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wwinterwitch · 3 years ago

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happy endings - steddie

summary: knowing this will probably be the last chance he gets, steve finally confesses to eddie how he feels

pairing: steve harrington x eddie munson

word count: 3,285

warnings/what to expect: lost of fluff, robin is the captain of the ship, steve is very much in love, feelings are confessed, and guys are kissing, steve is bisexual in this, just steddie being happy, this is what really happens you can ignore whatever you saw in that shitty finale, ALSO: this fic contains references to bisexuality being equal to “liking guys and girls” which totally leaves out non-binary people. i’m only keeping everything regarding sexuality and gender so archaic because this is set in the 80s and there wasn’t much understanding around these topics. i’m not trying to be biphobic or invalidate anyone that aren’t male or female, just adapting to what the characters might think given the time they live in

a/n: since we got queerbaited once again i wrote this to give us actually good queer content so i truly hope you enjoy and helps you feel better after what we had to go through <3

**gif is not mine, it belongs to cindy-berman here on tumblr!!

a comment and/or reblog is always appreciated

masterlist | ao3

"You should go talk to him."

Steve was snapped back to reality when he heard Robin talking to him, taking a seat right next to him outside the van they just stole a few hours ago. She wasn't looking at him when he turned to face her, focusing on the scene Steve was just looking at before she walked up to him.

Dustin and Eddie were improvising a small battle in the middle of the empty field, shouting stuff Steve can only assume has to do with that board game the two are so obsessed about. He watches as Dustin shouts something, pretending to aim at Eddie, who immediately falls to the ground in an awfully theatrical death. Steve couldn't help the smile forming on his face when they both began laughing, the younger boy helping the other to stand up from the ground before Eddie is wrapping his arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. The scene was just too much for Steve to bare.

He used to feel to jealous about Eddie and Dustin's relationship. He felt replaced. Now? Now he wishes he could be there standing next to them on that field, pretending to be three knights in search of the monster to save their kingdom, being able to go back to the real world whenever they wanted to. Instead, they're just three random guys in a small town, about to hunt a real monster. This wasn't a game, no matter how badly Steve wishes for it to be. He can't pretend he's a knight about to go on some fictional adventure. This is real life.

But if only. If only he could be a brave knight joining his group of friends on a noble crusade. To slay their enemies and come out undefeated. Everyone will be save, and they can all go celebrate their triumph. If only Steve was able to fight side-by-side with Eddie, hunting down the monster together only to get almost captured by the evil creatures- almost, because Eddie would be there to save the day. To save him.

That's what was going on in his head before Robin interrupted. The perfect ending for a seemingly perfect story. The knight finally getting the other knight and living happily ever after. Not...whatever this was. Just a bunch of teens about to face the biggest threat they've faced so far with no way of knowing if they'll get a happy ending. The knight still terrified to confess his feelings to the other knight.

"What does that mean?" he asked after a few seconds in complete silence, acting like he had no idea what his best friend was talking about.

"Look, I know it's scary, but you have to say something before it's too late."

Steve didn't know what to say at first. "Like how you talked to Vickie?"

"Okay, I deserve that. But that is exactly why I'm trying to talk some sense into you!" she quickly argued. "I can't go back to Hawkins now to tell Vickie how I feel and it's quite literally killing me, because I don't know if I get the chance to tell her after all of this is over."

"Don't say that," Steve interrupted her little speech, frowning at the mere idea of Robin not making it. Of anyone not making it after they kill Vecna. Instantly and just like many other times before, his thoughts drifted to Eddie. What would he do if he doesn't make it. He won't allow that to happen, not before they can get their happy ending.

"I say it because it's true, Steve. We don't know if all of us are going to make it, so this could be your last chance to tell Eddie how you feel."

Tell Eddie how he feels. That's sounds much easier that what it truly is. Even Steve himself has struggled to fully understand what's been going on with him ever since Eddie Munson walked back into his life. He used to know him as nothing but a weirdo who got stuck in senior year, but now he's so much more than that, and it kills Steve to admit it.

To Robin everything made so much sense since the very beginning. The quick glances Steve would throw Eddie's way, even when he's not doing or saying anything. How Steve would get all nervous when Eddie comments something about him or even refers to him. It was evident for her that Steve was slowly falling for Eddie.

But Robin didn't push him to do any confessions or force him to accept something he was probably not ready to accept. She knows how difficult it can be coming to terms with one's true identity when you've grown up seeing nothing but people freaking out when someone is different like that. However, she was lucky enough to have good experiences during her journey of self-discovery, finding a friend that love her no matter who she's attracted to. It's Steve the one who was there for her when she felt completely alone, finding comfort and strength in him to love herself the way she is.

She wanted to be there for Steve just like he was there for her and she wanted to be just as good as he was. After telling him she likes girls, everything has always been on her terms and Steve continued to give her the space and time to talk to him about the situation whenever she needed it. So, she wanted to give Steve his space and come to her when he was ready.

And she was just over the moon when Steve was comfortable enough to trust her with this. He knew she would understand, and of course she was as supportive as he was when the roles were reversed.

"It's...weird," Steve had said to her that one night in the woods, before the group had to find the hidden portal under Lover's Lake. "I know I still like girls. I mean, I was clearly in love with Nancy when we were together, but...I guess I like guys, too? Does that even make sense?"

"Of course it does! There's plenty of people who like both."

"Really? Is that a thing?" he asked, more relieved to hear he's not the only one that feels like that. "I just thought you could like one. Like, maybe...maybe I was just confused or I was just tricking myself into believing I liked girls when I only liked guys..."

"Pretty sure you can like one, all, or even no one," she interrupted, trying to calm him down. "Thing is, everyone is different. And your experience is not less important or less valid because it's not the conventional i-like-guys or i-like-girls type of thing. It's okay to be somewhere in between."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I mean, I've been thinking about this for a while and...I'm pretty sure I like both."

Robin smiled at his statement. "I'm happy for you, Steve. And you know I'll always be there for you," she says, trying not to get all emotional on him right now. "Except when you start liking a guy, I have no idea what to do in those cases."

Steve laughs at her last comment, looking down at his shoes as he did. "Well, about that...I, uh..."

"Okay, hold up," she interrupted, visibly excited to be hearing all of this. "Okay, I know I just said don't talk to me about boys but let's ignore I said that and please talk to me."

That made Steve smile, though he was still unable to look at Robin. He was just too nervous to do that. Instead, he looked ahead at the lake. "I think it's pretty obvious where this is going..."

"Oh, I know exactly where this is going, I just want to hear it from you."

"I've been thinking about the whole me-liking-boys thing recently because...I- I think I might like one?"

"You think you like one?"

"I do. I do like one," he quickly corrected. "Shit, I like one a lot."

"Well, I doubt it's Keith we're talking about here..." she started, making Steve visibly frown at her for hinting he would ever like someone like Keith. "So that would leave us with..."

"Hey, you two!" they were interrupted by the voice of Eddie. They both turned around to see the entire group waiting for them by the boat they were using to get to the portal. "Chat all you want after we find this stupid portal, okay?"

Robin immediately turned to look at Steve. "Your boyfriend looks kinda mad so we better go."

"Yeah," Steve agreed, following after her before he quickly realized what she actually said. "And he's not my boyfriend, Robin."

"Not yet!" she replied, walking faster to join the rest of the group, ending their conversation there.

Steve was awfully quiet, finally turning to look at Robin. "It's not that easy and you know it," he insisted. "It's like you said. We ask the wrong people and it's over for us."

"And like you said, I don't think Eddie is the wrong guy. Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

"You're just saying that because you're my friend."

"Believe me, I'm not," she quickly argued, leaning closer to him. "Steve, he's crazy about you. I wouldn't be saying this if I wasn't sure about it."

"He...he is?" Steve asks timidly, once again watching as Dustin and Eddie continued their imaginary battle.

"Yes! Trust me, he's too obvious. I'll be surprised if no one else has realized about it by now."

Steve was considering his options. It's not entirely false what Robin is claiming right now. He has noticed a few signs himself. How Eddie is always throwing ironic comments his way that could easily be seen as flirting when you don't think about the fact that they're two guys talking to each other. Or how quick he was to give him his jacket. Or how often he would catch Eddie looking his way the entire time he had his jacket on.

That seemed to encourage Robin, thinking she could have a chance to convince him. "You can't miss this chance to tell him, Steve. Whatever happens, it's better to try than not saying anything at all."

"How come you're so good at this, yet your love life is so screwed up?"

"It's called self-sabotage, dingus. It's like my biggest personality trait," Robin replied. "So, does this mean I convinced you?"

Steve shrugged. "I guess I can give it a try."

"Holy shit, I wasn't expecting this to work!" she visibly freaks out, excitedly standing up from her seat. "Are you going to talk to him now? Should I tell him to come over here? Oh, I can tell him I need something and then he follows me here and then I say some silly excuse like-"

"Robin," he says gently.

"I'm doing it again, right? The fast-talking thing...sorry. I'll go help Erica and Lucas and leave you to it."

"Don't be weird about this, okay? And if this doesn't work out you'll have to start taking the bus to school."

"And if it does work out, you have to be my driver for three months. Not just drive me to school, but anywhere I want."

"You know what? Deal."

"A deal it is," she said as she started to walk away. However, she stopped to turn around for a brief second, "I really hope this works, though. Not just so I can have a personal chauffeur, but because you two would look insanely cute together."

"You're being weird," Steve warned.

Robin lifts both of her hands up in the air, continuing to walk away to leave Steve alone. When it was just him, his attention focused back on Eddie and Dustin. Before he could regret it, he stood up and walked up to the two of them.

"Hey, look what we made!" Dustin says excitedly, showing Steve the weapon they created. A shield made with a trash can lid and nails.

"Looks good, man," Steve said, not really caring about that right now. His heart was beating rapidly as he turned to look at Eddie. "Can we talk?" Both Eddie and Dustin exchanged a look, beyond confused as to what was going on. Eddie looked back at Steve and shrugged, waiting for him to continue. "Uh, alone?" he had to clarify, feeling more embarrassed than ever in his entire life.

"Yeah, sure," was Eddie's response, standing up from the ground to follow Steve back to the van.

When Steve turned around, he noticed Dustin still looking their way with a confused look and Robin occasionally turning around to see what they were doing. Clearly, this wasn't what he had in mind when he said he wanted to "talk with Eddie alone".

"Can-can we...?" he asks, titling his head to the van.

Eddie didn't reply, simply walking forward to open the door of the van, waiting for Steve to walk inside before he did, closing the door behind him. All Steve could focus was the fact that Eddie just opened the door for him. And waited for him to walk inside first. He shouldn't have done that, so why bother? Why he felt like doing that? Oh, this was going to be very difficult.

Steve noticed Eddie leaning against the now closed door, arms crossed across his chest as he waited for him to say something. After all, it was him the one who wanted to talk. "You're scaring me, Harrington," he says after realizing Steve wasn't going to say anything. "What's up?"

"Well, I wanted to talk to you because...since we're going after Vecna and all...I- I thought this was the right time to tell you that I..."

Eddie's arms fall to each side of his body as Steve begins talking, looking more like he was expecting something than trying to figure out what was going on. "Yes?" he asks gently, the tone making Steve's heart almost skip a beat.

His mind was racing. It's not fair he's leaning against the door looking so incredibly pretty with his ripped jeans and long messy hair and those rings that look just so good on him and his eyes staring back at his own. How is he supposed to talk right now and not get lost in such beautiful eyes? How can he act normal when he is standing in front of him looking so painfully gorgeous? How is he supposed to think his next words when all he can think about is those ringed fingers holding his face while they share a much-awaited kiss?

"Hey," Eddie insisted, snapping Steve back to reality. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just...there's a lot in my mind," he muttered, feeling his cheeks beginning to burn, which only helped to get him even more nervous. "I wanted to talk to you because in case anything happens to us, I needed you to know that I like you."

Eddie froze in his spot, not knowing what to say at first. He was in complete disbelief, never in a million years expecting Steve to say something like that. "I guess you're okay too, dude?" he says, testing his luck before saying something incriminating.

"No, I don't mean it like that! I mean, I like you, like you. As in...more than friends?"

For a moment, Steve thought he screwed up. Because Eddie was standing there without saying anything and it was impossible for him to tell if that was a good thing or not. Eventually, he relaxed just a little when he noticed Eddie approaching him, though the fact that he was standing much closer now almost made his knees tremble.

It was only when Eddie was standing right in front of Steve that a smile appeared on his lips. "You like me?" he asks.

"I...yeah, I just said that..." Steve stutters, too nervous to properly reply.

"Say it again," Eddie pleaded.

After a brief silence, Steve replied with a barely audibly, "I like you." He could feel Eddie's hand gently cupping the side of his face, which only encouraged Steve to repeat, "I like you."

Eddie was dangerously close to him right now, his thumb softly caressing his cheek, their nose practically rubbing together and his lips almost touching his. The sensation of their bodies so close made Steve wrap his arms around Eddie's body, needing to have him fully pressed against his own. He wondered if Eddie could feel his heartbeats right now, truly hoping he was so he could get an idea of the power he holds over him.

"Again," Eddie whispers, their lips practically touching now.

"I like you, Eddie Munson," Steve complied, praying that would make him earn the kiss.

And that was exactly what happened, because as soon as he heard those words, Eddie crashed his lips against Steve's. It was obvious to them that both were waiting for this moment for a while now. It could be proven by the way Steve would hold him so impossibly close to his body, or how Eddie was practically holding onto his arm as they kissed, as if he was afraid Steve would move away.

Kissing Eddie is everything Steve was expecting and more. He's surprisingly gentle but so incredibly passionate it was hard for Steve to keep himself under control. The kiss was just so...Eddie. Like the type of kisses only he can give. Kisses envolved with such fierce, yet so soft. They were nothing but the representation of what Eddie Munson is. A seemingly intimidating and mean guy who carries the most precious soul. A freak with a heart of gold.

Steve never imagined a kiss would make him fall ten times harder for someone, yet here comes Eddie to once again prove to him that he knows absolutely nothing at all.

The kiss lasted just a few seconds, and for the two of them is has become the best moment of their lives. Eddie just couldn't seem to get enough of him, leaning closer to kiss Steve again, a gesture he gladly accepted. When they finally pulled away, Steve didn't let go of Eddie's body as he still held him close. Eddie move his hand away from Steve's face only to wrap both of his arms around his neck, one of his hands starting to play with the hair at the back of his head.

"So...that means you like me too?" Steve tried, still feeling his cheeks burning.

"I guess you can say that," Eddie grinned. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you."

"You did?"

"All the time," he replied. "I was practically throwing myself at you, you idiot."

"Wait, really? How come you never said anything before?"

"Yeah, I was about to confess my feelings for you in front of all your friends," he replied ironically. "I thought I was being obvious enough."

"Well, I'm terrible at reading signs so...no more of that, please. And-and don't call me Harrington anymore, it feels weird."

"What would you like me to call you, then?" Eddie asked, laughing at Steve when he saw his reaction after such question. "God, you're adorable."

Steve was evidently still very flustered, so after getting teased like that he made the gesture of letting go of Eddie, only for him to pull him closer, hugging him tightly. "I'm not," Steve protested, though accepted the hug anyway.

"You are," Eddie argued. "And I can't wait to remind you every single day."

That last comment made Steve smile, "every single day, huh?"

"Every single day," Eddie repeated.

"Honestly, I kinda like the sound of that."

Neither of them said anything else, not like there was a need to say anything when they can just stay in each other's arms for as long as they could before having to let go. To spend as much time as they could like this to make up for all the time they lost admiring each other in silence.

And for once, Steve let go of his worries about Vecna. All that really matters to him is the fact that he's here, right now, with Eddie. The knight finally getting the knight. The happy ending he so desperately wanted to have.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steddie fic #steddie fluff #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie fanfiction

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valeav31 · 3 years ago

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Run Away (Reiner x Reader) P3

Hey guys! So, you can read this a a separate shot or just read the others ones if you want a whole explanation

Warning: angst, smut

“Cum for me, cum for daddy,” he whispered in your ear, pounding into your core. You moaned loudly as he continued pounding into you. At the moment, you were bend in bed on all fours, Reiner thrusting his manhood into your already cream pie hole, as he pulled your hair back. “Come on, little slut, cum for me”

You could only nod, having no air or sense to answer. He pulled you harder from the hair, bringing your head close to his mouth and making your chests touch. He started fondling one of your breasts as he made you scream. “Reiner, please, I can’t hold it anymore,” you yelled, moaning at the end. “Please, I need to cum.”

“Come for daddy,” he whispered in your ear, licking your neck.

Suddenly, you felt your womb turn into knots, realizing all your juices into him. He growled in pain as he kept thrusting into you.

“Damn, I’m going to cum,” he cursed. “Do you want me to fill you with it, love?”

You could only nod, feeling his juices mix with yours seconds later. In relief, he pulled out of you, and the both of you fell into bed, panting and sweating. You rolled onto Reiner’s chest, falling asleep in his chest. He caressed your hair, whispering how much he loved you

Waking up, your arm stretched out, looking for Reiner. In fear, your eyes shot open, analyzing the room until your eyes fell into the empty closet. You sighed, bringing the blankets closer to your body. “Right, he is at war,” you whispered to yourself. You hated yourself for not holding him back, for not getting pregnant in the one year mark the Marley government had given you. Such failure had let him to sacrifice his person, increasing his PTSD, just so that you could stay home and be held as a threat against him.

Sighing, you changed clothes and was eating breakfast when the door to your house opened and a Marley soldier walked in, envelope in hand and telling you it was time to fight for your Motherland. No time to change, just enough to grab a picture of Reiner and his last letter and be forced into the battlefield.

*****

And that’s how you were in your current position, holding tightly to your gun as you heard bombshells explode next to you. Were you shaking? You shook your body and forced yourself to keep calm, knowing you had fought worse wars at Paradis.

No, you weren’t shaking because of the danger you were in, you were shaking because you finally glanced at the man you dearly loved and missed.

“He’ll take them out in no time,” said Gabi. “Reiner handles the Armored Titan better than anyone else.” You nodded and yet you were still afraid for him.

The last letter you had gotten from him explained how much his PSTD had grown, especially since he found out you were involved in the war. You loved him and wished no harm to him, promising to be alive until you met him. Ignoring every sense of disgust towards yourself, for helping the enemy rather than your people.

Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat as Reiner got his arm blown away in Titan form. Damn it, if you only had your ODM gear instead of a useless rifle. As Reiner kept shielding himself, he started to run in a circle, trying to destroy the other titan bombs, and you followed him with your eyes.

“I’m going to help him,” you said, not caring about the consequences. You jumped out of the drench and started running towards Reiner, not really having a plan, and ignoring Magad’s order. When you got closer you saw that Reiner was in a tight position, having those rifles against his head and no more than an arm to cover it.

“Reiner, cover yourself,” you yelled, killing a Titan that walked closer to you. Reiner glanced at you from afar. You weren’t supposed to be here, at least, magadth promised it. You used the titan as leverage to jump onto the walls and start slaying Asian soldiers with your rifle.

“Keep your eyes on the game,” yelled Porco as he took out the other rifles that were pointing at Reiner. The Armored Titan only nodded, going for the train, and taking it out. Even though he took some hits, he had done his part of the mission and he ran towards you. “Y/N, what are you doing here? Get on my shoulder, now,” he yelled angrily.

You followed his instructions, finally happy to be close to him. “I couldn’t bear to lose you,” you answered. He just sighed and ignored you, watching as the Beat Titan landed and threw a bunch of pebbles to the boats in the sea.

Yet, even you knew it, the enemy attacked with new technology, superior in velocity to Zeke’s throw. In fear, Reiner tossed you to a nearby wall and ran to cover Zeke.

“Reiner, don’t, come back,” you pleaded. “It’s going to kill you, please don’t do it.”

However, Reiner didn’t have time to react as the missiles went through him, leaving him in pieces on the floor. You jumped and ran towards him, tears rolling down your eyes. The war had finally been won but you hoped, yearned with all your heart, that Reiner wouldn’t be dead, not after everything you had gone through. As you reached him, you saw him after three years, handsome as ever yet bleeding heavily. But as you felt his pulse you sighed in relief …He was alive.

#attack on titan reiner #reiner angst #reiner smut #reiner x reader #aot season 4 #aot x y/n #aot fanfiction #manga fanfic #Spotify

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omiscurls · 3 years ago

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Heyhey! I couldn’t find your rules, so idk if this is allowed or not, and if it isn’t feel free to ignore this, but may I request Childe with a reader who has depression? Thank you

tough

a/n: hi!! sorry for that, the rules are added by now, i chose not to describe depression itself, because it looks different on everyone, and you may not relate to what applies to me, but i'm hoping you'll find this enjoyable instead!!

plot: character helping the reader out of a breakdown, or a bad headspace

contains: tartaglia, kaeya

warnings: bad copying mechanisms, low mental place, nothing too serious mentioned

tartaglia

now, he's a man of action less than words, even though he's good with those, too

and to add to that, he's also a very perceptive person - if some negative vibe lingers on you for too long, he'll notice right away

however, relying on his experience, he opts to give you space to figure it out on your own, first, he wouldn't like to be making a huge deal of something that was just a worse couple of days

it's when you don't show up at your usual dinner spot, that he gets a little tingle in his brain, telling him to not dismiss it this time.

and so, he makes his way over to your place.

"ya there?" you hear on the other side of the door, followed by urgent knocking, sort of breaking you out of a trance, but you can't find it in you to go and answer it. he'll go away, you think, even better. your apartment is messy, you're messy, too, and it's not the right time to be receiving visitors. so you stay quiet.

"you do know i know you're in there, right?" he speaks up again "the blinds would be down if you weren't"

come in, you want to shout, and although no voice leaves your throat, soon the door opens anyway.

"hey, what's up, you weren't on the- oh." he stops in his tracks in the middle of the corridor, and you're already mentally prepared to a snarky remark about your sorroundings, but the only thing he says is a lighthearted "why're you sitting on the floor?"

the first thing he thinks about is to level with you, so he plops himself down right beside you, and you bet it looks funny - you in yesterday's clothes, in a big, probably smelly, mess, and then a harbinger in full military outfit right beside you.

"i-" you try to say, but your throat seems too dry and worn out, so you opt for a whisper "look at his place"

he indeed does, hinting the small note of desperation in your voice.

"what about it?"

"it's a mess!" you sigh, covering your face with your hands, out of both embarrassment, and fatigue. you take a big breath before continuing "so i wanted to clean it up, i even brought all the... all the things, but it's so much stuff to do, and i'm tired, and- and i don't know!" you choose to stop as not to snap right then and there. "i can't even do my shitty chores right like an adult" you mumble, massaging your temples.

"and is sitting on the floor helping?" he simply asks, and for a second, you're almost mad at him for not being more... cooey and fuss over you a bit more. he sounds cold.

"what are you-"

"really, is it helping?" he repeats "because from how i see it, every little thing would seem bigger if you looked at it from this angle. come on" he nudges you before standing up, and offering a hand to lift you up. you, however, shake your head.

"i really can't deal with it today, childe, i'm sorry"

"just stand up" he pleas, and the second you take his hand, he helps you up in less than a second. when you're on his level again, he sneaks both his arms on the sides of your waist, and sort of sways around a little, before speaking again. "what if, what if we do it little by little? look, we'll start over there" he puts his hand on top of yours, and lifts your arm to point to the full sink along with his. "and that'd be it for today! and then tomorrow... actually, let's not make plans. we'll just pick something tomorrow, and do it then. does the sink sound like a lot to do?" he asks.

"do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to say no" you mutter, earning the heartiest and brightest laughter you've heard in days from him.

"always honest. but come on, i'll help." he rolls you out of his embrace, causing you to feel a sudden wave of cold, it was comfortable back there, you think.

however, as he works through the dishes with you, the pile does seem to lessen, and doesn't rule over your kitchen anymore. every time he hands you a plate to dry, he smiles as wide as he can, and it doesn't seem to bother him at all when you don't smile back.

"remember" he starts again, after a while of comfortable silence. he looks ridiculous, doing the kitchen duties in an outfit designed mostly to look presentable and slay enemies in it, but the look on his face is dead set. "the first lesson you've gotta learn before going off to battle something, is that the best defense is always, always to fight back. and if you don't think you can manage that, well, that's why nobody ever battles alone. it's common sense to have someone watching your back. and as for you, not only are you a great warrior yourself, but you've also got the best second-in-command willing to help you out. don't forget that."

kaeya

as for him, he's also perceptive and empathic, but the difference between him and tartaglia is that he does believe people have the right to figure some things out on their own, he's a firm believer in the magic of secrets

that's probably because he himself doesn't like to share too much about his deeply personal feelings

so he'd obviously see some wave of difficult emotions coming your way, but would he immediately start worrying? probably not

the guy doesn't have healthy copying mechanisms himself, don't think he expects those of others

every other night the two of you meet up at the tavern, kaeya always ordering wine, you asking the bartender for whatever was in store today, but it's never anything alcoholic.

and just like nearly always, you're seated at angel's share, him noticing you're not particularly in the mood for talking, and choosing to entertain you with as many stories of the day that went by as he can remember.

the waiter interrupts him, asking if your minds are already made up regarding the drink. now, kaeya always has you picking first, but since he sees you're still analyzing the card (as if you expected to find anything new), he goes first with a drink he knows charles makes really strong.

to his surprise, when it comes to you, you just mumble "i'll have the same he had"

before the waiter has a chance of writing that down, kaeya tells him that actually, you're gonna need a minute or two more, and to erase the order you've both put in.

as he walks away, the calvary captain's eyes pierce through yours.

"that's a pretty nasty drink you wanted there" he starts, feeling he can't let you handle your mess this time, preparing to dig a little deeper into what's on your mind.

you shrug your shoulders.

"hey" he speaks up a little firmer, hand moving to cover yours, and even though they twitch as to retreat from his grip, you let it be. "tell me what's up."

"nothing's <up>" you accentuate. "can't i even have a drink now?"

"obviously you can" he nods "as long as i know you're trying it just for the taste, and not for the strong kick it's gonna offer, cause that's a dangerous path that only leads to nasty places." concern shines through his gaze, and an encouraging smile is wandering somewhere in his expression, however his lips are still pressed into a tight line, the same he forms when he's either fighting or arguing.

you stay silent for a good long while, before sighing.

"maybe i want the kick. good, or bad, maybe i want to feel... something."

the sentence sounds all too familiar, as he shakes his head and takes your hand, leading you towards the exit.

"what're you-"

"you're obviously not in the right state to be in a bar, of all places" he states almost coldly "so i'm getting you somewhere safer."

the two of you leave the bar, and walk out into the cold of mondstadt's street, covered in the darkness of the night. you walk past him, not leveling up to him, just tagging along to whatever he's going.

it comes as a surprise, that you're neither headed for your apartment, nor his, nor the knights' headquarters. he's guiding you in an unknown direction, until you reach a dead end.

he clims up a small building, offering you a hand and shaking off your confused expressions and questions. "you'll see" he says. the two of you walk from roof to roof, and countless times you tell him it's ridiculous, but then, he jumps onto the city's wall, helping you out with two hands this time, sitting you down right next to him on the stone surface of the wall. it's a little wet from the night's humidity, and cold, and probably dirty too, but the moon shines right at you, and from this perspective, you see thousands of lights in houses, taverns and shops, from the bottom up to the cathedral.

going up from that, a calm and peaceful lake paints the landscape blue on the left, and even from up here, you see a sea of lampgrasses shining through the leaves of wolvendom forest. if you squint, lights are still on in dawn winery, and the path to liyue and all the other lands swirls around near diluc's house. there's so much you can see, even if the night limits your vision.

"i like to come here when i need to gain some perspective over what is happening in my life right now" kaeya speaks really softly and quietly, bordering on a whisper. "it's a beautiful view, even someone as insensitive to art as i am can see that, but other than that... it's huge. and even though it is, it's also alive. every single one of those beings whose lights are dying out as they slowly go to sleep one by one, they're alive. they're not a scenery, they're their own, individual worlds. and they all coexist with each other in such a clever manner, don't you think? they have their differences, they might even hate each other, or wish the worst upon the other's name, but from up here? they fit together like puzzles of one, big picture."

"that's a nice way to put it, for sure" you whisper, looking down onto your knees. his finger pushes your chin slightly to make you face him, and he smiles at you gently, thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek.

"you know, we each have our own worlds, built from scratch from such fragile materials. we have our worlds rise, shine, and crumble before our sights. we look over the ruins of them and think, this is the end of the world. there's nothing more, it's all dust now. but from up here, you see how many other worlds there are - everyone has their own. not everything that is happening in your world is true. you see it from first person's perspective, and therefore the view might be disturbed by many different aspects. you might not see the picture, you just see the broken puzzle fragment that can't fit with the rest, and you're ready to throw away the entire picture, without finishing it. but being here, it reminds me... the world doesn't end on the ruins you see. you can always ask someone to help you build them up again, and of course, you can expect it to fall into pieces once more, but this time, you'll keep in mind, there're-" he stopped, pointing to the city's lights. "so many people to help you raise it up to the clouds."

"your metaphor is really complex" you chuckle, but his face stays still.

"it's not the end of the world if your puzzle piece is broken. and the ruins are not unfixable if you feel too tired to build them up all by yourself. if anything, that's a start." his hand travels up to keep the hair from getting on your face, since the wind blows pretty hard on this height. "what do you say we start your puzzle once more, toghether?"

your friendly reminder that you can request things [here]

#kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya headcanons #tartaglia fluff #tartalgia #childe fluff #childe x reader #childe headcanons #childe #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #gender neutral reader

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noneatnonedotcom · 4 years ago

Note

Dark rwby smut:

Raven has Yang and Weiss hostage and won’t release them. It’s up to Jaune to challenge the bandit leader for the sake of his friend’s freedom.

A knight strode into a bandit camp with purpose.

It sounds like the start of a grand story, some fairytale you’d tell children before bed.

The truth was very different. Jaune Arc had long since abandoned the ideals of heroism. But there was one idea he held onto even now.

An Arc always kept his word.

That’s why he was doing this, he’d sworn to help his friends no matter what and by the gods if he had to take on the most dangerous bandit tribe in fucking Minstral then he would do so. An Arc NEVER went back on his word.

He ignored the squelching mud under his new boots. Or the way his armor sat a little heavier on him than he’d like. The new gauntlets were closer to a robotic hand than the armor most people thought of. A side effect of telling ruby that he was off to save her sister. He’d only just avoided muscle armor. Still, there were worse things than having a suit of armor tailor-made for you by the best blacksmith this side of the afterlife.

It at least let him look the part.

Still, he’d stalled long enough, time to deal with reality.

Raven stood before him.

“You’re a long way from home, boy,” she said, not looking up from the drink she was enjoying. The scantily clad Weiss poured for her. Both her and Yang were chained around the neck.

“I’m here for them”

“Then you have the ransom?” she asked with a raised brow

“Yeah, I'll just be giving it to you in steel rather than gold,” he said, working hard to keep his voice calm as he drew his blade. He didn’t deploy the shield; he'd need the element of surprise if he wanted any chance of surviving this.

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

Raven was worried, she’d heard about the arc family, hell she’d gone to school with the boy's father. There was a good reason why the area around the arc ancestral lands was so safe. Everyone who crossed the family died, or worse.

And his mother was definitely worse. A tribal just like her she’d fought Arc to prove a point, now thirty years later she was still a breeding sow for the family. Her warrior stock probably only made them more powerful. And now here he was ready to take her daughter and the Schnee.

If she had it her way she’d just give the boy both and be done with it. They weren’t worth her head. But that wasn’t an option. No, instead she’ll just have to offer something better than the satisfaction of her death.

“Very well boy, I'll take your steel. And if you manage to beat me I’ll even give you my body as well”

She only prayed that the Arc would accept it

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Jaune wasn’t sure what to do, frankly, he wanted nothing to do with a woman who abandoned her daughter but if he didn’t take the deal then he’d likely be jumped by her entire tribe, who had begun forming a circle around the last patch of dry grass that hadn’t been turned to mud from them walking through it.

“Fine,” he said, annoyance in his voice, he just wanted Yang and Weiss back home with the team where they belonged now he’d have to deal with this too.

He took his place across from her, taking his sword in a two-handed grip that his father had tried teaching him when he was a boy. It was Pyrrha who taught him how to fight with a shield. Who taught him to protect others but jaune wasn’t looking to protect here. Only to slay.

There was no signal, Raven just rushed him. Normally he wouldn’t have been able to react to the speed. But months with Nora had taught him to use her peripheral vision. The added context to the attack that was about to hit him prevented panic and allowed him to dodge the blow as an ear-splitting screech tore through the air as dust-enhanced steel met angled armor. It was only sheer luck that let his pommel slam into her chin.

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

The boy was strong, Raven had a habit of toying with those weaker than her but for strong opponents, she tried to end it in a single strike. Using her aura to launch herself like a rocket at her enemy then causing another boost of aura to swing her blade fast enough to make a sonic boom like a bullet.

Not only had this jaune blocked it, but in the same fluid motion, he’d counterattacked. And now he was coming at her.

Gods’ why didn’t she just give him the girls?!

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

Jaune stumbled forward catching himself just in time to almost run but not quite. Still, he was out of time bracing his shoulder he jumped forward slamming into her gut just as her sword would have split his head.

He’d told ruby he needed a helmet!

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Raven was knocked on her ass and fear began to take hold, she couldn’t die here, this boy, this man was too strong and

NO!

She would defeat him, rolling to her feet she charged as much aura as she could into her blade and swung down, she’d be exhausted but the monster would be dead. Off to the side, she noticed that her daughter had freed herself and the Schnee. That would be a problem but it was too late for her to save her little boy toy.

Just as her daughter screamed the world went white

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

Jaune felt more aura coursing through him than ever before. And down there in front of him, on her back trying to crawl away in fear was raven.

“I give up!” she screamed as jaune lifted his sword, “please just take them and go!”

Jaune glared at the woman “I’d love nothing more than to leave your weak tribe and be fucking done with this” he said honestly. The longer he stayed here the more likely it was these guys would jump him. And even if he got lucky with raven he doubted he could take all of them “but unfortunately I made you a promise”

With that, he began to unarmor himself. Taking a step toward the retreating woman with each thunk of the heavy armor falling away until as he stripped his pants and showed off his cock to the world he once more sighed pulling raven back by her legs to him. He hoped yang and Weiss weren’t watching, he was pretty average and didn’t have much to show off. Then again, he didn’t have much to compare him with.

All the guys at beacon refused to shower with him in the locker room

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OF COURSE THE BOY WAS A MONSTER, HE WAS A FUCKING ARC!

He was carrying around a foot of cock and it was surely gonna ruin her. But as Raven tried to crawl away, her own aura utterly depleted she felt him drag her back in front of him by her ankle. Her hands pulling up tufts of grass in vane as she tried to avoid her fate

“Just hurry the fuck up and strip raven, I have better shit to do!” came the annoyed voice of the monster behind her

What?

She froze and jaune growled in frustration ripping her clothes apart and lining himself up with her snatch

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She was tight, that was about all Jaune could say on the subject as Raven squirmed and struggled underneath him. He really wasn’t enjoying this. She was too shallow, too unused to him and SHE KEPT FUCKING CRAWLING AWAY!

Like, he got it, it was probably annoying to have to deal with him shoving himself into her, but damn it this wasn’t his fucking idea. And an Arc always keeps their word, so here he was trying to hold this whining bitch down so he could finish up and be done the entire fucking thing.

Finally getting tired of her bullshit jaune wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled her back into him. She screamed louder as he hammered into her, probably pissed that he was touching her hair like yang would be. Damn it he was starting to lose his boner! Think about Ruby Jaune! Think about that big, bubbly, Rubooty!

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

Raven was going to die, she was sure of it, his massive cock was sticking out of her stomach and she could feel her body struggling to accommodate him as he shoved that fucking pillar deep into her. Having already gone as far as her womb.

Then he told her he was halfway in! The fuking idiot didn’t seem to get that there was NO MORE FUCKING ROOM FOR HIM.

She screamed as her body was flooded with pleasure as he pulled her hair. Bringing her back into him as he fucked her like a common whore. Her daughter was watching with her friend and… oh gods he just got bigger!

He must have seen Yang masterbating to this.

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

He smacked Raven’s ass, disappointed it didn’t jiggle like Ruby’s when she ran, and struggled to maintain the fantasy. With a grunt, he pushed in deeper and held her there as his first orgasm finally came.

Thank the Gods’

Only two more holes to go.

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Raven thought it was over when she felt herself fill with cum, groaning in relief as jaune pulled out of her now leaking cunt. Ruined for all the world to see. But then she felt herself being pulled up by her hair. And suddenly she was being throat fucked, her vision filled by a sneering Jaune.

She felt herself cum again as he used her

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It was official, raven sucked at this. It was a fucking blow job! How hard could it be? Nora had given him plenty when she was bored on the road and Ren couldn’t keep up with her anymore. Let alone when he imagined Ruby to be able to do it. No, that wasn’t fair. Maybe she was just out of practice. After all, it's not like many guys around here would give her the time of day.

Okay Jaune just lay close your eyes and imagine Ruby, you can do this

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He was thinking about someone else, Raven was sure of it now, the way he kept his eyes closed. The way he tried to force her deeper. Was it Yang? Was that why he was here to save her? She didn’t know she didn’t care. Right now that massive dick was being used for her, it was hers!

Her nose filled with his scent, her tongue slipping out from her mouth to lap at his balls. Oh gods what a man. To take her so utterly. To ruin her and have her be just another of his conquests. She wept with joy as she felt him cum down her throat.

She couldn’t give this up

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Jaune stared down at the clearly delirious Raven, he was a little worried that he’d gone too far as he had forgotten to let her breathe. Normally he’d just wait for the tap on his thigh but she obviously didn’t know about that.

Oh well, just anal left and he could head home with yang and Weiss. He hoped they weren’t too bored.

“Turn around slut,” he said, trying to sound authoritative. He’d heard girls like that, and he was willing to try with Raven since it didn’t really matter if she didn’t like it. Not like he was ever gonna see her again

He was pleasantly surprised to find he was right as he watched Raven squeal in glee before she put herself face down into the grass. Huh… good to know, maybe Ruby would like it if he used his leader’s voice?

Lining up with the older woman’s ass Jaune decided it was about time to wrap this up so he wasn’t gonna go with the slow and steady pace he had before

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Raven’s world was one of sensations alone as she felt her master slam his cock into her ass. Her eyes swam with colors and her body twitched as she felt orgasm after orgasm. Pain and pleasure mixing in a delirious cocktail that her brain drowned in. and her hands, no longer being used to hold her up, Rubbed along the imprint his cock made in her. Trying to give him the same pleasure she felt

Every breath was praise for him.

This was heaven.

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Raven was annoying as hell.

“iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouILOVEYOU!”

“Please just shut the fuck up Raven!” Jaune screamed back as he tried to finish himself off. Groaning in relief as he felt another set of mouths on his balls. Turning around he saw Yang and Weiss doing their best to help him through this chore. They were great friends and jaune owed them for this.

What they lacked in skill they made up for in enthusiasm. And Jaune soon found himself about to cum slamming home in the bandit queen jaune moaned in relief as he flooded raven’s body with his seed. Slowly pulling the still hard cock out of the twitching mess of a woman and letting Yang and Weiss try to clean him up.

Oh yeah, he owed these two a lot. Though he did come to save them in the first place. But that was only to help his friends so yeah, he’d still owe them.

Nodding in agreement with his train of logic, he said out loud “welp time to go home” to his surprise the Raven opened a portal to …. Qrow?

OH HEY, THERE WAS RUBY!

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Ruby was a very happy girl, her sister was safe, as was her bestie Weiss. And Raven had even learned the error of her ways. Yeah, today was great.

It was also great because she was slamming her nice thicc ass back on Jaune’s dick like nature intended. Honestly, what was Raven thinking trying to take a dick this amazing with an ass like that? At least Yang had the common sense to use her tits to get jaune off. And Weiss…. Weiss was willing to help however she could.

So that’s why she let her sister and friend join in on her fun with her boyfriend.

Slamming her ass down on his dick faster, Ruby relished the attention that was on her as Raven whimpered in the corner.

Yeah, Yang and Weiss got to help, but Raven had to study hard if she wanted to be a good slut. That’s why she was being forced to watch her and Jaune go at it for hours on end.

It totally wasn’t because ruby liked putting the snobby bitch in her place. Ruby would never do that.

Moaning in pure pleasure as she arched her back and Jaune came inside her. Ruby smiled before resuming her work with a kiss from Jaune.

And they all lived happily ever after

#rwby #smut #questionable consent #jaune just wants to go home #ruby is a happy girl #you are not immue to hot dorky blonde

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sanchoyo · 2 years ago

Text

arc v 22 - 30 thoughts!!! whew these eps. set up stuff is important. also, good masumi yuzu moments.

-my god. yuya literally accidentally taking yuzus polymerization card from her and making it his thing when she practiced so hard with it. FUCKing apt metaphor for how I feel she should be the protag and shes being robbed of her role (im sorry I genuinely have nothing against yuya but shes so much more interesting to me! she feels like a classic protag!) im glad he gave it back at least…I was afraid she'd refuse it for some reason…

-I do love yuyas random ITS SHOWTIME english. tmm moment. (theres a lot of random english mixed into this series actually and it always makes me like :D!!! lol I understand!!! hehe)

-uhhh the tall fortune teller lady trying to look at yuyas fate fr and the glass ball SHATTERING AND BREAKING IN HALF IS PROBABLY BAD, THOUGH.

-24 gave some veeeery interesting implications. yuto tells yuzu fusion is the 'enemy' and weve SEEN a synchro (guy on motorcycle, so I assume synchro at least) fighting yuto too!! so. oh my god it is all the dimensions vs xyz. WHAT DID XYZ DO. THATS MY FAV CMON!!! -also very um. interesting in the implications of gx and 5ds being on different timelines I think since the implication is theyre pulling from diff dimensions all at once, right? (possibly diff timelines on top of that, since im p sure even tho I havent seen him, that ive heard arc v kaito is Kind of a Different Kaito from Zexal Kaito. whatever that may mean. canon/timeline divergence???? im SO confused LMAO I thought 5ds was a straight shootoff from gx/dm! I know zexal makes things a bit fucky since I think it implied 5ds didnt Happen, but?? before that I assumed it was a straight line...am I wrong tho...(dont actually answer I wanna figure it out on my own..)

-masumi!!!! being a BOSS at dueling and her two lil dudes being SUCH hypemen for her. we love itttt

-idk if theyre setting shun up as a bad guy or whatever or deeply traumatized. but everytime he xyz summons im like yessss king slay (but not my girl masumi!!!) 16400 attack monster!!!!! with an epic fire bird!!! im obsessed w his aesthetics if nothing else. kinda epic hes putting ppl in cards actually to draw reiji out and wants to take him hostage. i think i side with him bc hes at least cool about it. if youre gonna be morally questionable your vibes better fuck severely, and his do.

-yuzu kinda having a hotgirl summer moment by falling in love with an emo version of her bff LOL get it girl!!!

-oh shit LMAO REIJI STRAIGHT UP SAYING 'no my dad doesnt give a shit about me, taking me hostage would not work' with a straight face!!! DUDE U OK. this IS ygo so daddy issues come standard with every character but CHRIST. and shun being like 'wtf do u mean' HE SAID IT OUTRIGHT DUDE. DONT BE DENSE.

-shun getting told by reiji 'i have ONE condition' then WALKING AWAY BEFORE TELLING HIM and shun being like HEY?? dude this guy has been assaulting ppl/trapping them in cards and ur just?? walking away??? reiji has massive balls and is so funny (I know its more intended to be a cliffhanger, but its ygo. the solution is gonna be to do a series of duels, of course)

-junior, jr youth, youth in the tournament, so being like, little kids (I assume like 5-12ish?) then middle schoolers 13-15? then the youth class beng teenagers up to 18? thats my assumption bc 'pros' seems to indicate adults, and pros arent in the tournament. reiji specifies this is a tournament to find 'spears to fight' for him. WHY are you using CHILDREN instead of pros dude??? christ with your resources theres no NEED for that right???

-but hes fighting his dad and claims to be on the same side as shun, which. surprised me ngl. reiji team xyz!!!! win for the gays everywhere!!! and he has daddy issues!!!!!!!!!!! king.

-honestly, it raises the question of who the 'good' guys are in this battle? reijis up to use child soldiers and to work with a guy who is willing to trap ppl in cards. yet yuto made a point to say its bc they lost friends and want to protect ppl. we dont know what the other side is fighting for. it FEELS like both sides are willing to do Whatever Morally Grey things they need to, which is SUPER interesting. I mean, we havent SEEN the other side at length yet! except sora, who it was on SIGHT for when he saw yuto! so I'm willing to bet hes got the same 'whatever it takes' attitude…I want to know WHYYYY theyre fighting!!!)

-theres a duel school where idols go to learn to duel??? THATS SO CUTE. mikiyo naname ilu i know ur gonna show up ONE time but cute design

-no one told yuya hed be doing the lil pre-tournament speech!! yes he might want to be an entertainer but my god anyone would be anxious with like zero prep or warning! tf nico

-one of the announcers says juniors solid vision ar stuff is 'very soft like a sponge' why the hell is all of it not like that?? its fine for anyone over like 13 to get injured dueling ig! lmao!

-omg masumi being like 'tf are u talking abt shun has always been on our team' GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS MOMENT LMAOO (or some level of brainwashing, who knows, it IS yugioh)

-its refreshing to see some good parents in ygo who are involved for once, lol, all the kids parents there to watch them duel and cheer them on is sweet!

-layra is like. Deeply Traumatized and just seeing the councilwomen sends them into a PANIC I need to run into traffic to protect them (the subs call them a boy but?? quick google says girl so for NOW I'm being neutral w pronouns until further confirmation from the show ig) they were up there with reiji earlier too! tf are u making a traumatized child duel for dude! losing favor points with me very quickly reiji. putting ppl into cards is nbd but traumatizing kids? no. gotta draw the line somewhere man

-ayu's deck is aquarium themed!!! my god thats SO cute all the kids have rly cute themes. but she forgot she cant attack on turn one…girlie thats the basics…(everyone was cheering her on for the mistakes and encouraging her which is sweet tho)

-then its extra sad when ayu loses and still has ppl comforting her and being sweet and layra having NO ONE ???? EXCEPT REIJI WHO JUST OFFERS (1) HEADPAT. also 'niisama' yeah I expected as much, ygo rival Standard. give ur sib a HUG or something. (maybe theyre touch adverse, I dont know. they do seem. Deeply Traumatized sjfkjnkh)

-lmaooo sora and yuzus friendship Continues to grow on me. his pic of her in his contacts is her smacking yuya with her fan! and she calls him to be like 'YOU BETTER COME ROOT FOR ME OR ELSE' i love how she combats his very wishy washy noncommittal attitude…he says its bc hes her teacher but cmon u guys are friends, prob more than anyone shes soras friend fr by now right?

-YESSS YUZU MASUMI DUEL theyre both doing great I LOVE their dynamic in my mind THIS is what a ygo protag and rival should feel like (sorry to reiji, but he just doesnt feel rival-y enough yet to me!! cannot even explain it) the gay instinct to have a rival. the whole 'im better than you' attitude, the fiery competitiveness…wanting to prove them wrong, the thinking abt them so much u can predict their moves..its SO spicy. then the giving of the red rose card after getting saved by yuzu…masumi? are u perhaps. fellow gay?

-despite all of my efforts sora is growing on me. hes SUCH a brat and is honest about it (and doesnt rly do the whole fake cutesty thing as much as Id expected he would) I think hes actually been as honest as he can, maybe? like I assume theres a good reason he hasnt told the others hes..involved in some kind of?? inter-dimensional battle?? situation??? Im not entirely sure I think hes gonna be a full out traitor or anything, but the others will prob be upset when they find out he's been withholding info…but I 100% think hes some kind of child soldier who BELIEVES his side is right, just like im sure shun feels real justified sealing ppl into cards! (and unlike shun we havent SEEN sora DO anything bad yet. I just kinda think he HAS based on his deck being so creepycute and him not being straightforward, but again, him continuously asking if he was even allowed to be teachign yuzu stuff makes me think hes taking orders from..someone...) him so mad shun didnt stick around to see yuzu's duel was so funny. I dont WANT him and yuzu's silly lil friendship to end! im attached now! even tho I KNOWWW hes sus! :(

-in the crowd you can see ppl wearing cute duel monster accessories, like one girl had a dark magician girl headband/visor thing! very cute, wish we saw more things like that. in pokemon anime they do that a lot and its always such a delight…I want more duel monster cosplay moments! or references in charas outfits!

-ok yuya being the damsel during gongenzakas duel while yuzu is the one yelling, telling gon not to worry is……furthering my idea that yuzu is main chara and yuya is in the position of side character of different gender than main character (who is often a damsel or person to worry over the most). hes the anzu/kotori of the show. to me. JKJSDH (also, gongenzaka, is perfectly nice and fine but its so hard for me to care deeply about him aaaahg even with the episodes centered around him…hes so straightforward and steady, tho. good for him.)

-….the guy who gongenzaka's dueling should be disqualified. he had his goons try and jump yuya! god why isnt he automatically disqualified! doesnt the broadcast pick up audio?? he like, admits to it!

-....is shingo supposed to be yuya's rival actually, instead of reiji? ...he doesnt feel like a rival either though!!! or if he is it feels one-sided!!! yuzu was more ready to fight him than yuya was!!! jkahjkf anyway that duel is up next episode which I wont start tonight...but I'm excited to see more shingo. bc I think despite his best attempts at being a threat hes super silly actually...

#arc v #sanchoyorambles #im SURE these are probably unpopular opinions when it comes to the yuzu yuya stuff btw jksdfhk and thats ok #maybe my opinion will change! 30 eps into a ygo series is still pretty early into it!#i think this series has around 150?#so yeah not even halfway in!#btw should i have like a liveblogging tag...for arc v specifically??#so it doesnt get lost in my general arc v tag...#hmm...#how about #sanchoyo liveblogs arc v #there we go :)

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tsukikoayanosuke · 3 years ago

Text

"Senior Riddle. Am I the hero in this story?"

Riddle looked down from the ladder he was standing on toward Jonah who had stopped painting the rose and instead sat on the ground. "Why are you asking that?" he asked.

"I don't know. I feel like everyone sees me like that, don't you think?" Jonah sighed, his hand idly stirring his paintbrush in the bucket of red paint. "I mean four overblot in a row, I'm always there, somehow, 'saving' them." He looked up briefly at Riddle. "I saved you. Does that make me a hero?"

Riddle blinked before turning to the half-painted rose in front of him. That was honestly a good question, but something that Riddle wouldn't imagine came out from Jonah's mouth. He decided to answer, "It depends."

"On what?"

"How you define a hero." Riddle reached for the rose and brought his red-coated paintbrush before continued his coloring. "If being a hero means being worship by everyone in school, if they see you as a god, the special one, then no." He let out a small chuckle. "You're the same reckless idiot since the first day."

He heard a small rustle on the grass as Jonah stood up. "Well, what is your opinion on me?"

Riddle finished the last stroke as he ponder on the question. How is the best way to describe it? The way his chest always hammers a bit too fast when Jonah smiles at him. How his cheeks feel hot when he holds his hands. It was a strange feeling, something that he never experiences before

"I see you as a friend." He decided to settle as he slowly make his way down the ladder before standing face to face with the one-eyed boy. "As someone very dear to me. What you say is correct and you did 'saved' me, but that doesn't mean I have to hero-worship you. You don't see me kneeling in front of you for a marriage proposal."

He ended with a teasing smile, which also made Jonah chuckled.

"So, since I'm not a hero, in your eyes at least, then I can do whatever I want, right?" Jonah asked again.

Riddle shrugged. "Nobody is stopping you."

The boy in front of him let out a hum as he nodded as if he was considering a retort. But then, he said, "Senior Riddle, I want to be a villain."

What?

"I don't mean a literal villain." Jonah waved his hand, stepping back from Riddle, giving himself space from the still-shocked prefect. "Just... breaking the rule a little bit. I'm pretty sure we can find a plothole in the school rules somewhere." He grinned, almost child-like, but there was an underline of something sinister underneath. "We have done this before, we can do it again."

"What are you talking about? We've never broken the rule," Riddle tried, not really understanding what he was trying to respond.

Jonah laughed. "Oh, come on, Senior Riddle. You really think that we're actually the good guys in the whole golden contracts mess?"

He stepped forward, but Riddle took a step back. He didn't like this. This is not Jonah at all. But Jonah didn't seem to notice, he just kept talking and walking, backing Riddle until he accidentally knocked the paint bucket behind him.

"I was the first one to oppose Azul. I was the one who kicked start that war. Me, and you to an extend, were the bad guys in Azul's story."

"But following your logic, Azul was the bad guy in our story," Riddle tried to reason. "It happened to me too, as you know. I thought I was doing the right thing and Ace was the 'bad guy' in my story, but I was that in his. There's never a clear line in this."

"Are you saying this only because you don't want to see me as a villain?"

"Huh?"

The smile on Jonah's face didn't look like what Riddle used to like. He was grinning, smirking. "It's pretty funny, Senior Riddle," Jonah said in a low voice, bringing his face closer to Riddle, and for once in his life, Riddle was afraid of him. "Are you scared of opposing me? Are you scared of being my enemy? What if I become the villain in your story, then you have to be the hero who slays the evil once and for all."

"Don't say that." Riddle gritted his teeth. "I would never hurt you."

"I know, I know." Jonah huffed in amusement. "I'm worried too, you know?" He brought up a hand and Riddle froze when it cupped his cheek. It wasn't warm, not like how Jonah touched him many times before. "I don't want to be away from you. I would do anything to stay on your side."

"Jonah..."

"Would you do that for me too?" Jonah brought his face even closer, the tip of their nose nearly touching. "You're willing to give up your unique magic to save me back then, and I'm forever grateful for that. You were the hero in my story at that moment."

"I..." Riddle gulped. Jonah was smiling at him, almost as gentle as he used to, but doesn't quite reach it. But it didn't fail to make Riddle loosen his guard for a moment. "I just want to keep you safe. I'll do anything for that."

"Anything?"

Riddle gave a small nod, before reaching for the hand that cupped his cheek. It was still cold, but it was something. "Yes. Anything?"

"Then..."

Riddle never realized, or maybe chose to push it out of his mind, the way Jonah's eye glowed, almost alluringly. It never register to him how Jonah's voice echoed in his mind. It was as if Jonah was the siren and Riddle was the poor sailor who got caught in the beautiful voice.

"This is your captain's order..."

Just some writing practice to prepare for the future of this fic. We need more manipulation. We need more 'villain' MC in general. I have the keyboard! I'll make charming manipulative Jonah if I want and no one can stop me! Also, you can see I'm rewatching some early DSMP videos XD

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland oc #twst fanfic #twst fic #riddle rosehearts #jonah argentum (my oc)

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electronicdelusionstarlight · 4 years ago

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Boethia’s Bidding

Many people remember Mephala’s cut quest from Skyrim, about Baalgruf’s kids being corrupted by the Daedric Prince’s whispers and slaying their own father. It leads to a general worsening for the hold since Baalgruf’s brother is a far worse Jarl than him, even if he does instantly join the Imperials as soon as he gains power, and ends with you betraying one of the few Jarls who trusted in you from the very start in a far worse way than you would be able to do in Vanilla by siding with the Stormcloaks.

Everyone knows about that cut quest.

But how many people even ever heard about Boethia’s Bidding till this post came along?

Boethia’s Bidding is a cut continuation quest for the vanilla Boethia’s quest, Boethia’s Calling. After slaying her former champion and gaining the Ebony Mail, the prince will appear to you and ask you one final show of power and loyalty to them.

You will need to go to Solitude, and slay Jarl Elisif as she’s wrecked by Paranoia and fear at the plots happening all around her.

It’s a very stealth/speech oriented quest. Boethia’s machinations have left Elisif a nervous wreck, locked up in her room and armed in fear of potential assassin, unwilling to see anyone, the security in the palace tripled.

You will either sneak inside (in which case if they find you in a “forbidden” zone the guards will turn hostile) or you can talk your way inside to the steward, and convince to let you talk to her as her friend/thane, or even become her personal bodyguard, all the while being escorted by at least ONE guard.

It seems like an interesting, stealth/assassin oriented quest honestly, but I’m not here to talk about this.

So, you get inside Elisif Room, posing as her bodyguard, and she tells you this.

Image Description: Elisif Direct Quote from the cut quest: "I'm glad they finally believed me. About the assassin I mean. It's been so hard since my Torygg passed. No one takes me seriously. So how's this work exactly? Do you just kind of stand there on the look out? That's what Bolgeir does. Well, he sort of looms more than stands. Bolgeir's loyal, but even he doesn't do what I ask. Case in point, this whole assassin thing. Well at least I have you now. Look at me ramble... Well, I guess I'll go about my business sulking in here. You can stand over there in the corner watching for assassins."

No one fucking takes Elisif seriously. Ever. The steward will berate her suspicions when you ask him about assassins, and everyone will simply go “grief must have make her go mad, poor girl.”

Everyone underestimates her and shit, and you MIGHT think this quest is trying to remedy on that, especially since her worries are funded, instead it seems the only way you can end this quest is by killing Elisif.

After you do it, Boethia will appear and congratulate you for your doing, and... seemingly give you nothing but their respect. Erikur (The thieves guild plant) will become the new Jarl of Solitude, hence him having Jarl dialogues and the Jarl title in game (I always assumed he was supposed to be the Stormcloak Jarl, but this makes it even worse somehow).

The quest is unfinished so we don’t know what would Elisif’s death bring to the also unfinished Civil War questline.

We have to keep in mind a couple things tho, such as Boethia’s shrine being very close to Winshelm, and Stormcloak Alligned guards and soldiers commenting on how their cause seem to have been favoured by “Daedric Nobility” itself... when they are not calling Elisif a bitch rotting in oblivion that is.

Since we know for a fact from Elder Scrolls Legends lore that Boethia was directly supporting the Thalmor War Effort, it’s not difficult to say who actually asked the prince for Elisif’s death, or why would they decide to support the Stormcloaks in such a way. Erikur, the new Jarl who has close commercial ties with both the Dominion, the Empire, the Thieves Guild AND the Stormcloaks, is ALSO heavily implied to have had an hand in the assassination, without however tying it to the Dark Brotherhood for some reason.

We can also be glad they didn’t decide to add this quest to the game either. Elisif is already an INCREDIBLY wasted character in Vanilla, to waste and ruin her even more by simply fridging her out of nowhere and with no reward, only to then have her be cursed by her enemies as the man who plotted her murder seats on her throne all smug about it.

There is also another thing we need to keep in mind however, and that’s for the possibility that this, again, unfinished quest is missing other possible options. Boethia tells you a very specific line when you finish this quest after all:

Image Decription: “Remember always this: You need answer to no authority, neither mortal, nor divine... As you will it, so it shall be.”

The divine part is particularly important. Boethia is demanding for you to do their bidding (title drop), yet at the same time they claim everything should be done by your own free will. Maybe there IS a way to finish the quest without killing Elisif, to spite the Deadric prince by your own free will and not kill her.

Erikur is involved, so say there actually IS an assassin in the Blue Palace among the many, seemingly useless thanes and housecarls in Elisif court, among all her servants or guards? Maybe you have to beat them to the time to kill Elisif, or in turn you can also save her from them. You save Elisif, expose Erikur who is put in Jail/executed, his sister becomes the new Thieves Guild Plant for their missions, and Elisif now either trusts you alot and is willing to follow your advice and shit, or better yet has finally understood that she needs to be her own woman and shit, meaning that if this happens before season unending in season unending she will be far more assertive and will be far more proactive alongside Tullius, but in case of Stormcloak victories she will also die (In which case Erikur gets in power) as she attempts to assassinate Ulfric and probably dies in the process. (which you can stop or not, in which case the rebellion is in shambles even if Skyrim is indipendent now, and everything sucks even more than it would under Ulfric since the next in line for the throne is Galmar).

Either way after you find the second assassin and actually save Elisif (Maybe have hearts and apples involved for some nice Snow White symbolism? Important for later), either gaining her trust or making her a shrewder ruler as a result, maybe even both, Boethia will appear to you when you are finally alone.

They will congratulate you to have “outplotted” the lord of plots, much like Hircine congratulates you for hunting the hunters during his own quest, and for having followed your own free will, especially after having literally murdered a guy who had started doing the exact same thing (following his free will rather than Boethia’s orders), which would make you either incredibly stupid or incredibly far sighted, since now Elisif is on the path to become a ruler following the spirit of Boethia’s teaching, if indirectly, and you will be her trusted advisor, the only one who believed her when she realized there was a traitor in their midst, giving you (and Boethia as her champion) much power in turn.

Of course, this is me giving Todd way too much credit. The quest was probably as set up as it was in the scripts to the letter because Bethesda can’t stand the thought of a Girlboss winning, it was just never implemented, and all this new way to end it was never intended to exist, but you know, it’d be really nice if we did something with Elisif outside of the way she’s already treated in canon.

It’d be cliche in a way, and it’d be not as well written as I wished it was, but it would still be SOMETHING MORE than the way she’s treated in canon.

You know... Elisif the Fair... becoming Elisif the Girlboss. Under Boethia’s blessing. And with the Dragonborn kneeling at her side as her vizier and enforcer.

A Wicked Hunter befitting of the Fairest Queen of them all.

Wouldn’t that be rad?

#skyrim #elisif the fair #elder scrolls #tes lore #skyrim lore #skyrim mod #there's a mod that puts the cut quest back as it is unfortunately #boethiah #boethiah's calling #boethiah's bidding

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missinghan · 5 years ago

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countless skies upon me ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : fantasy; action; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 16,5k.

❖ warnings : explicit language, mentions of blood + violence

❖ summary : when you stumble upon the notoriously skilled swordsman of Kalmburg, your heart finds itself wanting to get closer to his.

❖ a/n : this is the full extension of this blurb that I wrote impulsively after rewatching an old anime, please give swordsman minho a whole lot of love 🖤

prologue.

Minho’s wooden sword gets knocked out of his grasp, landing onto the floor with a loud series of clattering noises. The little boy widens his eyes when the tip of another wooden sword hovers over his stomach and he looks up to be met with the stoic gaze of his mentor.

“What did I tell you yesterday, Minho?”

“That I need to make more progress on improving my reaction time,” he answers grimly and rubs his forearm, head hanging low in shame. “I need to know the timing of the enemy like the back of my hand and use my own timing in which they don’t expect.”

His mentor retreats his sword swiftly, humming, “You got distracted, you weren’t observing my stance before I lunged at you. By narrating the enemy’s preparation, you can partially map out their movements, when and where they’re aiming for. That’s why you were taken aback and this allowed me to disarm you with little effort.”

“But master!” Minho pries stubbornly. “It’s not very fair if an opponent can’t fight with their sword, is it? A sword is supposed to be the coil of a swordsman’s strength. It’s all we’ll ever have.”

A fatherly smile dances on his mentor’s lips this time. “Strength is simply an illusion, there are far more important things,” he places a warm hand on Minho’s shoulder, speaking softly.

“And it doesn’t matter if you still have your sword or not, fighting isn’t an obligation, it’s a choice. A choice whether you’re going to fight until the very end or not.”

one.

Market stalls crowd the route, selling sacks of nuts and dried fruit, grilled meat hanging on lines after lines of roasting skewers. Powdered spices lay in rust red and dusty yellow and bright green piles spill from sacks as large as feed bags. Mixed and familiar scents cut through thin air, people bumping into each other, toes trodden on. Lovers stroll hand in hand, casually browsing whilst housewives hustle and bustle, hollering over background noises for the best price.

Minho ends up walking through the entire market before getting to work that day with an apple in his stomach, silently like a phantom, blending into the sea of people effortlessly.

To him, work is just like another day in the market for stallholders, another pile of weapons needed to be honed and repaired for blacksmiths and another batch of bread to bake early in the morning for bakers.

Except his job is somewhat… questionable and considerably dangerous for a guy who looks nothing like a warrior. At least that’s what he’s been told. Rather pretty-looking eyes being hidden under his long fringe, a high and slim nose bridge, sharp philtrum. He’s not that tall either and doesn’t necessarily have as many muscles as he initially wanted. But the swordsman doesn’t listen to his muscles to fight, he listens to his mind and becomes one with his blade.

There’s no need for a shield or armor, for he thinks they’re doing nothing but getting in his way and slowing him down during combats. Minho draws his sword with no more qualms than a middle-aged lady gossiping about her irritating neighbors and slashes his enemies while thinking about what he’ll be making himself for dinner that day. There’s no joy for him in violence, but he takes extreme pride in a good clean kill. He has a reputation to maintain and that reputation keeps him safe in this world.

A man approaches Minho from behind, leaning himself flat against the wooden bench that the swordsman has situated himself on for the past hour. The guy never makes the first move, that’s what he’s been told.

“Twenty thousand units,” the masked client speaks up, his voice mellow and slightly muffled. “If you can bring back the head of a shadow wolf that’s been lurking around the Dunst forest these days, I’ll double the price. Silver-white fur, brown eyes. Make it quick too, and you can have sixty in total. He’s been eating up one too many of our sheeps already.”

His lips twitch subtly and he crosses his legs, keeping his tone low but clear, “Shadow wolves can’t handle the cold that well, why would one roam around a place with such tremendous decrease in temperature at night?” The sound of coins crashing against each other in the leather pouch suddenly irritates him.

“C’mon, Black Swordsman, how would I know these things? I’m just merely a guy who’s trying to get by in life,” the man chuckles lightheartedly but Minho isn’t finding anything funny. No one ever gets the upper hands in a deal with him. “Look, I heard you’re good at your job and you sure look like you know what you’re doing so why don’t you just take the mon—“

Minho stuffs his hands into his pocket and sighs, “Don’t think so lowly of me, I don’t accept deposits. I’ll only get my money once I’m done with the job. Meet me here tomorrow at noon, sharp. And if I don’t show up, consider locking your sheeps inside.” And with a grin through his flat lips under the mask, the cryptic client leaves Minho alone by the bench, fully satisfied with his attitude and reactions.

The brunet gazes at the space ahead for a good ten seconds, thinking rather deeply about this before waving his hand absentmindedly, calling out to the errand boy who’s been hiding behind the ugly tree. “You can come out now, Jeongin. Did you catch any of that?” he asks without turning around.

“Every single word,” Jeongin cancels the spell that’s been his cover during their entire conversation before stepping out, pursing his lips together. “A guy who’s trying to get by in life but still has twenty thousand to pay you beforehand? Sounds absurd to me.”

“Enough with the brainless chatters, you know what to do,” Minho pushes himself off the bench when his muscles start growing sore on the hardened surface. “If you do a good job, I’ll treat you out for dinner. Now run along, Chaeryeong is probably looking for you, don’t be late to class.”

Jeongin holds him back by the sheath of his sword, “You’re still going to accept the job? I don’t think it’s worth the risk. He’s obviously setting you up.”

“If anything, I might bring his head back instead of the wolf’s,” Minho replies monotonously, and Jeongin lets his hand fall to his side. The swordsman turns on his heels to see concern laced in the younger boy’s eyes, this prompts his voice to soften. “Don’t worry, a single wolf can’t hurt me,” he ruffles his hair before slipping into the crowd again, making his way towards the mountains to enter the Dunst forest.

He wouldn’t mind dying alone, actually. It’s not like he has any regrets.

two.

The city of Kalmburg has it that no one has ever surpassed Lee Minho when it comes to the art of swordsmanship.

“If you’re going to take on a guy who can parry a crossbow bolt with his sword as he’s contending against five other men, it’s time to re-evaluate the direction of your life—preferably while running away as fast as you can.”

The man walks up to the center of the town square every single day at the crack of dawn, his figure fully covered in a big black cloak, the hood thrown lazily over his head. All you can see is the strides he takes with his black combat boots. He almost belongs, but not quite. Kalmburg is known for its dashingly ornamental architecture — a white granite surface with serene spires can be seen from the castle at the top of the hill, soothing atmosphere and generically nice residents. Some say no beauty can be compared to its sunrise due to the dashing sight of a lake situated before the town square’s gate.

Whereas, Lee Minho gives people a stark contrast with his dark aura and the black sword hung firmly on his back. He easily takes in everyone’s attention with a single sweep, his midnight orbs setting on nothing before he leaves as expressionless as he’s entered. His purposes and motives always remain hidden; hence the allure. Though it’s not hard to see how he’s making a good living on a daily basis.

For one, he slays monsters; and for another, he deals with people. Outsiders might be surprised at how many units the Nobles are more than willing to pay him as long as he comes back alive, with the beast’s head limp in his hands. There were times when he’d come back covered in a sea monster’s gastric juice, other times he could barely walk back to the town because his spleens got severely damaged. But most of the time, he’d return as though he just got back from a stroll, outstretching his palm to collect the payment.

Dealing with people is far more troublesome than those deadly creatures, Minho constantly tells himself so. It’s true, after all. Because when careless juveniles aren’t able to snatch their parents’ spare change on the dining table, they decide it’s a brilliant idea to challenge him for a duel. If they win, he’ll have to follow their request without receiving a single penny. But if things go the other way around, they will most likely come home crying for their mother. Such a nuisance.

Today is no different.

Moving into the morning dew is a shadow wolf. His paws kiss the earth not gracefully, but rather with evident difficulties and there’s a ray of exhaustion in that pair of bronzed eyes. The wolf has seen better days. His silver-white fur is thin and it clings to his frame like an old cloak in a gale. Even from several yards away, Minho can count each rib as they’re sticking out, he sees dejection in his movements as if he’s gonna let himself tumble to the ground any moment.

Minho carefully inhales, pulling out a silver dart from the back of his belt. He raises his hand and aims precisely for the pine tree, just a strand of hair away from the wolf’s ear. When he exhales, the weapon comes flying past the creature before embedding itself to the wooden surface.

The wolf whips his head towards the swordsman, locking eyes as he lets out a mere cry of pain, crimson dripping down on the side of his head. As Minho pulls his hood off of his face, slightly dubious that the creature of darkness will turn into a wisp of black smoke to take flight deeper into the forest, the wolf shakes his head before lying down on the soil, unable to coordinate his limbs. Then with his great grey head on his bloodied paws, he closes his eyes. He’s giving up on his life.

“Something’s wrong. Shadow wolves’ blood isn’t supposed to be red,” Minho holds his breath in utter disbelief, taking a step backward. He’s got the wrong target. No, that client scammed him.

A branch snaps.

Minho reaches for his sword when the sound of thin air being ripped apart rings inside his eardrums, two blades coming in contact with each other and he has to squint slightly when tiny sparks of flame come to life between the weapons. Instead of looking at the raider, he quickly deflects their slash again. Hypothetically speaking, there are two possibilities: the first is that both swords are too weak to withstand the pressure of the blow, so they’ll simply break - in the exact same fashion. The second is in which case both blades are durable enough to field the contact, they will bounce right back. But his unwanted guest seems to detest him so much to the point they keep their sword grinding against his until their weapons slip against each other, creating a wave of grating shriek resonating through the woods, dust being thrown in the air.

He stumbles backward, the sole of his shoes tearing the leaves below into bits. His vision shakes a little from the sudden attack before trying to focus on the figure before him. The first thing that he sees is the white wolf on the button of your silver-accent cloak. That’s the royal guards’ emblem.

“You,” the female voice catches him by surprise. “Lay another finger on that wolf now, I dare you.” You know all too well who this man is, and like hell you’re going to let him do what he wants just because of some cheap units.

Minho’s fully aware that his beating heart is thundering inside his chest, but he’s not sure if it’s because of the adrenaline flowing in his veins or those round eyes glaring at him from under the sunlight. He sees the grip on the hilt of your rapier being tightened and that’s when he regains his composure, taking in a deep breath. If he gave up now because of a pretty face with a deadly blade, he’d damn his reputation as a swordsman.

“Oh that wolf is all yours,” he smiles at you fakely, wiping the beads of sweat on his cheekbones away. “But you’re going to have to do better than snooping around on people.”

Minho steadies his grip on his sword, trying to keep himself together in the deafening silence, “So, who’s making the first move now?” The tonal mockery in his voice irks you and he seems to notice that too by the slight smirk tugging at his lips when the muscles on your face twitch.

One. Breathe in.

You’re getting into your stance sideways, your blade eye level. This man doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.

Two. Breathe out.

Minho isn’t letting his guard down this time despite being slightly impressed with your skills. Usually, there aren’t many girls who take up sword fighting, at least not in his hometown so he thought you’d be sort of a novice. But your dexterity is beyond incredible, he can hardly see the tip of your sword.

Three. “I am.”

You charge first by swinging your rapier at him from above, Minho receiving the clash with the flat of his blade. He circles away from you, keeping his sword in motion while constantly changing his stances and attacks. Rapiers aren’t very suitable for slashing or slicing since the blade is so long and thin, it can only allow its owner more speed, more precise stabs and thrusts but greatly lowers their defense. So if he can just catch you off guard…

When the tip of your sword grazes just above his clothed ribs, Minho’s reflexes kick in and his blade knocks yours away almost immediately. With the bewildered look on your face as a signal, he dodges as you attempt another stab at his left ear. This causes you to trip on your heels, your balance quivering the moment his sword slashes at the button of your cloak rather than your neck. To prevent yourself from falling, you jump and do a backflip safely, breath’s fraying as the piece of clothing is completely ditched by a tree.

“You are strong, just like the rumors,” you breathe out a stoic comment, chest heaving up and down rapidly.

“You aren’t too bad yourself either,” Minho grins; he hasn’t felt this much eagerness to fight someone other than monsters before. In other words, he’s never faced someone who knows what they’re doing with a sword as skilled as you are.

You cock a brow at him, confused, “Why are you smiling?”

“I don’t know, actually,” he shakes his head and hearty waves of laughter bubble up inside his stomach. The brunet sheaths his sword with a loud ‘clunk’, walking towards you to place a warm hand on your shoulder. “But good fight, you really know how to hold a sword.”

“Wait… aren’t we going to finish this?”

Minho picks up your cloak from the ground, outstretching his palm, “You seem like a person who knows what it takes so I don’t think that’d be necessary anymore. But I’d be glad to take you on again?”

This man is baffling you, and not in a good way either. Nonetheless, you still slide your sword back into its sheath and accept his handshake. “So you’re gonna leave that wolf alone right?”

“Only if you tell me what happened to it,” Minho replies firmly, receiving a nod of approval from you. He actually seems like a solid person. Perhaps you can trust him.

“That’s my brother, Chan.”

three.

The forest hums with life all around you. You lift your head ever so slightly when the sunlight slips through the green leaves and branches, lighting up the dirt path ahead decorated with outgrown roots and wildflowers. You gaze up at the fluffs of clouds, searching for the birds that are singing sweetly. Minho trudges on before you a couple of steps, finding the natural fragrance of the current surroundings rather soothing. It’s making his eyes droopy.

“What happened to him again?”

He stretches his limbs tiredly and yawns like there’s no tomorrow, making you scrunch your nose in disapproval. He’s not even paying attention to you. It’s been at least an hour since you’ve mounted an unconscious Chan on your horse — Noir and accepted this cryptic stranger as your guide for now. You’ve never been to this forest more than once so it’s best if you follow him—an experienced individual in order to get your brother back safely.

You frown at him, giving the back of his neck a firm slap while your other hand is holding onto the rein. “Ow, what was that for?!” he yelps.

“You weren’t listening, were you?”

“Remotely,” he hums out a reply, “I didn’t sleep that well last night.” And that’s when you notice the dark spots under his eyes, the occasional tears whenever he squints his eyes under the sunlight. The job’s more draining and demanding than you thought.

To be fair, slaying monsters and getting your hands bloodied might not be the best thing to do to a degree of morality but you really can’t judge him when you’ve only known him for a few hours. Minho’s far younger than you’d expected too. You’ve had your strolls downtown from time to time with your fellow royal guards and it’s not hard for rumors to fly. People were gasping and bouncing on the balls of their feet talking about this mysterious swordsman who’s dressed completely in black, a single one-handed sword, no shield, and no armor. They really had you thinking he was an old man in his forties who has no regrets, just trying to get by in life no matter what it takes.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him charming the moment you saw that handsome face under the big cloak.

“He was recovering from a business trip so our mage decided to treat him with a special potion,” you nibble on your bottom lip, looking over at your worn out brother sideway in concern. You’ve wrapped his injuries up with some of the cloth that you’d packed before leaving this morning, he should be fine. “I guess something went wrong; hence, he’s magically turned into a wolf, panicked and bolted out of the castle. And you know how cruel people can be sometimes…”

“Oh, sorry about that,” Minho feels a big lump in his throat when you secretly toss a glare at his direction. “I should have known something was off the moment he started bleeding red.” He shakes his head, highly disappointed in himself for mistaking Chan as a shadow wolf. His professional etiquette forbids him ever repeat the same mistake.

You stop dead in your track, cocking your head at him in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Wait, no, something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong. It can’t be that simple. “You’re still going to accept the job? I don’t think it’s worth the risk. He’s obviously setting you up.” His steps come to a halt, only a few feet away from you and before you can even tap him out of it, Minho snaps his head back, grabbing you by the shoulders. “Tell me, when you first entered the forest, did you encounter any wolves? Even just one?”

“N-No, I don’t think so,” you stutter, slightly flustered at the sudden decrease in proximity. But you soon shake the heat on your cheekbones away when he lets go of you, pacing back and forth to think hard about something. “Uhh- what are you-”

“Shh shh..”

“Did you just shush me-” The wind whistles in your ears and you stumble backward when Minho draws his sword, the blade coming in contact with something hard and deflecting it successfully. Your jaw is locked at the sight of an arrow sticking to a tree not very far off. That could have been your head instead...He just saved your life.

“Someone’s coming, take cover.”

Minho carefully tugs your horse over to a nearby slope when you hop off the main pathway, waving him over to a big tree. You both get down on one knee as the sound of armors crashing against each other grows louder, dreadful footsteps becoming more detectable. Swiftly, Minho notices the color of your bright blue cloak can easily be detected right through the bush and clicks his tongue in annoyance. He unbuttons his black coat, silently draping it over your smaller figure. For a second there, you widen your eyes at him but soon ensconcing yourself obediently under the leather fabric.

Stepping into your vision are two familiar faces, Minho’s breath almost hitches in his throat when he realizes they’re clothed in the same blue and white uniform as yours. Both equally emitting the same hostility and mettle—as expected from the astute royal guards.

“Hyun-”

You stagger backward when Minho clasps a firm hand over your mouth, shaking his head while you’re giving him a ‘what are you doing?’ look. The moment you manage to peel yourself away from his grip, your fellow colleagues are nowhere to be seen. They must be looking for you since you left the castle this morning without a proper announcement. “What was that about?! They’re my friends, now if you’d excuse me-”

“They aren’t the most trust-worthy people right now,” he lets out a sigh. “Think about it. They’re parts of the few people who could possibly see Chan the day before he turned into a wolf. And I’m sure the royal mage wouldn’t have such a reason to spike the commander of the guards. I don’t see how it’d benefit her if Chan was to take a break from his position. On the other hand…”

Is he accusing one of your friends of harming your brother? And for what too? A higher rank in the team? Preposterous! “Why would I trust you then, Black Swordsman?”

Minho cringes inwardly at the nickname because good gracious, it’s so unoriginal. He’s heard about plenty of Black Swordsmen before during his wandering all over the Continent. They’re basically cryptic-looking swordsmen dressed in black...people really need to come up with more colorful monikers.

“Because I just saved your life from those people whom you called ‘friends’,” he blinks at you bluntly and the hand resting on the hilt of your sword tenses up.

You take in a deep breath, slowly considering his deductions. It’s not like he doesn’t have a point but you don’t understand as to why Hyunjin or Changbin would want to overtake your brother, they’ve only become a part of the royal guards four years ago. You might not grow up together but after going on plenty of adventures and living in the palace, you’re practically family.

Still, humans are made of greed after all.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you exhale. “You’re going to help me figure this out for throwing a dart at Chan’s ear. But if you even think about hurting him or make a single move that prompts me to think you’re doing something behind our back, I’m going to tear out your spine with my bare hands.”

Minho chuckles at your threatening tone, slightly scared for his life, “There’s no need to worry, miss…” You raise a brow at him when he trails off rather flusteredly. “Ma’am? No- uh, vice commander? What about lady…”

“The name’s Y/N,” you can’t help but break into a fit of giggles, amused at his sudden discomposure. Seems like this man has been chit-chatting with monsters more than having civil conversations with other human beings for his whole life. “And would you get your hands off me now? We don’t have to hide anymore.”

His chest swells a bit at that if he’s being honest.

four.

“Aren’t we supposed to be at the castle?” Minho looks at the log house before his eyes questioningly. Not that he’s complaining, he doesn’t think it’s the best idea for him to show up in front of royalties either.

You pull off your hood and say, “No, the royal mage doesn’t live there.” After a few knocks with your knuckles on the wooden door, hurried footsteps are audible from inside the house—whoever’s in there must be dying to see you, Minho thinks.

“Yeji, how are y—“ The door flies open and a figure thrashes against you faster than a lightning bolt, their arms wrapped around your torso, rubbing your back tenderly. You’re slightly taken aback but smile nonetheless knowing that your friend was worried sick like she’s always been. “Hello to you too, stupid.”

This prompts Minho to avert his gaze away awkwardly, the grip on Noir’s reign tightening evidently and your horse lets out a small neigh, nudging her nose against his side like she’s attempting to appease him. He murmurs a small ‘thank you’, hand reaching upward to brush through her shiny black coat. Shaking his head, he snickers at himself for talking to a horse.

Yeji mumbles against your neck in relief, like someone’s just lifted a weight off her shoulders, “Good gracious, Y/N! Are you okay? You just left without saying anything. Changbin and Hyunjin said they couldn’t find you in the woods and Chan’s gone missing for a few days now and I got so worried I-”

“Slow down, Yeji,” you give her a firm squeeze in reassurance, chuckling. “It’s barely been a day. I did manage to find Chan, surprisingly, thanks to Minho, well, partly.”

“Who’s Minho?” she pulls away to get a good look at the man standing next to your horse, eyes widening in surprise. Dressed in black, one-handed sword, no shield, and armor. “Is that the Black Swordsman? Like the Lee Minho? He’s the real thing?”

You grit through a stiff smile, “As real as it can get.”

“Huh, and I thought he’d be some old, balding man in his forties,” Yeji comments while eyeing the swordsman up and down, making him somewhat uncomfortable. “He knows how to use a sword, is young and quite the looker too. Ohh I see what’s going on here..”

You warn her with a clap on her forearm, “You’re embarrassing me in front of that jerk.”

However, she ignores you and pushes the door open, motioning for Minho to carry Chan inside. “Move quickly now, Black Swordsman, I suppose Chan’s condition must be critical, his heartbeat and the blood flow in his veins is increasing at an alarming speed.”

Minho looks around in awe when he steps into the log house—there’s not much for him to say about the house. Furniture is self-explanatory enough: a single bed, a comfortable chair made with what seems to be one of the finest materials, a wooden shelf above the fireplace with an array of potions with different shades and colors, windows completely covered with curtains. It’s not much, but it does feel homey. He would be able to find a place like this with ease if he hadn’t wasted all of his money into information dealing and weapons trading.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? The house, I mean.”

Yeji’s question snaps him out of it. And he looks over at the table where Chan’s lying, immobile and his bronzed eyes droopy and his breaths mingling. There’s a strange, bright light pulsing from the mage’s fingertips when she hovers her palm over Chan’s bloodied ear. Minho watches as the light flickers from a shade of white to blue, enveloping the open wound and heals it completely. He meets Yeji’s eyes before she pulls her hand back, her eyes glowing gold before turning back into a deep brown. The art of magic is truly fascinating.

Minho manages to blurt, slightly flustered, “What?”

“You said the house’s nice, I simply agreed with that statement for it is true,” she briskly reaches for a flask, inside holds a soft green-colored liquid with golden specks floating around.

“I didn’t say anything,” he frowns at her when she brings the rim of the flask to Chan’s mouth, pouring the odd-looking liquid down his throat.

You speak up from behind her, arms crossed in front of your chest, “Yeji, stop reading people’s mind that’s creepy.”

“Okay I’ve got everything I need for the potion that’ll manage to turn Chan back into his human form,” Yeji tells you while rummaging through her wooden cabinets filled with bottles after bottles, grabbing some along the way as she comes back to the table. “But I’m missing some crystals. And I’m not talking about those fake ones that you see at the stores, the ones I need are way towards the north, in Drachens Hohle, on the Restless Cliffs.”

Minho hums, brows knitted together, thinking rather thoroughly about this. “Drachens Hohle is pretty far off, it might take us an entire day to get there, and then another day climbing those cliffs...we might need to pass by a store of a friend of mine to pack some stuff since I suppose you won’t be returning to the castle anytime soon. We’ll get moving as soon as possible,” he mumbles and nods to himself, satisfied with the plan.

“Let me just make one thing clear here, Black Swordsman…”

He screws his eyes shut when air suddenly gets ripped apart, only opening them slowly after and almost flinches at the tip of a dagger pointed directly at his nose; one wrong move and his eye will be gone. Minho doesn’t know what should startle him more—the blade gleaming with a bright shade of yellow or the dark look in Yeji’s eyes when he meets them. He’s seen Chaeryeong do it many times before—incorporating magic with weapons, to better the damage output while maintaining the defensive factors.

“If you lay just one single finger on my friend, I'm going to turn you into a mere, pathetic, little sparrow and lock you in a cage along with other pieces in my collection.”

Minho panics, feeling nauseous at the thought, “What collection?”

The mage withdraws her knife and laughs it off, “I was messing around with you, there’s no collection. Look after her for me, she can be quite clumsy sometimes.”

“The clumsy one here is you,” you mumble bitterly in the corner, extremely embarrassed for the sake of your friend. You might as well dig a hole and bury yourself in it.

Unexpectedly, the wooden door is once again pushed open, two men barging into the log house abruptly. You and Yeji remain still in your current positions while Minho touches the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it. “Don’t bother, they’re friends,” you wave at him absentmindedly before pushing yourself off the chair, walking over to the front door.

“Y/N, where have you been?!”

“Hello to you too, Bin.”

Changbin pushes past Hyunjin and jabs his index finger at you, eyes filled with both rage and concern. “What were you thinking? If you’re going to find Chan, we’re going with you. We’re a team and he’s our brother too! Don’t you remember? That was an irresponsible and childish action to do, you’d better have a good explanation for this. If you’re going to do something, at least act your role in the team more properly.”

Hyunjin pulls him back by the arm, shaking his head, “Changbin, stop. There’s no point in arguing. What’s most important is she’s gotten back safely.”

You eye both of your teammates back and forth, skepticism and uncertainty rising from the pit of your stomach. If what Minho said was true, then the culprit must be one of them. Or was he lying to you, trying to mess with your mind in order to achieve a personal goal of some sort? After all, you’ve only met him today yet you’ve known Changbin and Hyunjin for years now, why would you even hesitate to choose your friends over a total stranger?

“I wasn’t alone.” Changbin pauses at your words. “He was with me, this is-”

“Lee Minho.” You gape at your friend in disbelief.

Minho’s hand pulls away from his sword, a strange glint flashes in his eyes for a moment there. “It’s good to see you’re doing well, Changbin,” he says with difficulties, clearly not knowing how to act.

“Why were you with her?” Hostility washes over the atmosphere when Changbin croaks out, fists clenching in anger. “Y/N, what were you doing with a scumbag like him? Haven’t you heard enough rumors about this guy? People like him only care about themselves, they’ll just end up hurting you in the end. There’s no good in letting him stick around.”

When you squint your eyes at him, Changbin takes long strides towards you, grabbing your wrist and attempting to pull you away. “Yeji, please take care of Chan for the time meaning and we’ll be heading back to the castle. Y/N can’t just leave when we need her the most.“

Minho tugs you back towards him and voices firmly, “I’m sorry, but your vice commander belongs to me now. I’ll be responsible completely for her security and escort her with all my respects. You’ll simply have to make do without her for some days.”

Changbin lunges for Minho’s collar, anguish seething inside his chest. “Insolent bastard! On what basis do you think you have the right to protect her? You might not be a threat, but you’d better stop pretending to be a hero.”

“A hero? Like you?” He shouldn’t have said that.

Hyunjin looks rather concerned, rubbing his friend’s shoulders, “Changbin, we should go.”

“Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin,” you step in between them in disquiet, shoving Changbin away. “As vice commander of the royal guards, I will be coming with Lee Minho in the next few days on an important trip and I stand by my own decision. If my absence causes the team any trouble, I’ll be more than happy to receive the punishment from our superiors. You two are to return to the castle until further notice, continuing on with your service for the king and queen.”

“As we should,” Hyunjin smiles at you sweetly before walking over to Chan, giving the wolf a small pat on the head. In return, Chan lets out a displeased growl but it’s too small to notice. Minho watches the guard from afar, suspecting the strange glint in his eyes. He decides to say nothing about it.

“I’ve already warned you about him, don’t come crying for me when things go wrong.” With that, both of the royal guards excuse themselves out of the log house—Changbin shutting the door angrily after Hyunjin bidding you goodbye with a hug. This makes your heart heavy for not being able to trust them. You still don’t understand as to why, but you have a sudden faith in Minho, your intuitions are telling you that you should trust him.

Softly, you ask, “You know Changbin?”

“He’s an old friend, we haven’t talked in a while,” Minho shifts uncomfortably in his chair, finding the topic rather awkward to talk about. “We didn’t get along that well back then either. Glad to see nothing has changed.”

You shouldn’t have asked him in the first place.

five.

A wide variety of shops lined the streets of downtown Kalmburg: antique and art stalls, jewelry, and accessory shops, luxury boutiques, souvenir kiosks and stores selling leather goods, all showcasing an array of the finest wares in the area. Tourists flock to them like fireflies to a lamp, enthusiasm accentuating their features. The silvery melody of the drawl of sightseers and the strong, distinct accents of the locals drift through your ears as they amble by.

You follow Minho to the very end of the streets with your cloak draped over Chan’s limp body. No one needs to know why there’s an unconscious wolf on the back of your horse. Alas, you both arrive in front of an old wooden door, the mahogany color fading as a result of time. He told you that he needed to pass by a friend’s place but doesn’t this place look a bit fishy-

“Five hundred units for ten bags of Philenor powder, and you’re good to go!”

A blond-haired boy peeks out from a client behind the counter. “Well if it isn’t my least favorite customer,” he voices cheerfully.

“That’s because I’m smart enough to not buy any of your shit, Jisung,” Minho walks in with a grin, pitifully eyeing the dreadful-looking man who’s taking heavy strides out of the shop. He’ll learn someday. “Still running your greedy business as usual I see.”

The dealer named Jisung returns the sarcastic remark with a gummy smile, bumping his fist against Minho’s in a brotherly way. “Don’t speak so ill of me, will you? This greedy business is housing you,” he retorts, “I suppose you’re going to hog my place tonight as you always do, Black Swordsman?” So turns out he spends his night slumbers in this old crusty shop, no wonder people think he sleeps in the woods since they’ve never run into him outside of the town square before.

“Actually, I won’t be in town for tonight,” Minho’s answer catches Jisung off guard. “I’m heading north, to the Restless Cliffs.”

“Another life-risking business trip huh. You’re going to need warm clothes, some supplement, and probably some medicine too,” Jisung hums to himself. “Hey, Felix! Get your butt over here and sharpen a sword!”

You detach your rapier from your belt and take a few steps forward before placing it onto the counter. “Uhh, can you perhaps do the same thing for my sword? I’m coming with him,” you try to appear as friendly, not wanting to startle him.

But to your dismay, “Y-You’re one of the th-the royal guards!”

The younger boy looks over at you, utterly bewildered when he sees the emblem on your uniform. His eyes look like they’re about to pop out of their socket any second now. As if to fuel the fire, Minho jerks his head towards the direction of Noir, speaking casually, “Also, ask Chaeryeong to take care of the wolf and the horse for me. Tell her to be gentle too, the wolf is hurt and confused. Don’t let him drink potions that aren’t tested beforehand.”

“You brought injured animals to my shop?!”

“One more thing, I need to see Jeong-”

Jisung has to manually shut him up by swinging an arm over his neck, forcing his friend to tumble over the wooden counter, their cheeks pressed against each other. He’s practically spitting into Minho’s face at this point. “What in the world is an outcast, stubborn-headed of a loner like you doing out here with a royal guard?! Didn’t you say that having other people coming along would only get in the way? I thought you worked alone! What’s the deal man?”

“Ahaha, it’s a long story. You see-”

“Excuse my discourtesy for I haven’t introduced myself properly yet,” Jisung stops and averts his gaze over to you, soon letting go of Minho when you flash him a crooked smile. “My name is Y/N, second in command of the royal guards and I’ll be stuck with this dimwit for a while, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Jisung reciprocates your bow, the look in his eyes softening a bit, “And I’m Han Jisung, freelance dealer, single, I’m looking for a—“ Minho finds it irksome how his friend is already out and about, starting a proper conversation without almost getting killed by you so his fist moves on its own, jabbing against the blond’s stomach, forcing air out of his mouth with a low grunt.

“Don’t mind him,” he turns sideways to reassure you, holding back the twitching muscles on his face. “He’s a decent person, despite how creepy he can be sometimes.” Jisung then elbows him harshly as a payback, making a scene when they start wrestling with each other like a bunch of toddlers. This makes you snort involuntarily, the Black Swordsman isn’t as fully-fledged as what’s been told around the public.

“Kids, that’s enough,” you tell them after making a grab for one of your pouches on Noir’s back. “Minho, why don’t you go meet up with the blacksmith? And Jisung, do you perhaps have a kitchen that I can borrow?”

While Minho’s mumbling something under his breath, hugging both of his and your sword to his chest to make his way behind the counter, Jisung nods at you, lifting a curtain next to a shelf full of weapons, gems, crystals, and potions that leads you down a dark, narrow hallway. “It’s not much,” he says and lights a candle so none of you would trip over each other. “But I hope it helps.”

“Don’t even, doing all of this for a stranger like me is incredibly generous of you,” you say humbly, not wanting to take anything for granted. “I’ll definitely return the favor when I come back.”

Jisung stops walking all of a sudden, causing you to almost bump into his back. “Is that so? Then, uhh…” he scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “How do I say this..? I know Minho can be irrational sometimes, loves pretending like he doesn’t care, and always runs into fire. So please..” His throat starts growing dry as he lowers his head a bit, attempting to bow at you.

“Take care of him for me, will you?”

You smile at the blond-haired boy, warmth flaring through your rib cage like butterflies, “I assure you he’s in good hands.”

six.

That night, you and Minho spend the whole night, the next morning, and the afternoon walking barefooted from Kalmburg to a small village at the base of the Restless Cliffs called Drachens Hohle. And it’s anything but Kalmburg. Rustic cabins dot the grassy hills as trees stand up like spikes, zigzagging the border of brick roads and unpolished homes. Rivers stream through deep valleys. The town is as complex as the heart, the streets are the veins, paved with red stones and the people are the heart. They look like they don’t own much, but are willing to share everything and anything. It’s the smiles on their faces, the way they greet each other, the sound of weapons and breastplates being pounded into shape that shows you just how alive this small community can be.

The motel Minho chooses looks like one of those places where men with beer guts would be snooping around with their neighbor’s wife, paying by the hour; a place where random hookers and drug-dealers would thrive. There are external wooden stairs that lead to a second floor, the second row of doors, that looks like the building inspector was either bribed to pass it or drunk on the job. You insist on finding a better place than this rat-hole but Minho said you don’t have to waste a couple of extra pennies just so the beds can be softer.

After dinner, you both receive your own keys before going upstairs to your respective rooms. A dingy place like this isn’t able to provide much when it comes to furniture anyway so there’s only a plain bed with pillows and a blanket, a nightstand with a pitch of water, and a small candle beside it. You sigh while casting your eyes around the room one last time. It’s just for one night.

“Y/N,” Minho gives your door a few knocks. “Are you asleep yet? I have something to tell you.”

You’re still halfway done with unpacking your stuff so you try to yell back without turning on your heels, “Not yet, just come in. I didn’t lock the door.”

He hums as a response before pushing against the wooden surface, closing it with a small ‘click’ after. “I just ran into the mayor downstairs,” Minho starts speaking and that’s when you finish putting your sword away, turning to look at him. And your cheeks inevitably grow hot since the first thing you have to lay your poor eyes on is his collarbones. This bastard really has the audacity to keep his buttons anywhere but a degree of appropriation.

“Hey, focus,” he snaps his fingers as an attempt to knock you out of your trance, not noticing how he’s obviously the distraction. “It took an hour for him after rambling about his childhood and his love for the village to finally spill something about the kind of crystal that we need. At least pretend like you’re paying attention, will you?”

“I was paying attention,” you mumble loud enough for yourself to hear it. What a white lie.

Minho quirks a brow and leans himself against the wall, looking amused, “Hmm, sure you did. Now, where were we? Ah! The mayor said those things aren't very hard to find, the only problem is that the field where they grow is right in front of a dragon’s den. No one has ever made it back in one piece. Chances are there might be other random monsters on the way…”

Suddenly he stops talking, confusing you. “What’s wrong-“

The stiff look on his face seals your lips almost immediately. Faster than a lightning bolt, Minho turns the doorknob and rushes outside. “Who’s there?!” he snaps at the hooded figure running towards the end of the dark hallway, reaching for the sword on his back only to realize it’s not there. “Shit, this isn’t good.”

“Someone was eavesdropping. We’ve got ourselves a spy.” You close the door again after Minho walks inside, facepalming himself onto your bed dreadfully.

He supports himself upward on his forearms and runs a hand through his hair, “Look, I’m not saying this because I’m doubting your abilities, I just want to guarantee your safety as much as I can. Their motives and patterns are getting pretty much unpredictable.” When he looks straight into your eyes with his warm, brown ones, your heart dips ever so gently. “Would you mind if I were to spend the night in your room?”

Your lips grow agape, your jaw almost drops to the floor. No one has ever asked to spend the night in the same room as you, not even Ryujin—your closest friend out of all the royal guards. Heck, you’ve barely known this man for a good three days yet why is it that your heart didn’t even hesitate? Are you scared? Most definitely not. Then what is it? What’s this weird, fuzzy feeling that’s been stirring inside your stomach for who knows how long?

“.....fine, but don’t try anything.”

Your heart is being weak again.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

You place your hands on either side of your hip when Minho comes back from his room with his pillows and blanket scattered all over the floor, organizing them neatly with his sword leaning against your nightstand. He flickers his eyes upward to look at your judgmental ones, slightly shaking from the cold and nervousness. “I’m getting comfortable?” he tells you, blinking innocently.

Shaking your head at Minho, you snatch the pillow from his hands and situate it on your bed, right beside your own. “Hurry up now before I change my mind,” you decide after some time of consideration. The floor doesn’t look necessarily clean, and it’s not like Jisung would pack any extra clothes for him to change into. You’re just being nice like any normal, civil human being would. You’re sharing a bed with a stranger, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Oh, I’m good,” Minho scratches his head with a sheepish smile. “The floor is fine for me.” Although the cheap material of the mattress does look more convincing than the hard, cement surface.

You squint your eyes at him skeptically, “Are you sure?” He then puts his hands up in defeat as though you’re pointing a knife at his throat and motions for you to scoot over with a wave of his hand. You both shuffle around after he slips into the blanket with you, shifting until you’re facing the wall while Minho’s staring awkwardly at the front door. Well, this is kinda nice, he thinks to himself when your back brushes over his every now and then.

“Uhh, sleep tight, I guess?” Minho says before leaning over the nightstand to blow out the candle.

“Goodnight to you too,” you spew out your last words of the day, deciding to keep your lips close before you embarrass yourself any further. Okay...maybe one last thing before you completely pass out. “Uhm, Minho?”

He replies softly, “Yeah?” Seems like he can’t fall asleep either.

Minho tosses himself over the moment you move your body and this causes your faces to be inches apart, his warm breath fanning your cheeks. Although you can’t see him clearly due to the limited source of light, those round eyes are definitely piercing right through you, leaving your heart pounding faster than usual.

“Can you tell me…” you nibble on your bottom lip hesitantly. “What happened between you and Changbin? You guys weren’t being very civil for old friends.”

When he shifts slightly again to face the ceiling, his arm brushes against yours but he does nothing about it. He likes the lingering warmth from the tips of your fingers.

You watch in awe as Minho stares up at nothing, broken bits of sadness floating softly inside his irises like an unwanted scar from his past; it’s tragically beautiful. “It was years ago when this whole monster hunting thing started,” he starts calmly, finding it hard to not look at you. “I wasn’t alone, Changbin was there with me too.”

Then, he continues, not knowing that you’re widening your eyes at him, “We were in an assault team, traveling all over the Continent and making a living out of slaying those creatures. We didn’t have much back then, but we had each other. Unfortunately, everyone has their own secrets despite our promise of not hiding anything from each other. Changbin was planning on leaving the group to go on a different path, and I...I would secretly sneak out alone every night, throwing myself into danger, thinking that I wasn’t good enough…Truth is, I was just being selfish.” His voice trails off, trembling as if each word pains him, like a thousand arrow wounds straight into his heart.

Bitter. Unforgiving. Pain.

“I knew that I was lying to them, that I should just leave without saying anything,” Minho swallows hard like someone’s stepping on him, forcing air out of his lungs mercilessly.

“But I never belonged anywhere, they were all that I had—my only family. I longed for that warmth, that feeling of being at ease so I just, I couldn’t leave. One day, we were hired to clear out a dungeon through an anonymous letter. It raised some skepticisms in my head since I’ve gone there before, there was nothing, no monsters, no nothing. Even so, I was held back by my own cowardice, I was afraid they might question me. I didn’t stop them when they accepted the job, it was good money.”

Your voice fails you when you open your mouth to say something, so you wordlessly slips your hand into his, hoping that you’ll be able to convey some of your heat to his cold fingers. As if feeling encouraged by your action, he doesn’t push you away and regains his composure.

“Turns out, my intuitions were right, we got scammed,” Minho says. “A group full of criminals attacked, wanting to keep all of our money for their own. We cooperated and gave them everything, yet that wasn’t enough. They needed to seal our lips for good….Only Changbin and I made it out alive, three mobsters from the gang died under my blade that day. I confessed to Changbin later on, he didn’t forgive me. I couldn’t forgive myself either, the only family I’d ever have was gone, my arrogance and pride killed them.”

Silently, you pull him towards you, caressing the back of his head like he’s gonna fall apart the moment you let him go. Minho’s breath hitches in his throat as he sees you wear a smile on your face, your starry eyes twinkling when moonlight slips through the crack of the wood-lined window, pieces of glass chipping off on the edges. You’re breathtaking, unearthly.

“I’m not going to die, I know that you’ll protect me just fine.” There’s a wide-eyed expression on his face, his lips falling open but his words die in his throat. A tear unknowingly rolls down on his cheek, consequently blurring his vision with waves of sadness that only the broken would encounter. You let him nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, his fists grabbing at your shirt until his knuckles turn white.

Minho cries into your chest unceasingly, “I don’t have any real strength. Without my sword, without the anonymity that has been casting terror and curiosity on people, I’m just Lee Minho, the coward who only ever knows how to run away and hide behind the shadow of the Black Swordsman. Changbin was right, I don’t have any right to even think about protecting you.”

“My father used to tell me,” you stroke his hair gently as choked sobs punch through him, pulling him back from the opening arms of his grief. “Strength is simply an illusion, there are far more important things.”

He stops for a moment, nostalgia hurling him back to the memories of two decades ago when he was still just a boy, training hard with his wooden sword while someone watched him from afar, a pleased look lingering on their lips. Tears pool in his eyes again when that person’s face flashes inside his mind but the hollow space inside his heart isn’t the same, there’s a ray of joy that’s managed to make its way through a crack of his walls.

“And I don’t care if you’re the Black Swordsman or not, I only know the cryptic-looking guy who crossed swords with me and wasn’t willing to back down that day. I knew, I just knew that even without a sword, you could have beaten me. Because fighting isn’t an obligation, it’s a choice. A choice whether you’re going to fight until the very end or not.”

His tears can’t extinguish what has happened, yet only carry him forward until a time comes when that searing pain is distant enough to forget rather than remembering. And maybe one day, it might erase itself from his conscience for good. So perhaps it’s not much of an oddity to thank the salty liquid streaming down on his cheekbones. They’re a living proof for his morality, a barrier to save him from becoming a monster—indifferent to suffering and sorrow.

Minho sees the fatherly smile on his mentor’s face, just like the old days. And then he sees you through his blurred vision, momentarily breathless at how close you are.

“After all, I have a promise to keep,” you tell him but it comes out more like a reminder for yourself. “I won’t let you die even when I’m no longer capable of picking up my sword and I mean it. As vice commander of the royal guards, you have my words, Lee Minho.”

An ignited desire wells up at the bottom of his heart, and it baffles him. Lee Minho, a coward who’s willing to turn his back on everyone just so he alone can exist. A bastard who betrayed his only friends, who didn’t even try to plead for forgiveness, who coldly walked away from those painful memories. Such a self-absorbed being like him doesn’t deserve a simple ally, let alone something much more intimate than that.

Then he starts to remember why he’s here, with you. Your smile. Your voice. Memories are flooding back into his head about this girl who made her way into his life abruptly yet so easily. And before he knows it, she’s all that’s on his mind.

So instead of giving in to his nightmares like he would every other night, Minho stops reminiscing his bloodied past, surrendering under the sense of familiarity radiating off your touch.

seven.

You both stand in awe as the great mountains loom before your eyes, cold grey crevices holding the blood of the fallen. While the lower passes wear a cloak of greenery, the peaks are crowned with a headdress of ice. As though the earth has a pulse, it rises through the mountains, creating their bold silhouette. From carved rocky outcrops, waterfalls drifting like skeins of white lawn, and in the fields, you can see the amber glint of the rivers and the occasional mirror-like flash of the lake.

The mountains soar upward like they wish to plant a soft kiss on heaven, wanting to have a taste of the horizon all around. The path ahead winds as effortlessly as a blanket laid on a bed, yet each step feels heavier than the previous one, draining your energy. It only gets steeper and narrower as you make your way closer to the top, but giving up is not an option. You’re willing to go to the other side of the world barefooted, searching for every corner, every edge of this planet if it means bringing your brother back.

A gust of wind howls in the distance, piling up snow in drifts, blinding your eyesight with ice-white dust. You try walking, bending over against the cold, protecting your eyes with your clothed forearms. Everything looms into your vision before vanishing completely, swallowed in white. “Minho?” you call out to him after a few minutes of not looking forward, waving one of your hands around until it can feel something.

Another hand reaches for yours, and you snap out of your daze when the coldness on the tips of his fingers is clasped against your palm. “You’re as slow as a baby turtle,” he comments lamely while staring ahead, not letting you see the coral shade scattered across his cheeks. “Let’s just hurry up and get back, I’m hungry.”

Breath pale against the numbing air, you blink thoughtfully while gazing down at the sight of his fingers being intertwined with yours as the frost patiently kisses your face. He’s still wearing the same old pair of fingerless gloves, no wonder his hands are freezing. But you suppose it’s because he doesn’t want the grip on his sword to slip.

“Oh, I actually have something for us to eat,” you retract your hand to fish it inside your bag, already missing his warmth. “I guess we should have lunch, either way, we’ve been walking before the sun even rose.”

Minho makes a noise of confusion before bringing his steps to a halt, turning his head to see you pull out something being wrapped neatly in paper, giving it a slight jerk towards his direction when he continues to stare at you blankly. Wordlessly, he takes it and sighs, eyes widening when the smell of grilled meat invaded his nostrils. Inside the wrapper is a sandwich made from thinly sliced bread, generously stuffed with meat and vegetables. The peppery aroma inevitably makes his stomach rumble and without another word, Minho chomps on his lunch portion like a hungry child; the sandwich is long gone before he realizes it.

“It’s...good,” he licks his lips to clean up the remaining sauce in the corners of his mouth. It doesn’t look any different from the ones he’s seen inside restaurants but the taste is what reminds him of something he ate as a kid, he almost teared up while inhaling it. “Where did you buy this? I’ll make sure to pass by the place when we get back.”

“I didn’t buy it,” you stride ahead of him to hide the giddiness in your stomach. “I made it yesterday at Jisung’s place. That’s why the bread got a little soggy if you couldn’t tell already.”

Minho fixes his collar and his hearty laughs echoes through your eardrums, stirring up feelings inside your stomach unabating. “You would make a fortune out of these,” he tells you while trying to catch up, following your steps in a hassle. “But now that I‘m thinking about it again, you shouldn’t do that, I’d hate to see people getting to enjoy the same food as me with some cheap units.”

You blush (out of anger) at his statement and attempt to cover it up by stepping onto his toes. This causes him to yelp while stumbling backward, almost falling onto his bottom. “Why did you feel the need to do that?!”

“I can just make you more if you like it that much, you jerk,” you murmur mostly to yourself but he hears it nonetheless.

A smile makes its way to his lips, and a fuzzy feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. He’s not sure what it is, but he’s not complaining, really. It’d be nice if he could have the same delicious meals when he’d retired, dozing off while watching the sunset with his significant other and his own kids in his arms. It’d be nice if he could have a place to come back to when he needs a break, a shoulder to lean on and someone to tuck him into bed. It’d be nice if… He looks at you again after those shameless thoughts and immediately, embarrassment dusts his cheeks pink. His face feels hot despite the puffs of cold air escaping his lips.

“Hey,” Minho pulls you to a stop by the hand, suddenly giving it a squeeze. “I just wanted to say thank you…” A glint of anticipation gleams in your gaze when you both lock eyes, prompting him to look away. “Thank you, for...the meal, it was nice. I might as well bother you a little longer to eat more good food.” Lee Minho you coward.

“Do you only think about your stomach?“ you almost gawk at him, raising your hand to give him a slap in the face but Minho grabs your hand before you can do so. The next thing you know, his other hand is on the top of your head, ruffling your hair in a playful manner.

He tells you and trudges on, grinning to himself, “Let’s get moving, we’re wasting time.”

“....Minho?”

“Hmm?” he turns around with a lovesick smile on his face but that’s not what you’re paying attention to.

“You might want to look out for that…”

“For what-“

Minho swallows heavily when he sees an enormous figure overhanging his shadow on the white snow. Slowly, his gaze follows the sound of faint yet sturdy footsteps and he holds his breath, eyes twice as white as before.

“Just to be clear…” he asks breathlessly. “Dragons are nocturnal, right?”

“Correct,” you subconsciously take a step back. “And we might have woken it up.”

Minho takes notice in the thick stripe of black streaking down on one of its claws, and his face morphs into a frown when his surroundings reek off the smell of fresh blood. “No, someone else did.”

The dragon’s scales gleam dashingly in the sunlight, they are its pride and delight, violet streaks blending into a deep blue at the end. Its teeth so cold and sharp like icicles, they can easily rip any armors into mere ribbons of skin and bones. In its chest holds a hearth of ever flickering flame although the remorseless heart remains rime. Eyes with a shade of crimson as deep as the liquid that’s coursing through your veins, nourishing you; those eyes are seemingly endless pools of wisdom and intelligence.

But once those red pupils dilate and focus on the two mundane mortals before themselves, a glint of gold is suddenly evident, almost alarmed. The dragon takes off into the air with its wings stretched leathery like a bat, sending a small snowstorm flying towards the both of you. Minho squints his eyes hard while you’re shielding your vision with your forearms, coats fluttering as wind whistles into your ears.

Minho calmly takes a step forward, flashing you a smile sideways. What is he doing?

Then, he spares you one last glance before drawing his sword. As though triggered by the sound of metal scraping against the leather sheath, the dragon flaps its majestic wings and inhales, heaps of glowing embers come swirling in midair, twirling towards Minho with a fiery dance. He’s just simply there, feet planted firmly on the ground as though challenging the creature’s deadly breath.

“Minho, what are you doing?!” you yell at him, trying to keep your balance as the ground begins to tremble. “Get out of there!!”

Pretending not to listen to your warnings, Minho gets into his stance, blade angling low with his knees. What happens next downright baffles you. The blade of his sword glimmers with a shade of purple, his feet taking off towards the plume of fire that soon engulfs his figure completely in your vision.

You squeeze your eyes shut not just because of the heat but also because you can’t bring yourself to see it. Once the air around you cools off, your eyes flutter open again to see Minho angling his head over his shoulder, throwing you a wink in the process. Did he just counter a dragon’s breath with his sword?

“Chaeryeong taught me that. Neat trick, isn’t it?” he says with a grin while you’re blinking at him in utter shock; he looks almost proud of successfully deflecting that breath attack. “I use magic more often than you’d think. Nothing major, only the basic things. Enough to keep me alive.”

“I still think we need to run first.”

Minho looks at you dejectedly, “Don’t you have a better plan?”

With a howl as loud as any sky-born thunder, the dragon flaps its wings more vigorously this time, flinging the layer of snow under your feet into a blizzard—a swirling storm of screaming silver, a primal force than conquers until its core explodes. Everything around you is almost white-out as you bat your hands around helplessly in the middle of this snowstorm. After a while, you can no longer feel your legs, it’s like the storm just sweeps you off your feet. You’re not sure if it’s because of the cold or-

What the…?

You widen your eyes in a panic; you’re falling. Your perception of time distorts, your surroundings slow down until there’s nothing, only you, the sky above, and a hole that’s only a few hundred feet away from where you were standing previously. Your hand reaches out to the canvas above, grasping the endless crevasse of blue.

Everything’s a blur, a blur that swirls out of existence. Suspended in the air for a few seconds, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, letting your tense muscles relax. You won’t die from the fall since there’s a likelihood that snow’s already covered the pit. But you can’t just let yourself fall freely, that would cause minor, unnecessary injuries. So you reach for your sword, planning to jab it against the rocky surface as an attempt to go against gravity.

Once the metal comes in contact with the side of the pit, tiny flares of fire flutter in the air as if the sword is being sharpened by a blacksmith, an ear-piercing sound hisses against your eardrums. The stab is strong enough to slow gravity down from pulling you downward any faster but it’s not enough to make you stop completely.

Chan, you think while screwing your eyes shut, every cell inside your body is shaking, every muscle is aching. You can’t give up now, not when you’re still in one piece, and Chan’s hanging on the edge of not getting his old life back. You can’t give up not knowing who’s the culprit, not just yet.

And you’d rather be cursed than making out of this place alive and leaving Minho behind. Your conscience won’t ever forgive you.

When that thought crosses your mind, you grit your teeth and suddenly the sword stops sliding down, leaving you dangling midair on one arm. The rapier is too slender, it won’t hold on for long, and it’s not like you can climb all the way up to the top.

A mighty, fearsome roar blares through your brain like wildfire so you flutter your eyes upward to see the dragon with its wings folded on both sides, diving at an immaculate speed into the hole, in your direction.

There’s my ride.

eight.

Once the blizzard settles down, the setting sun comes with a sky of fire, the orange of every wintry hearth. The color stretches far and wide along the horizon like a reflection of the dawn that comes after the velvety night.

That’s when Minho sees them.

The crystals have grown as something alive may do, thriving over the ages, through many generations. As such they become a rainbow sea made of perfect rocks, the shoreline ever-present and still with colors that shine in the brilliant light of a richness that only nature can bring. Minho might feel bad when he snaps off a piece, it’s like cutting a single, healthy rose in the middle of the thorny garden. But if it’s for Chan, he’s certain that you’d do anything at any cost.

Minho sheaths his sword and sighs, turning around, “Y/N are you okay?” All that he’s met with is a muffled silence, the cold wind whistling into his ears, the hollow space before his eyes white-out and empty.

“Y/N?” Nothing.

“Y/N!!” No one answers. “Y/N!!!”

No, he lets out a choked whimper. No, no, no.

His legs tremble inside his boots, his lips quivering, his fists clenched, his fingers turning cold. And the thing that terrifies him most? His heart feels like someone is grasping on it so tightly as though they’re going to crush it with their bare hands.

A seed of fear suddenly grows inside his rib cage, thriving at an abrupt pace, branching out, gripping onto every cell, every muscle inside his body. He can’t breathe. This can’t be it, he tells himself, tumbling backward a bit. He promised not to let this happen. He swore. Yet his biggest nightmare is only one step away from becoming a reality.

Minho wants to cry your name aloud over and over again until his vocal cords are torn apart, he wants to be vulnerable for once and let himself fall. How is he going to face Chan? And Changbin? And his own conscience? He might as well run his own sword through his heart because what would be the point in living if you’re no longer here?

All of this was a grave mistake. If only he didn’t throw the dart. If only you didn’t come with him. None of this would have happened. None of this would have happened if he didn’t accept that damned offer. He could have easily flipped you off the second that duel was finished and gone on this trip by himself. And face the scythe of Death alone, by himself, like he always does. He should have died alone, he deserves to die alone.

But this time, he didn’t make the right decision and the consequences are horrendous. He gave in because of your stubbornness, your determination, your bossy nature. He let you in and his walls came down tumbling one by one, his stern and trained facade shredded into pieces. His head is a mess whenever he sees your smile, his heart can permit you to tread on his boring life. And because of those merely unguarded moments, he’s killed another person that he truly cares about other than himself.

Wait, something clicks inside his head. He almost forgets the most important thing of all. The culprit.

Minho regains his composure and snaps his head back towards the crystals. The sun might be going down but its limited source of light is more than adequate to cast a shadow onto the snowy white surface. The shadow of a person, a person that’s not you. The shadow that sets a silent inferno inside his chest, the flame spreading by the ticking second.

“I have been waiting for you,” he turns on his heels, reaching for the hilt of his sword. “Hwang Hyunjin.”

The shadow visibly flinches before stepping out, a hand outstretching from the black cloak to pull down the hood. When Hyunjin’s face comes into view, Minho’s muscles tense up, anguish making his head a little dizzy. But he maintains his cold front, not letting his opponent see how much this is affecting him.

“I’ve got a feeling that you’d already figured it out the moment I visited the cabin,” Hyunjin says slyly, his facial expression rather relaxed. “And I was so close to silencing you little errand boy for good too, but I’ll admit, the little brat is well trained, he ran off before I could catch him. So tell me, Black Swordsman, where did I slip?”

“Your eyes,” Minho grits. “They weren’t staring at Chan with what’s supposed to be concern or relief. You were looking at him like a predator watching its prey from afar. If I weren’t keeping an eye on you, who knows what you would have done to him. He didn’t sound pleased when you touched him either.”

Hyunjin drops his cloak to the ground, laughing under his breath, “You are sharper than I’d expected.” He takes a few steps closer forward, craning his neck tiredly before drawing his sword, causing Minho to do the same. “Now, now, vice commander, an innocent man is about to be killed because of you.”

Minho can only snicker at the statement, “I’m not planning on going down easily.”

“So am I,” Hyunjin gets ready in his stance, glaring at his opponent. “I wasn’t really planning on dealing with you. I would rather end her and let you take the blame. Actually, that sounds like a better plan! Don’t you agree? No one would put their trust in you—a low, damned being who lives off the upper classes’ bloodied pennies.”

With his blood boiling hot, Minho inhales and exhales deeply to keep his voice calm. “End her?” he repeats after the guard. End her. Hyunjin hasn’t made a single move yet he feels like someone just stabbed him in the gut. How could he?! You trusted Hyunjin, you went through so much with him, you trained him. And now he’s just going to turn around and bite the hand that fed him? Traitor. “Over my dead body.”

Hyunjin lunges forward, his feet sprinting quickly and he brings his blade up from a lower angle while Minho attempts to clash him from the head down. Both of their swords get knocked away on different sides from the harsh contact. Before Hyunjin can raise his weapon again, Minho sword slices at him sideways but he luckily deflects it in time—the reflexes and muscle memories from his training are kicking in.

“Why are you doing this? Aren’t you her friend?”

Minho’s sword aims for his head once again; however, Hyunjin steps to the side and makes a grab for his hand, holding his weapon down. This makes Minho lose his balance for a few seconds while Hyunjin tries to cleave his neck. He stumbles on his heels at the last second, only getting away with a small cut on his cheekbone. The pain isn’t even there, he’s been beaten up ten times worse before, this is nothing. He’s practically numb by now.

“Friend?” Hyunjin drags his sword against the ground before bringing it up to stop a slash at his chest, throwing snow into Minho’s eyes. He groans agonizingly when the white matters’ coldness burns his skin, blurring his vision. “She and Chan only care about themselves! They are the ones who get all the praises and recognition after a mission. Little rumps like me and Changbin?”

He angrily tightens the grip on his weapon, dragging a long slice downward, “We didn’t have any title, we’re merely just two faces amongst a hundred of the other guards. We get treated like we don’t even exist!”

“Did Y/N ever treat you that way? And Chan too?” Minho heaves after dodging the blow by rolling on the ground. He’s circling around the guard, trying to keep his mind clear. “From what I’ve seen, she seems to care about you and Changbin as much as she does about her brother.

Hyunjin swings his sword at him, and Minho receives the hit with the edge of his blade. The sound of metal scraping against each other is pricking at his eardrums but he can care less, he won’t be dying today. “So you can break my soul,” Minho pants before both of them stagger backward, switching their initial position. “Take everything away from me.”

“Beat me up.” Another blocked blow.

“Tear me into pieces.” Anger almost tears through his mind again. Anger towards Hyunjin for betraying Chan, you, and his entire team. Anger for falling into his trap. Anger for not being able to keep you safe. He wishes he could just unleash all of his hatred and rage on the guard. But what can he do? He’s one to blame too, after all.

“Or kill me, even.”

Hyunjin catches up to Minho when he starts sprinting away to regain his vision, the two of them running side by side, in between the lined up crystals. Thrusting his sword at Minho in various directions, Hyunjin’s stabs are getting messy because of the limited amount of space.

“But I will tell you something, you’d better listen to me and listen to me for good.” Minho’s sword strikes at him but he blocks it in time, their faces inches apart and their weapons threatening to snap each other into half.

“Touch Y/N.” A low grunt escapes Hyunjin’s lips when Minho jabs his fist against his stomach, forcing air out from his lungs. “And I am going to give you a taste of hell. I have been there before, and you know what? You would be begging me for a painless death by then.”

When the guard falls onto his knees, his weapon dropping by his side with a loud clangor, Minho directs the tip of his sword on top of Hyunjin’s head. “Think about it again, do you think that all of this is really worth it?”

A sinister laugh echoed through his ears and Minho’s eyes grow alarmed when the blood trickled down on his cheek starts to harden a little. No, something’s wrong. “You spoke too soon,” Hyunjin tells him with a devilish tone, the corners of his lips being tugged up into a smirk.

What is this? On the tip of his fingers reveals a dark shade of blue, it almost reminds him of the royal guards’ uniform. Suddenly his body collapses, he can’t feel his muscles, he can do nothing. His sword is so far away from his grip, he can’t even move his fingers. Paralytic poison. “You bastard!”

Hyunjin pushes himself off the ground, holding his sword by the hilt when the tip is faced downward. “I suppose this is the end. Our encounter is rather short but it was a pleasure to cross swords with the infamous Black Swordsman,” he raises it, chuckling. “Goodbye, Lee Minho.”

Minho locks his jaw, his muscles tense but he can’t move, his eyes are shut while he braces himself for the contact. But it never comes. A growl as loud and frightening as a clap of thunder rumbles through the sky and that’s when Minho opens his eyes to see the shadow of a dragon flying not too high above. Next thing he knows, a figure jumps off, falling rapidly like a lightning bolt.

Your foot slams onto Hyunjin’s shoulder, causing him to fall back while you land on the ground safely. Before he can register the situation, your rapier is drawn to yank his long sword away. “Hyunjin?” you grit with tears brimming in your eyes. “Why?”

Hyunjin doesn’t respond, instead, he takes a few strides towards you wordlessly. You don’t raise your weapon nor retreat it, simply keeping it limp by your side. But he lifts the blade of your sword with his hands and swiftly runs it through his stomach, blood splattering everywhere. His arms are weak, yet he still tries to put one of them around your back, pulling you closer and leaning his head on your shoulder. “Congratulations, vice commander,” he taunts into your ear.

“You’re a murderer.”

nine.

Chan finds himself waking up on a plain bed, a white blanket draped over him, and a cold towel on his head. All the mayhem from the past week comes crashing down on him like a tsunami, banging against his temple. He tries to push himself up but his limbs are too wobbly—it feels foreign, it’s like he’s inside someone else’s body and not his own. With every move, his head pulses in agony, and his muscles ache.

The pain stops when he sees you sleeping soundly against his bed, your head rested on your forearms. Another figure is present too, on the couch staring blankly at the flickering fireplace. Opening his mouth to speak, Chan scrunches his nose in pain as he accidentally strains his vocal cords but no words come out, only incoherent sounds.

“...Chan?” you rub the sleep away from your eyes, yawning tiredly.

“Ah..ah..ah,” Chan can only lift his arms, calling out to you in desperation. His eyes grow stingy at the sound of your voice and before he knows it, tears are already rolling down in his cheeks relentlessly.

“Chan, it’s alright,” you hush him softly, slipping your arms around him and holding him tight. “Everything’s fine now, you’re safe. You’ve done enough.” You bury your face into the crook of his neck, that way he won’t be able to see your glassy eyes. This isn’t the time to cry in front of him.

The door closes with a sharp thud.

Chan only convinces himself that he��s still alive, and back to his human form, not being buried six feet under the ground somewhere when your fingers graze the dull lines that his tears leave behind. A sense of relief washes over him the moment he sees your smile, though insomnia has been carved into your features over time. You’re safe, he closes his eyes. You’re not hurt.

That’s all that matters.

“Wait for me here, I’ll call Yeji in,” you give his hands one last squeeze. Chan pulls you back for a second there, a faint frown adorns his face. “Just leave the rest to me, we’re going to be alright.”

With Chan’s weak smile as an approval, you dash outside, finding Minho standing like a soulless being at the front door of the cabin. He can’t bring himself to face you after what he did. His body is tired, his mind is a mess, and his heart is filled with sorrow. Even his sword seems too heavy for his existence, it’s weighing him down, making him not be able to move.

“This was all my fault, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer him and instead outstretch your hand, letting your fingers tug at the sheath of his sword. “Minho, it’s no one’s fault,” you mumble with your head hung low. “I dragged you into this. If anything, I’m the one to blame.”

“No!” His sudden outburst makes you flinch; hence you pull your hand back with a wide-eyed expression on your face. “If I hadn’t thrown that dart, we wouldn’t have met. If you hadn’t followed me on the trip, nothing would have happened! None of this would have happened! You almost died back there, Y/N. Do you know how much it scared me?”

“So you’re just going to leave me like this?” you raise your voice, trying not to snap at him. “After everything, you’re still going to turn away from me? Just like how you did to everyone else?”

“I-“

“Lee Minho, if you claimed to care about me so much-”

“I should stay away from you, I will only cause you more trouble. Even worse, I will get you in danger. I won’t forgive myself if anything happens to you.” His heart clenches at his own words as his shoulders shake, arms tense on his sides.

You reach for his hand, and huff in determination, “Stick to your words and protect me then.”

ten.

It’s been a week since the incident happened. Hyunjin has managed to live after the fight, yet he wants to keep his lips sealed for a while as to why he intended to harm the commander of his team in the first place. For now, he’s being kept in the dungeon while the king and queen permit you to do whatever. After all, he didn’t cause the kingdom any trouble. And if you were being honest, you would forgive Hyunjin without a second thought just so things can be normal again. It’s not as easy as you’d hoped.

Minho, on the other hand, has been praised tremendously by everyone in court for what he did. His name has been cleansed and every flighty rumor or gossip about him has been cleared out. He doesn’t like this at all, journalists are starting to snoop around Jisung’s place, leaving him no choice but to stay at Yeji’s log house for some time. His reputation was what used to keep him safe, now everything’s being flipped upside down.

He stares at his own reflection in the mirror from across the room. Minho can’t tell if it’s because he’s only worn the color black for the longest time or he’s being irrational, but he thinks the white loose shirt and matching pants that the mage brought back last night from the castle just don’t look right. Is his own moniker messing with his head? Probably.

Glancing sideways to catch a glimpse of his sword on his bed, he exhales dejectedly. I look like a joke, Minho thinks to himself.

“I never knew the Black Swordsman would look this dashing in white,” Chan enters his room with a dimpled smile on his face, Changbin following him suit. He’s recovering from the past week of living his life as a wolf, it’s still quite hard for Chan to walk so Yeji forced him to use a wheelchair for the time being.

“Don’t you guys have any clothes that aren’t so flashy?” Minho cracks a crooked smile, feeling unfamiliar being dressed in such a bright color. “I look ridiculous.”

Chan chuckles wholeheartedly and shakes his head, “Actually, that’s one of our less flashy ones. Don’t worry, you look great.”

“Why are you here, anyway?” Minho’s question isn’t necessarily directed towards Chan, but rather the person standing behind him. “If you want to curse me for the things I’ve done, then fine, I accept it. I will leave Kalmburg and move to the other side of the Continent. You’ll never have to see me again.”

Changbin steps forward, and with a deep breath, he says, “Thank you, Minho.”

Minho can’t believe his ears, did he just—

“Thank you,” Changbin says again; this time more firmly, and the look in his eyes softening. In those brown orbs, Minho can once again see the look he used to be met with five years ago, no hatred or anger, just warmth. He missed this. A ‘thank you’ has never sounded so nerve-calming before. It’s genuine, it’s real. Heartwarming, almost.

“When you told me that you would protect her,” Changbin continues, gaze cast downward. “I almost believed you, I knew you weren’t lying. It felt like that day after we both got out of the dungeon all over again. My anger always got the best of me and I just burst. I never gave you the chance to explain yourself, I never got to know your reasons. I am sorry because I didn’t care about you enough, as a friend.”

“I am sorry too,” Minho rises from his seat on the bed, suppressing the happiness inside his ribcage. “I’m sorry I bailed on you that day, I think about it all the time.”

He pauses for a moment and sees Changbin outstretching his hand, the familiar broad smile dancing on his lips. Minho accepts his friend’s warm handshake and reciprocates his grin. “You’d better stay alive first before apologizing.”

Minho widens his eyes, “Of course I am alive!”

“No, I mean,” Changbin waves his hand dismissively. “I was going to ask you to join us since there’s a good chance that His Majesty won’t turn you down, but then I’d figure, you’re too reckless for us to handle either way. So if you’re planning on going out here and throwing yourself at monsters, you’d better stay safe or I wouldn’t forgive you again. And Y/N would never forgive herself.”

Chan eyes the small box sitting neatly on Minho’s nightstand, and teases, “Speaking of Y/N, when will you tell her?”

Minho scratches the nape of his neck with glowing cheeks, he can physically feel the pink tint darkening by the second. “I don’t know, but soon. I still need to have his permission first,” he leans over to take the box in his palm, opening it carefully.

The sight of the silver band resting nicely inside makes his chest swell, his beating heart doing its best to not implode from joy. It might be too early, but he’s scared that if he doesn’t do this now, fate is going to be one step ahead and take you away from him forever.

“Minho!” Yeji calls out to him from behind the door. “Y/N’s here!”

“I wish the best of luck for you then,” Chan tosses a wink in his direction.

eleven.

“No one asked you to come, Han.” Is the first thing Minho spats out when he closes the front door with his bag slung over his shoulder. Jisung’s welcoming grin falls flat on his face at his friend’s cold remark. He really should have got used to these things by now.

“I did,” you tell him with crossed arms, releasing your grip on Noir’s reign. “Yeji said she’s running low on some herbs so I introduced her to Jisung’s place.”

Minho rolls his eyes to the moon. “Aren’t there more trust-worthy stores for the royal mage? Why would you refer her to that dingy dumpster?” And this statement prompts Jisung to give his knee a harsh kick followed by a mere glare from the younger boy.

“I actually like his place, it’s cute,” you scoff. He’s just acting out since Jisung always shows up unannounced.

“Why? It’s a rip-off.”

“Minho, you were living there for free!”

“I’m going to leave you two love birds alone now,” Jisung pushes past you to shoot Minho a mischievous smirk, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Don’t do anything weird to her or Chan is going to cut your arms off.” Actually, you’re fully capable of cutting his arms off yourself if he dared think about doing something damned. The swordsmanship runs in the family after all.

Your face morphs into a frown when Jisung finally enters the cabin, your head tilted to the side in confusion. “What is he talking about?” you ask but brush it off nonetheless; it’s Jisung, you can’t expect anything less from him. “Forget it, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Minho answers while petting Noir, your horse nudges her nose against his face in return—she’s always been keen on seeing him since day one. “How is your father these days? Last time I’d asked, you told me that he’d retired.”

You nod, resting your palm on the hilt of your sword, “He’s good. He said he’s already too old to train soldiers and he’d rather stay at home. Though he’s getting bored these days since there’s not much to do anymore. He’ll find a new hobby soon enough, he will need to take a break from everything eventually. Father has never let himself rest after our mother passed away, constant work distracts him.”

Minho hears you let out a small sigh and takes another step, his hands finding their way towards yours, collecting your fingers between his, giving them a firm squeeze.

You give in after a few moments to face him completely, concern is flashing in his eyes while a small smile blooms on his lips. He looks a little tired, probably didn’t get any sleep for the past few days while you’re resolving all the problems in court. Minho never fails to stun you nonetheless, from the curve of his lips to the fullness of his eyelashes and the adoration in his warm eyes for you and only you; they make you feel at ease.

“Like father, like daughter,” he brushes a strand of hair away from your face and jokes. “You’d better be eating well and getting enough sleep, vice commander.”

You snicker, “Speak for yourself, Black Swordsman, you look terrible.” That’s a lie, he looks absolutely wondrous it’s unfair.

“I like this color on you,” you giggle after noticing his appearance today. They really don’t have any dark-colored pieces of clothing in the castle. “Look, we’re matching. You’re just not matching with your sword anymore.”

“Y/N.” The merry tone in his voice suddenly drops and Minho looks away, his muscles loosening. “Can I ask you something? But I don’t want you to get mad at me.”

You’re suddenly worried. “What’s wrong?”

“On the day that the incident happened….,” he trails off nervously. “Why didn’t you run away? You could have just left me there and got home safely. There will always be another way to help Chan. The chances of surviving that fight were too slim, there’s no telling what would happen. Why would you—”

“Lee Minho, are you even hearing yourself right now?” you cup his cheeks so that he’ll look at you. “Are you assuming I’m some sort of lowly being who will run away while their partner is in danger? I’d rather die with someone than let that person die in front of my eyes. Especially when it’s you! I would never forgive myself if I ever did that to you. So why are you saying such things?”

Minho reaches for your hand and melts into your touch, exhaling heavily.

“I don’t know...I’m sorry I think I’m losing my mind. After everything, I’m scared that I might lose you. All I want to do is run away with you, from all of this, from everything. We can live together in someplace far away, where no one can find us,” he clenches his eyes shut.

“I just- I don’t want you to be in love with someone who always has hell hanging by his doorstep, who gets his hands bloodied for a living, who—“

You place your index finger on his lips and shake your head. “Do you even know who I am in love with? Hm?” you question.

“I’m in love with the most caring, kindhearted man that the world could ever ask for. Whose heart is so warm and fragile, he’s afraid to let anyone in because of his tough past. Whose will is so unwavering he didn’t even think twice about fighting off a dragon alone. But what makes me fall so stupidly for him, is the fact that despite his wounds and scars, he’d always prioritize other people’s needs before his own. Because he’d rather believe and regret than doubt and regret.”

“Y-You’re in love with me?” he studies your delicate feature in the daylight, his heart going on a rampage.

You chuckle to yourself, “Yes, more than I should be because you’re a pain in the-“

Minho presses his lips against yours and inhales every word, sealing the nagging in until you respond to the kiss. Your hands find their way up to his soft hair, weaving themselves into the dark locks and dropping to caress his face after. He latches his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his so he can have more control of your movements. You’re drowning in his existence as he tugs and nibs at your bottom lip, trailing small kisses down your jawline before pulling away completely.

“I guess this means you’re in love with me too?” you ask to distract yourself from the heat that’s flaring through your nostrils, setting your heart on fire.

Your question has him stop for less than a moment, realizing that maybe he is in love with you as much as you are with him. And maybe you want him just as much as he wants you too.

He nods curtly, breath shaking, “Yes, yes I am.”

For the longest time, Minho used to forbid himself to cry, smile, and laugh like any sane human being would, as he thinks expressing his emotions is being strong, is protecting himself. But in reality, he’s just running away from his own problems instead of finding ways to solve them.

Now, he will let himself fall, he will let himself cripple, he will let his tears run freely for strength is simply an illusion, there are far more important things. He will fight for what he believes in, protect what he cares about and run on his bare feet through the entire galaxy if it means he gets to see you at the end of it, if it means you can dive into his arms, safe and sound.

Then, Minho thinks of what’s inside the little box, making the thing thundering inside his chest skip a beat. “Will you stay by my side forever?” he blinks.

“Is that even a question?” you convey between labored pants. “Even if fate pulls you to the other side of the universe, I will find you, do you hear me? I will find you and fall in love with you all over again.”

“Very well then,” he holds you by the shoulders; the eagerness in his eyes lights up a curiosity inside you. “Y/N, let’s..” But it’s gone before you can even register. “Let’s get going, we’re going to be late.” It’s not quite the right time yet. He still needs to meet someone before tying you up with him for eternity.

Because Minho too, will always find you and fall in love with you all over again. If fate has a problem with that, then he won’t be giving a damn.

#stayshub #skzwritersclub #inkidz #stray kids fluff #stray kids lee know #stray kids scenarios #lee know imagines #stray kids imagines #lee know scenarios #stray kids fantasy au #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #lino fic #lee minho #minho fantasy au #lee know fantasy au

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pjoseries · 4 years ago

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“i bear it so they won’t have to” + curse of achilles percy

oh this one’s a doozy, thank u emma 😋

(TLO AU)

══════════════════

Percy doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it—the bloodlust. It starts out as a whisper, a simple low hum drifting across the nape of his neck. It crawls in his ear and settles inside his brain and every time he uncaps Riptide, a single persistent thought crosses his mind: Show no mercy.

And he doesn’t. Not when a hoard of monsters comes barrelling through their ranks. Not when he sees the other campers on their feet, but flagging, exhaustion bogging them down as monster after monster charges at them. Percy holds his own on the front lines, raising his voice to be heard, “Fall back!”

He repeats it again for good measure and the piercing, confused stares from them quickly fade as he gains the attention of every monster in his vicinity. A grin slides across his face and he gives Riptide a twirl.

“How many of you do I have to kill before you get with the program,” Percy taunts. He lets one of them come close enough to sink their claws into his skin, but it just slides right off, ripping through his shirt instead.

The monster gapes for a moment and attempts to slice through him again, but Percy just tsks and tilts his head. “Nice try, but no dice, man.”

He impales the monster in a quick movement, leaving him in a shower of dust. He grimaces and looks at the others. They march towards him, but Percy doesn’t even think. He blocks and jabs and slices his way through the dust and the dirt and he feels nothing. The curse really works.

He doesn’t know how long it takes to slay the last monster. He just knows that at the end, he’s drenched in monster dust and sweat. Percy finally rolls his shoulders, taking in the damage. The borders are safe for now. He spots a few campers a ways away limping and handing each other ambrosia. Footsteps come towards him and he whirls and points Riptide at empty air.

It takes him a moment, but even that’s too long, before he lowers his sword. It’s Annabeth, of course. He furrows his brows. He knows it’s her. She wipes the sweat off her forehead and tucks her cap into her back pocket.

“Percy, what was that?” she asks, gray eyes glinting in the afternoon light.

“I, uh,” he says, pocketing Riptide back into his jeans. “I’ll tell you later. We have to check on—”

Annabeth stomps towards him and grips his arm. Logically, he knows how tight of a grip it is, but it’s weird that it doesn’t even sting. “Did you… gods, you didn’t. That trip with Nico… Percy, that is stupidly dangerous.”

She knows. Of course, she figures it out. Percy’s just a fool for thinking he could have broken the news to her later.

“I did what I had to do.” Percy grits his teeth and steps back.

She tugs him closer. “You could’ve died.”

Percy makes the mistake of looking into her eyes again, shiny with unshed tears and he falters. He can’t stand to see her cry. He musters up a wry smile and shrugs. “I’m here, though.”

He tells her nothing of what he saw as he made his way out of the River Styx, doesn’t say a single word about how the first time he ever felt like he would drown that her voice was the only thing he grabbed onto. All he does is loosen her grip with his free hand and gives it a small squeeze.

“I’ll tell you more about it later, okay?” Her hand is warm and callused from training and it takes him a few seconds to remember he has something to say. “We need to go to the Big House.”

Annabeth just nods and he lingers for a moment before he lets go. As they make their way to Chiron, their hands brush and all thoughts of the fight vanish from his mind.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

It’s on the bridge when he gets an inkling that something is wrong, not with the curse or with the battle itself, but him. It’s similar to the last fight, Percy yelling at the Apollo campers to retreat, but the last of the monsters are dead. All that remain is Kronos himself and his demigod army.

He slows himself down, aiming to knock them off their skeletal horses and send them running, not maim. Their swords bounce off his skin harmlessly and Percy vaguely notes that he’s ruining his already low supply of shirts.

The voice is louder now, but still the same. Persistent as a tic: Show no mercy.

Shut up, he wants to bite back, but he already looks insane just charging through a swarm of demigods and coming out completely unscathed. They make their way almost to the middle of the bridge when Percy freezes, like a lightning bolt just jolts through his body. Then: Annabeth screams.

“Annabeth!” he yells and turns. A guy stands over her, his knife bloodied and dripping. Percy sees red and the voice persists louder again and he’s almost tempted to take its advice if it isn’t for Annabeth’s weak gasps.

Percy would’ve died, if not for Annabeth and Annabeth’s dying because of him. Because he’s too damn focused on that stupid voice in his head that makes him want to tear the bridge apart and everyone in it. She doesn’t even know that’s his weak spot.

He locks eyes with the demigod—Ethan, his mind supplies—and stalks towards him. In a beat, Percy slams his sword hilt into his face and feels a bitter sense of satisfaction as he grunts out in pain and moves away. A couple of other demigods try to come closer, but he swings Riptide as a warning.

“Get back!” he growls. “No one touches her.”

Kronos merely hums. “Interesting.”

Percy just scowls and steps closer to Annabeth. Suddenly Achilles words come back to him: The heel is only my physical weakness, demigod. He was dumb enough to ignore Achilles’ warnings and now his weakness is staring him right in the face, her face turning ashy as her breaths weakening. Annabeth. His tie to the mortal world. He should’ve known. Maybe somewhere in the back of his mind, he always knew, but the war took precedence. Now look where it got him.

She’s dying and he’s surrounded by enemies.

“Bravely fought, Perseus Jackson,” Kronos says. “But it’s time to surrender, or she’ll die.”

Annabeth sits up and groans. “Don’t.”

Percy clenches his jaw and bites back the panic at the sight. Her shirt is soaked in blood and he has to get her to a healer. His mind swirls for an escape route and, in a second, he yells out, “Blackjack!”

The pegasus swoops and carries her out and away from any immediate danger. Percy’s glad he knows what to do because he doesn’t have any time to explain. Luke—Kronos’ face twists.

Percy meets the scythe with Riptide.

Then their battle begins. And for once, Percy lets the voice in his mind take over.

Show no mercy.

Percy smiles. He won’t.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

The voice stays with him, long after the war ends. Despite how many hours he’s clocking in that affects his sleeping schedule, or the lack of one, he notices that he’s itching for a fight.

It makes no sense. He wants to rest, but the voice tells him he has the curse for a reason. What use is he to his friends, to his family if he lets them go off on dangerous quests to get injured or worse? A couple of extra more hours of sleep is a petty consequence when it means saving everyone the trouble of getting hurt.

So despite Annabeth’s warnings, he volunteers to guard the fleece, or to head training, or to do any of the more dangerous missions. There’s an undisputed agreement amongst the campers that they’ll let Percy do whatever he wants which is kind of weird but it works in his favor, so he’ll take it. Well, unless their names are Annabeth and Grover, that is.

But after this one quest—if he can even call it that, maybe just a favor for his father—Percy lands back on the shore, sitting with his knees tucked to his chest. His hands tremble as they flex over his own legs. The water rushes to his ankles, an attempt to calm him down but he just flinches. It just makes things worse.

Percy’s no better than the monsters he fights.

He wonders if monsters never exploded into dust, if they bleed like he does. He wonders how much blood he’s spilled, how much it stains his hands, his heart, his soul.

“Percy?” Annabeth says quietly. She pads over to him, settling down right next to him. The water drenches her shoes, but she just places a warm hand on his. “Percy, hey. Are you… okay?”

Her tone is awkward, but there’s an earnestness to it that makes him soften slightly. So he lifts his shoulder in response and stares out into the water.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Percy clears his throat. “Do what?”

“Go on all these quests. Try to save everyone. The war’s over, Percy. You can just enjoy camp like everyone else, too. You don’t have to do everything. You’re not Atlas.”

“Annabeth, this curse… I have a responsibility. Why let everyone else get hurt if I can do it? They’re just kids.” Percy unfolds his legs and lets Annabeth’s weight ground him. It’s like the voice gets muffled when she’s near. “And besides, I bear it so they won’t have to.”

Annabeth’s fingers find his cheek and he crumbles under her touch. He turns and Annabeth has this expression on her face that he can’t parse out. He closes his eyes and lets her smooth out the wrinkle between his brows, lets her trace a swooping pattern on his cheek. “You’re sixteen, Percy, not sixty-five. You have to let yourself take a break, Percy. The others need to know how to survive out there without you. You’re not always gonna be there to protect them. You’re gonna run yourself to the ground and I’d like to see my boyfriend awake once in a while.”

“Guess my eyes have to be open for that.” Percy smiles into her fingertips and blinks exaggeratedly at her. She giggles and it sends warmth all the way down to his belly. She stands up and brushes off the sand from pants before she holds out her hand.

Golden light shines behind her, circling her like a halo. He’s suddenly reminded of his dip in the Styx, the way dream-Annabeth held in her laughter as she grabbed his hand and pulled him up. Real-Annabeth wiggles her fingers and he lets her haul him up.

“Promise you’ll take it easy?” she asks.

And his answer is an easy one. He kisses the side of her head. “Promise.”

Then they walk back to camp, their hands swinging between them.

#percabeth #percabeth fic #percy jackson #annabeth chase #f: pjo #p: percabeth #misc: fr #misc: fic #fic: living on a wire #t: ask #emma tag #*#my writing #bipercabeth #je réponds #la poste #prev. biannabethchase #100

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votederpycausemufins · 4 years ago

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-puts more angst on the plate that is this fic- have fun~!

@petrichormeraki “Oh myan oh myan oh myan!” Crumb wiggled her stubby cat legs as she held onto Tubbo, her smaller form going unnoticed by their avian captor. “Where’s he takin’ us?”

“I d-don’t know.” Tubbo replied, trying not to sound as scared as he felt. “I o-only came here recently. T-Tommy’s the one that knows everything.”

“Well, Sprinklez will definitely find us and and he’s gonna slay dis beast!”

“What?! No! He can’t do that! That’s Tommy’s brother! There’s just something wrong with him. Tommy used seeds last time so we need those.”

“Okee okee okee, I’ll look for seeds when we land.”

“Thanks Crumb.” The two were otherwise silent as Grian continued to fly, but then they both noticed as he seemed to sway in the air, his flight no longer steady. “Um, Grian? Grian? What was the other name? Xelqua? I know Tommy’s been calling you Big G, even though it feels like he’s- woah!”

Grian’s flying straightened out and then his face appeared as he looked down at Tubbo. Tubbo froze, there were feathers all over the place and even more eyes than before. While they were mainly purple, his two original eyes were now a more reddish hue.

Tubbo could feel Crumb shift on their back, thankfully out of sight. There seemed to be a little whimper their ears picked up, but it didn’t seem Grian heard the same, or just assumed it was Tubbo.

Grian looked back up and with him no longer blocking the view, Tubbo could see Grian’s mansion getting closer. His old hope was that maybe Tommy was there.

Grian landed on the roof of the place, dropping Tubbo and making Crumb roll on the ground. He spotted her instantly and immediately grabbed her instead. “No! Leave her alone!” Tubbo shouted, but he didn’t listen. The teen could only watch as a portal of bedrock and obsidian appeared. Magic that matched Grian’s eyes appeared in the frame as it was lit and then Crumb was tossed into the portal.

Crumb screamed as she was thrown through, scared about what would happen and what would be on the other side. She seemed to be falling for an eternity and was scared about what would happen when she finally hit the ground. She thought about making sure she was really a cat to try and mitigate it, but then realized a more obvious answer would be a bird.

Not wanting to become a parrot after everything that just happened. Crumb shifted into a chicken. She spread her little white wings and her descent slowed, allowing her to finally get a look at her surroundings. Based on the chill of the air and the darkness of the world around her, it looked like the void. Crumb looked around, hoping to see the creamy yellow color of endstone, but there was none to be seen.

“What’s a chicken doing here?” Someone spoke up and Crumb started looking around. Beside her, also falling, was a man in a bee suit.

“Dat’s one big bee!” Crumb said, shocked, surprising the bee man as well.

“Oh, you must have been one of the visitors. I was told there would be a shapeshifter.”

Crumb nodded and then shifted to her cat hybrid form. “Ye, I’m Crumb. I came here wit my dad Sprinklez. Are we in da void?”

“Not quite. I’m not sure where we are. If it were the normal void I could easily get us out of here, but that’s not the case.”

“Aww, well, I was wit my new friend Tubbox and den a big harpy lookin’ guy attacked us and apparently he was my other new friend Tommy’s brudder.”

“So that was Grian. I wasn’t completely sure it had been so fast. I tried contacting the other Hermits but my communicator isn’t working and I can’t even reach my admin panels.”

“Oh dat’s not good.”

“No it is not.”

Tubbo tried to run to the portal, but was stopped by Grian. “Bring her back! She’s my friend! Tommy’s too!”

But Grian just stared as he tried, getting in their way. Tommy didn’t say anything about a cat friend, right? No, he didn’t. It was just Tubbo, and now Tubbo was going to be safe. Tubbo will go in the nest and stay there while he gets rid of everyone else. Grian dragged Tubbo over to the window near the nest and started to break the blocks to get in. Halfway through, he noticed the nest was very empty.

Someone took them, a voice shouted. Or killed them came another. They may have just gone looking. Or are hiding. They’ll come back for a Tubbo, right? Right. Grian liked how helpful the voices were being. He plopped Tubbo down in the nest.

“Let go of me! And bring Crumb back! She’s our friend!”

“Bring. Back. Friend.” Grian parroted. “Bring back friend.”

“Yes!” Tubbo pleaded. “Yes make another portal to bring Crumb back. Her dad will be so worried if she’s gone again.”

“꘠႑𑁦᠑෦१߀០ ⓿೧꣠༠፩⓵១୧ ႐Ⅰ㍘〇¹႞٠१ ႐Ⅰ㍘〇¹႞٠१ 𝟘᧚༳᧑➊০౸፩” Grian spoke in a language Tubbo had never heard and could barely comprehend. He covered his ears only to find them slightly wet and pulled a hand back to see blood come back, though it was turning a purplish hue. That freaked Tubbo out and he scrambled away, trying to find an escape from the roof that wouldn’t kill them.

But before he could go far, Grian grabbed him again and when their eyes opened again, he was in what seemed to be a large nest. “Uh… h-huh… guess that makes s-sense for a bird. Avian. Harpy? W-whatever you are right now.”

He’s scared of you. He should be. But he’s Tommy’s friend. Tommy asked you to keep him safe. Why is it purple. Duh, because of the Watchers. But he’s not one, right? But it happened because of Grian. He’s still bleeding though.

Grian looked closer at Tubbo, they were right, he was bleeding. But no, it couldn’t have happened because of him. It had to have been that outsider. One of the ones causing problems. Just like Xisuma had been. But now they were both gone. Now he just needed Mumbo and Tommy and his children here too. And then he could get rid of everyone else that shouldn’t be here.

Grian left Tubbo in the nest as he flew back into the air, using Watcher magic to take him elsewhere in the world.

Philza woke up to someone shaking him violently, it made his eyes snap open and look around to see iron bars surrounding him. He planned to look around more for a way out but a giant white mask with a smile on it was peering at him, shocking him and making him squawk. It was then he realized he was currently in his raven form, and there was no way he could shift back while in what was most likely a bird cage.

“Took you long enough to wake up.” Dream spoke to him. They were both outside, which shouldn’t have been possible with the former admin in the vault. “I suppose rest was needed after your fight.” Phil couldn’t remember any fight. “I had no idea Grian was your son. I guess it makes sense with his achievements, even if you abandoned him for most of his life.” Philza crowed, trying to argue with Dream, managing a ‘fuck you’ with his mimicry skills as a raven. But the cage just got rattled around again.

“Tommy doesn’t belong in a place like that. He belongs here. Watchers are dangerous beings Philza. You leaving him there is practically a death sentence. It would be best if you went over there and brought him back along with anyone else that’s over there.” Philza tried to argue, but he suddenly had a dizzy spell. “People like me don’t just become admins. We have to jump through hoop after hoop. I may not be an admin anymore, but I’m not powerless. You have two options here. Bring Tommy back, or don’t and I bring him back myself. And I won’t be as kind as you might be to him.”

Philza wanted to argue, but if Dream could do this, there’s no telling what could happen to Tommy now that it was obvious this man wasn’t playing nice anymore. He bowed his head in defeat and the next moment the cage was opened and he was dropped out of it. “Now don’t take too long, or I’ll assume you’ve betrayed me, and it’ll be even worse for the two of you.” Dream threatened, and Philza nodded before flying to the infinity portal.

Grian looked down at his friend defending the enemy. Is he really your friend anymore if he’s doing that? Maybe they were more friends with Xisuma than you. He was gone for three months, why wouldn’t he change sides for that. “Grian, you need to calm down. We can’t find Xisuma right now, so if you-”

“Can’t find Xisuma. Right now. Down.” Behind Iskall, Hbomb pulled out an axe, ready to fight Grian. Reluctantly Iskall pulled out a weapon of their own, not completely willing to fight their friend, especially since they had some trouble when all the hermits had been there.

The moment H took a step, Grian attacked, and Iskall barely had time to react and attempt to get between the two. Their shield was held up, but there was enough force from Grian’s attack that Iskall felt themself be pushed back until they collided with Hbomb. There was what sounded like a portal behind them and Iskall spawn a glimpse of what looked like bedrock before they were falling.

Grian watched the portal disappear, a pang of guilt hitting him. He didn’t want to get rid of Iskall, but he had to. People like that weren’t supposed to be here. They needed to go into the portal-pit. Tools in the portal. Gear in the pit. Enemies in the portal-pit. Yes. It was all very logical. Right?

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #tommyinnit #tubbo #crumbl #cuptoast #grian #grian xelqua #watcher!grian #avian!grian #xisumavoid #hbomb #iskall #dreamwastaken #still not a fan of how dream's persona eminates someone... problematic #philza

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vegalocity · 4 years ago

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Tell no tales (Red Groom AU)

I debated for awhile about whether to make the Miracle Max segment its own part or not, and then figured 'eh may as well for tonal consistency' this is the act 2 darkest hour one may call it because...

...well you've seen the princess bride you know how this story goes once Westley's in the dungeon

TW: Suicide mention, Death

Red Son's knuckles were turning purple.

He didn't know how many times the bands had tightened around his wrists, restraining his magic further and slowly cutting off the bloodflow, but he could barely move them, and the slightest twitch brought pain.

“Ahhh beloved.” He glanced up and glared with as much venom as he could muster at the prince on the other side of the cage. “The time has come for you to make me the happiest man in this mountain!” The prince reached forward Seemingly to try and stroke Red Son's face, and perhaps if Red Son hadn't already been down in this cell, powerless and slowly growing more and more pained, he would have tried to play along in attempt to remove his restraints, but as it was, he was full of nothing but contempt and rage for the prince, his only thoguth was to lash out. So as the Prince's hand neared his face Red Son snapped his teeth, the threat to bite as clear as possible. The Prince pulled his hand back and huffed.

“Still so stubborn. Well Beloved, It saddens me to realize that your selfish stubbornness has forced my hand so, but all the same my hand has been forced. We must be quick before my father passes, his curse is getting worse and the healers have yet to heal him.”

“You cursed him yourself didn't you? Kin slaying garbage.” He hissed back, and the Prince at least had the good sense to not keep up the act. He rolled his eyes.

“Honestly, Macaque was right about you. Far too hotheaded to be of any use.”

“Why haven't you killed me already then?”

“You're going to need to be my husband before you're more useful dead.”

“You think I'd be consenting to a wedding at this point?”

“You don't need to. You know the old time customs as well as I do. And since you're not here by choice then wouldn't that mean-?”

“You think my parents wouldn't notice the change in circumstance? They're not stupid, you worm.”

“Oh of course not, but that doesn't mean anything when marrying you off means they don't have to deal with you anymore.”

“...Excuse me?”

“I mean, It makes sense doesn't it? Weren't you their only child? Why did they marry you off to another demon king-to-be instead of keeping you to inherit your father's position? Especially when they didn't even have much to gain from allyship with us?” The Prince laughed, a bitter, cruel sounding thing. “Your parents wanted rid of you once it became obvious what a weakhearted fool you always were, Red Son. They basically told my mother 'we will pay YOU to take him' when they arranged our betrothal, And once you're gone no doubt they'll only care as much as the blow to their image it will be that you died so quickly. 'Our poor useless boy didn't even have the time to pretend to TRY to be a good husband he could have at least saved us the trouble and taken his own life before we'd wasted so many resources on sending him over there.'”

Red Son snarled at the arrogance dripping from the prince's words. He knew his parents had grown rather short with him near the end, but that was in part due to his own stubbornness, not simple callousness.

“Not everyone is as heartless as you, scum.” Sure his family wasn't the warmest, but that didn't change that when he was at his lowest both his mother and father had been at his back. Though it was vindicating to know his continued dismissals of his suitors before the option was taken from him was the right course of action, it's not like he didn't know that his parents wanted what they believed was best for him.

They honestly thought that he needed to move on, they didn't know Xiaotian was still out there, they thought he was clinging to the memory of a dead man, and for a long time there he thought he was too.

Besides... If he had his days right he still has about a week before the ceremony and-

“It doesn't matter. My love will be coming for me.”

The Prince's face twisted in a scowl. “Your 'Love' couldn't stop a wedding in a few short hours time! I was merely visiting you as a courtesy 'beloved'. Maybe no one told you, but we will be wed tonight-” the Prince turned on his heel and snapped his fingers and a small gaggle of servants rushed in carrying bathing tools and finery. Before Red Son could make a break for it the cuffs straining his hands shuddered and forced his hands together. Though he could barely feel the motion until it was complete.

“He'll know that this wasn't my choice. And I'm not so easy to kill.” Red Son hissed with as much venom as he could muster into his voice. “My Xiaotian will return for me, and it'll be YOUR head I have on a spike while waiting for him, mark my words.”

The Prince turned on his heel and marched away. “Your Xiaotian will be dead on the 'morrow and so will you husband.”

Red Son would like to see him try.

–

“Ah, my prince, what a pleasant surprise. Shouldn't you be preparing for the wedding-?”

“Plans changed Macaque. I know you've had fun with him but I want this man dead. Now.”

“Bro, Bro we gotta get out of here!”

“Master Six Eared Macaque, My brother and I will be taking our lunch now 'Kay Thanks Byyyyeeeee”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Yes. I cannot afford to have my 'Husband' still counting on this helpless slab of meat to be able to stop things or he'll put up a fight I cannot afford to chance loosing! End him!”

“My prince the machine is very delicate-!”

The Prince cranked the machines settings as high as they would go.

A scream echoed through the air so loud that the heavenly court above took note for only a moment, a wave of pity from all whom heard the torment and agony was offered to the poor soul who uttered such a ravaged note.

Red Son looked up from where he'd been struggling against the servant trying to force him into his marital robes, a primal fear as he instinctively recognized the voice springing his fire forth and scalding himself as his restraints blasted his magic back onto him once more.

It couldn't be. As that was the cry of a dying man.

And he knew better than to doubt Xiaotian ever again.

If he could convince his heart to stop pounding that would be nice.

–

The Pit of Despair was spoken of only in rumor among the guards, so Sandy had heard of it briefly in his workings on the hastily assembled brute squad. Therefore after caring for Xiaojiao until she'd once again reached sobriety, he told her all he knew.

“-The only problem is, if the Monkey King really is this love of Prince Red Son's, the Pit of Despair is hidden from all eyes.” Sandy mused as he and his friend wandered through the forest. “It's said only the prince, and his adviser: Your enemy, know of its whereabouts.”

“Well there has to be SOMETHING we can work with!”

Then, much like Red Son surrounded by enemies in the mountain, they heard the scream.

“That way.” Xiaojiao uttered after a pause. “Follow the scream.”

“You can be sure it was the Monkey King?”

“Sandy my friend, that wasn't any scream of pain.” Xjaojiao stopped only for a moment to place a hand on his shoulder. “That was a cry of true agony. I felt it in my heart ten years ago watching my father bleed out, and I remember it's timbre. His true love is being forced to marry a cruel prince who intends on murdering him after the fact. If anyone knows true agony on this day, it's the Monkey King.”

“Do we really need him to find the Six Eared Macaque, you think?”

“Think about it Sandy, he outplayed me; blade versus staff, he subdued you despite your attempts to stall, and he must have outsmarted the Spider Queen, if there's anyone who can get us into that mountain it's the Monkey King.”

But their conversation was cut off as a pair of urgent whispering voices made themselves known.

“Ohhhh man, I heard that, that's gonna haunt me forever. Boss just totally killed that guy.”

“We all heard it Jin. I'm pretty sure the heavenly court heard it. Come on, brother you're going to be fine.”

“Don't just say stuff like that Yin it just invites disaster!”

“Jin, bro, I need you to be real with me, like one hundred percent real.” only then the two voices curved from behind a tree, a wheelbarrow carried between them. “Do you not have the stomach for this anymore? If you don't, we can leave. We can find work elsewhere, I don't think Mother would begrudge us for taking a little break-”

“I'm FINE Yin. Don't be so dramatic I'm not a sissy-!” The golden demon trailed off with a yelp as Xiaojiao grabbed him by his front.

“You know where they are? The man that screamed do you two know his location?” She unsheathed her sword just a bit, just enough to make the threat present. But just as the silver demon moved to try and throw her off of his brother Sandy stepped in and placed a large, iron gripped hand on either of their shoulders, pulling the gold one free from Xiaojiao's grip but keeping him just as immobile as his brother was now.

“Settle down, we're just tryin' to find our friend.”

“Haven't the foggiest idea what you guys are talking about.” The Silver demon tried.

“Indeed!” The Gold demon concurred. “Never seen any secret tunnels coming out of trees around here!”

Sandy raised his brow and Xiaojiao shared his look as the Gold demon seemed to realize he'd said too much.

“Well! It was nice talking to you both good luck in finding your friend!” he chirped, struggling to get himself free from Sandy's grip.

“And don't try to bother us further because we know nothing-” The Silver demon continued. Xiaojiao unsheathed her sword and held the very tip to the gold one's chin, tilting his head to meet her eye.

“In a funny turn of events something tells me you two know what we're looking for. Talk.”

“...Anyone ever tell you you have beautiful eyes, madame?”

The silver one groaned, and didn't even look particularly startled as Xiaojiao reeled back and knocked his brother out with the pommel of her sword.

Sandy scrambled to catch the gold demon as he slumped over, and though he had to let go of the Silver demon to do so Xiaojiao kept him from moving by turning her sword to him instead.

“You got any better ideas to cover your ass than flirting with the woman with a sword to you?”

“Uhhh Nope. Honestly I hate working here anyway. The secret passage is about a five minutes walk from here in thaaaat direction.” He pointed behind them. “Straight too, no turns, the tree is the one with all the knots. The Prince wanted Boss' workshop to be far enough from the mountain's base so he'd have distance for his 'experiments' to get loud without alerting anyone.”

“You're a fountain of wisdom. Take your brother and find some better work.”

The Silver demon did just that, and once they'd both vanished in the treeline she and Sandy exchanged a glance and nodded.

Five minutes was generous an estimate of course, and implied quite a lot about the lackadaisical pace the brothers usually kept as Xiaojiao and Sandy found the grove described to them within three. However, the Silver demon had neglected to mention a very important detail: There were many trees with many knots in the grove and it would be impossible to determine which of them was 'The' tree without searching every knot on every tree. Which could easily take hours that they did not have.

Just as Sandy was pondering over the quickest way to solve this conundrum he'd turned to see his friend in a very peculiar position, dropped onto a knee with the Jade sword held upright toward the sky.

“Xiaojiao?”

“I need a moment Sandy.” She stated calmly, her eyes shut and she took a deep breath.

“My family had a river of our own. When I was a girl I couldn't get to sleep without the gentle rush of the stream in my ears. I haven't slept a full night since the day I was expelled from my home. Every night as I settle down my ears strain for the familiar rush. My mother once said that I had an ear for the river's flow, and every night that was proven to be a curse as well as a gift.” Xiaojiao stood, her sword now held in both hands again, eyes still shut.

“There's water flowing near here.” she stated, voice barely over a whisper. “I can hear it.”

Sandy was quite literally a fish demon and even HE didn't have a sense for water like that. Nonetheless He found himself impressed with his friend all over again as she began to tilt her sword this way and that, as though it were helping her detect the source of the noise.

“I can hear it-” Xioajao whispered again before the tip of her sword embedded itself in a particular tree. She didn't open her eyes, merely placed a hand on the trunk and leaned in until her ear was pressed to the tree.

There was silence and then Xiaojiao smiled.

“It's this one. Sandy my friend, help me find the knot.” she quickly sheathed her sword and began to try as many knobs on the tree that were in her reach as possible.

It was only luck that the first knot Sandy tried gave way beneath his hand and with a small 'click' a hollow panel on the side of the tree swung open, revealing a staircase descending below.

Xiaojiao shot him a bright grin and Sandy grinned back bashfully, but before they could trade witty banter his friend's eagerness to finally reach her goal implored her to descend down the stairs. It was a bit of a Squeeze for Sandy but he was able to make his way down a few paces behind her.

And... Well the Pit of Despair was about what he'd expected. A dank dungeon like place, ornate lamps lighting the room trying to pretend there was a level of class present in the torture chamber, a huge water wheel was perched in the corner, heartily chugging away but no Six Eared Macaque for Xiaojiao to face.

There was however a figure strapped to a table beside the water wheel. Xiaojiao was quickly ensuring the three of them were alone but Sandy rushed to the strapped figure's side and-...

He was human. He was wearing the same clothes he remembered the Monkey King wearing, and his hair was the same shade of dark brown as he'd remembered the Monkey King sporting, but there were no simian features and no tail.

And he wasn't breathing.

“What?! Xiaotian dies!?”

“Well The prince had the machine turned up all the way, remember?”

“Well then who KILLS the prince? Is it Red Son? Xiaojiao?”

“Nobody. The Prince lives.”

“SO HE WINS?! That's not right who would write a story like that!?”

“You know- we should probably stop here, you're getting too heated, and you're sick, I don't want my own kid glaring at me because I made my grandbaby feel worse.”

“No! No! I'll be good I promise! I won't interrupt anymore I need to know how it ends!”

“You sure?”

“I'm sure! Grandpa Pleeeaaasseeeee?”

“Alright, if you're sure.”

“I am!”

“Well then....'Xiaojiao came to find Sandy quickly and examined the body on the table herself, a quick pass over with her eyes, and finding the same tells He did quickly enough.-

“He wasn't really the Monkey King...” she breathed. “A body double or something- How'd he learn to shapeshift like that?”

“He was mortal. Poor guy.” Sandy sighed and placed a large hand over the still chest.

Sandy held a moment of silence to try and give the dead man a moment's respect, but Xiaojiao had other plans, Her only shot at finally finding the Six Eared Macaque and having her revenge and he was dead on a slab. She shouted and kicked at the water wheel until one of the spokes cracked beneath her rage.

Then something occurred to Sandy.

“We have to get outta here.”

“Why?! Where are we going?!” Xiaojiao shouted, still lost in her anger. “It's not like we've got anything we're doing that's FEASABLE ANYMORE!” She kicked another wheel spike.

“Don't give up just yet, my friend.” Sandy huffed as he looked the body over once more looking for any lingering damages, and finding none he hefted it over his shoulder. “There's this guy back in the village, While I was on he brute squad, and you know, they thought I was actually gonna fight, they said not to worry about 'going too hard' because this guy can heal just about anything.”

“He's already dead Sandy-”

“Better than nothing.”

After a moment's pause, Xiaojiao shrugged and followed behind him.

“-Oh, you still got much money left after your bender?”

“Not much, why?”

“Sandy how much does this guy charge?”

“SANDY??”

#Monkie Kid #LMK #MK Red Son #Long Xiaojiao #LMK Sandy #Princess bride AU #TW Death #I had to make a fully origonal scene for the story to continue as necessary #Pour one out for Red's hands y'all its gonna be awhile before he can tinker again at this point #Red Groom AU #Vega writes stories too #Spicynoodleshipping

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strangeradventuresofp · 4 years ago

Text

second thoughts (legolas x reader)

The Fellowship of the Ring - Part 5

masterlist

warnings: character death, fighting

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

a/n: hi my lovelies! first of all im so sorry about how long this has taken me, ive been struggling with writers block since the last chapter so i apologise if this chapter is a bit crap but i actually really like it? im proud of myself lol a n y w a y it might be a little while before the chapters regarding the events of the two towers comes out as i need to plan etc etc but anyway i hope you guys enjoy this chapter! i love you guys so much, thanks for sticking with me<3

It had been days since you had set out from Lothlorien and no one’s spirits were above average. Frodo seemed wary; Sam worried for his master. Boromir did not speak much, even to you, which was very odd. Legolas kept to himself, more than usual. Gimli was particularly talkative, probably to fill the dreaded silence. Aragorn had nothing of importance to say. Merry and Pippin chatted back and forth quietly. And you, you did not know a single way to heighten their – and your – spirits, so you stayed silent instead.

You journeyed from Lothlorien on boats down the Great River, Anduin. Sam and Frodo rode with Aragorn, Merry and Pippin with Boromir and you with Legolas and Gimli. Honestly, you could not remember how long it had been since you had left, only that it seemed like a lifetime.

At one point, whilst sailing down the river, the sound of marching caught your attention, your head whipping to the left, finding nothing but trees and foliage. “What’s wrong, lassie?” Gimli asked, noticing that something that captured your focus.

“I thought I heard something beyond the trees.” You declared, shrugging when no one else heard anything. Suddenly though, Legolas faced the same trees, and the two you of shared an inquisitive look.

Eventually, the nine of you reached a place that you certainly recognised. You sat up in the boat, gently calling Aragorn’s name to the boat beside you, before pointing. His eyes lit up as they met the huge stone statues. He tapped Frodo on the shoulder gently.

“The Argonath. Long have I desired the look upon the Kings of old: my kin.” His lips turned up at the sides. You turned around to catch Boromir’s eye, a smile on your face, one which he returned incredulously.

It was not long after that that you reached your destination, a small rocky piece of land that led into a forest, not far north of a waterfall. Legolas docked the boat, hopping out and offering you a hand to help you out which you gladly took with a smile. The two of you turned to help out Gimli, but your eyes wondered as you began to heave the dwarf from your boat. Looking at Boromir, you could easily tell that something was wrong. Despite the sun shining and the elven cloaks, he shivered and closed his eyes, a regrettable look on his face. He hesitated to get out of the boat. You made your way over to him, offering him your hand just as Legolas had done for you a minute before. He looked up at you, flashing a very weak smile before he took your hand. Although he took your hand, he used his own weight to help himself out of the boat, landing in front of you. He seemed pale and gaunt, traits that were unusual to say about him. Casually looking around his frame to catch his eye, you could tell that his face was angled to gaze upon Frodo. A treacherous thought crossed your mind and your heart ached in your chest for a quick moment.

Not knowing how long you were going to be there; Aragorn built a fire with the help of Merry and Pippin. After an hour or so, you were reaching the camp again with Merry, placing down the wood that you had just collected. You scanned the area, your eyes widening in horror. Merry seemed to notice the very same thing that you did, the two of your turning to Aragorn.

“Where’s Frodo?” Merry asked. A wave of horror seemed to wash over the remainder of the members of the Fellowship, save one, for Boromir was not at the camp either.

“Oh, no.”

“What? Y/N, what is it?” Aragorn questioned, coming closer to you, urgent for information.

“Boromir was acting strange when we docked. He was pale. He—He wouldn’t take his eyes from Frodo. I didn’t think anything of it; I thought maybe the boat had made him ill. Forgive me, I—I should have said something.” You sniffled, a few tears pooling in your eyes and Aragorn shook his head, squeezing your hand gently.

“No, you did not know. Everyone split up; we must find them. Save from Y/N, come with me.” Nodding quickly at Aragorn’s words, you plucked your knives from the ground and ran with him.

It was difficult to tell how long you had been running to find them, for the adrenaline had consumed your entire body. You could hear the thudding of your feet on the floor, but you could no longer feel them. The beating of your heart seemed to resonate in your ears and fill your senses, and your breath heaved in your chest.

You stopped for a moment, Aragorn following your lead. Faintly, you heard a thump and a grunt, as if someone had fell. You led Aragorn towards the sound, the two of you coming to a stone structure. You walked around it, his feet seeming to echo as the sole of his boot came into contact with a rock wedged into the ground.

“Frodo?” He called out. The hobbit lay on the floor frantically turned around, his eyes scanning the two of you.

“It has taken Boromir.” Frodo declared, the statement drawing a gasp from your throat, a tear or two streaming down your face.

“Where is the Ring?” Aragorn moved towards the terrified hobbit.

“Stay away!” He yelled, running away from him.

“Frodo.” Aragorn opened his arms in submission. “I swore to protect you.”

“Can you protect me from yourself?” Frodo opened his hand, the Ring sitting on his palm. “Would you destroy it?” Aragorn moved closer to him, kneeling in front of him. You stayed a few steps behind. He closed Frodo’s hand around the Ring, pushing it to his chest.

“I would have gone with you to the end.” You joined Aragorn, kneeling before Frodo, an apologetic look on your face. He looked between the two of you. “Into the very fires of Mordor.”

“I know.” He nodded gently, turning to you. “Look after the others, especially Sam. He will not understand.”

You nodded, a soft smile on your lips. “I promise.” You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. As you pulled back, you looked behind, your eyes widening as the sound of treading feet filled your ears. You looked at Aragorn.

“Go, Frodo.” He unsheathed his sword, and you your knives. Frodo pulled on the hilt of his sword, his eyes growing wider as it glowed blue. “Run, run!”

“Now, Frodo!” You urged, eyes hardening as you turned away from him, walking with Aragorn to meet the fast-approaching, large group of Orcs. He raised his sword. Your knuckles whitened as you firmed your grip on the hilts of your knives. The two of you shared a subtle smirk as they approached.

An Orc swung towards you, but you skilfully dodged before plunging one of your knives into its fleshy side. Another moved towards you before you sliced its throat, driving your free weapon into its chest before kicking it away from you. You saw another making its way towards Aragorn from behind, and so you reached forward to cut its throat and push it into the ground. A sword was swung over a head, but you caught it, countering it before sticking each of your weapons into each of its eyes.

The sound of colliding swords filled your senses as you and Aragorn continued to fight the mass number of Orcs. The leader, whose face was stained with the white hand of Saruman, was grunting in displeasure before he yelled with an angry, gruff voice.

“Find the halfling!” He repeated, almost seeming like a chant, and many of the Orcs fled in the same direction that Frodo had gone, and suddenly your heart filled anxiety. You had scarce noticed Aragorn’s disappearance until he appeared again, jumping from the top of the stone structure into a group of Orcs, shouting ‘Elendil’ as he made contact with him. You let out a small laugh whilst you continued to slay the Orcs coming forth. Aragorn still had not been given the chance to stand, countering attacks while he was lay flat on his back. When you tried to get close to him to allow him to get up, much to your surprise, Legolas and Gimli emerged through the stone.

“Aragorn, go!” Legolas shouted, stabbing an Orc in the face with an arrow before using it to shoot the one behind. Aragorn noticed that you were busy and ran. Gimli hacked at the forthcoming Orcs with his axe, swinging it brutally over his shoulders to slash off limbs and pieces of flesh. You continued to cut and stab expertly through the thick skin of your enemies, eventually making your way towards Aragorn.

A certain Orc took you by complete surprise, swinging with a closed fist which you merely dodged. Overwhelmed by the shock, the delay caused you to barely counter the Orcs attack, pushing the blade of your knife against the ragged blade of the sword. It let out a growl and you a yell, forcing it back with all of your strength. As you blinked, you felt a small rush of wind pass by your face. You looked back to the Orc, an arrow protruding out from its face as it fell lifelessly to the floor. You took a sharp breath, giving Legolas a thankful nod and smile as Aragorn pushed the final body to the floor.

Suddenly from the distance, a horn blew, very familiar. In that moment, your heart sank. A bubbling filled your stomach, an urge coursing through your veins. Aragorn looked at you, as did Gimli and Legolas.

“The Horn of Gondor.” Legolas confirmed and you swallowed thickly, sprinting to the sound with all of your might. Aragorn followed close behind, cutting down the Orcs that managed to pass you. The urge was so strong in overtaking your body, that any Orc you saw filled you with an unexplainable rage. They would be lucky to be killed by Aragorn instead. You slaughtered all that came close to you, your vision turning red when the horn sounded again. With a roar, you lunged and jabbed and thrusted your knives at as many Orcs as you could. Your breath heaved from your chest.

You looked back at the others. “Hurry!” It was impossible to miss the terrified urgency that wrapped itself around your words and suffocated them. Even you heard it. And it was true; you were terrified. Terrified that you would not get to him in time. Terrified that he had called for your help and you would not show. Terrified that after everything he had done for you, that you would not be able to save him. You ran.

You ran over a little hill and your heart stung, as if you had been stabbed right in it with a morgul-blade. There was Boromir on his knees, arrows wedged into his body with the Orc leader standing over him, drawing an arrow that pointing right into his face.

“NO!” You cried with an intense vigour. Tears pooled and poured down your face as you ran toward the Orc, tackling him into the dirt. As you both stood, you used both of your knives to counter his blade. Your eyes were dark though they were streaming with wetness. It rumbled menacingly in your face and you kicked it away from your body, cutting through many pieces of flesh before it threw its shield, winding you. As you caught your breath, it stepped towards you and you yelled, driving your knives deep into its shoulder and thigh. It kicked you to the ground with an annoyed grunt, swinging its sword over its head to crash into the ground beside you, for you rolled out of the way. You crawled through its legs, grabbing it from behind and slitting its throat deeply, slowly. It pushed you back to the floor, once again raising its sword. But as it did so, a blade stuck out through its neck and its head rolled off its shoulders into the dirt. Behind the body was Aragorn, who helped you up quickly. You had no time to thank him before you ran towards Boromir, falling to your knees by his side.

“They took the little ones.” Boromir struggled, his breath getting sharper in his throat.

“Hush, now. Do not move.” You sniffled, your lip quivering at the sight of his paled face and bleeding body.

“Frodo. Where is Frodo?”

“I let Frodo go.” Aragorn admitted, his own voice trembling as it exited his mouth.

“Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him.”

“No, that was not you.” Boromir cupped your face as you spoke. A series of sobs forced their way from your chest. You took his glove from his hand, placing it back against your cheek and placing your hand over the top of his.

“Forgive me. I did not see. I have failed you all.” You shook your head at his words, tears pouring from your eyes like a monsoon, so much so that you could not even speak.

“No, Boromir. You fought bravely. You have kept your honour.” Aragorn moved to remove an arrow from his chest, but Boromir grabbed his hand.

“Leave it! It is over. The world of Men will fall, and all will come to darkness, and my city to ruin.”

“No. No, I’m going to fix you. You’ll be okay, you’ll see. It will be like you said, the tower guard will—will take up the call.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again slightly. He gave you a knowing look and you shook your head, hugging his body, sobbing heavily into his shoulder.

“I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall. Nor our people fail.” Aragorn put his arm around you.

“Our people.” Boromir smiled.

“Our people.” You repeated, sniffling. Boromir stretched out his hand, and you gently placed his sword in it. He held it to his chest for a moment before pushing it to yours.

“I want you to have it, if you would take it. Something to remember me by.”

“How could I ever forget you?” You cupped his cheek, his eyes filling with tears when he looked at you.

“You—You make me so proud - the daughter I never had. Look after her” He turned his gaze to Aragorn. “I would have followed you, my brother. My captain. My King.” He managed a small smile before he let out a breath. His final breath.

Your head shook in disbelief, your eyes filling persistently with tears, your heart aching profusely. Every time you blinked multiple new streams of salt water trickled themselves down your face. You could hear the pat of every tear falling onto the leather of his shirt, pierced by the arrows that were wedged deep into his chest. Aragorn held you as you wailed, your chest heaving up and down as sobs forced themselves from your throat and chest. His arms were strong but comforting. Tears fell from his own eyes as he held you, rocking gently with you in his arms whilst you cried into his shoulder.

Legolas watched from a little while away, his brows turned upwards in sorrow, his own heart hurting at the sight of you. When his eyes fell on Boromir, he swallowed dryly, hardly knowing what to do or say. He decided to stay silent, ears filled with the sounds of your tears and sniffles, paired with Aragorn’s low, reassuring mutters into your ear. Amongst your cries he could hear soft shushing and a sniffle that did not come from your frame.

You had no idea what to do. It was not easy to comprehend that your companion, the man who took up the role to raise you was now gone from the world. Your heart hardly hurt anymore, instead just throbbing with an incredible numbness, emptiness being the only thing to fill the void that you felt in your chest. Cold spread throughout your body as you looked upon his paled face, fiercely bubbling in your stomach in a way that made you feel as though you could spit fire, consumed by rage and sorrow – fighting to the death inside you. But you could not think about that right now. Not with Aragorn cupping your face, firm but gentle, moving you to look at him.

“Look at me. Look at me, Y/N.” You took his instruction. “He died with honour. That is what matters. He is at peace.” You merely managed to nod your head, since a stabbing sensation radiated through it when you moved. A hand on your shoulder. You looked up with a sniffle, to find Gimli kneeling beside the two of you on the ground, his own eyes teary from the scene. You placed one of your hands over his, and he cupped your joined hands in his other, squeezing gently before letting go and rubbing your shoulder. He did not have to say anything.

Aragorn helped you stand, stepping back to allow you to take a breath, before returning to the task at hand. You knew it was more important, and the others knew that you knew that, too. You turned, facing the three that you had been with since Rivendell, ridding your face of all tears with the back of your hand, sniffing.

“I do not want to leave him here; I would very much like to send him down the river if there is time.” You offered, not getting your hopes up as time was growing shorter. It would not be long before the Orcs found nothing on Merry and Pippin’s bodies and discarded of them, the only way they knew how.

“Of course, there is time, mellon nin.” Aragorn reassured.

“Anything you need, lassie.” A small smile grew on Gimli’s face and you returned it as best as you could. Aragorn noticed the conflicted look on Legolas’ face, and asked Gimli to help him move Boromir’s body back to the shore, where you had left the boats. Once the two had moved away from you and Legolas, you looked up at him, not missing the look that was present on his face either.

“Legolas, you need not say—” Your words were interrupted by strong arms scooping you up, pulling you gently against a warm chest. He engulfed you into a hug, your body fitting so perfectly against his own. All you could do was wrap your hands around his built torso, sighing as you pressed your cheek against his chest, matching your breathing with his heartbeat. The two of you stayed there for a while in each other’s arms, an intimate gesture between a pair of friends for comfort and reassurance.

~~~

It had not been long when you and Aragorn pushed the boat containing Boromir’s body down the river. His shield was above his head, his hands laying on his stomach, gripping his sword. In the end, you decided that you would not take it. You did not need anything to remember him by, only the memories that you had shared over the years. Also, the balance was never right for you, a fact that he also knew. There was no way that you would be able to keep a long sword simply as a memento. He knew it as well as you did. If anyone ever found him, you wanted them to know that he died with honour – Captain of the White Tower of Gondor. On his chest, latched to his clothing, was a brooch; a gift that he had given to you one day. You pressed a kiss to his forehead before you grabbed one side of the boat, hauling and pushing it down stream with the help of Aragorn. Your eyes wetted at the sight of the boat nearing the river, but with a side hug from Aragorn, a smile from Gimli and Legolas’ presence, you knew you were going to be okay.

Suddenly, Legolas grabbed a spare boat, rushing it toward the water. “Hurry! Frodo and Sam have reached the Eastern Shore.” He looked back, eyes flickering between you and Aragorn, and then Gimli. Aragorn sighed, before both of you looked over to the Eastern Shore, where you could barely make out the shape of two hobbits beyond the trees and moving further. The four of you shared a knowing look. “You mean not to follow them.”

“Frodo’s fate is no longer in our hands.” Aragorn said plainly. A look crossed Legolas’ face that you could not quite distinguish.

“Then it has all been in vain. The Fellowship has failed.”

“No, Gimli.” You denied, a small smile creeping across your face when Aragorn stood up beside you, reaching over to grasp the shoulders of the dwarf and the elf.

“Not if we hold true to each other.” Gimli placed his hand over the ranger’s arm, nodding slightly. You gave Legolas a smile, squeezing his hand gently. “We will not Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left.” He abruptly turned tail, beginning to walk away into the forest.

“Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let’s hunt some Orc.” As Aragorn continued to stride through the sparse foliage, you, Gimli and Legolas shared a look. A smirk grew on all of your faces, Gimli shouting in approval before running to Aragorn. Legolas took your hand in his with a smile, his bow in the other. You gripped at his hand in response. The two of you ran with each other, joining with the others before you begun to trek what would be a chase that would be counted a marvel among the three kindreds.

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