#i must be pretty desperate if i miss my dead brother which death i was born years after uh

[myechoecho]

Moon in the Day, ep 6

I just want to give a little shout out to Joon Oh's bother, who at first seemed slightly shady, but genuinely loves Joon Oh and is doing everything to protect him. Do Ha certainly never had that with his father and it's a pretty big step for him to trust the brother and give him a bit of information on who is trying to kill Joon Oh. Unfortunately the lawyer is now also entangled with the guy who is trying to kill Do Ha and Yeong Hwa.

It must be really hard on Yeong Hwa to be dreaming Ri Ta and Do Ha's tragic story and then have it blur into her present relationship with Do Ha. No wonder she sees a doctor. Interesting though, that she now remembers she used to see him as a child. It really makes me wonder why she stopped.

Do Ha's adoptive father is just awful. I don't even get why hates Do Ha so much. Generally, I do think he's jealous of Do Ha and the riches that he enjoys only because of Do Ha.

Maybe it's the Perfect Marriage Revenge influence but I half wonder if Do Ha is actually his bio son, and his mother died in child birth. So his father hates him for "killing" his mother. His father pretended he was dead, but sent him away and then "adopted" him to torture and mold into a soldier to bring him wealth and power. Just throwing that out there since we have no idea what happened to his mother - bio or potentially adoptive.

His father set a very deliberate trap for Do Ha. He knows that Ri Ta is the General's daughter and if he knows then Do Ha must know it. Bringing in Ri Ta as a servant was an odd move for Do Ha. By framing Ri Ta, he gets to see what Do Ha will do for her. And Do Ha defends her but it will be to their doom.

Do Ha's father is right - Ri Ta does not act like a servant. The way she talks back and recognizes that she is doomed either way and the absolute silence she endures the beating points to her being noble.

The way Do Ha asks how she is by the door. And then hearing how defeated she is ("I am just a clumsy assassin") he props her up/encourages her. Which yeah, her goal is to kill him so it is all kinds of messed up. But Ri Ta also tries to protect him, because she can see what his father is trying to do to them both.

He frees her, killing the guard in the process. He has a goal now, to stay alive for her. So he gets her to repeat the words she said in the cave. They really are bound to one another.

Yeong Hwa finally gets the nerve to ask more directly just who Do Ha is. Do Ha, for his part, desperately wants to know why. It's telling that in this episode he specifically says "why you had to". On some level he must know it was not really her choice, or she felt she had none. He tells her her that she was his wife.

Back to the past we go to their wedding. His father is there so we're missing a massive chunk of story. He give her more lotus seeds, int the form of a necklace, in order to protect her from all evil. I wonder if it is the same one she had as a child before her father turned it into a bracelet. The deeper they get tied to each other, the stronger the bond and the eventual curse."You are forever my one and only wife. Even if death tears ups apart". Then the focus on the lotus necklace so it's clearly important.

EDIT: I LOVED the entire drunk scene.

[omarfor-orchestra]

The simobale coding is strong today

[midnight-dreamerness]

Savior

Chapter 1: Brother’s Best Friend

(This is NOT my gif. Credit to the creator <3)

series summary: when your protector returns, he finds you broken and abused and helps you climb out of the darkness

chapter summary: you never thought you would see him after the funeral, but here he is.

pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

warning: small mentions of smut(nothing major), mentions of abuse, mentions of death, mentions of blood

word count: 2.3k

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this first chapter...let me know what you think! Also some of this may be confusing but it will get cleared up as the story goes on. Also I barely looked over this for mistakes, so sorry in advance <3

~

You met him in college. He was the popular football player, wanna be NFL. You were the book work that didn’t need any distractions. He was sweet and caring but cocky. Somehow he convinced you to go on a date with him. Everything was going great, but then he hurt his knee during a football game. Then he changed.

At the beginning it was just a couple of harsh words here and there. He would apologize after.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he would say, pulling you close. You got used to it, to the words, the hateful glances he would send ever so often.

His future as a football player was no more. He ended up working in an office, but it wasn’t enough for him.

The first time he hit you, he had come back from the bar, drunk and angry. He had met up with his old teammates, got plastered, made a scene, and got kicked out of the bar. He apologized that morning, crying for forgiveness. And you forgave him. You stayed, even when the abuse continued and got worse.

The worst part is, you blame yourself.

I shouldn’t have tested him and I wouldn’t have to cover the bruise on my jaw with a pound of makeup.

And now, almost 3 years later, you're still making excuses for him. Every hit, every slap, every kick to the ribs, every busted lip or bruised jaw, it was always your fault. It didn’t matter that you did everything he asked. He always found something to punish you for whether it was leaving a dish in the sink, not having dinner ready for him when he got home, forgetting to pick up something for him at the store, or something simple like not making the bed. It was always something.

Kade wasn’t always beating you. He had good days too. You glance down at the ring on your finger, finding it out of place. It didn’t fit right anymore. It didn’t look right on your hand. Truth be told, you didn’t want it there anymore. But what were you going to do? He had mentioned time and time again that if you were to ever leave, he’d kill you.

The elevator dings, indicating someone had come up. It gains your attention, pulling your eyes from the files you were currently going over familiar. His familiar face pulls at your heart and your mind flashes with memories. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Your brother's old best friend is walking right up to your desk, a smile that somehow still makes you weak at the knees, stretched across his face. His eyes shimmer with glee, like he recognized you the instant your eyes met. The familiar ocean blue pulls you in and you're drowning in them all over again.

The gold star hanging from his neck has your attention, a grin appearing on your face. He’s always been a protector. You remember when Danny, your brother, had left, leaving you behind while he fought wars overseas. Jay was a year younger, so Danny had made him promise to look after you. He made him promise to protect you. And he did, until ultimately the year following, he left too.

He approached the desk, shaking his head while letting out a laugh.

“I couldn’t believe it. Miss Hawkins, secretary to the multimillionaire Reese Connor,” he teases, placing his elbows on the counter, intertwining his fingers together. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ease the pain from your side. He’s bigger since the last time you saw him, it must be four years now. You were barely 22 when he showed up to your front door, holding your brother's dog tags in his hand and tears in his perfect blue eyes.

“Me? Let’s talk about you, Mr. Detective. I heard you’ve been kicking it in the Intelligence Unit.” You laugh, leaning over to shove his arm. He chuckles but something catches his eye. There’s red marks around your neck. You didn’t notice where his eyes trailed, so busy looking over what you could see from your stop behind the counter.

His shoulders were broad, more so than last time it seems. His jaw, not as sharp as it once was and he was no longer clean shaven. His five o’clock shadow runs across his jaw and the lower part of his cheeks. You remember all the complaining he did when he was younger about how he could never grow it out probably and opted just to shave it so your brother would stop teasing him relentlessly.

There’s still freckles running over his face in the most perfect way, trailing down his neck and down under his shirt. There’s a scar leaking out from his olive green shirt that is partially covered by his leather jacket.

You shake your head, looking back into his eyes that hold a different emotion you couldn’t pinpoint, and sigh. “What can I do for you Detective Halstead?” You grinned teasingly. His smile reappeared in a matter of milliseconds.

“I need to speak to Reese involving a case I’m working on. Is there any way I could speak to him?”

You purse your lips, looking down at your watch before replying, “He’s currently in a meeting, it should be over in about ten minutes if you wanna sit and wait?” Jay nods. You smile, pointing towards the chair behind your desk.

He rounds your desk and takes a seat only a couple of feet from your chair, which you sit back down in. You try to ignore the burning in your cheeks. This feeling takes you back to when you were fifteen. A young and naive teenager who thought she was in love with her older brother's best friend, who was 4 years older than you.

“I can see your cherry red face and your facing away from me.” His comment only made it worse. You groan, closing the file and turning to him.

“You haven’t changed have you?” You ask, crossing your legs. It gains his attention immediately. His eyes trail down to your ankle, a large bruise covers the area.

“Well it seems you got more beautiful since the last time I saw you,” he stares, leaning back in his seat. A sting punctures your heart, sadness attempting to creep over you. You push it away, laughing.

“Yeah well it’s been a while since then.”

“You know, I can still remember those boy band posters hanging in your bedroom. And those pigtails you wore everyday in middle school.”

Groaning, you reply, “I hope you don’t still see me as that clingy preteen.”

“I think you know I don’t see you that way anymore.” You knew exactly what he was hinting at, and if it could get any worse, the burning in your cheeks intensified, the ache between your legs reminding you of how good he made you feel and how no other man, even Kade, could make you feel the way he did.

You suck your lips into your mouth, trying to hide your smile.

“What are you here for?” You find yourself asking, picking at your nails, attempting to change the subject before you say something you shouldn’t.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that.”

Jay lets out a chuckle, making you glance back up to him. He’s shaking his head with a grin. You pout, turning back to your desk.

There was a slight pause as you tried to focus on your work, but you could feel his eyes on you, like he was trying to figure you out after all these years.

“Those are some nasty cuts on your hands, butterfly. What happened?” The nickname brought back so many memories of you and your brother. Tears welled in your eyes but you forced yourself to focus on the question, nervousness sitting in your stomach.

“I broke a plate washing dishes.” The lie fell smooth from your lips, dripping with innocence. A sound leaves his lips, like he didn’t believe you.

“Your eye?”

“Walked into a wall.”

“What about that bruise on your leg?” Looking down, the bruise now visible on the back of your leg you hadn’t noticed this morning while getting ready. You whipped around in your chair to look at the detective coldly.

“I fell.”

“I know you're clumsy, sweetheart, but not that clumsy.” Jag leans over, his forearms leaning against his thighs. “What about the red marks around your neck? Or the bruise on your shoulder that I can see through your white blouse.”

You curse yourself for being so careless. If Kade found out someone was questioning you, a detective and a friend no less, he’d kill you.

“Are you interrogating me, detective?” You ask, looking at him sternly. You intertwine your fingers and sit them in your lap. You watch him cross his arms over his chest, his muscular biceps, bulging through the sleeves of his jacket, gaining your attention. Gulping, you adjust your crossed legs desperate for the little pressure it gives. You hated that he could make you this desperate. Despite being angry, you could tell he knew the effect he had on you. He was going to use it to wiggle the information out of you.

“Does he do it when he’s drunk, sober, or both?”

You narrow your eyes, recalling the times you could smell it on his breath and the times you couldn’t. It seemed like it was worse when he was sober, when he was drunk he was sloppy. You glanced down to your lap, trying to keep the tears at bay. You didn’t need his sympathy. You didn’t need his help. You were a grown woman and you didn’t need your dead brother's best friend looking out for you anymore. You no longer needed his protection.

Luckily you're saved by a man approaching your desk from the direction of Mr. Reese’s office.

“Thank you, Miss Hawkins.” The man slaps the desk before continuing towards the elevator. You rise from your chair, motioning Jay to follow you down the hall towards your boss's office.

“That’s a pretty bad limp. You should get it checked out.”

You stop in the middle of the hall and turn to him, annoyed at this point.

“Detective-“

“What happened to JJ?”

Your eyebrows pull together as you run your hand over your face, a sigh escaping your lips. “Jay, I know you promised my brother you’d look out for me, but I’m fine.” You try to reason, even grabbing his arm and giving him a smile.

“I’m not doing this because of Danny, sweetheart. Believe it or not, I care about you,” he says, stepping closer to you. You gulp, pressing your hands to his chest. He had you against the wall now, his arms on either side of your head, trapping you.

“Jay, please. I’m engaged.”

Jay pulls back abruptly, giving you a shocked look but there was anger in his eyes.

“You're marrying that bastard?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. You move to touch him, but he moves from your grasp.

“Take me to Reese.”

You look down, nodding before continuing on towards your boss's office. You knock on the door, waiting on the okay before walking inside. Your boss sits at his desk and was previously focused on his computer but his attention is turned to you.

“A Detective Halstead is here to see you.”

He flashes you a smile before motioning him inside. You let Jay pass, taking in a sharp breath as his body brushes with yours.

Once you're outside and the door is shut behind you, you lean against the wall, trying to calm yourself down. Ever since he came back from his first tour, to spend some time with his family, your feelings for him became much more than some school girl crush. You saw him in a new light. He was more than your brother's best friend, more than that guy who looked after you ever so often. He was a man and you, you were a woman. You had hoped for so long that he would see you differently. He did, but the time for you and him had passed.

Your little moment was ruined by the sound of a voice, “Who the hell was that?” Your head snaps towards the end of the hall. Kade’s friend Nathan stands there, a glare set in his eyes. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as your breathing becomes unsteady. You're stuttering out incoherent words but he’s already pulled out his phone and dials a number while walking in the opposite direction of where you're standing.

Although filled with fear and worry, you continued working, distracting yourself and praying that he’ll let it go, or at least listen to you when you tell him you didn’t say a word to Jay. He knows Jay, and when he finds out that it was him who you were talking to, it’s going to be ten times worse.

Your attention is once again drawn to him as he walks up to your desk from the direction of the hall. He slides a card onto the table towards you.

“I wasn’t there for you like I promised you that day. I failed you, and I failed him. I know the signs. When you're ready to get out, call me. I won’t let you down, not this time.” You watch him walk away, heart sinking into your stomach. You want him to come back, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to call out to him, or to trust him again.

Before he enters the elevator, he gives you another look and adds, “You’re strong. Remember that.”

He gets into the elevator and he’s gone. You picked up the card, looking it over. He reminds you that not every man is as awful as Kade. But he has his claws dug into you so deep, you can’t even trust Jay, the man who protected you when your brother was away. You don’t know what to do without Kade. You love him.

He’s going to change, you tell yourself. You only hope you’re right.

_

A/N: Okay can i just say how sorry i am for how long it took me to post this story :( Not gonna make any promises but chapter two should be out Friday or Saturday. Thanks for the support. If you want to be added to my taglist let me know!

[spidernerdsblog]

Match made in Hell : Chapter Thirteen

A/N : And this is it the last and final chapter. Kinda sad but mostly happy to finally finish this series. Hope you like this chapter. Let me know what you think.

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary : you always wanted a simple life but to be born as the daughter of a dangerous mobster turned out to be a curse for you. Everything changes when your father gets your lover killed and forcefully marries you off to another mobster as a part of a deal. You hate your father and your husband the only thing you seek is now revenge. Will you ever be able to fall in love again or this burning hatred inside you will consume you?

Warnings : mature content, kidnapping, blood, violence, murder, death, language

SERIES MASTERLIST

“What? How?” you looked at him with a worrisome face.

“We don’t know yet but we are gonna catch him don’t worry” his hands come up to your shoulders in assurance.

“Then we must go now he might be planning something dangerous to take revenge on us” saying so you were about to rush back to your room to get dressed but Tom caught hold of your hand.

“Y/N stop, you can’t go” 

“Why? You only said we need to catch him” you look at him questioningly.

“By we I meant me and the boys. You are not going anywhere, not in this condition” he speaks softly placing a hand gently over your stomach “you remember what Dr. Martin said, right? No stress and as much rest as possible”

“But-but you don’t understand Tom I can help and I was pregnant the last time we caught him” you argue as Tom reaches his hand out to cup your face with an understanding smile.

“I know love but we weren’t aware of it at that time and I'm thankful that he didn’t do anything bad but not anymore" he caressed your cheek with his thumb "I’m not letting either of you come in harm's way” you were about to say something but he cut you off “please Y/N for this time just let me handle this. I know you’re strong and the most fearless woman I have ever met in my life but for this time for their sake at least stay back” 

You finally gave up hanging your head low with a sigh. He was right with your current situation; it wasn't a wise idea. The risk would be too much and you can’t afford it, not when it’s about the safety of the little ones growing inside you.

“Okay but promise me you’ll be careful and in no circumstance you will risk your life” you place your hand over his on your stomach “we will be waiting for you”

“I promise I’ll be safe” he presses a soft kiss on your forehead “you just take care of yourself. I have told the guards everything and Leslie will also be there” he gives a one last peck on your lips before parting “I’ll be back in no time I promise” he reassures smiling as you nod mirroring his smile.

****

Tom along with with his brothers and Harrison were at their office in Westminster discussing their next move to get hold of Ethan before he makes a move against them.

“Any news?” Tom asks Harrison. 

“Nothing,” he answers with disappointment.

“We searched downtown but found no trace of him,” Harry informs, exchanging glances with Sam.

“How is this even possible? A man escaped but is nowhere to be found?!” Tom groans in  frustration when they are interrupted by William whom Vanessa brought along with her in case he might be able to help track down Ethan with his years of experience with your father's mob.

“Only if the man has never left the place” he elucidates.

“What?” Tom’s brows knit in a frown.

“Has anyone seen him getting out of the house?” William throws the question to his men as they stood there silently with their gazes lowered down at the floor. 

“Answer the question you morons!” Tom barks at them.

“No sir” one of them squeaks out in response as the frown on Tom’s face grows deeper.

“Well then you have your answer Ethan is still in your house hiding maybe seeking for the right opportunity” William remarks.

“Right opportunity for what?” Vanessa questions.

“Y/N..” Tom’s voice comes out shaky as panic washes over his face at the realization “Y/N is all alone in the house. We need to go now!” 

****

You were in your room trying to keep yourself occupied by reading some books on parenting and childbirth to calm your nerves which honestly wasn’t helping much cause you knew how dangerous it is with Ethan escaping and the vipers seeking revenge. Since no one would be informing you about anything you thought it’s best, you take a nap as stressing about it will be useless and in turn be bad for the two little beans inside you. 

You were about to lie down when you heard shuffling noises outside of your room. Your hand instantly reached out to your bedside table, opening the drawer you took out your gun and got off the bed. You carefully tip-toed out of your room, eyes scanning the corridors when you felt someone’s presence behind you. You cocked your gun ready to turn and shoot. 

“I wouldn’t dare to do that” you heard, feeling the muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of your head. 

“Ethan?” you frowned deeply.

“Miss me baby?” his voice dark and full of malice. You went to shove him in the stomach with your elbow but he was quick to catch hold of your hand and twist it back as the gun fell from your grasp on the floor.

“You’re getting clumsy sweetheart” he chuckles tauntingly.

“What do you want?!” you hissed struggling to set free.

“You’ll get to know soon but for now start walking”

“What makes you think I’ll listen to whatever you say?” you grit under your teeth. 

“Well honey news is in the air that you're pretty knocked up right now" he snickers and your throat went dry, he knows "so if you don't do what I say I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to pull the trigger” 

Usually you were tough and it takes a lot to shake you but now it is different. You couldn’t think of fighting back as fear grasped on to your mind and body. You weren’t alone, you had two lives growing inside you and in no way you were going to put their lives in danger so you remained quiet and decided to do exactly what you were told. You slowly walked down the stairs with Ethan behind you holding you by your arm with one hand the other had his gun pointed at the back of your head when Leslie walked out of the kitchen.

“Ma’am!” she gasped in horror and immediately pressed the alarm on the nearby wall to alert the guards outside as she rushed towards you in an attempt to save you.

“Get back or she dies” Ethan threatens, pressing the gun further to your head.

“It’s ok Les just stay where you are” you say calmly. Two of Tom’s men posted at the gate barged in pointing their guns.

“Put down your gun now or you’ll regret it” they threaten, cocking their guns which made Ethan chuckle darkly.

“You really thought I would be so stupid to do this all alone” he snickers when three men dressed in all black rounded them from behind. They pulled out their guns and within seconds several gunshots were fired piercing through their bodies as both of the guards dropped dead.

“Leslie run!” you shout at her. 

“But…” she hesitates.

“Just go or they will kill you!” you tell her as she unwillingly ran to the back of the mansion to get out of the place.

“Yes, run to your boss and tell him that I got his most prized possession and soon I’ll have this whole city within my palms too” he grins wickedly. He then drags you out of the front door to the driveway where two SUV’s were parked.

“C'mon get inside the car” he nudged you as you reluctantly got in the passenger seat while he sat on the driver's seat and starts the car.

“Ethan you don’t wanna do this” you tried to talk some sense into him.

“Oh hell I wanna do it. Today I take back what is rightfully mine. Now shut the fuck up!” he yelled at you while driving and you flinched feeling utterly helpless.

“Tom is on his way he is gonna kill you and if my dad comes to know” you glared at him.

“I don’t care what that bastard wants, he has been using me to take hold of the drug cartel but I was the one who was using him to set up my own gang to take my sweet revenge. Your daddy thinks he owns the vipers, no honey, it's me who gives them the orders” he laughs when his eyes go to the phone in your hands “give me your phone” he orders.

“Why?” you tried to hide it away from him

“Just give it to me dammit!” he snatched it out of your hand and threw it out of the window on the side of the road “now no one will know where you are” he chuckles darkly speeding away through the traffic.

****

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are you?!” Tom stormed inside the house to be met with the two dead bodies of his men in a pool of blood.

“Oh God!” V gasped in horror and the boys were left dumbfounded at the scene in front of them..

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Tom called out again desperately.

“Sir!” a very terrified Leslie came running from the back of the house.

“Leslie, where is Y/N? Answer me!” he demanded.

“They took her sir” she broke down into tears as Tom felt the ground slipping from under his feet. 

“Uggh this is all my fault!” he knocks off the glass sculpture kept on the nearby table out of rage.

“Tom, calm down, get yourself together!” Harrison stops him from breaking any other things further.

“How can I stay calm Harrison?! That bastard took her and I wasn’t even there to save her. Now I don’t know where she is or even if she is alive or not” he laments.

“You need to think clearly, Tom. He won’t do anything to her I’m sure not until he gets what he wants” William remarks and just then Tom’s phone rang with an unknown caller id

“Take it I’m sure it’s him” William advised he pressed the call button as Ethan’s face became visible on the scream. 

“Hey Tom, what’s up man?” he says with a smug grin.

“You scum, where is Y/N?! If you lay a finger on her you’re gonna die a very brutal death!” Tom barked.

“Oh don’t worry, she's alright. For now. Say hi to your husband honey” he mocks flipping the camera towards you. Tom’s heart clenched seeing you tied up to a chair. You looked completely exhausted as you somehow lifted your face up to face the camera.

“Y/N…” he croaks a lump growing inside his throat as he fights back his tears after seeing you being treated like this when you should in the comfort of your home. 

“Tom-Tom, don’t agree to what he says it’s a tra-” you tried to warn him but were quickly cut off.

“Okay that’s enough sweetheart”

“Give me my Y/N back!” Tom growled in rage.

“Woah not so fast not until you give me what I want” he remarks with a smug grin.

“What the hell do you want?!”

“Nothing much, just hand over your mob and accept my allegiance only then you'll get your wife back. I’m giving you 12 hours to think Tom after that I’ll empty this gun into her head” he threatens and the call disconnects.

“Hey wait!” Tom yells at the dark screen.

“Let’s go! We don’t have much time” Tom was about to rush out when Harry stopped him

“Wait Tom, are you seriously going to hand over everything?”

“I'm ready to give up everything for Y/N. I don't give a fuck about the mob because that’s the reason behind Y/N, my wife, the mother of children is being held captive in the first place!” he snaps.

“Don’t do anything in a rush you don’t want to strengthen your enemy’s power do you?” William remarks..

“Yes Tom, I agree with William too. You do remember what the Coopers did back then before your dad had to kill them himself?” Harrison reminded him.

“Yes I do but what option do we have?” Tom sighed unable to find a way out

“You have an option” V speaks up

“What?” 

“Ask papa for help” she suggests

“Are you out of your mind?! You’re telling me to ask another enemy of ours for help for whom Y/N was almost going to die!” Tom says disapproving her idea.

“Just listen to me for once all this rivalry between you and our dad is just because of the business. If he comes to know that Y/N is in danger he would certainly help cause he loves his family more than anything” she explains.

“Vanessa is right Tom only Victor can help you. The vipers were his gang after all he will know everything and you also need more men to overpower Ethan” William agrees.

“What do you guys say?” Tom looks at his brothers and Harrison.

“You should call him” they all suggest unanimously. After a little pondering Tom took a deep breath and dialed his number.

“You really have the balls to call us after what you did Holland” Julian quipped.

“Julian you gotta listen to me mate this is important. Ethan escaped” 

“Well it's not our problem that he escaped”

“He has your sister Julian” Tom informs.

“And why would I help you to save her who is the reason we are about to lose the whole drug cartel”

“It wasn’t your sister Julian it was Ethan all along he had been double crossing you and using the vipers to grab hold of the drug cartel behind you back”

“So what? We just don’t care now end the call”

“Jules, wait your sister is pregnant” Tom reveals as Julian perks up at the news.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” Julian asks with concern in his voice.

“She is expecting. I know you have had issues but I also know you care for her and so does Mr. Martinez. I know he is listening to this too. It's your daughter sir and if you really want her to stop hating you then help us take down Ethan” Tom’s voice breaks as he pleads with them.

“Dad?” Julian turned to Victor. 

“I'm gonna kill that bastard myself!” Victor mutters standing up from his chair enraged “everyone to get ready and tell them to meet at the Docklands”

****

After searching for almost three hours your father was able to locate you. You were being held in an old factory near Kennington. They drove to that place as fast as they could and stopped a mile ahead to not alert his goons. Carefully they walked over to the place and took down the guards posted outside surrounding the place. Tom along with Harrison and your father and brother entered the building killing anyone who came in their way. The deserted factory echoed with the loud noise of gunshots and you knew that Tom was here to rescue you.

“You hear that? Tom is here, you’re going to die Ethan” you quipped a knowing smile etched on your face.

“Not so easily” he goes to untie the ropes and pulls you up on your feet pressing his gun against the side of your head.

“Y/N!” Tom barged in.

“Come closer and she dies,” Ethan threatens.

“You might want to reconsider mate” Tom says with a sly smirk

“Why is that?”

“Your sister Meredith, is her name right? And she lives in an apartment near Brixton” he muses “guess what? my brothers happen to be there too” fear washed over Ethan’s face as he realized how the tables have turned and all thanks to your father who knew about his sister and told Tom about her.

“No, keep my sister out of this” he says weakly.

“You left me no choice mate” Tom tsks “it’s over Ethan so let Y/N go and no one gets hurt” he warns him as Ethan removes the gun from your head and lets go of you. You take one quick glance at him and then look at Tom standing in front of you. You immediately strided your way towards him with tears in your eyes but Ethan had something else in his mind. He lifted his gun again and pulled the trigger aiming at your back.

“Y/N!!” Tom shrieked but before the bullet could hit you Victor was on time to pull you in his tight embrace guarding you as the bullet hit him on his right  shoulder. He flinched in pain as you grasped on to his shirt trembling.

“Daddy?” you said weakly glancing up to him with tear filled eyes. 

“It’s ok mija I’m here now. Don’t worry everything is going to be alright” he caresses the back of your head gently as you feel your head spin. The stress was too much for you to handle and you fainted in his arms.

“Go get that motherfucker!” Tom shouted seeing Ethan trying to flee. His men were quick to grab him as Harrison snatched the gun out of his hand and punched him right at his face.

“Jules, take her to the hospital now!” your father instructed. Jules took you from his arms and carried you to the car and immediately left for the hospital.

Tom stalked his way towards Ethan as if he was a prey. He cocked his gun, his gaze stone cold eyes burning with rage. He kicks Ethan on his legs as his knees buckled and he kneeled down on the floor in front of him.

“Tom please let me go I swear I’ll go as far away as possible and never return back” Ethan begs for his mercy.

“You should have thought about it before you decided to shoot Y/N” Tom growled, pressing the gun in between his eyes. But for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. It didn’t feel right to him.

“Tom, what are you waiting for?” Harrison nudged him.

“I-I can’t, Y/N wouldn’t want this” Tom looked at him unsure of what to do “it’s better we hand him over to the police” he suggests.

“If you can’t I will” Victor interrupts and aggressively points his gun at Ethan.

“No Victor, wait!” Tom tried to stop him but it was too late he had already pulled the trigger and Ethan’s lifeless body collapsed on the ground.

“It’s ok Tom nobody gets away after messing with my family” he shrugs when the blaring of the sirens could be heard from a distance.

“Get out of here right now!” Victor says to Tom.

“But..” Tom hesitates.

“Leave or you’ll get caught too” he insists.

“What about you?”

“I think it’s time for me to pay for my crimes” he sighs looking at the gun in his hand with a contemplating smile etched on his face. The screeching of car tires could be heard as the bellowing of the sirens grew louder which was soon followed by the clamoring footsteps of people in tactical boots. 

“Now go to my daughter she needs you” Victor rushes him “and remember to keep her happy and safe or else I’ll hunt you down too” he warns him.

“Will keep that in mind” Tom smirks and walks out of the place.

“Raise your hands where I can see them!” Grace orders and without a single Victor raises his hands in surrender.

“Victor Martinez you are under arrest for embezzlement and several other crimes including hoarding and smuggling of illegal drugs and murders” Grace states pointing her gun at him along with a team of officers behind her. A male officer was quick to handcuff him. Tom watched it whole from a distance as he was led inside the police van before leaving for the hospital.

You woke up to the rhythmic beeping of the EKG. Your eyes slowly adjust to the lighting of the hospital room.

“Tom..Tom” you mumbled half awake.

“Hey, hey I’m right here” Tom quickly gets up from the couch and holds your hands as you sit up.

“Tom what happened?” you ask warily.

“You fainted honey, your blood pressure went low due to all the stress” he informs.

“What about our babies?” your hand goes to your stomach as you look at him with panic stricken eyes “are they ok? Tom, are they safe?” you rambled out of fear.

“Yes darling, they are safe and healthy the doctor’s confirmed” he assures you gently brushing your hair with his hands.

“Oh thank god” you heaved a sigh of relief.

“I think we should thank your dad too cause if he wasn’t there in time you would have got shot” he remarks.

“I know,” you say, staring at your lap.

“Y/N the interpol and police took your father”

“Well that was going to happen some or the other day anyways” you half shrugged.

“But he saved you, saved us”

“I know and that’s the irony for the first time my dad genuinely showed that cared about me and now I will never see him again” you say with regret in your voice.

4 months later….

You were seated in the huge courtroom of the New York State Supreme Court with Tom, Vanessa and your mother by your side as you awaited the jury’s verdict on the charges you, your father and brother have been indicted with. After your father’s arrest the underworld imploded and most of the leaders went into hiding to save their businesses and escape the law. It was a huge issue in the international media too, the trial went on for three months. You had to travel back and forth to appear before the court for the murders you were charged with. 

Though they could never find any proof against you, your dad and your husband made sure of that. Tom had told you that he had requested the families not to testify against you and they had agreed. But you know his way of requesting people very well : it's pointing a gun at their head. If they don’t agree then they are permanently relieved of their life. 

When you said that to him he laughed it off by saying “that’s preposterous! I would never do that” and you gave him ‘not buying it’ look “okay the old me would but I’m a changed man now and as I promised no violence” he clarified. But you knew better and you didn’t mind this time really cause you didn’t want to abandon this beautiful life you finally got and go to jail. 

Moreover in less than two months there will be two new additions to your little family and you don’t want to miss any of it. You knew that you could never get rid of the blood in your hands and so did Tom but this time you are gonna start afresh for those pure little souls that are coming to light up your entire world and remove the darkness that had been clouding your lives.

“The jury have reached a verdict” the judge’s voice echoed through the silent courtroom and Tom places his hand over yours comfortingly giving you a reassuring smile telling you that everything will be ok “and they unanimously find Victor Martinez guilty of the following charges related to extortion, money laundering, murders and illegal smuggling of drugs. He is being sentenced to lifetime imprisonment” the judge declared.

“Also due to lack of evidence the jury declares Julian Martinez and Y/N Holland innocent and free of all charges” he adds and Tom squeezes your hand gently with a soft smile and a relief in his eyes as you look at him mirroring his smile. 

“The court is adjourned for the day” the judge announced and everybody stood up from their seats to walk out of the room one by one. You watched your dad getting handcuffed and being taken away by the officials as your brother followed them to finish the rest of the formalities that needed to be done before they took your father to the prison. For once you wanted to hug him tight and let him know that you loved him even after whatever went down between you. You wanted to let him know that you have forgiven him, you felt bad for your mother too after all he is her husband.

“Don’t worry honey I’ll be fine” she touches your shoulder breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“I’m really sorry mom you don’t deserve this” you sniffled

“It’s ok, Y/N I knew this day was coming soon and how much ever you feel bad a crime is a crime”

“Mom, you can come live with us. I can talk to Tom, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind” you offered.

“No sweetie that’s not happening I’m better off here and Jules will be there I will be perfectly ok. You just take care of yourselves”  

“Hello Mrs Martinez” Tom interrupts.

“Hello Tom”

“Honey it’s quite some time you ate anything let’s get you something shall we?” he suggested to you.

“Yeah I’m feeling a little hungry to be honest” you  remarked.

“I know love, let’s go then there’s a nice café right around the corner of the street” he says as Julian joins you three too.

“All formalities are complete, it’s time for us to leave as well” he informs as you walk to him and held his hands.

“Jules please take care of my mother” you ask him with hopeful eyes.

“I will don’t worry” he pulls you in a hug and kisses your forehead “you guys take care too, alright” you nod and go to hug your mom before leaving the place with Tom.

Tom and you slowly walked out of the court and made your way to the café. Upon entering the shop you saw Vanessa already waiting for you as you went and sat down at the table while Tom went to give your orders. You were a little bit out of breath cause being seven months pregnant with twins is no big joke. You get easily tired now. Your stomach has grown round and big in the past few months which makes it difficult for you to bend down. But Tom was always there for you patiently helping you out. He even signed up for birthing and parenting classes so that you are ready for everything.

“Well finally it’s over isn’t it? You got what you wanted” V chimes.

“Yeah kind of” you sigh “is it wrong though that I feel bad for him?”

“Not at all after all he is our father we have the right to feel bad but past is past we gotta move on” you remarks “so how are the little munchkins?”

“Oh they are doing quite well and also not letting their mother sleep with their constant kicking seems like they can’t wait to come out already and so do I. I really want my precious sleep back” you joked.

“Oh sissy for the next two years forget about sleep cause you will be getting none” V snickers.

“Can’t complain though I voluntarily signed up for it” you shake your head smiling as you pull out a file from inside your bag “here” you say handing over the file to her.

“What is this?” V looks at you cluelessly.

“A deal is a deal, open it” you tell her as she opens the file and goes through the papers. Her eyes widened with shock as she finished reading the last page.

“What?! Are you serious?” 

“I told you I’ll give your rightful share in the family so this is it” you stated.

“But you are giving me the rum and diamond business. That’s yours” she emphasized.

“I know but I don’t have the time or interest to run it and I can’t handle the business in New York while staying in London. Moreover, Tom has decided to start a chain of luxury resorts and since I have a management degree I’ll be helping him to expand it” you explain “so I’m entrusting you with our family businesses. Welcome to the family V” you look at her with a proud smile.

“I’ll not disappoint you” she promises.

“I know you won’t”

..................................................................................

If you want to send blurb requests based on the series I'm more than eager to write so send me your ideas. Also suggest me some cute baby names both girl and boy. I was thinking of going with Beatrice or April and Cole or Ben but would like to hear your opinions as well ❤️

[blackspoon99]

You Told Me So Pt. 8

Sherlock X Female! Reader

TW: Violence, injury, kidnapping, mentions of death

Sherlock was pacing frantically around the flat. He needed to think. He knew from the beginning the man from the cargo ship couldn’t have taken you. No. It had to have been someone else. John had already called Lestrade. He had confirmed that you left Scotland Yard on foot just after Sherlock.

The only thing he could think to do was call Mycroft. He dialed the number and waited for him to pick up.

“What is it Sherlock, I was in a meeting.”

“Mycroft, I need your help”

“Well, this is a first. The great Sherlock Holmes calling me for help. It must be serious”

“Enough Mycroft. Y/n is missing. I know you keep track of all of our whereabouts. Help me, please”

“Understood.” Mycroft’s tone changed when he recognized the desperation in his brother’s voice. “One moment.” There were a few seconds of silence then Mycroft was back.

“Sherlock, I’m sorry. Somehow, we’ve lost all surveillance on y/n for the last few hours. I have no idea where she is. If you want, I could try—”

Sherlock hung up the phone and flung it at the wall in frustration. He had nothing to work with. No bread crumb trail to follow. It was like you had vanished off the face of the earth.

Suddenly Sherlock and John heard a chime from across the room. With that single sound, Sherlock had been able to tell exactly who had taken you. With that realization, he immediately felt sick to his stomach. It had come from the replica of Jennifer Wilson’s pink phone, which always sat on the mantelpiece. Sherlock lunged for it and quickly unlocked it. A text alert appeared followed by 5 chimes. 

“Five pips,” John said, under his breath. The text contained a video file.

John walked over to Sherlock. With a shaky hand, Sherlock pressed play. More than a Woman by the Bee Gees blasted through the speakers of the cell phone. None other than Jim Moriarty danced into the frame.

“Hello, Sherlock. Do you like this song? I think it’s pretty appropriate given the circumstances.”

Jim grabbed the camera and turned it towards you while singing along mockingly to the chorus.

More than a woman, more than a woman to me

“Say hello y/n” there was a moment of silence. “Oh, come on, don’t be rude, say hello to Sherlock.” You didn’t move or speak. You must have been unconscious. Your head was bowed to the ground, arms suspended above your head with your feet just barely grazing the concrete. Sherlock’s jaw locked and his eyes narrowed as he continued to watch the video. “I told you to stop messing with my things Sherlock. I warned you. Now one of your pets will have to pay for the consequences of your actions”

Moriarty faced the camera once again. “You know, you trained her so well. This one reaalllly loves you I can tell. I’ll bet she’d die for you and you know what?” He said, pretending to take a moment to think “She just might. I told you I would burn the heart out of you. And poor little y/n, she thinks you don’t care about her. I heard her say it.” Jim said sporting an overdramatic pout. “But we both know that’s not true”

“You’re so cruel Sherlock,” Moriarty taunted. “You adopt all of these pets off the street and turn them into targets. You let them care for you and follow you around. And then you just leave your pets vulnerable, abandon them, leave them behind where anyone could show up and hurt them. Is that how you repay her loyalty?” He turned the camera back to you.

“Although, I will say I see the appeal. I think this one’s my favorite.” He said grabbing your chin and pointing the camera in your face. Sherlock inhaled sharply when he saw your bashed-in face.

“Dear God,” said John, his voice breaking on the last word.

Moriarty continued. “I could just keep her for myself. Although you and I both know toys are soooooo much more fun to play with when you know they don’t belong to you. Don’t be too long Sherlock, we’re waiting for you.” The video cut out.

John balled his fists and finally exploded with anger. “JESUS CHRIST SHERLOCK” he snapped. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t let her walk herself home in the dead of night! I told you this was putting her in danger, but you didn’t listen. You’d better find her, Sherlock or so help me-”

“Would you SHUT UP JOHN! I can’t focus with you talking. He left a clue. There’s a text.”  

The text was a picture of Primavera by Botticelli. Sherlock immediately recognized it as your favorite painting.

“Shut up”

“I didn’t say anything”

The room felt like it was spinning. “I said SHUT UP. I need to think. I need to do it right now!” Sherlock shouted. He put his hands on his temples and tried to enter his mind palace.

When he opened his eyes, he was in the morgue at St. Barts. There was a body on the table, its identity was hidden with a sheet. Sherlock hesitantly approached the bench and lifted the sheet. Sherlock opened it to see you, beaten and broken, eyes glassed over and lifeless. He shouted out in horror and fell backward. When he sat back up, he saw images of you all around him.

“No. No!”

His mind was creating visualizations of all of the ways he could find you dead. He could feel his heart pounding. He felt dizzy and light-headed, like all the air had been sucked out of the room. You were likely going to die, and it was his fault. Sherlock closed his eyes and desperately tried to shake the images and refocus. He needed to concentrate.

He tried to calm down. Eventually, his breaths began to slow, and he opened his eyes. There you were, standing before him again, completely unharmed with a soft smile on your face.

“Come on Sherlock, this way.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. 

Both of you were now in the London National Gallery. Sherlock remembered how you’d dragged him and John to the museum last year to see your favorite painting on display through a special event. You were now standing in front of the painting, still holding his hand. You looked up at him and gave him a smile while gently squeezing his hand. Sherlock studied the image in front of him as he tried to remember something, anything, about the painting that could help him. Finally, he recognized something.

“Zephyrus!” He shouted opening his eyes. He was once again in Baker Street. “Zephyrus, the biting wind of March, kidnapped the nymph, Chloris. He’s in the painting. I think I know where to find her.”

“Where?” John asked, grabbing their coats and sliding his handgun into the left pocket of his jacket.

“James’s Park tube station! Zephyrus is also called the West Wind. Moriarty would have focused on that aspect of the story. There’s a carving called the West Wind above the station.”

[besanii]

For the anon thing, I started following Shattered Mirrors before I even had a Tumblr. I just kept the masterpost open and refreshed on a daily basis. I still keep it open in one of my tabs and check it periodically to make sure I didn't miss anything accidentally. I love pretty much all of your writing, but Shattered Mirrors has a special place in my heart.

Hi nonny! Thank you for your kind words :)))  Have some more SM!!

Shattered Mirrors 70

[directly precedes #26]

In the end, it is Nie Mingjue who lands the killing blow, taking off Wen Ruohan’s head with a swing of his mighty sabre. Lan Wangji watches it happen from only metres away, fending off the Qishan soldiers charging their way up the grand staircase towards the Nightless City stronghold and their king. He doesn’t register it at first, not until he looks down to see the head of Qishan’s monarch at his feet, dark eyes staring lifelessly up at him, mouth still twisted in a snarl.

It is strange, he thinks numbly as weapons clatter to the ground around him, that the once-fearsome ruler of Qishan who had been the cause of decades of grief for Gusu and its allies is now reduced to little more than a bloodied corpse separated from its head.

“You alright, Er-dianxia?” Nie Mingjue asks gruffly, shaking off the worst of the blood from his blade with a flick of his wrist before wiping it on the corpse of a Qishan soldier. “Not much to look at, is he? Still, I’d say it’s an improvement.”

“Wangji congratulates Qinghe-wang on his victory,” Lan Wangji says, bowing to Nie Mingjue as he approaches. “Wangji has heard many stories of Qinghe-wang’s prowess in battle. It is an honour to be able to witness it in person.”

Nie Mingjue waves him off with a snort. “Gusu-er-dianxia is too generous with his words. It is I who must thank Gusu for the chance to take this dog’s head from his body.”

With Wen Ruohan and both his sons dead, the Sunshot War is officially declared over, and all fighting ceases on the front lines as soon as the news spreads. The majority of the surviving troops gradually begin the journey home, but some remain behind, tasked with overseeing the dismantling of war camps, processing prisoners of war, as well as rebuilding the villages and towns affected by the fighting.

Lan Wangji is immediately recalled to Gusu on Lan Xichen’s orders. Despite his desire to help, he knows he cannot defy Imperial orders again, so he has Lan Guoyan stay behind in his place, packs his bags and sets off for the capital. Everywhere they pass on their way back to Caiyi bears the marks of war—villages burnt, orphans and widows on the streets, injured soldiers in makeshift hospitals, once-fruitful and lush fields scorched and blackened beyond recognition. It will take many years of careful management to set things right again; in the meantime, the best they can do is to clean up wherever they can and provide the support and supplies their people desperately need.

He rides for the palace as soon as they enter the city.

Ordinarily, customs dictate that returning officials and soldiers must bathe and make themselves presentable before appearing before the Emperor as a sign of respect, but Lan Wangji knows it will make no difference now whether he carries the dust and grime of the road on him or not. He dismounts hastily at the gates to the Imperial Palace, where Eunuch Yang is already waiting.

“This servant greets Er-dianxia,” he says with a low bow. Lan Wangji nods.

“Yang-zongguan.” He hands off the reins of his horse to one of the soldiers who had followed him here. “I am here to see my brother.”

“Yes, Er-dianxia,” Eunuch Yang says, holding out an arm in the direction of the main hall. “Taizi-dianxia has tasked this servant with bringing Er-dianxia to the Great Hall immediately upon his arrival.”

The Great Hall.

Lan Wangji takes a deep, calming breath.

“Then I must trouble Yang-zongguan,” he says with a curt nod.

It is almost midday by now, which means the court’s morning session should have ended a while ago—but when they arrive at the Great Hall and Lan Wangji’s presence is announced, the entire court turns their heads to look at him. Lan Xichen stands below the throne, one arm tucked behind his back and a calm, neutral expression on his face as Lan Wangji strides down the aisle dividing the civil officials from the military. Not a sound escapes their lips, but he feels their eyes on him, their censure and disapproval burning into the dirt-stained cape trailing behind him.

He sinks to his knees before the dais, and touches his forehead and hands to the floor.

“Greetings Taizi-dianxia,” he says, voice loud and clear in the hall despite the words being directed to the floor. “I ask forgiveness for not having time to make myself presentable to Taizi-dianxia before coming here today.”

Lan Xichen inclines his head in acknowledgment, but his expression does not soften.

“Huangdi is welcome back to court,” he says. “You are to be commended for your part in the war, and in the execution of the tyrant Wen Ruohan. For this, Huangshang has bestowed upon you the title Hanguang-wang. You are granted Hanguang Manor as your permanent residence, effective immediately.”

Lan Wangji exhales. The message is clear—as a prince who has come of age, Lan Wangji is no longer permitted to live within the Imperial Palace; instead, he is granted a title and a residence in the city, and is only permitted to visit the palace on official business, or when summoned. His brother, as the Crown Prince, had moved out of the Inner Palace and into the Eastern Palace when he too had come of age. Lan Wangji keeps his head lowered to the ground.

“Er-chen thanks Huangshang for his generosity,” he says. After a pause, he continues. “There is one further issue for which I must ask Huangshang and Taizi-dianxia for their forgiveness.”

A tense, pregnant pause follows. This, Lan Wangji knows, is the real reason why the court has been kept back long after the morning session has ended, the reason why he has not been permitted to rise to his feet.

“What offence has been committed that Hanguang-wang must ask for forgiveness?” Lan Xichen asks, keeping his voice carefully devoid of any tell-tale inflection.

“Replying to Taizi-dianxia,” Lan Wangji says. “While stationed at the camp in Jiangling, a messenger arrived from Yunmeng seeking aid. Even knowing there were many things suspect about both message and messenger, I abandoned my post to travel to Yunmeng without first seeking permission.”

Murmurs break out amongst the officials at his declaration. As a soldier, abandoning your post during war is an act of desertion, punishable by death. For Lan Wangji to have committed such an offence, as the commander of the Jiangling front and a member of the Imperial Family, even if he escapes execution, punishment is inevitable. All eyes shift towards Lan Xichen, still as a statue above them, looking down impassively on his younger brother prostrate before him.

“That is indeed a grave offence,” he says. “An offence punishable by death. Do you acknowledge this?”

“Yes, Taizi-dianxia.” He ignores the collective intake of breath around him. “I accept whatever punishment Huangshang and Taizi-dianxia see fit.”

“Taizi-dianxia!” A voice rings out in the hall and there’s a flurry of activity as the ranks of the military officials part to allow one of their own to kneel behind Lan Wangji in the aisle. “Hanguang-wang has indeed committed a grave offence, but this lowly official dares beg Taizi-dianxia to take into account the many great deeds Hanguang-wang has accomplished in the war against Qishan, and spare him from execution!”

And then, as though his words had broken a dam, the officials in the hall—both civil and military alike—fall to their knees and prostrate themselves before Lan Xichen.

“We beg Taizi-dianxia show mercy!”

Lan Wangji raises his head enough to meet Lan Xichen’s eyes briefly, before lowering his gaze again. “Taizi-dianxia, wrongdoings must be punished. If the Son of Heaven breaks the law, he is just as guilty as the common folk. What example would I set the people of Gusu if I shirk the consequences of my actions?”

Through all of this, Lan Xichen remains quietly listening and observing each of them in turn. He holds up a hand for silence; a hush falls over the court as they await his ruling.

“You have all made valid points,” he says, nodding his head slowly as he considers their arguments. His face gives nothing away. “Such a grave offence cannot be overlooked, of course, and due punishment must be dealt. However—” He raises his voice when it looks like the officials may protest, “—what Lin-jiangjun says is not without merit. Without Hanguang-wang’s efforts, victory against Qishan would not have been possible. With this in mind, Hanguang-wang shall be sentenced to thirty-three strikes with the disciplinary whip.”

Lan Wangji sinks to the floor, an odd calm falling over him. A public whipping is one of the lighter punishments for the crime of desertion, but a harsh one nonetheless. No one watching would think he had gotten off lightly because of his status as an Imperial Prince, especially not when it must be endured publicly. He thinks of the message still tucked away inside his robes, of the length of red ribbon resting over his heart, of the massacre left behind in Lotus Pier, and knows in his heart that he would do it all again.

“Wangji gives thanks to Huangshang and Taizi-dianxia for their benevolence.”

--

Notes:

Huangdi (皇弟) - Imperial Younger Brother, opposite of Huangxiong (皇兄)

Er-chen (儿臣) - Son and Subject, used by princes to refer to themselves when talking to the Emperor - in this case, LWJ is thanking his father in absentia (because LXC is representing the Emperor as Regent, thus his decisions are considered on behalf of the Emperor).

--

master post is here: besanii.tumblr.com/shattered-mirrors-master-post

--

buy me a ko-fi: ko-fi.com/besanii

[brandstifter-sys]

Sonnets

Word Count: 2144 (Ao3)

Pairing: Dukexiety with some Creativitwins

Rating: T+

Warnings: Sexual themes, brotherly angst, talk of death

Roman finds a journal and assumes it’s Remus’ but when Remus says it’s not his Roman leaves him with it, so he has some time to read. Little does he know what will come from perusing that book.

-----

Remus was chaos, he didn't bend to anyone else's rules unless he wanted to. Almost nothing was off the table for him—gore, violence, monsters, pain—but he had limits. Don't steal Janus' hat when he isn't holding or wearing it, because an angry Janus meant silence, or worse being silenced and alone. Never ever get too gross with Patton, because he will scream and cry and flash those hideous puppy dog eyes! Stay at least 6 feet away from Logan or suffer through a lecture on how little influence the duke held. Never let Roman hurt himself so bad he can't heal. And never ever read Virgil's diaries. 

Remus was happily throwing shurikens at a large canvas with paint balloons, having fun despite only hitting the ones filled with red. It was just a little annoying to only have one color on a solid white background, and even more annoying when it was Roman's colors staring at him. Roman hadn't been much of a good brother in the past few years, and it stung to think about how they drifted apart. How almost everyone ran from him to Roman. It hurt to be so lonely. 

"Greetings, Your Disgrace!" Roman said as he entered the castle atrium suddenly. Remus threw another star that lodged itself in the canvas with a splash and a thump, and grinned manically at the unsettled prince. 

"Well if it isn't MacBetty himself!" Remus said and cracked his neck sharply, "What hell did I probably unleash on you today?" 

"Don't flatter yourself," Roman scoffed and held up a black journal with sparkling green trim, "You left this in the common area." 

"Did I?" he asked and righted his head with a sickening pop. He was as bad as Roman about collecting cool journals and never filling them, so it could be his, even if he didn't recognize it. Roman handed it to him and crossed his arms. 

"It would appear so. If Logan yells at me for leaving my notes lying about, he will certainly yell at me for yours." 

Remus hummed softly and ran his fingers over the cover, ignoring the jab. The trim pricked his fingers as they glided over it. It was a nice journal, but definitely not something he conjured up. He supposed it might have been a gift, but that would mean someone made something for him—someone other than Janus, and maybe just one other side, but he remembered every gift Virgil ever gave him.

"He likes to yell. Are you sure this is mine?" he questioned, still learning the rise and fall of the trim.

"I assumed, considering the design. I don't like to open other people's journals," Roman answered. Remus knew he was scared of leafing through it, probably expecting some security monster popping out the second he opened it. He didn't blame him for that one, but it stung nonetheless.

"Me neither, but now I'm curious!" Remus laughed and opened to a random page. It was all hand-written poetry. Interesting!

"It's a poetry book! Wanna hear one? It could be a hint!" Remus wiggled his eyebrows. Roman let out a short sigh but went tense. 

"I have other things to do. I came to drop off the book and now I must depart. Farewell." Roman bowed and sank out with flourish. He left far too quickly for comfort.

"Love you too, nice seeing you again, don't be a stranger," Remus pouted and went back to his room, too bummed to paint anymore. 

  He rose up and flopped on his bed with the journal open. Some angsty poetry might make him feel better. He got comfy and let his eyes traverse the page

My mouth is dry Sugary sweet and kind Choking me with my own tongue Out of everything, that saccharine isn't a lie

Remus pursed his lips. That one was really short, and with the talk of lies, he had to wonder. Was this actually Roman's? Did he want to share this with him covertly? Remus bit back a squeal at the thought and kept reading with some hope. 

Lost in translation Obstinate and selfish Get over yourself Avoidance builds pressure Never any quiet when you snap

Remus giggled, knowing exactly who that one was about! Someone pissed the author off! And he knew that that person pissed Roman off a lot! He turned the page, expecting to learn more about this author, believing they could be his brother wanting to reconnect. He was a little surprised to find a skull doodled in the corner but brushed it off.

I want to pull him from the shadows and into my heart Will he see me? Will he disappear if I reach for his hand? Am I blind and staggering in desperation? Someone like him would be better without me Someone like him deserves someone better No star deserves to succumb to a black hole

That one hurt. Remus wiped away the tears forming in his eyes. He knew that feeling all too well. The one side who made him want to obey, the side that made his heart flutter like the bats in his tummy—that side was his best friend and then he left. He missed his partner in crime and he wished that Virgil would come back, just for a visit, and spend time with him again. But that wasn't happening and he had a whole book to read about an author he could really connect with, Roman or not.

He went through several poems that were angsty and angry, full of self-loathing. With each piece he read, the more he doubted it was Roman. The language wasn't formal enough and it didn't match his style at all! It was good stuff, most of it, and Remus kind of hoped the real author would be willing to collaborate with him. He liked this guy.

Like the sun overhead, you're on fire The big man has a little golden boy Pompous and cruel with haughty desire Which one of us are you gonna destroy?

Darkness and shadow that cannot be lit Overshadowing you to make it stop Use that hubris to land another hit I'll keep fighting until the curtains drop

You think you're Hercules when you're so weak Rise like a phoenix Icarus, just try  Maybe you'll learn what it means to be meek Until that day you won't see me cry

I will rain on your parade every damn time Stopping stupidity is my worst crime

Okay so that one threw him for a loop. It would take a few minutes to piece it together. Remus decided that he could assume it was about Roman this time. Princey loved the classics and he had a pet phoenix. This author had some beef with him! Remus hoped for more anger at Roman with the next poem, because he certainly had enough pent up with the snobby, best-friend stealing, always got the spotlight prince. He didn’t get that catharsis, he got more than he bargained for.

I find comfort in breathing in his scent Even if his hands are mine for tonight If he asks, I don't know where his clothes went What I'm doing is wrong but it feels right

If I close my eyes I can taste his kiss A dream in a nightmare clouding my mind Hearing my name on his lips would be bliss To pin him down, our fingers intertwined

I long to stare into piercing jade pools So he thinks of me while I stake my claim I want him to never want to let go I always thought that love was just for fools But on his green sash, love, or something, came I almost regret that he'll never know

This was definitely not a book the author wanted to share. Remus was pretty sure that his face was going to melt off. Now he really wanted to figure out who wrote these! Someone actually liked him like that at some point! It definitely wasn't Princey in that poem—Remus still had the sash mentioned! He was just the tiniest bit turned on, but most of his hype went into his famous wiggles.

"You're so dead!" 

Remus jolted up and beamed. Virgil never stopped by anymore, so when he popped up threateningly, Remus was too happy to care or put the pieces together.

"And how do you wanna kill me? I have some suggestions!" he sang and shimmied. Virgil scowled and crossed his arms. 

"Have Janus wipe your memory and give it back." 

"What, the book?" Remus questioned and held it up. Virgil snatched it and held it to his chest protectively. Remus' eyes widened in horror.

"You wrote all that?! And I read it!? Oh no no no no no! I had no idea—I'll get Hisster Myde and scrub it away with steel wool! Dammit I am so sorry, Sca–Virgil!" Remus yelped and got up to pace. His only rule about Virgil, broken! The only rule he wanted to follow—tarnished!

"Were you about to call me 'Scabby Doo' again?" Virgil scoffed, hiding the fear and hurt he felt. 

"No, 'Scare Bear,' something kinda cute but that’s not important right now!" Remus answered, "I read your stuff without asking! I might be a crazed Camus Stranger boy, but I have some standards!" 

"Remus. Breathe. You're gonna wipe this trash from your memory and it'll be okay," Virgil tried to soothe him, only for the duke to go rigid. 

"Trash!?" Remus snarled and spun on his heels and marched up to Virgil until the lumbering emo hit the wall, confused and scared. 

"It's not trash! I know trash! I eat it for breakfast! That book holds some of the best stuff my critical creative ass has read in ages!" Remus snapped and glared up at him with a fire in his eyes. 

"What?" 

"Those poems are great! I was gonna find the author and beg on my knees like a needy subby bitch to collab with him because holy shit! I felt something with each one!" 

"Even the one with the skull doodle on the page?" Virgil squeaked, his face a beautiful shade of red. Remus smiled sadly. 

"Yeah, that one hit a little too close to home. I got all teary eyed. Thinking about it now after reading that saucy sonnet, it really hurts!" 

"I uh—" Virgil stammered, "I'm, uh, 'm sorry for the sash and the whole—"

"If you apologize for anything else I am going to lip wrestle that apology away!" Remus cut him off, "Because dammit, Virgil, I love you, even if you don't feel the same way anymore. No more self-hate and no more doubting yourself." 

"Puppy," Virgil said and finally took back some control, guiding Remus back and having him sit down, "I can't promise I'll be able to stop that completely, but if you can stand a little bit of it, I wouldn't mind making that collab a date." 

"Really!?" Remus grinned making Virgil's eyeshadow turn purple, "Can we paint too? And watch scary movies? And make out? And then try and woo each other with some dark prose until one of us caves and asks the other to be his boyfriend? And then f—" 

"Yeah," Virgil cut him off and pressed a finger to Remus' lips, "Except for the part about caving. Will you–I mean, only if you want to, would you–and it’s cool if you say ‘no’ since things might be a little weird but—”

“Band-aid, Emoraptor!” Remus cut him off, like he used to do back in the day when Virgil started down one of his nervous tangents.

“Maybe be my boyfriend now?" Virgil said quickly and winced.

"Yes!" Remus cheered and dragged Virgil into a hug, tumbling on the sheets, "Loom over me like a cypress tree and stay with me until I taste death for a night." 

"Stay here and cuddle until we pass out like touch starved gremlins? Only if you visit me in the abyss until this world calls," Virge mused and wrapped his arms around the duke, curling around him protectively. 

"And then the next," Remus hummed softly and kissed his hand, “But you’re always in my dreams!” Virgil buried his face in Remus’ neck and smiled against his skin. Who would have thought that they would wind up here?

Roman sat on his bed and stared at the collage of pictures he had on the wall. In the very center was an old drawing of him and Remus in front of a castle. He sighed wistfully and stared at it, admiring Remus' work. He hoped that sneaking into Virgil's room was worth it—he wanted Remus to be happy even if he couldn't provide that joy. Maybe one day he’d be able to, but until then, he hoped he got his best friend and brother together to make some amends if not more.

[botanicallyinclinednerd]

*sigh* I entertained the cursed thought of Evil!Leon and now it won't leave, so fuck it: bullet point frame work

Warnings for blood, temporary character death, graphic injury, murder, attempted murder, angst with a happy ending, magic reveal

First of all this is also immortal Leon, because I could

Morgana is discovered by a patrol headed by Leon and he's the only one of the round table there.

For some reason or another Morgana is having a really bad life day and completely obliterates the patrol in her rage.

And for narrative purposes/ the man is very sturdy, Leon somehow survives the assault, but he's not in good shape

Morgana, in her full sadistic glory, offers a painfully dying Leon a second chance, he need only pledge himself to her and she would heal him

Leon, while chocking on blood, defiantly glares at her, declaring "You're wasting your time Morgana, I will die before I betray Arthur"

And at this something hardens in Morgana's eyes and she lunges forward with a dagger and plunges it into Leon's heart, twisting it violently while hissing "so you shall" before pulling it back out

This, obviously, kills him

And for some reason or another, maybe its a part of why Morgana is having a no good very bad terrible awful day, she sticks around the site of the massacre for a bit rather than immediately leave.

Which is how she witnesses Sir Leon, whose heart she plunged a dagger into not an hour ago, take a gasping breath

This, quite understandably, scares the shit out of both of them

It scares the shit out of Morgana because she knows she killed him, there is no way he's alive

And it scares the shit out of Leon for much of the same reasons, he knows she killed him, why the fuck was he breathing (he did not know he was immortal before this point)

And while Morgana is still in shock, Leon asks angrily what she did to him, why did she bring him back (while he is scrambling for his sword and to rise, because that worked soo well for him the first time)

Morgana tilts her head at him, a slow sinister smile spreading across her face as she replies "I did nothing my dear knight"

And it is in this moment that Leon realizes he fucked up

Morgana probably kills him again for good measure, to see what will happen, and sure enough, he's back again in a little while.

Leon is freaking the fuck out and Morgana's day just completely turned around because she has Arthur's most loyal knight, his first knight, and he can't die

To make a long process short, she kills him for transport to where ever she's hiding, kills him a few more times because she can, and as she does so she formulates a plan. Since it has become quite obvious that Leon was not aware of his allergy to death, Morgana reasoned that no one back at the castle would know either. And if she could control Leon... well. Camelot and Arthur's head on a platter was as good as hers.

Since her last attempt to kill Arthur by proxy through a creature ended poorly, Morgana decides on an enchantment.

I’m thinking maybe the spell has a caveat, the only way for it to be broken is if Leon was killed by another Immortal's hand, something Morgana is certain is impossible, and is sure to gleefully inform Leon of this so in his last moments of free will, his hope and spirit would break

When Leon returns to Camelot, he doesn't act strange. A little haunted maybe, but not outwardly out of character

He says he was the only person to survive the attack by Morgana, and he barely made it away with his life (she either roughed him up to make this believable, or he did it himself)

Everyone is relieved he’s safe and back home

Arthur makes a light hearted joke about how this was the second time Leon was the lucky sole survivor of an attack, and he really needs to stop scaring Arthur like this, he’s starting to think he's doing it on purpose

And in the first indication that something might be off, Leon smirks at this, his laugh much darker than usual, and he makes a returning dark joke. Nothing out of the ordinary, really, nothing that couldn't be explained as him having survivors guilt and being exhausted and in pain

And for a while everything seems fine.

Everything is not fine.

Leon is a much more subtle assassin than Merlin was. Much more patient as well. His first attempt is in a patrol in the woods, where he tries to catch Arthur off guard.

Arthur notices in time and fends him off, expressing confusion, and Leon pulls what he pulled in Servant of Two Masters when he finds Arthur behind the tree: awkward apologetic smile (much more sinister this time, his eyes are much colder)

He apologizes profusely, being a bit self depreciating as he admits that he was still a bit jumpy from his last trek through the woods and was on edge

Arthur accepts this and just tells him to be more careful, though ultimately there was no harm done

Arthur turns away and Leon frowns/glares

Maybe Arthur makes a passing mention of it to Merlin, asking him if he noticed Leon jumpier than usual, and Merlin replies that he hasn't really seemed jumpy per say, but definitely quieter and more closed off

Again, this isn't a huge red flag considering that he went through, but Merlin starts to pay closer attention to Leon, just in case

Leon seems fairly normal. He's a little quicker to temper, and his humor is much darker than usual, and his smiles are more smirks than anything, but he's not really treating anyone any differently

His behavior isn't suspicious, he's not in questionable places, he's just Leon with some survivors guilt and trauma. So Merlin relaxes.

When a mystery assailant keeps setting traps and ambushes for Arthur in cleaver and subtle ways, Merlin is at his wits end trying to figure out who it is. And he’s getting worried, as the last two attempts very nearly succeeded.

Leon is a very patient assassin. This drives Morgana nuts

She demands he meet her outside the castle walls one night when he's on solo rounds of the castle to demand what is taking so long

"Do you want him dead or not?"

"Of course I want him dead, I want him dead NOW. Stop dragging your feet and kill him already!"

And let me tell you, Morgana may have taken control of his loyalty and twisted his motivations, but she could never rid Leon of his sass

"Morgana, this is why you've never managed to kill Arthur. No patience. No attempts on Arthur's life have ever succeeded for a reason, I'm avoiding those mistakes. You can have it done quick or done right, I'm trying to do it right."

In the end, Leon had a valid point, as it was Morgana's impatience that demanded Leon sneak away from his rounds to meet her, and caught Merlin's attention as he saw Leon sneaking into the woods

Merlin follows Leon and sees him meeting with Morgana and every alarm bell goes off in his head. Because Leon despises Morgana, and he would never betray Arthur, never. Not willingly at least. So Merlin figures out that Leon is compromised, and all those near misses on Arthur recently that Merlin couldn't figure out the source of must have been Leon's doing.

Leon tells Morgana she just needs to wait one day more, as he plans to kill Arthur the following night. Morgana hisses at him "see that you do" and leaves

Merlin follows Leon back to the castle where the knight continued on his rounds, prompting Merlin to run to his and Gaius's quarters.

Gaius isn't happy to be woken in the middle of the night, until Merlin explains what he saw

"Leon? Working with Morgana? Are you certain?"

"Pretty sure, yeah. I heard Leon tell Morgana he was going to kill Arthur tomorrow night. Leon would never betray Arthur, especially not to Morgana. She did something to him, I know she has"

They quickly rule out a femora and eventually conclude that it must be an enchantment. One so powerful to bind and manipulate one's loyalties and will would have to have a very specific condition to break it. The only way to stop/ save Leon and protect Arthur is for Merlin to figure out what it is so he can break it

He does not manage to figure it out

So when night comes and Leon is acting shifty as he heads in the direction of Arthur's chambers, Merlin has to do something, prepared or not

He comes up with an excuse or another to get Leon to come with him, its urgent, blah blah blah

Merlin pulls Leon into an empty room where no one would be likely to find them or interrupt them. And Leon tolerates Merlin's rambling excuse for pulling him aside for a few moments before he's had enough and brushes Merlin off, trying to leave

And Merlin doesn't let him, blocking the exit.

Leon is still trying to maintain his cover, but his patience is finally beginning to run out

He tells Merlin to move, he has duties to attend to, and Merlin cuts to the chase. “I can’t let you hurt Arthur, Leon”

And Leon studies Merlin, nods, and breaks out into a wide smirk. “Took you long enough to figure out. What gave me away?”

And Merlin is thrown by the sudden shift in behavior, but as long as Leon is talking he isn’t killing Arthur, so he’ll take it. 

“I saw you talking to Morgana. I heard you plotting to kill Arthur.”

And Leon nods, tutting. “I really wish you hadn’t seen that Merlin.”

And Merlin is in desperate ‘try to reason with him’ mode, which is obviously not working because Leon is under a powerful enchantment. And while it was amusing at the start to toy with Merlin, Leon has had enough.

All patience has run out. 

"Merlin, if you do not get out of my way and keep your mouth shut, I will kill you, and do so gladly"

Merlin of course does neither of these things.

Leon attacks Merlin, and Merlin barely dodges the sword. Merlin is, understandably, pretty scared. This is someone he considers a close friend, a brother, and he's currently trying to kill him. Merlin tries to talk Leon down, but its not working. There is taunting involved, and some very evil smirks

All the while Leon is swinging at Merlin with his sword, coming very close to hitting Merlin.

The final straw is when Leon knocks Merlin down, stands over him with his sword to his chest, and taunts Merlin that he is going to kill him, and then he's going to kill Arthur, and there is nothing Merlin can do about it

Well. Yes. Yes there is.

Merlin's eyes flash gold and before his eyes can even widen in surprise at this unexpected development, Leon is thrown backwards into a wall. Hard.

His head hits the wall with a sickening crack and collapses into a still heap.

Merlin is very much panicking as he scrambles up and over to Leon, feeling for any sign of a pulse.

He can't find one.

Merlin desperately tries to cast a healing spell but its not working. Leon's dead.

Important note for the record: Merlin did not know Leon was immortal. Merlin also did not know the stipulation that would release Leon from Morgana's enchantment.

So Merlin thinks he just killed a man he viewed as a big brother

He takes this about as well as could be expected: absolutely horribly.

He’s crying, babbling definitely, the words "I'm so sorry" "I didn't mean to" "please wake up" are mixed in there and repeated a lot

And then, lo and behold, Leon woke up

Its hard to say who was more surprised: Leon or Merlin

It would be fair to say Merlin, as his brother he accidentally killed ten minutes ago was sitting up in his arms, definitely alive

But it would also be fair to say Leon, who decidedly was himself again, free of Morgana's enchantment. Which should have been impossible, save from dying at the hand of an immortal. So not only is Leon dealing with being himself again, but he's also processing the information that apparently Merlin is immortal. And oh yeah: killed him by using magic

So they are both freaking out

And Merlin stammers out a mess of words that boils down to "what?? How are you alive? You, you were dead, I know you were dead! Oh gods, you were dead, I killed you, I swear I didn't mean to, you were trying to kill Arthur, you were trying to kill me, I was just trying to stop you, I didn't mean to kill you..." and he's clinging to Leon during this, and is totally not still crying

And Leon eventually manages to get a word in and halt Merlin's rambling with an exasperated and slightly hysterical "Merlin, I'm not dead!"

"You were!"

"Can we focus on that later? Is Arthur alright?"

And now Merlin is instantly back on alert, drawing back a bit to study Leon's face, but still holding his shoulders. "He's fine." At Leon's sigh of relief, Merlin asks slowly "Do you still want to kill him?"

And Leon is instantly horrified and shaking his head vehemently declaring "No!"

And then he stops, thinks, and realizes he truly meant it. He no longer felt any distain towards his friend and king, the sickly poisoning influence from Morgana's enchantment gone

Which was only possible at the hand of another immortal.

Leon's brain is going a million miles an hour, his often misused or missing brain cells taking longer than they should to come to the obvious conclusion, but in his defense, he had a lot to process, and it is a pretty unbelievable conclusion

"Merlin, you said you killed me?"

And the guilt is right back with Merlin apologizing and defending with "I swear I didn't mean to!"

"But you're sure YOU killed me? Absolutely positive?"

And Merlin's starting to get a bit annoyed, why the fuck would he lie about killing a man he viewed as a brother? "Yeah Leon, I'm pretty sure. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget it"

If this had been normal circumstances, Leon may have comforted Merlin, but these were most certainly not normal circumstances, because if Merlin killed him, that had to mean one thing:

"Merlin, since when are you immortal?"

What ever Merlin was expecting Leon to say, it sure as fuck wasn't that (friendly reminder that Merlin doesn't know he's immortal at this point)

So it is with very real confusion that he says slowly "I'm... not?"

"Clearly you are, or I would probably be trying to kill you to get to Arthur right now"

This is clearly the wrong thing to say, because Merlin now thinks this is an elaborate trick, and somehow, has come to the conclusion that this isn't even Leon, or if it is, he's a Shade like Lancelot was.

So Merlin scrambles to his feet, grabbing Leon's sword and pointing it at him. Leon raises his hands in alarm and also to placate Merlin (he’s still not used to being immortal and forgot that the sword can’t actually do him permanent harm)

"Merlin, I'm not going to kill you. The enchantment Morgana had over me is gone, you broke it" ("with magic" is screamed loudly in his head, but one earth shattering topic at a time)

"I don't believe you"

"The enchantment had a condition to it: the only way to escape Morgana's control was if another immortal took my life. You killed me, and now that control is gone. I have no desire to hurt Arthur or you, or anyone else in Camelot." I swear to you on-" he goes to say his life and realizes that maybe that wouldn't mean as much anymore and adjusts "I swear to you on my honor as a knight of Camelot."

Merlin doesn't know what to believe. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. So he makes Leon explain everything, which he does. Leon still has all his memories, though some of them seem a little distorted and distant, but still there are the same

When Leon finishes, Merlin puts down the sword, approaches Leon and makes him promise again. He does so, and Merlin finally believes him

He collapses into a sitting position next to Leon, looking exhausted but relieved. They are silent for a bit until finally...

Leon eventually decides its time to address the elephant in the room: "Merlin, how long have you been practicing magic?" It’s said in a way that aims for nonchalance and misses by several miles

Merlin, naturally, goes pale and plays dumb

"Merlin, I saw your eyes glow gold and then I was being flung across the room. That's magic"

And Merlin's still denying it, fiercely, and Leon has had a very long day and an even longer month

"Merlin, I'm having a hard enough time knowing what's real and what's not right now, please don't make me question this too"

And what was Merlin supposed to do? Continue to deny what Leon clearly figured out?

"I was born with it" is whispered, a scared admission

"I didn't think that was possible"

"Yeah well, I'm special"

"I could have told you that Merlin"

This is going much better than Merlin thought it would. He expected anger, yelling at least. Not teasing, as tired as it sounds

"Are you going to tell Arthur?" Is asked in that same scared voice from before

He should. Leon knows he should. As a knight of Camelot, it was his duty to uphold the laws of the kingdom, and magic is against those laws.

But it was also his duty to protect the king, a duty, through no fault of his own, he had abandoned and gone against. Where as Merlin did his job for him.

That and he could not deny his friendship to the younger man, the protective nature he felt for him

Seeing Merlin stare at him with fear and resignation, like he had already been condemned to death, Leon realized there was really only ever one possible response he could give:

"No. I'm not"

Merlin did not expect this.

When he sees Merlin's surprise, Leon gently bumps Merlin with his shoulder. "Merlin, I know you. You would never hurt Arthur, would never do anything to put Camelot in danger. Magic or not, that doesn't change. I would not risk condemning you to exile or death when you have done no harm"

At Merlin's pained look between Leon and the wall, Leon sighs. "I'm fine Merlin. I'm more than fine, you broke Morgana's enchantment. It was not... ideal, but it was the only way"

Merlin shakes his head "Leon, I didn't know. I didn't know you'd come back. If it was anyone else, they wouldn't have. I killed you, using magic. How do you not hate me?"

"Merlin," Leon waits for Merlin to make eye contact, putting a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Magic has saved my life, in the past. And as far as I'm concerned, it saved my soul today. Am I wary of it? Yes, because I have seen the harm it can do in cruel hands. But I also know that it can protect and heal in kind ones. How many times have you saved Arthur's life?"

Startled by the sudden question, Merlin answers honestly "I've lost count"

"How many times have you used your magic to protect, to save?"

"Always"

Leon ruffles Merlin's hair with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I could never hate you for upholding the same ideals I live by Merlin, regardless of your methods of doing so."

And finally, finally Merlin gets it. He's not going to be imprisoned, he's not going to be outed as a sorcerer, Leon is alive and himself again and has no intention of hurting him, and Merlin doesn't have to worry about losing his friend anymore because apparently he's immortal and he is too but he is not about to deal with that right now (and also let's be real, he’s still going to worry about Leon)

It is with this that Merlin finally relaxes for the first time in a long time, shuffling closer to Leon and leaning against him, the knight putting an arm around him and pulling him close, each taking comfort in the presence of the other

It's a lot to take in, and it will take many conversations and explanations over the next few days and weeks to even begin to unpack and comprehend it all, but for now, each man was left with the relief and knowledge that they were safe with the person beside them.

The end! This is not at all what I thought it would be when I first started to write it, but I'm okay with that. If anyone wants to write this into a proper full length fic feel free to do so, I just ask that you please credit me and send it to me so I can read it!

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Bethany x Alistair (Bethistair)

Rating: T

Ch WC: 3115

AO3

Chapter 4

He was dreaming the most wonderful dream. He was old, he could tell by the amount of wrinkles on his hand. Her also. She had the same wrinkles in her skin as his as he held her, staring out over the lake. The sun was just setting and it was warm. Summer, it must have been. It was beautiful, almost as beautiful as her. Elissa smiled at him, her face clear as day and leaned into his shoulder. He kissed her forehead. They remained that way for what seemed an eternity and then—

He had to piss. Nothing was as jarring as that feeling after a nice dream. Alistair went about his business, the dream fading even though he’d clung to it desperately.

He crawled back into his bed. Squeezed his eyes shut. If he could just go back to sleep, he could be with her again. He pulled the blanket tighter. Burrowed himself in its dark and let himself be hollow. The day could start without him right?

He never slept.

Just sort of curled up into himself and let his mind lecture him instead.

Get out of bed Alistair.

No matter how many times his mind told him to get out of bed or tried to entice him with life’s beautiful delights, including the promise of spring, there seemed to be this external invisible force pressing him further into his mattress and he couldn’t get it off. That sudden urge to cry came over him again. Maker, would it ever end?

Clattering by his bed and Alistair groaned. Why hadn’t he written a decree stating that not a single soul could be in his castle excluding his son and the healer?

“I brought you some breakfast. The servants claim you haven’t been eating.”

Great. Somebody had called in the calvary. He clung even tighter to his blanket.

“Alistair. You can’t just lie in bed all day.”

He heard Anora sigh. A bit dramatic in his opinion.

He mentally prepared for her to yell at him or give him a stern talking to. She never came to the castle otherwise.

“Trust me. If I could have just lain in bed all day after Cailan passed, I would have. I understand how you must feel. But you’re not doing anyone any good by not eating. You want to waste away? Leave Bryce without either of his parents?”

The Maker knew his brain was useless for getting him out of bed so he’d thought it’d be comical to send Anora instead. He should count himself lucky.

Light blinded him as the blanket was ripped away. He should’ve clutched it tighter. Blankets these days were as precious as pearls.

“Get up. We’re going to the lake.”

He balked, shrinking away, scrambling for a cozy shadow. “But I don’t want to,” Alistair whined.

“But you’re going to. So sit up. Eat. Get your big boy pants on and meet me at the front gate in an hour. Or so help me I will drag you out of this bed myself and spoon feed you.”

He dared to glance at Anora. She was serious, of course. She shoved a glass of orange juice at him. He eyed it suspiciously as she rolled her eyes and forced it into his hands.

“Now drink,” she commanded.

He hesitated more out of defiance than anything. “I could have you thrown from court for how you’re speaking to me. Could even put your head on a pike.” Emphasis on the last word had to have sounded threatening.

Her eyes nearly rolled out of her head that time. “For Andraste’s sake Alistair, don’t be so morbid.” She shook her head and muttered something about an insufferable little brother. She handed him a piece of buttered toast next.

“Where am I supposed to put that?”

“In your mouth.”

He glared. Drank his juice and traded the empty glass for the toast. He took the world's smallest bite out of it and chewed. And chewed. And chewed. After he swallowed, Anora patted him on the cheek.

“There, wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Why are you here?” Alistair asked.

She cleaned the dirt from her nails with a brush she seemingly pulled out of nowhere. “Fergus has been concerned so he sent for me. He knows you listen to my council.”

Alistair scoffed. “More like I let you boss me around.”

“Interesting choice of words.”

After all this time, Alistair still wanted to stick his tongue out at some point in every interaction with her. He shoved his toast in his mouth instead. He didn’t miss that coy smirk on her face either.

She rose and strutted towards the door. “I’ll be seeing you in a short while. Oh, and do wear something comfortable.”

She exited like she was leading an army. Alistair glanced down at his nightshirt. A miserable army of one. He managed to finish half his breakfast and throw on some clothes before the time allotted to him. Though, his main motivator at that point was getting to check on Bryce before he went on an excursion with Anora.

He spotted Bethany and he froze. She should be at breakfast like every other morning when he visited Bryce. And he had been avoiding her for nearly a month, successfully, ever since what he referred to as the incident. He had half a mind to turn around and walk right back out that door.

“Oh good morning,” she said. She was even smiling. Then she motioned him over. Did she not remember him losing his shit over roses? “He’s been having longer periods of wakefulness. Though, he still often calls me his mum.”

All thought of embarrassing incidents, anxieties and what have you dispersed when he heard that. “He calls you mum? Does he not realize…” Alistair didn’t want to say it.

She shook her head and adjusted Bryce’s pillow, smoothed out his blanket. “You may or may not have to remind him. I wouldn’t worry about it now. It’s still too soon to tell whether his memory is affected long term. Of the patients I’ve seen sharing his condition, many have suffered from short term memory loss. I have rarely seen otherwise.”

Rarely. The word wasn’t lost on him. Alistair didn’t think he could explain her death to Bryce again. Maker, wasn’t once enough? He shuddered at the thought and Bethany’s hand was over his.

“Really, you shouldn’t worry.” She squeezed his hand then let it go.

Shouldn’t worry.

Good advice but his heart couldn’t take it. Alistair leaned over and kissed his son’s forehead. “I love you,” he murmured. Then pulled back.

“I will return again after dinner. I’d like to read him some things.”

Bethany nodded. “I think that’s an excellent idea.” She smiled gently at him and the thought crossed him that she had a very pretty smile. Not that he should notice such a thing. Maker, what was he thinking? Hadn’t he just dreamed of his wife this morning? Now he was admiring another woman’s smile?

Forgive me.

He rushed away from Bethany before he thought something else he shouldn’t possibly think.

—

He really didn’t want to be at the lake. Too many bad memories. Too much guilt. Too few enjoyments. And it was cold. Not quite Ferelden winter cold but the wind had a bite and nipped at the tips of his ears. He ticked the reasons off one by one, keeping his worries at bay with complaints until Anora interrupted his thoughts, shoving a fishing rod into his hands. He’d rather try aiming for fish with a bow and arrow. Fishing with a rod was a slow, agonizing way to catch fish, one in which he was left to marinate in his morose musings.

“Already has a worm. Do you prefer to fish off shore or…”

Neither. He didn’t like fishing at all. It was by far one of the most boring and wretched past times he’d ever encountered.

“Shore it is,” she decided for him.

“I don’t like fishing,” he said. But plodded after her anyway.

“Oh, I know. But I do. I find it quite relaxing.”

“Then why not go by yourself? Bringing me along with you seems the opposite of relaxing.”

“I should confess then, I did not bring you along for my benefit.” She cast her line.

“I already mentioned I don’t like fishing. Did you have a lapse in hearing?”

“My hearing is excellent. The benefit is you getting out of bed, getting some sun and fresh air while putting your duties for the day off for a few more hours. Perhaps it would be a good time for you to take your mind off things.”

Her motives were good, he could admit but they were absolute bollocks. The sky was overcast and looked like it would burst into tears at any moment. How was he supposed to get any sun? And if the fresh air was going to smell like fish, especially dead fish, he didn’t want it.

Alistair sighed and attempted to cast his own line. He got it tangled up in the reeds along the shore. Then he cursed and threw the rod on the ground. “Blast! I think I’d do better wrangling fish out of the water with my bare hands.”

Anora sniggered. “What a sight that would be.”

“I’m going to take a walk.”

“No, no!” She grabbed his cloak sleeve. “Stay. If it helps you can talk and I’ll try my very best to listen.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “I—no. I’m good. No need for a talk.”

Not that he didn’t want to talk. Talking would probably do him good. But he couldn’t think of anyone to talk to. Fergus maybe. Though Alistair didn’t feel like he could be honest without diminishing his grief. Ferguson had been through far worse and he didn’t seem to struggle to get himself together. It intimidated him.

“Fine. Have it your way.” She picked up his rod then and fixed his line, casting it for him. She placed it back in his hands. “I’m really sorry for your loss Alistair. However, being so sullen doesn’t suit you or your kingdom. I’m not saying you can’t grieve, just maybe try keeping it contained, hm?”

Alistair closed his eyes. “And how do you propose I just contain my sullenness?”

“Try fishing for starters.”

He wanted to mock her in a tiny man child voice but he refrained. Thankfully he had Morrigan as a traveling companion long enough to train him in the art of biting his tongue. As well as shoving his foot straight into his mouth but that was another story for another day.

He fished silently alongside her wishing desperately to be back with Bryce. The fresh air didn’t feel any different than the drafty castle. The sun was nice at least, when it decided to make an appearance. But the sky was looking more sullen by the minute and the wind was picking up.

“Isn’t this a terrible time to fish?” he asked.

“Any time is a good time to fish,” Anora said.

“I don’t think that’s true. I remember there were certain times fish were more likely to bite.”

“We’re not here for dinner,” Anora snapped.

“So we’re just dipping worms in water for what? Fun? Sounds like torture.” He reeled his line in and studied the sad soggy worm on the hook. “Aw see? Now the poor little worm is a goner. I’ll have to make it a little worm grave.” He removed the worm and set his pole in the crook of some driftwood.

“Stop being ridiculous.”

“I won’t stop until you let me go back to my bed.”

“You know, I was quite fond of Lady Cousland. She was much better at fishing than you.”

“She was much better than me at a lot of things.”

“She was at that.” Anora got a bite on her line. She tugged her rod and reeled it in. No trouble at all.

Alistair sat on the driftwood with his chin in his hands. “I don’t mean to be so morose. I just miss her. I miss her terribly.”

Anora unhooked the fish–a cute little perch–and tossed it back into the water. She set her own pole aside and sat next to Alistair.

“I miss her terribly too,” Anora said.

“You do?”

“Yes. Is that really so surprising? I’d miss you too, even though you’re quite the lummox.”

“Aww,” Alistair placed a hand over his heart, “such warm fuzzy feelings, right here.”

“Must you always act like this?”

“Only with you. One day you’ll come to appreciate it. I–I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye and I’m glad you and Elissa became close after–well after everything. You could have found a clever way to toss us from the throne but you didn’t.”

“Not yet anyway. I could still.”

Alistair allowed himself the tiniest of smiles. Then he cupped his hands around his mouth. “Treason!”

Anora clamped her hand over his. “You are such a child!”

A sort of chuckle snort escaped from Alistair as Anora placed her hands back in her lap. He noticed she could smile too. “I’d still like to take a walk. You could come with me, if you wanted. I promise I won’t run away or do anything stupid.”

She nodded. “I’d like to keep fishing. But do be back in time for dinner. I can’t keep you out forever.”

Alistair nodded and stood. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Anora was taken aback. “An honest thank you? With no snide remark? I–well you’re welcome then I suppose. Now shoo, enjoy the fresh air.”

Alistair went without further ado. Surprisingly, it did him some good. But when he entered the castle later that day to attend to his duties, his heart seemed heavy again.

–

Bethany wasn’t exactly sure if she should be in the room when Alistair came back. He had been dodging her since the garden. But she was tired and the fire was cozy. She also enjoyed seeing this side of the King and had missed him–no missed him interacting with Bryce. He was a kind and tentative father. Much like how her own had been. She pretended to read a book she had no interest in to provide an illusion of privacy.

“…and the young boy bravely reached out to touch the dragon’s snout. His friends gasped, waiting and watching for him to be scorched by fire. But the dragon closed its eyes and huffed, melting under the touch of the boy.” Alistair let out a big yawn. “I think that’s all I can manage tonight. We’ll have to pick up where we left off tomorrow.”

Bethany stole a glance in their direction. Alistair was returning the book to the nightstand. Bryce was fast asleep.

He stretched and she admired his form. Strong arms, wide shoulders, and a slightly rounded belly that she briefly dreamed of laying on. Then her eyes flicked lower and saw he also had quite a lovely bottom, not that she was focusing too much on it. Just appreciative. She told herself to look away and stop thinking such things. He turned and definitely caught her staring. She tore her eyes away and buried her nose in the book. Cheeks flushed.

She pretended not to hear his footsteps coming towards her. The book was really really interesting then. She nearly bore a hole through the book with her immense interest.

He sat across from her.

“I haven’t properly thanked you for all you have been doing to help my son. So, I uh—“ He ran a tired hand through his shoulder length hair, wisps of reddish brown bangs with hints of gray, flopping to each side of his face. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome. Though I must say, it’s a pretty easy thing to do.”

“I don’t think most people would share your opinion.”

She laughed a little. “It’s a good thing I’m not most people then, isn’t it?”

He gave a half hearted chuckle coupled with a nod.

Then they both stared into the fire. Bethany wanted to say something more. Have an actual conversation but she wasn’t even sure where to start. Her brain kept wanting to think about the way her fingers would feel running through his hair. Through his beard and–

“Can I ask you something?”

Praise the maker. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you ever dream of him?”

She tilted her head, searching her mind for the him he was referring to. She blinked as everything came up blank.

“Your brother, I mean. Of Garret.”

“Oh!” Her eyes lit up and then that sad sort of feeling pooled in her stomach. She sighed. “Of course I do. They are always happy. And he is always safe. When I wake up, I remember that it’s all a lie and it hurts.”

“Does it ever stop hurting?”

“Yes, in a way.”

“Hm.” He tugged at his beard.

“Have you been dreaming of your wife?”

“Yes,” he said. His hands came to rest in his lap and he fiddled with the hem of his nightshirt.

“Would you tell me about her?”

Alistair glanced up then. Eyes wide like she was asking him to jump off a cliff.

“I–I don’t really know where to start.”

“How about your dream? Do you remember it?”

“Yes.”

“Well I’d love to hear about it if you’re willing to tell me.”

And he did. He told her all about how they had grown old together. How it made him feel. How it had affected his entire day. How it tore him up inside.

“I just–when the person you share everything with, including your deepest secrets and darkest hurts–when they die, who do you turn to? Normally, they’d be your person. But she isn’t here and it’s so incredibly unfair. Which is ridiculous to think, I know. Life isn’t fair and all that.”

Bethany reached out without thinking, covering his large hand with her smaller one and squeezed. “It’s really not. It’s understandable you feel that way. I’m so sorry Alistair. You’re right. It is incredibly unfair. It’s unfair that the world took what you loved most and still moved on, leaving you to pick up pieces of yourself in the throes of responsibility. It must be difficult.”

“It–it is.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, retracting his hand. Then he bolted upright out of his chair. “I’ve taken up too much of your evening, Bethany. Have a good night,” he spit the words out in a hurry as he fled.

“You too, I guess,” she muttered, then doused the fire with a cone of frost.

[idjitlili]

I can be the God of your Orgasm.

Loki x reader

(Not my image)

Summary:Some how ending up in Sakaar ,Valkyrie ends up taking you under her wing,no not her horse Aragorn,for a year ,until some Gods show up.

Word count:1768

Warnings:Language

A/n: Couldn’t end it , last time I touched this was October. Uhm, there’s a picture of Bowie, probably TMI here, but he was the first man , I ever you know over.Double aswell. I’m sorry.

You just a young woman in y/c ,heading to college your average routine ,but you never made it. Instead you had tripped over into a puddle ,but yet again you were decieved ,it was a portal. You hadn't/only left your country ,let alone been on another planet. You didn't think that was even possible;magic nor to be able to breathe on an different planet,well that was what you were told by the government. No you weren't a flat earther,thats bloody stupid. However you felt like the government hid a lot.

Michael Jacksons death,Heath Ledgers death,River Phoenix's death, Princess Diana's death , David Bowie, Obi-wan,it just seemed a little suspicous, not saying it was definitely them covering up the murders but...

Anyways so you fell into the puddle into a some rubbish ,literal rubbish. You had no idea what happened ,when Valkyrie found you she didn't either. God damn Benedict cumpatch stay in america with your fake american accent. Just stay away ,don't really want to be assassainated for being best buds with Sherlock Holmes and Dildo Gaggins.

Valkyrie had felt bad for such a young mortal being in an strange planet,she couldn't bare to bring you to Grandmaster ,to be apart of his orgies. he was indeed a tough warrior much like Dwalin the dwarf from the hobbit,who funfact is the longest living dwarf living up to 300 years,yes irrelvent.

Thus, you lived with her ,you managed to get a part time job as a cook,just so you didn't feel so bad about living with Valkyrie rent free. When I say part time cook ,I mean you just cooked for you and her,you didn't trust this planet. It was lucky when you fell in that puddle the stuff in your backpack didn't get wet,so you had some books to read,and such.

To be far being away from home stuck on an alien planet really did get boring ,you'd hate to admit it but sometimes you had to go to visit Hulk,because he was sorta normal. No he was not but he was okay ,like a destructive toddler but it was better than being alone. Other than that you really missed home ,you missed tv,you missed ice cream.

Pretty much everyday was boring. Well after almost a year of being here ,Valkyrie had brought a guest to your shared apartment thing. The God you had seen on the television a couple years ago. You had been sitting on the sofa reading at the time ,you jumped so hard when the door slammed open,you had looked up to see valkyrie shoving down a dark haired man in chains.

"Uhhh, are you allowed to kidnap people here?" you had questioned ,causing Valkyrie and the guy turn to you ,you had recognised him after a moment of trying to pin point his face. "I don't think that will hold him...h-he's-"

"Just stay away from him ,don't talk to him,don't look at him,hell don't even think about him,I will be back with Thor ,and then we can get you home, Y/n. So pack your things ." Soon as she had mentioned going home you had already started gathering your things,as Valkyrie had left after the God of Thunder. No you didn't go to the big battle compitions and Valkyrie certainly did not tell you she had found Thor ,but it didn't matter you were going home.

It didn't take you long to pack soon,you had your shoes on and everything sitting on the sofa ,twiddling your thumbs,feeling Loki's gaze on you. What's up with in love stories men staring , oh shut up you are just jealous because you can't even get a boyfriend ,stupid scribe.

"she said not to think about you...can you read minds?" you had questioned ,just really because that gaze he had on you made you feel proper ugly ,in which you were not. He had scoffed at you.

"I'm not a witch."

"I never said you were,you are a God ,must be better than having a hammer, it's like a normal hammer with steriods."

"Ah..so you have heard of me," He had smirked to himself ,you had just looked back at you hands before reaching for your bag grabbing your journal and ink,before just scribbing doodles on a clean page.Loki didn't speak after that not until you did again ten minutes later ,probably less time goes slow when the mood is a drag.

"the thing with new York, that was because of Thanos? People have controlled me by making me feel guilty so many times..OH manipulation ,you probably don't want to hear what I have to say,but I can't help it ,i've been stuck here a year the only person I got to speak to is drunk Valkyrie and hulk in which I feel like I am talking to a child. You know what I really wish I was watching Lord of the rings right-"

"You are from earth,how did you end up here?" He had grinned at you,cutting you off,isn't he like a mass murderer? Well he was tricked into doing it ,so more like accidental murderer ,why is he so handsome. Don't be stupid he is a God of course he is handsome.

"Uh..I fell into a puddle then I was here." The God had turned his head away to the floor ,scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion.

"I don't see how that's possible."

"Well it happene-" Yet you were cut off again,as the door slammed open,you quickly turned away back to your notebook,Thor ,Bruce and Valkyrie stood at the door.

You missed what happened first ,Loki having things thrown at him ,and such,you only looked up when he said something about spaceships,seeing Bruce. Your eyes glittered with excitement , Thor saw this. "Oh my! I can't believe it's-2 Thor had shook his head for you not say it. "Radiation scientist,Bruce Banner, damn,now I must say this is much more exciting than a hammer,which you don't have what's up with that? Hey Bruce how you feeling?Green? Darn, imagine being strongest Avenger!"

Thor had scoffed at you,"Does she always talk this much?"Bruce had made his way over to you smiling at you as you stood up. "It is so cool to meet you mister Banner."

"Thank you miss..." "Y/n" He had smiled at you again before turning to Thor ,"see strongest Avenger,yep that's me."

"well then ,let' hope we can get home,just first we are to go to Asgard."

***

"Valkyrie ,I'm going to stay with Dwayne Johnson,I have no fighting skills so it's better if come I after," you had gestured to Korg.

"Alright then, I'll see you if I don't die" And with that she left you with the aliens,smiling up to them.

"The revolution has begun."

***

"Hey, what's this?"

"Thank you." You had stood next to Korg as he had powered down the taser device on Loki's body,you had stood rocking on your balls of your feet in excitement to get home.

"Hey,man. We're about to jump on that ginormous spaceship. You wanna come?" Loki had jumped up,his hair a messy ,from the intense pain he had just suffered,from betraying his brother yet again.

"well you do seem like you're in desperate need of leadership." The smirk was interweaved into his voice, smooth as his greasy hair.

"Why, thank you."

"Hurry up! It has been too long since I've seen the dance seen in the james franco spiderman three!" You rushed forwards grabbing a hold of the mischief makers arm dragging him towards the ship. "Talkative and touchy," Loki just allowed you to drag him,with him supposively being evil,grinning.

***

"uhhh, what's the chances of as all dying horribly? Do you think if i pretend to be dead she wouldn't notice?" Loki was driving the space ship,whilst you sat in the seat next to him,all the alien people sat or stood behind. You really be riding shotgun on a spaceship,it was you or korg.

Loki did not answer you , yet just slightly smiled glancing to you briefly, not a good sign, you'd think with two Gods you'd be fine ,but clearly not. "Hey do you think if Thor had to fight I don't know- AHH" You weren't sure who you meant to say as you face planted into the spaceship's floor,as Loki's flying had stopped so suddenly causing a jolt. You had laughed to your lesson quietly,patheticly in honesty ,covering up how embarrassing that was.

You felt as if you were Mantis ,when Drax had informed her to watch out after she got hit in the face.  All you could think was there's like a bunch of aliens on this ship and it's guaranteed at least 3 have just seen you face plant.  "Okay , that makes me wish that I was on Thors spaceship right now." Your hair in your face, forearms pressed against the cold metal floor.

"What does he have that I don't?" His voice seeped with sarcasm, okay maybe not he was probably just annoyed that a midgardian was aboard and could not shut up.

"He probably can fly this thing better, well it's probably Bruce but that's even better , do you even know how many PHDs he has?"

"Honestly I do not know and do not care."

"Wow that's not very nice . He has..wait I dont -" The smirk on Loki's face was stamped deep, as he pulled you out of your concentration by doing so. "Shut up I bet you say to all your lovers, ‘If you givee a chance I can be the god of your orgasm’” Honestly you don’t know what made you think of that , something tells you it’s to do with a dude that reads a lot of smut named Blake. Actually the author doesn’t know if he does but..

“Thank you darling, for the new material.”

[earendilslight]

Soooo, I've been simping Thresh since 2014 and now I finally can be open about my love for him because of the cinematic, and since I'm about to apply for the C1 Cambridge certification and I'm in desperate need to practice my writing, it's a perfect time to write fanfics with Thresh 💖

It's just a very little text, maybe, if it gets enough love I'll turn it into an actual fanfiction. But in the mean time, enjoy!

Also, if you happen to notice any mistake let me know!

------—------------------------------------------

He came out of the shadows, where the dim light could reveal his features. It was a tall man, with long dark hair, dressed all in black, from the elegantly fixed necktie to the long-leathered trench coat that covered him down to the knees, a common attire used by the upper classes in Noxus. His face was slim, almost as the shape of the tip of a spear, with sharp cheekbones and a mouth that looked incredibly flexible as he smiled pettily at me. But it was not his smile that shocked me, no, it was his eyes. Eyes that shone like green, supernatural flames, like something evil lingered behind his mortal appearance.

The gaze of the monster in my nightmares. It was the same eyes that had terrified me for as long as I could remember, and now they were there, in the form of a devilman who smiled at me with cruel intentions. I suppressed a gasp, with trembling fingers, grasping at my robe while taking a step back.

I was petrified. How was I supposed to know this was the creature I pretended to make a deal with? I wonder If I would've been so bold to come here if I had known.

"Having second thoughts, miss?" he asked. His voice was deep, dark. The whisper of a phantom "You are indeed right to be frightened. Your soul would be in constant agony, roaming forever inside the lantern. Your friend made a choice, a very foolish one, I must say, and now he must pay the price of his own naive decisions. There is no point in wasting your life as a prisoner nor I'd like to carry a soul like yours."

"A soul like mine?" I said, trying to sound confident, but I could barely utter any words without stuttering.

"Do you wish to spend eternity in the lantern?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"No!" I replied almost immediately, without hesitation. The man looked pleased, even though there was barely a change in his expression.

"Then leave this place at once." He turned around,walking back to the inside of the house.

I realized how much of a mistake I'd made almost too late. I had been so scared that I was about to bail my plan and abandon Charles to his fate. I would never see him again, it didn't matter what choice I made. The only difference would be that, if I could convince that man to take me instead of him, Charles could be free and we could actually find a way to release myself and every other soul trapped in there. He, from outside, while I researched closely to the monster. And even so, I was shaking. Until that point, I hadn't considered the whole implications of being at the services of this devil, and the possibility of dying or, in the worst case scenario, spending the entire eternity in agony, was terrifying. But, hadn't Charles made sacrifices for me too? He was the only family I had left. The thought of my little brother suffering forever was unbearable, wasn't I supposed to be the one to protect him?

I couldn't abandon him like this...

"Wait!" I cried, so hard that it echoed across the entire yard and inside the manor. The man stopped at the door, turning slowly, first his head, then his whole body, now barely a silhouette in the dim light, staring at me without moving a muscle. I had my hand extended towards him, like trying to reach for his own, and I realized he was observing my gesture.

"Maybe... I could be of use outside the lantern..." I muttered, not even sure of what I was saying. He chuckled, almost amused with my comment. It was a muffled sound, not even a laugh.

"How come?" He asked with curiosity. Now I had his attention. It might have been a ridiculous thought, but I was starting to believe it could work.

"You're new to Noxus, sire" I said, straightening my back with an almost futile intention to appear confident. "People here talk a lot. In fact, most of them are already wondering who this mysterious visitor is. Where did he come from? What does he want? Noxus it's not a place who treats kindly it’s visitors, especially those who appear out of thin air and might be dangerous"

"Oh, I assure you, miss, I do not fret a bunch of drunken peasants who might try to trespass. Believe me, they are right to consider me a treat".

"I also consider you someone with a plan" I replied rapidly, getting to keep his eyes on me, and now, he seemed kind of... surprised "You don't strike me as a man who just wanders around this city in search for souls to torture. I believe you are here for a reason..."

He turned completely around, with an annoyed expression in his sharp face. As if I were a ridiculous fly trying to explain to a deadly spider how to seam its web.

"Your reasons are unknown to me" I continued "but I do know that once the people of Noxus begin to suspect you, Gods forbid, those who roam in the shadows, you would be the target of much more dangerous creatures than just drunken peasants."

It was true, actually. Unfortunately, Noxus was a city where you could disappear while walking back home just for people to find your dead body around the market the next morning and no one would bat an eye for you. Not to mention the multiple cults that made human sacrifices to the forgotten deities, besides robbers, assassins, rapists, the spirits that still roamed the streets late at night. Not to mention people had seen members of the Black Rose being more active than before. If this man was careless enough, some of them would notice, sooner or later, that there wasn’t something right with him.

"And what does this have anything to do with the liberation of your dearest brother from the lantern? And with you not taking his place inside of it?"

"I can be of good use outside the lantern, like I said"

Oh, dear God, what was I doing?

"If you let him go, I will be at your service, sire. You can keep me alive, not... dead and I can do anything that implies going outside the manor. People would suspect much less if they see actual movement in the mansion. It's not weird for a lord to have people at his services, even if it's just one harmless housekeeper..."

He seemed… intrigued by my proposal. I could tell he was analyzing every word that came out of my mouth, trying to find a deeper meaning or maybe ulterior motives behind my desires. Keen eyes watching my every move and reaction, almost as piercing through the flesh, into the darkest parts of my soul.

"Imagine I agree to your proposition” he speculated “What makes you think I would just let you go outside as you please?" he started walking towards me. There was this dreadful air around him that made my skin crawl. Like my heart was sinking down my throat and my blood froze little by little in my veins, with every step he took down in my direction.

The glowing, flame-like eyes coming closer, slowly, like the inevitable march of time and death, until the man stood there, five meters away from me, and I could smell the scent of his clothing, carried by the wind. Incense and the sea. Not the dry wood and dust of the hills of Noxus, but a fragrance I almost had forgotten, the one I smelled when I was a child, in a ship...

"I'm pretty sure you have ways to keep me bound to this place" I said, without escaping his glaring and hiding under my robe my shaking hands, while he studied me like a specimen he was about to dissect. "I do not doubt you could trap my brother again, and me, if I betray you. Or to even kill me, if it comes that way"

Maybe he was amused by my daring, maybe he was surprised at how much of a imbecile I was. Either way, he didn't utter a sound. The wind started to blow, much more cold than before, a voice that sang between the trees and the grass, moving the branches of the cypresses and the oaks as if they were to start dancing with the breeze, dragging with it heavy, grey-colored clouds announcing the impending storm.

“Do you wish so much to become a prisoner?” the man asked once more. The surrounding darkness of the clouds made his eyes brighter, like wildfire in the middle of the sea, blurred by the mist of the bay. “To never set a food without being watched? To know the true depths of the despair that brings with it the lack of freedom?”

I smiled, softly. Even when his face showed no change, I could tell he was, at least, studious to my reactions. I believe he was expecting me to be frightened by this, or to a certain degree intensely disturbed. For better or worse, life hadn’t treated me kindly. Since I was ten years old I had been at the service of people who considered me little more than trash and a burden, the next master worse than the last. Ironical, isn’t it? Seemed life had prepared me to serve a monster.

“Sire, I have served my whole life as a prisoner. From one Master to another, I’ve been tied to Bilgewaters my entire life” I admitted, looking directly into his cold gaze and when thunder started to strike, his eyes weren’t dulled by their light. “I do not fret to serve one more time, even if it’s forever…”

There was something that changed in his air. I cannot point out what it was, but his semblance was different, as if the winds of the storm had finally made him feel cold, even though I doubt something like him would be able to feel coldness. His previous smile had disappeared, and his mouth was now a grimace, a straight line, which made the jailer look much more severe than he already was.

“What is your name, miss?” the man asked, with a muttered, calm voice, with both hands behind his back.

“Senara Raion, sire” I responded, trembling not only because that man made me feel paralyzed, but because a very thin but chilling rain had started to fall above us.

He stared at me, thoughtful, almost as if he were expecting a reaction on my behalf.

“Miss Senara, tell me…” Suddenly, he extended his hand towards me, with no alteration to his face. “Do we have a deal?”

I looked at his face, the diabolic eyes, his gloved hand. There was no turning back…

“We do, sire.”

Had I known the future consequences of my choice… I would’ve never set foot on that hill...

-------—-----------------------------------------

Hope you liked it!

[cloudninetonine]

Follow the light

Chapter 1

Synopsis: A Genshin impact/Avatar x fem!reader

A/N: INSTANT SECOND CHAPTER. Also, some stuff from my previous post about this crossover is probs gonna change

I do not own the Genshin Impact or Avatar franchise

Warnings

“Let’s try it again”

Nodding, you took a deep breath, focusing yourself on your actions as you began to move. 

Light on your feet, just like the leaf, if you meet resistance, you must be able to spiral away at a moment’s notice, move like the wind, move like you’re free.

Tsering had practically drilled that into you when you began to learn airbending. ‘It was a must’, she had told you, sending a blast of wind into the the spinning death trap- I mean, into the spinning gates, ‘if you are to be the Avatar you must know how to air bend, even if your power is just that of an average bender as of now’

She was right, of course, but the thought of helping restore Raava’s power and find your brother itched at your mind constantly, kept you awake at night as you practiced your moves, occupied your thoughts when you ate, never had you been so desperate to leave the temple.

Despite that, the thought of leaving these people caused your chest to burn, like you had been stabbed right in the heart with the intent to kill. These people had become family to you, on level with your brother, they cared for you and you cared for them, so you knew when it finally came time to leave, which if you were correct, would be a few days from now, you would shed tears.

You would be alone and it scared you.

“Much better” Tsering clapped, as did the other four nuns, the leading nuns, when you finally ceased, bright smile on your face “You’re improving every day, I’d say you could become a master in just a few more years”

You placed your hands behind you back, rocking on your heels “Would I be able to get my tattoos if I did?”

She smiled back “Of course, you’re considered a nomad after all”

A familiar squeaky voice piped up from your left “Paimon thinks you could improve in your stance”

You sent Paimon the stink eye “You can’t even bend, elf”

“Excuse you! Paimon doesn’t need to bend to know you’re stance stinks-”

“Alright you two, no need to fight” Another nun, Nun Palmo laughed, “(Name), you are dismissed, remember to keep training and if you need help, you only need to ask”

With a ‘thank you!’ and quick bow, you headed off with Paimon for your daily walk around the temple.

“Paimon was only joking earlier, you’ve really improved, your bending was pretty flawless! Though, Paimon noticed that you looked a bit distracted, is everything okay?”

Paimon, the ever so observant, when food wasn’t involved, or when she wasn’t talking, or when she was just...herself. The spirit seemed to know you well enough to notice the shift in your attitude as you bent, mind fogged up over other matters that you didn’t need to think about at that moment.

“Yes, Pai, I’m fine, it’s just…” You searched for the words “I’m starting my journey in a few days and I know Raava is here with me but...I’m going to be alone when I travel so I’m nervous. I’ve never travelled by myself before, my brother’s always been with me so….”

A sigh fell from your lips. “It’s stupid-”

“No it isn’t!” Paimon leaned in close, shaking her fists in exaggeration “Being alone is a big deal! Paimon knows from experience that it sucks being by yourself, so, Paimon’s decided to accompany you on your journey! She am a spirit of guidance after all!”

Your head snapped towards her “Wait...seriously?”

“Seriously!”

The grin that spread across your face was contagious, the spirit mirroring your expression as you hugged her tightly, both of you laughing. “Thank you, Paimon, thank you!”

“No need for thanks!....Actually, keep it coming”

Your heart filled with warmth.

You wouldn’t be alone.

The day came faster than you had expected. As cheesy as it sounded, it had only felt like yesterday when Raava had first spoken with you and the two of you had merged, but it had been just over four months with air bending training being a subject for every single day. A mix of grueling and fun, because learning how to fly using a glider brought you back to earlier days with your wings, but getting your arse kicked by spinning gates, falling from far heights when you mess up your bending- not as fun.

A sort of leaving party had been held the night before, a great buffet for you hard work and just fun games to play with your newly aquired airbending skills. (Tsering had beaten you 5 against 1 in Airball and even then, you were sure she had given you the last one out of pity)

You were changed in your older clothes this time, pulling on your gloves and boots, looking yourself in the mirror in your room the last time. It was weird, seeing yourself in your travelling attire when for the past few years you had been dressed in the familiar orange, yellow and reds of air culture, it only further settled as a reminder that you were leaving today.

You had successfully held back the tears till this point.

“(Name)” Glancing towards your door, Tsering stood with her hands clasped together, a small smile on her beautiful features “Are you ready?”

“Uh, yes!” Fumbling for your bag, you made your way over “I’m- I’m ready”

“Good, but before that” Pulling something from behind her back, she presented it to you “You earned this”

Sat within her palms was an airbending staff, accompanied by your familiar red sash that you supported on your clothes previous. You stood in awe as the elder airbender tied the sash around you, tightening it gently before grasping your cheek, stroking it softly with her thumb. “I will miss you, (Name)”

Tears finally pushed through, eyes glazing over as you engulfed the woman in a tight hug, face shoved into her chest. “I’ll miss you too, Tsering”

Ten minutes later, you were heading towards the bison, specifically your bison, one you had befriended by accident and now considered one of your lifelong pals. You hadn’t meant to bond with him, only airbenders received bison, but you had stumbled upon the ordeal when exploring and he just didn’t seem to care about anyone else. Tsering had let you have him without much argument and smiled when you named him Viator, something she didn’t quite understand back then but now was a completely different story.

“Food has been packed for you, along with water, spare clothes and other necessities” Paimon was already sitting upon Viator’s back, munching on what you guessed was something from breakfast, when you jumped onto the bison’s head, stroking through his fur with love. “Be safe, (Name) and please know, you may return whenever you wish”

“Thank you, Tsering. Thank you everyone, you showed me kindness for all these years and treated me as one of your own. I’ll miss you all so much but I promise I will come back” With a commanding ‘Yip, yip’ Viator had pushed himself off the ground “Farewell everyone!”

The younger airbender girls screamed their goodbyes, waving their hands wildly while the older nuns bowed, sending waves once you began to disappear West, towards the mainland of Teyvat.

Finally, your journey began.

-----

“Look, there it is!”

It had taken an entire day, much faster than you had originally expected and you couldn’t have been more grateful for the existence of sky bison. 

From your point, you could see giant cliffs, a small, sandy bay sat beneath them with a path that led deeper into the mainland, your bison following it when you finally hit the shoreline.

“Did Raava say anything about the statues, like, how to even get the power in the first place?”

You shook your head “No, so I’ll just have to see once we find one- woah”

It had taken only five minute to reach a clearing and boy, was it a sight to behold. Cliffs surrounded the area in a crescent shape, the valley holding a plethora of beautiful trees ranging from the famous forest green to autumn time orange. Beyond it stood a city of stone, laid within a sparkling blue lake, Mondstadt you believed. Dead center sat a small isle within the valley, containing just the thing you were looking for.

“That was quick”

Viator grew closer, groaning when you called ‘Yip, yip!’ to drop the lot of you onto the tiny piece of land, Paimon clapping her hands excitedly.

“Oh!” She cried in delight “That’s the statue of the Anemo Archon, Barbatos! He’s the spirit of Air!”

Floating down, you jogged up the statue with your companion following behind, eyeing the tall structure with intrigued eyes when you finally stood before it, glancing around it briefly before Paimon spoke up.

“What now?”

You shrugged “I...touch it?”

“Paimon..agrees?”

Delicate hands reached out, brushing against the golden plaque molded into the botton of the monument when a beautiful glow was produced from the carved diamond patterns, both you and Paimon gasping in surprise as a heavenly sounded resonated through the area, the glow winding up the statue and forming into a beautiful light orb within the hands of the figure head. Slowly, the ball floated down towards you, like a leaf in the wind, then flew into your chest, a feeling of weightlessness flowing through your entire being.

You glanced over yourself.

“Was...that it?”

Paimon huffed “You know, that���s kind of rude to say about the power the Archon just gave you!”

“I didn’t mean it like that-”

A brilliant light flashed before your eyes, blinding you, the whole surrounding scene blurring away. You threw your hands over your face, protecting yourself from the harsh brightness when it faded as soon as it came, the sound of nature that once encircled you now replaced with a deafening silence.

“(Name)”

You turned towards the voice, smiling “Raava”

The spirit flew towards you, you once again lending your hand out only to notice the slight difference within the being.

“You’re bigger” You noted in excitement, watching her wind up your arm “Have I already restored some of your power that fast? If so, this’ll be easy-peasy”

“You mustn't underestimate this journey, (Name)” She spoke with a wisdom that you hadn’t experienced for what felt like lifetimes, your body straightening up in response to her tone “We have only just begun and the road will only grow more treacherous as we push forward. Not everyone will be so supporting in our quest”

A sigh escaped you “Yeah, you’re right, nothing is ever that easy. I wish we had more help though”

“You are not alone in this, (Name)”

“I know, I’ve got you, Pai, Viator-”

“That is not what I meant”

The noise of confusion you made was cut short at the sound of….wind? It grew louder with it second, until the whisper because a magnificent howl, collecting around the two of you before bursting outwards, forms of multiple figures appearing from the darkness.

“Air nomads?” You glanced around at them all “Wait, not just air nomads”

“No, each is an air nomad in their own right” The multiple air nomads eyes snapped opening, revealing a familiar white glow “Not every nomad is in touch with their culture, some fade away, whether that be from their own choice or anothers, while others stick with air custom”

It hit you.

“Past air nation Avatars….” There were so many, you couldn’t keep count! They even faded into the far distance of this mind space! You had known there had been plenty of Avatars but seeing this much was just...wow “But, I don’t get it, the Avatar cycle was destroyed. Wouldn’t the Avatars have vanished? Like in that Water tribe….Korra, like in Korra’s era”

But then again, Tsering had told you that the following Avatar, an Earth Kingdom boy named Genji you believed, had somehow restored the previous Avatars despite the new cycle. No one ever found out how, but no one really cared, they were just grateful for the Avatar.

“I, as well, am not sure why they are returning” The spirit glanced around before facing you once again, sliding further up to reach eye level “Perhaps it is our connection? Your own spirit? Or maybe it is just luck that they return, but they will help you in your journey, they will be your guides alongside me”

You grinned “Good to know I have more backup”

“(Name)!!!!”

The voice of Paimon echoed around you, concern evident in her voice and you glanced around, trying to find her.

“It is time for you to return, but you can always find us again”

The world around you began to fade, the past avatars disappearing within the darkness along with the spirit.

Paimon sighed in relief when the glow finally dissipated from your eyes, you blinking a few times then glanced towards her with an apologetic smile.

“You can’t just go all Avatar on Paimon like that!” She chided like a mother, waggling her finger at you “Paimon wasn’t sure if what happened was worrying or not!”

“Sorry, Pai, didn’t mean to worry you”

She huffed, floating back to Viator “Let’s just continue on, Paimon thinks we should head over into Mondstadt!”

You hopped onto your bison, patting his head “Why, Mondstadt?”

“It’s the city of Wind of course! Poetry and language flow like the wind, so there must be someone who knows about your brother! At least that what’s Paimon thinks”

“Sounds like a good start, yip- huh?!”

A large shadow cast over you, a bellious roar sounding through the valley, deep, thunderous and strong. Glancing upwards, you both watched as a giant creature, with beautiful blue fathers flew overhead, aimed towards the heart of the forest that laid ahead.

“What was that?!” You cried as Viator groaned in alarm, Paimon looking as spooked as you felt “Paimon!?”

“A dragon! We’ve gotta be careful!”

Dragon? What a weird dragon indeed. You had seen quite a few in your lifetime, exploring different worlds with your brother meant you got to experience a whole lot of different things, dragons were no exception. They differed in different worlds, some violent, some passive, some young and naive some old and wise, but one thing that tended to stay the same was that their appetite was a meaty one and when you glanced down at Viator, you decided to take a cautious step for your furry companion.

“Paimon, stay here with Viator” Opening up your staff, you hopped off your animal and flew in the direction of the forest. Your friend called after you, voice high with panic as she begged you to come back, but you weren’t listening, no, you were focused on keeping the people close to you safe, even if that meant fighting a dragon, which you knew for certain you weren’t ready for.

The forest was practically silent compared to the valley. The sound of life that played within the sun had dimmed with the looming trees of oak, muffling the wind that blew through the perfect path that had been carved through the nature with perfect precision, it’s goal on leading to Mondstadt clear with each tentative step you took that lead to where you had seen the great beast land.

‘I wish I had my sword’ Such words shouldn’t come to a nomad, you knew that to be true, but you had lived through battle after battle with your brother for so long, the weight of the blade, the leather of it’s handle, it had been burned into the skin of your hand many times ago. Guilt boiled within you during your years with the nuns, how could you think of fighting while surrounded by such peaceful people? But then again, you could take a warrior from war, but not war from a warrior.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s alright now, I’m back”

You pushed your back against the nearest tree, glancing around it’s wide trunk at the scene.

The dragon was great, indeed. Coloured in an array of blues, from aquatic to deep ocean, feathers and furs adorned it’s body, tipping the tail, decorating it’s wings, lining it’s belly but ended at it’s claws, replaced with silvery scales that reflected the light of the day. From it’s back, however, protruded two tainted purple crystals, that you could sense, all the way from your hidden spot, held nothing but a dark energy that made your skin crawl. The creature’s sheer size was intimidating enough, especially compared to the boy who stood before it, but those crystals- wait.

Only then did you finally notice, too focused on the dragon to see the small male who held his hands out towards it. Sure, you had heard the voice earlier, but the blue beast’s appearance had overshadowed it, though now, you saw him, clear as day and your thoughts screamed about how such a small, fragile looking human could stand tall before such an intimidating animal-

A shout echoed through the forest, a familiar high shout that made you groan inwardly when the dragon let out an ear piercing shriek, swiping towards the boy only for him to jump back to your relief, snapping his head towards you direction, then disappear in a flashing light, the dragon leaving along with him into the sky with a final roar for extra effect.

You glared back at Paimon, panicked stricken face frozen in terror atop Viator’s head, who had tucked into himself at the appearance of the other animal.

“Really, Paimon?!” Running over, you soothed your bison softly “I told you to stay put! What if that dragon attacked?!”

“Paimon- uh- Paimon….” The spirit stumbled over her words for a few moments, when she noticed something within the short distance of where the dragon had been perched “What’s that?”

On closer inspection, it appeared to be a floating crystal, shaped eerily similar to a teardrop which glowed a crimson red, screaming an aura of negativity and…

“Sorrow” You hesitated when you reached out, but ultimately grasped it between your fingers gently “You can feel it right? That sorrow from it?”

“Yeah, almost like spiritual energy but just...sad, really sad” Frowning, Paimon turned towards you “Paimon feels kinda sad now too”

“Yeah, me too”

A cloth emerged from your pocket with a tug, the crimson glow disappearing under the raggedy brown of the material as you wrapped it carefully before stuffing it a bag on Viator’s back.

“Take care of this, will you bud?”

The animal groaned.

“Thanks”

Hopping down, you grasped Viator’s reins and continued down the dirt path.

“So, Mondstadt?”

It didn’t take long to reach the end of the woodland’s winding path. The once dense forestry parting way to a clear road to that great city that stood proud a few acres away, towering cliffs decorating your left for quite a way while to your right laid the beautiful crystal blue waves of what Paimon called Lake Cider.

A strange name, you had to admit, but your spirit friend’s explanation of the city’s famous winery industry only seemed to make it fit.

“-If we ask around, we’ll find some information! Oh, this city is famous for bards! So we can definitely-”

“Hey, you! Stop right there!”

Another threat?

Caution was thrown into the wind and you raced into action, pulling forth your staff in a defensive stance and ready to protect your companions with every last inch of you. Viator seemed to feel the same, as his large frame grew closer to you, towering in size with a guttural growl that even shook you slightly, bearing giant teeth.

Paimon merely fell behind, cowering away nervously.

‘Wow, thanks a lot Pai-’

A figure flew overhead, leaping off one of the shorter cliff sides and descending down to the dirt before you, rolling for safety then bouncing back up on their feet.

Long, dark brown hair, lively golden eyes, fair skin and covered head to toe in red.

Fire nation perhaps? Nun Tsering did say that descendants were fond of the colour.

“May the Anemo archon protect your stanger-...” She started, face kind but guarded until she fell upon your sash and bison “Ah! You’re an Air nomad! I am so sorry!”

Then she bowed, deep and apologetic and you sent Paimon a side eyed glance when she floated back to your side.

“Mondstadt is the city of wind and considered air nation territory” She whispered, “Monks and Nuns are highly respected, well, everywhere, but much higher here. You’re basically considered royalty”

You nodded in understanding before approaching the girl “Hey, it’s okay! It was an honest mistake! What’s your name? Mine’s (Name). This is my spirit guide, Paimon and my bison, Viator”

The younger woman bounced back up, narrowingly missing your head with her own while she stumbled over herself, finally findinger her words as she saluted (?) towards you all, forming a fist on her chest then being thrown outside, hand flattening by her side “Yes, of course! I am Amber, Outrider for the Knights of Favonius. I would like to personally welcome you to Mondstadt, dear Nun and once again apologise for my rude approach”

“Like I said, it was just a mistake!” Laughing, you bowed “It’s nice to meet you, Amber”

Amber paused for a moment, eyes wide then bowed in return “Likewise, Nun (Name)”

“You don’t need to call me that! I’m only a...nun-in-training, really, so, (Name) is just fine”

“Are you sure? It seems impolite to call you that, even if you’re only in training!”

From the sidelines, Paimon smiled.

The spirit had been informed by Nun Tsering of your inner conflict when you had first stumbled into this world. How hard it had been to open up, how you had struggled to interact with the others nuns, always so closed off and scared, the festering feeling of abandonment brewing a deep rooted fear of interaction, lest any person you may come across would be the next to leave you in the dust, by their own will or not.

When Paimon had first arrived, you had still struggled with that fear, even now if was still visible, if you looked close enough, but she knew she didn’t have to worry as much now, you were doing so much better and seeing you grow more confident made pride bloom in her chest, where her heart would be if she were human.

“Please-” Amber gestured over to Mondstadt, “Allow me to escort you to our city”

“Are you sure? If you’re a knight, you’re probably out here for a reason and I don’t want to get in the way of that”

“Not to worry, my duties have been fulfilled for today, so taking you to Mondstadt wouldn’t be much trouble”

With a smile, you nodded and off your little group ventured.

The walk to the city wasn’t long, no, only 5 minutes at least, filled with friendly chit chatter between you, Amber and Paimon, your bison huffing for your attention like he usually loved to do when your focus shifted. The knight looked ecstatic when you offered her a ride some time, bouncing up and down excitedly then engulfing the beast in a hug.

You liked her attitude, her excitement. It reminded you of simpler times and on a more somber note, of Aether. He always was kinda like the sun, even when you two bickered like normal siblings did, he kept on that lightened aura that just kept you from staying mad at him, a smile surfacing on your face while he cheered in accomplishment, a small tease of ‘You know you love me!’ before you smacked him right around the head and your famous fist fights ensued, the ones you always won.

You missed your squabbles, you his light, you missed him, but you had to remind yourself that this was the start of your journey to finding your brother and you would be reunited one day.

The guards bowed when you finally entered the city, as did the seemingly grumpy blacksmith you passed, the flower girl, the adventure guild receptionist, the jeweller- everyone and you did the polite thing of bowing back.

“You’re attracting quite the crowd already!” Amber laughed, the many citizens watching your group with wide gazes “It’s only natural though, I’m sure Paimon’s already told you that Nun and Monks are regarded highly in the city of wind!”

“Yup! Paimon made sure it was the first thing she knew!” You were positive the spirit ignored your stink eye, “So, who do we speak with about missing person posters?”

“Well, it’s best to speak with Master Jean, if you come with me I’ll show you the way! Here, I’ll give you a little tour around too!”

“That sounds great!” You glanced back to Viator, who stood patiently beyond the gates and watched you with soft eyes. “Stay here, bud! I’ll come back soon- and with some hay!”

The great beast groaned, waddling off somewhere beyond the gate and leaving the three of you to wander deeper into the city.

With each step you took, you felt as though you were being watched with the familiar sensation of eyes pinpointed onto you, though, it seemed... unwelcoming, their stare burning holes into your form. For a moment you glanced around, Amber and Paimon too distracted with talking to notice your focus shift. It didn’t take long to find the perpetrator, a man with long red locks, a few yards away, glaring at you with arms crossed.

You noted to yourself to look for the man later.

“Hey, isn’t that Barbatos?” Gaze shifting once again, your look upon the grande statue before Mondstadt’s church, a figure akin to an angel with long robes, wings and hands out, cupped towards the sky “You know, Paimon remembers him wearing less clothes”

The knight shared a disturbed look with you.

You didn’t really need that mental image.

“The headquarters is right over here-”

There was an instant shift in the air. 

The sky darkened with malicious grey clouds, hiding away the bright summer’s sun and replacing it with only a layer of doom, the wind picking up harsher undertones.

“The sky…”

There it was again. 

The dragon from the Whispering Woods.

It raced towards the city, circling it’s borders ominously while growling a thunderous and threatening growl before erupting into a blood curdling screech, the noise bringing forth a miniature cyclone along with powerful tornadoes. 

The people of the city screamed in fear, rushing around to escape the attack, parents crying for children, knights ordering for citizens to take cover, animals yowling out their own grievances, utter chaos reigned and you felt panic at the thought of Viator alone, waiting for you patiently where you left him.

“I have to go get Viator!” You were already sprinting back to the gates “I can’t leave him alone like this!”

Amber raced after you.

How had this happened so fast? And why when you had just arrived? What was going!? Only moments ago you were touring the city towards the Knights of Favonius headquarters and now this!

“Paimon thinks that the tornado is getting too close!” She was right, it was practically on your heels! “Hurry! Or we’ll get caught up!”

If only it had been that easy.

Amber had tried, you had seen her panic as you felt the pull of the powerful wind current begin to drag you closer, she had reached out, grabbing your staff with strength only adrenaline could cause, trying hard to keep you grounded but you could see it was for naught, as her feet slipped against the stone and the fear she would also get sucked in plagued you.

You made a rash, last minute decision.

“Get Viator!” Her eyes met yours “And take care of my staff!”

You let go and watched her horrified face as you were sucked into the winding wind.

It was terrifying, you had no idea what way was up and what way was down, left was right and right was left. Paimon was screaming, something you couldn’t hear in your throat crushing fear, curled into a ball and eyes shut tightly, hoping for it to end soon. If only you had your wings, if only Aether was here, if only...

“Ravaa” Your own whimpering could not be heard beyond the screaming of the wind, but you begged that the spirit still heard you. “Please, I’m scared”

A beat passed.

The wind still roared.

Another beat passed.

The screams of citizens still echoed through Mondstadt.

Then another.

And your eyes snapped open, glowing a brilliant white.

[grumpyhedgehogs]

Compartmentalization

Ada Wong tries to keep her work as a mercenary far fro her private life--and very, very far away from her secret girlfriend, Claire Redfield. Her clients don't know about Claire, Claire doesn't know about her clients, and Ada likes it that way.

Raccoon City blows that all to hell.

Or: Resident evil 2 if Ada and Claire were girlfriends before the game started.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, guns, blood, death, spoilers.

AO3.

~

“You,” Ada tells the zombie lurching after her, “are ruining my date.”

The zombie gurgles on its own blood and Ada dispatches it with minimal disgusted grunting. To be fair, he isn’t actually interrupting her date--that honor goes to the mission as a whole. Damn it, but she’d promised she’d take Claire out on a road trip to celebrate her finishing her final exams this year. Well, Ada would let Claire take her on a road trip, because Ada Wong did not do long sweaty hours stuck in a car in traffic with nothing to do. Long sweaty hours stuck to Claire on the back of her girlfriend’s bike? Now that Ada could do.

But she isn’t doing that, and it is entirely her client’s fault. “ Capitalism ,” Ada spits, echoing Claire’s voice in her head. Against her better judgement, she feels the corners of her mouth lift. Smiling about a girl even when she’s alone? God, she’s hopeless. “Get a grip , Wong. That sample has to be around here somewhere.”

~

“You’re FBI?”

“Yes,” Ada snaps testily, folding her fake badge up and slipping it back into her coat pocket. “And you're interrupting a private investigation.”

The cop frowns, eyes darting to the dog’s body on the concrete two feet from his face and the blood spatters on the walls. Any second now, another dead body might smash its way through another wall and be upon them. His thoughts are written clear across his face-- there’s a few better things for them to worry about than an investigation.

The guy is a rookie, through and through. His face is open and unlined. While he’s healthy and unscathed, he’s also obviously awkward in such a life-threatening situation. He’s never done this before, never brushed with death on the daily. He looks like a kicked puppy. Ada’s almost tempted to put him down right here and now, just to save him the pain and herself the trouble.

Claire would be pissed if she ever found out. Not that she would, but still. She’d want to know the cop’s name and where he’s from and how he got here. Claire would want to help him.

(Claire was never supposed to factor into Ada’s decision making. She was supposed to be a fling, someone to take the edge off and help Ada destress a little between missions. She wasn’t supposed to wriggle her way into Ada’s head, wasn’t supposed to slip through the chinks of Ada’s armor, and yet, here Claire is. She's with Ada without even being present. Claire is somehow essential for Ada to continue living. Love, Ada thinks, is a bitch .)

“Right,” Ada grumbles, and pulls her sunglasses off. He seems more comfortable when he can see her eyes, even if Ada rolls them as he releases the tension from his shoulders. “We’d better work together here.”

~

“This isn’t a game!” Ada snaps. Leon bristles but subsides.

“I know, alright? There were so many more of us--survivors--before, and now…”

His eyes are far away and Ada snorts. “Don’t worry, Rookie, I’m sure whatever little girlfriend you have got the hell out of town. Which is what you should be doing.”

His mouth falls open but he doesn’t look like he’s on the brink of tears anymore, so Ada considers it a win. Hysterics are the last thing she needs right now. No, what Ada needs right now is a goddamn breakthrough with this mission if she wants to go home in one piece. “She’s not my--”

“Yeah, yeah, save it. You know that’s twice I’ve saved your ass now?”

“I didn’t realize you were keeping score.”

~

“We need to terminate her before she turns.”

The words taste like ash in her mouth. Leon shifts anxiously beside her. Ada feels bile rise in her throat. She used to be able to hold her gun up without her trigger finger trembling.

(What would Ada do if it were the one person she cares about half-dead and turning?)

“Ada...Leave them be,” Leon murmurs.

She lowers the gun and resolutely does not think about Claire's skin going grey.

~

If she gets out of this, Ada Wong is going to absolutely tear her client apart for sending her into this mess. No sample is worth listening to Leon drone on about all the people he’s worried about.

“What about you?” Leon looks up from rummaging through a safe box for ammunition. Ada hums, tapping at the keyboard in front of her. They seem to be just above the Umbrella building she needs to get into; if they call the tram, they should be down there in just a few minutes. “Do you have anyone you’re here for?”

“No.” Thank God. Claire is still back on the coast, waiting in her dorm room for Ada to come back from her “last minute work trip.” She’d promised Ada she would wait for her to come back before starting her road trip, so they could go together. Ada’s been hoping to get some of her own research done before she gets back to Claire anyway; something about Claire’s brother disappearing into radio silence in this very city rubs her very much the wrong way. Claire could be walking straight into a trap. So yeah, maybe there was an ulterior motive for Ada taking this mission, if only to scout ahead and save her girlfriend the trouble of getting herself killed by the dead.

Good thing she has Ada to look after her.

“Oh. Well, that’s good, I guess. No family? Friends?”

“I’m here for the mission, Leon.”

Ada’d almost left him for dead many times; what good would he do her? Leon’s been an unexpected boon in the city, but he’ll run out of usefulness eventually. They all do. (But Claire would like him. He’s got the same fire. Ada settles for muttering darkly to herself about how soft she’s becoming for one redhead with a temper.)

“Yeah,” he concedes glumly. Damn it, it looks like the tram is manually operated; they’ll have to get down to the platform to power it up; Ada can’t call it to them from here. She’s so busy fuming she almost misses his next comment. “Still, there are innocent people in this city who are going to need our help to get out of this mess. Like the girl I came here with. I hope she’s found her brother…”

What? No.  

No, it can’t be. There are so many people living--or undead, now--in Raccoon City. Claire is at college, a million miles away, and she’s smart. She wouldn’t come out to the middle of nowhere in the Midwest in the middle of the night after Ada asked her not to. She’s safe.

(She’s safe. She has to stay safe, because Claire is just about the only thing Ada has that isn’t part of her cover. She’s Ada’s . Ada’s to love, Ada’s to spoil, Ada’s to annoy, Ada’s to protect. She’s got to be safe.)

(But that doesn’t stop Ada’s blood from running cold. How many missing brothers can Raccoon City boast?)

~

Leon passes out from his wounds. The Claire voice in the back of her head won’t let Ada leave him to die; her stomach curdles at the thought of Claire finding out what she’s done, how ruthless Ada can really be. So Ada gives him her coat and resolves not to let herself think about how soft she’s getting until she’s curled up in the apartment no one but Claire knows about with a certain pretty redhead under her arm.

Ada ends up with a shard of scrap metal through her leg for going to the trouble of helping Leon.

Typical.

~

The rookie, to his credit, does come to save her. His face screws up when she gets up to limp her way to the tram with him but Ada shakes off his desperate attempts to help. She’s tired of this: she’s tired of being dirty and grimy, she’s tired of gunshots and blood spatter, she’s tired of not finishing her mission on time, and she’s tired of worrying about what Claire must be thinking right about now.

Claire isn’t even here!

(She’s tired of ignoring the increasingly loud thought that if Claire weren’t safe Ada would lose her mind.)

The tram is grey and drab and the most comfortable, safest place she’s been in since coming to this godforsaken city. Ada slumps gratefully into her seat and lets Leon fuss at her on the ride down. Her leg aches, pain radiating up the base of her spine and pulsing at the back of her skull. (What if the wound is infected-- )

Leon is still so young, a puppy dog through and through. It’s too easy to convince him to bring her the virus with a kiss.

(Thank God Claire isn’t here.)

(Her handler told her there’s another way to get the G-Virus if Leon can’t do the work for her, but even for Ada it’s distasteful. Sherry Birkin is as old as Emma was, and if she couldn’t pull the trigger when Emma was clearly dying, could she trust herself to do it when faced with a perfectly healthy little girl?)

~

Leon pulls a gun on her. Fantastic. Will this mission ever fucking end?

“Leon, please! We don’t have a lot of time--”

“As much as I wanted to trust you,” Leon snaps, scowling, “I didn’t.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Ada mutters to herself. Leon’s eyes don’t widen when her gun raises to match his. The facility shakes around them and the walkway rumbles beneath their feet. Ada curses whatever possessed her to wear heels tonight.

“Hey!” A voice that sends ice through her veins shouts from behind the man Ada has lined up in her sights. Leon’s shoulders are too broad to glimpse around, but she must have heard wrong, it can’t be--

“Whoever you are, you’d better get moving, this place is about to blow!”

Not taking his eyes off of her, Leon turns his head. “Claire?”

“Wha--Leon?”

“ No. ” Ada whispers, numb.

“Claire, get out of here!”

Claire is here. Claire didn’t listen to her. Claire came to Raccoon City to find her brother. Claire isn’t safe. Claire is coming up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Leon, eyes wide and darting between the two of them.

Claire sees Ada.

“Ada?” Claire jolts forward before curling a hand around Leon’s uninjured shoulder. “Leon, don’t hurt her! I know her--”

“No you don’t.” Leon says. Something deep in Ada’s core is shivering. Her throat has locked up, the muscles there spasming. Her mind is blank. How can this be happening? Claire isn’t supposed to be here. She isn’t supposed to see Ada like this. She isn’t supposed to know . “You may think you know her, Claire, but she’s a liar. I bet you think she’s FBI, huh?”

“I…” There’s a clang and a small, childish squeak and Claire whirls around, throwing out her hand. Behind her, a blonde girl Ada only saw in photographs before dropping into the city huddles on the nearest platform. “S-stay back! We’ll--let us just sort this out and then we’ll get out of here.”

Of course. Claire wouldn’t have left without trying to save a kid. This stupid, reckless, noble woman. (Ada loves her so , so much, so much that it makes her sick.)

“She isn’t FBI.” Leon spits, his eyes sparking. Ada sneers at him as best she can while her world turns upside down. Her feet are frozen to the floor even as it rolls beneath them. “She’s a mercenary and a liar. She tried to trick me into giving her the G-Virus so she can sell it to the top bidder.”

“No, no, you’re--you’ve got to be wrong.” Claire turns and her eyes are so green and wide and Ada can feel her heart cracking in her chest. “Ada, tell him he’s wrong. You’re not--you’re here to help, right? You’re here to help me.”

“Yes,” Ada says, but it scraps at the lining of her throat on the way up, comes out mangled and false. She’s never been this bad a liar before. But she’s got to keep trying; she’s hanging onto a ledge by her fingertips and if Claire turns from her, if she goes away, Ada will have nothing left to hold on to. Nothing matters now, not the G-Virus or Leon and his gun or the mission or the city set to explode around them. Nothing matters but Claire’s green eyes staring uncertainly into her own. ”Yes, that's right, Claire. I--I had to cut work short and I was worried you’d gone ahead to Raccoon City without me--”

“That’s a lie! Claire, she’s never once mentioned you. She’s only been lying to you. She wasn’t on a work trip before she got here, she came here for the virus and nothing else. Did you tell Claire you were FBI too, Ada? Or did you save that one for me?”

“Claire, who are you going to believe?” Ada asks, desperation clawing at her veins. But Claire’s gaze has shifted to the blood drops Ada can feel flaking against the skin of her cheeks and chest, to the gun in her hands she’s holding too steadily not to be trained in firearms. Claire’s always been too smart for her own good. “Your girlfriend or some rookie cop who’s in too far over his head and snapped under the pressure?”

“Sure didn’t seem like you had a girlfriend when you kissed me.”

“Shut up!”

She can’t be losing her cool like this. It’s dangerous, and while Ada likes danger, it’s also stupid. An amatuer move. How has she fallen this far?

Claire reels back a step. “Wh--what?”

“It’s not what you think,” Ada switches tactics. Denial isn’t working. But if she can twist this back around on Leon, maybe Claire will listen to her long enough for Ada to get them out of here. She can call her extraction team and, provided she’s snagged the virus off of either Leon or Sherry, hold it for ransom so they’ll let her take Claire to safety too. She’s in a rush, though, and getting sloppier by the second. In moments they won’t have a walkway to stand on as the NEST tumbles down around them. “I just needed to get to you as fast as possible. I’d do anything for you Claire.” (She really, really would.) “Let’s--let’s just take Sherry and go. Leon can keep the virus, I only wanted to make sure it was destroyed to protect you, but he can keep it if I know you’re with me and safe. Come on, get Sherry and we can leave.”

She knows as soon as she stops talking, breath bated, that she’s said the wrong thing. Claire takes tone, two, three slow steps back. “I never told you Sherry’s name.” Claire says quietly.

Leon speaks then, chiming in with more incrimination and defamation and any other accusation he can hurl at Ada, but it doesn’t matter. Ada can see the light that’s gone out of Claire’s eyes, can see the poison spreading through her mind like black veins. She’s adding up the late nights, the strange bruises, the way Ada is squirrely about work, all the times she’s used kisses and sex as distraction on Claire before. Damn Kennedy and his big mouth. Ada never should have saved him.

The three of them waver there on the precipice. Ada’s gun does not lower and neither does Leon’s. Claire doesn’t blink, her eyes never leaving Ada's, her face crumpled and confused and war-torn. Ada stares back, holding her gaze as if through sheer force of will she can make all of this stop happening, as if she could smooth this all over if she just keeps looking into Claire's eyes. For a second, no one moves, no one speaks.

The NEST makes their choice for them, though, as it crumbles, blocks of concrete crashing into their walkway and the platforms beyond. Sherry screams. Claire is thrown against the railing and Ada’s gun spirals out of her hands as the metal below her begins to give way. Ada almost screams herself when the floor really does disappear and her feet meet open air. Only Leon’s quick reflexes stop her from falling.

Her heart breaks open, a hot wave of something too strong to be sadness and too sweet to be defeat when Claire stumbles away. The redhead looks back once, a long, lingering look that Ada feels all the way down to her bones. Claire hesitates; Ada sees her shifting on the balls of her feet, moving to take a single step back towards where Ada dangles from Leon's fingertips. For the first time in a long time, Ada isn't sure of what Claire is thinking.

Sherry screams again. Claire's mouth opens and even though Ada can't hear over shrieking metal and growing fires, the sob Claire lets out shakes her to her core. Then Claire bundles the little girl into her arms and turns from her.

Ada looks up at Leon, who sweats and shakes and holds onto her for dear life not even a second after threatening to kill her.

“Take care of Claire for me,” Ada tells him, and lets go.

~

Later, holding on to the rope ladder swinging from the extraction helicopter her client sent for her, Ada wonders how long she’ll have to wait before she meets Claire Redfield again. If Ada has it her way, it won’t be long.

[apocalypsewriters]

The Aftermath of Brownies

A/N: I would recommend reading this post first, since it inspired me to rewrite this piece, but if you don't, here's the breakdown.

Victor-Hecate had trouble sleeping due to being touch starved because of their powers for six years, so their queerplatontic partner, Tora, baked lactose free brownies with him and watched a movie together until VH fell asleep

Also! A million thanks to my amazing friend @pagesofcursive for editing and inspiring this piece.

Warnings: brief mention of death (because it's Tae, and they can't be there without it) and let me know if there's anything I missed

Summary: Victor-Hecate can feel people's death when he touches people, but their partner, Tora doesn't affect them as much in short term. What happens when they fall asleep on her?

Tora finished the movie alone, brownie stuck in her teeth, leg numb underneath her, a sleeping person on her shoulder, and a hand tangled in her own. She groaned softly, extracting her leg and stretching it out in front of her. Victor-Hecate, or, as she typically called them, Vaytch, had fallen asleep with twenty-five minutes left in the movie and was now drooling a little onto Tora's pajama shirt. She didn't mind. It was worth it to make sure he got sleep, something he struggled with often but was working to fix. Starving herself of physical contact for six years had taken a toll on Vaytch, leaving them jittery, stressed, and exhausted from sleepless nights. Tora often snuck up on them playfully to make both of them laugh, but sometimes they startled even when that wasn't Tora's intention.

With a sigh, she flicked off the TV, tossing the remote remorselessly onto the table with a clatter that echoed around the house. Gently, after laying eyes on Vaytch's softly snoring form and making her typical split-second decisions, Tora lifted them off her shoulder and deposited their head into her lap. Her curls tickled her legs, clad in pajama shorts. Tora sprung a ringlet or two around her finger before gazing mournfully at a book at the other arm of the couch. Wonder was a book heavily recommended (read: forced) to her by the other two of her dynamic trio- her partner, Vaytch, and Lynn. Her fingers tapped frantic rhythms on the couch for what felt like half an hour but must have only been a few moments before that distraction wasn't enough. She twisted a strand of her cropped hair over and over, tugging at it until that patch of her scalp held a dull ache. Tora drew in the short fur of the couch, keeping her movements small to ensure Vaytch wouldn't be disturbed. She needed sleep. Desperately. Tora couldn't afford to wake them. But her mind skittered around, frustration building at being trapped, even if by her own means and an adorable cage. Still, she couldn't move. She wouldn't move. She shouldn't move for selfish reasons. 

However, glancing at the clock to see only seven minutes had passed since the end of the movie, she gave up. Leaning and stretching, trying and failing not to shift the sleeping head in her lap, she snagged the book. Triumphantly, Tora returned to her spot on the couch, only to find Vaytch's head lolling off of it at an extremely uncomfortable angle. They didn’t stir. Strange. Maybe he was more tired than she thought. Mentally shrugging, she gingerly lifted their head back into her lap, smoothing some stray curls back into place. She stroked their cheek apologetically, barely feeling his breath on her hand. 

Wait. 

Freezing in place, Tora pricked up her ears, trying to hear her partner’s snoring. It was generally pretty consistent, she’d learned from her own sleepless nights spent with them, but now there was eerie silence. Cold panic shot through her. What was going on? The fuzz of the couch made quiet, vague ripping noises as she dragged her fingers in short bursts rapidly along it. Critical information tickled the back of her brain. Tora always forgot the important things when they were necessary. Desperately, she tried to pursue the swiftly fading memory as it slipped from her fingers like water through a sieve.

To shake the unease resting like a dead weight in her chest, Tora picked up her book again with a small grimace, hoping that by distracting herself, the wild thought would return from the overgrown, chaotic mass of her mind and come into clarity. Absently, she appreciated the weight in her lap, pushing her fingers through ringlets. Vaytch never stayed this long on her, generally taking breaks now and then. It was a nice change. Tora sighed and laid back, soaking in her presence, his warmth, simply enjoying their company. She was so glad they had found each other, that Vaytch could touch another person without hurting. Numb was better than hurt in Tora's experience. It truly was lucky that Tora just made her numb; nothing bad came from it. She paused in her rippling through of book pages - the sound was nice - as a revelation struck. 

Vaytch had never spent this much time on her because periodically they pushed away. She pushed away from Tora's touch, saying they needed to take a break. They took time to recuperate, saying he felt lightheaded after too long, that the emptiness echoed in her bones. How long was too long? The question shook Tora as she frantically wracked her brain again. Twenty minutes? Her eyes darted around the room, checking for the time. 

It had been sixteen minutes since she last checked the clock. Spending precious time slipping up with the simple addition, she finally figured it had been about ten minutes short of an hour since Vaytch fell asleep. Easily over an hour since they took a break. 

She gripped their wrist, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. Wait, wait... there! Vaytch's pulse was still there, albeit agonizingly slow. 

Tora extricated herself from underneath the sleeping form, simultaneously trying to get out as fast as possible while still being delicate with Vaytch. She slid onto the floor while tossing the book away, catching herself with a hand on the cold floor. Was Vaytch's arm at an odd angle? Hesitantly, Tora adjusted it, keeping her hand away from bare skin. Now it looked worse, and she let out a curse. Tora desperately pulled Vaytch's arm out, letting it flop down and bounce against the side of the couch. She bit back a scream of frustration. Holding only the long sleeve so as to not touch Vaytch's skin, Tora lifted his arm and tucked it into his side, her fingertips briefly brushing the back of their hand. She flinched away immediately, wincing as her movement roughly jostled their seemingly peaceful form.

Switching from biting the inside of her cheek to her lip, Tora sat crisscrossed in front of the couch. Seconds crawled by as aches grew on her hunched back and furrowed brows. "Vaytch." Her voice was soft, scratchy from lack of use. Her throat rasped as she coughed to clear it. "Vaytch." Tora cringed at the desperation in her voice. Forgetting the more extreme movements that had yielded no result, Tora gently shook their shoulder, willing for them to wake up, to open his eyes and spite her fading hope. "You have to wake up now. This really isn't funny." Tears sprung to her eyes, and she raised her voice to combat the sob building in her throat. She was almost shouting, "Tae, you're not touching me anymore," Tora almost shouted. "You're fine. If you're not fine, Vi will kill me." She laughed weakly, incredulously at the situation she put Vaytch in. It was Tora's fault she was passed out, not waking up, heartbeat slow, too still to be considered normal. "Your brother probably would too." This was all Tora's fault. How could she let this happen? She ran her fingers hard through her hair, leaving her scalp stinging. "Ple-ase," Tora begged. She gripped her own arm tightly but could barely feel it. "You can't leave me. You were just starting to- to get better. I was never supposed to hurt you. Why-" She bit back a sob. How awful would it be for Vaytch if he woke up, probably in pain, to see Tora crying pathetically on the floor?

Itching for something to do as panic still clawed at her, Tora heaved herself to her feet. Shaking her legs awake, she walked a lap around the coffee table. She washed and dried the brownie pan - taking longer than she should as she got sidetracked filling up the dish soap, then the hand soap in the kitchen and bathroom - before returning to sit in front of her partner.

After switching her seated position three times, she finally settled. Somewhat. Rocking side to side slightly, her thumb and pinky vibrated back and forth on her knee. It had been - Tora glanced at the clock - eight minutes since she'd stepped away. The beautiful sound of Vaytch's snoring had begun to return, which was music to Tora's ears. "Vaytch," she whispered to herself. She strangled the urge to stroke their cheek comfortingly, worrying it would halt their recovery. "Vaytch, please." Tora was louder this time as she zeroed in on his sleeping form, willing her to wake up. 

Miraculously, after two more painfully slow minutes of Tora's constant shifting, Vaytch's eyelids flickered. Tora leaned forward in anticipation, almost falling on top of them but catching herself just in time. She released a huff of air, not realizing she'd been holding her breath. Tora swayed, lightheaded, and threw her hand out to stabilize herself, rattling the coffee table in the process. The sound reverberated around the room as she cringed, her chin tilted down.

"Babe?" 

Tora's head snapped up, almost giving herself whiplash. Vaytch's eyelids were still semi-stuck together as they blearily tried to focus on her. "Thank goodness you're awake!" The words came out in a louder than intended, slurred together rush.

His expression was baffled, a fold in the sofa imprinted on their cheek. "What?"

"Well, you weren't waking up, and I was so worried, and I called your name, and you were still asleep, and it's all my fault and-"

Vaytch reached out and stilled Tora's wildly gesturing hands, propping themself up on an elbow. Their eyebrows were pushed together in such a way that Tora wished she could push them apart, the way she always did when they were stressed. "What are you talking about? Are you okay?"

Tora gulped and fruitlessly tried to gather her thoughts together in a coherent way. "I'm fine now," she said, her voice full of relief. "You just fell asleep on top of me, and you lay there for too long so you weren't snoring anymore, and your heartbeat was slow, and you didn't react when I shook you, and then I remembered that you'd never stayed on me that long 'cause you said even numb would get too much, so I was really worried, but then-" Tora broke off, finally taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Then you finally woke up. Are you feeling okay??" she asked, offering Vaytch a hopefully comforting smile.

"Now that you mention it, I am kind of sore," Vaytch said. "Almost like everything fell asleep." Wrinkling her nose adorably, they released Tora's hands and sat up, rubbing their legs. He held out a hand and, once Tora accepted it, pulled her onto the couch beside her and placed the clasped hands between them. They rubbed the back of her hand with a thumb comfortingly. "It's very sweet that you were worried about me. But I'm okay now. Really," they said reassuringly in response to Tora's disbelieving expression. "I've been through worse, so it'll be fine. Seriously," they said with a snort, "you should have seen what happened when I met Juni and Bella."

Tora chuckled weakly as she remembered hearing about that. Sensing Tora's skepticism at their well-being, Vaytch held out her arms. Not needing another invitation, Tora launched herself into their embrace, knocking him backward, taking care to avoid any skin-to-skin contact. Vaytch squeaked as she squeezed. Tora felt overcome with gratefulness that he was still there to hug her back. She smiled into their shoulder, finally relaxed after half an hour of worry. Vaytch was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

[f-117-nighthawk]

Playlist Update? From MY Brain? More Likely Than You Think

can't remember the last time I posted these all together but I just put a few new songs in. I've been playing Arknights bc STARSET songs keep being used in the trailers, and then I was listening to Transmissions while making dinner, and uhhhhh there's two new Transmissions songs on the playlists, plus whatever else the spotify links needed to update to my ever-changing apple versions.

This is just the main playlist, because this one is now 3h 40m, and the other three playlists are about an hour each. I’ll give them their own post tomorrow. Under the cut, because it's also Write Random Snippits and Include Important Lyrics time

Dark Matter

Surprise surprise, this one’s got probably the most work done on it. A lot of that is moving things around, a few deletions, and the additions.

DM now starts with Your World Will Fail, Dark Matter, and Eater of Worlds. Turn the Lights Out still kinda applies, but I stopped vibing with it starting everything, and wasn’t really sure where else it should go so it got dropped. It’s role is sort of picked up by a UtA song later? Anyway, the opening three are still very much about not only the birth of [REDACTED], but the birth of the universe itself. And that’s why it feels better to start out with YWWF. Because it is the start.

(Your world will fail my love/It’s far beyond repair/Your world will fail my love/It is already there)

(Bring me your soul/Bring me your hate/In my name you will create/Bring me your fear/Bring me your pain/You will destroy in my name)

(Can’t imagine the violence/The rage and the love in my madness/I am the eater of worlds and I’m looking for someone to feed me)

Remnants of Stars is a hook to Filaments at this point, but stays way up here because the thing it’s about connects back up to those three ^ and is something slowly realized by the Paladins throughout the series. There’s kinda three different points that they realize something new about this (at the moment, I Am the One, Cosmic Vertigo, and Centigrade).

(Shed all you know and make way for a galaxy of light/Answers found hidden inside the smallest stone/Bringing forth a new way of life/Open your heart to the sky)

Apocalypse 1992 hasn’t changed. Still about The Fall, still the turning point for the entire damn war. Still about poor Krolia. Still the Rogue One of DM. It happens between parts of Awakenings, detailing the rise of [REDACTED] and the final hours before the destruction of everything sentient species knew beforehand.

(Fly high through apocalypse skies/Fight for the world we must save/Like tears of a unicorn lost in the rain/Chaos will triumph this day)

Apex is the final moments of Apocalypse 1992 from the Red Lion’s perspective, and connects nicely (just as in the albums lol) to the next UtA songs. Which we’ll get to in a bit.

(Brother mountain/Now we sleep/For a thousand years/I will see you again/Something is coming/Coming for me)

You Keep What You Kill covers the slow degeneration of the Empire between The Fall and the Battle of Arus. The knowledge harshly taught by the Thuanial War is forgotten under the influence of Zarkon, Haggar, and [REDACTED]. Marzin and Galraasa quickly rise the ranks as the Empire’s left and right hands, like omens of destruction before them. The four are the ‘holy half-dead,’ the ones who shape the devouring of the universe before them.

(Defying dimensions/These ruthless creatures will steal your soul/Breaking away from the chains of mortality/They won’t be taken down/Bow now to the holy half dead/The master to death mongers calls)

The Glory and the Scum is partially here bc I missed having Delain, I’ll freely admit that. (Delain split up! Like six months ago! I’m still sad!) Here, it’s (most) of the reason why Krolia isn’t around until MGHM. Think Winter Soldier-ish. It’s also from Krolia’s perspective as she’s talking to Kolivan in a conversation I implied in Shatterpoint. Perhaps it shall see the light of day.

(Look at what we've done/Take a step back/Shake your head at what we have become/We're the glory and the scum)

The Seven Sisters is about Keith, mostly, and connected to Closure via its influence on Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) and also to Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met. Also the thing about the Pleiades has kinda become A Thing associated with my two favorite halfbloods.

(I cast my hope upon The Pleiades/The Seven Sisters who would come for me/They’d fall to Earth to grant a child’s dream/But I’m still waiting)

Starlight is the Adashi song. Here, it’s the sad part, based around the time that the SFSS Genesis launches for Kerberos. It also is sort of about Shiro’s thoughts throughout the war as he watches ‘from distant skies’ (and influences String Theory kinda)

(At night the earth will rise/And I’ll think of you each time I watch from distant skies/Whenever stars go down and galaxies ignite/I’ll think of you each time they wash me in their light/And I’ll fall in love with you again)

Waking Dream and Abyss are Awakenings. They’re specifically the Red Lion waking up on Sendak’s ship to her new Paladin, but also sort of the rest of the Lions as they find new Paladins for the first time since The Fall (and, also, an accidental hook to the end of Filaments just by virtue of being on the same UtA album…)

(Centuries like flowing streams as years go rushing by/Waiting in the dark for afterlife)

(Open my eyes in a daze/How long has it been? Am I so out of place?/Warmth I can no longer feel/My mountain is gone, I’m surrounded by steel/The strangest of structures arises ahead/Seems to be held up by nothing/Where have I gone, do I dream?/How can the stars be all I can see?)

Who Will Save You Now is about the Paladins in First Contact. It’s the video messages they send to their families, the warning that Something Is Out Here that they need to prepare for. It’s a declaration of protection for Earth, but a recognition that the Paladins may not be able to do what they say.

(I will not take from you and you will not owe/I will protect you from the fire below/It’s not in my mind/It’s here at my side/Go tell the world that I’m still alive)

Then there’s The End of the Beginning. Which is, well, the eponymous fic. And don’t forget the String Theory connection! Fun fact: part of the last chapter leads directly into part of String Theory at the moment.

(Every night I die just a little/All this time, I’m caught in the middle/All your life, you fought with no winning/This is just the end of the beginning)

A Simple Plan is about anything but a simple plan. Lotor is making his secret bid for the construction of the Sinkline ships, but there’s one more thing he needs before it can come to fruition. Haggar has suspicions, and knows one thing that she needs to keep from both him and Voltron. Team Voltron is still struggling to fit into their new roles, especially with a Black Paladin who adamantly does not want to be Black Paladin, and is in desperate need of one thing to fix the last of the damage done during the Battle of the Sarnan Nebula.

(How long can we hold off ending?/How long can we pretend we’re ok?/No one goes on fighting it forever/I know I’m better this way)

Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met. Such a short song for such an important fic. It skips all the way over Naxzela to the Mission to the Baaria Shipyards, the first major offensive that isn’t somehow connected to canon (even if only a very very small part of it is actually at the shipyards lol). This is also the song that solidified Keith’s very queer identity in Dark Matter. And more Pleiades stuff!

(In this lonely place, bathed in silence and thoughts of you/I can’t see your face but I’m trying to envision you/So are you really out there? Are you awake with memories/Of a boy you haven’t met yet who’s wished upon the Pleiades?)

There’s another fic in here that I’m still waiting for a song to catch my ear, but it’s pretty big so I’m putting it in here. For the moment, it’s called MGHM 2.0: Electric Paladinloo. Featuring the Whispers, Voltron, and a few mullets.

And then. Hoh boy. The beast of beats. TRIALS (reimagine), Dark On Me, String Theory, and I Am the One. We’ve got [REDACTED], we’ve got [spoiler], we’ve got the first major turning point in the entire war, and the first revelation of the true nature of [REDACTED]. Hence the honor of being the separation point of my two main DM folders. TRIALS is the first part, the horrifying realization. Dark On Me and String Theory itself are from Shiro’s perspective. I Am the One is… an image song? I guess? That’s all I’ll say on that. (I would like to note that the STARSET songs bar OWtT tend to be about the Shiroganes…)

(Hear me from the bottom/Forged in regret, I'm the silversmith/Doomsday, you we had it coming/Marching the streets with an iron fist/Obey no more in silence/The steel in our hearts will be monuments/Today, they'll hear the violence/We'll rise from the dark like Lazarus)

(You're the cause/The antidote/The sinking ship that I could not let go/You led my way, then disappeared/How could you just walk away and leave me here?/Light the night up, you're my dark star/And now you're falling away)

(You don’t believe in space/You don’t believe in light/You don’t believe that anything is well beyond your might/We walk across the sky and beneath the ocean floor/We’re never going anywhere we’ve never been before)

(I am the one/I am the architect to rule your fate)

House on Fire is the aftermath of String Theory, and a large vibe of We ARE Struggling Together! It’s about family, never letting go of something you care about, and the slow act of trusting.

(So I’ll just hold you like a hand grenade/You touch me like a razor blade/I wish there was some other way right now/Like a house on fire we’re up in flames/I’d burn here if that’s what it takes/To let you know I won’t let go of you)

Belgrade is The klance song! It is a) a bop b) always stuck in my head because it is That Good. The line in the chorus about ‘sweet songs of seduction’ is eternally funny to me bc a)they’re both ace and b)QPR’s don’t usually involve seduction. Belgrade also leads almost directly into…

(We pretend in the darkness/We pretend the night won’t steal our youth/Singing me the sweet songs of seduction/Let me be the fool, fool, fool/Who will live and die for you)

Here to Save You is about Sam. Mostly. It’s also about Pidge. And Zaivorge cannons.

(A slave for humankind/I made sure I would survive/To stay alive/Now it’s time to move on/When there’s nothing left to prove/I’m coming to get you)

Iron is the third Closure fic (the second is End of the Beginning, forgot to mention that. They’ve slowly moved away from actually being related to it in anything but name and general idea). It’s about Keith coming to terms with parts of himself, and learning how to use them to great effect. Also has a huge info dump about the Blade.

(You can’t live without the fire/It’s the heat that makes you strong/‘Cause you’re born to live/And fight it all the way/You can’t hide what lies inside you/It’s the only thing you know/You’re embracing that, never walk away)

The second major turning point in the war is Monarch, Birthright, and Firewall. I really recommend reading the whole lyrics for Monarch, because the entire thing is very much a Lotor song. I had a bit of trouble picking a lyric to use here. Monarch is here because Lotor is also the ‘singer’ of Birthright, and both songs are to a very specific high-level target of the Coalition. Firewall is a little different as it’s a Team Voltron song not a Lotor song, but happens because of the same thing the other two do. They’re all not exactly a direct result of Iron, but they wouldn’t happen how they do without it, and then [REDACTED] swings back into the fray and things learned in String Theory/the framing story for Through Apocalypse Skies hit in full force.

(I am not the person you remember from before/The one you patronized and stepped on, the one you hurt/And I have pulled the arrows, now my skin has become stone/No longer am I prisoner to your empty fucking words)

(The voices in my head have all begun to sing/(The voices in your head have all begun to sing)/And they sure as hell hope I am listening/(I sure as hell hope you are listening!))

(They come to your dreams with illusion/They come to bring shape to your mind/You know how to stop the intrusion/We all have to fight for our lives)

and then, The Day the Earth Collapsed

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Here Comes the Reign doesn’t come into full effect until several months after Birthright/Firewall, but starts with The Day the Earth Collapsed. It’s largely about Haggar and [REDACTED]

(You made something they can’t take away/Now bring the fire of the burning sun on everyone)

Supersonic is here… kinda as a placeholder? Things have shifted around since its original purpose, and frankly it’s here still as a framework for what I like to call The Meme Battle. It’s generally about the increase in Coalition support and general winning as they go after warlords in the aftermath of Feyiv, culminating in I Need a Hero which is, of course, The Meme Battle.

Yes, it’s the Shrek version. It’s the Meme Battle.

(Supersonic, polyphonic, this is our war/Mustering the armies, marching faster than before)

(I need a hero/I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night/He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast/And he's gotta be fresh from the fight)

But Tonight We Dance isn’t exactly a klance song, but it’s here for them. On a diplomatic mission gone wrong, the Red and Blue Paladins of Voltron uncover a literally-buried government conspiracy, a rebel cell, and nearly die. A normal days work for the two of them. But they’ve really gotta stop having relationship milestones in the middle of a warzone.

Another reason it’s here is Tonight We Dance is a very aro song to me. “A language universal, but I speak not its tongue” hits hard. I felt like I needed a bit in here to remind listeners/readers that romance isn’t a language Keith speaks. And it becomes very explicit in this fic, just like Belgrade.

(Tomorrow we might wake in servitude and silence/I will give you everything if only you would have me/Tomorrow we will sweat and toil/Our hands will quiver, caked with soil/Tomorrow we'll give it one last chance/But tonight we dance/But tonight we dance!)

But Tonight We Dance is the last of the Closure fics, which is why it’s here. Closure in general is a lot of Keith’s character development and some of the struggles he goes through to accept his place in the universe and the fact that yes, he does have people that care about him. The last fic is me shining a brighter light on Closure’s chorus and taking a ‘last goodbye’ as never needing to say it again

(I am the child from the stars/That got lost in the dark/Between heaven and hell/I am forced to live on/I am the cause when you sin/I am the demon you skin/But there is no more tears to beautify/This is my last goodbye)

Then we step back into the universe-level action with Soulbound. Revelations from String Theory and Firewall swing back in with a vengeance on a joint Whispers-Voltron mission, leaving them reeling and Krolia questioning her very identity.

(Soulbound, endlessly forever/Locked between the darkness and the light/Don’t drown in the swarming, blackened rising/Hold on to humanity and fight)

About three months after that is My Darkest Hour and Faster Than Light. Haggar realizes something and goes searching for her fifth [spoiler], sending the Blade and the rest of the Coalition scrambling. These also lead directly, and I mean directly, into…

(When the sun comes crashing down/When the world is spinning round and round/I will face what must be my darkest hour)

(Once more we’re flying fast as light/Dark matter passing in the night/Pursued by a force we can’t outrun/As we hurtle towards a dying sun/We maneuver through the remnants of a moon/On the solar winds of supernovas/There is not a place to hide, the Matriarch is close behind/It’s plain to see she’s coming for us all)

Cosmic Vertigo and Other Worlds Than These. Together they are the second of two revelations in what, exactly, is [REDACTED]

(Banish me like burned down planets/Write my fate with sparkling lies/I am the universe; you're just one sky)

(Pull the wool out from your eyes/It won’t shade your frail belief/In the end we cannot hide/There are other worlds than these)

Godhunter is Team Voltron, well, hunting for gods, even as one of them disappears.

(She’s been watching for a century/With hatred, and with scorn/If you know the hunter’s coming/Then you hide or keep on running/'Cause she’s slain the gods before)

Trophy Hunter, Ember, and Redemption are the culmination of Godhunter. I’ve been thinking of them as akin to the suicide mission in Mass Effect 2, if that gives you an idea of what the hell they run into. Also I switched which specific Redemption is on the playlist, because I was listening to Red Handed Denial again and their Redemption was vibing way more than the Hammerfall one. They link up to Godhunter and Soulbound in subject matter, and lead directly into…

(You, you won’t escape me, I’ll rise from the deep/In this final moment, no words left to say/I can’t let you be when a life fades away/You, you won’t escape me ‘cause I’ll set you free)

(Dark matter falling from the sky/Dancing flames reflecting in your eyes as you watch them burn/Watching all your riches witches burn)

(Remember me not for the mess I’ve made/But who I could have been/Finally I’m going home)

World On Fire, This is a Call, The Reckoning, The Wind That Shapes the Land, and Louder Than Words. Switched the order up a bit so it makes more sense chronologically, because the message ‘sent by forces beyond salvation’ has to get there before the reckoning can begin.

(World on fire with a smoking sun/Stops everything and everyone/Brace yourself for all will pay/Help is on the way)

(This is a call to action/This is a call to arms/All lives for one, together/There are no false alarms)

(I see your face, find peace of mind/Between the madness and the sadness and the fire burning/The end of war, the great divine/We’ll see the day of reckoning)

(Search within/Uncover the will to win/Turn against the tide that washes o'er/Find the strength to fall and rise again/Open up the gates, unleash the force/I am the wind that shapes the land/Old as time and twice as strong/Oceans arise at my command/I alone can carry on)

(We have the force to fight/We have the blinding light/A war is more than heard/Coming in louder than words)

[bang-to-the-tan]

Moth to Flame

Chapter 16

Reader x OT7

► Vampire!AU

Smut/Porn With Some Plot That is Rapidly Getting Out of Hand Dear God Why Please Help Me

Warnings: Cunnilingus, Mentions of Various Sexual Acts Including Blowjobs and Group Sex, Complicated Morality, Lots of Stockholm Syndrome, Addiction, Possessiveness, Vampires (Graphic Depiction of Biting, Blood-Sucking and References to Death), Depictions of......uh. Drug-Use Equivalent?, Language

↳ Summary: Robbed of your memories and intended as a birthday present for a deadly creature of the night, you unwittingly become the center of a territorial dispute between two covens of vampires. Tensions are rising and the brothers are getting hungry…

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You smell Hoseok. 

Feel his palm, warm and comforting, soft, against your cheek. You huff a small sigh at the feel of it, loathe to open your eyes just yet. The world spins around his touch and you wish you could melt into the feeling, becoming nothing to the universe but how he holds you.

“We’re moving, pretty girl,” he hums, and he’s a lot closer than you thought he might be, his breath casting across your forehead. You want to kiss him, but when you arch forwards, his hand slips from you and his smell moves away. 

Mewling quietly in disappointment, you crack your eyes to peer up at him. Your body is tangled in the sheets, and you’re clutching a pillow to your chest like you might drown without it. Your head is already threatening to start to ache, and it only gets worse when you get an eyeful of the overhead light. Above you, Hoseok has his jacket and hat on, his lips pressed into a straight line that dimples his cheeks.

“Hobi,” you mumble. 

“Come on,” he adds, reaching to rub at your shoulder. “Everything’s packed.”

“I didn’t—” you struggle to sit up, desperately clawing yourself from both the heavy effect of a hard night’s sleep and the bedsheets, which you’ve managed to bundle about yourself like a straitjacket.

“Hoseok,” you continue, voice lowering, trembling, “I don’t remember hitting that man. I’m not…” 

Emotion, emotion, bubbles up from your throat as you try to keep going, but he shushes you. 

“I know. I know you don’t. Come on, you need to get dressed.” 

He has to know, does he know? Does he really understand how you feel? You can’t tell. You want to keep pressing the issue, but when he presents you with his hand, palm-up, you’re grabbing it, pulling it into yourself to sit up. You could cry when you stagger upwards off the bed and land in his arms, head on his chest. The gentle scent of his body wash floods your senses, the feeling of him around you, body heating yours, promising that you belong there. You wish it didn’t break your heart when he steps away and lets go of your hand. 

“Namjoon and Yoongi are already in the car,” he says. “We called in a favor and got some clothes for you so you can wear them, plus one of Namjoon’s sweaters.”

“Another one of Namjoon’s?” you mutter, rubbing at your eyes and casting a glance around the room, only just now realizing that there’s so little of it left. It’s mostly gone. The drawers are open, raided, but the side table is still here. The bookshelf is empty. The frog is missing. You have no idea how they managed to do all that while you were sleeping.

“He wore it all last night,” Hobi says. “We’re hoping it helps Yoongi while we’re in the car.”

Yoongi.

You disguise your sharp inhale as a yawn. Hoseok gives no indication whether he notices. 

“Do you need any help?”

You shift your legs, but the ache between them has dropped enough that it’s barely noticeable. You shake your head.

“Alright. I’ll be just outside the door. Get ready quick.” He slips out, closing the door behind him. 

Dammit. Why did you answer honestly? He could’ve wrapped his arms around you, held you like he did in the shower, close and sweet and caring. Why did you have to tell him the truth?? You get dressed in miserable silence, drawing a discarded comb through your hair briefly. There’s no mirror, so you just assume it’s good enough. Namjoon’s sweater is a cardigan this time—oversized enough that on you it’s almost a dress, covering your hands and draping over your shoulders. Like a hug. You pretend you don’t nose into it for the briefest of moments. You reach for the handle, taking a deep breath and curling your palm over it. 

Back to Jin’s. 

What do they think of you over there? Are they going to accuse you of being a murderer? Are they going to call you a threat, too?

You don’t know. 

Even though you slept presumably through the daytime, you feel tired. Achy.  

The car ride is hell. A cacophony of the rap track playing insistently over the speakers versus the heavy, sullen silence of the passengers. You do your best not to look at Yoongi too much, but when Hoseok herds you into the seat at the front, you do catch a glimpse of him. He’s wearing a hoodie that dwarfs his entire frame, turning him into a little black lump, scrunched up in the corner of the car furthest away from you. He’s even got a black face mask and cap, all but hiding his face. You can’t see his eyes from here, but what little skin you can see, peeking above the fabric over his nose, is drawn and pale. Shining. He’s sweating, and you can see him shivering. Hoseok clambers in beside him once you’re in, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, and you have to turn away. Looking to Namjoon is pointless. His expression isn’t angry. It’s blank. He’s obviously lost in thought as he starts to pull out of the driveway, coaxing the car to speed down the road, leaving the tiny apartment in the dust. You eventually settle for staring out the window, losing yourself to the threadbare scraps of thought spinning lazily in your head like a typhoon played in slow motion.

At one point, Hoseok quietly asks Namjoon to pull over, on a stretch of road cutting through miles and miles of farmland. There’s a shuffle as both he and Yoongi stumble out, Hoseok mumbling encouragement, shutting the door. Namjoon throws them a glance out his side of the window and hangs his head, brows pulling taut. You turn back to your window, watching a nearby street light flicker. They’re out there for a couple minutes before you hear the click of the door and both of them scooting back in. The car rocks as they move.

“You okay?” Namjoon asks, low, in the kind of voice that suggests he knows what the answer will be.

“Never better,” Yoongi croaks, hoarse. 

“We’re almost there, big cat. Just...hang on.” 

“Just feeling a little carsick, is all,” Hoseok says softly. “It’s alright. We’ll get you to Jin’s and give you a break. See if we can’t get you something to help.” 

Something to help. 

It takes real effort on your part not to chase the spark that flits through you at that. You return by force to thinking about nothing much at all.

The car continues, taking a side road out through a half-dead forest, over a rocky path that all but disappears through bare trees. The way the vehicle navigates the bumpy terrain has you feeling mildly ill yourself, misgiving pooling in your gut. The space opens up with no warning, revealing a wide field, the remains of an amusement park that’s been long abandoned. Booths, tattered and worn, rides that are all but rusted into nothing, clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. Your heart rises in your throat when you recognize that must mean you’re getting close. It’s impossible to know if you’re more excited or anxious, but all the same you can’t help the warmth in your chest when the car makes a turn and suddenly you can see a hotel, notably better taken care of than the rest of the park, rising in the foreground. Standing in front of it, on the patchy, half-dead lawn, is Jin’s household, minus Jungkook.

All of them are smiling. Jin stands by, arms folded, looking almost businesslike. Jimin and Taehyung, by sharp contrast, start whooping and waving as soon as you pull into view. Even before Namjoon puts the car into park, they’re dashing for the vehicle, bouncing, grinning so widely their eyes disappear. 

All of you step out, you and Yoongi on opposite sides, and you watch with a faint sense of jealousy as Jimin launches himself at Namjoon, who catches him easily in a spin, a tired but contented smile crossing the taller man’s face. 

“You’re home!” Jimin crows, burying his face in Joon’s collarbone, and as their revolving slows to a halt, you can tell that he’s getting choked up. 

Taehyung immediately guns for Yoongi, who, even in the state he’s in, opens his arms slow, embracing gently. You can see his eyes squinting up past his mask. 

“You finally took those contacts out,” Hoseok laughs at Tae, pointing at him with a wide grin. 

“Ahh, they hurt my eyes,” Taehyung complains with an exaggerated lean. 

“They made you look like a cartoon character.”

“I thought they looked cool…” 

Yoongi chuckles, shoulders quaking.

“We cleaned your rooms for you,” Jimin’s trying to explain, but he’s bubbling up with tears, sniffling, rubbing at his face. “The whole left wing. We’ll help you with your stuff.”

“That’s alright, Jimin—”

“It’s not alright, I said we’d help—”

“—Honestly, we���ve got it—”   

Namjoon turns while he tries to argue light-heartedly with a stubborn Jimin who clings to him with a handful of his upper arm, and the moment he and Jin lock eyes is felt throughout the minor crowd. Everyone stills, watching the two vampires eye each other for a beat. They both stiffen, and you can taste the tension on the back of your tongue. Bitter, aged. Dangerous.

But Jin breaks first into a smile, stepping forward, arms outstretched, and Namjoon immediately copies him, the two embracing shortly but familiarly. 

“I’m sorry it was like this,” Jin says, quiet enough that you almost don’t hear him. “But it’s good to see you again.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” 

Jin turns to look at you, and it feels like the first time since you’ve gotten into the car that someone has noticed your presence. You’re thrown back to watching him denounce you on television, smartly dressed, telling the world to avoid you, and you realize you’re petrified. But longing courses headily through you when his smile doesn’t dissipate, sending warmth through every inch of your body, curling up your spine, holding your breath hostage.

“You kept her,” he says.

Namjoon sighs through his nose, jaw working. There’s a moment where it seems like he might say more, explain more, but instead, he nods once. “Yeah.”

There’s another beat, where Jin looks to Joon again. 

“...do you mind if I give her a hug?” he asks, hushed. 

The surprise that lifts Namjoon’s brows only lasts for a second, even though it feels significant. He blinks, and nods again, looking away. His attention is immediately claimed back by Jimin, who, sensing the tension has left, starts insisting again that he help with the luggage, peeling off the taller man finally to jog back towards the car. You can hear him chastising Taehyung as he goes.

Jin goes to take a step forward, but you’re already running, feet gifted wings, flying across the lawn into his arms so fast you don’t even feel the earth under you. He laughs in delight when you land solidly into his chest and you can feel it resonating through you, wrapping your arms around him, squishing your face against him as closely as possible, inhaling deeply the comfort, the belonging of him. When he curls around you, tender, one hand caressing the top of your head, and then leans forward to rest his cheek on your crown, the dam breaks and you start sniffling, eyes watering. 

“Hello, darling.” he hums, deep, pleased. 

“Jin,” you croak, tightening your hold. 

“It’s good to see you again.” he adds, swaying a little with you, back and forth. “Have you been good?”

“I missed you.” 

He hums again before letting go, and once more you could cry at the loss of the comfort you’re so suddenly needy for, but at least he doesn’t move away, warming your side. Even if he isn’t touching you, it’s something, and you can’t help the immense feeling of relief that he hasn’t decided to be mad at you. Unlike some people. 

“Well,” Jin says, raising his voice to address everyone, “Like Jimin said, we cleaned up the rooms. Even the spare one,” he adds conspiratorially to you with a flick of his eyebrows, “So you get your own room this time.” 

You beam back at him, drunk off his affection, fingers itching to hold his. Everybody starts to file past you into the house, Jimin and Taehyung bowing and shuffling under the weight of bags and boxes, competing to see who can pick up the most, Hoseok and Yoongi chattering congenially with their youngers as they slip past the handsome mahogany doors at a slow, easy pace. 

Namjoon casts a brief look up at Jin, his mouth twitching in a reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He doesn’t turn to you as he stalks past, following the others. You frown at his back, swallowing down disappointment. 

“So,” Jin says after a beat. “Our own little criminal, hm?”

Something coils in your stomach and your world threatens to lurch beneath you. You almost forgot.

“I don’t remember doing it,” your neck snaps around to plead with him, but he’s only watching you kindly, lips quirked. “I don’t remember hitting him. I don’t even...I don’t even know why I would do that.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” he pauses, inhaling a wry breath, throwing a side glance to where Namjoon disappears into the hotel. “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of.”

“It’s—I don’t remember doing it at all,” you argue. “I know it was me, but it doesn’t...Namjoon….” 

You feel Jin’s hand alight on your shoulder, squeezing once, and you nearly cave at the gentle touch, threatening to lose your train of thought.

“He’ll figure out where he stands eventually. Come on,” he urges, brightening. “Come see what we did for your room.” 

Jin leads you into the hall, underneath the chandelier, up the stairs, to the left wing. You recall the last time you came this way and repress a shiver at the scraps of memory. As you pass an open door to your right, you can see Hoseok unloading a meticulously packed suitcase set on a newly polished dresser, still talking with Taehyung, who’s sitting cross-legged atop the four-poster bed, cuddled up with a pillow, listening to his elder talk with all the rapt attention in the world swimming in his now-brown eyes.

To your left, you can hear Jimin chattering above the clatter of what you assume is electrical equipment from the apartment being shifted about the room. Ahead, there’s a click as the door at the end closes. Namjoon’s room. You remember that well enough. 

Something indescribable swells in your chest when Jin skips in front of you to the door directly to your front, a proud light in his eyes as he wraps his palm over the knob and twists, pushing it open with a wide grin and a grand gesture. 

The room past the doorway is clean, newly dusted, smelling like cleaning solution and every member of the household. As you step inside, you could swear you can sense the separate touches each man put into it. The thick duvet, when you brush against it, reminds you of Jin, and you can almost see him draping it over carefully, patting out the creases in the fabric. The lamp in the corner, scooted to and fro no doubt by Jimin’s hand, before settling on the perfect placement. The bookcase, filled with all sorts of books—thick, leather-bound encyclopedias and even some trashy romance novels, it looks like. You suppress a laugh. That’s Taehyung, you bet. It feels like him to you.

A stereo, just underneath the window facing out towards the side of the house. Jungkook’s contribution, no doubt. You brush your fingers against it, and you can almost feel him underneath you. 

“Where is Jungkook?” you ask, turning to look to Jin. His excitement deflates a little, shoulders dropping, but he masks the emotion well by turning instead to a cheesy display of an affronted huff. 

“He’s wandered off like a spoiled teenager,” he replies, quickly turning the subject back to the room. “But never mind him. Look! We got you your own clothes for the dresser. Namjoon gave us your sizes.” 

Something twinges inside you at that, and you have to pause, watching him carefully. 

“...You’re ‘keeping’ me,” you say after a beat, mirroring his phrasing from earlier. It’s easy to get caught up. It’s easy to forget what’s really happening, especially when your head is starting to ache and your bites are starting to itch and every casual touch leaves you feeling like it’ll never be enough.

“Things are... still difficult right now,” he begins, swaying on his feet, bending slightly, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it.”

“While it lasts.” 

His smile fades some, his body stilling from its energized motions before he straightens. He takes a few hesitant steps forward, circling you deliberately, reaching a hand out to your face. It surprises you as much as it does him when you don’t move back, allowing him to stroke across your jaw, thumb brushing your lip. 

“As you like,” he acquiesces, barely above a whisper. “But you’re still here, anyway, aren’t you?” His eyes search yours. You’re reminded of when he asked to cuddle, what seems like months ago. That same strange vulnerability lurking. “You said you missed me?” 

Your breath catches. “I-I did. I do.” 

“Then? Do you like your room?”

“...Yes. Thank you, Jin.” 

The smile that breaks across his face is blinding, creasing his eyes. Despite yourself, the sight of him fills your own heart with light and air. He leans down hastily, and you jolt when you feel the plumpness of his lips caressing yours in a sweet, grateful kiss. He tastes like fine wine. Like velvet and furs. Like home. When you return it, pressing forward to feel more of the warmth, the silk of his pillowy lips, he hums deep in his chest.

“Good,” he murmurs decadently into your skin, kissing you again, eyes closing, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as if savoring it. This close, you can see the shadows trying to develop under his eyes. He disengages and leans back up just as fast as he’d come down to your level, hand slipping from where he’d cupped your cheek.  

“There’s real food in the cabinets, too!” he adds, returning smoothly to excited, walking backwards towards the hall. “I’d love to cook with you sometime...if you wanted.” 

“I’d like that, Jin.” 

“You remember where my room is?” He starts sliding behind the door with a raise of his brows. Your door. 

It’s a struggle to snap out of the loop that single thought throws you for. “Yeah.” 

“If you need anything.” 

You nod. “Okay.” 

“Okay?”

“Okay.” 

“Good.” Jin disappears behind your door, shutting it behind himself, but hesitates just before fully closing it. His head pops back out around the corner, his expression genuine. 

“Welcome home,” he adds, quiet. 

You feel warmth in your chest, spreading through you steadily like a cup of tea on a cold day. 

“...Thanks,” you reply finally.

The click of the door is too loud. Your skin is cold where his hand used to be. For a moment you just stand there, staring into nothing. What’s even happened to you? What are you even doing here?...But you can’t deny—you didn’t want to stop kissing him. You can still taste him on your lips, can still smell him against your cheek. 

You decide to spend a little time checking out your new room. Having your own space is nice, but you wish you had someone to share it with...You pause, frowning at your own thoughts, halfway to the dresser. That would circumvent the whole point, wouldn’t it? 

Maybe. But still. 

The clothes are a wide variety of styles and varieties, all of them the same sizes you and Namjoon had figured at the store. Namjoon...your lips still tingle with Jin’s furtive kiss. He kissed you like that once, too. Kissed you like you meant something to him, in the middle of the discount rack. You’re not going to cry over him. You aren’t, this is stupid. You’re not going through a breakup, you’re a kidnapping victim with stockholm and an addiction to fucking vampires. And fucking vampires. 

But your hand remembers how he entwined your fingers on the sofa. 

You aren’t going to cry over him, and yet, there is something wrong with your vision, even as you wipe furiously at your eyes. Your head’s starting to hurt more fiercely. 

Jungkook’s here. You know he’s standing behind you, just at the doorway, before you even recognize the click of the door opening.

“Hey.” 

You don’t even turn to look at him until you’ve successfully banished the start of what would surely be a full-blown pity cry if you let it get out of hand. You pretend to be focused on folding the clothes you pulled out of the dresser and shoving them back in before you move to acknowledge him.

“Hey.” Your voice is a little more hoarse than you’d like. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

He’s back to looking a little worse for wear—not as bad as the last time, but obviously what he took from you is starting to wear off. What a shame. You wonder if anyone in this house misses you, or just what’s in your veins.

“You’re okay?” 

Loaded question of the century. You grimace. 

“Sure.” 

He doesn’t so much as blink, lurking by your doorway like a kid waiting to be chastised.  

“Have fun over there?” 

“No more fun than I had over here.” 

His cherry colored head bobs, eyes suddenly casting downwards. An amused grin ghosts at his lips, but he hides it by passing his hand faux absently over his mouth. 

“I’m glad you’re still alive,” he admits. “I was really worried.”

“Were you?” 

He nods again. Hesitates. He throws his gaze to an indeterminate corner, dark brows creasing, before he looks back to you. 

“I’ll...I’ll see you around?” He sounds hopeful. You almost want to laugh. Fangs aren’t the only thing he inherited from Jin.

“I’m sure you will.” 

That seems to satisfy him for now, and with another awkward duck, he slips out of your room. Your gaze sticks to the door for a little longer, rubbing at your chest before you even realize you’re doing it.

You didn’t get a good look at Jimin or Taehyung, but you could bet money they’re starting to go gaunt around the cheekbones, too. Dark in the eyes. Hungry. 

A shiver rolls through you and you lick your lips nervously. A house full of vampires, and all of them need the same thing you need. The same thing you need. All of you itches, flaring to life as suddenly as if summoned by just the thought. 

Hoseok doesn’t look too bad yet. Namjoon, either. You don’t know where they’d been feeding, who they’d been feeding on, but you won’t think on it too long lest you allow that festering emotion any more room in you to grow into full fledged jealousy. 

It’s fine. They’ll come around eventually. They’ll have to.

Jimin and Taehyung didn’t even come to see you. Your guess is that none of the younger vampires are meant to be hanging out with you. On probation, of sorts. You’d hate for anyone to get in any more trouble, cause any more issues between the houses.

Jin won’t risk pissing Namjoon off this early into their being back. He’s too diplomatic for that. Even his kiss felt stolen.

That just leaves one person. 

You shake your head. No. No, this train of thought is no good to dwell on. 

Isn’t there a bathroom? Is that what that other door is for? You know it is, it’s the same layout as Namjoon’s room. You half-expect to find frog stickers decorating the tiles. 

Frog stickers...Remember when Jungkook fingered you in Namjoon’s bathroom? With Jimin in the other room? 

No. There’s no use chasing that memory.

You can’t have them right now. 

...But Yoongi. Yoongi is sick. He doesn’t look too good at all. You can’t imagine how he must be feeling right now...the poor guy...if only you could help him somehow.

You spin on your heel, turning instead to the window. Wonder what it looks out at. Probably just more grounds. Like you faced when Jimin talked you down from the sill. Before you followed him out to Namjoon’s room. Before he forced you down his cock. God, you can almost taste him. 

Not too far removed from when you sucked Yoongi’s cock, either. The weight of him on your tongue? The taste of his sweat? His groan echoes in your ears and it sends shivers reaching long fingers down your back.

How about how worried Namjoon was about him? 

It’s a public service, basically—if you, say, offered yourself up. If you offered him what he needed. What you need.

Maybe you should go downstairs instead. 

That one room would be nice. Down the stairs, through the hall, to the left. Namjoon, petting your cunt, sinking his teeth into your fucking skin. Jin, pistoning into you, sweating above your body, biting at your neck. Perfect teeth, perfect bliss, hurting you and hazing you and biting you and making everything golden and right. 

...You wouldn’t even really be in the wrong, if Yoongi drank from you. Either of you. You’re both consenting adults, who says you can’t? Namjoon? Fuck him. Fuck him, he doesn’t know how badly you need it. Namjoon did the same thing, by giving you to Jin. It’s the same thing. He can’t stay mad at you if you helped his brother. And what about poor Yoongi? So hungry. Why not?

A strangled, frustrated noise leaves your throat of its own volition and you want to curl up on the floor, clutching handfuls of your own hair. There’s no argument you can make against yourself. Now that your brain has gotten ahold of this idea, you can’t seem to shake it from its grasp. 

The mark at the inside of your thigh itches so terribly. It burns. God, you came so hard when he bit you there. You scratch at it absentmindedly, trying to hold off from grinding against your own hand at even so much as the memory. 

What if he kills you? It’s a possibility. They’re definitely capable of it. 

And so what?

So what? 

You’re a murderer, apparently. An addict. A pet, at best. 

Who knows how long they’ll ‘keep’ you. 

‘But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it’. Isn’t that right, Jin?

And what would you enjoy right now? 

You cast a glance towards your door. The surface of your skin prickles in anticipation, but your mind has already resolved itself. You don’t recall pulling the door open, but soon enough you’re facing the hallway, limbs twitching, thoughts furtive as if at any moment, someone might stop you.   

Maybe he won’t be in his room. Maybe you don’t even know for sure which one he’s in.

You remember where Namjoon’s room is. 

And you saw Hoseok in the room further down.

You take the steps necessary to stand in front of the other door, the one you heard Jimin in. Is he still there? No. No, you can tell, he’s left. It’s just Yoongi. You can feel him through the door, like a miasma, a siren’s song painted with sharp teeth through the wood panelling.

Electricity skitters down your body and for a moment, you’re hyper-aware of how much of a very bad idea this is. It’s a terrible idea. An awful idea. It could go so badly. He could lose control.  There’s so few scenarios you can see panning out where you come out of this intact, and yet your fingers are still ghosting towards the door, brushing the handle, curving, turning, the excitement in your chest flaring when you realize it’s unlocked. 

Before you can rationalize your way out of it, you’re throwing yourself inside, pulling it shut behind, eyes trained on the form curled up on the far side of the bed taking up the right corner of the room. He has his back to you, legs pulled up to his chest, head resting on his knees. He doesn’t move, not even when the door clicks into place. 

He’s left the lights off, illuminating the room only barely with the moonlight coming through the window. Even in the dark, you can see that on the dresser, littered across the sides, placed delicately on the desk are all sorts of electronic boards. Drumpads, some, keyboards, speakers. A computer whirring in the background. Vaguely, you recall what Hoseok had said about making music. 

But that’s not important. 

It really isn’t. Not now. 

You clear your throat, wavering.

“Yoo—” 

“Out,” he rasps, low, dark. 

“Yoongi,” you start again. “Listen—”

“No. Get out.” He interrupts sharply.   

You take a breath, and find that you’re shaking, but from what you can’t tell. Fear or excitement? You’re still taking a step forward, despite every inch of your animalistic senses screaming predator. Danger. 

“I want you to bite me.” 

He shifts, the movement erratic, curling further in on himself. 

“Get out,” he repeats, and his throat sounds raw, hoarse. 

“I want it,” you insist, voice sinking as your heart pounds its way through your chest, threatening to overtake your veins. “I’m consenting. Right?”

“Get out.”

“I dream about it sometimes. Being bitten.” 

“No.”

You switch tactics. “I know you’re sick. I know you feel like you’re dying. Let me help.”

“If you don’t leave, I’m going to hurt you.” 

“Good.” You pull up short, shocked at the truth in your own words, when you hit the edge of the bed and realize you’ve been stalking the whole way across the threshold, close enough now that if you leaned over and stretched your fingertips, you could touch him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

A flash of trepidation courses through you and you’re gifted a second of clarity. Pity. But you’re so close that a sinister triumph oozes through you insidiously, like oil on water, until the uncertainty is tampered and almost entirely snuffed out. You’re so close to your quarry, and he has nowhere to run. You’re between him and the door. You’re so close.

“It’s the only thing I think about,” you continue to wheedle, soft, as you start to skirt around the bed to his side. “The only thing I want. I need it. Fangs in my skin and haze in my mind. I want it so badly. Just as bad as you do.” 

Yoongi laughs at that, the sound humorless, short, wheezing. He moves his head to rest away from you, shoulders scooting when he tightens his grip around his legs. 

“I could kill you.”

“You could. I wouldn’t mind.” Wouldn’t you? You’re not sure what you’re saying. You can’t think above the rushing in your ears.

“No? You don’t think so?” 

There’s no warning. One minute you’re almost at his side, reaching forward. You’ll put your hand on his shoulder, maybe sneak it down his front if you can, slip it under his shirt. Feel for his skin, ease him open. Your mouth waters at the thought of being the agent of temptation. The next second, you feel force against your upper body, darkness obscuring your vision, hiding you from the judgement of the scant moonlight streaming through the window, bedding at your back and heat, heat, feverish, burning through your clothes at your front, legs forced apart by a knee knocking into yours, arms pinning you to the mattress, panting warmth across the column of your neck as he hovers, eyes obscured by the hair that straggles across his face. You can’t breathe, you’re so excited, a rush dashing through your limbs, adrenaline activated just that second too late to be of any use, fizzing into your fingers and toes like too much soda pop. 

“It’s okay—” you try, eager, but he’s violently releasing one arm to tangle his fingers into your hair, yanking your head into the mattress, baring more of your skin to his uneven, slavering breaths, forcing your vision limited to the wardrobe in the corner. 

He doesn’t reply to your mewling gasps, and instead you next feel a wet, velvet heat tasting a path up your neck, the opposite side to Jin and Joon’s marks, licking up the underside of your jaw, a growl resounding deep within his chest. 

His soft lips, next, mouthing there, a carnal pantomime of a kiss. Arousal, thick, insistent, boiling in your belly, curving your back towards the creature hunkered over you, your own mouth falling open, eyes rolling. So close. So close. You’re murmuring encouragement you aren’t even aware of, trying to pull him nearer to you.

His bite is so quick, so sharp, that you barely feel the pressure at all—only an intense pain, shattering across your skin and immediately casting fire down your body. He buries his fangs into your flesh, as deep as he can force them, the sensation crystal clear, acute, and yet dull, aching. He takes his first heady gulp of the life from your veins, tongue laving against you. 

You watch every star burst and cascade into glitter behind your eyes as the two of you gasp out for breath in unison, roiling towards each other like beasts. Yoongi readjusts to swallow down more of you desperately, the sound of your rushing blood deafening in your own ears, tasting your heartbeat in the back of your throat. Your body twitches under him, some survival mechanism beyond your control reaching to push him away, arms seizing, but he only pins you more firmly, and dimly you know you’re thanking him. 

Time slows into a syrup, its passing marked only by the ebb and flow of Yoongi feeding, the suction of his lips, his gulps, vehement breaths drawn through his nose, his hair tickling your cheek, hands constantly twitching, squeezing at you where he has you held down with a grasp like iron. Fire licks up from your fingers, coils around your torso, dips into your cunt, and you exhale it with every breath, feeling your vision sizzle and spark with its embers.

The wardrobe swims, changing colors, dissolving and reforming as you stare, open-mouthed, sinking through the bed, falling endlessly into sultry velvet nothingness. 

The suction at your neck breaks, pain resurfacing, welcoming, when he’s torn away from your skin, fangs retracting with a sick noise, and you arch, struggling, mind scattered, empty, but a slick fever bathes a trail from beneath your ear to your collarbone to calm you back into a hazy lull with a contented purr, lapping at the new wound that stings, smarts, compelling your frame to throb every time he licks back up at it. 

Your pants are moving. Namjoon’s cardigan slipping off you, your deadweight falling limply away from it, back into the cushion. The shirt. The jeans. Both socks, one by one, jerked at restlessly, until you feel a chill all over, raising goosebumps over your flesh. It doesn’t last long. 

The crook of your knee, hoisted up, meeting a warm shoulder, hair tickling at your thighs. Your head lolls drunkenly when you crane your neck in curiosity, bleary. The thing crouching between your legs meets your gaze, luminous in your sight even with the limited light, catlike eyes glassy, blown so wide there’s hardly any iris left, unblinking. He nuzzles forward, tongue parting your folds, beginning to kiss and nip there, quickly becoming unforgiving, rough. He snarls into your wetness when you gasp soundlessly, hips rising to meet his hot mouth. He pushes you further into yourself, pinning you again, attaching to your clit with a strength of suction to match what he’d done to your neck. You’re crying, twitching, head thrown back, half-lidded stare at the ceiling as you dig your fingers into his hair, tugging, pulling, moving him with you as you hump his ruthless tongue.

Fingers stroking at the inside of your thigh, just by his head, the scab. He sucks harsh at your clit, sweeping up, tasting your shriek, his breath moving from your cunt to reattach in a decadent kiss, soothing the itch, the ache, the desire carved into your flesh. His digits slide, wet, so wet, curling up through your pussy, knuckles circling, fingertips parting your velvety walls and you sigh.

Again his fangs pierce you, pulling you under a new wave of pain, pleasure, reality fracturing all around you into nothing but the pull of blood from your veins, the stroke of his lips, the rocking of his hand into you, and suddenly the knot in your belly is tightening, static crawling up from your toes, forming a tsunami that crashes over your entire frame, and you’re cumming, vision blurry, head full of cotton, teeth bared, keening and crying, tearing your throat into raw threads and so, oh so perfect as you convulse thoughtlessly.

The universe stops existing but for this moment of pleasure, pain, curled up into yourself. Your body dissolving, nowhere, everywhere, everywhere. The blackness of the room swallows you whole, pulls you apart and holds you hostage between the stars. 

Warm lips at your ear, kissing softly. Sweetly. 

A low voice, a groan, humming, muttering, insistent, constant, thrumming. The bed beneath you is soft, wet, cushioning your naked body. Cold. You’re starting to feel cold. Your hands twitch, fingers curling one by one as you slowly regain presence. There’s rapidly-cooling wetness up your thigh, something half-hard drifting up your leg as the shape above you shifts his weight, and it’s strange to you, peering up at him as your vision starts to clear, wavering, how brightly he wears the moonlight. It glows across his bare shoulders, casts flares down his stomach, his arms, lights icy blue embers off his hair. He’s shining with sweat, glittering with it. Where once he was obscured, you can see him almost flawlessly. Is he naked? His fingertips press delicately into your cheek, appraising, and you blink up to meet his gaze again. Yoongi. 

His tongue flits out between his lips, nervous, eyes darting to and fro. “Are you gonna pass out? Fuck. Do I need to—what do I do?” 

Your neck hurts. Your thigh hurts, too. Even your pussy kind of aches, with how hard it clamped down. You’re lost in musing, taking warm, faded inventory of yourself, but your eyes flit back to meet his, an amused, satisfied grin creeping over your face at the wide-eyed expression of concern on his face. 

“—orgive myself if I fucking killed you. Goddammit. I-I didn’t mean—”

“I’m not gonna pass out.”  

His head drops with a rush of a sigh, arms curling around you in an awkward almost-embrace. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, heady with relief. “Fuck.”

“It’s getting cold.” 

“I thought I fucking killed you.”

“Not dead.”

“No, not yet. Thank fuck.” 

“Stop swearing.”

“How the fuck are you okay?” 

“I dunno,” you hum. “Are you naked?” 

“Yeah. I kind of…” he clears his throat. “On your thigh.” 

“Makes sense.”  

He sighs again, sucking air through his teeth, before he raises his head to peer at you, eyes searching yours. 

“You’re not dying?” he reiterates, shifting upwards.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” 

“Fuck.” he pauses. “That was really dangerous. Really dangerous.” 

“Paid off for both of us.” you point out with a raise of your brows, moving uncomfortably. You sweat the hell out of his sheets. It’s soggy beneath you. He doesn’t seem to care, looking at you like you’ve grown another head.

“Ah. Right. I get it. You’re crazy.”

“‘Crazy bitch looking to start a war’. Wasn’t that it?” Maybe if you joke enough, eventually it won’t hurt. Not yet, though. Not yet.

Still, he chuckles at that, a wry grin pulling at his face, baring his gums briefly, pushing into his cheeks. He leans forward, and when he presses his silky mouth to yours, you can taste your own cunt and blood. You can almost see why he likes it so much.  

“If you’re sure you aren’t dying,” he hums when you part, licking at his lips. “Then...?” 

Your neck twinges and you reach to brush it lightly, swallowing down an inhale when the fresh marks spark pleasure down your exhausted body. Your fingers come back sticky and you make a face at them, rubbing absently.

 “...Shower?” you suggest. 

He bounces his head to the side. “Shower...sounds...good. Yeah.” 

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