#fic: Tales from the Grove of Secrets | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deny-the-issue · 1 month

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Love Thy Nature

Summary: Set in the "Baldur's Gate 3" epic tale, you struggle with ongoing body image issues while pining after Halsin, hoping to earn a special place in his heart.

Thank you so much to my lovely beta readers @juniper-sunny and @sirenofzaun <3

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Thank you everyone for the overwhelming amount of interest in this fic! I hope you all enjoy <3

[MDNI] [Halsin x fat!Reader] [no mention of gender pronouns] [reader has vulva/breasts] [body image issues] [whatever height you are, Halsin is taller] [whatever weight you are, Halsin can lift you] [smut] [fluff] [angst] [happy ending] [oral sex] [vaginal sex] [teasing] [5580 words]

Chaos. Those first few hours were absolute chaos. In Baldur’s Gate shopping for vegetables one moment, infested with a slimy tadpole the next. At least you aren’t alone.

Even if they intimidate you.

You all have a common goal, and you wear this safety like a blanket. With companions like these, maybe you’ll have a chance to live. If you don’t get caught in between Shadowheart and Lae’zel, that is.

Stomach rumbling, feet aching, thighs raw, the nights end with you silently crying yourself to sleep. You are distinctly unsuited for this life. The others say nothing, but you feel like you’re letting them down when you lag behind them during the day’s journey. You simply cannot keep up with Karlach and Lae’zel’s pace, and with the dismal amount of food for dinner, you’re starving.

You’re not the only hungry one, but you are the only one that eats away from the fire, in solitude. Even in the city you preferred to eat alone. Judging eyes haunt your every bite, but you know the shame comes from within. You know you have no right to complain about being hungry when you have the most weight to lose.

So you suffer in silence.

Your armor consists of ill-fitting cloth and leather which you have to repair frequently. The cloth is thin and your thighs can rub it away to nothing within a single, travel-heavy day. The others have found armor that suits them quite well, and you’re happy for them. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t envious of the ease at which they can find things that fit.

It’s hard not to dwell on your size. How it would be easier to find armor if you were skinnier. How much easier it would be to keep up. How much more confident you would be.

You see your travel companions flirt and cast lewd looks at each other. It lightens the heart to see, yet stirs a deep yearning within that has been your constant bane over the years. To love is something you have known many times, but to be loved is another story entirely. Truly loved for everything you are, inside and out. It seems impossible to behold when you cannot fathom loving yourself in that way.

Maybe one of them would have given you a chance, if only you had the confidence to try.

As the days go on, you learn more about each other, some willingly and others forced. Just when you think no one else is hiding something, another secret arises. Every single one of them has enough problems without the threat of becoming illithid, and you start to see the people underneath the mask of intimidation you assigned to them.

Despite your best efforts to keep your distance, they start to grow on you. Their troubles become yours, and a warm feeling of belonging takes root in your chest.

The grove is a delightful little community. Their harmony with nature is beautiful, your curious eyes take in every part and crevice.

Maybe too curious, since you had a near scrape with the guards due to the little shit, Mol. She’s too smart for her own good–trouble will surely follow her wherever she goes.

Just as it does you.

Just as it does him, too, apparently. Breaking a bear out of a dungeon is a first for you, but watching that bear transform into the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen becomes a keystone memory.

Already you are filled with conflicted feelings, more thankful everyday this horrible thing happened to you because it brought you to them. All of them brilliant, all of them flawed, and all incredibly beautiful.

You cling to the hope of his companionship as you prepare to protect the grove. Halsin’s knowledge instills fear in your bones, more defined than it was before. Now you have an idea of what you’re up against, and it’s all much bigger than you can fathom. Getting to know him personally casts away the worrisome thoughts; his words a honey-sweet distraction to the storm clouds gathering overhead.

You leave his company with a smile straining your face, but it doesn’t take long for the bite of loneliness to nip at your heels. Halsin’s answer about lovers echoes through your mind, a deep spiral into well-trodden waters.

“Right now? I bed down alone, I’m afraid. Perhaps once I talk less of curses and parasites, my fortunes will improve.”

How foolish of you to think he might warm to you. You’re sure his fortunes will improve, only with someone else. Someone more deserving of him.

These depressing thoughts do not stop you from befriending him. Quite the opposite, in fact. By casting aside your hopes for romantic love, you feel as though you can finally start to be yourself in camp.

And you’re surprised to find they like you. Your spirit and sense of humor return to you in troves–making some poor sod kneel for Lae’zel has everyone laughing at camp that night.

Yet you still make off alone with your bowl of stew when dinner is served, until a large obstacle blocks your path.

“I do not pretend to know why you dine alone, but you are most welcome to join us.” Halsin smiles kindly.

“I know, it’s ok. Thank you, though,” you try to dismiss him, but he doubles down.

“Do you not find our company agreeable?”

“No! I mean, yes? You’re lovely–you’re all lovely,”you stammer, heat rising to your face.

“Good, then you’ll have no problem joining us,” Halsin’s eyes sparkle with amusement, no doubt from watching your mind implode.

The prospect shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is, yet you cannot help but feel extremely uncomfortable.

You beat down the slight panic and return Halsin’s smile, unwilling to argue your case further. What would you even say? Laying your insecurities bare to a man you just met is not on your agenda for the night.

His large hand touches your shoulder as he makes his way to the fire, confident you’ll join him. So warm and rough with callouses–the contact lasted but a moment but you can feel it still, like an invisible badge of affection.

“Come on, Soldier, grab a stump! I already picked the slugs off for you.” Karlach laughs at your grimace.

“Thanks,” you walk over to the offered seat. “I’ve had enough slimy things for a lifetime.”

A chorus of agreement and various stages of grief crosses the face of each companion as you join them around the fire, a part of the pack for once. As much as you begrudge Halsin for pulling you out of your comfort zone, you never spend another night eating alone, and your heart is all the fuller for it.

The battle for the grove was hard won, and the celebration that followed was a well-needed respite for everyone. Surrounded by friends, plenty of food, and drink, you felt more alive than you had since it all began. Whatever shame you were harboring faded away with the alcohol settling into your rosy cheeks, and you sought out the man you’ve been pining for.

Weeks of hard living have left you as lightweight as Halsin claims to be, but the confidence to mingle in his company is a welcome boon. Oh, to see him tipsy–better still if you are the first person he sees. Is he handsy in his affections, or reserved, you wonder?

But what does he mean by calling you resourceful?

You’ll have to ponder its meaning after some sobering sleep. Nothing could sway your mood tonight. He may have turned you down, but he was surely flirting with you. Even with the short time you’ve known him, you know he is not the kind to lead anyone on.

Enjoyable. A night with you would be enjoyable; the thought has you grinning for the rest of the celebration, and biting your lip later, when you’re alone in your tent with roaming, lusty hands.

You’re able to find suitable food, but with life’s ever-increasing hardships, it continues to take a toll on your body. Hiking is not as hard as it once was, though, and you are thankful for it. With a body such as yours, it would take a considerable amount of time before you’d be deemed ‘thin’, but the loss of weight is undeniable.

Your clothes are loose, for one, and the little armor you have shifts uncomfortably, always needing adjusting. The others have started noticing as well.

Karlach gave you a, “Lookin’ good, soldier!” the other night and you never wished to cast an invisibility spell so much as in that moment.

This slightly-slimmer body should make you happy, but the success is tainted in your mind. It’s not as if you chose to lose weight, to starve, to walk endlessly every damned day. What happens when– if-- you can live a normal life after this? The same mistakes will surely be made as before, and you’ll go right back to the size you so hate. No lesson has been learned here, not in regards to food.

Even if you do somehow lose all this weight, you still will not be pleased with yourself. Stretch marks and loose skin, you could never look the way you want to.

The frustration grinds your spirit down, but no one notices. Hells, you hardly notice. The Shadowlands dampen the mood of everyone, infecting the camp even without touching it.

Fighting has never been easy for you, and you’ve managed to hold your ground so far. But every person’s luck runs out sometime, you suppose. One awkward move and you get a knife in your side. The armor should have protected you–would have–if only it fit you better.

Halsin gathers you in his arms, carrying you despite your weight. A mad rush back to the Last Light inn saves your life. As you’re placed in a healing sleep, you hear echoes of Halsin’s soothing voice. You can never make out the words, but they calm your turbulent mind, keeping the nightmares at bay.

When you wake, you are mostly healed. The skin is healed, though a scar remains, and the pain is manageable while lying still in bed. Halsin greets you with warmth and a small amount of haste.

It seems, while you slept, Halsin talked to both a tailor and a leather-worker on your behalf. What is more surprising is the light scolding you receive.

“You should have spoken up, we cannot afford such a loss in these dire times.”

“And we can afford this?” You doubt, knowing how much new, custom armor costs.

One stern look from Halsin, and you concede.

Everyone pooled their gold together to buy you fitted clothing and armor, a gesture that means the world to you. What have you done to deserve such kind friends? Just as you took on their troubles, they’re taking on yours without a second thought.

There is one part of their gesture that gives you pause. They need your measurements, and you need to stand for it. With abdomen muscles still healing, you require Halsin’s help to get out of bed, leaning heavily against him.

So close to him, you breathe in his scent, take in his warmth, and relish the contact. It’s almost enough to distract you from the embarrassment of having a stranger shimmy a measuring tape around your body. You hide your discomfort as best you can, but Halsin notices.

He always does.

He must have read it as pain, because he hastens the person along so you can lay down and rest again. Another unsaid deed that shows his care for you, soothing the stinging humiliation.

“Let me call the healers over, I am sorry for disturbing your rest.”

You grab his hand, stilling his movements. “Wait, please.”

“What troubles you, friend?”

You shake your head. “Thank you. For carrying me back and for the clothing. Words cannot describe how grateful I am.”

Halsin takes your hand in his gently, “This fight would not be the same without you by my side.”

You blink away a rogue tear as Halsin brings forth a healer, and drift into a deep, healing sleep with a smile on your face.

When you wake, you’re fully restored, and your new armor and clothes are atop the bedside table. The sight should fill you with excitement, but all you feel is dread.

What if they don’t fit you? What if they’re too small?

Retreating to a corner with a privacy curtain, you hesitantly try them on, thankful that your party isn’t here. To your surprise and great relief, they all fit–as they say–like a glove. The leather armor comes with a learning curve with all the straps and strings, but after a few mistakes, you figure it out.

It’s genius, really. With overlapping leather and lacing on the side, up the arms, and down your legs, its size is fully adjustable. Up to a point, of course, but extremely useful for the days to come. You’ll probably lose more weight as the journey is far from over, and now you have armor that can account for size changes in either direction!

You choke back tears of happiness, never once having known the feel of well-fitting clothes until now. Everything has been uncomfortable in some way or another, always with minor inconveniences, and never once did they look good.

In these clothes, it doesn’t matter how you look. You feel good in them, and for once in your life, that is all that matters. A burden has been lifted from your shoulders whose weight you never noticed before now.

Could you truly be comfortable within this body of yours?

Later, when they all come back to the inn after adventuring, the party makes you spin for them so they can get a good look at your new attire, and although shy, your smile is brighter than it has ever been.

Saving Thaniel is no easy task, and you probably have a few more gray hairs after that battle. With Halsin’s life at stake if you fail, you fight tooth and nail to protect the portal.

Even though it is not enough to lift the curse, Halsin’s eyes soften whenever he looks upon you, and that is all the reward you need.

Your love does not end with Halsin; each party member has wormed their way into your heart. So when Shadowheart embarks on her quest with you at her side, you trust her to make the right choice.

Dame Aylin is truly something to behold. The daughter of a goddess, and a god in her own right. To be reunited with her love after so many years is a love story of the ages. You’re lucky to bear witness to it, although it tugs at the heartstrings.

The longing for a love such as theirs does not linger on your mind, not with the battle for Moonrise Towers looming overhead.

Is this the end? Will you be free to live your life once more? The end does not feel as near as you are led to believe. Not all of the pieces fit together yet, and the unknown scares you.

As you suspected, Ketheric Thorm was just one head of the hydra. There is much more to be done, and the journey ahead weighs heavily on your shoulders. You try to focus on your triumphs; the Shadowcurse is lifted, the land can begin to heal, and Halsin promises to remain by your side.

A heart full of joy can only do so much when you’re running on fumes, requiring a warm bed and a few days rest. Your friends help distract you from the wear and tear of the past few weeks, always bickering about this or that. Usually you stay out of it, but Halsin has other plans on the journey to Wyrm’s Crossing, it seems.

Freeing Thaniel, and moreso, the land, has earned you a special place by Halsin’s side. You did not expect that place to come with an honorary nickname.

Two simple words. It, at first, fills you with a sense of kinship, but soon begins to wear on your mind. As much as you love the affection it implies, one of those words hasn’t pertained to you for a long time.

You find him that night at camp, voice hesitant. “Halsin, can I ask you something?”

“What is it, little duck?” He greets you with a pleased smile.

“Well, that’s what I need to talk about. Little duck.”

“Does it not please you?”

“No–it’s not that. It’s just,” you pause, crossing your arms as you take a deep, calming breath. “I’m not little.”

“Are you not?” he inquires with a hint of mirth.

Confused eyes lift to find his hand hovering above your head, a silent judgment of your height.

Your stoic facade breaks with a smile, then with laughter, and you nudge him with your shoulder playfully.

“You got me there,” you surrender, grinning ear to ear.

Halsin laughs with you, but retains a more serious composure. “As much as that pleases me, should I call you by another name?”

“Please don’t,” you answer swiftly, needing no arduous thought to decide.

From then on, anytime he says those two words, it fills you with warmth.

Reuniting with the refugees saved from the Shadowlands brings you joy, but not as much as a real bed and a roof over your head does.

Freshly washed and bathed, you almost forgot what it’s like to be clean. The quest to save the city is as grave as ever, yet all you needed was some self care to feel ready to take on the Elder Brain.

The nights in Elfsong Tavern are anything but quiet, and you feel Halsin’s attention grow with each night, like he’s working up to something.

Maybe it’s just hopeful thinking, but you feel the chemistry between the two of you. Laughter and conversation is always easy with him, and he’s been touching you more.

Nothing serious; grazing your arm, wiping a smudge of dirt off your face, his hand lingering on your shoulder. The contact, although small, brightens your mood, and you begin to yearn for it every time he’s near, even if you still think romance is out of the question.

It’s almost comedic, how wrong you are.

Not a week passes before Halsin confesses his feelings for you; how he yearns to feel your skin against his in a romantic night under the stars. You barely hear his next words over your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

His heart stirs for you, just as yours does for him. He seems so vulnerable, just now. Nervous, just as you would be in his shoes. You feel as though you are seeing a piece of him rarely shown, or perhaps you did not wish to see past the brawn. Your souls are of the same gentle nature, and just a rest away from uniting in bliss.

Fidgeting in your sheets, you try to calm your turbulent mind, but it is hopeless. Each shift calls attention to the throbbing in between your thighs, their thickness both a blessing and a curse. But your mind is still eager to race into dark territory. The night of your dreams is accompanied by your mountain of insecurities.

You’ve been intimate with others before, but that was of a low time where you hid parts of yourself to please others.

There will be no more of that. He will know you. All of you. Even if it means he does not want you after.

With mind set, you find him in the clearing by the lake, his large hand upon the rough bark of a tree in silent communion. When turns to greet you, the relief and excitement in his eyes brightens the world around you both, and instills you with courage.

All thoughts of revealing your most authentic self blow away with the breeze when Halsin relieves himself of his clothes. Standing proudly naked before you, he sweeps you up in his arms, his kiss as passionate and devouring as he promised, with roaming hands settling on your plump rear.

All of your insecurities come back to nag you all at once, and you break away from the kiss. “Wait, please.”

“What is it, my love?”

Crossing your arms, you begin to pace. The movement helps focus your thoughts, and you take a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m fat,” you begin with the simplest statement of your imagined deficiencies. “For most of my life now I’ve been various sizes of fat, and I’m probably always going to be fat. I don’t want to be. I didn’t choose it. I have stretch marks, flabby arms, back fat.”

Your voice begins to shake as tears well in your eyes. “Yes, I’ve shrunk a bit these past few weeks, but it’s not enough! Not nearly enough. Because even if I do lose all this weight,” you pause, feeling the pressure build within–a truth so long known but never said aloud, ready to burst out of your chest whether you will it or not.

“I will still hate myself!” The first sob rips from your throat as the emotional dam is broken, shaking your entire being.

Halsin rushes to you, enveloping you in his embrace, cradling your head to his chest.

“Beauty is not about size, little duck. Variety provides necessary balance in nature, and there is no shame in taking joy from its fruits. Your inner peace is what truly matters.”

Only now it occurs to you that he has also been judged for his size. Maybe not all negative, but that is not to say it did not have an ill-effect on his self-esteem and outward personality.

After you stop shaking, he coaxes you to meet his gaze. Eyes red and puffy, you do as he wishes, taking in every beautiful detail of his face before settling on his eyes, as serene as the lake before you.

“I love you as you are, stretch marks and all.” He strokes your face gently and then takes your hands in his. “Let me show you.”

Halsin guides you to the lake’s edge, and positions himself behind you, leaning both your bodies forward. The view is exquisite, but you know it is not what holds his attention. Cautious eyes follow the ripples of the water, slowly casting down until you see your reflection.

Halsin smiles when you meet his mirrored gaze, wrapping his arms around your waist. The angle is unflattering, to say the least, but you are willing to try this for him. The heat off his bare skin is a comfort, but also a reminder that your clothes are what separates your skin from his.

“If you are comfortable, I’d like you to undress. To look upon yourself as you do, and be comforted in my desire.”

Comfortable is not something that would describe you in this moment, but you feel ready to reveal yourself to him. Closing your eyes, you still your mind to the symphony of the world around you; crickets singing, a light breeze coming off the lake, and Halsin’s steady breathing as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. Heart fluttering in your chest, you take your shirt off with nervous hands.

After helping you discard the fabric, he is instantly upon you, trailing kisses down the side of your face until he’s sucking at your neck. You melt into him, tilting your head to reveal more skin for him to worship with his soft lips.

Rough fingers tickle at your waist with feather-light grazes, you giggle at the feeling and place your hands over his. Lacing your fingers in between his, you move with him as he explores your waist.

Heat rushes to your core as you feel his cock twitch against your back. You grow impatient, moving his hands to hold your breasts. He moans into your neck, pulling you against him while gently squeezing.

“More, please. I need to see all of you,” he pleads breathlessly in your ear, thumbs pulling down the hem of your bra.

You pull away for only a second, the ambient temperature feels so cool compared to your combined heat. Gooseflesh prickles at your arms, and as you discard your bra, you can’t help but admire your form in the water below. Nipples hard from the cold air soon find shelter in Halsin’s large hands, and his heat blankets you in a blissful stupor once again.

Lust pools in your mind, overpowering any insecurities still swirling within. Only thoughts of him remain, and you need no further instruction to take the next step. Your panties cling to your pants as you pull them down. Halsin provides an arm for you to balance while slipping them off, and you come face to face when you toss the unwanted clothing further onto land.

You’d pounce on him, but he quickly turns you around to face the lake again with a playful chuckle.

“Almost, my love. Look how extraordinarily beautiful you are, just as nature intended.”

There you are, indeed. There’s your belly that you’ve loathed, the fat thighs that have been your bane, your double chin that distracts you from your beautiful face. Yet, with him at your back, your perspective begins to change, and you can see this body as yourself instead of some ugly, fat thing.

Halsin trails one hand down your stomach, over your stretch marks, and cups the plush overhang, squishing slightly as he smooths his palm back up your body, feeling the entirety of your curves.

All of your fears dissipate with the irrevocable proof of his attraction digging into your back, and you turn to face him. This time, he allows you, his hands grabbing your ass greedily. You run your hands up his body, relishing the feel of his coarse hair covering his chest and stomach. He moans softly at your touch, but something else starts to happen.

His eyes begin to glow as he backs away from you in haste. The transformation is something you have seen many times, but never did you see the emotion behind it.

There is nothing as flattering as a partner losing themselves so utterly in a shared moment. Changing back just as fast, he flashes you a sheepish grin.

Halsin starts to speak, but your patience is at its limit, and you run up to him, pulling him down for a kiss before he can utter a single word.

Having regained his confidence through your kiss, he leads you back to the tree he was initially at, kneeling at its base. He leads you down to him, laying you down on the softest grass you’ve ever felt. There is a fleeting taste of his passion-full lips as he kisses his way down to your breasts, taking his time to kiss each one before descending further.

Halsin’s lips against your stomach tickle in a touch-starved way, adding coal to the fire raging inside your core. He slips his arms underneath your knees, bending and spreading your legs. Supporting himself on his elbows, he reaches around, parting your lips by pulling your flesh toward your belly button.

The first soft kiss upon your exposed clit has you gasping for air, hands grabbing fistfuls of grass at your side. It was only the calm before the storm; a single taste of honey is not nearly enough to satiate the beast between your thighs, and he shows you no mercy.

Tongue lapping at your cunt from entrance to throbbing bud, Halsin has you squirming under his touch. Just as you think his pleasure is at its peak, he suckles your clit.

Toe curling, back arching, you scream his name as you reach carnal heights you never thought possible.

You whine when he stops, but when you see his swollen cock twitching between his legs, you know exactly what he needs. He lets you push him back onto the grass, helping you straddle him with a steadying hand. Cock nestled perfectly between your folds, you nuzzle his nose with yours before he pulls you into a passionate kiss. The taste of you is intoxicating as you drink in his moans, slide your hips against him, obscenely slick.

Ever hungry for more, you explore his body with your mouth, hips never ceasing their slow but steady rock. Thick, muscled neck, tender for kissing. Pronounced pecks perfect for light, teasing bites. Sensitive nipples ripe for sucking. Veiny arms that your lips could kiss for days. The faded but still visible stretch marks around his shoulders that now hold a special place within your heart, and you kiss each one of them.

You worship him, mind and body just as he does with his burly hands ever present on your lust-driven body. His touch now bruising, he tries to push into you with each thrust, soft moans turning into desperate grunts.

He catches at your entrance, but you tilt your hips so he passes over your clit once again. You shiver at the feeling, and cannot help the laugh that accompanies the bliss.

Teasing Halsin is just so fucking hot.

With an animalistic growl, he rolls you onto your back, having had enough of your shenanigans. Your sounds of glee quickly turn lewd as his cock finally finds purchase, stretching you delightfully with his mighty girth.

Even with a mind lost to passion, he takes your comfort into account, pushing in slowly to let you adjust. His hungry mouth kisses your face, your lips, your jaw, your neck, until your canting, impatient hips break the last thread of his self control.

Burying his nose in your hair, one hand holding your breast, hips pumping, he makes love to you under the stars. You wrap your arms around him, holding onto his back to keep from being pushed away from the force of his hips. Your voices are a sweet, rhythmic chorus to nature as you feel a fluttering grow in your core. Halsin relinquishes his grip on your breast, hooking his hand underneath one of your knees to spread you further.

He reaches new heights within you, and you feel his cock harden more than you thought possible, readying to fill you with the nature’s bounty you’ve been craving. Your hands slip down to his ass, needing all of him inside you.

Your wants ever his desire, he buries his cock inside you and ruts, massaging the bundle of nerves deep within. Your fingers cling to him, leaving red lines down back unintentionally as the chord within finally snaps. Walls fluttering around him before clenching down, the waves of pleasure overtake you both, and he is a helpless passenger in its wake. He says your name like a prayer as his hips stutter in their rhythm.

Cradling him close as you feel his cock pulse, you whisper in his ear, “I love you, Halsin.”

That mystical night under the stars with Halsin was legendary. Its memory, as well as the man himself, helps you through the rest of your quest, picking you up when you are down. All you need to do is close your eyes, and you’re right back in that clearing by the lake with him beside you.

You do not know if you would have gotten through it all without him. By the time you defeat the Netherbrain, you are the thinnest you’ve been since childhood, and also the most sickly. Stronger muscles and better food is not enough in the face of true exhaustion, and it shows in your gaunt face.

The celebration with Halsin that night is sweet and gentle, containing all the relief of a battle hard won. You cannot help the tears that fall from your eyes as you reach your climaxes together.

It all feels like a dream. How could you have made it through all that alive and relatively well? With him at your side? A man as loving as he is large, he still does not impose anything on you. Talking as if there could be a chance you wouldn’t be going with him to resettle Moonrise Towers.

You depart in the morning with nine wagons full of kids of various ages, all without families or homes, and your bear at your side.

The savior of Baldur’s Gate is a bit rich for your liking, but it does give you a certain air of respect when you have to give them time-outs.

Halsin calls them all his ducklings, and it is so very fitting with how they follow him around from dawn till dusk.

When you receive a letter with shaky lettering inviting you to the place where it all began, you’re more than happy to reunite with everyone. The time without doom hanging over your heads has certainly made you both plump and happy. You still struggle with body image issues, but you feel comfortable in your skin more often than not. A battle that is waning in your favor, with once barren fields blooming with slow acceptance.

Your appetite for life has always been large. Giant partner, a heap of kids to call your own, and enough tall tales to last them well into adulthood; you want for nothing in the years to come.

With Halsin you build a loving home–an ending you never thought you deserved.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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@thegirlsmorgue @confused--polarity @waterm3i0n @violet-starlings-blog @thunderdownunder

@ashrio20

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dhr-advent · 10 months

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Hello and welcome to the 13th year of D/Hr Advent! 2023 Master list of all fic and art below. There are 24 great pieces waiting for Dramione fans! Happy holidays to all!

1. A Gentleman's Guide to Courtship and Caregiving - fic by ChaosAndCrumpets

2. Powdered Sugar - art by dracodormiensss

3. The Path Carefully Tread - fic by HeyJude19

4. Chaperone Chaos, Mistletoe Madness: A Yule Ball Tale - fic by scullymurphy

5. A Moment of Peace - art by Tiny_Q

6. Most Sincerely Yours - fic by morriganmercy

7. Christmas Lights - art by cocotamarindo

8. O' Little Town of Balsam Grove - fic by inadaze22

9. The Name is Candy Cane - art by ectoheart

10. Seasons of Liberation - fic by Misdemeanor1331

11. Penguins, Pebbles, and Other Reasons to Pursue Unemployment - fic by mightbewriting

12. Endless Winter - art by Roseheira

13. Sounds Worth It - fic by RoseHarperMaxwell

14. Cozy Christmas - art by elivrayn

15. Not What It Looks Like - fic by eveningstruggle

16. From the Journal of Hermione Granger - fic and art by Catmint and Thyme

17. sweet dreams of holly and ribbon - fic by LovesBitca8

18. In Want of a Wife - fic by ambpersand

19. Ten Minutes and Counting - art by jaxxinabox

20. Keep It Like a Secret - fic by PacificRimbaud

21. Best present is…. (Hermione on her knees) - art by Incendiosketches

22. Teach Me How to Fall - fic by sodamnrad

23. Under the Aurora - art by Ivmaruva

24. You Will Finish Decorating Later, Granger - art by Lazy_Dragon_Art

#dhr advent 2023 #dramione #*mod post

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hcdragonwrites · 1 year

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Epilogue ( @journey-to-the-au Fic)

This is what happens at the end of Tea trouble. It’s just short but it’s because I wanted to write fluff and cuddles and warmth.

The sun sank slowly into the sea, painting that great swath of liquid to fire. Willow felt the soft weariness sneak into her face as finally, finally her family mounted their heavenly steeds and kept back into the sky. The stars were beginning to appear in the darkening night. Gold, wood, water and fire. They marked the sky with their light as she waved her sisters goodbye.

From the mouth of babes came a second peace, a second chance. Lychee had offered the peach and Winter had taken a bite from it. An exchange and a wave of apologies. Willow had spent that time swapping tales and trading secrets of her home. Of her mountain. With her sisters. They listened attentively. They touched her hand- sought comfort and reassurance they had not lost her forever in their callous remarks. Willow reassured, reaffirmed and rebounded with each of her sisters.

She was exhausted. Willow sighed, itching her scalp. Her hairpins still bothered her, and her clothes felt too heavy. She wanted nothing more then to sleep for a fortnight. Anger was an emotion Willow rarely dove into, rarely utilized and unleashed. Calm rage? Yes. Anger that blinds like this one did ? No. It left her feeling achy and tired and o so sensitive to her skin.

Willow sighed. She was so thankful to the fruit troop, to Pear and Apple, Pomelo and Mulberry. And Lychee. The bravest little mischief maker ever. The first to offer a olive branch to her sisters and to forgive them. No one will talk that way to them ever again.

For now as the sun cast itself into the sea Willow felt her final strength ebb and fade with its light. She took a step back to rebalance herself —

Great large furred arms swung her up and over broad shoulders. She squealed in surprise as Wukong raised her up, growing in size himself.

“WILLOW!” He practically roared as the rest of the mountain followed suit. Thousands of the troop came racing forward, pressing close and reaching up to her from the spot on Wukongs shoulders. The rest of them were crowing and hollering and screaming. Calling her name.

“Gather the softest pillows and blankets ! The night will hold for us all- set the guards to chasing any beasts out of the groves. Light the fire pits! And everyone GATHER YOUR FAVORITE FRUIT!” Willow heard the roar of the crowd as they thundered off. Hammocks were pulled between trees, bundles of blankets and pillows and downy things were dragged and set down in the field. Monkeys lit the fire pits that lined the clearing, the great orange light casting dancing shadows as the sun continued its decent. Willow saw the troop laugh and chortle as they brought fruits out. A veritable second feast of food. Kiwis, grapes, oranges, watermelons, melons and nectarines.

Wukong kept Willow on his shoulders. Willow was too tired to ask why or deny the outward pouring of love from her earthen family. This was just the way they heaped support and love onto her. A veritable jungle of nests and hammocks, of blanketed caves and soft spots to lay soon covered the grass all around.

To tangle and tug and touch was the Monkey way of showing love. Willow sighed, laying against her husbands very soft and large head.

“What did I do ? It was all my fault.”

“Hush you I won’t hear you taking the blame for others ever again.” Wukong admonished. Several of the troop had gathered nearby, dragging a forest of bedding and plush to make nests and enjoy the night. Wukong set himself down in the thick of the troop, taking Willow up off his shoulders and into his lap. His tail coiled around her a hand against her middle. The giant monkey practically swamped her as he chirped and cooed, crooned and kissed her temples and nose.

“Wukong don’t swallow her!” Ba admonished. Willow peered from between the fur of Wukongs neck. She felt like a chick beneath a mother hen, completely covered and warm. She saw Ba setting up a little nest beside them. Beng was busy swinging Pomelo and Mulberry about-throwing them into pillows that bounced them slightly in the air.

“Save some for the rest of us please.” Ba snorted. Lychee was seated on Chestnuts shoulders talking his mothers ear off about his day and how he and his friends had gotten Little Weaver Girl to braid them flower crowns. He still wore his on his brow, eyes bright. They two set their bedding and nesting material down beside them.

“Are we all sleeping out beneath the stars ?” Willow asked. Wukong didn’t say yes with words. He was too overcome with an emotion, a puff of pride that expanded his chest. Here was his Willow Tree. The strong women who had been betrothed to him but had chosen him- heart and soul. Willow who had turned Huaguoshan into a protected area. Willow who had stalwartly sat beside him when he had been burning and boiling and close to madness inside that bronze prison. Willow who had bravely offered herself to the Imposter to save the rest of his family. And it had been Willow again who had chosen his people and family, his friends and loved ones, and had brought to heel celestial who thought they could talk down to him and what was his.

Whatever I did - whatever luck shot through my sky and made my stone sentient - I am glad it made me in time to be with her.

“Yes princess.” He softly whispered to her. “You defended all of us yet again. You brilliant warrior.” For she was a warrior. Not of blades or fists or claws of teeth. Words were her weapon and she used them brilliantly. More accurate then an arrows fall, she pierced Huaguoshan enemies with no bloodshed.

If I had met her when I was seeking my enlightenment … before I sought Heavens recognition… he wondered. Would his life have gone on a entirely new path? Wukong mussed her hair with his teeth, nibbling until she tapped his jaw in play.

His friends settled about them and the rest of the troop began to visit Willow, offering food and comfort. The little bundle of baby fruits ran across the clearing. They had been hero’s and they didn’t even know it.

Wukong lay curled over and around Willow like some large languid cat, tail tucked possessively about her. He became larger still, letting the little fruits climb onto his back in their play. Rin Rin came forward and Wukong allowed her to take Willows hair down, to groom and to ease her scalp.

Rin Rin heard the story as Wukong, Ba, Liu and Beng recounted it. They were now all here against Wukongs side, grooming and offering fruits or each other, to Willow. The love was a warm glow in the night , a glow that came from within and rivaled that of the dying sunlight. Ba kept off his pranks and offered Willow sour green grapes- and his deepest vows of loyalty. Wukong snorted happily, a large hand gently scratching along Willows back. Beng checked their little word warrior over and then gave her a single hardy shake. Ma was blubbering with Rin Rin who simply held on and brushed Willows hair out. Liu bowed and offered his own vows of loyalty- setting Ba to trying to outdo him.

Wukong waited till the stars were bright in the sky, the moon rising now to cast her silver light to whisper and speak praise and words of love. He wanted to drown her in the emotion that beat in his chest. It was a glow as steady as the sun and as wild as the world. It was not the same love Rin Rin or Liu or Ba or Chestnut Or Beng Or Ma experienced.

Forever and always. I will See her days filled with joy and peace. I will topple the very pillars that hold this world up to give her that. Wukong watched her burrow into his side, fingers curled in his fur. He looked to the sky, to the Heavens. To beyond that- to the cosmic sphere of reality. The universe beyond the Heavens.

“Thank you for making her. She’s perfect.” Words failed. Perfect was so silly of a word. Willow was more then perfect. She was victorious, stalwart, kind, compassionate, a stone to rest his back against and the shade that hid him from the burning sun.

“I will keep you. Forever. Until the very definition of eternity crumbles. Thank you Willow, for filling my days with your love.”

Wukong kissed her temple and pulled her into his warmth, pulling several of his with her. Tails and hands, feet and limbs all intercrossed and overlapped. They were tangled, intertwined like the roots of a tree. Grounding the willow tree they all loved to their earth, to their mountain.

#hcwrites #writing stuff #hcfanfics #just something soft #I could have made this longer but #I just wanted it to be a happy little memory.#is the new hoizer album making me romantic even though the song I’m listening to is about endings #yes it is making me romantic #also just talking about fluff makes me want to write it.#jttw au #for journey to the au #jttw tag #sun wukong #jttw sun wukong #earth reaching willow #marshal liu #ugh the song makes me so soft #I just love love man.#yes they all pulled nesting stuff out.#Wukong wanted to bask in the love- Willow would probably have said it wasn’t nessicary if it wasn’t for how tired she is #Rin Rin gave Willow the best scalpe message so she could not get a headache from the pins she had to put her hair up #Ba trying to outcompete Liu on who values Willow most.#that’s flower fruit mountains willow #the mountain isn’t letting her go jsut as much as the monkeys upon it #I Like to thing that Wukong may have been talking to a cosmic spirit- or just telling the universe thanks for making willow

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mirisss · 9 months

Text

Heartfelt choices Leejeong arc

Evnne Lee Jeonghyeon x afab! reader

Wordcount ≈ 12.2 k (whoops 😅 he's just so boyfriendy I couldn't stop myself)

Warnings: kissing, jealousy, slight possessiveness, hugging, PDA, mentioning of abs, I think that’s it

Thank you for the request!

A stand-alone fic from this post, does not reference the original at all

Third Person POV

In the small town of Everwood, where the seasons painted the landscape in vibrant hues and secrets whispered through rustling leaves, there existed an unbreakable bond between two souls - (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon. From the earliest whispers of childhood, (Y/n) had known Jeonghyeon, their lives intertwined like the ivy that embraced the ancient trees in their favorite hidden grove.

As the years unfolded, every chapter of (Y/n)'s life was written in collaboration with Jeonghyeon. They were inseparable, their laughter echoing through the narrow alleys and open fields that bore witness to their shared adventures. From conquering the towering peaks of imagination in their backyard to navigating the delicate dance of adolescence, the duo faced it all side by side.

Their connection was so profound that it surpassed the understanding of those around them. Everwood, with its close-knit community, couldn't help but weave tales of romance around (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon. The glances shared, the synchronized laughter, and the unspoken understanding led the town's gossip mill to assume a romantic entanglement. However, the truth remained steadfast - they were just friends.

As the autumn leaves painted the landscape in hues of gold and amber, (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon found themselves standing at the threshold of their final year of high school. Excitement buzzed in the air, but an undeniable pang of melancholy lingered within them. Their eyes scanned the class schedule, and a shared sigh escaped their lips when they realized that they would only be sharing one class.

The hallways, once echoing with their laughter and shared stories, suddenly felt a bit lonelier. The prospect of diverging paths and separate classrooms cast a shadow over the familiarity they had grown accustomed to. In the quiet moments between classes and during lunch, (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of not spending as much time together.

Their friendship, like a cherished melody, had harmonized through the years, creating a symphony of shared experiences. From navigating the challenges of homework to celebrating the victories of adolescence, they had stood by each other's side. The prospect of fewer shared moments threatened to dampen the spirit of their final year.

However, (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon were resilient. They decided to cherish the moments they did have together, making each shared class a precious opportunity to create lasting memories. Their determination to savor the remaining time fueled a renewed sense of appreciation for the simplicity of their friendship.

In the midst of the changing seasons and the transitions that marked the end of high school, (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon held on to the core of their connection. The corridors might be wider, and the paths might lead in different directions, but the bond forged over years of shared laughter and unspoken understanding remained unbroken. As they embarked on the journey of their last year, (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon vowed to make each moment count, weaving the final chapters of their high school tale with the threads of enduring friendship.

Jeonghyeon, once a lanky and carefree companion in the adventures of childhood, had blossomed into a tall and handsome young man, capturing the attention of many within the walls of their high school. His features had sharpened, and his presence commanded attention, earning him admirers and friends alike. However, amidst the whispers of admiration and the glances of his peers, there was one person who held a special place in his heart—(Y/n).

Despite the attention he received, Jeonghyeon's thoughts often drifted to the girl who had been his constant companion throughout the journey of life. (Y/n), with her infectious laughter and unwavering support, held a unique position that surpassed the fleeting admiration of high school peers. In the tapestry of friendships he had woven, hers was the thread that ran deepest.

Surrounded by friends, Jeonghyeon always found solace in the moments spent with (Y/n). Whether it was the shared glances during class or the familiar banter over lunch, their connection remained untouched by the changing tides of popularity and adolescence. No matter how many admirers Jeonghyeon might have had, (Y/n) was the one he cared about the most.

In the crowded hallways and social dynamics of high school, Jeonghyeon's gaze was often sought out (Y/n). To him, she was more than just a friend; she was the anchor of his journey, the one who had witnessed every chapter of his life. In his eyes, as he navigated the complexities of teenagehood, (Y/n) would always be the prettiest girl in the world—her beauty transcending the superficial standards of high school allure.

Their friendship, rooted in the authenticity of shared memories and unspoken understanding, stood resilient against the currents of change. As Jeonghyeon embarked on the path of self-discovery in the final year of high school, (Y/n) remained a constant, reminder of the enduring beauty found in genuine connections.

(Y/n), in the tapestry of high school dynamics, occupied a unique space. She wasn't someone people described as undeniably pretty by the conventional standards that often dictated social hierarchies. Yet, neither was she subjected to the harsh currents of bullying nor adorned with the crown of popularity. Instead, she existed in the quiet middle ground, navigating the halls with a sense of quiet confidence.

People spoke of (Y/n), not for her appearance or social standing, but for the enigma that surrounded her relationship with Jeonghyeon. The whispers echoed through the corridors, curious minds wondering about the nature of their bond. Some speculated that there must be something more between them, a romantic connection masked by the guise of friendship. Others simply marveled at the depth of their companionship, unable to comprehend how two individuals could be so inseparable without crossing the boundaries of romance.

In a world where popularity often dictated the narratives, (Y/n) defied the norms. She was neither the girl whose name adorned the list of prom queens nor the one who faced the torment of bullies. Instead, she found herself at the center of attention for reasons beyond the superficial.

As the speculation continued, (Y/n) moved through the hallways with a grace that transcended the fleeting judgments of high school society. She remained steadfast, her focus on the genuine connection she shared with Jeonghyeon rather than the opinions of those around her. The ambiguous nature of their friendship became a testament to the depth of their understanding, a bond that surpassed the need for labels.

The first week of their final year had passed in a whirlwind of new classes, old routines, and the bittersweet realization that their time together in high school was drawing to a close. Eager to reconnect and share their individual experiences, (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon decided to gather with their common friends, Junghyun, Gunwook, and Yunseo, for a movie night.

The familiar comfort of their group settled in as they arranged themselves on the couch, popcorn in hand and laughter in the air. As they delved into discussions about their weeks, sharing anecdotes and minor triumphs, (Y/n) dropped a bombshell that sent ripples through the room. With a playful smile, she casually mentioned, "Oh, by the way, someone asked me out on a date this week."

Jeonghyeon, caught off guard, felt a strange pang in his chest. It was a mix of surprise, curiosity, and an emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint. His eyes darted toward (Y/n), who seemed nonchalant about the revelation, as if it were just another ordinary occurrence. But for Jeonghyeon, it was anything but ordinary.

The room fell into a momentary hush as everyone processed the revelation. Yunseo was quick to gasp dramatically, Junghyun raised an intrigued eyebrow, and Gunwook offered an encouraging grin. Amidst the reactions of their friends, Jeonghyeon found himself grappling with a realization that lingered in the air like an unspoken secret.

He couldn't quite put it into words, but there was an unfamiliar sensation tugging at his heartstrings. It wasn't possessiveness or jealousy, but something more profound. Perhaps it was the dawning awareness that the dynamics of their friendship were evolving, ushering in a new chapter neither of them had anticipated.

As the movie night continued, (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon exchanged glances that held unspoken questions and a newfound depth. The atmosphere, once charged with the casual ease of friendship, now carried a subtle undercurrent of change. In the glow of the movie screen, with laughter echoing in the background, (Y/n)'s revelation became a turning point, setting the stage for emotions that would unfold in the uncharted territory of their final year.

The soft glow of the TV screen flickered as Junghyun, Gunwook, and Yunseo bid their goodbyes, leaving Jeonghyeon and (Y/n) alone in the cozy warmth of his living room. (Y/n) excused herself to change into her pajamas, a routine that had become second nature in the countless sleepovers they had shared over the years.

As (Y/n) disappeared into the bedroom, Jeonghyeon couldn't shake the lingering curiosity about the person who had asked her out. The air seemed charged with unspoken questions, and he found himself unable to resist addressing the elephant in the room. When (Y/n) returned, comfortably clad in pajamas, Jeonghyeon took a deep breath and broached the subject.

"So, who was it?" he asked with a gentle smile, trying to keep the tone light but unable to conceal the genuine curiosity in his eyes.

(Y/n), settling onto the couch, met his gaze with a playful glint in her eyes. "A guy from my biology class," she replied, her expression a mix of amusement and contemplation.

The room held a momentary pause, the weight of unspoken implications lingering in the air. Jeonghyeon, leaning in, couldn't help but ask the question that hung between them like a delicate thread.

"Are you going to say yes?"

(Y/n) met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a spectrum of emotions. The question seemed to hang in the air, bridging the realms of friendship and the unexplored territories beyond. The dynamics of their connection felt like they were teetering on the edge of change, and the decision she would make held the potential to alter the course of their final year.

A small, thoughtful smile curved on (Y/n)'s lips as she replied, "I haven't decided yet, Jeonghyeon. What do you think?"

The question hung in the air, laden with unspoken sentiments, as they navigated the uncharted waters of their evolving friendship. The decision, like the quiet tension in the room, lingered as a gentle undercurrent beneath the surface of their shared history.

Jeonghyeon's initial impulse to say no lingered on the tip of his tongue, yet he held back, realizing the importance of giving (Y/n) the space to make her own decision. Instead, he offered a thoughtful suggestion, "Why don't you take some time to think about the guy and what you want? Consider if you see yourself dating him and if it feels right for you."

(Y/n) nodded appreciatively, understanding the weight of his words. The air between them held a sense of unspoken understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that often accompanied the intersection of friendship and romantic possibilities.

As the night settled around them, they migrated to Jeonghyeon's room, the walls adorned with memories encapsulated in photographs and posters. Cozying down into the bed, they laid on each side, facing each other. The soft glow of ambient light from the bedside lamp illuminated the contours of their faces, creating an intimate atmosphere that mirrored the warmth of their friendship.

With the night as their canvas, they began to paint with words, reminiscing about old memories that had woven the fabric of their shared history. Laughter resonated in the room, accompanied by the occasional moments of quiet reflection. The tales of childhood adventures, shared secrets, and the journey through high school became the tapestry upon which their friendship was built.

In the gentle cadence of their conversation, the unspoken tension of the earlier discussion dissipated. The familiarity of their shared history provided a comforting backdrop to the uncertainties that lingered in the air. As they delved into the realm of old memories, the essence of their connection remained unaltered, a testament to the enduring strength of their friendship.

Wrapped in the cocoon of nostalgia, (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon found solace in the simplicity of the present moment, allowing the threads of their shared past to weave seamlessly into the fabric of their evolving story. The night unfolded as a sanctuary of shared memories and unspoken understanding, offering a respite from the complexities of high school and the unexplored territories that lay ahead.

The soft, rhythmic sound of (Y/n)'s breathing filled the room as she drifted into a peaceful slumber, leaving Jeonghyeon alone with his thoughts. The quietude of the night provided a canvas for his contemplation, and as he lay there in the dimly lit room, he couldn't help but revisit the emotions that had stirred within him when (Y/n) mentioned the date.

A mix of conflicting sentiments swirled in Jeonghyeon's mind. On one hand, a subtle pang of unease surfaced, an acknowledgment of the potential changes that loomed on the horizon. The idea of (Y/n) dating someone else introduced a nuance to their friendship that hadn't been present before. It was an unfamiliar territory that invoked a sense of vulnerability and a twinge of discomfort.

Yet, beneath the surface of those emotions, there was a quieter, more introspective undercurrent. Jeonghyeon recognized the importance of allowing (Y/n) the space to explore her own path, to make decisions that shaped her journey. The evolution of their friendship had always been marked by a deep understanding, and he grappled with the realization that, at times, understanding meant letting go.

As he gazed at the peaceful expression on (Y/n)'s face, a warmth of affection washed over him. The bond they shared had weathered the storms of adolescence, and the prospect of change, though daunting, was also a testament to the richness of their connection. Jeonghyeon found solace in the shared memories that painted the room, the laughter that echoed in the corners, and the unspoken language that had defined their friendship.

In the quiet moments of the night, Jeonghyeon embraced the complexity of his emotions. It wasn't just about his feelings for (Y/n), but also about acknowledging the inevitability of growth and change. As the night continued to unfold, he allowed himself the grace to navigate the uncertainties, finding strength in the resilience of their connection and the uncharted territories that awaited them both.

The classroom buzzed with the energy of students filing in, finding their seats for the shared class that (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon had. Jeonghyeon arrived a bit earlier, securing a table for the two of them. As he settled in, anticipation lingered in the air, mingling with the familiar hum of conversations.

When (Y/n) walked into the room, her excitement was palpable. The radiance of joy adorned her face, and she practically skipped towards Jeonghyeon, a burst of energy in her step. He couldn't help but smile, caught up in the contagious enthusiasm that seemed to envelop her.

However, as she reached him, the air shifted. (Y/n)'s eyes sparkled with a mixture of happiness and something else. She couldn't contain herself any longer and, with a burst of excitement, shared the news that had been on her mind.

"I said yes to the date!" (Y/n) exclaimed, her voice bubbling with delight.

Jeonghyeon's smile faltered for a brief moment, a subtle shift in the atmosphere as the reality of her words sank in. Yet, he quickly composed himself, offering a genuine smile in response. "That's great, (Y/n)! I'm happy for you," he replied, masking the complexities of his emotions beneath a veneer of support.

As the class unfolded, Jeonghyeon found himself navigating the dynamics of their friendship in the wake of this new development. The shared table became a space where unspoken sentiments lingered, the contours of their connection shifting subtly in the backdrop of the classroom's routine.

Amidst the academic discussions and shared assignments, (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon faced the uncharted territories of evolving friendships and the delicate dance between old memories and new possibilities. The shared class, once a familiar haven, now became the stage where the narratives of their final year would unfold, each chapter marked by the nuances of change and growth.

Jeonghyeon, determined to share his own piece of exciting news, leaned in to (Y/n) as they sat at their table. A spark of anticipation lit up his eyes as he spoke, "Hey, I've got something to share too. I'm trying out for the basketball team this afternoon. I hope it goes well, and maybe... you could be there to cheer me on?"

He couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous energy and eagerness. The prospect of taking on a new challenge, coupled with the idea of having (Y/n) there to support him, added an extra layer of significance to the day.

(Y/n)'s eyes widened with genuine excitement, her earlier news momentarily put on hold as she absorbed the revelation. "That's amazing, Jeonghyeon! Of course, I'll be there to cheer you on. You're going to do great!"

The shared class, once a space for academic pursuits, had now become a hub of shared dreams and aspirations. The air buzzed with the promise of new beginnings and the unwavering support that underlined their friendship. As the day unfolded, (Y/n) found herself navigating the delicate balance between supporting her friend's endeavors and exploring the uncharted territories of her own evolving journey. The shared table, witness to the ebb and flow of emotions, held the echoes of unspoken understanding and the unexplored possibilities that lay ahead.

As (Y/n) settled onto the bleachers, her excitement palpable, she eagerly awaited the moment when Jeonghyeon would take the court for the basketball tryouts. The air buzzed with a combination of nervous energy and the unwavering support that friends so often provided.

As the tryouts unfolded, Jeonghyeon's passion for the game became evident. He moved with a fluidity and skill that captured the attention of everyone present, and especially that of (Y/n). Her gaze followed his every move, a proud smile gracing her lips as she saw her best friend giving his all on the court.

The intensity of the tryouts left Jeonghyeon with a glistening sheen of sweat, a testament to the hard work he had put into honing his basketball skills. (Y/n) watched in awe as he showcased not only his athleticism but a determination that had perhaps eluded her notice before.

It was in these moments of athletic prowess that (Y/n) found herself seeing Jeonghyeon in a new light. The hours he had dedicated to the gym and his commitment to the sport had sculpted him into a remarkably handsome young man. As his shirt moved with the rhythm of his movements, revealing a hint of his toned physique, (Y/n) couldn't help but gasp in realization.

Jeonghyeon's transformation hadn't just been about physical strength; it had subtly caught (Y/n)'s attention in a way that transcended the realm of friendship. The realization settled in, and the air seemed to shimmer with a newfound awareness.

Amidst the cheers from the bleachers and the echo of basketballs bouncing on the court, (Y/n) sat there, her heart experiencing a quiet revelation. Jeonghyeon, drenched in sweat and showcasing his skills, had become something more than just a best friend in her eyes. The uncharted territories of their evolving friendship took an unexpected turn as the echoes of the basketball court carried with them the subtle whispers of change.

The tension in the air was palpable as the coach prepared to announce the names of those who had made the basketball team. As (Y/n) anxiously sat on the bleachers, her heart beat a little faster with each passing moment. The anticipation reached its peak when the coach finally began to call out the names.

"And finally," the coach's voice echoed through the gym. (Y/n) began to chant his name, a whispered plea for the coach to say it too. "Jeonghyeon, Jeonghyeon," she repeated, her hopes riding on the affirmation of his success.

The room held its breath until, finally, the coach announced the last name, "Lee Jeonghyeon." The gym erupted into cheers, and both (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon shouted a resounding "Yes!" in unison. The shared joy echoed through the space, a celebration of a new chapter in Jeonghyeon's journey.

Unable to contain her happiness, (Y/n) bolted down the bleachers, a radiant smile on her face. She reached Jeonghyeon just as he stepped off the court, and without hesitation, she enveloped him in a tight hug. The warmth of their embrace symbolized not only the triumph of making the team but also the unwavering support that defined their friendship.

Jeonghyeon, his face lit up with a mixture of happiness and gratitude, accepted the hug with open arms. The echoes of their shared excitement reverberated through the gym, marking a moment of triumph and camaraderie that would linger in the memories of both friends.

As they stood there, wrapped in the warmth of their shared joy, the uncharted territories of their evolving friendship seemed to unfold with each heartbeat, promising new adventures and shared triumphs on the horizon.

In the midst of the congratulatory chants and the celebratory atmosphere, (Y/n) wrapped Jeonghyeon in a heartfelt hug, her words of congratulations blending with the collective cheers in the gym. As she embraced him, her genuine joy radiated, a testament to the depth of their friendship and the shared triumph they were savoring together.

Jeonghyeon, though basking in the elation of making the team, found his focus shifting. The sensation of (Y/n)'s hug felt different this time, as if a subtle shift had occurred in the dynamics of their embrace. The realization dawned on him that, beyond the triumph of basketball victory, there was a warmth in (Y/n)'s presence that he found increasingly comforting.

In the quiet recesses of his thoughts, Jeonghyeon acknowledged the undeniable truth. The joy of their shared success, the exhilaration of being on the team, and the genuine happiness in (Y/n)'s eyes were all factors that made his heart race. However, there was another element, a subtle undercurrent of emotions that lingered in the spaces between them.

As they separated from the hug, Jeonghyeon couldn't help but meet (Y/n)'s eyes, a new awareness settling in. The uncharted territories of their evolving friendship seemed to be unveiling a chapter where emotions were as intricate as the woven threads of their shared history.

In the aftermath of triumph and shared joy, Jeonghyeon felt a quiet longing, a desire to hold onto those moments of closeness with (Y/n). The court may have been the stage for their basketball victory, but it was also the canvas upon which the nuanced colors of their evolving connection began to reveal themselves.

Friday night arrived, and (Y/n) found herself all dressed up, a swirl of excitement in her stomach as she prepared for her date with Park Hanbin, the guy from her biology class. The anticipation danced in her eyes, and she couldn't help but feel giddy at the prospect of what the night held.

As Hanbin arrived to pick her up, (Y/n)'s smile widened. She greeted him with enthusiasm, the air tinged with the nervous excitement of a first date. The promise of the evening hung in the balance, and she hoped for it to be a memorable one.

The duo embarked on their date, beginning with a visit to the movie theater. The flickering lights and the immersive world of the cinema provided a backdrop for shared moments and stolen glances. As the credits rolled, (Y/n) and Hanbin shared thoughts and laughter, the movie serving as a common ground for their budding connection.

Following the cinematic adventure, the night continued with a nice dinner, the ambiance complementing the warmth of their conversation. The clinking of utensils and the soft hum of the restaurant became the soundtrack to the evening, a melody woven with the threads of shared stories and burgeoning connection.

(Y/n) couldn't help but marvel at the unfolding of the date. The chemistry between her and Hanbin was evident, and she found herself enjoying the company and the potential for something more. The night, adorned with laughter and the subtle sparks of connection, held the promise of a new chapter in her life.

As the date progressed, (Y/n) allowed herself to be immersed in the moment, savoring the shared experiences and the prospect of romance that lingered in the air. Little did she know, the night held more surprises and revelations than she could have anticipated, the echoes of the evening resonating in the uncharted territories of her evolving journey.

The night air was filled with a gentle breeze as Hanbin drove (Y/n) back home, the remnants of their date lingering in the quiet spaces between them. In the soft glow of the car's interior, Hanbin broached a question that had been on his mind.

"So, (Y/n), what's your relationship with Jeonghyeon?" he asked, a genuine curiosity in his eyes.

(Y/n) smiled, a warmth in her gaze as she spoke about her best friend. "Jeonghyeon is my closest friend, the most important person in my life. We've been through everything together."

Hanbin listened attentively, his expression thoughtful. As (Y/n) shared the depth of her connection with Jeonghyeon, he gave her a genuine smile, appreciating the honesty in her words. However, as the silence settled, it became evident that there was more on Hanbin's mind.

"I do like you, (Y/n)," he admitted, his words sincere. "But it's clear that Jeonghyeon is important to you. I don't want to come between you two."

“What do you mean?” (Y/n) questioned as she couldn’t understand what Hanbin meant. Hanbin glanced at (Y/n) with a gentle sincerity as she asked for clarification. "Well, throughout our date, you mentioned Jeonghyeon more than anything else," he began, his tone thoughtful. "And the way your eyes light up when you talk about him, it's a kind of sparkle I've only seen in someone who is in love."

(Y/n)'s expression shifted, a mix of surprise and introspection. The realization settled in, and she found herself pondering Hanbin's observation. The unspoken depths of her feelings for Jeonghyeon, which had perhaps become more apparent than she had realized, were now laid bare.

Hanbin continued driving, leaving space for (Y/n) to process his words. The car became a vessel of introspection, the road stretching ahead symbolizing the uncharted territories of emotions and the complexities of intertwining relationships.

As the night carried them forward, (Y/n) found herself at a crossroads. The echoes of her date with Hanbin mingled with the lingering warmth of her connection with Jeonghyeon. The car, a silent witness to the unspoken truths that had surfaced, became a metaphor for the journey that lay ahead—an exploration of friendship, romance, and the intricacies of the heart.

As the weight of Hanbin's observation hung in the air, (Y/n) couldn't help but feel a tinge of concern about the potential impact on their budding connection. With a hint of hesitancy, she asked, "Did I ruin our chance, even just as friends?"

Hanbin, steering the car with a calm demeanor, offered a reassuring smile. "No, not at all. I would still love to be friends," he responded sincerely.

The tension in the car eased as (Y/n) absorbed his words. A sense of relief washed over her, and she appreciated the genuine openness in Hanbin's response. The prospect of friendship remained intact, providing a foundation for understanding and connection that could continue to evolve.

As the night carried on, (Y/n) and Hanbin navigated the complexities of their feelings, creating a space where the uncharted territories of their evolving connection could unfold. The car, moving through the quiet streets, symbolized the journey ahead—one marked by shared laughter, understanding, and the potential for deepening bonds, whether in the realm of friendship or the unexplored territories of the heart.

(Y/n) entered her room, the echoes of the night reverberating in her thoughts. The gentle click of the door closing behind her seemed to signal a moment of introspection. As she pondered Hanbin's words, a quiet question lingered in her mind: Did she like Jeonghyeon?

The room, adorned with familiar artifacts and the traces of countless shared memories, became a sanctuary for contemplation. (Y/n) settled into the stillness, allowing the complexities of her emotions to unravel in the quietude of her space.

She traced back through the threads of her friendship with Jeonghyeon, reliving the laughter, the shared secrets, and the comfort of his presence. The image of his name, the way it had been intertwined in her conversations with Hanbin, became a focal point in her contemplation.

As the night enveloped her, (Y/n) grappled with the realization that perhaps the emotions she felt for Jeonghyeon were deeper than she had acknowledged. The uncharted territories of her heart seemed to stretch before her, inviting exploration and self-discovery.

In the soft glow of her room, (Y/n) embraced the quietude, allowing the whispers of her emotions to guide her. The journey of understanding her feelings, both for Jeonghyeon and herself, unfolded in the solitude of that moment, marking the beginning of a new chapter in the story of her evolving heart.

Monday loomed with a mix of anticipation and nervous energy for (Y/n). The weekend had been a period of introspection, leading her to a realization that her feelings for Jeonghyeon ran deeper than she had initially acknowledged. As lunchtime approached, she found herself at their usual table, a swirl of emotions lingering beneath the surface.

Junghyun, Gunwook, and Yunseo greeted her with cheerful smiles, their usual camaraderie warming the atmosphere. As Jeonghyeon joined them a minute later, (Y/n) felt a flutter of nerves. She greeted him with a smile that concealed the subtle complexities of her evolving emotions.

The table became a stage for shared laughter and friendly banter, yet beneath the surface, a quiet tension lingered. Jeonghyeon, a hint of nervousness in his demeanor, finally broached the subject that had been on his mind.

"So, how was your date?" he asked, his eyes meeting (Y/n)'s with a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.

(Y/n) took a deep breath, the moment of truth unfolding. "It was nice," she replied, a subtle pause lingering in the air.

As (Y/n) began recounting the details of her date, the guys leaned in with eager expressions, their curiosity piqued. She shared almost every detail, describing the movie, the dinner, and the overall atmosphere of the night. Laughter and shared banter echoed around the table as she painted a vivid picture of her weekend adventure.

Yet, as she narrated the events, (Y/n) navigated the delicate balance of withholding a crucial detail. She chose not to mention how prominently Jeonghyeon had featured in her conversations with Hanbin. The words that had lingered unspoken between them seemed too delicate to unveil in the presence of their friends.

As the tale unfolded, Junghyun, Gunwook, and Yunseo reveled in the details, offering playful comments and words of encouragement. Jeonghyeon, too, listened attentively, his eyes reflecting a mix of interest and subtle uncertainty.

The conversation flowed seamlessly, the table a haven of shared stories and laughter. Little did they know that beneath the surface, unspoken truths lingered, awaiting the right moment to unravel in the complex tapestry of their evolving dynamics.

Amid the banter and laughter, the guys couldn't help but inquire about the future. "So, (Y/n)," Junghyun asked with a mischievous grin, "are you planning on going on more dates with Hanbin?"

(Y/n) paused for a moment, her thoughts flickering between the weekend's revelations and the uncharted territories that lay ahead. A thoughtful smile played on her lips as she replied, "I'm not sure yet. We'll see how things go."

The guys exchanged knowing glances, a playful camaraderie evident in their expressions. The prospect of romance and the unfolding dynamics added an intriguing layer to their friendship. The lunchtime conversation continued a blend of shared stories, friendly teasing, and the unspoken nuances that marked the beginning of a new chapter for (Y/n) and her friends.

As (Y/n) continued sharing the details of her date, Jeonghyeon felt a swirling emotion within him. It was a complex blend of curiosity, uncertainty, and a tinge of something he couldn't quite put into words. The realization that (Y/n) had spent the weekend with someone else, discussing the date with enthusiasm, stirred a sense of unease within him.

However, Jeonghyeon chose to hold back his emotions, knowing that expressing his feelings at that moment might complicate the dynamics of their friendship. He listened attentively, offering occasional smiles and nods as she spoke, masking the subtle turmoil that brewed beneath the surface.

The unspoken tension between them lingered, unnoticed by the others at the table. Jeonghyeon grappled with the complexities of his emotions, navigating the fine line between friendship and the unexplored territories that seemed to stretch before them.

As the lunchtime conversation continued, Jeonghyeon found solace in the camaraderie of their group, yet the quiet introspection within him hinted at the challenges and revelations that awaited them on the journey of evolving friendships and unspoken truths.

The rhythmic sound of basketballs echoed through the gym as Jeonghyeon engaged in his practice, the thud of sneakers against the floor punctuating the air. (Y/n) and Gunwook sat side by side on the bleachers, textbooks open and notes spread out as they attempted to focus on their studies.

However, (Y/n)'s attention was repeatedly drawn to the court below, where Jeonghyeon showcased his skills with every dribble and every shot. The distraction was so apparent that even Gunwook couldn't help but notice. He observed (Y/n) stealing glances in Jeonghyeon's direction, a subtle smile playing on her lips whenever he executed a particularly impressive move.

"Hey, (Y/n)," Gunwook teased, nudging her gently, "are you studying basketball or biology right now?"

Caught off guard, (Y/n) blushed slightly, realizing her lack of focus. "Oh, sorry. I just... I guess I got a bit distracted."

Gunwook chuckled, understanding the dynamics at play. "It's okay, happens to the best of us. Basketball practice can be pretty captivating, especially when your best friend is the star."

Feeling a sense of trust and camaraderie with Gunwook, (Y/n) decided to confide in him about the swirling emotions within her. During a momentary pause in their studying, she took a deep breath and opened up.

"Gunwook," she began, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability, "I think... I think I might like Jeonghyeon more than just a friend."

Gunwook, perceptive and understanding, looked at her with a gentle expression. He could sense the internal struggle she was facing and offered a supportive presence. "It's okay, (Y/n). Feelings can be complicated. What makes you think that?"

(Y/n) shared the nuances of her realization, the way her feelings had unfolded during and after the date with Hanbin, and the heightened awareness she felt when watching Jeonghyeon play basketball. As she spoke, the weight of unspoken emotions lifted, replaced by a shared understanding between friends.

Gunwook listened attentively, offering words of encouragement and comfort. "Sometimes, our feelings surprise us. It's normal to feel this way. Have you thought about talking to Jeonghyeon about it?"

The suggestion lingered in the air, and (Y/n) contemplated the idea of addressing the uncharted territories of her heart with Jeonghyeon. The support from Gunwook provided a comforting anchor as she navigated the complexities of friendship and the evolving dynamics between her and Jeonghyeon.

Listening to (Y/n)'s concerns about the potential impact on her friendship with Jeonghyeon, Gunwook offered a reassuring smile. "I understand that you're worried about ruining your friendship, but remember, true friendships are resilient. They can weather storms and evolve. If Jeonghyeon is the great friend we both know he is, he'll understand."

He continued, "Opening up about your feelings doesn't have to jeopardize your bond. It might bring a new layer of understanding between you two. And hey, even if the dynamics shift a bit, it doesn't necessarily mean the end of your friendship. Sometimes, it can lead to something even more meaningful."

His words carried a warmth of reassurance, and (Y/n) found comfort in the idea that their friendship could withstand the complexities of evolving emotions. The prospect of addressing her feelings with Jeonghyeon seemed less daunting, and with Gunwook's encouragement, she began to contemplate the possibility of sharing her heart with her best friend, unraveling the uncharted territories with courage and authenticity.

During a break in his basketball practice, Jeonghyeon glanced up at the bleachers and spotted (Y/n) and Gunwook sitting close together. A subtle pang of discomfort and unease stirred within him, and for the first time, Jeonghyeon found himself grappling with an unfamiliar emotion—jealousy.

As he watched the two of them studying and sharing a moment, the realization settled in. Jeonghyeon acknowledged the twinge of jealousy, a complex and unwelcome sentiment that seemed to rear its head in response to the proximity of (Y/n) and Gunwook.

In that moment of self-reflection, Jeonghyeon navigated the unfamiliar territory of jealousy, contemplating the source of these emotions and the dynamics that were unfolding among their group of friends. The uncharted territories of his own feelings, tangled with a mix of protectiveness and an evolving understanding, hinted at the complexities lying beneath the surface of their friendship.

As the basketball practice resumed, Jeonghyeon couldn't shake off the lingering discomfort. The echoes of jealousy became a silent undercurrent, weaving through the fabric of his thoughts, marking the beginning of a journey where unspoken feelings would demand acknowledgment and understanding.

As basketball practice came to an end, Jeonghyeon made his way to the locker room to change into fresh clothes, leaving Gunwook and (Y/n) to pack up their belongings. The gym slowly emptied out, and the anticipation of their post-practice hangout lingered in the air.

Gunwook and (Y/n), with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, exchanged a few words as they made their way to the doors. The café outing promised a continuation of the camaraderie they shared during their study session on the bleachers.

As they waited for Jeonghyeon to join them after practice, Gunwook leaned in and shared a mischievous plan with (Y/n). His eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as he whispered, "Hey, I've got an idea. What if I act a bit lovey-dovey with you, just to see how Jeonghyeon reacts?"

(Y/n), surprised by the suggestion, raised an eyebrow but couldn't suppress a small smile at Gunwook's playful demeanor. "Are you serious?" she asked in a hushed tone.

Gunwook chuckled, "Yeah, just for fun. We can see if Jeonghyeon shows any signs of, you know, being jealous or something."

The plan, though lighthearted, carried a weight of curiosity. (Y/n) hesitated for a moment, then agreed, "Alright, let's give it a shot. But don't make it too obvious, okay?"

As they exchanged a conspiratorial glance, little did they know that the playful experiment would set the stage for a series of unfolding events, each contributing to the uncharted territories of emotions and unspoken dynamics that seemed to weave through their shared friendships.

Jeonghyeon emerged from the locker room, now dressed in clean attire, and met them by the gym doors. The trio prepared to embark on the next chapter of their day, the café serving as a backdrop for shared conversations and the unspoken dynamics that seemed to weave through their interactions.

The echoes of basketball practice still lingered in the air, and as they stepped out together, the uncharted territories of emotions and evolving friendships unfolded before them. Little did they know that the café hangout would become a setting for unspoken truths and the delicate dance between friendship and the subtle shifts in dynamics that were beginning to shape their shared journey.

The trio walked together towards the café, the air thick with unspoken dynamics and the anticipation of their hangout. Gunwook, seizing the opportune moment, gave (Y/n) a playful wink before subtly initiating his plan. He began to act a bit more affectionate, the playful gestures and teasing words carrying an undertone of intentional closeness.

Jeonghyeon, who had been engaged in his own thoughts, noticed the shift in Gunwook's behavior. A frown creased his forehead as he observed the playful dynamic unfolding between his best friend and Gunwook. The unease he had felt earlier seemed to intensify, and a subtle tension settled in the air.

(Y/n), caught in the midst of the experiment, tried to gauge Jeonghyeon's reaction. She exchanged a quick glance with Gunwook, her eyes betraying a mix of amusement and curiosity. However, as they continued walking, Jeonghyeon's demeanor remained unreadable, and a hint of discomfort lingered beneath the surface.

As the trio arrived at the café, Gunwook, with a mischievous glint in his eye, intended to carry on with his plan by sitting beside (Y/n). However, just as he was about to take the seat, Jeonghyeon swiftly moved him aside and occupied the chair that Gunwook had intended to claim.

The unexpected maneuver caught Gunwook off guard, and a flicker of surprise passed across his face. (Y/n), too, looked at Jeonghyeon, her eyebrows raised in subtle curiosity. The atmosphere in the café, once filled with the playful energy of their friendship, now carried a nuanced tension.

Jeonghyeon's action spoke volumes, and the unspoken dynamics seemed to intensify. The uncharted territories of their evolving friendships now took an unexpected turn, leaving (Y/n), Gunwook, and even Jeonghyeon himself to grapple with the implications of this subtle yet significant shift in seating arrangements. The café, once a haven for shared conversations, now became a backdrop for the complexities of evolving emotions and unspoken truths.

Caught off guard by Jeonghyeon's unexpected action, (Y/n) couldn't help but voice her confusion. "Jeonghyeon, why did you...?"

Jeonghyeon, adopting a cocky tone and directing a subtle glare at Gunwook, interrupted, "Is there a problem with me sitting beside my best friend?" His words held a hint of possessiveness, and the atmosphere around the table became charged with unspoken tension.

Gunwook, trying to diffuse the situation with a light-hearted response, chuckled, "No problem at all. Just thought I'd switch things up a bit."

As they settled into their seats, the café became a stage for the unspoken dynamics and evolving emotions within their group. The undercurrent of tension hinted at the complexities woven into their friendship, and the uncharted territories of feelings seemed to stretch further as they navigated the nuances of shared connections and the subtle shifts that defined their evolving relationships.

As Gunwook continued to playfully push Jeonghyeon's buttons, he decided to bring up Hanbin, mentioning that he had seen (Y/n) with him earlier in the day. The words seemed to strike a chord with Jeonghyeon, causing him to tense up involuntarily.

Curious, Gunwook turned to (Y/n) with a mischievous grin. "So, (Y/n), tell us more about your day with Hanbin. What did you guys do?"

(Y/n), sensing the playful teasing but also picking up on Jeonghyeon's tension, began to share some details about her day. As she spoke, the subtle undercurrents of emotions became more pronounced.

Before he realized it, Jeonghyeon found himself reacting instinctively. In a surprising move, he put his arm around (Y/n)'s shoulder, a gesture that carried a hint of possessiveness. The atmosphere at the table shifted once again, the uncharted territories of their feelings now manifesting in tangible actions.

Gunwook, perceptive to the dynamics at play, raised an eyebrow at Jeonghyeon's unexpected move. The cafe, once a space for casual conversations, now became a stage for the unspoken tensions and evolving relationships within their group of friends.

Gunwook, ever the provocateur, couldn't resist stirring the pot further. With a sly smile, he turned to Jeonghyeon and asked, "So, Jeonghyeon, anything new happening in your love life lately?"

The question hung in the air, laden with an unspoken challenge. Jeonghyeon, who had just displayed a hint of possessiveness by putting his arm around (Y/n), now found himself on the spot. The tension at the table escalated, and the uncharted territories of their emotions seemed to stretch even further.

Jeonghyeon, his expression guarded, replied with a casual tone, "Not much. Just the usual stuff." Yet, the subtle shift in his demeanor hinted at the undercurrents of emotions he might be grappling with.

The café, once a place for shared laughter and camaraderie, now held a charged atmosphere. The dynamics among (Y/n), Jeonghyeon, and Gunwook continued to evolve, each question and response contributing to the intricate tapestry of their unfolding relationships.

Sensing that Jeonghyeon had reached his limit of reactions, Gunwook and (Y/n) decided to ease off their playful banter. The trio returned to their usual dynamic, engaging in lighthearted banter and shared laughter. The uncharted territories of their emotions, briefly explored during the teasing exchanges, now settled into a more familiar rhythm.

As they continued their time at the café, the camaraderie between (Y/n), Jeonghyeon, and Gunwook prevailed. The shared laughter, inside jokes, and the warmth of their friendship became the focal point once again, overshadowing the tension that had briefly punctuated their interactions.

The café, witness to the complexities of evolving relationships, returned to being a haven for shared moments and unspoken understandings. The trio, navigating the uncharted territories of their emotions, embraced the familiar comfort of their friendship, leaving the subtle nuances to linger beneath the surface until the next chapter of their shared journey unfolded.

In the days that followed the cafe incident, a subtle undercurrent of unspoken emotions lingered among the trio. No one mentioned the playful banter or the unexpected gestures from that day, and a delicate silence surrounded the topic.

Jeonghyeon, however, found himself grappling with a profound realization. In the quiet moments of self-reflection, he acknowledged that he was in love with (Y/n). The realization explained the unease he felt seeing her with other guys and the instinctive gestures of protectiveness that had surfaced during Gunwook's teasing.

The uncharted territories of Jeonghyeon's feelings now stretched before him, and the realization brought with it a mix of emotions—joy at the depth of his feelings for (Y/n), but also a sense of trepidation about how this might impact their friendship.

As the trio continued their routines, the unspoken tension persisted, creating an invisible thread that connected them in ways they had yet to fully understand. The cafe incident had become a catalyst, setting the stage for a journey through the complexities of friendship, unrequited love, and the delicate dance between what was spoken and what remained unsaid.

Determined to charm (Y/n) and explore the uncharted territories of their relationship, Jeonghyeon embarked on his plan with a newfound confidence. Step 1 involved a significant change in his style. Instead of the usual casual attire, he arrived at school dressed in ripped jeans and a slightly short t-shirt, strategically showcasing his well-defined abs.

As Jeonghyeon confidently approached (Y/n), he couldn't help but marvel at the subtle way she checked him out. The confident stride and the intentional shift in his appearance seemed to have caught her attention, creating a momentary pause in their usual interactions.

The unspoken tension that had lingered since the cafe incident now seemed to intensify, and the air around them crackled with the anticipation of what was unfolding. Jeonghyeon's plan to charm (Y/n) had begun, setting the stage for a journey through the uncharted territories of evolving emotions and the delicate dance between friendship and something more.

(Y/n), unable to conceal her admiration for Jeonghyeon's changed appearance, couldn't resist questioning him about his newfound style. "Jeonghyeon, what's with the new look? You look...different."

Jeonghyeon, wearing a playful smirk, responded with a touch of confidence, "Well, (Y/n), I decided I needed to match my clothes to my nice face. Figured it was time for a change."

His words, delivered with a hint of charm, carried a weight of unspoken intentions. The playful banter and shared laughter between them masked the subtle undercurrents of evolving dynamics. The uncharted territories of their friendship seemed to expand with each exchange, leaving (Y/n) to navigate the complexities of Jeonghyeon's intentional charm and the unspoken truths that lingered beneath the surface.

As (Y/n) found herself blushing in response to Jeonghyeon's playful charm and changed energy, she couldn't deny the shift in dynamics. While he remained the same person she had known throughout her entire life, there was an undeniable difference in his aura, a newfound energy that intrigued and captivated her.

Jeonghyeon's intentional charm seemed to have the desired effect, drawing (Y/n) into the uncharted territories of their evolving relationship. The unspoken tension that had lingered since the cafe incident now manifested in the subtle interactions between them, creating a delicate dance between friendship and the unexplored realm of something more.

As they continued their day, the unspoken truths and the evolving dynamics seemed to weave through their interactions, leaving (Y/n) to contemplate the shifts in her feelings and the complexities of the journey ahead with Jeonghyeon.

Internally elated by the positive response to his new style, Jeonghyeon felt a surge of satisfaction. The subtle changes in his appearance seemed to have the desired effect, drawing (Y/n) in and creating a shift in the dynamics between them. While he wanted to jump and cheer in triumph, Jeonghyeon maintained his cool and collected demeanor, matching the aura of his stylish outfit.

As they navigated the uncharted territories of their evolving relationship, Jeonghyeon found himself relishing the newfound energy between them. The day unfolded with shared moments, laughter, and a subtle undercurrent of unspoken emotions that added depth to their interactions.

The deliberate charm and the evolving dynamics hinted at a chapter of unexplored emotions and connections, leaving Jeonghyeon and (Y/n) to navigate the delicate dance between friendship and the possibility of something more, all within the backdrop of a carefully curated style that seemed to reflect the changing tides of their relationship.

With Step 2 of his plan underway, Jeonghyeon aimed to make subtle yet meaningful gestures that hinted at his growing feelings for (Y/n). His actions were intended to convey a deeper connection, creating a delicate dance between friendship and the uncharted territories of something more.

Jeonghyeon started by giving her small gifts, each carefully chosen to reflect their shared memories and inside jokes. These thoughtful tokens became a silent language of affection, weaving a thread of intimacy between them.

During lunch, Jeonghyeon took the initiative to pay for (Y/n)'s meal, a gesture that went beyond the boundaries of casual friendship. It was a subtle yet intentional act, a way of expressing his care and consideration in a manner that spoke volumes without the need for words.

Compliments flowed naturally from Jeonghyeon, his words carrying a sincerity that hinted at a deeper connection. The genuine admiration he expressed was meant to convey his growing appreciation for (Y/n) and the unique qualities that set her apart.

Small, loving touches became a significant part of their interactions, each one laden with unspoken emotions. A hand on her shoulder, a gentle brush against her arm – these subtle gestures spoke of a closeness that extended beyond the realm of friendship.

As Jeonghyeon continued to navigate the complexities of Step 2, the uncharted territories of their evolving relationship unfolded with each carefully chosen action, leaving (Y/n) to interpret the nuances of his intentions and the intricate dance between their shared history and the potential for something more.

As (Y/n) found herself on the receiving end of Jeonghyeon's newfound attention, she couldn't help but revel in the distinct change in dynamics. While he had always been attentive, this time it felt different — a shift that resonated in the depths of her being. The thoughtful gifts, the complimentary words, and the small, loving touches created a canvas of affection that painted their friendship with a hue of something more.

Her heart raced, and butterflies danced in her stomach, a symphony of emotions she couldn't ignore. The uncharted territories of their evolving relationship unfolded with each beat of her heart, and (Y/n) found herself navigating the delicate balance between the comfort of their longstanding friendship and the tantalizing possibility of a deeper connection.

The nuanced dance between them carried a shared history, a foundation of memories and laughter that had always defined their friendship. Yet, the subtle shifts in their interactions spoke of unspoken desires and emotions that hinted at the potential for a chapter beyond the boundaries of friendship.

Seated with Gunwook, the confidant who had shared the journey through the unfolding complexities of her relationship with Jeonghyeon, (Y/n) couldn't contain the swirl of emotions within her. She opened up about the subtle changes in Jeonghyeon's behavior, the thoughtful gestures, and the newfound attention that seemed to bridge the gap between friendship and something more.

"He's been different lately, Gunwook," (Y/n) confessed, her voice tinged with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "I mean, I've always known he cared about me, but these days it feels... different. Like there's an unspoken layer to our friendship."

Gunwook, perceptive to the nuances of their interactions, listened attentively. (Y/n) continued, "And it's not just the gifts or the compliments. It's the way he looks at me, the small touches. It's like he's trying to tell me something without saying it outright."

Understanding the delicacy of the situation, Gunwook offered a supportive presence. "Maybe he's figuring things out too, (Y/n). Emotions can be complicated, and sometimes it takes time for people to express what they truly feel."

Gunwook, always the insightful friend, proposed a proactive approach for (Y/n) to express her own feelings. "Why not try doing something that shows Jeonghyeon how special he is to you?" Gunwook suggested, his eyes reflecting a mixture of encouragement and wisdom. "Actions can speak volumes, and sometimes taking that step can help both of you navigate the uncharted territories of your feelings."

The idea lingered in the air, presenting (Y/n) with an opportunity to reciprocate the emotions that had been subtly woven into their friendship. As she contemplated the suggestion, the prospect of taking a step toward expressing her own sentiments added a layer of anticipation to the evolving dynamics with Jeonghyeon. The unspoken dance between them continued, each move carrying the potential to shape the narrative of their relationship in unexpected ways.

As (Y/n) stood in the hallway, engaged in conversation with Hanbin, Jeonghyeon walked in and immediately noticed the proximity between the two. An unfamiliar pang of discomfort gripped him, and a subtle tension manifested as he approached them.

With a determined stride, Jeonghyeon closed the distance, his expression guarded. The unspoken dynamics between (Y/n), Hanbin, and himself seemed to shift, creating an atmosphere charged with unexplored emotions.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Jeonghyeon questioned, his tone carrying a hint of possessiveness that mirrored the unease he felt at the sight of (Y/n) and Hanbin together. The hallway became a stage for the intricate dance between friendship, unspoken feelings, and the evolving connections that bound the three of them in a delicate web of emotions.

In response to Jeonghyeon's inquiry, (Y/n) quickly explained that Hanbin was merely trying to persuade her to join a club. However, sensing Jeonghyeon's unease and possessiveness, she couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in his demeanor.

Jeonghyeon, determined to prevent (Y/n) from joining the club with Hanbin, improvised a quick lie. "Oh, (Y/n) is actually the manager of the basketball team," he stated with a convincing tone, making sure to create a barrier between her and Hanbin's invitation.

As Jeonghyeon spoke, he found himself nervously holding (Y/n)'s hand, a gesture that seemed to happen almost instinctively. The touch, though subtle, spoke volumes, and (Y/n) felt her heart racing in response. The uncharted territories of their evolving relationship unfolded in the hallway, leaving them both to navigate the complexities of friendship, possessiveness, and the subtle expressions of unspoken feelings.

Hanbin, perceptive to the unspoken dynamics and the tension in the air, chose to accept Jeonghyeon's lie without pressing further. Perhaps sensing the underlying complexities, he decided not to challenge the narrative presented.

With a nod and a courteous smile, Hanbin acknowledged Jeonghyeon's words. "Got it, the basketball team, huh? Well, maybe some other time, (Y/n)," he said, opting not to push the matter any further.

As the moment unfolded, the hallway remained a stage for the intricacies of evolving relationships and unspoken truths. The lie, though a temporary solution, added another layer to the delicate dance between friendship, possessiveness, and the uncharted territories of feelings that lingered beneath the surface.

Overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, Jeonghyeon, driven by an impulse he couldn't contain, turned around abruptly and pushed (Y/n) gently against the wall. The suddenness of the action caught her off guard, and her eyes widened in surprise.

The hallway, now a witness to the unspoken tension that had been building, became an intimate space where the dynamics between Jeonghyeon and (Y/n) took center stage. His proximity added a layer of intensity, the air charged with the uncharted territories of their evolving relationship.

Jeonghyeon, his eyes searching (Y/n)'s face, seemed on the verge of saying something, but the weight of the unspoken emotions hung heavily between them. The unexpected moment became a poignant pause, leaving both of them to grapple with the intricacies of friendship, possessiveness, and the untamed territories of something more.

Feeling a rush of jittery emotions from Jeonghyeon's unexpected action, (Y/n) called out his name in an attempt to get his attention. Her concern for his well-being cut through the charged atmosphere, and her voice carried a mix of curiosity and care.

"Jeonghyeon," she said softly, a gentle question in her tone. The hallway, once witness to tension and unspoken dynamics, now held a moment of suspended connection between them. In the delicate dance of evolving relationships, (Y/n) sought to understand the motivations behind Jeonghyeon's sudden move and ensure that he, too, was navigating the uncharted territories of their feelings without stumbling.

Feeling the disconnect in Jeonghyeon's distracted gaze, (Y/n) gently placed a hand on his cheek, drawing his attention back to her. The touch seemed to ground him, and as his eyes met hers, the unspoken tension lingered in the air.

With a surge of confidence, Jeonghyeon broke the silence, his words carrying the weight of his revelation. "I'm in love with you," he confessed, the admission hanging in the air like a delicate thread that connected the uncharted territories of their evolving relationship.

The hallway, once a stage for subtle gestures and unspoken emotions, now became the setting for a pivotal moment. The complexities of their friendship, possessiveness, and the untamed feelings that had lingered beneath the surface were laid bare, leaving (Y/n) to navigate the intricacies of her own emotions in response to Jeonghyeon's vulnerable admission.

In response to Jeonghyeon's heartfelt confession, (Y/n) couldn't contain the warmth that blossomed within her. With a genuine smile, she revealed her own feelings, letting the unspoken emotions between them find a voice.

"I've been feeling the same way, Jeonghyeon," she admitted, her words echoing the shared journey through the uncharted territories of their evolving relationship. The hallway, witness to a series of nuanced moments, now held the echoes of their confessions, leaving them standing at the threshold of something more profound.

The charged atmosphere in the hallway intensified as Jeonghyeon's gaze flickered between (Y/n)'s eyes and her lips. Slowly, with a subtle determination, he leaned in, his desire evident in the inch of space that separated them. The unspoken tension hung in the air, a delicate dance of anticipation.

Just a centimeter away, Jeonghyeon whispered a hesitant invitation, "Push me away if you don't want this." Instead, (Y/n) responded by pulling him in, closing the gap until their lips finally met. The hallway, witness to a series of transformative moments, now became a backdrop for the shared connection that unfolded in the uncharted territories of their evolving relationship.

In that fleeting instant, the kiss spoke volumes, echoing the culmination of emotions that had simmered beneath the surface. The intricacies of friendship, the thrill of newfound feelings, and the shared journey through unexplored territories were encapsulated in the soft meeting of their lips, leaving them both suspended in the moment of a profound connection.

As the kiss ended, (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon locked eyes, emotions dancing in the shared gaze. The lingering intensity of the moment left them both in a state of suspended connection, the uncharted territories of their relationship now illuminated by the shared understanding between them.

A soft laugh escaped (Y/n)'s lips, breaking the quiet that had settled after the kiss. With a teasing tone, she addressed Jeonghyeon's earlier fabrication about her being the manager of the basketball team. "So, manager of the basketball team, huh? I guess that was just your way of keeping me away from Hanbin," she said, the laughter in her eyes mirroring the newfound understanding between them.

Jeonghyeon's blush deepened at (Y/n)'s teasing question, and with a shy smile, he hid his head in the nape of her neck. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer, as he muttered a response against her skin.

"Yeah, well, it worked, didn't it?" he admitted with a playful tone, the warmth of their closeness and the shared laughter creating a cocoon around them. The embrace spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the uncharted territories they had navigated together.

With the warmth of their shared laughter lingering, (Y/n) playfully asked Jeonghyeon if he would ever let her go so they could go to lunch. However, Jeonghyeon, reveling in the closeness they shared, expressed his reluctance to part ways.

"I don't want to," he admitted, a hint of a mischievous smile playing on his lips. The embrace tightened, and Jeonghyeon seemed content to linger in the hallway, savoring the newfound connection between them.

The shared laughter, the teasing exchange, and the embrace formed a tableau of unspoken emotions, capturing the essence of their evolving relationship. The uncharted territories they had explored together now held the promise of shared lunches and countless moments yet to unfold.

(Y/n)'s suggestion to find a more comfortable spot resonated with a practical charm. "How about we go sit down somewhere more comfortable?" she proposed, gently coaxing Jeonghyeon to release their embrace from the wall.

While Jeonghyeon liked the idea of settling into a more relaxed setting, he remained reluctant to let go of their warm embrace. The intimacy of the moment, the shared laughter, and the connection they had discovered in the hallway held a certain magic that he was hesitant to relinquish.

He hesitated for a moment, caught between the comfort of their current position and the promise of a more relaxed setting. The unspoken tension lingered as he considered the choice before finally, with a soft smile, he agreed, "Alright, let's find somewhere comfortable." The hallway, witness to the evolution of their relationship, slowly faded into the background as they embarked on the next chapter of their shared journey.

Jeonghyeon, leading (Y/n) to a quiet and surprisingly empty couch in the library, created a cocoon of intimacy where they could savor the comfort of each other's presence. Seated together, he pulled her close, their shared silence becoming a canvas for the unspoken emotions that filled the air.

In the tranquil atmosphere, Jeonghyeon broke the silence with a question that carried the weight of his feelings. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked, the vulnerability in his tone revealing the depth of his emotions. The library, usually a space of hushed whispers and rustling pages, now held the echo of a pivotal moment in their evolving relationship.

As (Y/n) met his gaze, the uncharted territories they had navigated together seemed to converge in this simple yet profound question. The quiet library became the backdrop for a decision that marked the beginning of a new chapter in their shared journey.

With a smile that mirrored the joy in Jeonghyeon's eyes, (Y/n) answered his question with a resounding "Yes." Their shared laughter, a soundtrack to the moment, filled the library with a warmth that transcended the quiet surroundings.

As Jeonghyeon beamed with happiness, (Y/n) couldn't help but tease him with a playful observation. "You might dress like a bad boy, but you truly are just a big walking teddy bear," she remarked, her laughter infusing the statement with affection.

The exchange captured the essence of their relationship — a blend of playful banter, shared laughter, and the discovery of the true nature that lay beneath the surface. The library, usually a sanctuary of knowledge, became a witness to the unfolding dynamics between Jeonghyeon and (Y/n), marking the beginning of their journey as a couple.

Jeonghyeon laughed heartily at (Y/n)'s playful comment, and in response, he tightened his embrace around her waist. Flexing his arms with a touch of humor, he added his own playful comment about his appearance.

"Well, you know, I can be pretty hot and sexy too," he quipped with a wink, the twinkle in his eye revealing a playful confidence. The banter continued, creating a lighthearted atmosphere that reflected the easygoing and affectionate nature of their evolving relationship.

(Y/n), with a teasing smile, couldn't resist poking fun at Jeonghyeon's potential jealous streak. "You can be pretty jealous too, can't you?" she remarked playfully, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Caught off guard, Jeonghyeon blushed a little and attempted to deny it, but (Y/n), ever the playful partner, decided to test the waters. She suggested, with a playful glint in her eye, that she should go sign up for that club Hanbin talked about.

Jeonghyeon, not keen on the idea, let out a playful groan and held (Y/n) tighter as if to keep her from going. With a grin, he admitted, "Well, I don't like Hanbin," adding a touch of possessiveness to his playful protest.

(Y/n), curious about Jeonghyeon's dislike for Hanbin, couldn't resist asking, "Why don't you like Hanbin?" Her question lingered in the air, prompting Jeonghyeon to share the underlying reasons behind his feelings.

Jeonghyeon, still holding (Y/n) close, considered his response for a moment before saying, "I don't know. It's just... I guess I don't like the idea of someone else trying to take you away from me." His words carried a hint of vulnerability, offering a glimpse into the possessive side of his feelings.

(Y/n)'s laughter, echoing through the library, caught Jeonghyeon's attention, prompting him to ask what was so amusing about his statement. Amused herself, (Y/n) shared the twist in the story.

"Hanbin," she explained with a teasing smile, "he's the one who made me realize I liked you." The revelation added a layer of irony to the situation, turning the tables on the dynamics between Jeonghyeon, (Y/n), and Hanbin.

Jeonghyeon's surprise was evident as he processed the unexpected turn of events. The library, once a quiet haven, now bore witness to the complexities of their evolving relationship, where laughter, teasing, and revelations intertwined in the journey through uncharted territories of the heart.

As Jeonghyeon reflected on the lie he had concocted to keep Hanbin at bay, a thought crossed his mind. He asked (Y/n) if she would be interested in making that lie a reality, suggesting that they could spend more time together if she took on the role he had fabricated.

"Would you be interested in being the manager of the basketball team?" he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes. The proposal, born out of a desire to have more shared moments, lingered in the air, leaving the library, usually a space of quiet contemplation, filled with the echoes of an invitation that held the promise of increased togetherness.

Caught in the playful banter, (Y/n) couldn't help but question Jeonghyeon's intentions behind the proposal. With a teasing smile, she asked, "Is this about spending more time together, or are you just trying to make sure no other guys can make a move on me?"

Jeonghyeon, maintaining a playful tone, responded by giving her a playful kiss before offering his answer. "Well," he began with a mischievous grin, "that's just a bonus. The real reason is so we can have more time together." The exchange, filled with laughter and light teasing, highlighted the lighthearted dynamics of their evolving relationship as they navigated the playful nuances of love and togetherness.

(Y/n)'s laughter continued, the playful banter creating a light and joyful atmosphere between them. In a sweet gesture, she gave Jeonghyeon a kiss on the cheek before finally agreeing to take on the role of the basketball team manager.

With a smile, she said, "Yes, I'll be the manager." The library, a silent witness to the evolving dynamics between Jeonghyeon and (Y/n), now held the echoes of laughter, teasing, and the shared decision that marked the beginning of a new chapter in their journey together.

Jeonghyeon wasted no time in putting his plan into action. The day after their playful discussion in the library, he approached the coach and shared his proposal. The coach, likely sensing the genuine enthusiasm behind Jeonghyeon's request, agreed to make (Y/n) the manager of the basketball team.

With the coach's approval, the stage was set for (Y/n) to take on a new role within the team. The basketball court, once a battleground for athletic prowess, now held the promise of shared moments and increased togetherness as (Y/n) embarked on her journey as the team manager. The library, with its silent shelves and quiet corners, played a role in the unfolding story of Jeonghyeon and (Y/n)'s evolving relationship, where every decision and every moment seemed to deepen the connection between them.

(Y/n), standing nervously in front of the group of boys, felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension as Jeonghyeon stood proudly beside her. His arm wrapped around her shoulder conveyed a protective and possessive stance. With a slight glare aimed at the other boys, Jeonghyeon introduced (Y/n) in a tone that left no room for misunderstanding.

"This is (Y/n)," he declared with a subtle emphasis, "my girlfriend and the new manager of the team." The announcement, laced with both pride and a hint of possessiveness, echoed through the basketball court. The dynamics within the team seemed to shift as the players acknowledged the new addition to their ranks.

As (Y/n) embraced her new role, the library, once a quiet sanctuary of knowledge, played its part in the unfolding chapters of their story. The shared decision to make (Y/n) the manager marked not only a new beginning for the basketball team but also a significant step forward in the journey of Jeonghyeon and (Y/n) as they navigated the intricacies of love and togetherness.

The relationship between (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon became a well-known and celebrated aspect of their high school life. The unmistakable displays of affection, particularly after basketball matches, became a tradition that drew the attention of everyone. Jeonghyeon, victorious in leading the team to success, would conclude each match with a celebratory kiss for his girlfriend.

Their affectionate gestures extended beyond the basketball court, as the couple embraced public displays of their love in the hallways of the school. Hugs and kisses became regular occurrences, marking the couple's journey through the halls hand in hand.

Their circle of friends, including Gunwook, Junghyun, Yunseo, and even Hanbin, took delight in teasing the couple about their unabashed displays of affection. The laughter and camaraderie among the friends reflected the supportive environment surrounding (Y/n) and Jeonghyeon as they navigated the joys and challenges of a public relationship. The school, once a backdrop to their shared memories, now held the echoes of a love story that unfolded openly and proudly in the midst of their high school journey.

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stevesharrlngtons · 4 years

Text

what i want.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: takes place in s1 of hemlock grove just after roman’s coma and the aftermath.

word count: 3.1k

a/n: yeaaahhhh so i know this is st related but it felt more right to post this here over my marvel account? anyways, i just really really wanted to write for roman and this poured out of me yesterday (which is surprising bc i can’t remember the last time i wrote a fic all in one day) but even though i already know this is gonna flop, i wanted to post it anyway just for fun (: i hope you enjoy and if you do read, please let me know that you think!!!!

With an ear pressed to his chest and a hand cradling his neck, you counted the rhythmic beats of his frail heart.

He looked the same, felt the same, smelt the same; but the man we lay still below you wasn’t Roman. Not in the metaphorical sense at least. This man who’s lashes lay gently against the apples of his cheeks obscuring his large doe eyes, wasn’t your love. He was still and quiet and lacked the emotion of your Roman. Your Roman who could never hide how he really felt, who wore every feeling on his sleeve, unable to mask his emotion.

At least, always around you.

A soft french ballad played in the background as you hunched over his hospital bed in the attic of the Godfrey home. You could hear the faint scratch of the needle against the vinyl, more so when there was a lull between songs.

Heavy footsteps entered from your right and you knew before they reached you that it was Shelly to fetch you for school.

“I know, Shell.” You said quietly, like you might wake Roman from his restless sleep if you spoke any louder, “I just need a few more minutes with him.”

The tall girl loomed over you both, watching you stroke Roman’s cheek lovingly with your thumb, the rest of your nimble fingers still holding his thin neck.

She had never experienced the kind of unequivocal and palpable love that she did when she observed you and Roman together. She often wondered if all the tales of true love and soulmates that were regaled in some of her favorite novels were actually true? Because the way you looked at Roman, and the way Roman looked at you, could not be fabricated or faked.

After a long beat of silence, Shelly gripped her phone and typed out a simple message to you.

“I miss him, too.”

She could see tears forming in your eyes once more. Your eyes that seemed to have not ceased their perpetual filming for the last two weeks Roman had been under.

All you could was nod in response. When Shelly placed a dense hand on your shoulder, you silently wept.

It all felt so surreal. But Roman was always larger than life, you probably should have prepared for something like this. You were just so scared.

That night two weeks before, when he had come to you in the pouring rain, drenched to the bone, you had been scared then, too. Roman was dramatic, yes. But never anything like this. He trembled fiercely and his fingers twitched and his muscles rippled with fear.

He didn’t seem himself as you wrapped him in blankets and placed him in your bed to warm his icy bones. You had wound your arms around him as he cried into your neck, tears and snot streaking your skin as you soothed him the best you could.

“I’m ugly, I’m a monster, I am unlovable and disgusting.” He chanted between hiccups and deep intakes of breath, like he was under a spell.

“Please stop, please don’t say that. You’re not, you’re not, you’re not. I love you, I always will.” You whispered sincerely to him, beginning to shutter yourself at the uncharatieric behavior he was displaying.

He startled you even more when he grasped your wrists together with one hand and flipped you onto your back, meeting you with a fierce kiss before you could comprehend his actions.

It was all teeth and tongue and labored breathing as Roman pulled your strings in only the way that he could. Once he was inside you, he only became more brutal. It was more pain than pleasure as he looked at you with soulless eyes and his mouth agape. But everything Roman was, was good. Even now he felt like heaven.

When he had finished and pulled two orgasms from your body, he collapsed on top of you. You cocooned him with your limbs, whispering loving words and frightened questions as his body seemed to pass out from sheer emotional exhaustion, anchoring you beneath him.

The next morning, you were dressed in nothing but Roman’s cardigan and tucked underneath your duvet with no knowledge of his departure the night before.

It was only minutes after you woke that Olivia called to curtly inform you of Roman’s condition.

You placed your own hand, the one not holding Roman, over Shelly’s and squeezed it.

“He is so lucky to have you.” You said, swallowing thickly to look up and give Shelly a smile, “He loves you so much, I know he’ll wake just for you.”

Shelly knew you were trying to soothe her as well, something you had a knack for since you came into the two Godfrey’s lives. She appreciated it greatly, but wished you would let yourself swim and stop trying to make sure she stayed afloat.

“You, as well. He will wake for us.” Shelly typed and you squeezed her hand in a tight pulse.

“We can only hope.”

You dropped Shelly’s hand as she went to turn the music off while you kissed Roman goodbye.

“Where, today?” Came Shelly’s mechanical voice as the music ceased.

“His left eyelid.” You replied, standing up and stroking Roman’s porecelain cheek.

You had taken to kissing a new part of Roman each day as you left him. To cherish him even while his mind was missing. You were saving his lips for when he woke, hoping his subconscious would crave your mouth on his enough to jar him from his slumber. Roman was never quiet about his appreciation for your lips.

“And tomorrow?” She asked.

“The other.”

As you sat in english class, you couldn’t help but feel Peter’s absence in the seat next to yours. With neither him nor Roman around, you felt off kilter. The boys had been going through a rough patch lately, but Peter was still your friend when Roman wasn’t looking. Giving you winks that would reply with an eye roll, and chatting between classes. You believed you could mend the fence between the two men by simply being Switzerland, but after the police incident, Peter wasn’t so sure.

But you and Roman were alike in many ways, you told Peter as much.

“You two will work this out. Even if it gets hard.” You say flippantly one day as you rummaged through your purse for a tube of lipgloss.

“Yeah? And how do you know? Are you an oracle and just haven’t told me?” Peter jokes as you take the cosmetic from your bag.

You remove the fuzzy doe-foot applicator from the pink make up with a loud squelch and smirk at him.

“Because not only do I know everything,” a swipe of the goods on your lips, “But, I always get what I want.”

Now, his absence along with Roman’s seemed to be significant. Connected.

And then you got a call.

And the ID almost gave you a heart attack.

You fled the classroom without the formality of an excuse. It wasn’t any secret that you and Roman were a couple, so some teachers had been far more lenient with you since he had fallen under. Thankfully, Ms. Day was one of them.

You ran from the class and around the corner for the veil of privacy before you picked up the call.

“Roman?”

“God, how I’ve missed your voice.” He said, punctuated with his melodic laugh.

You burst into tears, clenching your phone tightly in your sweating palm as Roman cooed to you.

“Hey, hey, no. No tears, baby. Too fucking hot to be sad, you know that?”

“I’m not sad, God no! These are tears of joy, of fucking relief.” You felt suddenly very fatigued from the worry and dread escaping your body at the sound of Roman’s voice, and slid down the wall to the grey linoleum below.

“Good, hate to think you’d forget about me after two weeks out of commission.” You could see his smile in your minds eye and your stomach twinge with love.

“You know I could never forget about you.” You replied, whipping your damp cheeks on the back of your hand.

“I’m glad. I was counting on it.” You can see his smirk now.

“Dick.” You laughed and he did as well.

“Eh, you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

There was a silence and you wished so helplessly that he was in your arms. Your Roman. Not the still and sterile one. The one with a wicked tongue and a beautiful smile that he offered to you so freely.

It was in this silence though, that you heard the purr of an engine.

“Baby, are you in a car? Are you with Olivia?”

“Uh, no. Not exactly.” And the bubble of joy popped just as it had formed.

“Roman, where are you? Why are you in a car?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, my love.” He hummed quietly his adoration and immediately you knew what was happening.

“Put Peter on the phone.”

“How did you-”

“Just fucking do it, Roman.”

You could hear him curse, then the shuffle of the phone being passed between hands.

“Hey, (Y/N/N), how’ya doin’?” Peter asked, faking a calm tone.

“Let’s forget the goddamn pleasantries, Peter. What in the living fuck are you doing trying to track this wolf when Roman just rose from the dead?”

“Rose from the dead sounds a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Does it sound like I give a shit?”

“Frankly, no. It doesn’t.”

“And what does it sound like I give a shit about?”

“Probably Roman not doing this right now.”

“Bingo, Fiddo. Now you either take him back to his house or I am coming to find you two and I promise you, I can be scarier than Olivia.” You hissed into the receiver, looking around to make sure no rouge students in the halls were hearing your conversation.

“Oh I don’t doubt it. But this was his choice, (Y/N). Nothing neither of us can do anything to change his mind.”

“Peter, I swear to-” This time, you were the one cut short.

“Baby, listen,” Roman said after commandeering his phone back.

“No, Roman, you listen! I know you have some attachment to helping kill this thing, but now isn’t the time.”

“But it is. It’s complicated, but you just have to trust me on this.”

“I do trust you, Ro. I do. But I don’t trust whatever this thing is.” You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall, “Unfortunately I do trust what it is capable of. Which is a fuck tone pain.”

“I’ll be safe. I have Peter, Peter’s got me. I got this. We know what we’re doing.”

“Wish I could believe that.”

“Baby, I promise. I swear, even. We are gonna find some answers and then I’ll be home to you in one piece.”

You pause and Roman calls your name from the phone, his voice vulnerable.

“It’s funny. This morning you were in a coma and you were more safe then than you are right now.”

“I love you.” Roman says firmly.

“I know.”

Another pause and you know you can’t scold your way out of this one.

“Just… please call me when you get back. I don’t think I can take another minute of being away from you.” Your tears were beginning again.

“Me too. You’re all I can think about,” Roman sniffles, “I need you, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both sit in silence on the line before Roman tells you he needs to go.

“Ok… but hey, Turner?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Hooch to be careful. Both of you just… be careful.”

“Always.”

And the line goes dead.

After school you debated going straight to the Godfrey residence to wait for Roman to return, but decided against it. You weren’t sure exactly what Olivia knew and didn’t know, and didn’t feel like being alone with her while you figured it out.

So, you waited anxiously in your bedroom, doing everything possible to quell your shaking nerves. You had a perpetual tremor in your body as fiddled with your phone to try and distract yourself. Which was partly true, the other reason your phone was glued to your palm was so you would know the second Roman contacted you.

Though, as the sun descended in the sky and the night sky spanned for hours, you were becoming more restless. Whatever Peter and Roman were doing was no doubt dangerous and time sensitive, and it made you sick that it was nearing midnight without any word from either boy.

As the night continued to wear on and your mind ran away from rationality into an amalgamation of pure fear and absurdity, you decided you couldn’t sit around anymore. You weren’t going to wait for Roman to call and tell you he was home safe. You were going to drive to his house and wait for him there, and if he wasn’t back in an hour, you’d go out looking for him yourself.

As you put on a pair of house slippers and a sweatshirt over your nightgown, your phone vibrated on your vanity. Your heart began to speed up in your chest as you rushed over to the table and picked up your buzzing phone. On the screen was a text alert from Roman, with only one word present:

Come.

And you didn’t need to be told twice.

When you arrived at the Godfrey’s, you fled your car so quickly you almost forget the keys in the ignition. You ran up the front steps and banged both fists on the door needing to use your excess anxiety and adrenaline for something. And while you didn’t want to face Olivia’s wrath, your judgment was clouded by the chance of seeing Roman, alive and well.

When Roman finally opened the door, you wasted no time throwing yourself into his arms. He stumbled at the impact of your embrace, but was quick to remedy his shock by wrapping his arms around you. The feeling of this made your throat constrict.

“Jesus fucking Christ I missed you.” Roman all but growled as he firmly smoothed flyaways from your hair and placed his strong hand on the back of your neck.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, Ro.” You said, voice thick with tears as you began to pepper kisses anywhere you could reach.

Neck, jaw, ear, temple, cheek, shoulder, trap, clavicle, repeat.

Roman groaned appreciatively in your ear as you covered him in your lips.

“You scared me half to death you know?” You said between kisses.

“I know, I’m sorry. Things have been… odd. I still can’t remember it all.” Roman says, his tone confused.

“Well, Olivia said-”

“I know what she said. I just don’t know if I believe it.”

You furrowed your brows and tried to wiggle in his hold, silently signaling for Roman to place you back on your feet, but he only gripped you tighter.

“Not yet. Just, stay a while.” His voice wavered.

You finally pulled back to look at him, his eyes red from tears and shadowed. Sometimes it was difficult to look at him, his beauty and pain were just too much.

“I’m staying, Roman. You couldn’t get me to leave if you wanted to.” You reply.

A wash of emotion washes over his features as his lip quivers and his eyes attempt to blink back tears. You opened your mouth to try and alleviate him of whatever he was feeling when his mouth crashed to yours.

You forgot how good his lips felt against yours as your mouths meshed together. The velvet of his tongue and the mint and smoke on his breath. His hands gripping you everywhere as he pressed you impossibly close, moaning into you with deep primal noises sounding from his chest.

“Roman, baby,” You pulled away for air and Roman promptly moved his attention to your neck and clavicle. “I need you. Take me upstairs, I can’t wait any longer.”

Roman groaned and bit you hard on the shoulder before hitching your legs higher on his hips and running you both up the winding staircase behind him.

Bruises, at the behest of his mouth and fingers, littered your body as you lay on Roman’s chest as you both still reeled in the blissful aftermath of your climaxes. Roman’s fingers idled along and spine while his unoccupied hand rested behind his head.

He had begun to tell the tale of his night, of Peter and the turn and Chasseur and his mother. He told you Peter was upstairs unconscious and that he was unsure what was going to happen when he woke.

“So, after all this, everything’s still shitty? Is that what you’re saying?” You muttered.

“Essentially. But I have hope… we’re going to figure this out. I know it.” Roman nodded, like he is reassuring himself more than you.

“Me too. You two are smart,”

“You flatter me.” Roman chuckles and looks down at you.

“Just trying to butter you up to get into your pants.” He laughs again and slaps your ass.

“Clearly it’s working.” He replies.

“Well that, and I always get what I want.” You say with a content smile.

Roman hums, “Don’t I know it.”

“You enable it.”

“Again, I know.” He kisses your forehead and you burrow closer to him.

You two lay in silence a bit longer before he sighs.

“I think we should move to sleep in the attic. Just in case something happens with Peter and he needs us.”

We. Us.

The small implication in his word choice makes you smile and once again fall under a wave of emotion, just so happy that your Roman was back to you.

You don’t know what you had done if there was no we or us with Roman any longer. But you choose to not fixate on the past.

You just nod and kiss the underside of his chin. Roman gives you a small grin and begins to get up. As you do the same, Roman throws you one of his white button downs, giving you a stern look as you raise an eyebrow in question.

“Just put it on. I got two weeks to make up for, baby. It started with reuniting, then fucking, and now you in my shirt.”

You try to hold off the wide smile that was threatening to take over your face and put on the shirt, buttoning it to just above your cleavage.

“Yeah? And what’s next?” You ask, watching Roman round the bed toward you.

“Sleep.”

Now in a pair of threadbare silk pajama pants and nothing more, Roman extends his hand to you.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.” You reply, taking his hand, weaving your fingers as he led you to the attic.

i hope you enjoyed even though it was for a different show!! and if you did, pls i’d love some feedback (:::: also let me know if you would possibly want another roman fic bc i have other ideas lol

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dirthavarens · 4 years

Text

The Shrine;; Solavellan

Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Characters: Mirani Lavellan, Solas Relationship: Solavellan Rating: General Audience Warnings: None Word Count: 1420 Notes: First time posting real fic in a while. I hope you enjoy!

The Exalted Plains were beautiful save the name and history of violence and bloodshed. Dirthavaren is what the Dalish called them, a much warmer title that resonated within the confines of Mirani Lavellan’s heart. Deep within was the lair of wyverns and a high dragon that laid slain, bones carried away for armor, and what remained was picked clean by ravenous wildlife.

Mirani found a peculiar piece within Ghilan’nain’s Grove that lie just beyond the great beast’s nest and wondered how she had not seen it sooner. A sizeable and detailed shrine dedicated to a god of treachery and madness stood in carved stone. Most Dalish elves were content to carry only a small fetish and only for superstitious purposes.

“I’ve never seen something so monumental dedicated to Fen’Harel,” she mused as she placed her palm upon the stone. It was warm from the sunlight and smooth beneath her touch with the exception of the intricate pattern carved into the body. “Surely it’s tucked away for some reason. Maybe due to the possible implications?”

Wolves were not uncommon in her people’s history, as tales of the creatures never leaving the side of the one with which they were bonded. Faithful to the last, were the wolves to the elves. But those statues were large and tame, content to gaze and guard. The wolves locked in stone before her howled soundlessly upward, forever crying out to the heavens.

“And what implications do you infer?” It was Solas who spoke, but her eyes did not break from the design upon the wolves’ bodies. Their shared interest in the Fade and all things related to the true elves of Arlathan had bonded them from the very beginning of the Inquisition. She took comfort in his voice being the one to urge her further. Though, she swore she heard a note of apprehension lining his tone.

“I would say worship, but it’s hard to think of the Dread Wolf being the subject of such things if the tales ring true, though I’ve never placed much faith in the stories of my people. Maybe it’s a warning to those who venture so deeply into the Grove or maybe it’s a memorial. The Veil feels thinner and there’s room here for something. An eluvian?”

The spellbound mirrors were a well-kept secret of the old elves that served as doorways between areas. Traces of them laid derelict in the Fade and she saw them only in dreams during her early travels in the Free Marches. The one that would fit in the space between the wolves would have had to have been massive. She took a step back and looked quizzically at the architecture. The stairs that led to the shrine would only serve as more evidence to her initial conjecture.

“An eluvian?” Solas repeated. “You have knowledge of such things?”

“A little,” Mirani began with a smile, still astonished by the shrine. “What remains of the true Elvhen is little and the Dalish only seek to covet it, hide it away from the world. With more eyes and minds turned toward the history, we could learn more than ever. Leliana believes that Briala knows of at least two working eluvians and uses them to move her spies undetected from place to place.”

A hum of approval sounded from beside her as Solas stepped closer, his gaze now turned to the shrine as well. “It is refreshing to hear a Dalish voice so openly willing to admit such a thing. They claim to be true elves, but hoard and squander what they find. Knowledge should be shared to all ears, not guarded with abject hostility.”

“Though I come from a Dalish clan, Solas, you know I don’t consider myself Dalish. My clan tolerated my magic because the first to the Keeper was old enough to train me and when I was old enough, I was content enough to keep myself far from camp. I spent most of my time in search of ruins that might hold more knowledge,” she explained, ensuring that she kept the bitter taste in her mouth from soiling her words. “Occasionally, they would listen to what I learned but if anything challenged the old stories of the Creators it was immediately shut down.”

Despite her low opinion on her clan, Mirani was thankful that she had been permitted to stay among them. Most Dalish kept no more than two mages in their clan to prevent possible abominations from spawning and those two mages were always at the head of the clan. Elves were intrinsically tied to the Fade, the magic in their blood as old as time. To be punished for having that gift hardly made sense to her.

“My apologies, vhenan. My own interactions with the Dalish have been largely negative to say the least. Perhaps if I had met you earlier, I could have shared my knowledge with you.”

She turned her attention to Solas and saw the shadow of forlorn familiarity as he gazed upon Fen’Harel’s shrine. Such pain dwelt behind his eyes and Mirani could only think to amount it to the stories he possessed of the ancient elves. The glittering city of Arlathan, towering in the sky like a brilliant jewel. Despite being tied closely to the Fade, she could only imagine what he had seen in his journeys.

“You’re here now,” she returned softly. “That’s what matters.”

He blinked slowly, the amaranthine sorrow returning to its secret place within him, and turned his head in her direction. “As are you and so long as you’re willing to listen, I will share all that I know.”

“Have you ever found any traces of Fen’Harel in your travels into the Fade?”

Solas turned to her, the pelt upon his armor shifting slightly as his staff brushed it. There was a muted hesitation in him that would have been imperceptible to most members of the inner circle, but Mirani caught it in a fleeting glimpse.

“Some say his pride was too great, that he locked away the Gods to hold power of them and be the only immortal to roam free,” he started. “As you know from the tales of the Dalish, he was perceived as a monster more than a man--an enemy bearing the face of a friend, at the ready with a knife behind his back. The truth, I fear, is much more complicated. It would be easier had he simply been the malefactor all claimed him to be. He stood defiant against the pantheon, saw their misdeeds against the Elvhenan, and presumably sought a way to free them from their masters.”

Mirani returned her gaze to the wolf statues as she listened to him speak and tried to imagine the hellish fiend as something more complex, something softer, something solitary and wise and helpful. Solas continued.

“The echoes of long forgotten memories cry out his name in terror as Arlathan crumbled and the world was torn asunder. Magic left the earth as he locked away both the Forgotten Ones and the so-called Creators, the Veil holding back all that the elves were.”

“But why erect the Veil?” The question left her lips before she had time to consider the possibility of him not knowing.

“What I have found in the Fade suggests that he was attempting to keep the pantheon from destroying the world in their ceaseless lust for power and control. The people suffered a great deal from the actions of their leaders, as they often do when power is placed in the wrong hands. And in his desperate foolishness creating the Veil, the Dread Wolf caused the very world he fought against.”

They stood silent for a time. Mirani swallowed the sorrow that welled in her throat as she drowned in the imagery of the tale. She looked to the howling head of the wolf and wondered how terrible of a burden that must be. It was her every fear, to fail those who needed her protection, to fail the elves, to fail the mages, to fail herself.

She reflected a moment on his words and closed her eyes. The face she needed to place upon the Dread Wolf was not one in need of creation, but one she knew so intimately that it made her stomach drop. So visceral were his details that she could no longer keep herself blinded by self-imposed ignorance.

“It must be a heavy burden to bear,” she said after another few minutes of silence.

“It is indeed, vhenan.”

#my writing #solavellan #dragon age #dai #solas #lavellan #mirani lavellan

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mychemicalficrecs · 4 years

Note

Hiya! Not sure if you do this, but would you be able to suggest some non-ao3 finished frerard fics? It seems I've read ao3's entire collection 😅 Thank you so much, you're honestly my favourite blog on here xx

Thanks for your kind words, Nonny! And... congratz on reading the entire ao3 tag, there are a lot of works there :D

Frank/Gerard is such a popular ship that I was actually able to find quite a lot from outside ao3.

Non-AO3 Frank/Gerard

Thing-Thing by sinsense, 43k, NC-17. When Gerard signed the admissions paperwork for the Fordhaven School for Boys, he knew he was signing up for four years of sexual frustration. No one was gay at Fordhaven. Gerard was all-too-aware that he would be a virgin until he graduated. In his senior year, though, this stupid gay freshman disproves Fordhaven's straightness, and throws Gerard's entire world off-kilter. Now, in between drawing, avoiding bullies, running an incredibly serious tabletop RP game, failing out of math, and hanging out with friends, Gerard is also busy kind of falling for this asshole who's way too young for him. It's not what he planned on, but it's what's happening. In conclusion: high school sucks.

I Think I Thought (I Saw You Try) by thatsfinewithus, ~3,000, NC-17. Welcome to some weird AU world in which Gee only does awesome comics and Frank is a vampire.

They Came From Outer Jersey! by thatsfinewithus, 25k, R. New London Fire is an elite fringe government force assigned the task of protecting the earth from some of its more interesting threats: those from beyond the atmosphere or even the universe. They've handled dangerous cases before, but they've never seen anything like...ZOMBIES FROM SPACE. Vampires, long hunted in lore and legend, are now the earth's only saviors. There is little information as to who sent the creatures until Mikey Way, head of the NLF, finds out more by being abducted. Is it too late for him? Is it too late for the earth? Find out how six vampires, one government general, and one frustrated comic book artist save the earth in...THEY CAME FROM OUTER JERSEY!!

I never told you what I do for a living. by not0_fuckin_kay, 60k+, PG-13 to NC-17. Frank Iero, male nurse at Pete Wentz's private hospital and possibly more to one new patient he can't keep his eyes off of. When a new pateint is brought in with amnesia, just days before Christmas, and with nothing but the clothes on his back and a strange drawing, it's left to Frank to find out who he is and what happened to him. When he does, it changes Frank's life forever, as he's thrust into love and health scares he never thought would complicate his life. This is the story of how he tries to make it through, juggling his job and his love-life and just trying to make things better. With Patrick the doctor, Bob the ward supervisor, Travis the unlikely therapist, and Mikey, the sometimes wannabe homicidal geek.

Of All The Hidden Corners by moneyes, ~44K, PG-13. An epic, adventurous tale filled with alternate universes, lords, mischief, magical powers, snark, boyfriends, and luck of the bad kind.

All We Are by lightisbreaking, 21k, R. Set in the future, where humans are on the brink of evolution. For the select few born with a special awareness of their own minds - an awareness which gives them abilities beyond the norm, life is suddenly a very dangerous thing. Frightened of what this could mean, the government set out to make this new race of humans extinct, telling the public that these people are mentally unstable defectives and must be kept under observation for the safety of the public. All of this brings together a rather odd troupe of people, hiding from the government and eventually having to protect one of their own when he's taken into custody. Superpowers AU!

Tell Us a Story by bexless, imogenedisease, 32k, NC-17. The world as these kids know it is ending, and Gabe Saporta is throwing the party. High school AU based on the movie Can't Hardly Wait.

Stay Right Here by idktbh, swagneto, 28k, R. Frank is involved in an accident which renders him paralyzed from the waist down. When Frank begins to withdraw into himself, his relationship with Gerard crumbles and the band faces the hardest decision they'll ever make: whether to continue playing or not. This is a story about how MCR copes with the biggest obstacle of their career so far.

Return to Spirit Lake by inpurity, 22k, R. Gerard Way has left Spirit Lake when he was eighteen to study to become a veterinary surgeon, and with no intention of ever coming back. Twelve years later he is back, carrying secrets of a life spent away from his family and friends, and the weight of a dark, painful sorrow. His old home town has not changed, but his life, and the lives of the people he will meet along the way, will never be the same.

These Friday Night Lights by faux-disco-sins, 21k, PG-13. Gerard is the head cheerleader and wears the cheer skirt, Frank is on the football team, Pete is the school mascot, Ryan is the school’s hobo journalist, Jon does photography for the yearbook, Spencer and Patrick are in the marching band, Gabe and Ray are AV techs who do a ESPN spin-off for the school, Bob is the big scary lineman, and Mikey tries to fit in while ignoring the fact that his older brother is wearing a skirt in public.

Of Love And Superpowers by mcrnut, 20k, NC-17. Seventeen year old Frank Iero is in his last year at Mutant High. He has a couple of good friends, is doing okay in school and even though he has some issues with his Mother, life is pretty great. That is, until one day, when he overhears some of the professors talking about the well-known Anti-Mutant organization HSA and how they have already broken into two Mutant Academies and are heading their way. Frank and his friends have to stick their heads together and try to solve the mystery, and as if Frank didn't have enough to think about already, he finds himself falling for his friend's older brother, Gerard.

Cypress Grove by slashxyouxup, 24k+, NC17. My Chemical Romance fight off a town of sperm hoarding, men hating, PMSing maniac women in order to save themselves from certain doom! Also, Frank and Gerard get closer than close while pretending to not be completely in love with each other. Mikeyway is not amused.

Sleepwalker by lyrical_tragedy, 73k, NC-17. Frank Iero is one of the best cops in New Jersey so it’s only natural that his boss dumps a seemingly unsolvable case on him and his colleague Bob Bryar. With no leads whatsoever Frank enlists the help of Gerard Way, a reclusive young man who experiences strong visions and dreams of events from the past and visions of the future. However, none of them could ever begin to expect the terrifying chain of events that come into play once they delve deeper into the unknown, questioning Frank’s very beliefs on what the world actually holds. A story of visions, sacrifices, over protective brothers and love all in the midst of the attempted destruction of the world. The devil’s got your number and he will come calling, until it’s nothing more than hell on earth.

Patience Is A Virtue (You Might Be Good Looking, But You Can’t Sleep With Yourself Tonight) by eflorentino, 22k, NC-17. Frank Iero’s biggest hero is Gerard Way; the outspoken, obnoxious lead singer of the multi-platinum selling band My Chemical Romance. His world changes completely when he finds himself suddenly shoved into the limelight, playing sell-out shows every night and earning more than his usual $6 an hour. However, the infamously homophobic frontman isn’t what Frank expects, and after mixed signals and unsolved revelations he learns that, with Gerard Way, things are never simple.

But Nobody Cares If You're Losing Yourself by red_ones_fly, 16k, NC-17. It took me a while to work out that there was something wrong with Gerard, he kept it hidden well and, really, he didn’t even know something was wrong with him. To him it seemed like normal, everyday stuff. He never found any of his behaviour out of the ordinary. To him it was just reality.’ After Gerard's grandma passes away his behaviour becomes strange. He becomes less outgoing and more paranoid. As Frank tries to work out what’s going on with his friend/love interest, between school, learning psychology and dealing with the jocks, he doesn’t realise just how bad it is.

Parks and Recreation by vinvy, 35k+, PG-13. Gerard Way is an art school drop out with no prospects, student loans to pay off, and a dead end job. His mother works too hard and his little brother Mikey is keeping secrets. His boss runs shady contracts and smiles too much. It's nothing special and he tells himself that he'll learn to make peace with that- in the meantime he's got to carve out a living that doesn't involve artwork. Really, he's going to be okay. Then a crazy homeless kid comes along and screws up Gerard's Adventures in Normal Employment with his hippie magic and soulless eyes. Gerard can't shake the feeling that this guy "isn't quite right" but he's too busy fending off the freak accidents that are following him around to worry about that particular winged freak.

Empire Boys by noctecaelum, 30k, NC-17. In the city that never sleeps, it's tough to get your foot in the door. While Gabe Saporta may find it easy to blend into the socialite scene; Gerard Way spends his day blending eyeshadow at Bloomingdales. As newcomer Frank triumphs in Women's Lingerie, Gerard sparks a bitter rivalry in the vicinity of Lexington and 59th; but there's no use crying over spilt coffee because things are about to fire up. Meanwhile, on the Upper East Side, Gabe Saporta is none too pleased to read a socialite-bashing article, but when confronting the writer, he doesn't expect to meet fresh faced, pretty-boy William Beckett, who turns out to be the biggest tease this side of the Downtown Dunkin' Donuts.

The Evolution Index by theficisalie, 32k, NC-17. In a world where superpowers are just another thing that can get you sent to boarding school, Frank Iero and his friends know what it's like to operate under heavy levels of stress. After all, they did spend their formative years under the wings of the United States Government's most widespread and successful initiatives; a program that was created to protect and train young Americans with superpowers to become functioning members of society. And, as a side-benefit, the government realized that not only were telepaths great at taking drink orders, but they could also be trained to be highly successful secret agents. Under the guidance of Frank's volatile and (literally) power-hungry boyfriend Gerard Way; Frank, Mikey Way, and Ray Toro are an accomplished team of super spies. When a handful of people from Frank's sordid past crop up during an investigation of rash Superhuman disappearances across the country, the team finds themselves challenged both on and off the field as they fight to solve the mysteries plaguing their beloved nation. Frank knows all too much about uncovering things that he'd rather keep hidden, but can he and his team unravel the intricate web of crime and kidnapping surrounding Chicago without losing themselves in the process?

A Good Ocean Gone Wrong by xoxxblitz7, 32k, NC-17. Titanic AU - The Way's are one of the richest families in America and sometimes being an artist requires the need to travel. On the doomed maiden voyage of Titanic old friends are found, new love is formed and put to the test and the most luxurious crossing of the Atlantic ocean becomes a fight for survival.

A Fanfiction (In Which Gerard Has A Secret Stash of Star Wars Fanfiction) by sparklefap, 10k, R. Frank finds Gerard's bizarrely erotic Star Wars fanfiction, and is both disturbed and aroused by it. Those feelings won't do for Frank. He seeks revenge.

#frank/gerard #frerard #fic rec list

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obutsuwrites · 5 years

Text

A Little Wicked (overhaul x reader)

Summary: “Are you denying yourself your innermost wishes? Do you not quiver for my touch?” Overhaul countered, his gruff voice shrewd. The sorcerer tried to hide his morbid pleasure. Lips curled into a lustful grin. The knot in his stomach was hot. Touch-starved fingertips excited.

warnings: non-con~!

word count: 3,460 xxx basically a self-indulgent overhaul smut fic~! oops,,

my ao3 for more shitposts

my ask box is also always open 4 requests or wateva

Notes:

numinous (adj.) - describing an experience that makes you fearful yet fascinated, awed yet attracted--the powerful, personal feeling of being overwhelmed and inspired

nemophilist (n.) - a haunter of the woods; one who loves the forest and its beauty and solitude

The young adventurer navigated through the overgrown forest, screeches of owls echoed over head; sounds of nature after dark. Thick trees obscured the woman’s vision. Mother nature was finally reclaiming lost land. However, this particular forest held a secret as precious as new life. A powerful sorcerer was said to inhabit this jungle of trees and predators. She knew man-eating animals roamed this land. The woman had grown up on heroic tales of would-be heroes besting creatures of the night. Heroism. Adventure. Glory. Tales she idolized. Titans of old seemed almost god-like to her. Abilities she had prayed for every night. However, her pleas fell upon deaf ears.

After enduring this for years, she realized she must manifest her own destiny. The allure of magicks too tempting for her quest. She knew it was wrong. No respectable explorer had stood on the back of giants. No. They started small; stories eventually amassing to celebrity. Folk tales repeated for generations. The ultimate means of being remembered, she acknowledged. Mortality no longer applied to them. They gained immortality through legends.

The young woman sighed. The lantern was her only light source in the decrepit grove. Thick roots ran along the leaf scattered earth. She had already tripped once, her lantern almost shattering. Tonight, even the moon hid. Just like the predators. The hoot of owls were the only sound in the moonlight. She wondered if the fabled Sorcerer of the Forest even existed. The tales of him on par with legends of heroics. Was it possible the man didn’t exist? The land showed no sign of recent travel. Untamed earth.

She stopped. The sudden thirst hit her senses. Her mouth was like the desert. Quickly, slender hands grasped the gourd that sat upon a leather belt. The woman drank deeply; water trickling down exposed flesh. After a swallow, oxygen-starved lungs greedily inhaled. Earth and pine wafted through her nostrils.

Suddenly, a twig snapped behind her. The rhythmic pounding of her heart threatened to leap out from her bosom. Primal fear seeped into her body. Goosebumps painted into her skin. The dame paused, her hand at her side, clutching the gourd.

Breathe, she told herself, You are brave.

“Who is t-there?” The explorer called, her tone momentarily faulting. Anxiety ridden eyes waited. Could be a rabbit, right?

A gruff voice broke their silence, “Filthy mortal. You have been searching for me, haven’t you?” The man sounded perturbed. As if her very presence was a nuisance. “Well, here I am.” Ungrateful.

The woman blinked. Surely, this wasn’t the Sorcerer of the Forest? The male sounded no older than her. Far too youthful to be such a myth.

“I don’t t-think you’re him,” she replied, slowly turning to face the owner of the voice.

Foreign eyes observed her, his nose crunched with disdain. The young man was adorned in black; a pulled hood and avian mask blurring his features. A pristine cloak hung around his wiry frame. Leather gloved hands fidgeted. His posture betrayed his voice, uncomfortability spread throughout his spine.

“A sorcerer. You mortals ask for such frivolous things,” the masked man replied. Despite his age, the Sorcerer of the Forest never quite understood mortals. Useless stories amused them. Inspired them. This caused a problem for him. Rarely the man would receive dim-witted guests to his side of nature. Naive mortals that didn’t understand his terms. They would agree to his services, not realizing the peril.

A laugh escaped from the woman, a nervous habit. Clearly, this man was mortal, too. Just has a little superiority complex. It wasn’t unexpected. Such a talented display of magic was too prideful. Like a secret to be shared.

“...okay. Wait. You know what I need?”

The words hung in the dusk. Disgusted eyes still trained upon her, memorizing her. He looked almost pensive. A leather gloved hand rested against a clothed elbow. The masked man’s dark brows furrowed together.

“Moronic girl,” he chastised, “you desire a strength potion. It’s rather bold to assume I’d stoop to such a vile practice.” The man was a sorcerer, not a desperate apothecary.

Another laugh bubbled from her. Genuine sounds. “You’re a sorcerer. Surely, you mix potions?”

The woman’s tone was immature. Naive wonder spread across her face. She prayed he would remove the formerly intimidating birdlike mask. It’s shape provoked a primal fear within her. As if she should run as far as her legs would carry her. Instincts screaming.

The man stepped forward, dead leaves crunched under his boots.

He scoffed, his eyes darting from her. The mysterious man smoothed invisible hairs along auburn hair. His hair looks soft, the woman noted. Perhaps he was an Adonis underneath the beak. With the distance between them shortened, she noticed brass goggles upon gilded orbs. The same contempt within them.

“Do you even carry a sword? Perhaps a dagger. Oh, I know. You don’t do you?” he quizzed. The man clearly taking delight in her vulnerable form.

The maiden softly gasped and dropped her gourd to the ground. Her hands now wrung in doubt. No legend about the Sorcerer of the Forest told of his scorn. He was the un-sung hero; the powerful force that provided the hero a winner’s edge.

She didn’t reply. Horror locked the adventurer in place. Her eyes trained on the man before her.

He closed the gap between them, the linen of his cloak brushed against the woman’s shirt. “What you desire will cost you.”

The young explorer had followed the mysterious, angry man to his hut. The design was simple, but presistine. Not a single ingredient or amulet out of place. His shack reminded her of the shaman huts in her village. The after smell of incense a permanent fixture.

The two discussed their deal. An insistent voice spouted a word vomit of myths. Her eyes alight with passion. The possibility within her hands now.

“...and that’s why I need this potion, talented Sorcerer of the Forest! I don’t care about t-the consequences.” The maiden stuttered, her excitement had gotten the best of her.

“I have told you, mortal. I am Overhaul. This fantasy of the ‘Sorcerer of the Forest’ doesn’t exist. Merely stupid childish stories,” the man corrected. His tone stern.

Overhaul.

Instantly, the woman realized the mistake she had made. The man before her was not the great Sorcerer of the Forest, but his antithesis; Chisaki Kai. A rumored lesser demon in fables. Overhaul being his preferred title. His deals the catalyst for despair in his epics. The being a play on devil’s advocate. A strong occultist that dealt in absolutes. In his parables, the heroes would receive their most intimate desires, but at the grievous cost of their humanity. Their soul.

Her features were clouded by concentration. The temptation mulled over in her mind. Is… Is it immortal to sell my humanity for the greater good? Surely, heroism cancels out sins.

She offered her hand in a show of solidarity. “Please.”

A good handshake was the cornerstone for any business transaction. Even the resident smithy had a crushing grip. A truth the maiden had learned early, the concept of goodwill familiar to her.

Golden eyes stared at her. His indifferent glare almost seeing through her.

“Handshakes are informal. If you weren’t so naive, you would know.” Naive laced with venom. Ignorance was a sin to him. Cretins were beneath a messiah.

Stand tall. Make your demand known.

The nervous woman straightened her back. Eyes meeting Overhaul.

“Sorcerer or lesser demon; I humbly request the potion. Please,” she asked, her hands clasped in prayer. Stubborn hands with steadfast faith. Illusions of adventure plagued her. The poison deep in her bones. She could taste her immortality in fiction.

Overhaul almost pitied the woman before him. Feminine graces for deceit. The ghost of a smile stretched across his features.

“As you desire.”

The aspiring adventurer had inquired about a strength potion. A rudimentary task that would only require several days work for Overhaul. The reply caused a grin to break out upon the young woman’s face. Her face… almost cute.

While working, Overhaul caught flashes of the maiden’s frightened expressions. A sick delight taking root into him. His psyche was a chasm of perverse thoughts. The mixture of worry and dread intoxicated him. Like an inch he couldn’t scratch.

He felt on fire.

She wandered aimlessly, soft footsteps echoed through the abyss of trees. This was her ritual now. Naively calling for Overhaul. The beaked man was behind on his promise. The confident woman’s belief in him wavered. A gourd still hung from her belt; a failed lesson.

“You can be so damn loud. Do you realize that?”

The naive mortal’s expression tightened; the intimate reaction caused a flush to scatter across him. Foreign anxiety and a rush of dopamine through his body. Hot breath huffed against the hollow of his beak. The fervor burned like a wildfire.

She averted her eyes; the earthen ground her chosen subject. Overhaul’s aura engulfed the young woman in anxiety. Instincts feral.

The nemophilist beamed; fangs bared for prey. Sadistic glee painted into his face. Amber eyes studied her. Victim no match for an apex predator.

“Sorry… I’m happy I found you, I think. You’re behind schedule, Overhaul, but it’s for good reason, right? Maybe you ran into a lack of ingredients?” the woman hoped, her heart unable to conjure the alternative. Panic surged through her nerves. A feeling she couldn’t ignore. Body hot with anxiety.

“Follow.”

Yet again, the young maiden found herself in the wooden cabin of the occultist. A scent of wood and flowers assaulted her nose. The smell less pleasant than before.

Overhaul held the vial; gloved hands gingerly guarding her desire. She felt a pang in her bosom. The promise of immortality dangled before her. Breath caught in an eager throat, words cramped.

“Please. I have money. Gold. I can pay you.” Desperation covered her tone. The zealous woman features pulled tight. Eyes glued to the vial. The key to her quest.

The masked man laughed, placing the vial on the wooden table between them. His eyes stuck to her. Selfish eyes fixated. Overhaul’s chest hitched; the anticipation of her fear tantalizing. He felt drunk from her presence.

“No… No money. As Overhaul we both know I’ll claim my due. For someone that prides themselves on mythos; you genuinely are stupid,” he sneered. His words overrun with acid. The man was merely prodding for her adorably fearful visage. An image that haunted him. Perhaps, he could coax the emotion out of the meek woman via insults. Overhaul knew the power he held. His veins burned with it.

The woman nodded. Distinct horrible stories flooded her. The sparks of misery burning into her psyche. A terror she prayed to avoid. “Whatever, Overhaul. We made the deal. So drop the act. It’s embarrassing.” As soon as the words tumbled from her mouth; the ignorant mortal understood the weight of them. The nervousness in her back.

“Take it before I change my mind.”

An empty threat, or so she thought.

A week passed. The young explorer still felt as before. No obvious strength stockpiled within her. It took her three days to deduce that the willowy man she met had been a pretender. Merely a man fascinated with Overhaul. She was familiar with the insanity of it. The very same thing motivated her to find the Sorcerer of the Forest. A pretend man.

Life for her was stagnant as before, too. No excitement lived in the heart of the village. Routine a sacred theme. Mundane.

Despite this, the steadfast mortal had continued her prayer. Feverish belief burned in her chest. Perhaps faith was the secret to immortality in mythos.

Soft knocks echoed through the woman’s door. A late night visitor. Panicky fear settled in her bones. After dusk visits only brought tragedy. Slowly, she rose from bed. Anxiety flowed through her muscles; simple movements a struggle.

Delicate feet dragged across wooden floors. Tired eyes in a haze. She reached for the door knob, the brass cold against her. The young explorer cautiously opened the door. A sheepish plastered. One must be strong in misery.

The exhausted mortal’s eyes dropped; Overhaul curiously before her. The man barely an inch from her. Just as before. The kindling of a blush erupted across her face. Pink, squeezable cheeks.

Overhaul’s urge to touch such a filthy creature was almost overwhelming. And yet, he restrained himself. A promise of fulfilling her desire fueled him. He ached to see her afraid again.

“What are you doing here?” She was unprepared for the gravity of her choice. No soul was worth heroics. Not even a naive mortal’s. Humanity was the last shred of chaos the woman had. Every aspect of her life routine.

A smirk took root. “Moronic girl. I’m fulfilling your greatest desire. Follow.”

A phantom hand guided the woman’s numb body through the village and into the forest. Overhaul only a few paces ahead. A haze developed over her; the extent of her actions a mystery.

She had no memory of adventuring to the occultist Overhaul’s hut, yet, here she was. A dressing gown clad body sat across from gold eyes. The ghost of a smirk still lingered on his face. Her distressed frame was the source for his perverse joy. A sick knot settled into his stomach.

“Do I give you my soul?” she inquired, a sniffle in her tone. Tears building inside her chest.The reality of her agreement attacked her.

Overhaul stifled a chorkle. An unrealistic expectation mortals held. So side-eyed. He assumed nothing less from her. Naivety was an illness. “No, idiot. Strip.”

Her mind glazed over. Robotic limbs carried out the sorcerer’s demand. Dark magicks at work.

“Please… stop. I don’t desire t-this.” The maiden stood before him; horror in wide eyes. She cowered. No memory of disrobing; her heart in her ears. Had he drugged her? Was the vial a love potion?

Gently, gloved hands removed the avian mask and goggles; Overhaul’s face on display. She did not expect him to be handsome. His features carved from stone by da Vinci. The ironic nature not lost. How could a vile man be so beautiful?

“Are you denying yourself your innermost wishes? Do you not quiver for my touch?” Overhaul countered, his gruff voice shrewd. The sorcerer tried to hide his morbid pleasure. Lips curled into a lustful grin. The knot in his stomach was hot. Touch-starved fingertips excited.

He licked his lips. Pining yellow eyes burned into her. The man known as Overhaul drank from her vulnerability. The woman’s soft body was a treat. Only for him.

The mortal blushed. Crimson obvious in the moonlight. “Not like t-this.” She was attracted to him, but every instinct screamed at her to flee. The man was suffocating.

Overhaul reached out, pinching her flesh between his fingers. Tense skin responded to his touch. She shivered.

“A brat like you doesn’t deserve to use my title, don’t you agree? Refer to me as Kai.”

The woman felt helpless beneath him. Even his thin frame towered over her. The height difference only incited Chisaki Kai. Her vulnerability was a luxury. A privilege. She shifted, a futile attempt to escape him.

Kai suddenly grasp the woman; his hands finding purchase around her wrists. Her skin was a map of goosebumps. He pulled her to him; the heat of her body melted into him. A delicate form for him to break. He shuddered at the thought. A tapestry of bruises. Lilac suits you.

“O-Kai. Kai, please let me go. I won’t tell anyone. It hurts,” she pleaded, as purple blossomed on her wrists. The beginning of a bruise. Gloved hands ignored her cries. The filthy mortal’s request only riled up Kai. A throbbing ache formed between his thighs. An urge to bury himself inside her crawled from the back of his psyche.

Lecherous eyes scanned her body. Kai’s body snug against the frightened woman. Clean linens. A faint bouquet of clean linens drifted to him. This must be the essence of the disrobed body before him. Simple fabric separated Kai from eden. The garments weren’t flattering, he convinced himself. That’s why a gloved hand detached from her wrist; her arm falling limp as the sorcerer examined dull cloth between disinterested fingers. Florcets of pink rested twisted into pure horror. Traces of anxiety now settled in her ribs; the woman’s throat choked shut. The lack of sound a disappointment to Kai. The inch on fire with arousal for terrified looks.

“You don’t need this,” Kai whispered, his breath hot against the woman’s exposed skin. Unceremoniously, Kai ripped the brassiere. Fabric ripping the only sound between them. Quick, short breaths followed. The occultist felt overwhelmed. His fantasy before him. Saliva pooled; the man’s mouth flooded.

Delicate skin winced in the biting chill. A free arm shot up in a frantic attempt to cover shame. Chisaki Kai frowned. Adonis features twisted. Fangs threatened in a snarl. “Show me.”

She held steadfast, a lilac now settled into her wrists. The naive explorer refused to allow an erratic man the pleasure of her stripped bosom. A right reserved for lovers. Not a cruel con man.

Gloved hands swiftly detached from her. He harshly pulled off the leather gloves and pathetically tossed them behind him. Kai was finally able to feel her. Feverish hands returned to exposed flesh. Sadistic hands roughly grabbed the numinous woman. A yelp sounded from her, his impatient touch a cause for surprise. In her nerves, she felt a spark.

Yellow eyes marveled at the beauty before him. Inspiration.

“On your knees.”

The mortal woman before him obeyed. Dread flowed through her body. Images of violence danced before her. Promises of Chisaki Kai’s power.

“Not such a bitch, now are we?” Kai teased, a cruel smirk upon his face. Satisfaction from her blind devotion. Warmth tightened against his pants. The compassion he held for her. A little gift for not misbehaving. Kai couldn’t spell his excitement; his chest heaved in anticipation.

“Isn’t t-this enough? I’m begging you; please stop.” A chorus of no’s followed after as Kai pressed the dame’s face against his crotch. His throbbing need now stimulated by the friction. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural. Animalistic.

Satisfied, Kai released her face. Feverish hands unbuttoned his pants. The furor caused slender hands to shake. “I don’t care. You desired this, wicked girl.”

The scared woman audibly gulped, terror and arousal swirled in her mind. Gentle hands found his hard cock. Length throbbed in her palm. The man’s very body craved her touch. She began to tenderly stroke him; her hand exploring veins.

Kai growled, instinctively bucked into her. No time for shame. He could chastise the adventurer later. Her hands were heaven sent. Curiosity mingled with lust. A free hand snaked to her panties. The woman teasing herself. A whine fell from her lips. The syrupy sound encouraged Kai; the sorcerer’s sentence spilling out.

“Suck my cock.”

She stopped pumping him, her hand poised around his head, foreskin pulled down. Innocent eyes viewed the brown haired man. A meek air engulfed the woman. Moist hands now covered the grove of rose upon her cheeks. The heat devouring her. Was she on fire?

Breathe.

Plump lips wrapped around his cock, veins pulsating. Kai’s pleasure was obvious. The flustered woman began to swirl her tongue around him; her hands caressing his manhood. He melted into her touch. The man’s bucking now at a sweltering pace. An idea presented itself.

He knew he had to be quick. Otherwise, she could bite him. A degloved hand shoved her head down him. The wet chasm of her mouth coupled with gagged sent Kai into ecstasy. The knot branded into his stomach, working its way to his chest. An orgasm approaching.

“Don’t fucking stop,” the auburn man mewled. Spit spewed from the asphyxiated woman; droplets decorating his hips. She needed to breathe, he reasoned. Hands clawed at thighs in a vain attempt for air. He released her.

Hungry lungs inhaled; the aroma of wood and flower heaven sent.

“No more…” she rasped. Voice hoarse from the man’s violent bucking. Snot leaked from her nose, eyes brimmed with tears.

She looked so broken, Kai realized. The fire within him a roaring blaze. A dire need exploded in his chest. The man roughly grabbed the woman’s face, shoving her against him again.

An anxiety fueled mouth played with his length. Muffled cries juxtaposed against moans. Tiny streaks of fear now displayed down her cheeks. Pink cheeks shining.

Orgasic euphoria burst from Kai. The abrupt event caused her to gag; a sloppy spray of hot cum and saliva ran from the woman’s chin, the final droplets resting against her bosom.

#chisaki kai x reader #overhaul x reader #bnha #smut #quirkless!au

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aplaceinthedark · 8 months

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DROWN you OUT

a DROWNED story

Word Count: 2.3k+

CW: religious themes, supernatural themes, LOTS of drowning, depression, brief mention of suicide attempts, blood, murder, cannibalism

Blinded by a fear of feeling, these are the kings we chose. Lost and looking for the meaning, I've been searching high and low.

When we fade into nothing; when we go up in the smoke, we'll beg God for a mercy that he knows we'd never show.

Despite the hot June night, the river water surrounding Joakim felt ice cold.

He didn’t know why this was the first thing he thought of as he feebly struggled against the many sets of hands holding him underwater. He was absolutely panicking, his body fighting instinctively, but the only thing currently going through his head was the temperature of the damn river water. He probably should be more concerned about the people who he thought were his fellow congregates and why they wouldn’t let him come up for air, but he’d been brainwashed into thinking that he deserved this fate.

He’d left his home country of Sweden years ago, coming to the east coast of America, but never quite settling down. He’d gone from state to state, starting up north and making his way down, trying to find a new home, but nothing seemed to stick. He’d never felt accepted for the ways he’d been raised; a mixture of the natural ways with the Christian God.

And then he moved to the Appalachian mountains, where he met The Children of the Revered Father.

A small group of them were passing out flyers one Sunday when Joakim was traveling through. He found himself going to one of their weekly gatherings, since why the hell not? That’s how he found out that these people were exactly what he’d been looking for. Pretty soon, he found himself living in the nearby town, surrounded by who he had thought were kind, loving people. He attended gatherings and workshops two or sometimes three times a week. The Revered Father had become his whole world; like getting swept up in a tidal wave.

But pretty soon, he found that he would experience the crash.

Some of his friends had invited him to a midnight mass sort of thing, to welcome the first throes of summer. He gladly accepted. They mentioned something about baptization, to fully accept everyone into the Family, and Joakim was thrilled. It meant that he was finally being accepted into something here, something he hadn’t felt since he left home all those years ago.

They’d all gone out into the woods after night fell. The entire congregation met up at the deepest hollow, where they had their monthly moonless gatherings. They said the usual words, the usual hymns, the usual rituals. Some drinks were passed around; something stronger than what they usually had, Joakim thought. There was talk of the proceedings, about how the Revered Father would test their faith. Joakim didn’t think of what that would mean if he failed; he was faithful, he wouldn’t fail.

Except he must have. Why else would those he had called friends be holding him under the water for longer than the others? Why else would the murky river water taste foul as his lungs finally caved and forced his mouth open? Why else would the water fill his lungs, making him feel heavier than he actually was?

Through the murkiness of the water and the flurry of limbs, Joakim thought he saw something. He thought he saw a low, red pulse on the shoreline of the river. He thought he saw a pair of matching eyes staring at him, despite a small part of his brain telling him that there should be now way he could see that through all the chaos going on.

Those same eyes told him to sleep, to give in. And despite his body telling him not to, his mind eventually did.

His limbs started freezing up, the heaviness and cold settling into his bones to make them useless. The hands on him started to slowly leave one by one, and for a brief moment he thought about freedom, how he could finally fight his way to the surface, but he couldn’t get his body to cooperate. His clothes weighed him down.

Finally, as he sank to the bottom of the river, the stones digging into his back, he couldn’t help but think of how he had failed his God. As his vision went dark, he felt the rage fill him. There’s no room for salvation, he thought, Now, there’s only room for demons.

And that was how the young human, Joakim Karlsson, died.

On a canvas we stained with blood and painted with our sins, there's a candle melting and it's burning at both ends.

We'll take and take 'til it caves and drowns us in the wax it drips. Like a moth to a flame you never should've fucking lit.

You can give sight to the blind, but you can't force them to see. You could take us back in time, but it wouldn't change a thing.

When Joakim was a child, he was told all about the fairy tales of his homeland. But the one that intrigued him the most was the tale of the näcken.

He was always told to avoid the rivers without his parents nearby, lest he be lured to the bottom of a näcken’s song. It never bothered him much. In fact, when he grew older, he said that he wanted to find one so he himself could learn how to play guitar as well as any supernatural water creature could.

He never expected to become one himself.

Unlike some of the other Hollowed Souls, Joakim had his faculties after the Watcher of the Woods left his body to become overtaken by the curse of the Shenandoah. At first, he didn’t know what to do with himself, and as he wandered up and down the river, he grew to hate everything. Fuck this, fuck that. Fuck this, fuck that. The worst part was that he found out that he couldn’t truly leave the river; not without running water, and certainly not for long periods of time. But eventually, that pain faded away, leaving him more hollow than ever before.

He discovered his curse after he felt such sadness that couldn’t be expressed like before. He could make the motions, but he couldn’t release the emotions and grief and pain. It wasn’t until he began singing that he realized why. It eased the pain, but as people came to the river, he wanted nothing to do with it.

And worse, there was always the voice in the back of his head that compelled him to do it.

CONSUME.

The sadness only grew with every young life he took, whether it was by devouring their flesh or by drowning them, almost like how he was drowned. Their deaths only prolonged his sadness, for now there was no way he could ever see salvation in the afterlife.

He knew this for certain. It was how he discovered that he could no longer die, after all.

Soon, he learned to just become numb to the death that surrounded him. After all, how could he live when he was already dead on the inside?

Luckily, around that time was when he met Nick Folio. To be honest, he wasn’t sure why he let the kid stay around. He was annoying at the best of times, a straight up demon at the worst. But after a while, with no voices or dread filling his head up, he realized that Nick was more of a balm than a hindrance.

Within a year, Joakim had crafted a guitar of his own making. The body was made out of driftwood, the strings made out of various types of hair. He was pretty proud of himself for the craftsmanship. It felt less like an instrument and more like a piece of himself, like an extension of his body. He grew possessive over it, to the point when Nick asked if he could play Freebird on it, Joakim nearly tore off the boy’s arm. Between the two, he felt like he didn't need anything else.

Except he did feel like he still needed more. And it didn't come to him until a year after Nick did.

HELP.

Joakim couldn’t leave the river for long periods of time. He found that after a while the itch to sing and the hunger to play his guitar would grow. To save hikers and campers, he would stay holed up in his little hole tucked into a waterfall. But this voice; this New Voice in his head compelled him to abandon the river to find it.

That’s when Joakim found himself standing in the hollow where the Children of the Revered Father once stood. He froze. Why would the voice bring him here? Was it a new torture for him to endure? He snapped out of it when he felt Nick shift into the Church Grim and started digging at a spot in the middle of the hollow with a whine.

This is crazy, Joakim thought to himself, even though he’d seen enough in the past few years that would prove that thought wrong. Especially when a young man showed up, out of breath, and when he looked up, Joakim watched as his blue-gray eyes shift to a deep green.

“I hope I’m not too late,” he said.

If God came down from his kingdom; He came down from his home, and we asked him if he'd take us back, He would surely tell us no.

If God came down from his kingdom; He came down from his throne, and we asked him if he'd take us back, He would tell us we can't go.

To a rat in a maze the end is where the start begins, but if we made it out I know that we would do it all again.

We live and die in vain like treasure on a sinking ship. All in the name of a God we'd just abandon and forget.

They'd used him.

Joakim had heard Nick's tale about how he'd been treated, but until he met Nicholas and Noah, he hadn't believed that the Children were the same group. But they were, and they used him just to appease their so-called Revered Father, some forest-spirit claiming it was a god.

But it was dead to this plane of existence and another took its place. Noah had given him a choice, unlike the previous Watcher of the Woods. Joakim asked to give him some time, because he still had things to do, before he could make up his mind.

There were some loose ends that needed to be tied up.

With it being Midsummer's Eve, Noah had heard the whisperings of how the Cult of the Black Stag was going to attempt to reform and bring back their “Revered Father,” and it was a perfect opportunity to get their revenge. It was a perfect opportunity to get his revenge.

And he got everything he wished for.

They came to him in waves. Slowly at first, but surely. They would come out of the woods quietly, their faces slack but their eyes wide with fear, and they would slowly shuffle into the water. One by one, they would come closer to him and his music, until their knees disappeared into the water; until their waists, their chests, and their shoulders disappeared. He didn't let them go until their heads were fully submerged.

The ones he didn't recognize Joakim let be swept up into the rapids. Those he hadn’t much care for. Those ones were pulled away and under, their breath stolen from them by the current or by a random rock they hit their heads on.

The ones he did recognize, however: the ones that he had called friends once; the ones who pinned his head below the surface so he would be the Hollowed Vessel. Those he pulled closer to him. When they were surrounding him, he set his guitar on the rock, and then he slipped into the water.

And with a scream to drown out all other sounds around them, the bloodbath began.

Afterwards, when the river no longer ran red and Joakim stepped foot on land, Noah once again asked, “You want to help protect these woods from evil again?”

This time, Joakim had his answer.

And from then on, Joakim Karlsson became known as the Drowned, the nacken of the Shenandoah Rivers.

We're dying everyday. Tell me is it all in vain? Is it worth the suffering? Is it worth the price we paid?

Is it worth it?

Joakim frowns. Is it worth it?

Pausing his fingers, he peeks up at the sky. The morning light was washing the river and woods in pale tones. The same sky he's been seeing the past ten years, it never changed except with the seasons. Another summer solstice had come and gone with no sign of the children returning.

But Joakim could tell that wasn't true. He and Noah have felt something stirring lately. Something felt off with the Woods.

But Jolly kept playing his guitar and singing softly to himself, humming along to the melody he created a couple of days ago.

“If God came down from His kingdom, He came down from His home, and we asked Him if he'd take us back, He would surely tell us no.”

WE'RE ALMOST THERE. NICK'S BRINGING A “FRIEND”, SO FAIR WARNING.

Joakim rolls his eyes at Noah's voice in his head, but acquiesces to Noah's unspoken command. With hardly any movement, Joakim shifts form into something less horrifying than the drowned corpse he normally looks like. It's his skin that he used to have back when he was alive.

It's miniscule, barely even noticeable, but Joakim smiles to himself as he continues playing his guitar.

“WHAT UP JOLLEEEEEE!” he hears Noah calling from behind him. He turns to face his friends.

And he thinks to himself, Yes, it is worth it.

You can give sight to the blind, but you can't force them to see. You could take us back in time, but it wouldn't change a fucking thing.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf #bad omens au #jolly karlsson fanfiction #horror au #paranormal au #series: lost in the labyrinth #fic: tales from the grove of secrets #cw: religious themes #cw: supernatural themes #cw: drowning #cw: blood #cw: suicide #cw: cannibalism #cw: depression #cw: death

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robronsecretsanta · 6 years

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Fic: “There must always be a Dingle in Wishing Well.”

@scrapyardboyfriends, to merge it with Robron, I played fast and loose (or maybe not that fast, but definitely loose) with the universe of A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones. Since George R.R. Martin did the same with the definition of ‘a trilogy’, I believe I’m ok. This is not a full blown AU because of the deadline, just a taste of one that I thought you might enjoy. Merry Christmas from your secret santa!

Rating: G Word count: 4588

“There must always be a Dingle in Wishing Well.”

Those were the last words Ser Zak had stressed to him before heading for the south, and they continue to reverberate in Aaron’s mind as he’s making his way between the weirwoods in complete darkness. His uncle had turned southward accompanied by his son, Cain, to face the challenge of the Whites. That family’s wealth and machinations had bought them first the king’s ear and later, as the whispered accusations claimed, his death as well. Ser Zak and Cain did not return. Before they left, his uncle repeated that final reminder. For eons, the Dingles were the Wardens of the North, overseeing it from the castle of Wishing Well. They were pledged not only to defend the North’s territories, but also the collective memories its people swore by. It now fell to Aaron to lead and protect its men. An odd position to suddenly hold, since unlike other rulers in the kingdoms, the Dingles did not raise their children separate from the population they would come to govern. As strange as it was to take this role on, it was the one that Aaron Dingle was born and trained for his whole life. It was the circumstances of how he would step into it that none of them had anticipated.

The weirwoods whisper all around Aaron in the dark of night. He has felt more than once like he was on the brink of understanding what their leaves were rustling about. Even though this gut feeling has never materialised, it gave him a sense of profoundness whenever he walked through the ancient weirwood grove that lay at the heart of the castle grounds. As alert as he must be right now, that sense is still present in him. He continues to make his way among the trees on his own, though he knows the Barton lad, the one that Ser Zak took in as a boy to be his companion, is close on his heels and keeps within earshot. It’s fine, the agreement allowed both sides to bring along up to one servant, as long as those men were kept back. He could afford agreeing to this when he was on his own turf. Aaron is reaching the dark pool next to which the meeting is to take place.

He’s meant to come face to face here with the heir to the House of Sugden, claimant to the throne of the kingdoms. The young man who, so the stories insist, has hatched fire-breathing dragons that can take over the world. If even half of what Aaron’s heard is true, the Sugdens can help him defeat his enemies from the south, as well as the free folk to the north, lurking beyond the great wall. Aaron’s not that sure he does believe the fantastic tales that he’s heard. The meeting place itself is meant to be somewhat of a test. The Sugden heir would have to find his way to the castle in the middle of the night with only one servant as aid, then he’d have to scale the high and impenetrable walls of Wishing Well and next, he would have to navigate without moonlight between the trees that have been growing thick and wild here since the dawn of time. A dragon would be one of the very few ways that this could be done by a complete stranger to these parts.

Aaron didn’t bring a torch with him, to light the path. He knew one won’t be needed for him to find his way around the weirwoods. Besides, he feels comfortable in this darkness. It’s more of an advantage to him than a problem. Now all he needs to do is wait. He hopes it won’t be for long.

A stirring of the leaves nearby is his first indication that he was wrong to assume he’s alone.

“You’ve finally arrived,” he hears the voice before it’s followed by an odd sound and as if out of nowhere, there’s a lit torch held up between him and a young man.

Or rather, Aaron thinks he’s young. In the small circle of light cast by the torch, he finds it hard to decipher whether the deep lines etched in the man’s face are due to age or too many concerns that he’s carried. Not too tall, dark hair, eyes that appear dark as well, but it’s almost impossible to tell if they really are, a mole. There’s no reason to be disappointed by appearances, but for whatever reason, Aaron expected someone more impressive. Maester Kirk had suggested an arranged marriage with the heir of this grand house if all else should fail. Aaron’s first reaction was an angry complete and total rejection of the idea that he’d wed a Sugden, political necessity or not. A few ravens later, carrying bad news from the south beneath their wings, and he acknowledged that he may have to resort to that. If there is no other choice left, then he will, but he would certainly explore every alternative option. Actually facing the heir of that great, and hated, house, the man’s look strikes Aaron as the wrong one to bind himself forever to. It’s proving to be yet one more reason why he hopes to resolve this by other means.

“I see you’ve arrived ahead of time. Not wanting to waste any?” he responds. He wants to be careful, appraise the man standing opposite him.

“Precisely. Shall we discuss our terms for collaboration?”

Blunt. Aaron can appreciate that, but he thinks he picks up on the heir’s voice being a little scared. His gut reaction to that is to dislike that note of fear. If the man is honest about what brought him here, why should he be fearful?

“You’re not going to ask me to bend the knee first?”

The Sugden heir’s face falls, like it strikes him that this is what he was meant to lead with, but then he immediately recovers. “I’m not going to ask, because you will.”

That’s one way to cover your tracks, Aaron supposes. It’s not a very good one, it leaves little room for negotiation. If this is the political prowess the Sugdens can now offer, it may not be that wise for the Dingle House to tie itself to them.

“Will I? Why should I do that? You need me, my Lord,” not Your Highness, “or you wouldn’t be here. Should I ask you to bend the knee, then?”

Anger flashes across the heir’s face.

“It is true what they say about you, then? That you are in open rebellion and have declared yourself King in the North?”

“No, my Lord,” an expression of surprise chases the anger away at that, “my people are the ones who declared it. Should their will not concern me more than yours?”

“Maybe, if you want to live,” the anger’s back, the kind driven by a helplessness at the face of a challenge to one’s authority or status. Not a desirable trait in an ally. Even less so in a husband.

The corners of Aaron’s lips are drawn down of their own accord, unimpressed. “And maybe you want to do something about that hair,” he spits out before he really considers it.

“You dare…!” the man cries out and his hand is suddenly up in the air, mid way to striking Aaron. It’s clad by a gauntlet, it will hurt. It’s meant to, a physical injury in return for an insult. The motion is registered quickly in the mind of a Dingle who was brought up to be a warrior, giving Aaron time to consider his next move. The most natural instinct he has is to reach for the sword in his belt, but he knows that is the wrong response. He can’t afford to pull it out of its sheath, not at this instance. His goal is to reach an alliance, but even if that fails, the last heir of the Sugden dynasty has too many means and his attention should be left to focus on other enemies.

This split second of hesitation, while Aaron is deliberating his preferred course of action, is enough to prevent him from needing to decide. There’s a growl that pierces the night and within that fracture of a second, it’s by his side. He can also hear the sound of running coming from behind him. He doesn’t have to look back to know that the man rushing in is Adam, or to glance to his right to take in the image of his direwolf beside him, Cloud. Big and grey, teeth bared, back arched, he’s a formidable sight and a clear threat. Sugden’s raised hand freezes in its track with terror. From behind the heir, there’s the blurry silhouette of his companion running to them just as swiftly as Adam was. But that is not what Aaron is focused on. The man he was supposed to negotiate with dropped the torch he was holding in his one hand almost as soon as the other one froze for fear of the direwolf. The flame made contact for a moment with his skin before the torch fell to the ground and the dry grass started catching fire. This time, Aaron does draw his sword out and he points it at the man before him.

The man who flinched when his flesh was momentarily burnt.

“Who are you really?” He makes a small gesture at the torch. “Spare me the lies.”

“Stop!” Sugden’s companion shouts out his command as he steps forward. “He’s not the man you want,” he says, his voice calmer once Aaron’s eyes are resting on him, before he takes a few more strides forward. He steps right into the small fire, standing in it with no sign of pain or panic, letting the thigh high flames lap at him. “I am.”

* * *

The fire surrounding his legs and creeping up them is slowly, but surely, beginning to spread. That prompts him to turn to his brother, whose eyes are still fixated on the Wolf Who Rose, as some have already nicknamed the new leader of Dingle family, and the actual direwolf accompanying him. “Andrew, don’t just stand there,” he says, “help me get some water from the pond.”

They have nothing suitable for the task other than the partly empty wineskins they were carrying. They drain those of whatever liquor was there and fill them with pond water. They’re joined by Aaron Dingle and his companion, who have with them waterskins - how sensible and northerner of them - that they pour out over the fire and then refill from the pond, too. It doesn’t take long before their joint efforts put out the flames, much as those fought to outlast them. As he watches the last of the ambers flicker with one final blaze of red before going out, Robert can’t help but feel a tinge of sorrow. Fire cannot kill a dragon like him. If only it didn’t harm others and didn’t have to be extinguished. If only he didn’t have to spend more than half his childhood hiding a part of who he was whenever he had noticed something about him was different to how the other kids were.

“You’re the real son of the king, I take it,” his train of thought is cut off by the man he came here to see. Andrew’s pretense was not just a precaution, in case the Dingles tried anything, but also an opportunity for their new leader to be observed.

Robert grimaces at what too many people thought of the brothers. “We both are. I’m the son who happens to be his by blood,” He looks in the direction of the other two men listening silently. He’s more irritated than he’d like to admit by the whole turn of events straying too far from his plans. His annoyance comes across when he doesn’t mean for it to because next he spits out, “and I don’t negotiate with commoners.” “Oh? That’s alright then,” the retort comes right away, “negotiate with me.” There’s a push back in there that Robert likes and it makes something inside him settle down and regain some of his composure. “Then we should find a spot where we can talk on our own.”

He gets a small nod in response and Aaron Dingle, first of his line in centuries to try and reclaim the mantle of King in the North, turns around at once and leads him away from the one man he brought along with him to help with his task. The Dingles are close to nothing when compared with the glory of House Sugden, but there’s something noble, almost royal, in the way this man carries himself that’s hard not to follow and Robert does. He’s not the only one. The direwolf is walking right next to his human, whose hand naturally finds itself buried in the thick fur. It practically drowns in it, a reminder of just how big the direwolf really is. It’s hard to look away from the shape the two of them make together.

“I hope you appreciate that I’m following you alone when you have that beast by your side,” he says after they’re outside the hearing range of anyone else.

“Cloud won’t let me out of his sight now that he’s decided your brother tried to threaten me. If you want us to speak alone, you’ll have to do with his presence. I wouldn’t complain if I were you, not after you were the one who tried to pass for your own servant. Out of the two of us, you’re the one proving to be hard to trust so far.”

“Ouch. Not totally unfair, but still. Ouch.”

“Besides,” Aaron Dingle abruptly halts and turns around to Robert sharply, forcing him to stop dead in his tracks, “you’re not alone and unprotected. You’ve got one of your dragons here, don’t you? Where did you think we were headed? I’d like to see your beast.”

Robert can feel his cheeks burning under what can only be perceived as a piercing gaze. What a strange new sensation. As far back as he can recall, no physical fire has made him feel this way and for some reason, he doesn’t think any ever will. “If this is where you’re headed, don’t. We can discuss our matters anywhere and you…” he can’t explain the sudden worry that takes over him when nothing major happened other than witnessing a complete stranger take a risk, “you shouldn’t trust me to guarantee your safety.”

“And yet,” Aaron breaks their stance and resumes his strides, “you will.”

Where is that confidence coming from? Robert is left wondering even as he’s forced to quickly step in line. He’s aware that most people pale at the thought of being in the presence of a dragon even if their safety is guaranteed, let alone if it isn’t. Especially when they think that they have a reason to doubt his motivations.

“How would you know where I left my dragon?” he tries to distract himself from everything about this that’s been unsettling.

A small, but deliberate pat to Cloud’s back is the only answer he gets.

Robert can pick up on that, even though he isn’t able to see much beyond the play of shadows and silhouettes. The man he’s following started leading the way in pitch dark without allowing either one of them the time to grab a torch and enjoy its guidance after Andrew’s went out. Robert doesn’t doubt that they are in the right direction, though. Soon enough he can hear Victorion’s breathing. If Cloud’s slowly rising growl is anything to go by, he’s not the only one. In fact, the direwolf seems more and more displeased, though he never so much as slows down.

“Stop!” Robert calls out. He may not be able to see much, but he can tell they’re near enough to Victorion. “We’re here.” He steps forward and bypasses the duo of man and direwolf. His step is unsure when he can’t see the ground he’s walking on, but the hand he reaches out to make contact with is steady. “Trust me?” he throws the question to the man behind him and without waiting to get a reply, he commands the smallest of his three dragons at the exact same time as he turns his back to her, “Dracarys!”

A flame splits up the night. Robert’s hand on Victorion’s neck is guiding the fire to be breathed in a direction safe for everyone and for the act to be longer than usual, allowing him to watch the spot where he knew he’ll see Aaron’s face. The dragon’s flame highlights each one of the man’s features. He is quite handsome, which isn’t really what the Sugden heir came to expect based on stories he’s heard from his family about the Dingle lineage. The expression on Aaron’s face changes from one of tension into that of pure wonder and awe. No fear. No repulsion. He’s beautiful in a way Robert isn’t sure he was ready for.

“You can come closer if you want to. You can touch her.” He didn’t plan on inviting the man to do so, but it feels right.

Aaron takes a hesitant step forward and pauses. He’s waiting for Victorion’s reaction. When there is none, he continues until he touches the scaly skin of the dragon. A little laughter comes out of him like a bubble of air rising, seemingly out of nowhere, to break the surface of water. Robert would wage good money that it’s not a sound people hear often. He starts patting Victorion for how good and quiet she’s being and Aaron mimics him almost immediately. Even though hers is not the most pleasant skin for the touch, not even when compared with other dragons, Robert thinks there’s something thrilling about doing this. The tingle of power that runs right underneath one’s fingers when she moves slightly in reaction. As they continue doing this, their hands accidentally brush against each other, warm in contrast with her cold scales.

Aaron steps back. “I think it’s time you told me,” he says slowly, as if he’s not certain himself that he’s ready for what will come, “what it is that you want from me.”

* * *

Aaron looks down at the crowd of soldiers gathered next to the feet of the mountain. From up here on the cliff, they appear more like foam upon the sea than men, giving the impression of rippling waves as they move.

“Do you have to stand so close to the edge? If one of those numbskulls down there spots you, they can and will try to shoot you with an arrow.”

“They can try, they won’t succeed,” he pulls back to a degree all the same.

“They might succeed,” the voice comes closer and he turns to face Robert, who probably climbed up after him to the edge of the cliff in order to pull Aaron back himself if he had to, “and your Dingle audacity doesn’t actually make you immune to arrows.”

This up close, it’s impossible to ignore Robert’s clear eyes and how radiant he seems to be, even a second before the outbreak of a battle. It makes Aaron feel like he has something stuck in his throat, forcing him to attempt swallowing it down. The discomfort throws his mind back to their talk among the weirwoods, when they made their pact to be allies. What Robert wanted from him, as it turned out, was the fulfillment of a prophecy. “A prophecy?” Aaron was incredulous. It wasn’t like belief in prophecies throughout the kingdoms was unheard of, but to approach a northman because of one was odd. The northerners were more likely than anyone else in the realm to assume that any rhyme offered up as a prophetic text was either nonsense or an attempt at manipulation. After all, they are already aware of the one indisputable truth regarding the future: the inevitability of winter. They don’t need more than that. To try and woe a northman into an alliance through the idea of prophecy is, at best, as naive as expecting one to aid in such lunacy being fulfilled. Robert nodded, like he was reading his mind. “I know how your folk think of this, but…” his eyes dropped, lost in memories, “you have to understand. There was a great fire that could have destroyed my family. It would have, if it weren’t for a prophetic dream. And it did consume the majority of my people. I have no choice other than to believe.” “And you need me to help you make this prophecy come true?” Robert looked back up at him. “When the darkest shadow of the night is cast, the savior’s arrival will be sure and fast, as long as love can be forged with desire… in a song of ice and fire.” Aaron shrugged. “I have no idea what those nursery rhymes mean.” “The night’s shadow… you must have heard some of the same reports I have. From beyond the wall.” He figured out instantly what was referred to since he had indeed heard a few crazy rumors about a nightmarish threat rising in that vast wasteland. To be on the safe side, he preferred to claim ignorance. “What reports?” Robert frowned. “The Others. They’re walking this earth again.” Quiet, and he takes a breath before continuing. “Even if you don’t believe in that, I do. My people, we’ve been waiting, knowing that the night will cast its darkest shadow again. Not that we’re sure what the rest of the prophecy means. My maester thinks the heir to my family is the savior and that I’m meant to rescue the kingdoms in one grand, final battle. He thinks this clash will be the song of their ice against our fire.” “But you don’t agree.” Aaron was surprised to see a smile at that. “Maester Potts is ignoring the whole part about love and desire, isn’t he? Typical of a maester, I guess. He pushes that aside by saying it’s the abstract love and mutual want between me and the people of the realm that I’m meant to save and rule. Sounds a bit too easy to me.” It suddenly clicked. “You don’t agree with him and instead, you think I’m the ice and you’re the fire, and that we…?” Robert shrugged and answered only the first part. “Who better than a Dingle in all of the kingdoms to be the embodiment of ice?” Aaron snorted. “If you’re right, then we are all done for, aren’t we? There’s no love lost between the two of us or our houses.” This didn’t faze Robert as he chuckled in response. “You mean you haven’t fallen madly in love with me in the ten minutes we’ve been talking? I’m shocked.” “Yeah, you’re trying to play it off like you didn’t expect a scenario of that sort, but we haveheard of you here.” Even in a realm where royalties were known for their sexual proclivities, Robert was notorious. “What, my reputation precedes me?” There was too much satisfaction in his voice for Aaron’s liking. “And now you don’t even want to give me a chance as a suitor. That’s alright, I didn’t expect you would. But at the very least you can trust that I am offering you my full faith in this prophecy as a guarantee that I won’t betray you. You may not think it’s true, but I do and that means that I will never be a danger to you or yours. It means, I’ll protect you. I’ll give you my dragons and men to command for whatever purpose you have in mind in the south, for as long as it takes you to trust my words and accept our marriage.” Aaron shook his head in disbelief and dismay. The Sugden heir was offering him all that he was set on getting from their alliance without a nuptial contract being promised, not just yet. That was too good to be true. But he may try to enforce that marriage later down the line. “Even if I accept that you really believe in this, what will happen if I never agree to wed you?” “Well,” there was the ghost of warm breath that fleeted across Aaron’s face when Robert leaned in closer, his wide grin evident even in the dark, “I won’t force you to agree, not now and not ever. Because that’s my challenge, isn’t it? To make you love me and want to marry me… in addition to how much you already wish to bed me.” “I… what?” Aaron was far too astonished to phrase his question better. “No need to pretend, I can read the signs. I have to be very good at that, because… Well, you did hear about my reputation, right?” Aaron still wants to punch Robert whenever he thinks of the smirk with which he said that. Even the enemy soldiers gathering below them, their service paid for by the Whites and their greed for power, can’t distract him from that urge. It’s a desire only partly motivated by those words holding some truth to them. There is an undercurrent of want he feels whenever he looks at the true Sugden heir. Unlike Andrew, there is beauty and charm to Robert that are hard to ignore. Even the notion of going through with the marriage doesn’t seem as wrong when it comes to him. But not like this, not when Aaron is in a way still being forced to make this choice. After all, he is the very essence of the people he grew up with and was meant to rule, proud and unwilling to easily give up any freedoms. And Robert played his hand wrong, having given up all of his cards without demanding any commitments in exchange. He saved the North from an impossible situation while still intending to force his vision of their future on Aaron. The mere thought is enough to cool down any romantic feelings that might have otherwise evolved. No, whatever the song of ice and fire is, it will have to be played without the Dingle line thrown into it. The plan for the battle against the soldiers hired by the Whites is simple and the first stage of it will now be implemented. Most of the northerners and the Sugden soldiers are gathered at the foot of the mountain as well. The two armies are about to clash with Andrew serving as their side’s highest ranking fighter on the battlefield and Adam present as Aaron’s right hand man. He has Cloud by his side, growling and ready to pounce at the enemy’s throats. The sun hits its spot in the sky that they agreed on and the order is given. The men from both sides charge at each other. “Ready?” Robert asks, his one leg already leaning against scaly skin, his hand stretched out to offer help in mounting the dragon. Aaron looks up at the pair of eyes shining back at him and takes in the lack of any doubts or reservations, despite how much this may end up costing. “Hells, yes,” he replies, without being sure which question he’s really answering. They climb Victorion together, about to unleash the second stage and descend on the White soldiers from the sky.

#long post #robron #scrapyardboyfriends #robron fanfiction #robron secret santa

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