your forehead. You raised your chin up to him and pressed your lips roughly against his; you kiss passionately in the steamy, pounding darkness. 

-

After you both gained some self-control, you ran into a new storage room. This time you stumble upon a brand-new touring car.  You climbed into the upholstered back seat, acting very royal. Aegon jumped into the driver's seat, “Where to, Miss?” you grinned, “To the stars.”

You climbed into the back seat and reached your hands out to pull him over the seat into the back. He landed next to you, and his breath seemed loud in the quiet darkness. Aegon gazed at you and saw you smiling… It was the moment of truth. “Are you nervous?” You nervously smiled, “Au contraire, mon cher.”

Aegon gently stroked your face, cherishing every feature. “Touch me,” you whispered. He slid himself on top of you and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. 

Your heart raced as he kissed down your neck. You moaned softly, feeling the heady rush of excitement fill your body with desire. The lustful longing for this man consumed you, there was no turning back now. As his lips neared your breast, you pulled him closer and felt his soft hands caress your skin.

His mouth engulfed one nipple and began to suck it. Your moans were muffled by his hot breath and tender kisses. His hands groped your hips and tugged them up so that he could take your other breast between his teeth. His fingers curled around the hem of your gown and slowly rolled it up above your waist.

You gasped when his hand cupped your cunt through the thin fabric of your undergarments. He moved quickly to free you from them. Aegon slid his hand down to swirl around your throbbing clit. You let out small whimpers as he moved his fingers, 

Aegon moved his lips back up to yours as his fingers dipped lower, so they rubbed outside your entrance. You arched your body towards him and sank your nails into his back. A low moan escaped his throat as he pushed two fingers inside you. You bucked your hips into his touch and closed your eyes. Aegon's fingers moved faster and slipped deeper inside you. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it rhythmically.

He suddenly stopped moving and leaned in close to whisper, "I love you." You trembled at his words. They made the fire within you burn brighter than before. You looked up at him and nodded, " I love you too."

His fingers began to move again, swirling and teasing. You cried out in pleasure as he plunged his fingers deep inside of you. Aegon's lips returned to yours as he kissed you passionately. His fingers thrust inside of you harder and faster until you came undone. Your legs quivered and shook uncontrollably as waves of pleasure coursed through you.

You kept your lips connected to his as you moved your hands to undo his belt. “Are you sure,” he whispered into your mouth. You nodded furiously causing him to smile. He quickly unbuttoned his trousers and slid them off his hips. 

Aegon lifted your ass up and placed your thighs on either side of his waist. He ran his cock along your soaking cunt, preparing to slide inside. The tip of his manhood nudged against your slick opening. You took a deep breath as you waited for him to push forward. When he finally slid inside you, you let out a sharp cry.

You felt the heat of his thick cock spread inside of you. His length stretches you tightly and fills you completely. He lowered his head onto your shoulder, so your cheeks were touching. As he thrust in and out of you, he placed gentle kisses along your shoulder and neck.

"Aegon," you whimpered. The sound of your voice drove him wild. He pumped his hips faster while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Gods, you were so beautiful underneath him. He loved the way you shuddered and shook because of him. 

The car was filled with the sounds of your breathing and their skin slapping together. You raised a hand and hit the glass window leaving a mark on the condensation. You moved your hips with him, grinding yourself against him.

You moaned loudly as he bit down on your shoulder. He held your hips up with one hand while the other was squeezing your tits and doing circles around your nipple. Your cunt clenched around his shaft and squeezed each time he moved.

Aegon started to softly moan as he thrust inside you. They sounded absolutely heavenly in your ears; better than any orchestra you’ve heard. "I'm going to cum," he whimpered. You tightened your grip around his neck and pulled him down into another searing kiss. You tilted your pelvis up to meet his thrusts.

"Cum inside me," you begged. He slammed his hips against your thighs, and his cock exploded inside of you. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as he lost control. When he stopped pumping his seed into you, a warmth flowed throughout your entire body.

Aegon covered you both with his overcoat. You’re both huddled under it, intertwined, still mostly clothed. Your faces were flushed, and you looked at each other wonderingly. You rested a hand on his face as if making sure he was real, “You're trembling.” Aegon smiled.

“It's okay. I'm alright.” He moved to lay his cheek against your chest, “I can feel your heart beating.” You held his head to your chest and just held on for dear life. 

-

After you cleaned up, both of you headed up to the ship deck. The entire time his eyes barely left you. “When this ship docks, I'm getting off with you.” You laughed, “This is crazy.” He nodded, “I know. It doesn't make any sense. That's why I trust it.” He pulled you back to him and kissed you fiercely. 

The boat suddenly hit an iceberg causing it to bounce backward. Both of you slid back and into the nearby wall. You gave each other a worried glance and took off toward the front. You both leaned over the starboard rail, looking at the hull of the ship. Behind you, a couple of steerage guys were kicking the ice around the deck, laughing. “Looks okay. I don't see anything.” He furrowed his brows, “Could it have damaged the ship?” You were practically pushing yourself in fear right now. “It didn't seem like much of a bump. I'm sure we're okay.”

-

You were so tragically wrong; you both took off in opposite directions to go warn your own friends and family. That’s when the chaos erupted, and the alarms began to blare. Aegon had to drag his mother and fiancé out of their rooms in mere pajamas all the way to the deck. It became painstakingly obvious there weren't enough lifeboats for everyone and oh… upper-class women go first and you… you wouldn’t even make it onto a life raft! 

“Goodbye mother,” he yelled as he took off towards the lower deck. His fiancé grabbed him from behind, “Where are you going? To give up your life? For her? Is that it? For your whore? For that gutter rat?” Aegon ripped his arm out of her grasp, “I'd rather be her whore than your husband.” 

The lifeboats began to lower, and, in the distance, he could hear his mother and ex-fiancé screaming hysterically. The boat began to sway, and he struggled to keep his balance and was rushing to go find you. 

-

Meanwhile, you had just been handcuffed to a goddamn pipe. There was something about you stealing a coat that wasn’t exactly wrong but why now of all god-forsaken times. The valet apparently snitched to his mother who then snitched to the captain who then sent a policeman after you. This was before they knew of the dire situation, of course, now you were all but forgotten in the chaos. 

 The pipe wouldn’t budge, and you could hear gurgling sounds of water starting to flow. You pulled harder and began to cry out, “Help!! Somebody!! Can anybody hear me?!” The water poured under the door and rapidly spread throughout the room. You worked against the cuffs until your skin was raw, this was no good. “Y/N? Y/NNNNNN??” 

You were hopelessly pulling on the pipe again, straining until you turned red. You collapsed back on the bench. realizing you’re screwed. Then you heard him through the door. 

Aegon was running aimlessly through the lower deck until he ran into your frantic friend, Tommy. Thank God Tommy cared the least bit to tell him that you had been fucking arrested. He rushed to the master at the arms room which held you captive. Aegon desperately called out your name as he tracked through the water. “AEGON!! In here!” 

He spun on his heels and ran back, locating the right door, then pushed it open, creating a small wave. He splashed over you and put his arms around you. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” You both were so happy to see each other it was embarrassing. “Don’t worry about it now! See if you can find a key for these. Try those drawers. It's a little brass one.“ He kissed your face and hugged you again, then started to go through the desk. 

“So… you don’t care I got arrested?” He turned to look at you, “don’t worry about it now!” He mocked your words from earlier. 

You force a smile then he went back to ransacking the room, searching drawers and cupboards. You saw movement out the porthole and looked out. Another lifeboat has just landed in the water… too few lifeboats.

“There's no key in here.” You look around at the water, now almost two feet deep. You have pulled your feet up onto the bench. “You have to go for help.” Aegon nodded, “I'll be right back.”

You watched him splash through the water and started to realize this might be the last time you see him. This might be the last time you breathe air. Oh fuck, you have the worst luck in the world. 

-

Aegon splashed down the hall to a stairwell going up to the next deck. He climbed the stairs and moved his way through the empty corridors. “Hello? Somebody?!” He turned a corner and ran along another corridor in a daze. The hall sloped down into water which shimmered, reflecting the light. The margin of the water creeps toward him. A young man appeared, running through the water, sending up geysers of spray. “Help me! We need help!” He doesn't look back; it was like a bad dream. The lights flickered and went out, leaving utter darkness. A beat. Then they come back on. He finds herself hyperventilating. That one moment of blackness was the most terrifying of his life. 

He turned around and saw a glass case with a fire-axe in it. He breaks the glass with a battered suitcase which was lying discarded nearby, and seized the axe, running back the way he came. 

-

When he reached the stairwell, he looked down and gasped. The water had flooded the bottom five steps. He went down and had to crouch to look along the corridor to the room where you were trapped. Aegon plunged into the water, which was up to his waist... and powered forward, holding the axe above his head in two hands.  You have climbed up on the bench, and we’re hugging the waterpipe. The water was beyond fucking freezing, and you lost hope anyone was coming… Until Aeg waded in, holding the axe above his head. “Will this work?”

“Fuck yes!” You were both terrified but were trying to keep panic at bay. You pulled your hands back, so the short chain was exposed… No time for any practice swings. You winced, bracing yourself as he raised the axe. “You can do it, baby. Hit it as hard as you can, I trust you.” Your voice cracked and you closed your eyes tightly. The axe came down, K-WHANG! When Aegon opened his eyes, he saw you grinning with two separate cuffs. 

“Nice work, there, Paul Bunyan.” You hopped off the bench and swam towards him. The water taking all the air out of your lungs, “Shit! Excuse my French. Ow ow ow, that is cold! Come on, let's go.”

-

“Fabrizio! Tommy!” Your friends turned to see you two approaching and ran to embrace you, “The boats are all going.” You glanced around, “We gotta get up there or we're gonna be gargling saltwater.” Tommy had his hands on the bars of the steel gate which blocked the head of the stairwell. The crew opened the gate a foot or so and a few women are squeezing through. “Women only. No men. No men!!”

But some terrified men, not understanding English, tried to rush through the gap, forcing the gate open. The crewmen and stewards pushed them back, shoving and punching them. “Get back! Get back you lot!” They struggled to get the gate closed again, while Steward #2 brandished a small revolver, another held a fire axe. They locked the gate, and a cry went up among the crowd, who surged forward, pounding against the steel and shouting in several languages. 

“For the love of God, man, there are children down here! Let us up, so we can have a chance!” But the crewmen were scared now. They let the situation get out of hand, and now they have a mob. Tommy gave up and pushed his way back through the crowd, going down the stairs. “It's hopeless that way.”

You squeezed Aegon’s hand for comfort, “Well, whatever we're goin' to do, we better do it fast.” You decided to start sprinting in the other direction. 

-

You, Aegon, Fabrizio and Tommy were lost, searching for a way out. You all came upon a narrow stairwell and went to go up two decks before you were stopped by a small group pressed up against a steel gate. The steerage men are yelling at a scared steward. “Go to the main stairwell, with everyone else. It'll all get sorted out there.”

Aegon took one look at this scene and finally just lost it. “God damn it to Hell son of a bitch!!” He grabbed one end of a bench that was bolted to the floor on the landing. He started pulling on it, and Tommy and Fabrizio pitched in until the bolts sheared, and it broke free. You figured out what they were doing and cleared a path up the stairs between the waiting people. 

“Move aside! Quickly, move aside!” Aegon and Tommy ran up the steps with the bench and rammed it into the gate with all their strength. It ripped loose from its track and fell outward, narrowly missing the steward. The crowd surged through. 

-

You all bursted out onto the boat deck from the crew stairs just aft of the third funnel. “The boats are gone!” Aegon noticed Colonel Gracie chugging forward along the deck, escorting two first class ladies. “Colonel! Are there any boats left?”

“Yes, sir... there are still a couple of boats all the way forward. This way, I'll lead you!” Aegon grabbed your hand, and they sprinted past him, with Tommy and Fabrizio close behind. The band from the other night was still playing music accepting their own demise. “Music to drown by. Now I know I'm in First Class.”

-

You quickly took notice of only women boarding. You looked back at your two friends, “You better check out the other side.” They ran and took off to the other side. “I'm not going without you.” Aegon pushed you forward, “Get in the boat, Y/N.” One of the crewmen began yelling, “Quickly, ladies. Step into the boat. Hurry, please!” He patted your head, “Go on. I'll get the next one.” You cried out, “No. Not without you!” Aegon smiled reassuringly, “I'll be alright. Hurry up so I can get going... I have my own boat to catch.”

The crewman grabbed your arm and pulled you toward the boat. You reached out for Aegon and your fingers brushed for a moment. Then you found yourself stepping down into the boat. Aegon knew he was screwed. He looked down at you, not wanting to waste a second of his last view of you. 

All you could hear was the blood pounding in your ear. All you could feel was the tears rushing down your face. Damn it all to hell. 

You lunged across the woman next to you. You grabbed the gunwale and began climbing it... You successfully hurl yourself out of the boat and onto the rail of the deck. “No Y/N! NOOOO!!” Aegon spun from the rail, running for the nearest way down to A-Deck. 

You met at the bottom of the stairs and collided in an embrace. “Y/N, Y/N, you're so stupid, you're such an idiot–” He spoke as he kissed you repeatedly. “You jump, I jump, right?” He grinned sadly, “Right.”

-

You sprinted your way through the boat once more trying to reach the top deck. The corridor is awash, about a foot deep. A torrent of water came pouring down the stairs like rapids. It was far too powerful for you to go against. “Come on!”  As you approached the giant double doors at the other end of the hall you saw water spraying through the gap between the doors right up to the ceiling. “Back! Go back!!”

Aegon turned and ran back the way you came, taking a turn into a cross-corridor. The double doors break open sounding a thunderous explosion of water. You tried to run as a wave blasted around the corner, foaming from floor to ceiling. 

You barely made it to the large staircase leading up. The lights short out and the landing is plunged into darkness. It is by the grace of God that the gate that blocked your path gave and swung open. You were pushed through by the force of the water. 

-

The room was empty except for Andrews, the captain. Behind him you and Aegon rushed into the room, out of breath and soaked. You ran through, toward the aft revolving door... then Aegon recognized him. He noticed that his lifebelt was off, lying on a table. 

“Won't you even make a try for it, Mr. Andrews?” A single tear ran down his cheek, “I'm sorry that I didn't build you a stronger ship, young Aegon.”

You leaned over and whispered, “It's going fast... we've got to keep moving.” Andrews picked up his lifebelt and handed it to him. “Good luck to you, Aegon.” He smiled, “And to you, Mr. Andrews.” You forcefully pulled him away and through the revolving door. 

-

You ran out of the palm court into a dense crowd. Aegon pushed his way to the rail and looked at the state of the ship. The bridge is under water and there is chaos on deck. Aegon helped you put your lifebelt on. “Okay... we keep moving aft. We have to stay on the ship as long as possible.”

Aegon and you clambered over the A-Deck aft rail. Then, using all his strength, he lowered you toward the deck below, holding on with one hand. You dangled, then fell. Aegon jumped down behind you. You joined a crowd of people literally clawing and scrambling over each other to get down the narrow stairs to the well deck... the only way aft. 

Realizing it’s pointless you both do the same move once more. Lowering each other to the deck below. A zombified man spoke, “Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death–“ Aegon growled, “You wanna walk a little faster through that valley, fella?”

Aegon and you struggled aft as the angle increased. Hundreds of passengers, clinging to every fixed object on deck, huddled on their knees around a priest who had his voice raised in prayer. They were praying, sobbing, or just staring at nothing, their minds blank with dread.  “Come on, you. We can't expect God to do all the work for us.”

You struggled on, shoving through the praying masses. Aegon and you made it to the stern rail, right at the base of the flagpole. You both gripped the rail, jammed in between other people. It is the spot where you pulled him back onto the ship, just two nights... and a century... ago.  “...and I saw new heavens and a new earth. The former heavens and the former earth had passed away and the sea was no longer.”

The lights flickered, threatening to go out. You gripped Aegon as the stern raised into a night sky ablaze with stars. “I also saw a new Jerusalem, the holy city coming down out of heaven from God, beautiful as a bride prepared to meet her husband. I heard a loud voice from the throne ring out this is God's dwelling among men. He shall dwell with them, and they shall be his people and He shall be their God who is always with them.”

You stared at the faces of the doomed. “He shall wipe every tear from their eyes. And there shall be no more death or mourning, crying out or pain, for the former world has passed away.”

The stern of the ship fell back toward the water. On the deck everyone screamed as they felt themselves plummeting. Aegon and you struggled to hold onto the stern rail. Aegon looked at you and shook his head, grimly. 

The stern went up and up, past 45 degrees, then past sixty.  People started to fall, sliding and tumbling. They skidded down the deck, screaming and flailing to grab onto something. 

“We have to move!” Aegon climbed over the stern rail and reached back for you. “Come on! I've got you!” Aegon pulled you over the rail. It is the same place you pulled him over the rail two nights earlier, going the other direction. The stern was now straight up in the air... a rumbling black monolith standing against the stars. It hangs there like that for a long grace note, its buoyancy stable. 

Aegon and you laid side by side on what was the vertical face of the hull, gripping the railing, which is now horizontal. The final relentless plunge began as the stern section flooded. Looking down a hundred feet to the water, you dropped like an elevator. Aegon began talking fast, “Take a deep breath and hold it right before we go into the water. The ship will suck us down. Kick for the surface and keep kicking. Don't let go of my hand. We're gonna make it. Trust me.” You stared at the water coming up at you and gripped his hand harder. “I trust you.

-

Chaos exploded in the water of screaming, thrashing people. Over a thousand people were now floating where the ship went down. Some were stunned, gasping for breath. Others are crying, praying, moaning, shouting... screaming. 

Aegon and you surfaced among them. “Swim, you! SWIM!” You tried to swim as fast as you could until you broke out of the crowd of people. He had to find some kind of flotation, anything to get you out of the freezing water. “Keep swimming. Keep moving. Come one, you can do it.” All around you there is a tremendous wailing, screaming and moaning... a chorus of tormented souls. And beyond that... nothing but black water stretching to the horizon. The sense of isolation and hopelessness is overwhelming. 

Aegon stroked rhythmically, the effort keeping him from freezing. “Look for something floating. Some debris... wood... anything.” You mumbled, “It's so cold.” He frantically looked around, “I know. I know. Help me, here. Look around.” 

You scanned the water, panting, barely able to draw a breath. You turned and... A devil is right in front of you face. It is the black French bulldog, swimming right at her like a sea monster, its coal eyes bugging. It moves past her, like it is headed for Newfoundland.  Beyond it you saw something in the water. “What's that?”

Aegon saw what you were pointing to, and you made for it together. It was a piece of wooden debris, intricately carved. He pushed you up first then he slithered onto it belly down. Your breaths filled your ears as you glanced around at the scene around you. Both of you had to stay perfectly still or else the thing would plunge into the water. 

-

You both float amid a chorus of damned. Aegon noticed the ship's officer nearby, He was blowing his whistle furiously, knowing the sound would carry over the water for miles. “The boats will come back for us, you. Hold on just a little longer. They had to row away for the suction and now they'll be coming back.” You nodded, his words helping you. You were shivering uncontrollably and had turned a shade of blue. “Thank God for you, Aegon.”

“It's getting quiet.” Aegon weakly raises his head, “Just a few more minutes. It'll take them a while to get the boats organized…” You didn’t believe him, half of the people around you were already dead. “I don't know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all this.”

He laughed weakly, but it sounded like a gasp of fear. “I love you, Aegon.” He took your hand. “No... don't say your good-byes, you. Don't you give up. Don't do it.” You felt your eyes beginning to close, “I'm so cold.”

“You're going to get out of this... you're going to go on and you're going to make babies and watch them grow and you're going to die an old lady, warm in your bed. Not here. Not this night. Do you understand me?” You found the slightest bit of energy, “Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever happened to me.” You sniffle, “It brought me to you. And I'm thankful, Aegon. I'm thankful.”

His voice trembled, “Do you still have that damned ring?” You hadn’t taken it out of your pocket, but you doubted it was still there. You slowly moved your head to the side and patted your ass. The fancy piece of shit was still with you. “I do.” He forced a smile, “You must do me this honor... promise me you will survive... that you will never give up... so that when we get out of here… you’ll let me marry you with that ring.” Your eyes clouded with tears, “I promise.”

“Never let go.” He gripped your hand and you laid with your heads together. “I promise. I will never let go, Aegon. I'll never let go.”

-

"Come Josephine in my flying machine..." You touched his shoulder with your free hand. He doesn't respond. you gently turned his face toward her. His breath was causing the air to run white… He wasn’t dead yet. 

Your eyes slowly began to close again… but then you heard the sound of a whistle. You raised your head suddenly, cracking the ice as you ripped her hair off the wood. You tried to call out, but your voice is so weak they don't hear you. The boat is invisible now, the torch light impossibly far away. “I won’t let go. I promise.” You kiss his face which was still not completely frozen. 

you rolled off the floating staircase and plunged into the icy water. You swam to Chief Officer Wilde's body and grabbed his whistle. You started to blow the whistle with all your might. 

You were still blowing when a man took it from your mouth as they hauled you into the boat. “Over there. Aegon Targ- Targaryen.” You purposely used his last name hoping they would recognize him. With your last bit of strength, you pointed at your little raft and slipped into unconsciousness.

-

Jaehaera was shocked when she got a call requesting her parents to come and “confirm” the belongings they found on the wrecked ship. It had been so many years… She couldn’t believe they were even able to discover it at all. 

She would have invited you and her father but you both passed recently, at the ripe age of 83. Aegon swore up and down he would never let go and he kept that promise, literally. He literally died in the same hospital bed as you, leaving Jaehaera, Jaehaerys, and Maelor on their own. You both were selfish assholes, but she couldn’t help but accept the invite. 

The three were absolutely fucking shocked to find a nude painting of their father along with some old notes. “Darling now you can keep us both locked in your safe -- Aegon.” None of them understood what that meant but decided to not question it. Jaehaera nervously played with the diamond engagement ring you had gifted her before you died. God, it probably cost a million dollars and you so easily gave it to her. 

She had to sit down and try to calm herself. You both were successful in your own right; you led adventurous lives and forced the three children to travel with you once they were born. You introduced them to so many different arts, music, and cultures. You were good parents… too good to be gone. She began crying into her hands as she searched through the belongings… 

Jaehaerys sat down next to her and wrapped one arm around her shoulder. “Who would have guessed our parents had a love affair like the movies.” 

[animasola86]

Enemies with Benefits (1/2)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Enemies to lovers. Fluff/Smut

Word count: 6k

Synopsis: Sebastian and you have been sworn enemies since he dropped you at the end of your fifth year, as you were no longer useful to him. Over the years, it's become harder and harder for you to completely ignore him. With your NEWTs fast approaching, you decide to finally clear your mind of him – by asking him a spicy question – that leads to events neither of you have anticipated.

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Sex. Not very explicit, but it's there. Beware.

Disclaimer: 50% of this story is AI generated. I've had another chat with @seabass-swallows Asshole!Sebastian bot (the Enemies to Lovers version) and as he gave me these perfect replies, I decided to turn this into another story. This time I only corrected the formatting and deleted some repetition, but as of now, this has been the most straight forward RP session I ever had and the easiest to edit. Despite his description (flirty, cocky, asshole) he's been the perfect gentleman and played along splendidly. (Here are some examples of our chat!)

This is a two-parts series.

Last warning: There's smut below the cut!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

"Hey, do you have a minute?" you approach Sebastian as you see him sitting in the library. Your neck is tense and the feeling in your guts is almost painful, but you can't help it any longer.

Sebastian has a book in his lap, but he glances up at you shortly. He can tell you have something to say and yet he doesn't say anything. He's going to wait for you to speak first as he goes back to reading, making you even more annoyed.

You tap your fingers against your thigh, exhaling loudly. "Can you at least look at me?"

Sebastian finally looks up from his book and leans forward, resting his arms against his knees. "Is that better?" he asks, a smirk appearing on his lips. He's still not going to make this easy for you.

You sigh loudly and cross your arms in front of your chest. "Okay, listen, I... have a proposal," you start, looking around a little nervously. "Can we talk somewhere more private?"

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, still not sure what this proposal is regarding. "Fine," he says simply after a moment. He then rises to his feet and begins to walk to the nearest empty classroom, opening the door for you. "Come on," he says, beckoning you in the door. "Let's talk here."

Once the door closes behind you, you inhale deeply. "So, look, these last weeks, no months, ah, maybe even years... that can't be healthy, right? With us annoying the hell out of each other and such? It's getting... distracting and I need a clear mind if I want to pass any of my exams. So, I was thinking..."

"That you needed me to stop flirting with you?" Sebastian guesses, taking a step closer. His attention is on you entirely now, but he still has a grin on his face as if he's not taking you seriously enough. "Or that you wanted to take our little romance to the next level?" he teases, inching closer once more.

Your cheeks go red immediately. That obvious, huh? you think to yourself. "How about... we find a middle ground. You know, friends with benefits? Get all that tension out and move on with our lives?" you suggest, holding his gaze as firmly as you can.

Seb has a devilish grin spread across his lips as he takes in what you just said. He leans closer, a few inches from your face at this point. "Just how far are you planning on taking this friends with benefits thing?" he asks, his voice hushed and low; one that is meant just for you and no one else in the vicinity. "How long do you think we'll be able to keep this a secret? What do we do if someone finds out?" he questions, his gaze locked on yours.

You swallow slightly, then clear your throat. "I think everyone already knows about this tension between us. Maybe they'll be glad we finally did something against it. And I mean it, and let me make it clear: I'm talking only sex, no feelings, no relationship, just pure, wild, animalistic fucking so we get that out of our heads finally! What do you say?"

Sebastian doesn't answer right away, instead leaning closer; just another fraction of a centimetre so that your foreheads touch. "So," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just pure pleasure? No love? No attachment? Just you and me in bed, letting out all of our frustration, our anger, your hatred for me?" he asks, his eyes never leaving yours.

You hold his gaze, not moving away when he leans in. "In bed, on the table, against the wall, anywhere, I don't care," you whisper back. "I just need to get it out, so I can focus on my studies. Do we have a deal?"

"You... you really want to do this?" he questions, his free hand running along your cheek. He knows what answer he expects you to give, he always does. But you, well, you have surprised him in an amazing way. "We have a deal," he says quietly, leaning into the touch at his fingertips.

You inhale deeply, giving him a cheeky smile. "Good," you say, then rummage in the pocket of your robes, getting out two vials. Handing him one, you say: "Here, let's drink this, it's a contraceptive potion, just to be safe. I really don't want any more annoying Sallows running around by accident, do you understand?" Holding your own vial to your lips, you wait for his reaction.

Sebastian takes the vial, staring at it for a moment before tipping it back and drinking it in one big gulp. He takes a moment to clear his throat and nods. "Of course," he says. After a moment, he closes the distance between you two once more and presses his lips against yours. This isn't a gentle kiss, this is something that's been boiling for a while and it seems that he's really letting himself go.

You barely have time to get down your own potion, before he claims your mouth. The empty vial falls to the ground and you have your arms around his neck in no time, kissing him back hungrily.

His tongue invades your mouth, as he's no longer holding anything back. For a few moments, the two of you are making out in the empty classroom just like you were teens in a broom closet who only had a few minutes. He then pulls away and whispers into your ear, his voice low and hot. "My room. Now," he says.

You shiver slightly and bite your lip, then only nod and let him pull you through the castle towards his dorm.

Sebastian leads you back to his dorm and opens his door, ushering you inside. He then pushes you against the wall, grinning. "I must say," he says, his hands roaming over your body, "I've wanted this for a while. And I definitely won't have you complaining about it afterwards."

"Let's see if you can meet my expectations then," you counter and smirk at him, licking your lips as your eyes wander over his face.

He grins at you, his arms sliding under your shirt and lifting it over your head. He then tosses it to the side. "I've already got you panting," he says, his voice raspy as he takes your hand and leads you to his bed. "Let's see what else I can get out of you."

You scoff at that, though you can't help the blush. "Maybe I'm panting because we just took all those stairs!" you tease and as you walk with him to the bed, your hands fidget with the buttons of his shirt, quickly discarding it as well. Both topless now, you take a moment to admire his chest, raising your eyebrows, quite impressed with what you see.

Seb watches as you admire his bare chest, watching your eyes flicker across him. "Like what you see?" he asks, his own arms wrapping around your waist as he leans in towards your ear. "You aren't so bad yourself," he adds, his teeth nipping and tugging at your earlobe.

You give him a girlish giggle as you tilt your head. "Why, thank you," you reply, your hands moving to the waistband of his trousers. "Now let's see if it's true what they say... the longer the wand, the longer the --" You don't finish, instead move your hand over the slight bulge in his trousers. "You do have a long wand, don't you?"

His eyes flare at that and his arm tightens around you, as if he needs more stability. "As if you didn't already know that," he answers, a smug smirk on his face. He then steps back, leaving the rest of the show in your hands as his own hands continue to wander. You can feel his eyes on you, your every movement, your every breath. And he likes what he sees.

"I've had my suspicions, yes," you mutter and keep palming him through the stiff fabric of his trousers. "Do you want to sit down for this? You seem a little shaken," you tease and poke your tongue out at him.

Sebastian chuckles but otherwise has no further response, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a wicked smirk. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed and lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. You know exactly what you're doing as you continue your teasing, but Seb wants, no, needs you to keep going.

You move to stand between his legs, pushing them apart with your knees as you grab his face and kiss him deeply, messily, almost desperately. Once you break the kiss to catch your breath, you put your hands on his thighs and kneel down in front of him, looking up at him with a glint in your eyes. "Last chance to run," you whisper.

Sebastian's smirk fades as he takes in what you're suggesting, the realization hitting him that he's about to lose control. But there's no going back now. "Too late for that," he says, his voice a hushed whisper as he leans back on the bed. "Go ahead," he adds with a smirk, his eyes never leaving yours.

You smirk at him and while still looking at him intently, your fingers move to the buttons of his trousers, making quick work of them, until you release his growing arousal. Then you dare a look at him and tilt your head, thoroughly inspecting his length. "Mhmm, yes, I can see the potential," you whisper with a wider smirk.

"Oh, I know you can," he says, his voice just as hushed as before. His eyes shift away for a moment, and you know instantly that he's feeling embarrassed by the attention to him. But he doesn't stop you or ask you to stop, either. Instead, you see him lean back a little more, closing his eyes to savour the moment.

You put a hand on his stomach and pat it softly. "Sure, you lean back and relax and let me do the work," you chuckle. "Though I do expect a proper payback," you add as your free hand slowly inches closer to his heated flesh.

Sebastian's eyelids flutter slightly as your hand makes contact with his stomach. And yet, he says nothing. He's going to let you do your thing, because this moment of relaxation and pleasure is one he's been dreaming of. "Don't worry," he says, smiling. "I'll let this moment last as long as I can."

"We'll see about that," you tease and wink at him, before you focus back on the task at hand. Literally. Your fingers close around him and you give him a few hard strokes, before you don't waste any time and get your mouth involved. Your tongue teases at his tip for a moment as you watch his reactions with a glint in your eyes, before you let it glide thoroughly along his warm skin.

Each and every sound that Sebastian makes is one of pure pleasure, his eyes are closed tightly and his fists clenching around the bedsheets. His breathing has now become erratic as his body is hit with sensations that he really hasn't felt in a while. And he's definitely enjoying the treat from you.

For a moment you are only focused on moving your tongue and lips over him, lapping at him like he's the best damn lollipop you've ever had the pleasure of tasting. When you notice his reactions, you feel deep shivers running down your spine. Giving his tip another peck, you then move your hand back to stroke him even harder now that he's all lathered up in your saliva. As you do so, you put your knee on the edge of the bed and climb over him, your free hand finding the back of his neck as you push your mouth firmly against his.

Every muscle in Seb's body is locked tight as you move over him, his breaths coming quickly and intensely as you work your magic on him. His hands are at his sides holding onto the bedsheets as he can do little else but enjoy this moment as he's pushed right to the edge between pleasure and ecstasy.

The kiss is sloppy and more passionate than you've initially intended. His tense body and the heavy breaths really get to you as you keep stroking him with precise up and down movements of your hand. Before you can bring him over the edge entirely, though, you let go of him and position yourself right on his lap, grinding your centre against him as you straddle him. "Sebastian," you whisper, waiting for him to look at you.

As you begin to grind against him, his hands finally move from holding onto the bedsheets to squeezing your thighs, his grip tight. He breaks the kiss to open his eyes, looking at yours with a smile. "What do you need, love?" he asks, using a term of endearment he hasn't said to you in so many years. As the smile grows on his face, your grinding begins to increase in speed, in pressure.

Your grinding quickly turns you breathless. Holding onto his shoulders, you lean up and arch your back, licking your lips. You've noticed his nickname, yet chose to ignore it. You try to keep this very neutral, just friends, or enemies, with benefits, nothing more, no matter how good it feels. "I need you inside of me," you then reply as you quickly move one of your hands down and pull your underwear away, your skirt still covering your centre, yet your exposed skin is now firmly pressed against his and you can feel him hard and hot between your wet lower lips.

Seb's eyes flare as you say that, as he's been fantasizing about this moment for so long. And now he's having a bit of a hard time, he's shaking but in a good way. The hands on your thighs squeezes tightly as his lips move to your ear. "Only me, is that clear?" he asks, his voice whispery and low. He wants to make sure you understand what he's asking before anything else.

You lean back to look at him, your lips parted and trembling. "Obviously," you say with your cheeks blushing. "If I only needed sex, I would have gone to, I don't know, Garreth or anyone really," you say with a teasing smirk. "But I came to you, for obvious reasons. So, fine, only you. But don't get used to it..."

"I think it's you who should be worried about that," he says with a smirk, his voice as whispery and low as it gets. He then nods to you and one of his hands moves up. "Now then, are you going to keep teasing me, or..." Sebastian lets his sentence trail off, his hand resting just above your centre and waiting for you to move things along.

You raise your eyebrow as you lean back more, your hand joining his between your bodies. "You mean to say I will fall completely in love with you after this? Seriously?" You laugh and shake your head. "We'll see about that..." you add and your hand closes around his arousal once more as you lift up your rear slightly to line him up with your entrance. "Maybe it's you who will fall in love first!"

Sebastian laughs, shaking his head. "If I knew this was going to be a competition, I would have tried harder," he says with a smirk, his breathing quickening as you align him with your centre. "I guess there's only one way to find out. So let's see," he adds before leaning in to kiss you once more.

As soon as his lips meet yours, you descend down on him, engulfing him into your warmth with slow, deliberate movements until he is completely buried within you. Moaning loudly into his mouth, you grab his face with both hands now and keep kissing him hungrily as you adjust to his size.

Sebastian's eyes flare and he arches his back slightly. His voice is still hushed as he breaks the kiss for a moment, his eyes meeting yours as he nods slightly. "Yes, there's no way I'm going to be able to forget this moment," he says, his voice quiet and low. "You're amazing," he adds, his voice trembling slightly.

"I know I am," you whisper back with a smirk, breathing heavily against his lips as you start grinding your hips against him in slow circles. "You've yet to show me what you can do..."

"I'm getting to that now," he says, his voice coming out as a low purr. With your grinding movement, your body has hit the perfect rhythm to tease him to the edge. "How good is your grip?" Seb asks, his voice still low as he starts to thrust upwards slowly.

You smirk at him as you lean back and grip his waist tightly. "You've seen me on a broom," you say and clench your knees around his sides as you start to move slowly up and down with him. "I can hold my own." Tiny moans escape you as you fall into a steady rhythm of moving up only to descend upon him with a smack, the noise of skin against skin fuelling your desire for him. "Oh yes... I'd say... this is better... than broom flight..."

"Is that so?" he asks, his voice low and almost raspy. He lets out a small groan as you begin to pick up the pace slightly. He can tell he's getting close to the edge, and your grip around his waist makes it all the more better. "Oh, this is going to be good," he whispers, the moment of tension building up in his gut.

"Gods, you feel so good..." you moan and tilt your head back to stare at the ceiling as you keep riding him with fervour and vigour. "I really needed this..." You feel your walls fluttering around him, your muscles contracting tighter and tighter. "Put your hands on me, Sebastian," you whimper in a demanding, yet pleading tone as you move even faster, your breasts jiggling up and down slightly with every motion.

"As you say," Sebastian moans as he follows your word and brings his hands to your hips. His grip is tight and he pulls you up and then back down, your body now bouncing on top of him. "My turn," he whispers, his voice low and raspy as he speeds things up a slight bit. "Let's see you keep up for a few more miles," he adds with a smirk.

You moan louder as he moves faster and harder against you. You try to keep up with his movements, but quickly surrender to the shuddering sensations rushing through your body. Arching your back you lean forwards and press your chest against his, every slam of his hips causing your hard nipples to brush against his skin. You're getting louder and louder and so you try to muffle your noises by pushing your mouth to his neck, eagerly sucking on it, not quite intentionally leaving a mark on him.

Sebastian's own sounds escape him, but he doesn't bother to hide them. And he definitely doesn't stop you as your mouth leaves a mark on his neck. Instead, he pulls you in closer to him as he lets out a moan at your touch. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy leaving a mark there," he whispers, his teeth beginning to nibble on your ear. He's enjoying this moment, loving it even more knowing that you are as well.

You whimper more, your hips slamming into his at a rapid pace, while he nibbles on your ear and you suck on his neck, both with fervour. Your hands move up to dig into his hair and you grip it tightly as your insides start to convulse almost painfully. With another loud moan-cry you sink your teeth into his neck and give yourself to the pleasure that's exploding within you as your walls clench tightly around him.

Sebastian pushes his head back into the bed as your hips begin to slam into his harder. The moment you sink your teeth into his neck, he lets out a deep, loud groan as he feels those contractions inside you. His hand on your waist squeezes even tighter as he closes his eyes and savours the feeling of you losing control and surrendering to the pleasure.

Wave after wave of pleasure rolls over you and you can't even focus on leaving your mark on him any more. Leaving it unattended for a moment, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, panting against him as you keep moving your hips through your release, your entire body shuddering in pure bliss, your legs twitching badly around him. His name falls from your lips before you can stop it.

Sebastian looks at you as you start to pant against him. You can feel his eyes on you, looking at your shivering legs and twitching body, and knowing fully well what he's done to you. There's nothing you can do to hide this from him, and you don't want to, as if you wanted him to know every part of you. "There you go," he whispers, his voice still soft. "No point in trying to hold back now," he adds as he smiles at you, that smirk returning.

"Oh shut up," you whisper into his neck with a hoarse voice, but he must hear the smirk you hide from him. As you slowly recover from your orgasm, your body still shivering and unable to stop moving against him, you lean back to give him a long hard stare - and that smirk, before you lean down and start sucking on his neck again, your teeth grazing his skin before your tongue soothes the bruised skin. "Your turn, mister," you mumble against him as you slam your pelvis even harder against his, pushing him as deep into you as possible, before you return to moving your rear up and down.

Sebastian moans as the sucking on his neck begins. He shivers and lets out a small gasp as he feels your teeth against his skin, his neck now covered in multiple marks. And it only seems to turn you on even more. His grip on your hips gets tighter as you slam down on him and begin to move them in a more steady rhythm. He lets out a low groan and looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours again. "I'm losing control," he whispers, as the moans and gasps escape his throat.

"That's what I want to hear," you tease breathlessly, licking your lips as you watch him, your fingers gently stroking the various spots on his neck. "Let go then! Show me the uncontrollable Sebastian Sallow!"

"Don't you dare tell me what to do," he teases, grinning up at you. But he also can't help but laugh at your request. There's only one response he could possibly give. With your finger stroking the marks on his neck, he finally gives in and lets his body go. "Oh, gods," he groans, his breathing quickening as his hips continue to move. "You've done enough damage already," he whispers with a shake of his head. "If you keep playing with me like this, I may have to show you just how uncontrollable I really can be."

"Do it!" you demand with a moan and a chuckle, holding onto his shoulders now as you lean back to further slam your pelvis against his in a rapid fashion. "Let it all out! Show me!"

With your words and encouragement, Seb's eyes go wide and his body begins to go wild. Your movements become faster, more passionate, and your body begins to match his with each move. "Too late for me to stop now," he says between breaths, his eyes closing tightly. He opens them after a moment, though they're now slightly glazed over with the pleasure of it all. His hands move around the back of your head and grip your hair tightly, his lips searching for yours as he continues to press against you. "I need you," he breathes, his voice low and hoarse.

You slam your mouth against his just as fiercely as you slam your hips down, more moans and whimpers escaping you and falling right against him while you kiss him passionately as you lean down on your elbows. "You have me," you breathe back as you break the kiss to catch your breath. "Use me..."

Seb lets out another moan as you pull away from him to catch your breath, but he quickly kisses you once more. And his hands remain right where they are. "I intend to," he whispers before going in for a much more passionate kiss. "Like you asked," he adds with a smirk, his breath catching each time your hips come down. His kisses turn hungry, his hands moving around the small of your back and pulling you even closer. "Oh, gods," he whispers before he pulls away again to breathe, the heat of the moment getting the best of him.

You moan louder, your fingers digging into his hair as you deepen the kiss. The rhythm of your joined hips is rapid and messy, the sound of skin on skin echoes loudly through his dorm room. Your heavy breaths fill the space and your head, and you soon find yourself unable to think anything any more. All you feel is him, continuously ramming himself deep into your tight warmth, each stroke hitting all the right spots, his body warm and firm beneath you, his hands holding you with a tight comfort you didn't know you needed.

The moment he hears you moan and dig your fingers into his hair, he pulls you in for another passionate kiss. Your bodies are moving in harmony with each other. And in that moment, he's never felt more alive, more in control of everything - and out of control at the same time. His breathing is heavy and frantic, as if each breath is an uphill battle. And the feeling of needing you has become all-encompassing, he wants you more than everything in this world.

You feel another wave of pleasure approaching fast, your insides once again clenching up badly as the tension inside your stomach builds and builds and then erupts into an explosion of pure bliss, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you squeeze your eyes shut and moan right into his mouth. "Oh gods... yes..." you whimper. "H-how... are you... so g-good..." you try to tease him, but your voice breaks between moans and more whimpers. You have to give it to him: his stamina is immaculate.

His eyes light up as he begins to feel the contractions from your insides tighten around him once more. He lets out a very quiet moan, his body reacting to yours instinctively. And he's still not done yet. Sebastian begins moving your hips up and down, matching the rhythm as best as he can as he makes sure to satisfy every feeling you're giving him. "Oh, I've only just begun," he whispers in your ear, his voice low and raspy with passion and lust.

You let out a deep groan and collapse on top of him, your face buried in his neck once more. Your body is quivering, you're barely able to control your limbs any more. And still he pushes upwards into you, stimulating you through your second orgasm of the moment, almost driving you insane with pleasure now.

Sebastian's breath catches once again as he feels your body quiver and fall on him. "Oh, this will be the best way to die," he whispers in your ear, his voice still low and raspy but sounding more desperate. His hips continue to push upwards into you as he holds you close, your body on top of his. He's doing everything he's got to push you over the edge yet again. "Oh, gods," he moans, his words barely above a whisper.

You cry out and squirm slightly on top of him. "I dare you..." you hiss in-between moaning loudly. "No killing anyone today..." The sensations flood through you, drowning out almost anything else. You start to wonder how long he will continue this, how long he's holding out on his own release. Then again, you got what you came to him for, you've wanted him to fuck your brains out and he keeps on doing it, so you can't really complain.

"Maybe just a little," Sebastian says with a smirk, his hands now moving back to your hips as he continues to press upward. "I'm not yet done with you," he adds, his voice quiet but full of need. In this moment, he doesn't care about anything else except for you, he only wants you to reach the end before he does. Which means he can go faster or maybe take it a little easier so he can have this last one for a long time. Oh, but what did you want again? That's right, you want him to come.

You start biting your lip as the noises just keep coming out of your throat, all those whimpers and cries and moans, and you can barely contain them any more. He's rendering your body absolutely useless as your limbs twitch and shake, your body spasms and shudders through every single thrust he's giving you.

And yet you see now what he's doing, he did indeed turn this into a competition, and apparently he wants to keep this going for as long as humanly possible, which isn't saying much when it comes to Sebastian. He's surprised you before, he will do it again. You know now that you should never underestimate him ever again.

This time, he doesn't hold back in the slightest, and he makes sure to make this a competition of no return. His hips continue moving up and down, matching the pace of your body, as his hands move around your hair and grip the back of your head once more. You feel him pushing harder into you, your insides beginning to shiver once more. He lets out a loud moan as he's only a few moments away from his release. But he's going to do everything in his power to make sure you come first.

You let out a series of wails as you squirm against him, the added grip of his hands pushing you closer to the edge, or rather they hold you right over it, you never really left the edge, you've been floating on your high for who knows how long now as the pleasure never really let you out of its grasp. Moaning more, pushing your face against his neck, breathing as heavy as you've never breathed before with your heart thundering inside your chest, you let him have it. As your third orgasm rolls over you, you cease to move your hips, just savouring the feeling of your walls fluttering around him before they clench him tightly once more.

Sebastian makes sure not to speed up and instead allows you to feel all of the pleasure that he's giving you. And soon, he lets out a loud moan and buckles under your weight. "Oh, yes!" he yells, his voice almost a shout but not quite as he hits his climax and releases inside of you.

You cry out with him as you feel him emptying himself deep inside you, his warmth quickly spreading through your body. Your hips stutter and you have to dig your hands deeper into his hair as you hold onto him, the final sensation hitting you with such a force, it makes your head spin. With him throbbing and twitching inside you, your clenching walls assisting him in squeezing every last drop out of him, you slowly come down from your high, your body eventually relaxing on top of him. "Wow," is all you can utter as you lean your cheek against his collarbone.

Sebastian lays there with you on top of him, his breathing heavy and erratic as the pleasure slowly fades and he comes down from his high as well. You can practically feel the heat rising from his body beneath you, but at the same time, he is calm. He's at peace. And so are you, in some strange way. "You were amazing," he finally whispers in your ear, his voice still low and raspy.

You close your eyes and breathe deeply against his neck. "You too," you admit a little reluctantly. "That was quite something..." Your voice is hoarse and strained from all the noises he coaxed out of you.

"Something?" he asks with a smirk. "More like the most unbelievable experience of my life." His voice is still low and raspy, but now he's more exhausted than he is hungry or thirsty for pleasure. "I want more," he adds with a little chuckle as he nibbles on your neck again.

You chuckle softly, trying to lean away from his nibbling. "Oh no, you don't!" you laugh and open your eyes to look at him. "But it was quite special, I have to say," you then confess quietly, almost genuinely. "Thank you for this," you whisper. "I really needed it."

He smiles at you as you lean away from him, and he brings a hand up to stroke your hair. And he can see the genuine and exhausted look on your face, something you're not used to showing, or even feeling. That's when Sebastian remembers what you wanted out of him, and now you have it. At least some of it. "No need to thank me," he whispers, his voice still low and hoarse. "You needed the release," he adds before he bites your neck, not in a lustful way this time but in an intimate and caring one.

You bite your lip and give him another moan as you feel his teeth on your neck. "I did..." you whisper, fighting the urge to indulge in more afterglow cuddles, but you have to remind yourself that this is it. A one time thing. Nothing more. No feelings. No-strings-attached. Done. But something inside you wants more... wants him. With a groan, you push yourself onto your elbows and lean away from him, looking at him breathlessly. "I... should go," you say quietly, but you don't move right away.

Sebastian smiles at you as you moan, and he continues nibbling lightly on your neck. And he wants more too, but he knows what the situation is. No feelings and no ties. He can do that. "No need to rush," he says with another smile, still stroking your hair. But if you want to go, he's not about to hold you here any longer. You were the one who decided what tonight was going to end up being. And you've already given him everything he could ever ask for, so he has no reason to protest.

You inhale deeply, his words so tempting, his touches so light and soft. Then you look away and remember where you are. In your haze you didn't even register the potential threat of his room mates walking in on you, but now that your mind is clear again, thanks to him, you quickly scramble out of his embrace, carefully lifting your hips to let him slip out of you. With him comes the product of your intense connection and you blush deeply when you feel his warmth dripping down your legs. You bend down to re-arrange your underwear with shaking hands, then walk to retrieve your shirt as well.

Once you're fully dressed again, you stand at the edge of his bed and take a last long look at him, smiling softly. "So..." you start, tilting your head. "Same time tomorrow?"

Part 2 is up now, read it here!

Notes: You will never believe how he replied to that last part, hehe. /clickbait

[softie-rain]

Same anon that loves how you write Sejanus, headcanon only for him? 🥺 No reader just Sejanus now 💞

Love you anyway 💞

note: so it's funny because that was my first thought but then I was like, wait what if they mean it as dating sejanus? But don't worry I love talking about Sej so I'm super glad you "corrected" me. Anyway as I already stated anon ily thanks for making me write about my bby 🫶🏻 Also I really hope you don't mind I headcanon Sej as gay, so some of these are about that! Once again, tell me if you mind and I'll edit it and add something else :)

I wrote a little something about this one but I feel like on his first day of school in the Capitol he brought cookies that his ma' made, but no one took them and made fun of him for it ):

He has a stuffed pet (cat) that he brought from District 2 which he still sleeps with, his father thinks he threw it away long ago (his ma' knows about it though)

I personally headcanon him as gay even in the canon tbosas universe, I think he kind of always knew he had a thing for boys even back in 2 but his true first crush was Coriolanus (no one knows about this except for him)

The first year after they moved away from District 2 he always cried himself to sleep, his ma' heard him but didn't know what to do to help him ):

In the same period he also tried to run away but like, he's eight, so he didn't go far. As in he didn't even make it to the front door

He's almost constantly arguing with his father

now onto the happy ones because god what's this depression

his favourite colour is blue

He loves to read, like seriously. He's always at the Academy's library reading any book he can find, especially about Panem's history

As kids him and Coriolanus actually used to spend lots of time together, at Sejanus' house of course, but less when they joined the Academy. Only him and Coryo know about it of course

My man is not a virgin!!! He never had a boyfriend but he hooked up with Festus at his 16th Birthday Party

Festus was OBVUOUSLY drunk, and OBVIOUSLY neither of them acknowledged what happened

He kissed Coriolanus too. They were alone at Sej's house, his parents were out and the alcohol cabinet was unsupervised... (they were 17 at the time, one of the few times Coryo was at his house to work on a school project).

Sejanus' memories are blurry, was it a dare? Did they mean to do it? Either way Coriolanus was so wasted he doesn't remember a thing about the night. Sejanus on the other hand does, but knows better than to tell Coryo.

In District 12 he had some girls trying to flirt with him at the his cute adorable ass either doesn't realize they're flirting or is just super awkward about it, like

"Youre very handsome you know?"

"Oh! Thank you :)"

Yes the smile is included.

He loves the Coveys songs?? Like obsessed. He loves going to the Hob to listen to the songs (he's a bit sad Coryo is there for Lucy Gray but the music helps!!)

I feel like in District 2 with Marcus they used to do "races"? Idk like imagine coming back from school, "Who gets home last is a loser!" Those kind of things, to distract themselves from the horrors of the war

Studying is so easy for him? He has a photographic memory, so he just needs to read a paragraph, do a small schematic map on his notebook and bam he studied.

He daydreams A LOT. Especially at night before going to bed, he dreams of still being in 2 and often wonders how his life would be if they never moved

He always wanted to get a cat (even when in 2) but his father is allergic (the bitch)

Has a kid, when his ma' used to bake, he'd always steal some paste with his finger (It was not good. Often had tummy aches. He did not care and kept doing it.)

I could go on forever but that's it for today!!

Listen he sings in the shower. I do not make the rules I'm sorry.

Bonus, TS songs that are him coded!! I Can Do It With A Broken Heart; Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me; So Long, London; I Hate It Here; This Is Me Trying; Mirrorball;

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the fox

Chapter 14

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

"Good Evening Kim family." Dr Jin says as he looks up at you all over the chart in his hand.

"Hello, Jin." Jungkook practically giggles before Namjoon even has a chance to extend a greeting himself.

You all glance at the rabbit, bewildered by his sudden confidence.

"You seem to have some new additions with you today." The doctor comments, gesturing to Hobi and Tae in the corner.

"Friends joining us for the holiday." Namjoon fills in.

"Ah, of course, a wonderful time to spend with friends, although it's a shame you seem to have ended up here..."

Jin places the chart on the end of the bed and shoos Jungkook and Namjoon from Jimin's side to get a better look at Jimin's arm. The red panda is clutching it to his side with his good arm. The nurse gave him a painkiller, but it didn't do much for the odd angle it was stuck at.

"Do you not have plans for the holidays Doctor?" Jungkook asks peering over the man's shoulder.

"Me? No, I have the day off which is a blessing, but my plans are limited to dinner alone and a movie marathon." He shrugs. "Anyway, Jimin, I think you have definitely dislocated your shoulder, and there is potential for a fracture, I would like to get a better look with some x-rays. I'll have the nurse set up radiology for you and I'll be back."

He nods his head firmly and exits the room. Namjoon and Jungkook immediately take up positions next to the bed again. Jungkook nuzzles into Jimin's uninjured side while Namjoon pets Jimin's hair, careful to avoid all contact with the shoulder.

You sit across the room with Taehyung, Hoseok, and Yoongi. Yoongi uses his nervous energy by playing with Hoseok's hair, musing it up beyond easy repair. Taehyung looks far more upset than you would've thought possible for a near stranger. His leg jitters, knocking in to you in the cramped space.

"How are you doing Chim?" Namjoon asks.

"It hurts Joonie." Jimin pouts.

"Why would you hide so high up in a tree baby?" Namjoon pets him softly, trying not to sound accusatory.

"It worked didn't it?" Jimin laughs, the motion causing him to squeak in pain. "Someone distract me."

"How?" Yoongi asks, desperate to be helpful.

"Tell me a story, in fact, tell me my favourite story."

"That story? You've heard it a million times." Yoongi sighs, but a smile pulls at the edges of his lips.

"And I want to hear it at least a million more."

"What story?" You ask.

"The story of how I met Yoongi." Namjoon supplies.

"Okay, if that's what you really want, settle in." Yoongi begins

_______________

It was almost ten years ago now. On a dreary day, on a run-down campus, in a little town, not far from where they now called home. Yoongi had come to the music studios inside the university library to work on his latest composition for his final assessment. He already spent hours on the track and it seemed like he might still have hours more ahead of him.

He'd gone through countless coffees and instant noodles trying to keep himself isolated in the little room. He was practically pulling his hair out trying to understand why his bridge section wouldn't flow how he wanted it to into the chorus. Both sections were exactly what he wanted them to be and yet neither one fitted together in the way that he wanted them to. It was infuriating.

Eventually, he decided if he didn't remove himself from the room he was going to drive himself insane. He wandered through the stacks on one of the lesser-used floors, something about obscure medical studies. He was always alone when he walked this floor, but today it seemed someone else was around. He couldn't see them, but he could hear them, humming along to something. The sound was offkey and unfamiliar but the melody stuck with him.

He never found the source that day but it did give him the inspiration he needed to work out exactly what he was missing to connect his piece.

______

Namjoon had been studying hard in his first year of medical studies. No matter how hard he tried though the information just wouldn't stick. It wasn't that he wasn't smart enough, it was just that it was dull. He had tried many different ways to get himself to focus. He studied completely alone in the depths of medical journals at the library but his mind always wandered and he would end up writing stories or making up pointless songs. He tried working in groups with other students on his course, but they somehow made the content even less interesting. He even tried working amongst the other first years in the more populated areas but they were all too chatty, not really there to work.

He found his solace by accident. He was stumbling through the library looking for another place he could study when he stumbled into the music studios. Each one was locked but he could hear a song coming from one that left him mesmerised, he sat down outside of the door and finally managed to get some studying done. The repetition might have annoyed some people but he enjoyed the slight changes each time to track was replayed.

He returned to that studio for the next couple of days, sitting cross-legged outside the door with his notes splayed around him. A perfect setup, until one day when the composer came tumbling through the door tripping over his work.

"Wah, the fuck..." The stranger said as he stumbled.

"I'm so sorry," Namjoon said.

He rushed up to help the man balance and found himself getting lost in his eyes.

"You realise there is a whole library full of workbenches outside right?" The man asks annoyance evident in his features.

"I... I struggle to work out there." Namjoon rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

"So you are just perched outside of my studio?" Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

"The music sounded pretty..."

"You're a fresher, aren't you? I haven't seen you before" The annoyance slowly fades from the older man's face as he takes in Namjoon.

"Yeah, first-year medical." Namjoon confirms "I'm Namjoon."

The bear extends his hand and the musician takes it.

"Yoongi, senior in music production."

He isn't sure he would call it a friendship. More of a partnership from there on. Namjoon was invited inside the studio to sit in the corner so he could work and occasionally Yoongi would talk to him so he wouldn't go days without talking to another person again.

He told Namjoon how he had stolen part of the melody from someone humming on the upper level, Namjoon decided it best not to tell him that it was most likely his off-key attempt that Yoongi had heard (although he did find out shortly after his graduation).

They spent months together in that little box of a room, sharing parts of their days with one another as they worked on different assignments. They really didn't realise how close they'd become until it was a week before Yoongi's final submission and their time together was coming to an end.

Namjoon's heart grew heavy as Yoongi concluded that his work was complete, there was not another note that he could add that would make the slightest bit of difference to his grade. The senior ordered pizza and beer for them both to enjoy that night and instead of studying with minimal conversation, the two of them talked all night.

Yoongi shared his dream of wanting to produce music for the biggest stars, but he also wanted to produce an album just for himself, one where he would rap and sing, and maybe dance if he were brave enough.

Namjoon shared that he wasn't really sure medicine was for him. In fact, he was only going through the motions because his parents had thought it would be a good idea, he was so smart after all. He wanted to be a writer.

Yoongi had looked Namjoon right in his eyes, grabbed his shoulders, and told him that he should go after what he wanted, others be damned. He went on a monologue about others always putting people like them in a box and telling them what they could do and how they should act. He was so passionate in his delivery, so fired up that the passion was all that Namjoon could see on his face.

Yoongi was mere inches away from Namjoon's face when he finished, making one last comment about taking the things that were meant for you before anyone else tried to take them away. The younger man couldn't resist closing the gap and taking Yoongi's lips in his.

It was evident that the older man was startled, pulling back confused.

"What was that for?" He asked, blinking owlishly.

"Taking what was mine before it went away I guess?" Namjoon shrugged, although inside he felt like he was about to explode if this didn't go how he thought it would.

"I just meant you should change your major..."

"Oh, okay, yeah maybe I should..."

Yoongi fiddled with his hands, thinking through what to say next. Namjoon stuffed more pizza into his mouth. The silence grew quickly as they both awkwardly thought of how to pass by what just happened. Eventually, Yoongi swallowed his pride and spoke first.

"Namjoon?.."

"Uh-huh?"

"Do you really want me to be yours?" Yoongi doesn't look up from his hands.

"Yes, yes I do."

"Okay."

Namjoon studies the older man's face as he finally looks up to face him again. He looked unsure and insecure but resolute in his words. So Namjoon leant over and kissed him again, this time receiving a kiss in return and from that moment onwards they truly did belong to each other. And Namjoon changed his major the very next day.

________

"That might be the sweetest story I've ever heard." Doctor Jin says as he comes through the door breaking the silence in the room. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I didn't want to interrupt either, Jimin we are ready for you in radiology."

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[cleos-cafe]

⤜ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱɪʟᴠᴇʀ ᴘᴛ.2⤛

Hi! Welcome to whoever you are, I'm back from my break so I'll be posting more often, I hope you enjoy the second part of Silver's headcanons. -Sincerely with much love, Dahlia♡ pt. 1 | pt. 2 (you're here right now)

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Well, now that we have the basics of the relationship, why don't we get into the relationship itself?

Contrary to popular belief, I would think that Silver is quite painful with the first steps in the relationship.

At first it might be a little awkward, but eventually he relaxes back to the way he was when they were just friends.

Things don't seem to change that much at first glance, but after a while the details start to show.

For example, even though Silver is not protective or jealous, he always ended up escorting you to your classes, even if he was a little late for his. His purpose being "to get you to your classes safely", which you appreciate, although you keep repeating that it is not necessary (from Lilia you have learned that more than once he has been late for Crewel's classes).

You both ended up making a deal, he would escort you to classes as long as it's not so far away and in exchange you prepare something to eat for him once classes are over (I wouldn't be lying to you if I told you he's in love with your cooking [whether you cook well or not for him, anything tastes better than Lilia's cooking, sorry <3]).

Although thanks to the times he's stayed for lunch in your dorm you have company other than freshmen, which is comforting since you usually take naps with Silver

You have no idea how, but Silver somehow ended up becoming friends with Grim. It may be the fact that no matter what animal seems to be around him, he seems to be calm.

It has become a habit to see them both asleep under a tree or on a bench. Something for which you are thankful since it is one of the reasons why Grim has stopped getting into so much trouble.

Other than that, as mentioned before, Silver would go out of his way to help you in your classes, from spending hours in the library with various books to accompanying you on the broom.

It's probably normal for him to fall asleep between conversations, it's not like he does it on purpose, he can't help it </3

Anyway, he appreciates when you wake him up, he doesn't want to seem rude or anything so he's grateful when you wake him up and usually apologizes right away

I see him as completely canon the kisses to wake him up.

Possibly came as a conversation about one of the stories his father used to tell him, about how a princess was awakened with a kiss of true love

And as a joke you told him that if he didn't wake up you'd start kissing him to wake him up.

"Hmmm, now that you say it I don't think that's a bad idea…"

You were probably both extremely red after that, although you took the suggestion and neither of you have complained about it

At some point in the relationship she possibly reveals to you that Lilia is her father, which you suspected for a while, after all there were times when there were the three of you and she let slip the "father" one time or another

Once he tried to cut your hair with a sword, possibly one of the craziest things that ever happened to you.

Then he confessed that Lilia taught him how to do it and since then he cuts his hair like that (surprisingly I know).

Probably one of the most beautiful relationships there is, both protect each other equally and safely. He's always looking out for you in some way and it's adorable to see how both of you are so close, who knew that guy who used to sleep so much would end up getting entangled in someone's business and have something so nice blossom out of friendship?

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[barkspawn-says-mage-rights]

Oh Gray Warden.

DraxAna and Leliana have a moment to catch up in Skyhold's rookery.

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Leliana’s tower was a noisy place, full of the sounds of cawing ravens and echoed voices from the library down below and occasionally the far louder chatter of the main hall whenever the downstairs door was open.

Yet it was where Leliana had her altar to Andraste, where she prayed and sat in contemplation.

DraxAna watched quietly, she used to mock the spymaster about her religion, perhaps a bit too much in retrospect, but the chantry and the Dalish were not known for getting along, together they had found the urn of sacred ashes, the supposed remains of Andraste, Even DraxAna felt something otherworldly in that place, and she refused to taint them, she didn’t regret that, even if it meant fighting a entire cult.

At least they didn’t set the dragon on them.

“Maker, forgive them for their sins and welcome them at your side, know it was all for the greater good..”

Those words stood out, the idea of the greater good, in DraxAna’s opinion had never lead anywhere good, wasn’t that Loghain’s excuse for allowing Callian and the wardens to die at Ostogar?

Leliana had changed, she was colder than she used to be, didn’t smile as much and amongst all the scouting reports, books and ravens there wasn’t a single lute or instrument. 

The chantry sister she knew was always full of music, always had a smile on her face.

But then again, that had been a mask hadn’t it? She was hiding in the chantry to escape her abuser.

DraxAna had killed Marjolaine to protect her, and Leliana shed no tears over her former lover, that was a glimpse into the future, to the woman kneeling before her, this Leliana knew how to hide her emotions.

A decade had passed, neither of them were the same.

“I apologize…You came here to talk to me, not watch me pray.” Her voice was still as soft, but had matured “Is there anything particular you wished to speak about?”

“Just checking on you, as a friend, not The Warden-Commander.”

“The title suits you.”

DraxAna shrugged “I have had little choice…” She laughed, “That shall be the name of my life story.”

“Your life story has already been written by many.”

“Not all of it..Not one person has ever asked me about my childhood.” 

“I have heard a few stories that omit the part you’re even an elf.”

“Don’t let that happen to Lavellan…don’t let the stories erase her.”

“I shall try my best.”

“No, you promise me.”

Leliana looked surprised, her eyebrows raising ever so slightly.

“I promise you, DraxAna..”

“Thank you.” 

DraxAna walked towards the rookery’s outer door “Come, I bet there’s a gorgeous view from up here.”

“It is quite breathtaking.”

They both reached for the handle of the door, Leliana’s arm brushed against DraxAna’s, lifting the sleeve ever so slightly, revealing the blackened veins snaking their way up her forearm.

DraxAna pulled it back down before Leliana noticed, but it was too late, the nightingale see’s everything

“Draxie..”

“Its nothing.”

“Is it the taint?”

“There’s a reason you never see an old gray warden, you know that.”

“But its too soon..”

There was a hint of panic in Leliana’s voice, she cleared her throat

“Do you think Corypheus could be causing it?” Already she was back to her cold self.

“I doubt it, I caught the blight before becoming a warden, perhaps it's something to do with that.”

“You don’t seem very concerned.”

Then DraxAna was a better actress than she thought, she was terrified, half insane with despair at the idea of turning into a ghoul, of becoming like Tamlen.

“There’s a glowing hole in the fucking sky, Lel…I won’t die until I know its not going to destroy everything and everyone I love.” 

“Promise me.”

They met eyes and Leliana was a decade younger, the chantry sister who stepped in to stop a fight when she had no reason, who invited herself on a hopeless quest because the Maker had told her too.

“I promise.”

Leliana nodded, curt and quick, somehow DraxAna knew that not even death would touch her now.

The Sister’s arrows always hit their mark.

[etherati]

Taproot - (6/25)

So I guess Wednesdays just aren't a great day for this, so let's call it Thursday and Sunday, going forward! Also gonna start adding music recs for each chapter, but feel free to ignore if you feel like it would be too distracting. Will edit the old chapters to include them.

Content warnings: Canon-typical violence, Sypha and Alucard being on the cover of a romance novel, and a lot of vampires getting melted. HYDROSTORM!!!

🎵 Music pairing: Whatever It Takes - Imagine Dragons

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Solstice night. The longest night. The sun set hours ago, here on the coast of the Black Sea, tracking its way westward toward the foothills and the mountains beyond them and, eventually, all the rest of Europe. Toward home. 

Will it be dark there, yet? Will the wolves be closing in?

Sypha can’t justify hiding herself away as she waits, not tonight. The waiting has become a desperate vigil, something that recognizes its own futility but refuses to bend under the weight of that recognition. But tonight is important and if she is here, if she must still be here against all her wishes, she will at least be present for it.

She’s cleaved close to the people she cares most about all evening: her grandfather, Lily and Arn, Kiri, the others who kept her family group knit together when outside forces did their best to claw it apart, all those years ago. They eat, fresh bread from the cooking stones and warm rabbit stew, laced with exotic spices from all over their people’s collective range, little pops of heat and sweetness and green earthiness, peppery and rich. 

It’s a celebration meal. Tomorrow morning, the sun is reborn. She knows that isn’t how it really works—has seen the planetary models in the castle library, knows that the sun is a fixed point and certainly neither lives nor dies—but that’s never really been the point. It’s a midpoint, a way to mark time, and the lengthening days mean warmth and easier travel and eventually better food stores.

In front of her, the bonfire crackles, raging mindlessly, consuming its fuel, throwing embers; something about it steals the breath from her lungs for just a moment. It feels something like the weight of sudden, unbearable prophecy, but almost more primitive than that. Inescapable, not like fate is inescapable but like gravity is inescapable.

There’s a shimmering off to her side, and it draws her attention before she consciously acknowledges it. It’s like a heat mirage, rising from the road in midsummer, and it hangs human-sized in the air, obscuring everything behind it. Caught up as she is in the breathless oppression of the fire, it takes Sypha a moment to realize what she’s looking at.

The mirror.

It’s—it’s the mirror. They got the message, they—they’re alive, and they got her message, and this is her passage home— but—

“Sypha?” her grandfather says from her other side, settling one hand on her shoulder. “That is what you have been waiting for, no?”

“It is, but...” 

But something isn’t right. She squints into the shimmer, can make out the far wall of the study, but no one has come through to greet her. What if—what if her message fell into the wrong hands? What if this is a trick? What if—

Then, in the haze: a body flying past in flames, and a very familiar figure following after it, the brilliant glow of the chain whip’s weighted end tearing through the space ahead of him. A hoarse cry. Wood splintering, glass breaking. There’s a splash of blood across the far wall, vibrant and lurid, and was that there a second ago?

In any event: that answers that.

“Okay,” she says, shouldering the pack she hasn’t let out of her sight for days, bracing herself for whatever she finds on the other side. Her boys are in trouble; they need her. “I’m going.”

Her grandfather makes a nonverbal noise, like someone restraining themselves from saying what their heart most wants to express. It’s dangerous. Stay here. Stay safe with us.

“Good luck, my angel,” is all he actually says—or, if he says more, it’s lost to her as she leaps into the breach, sound and vision smearing, reality disappearing up itself in a twisting, sucking inversion that leaves her, momentarily, unsure that the physical world ever existed, that she ever, in fact, had a body—

—then suddenly she’s there, and the shift from quiet night spaces, the calm hiss and pop of the fire, to this cacophony—it sets Sypha’s every nerve on end, her entire body protesting everything about what just happened in waves of churning nausea. She fights it down. Not the time. Not the fucking time. 

Her pack hits the floor hard and she casts around, urgent, taking it all in.

There are at least eight… enemy combatants, in the study with them. They look like vampires but they’re acting more like mindless monsters, with none of the grace she’d seen in their combat against Dracula’s generals. No weapons. No subtlety. Just tooth and claw, and speed, and ferocity. Feral.

They’ve got Adrian cornered against the far bookshelf, swiping and charging from every angle. He has a bloody gash across his face, his hair stuck to the wound, ghoulish. His eyes are wild from the fight, nearly as wild as those surrounding him. He has his sword in hand—not in the air, not aiding him as she knows it can when he’s at his best, but simply slashing inelegantly at arm’s length, keeping the surrounding vampires at bay.

She visualizes a fireball between her fingers, wills it into existence—wastes no time thinking about why he’s having so much trouble, and sends it straight into the thickest knot of them. Demons might resist flame but vampires, she knows with certainty, burn. 

Two of them light up, screaming, filling the air with the acridness of burning flesh—then the Morning Star comes slashing through out of nowhere, ripping one of the feral vampires just about in half even as it embeds itself in the next one over, waves of energy rippling through it to blow the second one apart from the inside out. 

That’s four down. That’s good.

“The mirror!” Trevor shouts to Adrian, and she’s not sure he even knows she’s here yet, as preoccupied as he is with getting the mob off of Adrian. He swings the whip again, a good amount of its length coiled around his fist to shorten the throw in this confined space—lands only a glancing blow, enough to enrage but not really damage, an ugly welt burned across the vampire’s face.

It hisses, furious. Sypha readies another fireball, to back up the missed shot. Trevor smirks into the thing’s face, unaccountably smug.

“Oh, that hurt, didn’t it?” he snarls, swinging the bladed star almost lazily in between them. Taunting. Backing his way toward the door, the staircase leading down. “Come on, I’m a way more interesting target than prince prissy-hair, here.” 

Ah. He missed on purpose—he’s trying to goad them away from Adrian. And it’s working; they’re worked up, agitated, and maybe it’s the smell of Belmont blood so nearby, dripping from his hand where it clutches the whip’s handle, but they’re peeling away from Adrian, easing their predatory, monstrous way toward Trevor instead. 

That’s all the window Adrian needs—with a pained hiss, he phases through the gap they’ve cut for him, right to Sypha’s side. Turns to the mirror without a thought, hair hanging lank and bloodied in his face, red-stained claws working at the mirror’s surface. Working to shut it down, she realizes with a chill—to seal it, so that none of their attackers decides to go barreling through and have Speaker for dessert.  

A lot of things happen all at once, then. 

Trevor doesn’t have a straight shot to the door—there’s one coming up behind him, cutting that path off, and with a shout, Sypha sends the fireball she’s been holding straight into its face. It catches fire, screams and flails, is easy for Trevor to sweep aside and get past, but there are suddenly more of them in the room than there had been and oh, they’re coming through the windows. Right through what should have been impenetrable wards.

Adrian seals the mirror, the Speaker camp fading from the glass. He turns to her, as if he’s just now noticing she’s there. A shrieking, wild-eyed vampire drops from the window behind them, and before she can even summon more flame, the sword in Adrian’s hand has whipped out and cleaved it cleanly in two.

“Sypha,” he breathes, staring; he didn’t even take his eyes off her to make the strike. They’re wide, wild with red, desperate and longing—and before she knows what’s happening he’s sweeping her up with an arm around her waist, pulling her into a kiss that is nothing short of ravenous. He doesn’t even try to be gentle, as he usually is with her; it’s all teeth and  possession, a primal sort of hunger that seeks to pleasure but also to claim, to make her moan and make her bleed, to turn her world inside out. 

It is, frankly, a fantastic kiss.

But it goes on just a touch too long, in the circumstances—they surely paint an attractive picture, Adrian with his bloody sword held aloft, Sypha with her hands ringed in fire, the two of them locked in the impassioned embrace of lovers too long separated. But they are being just a little bit invaded by vampires, and that fact demands attention, demands focus.

“Okay,” she says against his mouth, putting her hands flat to his chest and pushing; he’s immovable when he wants to be, but he’s learned these cues and he bends to it now, letting her put space between them. “Kill vampires now. Continue that later?”

A flash in his eyes, a sharp-toothed grin, and he swings back into action—maybe not as graceful as he usually is, maybe a little rushed, but no less lethal with that blade, now that he’s out from being cornered.

When she looks, she realizes that Trevor’s gone, off down the staircase already, most of the remaining vampires on his tail, and it’s the effort of a mere thought to fill that corridor with flame, purge the creatures in pursuit of their hunter, give them nothing but embers and ash to pass through to find their way back to his side.

“How the fuck are they getting through the wards?” Trevor mutters; he doesn’t expect an answer, is too busy dodging a wild, animalistic swipe of claws through the space his face had just been in, moments before. He catches the arm on its way by, lets the beast’s momentum carry it face-first into the stone of the staircase wall, taking advantage of it being momentarily stunned stupid to slam a throwing knife through its throat. The body tumbles down the stairs, out of sight.

“They’re old,” Adrian says from beside him, his presence crowding in on Trevor’s, which is comforting enough when he’d thought himself alone, but then—

“They’re not that old,” a familiar voice, one he hasn’t heard in two weeks, sharp and a little flustered and no wonder, dropping into the middle of an assault with no warning.

“Sypha,” he says, sheer relief, and before she can go on a tirade about the fact that wards don’t work that way, they don’t just turn off when they age, something else is going on and he knows, he knows—he reaches out and pulls her in by the back of her neck, presses a quick kiss to her temple, breathes her in. It’s the contact of an instant but in that instant: soft curl of hair against his cheek, smell of salt air and wood smoke, magic shimmering beneath his lips like a second skin.

“I missed you too,” she says, smirking a little as he breaks away, leans to peer around the archway. “But Adrian has your greeting beaten by a mile.”

“Yeah, well,” Trevor says, no patience for mincing words. “That’s because apparently the solstice makes vampires go feral, and in his special case that translates to ‘horny as fuck’.”

“Trevor…” Adrian growls, warning.

“Really?” Sypha asks, something in the tone saying that she already believes him. Trevor spares half a second to wonder what he missed, bailing out of the study like he did. 

“Oh yeah,” he says, hooking the chain whip back to his belt, reaching to unsheathe the sword instead. The staircase is narrow and winding, and anything coming up it to meet them will be in close quarters before they can blink. He edges down the stairs, one at a time, hyperfocused on the space in front of them. “Shame we’re being invaded, this could have been a really fun night.”

“Belmont.”

Sypha laughs, all nerves, magic crackling around her. “You would have had me miss that?”

“Oh my God, no,” Trevor says, grinning despite himself, despite the situation. Suddenly, everything feels right again; it feels like things can be okay, if they just hold onto their wits and see this through, try not to get sloppy. “You’d have to be here, or he’d wear me the fuck out.”

“If we are quite done discussing this,” Adrian says from behind them, glower audible in his voice; when Trevor risks a glance up and behind at him, he can see that the gash on his face is nearly closed, that his eyes are still bright with blood but not like they’d been before. There’s a focus there now, a clarity, that he’d lacked. Good enough. “Can we consider having an actual plan?”

“What,” Trevor says, “and ruin our perfect record of jumping into things blind and pulling off stunning victories regardless?”

“They haven’t all been stunning.”

“But they have all been victories.”

“Yes, yes,” Sypha cuts in, already sounding exasperated. “Recklessness is very dashing, until it isn’t anymore.”

And Trevor’s about to say something smartarsed in return, then stops himself, wonders for a moment if all this solstice madness is catching, because of course she’s completely, totally right. “Fine, okay. Got any ideas?”

“What do they want?” Sypha asks, voice low. 

Trevor jerks his thumb over his shoulder at Adrian, self-explanatory. “Single-minded, too. Took a lot to get them to go after me instead.”

“I saw some of that,” she says, considering. “So should we hide him, or…?”

Adrian grumbles something disagreeable; Trevor ignores him. “What I want to do is hide him under a rock somewhere, yeah.” That’s what his gut wants, what his heart wants. The screams echoing through the stone walls, vampires breaching their defenses anywhere there’s a window, are a solid reminder of why he needs to listen to his head instead, right now. “What would be smart to do is use him to lure them out into the open and take them all out at once.”

“Can you do that?”

Right, she isn’t up to date on all of their preparations yet. He scrapes the sword lightly against the stone as they descend, hoping to draw out anything that’s waiting for them around the next turn. “If you’re okay with no hot baths for a while.” 

“That was supposed to be an option of last resort,” Adrian protests vaguely. 

“Yeah, well, that was when we thought we had control over their points of entry and assumed we could bottleneck them,” Trevor says, and he can hear the irritation in his own voice. “Some of the variables have shifted. Besides, we hide you away, all that’s going to do is drive them into every nook and cranny in this place looking for you. It’ll take weeks to root them all out.”

“I’m not in favor of hiding—”

“All right, then,” Trevor whispers, drawing to a halt; up around the next bend, the light’s different, brighter. Intersection? Open landing? He almost never takes this staircase. “Do you have another suggestion?”

“We go down to the hall and we fight,” Adrian grits out, still sounding a little breathy, a little wild. “Keep the water as a backup plan, but try to fight them off first.”

Trevor shakes his head, sighs in frustration. “That could rack up casualties. Who’s being reckless now?”

Just a low growl in response, and okay, frustration is no longer the word; Trevor has officially fucking had it with this.

“No,” he says, turning to take hold of the collar of Adrian’s jacket; he tosses Sypha a look that he hopes conveys Cover the stairwell for me while I talk some sense into this idiot. Bright orange lights up between them all as she primes a spell. “You don’t just growl and get your way, that isn’t how this works.”

That seems to shake him—the snarling, bloodstained visage collapses into a mask of shame, flush rising up his face. “I wasn’t trying to threaten—”

“Listen to me, Adrian,” Trevor interrupts, because good God do they not have time for a guilt spiral. “You’re not thinking clearly right now. You’re spoiling for a fight and I get it, okay? I do. But a fight will get people killed. It could get one of us killed. And normally we wouldn’t have a choice but to risk it, but we’re in a crazy position right now—we have a way to take out all of them with minimal casualties, and it would be beyond insane not to use it.”

A huff of breath, defiant. “You don’t have to—they only want me.”

“Yeah, they do. They want you dead, and they want it bad, and they’re not going to have a, a civilized duel with you following the rules of engagement, all right?” Not that the dhampir could even handle that, right now, but Trevor’s not going to push his luck by provoking ego. “Adrian. I need you to trust me, I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“We have talked about this,” Sypha adds, not looking up from where she’s sighting down the length of her arm, flame at the ready. “We trust each other, and we work together.”

Something about the sound of her voice, so familiar and so painfully absent for the last two weeks, seems to get through to Adrian where his own words have failed—she plucks a chord in him, or maybe just completes one, the dissonance of two notes rounding out into three, and it’s like watching a sleepwalker come back to themselves.

“Of course,” Adrian says, finally, reaching to sheathe his mother’s bloodied sword; in this close, tight corridor it would be next to useless anyway. He draws the knife from his other hip, settles it comfortably in his hand. “Lead the way.”

Isabel had not been lying when she told the Belmont: she is no commander of soldiers. She had still hoped that, crazed as their attackers are tonight, her thoughtful leadership and the Belmont’s tactical prowess would give them enough of an edge to keep the enemy forces from breaching the castle.

Hope, it turns out, while not completely useless, does not win battles. 

She’s out here with her four ranged comrades, and Belmont had brought them an entire crate of bolts from who knows where; they’re not in danger of running out. But they’re also making little headway. Have they managed to thin the attacking mob? Yes. Have they eliminated it? Not by a long shot. A bigger force than they expected, maybe, but four marksmen just aren’t enough.

So. Fine. There are other ways to go about this.

The crossbow bolts are still whizzing dangerously close as she darts out of cover, gets a running leap off of the stone banister, jumps directly into the fray. The bodies are thickest where the massive doors have started to bow inward, the insane strength of those bodies undirected except for the most basic drive: break down the doors, get into the castle. 

She lands among them, claws three of their throats out before they even register her presence. It’s easy to duck and weave among them, their reflexes dulled by bloodlust and unused to seeing their own kind as an enemy, and so she tries to carve the still-beating heart of the mob out of its chest, winnows and thins them from within.

A crossbow bolt plants itself into a vampire’s eye socket, less than a foot from her own. The sound of metal striking dense, heavy bone echoes in her ears, as does the screaming that follows. In the single moment’s disorientation, she catches a set of claws across her face, splitting her cheek open down to the bone, and without a second thought she takes hold of the arm that did it, snaps it in two, reels the attacker in and drives her own claws into his throat.

And if this is all she can do now, be a whirlwind of claws that rends apart her own people, the ones who would ruin everything she and hers have fought for—so be it. Her people have their orders; they know what they need to be doing. If she falls here, they will fight on.

There’s a horrible screaming of metal, mechanisms twisting under strain, and the doors begin to give way.

The sudden noise of the door mechanisms failing and the roaring of their invaders is jarring, harrowing, after so much silence and so much waiting. They’ve heard screams elsewhere in the castle, echoing in that labyrinthine way that teases and taunts but is impossible to ever actually track down—and they’ve stayed put, because they are those doors’ last line of defense.

Now, as the doors give way, the attackers start spilling in as soon as there’s a gap wide enough to pass a body through—climbing over one another, fighting each other to get in, some of them already bloodied, some of them injured and healing in front of their eyes. All of them mad.

On the upper landing, at the top of the stairs, Jeanne resettles her grip on her short sword, squares her stance. She stands among humans, but she is no stranger to fighting vampires; they’re always curious about her, always wanting to see how her strength holds up to theirs, how her relative lack of weaknesses will play out in a fight. She is no stranger to sparring with vampires, or with having to forcefully turn away troublemakers at her people’s gates. She has never killed one, never wanted to kill anyone, does not truly believe herself capable of facing an intelligent being and taking its life.

These, though?

These are horrifying. These aren’t people. They’re animals, monsters, slavering beasts. And they were human once—something even she cannot claim—but right now, they are just fodder for her sword and her claws, fodder for the blades and spears of the five who stand around her.  

Tomorrow, they might be different. The morning may find their sanity restored. 

Guilt can, also, come in the morning. Right now, she has a job to do.

Luca Gregori considers himself a patient man. He is practiced in all forms of acceptance, these days; he is not quick to judge. Alucard of Wallachia, infamously opposed to killing, killed his own father? He clearly had a good reason. The Belmont is more than just a general, to his Lord? The stuff of crazy gossip, maybe, but to him it’s not even worth a second thought. That vampires are not just monsters, that they are as unique as the   humans they once were and as individually responsible for their choices as anyone else—this is a foregone conclusion for him, these days. But it is perhaps for the best that he has never, before now, gone abroad on this night, because this horrorscape is enough to sour anyone on the night world.

He’s bleeding from his shoulder, where one of the beasts got their claws into him. It’s his off arm, so it’s not impeding the swing of his grandfather’s blade, but it throbs and aches and he knows it’s going to draw more of them, and the whole point of being here is to get inside and let the others know that things are going to hell—but they’re going to hell so quickly that it’s all he can do to keep fighting them off, keep the entrance he’s guarding protected.

A pause in the onslaught—a chance to draw breath, halting and rough—then another is there, is leaping clear over him, alighting on the wall above his head, clearly more interested in the window above than in tangling with him directly.

Too bad. The sword becomes a projectile, spearing the intruder through the chest as if they’re made of no more than paper; all that sharpening had a purpose. The vampire tumbles, sword and all, to his feet. Goes still.

Luca doesn’t hesitate—he pulls the blade free, brings it up as he spins back toward the open grounds, anticipating another attack.

Another attack doesn’t come.

The night isn’t silent, not remotely—but the commotion seems, suddenly, to be elsewhere. He can hear a ruckus from around the corner of the castle wall, where the main entrance sits, and he supposes that the defenses there might be falling. He considers the tactical implications of abandoning his post and offering aid.

Then, from the corner of his eye: a flicker of light, in the ruins of the old, burned out estate.

From the moment his eyes met Sypha’s in the study, from the moment he held her against him and felt her pulse racing and the heat of the fire in her hands and the determination she held in her heart to save them, to save both of them—

Adrian isn’t sure how to explain it. It feels like something that’d been swirling, dangerous and intoxicating, through his brain and his gut has, somehow, settled. It’s still there, glinting in the sediment like gold dust, begging to be stirred back up, tempting the swipe of a lazy, greedy hand. But the water between them is finally clear.

He wonders: how much of this is the blood, how much Trevor’s proximity, how much the primal desperation of longing for an absent lover?

They encounter few opponents on their descent. One of them Sypha impales with a long, deadly spear of ice, one Trevor neatly beheads, and the third falls under the bite of the traitorous blade in Adrian’s hand, screaming and bleeding. And perhaps it is too agonizing a death to inflict on anyone—but they ought not have attacked him and his loved ones, then.

He remembers Trevor saying it, in the field outside the castle: If you even breathe threateningly at me or mine—

This isn’t vengeance, he knows, shaking the blood from the blade and continuing onward. It is self-defense, defense of his home. Defense of their life, of the way they’ve chosen to live, and damn anyone who thinks they have any right to punish him for it.

When they finally reach the entry hall, when his boots land in exactly the sort of bloodstain he had hoped his new carpets would never see, the scene is utter chaos—and not all that dissimilar to the scene they themselves had broken up when they strode in that front entrance a year ago. A home under assault. Those loyal to its master standing in its defense. 

This time, though, the fighting doesn’t pull to an awed standstill when they enter the room—not that any of them expect it to.

Still, Trevor swears, low. He’d obviously been hoping the doors hadn’t failed yet, that this could be done cleanly. Now, there will have to be a fight, which means there will be losses. Scanning around, Adrian can tell that most of the unmoving bodies scattered about belong to their enemies, ragged-looking in a way that none of Isabel’s people had been, but there is a downed human among them, moaning and clutching his middle and probably not long for the world.

“Have any gotten past you?” Trevor shouts to the small knot of fighters holding the upper landing against the assault. This room was designed to be a funnel, to be easily defensible from this spot, and Trevor had been wise to only station their defenses here, rather than wasting them elsewhere in the hall. If his father’s generals had been half as savvy, the three of them would have had a much harder time taking that first victory. “Into the rest of the castle?”

“No,” a young woman snarls back, blood in her short dark hair, fangs flashing. “They’d have to kill us all first.” She brings her sword around in an elegant arc, takes her attacker’s hands clean off, then lodges the blade deep into the vampire’s ribcage to finish him off. She’s untrained—that much is obvious from the way she handles the blade like an edge and like a point alternately, depending on what she needs, but she’s fast and fluid and far stronger than any of her compatriots, and has a natural fighter’s instincts.

It makes complete sense, given that she’s Isabel’s resident dhampir. Something he’s been asked to accept in passing, as if it were a common thing. As if he’d met another in his life, ever.

Adrian’s self control is already worn to a thin patch, barely there, threadbare. It takes a monumental act of restraint to not just snatch this one up mid-battle and hide her away somewhere safe, if only to be sure she’ll live long enough to speak with him. Because as solid a fighter as she is, she’s getting overwhelmed.

He can’t do that, can’t deprive the battle of her strength. But there are other ways he can help her odds of survival.

“Belmont,” he says, reverting smoothly to formality. He draws his sword again, readies both blades. “Can you handle the water?”

“Can you get those doors closed?” Trevor counters, changing his sword out for his whip, the links clinking at the movement. On the other end of the long hall, the doors are gaping open to the night, their mechanisms stripped and ruined; there’s no one coming through them, which is a pretty good sign that they’re all already in here. Trevor sends the weighted end of the whip whispering through the air, taking his targets out with terrifying precision. “If this is going to be a killing pen,” he grunts between throws, “then we really need to close the gate.”

“I can do it,” Sypha says, looking between them, her gaze settling on Adrian, and it’s like she can see straight through him, right to the core of his anguish. “Go help them, I will handle it.”

There’s a suspended moment there—they are three again, they are together, they are within touching distance and are within each other’s grasp—and then Sypha leans in and embraces them both, quick and hard. 

And then she is, again, gone—headed down the stairs to traverse the sea of bodies that the entry hall has become, dodging and weaving around swords and claws and worse, angling to get closer to the entryway. 

Adrian watches her, watches the fluidity of her movements, the way she skirts danger so effortlessly—then her hands go into the air above her head and a gust of wind kicks up, forceful. The doors slam shut with a resonant thud.

All that’s left to do, then, is give Trevor a significant nod, the man’s hand tightening on his shoulder before letting him go— and dive into the fight.

Trevor doesn’t know exactly what Sypha had done to seal the doors, once she’d closed them. It’d apparently involved melting the moving parts and rendering them useless as doors, because she claims, in clipped shouts over the roar of fire, that they cannot be opened again now.

Which—shit. It shouldn’t have mattered, he’d all but demanded they be closed, but—

There’s a panel set into the wall here, under his hand, modeled to look like just another stone; beneath it, something Adrian connected up to the same magical—sorry, science—bullshit that lights the torches by themselves. When he presses it, it will cause an ember of flame to burn something, something that very much likes to burn, that likes it so much that it tends to explode; the pressure will tear apart the pipes running through the castle, to a lesser degree the further away it gets. But here in the main hall, it will be a downpour.

There’s a panel under his hand, and when he presses it, holy water will pour down like rain and it will melt away every vampire in the entry hall like the last grey, gritty snow of spring.

There’s also a vampire staring across at him, black braids disheveled and tattered, blood streaked across her face, fierce determination burning in the burgundy eyes. Fucking Isabel. She shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t have followed the attackers inside, the fucking idiot; this is why the status of the doors is, suddenly, important. “Why are you—I told you not to be here, we have   to—”

“Do what you need to, Belmont,” she interrupts, steely, eyes only for the fight. “I was warned; I made my choice. I won’t have any of my people die because you dragged this out for my sake.”

“Fuck,” Trevor says, and then, because once is rarely enough: “Fuck.”

“It’s been an honor,” she says, ignoring his invectives, holding a clawed, bloody hand out expectantly.

And for just a second, Trevor just looks at it—looks back up at the landing, where her people are weakening, becoming overwhelmed, even with Adrian’s help. Looks to Sypha, summoning ice and fire, holding her own effortlessly for the moment but how long can that last?

An honor, she says. And against his best efforts, it has been.

He can’t wait. He knows that. This is their one chance to keep the casualties in their favor, and the window is narrowing. 

His hand rests on the panel. Just another ounce of pressure.

Sypha, twenty feet away, spinning solidity from the moisture in the very air, projectiles that pierce like steel, barriers that protect her like any shield... 

Trevor narrows his eyes.

“Fuck that,” he says, smacking Isabel’s hand aside, everything coming together. “Sypha! Need some ice over here now.”

“On it!” she shouts back, and it’s like she’s been listening

in and already knows what he’s asking for—the ice blooms from the air, swirling around Isabel, enclosing her within its walls like something caught in a glass bottle. Trevor finds himself, as always, impressed with both Sypha’s talents and her perceptiveness, with her almost preternatural way of knowing exactly what they need when, in any fight, in any challenge. How did they ever survive two weeks without her?

He slams the panel hard.

A half second of held breath, a building roar, and then: the rains come.

Sypha thinks, in the split second she has to spare between one task and the next, that she should get a medal for figuring things out, after this fight is over. 

It’s not as if they’d had much time to explain things to her—between the need for vigilance on the staircase and the need to split up down here in the hall, all she’d managed to pick up was that they have some new allies fighting with them, and that Trevor’d had some sort of plan involving a mass dousing. Putting it all together, well—she’s just that good.

“I guess that’s that for this group,” Trevor says, shaking the water from his sleeves, wringing it out of his hair with an antsy urgency. The downpour hadn’t lasted long—a tremendous amount of water, but whatever they did to open the pipes, it had been incredibly effective. Possibly overkill. Definitely overkill in terms of their attackers, and someone with a weaker stomach would probably be turning green by now, overwhelmed by all the strangled screaming and the smell of charred flesh, bodies consumed in blue flame, ashes floating down all around them.

Sypha’s never had a particularly weak stomach. She’s seen worse; she’s done worse.

So, left standing: The three of them, and their human allies up on the landing, and the vampire Trevor had had her lock into ice—the only one of them all not sopping wet from head to toe, and thankfully so, if she’s really on their side. 

“God, that feels fucking weird,” Trevor complains under his breath and to no one in particular, shaking a foot as if that will somehow empty his boots of the water she can hear sloshing in his socks.

Adrian raises an eyebrow at Trevor from the landing, sheathing his sword, his knife. He looks like a very blonde drowned rat, and he’s just as antsy, like he’s been wrapped entirely in itchy wool. And that’s no surprise from him, in the circumstances, but— 

“Does it?” Adrian asks, keenly curious. Sypha narrows her eyes at both of them, wonders if maybe there’s something else in the water, some irritant or chemical that she’s just not feeling yet.

But Trevor just shakes his head dismissively. “Not the time,” he grumbles, reaching for the whip at his side, suddenly all business. “There might be more of them further up in the castle, we can’t let our guard down.”

“Then let me eliminate a distraction,” Sypha offers, pressing her hands together in front of her face. This is not her specialty, so she will have to focus, but it will do no good to have saved their ally only to have her burned by the floor they stand on—and regardless of Trevor’s grousing, Adrian is, she’s sure, legitimately uncomfortable. She summons a gust of air that rises from the space around her, a concentrated blast of dry wind that ripples through her robes, through her hair, stripping the moisture right off of her. 

Once she feels her own hair brushing dry against the nape of her neck, she sends the wind outward, swirling through the hall like a cyclone, pulling the water from skin and hair and clothes, from carpets and tapestries, and carrying it all up and away.

Well. Not away. It has to go somewhere, but she’ll cross that bridge later. 

“Better?” she asks.

Adrian shakes his hair out like the mane of some legendary beast. It’s still got that humidity dampness to it, that extra fluffiness, but it’s an improvement. “Much. Thank you.”

And she’s just about to go start melting their visitor out of her ice cage—she’ll need to get the story from Trevor later, of how exactly a vampire, not a dhampir but a full-blooded vampire, managed to earn such loyalty from him—when a man she’s never seen before suddenly appears through one of the side doors, right behind Trevor, wheezing and out of breath from running. The sword in his hand is coated in dark, stale-looking blood. 

“Trevor!” she shouts, bringing up a fresh fireball, but when Trevor spins to face the intruder, his stance immediately relaxes, hand leaving the hilt of his sword. 

“It’s all right,” he says, one hand out to her to say, stand down. “He’s one of ours. Gregori? What’s going on?”

“It’s—” Wheeze, cough. “They’re—”

“They’re what?” Trevor demands, patience thin.

A prolonged, whistling inhale, desperate for air, and then the man visibly makes an effort to compose himself, to regulate his breathing. “They’re gathered in the ruins,” he manages, then takes a deliberate breath. “Talking about a vault or something. That they’re going to get a weapon that will make them unbeat-able? That’s all I got—I couldn’t keep listening, they would have spotted me—”

“Fuck,” Trevor breathes, glancing at the doors, and Sypha knows: the hold.

“Wait,” Adrian says, holding up a hand, forestalling     Trevor’s obvious kneejerk reaction of running off to defend his family’s legacy without a moment’s thought. “They should have spotted you regardless. Or smelled you. And they acted as if they didn’t?”

“Actually, yeah,” Trevor says, narrowing his eyes at Gregori. “That sounds a little bit like bullshit. Is it bullshit, or is there something else going on?”

“I saw what I saw,” the man says, puffing up in defense of his assaulted pride. “I can’t explain it, but I’m not lying to you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Trevor murmurs, after a long, considered study of the man’s face. He presses one hand across his eyes, gestures with the other. “Maybe he’s lying to get us there, or maybe they let him get away so he’d bring this information to us, which is also a ploy to get us there.”

“It is a trap either way.” 

“Or they just want us to leave the castle undefended.”

Sypha sighs, fingers twitching restlessly around her magic, half-sigils that she’d trained into muscle memory to avoid accidentally conjuring fire when she’s restless. “But we can’t leave it alone, can we?”

Trevor just shakes his head. “Okay,” he says, after a thoughtful moment. “Sypha, get our frozen bloodsucker off ice. Jeanne?”

A dark-haired young woman turns at the summons, hands braced on the landing’s banister, paying perfect attention. There’s a stillness to her that’s a little unnerving to Sypha, almost like...

“They’re not getting in the front,” Trevor says, clipped, as Sypha carefully directs her fire, melting away the walls of the impromptu ice shelter. “If they come from anywhere it’ll be those little doors on the side there. You think your people can handle that?”

Jeanne looks to the newly freed Isabel, who despite seeming a little dazed, nods sharply. 

“All right,” Trevor says, sounding like a man who has no idea if he’s doing the right thing, is doing it anyway and damn the consequences.  “Good enough. Let’s go.”

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