#hello! i'm back. and sick of staring at this chapter so here it is

[asumofwords]

Watercress - Chapter Four

Warnings: She/her pronouns. Smallfolk OC, mentions of death and war, descriptions of injury and blood, injury of a child, attempt at murder, choking, arguing. Tags will be added as the fic goes along.

Pairings: Aemond x She/Her

Summary: Raised in the Riverlands, near the shadow of Harrenhal, her life was one of endless toil and quiet resilience. Every day was the same—scraping together food, tending to the ill, and surviving the harsh realities of a land marked by struggle. But when war came, it brought horrors beyond anything she could have imagined. The skies blazed with fury, the waters of the Gods Eye churned with the echoes of battle, and then—just as suddenly as it began—the world grew eerily quiet. She believed the worst was over. That was, until a fateful discovery in the woods shattered her fragile peace and set her on a path she never could have foreseen.

Word Count: 7.2k oops....I'm so sorry....

Notes: Hello my angels, apologies for such a slow release on this one, I was so incredibly sick that I was bedridden for a week! I wrote this in my delirium and also on my journeys to work, so I hope you enjoy!! <3

“What have you done?” 

She startled, it had been so peaceful in the cottage that she had forgotten about the silver haired man’s existence in her bed.

The needle and thread she worked with this time was different to the one she used on injuries. Instead of pulling together a wound, she pulled together the seams of white linen and leather. 

It had occurred to her earlier on that she should probably get him clothed, but he had been so acidic, so scathing in her attempts to help him that she thought that keeping him vulnerable in her bed would humble him. 

It hadn’t. 

From the seat by the fire she glanced her eyes over to Aemond, who sat rod straight in her bed, long fingers grasping at his silver locks.

Ah.

“What. Have. You. Done.” He spat louder this time, the silk tresses falling between his fingers as his eye locked onto hers. His pale cheeks flushed in anger, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Saved your life.” Came her deadpan response, looking back down to his leather riding jacket. She was suddenly thankful for the way in which she had cut it off of him; it made it easier for her to go through the original holes of the leather with her needle rather than having to pierce new ones.

“You were fevered,” The healer said simply, without remorse, “Your hair was tangled, matted with blood. I had to—”

Aemond moved. Staggered from the bed, a wash of grey taking over his skin where there had just been colour. It had surprised her so thoroughly that she stared at him before jumping into action, body in autopilot. She stood to come to him, to get him to sit back down.

But then he surprised her again.

This was a man she had watched lay in her bed for weeks, too weak to stand, too weak to hold himself, but here he was, standing from the bed, furs tangled beneath his feet. He swayed, yes, and she could tell that his adrenaline was taking over, but underneath all of that, it was sheer will. 

Sheer spite. 

She worried that he would fall as she went to his side, that he would burst more stitches, un-align his leg, puncture his lungs. She was so preoccupied with worrying over his condition and potential to worsen it that she hadn’t thought for one second the sudden danger he imposed over her. She was by his side in a second.

And then he moved again. 

Too fast, too hard, ignoring the pull of his wounds, ignoring the agony screaming through his body.

His fingers found her throat and she froze.

She blinked as he gripped her, forcing her gaze to his. His hand trembled—not with weakness, but with the sheer force of his rage, and she felt the weight of him against her neck, as if he was using her to keep himself standing. 

All with the grip he had on her neck.

Her eyes looked onto his lone one, not daring to flick over to the empty socket on the other side. The violet eye she had grew accustomed to narrowing at her, flashing with anger, was now almost entirely black, his pupil having swallowed up all remaining evidence of humanity, leaving only the barest hint of a ring. 

“You had to?” He hissed, his voice low, deadly, “You had to strip me like a common dog?”

Her chin lifted, and though her pulse thudded beneath his fingers, her voice was even, “You would rather have rotted in your own filth?”

His grip tightened.

“Yes,” He snarled, the word cutting like a blade, “Better that than,” His voice dipped lower, the shadow of the firelight darkening his sharpened features further, “this.”

He was ruined.

Defiled.

Like a man shorn for punishment, like some domesticated drunk.

Like Aegon.

The realisation struck him like a blow, like a fresh wound split open, deep and raw. His lips curled, sickened.

“You’ve made me look like him,” He spat, his voice dripping with venom, “Like that wretched, slovenly oaf.”

A humourless laugh, sharp and bitter, scraped from his throat.

“Tell me,” He sneered, eye flashing with cruel mirth, “Shall I take to drinking next? Stumbling through brothels, pissing myself in the streets?” His lips twisted cruelly and she felt a pang of pity for him in that moment, “Is that what you’ve made of me? Turned me into a common, useless drunkard?”

“Only you have the power to do that. Though from what I’ve heard, your blood runs thick with it.”

Aemond’s grip flexed, his fingers twitching with the urge to hurt, to punish. She tried to inhale deeply, but he only allowed her the barest slither of air. And that was when she realised he would not kill her in that moment, not that she wouldn’t have fought him. He merely wanted an audience.

She liked her odds regardless; another hit to his ribs, a kick to his leg and she knew that she would be freed. But there was something new about this rage, something different. 

It was shame. 

“You’ve taken my hair,” He said, his voice like steel drawn slow from a sheath, “Defiled my birthright.” His breathing came heavy, ragged with fury, “And you expect me to thank you?”

You have no birthright, she thought, not anymore.

His fingers flexed against her throat, his other hand fisted at his side. She saw this as a good sign; if he truly wished to kill her, surely he would have had two hands at her throat. She tried to swallow, feeling her throat bob beneath his hand, to which he only tightened it further. Her head spun.

Opening her mouth she breathed raggedly, “I expect you to live.”

The words were plain. Cool.

Always so cold.

So detached.

And he hated it.

Where was her anger? Where was her fear? 

Where was his respect?

He had seen the fear briefly, flickering through her eyes as she had watched him stand. But it wasn’t fear of him, not at that moment it hadn’t been, it was fear of what he would do to himself. Fear that he would injure himself further. 

He hated it.

Hated that she cared.

But there was fear, the moment his hand had wrapped around her throat and squeezed her, he had seen her eyes flash with surprise, and then fear, but now, now she seemed so sure that he would not harm her. So sure that he would not lift his other hand and squeeze the life from her in the cottage where she gave so much life. 

She gave.

And he would take away.

Aemond exhaled sharply, a dangerous sound.

“It will grow back.” She said, unshaken, her eyes looking over his head, looking to the shoulder length hair he now had, small waves dancing behind his ears. 

It was pretty, his hair, especially now with the way the light caught it. It was so pale, so unlike anything she had ever seen before that it seemed to absorb light itself. 

“No,” He whispered, voice laced with something dark and bitter, “It won’t.”

Not in the way that mattered.

Not in the way that it mattered to him.

She didn't understand. How could she?

Aemond Targaryen was reduced.

“I had no choice.” She spoke again, and he felt her throat bob beneath his palm, and for a second he had to fight the excitement that coursed through him. 

She was under his control now.

He could control her. 

But there was something more. He looked down his long nose at her, and watched how she continued to look at his hair. How she continued to look at what she had done to him.

She was watching him with something more than cool observance.

“You are still a Targaryen.” She said with confidence, and his fingers twitched against the soft expanse of her neck, “There is no denying that.”

Aemond was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling in sharp, ragged motions. The pain clawed at his ribs, at his leg, at the raw stitches she had only just put back together. His fury had made him reckless. And now his strength waned.

She watched as his grip flexed, as though torn between crushing her throat and throwing her away from him entirely. His fingers twitched, then fell away, his strength faltering. And she watched as his eye darted down to her lips momentarily, the angry look on his face faltering as the pink of his tongue wet his lips.

It was fleeting.

He swayed.

The healer remained still, waiting. She knew better than to reach for him now. Knew that his pride would not suffer her hands upon him, not after she had already stripped him of so much.

Aemond let out a sharp breath, stumbling back a half step, the pain flashing across his face even as he tried to smother it. His fingers curled into fists, trembling with the effort to hold himself upright.

She cast her gaze downwards, ignoring the way that his member had seemed to swell slightly, and kept her eyes evenly on the wound that had healed somewhat on his chest and hip. Blood had welled to the surface and had begun to slowly leak from the wound staining the dressings.

“You’re bleeding again.”

She wished he would just lay down and stay quiet. Perhaps she could dose his food with milk of the poppy to keep him lucid.

His eye flicked to his side, where the fresh stitches had already begun to seep red into the bandages.

He swayed again.

Her voice was soft, placating, “Get back in bed.”

Aemond let out a breath, half a scoff, half a curse, “I’ll stand.”

“You’ll fall.”

His eye snapped back to her, gleaming with ire. But the truth of it was undeniable.

And then—his body betrayed him.

His balance tipped, his muscles clenched, and in the next moment, his knees buckled beneath him. She moved faster than he could stop her, stepping forward as he collapsed into her grasp, hands beneath his arms. 

Agony shot through his ribs. 

He let out a snarl, the sound vibrating in his chest as her hands pressed against him, steadying his weight.

“Don’t.” The Prince hissed, but his voice wavered, his body too weak to make good on the threat.

She ignored him, adjusting her hold with practiced ease, bracing her shoulder beneath his, “This is your own doing.” She muttered, bearing his weight as she guided him back toward the bed.

His muscles stiffened against her, “I won’t—”

“You will.” He tensed harder, and so she corrected herself “Or you will fall.” 

Her voice was soft this time. Softer than he had ever heard her. And it almost startled him. Since when did she have the capacity for meekness? To be quiet and polite? When had she ever shown that she could be more than cold or biting to him?

It was worse he realised, hearing her. This new her he had never seen before.

It was warmth. 

He seethed. 

She could feel his anger rolling off of him, sharp and smouldering, could hear the grinding of his teeth as she manoeuvred him step by step.

But he had no choice.

The healer felt the moment his body truly gave up—when his rage could no longer hold him upright, when his limbs sagged, when his grip on his own pride slipped and his own hands moved to her upper arms, clutching her tighter than he had ever clutched her throat.

She knew then that he would likely never actually harm her.

His breathing turned shallow, his weight heavier, and by the time she lowered him onto the furs, he had no more fight left to give.

She stepped back.

Aemond was still, his eye burning into the ceiling, jaw clenched so tightly she thought he might shatter his teeth.

A long silence stretched between them.

Then—his fingers lifted to the uneven edges of his hair, his nails scraping against the jagged strands.

The healer sighed, she was tired of his moods, “It will grow back.”

His eye snapped to her, cold and cutting, “You ruined me.”

She huffed out a humourless laugh, crossing her arms, “You men and your vanity. You’re worse than a young maiden.”

Aemond’s lips curled, “You do not understand.”

“No,” She agreed easily, moving to the table where her supplies were laid out, “I don’t.” She turned, looking at him over her shoulder, “But if I had left you to rot with the filthy state your hair was in you would have gotten an infection, and you wouldn't be here to worry about your appearance.”

Aemond exhaled sharply, his fingers curling into the furs.

She knew he was seething, drowning in his own shame, his own fury. But she had no patience for it.

Not now.

She dipped a cloth into warm water, wrung it out, and turned back toward him. “You can either sulk like a child,” She said, her tone firm, “Or you can rest, recover, and learn to walk again without having to lean on me.” She wiped gently at his stomach, throwing a fur over his length so it wasn’t in eye shot, “You will either learn to live with your leg as you did your eye, or you will learn to live as a cripple. It’s your choice.”

Aemond’s eye burned into her, sharp as a blade’s edge. He was still seething, his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths, as if he were keeping his fury caged only by force of will.

"Always so bold," His voice low and venomous, "You’ve defiled me.”

She scoffed, pressing the damp cloth against the sweat-slick skin of his brow. He flinched but lacked the strength to swat her away before she moved to the dressings.

“I saved your life.” She hummed amused.

“You humiliated me.” His lip curled, disgust and something deeper—something darker—twisting his features, "I should have woken with a blade to my throat, not a butcher’s hands in my hair."

She hummed, unimpressed, "You shouldn’t have woken at all. I should have let the fever take you. Or left you for the wolves and snow. The Gods have given you another chance, and yet, here you lay," She wrung the cloth out again, her expression unshaken, "Sulking."

Aemond’s jaw ticked, his fingers curling into the sheets, "You think I will forgive this?" His voice was silk-thin, fraying at the edges, "That I will forget what you say to me just because you tend to me?"

"No," She said simply, meeting his eye without flinching, "I think you will heal. And if I have to chain you to that bed to make sure of it, I will."

His breath hitched, his nostrils flaring, but his body betrayed him—always betrayed him-- exhaustion dragging at his limbs, pain licking up his spine. He could do nothing but glare, his pride bleeding out between them like an open wound.

"You made me look like him," He spat suddenly, the words ragged, raw, "Like a common drunk. Like my pathetic, soft-bellied brother."

She tilted her head, gaze flicking over him, unbothered, "It becomes you."

Aemond snarled, but the sound was weaker now. His body was failing him, the anger taking too much from him when he had so little left to give.

She exhaled slowly, shaking her head. "Rest, my Prince. If you ever hope to kill me as you promise you must rest."

Aemond turned his face away from her, but not before she caught the flicker of something in his eye—not just fury, not just loathing.

Something like defeat.

-

The usual silence of her cottage had been shattered often and violently since the man’s arrival. The air was thick with animosity, each interaction a silent war waged in glances, in barbed words, in the heavy quiet that stretched between them. She wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t used to having her patience tested so often, or being pushed so completely to the edge.

She could feel it now—the irritation, raw and insistent, scraping at her nerves, burrowing deep, wearing her thin. It was beginning to crack her resolve, piece by piece.

Her sleep had suffered. The floor had become a constant ache in her bones, no matter how much straw or fur she gathered to soften it. She had tried, at first, to offer some measure of comfort. But comfort was a foreign word now, an elusive thing she would have gladly traded for a moment’s peace.

What she would’ve given for her own bed. What she would’ve given for a guest who did not make her wish for solitude.

Whenever she moved about the cottage, she felt his eye follow her—heavy, burning, unrelenting. She had tried to ignore it, tried to lose herself in her work, but he was a shadow, always there, lurking. Watching. The only reprieve was when others came seeking her healing hands, or when she ventured out for supplies, just to breathe something other than him.

But even then, he was waiting.

For her.

At first, she had tried to answer his sharp-edged questions, had tried to dull their bite with reason. But it became clear; he wasn’t asking for answers. He was asking to provoke. To fill the silence that stretched between them like a battlefield left abandoned.

And in a way it was. To him anyway.

Every day, she tended to him—bandaging wounds, feeding him, bathing him when he could not manage. Though he would never admit it, she saw how his pride rebelled against even the smallest mercy. His body may have been broken, but his stubbornness was unyielding. He refused kindness, even when he was burning with pain. 

There was something more fragile about that than any wound.

And because of this, her patience had worn thin. She no longer bothered to hide her irritation, no longer masked her words in civility. But beneath the frustration, there was something else—something she could not quite name.

Curiosity, perhaps.

What lay beneath all that anger? The sharp words, the bitter arrogance—what was he running from? What had broken him before she ever laid a hand on him? Before he had ever fell from his dragon?

She could not afford to wonder for too long. Because they both knew neither could hold out much longer. The pressure was suffocating, thick as smoke and filled her small cottage, throats clogged with it.

But where she found quiet in the silence, Aemond found madness.

The stillness there was unbearable. It pressed in on him, vice-like, suffocating.

Aemond had known noise. The thunder of battle, the screams of men, the roar of his dragon’s wings. He had known chaos all his life training with the blade, flying, escaping his brother. But here, in this gods-forsaken place, there was nothing. No war to fight. No enemy to strike down.

The world had moved on without him, and the quiet of it stung worse than any blade.

And she—she was a constant reminder of everything he had lost.

Her voice, blunt and emotionless, cut deeper than steel. She spoke of his failures with no pity, told him of his cause’s collapse, of his brother’s death, of the loss of his dragon. But it wasn’t the words that hurt most. It was the silence in between. The absence of anything else. No loyalty, no affection, not even hatred.

She did not see him as a Prince. She did not even see him as a threat.

She made him feel like nothing.

And for that, he hated her.

The firelight flickered against her face as she worked, grinding herbs with steady, practiced ease. The sound of mortar scraping stone gnawed at his nerves, over and over and over again. Always the same.

Never ending.

His body ached—not just from his injuries, but from the weight of it all. The stillness. The powerlessness. The sitting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

She was small. Insignificant.

And yet she carried herself like one who had never known fear. Or perhaps, she had known too much of it.

He hated it. 

The silence. 

He couldn’t bear it. 

His fingers curled into the furs beneath him, his voice low, dangerous.

“You are enjoying this.”

She didn’t look up, “Enjoying what?”

“Watching me rot in this hovel while you play at being a saviour.” His words dripped with venom, “Don’t pretend it doesn’t please you.”

She sighed, an exhale of quiet boredom, “Ah, this again. You give yourself too much importance.”

Her calm made his blood boil.

“You should pray I never leave this bed, healer.” He warned, voice thick with fury.

She did not so much as flinch. She only ground the pestle harder into the bowl, that same grating sound, “I find our silence preferable,” not dignifying his threat with a response, “You’re far less irritating when you’re not speaking.”

His jaw tightened.

“You forget yourself.” 

She let out a slow breath, as if barely restraining a yawn, “Do I?”

His breath came sharper, his rage coiling tight in his chest. Heat flooded him.

“You are nothing,” He spat, “A peasant. A nameless healer with no purpose beyond mixing herbs in this shack. Likely born of a whore and a drunk. And yet, you dare speak to me this way?”

She did not look at him. She kept grinding the pestle. The same grounding grating noise over and over.

She was grinding his resolve.

Crushing it into dust beneath her practised hands.

“Mmm,” She hummed, inspecting the herbs with feigned interest, “That may be true. But there are other truths.” She paused, then added, voice mild, “You are crippled. Like your brother before you. And your father.”

Aemond’s vision darkened with rage.

“I should kill you.”

At that, she finally looked at him. And then—she smiled.

It was not mockery. It was not fear. It was small, knowing—almost as if she had already decided something.

“Then so be it.”

Before he could speak, she moved. Across the room, to where his belongings lay abandoned. His tunic, still bloodied but sewn together. His boots, streaked with dried mud. And his sword—untouched since she had dragged him here half-dead.

She picked it up without hesitation. It was too large for her frame, but she carried it with ease. Almost too easily. 

What Aemond did not know, was that it took great effort for her to hold herself steady, but she did it out of spite.

They were both full of so much spite that she felt it almost suffocating her. This anger. This hatred. The rage. All of it. She felt it from him. She felt it within. It was drowning her.

She was drowning. 

She turned back and held the hilt out toward him.

“Take it, Prince. Since the first attempt did not go as you planned.”

Aemond inhaled sharply, eye longingly looking at a blade he had spent so much time with. So many hours in the training yard holding it. Always attached to his side.

He longed to touch it again.

“You mock me.”

The healer shook her head softly, “I only give you what you ask for.”

His fury burned hot and bright. He wanted to stand, wanted to wrap his hands around her throat, wanted to demand her respect.

She stepped back. Not offering it—challenging him.

“If you can stand without my help,” She said, smile still on her lips, “Then you may have your sword.”

Incensed, Aemond shifted, furs sliding from his shoulders. He forced himself up, every muscle screaming in protest. His skin paled, his chest rising and falling in short, sharp pants. But still, he stood.

He stood, Gods be damned.

Her eyes swept over him, not with the detached calculation of a healer—but something else. If he were not so insufferable, she might have blushed.

But he swayed. His leg trembled. His ribs protested, agony slicing through him like a hot blade. But he persisted.

Aemond reached for the sword.

The moment his fingers curled around the hilt, she let it go. In that moment, that moment that was so brief, he felt the first wave of calm wash over him in weeks. He felt the first piece of strength, of pride, slide back into place.

This was what he was made for. This was what he was capable of. But that moment was all too fleeting as her hand dropped away.

The weight of the unsupported blade yanked his arm down—too heavy, too much too soon, the pain in his ribs exploding through his chest, but his stubbornness won out. He did not let go of the blade to save himself the pain, instead his hand tightened to it, and with that came the fall. His body twisted with it, his wounded leg giving way beneath the weight of him.

She watched as he fell, didn’t move to stop him. Didn’t move to catch him as she had the last time. Just watched as he toppled, blade still clutched so tightly in his hand she thought it might break.

She had warned him he would.

Had told him he would.

Aemond Targaryen crashed to the floor.

The pain was indescribable. Black spots bloomed before his vision, his face scrunched tightly in agony as he wheezed an agonised breath. He couldn’t breathe. It felt as though his lungs seized within his ribs. As though if he even tried to suck in a breath, it would be useless.

What had the healer said about punctured lungs? Was this what it felt like?

The moment stretched unbearably, silence thick with his humiliation.

And yet she did not move to help him. She only stood over him, watching. Watching as his face grew more and more paled and ashen. Watched as he struggled to suck in pained breaths, his hand still clutched to the sword as the other clutched his middle. 

A shadow passed over him, the firelight momentarily being blocked.

And then—soft, calm, almost amused,

“Tell me, kinslayer,” She murmured, his eye blinking rapidly open to see her. There was a soft halo of light around her head, warming her features. She was pretty. So very pretty and yet she did nothing to show it. She did not dress pretty, only comfortably and smartly, nor she did not make effort to style her hair or wear jewels. She was plain. Unassuming. But in that moment, all he could focus on was how pretty she looked, just as pretty as a blade, and just as sharp as one too, “What use is a dragon without its fire?”

There came the final blow. And the warm light around her head suddenly looked like the seven hells. 

Like damnation.

Like-

A knock sounded at the door.

The moment was over.

And Aemond watched as her face moved away from his. He felt the absence of her then. The absence of her warmth. Of her fire. She rose without hesitation, stepping over his fallen form as if he were nothing more than a piece of furniture in her way.

From the floor, Aemond saw her open the door, revealing a thin man wrapped in a heavy cloak, his face lined with age and worry. A child clung to his side, perhaps six, perhaps younger, he cannot remember what Jaehaerys or Jaehaera had looked like when young. How old had they been? Lucerys had been five or six when he had taken his eye, so small yet so deadly. Tiny really. He blinked, the girls arm was cradled against her chest, her face pale and tear-streaked.

He could not hear their hushed words, but he saw the way the healer’s expression softened just slightly, how she nodded once before stepping outside.

“Not in here” She told the father,  “A man has the Shivers.”

That was all she offered, and the eagerness to enter her home vanished from the fathers face. He stepped back, his retreat swift, his gaze never even flickering toward Aemond’s crumpled form on the floor, as if viewing him would be contagious. 

Aemond had caught a glimpse of the child’s arm—swollen, bruised, likely broken. The healer moved quickly, guiding them further from the cottage. Her steps were careful, practiced. 

Gentle.

She was a paradox.

How could she be so gentle yet so unyielding? So sharp yet so tender?

If it weren’t for the pain making his head already spin, it would be now. Just one moment ago she was crouched in front of him, mocking his ability to stand, to hold a blade, and now she was as soft as the silks his sister used to wear. As soft as how Helaena had been with her own children. As soft as his mothers hair. Yet these people weren’t anyone that the healer knew. They were strangers. And yet she was so soft to them.

Aemond yearned in that moment to know her kindness for once. Not her ire.

He wanted her softness.

Outside, her voice was a soft hum, soothing, steady. The father’s murmured reassurances wove through it, the girl’s sniffles growing less panicked, less frequent. And then, to Aemond’s surprise, a small laugh. 

Even in her pain, she had managed to make the girl laugh. How she had done this, Aemond did not know.

He felt she really might be a witch.

Was she bewitching him?

No.

He hated her.

His fingers curled into fists, his body still half-curled on the floor. He tried to push himself up, but the pain in his ribs was sharp, so sharp it darkened the edges of his vision again and he slumped back to the cold and hard ground. His limbs felt foreign, his breath ragged, the wood of his splint dragging painfully against the floor as he tried and failed to get his leg beneath him and comfortable. But he couldn’t.

He was stuck.

He was pathetic.

Useless.

He had watched her work for the gods only knew how long. Watched the way she moved, how the father and young girl looked at her. As if she were something holy.

She was not.

She was nothing.

Nothing.

Rage twisted in his gut like a coiled viper.

Through the gap in the door, he watched—spiteful, seething—as flickers of movement passed through the firelight, watching as she tended to the child, as the father hovered behind them watching with nervous eyes. 

Always watching.

When at last she returned fully into view, the child’s arm was bound, and the father’s relief was evident as he lifted his daughter and pressed a kiss to her forehead, hand holding the injured arm inspecting it. 

Aemond wished he could see the healers face. See how she looked at the two people at her door. Would she be smiling softly at them both? At the girl? Or staring indifferently the way she looked at him. 

Gods the way she looked at him.

Indifferently.

And then sometimes not.

Like he disappointed her.

As if she knew he could be better.

His mother didn’t look at him like that anymore. 

Wouldn’t ever look at him again.

He could be better.

He could-

The father spoke to her, and Aemond strained to hear it, trying to shift on the floor to angle himself better to hear what is being said, but he couldn’t move. Every time he tried to shift himself he felt ill. He hadn’t felt so helpless since he lost his eye, and that made his heart race in his chest all the more.

Small. Innocent. And yet half blinded. 

His half sister, estranged yes, but calling for his punishment after her bastard had attacked him. Blinded him.

Her face, his own blood, calling for his punishment.

His punishment was coming.

It was always coming.

Always coming for him.

He groaned softly as he tried to move, panic winding up his throat, and was surprised to see the healers face turn to him. To check on him. To see if he was okay. And that small piece of care, small piece of worry made his heart slow, and the panic he felt lessen. 

She wouldn’t punish him.

She couldn’t.

She-

At the movement, the father reached into his cloak, the sound of coin in palm loud amongst the quiet. He placed the coins into the healer’s hand but to Aemond’s surprise she tried to take her hand back. She shook her head. Refused. Refused payment for her skill, for her time, for her help. It made Aemond furious. But the man insisted, and to Aemond’s disgust, she accepted only half of what was offered.

Half.

The father nodded his thanks before ushering his daughter back into the cold. And Aemond watched as the healer came back inside, dropping the coin carelessly into the front pocket of her gown.

The door shut. 

Silence fell.

She was back.

She came back for him.

She-

-turned back to the table, washing her hands with methodical ease in a wooden bucket. As if nothing had happened. As if Aemond were not still sprawled on the floor, humiliated. In pain.

Waiting.

She did not look at him.

She did not even glance at him.

It struck something inside of him.

How she would see him.

How she would not look at him.

He already knew what he would see.

Her voice, when it came, was soft, “Let me know when you wish to try again.”

All indignation on her behalf died.

All curiosity was burnt to ash.

Aemond wanted to kill her.

But it was more than that, Gods help him. He had never wanted to survive more.

—

After that night, Aemond had expected fear. Deference. Even hatred.

Instead, she simply… existed. Moving through the cottage as if he were nothing more than another broken thing to mend.

She never bowed. Never used his title. Never even flinched when he threatened her life. She had walked over to him, snatched the sword from his hand and leant it against the fire where it had been prior before helping him back onto the bed and tucking him in the furs. 

Each morning, she left without a word, disappearing into the woods for what felt like hours. And when she returned, her basket would be filled to the brim with herbs and roots—sometimes even rabbits or birds caught in her traps, and fish. 

Always fish.

He hated fish now.

Aemond watched her, seething at his own uselessness as she skinned the catches with quiet precision, prepared broth with effortless ease. And on occasion forgot herself as she moved to feed him. 

He resented her for it. For the way she cared for him despite everything he had said, everything he had done. He had tried to kill her. She had brought his sword to him as what he could only assume was a test, and he had grabbed it and tried anyway. 

And yet still, she tended to him.

She did not punish him.

Her willingness to forget the sword unnerved him. Set him on edge. It made him feel as though something was coming. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

That perhaps she was waiting for something. Waiting for him to grow complacent, to let his guard down, and then she would strike. Then she would attack him the way he had tried to do to her.

Four days had passed since the sword incident when she ventured into the woods again. She had set traps earlier in the week—though it was not out of necessity for food that she went. She simply could not bear the thought of an animal left suffering for days.

The healer was no stranger to pain. She had seen it, felt it. But she had always sought to prevent it where she could. Especially for those smaller and more helpless than herself.

The rabbit had struggled when she found it, panic in its small, shuddering frame. A swift cut of her knife ended its suffering.

The second trap was empty. The third, too. She reset them, then turned back toward the cottage.

The moment she stepped inside, she felt it.

His gaze.

He was sitting up, leaning against the wall, watching her.

She hated when he watched her.

It unnerved her.

He unnerved her.

She felt like prey in her own home. A creature being stalked, studied. Her every movement, her every reaction watched. Observed. She knew that as he healed, his threats would become more than words. He would regain his strength. And then, one day, she would no longer be safe.

Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps he would kill her.

A smarter woman would have turned him over to a nearby Lord. Let them deal with him. But the thought of sending a man wounded and half-broken to certain death made her stomach turn. It was not who she was.

She was a healer. And what kind of healer would she be if she knowingly condemned a man to die? 

Even him.

Even after his cruelty.

When she told him that evening as the sun had set low in the sky that he needed to stand, he had thought she was mocking him. Thought that she wished to see him flail, humiliated. Stand above him as he no doubt fell once again to the floor.

He had refused, spat his usual vitriol at her, cheeks reddened. Life flowing through him.

But then she had ripped the furs away and his eye had widened. Was this it? The moment he had been waiting for? Perhaps she would cast him into the cold outside instead. But she hadn’t, and only moved to to hold his arms as she softly pulled him to the edge of the bed. 

It wasn’t without pain, despite her gentle hands.

Nothing was ever without pain.

His lashing out was never without pain.

Pain to his pride.

Pain to his solitude.

Pain to her.

It was over quickly.

He had stood, and she had helped him, telling him to not put weight on his broken leg, had pulled an arm over her shoulders despite her being shorter than him, and held the brunt of his weight. He had barely lasted before pain overwhelmed him, the edges of his vision fraying. But she had not laughed at him. She had held him aloft until he could stand no longer.

She had murmured quiet words of encouragement as she helped him to sit back down to lay. Had told him that the more he stands the easier it would get. That the more he did it, the sooner he would heal.

She had been as patient as the day he met her.

And Aemond had sneered. Because her care for him made his head spin.

It made him feel out of control.

And yet, the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to know. She seemed to know much about him. Yet he knew nothing of her.

Even now, as she sat at the table, preparing another stew, frustration burned through him like an open wound. The cottage was too small. The silence too thick. He was caged, restless, filled with something dangerously close to loathing.

He felt like a caged animal, cornered and alone. Nowhere to go. He bared his teeth. Snapped his jaw. Bit. Clawed. Tore. And yet still, she persisted.

The hand that cornered him persisted. And he bit the hand that fed him viciously and repeatedly without repent.

The words left him, sharp as a blade.

“Is this all your life is?” Aemond sneered, and for once he immediately regretted it. The peaceful look on her face was gone, and the cold wall he had grown accustomed to slid into place, “Tending to the weak, the sick, and the worthless?”

His words stung himself.

She did not look up. 

Her voice was flat, unimpressed as she cut through vegetables at the table, “I prefer it to pretending I’m something I’m not.”

Aemond’s teeth clenched. The insult was clear.

"You think you’re better than me?" He spat, he couldn't stop himself, it was like watching himself from the ceiling, "A peasant who hides behind a façade of kindness?"

She exhaled softly—whether in amusement or exasperation, he could not tell.

"Better than a Prince who has nothing left but his pride."

The words struck deeper than they should have.

His fists curled. 

He was still Aemond Targaryen. Still the blood of House Targaryen.

But the worst part?

She wasn’t entirely wrong.

His voice dropped, low and edged with warning, "You think your kindness will change anything? It’s weak. It’s meaningless. You have nothing."

Finally, she met his gaze. Her eyes were cool, unwavering. The wall of ice thick between the both of them.

"It’s more than you’ll ever have."

Aemond inhaled sharply. He wanted to wound her. To find the crack in her armour and cut just as deep. But he knew nothing of her.

Not her age, though he could guess they were roughly the same. 

Not her life. 

Nothing. 

She turned from him, already moving to add the vegetables she had cooked to the pot. Food she would feed to him later.

And Aemond, for the first time, had no choice but to sit in the silence she left behind.

Aemond hated her.

He hated the way she moved through the cottage, unbothered by his presence, as if he were nothing more than another broken thing to mend. Hated the way she never flinched at his words, never cowered when he spat threats like venom. Hated that she did not treat him as a Prince, did not bow her head, did not offer the reverence he was owed by birthright.

She was insufferable. A ghost drifting through the dim light of the fire, tending to her work with quiet hands and steady patience. Always watching him—not with fear, not with admiration, but with that infuriating, unreadable gaze. As if she were waiting. Waiting for him to prove her wrong. As if she knew something he did not. 

It made his skin crawl.

And yet—

His jaw clenched as his eye tracked the subtle grace in her movements, the surety of her fingers as they sliced carrots into chunks, the way the dim candlelight flickered against the smooth curve of her cheek. She never hurried. Never faltered. There was something assured about her, something unshaken. He had seen knights on the battlefield waver more than she did in the face of his anger.

He despised that about her.

But he couldn’t deny there was something compelling about her certainty. The way she met his gaze, unwavering, unafraid. The way she never raised her voice, never allowed his rage to provoke her, as if she had already decided he was not worth the effort. It burned him from the inside out, that quiet dismissal.

And her hands—gods, her hands. He had felt them, too many times now. Pressing against his ribs, cool against his fevered skin, smearing salve over the bruises that littered his body. They were careful, practiced, but firm. They did not hesitate. Even when he had sneered at her, insulted her, she had continued without pause.

The scent of her still clung to him, faint but unmistakable—herbs and something softer beneath, something warm, something that made his pulse press against his throat too tightly.

Aemond’s fingers curled into fists.

He was being ridiculous.

She was nothing. 

She was nothing.

She was a wretched peasant, a woman who knew nothing of war, of power, of the weight of a name like his. She was insignificant, a speck of dust in the grander scheme of things. And yet, here he was, watching her as if she held the answers to questions he refused to ask.

His stomach twisted, a sharp coil of frustration.

He hated her. He loathed her.

And what was worse—what was far worse—was that even now, beneath all that hate, there was something else.

Something he did not have a name for.

Something he would rather burn than acknowledge.

Aemond exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing his gaze away.

Yes. He hated her.

And that was all there was to it.

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[makeyoumine69]

Lost Memory (Memory Reboot x4)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader x Timothy Bryce

SUMMARY: Two lost souls, both broken and neglected, knowing they were never meant to be, found solace in each other just for one night.

CONTAINS: SMUT, angst, depression, obsessive thoughts, mentions of death, canon violence, tainted love, blow jobs, face-sitting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names, sensual foreplay, rimming, intoxication, praise kink.

WORDS: 4.5k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Lost Memory

A/N: Hello everyone, the new chapter is finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

Cool New York night air enveloped your shivering frame the moment you walked outside, leaving the noisy wedding party behind the walls of the luxurious Ziegfeld Ballroom. Slowly breathing in the fresh air, you closed your eyes and threw your head back a little to come back to your senses—you were literally broken to pieces, to say the least—your heart was pounding painfully in your chest and at some point you wished it would stop beating, thinking that it would end everything and finally set you free from all this pain and suffering. 

Hugging yourself, you took a few weak strides towards the street where cars were speeding by. Just one step, and tomorrow all the newspapers would report that there had been an accident in Manhattan right next to the Ziegfeld Ballroom where the pompous wedding of our Wall Street golden boy was taking place. You laughed to yourself at all this nonsense, how did you ever get into such a situation? Being completely sober, the realization of what you were thinking hit you even harder than if you were drunk or high, but now you were completely lucid, able to feel every twinge of pain.

Bewildered, you watched the yellow cars go by, sometimes you could see the impassive faces of the passengers inside. All this reminded you of a movie whose name you could never really remember. But it was definitely not a comedy or a drama. Maybe it was a documentary about someone's life... a tragic life?

With a sad sigh, you were about to sit down on the curb when you heard loud footsteps behind you and turned around to see a familiar silhouette approaching.

"Bateman?" You asked, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

The man didn't answer, as if he hadn't noticed you at all, casually pulling a cigar out of the pocket of his Prada coat that he wore over his wedding tuxedo, and for a second you thought it was just an illusion your sick mind managed to maintain to keep your psyche from collapsing.

After lighting his cigar, Patrick made a long drag before finally giving you an agonizing stare. "Just wanted to have some fresh air..." he paused, his white teeth clenching around the cigar, making his jawline look so sharp that even in the dark you could see it. "Plus, Evelyn didn't want me to smoke inside. We just got married and she's already making scenes."

You wanted to say something, but stopped at the last moment—his hazel eyes suddenly took your breath away—leaving you completely speechless.

"And you," Bateman continued as he came closer, his elegant figure looking so seductive in the dim light. "I can't believe you left all your business in Chicago just to come here and get squashed like a fucking cockroach!"

"What? What are you talking about?" You asked in a shaky tone, your temples pulsating with a strange tension that made you want to massage them. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Patrick grinned wickedly as he leveled himself with you, the difference in height only adding to the menace of his appearance. "Tell me one thing, (y/n)," he whispered above your cheek, keeping the mere distance between the two of you. "Did you really think I'd dream of you coming back to me?"

You closed your eyes involuntarily, every word he said bringing the most inhuman pain you had ever felt. "S-stop," you replied, stepping back. "Shut... shut your damn mouth!"

"Ohhh," he cooed at you in a mocking way, which drove you crazy, but then he blew some smoke right in your face, which made you want to punch him in the chest. "You just have to accept that you lost," Bateman suddenly grabbed the collar of your coat to pull you closer. "Just accept that you fell in love with a man who doesn't give a fuck about you."

On the verge of tears, you didn't even struggle as the ground beneath your feet suddenly began to disappear. "I... I will not give you the satisfaction of hating you... you f-fucking bastard!"

Without thinking, you spat right into his smug face and before you knew it, his strong arms were wrapped around your trembling neck, almost straddling you so you couldn't even make a sound. Everything around you began to blur, and the last moment you remembered before passing out was Patrick's menacing laugh as he pushed you right out into the road in front of the speeding car. A fatal blow hit your body, a screeching sound of tires rang in your ears and you screamed in pain, choking on your own breath.

And then the darkness finally took you.

At least you thought so until you heard a familiar male voice calling out to you, and no, it wasn't Patrick. No way, if you were really going to die, you wished you would never meet him in the place you were going to transfer to. No doubt, that son of a bitch would burn in hell while you would end up in heaven. Somehow you were sure of that.

"Jesus, (y/n), will you stop yelling?" The grumpy voice called out to you again.

You blinked several times before opening your eyes to see the opulent interior around you. And who said that heaven was somewhere in the sky where angels were flying around promising a peaceful afterlife?

"Welcome back," the dark-haired man chuckled, swirling his drink in his hand. "I told you not to mix too many cocktails."

Cocktails?

You recoiled as if from an electric shock as you suddenly heard your inner voice, seemingly silent for centuries. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to get up, but the next moment you fell back onto something soft, which seemed to be a car seat, considering you definitely heard the engine rumble, so you were definitely in someone's car. Another attempt to get up was more successful and you took your time exploring the surroundings, and when you managed to get a good look at the person sitting on the opposite side of you, your heart did a flip-flop in your chest.

"Bryce?" You couldn't believe your eyes at first, but when you saw his cheeky grin, you knew it was really him.

"You drifted off right after we got in, so I decided not to wake you," Timothy replied nonchalantly before taking a sip of his drink. "Nice limo? Evelyn and Bateman were supposed to be in it, but then he told me they were leaving in a fucking helicopter," the man laughed, almost dropping the glass. "A fucking helicopter, can you believe that?"

Your head was spinning, making it difficult to process the information. Grunting, you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to remember how you got in here in the first place.

"Ohhh...my head," you hissed, almost kicking the tray of drinks that was on the small table built into the limo door. "What...what happened after the ceremony ended," your question left Tim speechless and for a moment you both remained silent. "Bryce?"

Timothy frowned and placed the empty glass on his knee. "Are you kidding?"

"For God's sake, Bryce!" You suddenly raised your voice, but the next second you hissed in pain. "Can... can you just fucking tell me what the hell am I doing here?"

"You're asking me that?" Bryce tilted his head as he watched you try to sit comfortably. "Come on, (y/n), this isn't funny anymore. Besides, I warned you not to drink too much."

Tsk... I can't remember a damn thing.

When you managed to sit up straight, you pressed yourself against the cold window and sighed in relief. "And what exactly did...we drink?" 

The man scoffed. "I told you...you had several cocktails, but that was not enough...so you decided to finish everything the bar had."

"Ahh, screw you! I don't believe a word you're saying," you threw one leg over the other, watching the blinding lights of oncoming traffic. "Where are we going?!"

"Where? Jeez, if you can't drink, you better not even try," Tim replied curtly, his voice changing, now devoid of any sass. "We're going to my place."

"What?"

"Stop fucking pretending you don't remember," the man barked, squirming in his seat, the glass felt on the soft floor of the limo, thankfully it didn't break. "Do you know how deranged you are? You talked in your sleep-"

"I didn't!" You tried to interrupt him, completely embarrassed. "Take another glass and-"

"No, no, no, hold on!" Bryce leaned forward to get closer so you could see his face more clearly. "Did I hit the nerve?"

Yes, you did. You fucking did.

If only you could really confess and open up to him without fear of being accused or whatever. Would it even be right to tell Tim everything that happened between you and Patrick? When you were so close to telling him all the things that were bothering you, your voice suddenly disappeared, as if some invisible force was choking you from within. Only after a few minutes did you manage to speak, feeling Timothy's piercing gaze.

"Was it Evelyn who invited you to the wedding?" Your question surprised him, you could tell by the way he leaned back in his seat. "I'm just curious...because she invited me."

Every time Evelyn was mentioned, something changed in his expression, and you couldn't really find the right word to describe it—it was something much stronger than the usual sadness people always talked about—something that made you sad, too.

"Let's say," his lips curled into a wry smile and you couldn't take your eyes off them, they were beautiful and alluring. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember or...you don't want to remember?" You opened your coat, suddenly feeling suffocated in your clothes.

Bryce furrowed his thick eyebrows, looked down at the empty glass on the floor, as did you, and then your fingers touched as you both leaned down to pick it up. Tim's skin was not as soft as Patrick's, it felt completely different, it made you want to explore it more, to touch it, to taste it, as if it was your own personal forbidden fruit.

Without saying a word, Tim quickly pulled away and took the glass to place it on the tray next to the others, the amber liquid in them making them look like they were made of gold. There was no room for any more talk as the two of you pulled each other into a furious kiss, you let him place his hand at the base of your neck, drawing you closer and soon you were sitting on top of him, gasping into his mouth. Bryce's slightly flushed face made it impossible to think of Bateman, even though his image tried to appear every time you briefly opened your eyes. 

Leave... me... alone!

You almost growled aloud, but Tim's eager tongue prevented you from doing so, as he used it to shut you up completely, licking your mouth from the inside while his hands slid down your back to your ass, massaging it, and when you thought he was going to slap it, he just gave it a playful squeeze.

"Jesus, Bryce," you whispered against his red lips, swollen from your kisses. "I didn't know you could be so sweet."

Tim craned his neck and you seized the moment to leave a wet hickey on his smooth skin, he smelled so good you thought you could just snuggle into his chest and sniff his scent. And why did you even bother with these childish, silly games with Bateman? Unfortunately, some questions never had answers, but it didn't matter now. Not when you could find comfort in the arms of Patrick's best friend. 

God, I wish you could see me right now.

"There's so little you know about me, baby." He chirped before helping you take off your coat, his impatience turning you on wildly. 

With a soft giggle, you unbuttoned your shirt. "Huh, baby? Really? And I thought you were the type who didn't use such primitive nicknames."

Smirking, you teased him with the slow rocking of your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressed against your burning core, and it spurred you to move faster, more erratically, as you unexpectedly became as impatient as he was. And even though you didn't like losing control, you wanted to get lost right now, even though you'd probably regret it tomorrow, but at least the regret would be different.

Nibbling at the artery on your neck, Timothy grabbed your ass tighter to make the friction more vivid, his finger digging into the expensive material of your Gucci pants. "I can call you anything you want," he growled into your collarbone, your shirt half undone. "Just tell me what you want to be tonight?"

"I can be anything," you caught his warm lips with your own to kiss him again in a way that bordered on desperation, as if your life depended on it, and he responded with the same ferocity. "Anything you want..."

Chuckling at your cheeky statement, the man lounged in his seat and looked at you up and down, admiring the way your clothes were disheveled, your hair was nothing like it had been when you had just arrived at the wedding and even your feelings were different. Everything was different now, the whole world seemed to diminish to the size of the interior of the limousine and you both wanted this moment to last forever, but you knew it was impossible.

Bryce decided to use his mouth in a more effective way than just talking, latching it around your nipple through your shirt, but then taking it off completely and swirling his tongue around your hard tip.

"Don't be anything," he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock. "Just be mine tonight."

You couldn't hide a smile of genuine satisfaction as his words struck a chord in your chest. "Deal."

With that, you carefully rose from his lap to position yourself between his wide-open legs, watching him touch himself with pure abandon. And yet, everything about Tim was far too alien, your mind kept bringing back the memories of what had happened in the bathroom a few hours ago. It hurt, it hurt so much that you almost chewed your cheek to the point of blood to hold back the tears. Bryce, you had to focus on Bryce, he was here, right in front of you, all spread out and pumping his thick cock. 

Stop thinking about Bateman!

"Are you sure you know what to do?" Timothy glared down at you, concerned by the sudden change in your demeanor.

Shaking yourself off, you smiled in reply and before you knew it, your hand was sliding along his, then completely replacing it and stroking his dick vigorously, smearing his dense pre-cum all along your hand. 

"Watch me," you murmured and lowered yourself even more to take him in your mouth, savoring his salty taste. "Mhhm...fuck, Bryce, you taste so good."

Tim couldn't stop himself from moaning, grabbing the edge of the seat and closing his eyes in ecstasy. "Keep going," he purred, fighting the urge to fuck your throat. "Shit... Bateman doesn't even know what he lost."

Bryce's words almost made you choke on his beefy shaft, but it only took a moment to pull yourself together and just enjoy the way his dick slid in and out of your mouth. As the man pushed himself further, the tip brushing against your throat, you leaned against his hips for support, allowing him to have his way with you. Just the sight of him made you tremble with desire, as you had never really thought that Tim could be so hot, not that you had any doubts that he was a skilled lover, but reality never ceased to surprise you.

"I...I'm so fucking close...uh," his voice dropped even lower, eloquent proof of his words. "Your mouth...arhhh...you know how to work magic with your mouth, babe."

Although you had always denied having a praise kink, being with Tim was the first time you were truly willing to admit that you did have a praise kink. Every little praise he gave you was like balm to your broken soul, encouraging you to suck him harder, to drink him dry. These two men were far too unlike each other, but in the end, you seemed to crave them both.

Being so close to falling apart, Bryce couldn't control himself any more and took a handful of your hair and plunged full length into your bruised mouth until you both noticed that the car had stopped. Tim swore loudly but that didn't stop you and the next thing you remembered was feeling thick ropes of his hot cum shooting down your throat and you could swear it tasted so fucking sweet. Maybe you were delusional, maybe it was just another hallucination–you didn't care because you were high like no drugs could make you.

I'll remember that taste for sure. 

A little later, you didn't know exactly how much time had passed, and you didn't recollect how the two of you had gotten into Bryce's apartment. You didn't care about the luxury of this place, how expensive the furniture was, how soft the silk sheets were when you fell on them, your naked skin sliding along the cold material like a ship on waves. You were about to lose all connection to reality when Tim climbed on top of you, his hairy chest rubbing against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist and you couldn't stifle a moan as his leaky dick rubbed against your legs.

Creasing the sheets, you raked your hand through his black, tousled hair, pulling him closer so that your lips could collide in a hunger kiss. "Fuck me, Tim," you murmured unexpectedly, brushing your feet against his hips. "Fuck me like there's no tomorrow."

"Are you always this needy?" He teased, biting your lower lip and licking it after a quick nibble. "Or is it because of me?"

Perplexed, you stopped doing anything as his words left you pondering. "I... I don't know... I don't know who I really am..."

Bryce nodded without saying anything, his nose touching yours in a brief moment of genuine affection, and somehow you thought he understood everything, that he could read you like an open book and there was no need for you to explain. Pecking your cheek, the man slowly turned you over on your stomach and you quickly got down on all fours because you couldn't wait any longer. Bucking your hips, you turned around to see him positioning himself behind you, his warm palm caressing your ass before a finger probed your tight hole, making you gasp but you didn't falter, showing him how ready and eager you were.

"Uhh," Tim stroked himself several times before aligning himself with your opening and diving in with a slow, deliberate thrust. "Fuck...mmhm-fuck."

The mere thought that he had been imagining Evelyn all this time, starting with you giving him head, suddenly made you angry, and for a brief second you allowed yourself to imagine that it was Patrick who was stretching you from the inside, but somehow you began to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry...I'm not Evelyn," you blurted out without thinking. "But I..."

"Shut up," he cut you off and slammed into you relentlessly, forcing you to take him, no matter how painful it was. "I don't want to hear about her...not even a thing."

Bryce was right, it was so fucking stupid of you to bring Evelyn at such a moment, but it was so hard for you to think clearly and Tim's fat cock didn't help at all, the fullness it gave you was completely overwhelming. It made you forget everything and you didn't even want to compare your sensation with the way Patrick made you feel - your mind was finally free of any emotions or thoughts–you were drowning in a carnal lust. You were both extremely vocal, poor neighbors who could hear you at this hour, but Timothy seemed to be completely indifferent as he set the pace, pounding into you with all his might, each stroke full of desperation and unbridled passion. 

By the time dawn broke, you couldn't remember how many orgasms you'd both had, as you'd probably tried every possible and impossible position. You managed to be on your knees for him, under him, on top of him. It was madness you never thought you were capable of. As you rode his face, touching yourself, you cried out Bryce's name, not even afraid to accidentally use Patrick's name instead. 

"Tim...mhmm-fuck...Tim...I'mma cum!" You fisted his hair, sliding along his glistening face as you rubbed your most sensitive spot. "Fuck...yeahh-Tim...ahhh!"

Shaking, you cum around his face, feeling his strong tongue move inside your tight ass as your inner channel spasmed around it, causing him to moan and hold you close to prolong your climax. Time stopped for both of you with the last stroke of his tongue along your tender flesh and you both collapsed exhausted on the bed. 

The first rays of the sun awoke you earlier than you could have imagined. As you lazily got up from the bed, trying not to disturb Tim snoring peacefully, you checked the time before you started looking for your clothes. To be honest, you wanted to stay here in his bed and continue to sleep in his arms, but you knew it would only lead to destruction and you were sure that Bryce thought the same.

Maybe it was a mistake?

Frowning, you wanted to punch yourself for being so reckless and stupid, but Tim's loud exhale caught your attention. You turned to check on him before leaving his bedroom to quickly get dressed and use the bathroom. All the while, you tried to ignore your own reflection, feeling the shame and contempt eating away at you from within, though you didn't even understand why. Bryce wanted this to happen as much as you did, but no matter how hard you tried to reassure yourself, it just didn't seem right. After one last look in the large mirror above the sink, you left the bathroom and soon after you left Timothy's apartment. 

The taxi ride back to the Plaza Hotel didn't take long as it was only six in the morning. Looking out the window, you saw rare pedestrians walking here and there, some of them holding newspapers that you were sure were the New York Times. The tops of the skyscrapers were about to reach the sky, and every time you craned your neck to look at them, your head began to spin. All these little details made you realize that you missed New York and probably your former life?

Was it worth it leaving everything behind?

This question kept swirling around in your head even as you finally got back into your suit and decided to take a shower to clean up after such a wild day. Dear God, you just fucked two different men in one day. 

"I'm so pathetic..." You muttered to yourself as you stood under the hot water. "What am I going to do now?"

Pressing your head against the wet tiled wall, you gave up and let the tears flow down your face, the water washing them away in an instant. You felt guilty, thinking that you'd only used Bryce for your own needs, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything serious, but you did it anyway. It was so damn selfish. But then you remembered the words Patrick had said to you in the bathroom just before the ceremony started. You clenched your hand into a fist and the next second you slammed it into the wall with all the strength you had. The blow was so strong that your hand began to bleed, but you ignored it because physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness inside your soul. As if under a spell, you kept hitting the wall, leaving bloodstains on it. 

Five hours later, you are sitting in the restaurant area of the Plaza, waiting for Paul Allen to join you for lunch. Since you had some time before your flight to Chicago, you thought it would be good to catch up with him and talk a little about your current situation at your new job.

Maybe I can get a fresh start here...

Rocking in your seat, you looked down at your bruised hand, which was covered in a tight white bandage, and luckily you managed to stop the bleeding without going to the hospital, but you were still a little nervous, though not because of your wound. What if Paul would tell you that there was no way you could return to New York because the company in Chicago wouldn't let you go? You tapped your fingers on the table in anxiety before picking up the New York Times to distract yourself. One page, then another, until an interesting article appeared in your vision–a luxurious tobacco store in Upper Manhattan had been robbed–the very store you always liked to visit and even dreamed of buying a collection of cigars to give to Patrick...

"(Y/n)! How have you been?" Paul's cheerful voice echoed across the room and when you turned to face him, you noticed that he looked even more tanned than the last time you saw him. 

"Oh, hi," you accepted his handshake and then Allen took a seat across from you. "I've been better," your other hand was still holding a newspaper and it caught Paul's attention. "What about you?"

Paul nodded in understanding. "Well, my job kicks my ass, is all I can say," he laughed, and before you could say anything else, he pointed to the copy of the New York Times. "What are you reading?"

Slightly embarrassed, you folded the paper and put it aside. "Times," you replied briefly. "The tobacco store I liked to visit was robbed in broad daylight. Can you imagine that?"

Allen shifted in his seat. "I didn't know you frequented places like this," he chuckled, finally opening the menu. "Because I don't remember you smoking."

Smirking, you leaned back in your chair. "You don't know anything about me, Allen," you took a sip of your wine and watched him tense up a bit. "Anyway, I just got a little upset because I wanted to buy something in this store for..." you suddenly stammered, feeling dizzy.

"For...?" Paul arched his eyebrows and looked at you suspiciously.

"For a person... ," you finished. "...a very special one."

"Your date?" The man asked in a playful tone. "And who might that be?"

You found this situation quite ironic, because you really imagined yourself going to that store and buying those fucking cigars, hoping they would impress Bateman, and now you ended up fucking his best friends because he married Evelyn Williams.  

As you propped yourself up on your elbow, you suddenly started to laugh, but then it turned into a pathetic whimper. "I'm so fucked up, Allen," you shook your head and gripped the table. "You can't even imagine how... fucked up... I am."

And I don't know how I'm going to survive this.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[lucianachen]

Chapter 1 - What the Hades....

Masterlist

???? POV:

*We did it...

We created life, life from just a few particles in Deepspace, life from a few particles found in protocores known to be both toxic and poisonous to anyone with even an ounce of contact with human skin...

But we did it, WE created *her* Asphodel X03...

Our greatest creation yet, just like what we did with Maia X01.

She will be our ascension to immortality, she will be what this world needs to achieve the impossible. It's just a matter of time...*

Asphodel POV:

My head.... What the....

Where am I? What is this place?

I continued to look at my surroundings, wondering why I have this blistering headache and why in Hades' name can I not remember anything?

Wait

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Hades? Who was that? Why did a random name just pop in my head?.... Nvm, what's important is to process my surroundings better so I can get the hell out of here.

But... Hold up, something isn't right.

Why can't I remember anything? Why is the only memory in my mind a place of darkness and suddenly being thrust into the light?

"Doctor, she's awake" wait she? Are they talking about me? I look to the side of the room to see a large window with people on the other side in white lab coats taking down notes.

"E-excuse me?" My voice came out rather hoarse, as if I've been screaming for the past hour. "W-where am I?" I asked, "hmmm, note it down. Awoken after a few hours of rigorous testing both in organs and skin. It seems her body is adapting quickly from all the chemicals injected in her body and not only that but she's regenerating rather quickly unlike the other two."

What.

Testing?

Chemicals?

Regeneration?

What the hell are they doing to me? I stared at them in both shock and horror wondering what they were doing to my body, mind you my body, from what I can see, is the body of the child. Are they sick or something? Doing experiments like that to a child? A child who just woke up not even a few minutes ago?

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A week has passed, how do I know that? Beats me, I know a lot of things that even I can't explain. But they continue to do these tests on my body, seemingly hoping to find more answers to whatever it is they're finding.

Somehow after a week, they let me go. Some guards are escorting me to a room from the back of the facility, some of the scientists who experimented on me told me I would meet the others who're just like me.

And now here we are... After opening the door, the guard just threw me into the room with no regards whatsoever for my health btw and shut the door from behind. I look across the room to find not only one but two other kids like me, a boy and a girl.

The boy, who looked at me with wariness in his eyes, feels familiar to me somehow. Like I've seen him before. The girl on the other hand is looking at me with curiosity, both so familiar to me but I can't just place where I've seen them before in my head.

"Uh... Hello?" Finally saying something to them, I nervously greeted them with a wave of my hand. "Who are you?" The boy asked, holding his hand out in front of the girl seemingly protecting her from my presence and glaring at me as if I was the one hurting them in the first place (which I get, I mean scientist experimenting on you suddenly brought in another child to your room without explanation? I would be wary too but jeez turn the glare down to a minimum would ya?)

"Um, I'm Asphodel X03? That's what they call me anyway" I shrugged, I didn't know how I was so nonchalant with everything that's been happening tbh, all I know is that when I woke up during my first day here, they continued experimenting on me and somehow I can't feel even an ounce of pain from all the cutting and stabbing they did, all I felt was a itch in my skin that never seems to go away.

"A-are you just like us?" The girl asked stepping around the boy's hand without an ounce of fear. The boy watched as the girl went around his hand staring at her shock, as if to say that she should be more wary of strangers. "I guess so? I mean yeah, they did experiment on me more times than I can count." I replied to her shrugging, the boy stared at me in shock.

"Y-you! You can't just say something like that like it's nothing!" The boy shouted ( Jeez calling him "the boy" is getting old ) "What's wrong with what I said? Is it not the truth?" Ok maybe I'm being arrogant here, but you would too if you've experienced what I've experienced so far, being experimented on but feeling nothing more than an itch that you can't ignore.

"It is! But still you can't say something like that so blunty!" He shouted again, his eyes darting from me to the girl beside him, like it's telling me to think and look at her expression. Which I did, and oh boy.... Her face looked so pale, her eyes terrified. "Oh."

"Yeah 'Oh'" he rolled his eyes at me, bringing the girl closer to him to comfort her. Now I feel bad, "Hey, I'm sorry.... I didn't know that this would be your reaction...." I moved closer to the two, looking at the girl with apologetic eyes conveying my apologies to her. The boy on the other hand.... Looked at me skeptically.

"Look I'm really sorry" I looked at both of them. "I-its fine" the girl finally spoke up after a few seconds. "I'm X01, I think that's what they call me..." She said, her face is laced with confusion as if somehow forgetting her name every time, "tsk..." The boy looked at me still skeptical "02..." She said, tugging on the boy's sleeves and looking at him with eyes so doe like, you could've mistaken it for an animal's eyes.

"I'm Caleb X02... But they don't call me that here, it's just 02 I guess." He looked to the side after introducing himself... That's weird, why does that name seem so familiar? Where have I heard that before? "Agh..." Suddenly, as if electrocuted by a lightning bolt ( SIDE NOTE: future Asphodel here everyone! Seeing as how I remember my memories from the past life, this line was quite ironic seeing as how who my friends were. Alright back to the story! ) I started convulsing and dropped to the floor. The two in front of me suddenly panicked, while the girl wanted to come close to me, the other one wouldn't let her afraid that maybe she would be affected by the sudden electric current radiating from my body.

Then two guards emerged from the closed door taking the two in front of me by surprise, "You're now situated with each other, now let's go. They're waiting for you" one of the guards suddenly grabbed my forearm tightly, dragging me to the close door while I continued heaving after getting electrocuted so suddenly.

While the guards were dragging me through the door, I looked at the two still inside the room seeing them both so afraid of the guards just barging in and taking me away.

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That happened around a week ago, now I've been a constant presence to both X01 and X02 inside the room, they even started trusting me once I figured out I could heal their injuries from the experiments those Dam ( future Asphodel: get it? Dam?.... Ok I'll stop ) scientists did to all of us. Though for some unfortunate reason, I can't seem to heal myself but I can heal others just fine.

"Jiě jie are you ok?" I looked up startled as I heard X01 call out to me. "Oh, I'm fine just thinking about something" I replied to her.

"You don't look fine" someone from behind me said, I looked back to see X02 standing behind me with his newly bandaged arms crossed and looking at me with narrowed eyes. "I'm fine X02, just thinking about my healing powers again." I looked at my arms as I said that.

X02 sighed "you know you don't have to heal me right? I know it takes a lot of your energy to just heal one of us, let alone two people." He shook his head, arms uncrossing and putting them to his hips.

"Yeah Jiě jie, Gege's right. You don't have to heal both of us." X01 said, looking at me with those soft doe eyes. If she keeps looking at me like that I won't be able to stop myself from pinching her cheeks. Why does she have to be so cute.

"You know I don't want to stop healing you guys, besides... They do more damage to both of you than they do to me." I look down onto my lap, thinking about the times wherein X02 comes back with open wounds on his arms and scars on his back and us watching how they tortured and killed X01 more times than I can count.

*WARNING*

*WARNING*

*WARNING*

*WARNING*

*WARNING*

Suddenly, alarms start blaring out the facility, issuing a warning never have I heard before ever since I got to this place.

"What's happening?" X01 looks afraid, clinging onto my arm tightly. "I don't know" I replied back, this hasn't happened before. Why are there suddenly alarms blaring out a warning? What's going on?

"Both of you stay here" X02 looked at the door with suspicion.

Wait, where was he going? I thought to myself as I saw him walking towards the door slowly. "X02" I called out to him "where are you going?" I stretch my arm out to catch the ends of his shirt holding him back from going towards the door.

"I'm going to check what's going on out there" he replied taking my hand out of his shirt and walking to the door, but then it opened.

All three of us froze, but once we saw who the figure was X01 relaxed slightly. There in the door, was one of the scientists tasked to experiment on all three of us, especially X01.

If I remember correctly, her name was Josephine. She looks disheveled. Like something dangerous was happening and for some reason I could feel a sense of death outside the room.

"We have to get out of here X02 grabbed X03 and lets go" she said stalking towards both X01 and I who stood up a few minutes ago, and grabbed the girl from behind me and pulled her towards the door looking at X02 and then at me.

"W-wait" X01 looked up at her then to X02 and me and said "What's going on? Where are we going?"

"There's no time to waste, come on you three." Josephine said, still tugging X01s hand to get through the door. X02, sensing that something was amiss, grabbed my hand and followed the two of them outside. Once through the door, all I could see was a sea of red light, the siren blaring out warnings so loud that caused my ears to hurt.

All three of us continue to follow Josephine through the corridor and after a few twists and turns we finally see a door just up a head.

But unfortunately, things don't always go according to plan.

A sudden explosion from behind us led to us being separated, my hands slipped from X02s grip and I was thrown back to a wall while I heard both X01 and X02 screaming for me.

I can tell my head was bleeding from the impact that explosion caused, and my ears were still ringing from it.

But a sudden warmth spread through me, I could feel hands start to carry me from where I laid and brought me through the door. With my eyes still blurry from the impact and explosion, I could see a blueish - silvery mask of the stranger who saved me.

Seemingly sensing someone staring up at him, he looked down at the girl in his arms and brought a hand out to her eyes "sleep, you're safe now."

With that reassurance, I was out like a light.

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When I came to, I saw two familiar faces up close, one more closer than the other. Which surprisingly, isn't X01. "Wha-"

"Jiě jie!"

"X03!"

They both exclaimed at the same time. "Jeez, tone it done a little would ya? My head's killing me" I said as I clutched my throbbing head. "Of course your head would hurt dumbass, you have a wound on it. If it weren't for me you would've died from the amount of blood you've lost!" X02 exclaimed while helping me up from my position. From this angle I could see both of them more clearly than before.

X01s eyes were red, which I guess comes from all the crying, while X02 is glaring at my head as if it offended me to a serious degree. "Wait... Where's that woman?" I questioned, now realizing that it was just the three of us here in this run down building.

"She went to find supplies for all of us" X01 replied, sensing my confusion.

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A few days have passed with Josephine having come back from finding those supplies, we ventured away from the building we've stayed in for the past 3 days. At least that's what they told me seeing as how I was unconscious for 2 of those days.

Then, we found a shelter with other victims of the catastrophe that happened a few days ago, Josephine decided to let us stay here for a few days, that is until she finds us a permanent place to live in.

The days felt like a routine, waking up, eating, cleaning ourselves, contemplating what to do next, and then sleeping again. It just keeps repeating for almost a week, until Josephine finally found a place for us at Whitesand Bay.

(A/N: Yes I know that's where Rafayel lives in but, bear with me for a second, I don't actually know where Mc and Caleb lived in before the main story started, and it's been a long time since I've read the earlier chapters of the game so excuse me guys if any information stated in this chapter feels so fanon coded, when really I've just been relying on the information I still have stuck in my head. Could I have just read the story again? Yes. But it's time consuming and I don't have a lot of time for it with my Research and school projects coming along as well. So I'm very sorry if there's any misinformation in here, but I would be so grateful to people who decide to comment on things that I've gotten wrong and to correct me for them. Now let's go back to the story.)

It was a two story house with 5 bedrooms in it, 3 upstairs and 2 downstairs. Josephine told us to take the upstairs bedroom while she stays on the first floor. After we settled ourselves in, she told us to come to the living so we could talk about what to do from now on.

"Since we're now living together, why don't the three of you decide on a name?" The three of us looked at each other with weariness in our eyes, X01 being less weary than us but still weary nonetheless. I didn't trust to say the least, she might've saved us from whatever it is that happened back there, but that doesn't erase the fact that she was one of the people who partook in the experiments those scientist did to us.

"M-mira" both X02 and I look at X01, well I guess Mira now, in surprised. Then we looked at each other and sighed in resignation. "Caleb..." X02, now Caleb said after a few minutes of silence. Then I quickly followed with "Asphodel"

Josephine smiled, as if quite pleased with the names both Caleb and I chose. "Alright then, hello Mira, Caleb, and Asphodel. I'll be taking care of the three of you from now on. You three can call me grandma." She smiled, portraying a sense of comfort I didn't know if I could trust, but for now I'm letting my guard down.

We aren't in that place anymore, it's time for a new beginning. One filled with happiness, laughter and maybe perhaps love.

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???? P.O.V

Your journey is just beginning Asphodel Chen. Just wait and see.

We'll be waiting for you up here, see you soon Pretty Girl.

Word count: 2.8k

A/n : so here's chapter 1, finally posted after a half month hiatus from me. Sorry about that Guys, it's just been so busy with school and at home lately that I haven't gotten the time to finish chapter 1 a few weeks ago. But here it is! The finished product, if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes in here, please forgive me. I'm running on a cup of coffee with about 4 hours of sleep last night so I might've been out of it when I made this chapter. But nonetheless it's finished and finally posted! Thank you guys for being so patient and I hope you enjoy this chapter, as much as I enjoyed writing it. See you all on the next one!

Taglist: @leftpoetrymoon @animelover18 @animegamerfox @jolixtreesunn

[kayharrisons]

Really fucked it up this time, didn't I my dear? [BJORN X FEM!READER] [18+ ONLY] [4 OF?]

Where it all went wrong.

A/N: HELLO I'M BACK AHAHA have chapter 4 :3 we learn why Bjorn and Reader started to fall apart :) this is ANGSTTTT

Series warnings: unplanned pregnancy, discussions of abortion, eventual childbirth, commitmentphobe Bjorn, possessive Bjorn, talks of morning sickness and other pregnancy symptoms, friends to fwb to something Worse, cheating mentions, nsfw content such as sex and eventual Alien type scenarios

Previous

Next

18 weeks ago

"I'm gonna break it off with him," you murmur, one morning, curled into Bjorn's side and trailing your fingers up and down his chest.

He grunts a sleepy noise, squinting at you through half closed lids. "Why?" he asks, yawning, as he idly brushes his fingers through the ends of your hair. "Wha'sthe twat done?"

"Bjorn," you frown, shifting to sit up a little, searching his face. "I can't... it's not fair on him. He's not done anything wrong-"

"Beyond be a bit shit in bed?" he deflects, and you scowl.

"Bjorn!"

"What?" he huffs, arm flopping back onto the bed, frown firmly in place. "Not wrong, otherwise you wouldn't be coming to me for a shag, now would you?"

You flinch, staring at him with wounded eyes. His jaw sets, but he offers no apologies. "Is that what you think?" You ask, voice wavering. "That's the only reason I...?"

His eyes darken, and he shifts uncomfortably, looking outside of his bedroom window. There's nothing of interest outside of it, of course there isn't. But he's unable to meet your gaze, your hurt eyes.

"What else is there?" he asks, voice cool, exhaling hard as he looks at you again, daring you to say more.

"I can't keep doing this," you laugh, bitterly, as you drop the bedsheets and stand, grabbing your bra, your underwear, furiously tugging them on. Usually you'd relish the feeling of his spend still lingering between your thighs, but now? Now it feels like a mockery, a sham. "You keep fucking- every time we- I can't live with this!"

"What?" he barks out, sitting up and yanking on his t-shirt. "Can't live with what, love? Hm?" He challenges, pulling on his boxers and standing, scowling at you.

"This!" You shriek, gesturing between you both. "You're my best friend and I- fuck, Bjorn, when was the last time we hung out and it wasn't for sex?"

"Y'say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not, it's- I just miss you," you whisper, ducking your head down with a shaky exhale. The Bjorn of before, your best friend, he'd comfort you, would reach out and pull you into a hug. Would settle his hands on your shoulders and look into your eyes, telling you everything would be alright. Would press a kiss to your forehead before shoving you in the direction of the couch so you both could watch a shitty film.

This Bjorn, the one standing before you now? He makes no such moves. His fists clench and unclench by his sides, something flashing across his expression that you can't quite put a name to.

"Right here, aren't I?" he asks, voice hoarse, thick with emotion. His vulnerable eyes meet yours, a look you haven't seen from him in...

You reach out, cupping his cheek in your hand, gently brushing your thumb back and forth along his cheekbone. "Are you?"

He swallows, leaning his cheek into your hand before ripping himself away, back to you, his hand scratching at his scalp. "You should go," he mutters, staring holes into the pictures taped to his wall; years and years with his family and friends, group pictures, silly takes, you in his arms like you belong there. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, hands balling into fists by his sides again. "Y'know, 'fore your boyfriend comes home."

You say nothing. There is the shuffle of clothes being pulled on, the sound of his bedroom door opening and closing and then...

Silence.

"FUCK!" comes his shout, as he slams a balled up fist against the cool metal of his bedroom wall. He leans against it for a moment, ignoring the dull throbbing of his hand as he tries to regain his bearings.

It's impossible, when you've knocked him so off kilter.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Now.

"Fuckin'..." Bjorn slurs, as he leans against your kitchen counter. "Nice... nice dishtowel." he gestures, vaguely, at the pink thing neatly sat on your counter. It wasn't often that you saw a colour that wasn't some shade of brown, grey or beige. So you'd snatched it up at the market, unable to stop smiling that day.

"Thanks," you retort, sourly, arms crossed as you lean against your shitty kitchen table. "What do you want, Bjorn?"

"Can't a bloke cum'n'see his best mate?" he asks, giving you a cheeky grin.

Your eye twitches. As if that damn stupid smile was supposed to erase the last few weeks of torment you'd been putting each other through.

"You haven't said a nice word to me in about two months, you know that, right?"

"Oh, like you've been a ray of fuckin' sunshine lately, love." he shoots back, before taking one look at you and sighing, slumping and scrubbing his hands down his face. "I've missed ya, alright?" he mutters, stumbling on over to your couch and sitting down on it. "Fuckin'... Tyler, man, yappin' on boutcha... not his fuckin' best mate..." he crosses his arms, glumly slouching into the comfort of your couch.

"What the fuck has Tyler got to do with anything?" you ask, bewildered, blinking at him. "He's been a good friend, y'know? Actually asking how I'm doing and not telling me to go fuck myself-"

"Look so pretty with ya fingers inside'ya though," he smirks, bouncing his brows at you. Upon seeing your Medusa scowl, he immediately holds up his hands. "Sorry. Fuck, fuck- I promised myself I wouldn't do that-"

"What? Hit on me after weeks of not talking to me?" you snort, sitting down next to him, tentatively.

He nods, eagerly, reminding you of those little bobble head puppies you sometimes saw sitting on desks on offices. "Yeah! That! The fuckin'... deflection shit. I wanted ta... fuck, I'm sorry, love, alright? I just..."

He looks at you, with his hazy, half open eyes. He reaches out, gently clasping the back of your neck and leaning his forehead against yours, bringing you closer to him. Your heart skips.

Be it from the familiar warmth of him, or the glimpse of the old Bjorn, you're not sure.

"I've missed ya," he whispers, nudging his nose against yours. You try not to recoil from him, the smell of Aspen clinging to his breath. You'd always hated the smell of the beer, and with the baby-

It feels surreal, sitting in the presence of your best friend, your baby's father, and him being blissfully unaware of its existence.

"Missed ya so fuckin' much," he whispers, stroking his fingers along the nape of your neck. You fight back a shiver. "Fuckin'... don't feel like m'self these days, y'know? Like 'alf of me's missin' or summit, even though you're right there and- and fuck, why'dya have t'say it?" He slurs, damn near sobbing the last part out. "We were- we were fine 'till y'said it-"

"We weren't," you whisper, shaking your head and lurching back from him, forcing yourself to your feet. "We weren't, Bjorn! Neither of us could've kept going the way we were!"

"But we had each'otha-" he reaches out, grabbing your hands. "That was- was all I ever wanted-"

"It was all I wanted too," you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze. His palms are clammy, his fingers cold. You squeeze a little tighter, hoping to give him some warmth. "But it was killing us Bjorn. It was."

He lets out a choked sound, resting his forehead against your joined hands. "Why'dya hafta say it?"

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

10 weeks ago.

You lay side by side, panting, both slick with sweat. The room is silent save for your laboured breaths.

"Should we-"

"No." Bjorn grunts, pulling the sheets over his waist, eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Bjorn-" you protest, pushing yourself up, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Just slipped out, didn't it?" he asks, glancing at you, before flinching and returning his gaze to the ceiling. "Slip of the tongue. Happens to the best of us. Can pretend it never happened."

Silence.

He glances to you again, startled at the sight of tears rolling down your cheeks as you stare back at him.

"Fucksake-" he panics, sitting up, gently taking your face in his hands, wiping the tears from your face. "Y'alright-"

"I said I love you." you whisper, and it may as well be a shout from how hard he flinches as you say it. "I can't just- I can't just ignore that, Bjorn."

"Why?" he asks, desperately, searching your face. "We can just-"

"Go back to the way things were?" you finish, bitterly, and he ducks his head down. "I... I can't. I won't. We need to talk about this-"

"We don't!" he snaps, dropping his hands from your face in favour of carding them through his hair. "We're mates, that's all there is to it, ain't there?"

You shake your head, exhaling shakily. "You know as well as I do that that's not the case, not anymore. I love you and I- you love-"

"Don't fuckin' tell me how I feel!" he interrupts, scowling at you. "Don't you dare- I'm the only person who decides that, alright?!"

"Are-" you give him a once over, another tear streaking down your cheek. "Can you honestly tell me you don't feel the same? That this is just- just physical?"

Bjorn sighs heavily through his nose, not quite meeting your eyes. "Just mates, love." he mutters, picking at a loose piece of skin by one of his nails. "S'all there is to it. Nothing more."

"I love you." you repeat, oh so quietly, but you know he hears it. His flinch gives him away. You wait for him to say something, anything, you wait and wait and-

He says nothing back.

"We're done." you whisper, firmly, as you stand and redress, as he continues to pick at his skin and refuses to look at you. "You and me we're- this is over."

"Fine."

You feel like screaming, like grabbing him by the shoulders and demand he fights for you both, that he drops this bullshit facade he has up, that he just fucking admits it-

You do none of this.

You flee, instead, back to the safety of your own trailer.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Now.

"Because that's how I felt," you say, leaning down, pressing a kiss to his head. "Can't change any of it now, though."

"We were fine," he repeats, eyes damp as he looks up at you. "We..."

"Weren't."

He chokes back a sob, tugging insistently on your hand. You sit back down next to him, watching his face.

His beautiful, handsome face that even now still sends your heart skipping a beat or two.

"I..." he clutches your hand tight. "Fuck- messed up. I ruined-"

"You didn't feel the same, Bjorn," you sigh, giving him a tight smile. It still hurts, even now, after all these weeks. "That's... not a crime. I just think it could've been handled better."

"But I do!" he snaps, squeezing your hand. "I fuckin'- christ, love, I've been mental 'boutcha for years-"

Instead of skipping a beat, your heart stops. Drops to your stomach entirely as you listen to him, as you watch him. He's drunk. So very drunk.

What he's saying, it's everything you'd been hoping for, that you've dreamed of...

You reach out, pressing a finger to his lips.

But it isn't right.

"No," you say softly, shaking your head. "No. Tell me when you sober up, okay? I don't... I don't wanna hear it from you like this."

He blinks at you, oh so confused... before nodding, pecking your finger. "Okay..."

You stand, scrubbing a hand down your face. "Sleep on the couch tonight, okay? I'll talk to you in the morning."

"Okay." He repeats, nodding still. Your lips quirk up a little, as you toss a blanket his way.

"Shoes off."

"Okay."

That gets your snorting. He blinks innocently at you, toeing off his boots.

"Night, Bjorn."

"Okay..." he slurs, already half asleep and tangled with the blanket you'd tossed his way.

Your eyes linger on him a moment before you head to your bedroom, before you curl up on your bed and resist the urge to cry all over him again.

He won't be there in the morning. You know it.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Intemporelle; timeless

Paring: Quinn Hughes | OC Female (Older)

Chapter: 1 of ? | A Chance Meeting

WC: 5,825

Genre: Romance/Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol use, swearing, mentioned depressive thoughts, guilt/shame, embarrassment

Summary: Off-season wedding within the Canucks' organization. Quinn is drunk when he's introduced to a friend of the bride and groom. Things take a turn when he gets sick and requires being tucked into bed.

Big thank you to @insidious-apple for letting me gush about my silly ideas and spamming you with updates.

White flowers fell in cascaded archways over top of every doorway in the chateau's ballroom. No expense had been spared on the wedding, now in full swing, that evening. Guests had been arriving the last three days to the Fairmont Chateau to enjoy the luxuries afforded by their hosts. No matter where you looked, luxe decorations  reminded you of the scope of the affair.

By now, the reception had gone late into the beginning hours of the morning. Parents, grand-parents, aunts, and uncles had all said their goodbyes hours before, leaving the younger generations to continue the festivities. Shoes had been abandoned, empty glasses, and plates of cake littered several tables, their respective owners all mingling on the dance floor or in their rooms entirely.

Madeline Ramsey, best friend of the bride, had gotten to the resort just that morning. Work as a dress consultant in one of Vancouver's high-end bridal stores had kept her away from joining the rest of the bridal party's celebrations and had made her feel like she was playing catch-up ever since the ceremony. She was tall, curvy; a deep brunette with striking sage green eyes. She had just turned thirty-four two months prior in June; becoming now the last of all of her girlfriends to tie the knot. Years before, she was so consumed by the fact that she wasn't even in a relationship let alone engaged, but now, it was just another day on her own.

"Maddie! About time you showed! You were missed!" The groom hollered over the booming DJ equipment. He was obviously feeling no pain, throwing his arm over his friend that was standing next to him and whose conversation had been interrupted when she wandered near. The friend, looked in way worse shape than the groom but equally enjoying his time at the reception, locked eyes on Maddie and never took his eyes off her.

"I'm sorry! You didn't have to schedule your wedding in peak season either! I work in the industry, you know!"

"I forgot about that. But hey! You're here now!"

They stood there for a few minutes, just talking, giving congratulations and catching up. Maddie still being admired from the unintroduced bystander, took a sip of her wine, smiling with her eyes over the rim of her glass.

"Ah, goddamn, sorry! Maddie, Quinn; Quinn, Maddie."

"Hello," she says, making Quinn smile, his eyes finally falling away from her for the first time.

"Quinny's a little shy," the groom jokes. Quinn's face goes beet red in the dimly lit hall, at the sound of being called by one of his nicknames. He receives a playful shove to his shoulder from his teammate before he turns to leave. "I hate to leave you too, but I need to check on my bride. She's been left unsupervised with an open bar...for probably too long. Don't be strangers!"

Maddie said her goodbyes and turned her attention back to Quinn. He was looking down at his feet, kicking one with the other. His awkwardness made her smile. "So, I take it you play with Connor?"

"Yeah, he's a great guy," Quinn replied, trying to keep his drunk gaze on her face. "You're really...pretty."

His compliment was the last thing she had expected to hear so she just stared at him like a deer in the headlights for a second. Knowing she heard him correctly, she still asked him to repeat himself like the music was too loud. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” 

Quinn shook his head, trying to make it come off like he hadn’t said anything, realizing in his drunkenness he had some regret over saying what he had. After a few moments, he began to crack a smile. 

“Yeah, huh, you said I was pretty.” Maddie teased, taking another drink from her glass.

“Nuh-uh,” Quinn grinned.

Maddie, realizing he was being full of shit, gave her best fake, dramatic gasp. “How rude!” Quinn just continued to smile that same cheesy grin. Leaving it alone, Maddie looked forward to the dance floor, trying to see if there was anyone she needed to say hello to before while they could still remember seeing her. However, from where she stood it was hard to say. 

“Would you want....would you like to dance?” Quinn blurts out, when the song changes to a slow one making Maddie look back over at the young captain. 

“You want to dance? With me?”

Quinn nodded quickly in succession, like a little boy asked if wanted candy. 

“Since you called me pretty…I guess,” she teased. “Yes, I’ll dance with you.” Putting her glass and clutch down on a nearby table she takes Quinn’s wobbly, outstretched arm and tries her best to let him lead her to the outer fringes of the dance floor. 

At first, Quinn seemed hesitant to put his hands on her for the dance. Maddie helped him along by putting her arms around his neck which brought the two of them together quickly. Quinn’s face burned hot smelling her perfume and feeling her so close to him. 

"Are you okay?" She said, leaning in to tease him. 

"Mhm." He blushed, again. 

The two of them just swayed back and forth to the slow beat of the song, in their own little world and no one paid them a bit of mind. Maddie stood an couple inches taller than Quinn due to her heels but he didn't seem to mind. From time-to-time, she'd look over at Quinn who would just start to giggle. However, towards the end of the song, something changed in his face. 

"Quinn?" Maddie's brows pulled inward. Looking at him a little longer, she knew that look. His breathing had deepened, his brows were knitted together, and he just looked worried. He was going to be sick if she wasn't proactive in getting him out of there, for the sake of his pride if nothing else. "C'mon, let's get you outside."

This time, he doesn't even nod. He fully lets her guide him to the connecting hallway where she hoped she might find a bathroom. Quinn's feet began to drag, like he was fighting the urge to expel his guts all over the marble hallway. 

"You're okay," she reassures, her hand in his. "Hold on just a little longer."

He didn't answer her; didn't even hum an answer, just kept his eyes down and clung to her grasp. Eventually, she'd find him a safe place and he wasted no time pushing through the door while Maddie waited outside. While she stood there, she remembered she had left her purse behind. If she didn't get it now, the possibility of someone else running off with it, or forgetting it entirely, was growing with each second she stood there. 

Down the hall she sprinted - sprinted as fast as she could in her heels - to gather her things and return to Quinn hopefully before he was better. Before she reached the door she slowed to a dignified walk and acted like nothing was wrong. No one needed to know there were things going on; not her friends or his. 

"Maddie!"

"Maddie come here! Where have you been?" A couple bridesmaids spotted her and at the top of their voices they yelled her name. "Come dance with us!"

Maddie just smiled and waved a "no thank you" in their direction. Their audible, disappointed whines melted into the music as she passed by them. She'd blow the group a kiss before finally parting ways, thankful that she had been able to skirt that situation without being too hindered, or asked why she was leaving; worse yet if they had seen her leave with Quinn. 

Back down the hall her heels clicked almost at a panicked pace. She'd turn that final corner to see Quinn sitting on the ground, outside the bathroom door, his head resting on his knees as he hugged them. When his eyes lifted to see her, they were red and wet. He looked so tired, drained, and just like he still felt like shit.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. I just left to get my bag."

Quinn shook his head, his eyes staying locked on her face, "It's okay." 

"C'mon, how about we get you upstairs?" Maddie reached down, both of her arms extended for him to take her hands and get up off the floor. His skin was cool and clammy when he finally decided to move and reach out for her. "Nice and slow." 

He had lost his suit jacket by this point, it laid beside him in a crumpled heap but he was so wobbly getting back up that Maddie decided to get it for him instead. Quinn stood against the wall, his breathing slowed now and he was leaning.

"Do you have your room key, Quinn?" She asked respectfully feeling around in the pockets of the jacket in case it was in there. 

"Mhm, somewhere. Oh, here, I think." From the pocket of his pants, Quinn produced the black room key and did his best to hand it to her. 

"Thank you. Do you want to wear your jacket?" Maddie asked, thought it laid draped over her left arm. He shook his head and stayed leaning against the wall. "Do you need a minute?"

"No."

He sounded awful; like there was nothing left in him to interact with. Maddie put her hand against his back and his eyes opened, looking at her with exhaustion. She wanted to help him, but there was only so much comfort she could offer him from their current position. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

Getting Quinn towards the elevator had been easier than getting him to the bathroom, but it was still no speed walk. He was still wobbly underfoot and couldn't walk in a straight line without Maddie as a bumper. He mumbled inaudible apologies, laying his head on her shoulder as the elevator doors closed and pulled them upwards towards the top floor suites. 

"I...sorry." Quinn spoke through a sigh. "I am...I'm really sorry."

Maddie smiled, her cheek laying against his head ever so slightly to give him that brief moment of unashamed comfort. "We've all been there, Quinn, it's fine! You'll feel better in the morning."

"I don't...think....I doubt it," he replied, causing Maddie to stifle a laugh. His deep, full-bodied sighs were the only sound beyond the dings from the floors the elevator was passing.  The chateau's top floor opened up to the two of them and she let Quinn step out at his own pace. Naturally, his room would be at the other end of the hall but she never once rushed him. It didn't matter if it took five minutes or fifteen, she'd let him stop whenever he needed to collect himself. 

"Do you...have...do you have my key?" He asked, feeling around in his pocket. His voice was getting deeper, more monotone. Was he getting more relaxed or just on the verge of falling asleep? 

"Yes, Quinn, I have your key."

"Oh, okay."

The lock clicked and with the weighted door pushed open, Maddie would insist Quinn go in first. He put one hand on the door, then the other on the wall and felt his way inside while Maddie stayed close behind; her fingertips hovering just behind the center of his back. He'd find his way safely to the edge of the bed and flopped down with another heavy sigh, laying on his back.

"I'm sorry," Quinn continued to apologize, his hands covering his eyes. "I'm...I'm really sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she added, hanging up his jacket. "Do want some help getting into bed?"

"Yes, please. Wait, no, yeah...I don't know."

Maddie smiled though Quinn never saw it. She stood there just looking at him have an existential crisis in real time. "Come on, let me help you or else you're just going to lay there all night in your suit."

"I'm fine."

"Quinn." Maddie said, her brows raised.

"Okay." He was just being a big kid at this point but she found it cute. She'd get his shoes untied and him pulled back up to a seated position. His little legs didn't reach the floor and she'd find Quinn kicking his sock feet when she turned back around. 

Quinn's golden eyes just looked at her while she slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt. "Have I told you...that I think....that you're really pretty?"

Maddie tried not to look at him, not out of embarrassment, but because she, too, wanted to get back to her room and if she looked at him every time he said something adorable, she'd be there all night. However, when he brought a hand up to stop her from undoing another button, she had no choice.

"Have I? Because you...because you are." The natural sincerity in his words touched her, drunk or not. The look in his eyes said nothing but the truth. 

"You have, a couple times, yes," she smiled, his hand still holding on to both of hers. "That's very sweet of you."

Finally, the childlike joy flashed in his eyes again and he mirrored her smile, "Okay...okay good. Someone should...you should be told that." 

"Alright, Prince Charming, can I finish what I'm doing?" Maddie winked.

"You're trying to get me...you're taking my clothes off! You're...you want me naked, huh?"

This time she couldn't help but snort, she laughs so hard. Quinn just looks at her wide eyed and serious; almost shocked thinking he got her intentions correct. 

"I knew it! Here, I'll...I'll help you!"

"Quinn it's fine! I--," but before she could finish her sentence, he started fussing with his belt but clumsy fingers couldn't conquer the buckle. 

"I can't...I'm stuck...in my pants. Wow..."

Shaking her head she'd finally finish with the last remaining buttons of his shirt while he hung his head in what appeared to be the most self-defeating shame. She was, however, able to get him to his feet just long enough to get him out of his pants, leaving him wobbly there in a t-shirt and his underwear. 

"Okay, bedtime," Maddie said, giving his back a little tap. 

"Okay," he yawned, shuffling a few feet towards the turned back covers. Once he was under the blankets she put his phone on the charger but not before putting her number in his contacts, just in case.

"If you need anything, you can call me, alright? Do you remember my name?" 

"Maddie?"

"Mhm, so if you need anything, just call, okay?"

"Thank you," Quinn said, giving her one of his bashful grins from earlier in the evening. 

Maddie, standing next to him held her hair back before leaning forward to place a soft kiss to his forehead. Quinn smiled wider, snuggling deeper beneath the blankets after she turned off the light. "Good night, Prince Charming."

"Good night, Maddie. It was...I'm glad that...it was really nice to meet you." 

"It was lovely to meet you, too, Quinn. Get some sleep, okay?"

"Thank you, you too."

In the darkness of the room Maddie smiled, before turning away from her not-so secret admirer. Once the door closed behind her, she hoped he'd be alright through the night. She felt that after some good sleep he'd bounce back to his old self which was a thought that she held for herself as well. And with said thought, Maddie returned to her own room, two floors down from Quinn's, instead of returning to the reception. 

Maddie's room was much smaller than Quinn's suite, but seeing as she could only stay the one night, it was for the best, plus, she didn't have NHL money to afford the twenty-five-hundred-dollars a night charge. She undid the ankle straps of her stilettos, removed her jewelry, and slipped out of her dress. Having those heels off was such a relief but walking without them was terribly painful. 

The cold tile brought some relief, as she stood before the vanity removing her makeup. Hot steam rolled from the spa-like tub filling with water and fragrant scents behind her. By this point, it was well after 2am, and by her face in the mirror, she felt it. This bath would be well worth the wait. 

--

Forty minutes later, with her hair in a messy top-bun, Maddie stood there in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boyshorts. She was exhausted as she applied her skincare, yearning for the comforting embrace of her bed that was just around the corner. That was before her phone began to ring in the next room. There was only one person she could think of that would be calling her: Quinn. 

"Quinn?"

From the other end of the phone, a slight reverberation echoed with each word he struggled to speak. 

"I need you. Please."

"Okay, okay, I'll be there in a few minutes," she replied, worried. 

His line went dead and the phone call ended. Maddie didn't even bother putting on her leggings; just slipped on her white sneakers, grabbed her phone and sprinted down her own hallway to get to Quinn as fast as she could. The elevator took forever to open to her floor but at least it had been empty. Her acrylic nails tapped against the buttons, queuing Quinn's floor as she impatiently waited for the final stop. 

"610, 611, 612," Maddie whispered to herself, hoping she had remember the correct room number. Knocking lightly, she hoped he would hear her.

"I'm sorry," Quinn said, opening the door to her slowly. He was covered in sweat, his white shirt damp and his hair all in front of his eyes. 

"What's wrong?" No sooner had she reached for his shoulder, Quinn was turning away to stumble back to the bathroom. 

Dry heaves. The devil.

He had nothing left to lose, but his body was trying to convince him that if he didn't clear his system, he'd continue to be miserable. Maddie followed behind him, seeing him draped over the toilet, his shoulders rolled forward as his body tensed against each retching episode. 

"Oh, Quinn," she said under her breath. She knew his pain; dry heaves were almost worse than actually having to vomit: less painful. Maddie ran a washcloth beneath the cold tap and wrung it out before placing in on the back of his neck. His body shuddered against the sharp sensation which prompted her to run her hand up and down his spine for comfort and support. "You're okay." 

He started to sniffle when he pulled away, feeling awful both physically and about having her see him like this. Maddie would hand him a towel off the warmer and he buried his face in it immediately. Her sympathy for him was growing. He just looked like a little boy getting sick for the first time. 

"Want to try laying back down?"

He nodded. 

"Okay, come on, sweetheart," Maddie cooed, getting him to his feet. His fingers clung to her body without hesitation, unlike before. Now, he came off like he needed her; no longer bashful about being so close to her. "You sit right here, okay?" 

"I'll try," Quinn said, sitting back down on the edge of his bed a second time. She returned to his side with a bottle of water he had left out from earlier in the day. It wasn't full but it would serve its purpose.

"I need you to drink this, okay? Just little sips, alright?"

Quinn took the bottle and brought it to his lips several times; each time he pulled it away, he gasped for air slightly. He was still shaking; his shirt slightly damp from sweat. Maddie was standing directly in front of him, close enough for him to lean into her. When the bottle was nearly empty, Quinn reached out for her and pulled her into him; his head nestled directly between her breasts. She knew he didn't mean to be so forward, so she didn't push him away. 

"You'll be okay, Quinn, I promise," Maddie said softly, both hands lost in his hair. 

Eventually, he'd look up at her, the faint light from the harsh overhead bathroom fixture giving the bedroom enough illumination to see his expression. He looked so worried, so scared by everything going on with him in that moment. Maddie brushed the hair from his forehead; his eyelids fluttering closed each time she brushed them away. 

"Wanna lay back down?"

Quinn's brows pulled together, like he was unsure if he should or not. Maddie continued to play with his hair, her pointed nails raking against his scalp comfortably, 

"I don't want to get sick again." Quinn's voice was meek and solidified the notion that he was scared. 

"I don't think you will. I think your body knows now that everything is gone now. Let's try getting you back in bed, okay?"

He nods again, his arms falling away from her waist as she takes a step back to give him room to move, taking the bottle from him. Quinn slips back beneath the covers as Maddie covers him up to his chin. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"You're not leaving, are you?" He asked, seeing her turn away from him again. Maddie turn back, her eyes locking onto his face immediately. 

"Aw, Quinn you don't have to pout." The sight broke her heart, but she wondered if staying was really the best decision. However, looking at him beneath the covers, his dark eyes conveying immeasurable amounts of sadness, and that bottom lip. How dare he look so cute yet so heartbreakingly miserable. 

"I don't want you to go," he mumbled. 

"You're okay now, I promise."

"Please, stay?" Quinn pleaded again, this time with more emotion in his voice. 

Maddie's eyes pulled away from his face. The bed was an obvious King; too much for one person let alone two. Quinn hadn't come off like a guy who couldn't keep his hands to himself so what harm would it be to stay? 

"Okay, if you want me to say, I'll stay." She tried giving him a reassuring smile, but it didn't change his sorrowful expression. 

Climbing into the bed from the other side, Maddie got close enough to Quinn that if he needed her she was within arms reach. She didn't want to crowd him, they didn't know each other that way. Surely he'd understand, right? She'd let her eyes fall closed but they didn't remain closed for long. The feeling of Quinn's hand touching her bare leg made her flinch.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He mumbled. "I just...I didn't mean it, I just..."

Maddie didn't say anything, instead, she found his arm and followed it downward until her hand found his. Quinn gave hers a little squeeze, his heart falling back into its normal rhythm after his scare. It was all he had wanted in the end. They'd fall asleep hand-in-hand; Quinn's head facing Maddie's on their respective pillows. 

--

Hours later, way into morning, Maddie awoke to find Quinn snuggled up beside her. His stray curls had tickled her nose, pulling her from a comfortable slumber. He remained asleep as she did her best to carefully leave his side, ensuring he stayed asleep. Afterall, it was Quinn who needed to recover from the wild night of drinking, not her. 

Quiet as she could, Maddie laced up her shoes, grabbed her phone and redid her hair before slipping out of the room. She tugged at the hem of the shirt she wore as she walked, and even though it fell just below her backside, she wasn't at a frat house; this was a luxury resort... She felt dirty, like she was walking a modified walk-of-shame. Had Quinn been awake she might have asked to borrow a pair of his sweatpants or something but that just didn't happen. Maybe she could play it off like she had been in the gym or something, but though she wasn't sweating or out of breath, it might just look like a big lie. 

Thankfully for Maddie, there was no one around. Everyone still seemed to be sleeping off their hangovers which kept the halls and elevators empty. Once back inside her room, everything was like she had left it in her frantic leaving some hours prior. The lights were still on, her bed was still made, even the containers of skincare remained open and strewn about the counter like she was in the process of applying it. Looking at the mess, she couldn't believe she had just dropped everything for a guy she had just met. Granted, the way Quinn had sounded and what he had said, it had conveyed urgency. She'd spend the next hour packing and preparing to head back to Vancouver. 

--

It was the headache that had woken Quinn up. 

The curtains were still drawn, his phone was silent, and he was alone. He didn't dream about everything that had happened the night before, had he? He had met Maddie, and gotten sick, and had begged her to stay, right? They went to bed together, too? Where was she now, he wondered. Clawing his way up to rest his body weight on his forearms, he looked around the room, but there was no sign of her; no sound but the gentle whistle of the air conditioner. 

Quinn sighed, pinching his eyes shut before the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand grabbed his attention.

--

Connor: Hey bud (10:38am)

Connor: You alive? (10:38am)

Connor: Just checking in 

Didnt see you again after leaving you with maddie (10:39am)

Quinn: Yeah, I'm alive. (10:40am)

Connor: Thats good

She treat you alright? ;) (10:42am)

Quinn: Yeah, I'm pretty sure I made an ass of myself, though. 

She's the only reason I made it back to my room this morning. (10:45am)

Connor: ooooh ;) (10:45am)

Quinn: It was nothing like that. (10:47am)

Connor: Well damn, lol

You get sick? (10:48am)

Quinn: Yes. (10:49am)

Connor: On her? (10:54am)

Quinn: No, but I have a feeling I said some things I shouldn't have. (10:56am)

Connor: Oh im sure shes okay (10:58am)

Quinn: Hopefully. 

I need to get up and shower. What are you guys doing today? (11:01am)

Connor: Sounds good

Come meet us downstairs for brunch (11:09am)

Quinn: I'll see you in a few. (11:11am)

--

Quinn let his phone from his hand into the duvet as he laid on his back once his conversation with Connor had concluded. He had no strength to get out of bed and get in the shower, though he knew the hot water would likely bring him some comfort. Several minutes passed before he finally threw the covers aside and left the warm embrace of the linens. 

Before he made it to the bathroom, in the small closet area, Quinn noticed his suit hung up and his dress shoes on the rack below it. He hadn't expected to see everything so nice, so tenderly cared for. Maddie really had taken care of him from the moment she had met him. Normally, he would have smiled to himself at such a kindness, but instead Quinn found himself with an opposite emotion. He should have been able to do everything she had done for him on his own. Instead, he was ashamed of everything and dreaded hearing of anything he didn't remember. 

Hanging his head, Quinn entered the bathroom and hoped the hot steam would erase his lingering shame. 

--

"Maddie! You're not leaving us, are you?" Sarah, the bride of the whole affair said, seeing her best friend walking past their private, outdoor dining area. The chateau had no shortage of stunning views, outdoor patios, and grand interior decorating. Maddie was sad to be leaving after essentially just arriving, and considering she hadn't even turned back the blankets of her bed, it was shame to just pack up and leave, but she had other obligations. 

Maddie stopped and gave a sorrowful expression to her childhood friend. "I've gotta get back to the city, babe!"

"Not even for brunch and mimosas? You literally just got here!" Sarah got up from her table and made her way to where Maddie had stopped. They met in a hug and Sarah hoped she could still convince her friend to stay just a little longer. 

"Yeah, I know, and I want to stay, but I just have so much to do. It was so hard for me to even get yesterday off! I have over a dozen appointments a day right now. I'm working twelves just to make my numbers." 

Sarah pouted, both because she hadn't been convincing enough and also because she hated to hear how over-worked her bestie was. "Well, we'll have to meet up sometime when you have a minute. I miss you, girlie!"

"I miss you, too!" Maddie responded, giving Sarah another loving hug. 

"You be careful! Text me when you get home, please!"

"Oh, absolutely, I'd like that. And Connor, you take care of her for me!" Maddie threatened playfully. Connor returned comments of assurance before giving his well-wishes as well. She didn't like goodbyes, but thankfully they were all around Vancouver and it was easy enough to make plans. Maddie would just have to survive wedding season first. 

"Well, we'll let you go! Please, be careful!"

"I will. Love you," Maddie said, with one final goodbye.

"We love you, too!"

Before Maddie left, Connor left the table to give her his personal farewells. His hug was tighter than Sarah's but it came with a meaning.

"Hey, thanks for taking care of Quinn the other night. I appreciate it."

Maddie pulled away, and looked upon his face with confusion. "He told you about that?"

"Yeah, and he was pretty embarrassed. I just wanted to thank you. I don't think anyone else would have done that."

She gave him a slight nod, a silent agreement between the two of them. Maddie waved back to the table once they parted ways and turned back towards the direction of the main lobby. At the same time she was leaving, Quinn rounded the corner and stopped when he saw her. Those legs, bare beneath the pale, floral sundress she was wearing; the same ones he vaguely remembered touching by accident. The dread came flooding in once again, remembering bits and pieces of things he had done that morning. She was leaving and he found himself feeling sad yet he was unable to do anything but watch her go. It was only after she was out of sight that he forced himself to walk again.

"Ah, there he is!" Connor teased, seeing Quinn finally darken the patio doorway. "You just missed Maddie. You know, if you hurry you might be able to apologize to her before she leaves."

Quinn looked down and sighed. It would take him a second to take his seat at their table. 

"It's alright, bud, we all do stupid shit around pretty girls sometimes."

Sarah gave her husband's arm a slight tap, "Baby! Don't tease him like that! That's not nice!" 

"Oh, he's fine, but you should have seen him, though. I don't think he blinked the whole time we stood there." 

"Connor! Stop it!" By now, Sarah was trying not to laugh. 

"Is she still dating the Henrik Lundqvist looking guy?" Connor asked, taking a slightly more serious turn with the conversation.

"Who, Jared? No, they split a year ago or something," Sarah recollected before taking a sip of her champagne drink. "I couldn't stand that guy. He was a pretentious asshole."

"Wasn't he a lawyer or something?"

"I think so, yeah. I mean, I know what she saw in him, but Christ. She's better off."

"Now's your chance, Quinny! Next year, it's your wedding we'll be going to if you play your cards right!" 

"Ha, yeah, okay," he mumbled, his eyes scanning the morning's specials instead of interacting directly with the couple.

"I don't see Quinn the type to get engaged and married within a year," Sarah said, looking upon the young man with a smile, a hint of mischief in her eyes. Of course, she'd love to see her best friend find a great guy to be with, but she wasn't sure if Quinn was that fit either. 

"I don't know, you should have seen how he looked at her, babe. It looked like love at first sight to me." 

"I'm sitting right here," Quinn said in a huff, starting to get annoyed with the constant berating. 

"Alright, alright! Fair enough," Connor chuckled.

Quinn's mind was racing like his heart in his chest. He still felt terrible about everything he had done, that other people knew, and that Maddie's opinion of him was probably terrible. He'd sit with Connor and Sarah through brunch, mostly hearing them talk, occasionally including him when needed. His mind was elsewhere: replaying the night before, wondering what he could do to rectify the past situation, and wondering if he'd ever see the tall brunette that called him Prince Charming, again. 

After brunch, Quinn would remember that he had her phone number. By then, however, she would be hitting  

--

Quinn: Hey, I'm really sorry about last night. 

I hope I didn't do anything to offend you last night. (1:15pm)

Quinn: I feel awful about everything. 

You were very kind to me, through everything. (1:25pm}

Quinn: I'm sorry if I'm rambling and bothering you. (1:27pm)

Quinn: I'd love to make it up to you, if you'd let me. (1:31pm)

Quinn: I know you're busy with work right now, but if you have some free time, may I take you to dinner sometime? (1:33pm)

Quinn: I'm sure you're still driving.

Sorry to keep messaging you. (1:37pm)

Maddie: You don't have anything to apologize for. <3 I'm just hoping you're feeling better! (2:45pm)

Maddie: Dinner sounds nice, but you don't have to do that just because you're sorry. (2:45pm)

Quinn: I'm tired, but I'm okay. Thank you. Did you make it home okay? (2:46pm)

Quinn: I am sorry about my actions, but I honestly would like to take you out. Genuinely. (2:46pm)

Maddie: :) You're sweet!

And yes, just got in, thanks. (2:53pm)

Quinn: That's good. (2:55pm)

Quinn: Hope you have a good afternoon and evening. (3:25pm)

Maddie: Sorry! My phone died! I didn't realize what my battery was on! D: (3:50pm)

Quinn: It's okay. (3:51pm)

Maddie: I'll let you know by the end of the week what my schedule looks like.

I'm already a day behind so I've a lot of catching up to do! :/ 

Where do you want to go for dinner? ;) (3:55pm)

Quinn: No rush. It sounds like a lot.

How do you feel about sushi? (3:58pm)

Maddie: It's my favourite! :D 🩷🩷🩷(4:05pm)

Quinn: Mine, too. 

I'll make it up to you, I promise. (4:09pm)

Maddie: Nothing to make up for, Quinn. <3 Promise. 

Take it easy, okay? (4:12pm)

Quinn: Okay, I'll try. 

Have a good evening. (4:19pm)

I really worked hard on this daydream; days of brainstorming and note making. I hope at least one of you enjoys it. c: I can't guarantee a consistent posting schedule but I will do my best to get a couple out each month, as they tend to be a little on the longer side.

If you have any requests for stand-alone blurbs, please don't hesitate to reach out in my Asks.

[mim16s]

Survival in game

Hello everyone, sorry for taking so many days to post an update. I was sick and couldn’t write, but I’ll try to be more active from now on. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

A part of this chapter may be a trigger for some people , for there is heavy violence against the reader and bad memories that will be explained in an upcoming chapter.

Materialist

Part 3

The atmosphere still carried a heavy tension, even after the game had ended. The imminent threat of death had lessened, but the feeling of unease lingered. You looked at Hyun-ju, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. Words seemed insufficient to express the gratitude for both of you being alive.

— What are you thinking? — Hyun-ju asked, curious. — You've been looking at me for a while... Something on your mind?

You looked away, trying to organize the whirlwind of thoughts, especially during tense situations.

— I'm just happy you're alive. — Your voice came out calm but carried a sincerity that made Hyun-ju smile. You couldn't help but smile back, an almost automatic reaction. — I can't wait to get out of here. Do you think we'll have enough votes to end it for now? — you asked, and she seemed anxious, remaining silent for a moment.

— Maybe we'll leave today — she said softly.

— When we get out, I want you to meet my mom she will love you. I'll cook something nice for us — your voice was enthusiastic, momentarily forgetting the situation and thinking about meeting Hyun-ju in a different place.

— I'd like that — she smiled. — I didn't know you cooked.

— Well, I'm not a chef or anything, but I can make some tasty food.

— It's a deal, then — Hyun-ju said.The conversation was interrupted by a voice from another bed in the dormitory.

— Can I ask you something? — The older woman, with her son beside her, got your attention.

— Sure. — Hyun-ju responded politely, though you noticed a tension in her posture.— When you were playing jegi, why did you ask us not to look?Hyun-ju looked away, staring at the floor for a few seconds. The discomfort was palpable, and you wanted to offer support but didn't know how. Your mind raced, trying to find the right way to encourage her, but the words seemed stuck as usual.

— It's because I... — Hyun-ju began, but the woman interrupted.

— Shy? — the woman asked innocently. — Is that why?

— No, I'm not shy. It's just... I'm not finished...

— Finished what? — The woman's curiosity seemed insatiable.

— Mom, stop. — Yong-sik intervened, holding his mother's arm with evident desperation. — Stop asking so many questions.

— It's okay. — Hyun-ju tried to calm the situation. — It's just... I have more surgeries to go, and when people stare at me, I...You saw Hyun-ju's insecurity. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you slid your hand near hers, trying to convey comfort. Hyun-ju looked at you, and the small connection seemed to give her a bit more strength.

— Surgeries? Oh, so that's an implant, right? — The older woman said, realizing something but still not noticing Hyun-ju's discomfort. — I thought they were big...

She raised her hands as if to touch Hyun-ju's chest, but before she could continue, Yong-sik interrupted again, visibly embarrassed.

— Stop, mom! Don't touch her!

Relief came as more people entered, interrupting the conversation. You felt a little lighter seeing more people had survived, but not everyone felt the same, as you noticed the purple-haired man's group upset that more people had made it.

The masked soldiers entered. The tension returned as they began announcing the game results. Voices of indignation rose as people demanded a recount of the prize. But for you, the money no longer mattered. All you wanted was to leave that place and return to your mom. You looked at Hyun-ju, wishing to see her far from this hell.

As the voting started, your heart raced. Each vote was a stab of anxiety. You watched Yong-sik switch sides, pressing the "O" to continue. His mother's look of disappointment was hard to ignore. Your eyes met Hyun-ju's. Would she vote to continue too? She voted "O" before... No, she promised this would be the last time.

Your turn came. You walked to the panel, each step felt heavier. Without hesitation, you pressed the red "X," determined not to continue. You returned to the "X" side, your eyes fixed on Hyun-ju, waiting for her decision with your heart in your throat.

When her turn came, Hyun-ju walked to the panel. You watched, your body tense, your mind racing. Doubt was written on her face, but then, she pressed "O." The sound of the button being pressed seemed to echo in your head, drowning out every other noise around you. Your breath caught in your throat, and a wave of betrayal washed over you. You had agreed this would be the last game. Why would she lie? Your eyes filled with tears, the pain becoming almost unbearable.

She turned, and your eyes met. When Hyun-ju saw the pain and betrayal in your gaze, the realization of what she'd done hit her hard. She understood that her decision, based on her own needs and struggles, hadn't considered how deeply it would affect you. She had only thought of her debts, her unfinished transition, but now, seeing the pain in your eyes, the weight of her choice seemed unbearable.The voting continued, but everything around you became a blur. The voices of people debating whether to continue the game or not felt distant, almost unreal. The final result appeared: 23 votes difference. The games would continue. You stood up, walking slowly back to your bed. Each step felt drained of energy, each movement a struggle. You felt the eyes on you but had no strength to lift your head. You knew Hyun-ju was watching you, but the weight of disappointment was too heavy to face.

As meals were distributed, you remained still. The hunger had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming emptiness. Then, a pair of hands appeared before you, one holding a piece of bread, the other a liter of milk. You looked up slowly. It was Hyun-ju. She avoided your eyes, her expression filled with sadness.

— I noticed you didn't get any, so... I brought this for you. — Her voice was low, almost a whisper, filled with hesitation. You remained still, unwilling to take the food. — Please, eat something. You need to keep your strength up for tomorrow.

— I don't want to eat. — You murmured, your voice barely audible, reflecting your inner struggle.Hyun-ju placed the food beside you, letting out a heavy sigh.

— I'll leave it here... in case you change your mind. — She hesitated, her voice trembling with emotion. — I'm sorry for lying to you. I...

Before she could continue, Yong-sik and Geum-ja approached, breaking the tense moment.

— But I wasn't the only one who voted to continue. Look! Someone else voted for the circle, see? Look there — Yong-sik pointed at Hyun-ju as he spoke.

— Why did you do it? — Geum-ja asked, her voice filled with disappointment. — After promising we would eat together, why did you change your mind?—She said, mentioning a conversation you had before, where she had invited you to visit her house.—Is it because of your surgeries? Are they that expensive?

Hyun-ju remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor. The words seemed trapped, but finally, she spoke, her voice breaking under the weight of her memories.

— Everything was... fine until I revealed who I really am. People thought I was strange, but that wasn't a problem. — Her voice trembled, each word a painful effort. — But after I said I wanted to be a woman and went through my transition... everything fell apart. My mom cried, my dad rejected me. I got fired and lost my friends. I need the surgeries, but I have no job, no money. I felt free, but... my life became unbearably hard.

You lifted your face, the initial anger starting to dissipate in light of her raw words. The weight of what she was carrying became clear. Despite the pain you felt, you began to understand. Hyun-ju wasn't just fighting for money, but for her own survival and dignity.

— Oh my... and what did you do for work? — Geum-ja asked, now with a softness in her voice.

— I was a soldier. — Hyun-ju replied, the weight of the revelation making Yong-sik's mouth fall open in surprise. You were a bit surprised, seeing the sweet woman Hyun-ju is, that job hadn't crossed your mind, but remembering how she acted in the game and how she handled the game's environment kind of made sense.

— And what will you do when you get out of here? — Geum-ja asked curiously.

— I'm going to Thailand. — The determination in her voice was clear, conveying hope. — I'll play one more game, have the surgeries there, buy a house... and start a new life.

Your heart ached. Thailand? She would go so far away? Maybe you'd never see her again.

— I've been to Thailand. — Yong-sik said, trying to lighten the mood. — There are many people like Hyun-ju there, you know? Seriously, and many are much slimmer and prettier than a lot of women I've seen. It's amazing.

— They say people there are much prettier. — Hyun-ju said.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to speak. Your voice came out trembling but full of sincerity.

— You're beautiful. It was the first thing I thought when I saw you.

Hyun-ju lifted her gaze, happy that you spoke to her and by your words, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Your words hit her with a force she didn't expect. After everything she'd been through, hearing that from you was like a balm to her soul. She held back her tears, feeling the warmth of your words filling the emptiness in her heart. For the first time in a long time, she felt seen, not as a freak, but as who she truly was.

___

The time for lights out was approaching, and a growing discomfort took hold of you. You felt a penetrating gaze that made your skin prickle, as if something invisible was pressing down on you. Your eyes scanned the room until they found the man with purple hair. He was staring at you with an almost suffocating intensity, his eyes fixed on you in a way that seemed to strip you bare, layer by layer. It was as if he were piercing through all your barriers with a single look.

Your heart raced, and the air seemed heavier. You tried to look away, thinking that maybe if you did, he would stop staring at you that way.

— Can we talk? — Hyun-ju's voice sounded beside you, pulling you back to reality. You turned to her, now alone as the woman and her son had left. You still felt the weight of that gaze on your back. The hairs on your arms stood on end, as if sensing something bad.

— Yes, of course. — Your voice came out more tense than you intended. You tried to focus on Hyun-ju, but the discomfort persisted, like a constant shadow.Hyun-ju took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the floor.

— I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made promises I couldn't keep. I was wrong, and I'm sorry.

You observed her posture, visibly dejected.

— Hyun-ju, I understand that you're seeking your happiness. But I won't lie, your actions hurt me. I don't want to continue in this game, but I also can't force you to leave. I can't completely judge you because I don't face the same challenges you do. But I understand the pain of people distancing themselves.

You paused, searching for the right words.

— I've never had many friends. In school, the few I managed to make distanced themselves, afraid of also becoming targets of bullying, like I was. I know what it's like to feel empty.

Hyun-ju raised her eyes, slightly widened, speechless.

— I voted to stay, but I will protect you. I made a promise to myself and I won't break it. As long as I breathe, I'll be by your side. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you and I promise this will be the last time I vote to continue..

You nodded, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders.

— Alright. Just... please, don't lie again. I don't like lies.

The silence that followed was heavy, but it brought a strange sense of relief, as if the two of you were finally beginning to understand each other, despite everything. You scanned the room with your eyes until you found the man with purple hair. He was watching you with an almost overwhelming intensity, piercing through every layer of your being. He motioned to a man standing beside him, who looked at you and then laughed along with him.The lights finally went out, and you turned in bed, trying in vain to find sleep. The darkness should have brought relief, but the thought of the deadly game waiting for you the next morning wouldn't leave you alone. Anxiety tightened around your throat, making each breath harder. And now, the pressure in your bladder started to torment you. There was no way you'd be able to wait until dawn. So, quietly, you got up, trying not to wake anyone—but just as you were about to leave, your hand was grabbed.

— Where are you going? — Hyun-ju asked, still sleepy, blinking slowly. She woke up as soon as your feet hit the floor, as if she were connected to you. She almost laughed, but the weight of the night didn’t allow it.

— I need to go to the bathroom — you whispered, trying not to disturb anyone else.

— I’ll go with you. It could be dangerous — Hyun-ju replied, getting up, but you interrupted her.

— It’s okay, go back to sleep. Nothing will happen. I’ll just go to the bathroom and come back quickly — you tried to reassure her. She hesitated at first but eventually nodded, still reluctant.

Hyun-ju saw you walking toward the bathroom door. She noticed the brief exchange with the guard before you entered, and then, a few minutes later, She saw two more people getting up to go to the bathroom. A bad feeling settled in her stomach, but she tried to ignore it. Maybe it was just her mind exaggerating, she thought.

Inside the bathroom, time seemed to crawl. The sound of water running was a constant in your mind. Then, you felt, cold and relentless, the presence of someone behind you. Your hairs stood up instantly.

— I’ve waited so long to find you alone, but that friend of yours never leaves your side. It was irritating — the man’s voice sounded low and threatening. You turned and saw him, the man who had been watching you earlier. Panic spread quickly through your body, but you tried to remain calm. Something was wrong, and this shouldn’t be happening.

— This is the women’s bathroom. You shouldn’t be here — you said, stepping as far away from him as possible. But he didn’t seem to care.

— Meu amigo e eu queremos mais votos para continuar jogando, então esse "x" ali precisa sair — disse Namgyu, que surgiu por trás do homem de cabelos roxos pressionando o dedo contra o tecido, a força causando uma leve ardência na pele.

— I just want to leave. Accept that — you replied, your tone firm but tense, trying to assert your opinion.— Oh, look at that, seems like we've got a brave one here — Thanos mocked, laughing.

— Do we need to teach this bitch a lesson so she learns some manners, man? — Namgyu asked, and Thanos grinned, stepping closer. His imposing figure became even more intimidating as he shoved you hard. You stumbled, nearly falling, fear growing in your eyes.

— Please, stop this. Just let me go — you pleaded, your voice trembling.

— Are you going to vote to keep playing the next game? — he asked, getting no response. He chuckled, raising his hand and delivering a hard slap. You fell to the ground, your face burning with a red mark as tears streamed down.

— I bet after this lesson, you'll change your mind — Namgyu said, kicking your stomach. The pain made you double over, powerless against their violence. Tears rolled down as you tried to defend yourself, but it was futile. The pain and humiliation brought back memories of your teenage years, of bullying, of cruel laughter.Suddenly, the kicking stopped. When you opened your eyes, you saw Hyun-ju, delivering precise blows. Namgyu and Thanos tried to fight back, but it was useless. She was relentless, only stopping when they were beaten and scared enough not to try anything else. They fled, leaving the bathroom in a panic

Your body was shaking, your head was spinning, and you just wanted to disappear. The sensation was unbearable. The memories of bullying from years ago flooded back, the recollection of being cornered behind the school while your classmates beat you. What Namgyu and Thanos did was the breaking point. You felt utterly out of control.

You hit your head against the wall, trying to turn the psychological pain into physical pain, something more bearable. But soon, you felt something different. A gentle hand held your head, but you still couldn’t stop. Your movements seemed frantic, and she held you with a little more force, interrupting the frantic rhythm of your head against the wall and your hand. When you looked, you saw Hyun-ju in front of you, her eyes worried, but her voice still seemed distant, muffled by the pain.

— It’s okay, not here anymore, it’s me. It’s over, it’s okay — Hyun-ju said, trying to calm you down. Her voice still seemed distant, but her presence was everything you needed at that moment.

She hugged you, holding you tightly, whispering words of comfort as her tears soaked your shoulder. But there was no peace. The weight of it all was still on you, and the feeling of helplessness continued to consume you. Your mind was in a dark place, and every word from Hyun-ju seemed to echo as if it were another reality, one you couldn’t reach. You tried to calm down, but you couldn’t. Your breathing was fast, your mind racing, your body paralyzed by anxiety.You felt your body slowly relaxing, but the feeling of helplessness didn’t go away. Your voice was weak when you spoke.

— I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want to go home... — Your voice came out dragged, weak, as if each word was a monumental effort.Hyun-ju hugged you tighter, as if she could protect you from all of that, from everything that had happened and was still happening. But the pain, the guilt, she couldn’t dissipate the regret stamped on her face.

—I know... I'm sorry...— she said, the weight of guilt heavy in her words. Thoughts swirled in her mind—if only she hadn’t voted in that circle, none of this would have happened. If only she had insisted on going with you to the bathroom, Thanos and Namgyu would never have had the chance to approach you. She blamed herself, but you could no longer think about what could have been; it all felt irrelevant. It didn’t matter what might have been, what could have changed. The pain was here now, and nothing else made sense. You gave in to the pain, crying against her as she wrapped you in her jacket, trying to warm you, shield you, protect you, even if she didn’t know if it was possible.

Hyun-ju tried to stop you from hurting yourself, holding your hands that were scratching, trying to substitute the head hits, but it was as if you were trapped in an endless cycle. She held you tighter, her hands now trying to hold you with all the energy she had, as if she could stop the pain from continuing. Her words of comfort came in a constant flow, but you could hardly hear them. All you could feel was the agony inside you.

— I don’t know what else to do... — Hyun-ju murmured to herself, her voice cracking with frustration, with the despair of not being able to help you.

She felt her own impotence, felt like she was failing you in every possible way. Her face was pale, silent tears falling down her face as well. She didn’t know what else to do, but she kept trying, insisting on holding you as if it were possible to bring you back to your body, she didn’t know what else to do, but she wouldn’t leave you alone. She didn’t want you to go through this without someone by your side. Time seemed to stretch, as if the crisis would never end, and she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to bear seeing you like this.She whispered, repeatedly, almost pleading.

— I’m here... Please, listen to me... You’re not alone... I’m here... I won’t leave you...

[yparkwrites]

MR. DETECTIVE S.JY FF

Pairing: Detective Jake x Female reader (Y/N)

Content warnings: explicit content (smut), blood, murder, killing and more to be added

Word count: 27.6k

Synopsis: Jake is a known detective, as they transfered the case to his unit of a serial killer, Y/n a police rookie will arrive to find the truth about her brother's death and unbeknownst to them, the serial killer has been with them from the start.

Publish date: January 6, 2025

Son of the mob P.SH FF Completed

MR. DETECTIVE S.JY FF COMPLETED

Notes: I'm sorry it took me a long time to put this up on tumblr, I got sick and was on bed rest for almost the whole month of february and I'm still trying to get as much as rest as I can, the whole book is published on wattpad, just click MR. DETECTIVE S.JY FF COMPLETED to read it.

© 2025 Y. PARK WRITES. All Rights Reserved.

tags: @strxwbloody @dreamiestay @fancypeacepersona @heeaxvhhoon @jakeswife @evjirvninvitnvrnvirivn @candypopinluv

CHAPTER 10 - 12

CHAPTER 13

1

“Hello, is anyone there?” Y/n called out, approaching the dark alley, not caring about the danger around there. “Is anyone there?” Y/n called out a bit louder. “If someone is here stop messing around, this is a police matter, come out now or else there will be repercussions,” Y/n said.

“And what are the repercussions,” someone asked from behind her, there was a figure watching her, them, as they investigated the scene. Y/n couldn’t see well because of how dark the alley is not until she turned on her flashlight, her eyes widening, seeing who has been watching them this entire time. Before she could utter a word someone covered her mouth, until darkness took over her surroundings. 

“Damn, I’ve been waiting for this moment,” the unknown man said, caressing her face. 

“Sir Jay, what do you want to do now?” his assistant asked. 

“Take her to the car,” Jay responded, admiring Y/n’s passed out state.

His assistant went over to carry Y/n and as he was about to carry her Jay groaned in pain.

“Sir, are you okay?” his assistant asked.

Jay didn’t respond as he grasped his aching head, blur visions appearing in his mind. 

“Fuck, leave her, let’s go home,” Jay groaned in pain, struggling to stand up. 

Jay followed behind his assistant clutching his head, thinking no one was gonna see him. Heeseung looked in his direction, seeing him flee the scene. 

“Damn this fucking head!” Jay groaned loudly. 

“Maybe you need more rest sir, could be jet lag,” his assistant told him. 

“I don’t need a fucking rest, what I need is that girl!” Jay yelled. 

“We could’ve taken her, but you told me to leave her,” his assistant reasoned.

Who the fuck are you Park Y/n? Jay asked himself, closing his eyes.

2

The next day

“If they’re gonna kidnap her why didn’t they take her?” Riki asked Heeseung, confused.

“I don’t know, but I hope she’s fine now.” Heeseung replied.

“I’ve seen Y/n once, in Jay’s party, the first time he threw a big one, he scolded his sister for coming out of her room, cause guys tried hitting on her not knowing she’s a minor, I can’t imagine what Jay would think if he finds out Jake hit on his little sister,” Riki replied back to him.

“I don’t see the relevance in our conversation nor our investigation but now I’m curious what she was like,” Heeseung rebutted. 

“Like I said I only met her once, but she was definitely bubbly, she wasn’t like this, she smiled a lot during the time I met her, Jay introduced her to me, she was smiley.” Riki asserted, shrugging his shoulders.

“Did you see her during the burial or the funeral of Jay, I didn’t know how she looked back then,” Heeseung replied to Riki.

“I did, now that you reminded me of that, she didn’t speak to anyone, didn’t utter a word, she was just staring blankly at the closed casket in front of her, Jake tried talking to her but she was just staring blankly at the surroundings, I won’t even describe her state as broken she looked so lost that time,” Riki told Heeseung.

“She did lose her only family, or she might’ve thought,” Heeseung replied before showing Riki the screen of his computer. “We found Jay Lazio,” he added, Riki widening his eyes.

“We should tell Y/n then,” Riki replied a bit loud.

“No, and this stays between us, don’t tell anyone, don’t trust anyone with this information,” Heeseung ordered Riki. 

“What about the others?” Riki asked.

“You can inform Jungwon, Sunoo, Jake and Sunghoon once he’s back, but never ever inform the general about this,” Heeseung said sharply.

3

Jake laid Y/n in their shared bed, tucking her in. 

“Are you going to work?” Y/n asked quietly, fiddling with her fingers. 

“Do you want me to?” Jake replied.

“No, don’t leave, stay with me,” Y/n replied quietly, tapping the bed beside her.

Jake laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her.

“Jay is alive all this time,” Y/n whispered.

“ He is, that motherfucker didn’t even inform us he has nine lives.” Jake replied back, earning a playful smack from Y/n. “I was just kidding,” he mumbled, pulling Y/n closer to him.

“Jake, promised me you’ll never leave me whatever happens,” Y/n said.

“I promise, not just to you but to God, I promise him to never leave your side,” Jake replied back, leaving a kiss on her forehead.

“If Jay ever witnesses this, you’ll be having your funeral the next day.” Y/n joked, making Jake laugh.

“He’s gonna resent me, for the rest of his life.” Jake added, stroking Y/n’s hair.

“I love you,” Y/n mumbled, drowsiness taking over her.

“I love you too, my angel,” Jake replied, watching as she slowly closed her eyes.

4

“Hmm” Jungwon sighs for the 20th time in the past 30 minutes, since his night shift started. 

“Jungwon this is the 20th time you’ve sighed, now what the fuck is wrong?” Riki asked, seriously annoyed.

“Nothing, it’s just that it’s been a year since I joined this department and we’re still working with this serial killer case, wasn’t it just for a year,” Jungwon replied, completely tired from working over and over again with the same files.

“It’s because our general transferred the other case to another department, that’s why they gave us another year to catch this serial killer,” Riki explained. “Y/n is weird these days,” Riki added.

“What do you mean?” Jungwon asked, looking at Y/n’s empty seat.

“Nothing, it’s just that she always looks very pale, she barely has energy like, she’s always in the bathroom,” Riki said, shutting off his computer.

“She does look sick these past few days, and I haven’t seen her husband in awhile,” Jungwon replied back.

After the incident of Y/n almost getting kidnapped by who they believe is Jay, her dead brother, Jake decided to take a month off from work to take care of Y/n. And after 7 months of dating, he decided to marry Y/n. 

On the other hand, Heeseung decided to hand the other case to another department to focus on the serial killer case, earning them another year to solve it. 

“Well I was out on a business trip Jungwon, that’s why you haven’t been seeing me,” Jake said, making an entrance to their department. 

“Welcome back,” Jungwon greeted, smiling.

“Thanks, where’s my wife?” Jake replied, looking around, trying to look for Y/n.

“Oh she called in sick this morning, and I think you have to bring her to the hospital. She looked very sick these past few days,” Riki replied.

“She didn’t tell me that, I would go home but I have work,” Jake replied quietly, rubbing his forehead. 

“Go get to your wife, we’ll be fine, we’ll call you once we have something.” Heeseung said from behind him. 

“Thanks, I’ll go see my wife,” Jake replied, before taking his leave.

5

“My love,” Jake called out, as soon as he got inside their home.

Looking around, he didn’t see his wife’s presence, which was weird. 

“Love,” Jake called out again.

“I’m in the kitchen!” Y/n finally yelled back, making Jake sigh in relief.

Jake walked towards the kitchen, where he found his wife cooking dinner and he loved this sight. He went over to his wife and gave her a back hug, nuzzling his nose on her neck.

“I missed you so much,” Jake mumbled. 

“I missed you too Jakey, come on get the table ready, let’s eat.” Y/n replied back.

“Mmm how about I eat you instead,” Jake whispered, teasingly.

“Love, I don’t feel really well,” Y/n whispered, turning around at her husband before giving him a peck on his lips.

“Should we go to the hospital?” Jake asked his wife worriedly.

“Maybe tomorrow if I still don’t feel well,” Y/n replied sheepishly at her husband, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. “I think I need to cuddle more than this meal,” she mumbled, making Jake chuckle.

“Yeah I think it’s late for dinner anyways, come on I’ll cuddle my sick angel,” Jake replied, carrying Y/n bridal style as he walked towards their bedroom.

“Next time, I’ll be carrying 2 angels,” Jake mumbled as he closed the door to their bedroom door.

CHAPTER 14

1

The next day Y/n woke up early, feeling nauseous again. 

“Is this what being pregnant feels like,” Y/n mumbled, coming out of the bathroom, smiling as she saw Jake sleeping peacefully. Just then her phone rang.

“Hey Jungwon, I don’t think I can -” Y/n said but before she could finish her sentence Jungwon cut her.

“Come here at the station now,” Jungwon said, quietly, making Y/n scrunch her forehead in confusion.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Just come here, now, don’t bring Jake, make sure he doesn’t follow you,” Jungwon replied, before hanging up.

Y/n looked at her phone seeing messages from Sunghoon telling her the same thing. She changed into her uniform quickly before driving to the station, not forgetting to leave Jake a note saying, “I went to the grocery store, wait for me before you leave or I’ll get mad”. A lie she wrote his husband.

As Y/n arrived at their department there were a lot of officers.

“What’s going on?” Y/n asked, confused on why there are a lot of officers from another department, including the head.

“Mrs. Sim, we have a warrant for your husband, do you know where he is?” The head of the station stated.

“Warrant? For what?” Y/n asked nervously. This can’t be happening, she thought to herself.

“Mrs. Sim, the serial killer you’ve been looking for is your husband, he murdered multiple victims in the past years, so if you don’t want to get detained, tell us your husband’s location,” Eunyeok replied, with the biggest smirk on his face.

“You can detain me, I won’t tell you where he is,” Y/n replied, looking at Sunghoon before nodding at her, understanding the situation.

“The fuck Y/n! Just tell us where he is!” Sunghoon yelled, acting betrayed. 

“You can kill me, I won’t tell you a thing,” Y/n replied.

2

“Jungwon listen to me, you’re gonna watch Y/n make sure they don’t hurt her,” Sunghoon ordered Jungwon.

“Where are you going? And what the fuck is she doing?” Jungwon asked Sunghoon quietly.

“She’s buying me time, to get Jake out of that damn house and for everything they have to do, just watch Y/n, I'll sneak her out in 5 hours, if I'm not here in 5 hours, sneak her out I’ll send you a location.” Sunghoon replied, before driving away, leaving Jungwon who ran back inside their department immediately. 

Entering their department Jungwon grabbed his car keys with him before putting it safely in his pocket.

“Heeseung I need your help,” Jungwon said quietly as he entered his office.

Heeseung went to reach into his drawer, handing him 2 guns. 

“This is Y/n’s and take this you’ll need it, be careful don’t get caught, I’ll cover for you don’t wait for another 5 hours,” Heeseung explained.

“You heard?” Jungwon asked.

“No, I know. Jay Lazio they have him, protect her from him, he doesn’t remember her and that department was paid by Lazio’s already, call Sunghoon tell him you’re sneaking her out now, don’t wait for 5 hours snuck her out now, you wait for 5 hours Lazio’s will take her,” Heeseung replied.

“Fuck,” Jungwon mumbled as he went out of his office immediately.

Jungwon ran to his car, dialing Sunghoon’s phone. 

“Answer Sunghoon,” Jungwon mumbled as he drove off.

“Jungwon I-” Sunghoon answered but Jungwon cut him off.

“Tell me the meeting location, Heeseung told me this is Lazio’s plan, they're gonna take Y/n,” Jungwon said in one breath.

“Fuck, I’ll text you the meeting location.” Sunghoon replied.

3

As Jungwon arrived at the other department he showed his id.

“I’m here to question Y/n on Jake’s whereabouts,” Jungwon said.

“You must be the officer Heeseung dispatched here,” the officer in front of him said.

“Yes, I’m officer Yang,” Jungwon replied.

“Come in, turn left you’ll find where she is,” the officer instructed him.

“Thank you,” Jungwon replied.

Jungwon walked fast to where he was instructed to go. Jungwon saw Y/n walking back and forth. Entering the room where Y/n is, Jungwon shushed Y/n before she could respond.

“We’re gonna go,” Jungwon said.

“Jungwon, I saw him, I saw my brother, he’s here, Jay is here,” Y/n said frantically.

“Y/n listen to me we have 10 minutes, and I have to sneak you out of here so listen to me carefully,” Jungwon replied.

“But my brother,” Y/n said, tears prickling in her eyes.

“That’s not your brother, he doesn’t remember you, Heeseung is covering for us so listen to me we have to go or they will take you and if they take you Jake will kill me, so come on let’s go,” Jungwon told Y/n quietly, handing her his hands that she gladly took.

Jungwon peaked outside the door to make sure no one saw them. Pulling Y/n out of the room they ran towards the back exit.

“The girl is escaping!” Someone yelled as soon as they got out.

“Y/n run!” Jungwon yelled as they ran together to his car. As soon as they arrived in front of his car another car in front of them, ready to shoot the driver, they sighed in relief.

“Get in!” Sunghoon yelled at them.

As soon as they got in, Sunghoon drove as fast as he could.

“Where is Jake?” Y/n asked.

“He’s safe, Jungwon you’re going with Y/n they saw you and it’s not safe if you go back.” Sunghoon replied.

“And you?” Jungwon asked.

“I’ll buy you time to escape. They can take me, but not Jake, I can’t let his baby grow up without a father, ” Sunghoon replied.

“Say what now!?” Jungwon asked.

“I’m pregnant,” Y/n replied.

“Sunghoon please come with us, let’s all escape together, we need you,” Jungwon said.

“If I don’t come back, it’ll be harder for us to escape, you need eyes there, and I’ll be your eyes, so Jungwon protect Y/n until you get him to Jake,” Sunghoon said, stopping in an empty road. “Take that car I put the location in already,” he added.

“Sunghoon,” Y/n whispered, tears coming out of her eyes.

“Everything will be fine,” Sunghoon replied, smiling at Y/n as tears pooled in his eyes.

Y/n hugged Sunghoon crying in his arms.

“Thank you for being my brother for a year, please don’t die, you have to come to us, my baby needs an uncle like you,” Y/n sobbed.

4

The car ride was quiet and it’s almost night already when they arrived, as Y/n saw Jake she jumped on him and hugged him like a koala. 

“Come on, we don't have time,” Jungwon said as he opened the door of the driver’s seat.

“Jungwon you’re not driving,” Y/n said.

“Then who is?” Jungwon asked.

“I’ll drive you two, go get some sleep, I’ll wake you up when I need to sleep.” Jake said, chuckling.

CHAPTER 15

1

“It wasn’t a set up, Heeseung!” Eunyeok yelled at Heeseung as detaining Y/n was a failure.

“Then what was it? Jay Lazio is your witness! Lazio’s son! How was it not a fucking set up!?” Heeseung yelled back at her brother, as they continued to argue in Eunyeok’s office.

“What the fuck do you know?” Eunyeok asked. “After stealing the real necklace to cover up that it was him who murdered that girl a year ago, now this! You let the wife of that serial killer run away because you think you know everything!” he added.

“I knew it was him, but Y/n was already in a lot of stress that day, I don’t want to add more things to her table, especially when she saw Jay that same night we found a girl shivering in terror that Lazio’s son would’ve killed him. You don’t fucking get it, Y/n suffered enough and I won’t let that happen again, specially when she’s fucking pregnant!” Heeseung yelled.

“I don’t care if she’s pregnant or what, but I want you to be responsible for your actions, we could’ve closed the case if you just didn’t let her leave and now that another officer is in trouble because of what you’ve done,” his brother argued back.

“And what proof do you have that Jake did it?” Heeseung asked.

“Jake isn’t as smart as you think he is, the last person he killed was in an alleyway with a CCTV camera and Jay Lazio was there that same night and he showed us a video of him killing that person,” Eunyeok replied. “It wasn’t a set up, now take full responsibility for it,” he added.

“And when are you going to take responsibility for Officer Park’s disappearance? You think people will be on your side if you catch the serial killer with officer park himself testifying in court?” Heeseung asked.

“Stop changing the topic,” Eunyeok argued, grabbing Heeseung by his collar.

“I will own up to my responsibility and I’ll make sure you own up to yours,” Heeseung replied, pushing his brother away as he left his office slamming the door shut.

2

Everyone glanced at Sunghoon as he entered the main office where 2 of the crime departments were called. 

“Why are they all looking at you?” Riki asked, as Sunghoon took his seat beside him.

“Because I was gone around the time Y/n escaped, they think I have something to do with it,” Sunghoon responded. 

“Where were you?” Riki asked. 

Sunghoon remained silent, watching as Mr. Kim stood in front of everyone.

“I didn’t know your father was giving us a lecture,” Sunghoon mumbled, diverting the topic to Sunoo.

“Shut up, he thought I had something to do with Y/n’s escape plan,” Sunoo responded, glaring at his own father.

“So as you all know the serial killer’s identity has been revealed to everyone here, well not just here but the public,” Sunoo’s father said, looking at everyone before continuing. “ The serial killer is none other than, Sim Jaeyun also known as Jake or in the public’s eye Mr. Detective, he was an officer for one year until he started taking his masters,” he added. “As his identity was revealed, he also disappeared together with his wife, Sim Y/n, at the time of their disappearance Yang Jungwon, another officer was seen with Y/n running away, escaping, with the help of chief Lee.” He continued. “I am suspending Lee Heeseung from his position as the chief and assigning my son Kim Sunoo as the new chief of their crime department, and Lee Heeseung will be charged as Sim Jaeyun’s acquaintance, any questions?” He explained.

Everyone looked at Sunoo who was shaking his head in disapproval of his father’s decision. 

“How was it getting paid by Lazios?” Sunghoon asked, loud enough for everyone to hear in the meeting room.

“Excuse me?” Sunoo’s father asked, as everyone looked at him shocked.

Sunghoon smirked, standing up. 

“Another body was just found while you were giving your meaningless speech up there, like you’re the next president, when you’re just another dog barking for Lazio,” Sunghoon replied, smirking at them.

Murmuring soon erupted in the quiet meeting room as the news of another body being found in a quiet alley.  

“That can’t be, Jake is gone,” Sunoo whispered.

“He could have had a partner,” Heeseung replied, as the quiet meeting room soon erupted with radio calls, asking for back ups.

3

“It doesn’t make any sense! Jake is gone, he’s somewhere not even god would know,” Eunyeok yelled at Heeseung, while he drank his favorite whiskey.

“Or they could’ve edited that damn CCTV footage,” Heeseung replied to his older brother smuggly, who’s sending daggers at him through his glares. 

“And why would you say that?” Eunyeok asked, glaring at him.

“I don’t know, you tell me, Jay suddenly appeared in front of everyone years after his death. Isn't it ironic how Y/n has always been right in all her theories?” Heeseung answered his brother angrily. 

“I should’ve gotten rid of her a long time ago,” Eunyeok replied. “Now that bitch had gone somewhere with Yang and Sim,” he added, taking another sip of his whiskey before banging his hand on the table.

“So you’re admitting it?” Heeseung asked, standing up, approaching his brother. 

“I ain’t admitting anything, besides Jay never died, so I don’t have anything to admit,” Eunyeok replied to Heeseung.

“You fucker, you ruined Y/n’s life, now her life is in danger and worst from her own brother’s hands,” Heeseung said angrily throwing away the glass of whiskey that was in front of her brother.

Eunyeok grabbed Heeseung’s collar before saying, “you fucking ungrateful fucker, you should be thanking me for getting rid of that fucker, if I didn’t he would’ve taken away your position and because of your stupidity you lost your position to that Kim,”

Heeseung pushed Eunyeok away from him, “you’re the ungrateful one here asshole, you should be thanking me for not telling anyone how dirty your work is,” he argued before turning around ignoring all his brother’s yellings for him to come back. 

4

Jake, Y/n and Jungwon arrived at 4am at their location, where a helicopter was waiting for them. It was windy and cold, Y/n held onto Jake, needing more warmth from him. 

“Jake,” someone called out. Turning around, Y/n and Jungwon saw an unknown face in front of them. 

“Sorry it took us long to arrive here,” Jake said, greeting the guy in front of them. “This is Y/n and Jungwon, please take care of them,” he added, making sure to say the last words as low as possible. 

“Oh hi, I’m Jinyoung,” the guy in front of them replied, earning a smile from Y/n and Jungwon.

“You two should get in, I have to make a quick call,” Jake said, earning a nod from Jungwon, who’s now struggling to get inside the helicopter. 

“I didn’t you’re this short,” Y/n teased, as she saw how Jungwon struggled. 

“Shut up,” Jungwon replied, laughing, handing out his hand to Y/n to help her get in. 

Y/n didn’t budge, she stood there, looking at Jungwon’s hand.

“Y/n, love, come on, it’s cold,” Jake said, trying to carry Y/n, who stopped him.

“You’re leaving us are you,” Y/n said, holding Jake’s jacket tightly, looking up at him, her eyes watering.

“No, I just need to call Sunghoon quickly,” Jake replied nervously.

“I heard you, I heard what you said a while ago, take care of us? Why?” Y/n replied.

“Baby, listen to me, Sunghoon needs me, I can’t let him do everything alone, he’s my best friend,” Jake replied.

“So you’re leaving us?” Y/n said, tears cascading down her cheeks. 

“Baby, I promise to get back to you ok?” Jake said, wiping her tears away.

“That’s the same thing Jay told me the morning he left for work,” Y/n said, sobbing. “You can’t leave me, us,” Y/n replied weakly.

“Baby,” Jake whispered, hugging Y/n tightly.

“I’m pregnant Jake,” Y/n whispered softly, Jake pulling away, looking at Y/n, his eyes landing on her belly, her tiny little bump, tears falling down from his eyes. 

“DUCK!” Jinyoung yelled as various gunshots echoed the place, Jake shielding Y/n with Jungwon’s help.

They’ve found them.

Last 3 chapters of these fanfic is only available on wattpad.

[nisuna]

Hi hello everyone<3 I'm so sorry for disappearing for a whole two months 🥲 Some of you may have seen the post about me breaking my tail bone ha ha..

I was just feeling so deflated and uninspired... HOWEVER, the love for my cult!leader!Geto x non!sorcerer!f!reader AU won after all!!! I just have to release everything I have planned for this timeline, ehe it's so precious to me🫶🏻

I have been reading A LOT of manhwas recently, and yesterday's chapter just made me want to write again, yaaayy

So I present to you part two of the smut adventures of cult leader geto 🥰 Hope you enjoy!!

Check out the cult leader headcannons here!<3 and Part 1 here

TW: public sex, soft geto????, calling him by his first name:))), different positions, biting, unprotected sex; he still calls you pet, of course; voyeurism, 1k words

<3masterlist<3

Cult leader Geto just couldn't get enough of you. Once he got a taste, he would continue fucking you all throughout the whole day. So it was just one of those days. Having everyone watch you whimper and squirm in pleasure just spurred his excitement on impossibly more. He never considered voyeurism to be his thing, but you have opened his eyes to many new things. Most importantly, you didn't even realise how strong of a grip you actually had on him.

There was nothing unusual about today's session in front of everyone. You looked and sounded breathtaking while laying beneaty him, exposed for everyone to see while panting his name. The first time he fucked you in front of everyone you were beyond embarassed. You kept hiding and looking for reassurance that never came. But now you were letting it all out. All shame was thrown out of the window, instead replaced by pure lust. You were getting off on being watched.

"Mhhh~~ Geto-sama!!", you kept screaming while he pounded away at your sopping wet cunt.

Everyone called him Geto-sama. Hearing you moan it was nothing out of the ordinary. However, today, that name just wasn't doing it for him. But he pushed those thoughts away as swiftly as they appeared and continued with his ministrations.

Later that day you were still helplessly sobbing that darn "Geto-sama" you have been doing while getting fucked in front of his followers.

Weirdly enough, he was actually getting sick of it. Hearing his title slip through your kiss-swollen lips reminded him of all of his followers. It was getting distracting at this point, so he swiftly picked you up and sat you back down on his lap.

As he was bottoming out, another trembling chant of his name made its way out of your mouth.

"AH- Geto-sama" you mumbled, back arching and nails digging into his firm back.

"Enough of that, pet!", he he raised his voice in annoyance while squeezing your cheeks between his long fingers. You were definitely caught off guard, shrieking in fear. "Did-I do anyfing -rong?? 'Msory Geto-sa- ow", you slurred, eyes trembling with fear but couldn't finish as his grip on your jaw only tightened. He was starting to hurt you, but you were too scared to resist.

He kept a fist-full of your face while pulling your face in front of his. He kept you in his grasp for what felt like forever burning holes into you with his sharp eyes. You stayed silent throughout.

After minutes of silence, he finally let go of you. You could feel the burning sensation his fingerprints left on your face but didn't dare to move despite the pain. You've learned the hard way to never pull away from him.

"Try Suguru.", he said monotonously, but you swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up in amusement for a split second.

You looked at him with a confused stare, mumbling "Sugu-", before you could finish, you slapped a hand over your mouth with a loud gasp. That was his first name. "Geto-sama, I couldn't possibly, that's too -"

Your distressed voice did arouse him, but it also made him want to soothe your worried expression. Another eye-opening experience he's never had with his followers before meeting you, compassion. He didn't dwell on it for long, though, and just interrupted.

"Do it for me. I wish to hear you say it.", his voice sounded awfully soft and genuine all of a sudden. Like he was desperately yearning for you to say it.

Has he gone mad? How could you call him by his first name? What would the others think? No. But before you could speak again, he added, "But only in the bedroom, this is between you and me only."

Between you and him only? Over the time you stayed with him, you did start feeling his demeanour soften around you. He was letting you see much more than anyone else. But you kept pushing these thoughts away. They were ridiculous, Geto-sama seeing you as something special? No way.

Yes way.

You hesitated. You swore to obey his every word. You couldn't just push his request aside. You mustered all the courage you had as he grabbed your hips in excitement.

"I-if you wish so, I will try. S-suguru..sama."

You didn't expect to see him grin as widely and toothy as he did in this exact moment.

"Atta girl, such a good pet you are. Good girls like you", he whispered, leaning in while nibbling up your neck. "deserve a reward. Now, on all fours."

-----

The next few times he fucked you in front of the others you actually had to concentrate on calling him Geto-sama. Oddly enough you grew accustomed to calling him Suguru during sex way to easily.

So one day, while your legs were thrown over his shoulders, kimono ripped open to expose your plush breasts, you almost slipped and fell.

You kept begging him to please slow down, but his tempo was relentless, stamina seemingly never ending during today's session. You tried getting used to it and calming down, but you just couldn't hold it in any longer at one point.

"Mhh.. Sugu~~", you moaned out before you could comprehend what you have just done. You just dumbly pressed your soft tits against his firm chest.

You froze as his hips came to a halt completely. He was staring at you with wide eyes. Oh you're fucked. But to your surprise a punishment didn't follow, instead he leaned down and whispered.

"If you can't control your words, you can bite my shoulder to calm down. Here.", he whispered gently.

You were definitely going to take him up on that offer when he was being so kind right now.

You gave him a nod, opening your mouth. He smiled before sensually rocking his hips into yours. He was as gentle as the night you shared your first kiss.

The reassurance you had been looking for finally came in the form of his soft gaze. You felt at ease, but when you finally bit down, you almost screamed at his growl and how he picked up his speed. The soothing rhythm from before was long forgotten. With the way his cock was bullying itself inside your gummy walls so aggressively, calming down wasn't an option. Seems like his plan backfired. The bite was making him lose his mind.

Oh well, better keep biting that shoulder, girl, or you won't be able to stop yourself from screaming his (first) name. ;)

-----

Hope to see you very soon with more stuff!!<3 Stay tuned and thank you for all of the support even while I was gone🙆🏻‍♀️ Confession or mirror sex next??? or maybe first time ehe lmk what I should cook 😈

[pissclump]

This Is Gonna Get Worse Before It Gets Better

Chapter 2

Sorry if this chapter seems kinda rushed, I wrote it at 2 A.M. LOL Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I'll try to update again soon.

"There were three of them? And what exactly did they look like?"

"Well, uh... I didn't really get a look at their faces. They were all hidden."

God, how you wanted this to be over already. The stress from last night's events was becoming almost unbearable, and having to retell the whole story at your local police station definitely didn't help.

"Covered? So you didn't see them at all?"

You sighed and shook your head. "No. The one who tackled me... He had on a white mask. The lips and eye sockets were painted black. Kinda looked like some creepy porcelain doll."

"And the others?"

"One of them had on these giant goggles with orange lenses. And his mouth was covered by some kind of mask thingy. And the last one... I only saw him for a split second before they all left. But he had on a black ski mask with a red frown on the face of it."

The officer in front of you jotted down all of your words onto the small notepad in his hands. "Your case is certainly strange. And you can't think of anyone you know who could have reasons to pursue you?"

"No. Not at all. According to the white-masked freak, I wasn't even their original target."

This caught the man's attention. He looked up from his notepad and made eye contact with you, a quizzical expression on his face. "Is that so? Then what made them attack you?"

"I guess they thought I was someone else. White-masked freak said that I've 'seen too much.' That's when he attacked me."

He turned his attention back to his notepad, jotting down a few last words as you spoke. He slipped the notepad into his pocket before clearing his throat. "Thank you for your time, Miss (L/N). We'll contact you upon any updates. If you see any of these men again, you know who to call."

You hurriedly made your way out of the police station. The memories of your attackers replayed through your head almost constantly. The lack of sleep was starting to catch up to you, but you were too afraid to let your guard down long enough to rest. Who were they? If you weren't their 'target,' then who was? What was their motive? Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your ringtone and a soft buzzing coming from your pocket. You reached into your pocket to retrieve your phone to see that you were being called by... Kimberly's mother? You accepted the call and lifted your phone to your ear.

"Hello? Mrs. Allman?"

"(Y/N)! It's been a while, dear. How are things holding up?"

Something was off about the way she spoke. She sounded slightly panicked and her words were shaky. Maybe now wasn't the time to talk about how things had 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 been holding up.

"Oh, um, things have been going decent. Is everything okay?"

"I was actually wondering if you've heard from Kim lately."

"Kim? She left for home yesterday morning... right?"

"Well, yes but..." She paused from a moment and took a deep breath. "She never showed up. She should have been here a long time ago. She won't answer my calls and texts, and I'm just worried sick, (Y/N). So, I'm guessing you know nothing concerning her whereabouts?" Her voice began to crack as if she was on the verge of crying.

You were speechless for the next few seconds, worry making it's way into your body like some deadly disease. Was Kimberly really missing? You didn't even think to call or text to check on her while she was on her way. What kind of friend were you? What if she was in trouble? What if she was hurt? "No, I'm... I'm so sorry, Mrs. Allman. I don't know anything. I'll try my best to get in contact with her."

Hanging up the phone, you began to breathe heavily. Where could she have gone? Was it too soon to report her as a missing person. No, surely Mrs. Allman would take care of that. You stared at the screen of your phones and dialed Kimberly's number with shaky hands only for it to only go straight to her voicemail. You then shot her a few texts, praying to get at least some sort of response. You buried your phone back into your pocket before making your way to your car. As if you weren't already stressed enough, now your best friend was missing. You gripped the steering wheel as tightly as you could, holding back a sob. Twisting the keys in the ignition, you suddenly froze in place as you felt something cold and metallic pressed against the side of your face.

"Drive."

You didn't even have to look to see who was holding a gun to your head. You saw the familiar yellow from the corner of your eye and tried as hard as you could to keep yourself from hyperventilating. Your thoughts were jumbled and you couldn't get your body to move at all. The metal was pressed further into your face as he repeated himself.

"Can you not hear me? I said drive."

You hesitantly pressed your foot against the gas pedal and made your out of the police station's parking lot. It was hard to focus on traffic in your current situation. Your mind was becoming more and more foggy by the second.

"Go home. The others are waiting for you. We have some talking to do."

What. Those fuckers were 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 for you? Your nerves were already a wreck. The LAST thing you needed was to be face to face with the men who had tried to kill you just last night. You survived them once just out of pure luck. Surely you could pull it off again, right? You didn't say another word and obeyed his demand. It wasn't a long drive back home, but being held at gunpoint the entire time made it feel like hours. He didn't yield his weapon until the car was in park. You reached to open the door, but his voice stopped you.

"Wait."

He scanned the area and you assumed he was looking for other people. It made sense considering it was the middle of the day. What kind of serial killer would be careless enough to let themself be seen in broad daylight? He gave you a nod, signaling that the coast was clear and exited the vehicle. You followed after him and led him up the stairs to your apartment. You were barely able to make it up the staircase due to how shaky your legs were. Your trembling hands fumbled with your keyring, searching for the door key.

"It's already unlocked. Go in."

How do these psychos keep unlocking your door? You twisted the doorknob and made your way inside, the hooded man just inches behind you. Sitting on your couch were the other two men that you feared with everything in you. The goggled man, or "Rogers," as you had heard his comrade call him, was the first to speak.

"H-hey, princess! I told you I'd buh-be seeing you again s-s-soon! Don't mind M-Masky, he's still pissy about being drenched in m-milk!" As he spoke, his head twitched to the side a few times, his neck making a stomach-churning 'crack' sound.

The other man, "Masky," wouldn't even look in your direction. Wow, he really is pissy. The hooded man made his way over to the couch, taking a seat between the other two.

"Sit down. We have questions for you, and it would be in your best interest to comply."

His threatening tone only intensified the feeling of dread in your stomach. It almost made you sick. You hesitated, but decided to listen, clinging onto the hope that maybe, just 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦, you could get out of this alive. You sat down on the recliner across from the couch. You wanted to keep as much distance from them as you could. You stared at the ground, fidgeting with your hands. Your mind was spinning in circles and it took everything in you to not just bolt out the door and never look back.

"First of all..." The man in the yellow hoodie began to speak and unfolded a small piece of paper. "Do you know who this is?"

You extended your arm to grab the paper from him and stared at it. Staring back at you were those familiar hazel eyes you had grown to love so much.

"Kim... She's my best friend, of course I know her." You were tempted to lie, but your life depended on giving these guys the information they wanted. And they made sure you knew that. The man in the white mask was the next to speak, his voice cold and stern.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know. Honestly, I don't." Your voice began to tremble.

"Bullshit!" He stood up from his seat and towered over you.

"I'm serious! I DON'T KNOW! She was supposed to be staying with her parents for the weekend, but she never showed up. She won't answer my calls or texts. I have no clue where she is."

Rogers let out that same eerie giggle that's been haunting you since your first encounter with him.

"Sounds like she's trying to h-hide from us!"

Your mind was racing with questions. Why were they asking you about Kimberly? What did they want with her? Was 𝘴𝘩𝘦 the target they had mistaken you for? You were pulled out of your thoughts as the hooded man began to speak again.

"You live with her, correct? When was the last time you saw her?"

"I live with her, yes. I haven't seen her since yesterday morning. That's when she left."

Masky sat back down, seeming to have calmed down a little. "She knows we're onto her. There's no other reason she'd just disappear like that."

His words confirmed your suspicions. Kimberly was definitely the person they intended to kill that night. But why? Why HER of all people? Your fear was soon replaced with anger. You shook your head and stood up from your seat.

"Kim? You're targeting Kimberly Allman of all people? WHY?! She's never been anything but good to everyone around her! What reason would ANYONE possibly have for wanting her dead! You're all fucking sick!"

Masky stood up once again, his face just inches from yours. "Watch your fucking mouth, whore! WE'RE the ones who get to ask questions, not you!"

"Are you serious?! First you break into my apartment and try to fucking KILL me, now you're telling I don't get to ask questions when I find out that YOU WANT MY BEST FRIEND DEAD?! You're all idiots if you think I'm gonna let you get anywhere near her!"

Your screaming match was interrupted by the hooded man. "Calm down. Both of you. (Y/N), there are things you don't know about Kimberly. I can go ahead and tell you that she is definitely 𝘯𝘰𝘵 your friend."

How did he know your name? Scratch that, you probably won't like the answer to that.

"What? What are you talking about? Of course she's my friend!"

"She r-really is clueless. It's kinda c-cute!"

You really couldn't handle all of this right now. You were so worn out both physically and mentally. Your head was starting to hurt from both the stress and the never-ending questions that plagued your mind.

"I don't understand... What the hell are you talking about?"

Masky scoffed. "Are you slow? Kimberly is planning to kill you. Has been for a while now."

It took you a moment to process the words that came out of his mouth. "No. You're lying. You're a fucking liar! YOU'RE ALL LIARS! She wouldn't... no, she would never. Kim would never even dream of hurting anyone, let alone her best friend."

"She's a great pretender, I'll give her that. But you're being naive. She's trying to get as close to you as possible to make getting rid of you easier."

"I think sh-she's in denial! It's okay p-princess, as long as you're useful to us, w-we wont luh-let her get to ya!"

You were still hesitant and debated if you should even believe what the men were telling you. "I just don't get it. Why? Why would she want to hurt me?"

"We c-can't tell ya that much. But as of right n-n-now, she's still our main target."

You finally snapped, no longer able to hold yourself together anymore. You buried your face in your hands and began to sob. You tried to speak, but nothing came out but pathetic cries.

The hooded man stood up suddenly. "Masky. Let's go. I think that's all we're gonna be able to get out of her for the time being. Rogers, keep an eye on her for tonight. Give her some space for a while. She's got a lot of processing to do."

With that, he took his leave, Masky following behind him. You were left alone with Rogers, but you weren't able to focus on his presence due to the intense mental strain you were currently experiencing. You hoped with everything in you that he wouldn't actually be there for the rest of the night. But you weren't that lucky today.

[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 25 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I'm really sorry for the delay. I was sick and I have to revise for exams in February and March, so there will only be one chapter (maybe two since I have no self control and I always write too much) on Sunday January 26th.

I really hope you liked these chapters! Don't hesitate to leave comments even bad ones (not mean please), it allows me to know what's wrong and to improve especially on the sex scenes because I feel like I'm really too bad at that. I had a lot a lot a lot of trouble writing this last chapter lol.

In any case thank you for your reading, your time, your votes and especially your comments. You are all so kind and I am so shocked every time but it makes me so so happy. Love you. Have a wonderful week end and good luck for all you have to go through. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

! Don't forget to read the previous and following chapters ! : Here

Chapter 25

Mor had teleported their soulmate to the Town House after Rhysand had asked her to and after Luxiana had -despite the three Illyrians- spent the night at Amren's.

Rhys' cousin threw a reassuring and encouraging smile at Luxiana as she saw the three Illyrians waiting for the blondes with a serious look in the middle of the living room before leaving.

Luxiana suddenly felt very small and intimidated in front of them and she had a hard time hiding it. She didn't know exactly why -although she had, in fact, a little idea- they had this power over her but she always had the impression that their opinion and what they thought of her mattered a lot.

She slowly sat down on the couch in front of them, feeling like a little girl who was about to be scolded. But Rhysand frowned as he watched his soulmate. He gave his brothers a worried and slightly confused look who returned it. Their soulmate had huge dark circles under her eyes, she was pale, trembling and her gaze was tired.

Rhysand stared into his soulmate's intimidated eyes. Noticing her discomfort, he sat down on the couch behind him to look less threatening. "Luxi, are you okay?"

Something sparkled in Luxiana's eyes and in her chest. He had just called her Luxi. She wanted to jump around screaming and she would have if every muscle in her body didn't hurt like hell. "I like it when you call me that," she could only answer, blushing.

“Noted,” the lord chuckled softly, finding her adorable, “but that doesn’t answer my question.”

Cassian grimaced. He had never seen his soulmate look so bad. She looked sick. A ball of anxiety squeezed her stomach. "Yeah, because you look like you just ran under a herd of horses."

Luxiana let out a tired chuckle. "Great, that's good to know."

Azriel was looking at her insistently to encourage her to continue and answer Rhysand's question but Luxiana only looked at him with an innocent smile while blinking abusively. The spymaster refrained from rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Answer the question, princess."

Luxiana opened her eyes wide for a second before slapping her palms on her face as she made her legs go in the air in front of her. She squealed in joy before placing her hands on her knees to stare at Azriel with blushes. "I like it even more when you call me that, finally."

Rhysand and Cassian smiled fondly, but Azriel didn't. He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. "Why are you avoiding the question?"

Luxiana regained a sort of seriousness to smile slyly, her gaze suddenly filled with play. "Why not?"

Cassian huffed but still couldn't hold back his smile. "Because we care about you and we'd like to know what's wrong."

Luxiana tried not to look as impacted by his words as she felt as her heart pounded in her chest. Did that mean he liked her? "Why?" she asked with that same defiant, haughty air.

Rhysand returned his expression. "Why not?"

Luxiana bit her tongue and rolled her eyes. He had turned his game against her. She sighed. "I just had a bad night, that's all."

The three brothers glanced at each other. They too had had a bad night. And though it was partly because they had been thinking about Velaris' attack and Luxiana : what she had done, how she had fought and where she was, but they hadn't managed to sleep also because of something else. Because of their muscles which had been aching strangely for hours like they had some kind of huge pain or like... like one of them was in agony and letting them know through their bond.

Azriel crossed his arms, looking concerned. "Why? What happened?"

Luxiana crossed her arms in turn as she let herself fall onto the back of the couch. "You do ask a lot of questions today."

"And you're quite mysterious all of a sudden," Rhysand noted warily. She hid a lot of things from them far too easily. He hated it.

“I’ve always been mysterious,” Luxiana assured, raising an eyebrow.

Cassian chuckled as he sat on the arm of Rhysand's couch behind him. "Yeah, she's not wrong."

“Luxiana,” Rhysand insisted, his voice commanding this time. His brows were furrowed and his expression serious. “You owe us an explanation.”

The blonde shivered at his tone and the half truth she was about to have to confess.

"How did you do everything you did yesterday?" Azriel asked in a cold, distinctive voice. The voice he used when he was questioning someone. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he examined his soulmate. "You used professional fighting techniques, and don't tell me your boss taught you how to defend yourself because what you did wasn't for a defensive purpose."

"You're used to fighting," Cassian added, not even believing what he was saying but thinking about it all night, it was the only conclusion he had come to. He had replayed the scene in his head a million times trying to understand and process it. "And I don't think it was working in a bar that taught you how to do that."

Luxiana pursed her lips as she searched for words. She brushed a strand of hair from her undone braid behind her ear, “... Well, actually, I do work at a bar…”

Azriel gritted his teeth. A wave of anger washed over him. She was lying to him. His soulmate had lied to him, continues to lie to him and will still lie to him. How could she lie to him without him knowing? He had already detected some of those lies, so why not all of them? "It can't be. A waitress doesn't need to know how to fight that well."

Luxiana smiled mischievously. "I never said I was a waitress, you thought that yourself. I just said I worked in a bar."

Rhysand could start to feel the irritation building in his chest. She was playing them. She was their soulmate but she was mocking them. “So you’ve been letting us believe something that’s not true this whole time,” he spat coldly as he became the High Lord of the Night. This whole time, she had been intentionally lying to them. He couldn’t trust her. His jaw was clenched. “So, I’ll only ask you this once, what are you doing in a bar if you’re not a barmaid and how and why did you learn to fight that way?”

A silence settled, weighing on their shoulders. Silence during which Luxiana detailed the three Illyrians in front of her with guilt and hesitation. Was she going to confess one of her secrets to them? She pursed her lips, making her dimples stand out, and although she had her gaze lowered because of the piercing eyes of the three fixed on her, they felt faint despite their anger. Her dimples were their end.

Luxiana thought. She weighed the pros and cons. Her reason told her not to trust them but her heart really liked them. And then, after all, he had only asked her to say what she did for work, not what she was, and so, what she was going to say was not really a secret anyway. If they dug a little, they could very well have learned it by themselves. Especially since some other high lords knew her very well. And maybe, depending on the reaction of the three Illyrians, she could really start to trust them, and so, one day maybe, she will tell them more. "I am a mercenary," she blurted out suddenly with a shrug.

Time froze for a second around the three faes, giving the impression that their entire bodies had stopped working for a moment. Then Cassian burst out laughing. But, after a few moments, he instantly calmed down when he saw the serious look on his mate’s face. "Wait, you're not serious, right?"

"I am," Luxiana insisted. "The bar I work at is just a cover. The people come to us with... mission orders in exchange for payment and we carry them out"

The three Illyrians were turning white from head to toe. Azriel, standing next to his two brothers, had to take a step back as he felt the muscles in his legs give out for a second.

“When I was telling you about leaving my parents,” Luxiana continued, her expression still serious. She was so anxious about how they would react. She didn’t want them to hate her. “I told you I went to Kayden to get a job, and it was true. But Kay didn’t hire me as a waitress, he hired me as a spy. He trained me to be a spy first. I was a cute, quiet little girl, no one really cared about me.”

The three Illyrians widened their eyes a little more as they realized that she really wasn't joking.

“But I quickly got bored,” Luxiana added, shrugging again. “So I started asking to do bigger and bigger missions. Kayden then taught me how to steal, and I don’t want to pat myself on the back, but I quickly became one of the best thieves in the country.”

Cassian's eyelids gradually widened even more. Rhysand put his hand over his mouth, not believing what he was hearing. And Azriel was holding himself back from reacting as a whirlwind of different emotions worried him.

Luxiana looked down for a second, grimacing, "But... Kayden... I wanted to please him so much, I wanted him to be proud of me so much, I wanted him to not regret hiring me, and taking care of me so much that I started taking more and more dangerous missions. Although Kay didn't want it, because he was afraid I would get hurt, he still ended up accepting and training me." Luxiana smiled at the memories. "I had to say that I know how to be convincing. And then, he knows that I am stubborn and that I would have put myself in danger by taking a risky mission anyway and that he had every interest in teaching me how to fight."

An unpleasant aftertaste of jealousy settled at the back of the three Illyrians' tongues as they heard how much their soulmate cared for her boss and how much she wanted to make him proud. Her relationship with him was therefore not just professional. Azriel's nostrils flared and his fists clenched.

Cassian barely realized. He blinked a few times to try to process it. "So your boss taught you how to fight like that?"

Luxiana nodded. “Partly. Kayden is gifted, strong, and intelligent,...”

Azriel rolled his eyes wildly.

“...but it wasn't enough. The fighting techniques he taught me weren't always adapted to my body, my weight, my strength, especially not against more muscular or larger enemies. So I went looking for books and people who could teach me how to fight like no one else according to my morphology. And I was really motivated. I wanted so much for Kayden to be proud of me. I trained day and night until I couldn't even stand up anymore. And then at 16 years old, I was able to defeat any enemy."

Then Luxiana whitened suddenly, her gaze growing heavy with something like regret as she stared into the void right in front of her. "And I should have settled for that, but even that wasn't enough," she muttered weakly under her breath.

Then she looked up as she came back to her senses. She wasn't going to go into detail about that story today. Maybe never. She wasn't sure she could ever trust them to tell them about it.

The three Illyrians were less and less believing their ears. They looked at each other in shock. They had had a hard time accepting that night that their soulmate knew how to fight and that she had lied to them for a long time, but they were far from guessing she was a mercenary.

"Why didn't you tell us right away?" Rhysand asked in a distant voice.

Luxiana shakes her head, not really knowing that herself. "For several reasons, I think. I didn't know if I could trust you and it's easier to look weak, people don't get suspicious. And..."

She hesitated as she detailed them for a second to know if she would say more or not. But she wanted so much to be able to trust them. After all, it could be a test and allow Luxiana to analyze their reactions to one day be able to entrust them with more. "...And also because I didn't become just any simple mercenary."

Azriel narrowed his eyes, holding back his quickening breath as much as he could. "What do you mean?"

Luxiana stopped herself from looking down, feeling a little ashamed. This was the first time that someone other than Kayden's opinion had mattered so much to her. It was new. She tried to put on a proud look, the same one she adopted when she was perturbed. "I became one of the few mercenaries who was able to cross the wall and the only one who didn't refuse to do so."

The three Illyrians - if they were no longer- froze as they opened their eyes wide.

"When that became known," Luxiana smiled, "Kayden was able to accept missions in exchange for exorbitant compensation. People who were willing to give anything for me to go and retrieve their loved ones kidnapped by fae, to go and steal and bring back contraband or even to..." She paused, taking a deep breath. "...murder and get revenge on some fae. I..." 

She looked up at the three of them with fear, but she wasn't afraid of them, she was afraid of their reactions. She was afraid that they wouldn't like her anymore after this. "I'm not a nice person, you know? I've murdered a lot of people, fae and humans. But never innocents!" she tried to justify herself as if it made a difference.

The three Illyrians were in even more shock. This little smiling and sunny woman was a murderer? She had killed people? They had such a hard time believing it. But it explained what she had done yesterday.

Rhysand tried to calm down and think but all he could think about was how bad he was. His soulmate had to become an assassin to please a man who had taken advantage of her when she was just a child because he hadn't been able to find her before and bring her to safety. He thought about how Luxiana must have felt the first time after taking someone's life. She must have felt so bad. A cloud of guilt flooded his chest uncomfortably and it was so strong that he knew his brothers thought and felt the same way.

“So that’s how you were able to get out of your cell yesterday?” Azriel asked, trying to distract him from his guilt-ridden chest. “How did you escape my shadows without them telling me?”

Luxiana grimaced. "Sort of. I've learned to deflect a lot of magic through my missions but…," she hesitated, "let's just say I have other special talents that helped me a lot yesterday."

"Like which ones?" Azriel asked dryly. His voice was hissing despite himself because of the anger he felt. Although he was a little pissed off by his soulmate's lies, he was essentially furious with him. He was the best spy in this damned country and he had never found his soulmate in time. None of his shadows had told him about her. None of his shadows who had always helped and supported him had told him to go save his soulmate.

Luxiana smiled weakly. "That's a secret for next time."

Cassian closed his eyes slowly and left them closed for a long second in surprise. "Because besides that one, you have other secrets??"

Luxiana snickered, openly mocking them. "There are many others, yes, and me being an assassin isn't even the worst of them."

Rhysand raised his eyebrows before blowing out all his air. He ran his hands over his face, rubbing it vigorously. His soulmate had lied to him and continued to hide things from him. It hurt his heart. He wished he knew everything about her. He wished she felt confident enough with him to tell him everything.

Cassian was out of his body. He couldn't quite comprehend what his soulmate had just confessed. "So you're a mercenary?" he managed to say.

Luxiana swallowed hard. She didn't like this feeling in her chest that made her fear the reaction of the three Illyrians. Why did she even care so much? "I am." Then, in the hope of lightening the mood, she began to look them up and down with a playful air and a smirk. "And I'm the best. Besides, I'm sure I could take all three of you in a fight…," her smile turned perverse. "And not just in a fight either."

Cassian suddenly came back to himself. He threw a surprised look at Rhysand who returned it. Then he closed his eyes slowly to return them to his soulmate with a smirk. "Is this a proposal?"

"Yes!" she answered simply with a seductive air.

Azriel had to sit next to Rhys on the couch, no longer able to stand on his legs because of the mixture of emotions that made him palpitate and anxious. He placed his fingers on his temples and began to massage them as his skull began to hurt too much.

He interrupted the burning gaze his soulmate and brother were giving each other by raising his hand to Luxiana. "Do you realize how dangerous this job is?" He could feel his stomach tighten as he stressed his brothers out with him. His soulmate could have died, or worse, been tortured, because of one of those missions. He could have never met her. And he could never have taken it. He could never have taken the knowledge that she had been tortured and that he hadn't been there to save her.

Luxiana shrugged insolently and innocently, making Azriel grit his teeth. A burst of anger burned his body as if an iceberg had hit him. "Your life is important, Luxiana, damn it. You can't put your life in danger like that, just because you wanted to please the first bastard who used you when you were just a child!"

The Illyrian with the blue siphons closed his eyes, instantly regretting his crude words and even more so when Luxiana leaned on the couch to propel herself and jump to her feet.

She quickly approached the spymaster, glaring at him, anger boiling in her chest, even clenching her heart in pain. How dare he? "That man saved my life in so many ways! Don't even talk about him like that!"

Azriel stood up abruptly in turn to grab Luxiana's chin and clamp his fingers into her cheeks. He was mad with rage. No, mad with jealousy. He hated the way HIS soulmate spoke of this man. The way HIS soulmate wanted to make another man proud and that she idealized him so much when he was evil. When he had taken advantage of a lost little girl. When he must have saved her instead. When she was his and he was dying for her to speak of him like that.

Rhysand stood up in turn to put his hand on Azriel's shoulder and communicate with him through thought. "I know what that bastard did but he still saved our soulmate and taught her how to fight."

Cassian groaned but didn't move from the couch to answer them in his head. "He made her a mercenary, or at least a spy. He intentionally put her in danger."

Rhysand huffed, glaring at Cassian who wasn't helping him. "Worse things could have happened to Luxiana if she would have been alone. Nothing happened to her and that's what matters. And maybe it's partly thanks to that man so we should be at least a little grateful. And anyway, she idealizes him."

Azriel glared at his brother with his brown pupils, almost shouting back in their heads. “He used a little girl to enrich himself instead of keeping her safe!”

Rhysand stared back at him, warning him with his high lord aura not to go any further. He was just as mad with rage at this man. By the cauldron, he was going to find him. "I agree with you but she doesn't see it that way. And she's not ready for this discussion. So let her go. Anyway, she has no contact with him now." Then out loud, so that their long silence wouldn't seem strange to their soul mate, he added: "She's not a mercenary anymore today." And he continued in their heads: "She's with us now. Don't ruin everything."

Azriel took a deep breath. She was with them today and he wouldn't let her near that bastard anymore. He stared at his soulmate and then suddenly felt calm. Luxiana's face was furrowed with anger. Azriel smiled tenderly. She was so cute like that. She was so cute with her face in his hand. She was so cute when she was almost his. She was more important than his anger or his jealousy. "Sorry, princess, I should never have said that," he breathed. Then he leaned forward to place a light kiss on her nose before releasing her.

Luxiana's anger suddenly disappeared, replaced by surprise as she opened her eyes a little wider, blushing. "Uh, I..." she stuttered, searching for words. Had he really just apologized? It was cute. "Uh, it's nothing." Luxiana walked away from him, lowering her head, still confused.

Rhysand released his brother to sigh. They needed time to think about all this and process it. Then he turned to Luxiana but he noticed her dark circles again a little more being so close to her. "So why didn't you sleep badly last night?"

Luxiana shrugged. "We've talked too much with Amren." She refrained from glancing at Azriel to see if he'd detected her half-truth.

Cassian raised his eyebrows. "Amren had talked to you all night?"

Luxiana chuckled. "Okay, I was basically just talking to myself and hoping Amren would respond."

The three Illyrians were huffing a laugh. Then Rhysand suddenly looked serious again. "We..." he hesitated. "We have to go, wait for us here." Then he turned to his brothers to give them a doubtful glance but he remembered that their soulmate had just confessed to them that she was a spy, a mercenary and an assassin. He didn't really have to be too gentle with her anymore. He smiled a little at the thought. "We have to go question the Attor, maybe he'll finally decide to talk today and tell us how creatures like him were able to find and enter Velaris."

Cassian nodded as he stood up and they started to leave together, leaving the blonde there. But Luxiana stopped Rhysand by holding him by the arm with a confused and thoughtful look. "The Attor? The creature that attacked Feyre the first time you came to the Archerons’?"

Rhysand nodded heavily.

“He resists Azriel’s tortures and has a mental shield far too powerful for Rhys to break through,” Cassian explained, his voice serious and so unusual for him that it made Luxiana shiver.

Azriel contracted completely.

The blonde tilted her head, frowning. She turned to Azriel with a pleasantly surprised smile. "You're the torturer of this court?"

The Illyrian gritted his teeth as something squeezed his stomach even more. He understood that his soulmate was not as kind and gentle as his physique suggested, but he still didn't like that she had the vision of him as a cruel being. A torturer. She may have murdered people but not innocent people and there was a big difference between killing and torturing. He didn't want her to see him like that. To know who he really was, how dirty and how much he didn't deserve her.

“We don’t have that kind of stuff here,” Rhysand corrected, sensing Azriel’s discomfort. “But it’s his job to gather information.”

"Hmm," she mused, placing her index finger on her chin. "I'll come with you, then." She crossed her arms with furrowed brows and a serious expression as she waited for the three Illyrians—who were giving each other hesitant glances—to decide to move.

“No,” Azriel refused immediately. He didn’t want his soulmate to see him like this.

Rhysand doubted almost as much as his brother. "What you're going to see there is..."

Luxiana rolled her eyes and interrupted him, "I can well imagine what it's like yes. If you don't have an official torturer, I assume Azriel hasn't received any training on how exactly to torture someone properly." Then she smiled. A cold, creepy smile. "I just want to make sure he did a good job and that you'll get the information you need."

“Have you ever even seen a person being tortured?” Azriel asked through gritted teeth.

Luxiana's smile widened as something in her pupils glowed. "Not long actually,..." She leaned towards Azriel. "...because they always end up cracking quickly when I'm the one dealing with them."

The three Illyrians raised an eyebrow in a twin expression then Cassian burst out laughing. "I want to see that."

Azriel gritted his teeth, worried, but said nothing, wanting to believe her even though a weight was pressing on his chest.

"Very well," Rhysand confirmed in the same state. "Then come on." It was their soulmate after all.

[dorminchu]

hairline fracture, chapter three

Fandom: Deltarune

Genre: Horror

Characters: Kris Dreemur, Noelle Holiday, Susie, Dess Holiday (mentioned)

Warnings/Notes: male!Kris, spoilers/speculation about the Holiday family, Noelle's unreliable narration, SOUL shenanigans, POV switch

Summary: You would never hurt Noelle.

Holy smokes this fic has been taking off! Thanks to everyone who has been sticking with it so far. :)

The phone's already been buzzing for a while when Susie rounds the corner with an armful of boxes. After digging around in the storage room, the best she could come up with are some old, blank notebooks and a bunch of loose leaf paper. They smell a little musty but nothing's written in them. It's been weirdly quiet, even by Kris's standards. No one's bothered to pick up the phone yet. She sets down the pile and shuffles over to the island, retrieving the phone.

"'Sup?"

Feedback blasts through the tinny speakers. Susie flinches and instinctively winds up her arm for a throw. Damn it! Not in Noelle's house. She fights the temptation and brings the reciever back to her ear.

"Um. Hello?"

"N...oe...lle? ...at y...?"

"You're really breaking up, I'm having trouble understanding you." A loud BANG from the second floor makes her look over. Kris's rapid pace descends the stairs. A different door slams. Susie hesitates, glancing upstairs. "Uh. Is this Mrs. Holiday speaking?"

"N... looking f..."

From the bathroom comes the distant sound of retching. Guess the "sick" juice didn't agree with Kris's stomach. Lancer would be so proud of her puntastic vocabulary if he was here. For now, Susie turns back to the phone. "She's, uh, busy. But I'll—I'll tell her you called, ma'am." Static cuts into the next sentence. Try as she might, Susie can't make out a word. "Ma'am? You're breaking up, I—"

Flat, blaring beep. Susie glares at the phone as if it's going to explain itself.

"Noelle!" she barks in the direction of the upper landing. "Mrs. Holiday called."

No one answers. Susie scoffs and sets the phone down as gently as possible in its cradle. It's a little crooked.

A door opens. Kris shuffles down the stairs, holding onto the banister. He's paler than usual.

"Oh, hey. I was wondering what you were up to." Kris nods. He's moving towards the island with the lanline. "Hey, is Noelle gonna come down soon? I couldn't find any paper. Just some old notebooks in the basement."

Spittle gleams on his jaw. Kris notices her staring and wipes his mouth. "Who called?"

"Mrs. Holiday, I think. She was asking about Noelle." Kris's attention snaps to the boxes. He looks like he's going to be sick. "Hey, are you good?" 

Kris mutters something under his breath. 

"What?"

"I need to make a phone call." Kris pulls the flip phone from his pocket. "Let Noelle know I'll be right there."

Something isn't adding up. Susie grabs his shoulder. "You look like shit. Did something happen?"

Kris flinches. "Not really. I think the juice was bad."

A door opens and closes. Padded footsteps advance down the stairs. "Sorry, guys. I got a little distracted." Noelle notices the boxes. "Oh, where did you find these?"

Susie says, "I couldn't find any pencils, but there's all this paper."

Noelle's gaze softens. "Oh, of course. We can't use these for the school project. These are mom's." She shrugs, apolgetic. "I'm sorry, I'm not really myself today. I've can show you where we keep the pencils and other things, Susie."

Noelle moves over to the storage room and picks a different box. "Would you bring that one down, please?"

Susie does so. Inside the box are a few packs of presharpened pencils, a pencil bag, erasers, a ruler, and an old binder. None of it appears to have been touched, but there's a thick black streak of permanent marker across the spine that still smells pungent. It's difficult to think when the room's so damned cold. Even for summer. "Hey, not to be rude, but, does your mom usually leave the AC on full blast?"

"I'm perfectly fine." Noelle cocks her head. "You'll just have to get accustomed to it, Susie."

Susie forces a laugh. "You could teach Ralsei a thing or two about sarcasm."

Noelle frowns. "What are you talking about?"

Susie hesitates again. Just a few minutes ago, everything seemed fine. What the hell changed? "I dunno. By the way, your mom called the house."

Noelle's eyes shift in the light from amber to honey. "She doesn't usually call home from work unless there's an emergency. Are you sure you didn't mishear?"

"Yeah, I just talked to her. It was a little hard to make out but I definitely heard the name Noelle."

"That doesn't sound right." Noelle shakes her head. "My mom doesn't take calls when she's in a meeting, and not from the house. She would have called me if something was wrong. You probably just picked up a spam call."

"Maybe it was Berdly?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Berdly is busy studying for our group project."

Susie stares at her. "Uh. I'm pretty sure he's still laid up in the hospital. Your dad keeps asking me about it everytime Kris drags me over there."

Noelle scowls. "Kris hasn't even been over here since his mother and father separated. Please, I don't want to argue about this anymore, Susie."

Noelle is genial to a fault on every other day. Then again, Susie and her haven't really talked since that day in the computer lab. It only just occured to Susie that Noelle probably hasn't had much time to process whatever happened. She's always been modest to the point of sucking up a bit. Outright sympathy will probably just fall on deaf ears. If Ralsei were here he'd know what to say, but it'd probably just make this worse. Something's not adding up, and if Kris isn't going to spill the beans, maybe Noelle will.

"Let's just get what we need," Susie says. "Kris must be wondering where we are."

Noelle stares at the contents of the open box. "Wow. I haven't seen most of this stuff since I was a little girl." She reaches out. Snow dusts off of her fingers in tiny flakes. She recoils. "Oh, I'm sorry. Susie, would you bring what we need to the living room? My hands are really acting up today."

Susie lifts the box without breaking a sweat, eager to move into another room. "Is this stuff yours?"

Noelle's eyes darken. "Some of it. Most of it belonged to my sister."

Something clicks in Susie's mind. Hospital room, coughing dad. He DID mention a sister.

"Where is she now?"

Noelle gets quiet, fixated on the boxes. The air in the room drops a few degrees. Susie sets the box down as gently as possible.

"Sorry," she begins. "Didn't mean to pry."

Noelle blinks as if coming out of a fog. Meeting Susie's eyes, her expression changes. It's the closest to a genial smile she's come since communion this morning, but there's a grief behind her eyes that Susie has never noticed before. "It's not your fault, Susie. You couldn't have known." She folds her hands. "Dess was my mother's favorite child."

Susie gawks. Her mind wanders to all those trophies in Noelle's room, her excellent grades, Berdly's fawning rivalry and Kris's unshakable bond. What more could a thankless parent desire beyond unquestioning obedience?

"Mom said was an accident," Noelle continues. Her damp hands continue to drip onto the carpet. She wrings them together without seeming to notice what she's doing. Her voice constricts. "The police searched for months, but there wasn't a body. Mom decided the chief of police should step down if he was so incompetent. She was just upset. Well, I know she gets like that sometimes. It must have been hard on their family."

Susie makes her way towards Noelle. Her fragile hands stop twisting and clasp together as if in supplication. Little particles of snow cling to her shirt sleeves without melting, falling onto Susie's scales. If she were Kris she'd be in a lot more pain. Humans are more squishy and prone to elemental burns.

"Maybe I'll never measure up in my mom's eyes. But that's okay. Losing one Dess was hard enough, you know? And I don't need her approval for the rest of my life." Noelle reaches for Susie with thawing hands. "I already have Kris, and you."

Susie takes hold of her wrist as gently as possible. Days ago, the thought of holding Noelle's hand was just a sappy, stupid wish she'd take to the grave. This isn't how she'd envisioned getting close to Noelle, but she also didn't picture Berdly in a hospital bed with his parents visiting every afternoon. This Dark World was only fun when it was a diversion. A temporary escape from sleeping in an alley, subsisting off of chalk and whatever milk was leftover in the evenings. The line between fantasy and endurance doesn't run thin so much as bleed across the borders.

The last thing Noelle needs is to be alone in this freezing palace, talking about the dead. "Hey. Do you wanna skip studying and go to the lake? Maybe it'll take your mind off of this for a bit. I know it's not the Dark World, but..."

Noelle stares at Susie's larger hands. Her expression falters. "It was a dream," she whispers. Her eyes are brimming. "It was only supposed to be a dream."

On some strange impulse, Susie touches her face. Noelle stares without blinking. Little flecks of frost drift from her eyes. The air in the room feels charged, like standing in front of a Dark World's fountain. In this musty storage room the only light creeps in from the windows. "Hey," Susie whispers. "I'll go, uh. Check on Kris. You just take five, all right? We can hang outside."

Noelle doesn't answer. Her head hangs limply as Susie lets go. Stomping back through the house, she finds Kris lingering around the Christmas tree. The living room is as comfortable as a meat locker. Kris tucks his hands under his armpits, his breaths fanning the air.

"Okay," Susie hedges. "What theh hell happened up there?"

Kris takes a shaky breath. Without explaining, he shoves his hand into his chest. His fist thumps against his ribcage, then makes a sharp pull through the air.

Susie says, "You're having a heart attack? I dunno how to do CPR."

"It's my fault," he whispers. "I thought I could make it stop."

Susie's eyes narrow. "Make it... stop?"

"It wants Noelle."

"What the hell does Noelle have to do with this?"

Kris grabs her wrist, scarlet irises stark against the whites of his eyes. "Stop."

"Stop? What are you—?"

Kris lunges to his feet and slaps a hand over the tip of her snout. "Shut up," he hisses, glancing down the hall in Noelle's general direction. "It will hear us."

Susie's tolerance for avoidant bullshit is at an all-time low. As much as she'd love to resort to solving the problem in his stead, it's rare that Kris gets this upset about anything. She relents, and Kris steps back. Rather than speak, he gesticulates with trembling hands. Palm to his sternum, his fingers slowly curl to a fist and melt through his chest as if it's made of gelatin. His expression contorts but he doesn't so much as scream when he's up to his wrist in his ribcage. Susie isn't sure whether to be weirded out or impressed or a little nauseous. As he wrenches his hand free, a tiny red glow eminates within his trembling fist. He squeezes.

"Get me something to put this in," he says. It's the first time she's heard him speak above a murmur.

Susie looks around the room. Her eyes land on the snack bowl. She flips it upside down, spilling the contents over the table and making enough noise to warrant a thorough investigation.

"Something else!" Kris hisses. 

"Shit, give me a second!"

Their eyes settle on one of the decorative Santa dolls on the mantle. Without hesitation, Kris grabs his knife. Susie is a few steps ahead, snatching it off its resting place and pinning it down among the spilt snacks. She holds it steady as he slashes down the stomach, stuffing his whole wrist into the doll's cottony abdomen. His breathing evens, but he still looks a bit sick. "It uses me," he whispers. "Like two halves of a key. But it needs a different half."

"What the hell does any of this mean to me."

"I'm the keymaster, the soul is the gatekeeper. It's like Zuul."

"Okay. What the hell is a Zuul."

"Ghostbusters," Kris mumbles. "The bad guy. He possesses people to try and find the right one. Then he can reset the world—"

"—wait, so you're like the bad guy who possesses that one chick and makes her roll around and flirt with guys?"

Kris looks a little indignant. "It's not the same thing."

Susie snorts. "Oh my God. No wonder Noelle's so pissed off, is that what you said to—?"

Santa plush begins thrashing of its own accord. Kris smacks it against the table, disturbing the snacks and taking a little heat off of this poorly concieved analogy.

"The soul can't act without a vessel. A powerful Lightner." He looks at Susie. "It needed me."

Susie collects herself. "Wait, the SOUL was actually controlling you all this time? I just thought you were a weirdo."

Kris doesn't crack a smile. He leans against Susie for a moment. "It used me before. Not like this." Kris looks as if he's going to be sick again, but he steels himself. "It's acting strange. Makes me do things I would never do. Now Noelle is in danger, just like Berdly. But we can fix it. There's still time." Kris sets the knife on the table next to the Santa doll and fumbles for his cell phone, thrusting it towards her. "Dess. Call Dess."

"Dess?" Something about the name snaps Susie from her icy trance. "Noelle was just telling me about her. I don't think she's been home for a while." Kris gropes for the knife, raising his hand above his head. Susie snatches his wrist. "Wait, you're gonna make a Dark Fountain?" She gesticulates down the hall. "For Noelle?"

"Dess is waiting," he hisses. "She's the only one who can help Noelle."

"Not until you explain what's going on!" Susie grabs his knife-bearing wrist, lifting him cleanly off the ground. "Why the hell is Noelle in danger?"

Kris's face averts. He hangs limp in her grasp. "It wasn't me."

"This had better be the mother of all pranks," Susie hisses, baring teeth, "because if you did something stupid you're gonna WISH you were—"

The doorbell rings. Both of them freeze up. The Santa doll falls to the ground, freed from the knife. It trembles for a moment, like a newborn, before sliding across the floor with the velocity of a dog in a Little Tike.

"NO!" Kris thrashes in her grip. "You can't let them—"

"Shut up!" Susie can hold him off the ground with one hand, but he's thrashing around. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going—"

The cell phone starts making a lot of noise. Susie grabs it, ready to hurl it at the nearest sign of a threat or inconvenience. A terrible, sonorous howl fills the room and blocks out everything beyond the rumbling beneath them. Inky fog bursts from the vents at an inordinate volume, flooding the room. Susie's last thought before the room's geometry disintegrates is that Mrs. Holiday is in for one hell of a surprise when she comes home.

a/n: You can only imagine how badly I wanted to name the chapter THEN WHO WAS PHONE. Alas, I withheld the temptation for now.

[dragon-kazansky]

When the raven calls

Morpheus x Female Reader

You, his raven, die protecting Jessamy while rescuing the Dream Lord. When Morpheus returns to his realm, he mourns your loss, only to find a stranger waiting for him in his throne room. The stranger claims to be you, now in human form. He doesn't understand, but his raven will always watch over him.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Twelve - Hold my hand

☆☆☆

Fiddler's Green walks with Lucienne through the palace. Morpheus had already left. He seemed particularly worried when you were brought up and left in a hurry.

Gilbert didn't know Morpheus was unaware you had left The Dreaming. Now he, too, was worried about you.

"So, he spent the last century in the waking world," Gilbert asked. Lucienne was bringing him up to speed.

"Yes, but he seems to have experienced the worst of humankind."

"Still, his time there appears to have changed him as it has changed me," Gilbert says.

"How so?" Lucienne asks.

"Lucienne, he came to you and told you he was wrong. It was very nearly an apology. The Morpheus I knew was incapable of that."

"Then perhaps he will be merciful to you since you came back on your own," she suggests.

"Oh, it doesn't matter what happens to me. What matters is that Dream stops The Corianthian and saves Rose Walker."

"There is no saving Rose Walker." Lucienne tells him.

"Why on Earth would you say that?" He asks, looking at her with a deep frown.

"Do you not know?"

He stares at her.

"She's a vortex."

"Oh. Oh, dear. I should have realised."

Now he understands why you were there. You were looking for Rose, not The Corianthian. And Morpheus didn't know.

"What have I done? He's... He's going to have to kill her."

You were going there to protect her.

☆☆☆

"I didn't expect to see you here. Especially like this. I love the new look." The Corianthian smiles at you.

"I... I didn't know you were here."

The Corianthian seems pleased. This means you weren't here for him. You were here for Rose. Still, this could work out for him.

"No. Well, I was in town."

"Right... well... I should go..." You go to take a step away, but he casually strolls closer.

"What's the rush? Why don't you come with me to meet some new friends, hm?"

You feel fear set in. Another emotion you weren't used to. You haven't felt fear like this since... since Alex Burgess.

You get the feeling it might be safer to go along with him for now.

"Sure..."

He takes your hand and leads you upstairs. You can hear voices further down the hall. The Corianthian follows them with you in tow, seemingly knowing who it is.

They sound frantic.

As you round the corner, you see Rose and Jed trying to run away as a large man corners them.

The Corianthian drops your hand and approaches the man from behind. He does not hesitate to stab him in the back. You gasp sharply and take a step back as yo watch him.

So that's what he's been doing all this time. Killing humans.

The man falls to the ground, and The Corianthian looks at the pair as they look back at him in fear.

"Hello, Rose." He pulls his knife out the man's back and wipes it clean. "Don't worry. You're safe with me."

☆☆☆

"I'm not going to hurt you."

You sit on the bed with Rose beside you, and Jed beside her. The Corianthian stands facing you all. He's mostly talking to Rose because you knew he intended to use her for his sick games.

"You just killed that man," says Jed.

"I just saved your life again. And I'm trying to save yours." The Corianthian says, firstly speaking to Jed and then to Rose.

"From whom?" Rose asks.

"From Morpheus."

Hearing his name makes your heart speed up. You were really starting to miss him now.

"Who's Morpheus?" Jed asks, looking at Rose.

"Uh, Jeddy, can you give us a minute?"

Jed moves.

"You're one of the missing Nightmares," Rose says, looking at The Corianthian. She glances at you, too. She recognises you from The Dreaming also.

"And you are the Vortex." He grins.

"If you know that, then you know Morpheus is watching me," she says.

"You think he's watching you so he can protect you? He's watching you because the minute you fall asleep and start beigning the walls down between people's dreams, he's gonna kill you."

You look at Rose nervously.

"But if someone protected you, kept him from killing you, well then you'd become the centre of the Draaming. He'd be powerless, and I would be free." The Corianthian tells her.

There's a knock on the door, and you jump. The Corianthian chuckles. He goes to answer it.

Rose turns to you. "Is he right?"

"I..."

"You were with Morpheus in the Dreaming. You know him." She says. "Is what he said right?"

"I... I'm afraid so..."

"Is that why you're here?" She asks.

"No. No! I came to keep you safe. I won't let either of them hurt you."

Rose looks lost and confused. There isn't much else you can say right now. She sits down quietly. Moments later, the Corianthian comes back in.

"I'm gonna go downstairs for an hour. Will you wait for me?" He asks Rose.

"No. I'm taking Jed. We're going home." She says, standing up again.

"Okay. Yeah, you can go if you want, but obviously, it's not safe for you to be wandering around the hotel. And if you leave the hotel, Dream's Raven will find you."

He side eyes you knowing that as soon as you get outside, you'll turn back into a raven, and Morpheus will be able to find you.

"I'll tell you what. This is your room. You can both keys. I'll come back in an hour. I'll knock. If you want, you can let me in. But if not, I'll go away. Lock the door when I leave, because you never know." He adjusts his glasses.

He then turns to you. "You're coming with me."

You want to tell him no, but as things are, it's probably best you don't fight him. Rose watches you as you walk past the Corianthian and step out into the hall. He soon follows you out, the door closing behind him.

☆☆☆

You follow him into a large hall full of people. They're all sat looking at a stage. Just being in here sends uncomfortable shivers down your spine. You are aware that every single one of these people is bad. Murderers. Killers.

The Corianthian wants to use Rose to make their dreams come true, and you really start to realise how deep in the hole you are.

He guides you to a chair, and you sit down quietly and slowly. He smiles as he sits beside you, one arm around the back of your chair to prevent you from fleeing, now that you would even attempt such a thing in here.

The man on the stage starts talking, but you're not listening. You keep looking around the room, keeping an eye out for anything. You're afraid.

You're afraid, and you're alone.

You miss Morpheus.

The Corianthian gets called up on stage. He smiles and nudges you to rise with him. He's not letting you get away. He leads the way to the stage and climbs on up. There are some seats free on the front row. You're guided to sit directly in front of him where he can see you at all times.

The applause dies down.

"I don't usually speak in public, but the opportunity to talk to so many people who share the same passion, the same dream, well, it was just too good to pass up. Because you are special people. Very special people. We are the American dreamers driving down the holy road of true knowledge that's paved with blood and gold."

You want to get out of here. You want to leave. You want Morpheus. You want to apologise to him and change his mind about Rose. You never should have got so upset with him.

The Corianthian keeps talking. You're not fully listening. You're wishing silently. Wishing for a way out.

"So just do me a favour." You look up at the Corianthian as he says that. "Close your eyes. And see yourselves as I do."

You look around you. They've all closed their eyes like he asked.

"We are gladiators. Conquerors. We are explorers... truth seekers. We are swashbucklers. We are hunters. Soldiers of fortune."

He stops talking for a second. You follow his gaze and feel your heart race.

Morpheus.

He's here. He's found you.

You smile.

Morpheus shifts his gaze from the Corianthian to you. He looks relieved to see you. You would get up and run to him, but you're still afraid.

Morpheus looks back up at the Corianthian.

"And kings of the night." The Corianthian adds.

Morpheus keeps his gaze fixed on his missing Nightmare.

"You disappoint me, Corianthian." He walks slowly down the aisle. "You and these humans you've inspired and created... disappoint me."

"I've done my best to be what you made me."

"No, you've done your worst, which was in so many ways what I had hoped." Morpheus says.

As he comes to where you sit, he holds out his hand. He doesn't take his eyes away from the Corianthian, but you understand the hand is for you.

You take it. His fingers curl around yours as he leads you up onto the stage with him.

"You were my masterpiece. A dark mirror made to reflect everything humanity will not confront."

Morpheus makes sure he puts himself between you and the Corianthian.

"That's what I am." Corianthian says. "That's what I've done."

"No. Look at you, walking this Earth for over a century, infecting others with your joy of death, but what have you given them? What have you wrought? Nothing. Just something else for people to be afraid of. That is all."

"So what now? You send me back to their dreams?" Corianthian asks. He pulls out a dagger from inside his coat. "Cause I won't go willingly."

Morpheus stares at him. "A knife against a dream?" He steps forward. You go to pull at his coat to stop him, but he moves quicker than you.

"You don't think dreams can die? Let's find out." The Corianthian smiles.

"Enough." Morpheus raises his hand, but the Corianthian does not hesitate to stab the dagger through his hand. You gasp and rush to Morpheus's side as he looks at his wounded hand. It bleeds.

Morpheus looks up at him. "How?"

"I've got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker. She's taking your place at the center of the Dreaming. She's bringing the walls down between the sleepers' minds, and now they're all dreaming the same dream. A dream that I inspired."

You cradle Dream's hand between your own and look at him softly, but he keeps his eyes on the Corianthian.

"No."

"It's already happening. There's nothing you can do. She's asleep and dreaming."

"Then, she's not beyond my reach," Morpheus says.

"Oh, I think she is. Now that she knows you're planning to kill her."

☆☆☆

"You need to wake up!"

"Don't listen to him, Rosebud."

Morpheus entwined his fingers with yours and used what little power he had against Rose to project himself into the dream she was in. He was using you to amplify his power as a being created in the Dreaming.

The Corianthian appears behind Rose. "You're the one with power now, not him. This is your dream."

"It's his dream, for you world." Morpheus guides you into the horrible stale morge like room, his hand closed around yours.

"Then let's make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas." The Corianthian says to her.

Everyone else, including Jed, vanishes from the room. It's just you, Dream, Rose, and the Nightmare.

"Where's Jed?" Rose asks.

"He's fine. He's upstairs, asleep. He's right next to you." The Corianthian tells her. "This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now."

"The Dreaming is yours. Is that what he told you?" Morpheus asks.

"He told me you were going to kill me."

"Did he tell you why?"

Rose doesn't answer. You look at Morpheus sadly. You had hoped to protect her, but he was still going to kill her...

"When a vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself and take the waking world with it." Your world. Everything and everyone will die."

"Don't believe him, Rosie." The Corianthian says, directly into her ear.

"It's happened before," Morpheus explains. "I failed my duty. An entire universe was lost."

"He can't kill you if you kill him first." The Corianthian takes out his dagger again.

You grab Dream's arm, but he once again doesn't spare you a glance. You didn't want anyone to die.

"Killing me may save your life, but it won't save the lives of those you love."

"I'm trying to keep you alive here." The Corianthian argues.

"I'm trying to keep your world alive," Morpheus argues back.

"You have to choose one of us, Rose." The Corianthian urges her.

"Enough!" She says.

You hold Morpheus's hand tightly in your own, standing as close as possible to him. The dream around you all starts to waver.

"If I'm as powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way," Rose states. "In the meantime, the walls go back up." She starts shutting away the dreams. "Because I'm not dreaming anymore. Thanks to you two, I'm wide awake."

She wakes up.

You find yourself back in the hall. Morpheus has let go of your hand. You stare at it with longing. His long fingers twitch at his side slightly, yet he spares you not a single glance.

The wound on his hand heals like it was never there.

"If you think I'm going back to the Dreaming with you-" The Corianthian says.

"You're not going back."

You look at Morpheus.

"I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it."

"Do you know why I do it?" The Corianthian asks. "So I can taste what it's like to be human. And you don't care about humanity. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules."

"I contain the entire collective unconscious." Morpheus says softly. "Without my rules, it would consume me. Humanity will be consumed."

"Or you might actually feel something. I am not the problem, Dream."

"You're right. This was my fault. Not yours."

You keep your eyes on the dream lord.

"I had so much hope for you." Morpheus tells him softly. "But I crated you poorly then."

You hear the way the Corianthian's breath chokes slightly. He's upset. You feel something twist inside lf you.

"So I must uncreate you now."

You find yourself stepping back as Morpheus raises his hand up to the Nightmare. He starts to burn away.

"I am only sorry I won't be here to see Rose Walker do the same to you." The Corianthian says finally.

A pile of sand sits on the ground and atop it rests a small skull, representing The Corianthian.

You watch as Morpheus kneels down and picks the skull up. He lifts it and holds it high, looking at it. "Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed and petty, little Dream."

He wraps his fingers around the skull and turns to the humans in the room, adressing them.

"And you... who call yourselves 'collectors', until now, you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims, comforting daydreams in which you are always right. But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgement upon you, that you shall know from this moment on exactly how craven and selfish and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered."

You look at Morpheus quietly. The way he looks at them. The disdain in his voice. They used his gift for horrible purposes. Your hrlesrt yearns to reach out to him, but you resist. It's not proper. It's not right.

"And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time."

All those people get up and leave. Morpheus watches them go. He doesn't look at you once.

When the hall is empty, you look at him again. You part your lips to say something, but he starts walking away, right past you, without a word.

You follow him.

When you get outside and see everyone getting into their cars, Matthew swoops down and lands next to Lord Morpheus. You keep your distance behind him.

Rose drives past.

"You want me to follow her?" Matthew asks.

"No. When she is awake, she is not a threat. Tonight, when she sleeps, I will find her. And we will end this."

"Dream..." You call him gently, but he doesn't respond.

You return to the Dreaming.

☆☆☆

@missdreamofendless

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@sitkafay

@snowsatsu

@ladyofketterdam

@thoughtsfromlayla

@modest-irish-goddess

@mystic-mara

@dreamingblueberries

@littlemoistcarrot

@simpingdeadcharacters

@bluespecs14

@modest-irish-goddess

@theyluvmimi

[pillowspace]

Hello! I know i'm a bit late now but i just caught up on Celestial Sundown and I love your writing! I was looking through the tag and saw the ask you answered about probably not continuing it but willing to answer questions. If you still plan on not finishing it could you share what you had planned for it? Specifically i'm curious about what eclipse was going to do (or at least what they planned on doing) with y/n in the next chapter, but if you feel like sharing what you had planned for the rest of the story I would love to hear that too!

Weather you answer this or not i hope you have a great day/night!

It's a bit hard to gather all the memories considering I lost my file with my plans in it when I switched phones (eh idc, it was all messy anyway), but let me think ummm!

Eclipse was going to drag Y/N off... they'd carry them towards Sun's general direction because Y/N's struggling to walk, but then eventually Eclipse would also start struggling to walk as they would get all goopy and just generally Unwell. So Eclipse would sit Y/N down somewhere by the trees and they'd talk. Ah-! Notably, I believe there wassss... a scene where Y/N asks if Eclipse is talking about "Sun," though by just simply asking "Sun?". Because Sunna (Eclipse's sun half) also technically went by the name Sun, Eclipse would sort of freeze up and Stare, before Y/N elaborates on what they're asking and Eclipse gets a little bitter to learn that the god of Day would go by the name "Sun" of all names. It feels a tad bit disrespectful, even if the children are the ones who nicknamed them that.

After a bit of tense conversation, they'd move on to walking again, and I think Sun was meant to find them. Things don't really work out for Eclipse due to the fact that Eclipse is currently more injured than Sun is, so in a last ditch effort, Eclipse brings Y/N to the Celestial Realm, which of course freaks Y/N out the second they realize what's happening. It wouldn't be exploratory though, only brief, as they would end up appearing in a dark room within the castle Eclipse resides in. Something about the air would feel different though, wrong. Eclipse would leave Y/N there to go recover or get something for them, whichever it was. Thennn... Vanny/Vanessa/whatever would have appeared, telling Y/N that they're not supposed to be here yet, they'd talk a tiny bit, and then she would send Y/N back home? Sorry, I don't remember much of the specifics of that conversation?? Upon appearing back home, Y/N would then feel nauseous and somehow deeply Wrong, like briefly being outside of their own realm then returning suddenly made them realize just how much it feels like the air is outright rejecting them. But that the Celestial Realm also didn't feel much better either. Y/N doesn't have much time to think about it before Sun is there at their side. From there, Sun would work on treating them for the next few days, in a bit of a mirror to how Y/N had treated Sun at one point. I... cannot recall if Y/N also grew sick or if it was just the injuries.

Oh! Right! During the conversation with Eclipse, I believe Eclipse mentioned the fact that um... gosh, I don't know, um um um. Either that they had intended to kill Sun, that Sun was injured enough that he would have died had Y/N not meddled with it, or that Eclipse would have returned after having woken up to deal a killing blow if again Y/N hadn't treated him. SOMETHING along the lines of "Sun would be dead if it weren't for you." Y/N would eventually bring this up to Sun after mostly recovering, and it would sort of unintentionally burst any wiggle room Sun had in physically being able to pretend that he had a normal debt and not a life debt. I've mentioned this once, but there's a very big difference between a debt and a life debt. If you have a life debt, the person involved sort of... Owns you. They can demand anything of you, and you wouldn't be able to refuse. A life debt is also extremely hard to get rid of. It's seen in Celestial Realm's cultures that having a life debt with a human is very bad and leads to gods being forced into their lowliest position, like a pet on a leash that can be demanded to do anything practically. Sun panics the moment they lose their little shield of "well I COULD have lived without you...!" Even if the two of them want to trust each other, they don't trust each other ENOUGH for a life debt to not cause Sun fear. Upon realizing why Sun is suddenly so freaked out, Y/N quickly reshapes their speech habits to not have any commanding language. Over the next little while, Y/N would build trust up with Sun again and assure him again and again that they would never demand anything of him, and that this life debt hasn't changed anything for them. They didn't want anything before, and they don't want anything now. No matter how easy it would be.

That's less just NEXT chapter, and more what the next few chapters would've probably been. Of course, there was way more plans for the general storyline, but I... I wouldn't really know where to begin with all that without a specific question, and this answer's gotten long enough already.

You have a great day/night too!!!

[sunny374940]

I will be waiting with open arms pt.3

Hello and welcome back to my sadness corner (though this one seems to be the least sad of the three, but probably ready your tissues? Just in case). This (hopefully truly last) chapter centres on Emmrich waiting in the afterlife, just like he promised. (Start from part 1 here, if you want to)

Cw: character death, off screen

@mercars-musings, @redheadsramblings, @sorrowsfallallaround come be sad with me?

Here on ao3

And here are my other stories

“He kissed me for the first time right under this statue, you know?”

“Yes, dad, I know. You've told me a few times”

“Did I?”

The voices were laughing, though there seemed to be an undercurrent of sadness to them and Emmrich wondered idly who they were. He was lying on his back in soft grass, sunlight was warming his skin and he hadn't felt this good in a long time.

He stretched his arms and was surprised to discover that he could actually raise them all the way up, a feat that he had been unable to perform for quite a few years, ever since old age slowly started taking his mobility away. He sat up and stared at his hands. His wedding band was there, a constant presence for the past, hmm, thirty nine years. He had been hoping to celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary, but alas…

Wait, what?

Oh, of course. He died.

“The Shroud's Kiss is blooming, should I pick some for you to take home?”

“No, bug, thank you. I'd rather come to admire them here. It will give me an excuse to visit him.”

“Aw, you're such a sap.”

“What can I say? Your daddy might have influenced me a little bit.”

He was studying his hands and they looked stronger than he remembered them being, less wrinkled. But the voices were niggling at him, so familiar, yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

“Let's get going, dad. Rupert and Manfred will need us.”

“You're right, we've moped long enough.”

“Goodbye, daddy.”

“Goodbye, Emmrich. We'll visit again soon.”

“Rook! Ellie!”

It was them! He could hear them! But they couldn't hear him, it seemed.

“I'm so mad at you! It's been a year and it doesn't get any easier. I hate you for leaving me here!”

Rook was crying and Emmrich felt unshed tears stinging at his eyes.

"I'm sorry, darling. I miss you too.”

He knew Rook didn't hear him, but it made him feel better to respond.

“Your letter started tearing at the edges, I've been reading it too much. Ellie got me a frame for it, so it wouldn't get destroyed. She's so kind, Emmrich, just like you.”

Their sweet Ellie. Emmrich missed her so much, missed all of them. He buried his face in his hands and allowed himself to cry.

“Did you know that Rupert and his husband wanted to elope? The little buggers! Can you imagine not seeing your only grandchild get married? But I gave them a piece of my mind and they agreed to have a small ceremony in our garden, just like we had. It was amazing, I wish you could have seen them.”

He could imagine not seeing his only grandchild get married, actually, and he laughed to himself, picturing Rook's indignant expression as he was relaying the news. He missed seeing him.

“Hi, grandpa. I got married, but I think grandad already told you. We’re adopting a little girl, but he doesn't know that yet, so keep it a secret, okay?”

“Don't you worry, dear boy, I won't spoil the surprise.”

Rook would be so excited! A great-grandchild! He envied him a tiny bit.

“I'm getting old, you know. I can't come by as often as I'd like. I'm sorry, love. But I think about you all the time and the memories help me keep going. I love you, Emmrich, I always will.”

“I love you too, darling,” he whispered, wiping at the tears falling from his eyes.

“Hi, daddy. Dad can't come anymore, he's too sick, but he sends his love. And lots of kisses. I- I miss you so much.”

She was sobbing and his heart was breaking for her.

“I love you, my darling girl.”

Time seemed to pass strangely and Emmrich wasn't sure how long he'd been here, but discovered through his family's visits that it had been about twelve years since he died. He wasn't entirely alone in this place, there were spirits coming through and the odd soul as well, but they were always moving on to somewhere else. But he told Rook that he would wait, and so he did.

Over time he learned to feel Rook's presence through the flows of the Fade, though he only ever heard him when he visited the Memorial Gardens. Lately, that comforting presence had been growing weaker and he was restless with anticipation. Would he finally get to see him? Would Rook recognize him? He seemed to have returned to the way he looked around the time of their wedding, not that he complained, but the last time Rook saw him his looks were markedly different.

He was pacing around anxiously, when there was a sound like the rustle of yellowing leaves on a very particular cherry tree. He turned towards it and there he was, sitting up, blinking in the soft sunlight and he looked so young and he was here, he was really here after all this time!

“Emmrich?”

And Emmrich couldn't move an inch, could only spread his arms out for him.

“I did tell you I would wait for you, darling.”

Rook came rushing at him, knocking him off his feet with a hug and they were laughing and kissing and finally they were together again. For good, this time.

[hereyeswithoutaface]

A couple of fruits (act 2, part 4)

A/N: GUYS THIS GIF IS SENDING ME LMFAOOOO also it's my birthday in 6 days yayyy! right this chapter is a little sad....and mysterious hehehehe. barely any pookie lemon in this chapter i do apologize but he will be back next time i pinky promise (mostly because i miss him) AND i've almost finished the actual bullet train book, after like 6 months or something HELP ME LOLZZZ also what happens to Ash+Tan in this chapter is lowk inspired of this one episode of the punisher HAHSHAHHA okay i know the romancey bit of this chapter is so WEIRD but i think it really think it just highlights the characters and who they are, especially with Ash

TW: violence, smoking, violence, strong language, did i mention violence? blood, i can't write romance for shit,

An hour earlier, Ashley had been in the kitchen, sorting out the box and putting everything back in as the guys had left, leaving her in a peaceful quiet apartment.

However, the calm didn't last long, and a clatter of glass could be heard from her bedroom window. Without missing a beat, Ashley shot up and ran round to the kitchen counter, pulling out a sharp knife and clutching it tightly by her side as she walked quietly to the room. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around the handle of the door, and pulled it open, she wasn't about to just ring the police.

The second the door opened, the man saw her, and she hid quickly the blade behind her back, he didn't run at her at first, and tried to plaster a fake smile on his face, making 'light' conversation.

"Ah- sweetheart, hello. Would you mind telling me where the twins are?" He asked, a thick Armenian accent in his voice.

She couldn't believe her eyes, or ears- this guy had just broken into her apartment and was now trying to make casual conversation, but she was not stupid, she wouldn't tell him where they were. "Twins? I'm sorry but i don't got a clue who you're on about."

"Do not play stupid with me, the twins. Tangerine and Lemon, they owe me money. Where are they?" His face got slightly less fake-friendly on that sentence, and tilted his head.

Ash wasn't rising to his challenge though, and stayed completely casual, more making fun of him now, she scoffed loudly. "Tangerine and Lemon? Mate- are you on hard meth? What sort of names are those?"

"Shut up!" He suddenly snapped, brandishing a small compact silver gun, pointed right at her. "You know where they are, you bitch- i will not ask you again, where are the twins?"

And then suddenly, it wasn't so funny anymore, she gulped and took a step back, the knife still hidden from his view. "I don't know who you are talking about! You've got the wrong place!!" She was going to carry on lying if it was the last thing she would ever do.

"Lies! You know them- Ashley Edwards, you know all about them, they were here." He spat out her name like it was a sick disease, stepping closer to her as he did so.

That caught her off guard, why did this random bald guy know who she was? "Uh- how, how do you know my name?"

"Sweetheart-" He started, but she cut him off.

"Don't fucking call me that- you tosser."

"Okay, fine- bitch, in my line of work, we are very, how would you say...precise. And that means we locate anything that could help us find who we are looking for. And you, you don't make yourself very well hidden, i know everything about you, things you would never tell the twins. I know what you did to that girl, i know about the case, about the injury, about how she had to-"

His sentence was cut short, whilst he had been too busy staring her dead in the eyes, she had taken the opportunity to stab him in the stomach, causing him to gasp for a breach and clutch his stomach after she pulled her knife out.

"And in my line of work, we learn to do what we need to and listen to people talk at the same time." She gave him a cold bitter smile, wondering what he would do now.

He fired the gun, and she quickly jerked her head to the side, narrowly missing her head. Then, without warning, she threw a punch to his face, which he blocked and grabbed her arm, so she kneed him in the crotch. He groaned and twisted her arm back, she screamed and plunged the knife that was in her other hand into his leg, he let go and stumbled back. Before running right back at her.

The aggressive back and forth continued for a while, before Ashley managed to get the high ground and in a fit of rage and fear, clammed the knife over and over again into his chest, blood splattering everywhere. How did he know everything about her- especially the incident with the girl? She didn't want to think about it.

After a while she came to her senses, and slowly got up and stepped back, shaking with the bloody knife in her hand, she could see herself in the reflection, covered in this mans (and her own) blood, the knife glittering with the crimson red liquid dropping off it, she felt awful, animalistic, assassin-like. She sat on her bed and moved to the other side, trying not to look at the body, curling up in on herself, rocking back and forth slowly as she tried to calm down.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Where we left off last chapter.

The two sat there in a quiet moment alone, for a while. Tangerine was scared of speaking, not wanting to work her up again, or even more, because she evidently had not calmed down yet, but why would she? This was a new experience for her, dammit she had killed someone, it was not an easy thing to come to terms with for anyone. But luckily she was the one who ended up speaking first.

"He- tried to attack me, when i said i didn't know where or who you both were, he accused me of lying, and obviously i was, but that doesn't matter. He knew my name, Tan. He knew who i was. God, he even knew-" She stopped herself, she couldn't say, she wouldn't say.

"What? What did he know, Ash?" He asked, grabbing her face softly and turning her to look at him.

"I- nothing, it- it doesn't matter, i don't want to talk about it." She quickly shook her head, and lifted her right hand, sliding it into the breast pocket of his blazer and pulling out a cigarette, and a lighter, she set it up and took a drag, smoking had seemed to be the number one coping mechanism for anything that came in the way of the pair.

Tangerine didn't speak a word, he just took his jacket off and wrapped it around her, before he moved and stood up, walking out of the room to the bathroom. Once he got in there, he sighed and leaned against the door with his back tilted against the cold wood. Carefully, he put the plug in the bath and turned on the taps. He then pulled out his phone from his trouser pocket and dialed Lemon.

"Mate."

"I'm on a date, the fuck you want?"

"Some prick just tried attacking Ash, and now there's a dead body in her room."

"Who did it? You or her?...And are you in the bath?"

"Why would i be in the bath you wanker? It's for her, she also is the one who did it, yeah. Look i just need you to come over here and get rid of the body whilst i get this sorted out, she's real fucking scared."

"What about my date? She's gone bathroom- i can't just bloody ditch her."

"I don't give a shit Lem! Fucking get here."

"You owe me one."

As Tangerine ended the call with his brother, he glanced at the bath, noticing it was full, he turned off the water and checked the temperature, and walked back out the door.

She seemed to have known what she was doing, because she stood there in front of him, in just her bra and bloodied pants, staring at him with a cigarette in between her lips, she didn't even seem bothered as she stepped into the bathroom, he raised an eyebrow.

"You're gonna bathe fully clothed?" He laughed slightly, helping her in with a raised eyebrow, she was just as strange as the day he had met her.

"Yeah- what if the prick comes back to life or some shit- i don't want him seeing me butt ass naked. Here, take the cig." She shrugged slightly and handed him the lit cigarette, atleast her sense of humour was back.

He scoffed slightly and took a drag, kneeling down on the floor, rolling up his sleeves and washing the blood off her arms. "If anything ever kills us, it's gonna be these fucking things."

"Well i'm not planning on dying, i don't know about you." She shook her head and bit at her nails with a slightly distant expression.

"Oh yeah? Me neither love, we'll haunt the world forever." He spoke calmly as he exhaled a swirl of smoke and continued with his washing, the two falling into their usual comfortable silence.

[claymoresword]

I Choose Her | Chapter 15

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: Hermione x Reader

Wordcount: 4.3k

Warnings: character death, mentions of animal abuse, y/n and hermione are so protective of each other it's sick

Note: Hello! wow this one took forever, I feel bad that I'm always apologizing for delayed updates but oh well here we are :/ this one is more to move the plot forward and I wanted to follow canon in a way that would make sense for this story

anyway, as always thank you so much for the continued support and an even bigger thanks for your patience! crossing my fingers that updates will be more frequent from here on out. that's it, i hope you enjoy this one!

Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1

Hermione stands over you as you hold out the thick strand of hair, pinched in between your fingers.

Harry and Ron stare at it with bated breaths, the air in between the four of you is still; anticipating.

You didn't have to consider for too long to know it belonged to your mother. You had nearly mistaken it for your own, if it weren't for the grayish undertones, only fully visible when illuminated.

It seems every time you saw your mother, her hair would be a shade lighter. As time did its duty, as the years passed, the older each of you got, the less you resembled the other.

You don't see your mother when you look in the mirror, not anymore.

"Are you sure that's hers?" Ron asks as you rise from your crouching position.

The painful lump in your throat prevents you from answering him.

You swallow thickly.

"I'm sure." You finally say.

Silence once again, as Ron reaches out to carefully pick out the strand, retrieving it from your grip, he drops it into the flask he held in his other hand with even more precision.

The only noise that fills the air is a faint sizzle, as the polyjuice potion consumes its final ingredient.

You feel Hermione move to your side, her fingers curl around your bicep, her other hand firmly intertwines with yours.

"Are you certain we'll be allowed into Bellatrix's vault?" Harry asks, he looks at you expectantly and you grace him with an assured nod.

"I've seen my mother retrieve things for her dozens of times, it'll work." You claim, but Harry's immediate skepticism doesn't evade you, and honestly, you can't hold it against him.

Your plan is far from foolproof. Like many times before the four of you are simply hoping to get by on pure chance and luck.

"How do we know what it is, when we get in her vault? I mean, a Horcrux could be anything." Ron asks, a question you were all wondering.

"I'll know." Harry quips plainly.

You glance at Hermione to shoot her a look before returning your attention back to Harry.

"It's hard to explain but– I'll just know." He adds, and none of you wish to push on the subject further.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You watched as Hermione lifted the flask filled with polyjuice to her lips, but then she pauses. Her shoulders rise as she takes a deep breath, as if preparing herself.

"Wait–" You interject, rising from the bed, in three large strides you are standing before your girlfriend.

"Let me drink it." You then place a hand over Hermione's, but she pries it off lightly.

"No, I'll do it." She counters, and you don't attempt to mask your disapproval.

"You can't drink it." Hermione reiterates.

"When we get to Gringotts, it'll appear more believable with you by my side, you know it." She adds, and you hate that Hermione is right.

You sigh.

"Darling, it's too dangerous." You breath out, your hand travels up her forearm, eventually tenderly cupping her face.

Hermione instinctively shuts her eyes at the sensation, she leans into your touch, her muscles no longer tense, her body visibly reacts to your warmth.

"We're all in danger." She finally claims, once your eyes meet again.

"This is the only way. There's another Horcrux hidden in her vault, we just have to find it." Hermione states assuredly but it does nothing to convince you of the plan.

You remain staring at your girlfriend, Hermione always had a way of making your heart feel like it could just implode within your chest.

You are overcome with love, care, and longing, all of these feelings encapsulated in the sheer dread of what's to come, of what might happen.

Hermione finds no trouble in returning your gaze.

This wordless exchange lasts for several seconds until Hermione decides to take advantage of your unmoving state. She leans in, passionately capturing your lips with her own.

Your hands quickly shift to rest on her waist, you then feel Hermione's hand move to the back of your head, pulling you closer.

You are taken aback as she opens her mouth wider, deepening the kiss, soon enough her tongue makes contact with your own.

You have no air left in your lungs, but the last thing you wish to do is pull away.

Hermione lets out a light hum as she presses her body up against yours; her eagerness causes your entire body to tremble, you worry your legs might give out at any moment.

The kiss ends as abruptly as it began.

A sharp gasp leaves Hermione's lips as she takes a step back, as if it proved a real struggle for her to cease the kiss.

Soon a sense of euphoria overcomes your entire being, even if it is fleeting, you feel at peace and it translates into a boyish grin across your face.

Hermione notices, and she has to bite her bottom lip to hide a smile herself.

She places a lingering hand over your chest before shoving you away playfully.

"Go on, wait outside. I'll meet you there." Hermione orders, and you know better than to protest.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You continued to pace back and forth, the usually maddening feeling of sand repeatedly filling your shoes does nothing to distract you.

Trepidation rapidly materializes within you the longer you waited for your girlfriend.

By taking the Polyjuice and assuming your mother's identity, Hermione is putting herself in immense danger, and you are expected to stand by and simply witness it, again.

"It'll be fine." You hear Harry's voice, but you don't acknowledge him.

You can't feel anything beyond the incessant pounding in your head; you possessed barely any strength at all, you mustered just enough to stomach this.

Soon enough, Hermione emerges from the hut and the sight you are met with is unsettling.

The woman standing before you appears to resemble your mother. Wearing the clothes your mother would wear, there was no trace of Hermione, beyond her voice.

Harry and Ron fail to speak alongside your silence. Hermione looks between the three of you impatiently.

"So, how do I look?" She asks, and you can't help but grimace.

"Disturbing." You quip.

Then you had no choice but to look away.

"Come on, let's just get this over with." You release an exasperated breath and Harry emerges next to you with Griphook.

"Griphook you give that to Hermione to hold onto, alright?" The man states, but it mainly sounded like a warning.

The Goblin lets out a subtle gripe as he hesitates, before eventually sheathing the steel into your girlfriend's bag.

"You get us into Bellatrix's vault, and the sword is yours." Harry reassures.

Ron finally takes out his wand so he may alter his own appearance, with a single wave, his hair is inches longer. The beard that appears on his face ages him, and makes him nearly unrecognizable.

"Now remember the plan, I'll be under the cloak with Griphook. Y/n and Hermione you'll try to convince the Goblin to let you through. Ron, you stand back in case anything happens." Harry runs through the plan once more and this time you don't suppress a scoff.

Hermione grabs your arm, wordlessly asking for you to stand down.

"This is a terrible plan." You say it anyway, and Harry doesn't retaliate, instead he nods in agreement.

"I know. But it's still the best one we've got."

════════════════════════════════════════════

You had to remind yourself to breathe as you walked through the doors of Gringotts.

Although certain the anxiety you are feeling at this moment is incomparable to the terror Hermione must be experiencing.

You had to battle every instinct urging you to reach out and hold your girlfriend's hand.

Ron trails closely behind the two of you, Harry and Griphook somewhere close by, hidden by the cloak of invisibility.

You brace yourselves once you get to the podium, a moment passes, but the Goblin on duty fails to acknowledge your presence entirely.

Hermione takes it upon herself to clear her throat.

Still, nothing.

She glances at you for help, and you nod, urging her to speak.

"I wish to enter." Your girlfriend states curtly, her best attempt to appear menacing.

In any other instance you would find it a little humorous, but right now, Hermione's poor imitation only makes you wince.

The Goblin fails to acknowledge either of you still, your patience rapidly thinning out.

"My mother has been sent to clear out Madam Lestrange's vault. I am certain you understand why you mustn't delay us." You say and the creature finally looks up.

His entire demeanor shifts, but it only helped to annoy you further.

"Madam, forgive me I did not realize it was you." Bogrod says, feigned cordiality.

"Of course you may enter.. but first, do you mind presenting your wand?" He adds and there is a pause.

You can sense Hermione's panic, but she tries her best to maintain a composed front.

She folds her arms over her chest.

"I hardly think that's necessary." Hermione states.

"I'm afraid I must insist." The Goblin's grin falters, and you realized you had to quickly step in

"Why?" You say, instinctively stepping forward, partially shielding Hermione with your body.

"New policy, I'm afraid." Bogrod explains, but before you can argue your case, the creature's expression shifts.

Your eyes catch the waft of green smoke seeping into the Goblin's nostrils.

You manage a quick glimpse of what looked like the tip of a wand being retracted, it disappears seemingly into thin air.

Y/n quickly realizes that Harry has sensibly, stepped in before things got ugly.

In an instant, the Goblin changes his tune.

"Very well, Madam, if you will follow me." He says with a dopey smile.

You hear Hermione let out a sigh of relief, you can't help but do the same.

════════════════════════════════════════════

The ride through the dungeons was nothing close to pleasant. The cart transporting you zoomed at an unfathomable speed, the abrupt turns and twists would have made you nauseous, if you weren't feeling sick already.

Hermione continues clutching your hand in hers, tighter than usual, your grip is similar in turn.

Finally, the cart halts, and before you know it, the six of you are free falling dozens of feet.

You reach for your wand in your pocket but Hermione beats you to it.

"Arresto Momentum!" She exclaims, and your bodies hang mid air, inches from the ground. Soon the spell wears off, the six of you fall onto the cold, wet, stone, front first.

"Thank you, Hermione." Harry says, as he helps himself off the ground.

You quickly do the same, rushing over to help your girlfriend up.

Hermione gladly takes your hand, when your eyes meet, you notice her appearance, she is back to her usual self.

The Polyjuice potion had entirely worn off but Bogrod, still under the Imperius curse, is unable to do anything about it.

"Come on, this way." Griphook shouts, he leads the four of you to the vaults.

He navigates the dark cavern with ease, as you try to get your eyes to adjust, a piercing screech fills the air, and it causes both you and Hermione to glance at each other.

You warily follow Griphooks lead, but the sight you're met with when the six of you turn the corner makes your breath catch in your throat.

"That's a Ukrainian Ironbelly–" Ron points out, awe and disbelief you shared.

Then Griphook picks up an object you quickly deduced to be a certain type of bell. As he shakes it, the dragon's screeching intensifies, it flails around as if trying to escape the noise.

It was only then you noticed the thick metal chains around its neck and legs.

"It's been trained to expect pain when it hears this sound." The creature claims and Hermione releases you so she may step forward, following his lead.

She speaks once she is in earshot of the Goblin.

"That's barbaric." Your girlfriend says, a certain tenor to her voice, you knew her well enough to recognize that she was truly indignant.

The dragon's screeching continues as the four of you slip past it.

It only retreats to cowers silently in the corner once the noises from the bell stops.

The vault is now in sight, as the group approaches you can't help but notice that Bogrod has disappeared.

You glance out at where you spotted the Goblin last and sure enough. He was standing in front of the dragon, simply staring at it; the curse has evidently impaired his judgment and all sense of danger.

"Wait– what do we do with him?" You gesture to Bogrod.

Although before anyone can respond, the Ukrainian Ironbelly takes a large step forward, then from its mouth, comes flames, big and blistering enough to turn the entire space scorching hot in an instant.

The once Goblin was now burnt to nothing but ash.

Hermione, Y/n and the boys only manage to stare in utter shock.

"That's unfortunate." Ron finally quips.

"Come on, we don't have much time." Griphook warns, he advances forward and the four of you follow.

As you arrive at the vault, it appears familiar to you, but only distantly.

It was not the vault Snape led you to a few months ago but it appears almost identical.

"Is this where you got the sword?" Hermione asks in a hushed tone, and you quickly shake your head.

"No, the key Snape gave me led to a different vault." You explain, but your girlfriend doesn't say anything, expecting your response.

As the five of you enter Bellatrix's vault, it is worse than you expected.

It is filled with random trinkets, some valuable, some not.

The three of you sport a defeated expression, but Harry was not going to give up so easily.

He steps forward.

"It's in here, I can sense it." He states.

You observe silently as The Chosen One approaches a particular cup, amidst an array of objects that look nearly identical to it.

Soon enough he reaches for it.

Harry holds out the cup, nothing is said, but there is an energy that reverberates through the air.

It's unmistakable. He has a Horcrux in hand.

"Pass me the sword." He extends his arm and Hermione scrambles through her bag, eventually retrieving the steel.

She passes it to Harry, he grips the pommel, but doesn't get the chance to do much else as a noise captures your attention.

Ron knocks over a goblet by accident, instead of breaking as it touches the ground, it only multiplies.

As the duplicate makes contact with another object it does the same thing. Soon objects are spawning at a rapid rate, filling up the already limited vacant space by your feet.

"What's happening?" Hermione exclaims over the loud noise, you instinctively step to her side as she nearly loses her balance.

"It's an enchantment, everything you touch will multiply." The Goblin explains, you aren't given much chance to come up with an escape plan as the objects quickly engulf all five of you.

For what felt like eternity, you fought to keep your head above.

You spot Hermione and Ron doing the same, but you can't see Harry anymore.

Amidst the chaos, somehow, Griphook gets a hold of the Horcrux.

Then, Harry finally emerges from the sea of gold and silver. He frantically looks around, in search of the object, but his attention shifts to the Goblin as he proudly holds up the Horcrux.

"We had a deal, Griphook!" Harry bellows, and the creature only grins, malicious, irritating.

"The cup for the sword!" He strikes up the bargain, and you curse under your breath.

It is getting increasingly difficult to stay afloat, and you watched as Hermione and Ron struggled the same.

Harry begrudgingly hands over the sword, the Goblin then returns the Horcrux back to him.

"I said I'd get you in, I never said anything about getting you out." Griphook quips, he holds his hand up against the door, unlocking it.

Soon the objects begin spilling out of the vault after him but the four of you continue to struggle to make your way to the exit.

If only you could retrieve your wand, you could stop the Goblin from going any further.

"Hermione, can you reach your wand?" You shout, and the struggle in your girlfriend's face is evident.

"I'm trying!" She replies.

After moments of struggle, the four of you miraculously manage to make your way out, but it was too late.

The Goblin is nowhere to be seen.

"Griphook!" Harry calls out in anger, he doesn't expect a reply, and he doesn't receive one.

His voice echoes through the dungeons, and it only works to disturb the dragon ahead.

It lets out another deafening screech.

You approach slowly, in search of the object that you know will subdue the beast, but you can't find it anywhere and you know for certain Griphook is the reason for it.

"The bell- it's gone." You don't try to conceal your distress.

"That foul creature– how are we supposed to get out of here?" Ron curses and you begin looking around for some type of solution, an idea to come to you.

You take an experimental step forward; careful, quiet.

You consider that perhaps, if you moved slowly, the dragon won't react.

However, your theory was quickly proven incorrect as the beast storms towards you within the confines of its chains, soon opening its mouth.

You were only inches away from getting charred alive before Hermione harshly grabbed your arm, yanking you to her side.

The pins you up against the pillar, out of the dragon's sight.

Ron and Harry stood a few paces away, their backs also against the wall.

"What on earth was your plan there?" Hermione hisses, and you are staggered for a moment.

You've never seen her so furious with you.

"I just thought if I moved quietly–" You start, but then another loud noise pierces the atmosphere.

Clearly, your stunt only exacerbated the dragon's already agitated state.

The sounds that follow suggest that the formidable beast was now fighting to be released from its restraints.

"Don't you ever try something like that again–" Hermione warns, her hand still gripping your collar.

You nod apologetically, suddenly you almost feel like a child being reprimanded.

Your girlfriend finally loosens her grip on your shirt.

The beast's actions begin to get larger and louder, in its outrage it clamours at the stone walls, chipping large pieces off.

"What a joke– did we go through all of that just to die in here?" Ron quips.

"We can't apparate.." Your girlfriend mumbles to herself, mentally debating an escape plan.

"Hermione?" Harry asks, it sounds closer to a desperate plea.

You were all stumped, only hoping that the mostly brilliant mind out of the four of you will manage to think of a plan to escape.

Hermione finally looks up at you, and by the look on her face you can tell whatever it might be; she's figured something out.

"I've got an idea, but it's mad." She admits, with a raised voice and truth be told you hated the sound of that.

Harry and Ron stare at her expectantly and you only grow more nervous by the second.

Hermione turns to y/n, you don't speak a word to her but it is not required as she already senses your anxiety, she places a firm hand on your chest right above your heart, you were certain she can feel it pounding against her palm.

"Just trust me." She reassures, too swiftly for your liking, as she completes her sentence she retreats.

You can only anticipate her next move, and it is not one you'd ever expect, in fact it nearly sends you into an early grave.

You watched as Hermione leaped off the balcony, landing on the dragon's back.

"Hermione!" You exclaim.

She struggles to get a grip of the beast for a moment, you are stunned when the dragon stills, it doesn't try to force Hermione off it's back.

"Come on!" Your girlfriend shouts, and you were first to mirror her earlier action. With a single large leap you manage to grab onto the dragon's horns, you pull yourself up, situating yourself behind Hermione.

The dragon reacts the same, but it is too fixated on the chains wrapped around its neck to care.

Soon enough Harry and Ron manage to climb on as well.

There is a point of eery stillness as the dragon seemingly appears too tired to continue fighting.

"Now what?" Harry poses a good question, and you take it upon yourself to fish out your wand.

"Relashio!" In one swift move, you fling the spell, aiming for the dragon's tail.

The beast reacts violently, in the process, the spell breaks the chains tethering it to the ground, finally freeing the beast from its restraints.

"Defodio!" Your girlfriend exclaims as she holds out her own wand, and soon enough, the dragon takes flight, bursting through the ceiling.

In an instant, Gringotts Bank is reduced to fragments of wood, glass and stone as the dragon flees the building, taking the four of you with it.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You have been on dragonback for what felt like hours, however an uncanny feeling of serenity, fills you as the beast flew through the air, past villages and hillsides.

As you approach the vast water, the dragon begins to fly lower; it appears the beast aims to halt its tiresome journey through the city soon.

"We're dropping!" Harry exclaims, panic begins to set in amongst the four of you once again.

"I say we jump!" Ron suggests, but you aren't particularly fond of the idea.

"What?" You bark.

"When?" Hermione chimes in.

"Now!" Harry responds as he lets go, you watched as he falls into the freezing water below.

He is quickly followed by Ron and Hermione, and you let out a groan as you release your grip on the dragon.

"Damn you, Weasley!" You exclaim as you freefall into the lake.

As your body touches the water, it immediately feels like hundreds of blistering hot knives are incessantly puncturing your skin.

It is almost unbearable, but then your head rises to the surface and pure instinct kicks in. The four of you, with some difficulty, eventually manage to swim to shore.

-

Hermione grabs your hand to help you up, in your weakened state you barely manage to climb the cliff.

Harry storms ahead, seemingly unaffected, no doubt driven by pure adrenaline.

"He knows." He blurts out.

"You know who." Harry explains, and Hermione lets go of your hand to catch up to the dark haired man.

"He knows we broke into Gringotts, he knows what we took, and he knows we're hunting Horcruxes." He admits.

"How is it you know?" You ask, jogging slightly to catch up, Ron following closely behind.

"You let him in?" Hermione asks, her tone dissaproving.

"Harry you can't do that–" She says but her bestfriend interrupts.

"Hermione, I can't always help it! Or maybe I can, I don't know." He retaliates.

"Never mind that, what happened?" You interject.

The four of you halt as you get to the top of the cliff.

"Well, he's angry– and scared too." Harry starts, he holds out his hands as Hermione retrieves her bottle of Essence Of Dittany from her bag.

She places a few drops on his palms, doing the same on yours, and then Ron's.

You rub your hands together as Harry continues speaking.

"He knows if we can find and destroy all the Horcruxes, we'll be able to kill him. I reckon he'll do anything to stop that happening." Harry finishes and you scowl at the thought.

Soon, the boys begin stripping so they may change into dry clothes.

Hermione instead retrieves a large blanket from her bag, she drapes it over you, before pulling you close to her body so she may share your warmth.

"There's more– one of them's at Hogwarts." Harry explains.

"What?" Ron says in disbelief and his friend only nods.

"You saw it?" Your girlfriend asks, skeptical.

Harry nods again.

"I saw the castle, and Rowena Ravenclaw. It must have something to do with her, we have to go there now." The Chosen One states, assuredly.

"What? We can't do that, we've got to plan, we've got to figure it out." Hermione counters.

"Hermione when have any of our plans ever actually worked?" Harry recounts, his gaze shifting between y/n, Hermione and Ron.

"We plan, we go there, all hell breaks lose." The dark haired man states, and neither of you have an argument, he was stating the plain truth.

"He's right– just one problem." Ron starts.

"Snape's headmaster now, we can't just walk through the front door."

Then there's a pause.

You can feel Hermione shivering against you, you swiftly wrap an arm around her, an attempt to keep her as close as possible.

"Well, then we'll go to Hogsmeade. To Honeydukes– take the secret passage." Harry offers a solution, and you nod in agreement.

"I think– there's something wrong with him–" He adds, and the three of you wait for Harry to explain.

"In the past, I've always been able to follow his thoughts– now everything just sort of feels disconnected." The dark haired man says, he adjusts the glasses on his face.

"Maybe it's the Horcruxes? Maybe he's growing weaker, maybe he's dying?" Ron suggests but Harry was quick to shake his head.

"No, it's more like he's wounded. If anything he feels more dangerous." Harry states plainly, and now you are shivering for an entirely different reason.

Hermione glances at you, as you exhange a look, you can't help but acknowledge that all too familiar sense of impotence as it looms over all of you.

The uncertainty and impending doom; it feels as though the more Horcruxes you uncover, the more uncertain the end seems.