#i wish i could stab myself to death

[mushed-kid]

.

[dutifully-sweaty-student]

I want to complain Sooo bad

I'm a bad partner because I'm so moody and my isolation is making me hate people who are happy, which makes me feel like a bad person

What if I never get better what if I'm like this the rest of my life? I'm going to lose everything because no one wants to be around someone so negative.

I don't deserve my partner and one day someone nice will take them from me

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

the letter. l General Marcus Acacius

Summary: One letter changed everything.

Warnings: secret relationship, kissing, mentioning of sex, some stress and talking about death

A/N: So that's it. One weak idea and what grew up around it. I hope you can read it. I haven't written anything in a long time.

Your hands were shaking and your throat was tight with unbearable pain. The short and hastily written letter that you had been holding for several minutes was getting stuck in your brain, and its words were almost screaming at you.

"...disobedience..." "...the senator felt rejected and disgraced by your refusal..." "...friend of the Emperor..." "...they demand your head..." "... someone will be sent..." "...run..."

You lifted your head and looked around the room, gasping for breath. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your whole body felt numb.

When the messenger showed up at your door that evening, you didn't expect it would be your last day on earth. A kind friend, someone who didn't wish you harm, but had heard a lot decided to warn you.

And that was it? Is this how you were supposed to end? Killed on the Emperor's orders just because some stupid senator felt hurt when you rejected his intrusive advances and marriage proposal?

"Gods, have mercy on me..."

You should have expected this. Claudius was an arrogant ignoramus who considered himself far superior to any other man except the Emperor. You shouldn't have teased him. Even though you were sure that your refusal was polite and you never let him know that you were happy with his advances...

"Stupid male pride." you muttered to yourself, crumpling the letter in your hands.

How much time do you have? Would you have time to leave Rome? Perhaps you could dispose of the estate, give orders to the servants. What if some Roman legionary is already coming to you to free you from this corporeal shell?

You've never felt so alive before. Almost...

An unexpected noise coming from the entrance reached your ears, and after a while your doorman rushed into the room, bowing low.

"Lady, General Acacius has arrived." he said quickly, "I told him that..."

The man didn't finish because the General unceremoniously rushed into the room, pushing him aside. You stood up abruptly, seeing the sword he was holding in his hand and the madness in his eyes.

"Gaius, leave us." you said quickly.

“My lady…” the man looked at you with fear.

"Now." you glanced at the older man's scared face, "Please."

Gaius quickly backed out of the room.

"General Acacius." you nodded. “I didn't think the Emperor would send you, but maybe it's better. At least death will be quick.”

Has your voice trembled? Your heart was trying to jump out of your chest like it was a little creature, you must have forgotten how to breathe. Every second lasted an hour.

And Marcus? You saw his chest heave with each deep breath that filled his lungs. The hand still gripped the sword blade tightly as if they were one. Even the fire in his eyes and the ferocity of his rush into your house didn't scare you as much as his silence.

"Marcus?"

"You already know?" he croaked.

"Yes, I know. And I'm really glad it's you..."

The loud clang of a sword falling to the floor made you almost jump. In one brief moment, this strong and powerful man walked up to you and fell to his knees, hugging your legs and burying his face in the folds of your robe.

"I just found out. I was rushing to you, afraid it would be too late and I wouldn't see you again." he muttered, "Gods! You don't know how scared I was."

You placed your hands on his shoulders, tenderly tangling your fingers in his soft and damp hair.

"So it's not you?"

"I would rather stab myself with a sword a thousand times than ever lay a finger on you. How could I? Tell me how could I?"

"Who did the Emperor send?"

"I don't know, but if he shows up here, I'll cut him to pieces as soon as he looks at you."

Marcus stood up and you saw that his eyes, although shiny, glared at you with fury. He was a brilliant general, whom thousands of legionaries would follow into fire, and whom all Rome's enemies feared, but you... You knew the real him.

When you met General Acacius for the first time, you felt repulsed by him. A strong and portly man, dressed in white and gold. Favorite of Rome and the Emperor. His skin was kissed by the sun and his brown eyes could tell you about the hundreds of places he had seen.

Maybe this is what fate and the Gods wanted? You couldn't fight it because the reward was so sweet.

His lips roaming your body. Strong hands exploring every inch of your skin and bringing out the sweetest sounds to his ears. The breaths were one and the bodies fit together so perfectly that there was no doubt in your mind. You were meant to be together from the very beginning. Since the beginning of the world.

But you couldn't talk about it openly. Not when wars were still raging in the far reaches of the Empire and Marcus had to serve your Emperor.

But he's finally back, right? He was again a hero loved by crowds. His name was heard on the lips of the inhabitants like a prayer, like a sweet song.

Marcus Acacius, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Acacius.

His warm hands held your face as he rested his forehead against yours.

"I was talking to the Emperor. He was telling me about it with amusement, and I felt like... Fuck! I had so many thoughts in my head, I thought I might explode." he said quietly.

"Hush, honey." you whispered, placing your fingers gently on his lips, he kissed them without thinking, "We knew this would happen. It was just a matter of time..."

"I should tear Claudius apart with my bare hands." Marcus hissed furiously, "But we still have time. There's still something else we can do."

He pulled his face away and looked at your weak smile playing on your lips.

"I will speak to the Emperor." he said in a determined voice, "I'll convince him that..."

"Claudius is his friend." you interrupted him, "You can't..."

"And I am the hero of Rome. Haven't you heard what the people say? The Emperor will give me what I want."

"And what do you want?"

He didn't have to answer anything. When his lips crushed against yours, that was his answer. He kissed you madly, like he was fighting for every breath, like you only had this one moment. You were falling apart in his arms into a thousand pieces. How could you feel dead when Marcus actually made you live? He was your sun, your everything, more than life.

"You can't go to war with the Emperor, with all of Rome, just for one woman." you stuttered, intoxicated by him. “This is insane.”

"You're more than all this. Take it." Marcus pressed his ring into your hand. “I will tell the Emperor that we were married secretly.”

"Marcus..."

"He may be mad, but I can handle it. I will say that we did this before I left. You were married when Claudius courted you. You didn't break any law."

"I can't."

"You have no other choice, Y/N. I won't let you die, do you understand? Even if I have to fight the entire Empire, I will drown it in blood for you."

And you knew Marcus was telling the truth. You pulled him towards you, kissing him deeply. If this was to be your last time, you were grateful for that hope.

"Expect a rider." he said as he picked up the sword from the floor. "If I fail, I will send a trusted man to you. Then you will leave Rome. As far as you can."

"And you?"

"I will find you. No matter what, I will find you." he walked up to you, kissing you one last time. "If everything goes well, I'll come to you myself."

"I trust you, Marus. With all my heart."

"I know. Stay safe, love."

And he left, leaving you completely devastated. You were still clutching his gold ring, your last hope.

Marcus' plan was crazy and you knew it. The Emperor would have to be in a really good mood to believe the story about your secret wedding. Will this enrage him? Even so, he could only take your life. And what would life be without the love you carried in your heart? You were more afraid for Marcus, for his life, for him not to do something stupid.

"Your love is making me crazy." he whispered to you so many times at night.

Eventually you will meet again someday. In this life or another. This is what the Gods wanted, this is what fate wanted.

You couldn't fight it.

General Marcus Acacius surrendered the moment his eyes first landed on you. He was powerless. He made you his Queen and you couldn't refuse him. He was like wine, like incense in the temple, which numbs the senses. He was your beginning and your end. You were grateful to the Gods for this love, but you were also willing to give it up to keep Marcus alive. You were...

The sound of hooves echoed in the yard. You pressed Marcus' ring to your lips and placed it on your finger in anticipation.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[oncasette]

FANGTASIA. send in a character from my guide + one of the prompts below for a drabble!

how about... "you shouldn't have touched them. every single mark on their body is going to be returned to yours." wiiith our mans eric northman!

please, thank you, love youuu!!! 🩵🩵

𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗𝗡'𝗧 𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞

eric northman x fem!reader

summary: 1.3k

You’d had vampire blood. Pam and Chow had been gracious enough to offer you their wrists months after you’d started working at Fangtasia, a safety precaution as they’d claimed. You'd had Eric's blood. He could feel your fear, he knew where you were, why wasn't he coming?

or the one where eric saves you from an anti-vampire rights enthusiast.

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, death, kidnapping, stabbing

a/n: i know i said drabbles but i couldn't contain myself. i am violently ill with my love for this man.

masterlist | taglist

You think you're dying. surely. There's no way the human body would be able to endure this much pain without ultimately giving up the ghost, right? 

You never should have gotten involved with vampires. They were nothing but a bucket of trouble, as your mother would have put it. And has she had put it, a multitude of times, before she'd ever even known you'd applied to work at Shreveport's resident vampire bar. 

What she didn't know, though, was how incredible they could be. How, even without all their supernatural abilities, intensely good they could be when they decided they wanted. How loyal and caring and kind when they chose to do so. Just how beautiful they could be, fangs and all. 

‘Course, there still was that whole bucket of trouble thing. 

"You sure are pretty for a fangbanger," your captor drawled from where he was watching you from across the room. He'd tied you to a chair at the center of it, thick scratchy ropes binding your wrists to the unlaquered wood beneath you. You spit, knowing that it won't reach the man from this distance, but hoping, almost willing it to hit him squarely between the eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you say.

“Ooh,” he whistles. “You’ve sure got a mouth on you, sweet cheeks. Why waste it on one of those dead fuckers when you could have someone with an actual, bleeding fucking heart?”

“You’re a waste of skin, you piece of shit,” you huff. Not that it was any of his goddamn business, anyway, but you had only ever slept with one man, and it sure as shit hadn’t been one of your bosses.

“Aw, c’mon. I bet you get so cold after one of them vampers is inside you, don’t you. All icy and chilly like. Let me give you a little tip, sweetheart. Humans. Need. Warmth.”

“You say that as if you aren’t a fucking sad sack,” you say. “What a sorry excuse for a human, huh?”

“What’d they do to you, huh, girl? Did they glamor you into only wanting a dead man’s dick?” he asks, slowly shifting and standing from his stool so that he could approach you. Despite their constant–and half-hearted–threats, you’d never been glamored by your vampire coworkers. Your breathing shakes as he approaches in swift steps. It’s then that you see the knife in his hand. 

For the first time in a long time, you realize, genuine fear strikes through you. 

“I’m gonna teach those vampers a lesson,” he says. “And you’re going to help me do that.”

You’d had vampire blood. Pam and Chow had been gracious enough to offer you their wrists months after you’d started working at Fangtasia, a safety precaution as they’d claimed. You'd had Eric's blood. He could feel your fear, he knew where you were, why wasn't he coming?

The knife trails along your collarbone. You're glad it was as dull as it was, knowing if it'd been sharper it would be slicing the skin open in its path down. Then he presses down harder. You can’t muffle the whine as it escapes you, no matter how much you want to. No matter how desperately you wish to not show the man that he holds any power over you. You can feel the blood seeping out of the wound. It dribbles down your chest in a thick stream as it pools and stains the gray cotton of your t-shirt.

“Stop!” you plead. He chuckles before driving the blade deeper into you. With feeble force, you try to get him off with a stunted kick to his knee; It was all you could manage with the way your knees had been duct-taped together. 

“Bitch!” he heaves before rearing back to slap you with the bladeless hand. It slashes your cheek, shallowly, thankfully, but you can feel the ache of where his hand had connected with your cheekbone. “You’re gonna regret that.”

He takes the knife and stabs it into your side, just narrowly missing your ribcage. 

Before you can manage out even a wince, the door to the small shack you’d been held in for the last few hours splinters and it unceremoniously removed from its hinges. 

Eric says nothing as he rushes in. You barely register that it’s him save for the split second image you’d captured from where he’d lingered in the doorway. Your captor is off of you instantly, though you’re still bound to the chair. Eric stills. Wind warps around him as he does so, wrapping him in a flurry of movement as he stands with the man locked in his grasp. 

“You never should have fucking touched her,” Eric growls with his fangs fully extended, grip tightening around the burly man’s neck and raising him inches off the ground. There’s not even a hint of the usual smirk you were so accustomed to seeing. “Every single mark on her body will be returned unto you tenfold.”

“She fucking deserved it,” he gargles as the vampire latches onto the expanse of neck not currently held within his hand. The man screams out in anguish and you pull your eyes tight to avoid watching any more. Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hearing. The screams and the rips and the crunches. You hear something hard and solid hit the floor and somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach you know it’s bone. 

You hear the man gasp out a dead fuck only for Eric’s grasp to tighten fully, effectively severing the man’s skull from his spinal chord without detaching it from his body. The man drops to the floor with a loud thump and Eric shoves the corpse away with the toe of his shoe before he moves toward you. 

“What took you so long?” you exhaled as he moved behind you to unbind your wrists. 

“I was away on business,” he gruffs, spitting slightly to get the last of the man’s blood out of his mouth. He’d already drunk his fair share, you thought, what good what that do?

Swallowing, you ask, “And you still came?”

He walks back around to begin undoing the restraints on your legs. He’s being so gentle, you realize. If he’d wanted, he could have had this done within seconds and yet, here he was, tenderly undoing the tape and rope and rubbing a soothing hand over the abraded skin. 

“I’ll always come for you,” he says. “Until I meet the true death, I will always come for you.”

He extends his wrist up to his mouth and you wince as he punctures the flesh. 

“Eric,” you sigh. 

“Drink,” he says. 

Nodding, you allow him to bring his wrist to your mouth and latch down on the leaking wound. It’s tangy and metallic and overall pretty gross, but you’re more than grateful for it at that moment. You lick your lips when he pulls his arm back down, the small bite marks already well on their way to closing completely. 

“Will you take me home?” you ask, suddenly overwhelmed with the wave of fatigue hitting you. 

He rises back to his full height and extends a hand out towards you. The second you grab it, he’s pulling you up from your chair to hold you flush against his form. Then, in another rush of wind, you’re standing on your front porch. 

Slowly, you pull away from the vampire to take a step towards your door. Your body aches, but it’s already mostly healed as you run a hand over the small incision at your waist. 

“Thank you,” you say. “Eric.”

He’s silent, looking you over in a way that you can’t help but think is more than just an assessment of your injuries. He settles on your eyes when he says, “Anytime.”

[mullermilkshake]

Sukuna’s proposal

Yakuza!Sukuna x Fem!reader

MINORS DNI - Tags: Yakuza AU, fem reader, knives, blood, graphic depictions of violence, references to non-con, stabbing, potential death, gun use, fighting, risk of death/murder, threats of violence, marriage proposal.

Shinjuku - 1982…

Mr Nanami called your name from his office, "Can you come in here please?"

"Is everything alright?" for the first time since you started this job, Kento Nanami showed a concerned look across his face.

"I have someone incredibly important coming and I have to be upfront with you," he offered up the chair across from his desk and allowed you to sit. "To be honest, I thought you would have left by now."

Was he questioning your professionalism? You had been there a few months and he hadn't uttered a word. "How so?"

"Well this sort of work isn't exactly your usual office work, I know you're aware of my security systems."

You were also very aware that at least Mr Nanami was Yakuza, though it never bothered you. It was simple enough to come into work, do your job and leave in the evening. Of course it came with its risks, but any job linked to the Yakuza warranted more open eyes than usual.

That was why you opted for spray in your bag incase someone came with overzealous hands. You could handle yourself in some capacity, so it was never an issue.

"I'm also aware that you are Yakuza, Mr Nanami. That doesn't bother me if that's what you are trying to imply?"

Was that a sigh of relief? "So you're up to speed then, this makes things easier. I apologise I never implicitly clarified before you came, but as you may have noticed, it's difficult to find civilian staff who won't run at the first sign of trouble."

Mr Nanami seemed like a reliable man at least, he was prompt, respectful and incredibly chivalrous. Something that may come in handy later should trouble actually arise.

Though for now, it seemed plausible to suggest that you were in good hands. As long as that didn't change and he left you out in the cold.

"I took this job knowing what sort of work you may have been in, I just need a steady pay check to afford my apartment. I don't need to know anything or ask questions."

Mr Nanami nodded and leant forward in his chair, lacing his fingers together in thought. "Good. At least I won't have to explain this."

He rummaged through his desk drawer and pulled out a knife. large enough to be mistaken for a kitchen knife, though it was dainty enough to be pocket sized if you squinted at it hard enough.

"I want you to keep this in your desk out front. The man who's coming is the type that some people despise for various reasons and I do not like the fact you have nothing as a deterrent while he's here."

Some might have suggested in their minds that the man himself was a serial killer or something, but that wasn't it at all. That signified to you that the man in question was someone of great importance to Mr Nananmi.

His own boss perhaps? Someone with enough power to make enemies out of the wood work to warrant protection from a secretary out front at collateral.

You bet on that it was his boss.

"Alright then," you leant forward and took the knife from the desk, its weighted handle gleaming in the low light of the screens off to the left side of the room you never dared to look at. "If that's what you wish of me, consider it done."

Mr Nanami got up from his chair as a signal for you to do the same. "Thank you, I hope you never have to use it."

"I hope so too," following him, he led you out of the office and back to your desk to which you slipped the knife into your drawer just like he had done before. "What time will your guest arrive?"

"Tonight, but I won't need you to bring him through. I'll greet him myself," he made a move back to his office and stopped in his tracks. "It's best if you don't make direct eye contact with him, his presence can be overwhelming to some."

You nodded to give non-verbal communication and turned to your work for rest of the day until Mr Nanami came back out of his office to greet the shadow at the door.

"Chairman," seeing Mr Nanami bow to another man was an odd sight.

The man being shorter in stature than himself, bright hair and unusual tattooed markings on his face. He was beautiful, the markings were beautiful in their own way, and being a Yakuza man made his presence all that more intimidating.

Well, to other people. Not to you.

To you, he was just another man just like Mr Nanami.

For a fleeting second, the two of you made eye contact to which you bowed your head in respect and continued working, noting his silent footsteps wander past you and into Mr Nanami's office.

Another hour must have passed in silence while your pen scribbled away, scratching over the quiet for something to listen to. Paperwork and filed reports sorted alphabetically to make the time not drag whilst there wasn't much else to do.

A knock at the outer office door was the most interesting thing in the whole room, it sounded timid by the rapping of knuckles which led you to believe it was Ino coming back to tinker with the network, or fiddle with something computer related.

But it wasn't.

It was a man you had never seen before. "I'm sorry, is there any chance I can see Nanami right now?"

"Sorry, but Mr Nanami is in a meeting right now. He can't be disturbed, would you like to leave a message?"

"No that's fine," he moved towards the desk and just past it, looking at the office door. "I only wanted to see who was out here before I get my guys."

What?

He held up a gun and moved fast enough to get behind you. "Why he would put a woman out front is beyond me. The Chairman's in there, isn't he?"

So that man inside with Mr Nanami was the Chairman?

You said nothing, making little micro movements towards your desk drawer. The weapon seemed as though bad luck had graced your desk, spending not even twenty four hours in your possession and you were already edging towards it to use it on a man you'd never met before.

There was a gun pointed at your head and you were as calm as you had ever been. Though what was the use in panicking?

The barrel of that gun pressed against your head. "Answer me, bitch."

"I don't know who you're referring to," so close now, the drawer handle in your reach.

"Don't fucking lie to me," he was trying to be as quiet as he could, teeth gritted and all. "I have four guys out there ready to storm this place and they'll take turns with you, believe me. So cooperate and tell me."

He was making threats like that already? He was either incredibly wet behind the ears to use something so drastic this early, or it was a bluff.

"Alright, I'll get the keys to the office."

The excuse was enough for the pressure of metal to leave the back of your head and allow you to open the drawer naturally and moved your hand around to feel for the knife's handle.

'If a person has possession of a knife when threatened, they better follow through in using it.' That was advice you had heard once from somewhere.

Might as well listen to it.

It all happened so fast, taking a hold of the weighted handle and moving forward a fraction so you could drive the blade into the man's thigh. The gun went off regardless by your head and the shot rang through your ears though it wasn't enough to stun you.

You weren't sure how you got up from your seat the way you did to draw the knife out of him and lunge again with the steel pushing onto his chest, enough to topple him off his feet and drag him to meet the hard floor with you on top of him.

The ringing vibrated your ear drums, tingling too much to notice Mr Nanami's office door open. You were on top of a man who threatened you with a gun and there was so much blood.

But he was still alive.

It wasn't shock. It couldn't have been. You were still coherent, you just couldn't hear much. The red on your hands was new, sticky and warm enough to keep you out of the moment until someone took a hold of your shoulders.

It wiped you out and into reality, grasping at what you had done in the present in front of your employer and a stranger who was eyeing you intensely.

"Can you hear me?" Mr Nanami shook you a little, his voice muffled somewhat. "Are you alright?"

"He threatened me- I didn't know what else I could do."

And now you were justifying yourself. You would do the same thing if there was a time machine to take you back.

"But are you alright?"

"I'm fine. There might be others outside," how were you talking so clearly right now with just your little rapid breaths at your lips? "He asked about the Chairman and said there are four others."

"Can you stand?"

"Yeah. I'm alright," the blood was a nuisance.

Mr Nanami lead you over to your chair and pulled the desk phone to his ear. "I'm calling Naoya, he'll be able to take you home."

"Don't let that ingrate in on this Nanami," the Chairman spoke for the first time.

"I can't leave until this is cleared up, she'll need to get home."

"I'll take her back, Uraume is waiting in the car," the Chairman approached the desk and folded his arms with purpose. "Naoya is a brat, he'd only mess it up. I'll make sure she get's home while you clean up the trash."

Wait. Clean up? Things were catching up to you. "Is he dead?"

Had you just killed a man? You should have been more freaked out about it. But you weren't.

"He's kicking for now. Shame. You should have aimed higher."

Right in front of you was a hand, the Chairman's hand. You made a note of the darkened polish adorning his manicured nails, black bands around his wrist.

You took it without question. "I'll bare that in mind next time I stab a man."

"Good. Nanami, call by tomorrow when this is sorted."

"Yes sir."

His hand was far warmer than you anticipated. He never let go until you were in the car, a sort of blur until he broke the silence.

"Care to explain how a civilian found their way into a vipers pit of the Yakuza?"

He was the Chairman, it was only respectful you answer him honestly. Right? "Money. I needed the money. I was aware who Mr Nanami was as soon as I saw him."

The world zipped by from the car window, unaware for the crime you had just committed. If the man wasn't dead, he was certainly gravely injured enough to warrant a prison sentence should anone find out. It was never discussed or mentioned by Mr Nanami or the Chairman.

It was more like an afterthought from yourself.

"Yet you still accepted the job offer anyway? And now you've stabbed a man with a gun. This life is hardly one to brag about when you're collateral."

"It doesn't scare me," only his reflection was in your periphery, you didn't turn your head to face him. "It's a job. I've had my fair share of hardships to know life isn't easy. Defending myself is something that comes naturally."

You could have sworn you heard him chuckle. "Defending yourself is far more difficult than people understand. It takes someone strong to do what is necessary."

That much was true. And that statement was enough to get your head turning to face him. Even in the dim light of the passing street lights, he was beautiful.

How did someone such as himself find his way into becoming a Chairman?

"Sometimes we're faced with difficult decisions when the hardest choice is the wisest. It's just something that has to happen."

The blood had dried along your fingers and began to crack and chip away leaving streaks of exposed skin at the joints. It would take more than just one shower alone to get all of this yuck off of you.

"You speak more truth than most of the men under my watch. It's refreshing."

"Sir, we've arrived," a voice from the drivers side came about to ground you.

"Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it."

The car door was suddenly opened for you, the driver bowing and their identity remained hidden. The other door opened and the Chairman approached you.

"I never got your name, Mr Nanami never told me."

"Sukuna. It's Ryomen Sukuna."

Even in the darkened sky of the night's glow tapered off with the neon signs of Shinjuku, he was still beautiful. You spoke your name too and offered a bow before taking steps towards the door to your apartment.

A quaint little ground floor, and it was all yours.

"Do you need assistance?"

"No, I'll be alright from here."

His eyes were in the back of your head as you wandered past him. "I'll be forward because it's not every day I meet a woman who pulls something so extraordinary to gain my attention like you did today."

"Hmm?" you turned and watched him from your front door almost, he made no attempt to follow you.

"Marry me."

"What?"

A proposal from someone you had spoken few sentences to was a first. But you didn't find yourself shying away from the subject.

"Marry me."

"I..."

The man in front of you softened his eyes, never judging you covered in another mans blood. "Think about it, and come to me with any answer you choose."

He bowed to you and turned towards the car, the driver opening the door to let him disappear into the darkness of tinted glass.

After that night, you wondered about that man and who he really was.

You gave him your answer several days later.

And it was a firm yes.

[scwheeler]

🩸🔪 ˖ ࣪⊹ — ‘MY TEARS RICOCHET’

pairing: ethan landry x reader

summary: miscommunication leads to the loss of ethan’s only lover and much regret

warning: blood, violence, stabbing, death

authors note: i’m a swiftie !! (lyrics are in italics)

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace

you sucked in air through your teeth as coldness took over your body. carefully your eyes drifted downwards to your stomach where a black object was. out of adrenaline, the pain didnt kick it until a few moments later. your body shivered in response to the sharp knife cutting through your skin and embedding itself into the side of your stomach.

you looked up, straight at your killer. the dark lights of the room making it almost impossible to identify who it was. but you saw the mask. the black and white ghostface mask that had been on the news nonstop since the late nineties.

'cause when i’d fight, you used to tell me i was brave

after running around the room to get away, fate finally caught up to you. even though you fought and fought, throwing lamps and chairs over the room to slow down your killer, it was inevitable.

the mask that your friends had warned you about. the one tara had gotten stabbed by, but survived. looking around for help you realized your unfortunate fate. there was no escape, no help.

and if i’m dead to you, why are you at the wake?

your killer didnt even stab you with the knife all the way. they stopped at two-thirds and you could feel their body tense up, almost regretting their decision.

your back was pressed hard against the wall and you reached around to keep yourself up but failed. your legs have out and you slid down to the cold hard floor while your killer stood there with a hand out where the knife had been. now the knife was skewed into your abdomen as you tried not to scream in pain.

biting your tongue, tears streamed down your face. you heard a heavy breathes coming from above. there was a gasp, a moment of surprise and regret following with a small whisper, “y/n..?”

cursing my name, wishing i stayed

look at how my tears ricochet

you put pressure on your wound and refused to pull out the knife since you watched all those survival tip youtube videos with mindy. she had taught you to never take it out or else you’d immediately bleed out. you remembered tara and anika laughing and joking that it was ridiculous. that it would never happen.

and i can go anywhere i want

the shadowy figure in front of you crouched down, kneeling before you. slowly they lifted their mask and revealed such a familiar face. the face that would remind you of home. the face you would kiss before going to sleep. the face would give you such comfort and love.

with blood rising in your throat, “ethan?”

anywhere i want, just not home

the same face that was now sitting before you with blood on his hands. your blood.

and you can aim for my heart, go for blood

but you would still miss me in your bones

ethan landry was reaching for your wound. the one he inflicted. you couldn’t believe your eyes and wanted to run away, avoid this confrontation but it was too late. he was inching forward but instead of the harsh interactions from earlier.

he was back to himself. handling with care and with a face of worry. “oh my god…fuck,” he whispered and panicked over the blood leaking down to the floor.

and i still talk to you (when i’m screaming at the sky)

and when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)

“no no you weren’t supposed to be here,” he muttered and tears started to form in his eyes. you could’ve laughed at the irony. your own boyfriend stabbing you after swearing he would protect you. suddenly the pain wore off and your body felt an uncomfortable lack of warmth with chills running down your back.

all of your weight was leaning on the wall behind you and your head followed. your hands fell to the ground and no more pressure was tended to wound except ethan’s. his efforts of trying to revive you were useless.

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace

he saw your phone tossed a few inches away and grabbed it, hurrying to call 911. he didn’t even realize he was still in the ghostface outfit or the blood that stained his hands.

the specks of blood on his face were getting washed off by the tears slipping from his eyes. “jus—just hold on! please y/n don’t give up…s-stay awake!” he pleaded and waited for the opposite end to pick up.

and so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

“hello this is 911, how can i help you?” the operator said. “my girlfriend needs help! her name is y/n y/l/n, she needs an ambulance she’s dying! she’s been stabbed please!” he shouted and continued to explain but your ears were drowning out the noise.

as your eyes roamed the room, the bright lights on the ceiling were making your eyes sensitive. you looked away and felt your vision blur. ethan noticed your limp body fading away, as his grip became firm as he let go of the phone.

you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

cursing my name, wishing i stayed

his attention completely fixed on you. “no y/n! fuck fuck fuck please just stay with me! they’re coming!”

your eyes shut and ethan shook your body but there was no response. there were sirens outside already but he could tell it was too late and you were gone. as much as he didn’t want to believe it, he held your body close to his.

you turned into your worst fears

his grief poured out in a flood of uncontrollable tears as he continued to pull you closer even though you already were. the hugs shared between you and ethan were for warmth and comfort, when one of you passed a test, leaving for a weekend trip, winning a game of just dance, or when he would instantly be knocking at your front door when you needed a shoulder to cry on.

but this was different.

there was no reciprocation and ethan was alone. his throat was tight and his breaths were short with his heavy sobs tearing through his chest. his voice was quavering and shaky, “this is all quinn’s fault—no no it’s my fault. you weren’t in this, this isn’t your fault—i’m sorry.”

and you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain

crossing out the good years

your unresponsive body relaxed in ethan’s arms and you felt at peace. while your head fell back, a tear slipped from your eye and trailed down your cheek.

and you're cursing my name, wishing i stayed

ethan ignored the footsteps of the police charging in and the sirens getting louder. his sobs flooded his ears and his cries turned into whimpers. the lingering sadness strangled his throat and he burrowed his head into your shoulder.

look at how my tears ricochet

this time he needed a shoulder to cry on.

[alibasnur]

My Friend's Widow

Pair: Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Words: 700-ish

Warning: Written in Sebastian's POV, angst, mention of sexual act, major character's death

Author's note: This has been sitting in my draft and i impulsively decided to post it before going to bed

“Today, I brought in some flowers for my friend’s widow. I cut them a little messier, just like how her blind husband used to do when he was alive. 

It was always both of them in that little house as the couple had no child. I remember how she used to tell me that she wanted several of them. But her husband despised the idea of having any at all. She must have loved him so much that she had a change of heart.

 

I wished she had given me the same mercy back then. She used to be my betrothed before she was my friend’s wife. I loved her and I treasured her in the best way that a foolish boy could do. I made a grave mistake of falling back into a deed that I had promised her not to step in, which also caused me and my friend to have a falling out.

Two years after that, I received the news about their marriage. I had never seen a bride so beautiful that it hurt me. A precious, blushing bride laughing in his husband’s arm. So beautiful, but she wasn’t mine.

It grew unbearable to simply look her in the eyes. I didn't stay much longer, just a simple congratulations and then I set off.

But I was glad. My heart sank so much that I didn’t have the strength to pick up a wand and set that wedding arch on fire. At least I didn’t make that mistake anymore. 

I knew what I’m capable of in my worst temper. But that time, I didn’t want to be the reason for her to cry. I wanted to be good for her. No matter how much I’m aching and suffering for it. 

I could be Merlin had she asked for it. But no, she wanted him instead.

I got struck by a high fever and in my sleep, I called for her name. A few days later, I picked myself up, forced myself some stale pieces of bread and water and I didn’t know why and what for.

Sometimes, It still terrified me to see her in the finest witches I came across. It was a bitter reminder that somehow I still belonged to her. She could live a life without me and I would be the one trying to numb myself from the hurtful thought of what things could’ve been.

At one point, a few years later, I could open the drawer and see the ring that she had so coldly returned with only a little sentiment. I thought that I had made up my mind. I thought that I could listen to someone speak of her, and feel no sting.

But as soon as the news of my friend’s passing was at my door, I came as quickly as a gust of wind. I found her, looking at me behind her mourning veil. Her arms reached out to me, and as I held her, I could feel every single wall I had built shatter. She said that she needed me to stay. So I stayed. 

She would call for me on her loneliest nights, I warmed her bed when it felt cold and empty, and I’ll do it gladly. After years of suffocating, I got to breathe her in. At this point, I would take anything. Her lips, her loving gaze, her skin that I could caress, even though she would call for her late husband’s name as I drove her to the peak. It felt like a stab through the chest, but I said nothing. The heartache that she inflicted on me felt as if it redeemed me, that maybe, i would be deserving of her again.

I would wait so patiently, until she comes to love me again. If not soon, then the year after. I would try to read the look on her face, behind that black, sheer lace of a veil, searching for a sign, waiting for it in every word that ever came out of her lips.

So I counted days of the year, but as my heart started to grow weary, today, she put her mourning dress back into the wardrobe, and she stared at me so lovingly that I couldn’t be mistaken.”

[iamumbra195]

Random One Piece incorrect quotes cause I'm bored

Some of these are modern au though

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

*Sanji's not there*

Usopp: HELP! I TOLD LUFFY I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK!

Zoro, pouring alcohol directly into a cereal bowl:

Zoro: And you thought I could help?

...

Luffy: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

Nami : Wasn't Zoro with you?

Zoro: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised

...

Law: I trust Mugiwara-ya.

Penguin: You think he knows what he's doing?

Law: I wouldn't go that far.

...

Sabo: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Ace, confused: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Sabo: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Luffy: edible

...

Nami: We need to get through this locked door. Usopp, give me your credit card.

Usopp: Here.

Nami, pocketing it: Thanks. Luffy, kick down the door.

...

Chopper: You know those things will kill you, right?

Zoro, pouring another glass of whiskey: That’s the point.

Sanji, smoking a cigarette: We’re trying to speed up the process.

Luffy: *Nods while eating raw cookie dough*

...

Robin: Why is Luffy so sad?

Nami: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes

Robin: And...?

Nami: He got Buggy

*Zoro cackling in the background

...

Zoro: Self care is actually getting into fights with randos in dark alleys.

Nami: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap!

Kin'emon, trying to be poetic: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!!

Usopp: Lmao self care is taking Luffy's birthday meat cake just so I can eat the frosting.

Luffy: If you touch my meat cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

Sanji, losing his mind: WHY IS THERE FROSTING ON MEAT?

...

Franky, about Jinbe: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the group.

Robin: Are we stealing them?

Brook: New or used?

Franky, cackling: Wonderful responses, both of you.

...

Smoker: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.

Sanji: Shit.

Usopp: Wait, three?

Smoker: Yeah?

Nami: OH MY GOD ZORO FELL OFF!!!

...

Kin'emon: Tonight, one of you has betrayed us.

Ashura: Is it me?

Kin'emon: No, it’s not you.

Denjiro: Is it me, Kin?

Kin'emon: It’s not you either.

Kanjuro: Is it me, Kin'emon?

Kin'emon, bleeding from several debilitating injuries:

Kin'emon, mockingly: Is IT mE kiN'eMOn?

...

Usopp: Can I be frank with you guys?

Luffy, confused: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Chopper: Can I still be Chopper?

Franky, snickering: Shh, let Frank speak.

...

Sabo: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Koala: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Sabo: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ROBIN-CHAN WITH ME

Hack, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

...

Law, walking into his submarine: Hello, people who do not belong here.

Zoro: Hey.

Sanji: Hi.

Robin: Hello.

Chopper: Hey!

Law: I gave you my vivre card for emergencies only!

Luffy, grinning: We were out of meat.

...

Sanji: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.

Luffy, drinking meat: Why do you say that?

...

Zoro: Do you take constructive criticism?

Nami: I only take cash or credit.

...

Koala: Why are you on the floor?

Sabo: I'm depressed.

Sabo: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ivankov, please.

...

Robin: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

*everyone looks ay Karasu

Karasu: What? How am I supposed to know?

Lindbergh: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.

Karasu: *sighs*

Karasu: You wouldn't be trapped

...

Vivi: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

Nami: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

Vivi: Yes!

Usopp: ... I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

...

Usopp: WHY. why did you give Luffy a KNIFE?!

Zoro, shrugging: He said he felt unsafe.

Usopp: Now I feel unsafe!

Zoro: ... would you like a knife?

...

Dragon: What did you do with the target's body?

Sabo : What didn’t I do with the body?

Dragon:

Sabo: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the corpse respectfully.

...

Luffy, texting Ace: Ace! Help I’m being kidnapped

Ace: Where are you?

Luffy: I’m with some strange person. In a car. Help.

Ace: I’ll call Gramps.

Garp, answering their cell: Y’ello?

Ace: Where’s Luffy? He texted me that he was being kidnapped.

Garp: Luffy? Whaddya mean, he's right next to me-

Garp, who shaved his head:

Garp: I’ll call you back. *hangs up*

Garp: THE NEW HAIRCUT ISN’T THAT BAD!

Luffy: WHO ARE YOU?!

...

*Ace, Sabo and Luffy sitting in jail together*

Sabo: So who should we call?

Ace: I’d call Gramps, but I feel safer in jail

...

Roger: Garp, my old arch enemy.

Garp: ... I thought I was your only arch enemy?

Roger: I have a life outside of you, Garp

...

Zoro: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container.

Luffy: The cow???

Zoro: What?

Sanji: *disgusted shudder* LUFFY, W H Y?

...

Usopp: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 billion berry?

Zoro: Nami can stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house and erase my debt

Luffy: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 billion.

Zoro: Good thinking.

...

Kin'emon: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night.

Denjiro: You were flirting with O'Tsuru.

Kin'emon: So what? She's my wife.

Denjiro: You asked her if she were single.

Kin'emon:

Denjiro: And then you cried when she said she wasn't

...

Marco: What time is it?

Ace: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out

Ace: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune*

Izou: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING

Ace, proudly: It’s 2 am

...

Luffy: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place.

Law: You people already know too much about me.

Kidd: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

...

Sabo, an enabler: Tell Ace about the birds and the bees.

Luffy: They're disappearing at an alarming rate.

...

Brook: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

...

Zoro: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

...

Law: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven’t decided yet' is typically a good response.

Bepo: Captain, no.

...

Law: Nothing in life is free.

Chopper: Love is free!

Luffy: Adventure is free!

Robin: Knowledge is free.

Nami: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

...

Usopp: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Luffy will and will not eat.

Franky: Grass? Yes!

Usopp: Moss? Yes!!

Franky: Leaves? Ohh, yes!

Usopp: Shoelaces? Strange but true!

Franky: Worms? Sometimes!

Usopp: Rocks? Usually nah.

Franky: Twigs? Usually!

Usopp: Zoro's cooking? Inconclusive!

Chopper: How did you… test this?

Usopp: You just hand him stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if he eats it, he eats it.

Chopper: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.

Nami: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SHOELACES WENT?

Robin: What about humans? He tried to eat Crocodile once

Everyone: ...

Usopp: I think I might be too afraid to ask

(Someone pls draw this one XD)

...

Betty: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?

Koala: *turning to Sabo* How tall are you?

...

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

That's it, this took forever to write lol

[maeedrg]

Satoru, Oh Satoru

Y/n’s goodbye letter

ᯓ★

Synopsis : In which you write and send a letter to your ex fiance, Gojo Satoru, before his deathly battle with Sukuna. Broken promise, he wishes to see you again, the love of his life, one last time before it’s too late. [The letter is the Mary’s goodbye letter to Arthur Morgan from RDR2]

Words count : 2k

Warnings : heavy angst, slight comfort, major character death, spoilers of the end of the manga, reader is called « wife » once.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : I love Red Dead Redemption 2, and the letter of Mary is haunting me. It’s been weeks since I wanted to write about it, so here we go, with Gojo instead of Arthur Morgan ! English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes.

“My dear Satoru,

You never showed up, and now, after looking at the newspapers I understand why. I don't imagine you will receive this letter but I nonetheless must send it.

Satoru, oh, Satoru. I was just starting to dream the silliest and softest of dreams. I miss you, and I will always miss you but I cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way.

When I am with you, the world makes sense but when we are apart, I see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape. I am so sorry, for everything, for everything long ago and for leaving you. There's a vulnerable man within you, Satoru, but he is wrestling with a giant. And the giant, wins, time and again. You've broken my heart, again, and I fear I have broken yours.

For that, I will never forgive myself but you must let me go now. I enclose a ring you gave me many years ago, when we were both young, not because I don't like it, but because I care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you. I hope, one day you will find some people in love who can use this, for it kept me thinking of you all these years, and I hope by returning it to you I can finally be free. So please, win, and come out alive.

Goodbye.

y/n”

Are those water drops ?

Satoru blinks once, twice, before realizing that tears roll down his rosy cheeks and wet down the paper. He slowly opens his mouth in a shuddering breath, knuckles tightening against the letter he was holding in his hands. He is crying, Gojo Satoru is crying. Heavens know that this man almost never cried since the day he was born. But the way his heart was hurting so much, each breath being a stabbing inhale, as if a dag was slicing open his lungs and cutting into pieces his poor sweet damaged heart, confirm it. Yes, he cries. He cries this forgotten moment, he cries you, he cries your love, lost in the nostalgia he feels.

The Strongest, no, Satoru, never thought he would lose the love of his life twice. The first time was when you left him years ago, three more exactly, and God it was his own damn fault. He knows it more than anyone else, more than you.

The second was today, when he opened this letter you sent him and read it 5, 6, 12, 23 times. Hell, at first he thought he was hallucinating when he received it this morning. Why ? Why today ? The day he was supposed to have no single regrets, because he knew it would be the last time he would be on earth. He prayed that you forgot about him, hated him, cursed him in your soul forever, so he could die without your and any regrets.

23rd of December. Tomorrow, it will be the 24th. Please, please, please. He doesn’t want to die now. Will he really win ? That was just a sentence said to reassure himself, to convince his students and his own heart that everything will be alright. But the “what if” came along, and he ended up writing letters to his students in case he would indeed lose tomorrow. Including you. His long lost love. His ex fiance.

But for fuck’s sake, he didn’t expect you to send him one before he could even finish writing yours.

That hurts, so damn much. Was he even breathing anymore ? He didn’t know. But he had to breathe, everyone wanted him to breathe and to stand up. They needed him. Everyone needed him. But all he wanted, in the end, was for you to need him. Even if he told you the contrary years ago. That was all a lie, to you and himself. Satoru made you leave him, but that was for your sake.

Marrying The Strongest meant having a deadly bounty on your head, the end of your peaceful love, and maybe the end of your own life. He never really regretted what he did, he preferred for you to be safe and sound, away from him. Even if he missed your pretty eyes, your oh so sweet lips, the warmth of your soul and the comfort of your arms.

But now, some hours before his last day on earth, he regretted it more than anything. In the end, he would have wanted to spend his last years in your company if it meant having this kind of death. God, he could have called you his wife. He wasn’t dumb, Satoru was far too smart for his own good. Tomorrow will be his last. There was no need to be delusional about it, but it hurts. It hurts so much. More than he wanted it to be. The Strongest never gets hurt, after all. Because he doesn’t allow it to happen.

He kisses the ring, the engagement ring, he gave you years ago before you returned it to him in this letter. He slowly closes his watery eyes, biting the inside of his mouth, lost in thoughts. He wanted to feel your lips against his one last time. He wanted to be in your arms one last time. He wanted to hear your name coming out of your mouth one last time. He just wanted to see you, before his battle against Sukuna. Was he egoistical to want that, after everything that happened in between the two of you, after the letter you sent ?

“I just… don’t care anymore,” he muttered, standing back up and softly sliding your letter against his still beating heart.

Seeing you was his last wish. May it be granted.

Some minutes after, barely 20, he was in front of your door. It was an unholy hour to grant you a visit, the clock ticking 11.58 PM. In two minutes it would be his official last hours on earth, Christmas Day. If Santa Claus was real, then you were the biggest gift he could ask for.

The moment you open your door, sleepy eyes, greasy pajamas, and then face distorting in utter disbelief when staring at your ex fiance standing right in front of you, time stops. Satoru couldn’t believe his own eyes. His Six eyes were useless, his soul was already screaming to him that the person in front of him was the love of his life.

“Satoru… ?” you whisper, unable to know if you were dreaming, or not. He died a little when he finally heard his name slipping out of your lips after so many years.

You can’t even utter another word, that his large frame is on you. His strong arms wrap around your body, cradling you in the depth of his chest and undying love for you. He inhales, you smell the same as he remembers. Oh, sweet Lord, how he missed this. He felt his heart beating again, his lungs working finally normally, he was breathing. Yes, he was breathing. Thanks to you. He never felt more alive in this moment. What a duality. A cruel duality.

“I did read your letter. Let me say my goodbyes to you too, y/n. One last time, I beg you,” he murmurs in the crook of your neck. Gojo Satoru never begs. Yet, here he was, ready to go on his knees like he did when he proposed to you, to implore one last blessing moment in your presence.

Your feelings were conflicted, you were in the arms of the man that broke your heart, and from whom you just made your goodbyes. Maybe that was mean of you, to send this letter the day before his battle against Sukuna. When you saw it on the news, you understood that it would be maybe your last time being able to reach to him. You told him what you needed to say. For you, that was final. But one thing that you didn’t take accountability for, was his soul wrenching love for you. And, in this small moment of peace before war, you decided to indulge in his vulnerability, no, yours. Wait, both of you were more vulnerable than you could ever be again.

“Satoru.”

“I missed you,” he whispers as he slowly lift his head, blue glossy eyes meeting yours intimately. Tears, rolling down. You couldn't fathom it.

“I’m so, so, oh so sorry. Do you forgive me for breaking your heart ?” His voice is like a whimper, and you feel a part of your soul breaking at his pleading. Your lips quiver.

“Yes, Satoru. And do you forgive me too for breaking yours ?”

“I never resented you,” he closes his eyes saying that, leaning his forehead against yours. That was unspoken, but you understood the depth of his words. After all, you knew him better than anyone else. He made you leave him, on purpose, and you were aware why he did that. You indeed left, he watched you doing it, unable to stop this tragedy from happening, because you both knew that marrying each other would have been probably the biggest dream and nightmare of your life. You both broke each other's hearts that day.

“I never did too,” you answer, closing your eyes.

“I love you, you know that, right ? Always did."

“I love you, Satoru. I know that you do. And…” you both open back your eyes at the same time, “I realize that loving you was my greatest curse, but your eyes grant me mercy. In them I see the salvation of my soul, but I know that your heart has already cursed me,” you finish in a breath coming from the depth of your being.

Two tears roll down at your answer. One from your eye, one from his. He sniffs, unable to suppress his emotions, and then slowly take out of his pocket two objects. First, a letter, bigger than the one you wrote him. It was unfinished, he didn’t have the time to. He softly puts it in the crook of your hand.

“Read it if I’m gone, if I’m not, then give it back to me in person," he asks you, his pearly white lashes getting wet from the tears in his eyes. You both knew deep in your hearts that you would never be able to give it back to him. Yet, you force a smile on your face.

“I promise.”

The second object, was your engagement ring. Satoru knew it was oh so egoistical of him to give it back, when you send it attached to the letter this morning. He refused to keep it. He still had his on his finger, he wanted you to keep it too.

You said in your letter that you refused to keep it anymore because you cared for it far too much and it reminded you too much of him. Satoru wanted you to remember him. He was sure that when he will die, people would forget about him, and move on. He came to accept that fact. People only cared about the farthest and the greatest grand Gojo Satoru, The Strongest. Once death would take this title from him, he would have nothing left, aside from you.

“Only you can carry my love. Never forget that. You said that you hope by returning it to me you can finally be free. For my christmas gift, let me take your freedom,” he pleads, no, begs. His hand was shaking as he gently slid back the ring on your finger, it was his ultimate wish.

A sob escapes your lips. You cursed him for doing that to you. But how could you be mad, when granting the death wish of your long lost fiance ? You look back at the shiny ring, and remember how you blessed Heavens the day he proposed to you. It hurts to know that you never had the chance to call him your husband. Your love was doomed from the beginning. The world was cruel, so cruel.

“I’ll feel alive as long as I’m in your heart, may you never forget me,” he finishes, tangling his fingers in yours.

His left hand cradles your cheek, and you slowly lean towards him. His lips melt against yours, in this final goodbye, last kiss, last shared moment, heart to heart beating in sync. Your souls intertwined, and Satoru wished he could just die right now in your arms, in the sweetness of your lips and warmth of your love.

“In another life, Satoru. In another life we’ll marry and love each other how we wanted to, just not in this one,” you whisper like a secret to the world against his lips. He smiles through the tears.

“I’ll gladly die with a smile, now.” At least he could die the same day as Geto Suguru, one year after him, joining him in death. At least he could die knowing you loved him no matter what. At least he could die knowing that in his next life he could be by your side, again.

You never forgot him. You kept the ring on your finger, until your last breath and till death do you part. It did.

THE END

[ak319]

Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

PART VII

➺ Part VI

"All rise."

The bailiff’s voice echoed through the small courtroom, which was modest and bathed in morning light. The room fell into a hush, and dust motes drifted in the sunlight streaming through wooden shutters as if reflecting the swirling thoughts that occupied every mind in the room.

Your gaze swept the space, pausing briefly on the witnesses seated to one side. Their unease was palpable, their shoulders stiff, eyes darting toward you.

It was then your eyes settled on him.

Rahim Jafari.

"You, you won't--" His voice cracked as he whimpered, clasping his trembling hands and avoiding your gaze.

"Promise me...you won't punish Uncle for...a-anything."

"Uncle? Are you talking about Habib or Samir?"

"H-Habib..."

"Alright, I promise. But, please, Rahim, you need to tell me where your parents are. It’s crucial we know. No injustice will be done to anyone, I give you my word."

And then he began talking...

You wished, God, how you wished, it was all a dream. A cruel nightmare that you would wake from. But every word from him pulled you deeper into a reality you could barely comprehend.

"I beg you! He--he wouldn’t! I don’t even know myself! But he would never do something like this! It--it m-ust have been the magic, right?! Maybe my father was doing it for days--and—and I didn’t know--an-d that’s what made him kill them!"

He broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. You didn’t hesitate, wrapping him in your arms as his small body trembled against you.

"Let it out, kid...let it out."

You held him tight, feeling the weight of his pain, and the gravity of the decision ahead.

That’s when you made the promise to yourself. Whatever course of action you would take, it would be the most important decision of your life.

"Begin the trial. Case number 1050, the victims, Basim Jafari and his wife, Zara Jafari." The court clerk's voice echoed through the room, his words sharp, the weight of them sinking in.

You already knew the details. You’d seen them firsthand.

Bodies found in a shallow grave at 11:30 am yesterday, Friday. Rahim had led you and your team to the site, where the earth had been disturbed, the soil fresh, the air still thick with the scent of death.

Stab wounds. Everywhere.

Blood--everywhere.

Nothing about the scene screamed that Habib—your Habib, the boy who would flinch at the mere mention of violence—could have committed such an act. The boy you had come to care for deeply, the one whose hands you’d trusted with your own heart.

But the evidence didn’t lie.

It took a while... to wrap your head around it all. Fuck. You weren’t sure if you ever would.

But here you were.

Monday. As the presiding judge of this case.

Biased, you knew. This was the first time you’d allowed personal feelings to interfere with your role. ‘The people don’t know. Dad’s disappointed, but I’ll face him later.’ Seeing Rahim in the state he was in, seeing his broken words still echoing in your mind, your own principles felt like nothing now. What were they worth when it came to protecting a boy so lost? Right now, that was all that mattered.

And then... your eyes went to the curtains, a faint rustle as they caught the soft morning breeze. The small divider behind where he...was made to sit behind. Hidden and protected for his own sanity.

Habib Jafari.

Your boots thudded against the ground as you entered his room, the familiar scent of him lingering in the space. You flicked on the lights, watching them hum to life.

'Ma'am, don't go to meet him alone.'

You ignored Odai's warning, the weight of his concern heavy on your mind, but you trusted your instincts. I would be the last person he harms. You could almost hear your own voice echoing in the silence. And besides... I’ve handled worse than this.

"(Y/N)... you are back..."

Habib slowly rose from the bed, his movements tentative but eager. Without thinking, you opened your arms, and he came to you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body felt like a balm to your frayed nerves. You held him tightly, the pulse of his heartbeat steady beneath your palm.

But as soon as he pulled away, you heard the soft hum of fairy lights. The delicate glow outside the window caught your attention—suspended in the garden, like stars in the dimming twilight. The same lights you had arranged for the small wedding you had planned, casting their gentle glow across the night.

Habib’s gaze followed the lights, blinking slowly, as if their warmth had made him forget for a moment where he was. A shaky sigh escaped his lips. His eyes shifted back to you, and in them, there was a mixture of happiness...and weariness as if he couldn't believe this was real.

Neither could you.

"I—I always... loved when... the houses were decorated for... weddings..." His voice trembled as he spoke, his words heavy with emotion. "I thought I would never see the day... that it would be for my wedding, (Y/N)..."

You bit your lip, fighting back your own tears. The weight of it all—his pain, the reality of what was happening—was too much. Gently, you guided him to the bed and sat beside him. Both of you needed a moment. It was all too much to process.

You turned to him, your hand reaching up to caress his face, and he instinctively leaned into your touch.

"Habib..." you began softly, but before you could finish, his eyes snapped open, wide with fear.

"Golrez."

Your heart tightened at the name. A frown tugged at your forehead in confusion. "You call me Golrez, (Y/N)... why aren’t you calling me that anymore?" His voice was frantic, desperate, as his eyes searched yours for something—anything—to anchor him.

His breathing quickened, and a look of horror spread across his face. "They-they cursed you! TH-EY CURSED YOU LIKE THEY WERE DOING TO ME! You’ve changed! You’ve changed, (Y/N)! You don’t look at me the same anymore!"

The words pierced through you like a knife. His screams of agony seemed to shake the room, his voice cracking under the pressure of his own torment. You reached out instinctively to console him, but before you could touch him, he grabbed your arms, his grip tight and shaking.

"THEY... they would kill me, (Y/N)! And then you... you would find someone else, right? Right?" His voice was pleading now, his eyes wild with fear.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but his anguish was so raw, so consuming. "Habib," you said, your voice firm but gentle. "Stop. No one is going to kill you. No one is going to take you from me. Not them. Not anyone."

His frantic eyes searched yours, looking for some kind of reassurance, some kind of proof that what he feared wasn’t true. But the fear was so deep, so ingrained in him, that your words barely seemed to make a dent.

"Please," he whispered, his voice small now. " You... you’d leave me for someone else, wouldn’t you? I’m not the same anymore. You don’t love me like you did."

You shook your head, moving closer to him, your hand cupping his cheek. "No, Habib. You’re still you. I see you, the man I’ve always loved. You’re not a curse. You’re not what you think you are. You’re not a...monster. Never were."

For a moment, his eyes softened, uncertainty flickering in their depths. But he still seemed so lost, so afraid of losing you. You pulled him into your arms, holding him close, your fingers threading through his hair, as you whispered over and over that you weren’t going anywhere.

"Golrez," he murmured again, his voice barely a whisper, as though speaking the name was the only thing that could keep him tethered to reality.

You held him tighter, knowing that for now, your words were the only thing you could offer him. You couldn’t fix this, not yet, but you could be there for him.

"C'mon, get up we have to go somewhere."

"W-where?"

"Um..to the market. Let's get your wedding attire."

"NO! NO! I am not leaving this room! THEY ARE STILL OUT THERE! THAT- HE- that djinn! That djinn will possess me (Y/N)! I am not--I AM NOT LEAVING!"

"NOBODY IS DOING ANYTHING BECAUSE THEY'RE DEAD, HABIB!" Your voice thundered through the room, and the force of it, your frame standing tall before him, made him cower against the bedframe.

"They’re dead... Habib... you... killed them."

His wide eyes filled with disbelief, and he shook his head violently.

"I didn’t! It wasn’t me-" His voice cracked, desperate. "It was Habib! (Y/N)... it was Habib! Yo-ur Golrez wouldn't do this!."

He slid to his knees, hands trembling as he grabbed your legs, looking up at you with those beautiful, broken, haunting eyes.

"I-... your Golrez won’t do that. But Habib will, THIS IS WHY I HATE HIM!... And (Y/N), they were bad... they were so bad to me... I couldn’t take it..." His words barely made sense, a mix of anguish and confusion that tore at your heart.

You reached down, your hand caressing his hair, trying to soothe him as he sobbed into your waist. You couldn’t help but join him in silence, your hands gripping his shoulders to ground both of you.

"You... you won’t leave me, right!? NO! NO! Please! Don’t let them take me away, (Y/N)! I--look! We’re getting married, right!? Please-"

You gently cupped his face in your hands, your gaze soft but firm. "Habib, it will be over. I promise."

But your calm words and touch did nothing to ease his spiraling panic.

"No... what--(Y/N)... I--I love you. I love you so much."

Your throat tightened. "I love you too, more than you can imagine. But... procedures... have to be followed. I am sorry..."

His eyes welled with tears, his face twisting in pain, but you couldn’t let yourself falter, not now.

Nothing could have prepared you for what came next. Habib was taken away by the guards, and you followed behind them in your own car, eyes never leaving the van that carried him. Each mile felt like an eternity.

"He was the eldest son of Kadir Jafari and Dana Jafari..."

Kadir Jafari.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," you spat, your voice rising with each word. "If only, instead of getting tangled in the web of superstitions, and hiding like a coward because of your own son, you'd have faced the truth... it wouldn’t have cost you everything. Your entire family, and your fucking reputation!"

Dana clutched her husband's side in fear, both of them bowing their heads in shame. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air.

"We--we swear we didn’t know... My judgment... got clouded by my own... fears, my belief in Basim's words, and I was too... busy with my own responsibilities at the time. I didn’t... pay attention to this."

"If you had," you interrupted sharply, your voice growing colder, "Habib wouldn’t be in this condition. Basim would still be alive--though, as much as I’d like to say he had it coming... God punishes for sins like this, both in this world and the hereafter, and both of them... got what they deserved." You took a deep breath, calming yourself just slightly before continuing.

"Then comes Rahim..." You stood, your boots clicking against the floor as you walked toward the elderly couple, your steps filled with purpose.

"You have no fucking idea how my heart clenches every time I look at that kid." The words tasted bitter as you spoke, your jaw clenched so hard you thought it might break. But you kept your voice steady, forcing yourself to remain in control.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, followed by a dry, humorless chuckle. You walked toward the window, staring out at the gardener trimming the bushes below. "What's the point of blaming you two anyway?" You muttered, almost to yourself.

"Please! Just... please save Habib!" Dana cried, her voice breaking.

"Maha, escort them out," you ordered coldly, cutting her off before she could say more.

"No! Ma’am! Ma’am-"

"See you in court." Your words were final, and their desperate pleas faded as they were escorted out.

Your gaze lingered on the gardener for a moment longer, his movements calm, indifferent to the storm inside the room. The stillness outside felt like a stark contrast to the chaos you felt within.

After reviewing everything, and listening to the testimonies, including those of Samir and his wife, who claimed they fled out of fear of Habib...

You couldn’t help but wonder: was it the same fear Habib had lived with every single day, from the time he was a child? Fear that he couldn’t escape, no matter how hard he tried?

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. The weight of the decision pressed down on your shoulders, but there was no turning back now.

"Based on the facts and medical records, it is clear that Habib Jafari suffers from Paranoid Schizophrenia. He had not been properly treated, which worsened his condition. His brother’s abuse also played a significant role in exacerbating it. Therefore, I declare..."

You paused, letting the words hang in the air, before continuing.

"Habib Jafari is innocent of the murders. He was not in his right mind. He will be treated and confined to a mental facility." Where, by God’s will, he will heal. "Rahim Jafari will also be offered intensive care and therapy. Kadir Jafari is sentenced to six months for his neglect. Samir Jafari and his wife Laila are sentenced to one year without bail for concealing the abuse in their home. Silence in the face of such horrors is as much a crime as committing the act itself, especially when it involves children."

You felt a cold sense of finality as you spoke the words, but you weren’t done.

"I am also issuing an order for an awareness program to be carried out across the village regarding mental health and disorders. I assign this responsibility to Dr. Fahim and Dr. Aisha." Both professionals nodded in acknowledgment.

"And it must be done effectively." You looked at them both sharply.

"Also, as much as speaking ill of the dead is wrong it is important that we still discuss this topic. And I am now speaking not as a judge of this case but...as your Deputy Commissioner so get this inside your head people.

Your eyes scanned the courtroom as silence fell over the room.

"Black magic," you began, your voice calm but firm, "is not a mere superstition. It is a dangerous force that preys on the vulnerable, twists their minds, and destroys families. Those who seek to wield such power, believing they can manipulate the very essence of life itself, do so at their own peril."

You paused, letting the words settle, then continued, your gaze locking with the accused.

"It is a sin, a heinous one. The use of black magic, whether for personal gain or to harm others, is a violation of the natural order and of God’s will. Those who resort to such dark arts must face the consequences of their actions. And if they cause harm, whether to a single life or to an entire community, they will not go unpunished. It is not just the physical damage it causes, but the spiritual degradation that comes with it. And those who use it to destroy others or bend them to their will… will be held accountable. No punishment is acceptable for it except death sentence."

You took in a breath and signed the stamped the paper handing it to the assistant at the side.

"Case closed."

Bang!

═════ ◈ ═════

"Ready, kiddo?" Rahim rushed to you with a giddy smile, his eyes shining excitedly as he clutched the basket full of trinkets--snacks, small tokens, and books. You couldn’t help but smile at his youthful enthusiasm, even amid everything they had been through.

You both settled into the car, the engine humming softly as you pulled out of the driveway of the bungalow. Rahim's gaze drifted between the basket in his lap and the window, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the photos inside the basket.

"Ma'a-"

"Aunty (Y/N), I told you to call me that. Don't be shy." Rahim chuckled softly, leaning back into the seat, his eyes finding yours. Despite being in your custody, he still acted shy. You wanted this intelligent and kind boy to have a good life and you will definitely give him that.

He looked at you, his voice quieter now, the lightheartedness shifting as something darker passed over his features. "Aunty...I--I remember being so afraid...of uncle, y'know...that night."

You swallowed, a lump forming in your throat as the memories of that terrible night rushed back. You didn’t want him to relive the worst moments, but you understood that he needed to speak. You exhaled slowly, choosing to listen, to give him the space he needed to heal.

"But...you never...showed any fear. How?" Rahim's voice was fragile, a stark contrast to the bravery he always tried to show.

"Well, the cheesy cliche answer is going to be that... love makes you stronger?" You let out a dry laugh, trying to ease the tension. "Pft. That's what people say, right?" You took a smooth turn, glancing at Rahim for a moment before continuing. "The logical one would be... that I’ve been trained all my life to deal with... every type of person, every calamity. I’ve always been like this. My dad raised me to be like a rock."

You kept your tone steady, though your heart was tight with the memories of how much you’d had to endure. "And Habib...he didn't do it consciously. It has been proven... there’s no way he would ever hurt me--or even you. And deep down, I know that. I can see that you know that, too, right? That’s why... you still defended him."

Rahim’s expression softened, and a quiet understanding passed between you. His eyes dropped to the basket in his lap, his fingers nervously tugging at the edge of the cloth.

"Because I love him too," he whispered, his voice full of the weight of his emotions. "I always have. He... didn’t deserve any of that... not an ounce." A tear slipped down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it away, his lips pressing into a rueful smile as he shook his head. "It’s over now, right? We’re all going to be okay?"

You nodded softly, your heart aching for the things Rahim had witnessed, for the boy who had lost so much, yet still loved with all his heart.

"I know I may sound harsh but since the wound has reopened I must tell you that even if your parents were alive right now...and they got caught doing that, they would still face death." Rahim barely glanced at you and nodded.

"I know...they...literally dug their own graves." Then followed a peaceful yet eerie silence. The hum of the engine pulls you both into a relaxed state.

"You are my ideal, y’know," Rahim continued, a soft sincerity in his voice. "I wanna be like you. And even raise my kids to be like you."

You chuckled, the sound light and warm. "You little brat, already thinking of marriage, huh? Focus on your studies, mister." You ruffled his hair playfully, earning a whiny protest from him.

"I will, I will. But... it’s just that... you’re so strong, Aunty," Rahim mumbled, his head leaning against the window, his gaze distant for a moment. "I want to be that strong too."

"You are already stronger than me Rahim, you are."

The car ride fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of the conversation settling between the two of you. You arrived at the facility not long after, and you both got out of the car, walking toward the entrance with a quiet determination.

The nurse greeted you as you walked in, and Habib’s face lit up the moment he saw you both. He stood up from his chair, his movements still a little slow, but his smile was genuine, warm, as if seeing you brought him a kind of peace he hadn’t known in a long time.

He didn't remember much things but he always remembered you both....

The two people who showed him real love...

He also remembered bits of that night. The blood the screams...the satisfaction and surprisingly...he didn't feel any guilt. He tried to...but couldn't. It was as if the kindness that shrouded his heart seemed to evaporate when it came to those who wronged him...who tried to take away his happiness. Keep him away from you. He won a battle in his mind that he won't ever sing the praise of in front of anyone and that is...he didn't regret what he did and for you, he could go through that night a thousand times over.

“(Y/N), Rahim..." His voice was soft, but it held a deep affection, a recognition that made your heart race.

"Hi, Habib," you greeted him with a smile, stepping closer as Rahim gently placed the basket of gifts on the table.

"Look what we brought for you!" Rahim’s voice was full of enthusiasm as he pointed to the items in the basket. "Snacks and lots of them!." He added with a wink, his eyes still a little damp from earlier.

Habib hugged both of you, his hand never leaving yours. After Rahim shared every story from his school, the room fell into a quiet silence, broken only by Habib’s meek voice.

"(Y/N)... please, take me with you today. I am doing better now." Habib's voice was soft, yet full of longing, his eyes bright with a flicker of hope. He looked at you earnestly, as if each word he spoke was a plea, a wish for something more, something he was desperate to reach for.

Rahim, too, glanced over at you with an expectant expression. His eyes mirrored the same yearning, the same desire to see Habib back to the life they had known before everything fell apart.

You felt your heart ache at the sight of both of them, at the way Habib looked at you like a child longing for reassurance. You knew he was healing, but the road had been long, and two days still felt like an eternity for him.

"Habib, just a few more days," you said softly, your voice steady but gentle. "Then it’s over. I promise."

"Promise?" The word left his lips in a breathless whisper, as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His eyes were searching yours, wide and vulnerable, desperate for the assurance that you would keep your word.

And before you could say anything more, Habib leaped into your arms, holding you tightly as though afraid you might disappear if he let go. The force of his embrace took you by surprise, but you wrapped your arms around him just as quickly, grounding him in the way you always had.

“I promise, Habib,” you whispered, your voice low and soothing. “Just a little longer, okay? You’ve come so far. We’re so close. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”

You could feel the tension leave his body as he buried his face in your shoulder, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Thank you… (Y/N)... I feel like I’ve waited so long...”

You kissed the top of his head, holding him as tightly as he held you, your heart beating in sync with his. You knew this moment wasn’t just about the days left, it was about everything you had fought for, everything you had been through together. The future was waiting, and though it would still take time, you knew it would be worth it.

Rahim watched the two of you, his own heart full. A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched Habib, so fragile yet so strong in your arms. The healing had already begun, not just in Habib but in all of you, and this was just the beginning.

═════ ◈ ═════

Then one day, you both decided that the time had come. Habib was healing, his heart and mind slowly piecing themselves back together. You didn’t need a grand ceremony. You didn’t need anyone else but each other.

And so, in the quiet of your bungalow, with the soft light of the setting sun streaming through the windows, you both exchanged your vows in a simple ceremony. Rahim stood by your side along with your parents, the only witnesses to the sacred bond you shared.

Habib, still finding his way back to himself, took your hand with trembling fingers, his voice steady but full of emotion as he said the words you had longed to hear.

“I will love you, (Y/N), for as long as I breathe. Forever."

With that, you both were joined in marriage, and in that moment, the future was wide open, full of promise and hope.

"I love you, too," you said, your heart full of everything you had longed to say.

As the ceremony ended, you both stood together, hands intertwined. You stepped out into the garden, where fairy lights twinkled in the trees, the same lights that had decorated the bungalow weeks ago. The air was still and quiet, save for the soft hum of the night, as you walked hand-in-hand with the man who had once been lost, and now was home.

You watched him leaning against the veranda's doorway as he giggled like a child taking in the decorations and the fresh air, the calm quietness and relishing now being bonded with you.

"Kay now, Habib, come we need to rest." He ran over and held your hand as you guided him to your--now his too--room, where he once again became giddy seeing the decorations. It was as if he...he was born again.

"I love this so much (Y/N), and I love you more." You stalked to him and kissed his forehead and then lips, the kiss being gentle and reverent.

"Now...you are finally home."

Indeed he is. Your Golrez is home.

The End.

(AN: Lemme know ur thoughts >.< and those who followed the story from the start, much love to u guys, and tysm for the support, Peace <3)

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Spoilers ahead. Not proofread. Rush translation.

Mitsuki: "I have so many things I want to ask you and talk about."

Through my blurring tears, his profile looked pale, and the hand I brushed against my cheek felt cold.

At that moment, as I fervently wished for his awakening, his fingertips moved slightly.

Mitsuki: "Galileo!!"

His eyelids slowly opened, revealing his amethyst eyes.

His gaze wandered for a while, then he tilted his head and looked at me.

Galileo: "You..."

Mitsuki: "You've regained consciousness! Thank goodness, I'm so glad."

Feelings that cannot be put into words well up from the depths of my chest, overflowing as tears.

His cold fingers brushed against my cheek, awkwardly wiping away my tears.

Later, after some time had passed,

Sailor: "Hey, Drake! You should be doing the new guy's job."

Drake: "Aye, aye, sir!"

Drake: "But first, let me finish this drink."

Sailor: "Hey, that's my wine!"

Drake laughed as he deftly avoided the sailor who tried to take back the bottle.

Drake: "Haha! Never let your guard down. There's nothing Captain Drake can't steal!"

Sailor: "Who said you're a captain? You're just named after some big shot in the English Navy."

Sailor: "By the way, are you from England?"

Drake: "No, I'm from France now."

The sailor tilted his head in confusion as Drake laughed softly and turned his gaze to the open sea.

The horizon stretched out endlessly, with no land in sight, but he thought of the place where his comrade and Mitsuki were.

Drake: "For someone like me who never had a place to call home, it's strange to think I now have a land to return to."

Drake: "Maybe after I sail around the world, I'll show my face there again."

With those words, Drake raised the wine bottle towards the sea.

One day, sometime after Galileo awoke, I visited the mansion.

Mitsuki: "Wow, this bread smells delicious! Thank you."

Sebastian: "I'm glad you like it."

The warmth of the freshly baked bread brought an involuntary smile to my face.

Though I still resided in the hideout, I would occasionally visit everyone.

Napoleon: "How's Galileo doing?"

Mitsuki: "His health seems to be improving a lot. He can even get up and go for walks now."

Even after narrowly escaping death, his body was still being ravaged by the founder's miasma.

But ever since he woke up, he's shown signs of a steady recovery.

Napoleon: "I see. I was worried, but I guess this is a miracle."

Mitsuki: "Yeah."

(It's a miracle Galileo himself created.)

(His strong will, even at the cost of his own life, must have led to this fate.)

I was just letting Napoleon and Sebastian know I'd drop by again when I heard some quick footsteps approaching.

Isaac: "Mitsuki, wait."

Mitsuki: "Isaac?"

Isaac came up to me, fiddling with his hair as he spoke.

Isaac: "I don't know what that guy plans to do next, and this is just my wish, but..."

Isaac: "Please tell Professor Maury we're waiting for his return."

Mitsuki: "----!"

Napoleon: "A school where Newton and Galileo teach? That would be a competition of wisdom."

Sebastian: "I feel like attending university myself."

Isaac: "Don't tease me. That's all I wanted to say. See you."

Mitsuki: "Thanks, Isaac! I'll be sure to let him know."

(I hope Galileo and everyone can build a new relationship.)

With such hopes, I couldn't help but feel excited.

I found myself lost in thought after leaving the mansion and walking down the main street.

(As Isaac said, what will we do now?)

What came to mind was the moment Galileo woke up.

------------Flashback-----------

Galileo: "Did I survive?"

Galileo: "Even though I was ravaged by the miasma and stabbed by Drake's knife?"

He gazed at his palm in wonder, as if he couldn't believe he was still alive.

Mitsuki: "Everyone at the mansion and the old castle did everything they could to help you."

Mitsuki: "And Comte said that perhaps it was because you were a dhampir that you were saved."

Both the miasma and the knife are dangerous for vampires, but Comte suggested that perhaps Galileo's human side helped save his life.

(Although the truth is unknown, as long as Galileo is alive, that's what matters.)

But...

Galileo: "After trying to destroy the world and being rejected by it, did I survive again?"

I took his hand in mine as he muttered self-deprecatingly.

Mitsuki: "Galileo, let me tell you again."

Mitsuki: "I love you."

Galileo: "........."

Mitsuki: "Even if the world rejects you, I will continue to seek you."

(I want to accept every part of you.)

Mitsuki: "I'm not asking you to respond to my feelings. I just want you to stay alive."

Galileo: ".........."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(He didn't say anything back then.)

I wanted to stay by his side and support him to make him happy.

(But what are Galileo's thoughts on the future?)

When I returned to the hideout, Galileo was by the window, gazing outside. He turned to face me as I entered.

Mitsuki: "I'm back. Look, Sebastian gave me some bread."

Galileo: "Mitsuki."

His rich, low voice called my name, and his eyes captured me.

Galileo: "I want to talk with you for a bit."

He led me to the garden.

The sunlight streaming down made the pure white flowers shine.

He knelt and gently caressed the petals of the red flowers.

Galileo: "Looking at this red flower brings back the sorrow of the dhampirs I've seen. Their pain still lingers in my mind."

Mitsuki: "Yeah."

Though I haven't dreamed of dhampirs recently, seeing the white flowers stained with the color of blood still hurts my heart.

Galileo: "I wanted to save them. I wanted to do something for the friends and family I lost."

Galileo: "In the end, that wish didn't come true."

Galileo: "I thought that if I ended this world entirely, all the sorrow would disappear."

Galileo: "Carrying everyone's regrets and achieving destruction had become my reason for living."

He spoke as if reflecting on his past, then turned his gaze towards me.

Galileo: "But some time after I woke up, I saw a certain scene."

(A certain scene?)

What Galileo mentioned was an interaction I had with Miguel a few days ago.

------------Flashback-----------

Miguel: "Big sis!"

On the day I was visiting Mireia's grave, I ran into Miguel.

He is currently living with a pureblood couple, thanks to Comte's arrangements.

Mitsuki: "Miguel, it's been a while. Huh?"

Puppy: "Woof, woof!"

I widened my eyes in surprise as I recognized the brown puppy he was with.

Mitsuki: "This puppy..."

Miguel: "I found him a little while ago. He was wandering alone in the city, and I couldn't just leave him."

Miguel: "I brought him today to meet Mireia. His fur is chestnut-colored, just like her hair."

This puppy was the same one Sidereus had protected and whose injuries I had treated.

When I told him this, his blue eyes also widened in surprise.

Miguel: "Really? That's amazing! Both this puppy and I were helped by everyone."

Mitsuki: "Yeah. It's like a miracle that such small events connect in this way. It feels like a fortunate coincidence."

(No, this might be what we call destiny.)

Even if what we can do at the moment seems trivial, it eventually leads to new happiness.

It would surely help heal suffering and sorrow little by little.

Mitsuki: "Miguel, if it's okay, could you take this?"

Miguel: "What is it? Wow, a bird made of paper."

Mitsuki: "It's an origami crane. I folded it, thinking of Mireia before coming to the grave. Normally, you would fold a thousand of them."

Mitsuki: "In my hometown, we fold them with wishes or to remember those who have passed. It can also be a symbol of peace."

I imbued it with a wish that no more sorrowful events would occur.

Miguel: "A symbol of peace."

He placed the origami crane with its wings spread on his palm and smiled gently.

Miguel: "Thank you, big sister. I'm sure Mireia will be happy, too."

Mitsuki: "I hope so."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(Galileo was there at that moment.)

Galileo: "Watching your interaction with the boy reminded me of my past conversations with my father."

Galileo: "As you said, the root of my desire was not destruction."

Galileo: "The hatred within me hasn't disappeared."

Galileo: "Humans and vampires alike are foolish, and the endless conflicts in this world will still fill me with indescribable anger. But..."

Galileo lifted his head and looked directly at me.

Galileo: "Will you stay by my side?"

(.......)

Galileo: "You're the reason I'm alive."

Galileo: "Even if anger and hatred drive me again, with you by my side, I will surely remember my dreams."

Galileo: "Only you can lead me to my true desires."

His touch was as cold as always, but his eyes were filled with warmth, like when he gazed at the stars.

(His eyes are seeking me.)

Galileo: "I know it's selfish of me to ask you this after hurting you, and I know that my hatred and regrets still remain in my heart. But still, you need to choose. Will you stay with me or let go of this hand?"

I could feel his sincerity and earnestness as he revealed his innermost feelings. I grasped his hand firmly.

Mitsuki: "The answer is clear."

Mitsuki: "I already said I would continue to seek you out."

Why are tears welling up in my eyes?

Receiving his feelings, I spoke with a voice trembling with joy.

Mitsuki: "Galileo, I love you."

Mitsuki: "Please let me stay by your side. No matter what happens, don't let go of this hand."

Galileo: "Mitsuki."

He stood up, his expression softening gently.

Galileo: "I love you, Mitsuki."

Galileo: "I won't let you go. My love for you is true."

As if to confirm our feelings, we gently kissed, surrounded by the beautifully sorrowful and ephemeral white flowers.

Mitsuki: "What are you going to do now?"

I asked while snuggling close to him on the bed.

He hesitated slightly before speaking.

Galileo: "I can only live by seeking the truth. I plan to return to being a university professor and pursue academic studies as I did before."

Galileo: "Also, Drake will return to this place."

Mitsuki: "You're right. Hehe, Isaac will be happy."

He softened his expression, but he let out a faint sigh.

Galileo: "But I might fall into despair again, and my heart could be trapped by distorted desires once more."

Mitsuki: "When that time comes, I will accept it. All your anger, hatred, and sorrow."

Galileo: "Mitsuki."

Galileo: "Thank you."

Galileo: "This time, I hope I can remember the true wish you made me realize."

Galileo: "I hope our journey from here can become a bridge between the human and vampire worlds."

Mitsuki: "I'm sure it will."

(You’re neither a heretic nor someone to be persecuted.)

(You’re simply a person who earnestly wishes for peace. That is who you really are.)

Suddenly, Galileo leaned his head on my shoulder.

His gesture felt like he was seeking comfort, and it made my heart race.

Galileo: "What about you? What will you do?"

Mitsuki: "What will I do?"

Galileo: "Yeah. I have no intention of letting you go, but..."

Galileo: "With the door, you can return to your original world—the country and time you were born and raised in."

(So there's a way for me to go back.)

Though I realized this when he mentioned it, my resolve didn't waver.

Mitsuki: "My place is already by your side."

Galileo: "........."

Mitsuki: "I can't imagine living in a world without you."

Mitsuki: "I'll be with you forever."

Galileo: "Forever, huh?"

Galileo: "It's like an eternal vow."

He placed his hand on my cheek and looked into my eyes.

As I was mesmerized by his happy smile, he gently stole a kiss.

Mitsuki: "Nn..."

He repeatedly showered me with kisses and touched the scar on my forehead. 

Mitsuki: "Ah, that's right. There's something I've been wanting to ask you."

Galileo: "What is it?"

Mitsuki: "When did you realize I was the child you saved from the accident long ago?"

Galileo: "That? I realized it the day you had a fever."

Galileo: "The story you told me about your lifesaver and the scar on your forehead matched my memory."

With a nostalgic, gentle smile, he began to speak as if unraveling memories from long ago.

Galileo: "Among the friends, family, and dhampirs I couldn't save, you were the one I could finally rescue."

Galileo: "That was a small light for the powerless me."

Galileo: "Even though I lived in despair and was consumed by destruction, somewhere in my heart, that light remained."

Galileo: "Until it led me to this moment."

(The past connects to the present.)

Whether this encounter was a destined fate or a series of coincidences and choices we've made, I don't know.

(But now, you're alive before me.)

(This joy and this truth are everything.)

Once again, we leaned toward each other, sharing yet another kiss.

As he undid the buttons on my blouse, Galileo also loosened his collar.

The cold touch of his fingers gradually warmed, making my heart race.

Galileo: "Haaa, Mitsuki."

Mitsuki: "Nnn. It's strange to think that I would meet the person who saved me back then again like this."

Mitsuki: "Actually, you were my first love."

Galileo: "Your first love? Even though you had forgotten my face?"

Mitsuki: "Don't mention that, please."

He let out a small laugh and lifted me onto his lap.

Galileo: "Then, make sure you never forget what happens from now on."

Galileo: "Just as you sought me out, I will seek you."

His beautiful, amethyst eyes looked up at me, drawing me in.

(Beautiful.)

I wanted to keep looking at him forever. I wanted him to look at me forever.

Mitsuki: "Please seek me, Galileo. Let me take in everything about you."

(And let me wrap you in my love.)

Galileo: "I love you, Mitsuki."

Galileo: "Even if the world rejects me, your love will keep me alive."

Galileo: "Like the stars that revolve, this love is eternal."

Like the moon and the sun, which revolve and transcend time, we have met again.

Embracing all the sorrows and the newfound affection, I will always see the true you.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Romantic End

[vroomvroomcircuit]

Do Not Enter is written on the Doorway

(A/N): A personal thank you to @foreveralbon for reading over certain parts and give feedback and ideas

Summary: Max helps his girlfriend through her anticipatory grief

Warnings: Talking about the future death of a family member, this is sad, but Max is the greatest comforter

Wordcount: 2.3k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ______________________________

Some news gives you this warm feeling in your stomach that slowly spreads over your chest and into your head and extremities. You smile, your brain barely able to keep up with the immense joy you feel. It’s like you could hug the whole world at once, this feeling giving you superpowers beyond imagination. That immense excitement, that’s a feeling you never want to lose.

This is what good news gives you.

But nobody talks about the stabbing pain you get in your heart upon receiving bad news. The sudden 100 pounds heavy weight settling into your stomach. The coldness you feel in your hands and feet never are mentioned. The spinning in your head, having to realize that after hearing what you have been just told, nothing will ever be the same.

You immediately wish to be the person you were moments ago, before your brain chemistry has been changed forever. Nothing is better than being in that beautiful bliss of unsuspectingness. But you can’t go back, you only get to mimic being that person in the first few moments after waking up, before the memory sets back in. The damage has been irreversibly done.

This feeling after receiving bad news is the one (Y/N) has been most familiar with during the last couple of weeks. One of her close family members is terminally ill and they are in a state where their symptoms are only managed after being taken into hospice care almost immediately upon receiving the diagnosis. They will be sick for the rest of their life expectancy.

For her, it’s like jumping through burning hoops with a broken leg every day ever since. She wants to be a good daughter to her mother, who relies on her for support. (Y/N) wants to be the good family member she usually is, spending as much time with them as possible.

But she also wants to be a good girlfriend to her Max. She wants to be with him at every race, cheer for his successes and support him through his losses.

Being all that and staying on top of her own feelings, that is not doable.

Max sees it. He sees the circles under her eyes grow. He sees the hunch in her back, yet the tension in her shoulder. He can’t remember the last time she smiled at him with those smiles that take his breath away and make him feel warm and fuzzy inside. Max misses her laugh, always sounding like music to her.

He sees it all, but feels helpless. Powerless. Something he swore to himself to never be again. This ever so disabling feeling, making your limbs heavy and your heart sink every time you think about it. And your brain never stops thinking about it. It’s going over and over again about the situation, trying to find an angle where he can finally get through to her. But everything he tries feels for naught.

In the moments where he hears her cry in the middle of the night, thinking Max is soundly asleep without a single worry, he is thankful to never have to experience what his girlfriend is currently going through. So he tries to make it better, even if it is just coming from a distant place, since she doesn’t let him close, neither emotionally nor physically.

During nights spent crying, Max turns around to her and hugs her closely to his chest, acting like he just needs his partner cuddled to him in his sleep. He takes over all the household chores, claiming “Oh, I just saw that we needed to wash a few clothes” or “I had some downtime, so I tried to make myself useful” not wanting to shame (Y/N) for lacking.

Because if your head is full of emotions, there is no strength left to do physical things. Max knows that out of personal experience, from a life where you are constantly under extreme pressure.

Still, he tries to get through to (Y/N), missing the person he fell in love with. “Hey, I thought about going out for dinner tonight? Just you and me at your favorite place with that dress you love so much?” Max asks her as she puts her shoes on to run off to work. He is hopeful, it’s an offer she never has said no to. On the contrary, he kind of expects her to let the second shoe in her hand fall to the ground to put her arms around his neck and thank him over and over again.

But to his shock, she does no such things. The young woman puts the other shoe on and shakes her head. “I don’t feel like going out at the moment. I will stay late at the hospice anyway after work, the doctor said that-” Her voice cracks. Max steps towards her, but she waves him off. “We don’t have much time left. And I want to take the time to prepare for, you know, it.”

Max nods, even though he does not understand her point. Not yet at least.

(Y/N) presses a quick kiss to his cheek before exiting the house in what seems like a great rush. She leaves a flabbergasted dutchman behind.

This was the first kiss he hasn’t initiated for several weeks now (22 days to be exact, although who's counting?). But the subject of preparing for someone’s death still doesn’t let him go. Not when he feeds the cats and cleans the kitchen. Not when he trains for the upcoming race on the simulator and in the gym.

The thought of trying to prepare for the inevitable is unfathomable to him. Isn’t the fear of getting stuck in your head greater than missing the current moment with that person?

His mind still circulates around this topic when he unfreezes some pre-made meals that are with his diet and to (Y/N)’s taste. He knows not to warm hers up already, he made that mistake quite a few times, just for the food to turn cold while it is waiting to be consumed by her.

Their habit of eating all to most meals together diminished to one dinner once every other week. That’s something else he misses. Just spending quality time with his partner. Still, he does not want to be demanding towards her. He is understanding of her situation and knows that it won’t be like this forever.

He already sits at his computer set up, playing a few rounds of a game to calm down before going to bed when (Y/N) enters their quarters. Max immediately greets her, clocking in the exhaustion in her face. “Hey, welcome back!” He softly says. “I’ll heat up your dinner. You can take a shower or a bath. Or sit down in the living room and put a show on. I’ll bring you your food.”

But (Y/N) just stares at him. He halts in his tracks, waiting for her answer. But he never gets one. Instead, his girlfriend bursts out in tears, sobs and snot.

Quickly Max gathers her in his arms, gently rocking her while drawing circles on her back with his fingers. He tries to maneuver them onto the couch in the living room, getting her sat in his lap with her legs straddling his thighs.

Now, to say the Dutchman is shocked by that outburst would be a lie. He has seen how much (Y/N) ran herself into the ground. It was just a question of time when all of the built up emotions found their way out. Between wanting to be the perfect daughter and the perfect family member, she forgot to be her imperfect self.

Yet, Max hasn’t expected today to be the day. Today has been so unassuming. There were no visible signs during their morning that could have prepared Max for the breakdown.

Not that he needed to prepare in the first place. Max has every tool he needs for this exact situation in close proximity. He throws a heavy blanket over them and hands (Y/N) a stuffie that coincidentally found its home permanently on that couch a few weeks ago. The plush lion itself is weighted with beans, being a nice pressure on her chest.

He continues to rock them back and forth and murmurs sweet things into her ears. His hands draw soothing circles and other shapes on her back. At one point he starts to trace letters.

“I love you too”, (Y/N) mumbles into his hair, her voice still tear stricken. “I love you so much, I can’t imagine a world without you or your support or your love or your… everything.” Max tightens his hold on her. She knows how to interpret that one. It’s his non-verbal way of saying how much she means to him.

They sit there for several more minutes in silence with Max listening to her breathing evening out. “Do you want some tea? I stocked up on your favorites. I can heat up your dinner during that.” The young woman nods yes, sliding off his lap and cuddles into the corner of the couch.

Max quickly puts the tv on, leaving on some random show to stop the eerie silence and quieten down the thought spiral in (Y/N)’s head.

He tries to be as fast as possible, until his phone rings. His girlfriend sent him a message, asking if they can share that frozen meal. Max’s heart clenches, realizing they finally have another dinner together. Of course, he obeys her wish and brings two forks along with two mugs on a tablet to the living room.

“Here is the food and drinks and I got some of your favorite chocolate earlier”, he says in a soft voice. (Y/N) smiles, his thoughtfulness is enough to change her mood.

In unity they share the meal and catch up over peas and carrots. With mugs in their hands they cuddle close to each other and pay attention to the movie that’s playing as soon as the food is gone.

“I’m scared to lose them. But I am even more scared to forget to cherish the time we still have together.” (Y/N) starts speaking into the dimmed room. Max looks down to her, showing his girlfriend has 100 % of his attention.

“You know, it hurts to see them hurting. And I know they will only get worse, which is weird to know. I am already hurting from an event that hasn’t even taken place. We also know that they will die soon. And I am already grieving them. I sit in the same room with them, talk and laugh and think ‘this will not be possible very soon’ and it is so… fucked up. Because I don’t want to think about this, they are still here. But I already miss them. I miss the old version of them, I will miss the current version of them and I’m dreading their future version. And I am hurting all the time and I kind of don’t want to see them, because how they are right now is the way I want to remember them. I feel selfish, because it’s all just about me meanwhile they are literally dying under our hands.”

Max realizes three important points at this moment.

He is very lucky to have never lived through her situation, watching a loved one dying. This must be another kind of hell on earth that he does not wish upon his greatest enemy. Seeing how his girlfriend, who is the strongest person he knows, struggles to the point of a mental breakdown, shows Max that he would not be able to live through these circumstances the way she does.

(Y/N) is under too much pressure, trying to be a good family member, a helpful co worker and an attentive girlfriend. He feels like he failed her by elevating more of that pressure, making her take some time off from work and reassure (Y/N) that he can support them financially as long as she wants him to, so she can spend more time with her family.

He voices his third conclusion out loud. “Several emotions and feelings can be true at once. You can be thankful for the time you got left and still feel bad about their current condition. You’re allowed not wanting to see them to protect yourself. Sometimes, being selfish sounds like the worst thing you could do to outsiders, but the best decision for yourself. It’s up to you entirely. Don’t feel bad for your anticipatory grief, it is normal. Your brain wants to prepare itself for the end.

And no matter what you will do or where you are going, I’m always at your side and support all your decisions. In this house we support (Y/N)’s rights and wrongs.”

Her laugh makes Max’s heart lighter. He knows the upcoming weeks and months will not be easier than the previous ones. But he is aware that they will get through it together.

“Will you read to me?” (Y/N) looks at him with her puppy dog eyes, something they both know he can’t resist. “Ok”, he says after letting out a sigh, ”Get your Faye smut book. But only because you had a hard day. Next time, you will read to me ‘how to build a car’.”

Before Max even ends his sentence, (Y/N) launches herself from the couch and runs to get her book from her bedside table.

After an evening like this, none of them wants to have it any other way.

[frostsinth]

Your Heart's Got Teeth - Pt. 5

Part 1|2|3|4 - Masterlist

Another part. Yay! CW: blood and stuff. They go hunting in this piece.

Let me know what you think. New parts every Friday. Just filling in a few gaps but mostly all written out for regular updates. Enjoy!

-----

“Calliope!”

I jerked from my sullen thoughts at the sound of my name. Slowly sitting up from my makeshift bed in the barely standing attic. I had been hidden up here for the better half of the last two days. Wallowing in my guilt and the lingering heat from my last close encounter with an orc. Berating myself for my idiocy. How could I be so stupid, getting caught up in…

I nearly groaned again at the reminder. Dropping my head into my hands. Finding the same thoughts that had been circling my head over and over all night.

How could I let him kiss me like that, knowing that he was all but solely responsible for the death of half the village? If not directly, then by association alone? And why did I let him touch me like that, knowing I was the whole reason he was here in the first place? I felt bile rising in my throat, felt my stomach churn and my head spin. Weak. Moronic. Selfish. The villagers should have barred me from their walls when the soldiers had first come, maybe it would’ve saved them. Maybe the men lost would still be here, the families wouldn’t be broken and shattered. I rubbed my hands across my face. There was nothing I could ever do to atone for what I had done.

And now I was just making it worse. How could I be so stupid? My whole body ached from exhaustion, my threadbare bed barely warmer than the cold stone. I half wished I would just freeze solid one night, and save them from flaying me themselves when they found out.

“Calliope!”

I raised my head, remembering the call that had broken me from my latest stupor belatedly with its echoing repeat in the early morning chill. Quietly, I stood, walking over to one of the larger holes in the wall that I had half-heartedly patched with an empy grain sack and looked down at the square below. I barely avoided another groan as I saw Izu’lemi walking about with his hands cupped around his mouth.

I descended quickly, hoping to avoid further eyes than already followed him. Dodging the group of orcs who lingered by the repaired well, talking to some of the villagers. Ducking into the alley ahead of him.

“Cal-!!”

He half squeaked as I grabbed his arm, yanking him towards me into the shadow of the nearest building. He looked about in surprise for a moment, then his face broke into a cheeky grin when his yellow eyes settled upon me and recognition filled his face.

“Are you stupid?” I hissed quietly. “What are you doing?”

“I was looking for you.” He explained, following me deeper into the alley and further from nosey ears.

“Now the whole village knows it.” I grumbled, rubbing at one arm and feeling another stab of guilt. Wondering what they made of the teenager orc looking for me by name. Though I had to admit, more and more orcs and villagers seemed to be interacting on almost friendly terms these days. Maybe they wouldn’t have even noticed.

My guilty conscience wouldn't allow me that peace of mind.

“I thought you’d want to know.” He replied, rubbing at the back of his neck and bringing me back to the present.

“Know what?”

“I got you permission to leave the village and hunt today!” He said eagerly, practically bouncing on his toes, “And I get to be your escort!”

I did groan now, leaning against the nearest building wall that didn’t look like it would collapse with my weight.

“You? Today?”

His face fell a little. “… I thought you’d be pleased.”

I sighed, reaching up to rub my face briefly. Then craning my head back to look up at the grey clouds overhead. Biting at my lip as I thought it out.

“There’s a storm coming.” I told him. “A big one, by the feel of it. The herd is pretty far out from here, and I’d need to stop by my cabin for supplies before that.”

His grin returned. “We should go now then! How far is your cabin?”

I sighed again at his eagerness, running my hand once at my face to the back of my neck. “A least a two hour walk. Probably more, depending on the paths.”

“How long until the storm hits?”

I glanced back at the clouds. “I’m not a wizard. I don’t know for sure… But maybe a day at most.”

“We can make it then if we hurry!” He exclaimed, grabbing my arm and tugging me along. “Let’s go!”

“Izu’lemi-” I started to argue, but the young orc wouldn’t have it. Half-dragging me behind him towards the gates.

I managed to free myself a few yards away from the edge of the village. A pair of orcs stood guard there, turning to us as we approached. Izu’lemi gave a wave, and spoke to them in orcish briefly. I shuffled awkwardly, shooting one an angry glare when his eyes settled upon me. But he merely shrugged and turned. Plucking up a huge pack and passing it to me. I took it warily, opening it momentarily to dig through the contents. A water skin, some snare materials, a flint. It was mostly empty, but I bregrudgingly decided it was better than nothing, considering we would be otherwise leaving the village without anything at this point.

I turned as Izu’lemi’s tone became more irate. His voice rising, his hands gesturing angrily. The orc he spoke to just gave a hapless shrug. Leaving the younger orc to storm a few paces off angrily. I glanced between the pair, passing through the gate to follow him into the chilly morning beyond the wall. My breath spilled in plumes as I approached him, still huffing with his arms now crossed over his chest.

“You look as though someone just kicked your dog.” I told him, placing my hands on my hips. “What, are they not letting us leave?”

He turned at the sound of my voice,. Then his eyes flicked over my shoulder, and his lower lip protruded. I heard the sound of approach, and I pivoted in place to see what all the fuss was about.

I felt cold suddenly as the older orc approached, dressed only in his thick fur wrap with a cloak over his shoulders and a battle ax at his hip. Leaving me frozen in place for a breath longer than I should have been. My heart stopping painfully in my chest and a chill running down my spine. I quickly corrected myself, scowling. Spinning to turn my back to him.

“Sorry, I thought we could make it before he got here,” Izu’lemi told me quietly, glancing over at Jou’kiel, “I told him I could go with you alone. He insisted.”

I swallowed my nerves and stubbornly refused to let my mind wander to the last time I had seen the older orc.

“If he wants to waste his time wandering about the forest instead of doing his damn job, that’s on him.” I assured the younger orc, making a point to ignore it as I felt his father’s heavy shadow cross my shoulders.

“I am doing my damn job.” He hissed bitterly in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

I was tempted to draw my knife and just stab him, but resisted. Barely. My scowl deepening and throwing the pack abruptly onto my shoulder so it smacked him in the face as it did. Served him right for standing so close. I heard him growl, but ignored that as well.

“Let’s go, we’re losing daylight.” I told Izu’lemi.

“What about the storm?” He asked me, trotting to keep up as I stalked away.

“If we hurry, we’ll be back long before it hits.” I assured him. “No way I want to get caught out of doors in a blizzard.”

I paid no mind to the trailing thuds behind me that signaled the other orc lumbering after us as well.

-----

“How far now?” Izu’lemi asked, and not for the first time.

“Almost there.” Was my standard reply.

I didn’t have the patience for any of this. I felt my stomach churning in knots, felt the hairs prickling on the back of my neck. I could almost feel his eyes on me like daggers, and he was not even trying to be subtle about it. I assumed Izu’lemi sensed the tension, given how often he tried to break it. I let him prattle on, unconcerned for now. I wasn’t hunting until I got my supplies, though I did keep enough presence of mind to set a few snares off the beaten path as we went.

The woods were grey, with barely any sunlight piercing the thick clouds gathering overhead. I breathed out another heavy plume of hot air, rubbing my hands together a little. Maybe my weather predictions were more off than I had thought. Maybe we didn’t even have a day. I kept glancing at the clouds. Wondering if it was my imagination or if they were actually thicker.

But we were making good time. And I also felt a touch of gidyness to finally be out of the village and back into my natural element. I had all but grown up in these woods. My brother and I had explored every inch from here to the next town more than a week’s journey away. I knew every cave, every big old oak, every herd and pack. I drew in a deep, steadying breath of the crisp winter air and felt a bit better than I had in days. Even finding a spark of energy for being out in the wilderness again budding amid my general exhaustion. And as we broke through the final thicket to the small clearing where my little cabin sat, I could’ve collapsed with relief.

It looked little worse for wear; I hadn’t been there in over a month now. There were old branches and leaves settled upon the roof, and there was heaps of debris accumulating all around it. I wished I had time to better clear out the old thing; the branches on the roof should really be cleared before the first snows, and it looked like the frost had warped one of the shutters on the window a bit. But there was no time, so I skipped up the tiny porch and fished my key out of my pocket to open the heavy chain lock I kept upon it.

“How long have you lived here?” Izu’lemi asked me curiously as he followed close on my tail.

I turned, putting up one hand. “Long enough. Now stay here a minute. I’m going to pack a few things and change.” I pretended I didn’t notice the heavy scowl on his father’s face as he lingered a few paces back. “We need to head out immediately if we want to catch up to the herd before the storm hits.”

“What can I do?” He asked eagerly.

I resisted the urge to sigh, looking him up and down. “… Can you hunt?”

He shrugged. “A little, I think.”

Not the most inspiring answer. I fished out an old bow from just inside the door, passing him its quiver as well.

“There’s a small clearing down by the river where the rabbits like to feed on clover, even in the winter. See if you can hit one or two. Then set some snares for the rest.”

He grinned at me eagerly and bounded off to his task. Once again, I ignored the scouring look his father gave me after he had passed. If the bastard wanted to say something, let him say something. I wasn’t playing his stupid game, I had more important things to do. More people depending on whatever fresh meat I could bring. Maybe then the livestock might make it through the winter to reproduce in the spring and replenish our herds.

Another stab of guilt, but I shoved it down. Shaking my head. I saw Jou’kiel take a few lumbering steps towards me, but slammed the cabin door behind me with a resounding CRACK that was at least a little satisfying.

Most of my clothes had weathered their abandonment rather well, and I donned thick fur slacks and a heavy tunic and cloak. My bow had warped a bit with the frost, and it took a bit of oil and a re-string to get it back into a more manageable state. I stuffed the pack the orcs had given me with a few more supplies; a skinning set, a blanket, some spare snares and clothes. I put a skinning knife on my belt, and anything else I could think to grab. I wasn’t sure when I would make it back here again. My fingers lingered over a little wood carving I kept hanging by my bed, feeling a pang of sadness wash over me as it did every time I was reminded of my brother. But decided only the essentials for now. Didn’t want anything I brought back getting stolen or damaged. I was already irritated that the idiot chief now knew whereabouts the cabin was. Though I smirked with the thought that he might be an absolutely useless head for directions. Very likely as a prince, he had someone else who handled the navigation for his hoard. Which led me to wonder if I could just ditch them both out here.

I dismissed the notion, shouldering my pack again and shouldering the stiff door open again. It could really use a re-treatment to better weather the winter. It didn’t look like I’d have that opportunity today.

As I stepped out onto the porch, broad shoulders barely covered by his thick cloak met me. Jou’kiel was apparently surveying the woods. As if he were truly keeping guard, like I might have planned some sort of ambush. That sparked a bit of ire in me, and I yanked the door shut behind me and redid the locks. He turned at the sound, and I saw him pause, his eyes looking me up and down in my more appropriate attire. Then he snorted.

I scowled at him. “What?”

He shrugged, then sneered, baring his big teeth at me. “You might actually convince someone you are a huntress now.”

“I don’t need to convince anyone of anything.” I shot back. “I am a hunter.”

“Seem more like the village idiot to me.” He replied coldly.

“You thinking to give up the mantel?”

He sneered again. “Don’t irritate me. Or we can just turn this whole excursion around.”

I snapped the last lock into place, scoffing loudly. Turning and stomping down the two shallow steps. “Of course you’d be willing to let people starve just to make a point.” I grumbled.

His eyes flashed, and a deep growl formed in his chest. I didn’t wait for his retort. Turning and slipping into the woods again. Down towards the river. We’d have to travel upriver now to find the herd’s wintering grounds, though it wasn’t as far now. We should also pass where I’d sent Izu’lemi on the way, giving us maybe another small window of opportunity to track the herd if they had traveled their usual route. And based upon the wind picking up, our time to finish this hunt was rapidly dwindling. I wasn’t going to let his arrogance stop me from bagging a proper kill for the villagers.

I saw Izu’lemi’s form stalking throug the underbrush a few moments later. His eyes flicked to us, and he gave a crooked little grin. Then snuck off. Obviously with something in his sights. I continued down the path, confident he would be able to find us once he finished whatever he was doing. Still ignoring the lumbering footsteps behind me, and the rising irritation that grew in me with each step. A track in the frosted ground caught my eye as we moved, and I slowed. Crouching and brushing my hands across the cold leaves half covering it. Fairly fresh. Maybe a day or two old. I swept back and forth slowly, trying to ascertain the beast’s direction. Not the main herd, just a straggler. But they would be headed for the wintering grounds with the others, and would be much more adept to finding them than I.

It took me a while of sweeping, and I heard Jou’kiel give a slightly irritated huff behind me as our progress slowed.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t order me around.” He snapped. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You’re huffing and grunting like a boar.” I said bitterly. “Chances we catch anything with any element of surprise with you lumbering around like-”

“I’m sure the beasts can smell your frigid bitchiness miles away.” He intterupted, stopping next to a fallen log. “Or maybe you just smell enough like one of them they don’t notice.”

I tried to ignore him, and focused hard on the ground. Crouching next to another set of prints to give them a better look. Another deer than the first, I was almost certain the shape was different. Larger than the last. But a bit newer. Still, both headed in the same direction.

Jou’kiel settled with another huff upon the log, adjusting his fur cloak around him as he did. I tried to continue to ignore him, tried to mind the signs in the fresh frosted forest floor instead. Struggling to push him from my mind and focus at the task at hand. My nerves close to breaking feeling his eyes following me as I did.

“You missed a spot.”

“Why are you here?” I snapped, spinning on him as I lost that fight. “Why can’t you just leave me alone??”

“Alone with my son?” He growled. “Not a chance.”

“You think I let him walk away just to kill him after you and your bloody orcs have already destroyed my village?” I scoffed. “Gods, but you are dense.”

His eyes narrowed. “You think I should trust you? After all you’ve done?”

“All I’ve done?? All I’VE done??” I echoed in bewilderment. “YOU are the one who rampaged my home.” I stalked closer to where he sat, shoving a finger in his general direction. “YOU are the one who holds me hostage. YOU are the one-”

“Who let your precious villagers go.” He snarled back. “Who runs around cleaning up YOUR mess-”

“I never asked you for your damn help!” I cried. “I don’t want it! Leave me alone and just go!”

He bared his teeth at me, turning at his waist to level us eye to eye. “You really think you’d survive five minutes without me here?? Think anyone, ANYONE else would put up with your tongue? You foul, pretentious, bullheaded woman!”

“Better than being a blowhard, arrogant, spoiled little prince!” I shot back. “Gods forbid someone finally tells you ‘no’!”

“Didn’t sound like a ‘no’ when you had your wet cunt pressed against me.” He growled in a low, hot voice. His eyes flashing.

Perched already off-balanced on the log as he was, it was almost too easy to knock him down. Gravity did most of the work once I set my mind to it, locking my forearm against his collar and shoving him hard. Toppling him with a resounding THUD that shook the forest around us. Drawing my dagger from my boot and jumping over his huge body to pin his shoulders against the frosted ground with my knees in one smooth motion. Leaving him half upside down with his legs still bent over the log.

His eyes went wide for a second as he registered what had happened, then narrowed again as his breath returned to his lungs. A bitter scowl forming on his thick lips. My blade glinting in the the low light of the forest, all the more sharp looking pressed against the vibrant green of his throat. My breath in hot plumes cascading down on him.

“What? Don’t like to be reminded?” He sneered, his voice still a hiss. I resisted the urge to press down a little harder, feeling my temper scald through my veins. “Don’t like the idea that an orc got you all hot and bothered?”

“I could kill you right now.” I half-hissed through gritted teeth. “I could slit your throat before you could even think about throwing me off.”

He lifted the back of his head off the frost speckled leaves, pressing deeper into my blade. His eyes dark, his brow knotted. Bearing his teeth in a crooked sneer.

“Wouldn’t change the fact that You. Kissed. Me. Back.” He said vengefully. Driving a stabbing guilt into me with each over punctuated word.

I stared down at him. My thighs lingering over his chest, my knees pinning him down. Our hot breath mingling in the scant space between us. My fingers twitched, and I felt my brow furrow. He stared back, unwavering. Unflinching. His eyes burning bright and so intense that it almost hurt to look at them.

“… You kissed her?” came a petering voice.

We both jumped, turning sharply to see Izu’lemi standing a few yards away. His arms full of snares and rabbit. His eyes wide and fast growing wet with his mouth lingering open in shock. We had been so caught up in our fight we hadn’t even heard him approach.

“Izu-” Jou’kiel started, even going so far as to start to reach one hand out towards his son.

But the teenager didn’t wait for him to finish. Dropping his bounty and turning with tear filled eyes. Bolting in the opposite direction.

“Izu’lemi, wait!” I shouted after him, quickly drawing my blade back.

No sooner had I withdrawn it than the big orc beneath me shifted like a raging storm. Tossing me off as easily as one shrugs off a coat. Not bothering to watch my decent as I landed heavily on the ground with a loud ‘oof’. Then barely dodging his flailing limbs as the burly orc rolled to right himself. Even scrambling on the leaves for a moment as he tried to get his feet after him to charge after the fleeing teen.

“Izu!” He shouted, his footsteps echoing like thunder amid the quiet trees.

I found my feet easier than him. Grabbing my pack and darting after them. It was easy to overtake the lumbering orc. Dodging between trunks and boughs that otherwise slowed him. Listening to him stomp through the underbrush as I simply leapt over it. Ignoring the branches whipping at my face and arms. Quickly putting distance between Jou’kiel and myself.

That had been stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Letting the idiot get me so riled up. Hurting Izu’lemi so recklessly. And for nothing! Just because his stupid father managed to get under my skin about… I pushed the thought away, looking around almost desperately and hoping the boy hadn’t gotten too far ahead.

I skidded to a stop as I reached a small clearing. Panting and spinning about. Freezing as I saw the lanky form hunched by the frozen riverbed. A very familiar stretch, and I almost sighed as I recognized it upon my approach. He certainly had a flare for the dramatics. I dropped the pack by a nearby tree and made my way over more slowly. Pretending I didn’t see the quiver of his shoulders or hear the soft sniffle.

“Izu’lemi,” I said softly.

“You could have waited for me.” He accused without looking, his voice tight. “I was going to grow up. I was going to repay my debt.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” I told him, coming over to his side. Slowly lowering myself to sit next to him on the bank. Ignoring the loud clatter and thud that announced his father arriving in the clearing as well. “I didn’t let you go because I wanted anything from you.” I nudged him gently with my elbow, and he finally looked at me out the corner of his eye. “I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

He sniffled, rubbing the back of his wrist across his nose. “I could’ve taken care of you.” He mumbled sadly.

“I bet you could.” I agreed quietly. “But…”

The ground shook beneath us a little and we both turned to glance at Jou’kiel as he slowly made his way over. His breath pluming around him, his eyes searching back and forth between us warily.

“I was going to get older.” Izu’lemi insisted, turning back to me. “You didn’t need him.”

“So was I.” I reminded him. “You will be a young man in his prime. And I will be an old crone. You don’t deserve that.”

“But I do?” Grumbled his father under his breath.

I shot him a punishing look, which made him grunt and cross his arms over his chest. Walking over more quietly to carefully settle down on the younger orc’s other side. I watched the boy’s yellow eyes follow him, then turn back to the frozen river itself. Sniffling again.

“You deserve someone your own age.” I told Izu’lemi. “Someone you can love and care about. Not someone you’re stuck with out of some… estranged sense of duty.”

He wrapped his arms a little tighter around his bent knees. His brow scrunching stubbornly. I looked over him at Jou’kiel, who glanced at me at my movement. I gave him an exasperated look, raising my eyebrows pointedly. The older orc scowled at me for a moment, then chewed at his fat lip. Glancing at his son.

“Did you think she was your manwe?” He offered quietly after a moment.

Izu’lemi didn’t answer him at first. The silence stretched so long, I thought he might not. Then he shook his head, a bit reluctantly I thought. I snuck a peek at the older orc, wondering what that meant. But he avoided my gaze, focusing on his son.

“I didn’t think your mother was my manwe either.” He confided in him. “… But I wanted her to be. I tried so hard to make it so.” His big meaty hand came out, clasping his son’s shoulder and giving him a tiny shake. “When you find them, there won’t be a question.” He assured him. “You’ll know. Without a doubt, without hesitation.”

“Yeah?” Izu’lemi mumbled, looking at him at last.

“Yeah.” The older orc gave him another little shake. “And if you’re lucky, it won’t be some hot-headed, foul mouthed human huntress from the middle of nowhere.”

I scowled at him, and almost said something. But then Jou’kiel switched to orcish, and I looked away. Suddenly feeling a bit strange watching such a tender moment between father and son. Especially as Izu’lemi replied, and I saw the bigger orc stiffen. His eyes peeking at me. Chewing at his fat lip for a moment before dropping his gaze and responding very quietly.

Whatever he said made the younger orc laugh. He rubbed at his nose a final time, then took a big, steadying breath. Shaking himself and standing. His father standing with him with his hand still on his shoulder.

I followed suit, offering a kind hand on his other shoulder. He gave me a sheepish grin, if still a bit sad around the edges.

“… I dropped the snares.”

I smiled, squeezing his shoulder before dropping my hand. “We can pick them up on the way back to the village.”

His eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly. “No! You have to find the herd!” He told me. “A few rabbits isn’t enough to weather a big storm.”

“We can hunt some small game on the way back.” I assured him. “There’s snares to check at the forest line. It’ll have to do for now, we won’t have time to-”

“I’ll go back!” He exclaimed, then turned to Jou’kiel. “I’ll check the snares and take back the rabbits and you can go with Calliope to find the herd.”

“Izu.” The bigger orc started, a small scowl forming on his face. “It’s far to walk on your own-”

But the teen was already shaking his head vehemently. “I can do it! I want to do it! And I can move faster by myself. It’ll take me half the time to get back.”

“I think he just called us old.” Jou’kiel grumbled.

“More you than me.” I said under my breath.

Jou’kiel shoved me hard enough that I almost toppled over. Izu’lemi stretched out an arm to catch me, righting me with a steadying hand.

“Inu’u!” He scolded. “You are the one who agreed to let Calliope hunt. So the villagers would have fresh meat. She hasn’t even found the herd yet!”

“She’s been leading us in circles around this blasted forest.” The older orc growled. “Probably isn’t even a herd at all. She just wanted to have fresh bloomers.”

Izu’lemi wrapped one arm about my waist, practically hoisting me off the ground as he prevented me from launching myself back at his father with my fists already balled. He gave a grunt, settling me back on my feet again a step back.

“Stop! Both of you!” He ordered, putting up one hand as if to prevent Jou’kiel from swinging at me as well. “Please! This is important!”

I shoved his hand away with a scowl matched only by the one on Jou’kiel’s face.

“Your father is the one starting fights.”

“You’re the one holding grudges.” He shot back.

Izu’lemi stomped one foot on the ground angrily. “It doesn’t matter!” He spun on me, and I jumped a little in surprise. “You’re the one who said you needed to hunt. Don’t the villagers depend on you?” I felt my scowl shrink a bit as the guilt washed over me and he spun back to his father. “And you’re the one who said the humans needed to feed themselves, or the warriors would get restless again.”

I glanced at the bigger orc, and saw his brow darken even as his copper-yellow eyes flicked to me at my movement. I crossed my arms over my chest, my scowl returning. Shaking my head.

“The herd is too far away at this rate.” I kicked my boot in the dirt, towards the markings in the ground. “… But it looks like there may be a straggler in the area.”

“Good!” Izu’lemi exclaimed eagerly before his father could reply with a snide remark. Which he had dodged by a breath considering the way the older orc closed his mouth a moment later and scowled deeper. “At least that to start, right? Before the storm?”

I sighed, glancing over at Jou’kiel again. Uncrossing my arms to put my hands on my hips. “Yeah, maybe.”

The younger orc spun back on his father, who started a little at the suddenness of his movement.

“So you will go with her. Until she catches it.”

“Don’t order me around.” He growled in response. But snuck another peek at me. His nose crinkling up as if the idea truly disgusted him.

Finally, he nodded.

“This is stupid.” I muttered, even as I dropped my hand on Izu’lemi’s shoulder to give him detailed directions back to the village.

I didn’t bother to say much else once I had finished, turning and following the tracks deeper into the forest. Not waiting to see if the younger orc left the way I told him to. Or if Jou’kiel bothered to follow. The wind was picking up, but I could still hear the bigger orc’s heavy footsteps a few moments later as he begrudgingly followed me. I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or smug about that. Deciding I didn’t want to think about it.

I practically counted each minute out in my head, aware of his looming shadow just over my shoulder with every breath I took. I tried to focus on the tracks, on the signs. But his presence was distracting in the best of conditions. Now, almost an hour out on our own, I was beginning to get frustrated. It wasn’t aided by the grumbling grunts every few minutes from my escort.

Finally, a clear sign of broken branches and fresh dung, and I felt my heart rate quicken. I raised a palm to still the orc. Dropping into a crouch. Listening. Creeping forward.

There! The snap of a branch. Too large for a rabbit. Too low to be a branch breaking free in the wind. I inched towards it, checking the cold wind. It was blowing into my face, which was good. I drew my bow, notched an arrow. Keeping my eyes and ears peeled. The building storm was to our advantage, as its senses would be befuddled, and I got even closer.

The buck appeared from between the trees up ahead, ambling by with little concern. I snuck as close as I dared, watching it as intensely as a hawk. Bringing the notched arrow’s feathers to my cheek. The beast paused, its ears flicking as if it sensed something amiss.

But it was far too late, and I sent my arrow flying.

It gave a sharp yelp, staggering and jumping in place. Trying to bolt but impeded by the arrow imbedded in it’s neck. I was able to notch and fire another while it staggered about in disorientation, hitting a leg. It collapsed, then dragged itself back up. I had already dropped my bow and drawn my knife. Darting in and grabbing a handful of its thick hide behind its neck. Wary of the flailing limbs as I buried my knife beneath its jaw.

Another flail, another spasm. And it stopped. Twitching a little as I settled it back onto the ground. I wiped off my blade and replaced it in my boot. Looking up briefly as the ground shook a bit beneath Jou’kiel’s heavy footed approach. I almost froze as I realized he was staring a bit. His copper eyes filled with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Then he grunted, adjusting his shoulders in a way that made his bare chest flex. Tossing my abandoned bow at my feet.

“Done? Let’s go.” He ordered me, his fingers drumming on the handle of his battleaxe.

I dropped to my knees beside the deer, pulling my skinning knife from my belt. Moving to make a quick, neat slice down it’s throat. The blood was a pleasant warmth after the growing chill of the forest, and steam rose from it as it pooled on the ground.

“What the hell are you-?”

“I can’t exactly carry a whole damn deer across several miles of rough terrain.” I interrupted with an irate tone. “I’ll have to- HEY!”

I fell back a bit as the orc hoisted the carcass up, dropping it over his shoulders. Before I could react, he reached back down with one hand to grab my arm. Yanking me back to my feet as well.

“Let’s go.” He growled.

I tore my arm from his grasp, shoving his hand away. “Get off me!”

He scowled at me, his brow darkening. “The sooner we get back to the village, the sooner I never have to see your bitter face again.” Jou’kiel said, wiping the back of one hand over his cheek. “Get over yourself and let’s. Go.”

He didn’t wait for me to answer. Turning and heading back the way we had come. I shook my head in irritation, but trudged after him begrudgingly. Picking up my pack from where I had instinctively dumped it as we’d approached the deer. Which made me aware I was currently coated in bood. My arms up to my elbows, the front of my tunic and my knees from kneeling in it. I glanced over at Jou’kiel to see a thin track trailing down his cloak. If he noticed, or cared, he didn’t say anything. I was sure we would look a sight, approaching the village gate like this. But I sighed, as there was no choice. Based upon the drop in temperature and light, we were fast running out of time.

So we trudged in silence again for a while. I tried to bury my thoughts in a scowl, tried to push the conflicting voices out of my head without even the hunt to distract me a little. Watching my breath plume thicker and thicker in front of me as time wore on, and noticing the soft flurries of snow now building around us. I glanced up at the clouds overhead, which had become even more ominous.

At this rate, we weren’t going to make it back before the storm hit. I scowled deeper, pulling my cloak stubbornly over my head. Pulling my sleeves down and quickening my pace to give the orc an angry shove.

“Wrong way.” I told him, then corrected our direction and took the lead.

“Why should I trust you?” He called after me once I was a few paces ahead.

“Go that way and get lost then.” I replied. “Do us all a favor.”

I heard his deep rumbling growl, then the sounds of his begrudging acceptance in the form of his lumbering gait. I told myself I slowed my pace to better conserve my energy in the growing wind and snow. Not for his sake. Wrapping my arms about myself out of stubbornness rather than cold. Blinking away the stinging snow now accumulating on the ground under our feet.

This was going to be a long walk, I bemoaned silenty.

Within another hour, the wind was howling around us, the snow so thick I could barely see through it. Gathering on the ground enough that my legs were growing tired from dragging through it. I debated a few times changing course and heading for the closer cabin. But decided I would rather get buried alive than suffer an enclosed space with the behemoth orc. Which in the swirling storm around us, I couldn’t even say for sure he was still following me.

I felt the tips of my ears start to burn from the cold. Better burning than numb, I told myself bitterly. It meant they weren’t completely frozen yet. I made it a little longer distracting myself with such thoughts. Then finally gave into the urge to glance over my shoulder to see if the big orc was still there.

A particularly strong gust had my footing slip as I did, and I fell back a step. Smacking straight into his chest. A hearty growl greeted me, one which I felt more than heard over the roar of the storm. His meaty hand came out, settling on my shoulder, giving me a firm push until I was able to get my feet back under me again. I shoved his hand away. Using the pause to try to get my bearings. Big fingers tapped my shoulder, then pointed. I shook my head, pointing the correct direction. Another growl, another point. I shoved his arm as he started to move past me. Heading the wrong way.

“It’s this way!” I shouted over the din.

He shook his head, pointing again. “You got turned around!” He shouted back.

“That’s the river!” I returned, as loud as I was able. “We need to go- WAIT!”

I grabbed his arm, trying to tug him back. He grunted, dragging me sliding forward and barreling ahead. I nearly lost my footing, but tried again. Managing to dig in my heels in the slippery ground enough to give him pause. He still dragged us a few more yards.

I felt the ground groan beneath us. I shoved him, hard. He was already bent so far forward agains the wind I managed to knock him a few steps away.

“You pompous, arrogant, son of a-”

UPDATE: Part Six HERE

SNNAAAP!!!

[dream0fschism]

are your nsfw requests still open? if they are could you do one with könig and medic!reader? the rest is up to you

god i’m such a konig slut

i'm back, my darlings!

PAIRING: König x f!reader

“I’m getting tired of seeing your hooded face, König.”

He never spoke much, a thing not uncommon for men in his field of work. Many preferred the comfortable air that the silence brought, enjoyed how it was such a stark contrast to the sounds of gunfire, explosions, screaming. It made your dingy, makeshift clinic a refreshing stop for most.

But the man in front of you had made trips to your room so frequently you’d figured he must have broken some kind of record. You’d treated gunshot wounds, minor burns, patched up his bloody knuckles countless times… there wasn’t an inch of skin you hadn’t laid your fingers upon. Each time you cared for his cuts or stab wounds, some of which hash-marked atop of old and stubborn scars, it was as if you gathered more intel about his personality otherwise untold.

König was a machine, dangerously dedicated to proving his worth - dangerous for the receiving party, of course - with a willingness to sacrifice as much of his flesh and blood as it takes. If necessary, he would nurse his own injuries, albeit terribly, in favour of granting himself an advantage or winning battles. You recall a few times in which you scolded him for his amateur efforts. “If you cauterise one more wound this terribly I’m going to refuse you of future treatment.”

Of course, he’d remained silent. But you swore you saw the slight crinkle in the skin around his eyes.

And in his dedication you couldn’t help but see a deep insecurity. Sometimes, but only on the rare occasion, he would show up barely alive. He would always be alone, never needing his comrades to waste their energy and strength on carrying him to safety. But you would always worry the most in these situations, when his skin was pale and cold and he still refused to remove his hood. “Anything below here, I can take care of myself,” he’d struggled to grumble out.

If he wasn’t so unbelievably skilled, you’d assume he had a death wish.

“I’m sure you’ve said that before,” he answered, the sudden sound of his accented voice gifting you with slight surprise.

“I suppose I’m running out of things to say,” you chuckle, continuing to swab at the dry blood clinging to the skin of his sternum. “And you’re just about running out of unmarked skin.”

“Mm, my gear does seem to be quite useless,” König nods. “Perhaps fighting naked wouldn’t make much of a difference.”

The harmless joke has heat creeping onto your cheeks, and you’re really baffled by your own brain because of it. As if you hadn’t seen ninety-percent of his body already.

“Perhaps not.”

"You are blushing," he notes. "Yet this isn't your first time you've rubbed at my bare skin."

The hand you had placed against him stilled momentarily as his point only intensified the bubbling heat in your face, swelling a ruby-red shade along each of your cheekbones. You continued your aid, with a strict refusal to allow your gaze anywhere else except for his wound.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," König breaks the short silence that followed.

You laugh dryly as your awkwardness fizzles away a little. "You're all finished."

König brushes a hand over the gauze, inspecting your work. When he says nothing, you stand on your feet and gather the used swabs, kicking your wheeled stool to the side to make your way to the bin.

Before the lid had even closed the trash behind it, you felt the warmth of his towering presence at your back. It startled you all the same, a sharp inhale sucking its way through your parted lips.

"I have to ask.. Do you like seeing what's beneath my gear?" He presses each of his long fingers into your shoulder as his hand cups over it.

"Isn't that question a little inappropriate..."

"If I'm crossing a line, then tell me to stop."

You open your mouth to reply, unsure of what exactly you'll say when the hand at your shoulder slowly begins to move. He's agonizingly slow, careful as he explores over the layer of your white button-up, and you feel utterly insane for being unable to use your words and put an end to it.

Instead, you stare blankly at the off-white wall in front of you and allow his hand to roam.

"Can I tell you something?" He asks, edging his hand to cup below your right breast. The touch causes you to lean into the tower of his body, a sudden tenderness and sensitivity wracking each nerve in your chest.

"I enjoy coming to see you," he continues, prompted by the way you relax against him. "In fact, I refuse to see anyone else when I'm injured."

It makes you cock an eyebrow. "I thought it was strange, just how often you needed medical attention. Were you slacking out there? Hoping to get injured so you could see me?"

König huffs out a dry laugh. "No. But part of me did want to be indebted to you."

Liar.

"Why?"

"Because I needed an excuse to give you exactly what you deserve."

You swallow a dryness in your throat, the hand on your breast gives a generous squeeze as you do so. You almost choke on your own saliva.

"If that's something you want..."

"And what do I deserve?" Though you feel as though you already know the answer, you ask anyway, subsequently causing a heavy pulse at within your heat.

"I'm much better with actions than words."

"They do speak louder, I suppose..."

König takes your response as agreement, the hand at your breast moving to dig desperately beneath one of the spaces between the buttons of your shirt. He finds purchase and, in one swift pull, violently rips open the shirt, each button clicking gently as they bounce against the tiled floor.

You open your mouth to scold him, to tell him that he owes you a new shirt pronto - but König is determined to waste no time as his hands are already tugging the band of your bra down to expose your tits.

"I've wanted to see these for a long time," he breathes, and you hear the tremble in his exhale as he does so. "So perfect."

It dawns on you that you must be an obsession of his, that he may be interested in you significantly more than you are in him. It's the only viable explanation for his reckless behaviour, and yet it still didn't make sense why he would risk his life even more than he already did just to be in your presence.

"I.. hope you realise I have no other shirt to wear," you say, inhaling sharply at the sensation of his hot, calloused fingers brushing circles into the shape of each of your nipples. "How am I going to leave this room?"

König tuts as his hands cage around the mounds of your chest and pulls you flush against him.

"Who said you're going to leave this room?"

The pit in your stomach spirals into a trench, and then König is lifting you, using the leverage of your weight against him, before you can even stutter out a response. His hands guide your body along like you're no heavier than a bag of rice, a true display of his unbeatable strength that sends your mind numb - reminds you of just who you're dealing with.

A ruthless, merciless killing machine.

When König settles onto the examination table, he makes sure that you're positioned perfectly onto the tautness of his giant thighs, and you finally win against the babbling, incoherent flurry of thoughts inside your skull and speak.

"This... Surely we're violating multiple codes of conduct.. protocols... I-"

König allows you to cut yourself off, relishes in the way you hiccup at the sensation of linen on skin as deft hands begin to slide up your skirt.

"We can stop," he suggests, halting the movement of his hands but continuing to brush his fingertips back and forth, so awfully close to the insides of your thighs.

You squeeze your eyes shut and drop your head to rest just below his shoulder. Every single horny neuron inside of your brain fires at you, reminds you of just how neglected you've been sexually, what the countless hours of constant shifts have denied you for so long. And then it dawns on you.

"König, we can't. I'm not on birth control."

The man laughs. Laughs. It's the first time you've ever heard such a soft, genuine sound escape his mouth. You feel a twitch below because of it, the heat between your legs only solidifying the way his display of amusement has made your want for him so much more intense.

"Love, I'm only interested in your pleasure."

And you know better than most that a man who prefers giving rather than receiving is a rare find.

It would be a tragic waste.

When you spread your legs unconsciously, your skirt ruffles up until it can't no more and König reacts accordingly to the invitation your cunt is giving to him. But he spends too much time massaging the sensitive skin between your thighs for your liking, and you lift your hips to encourage something more.

What you get is rather unexpected, and would be a little annoying if you weren't so drunk on your own arousal. König hooks a finger under the material covering your hip bone and jerks his wrist, tearing your panties with ease before moving to finish the job at the other side.

"Please," you murmur, eyes trained on the large hand between your legs. He shushes you, with a gentleness you didn't suspect he had in him.

"Quiet now," he hums out. "Let me show you how grateful I am to you."

You feel your clit screaming for pressure, but König's fingers seem to ignore the cry as he toys with the wetness around your hole. The sensation tickles slightly, until he's pressing his middle and ring fingers inside.

Immediately, your hands fly up to brace at the arm that begins to move, long fingers filling you enough to bring a whimper from you. It feels good, but not perfect, and the man seems to read your mind as he curls his digits to rub at your sensitive, spongy spot.

"Oh, fffuck," you sigh, digging the back of your head into him with more force and following with a series of guttural groans.

"Quiet," he scolds, a slight venom in his tone. "Or I'll have to stop."

"Don't," you almost growl with a buck of your hips.

You almost forget the other hand that rests over your left breast until it starts to knead and pull at the skin, almost miss the sound of König's pants as they ooze with arousal from behind his mask.

With only the sensation of König's palm brushing against it, your clit is desperately swollen. You're willing to look the other way when you feel yourself constricting around the now three fingers pumping in and out of you.

When he speaks, his movements don't falter.

"I'm going to stop, and when I do, I want you to lay on your back on this table. Understand?"

"Yes," you obey. You're pretty much putty in his hands at this point anyway.

And so you splay out on the cold metal of the table - which your white coat does nothing to protect you from - skirt bunched up around your hips, shirt ruined and ripped open and completely exposing your chest and belly.

"Lift your legs," he commands, hand ready to hold them in place as you do as you're told.

At the end of the table he stands, lanky arms reaching over to grasp each of your ankles as he slides you along the metal until the backs of your thighs butt against his own.

You feel uncomfortably aware of how exposed you are as he spreads your legs and examines the sight before him. His eyes are cold, fierce - akin to the eyes of a hunter eyeing its prey. Your body feels as cold as the surface beneath it underneath his stare.

König releases your ankles to let your heels rest at his shoulders as his hands begin a slow trail down and along your trembling thighs. Each of his thumbs hook around your corresponding hip bones, calloused fingers cupping in place at your lower back.

His baby blues eyes are considerably darkened to a shade of grey as they flick up to meet your own, and moments later the hem of his hood is brushing gently over your swollen slit.

You've never seen his face, but you've never wanted to more than you do now. His hold on you is intoxicating in a way that staggers your cognition, robs your brain of any chance of comprehension as you can only watch him lean further forward and dip until you can feel the heat of his breath against your cunt. His tongue is hot, completely saturated in his own saliva as it makes contact with your puffy clit. It snatches the breath from your lungs with violence, and when it starts to massage on and around the nerve you can only mewl and whine meekly.

König continues his watch on you the entire time, evidently enjoying the pained look that the struggle to keep quiet brings to your face.

You lift your hips into the onslaught of his mouth, and his grip around them becomes vice-like as he forces you into place and sucks harshly at your nub. This only serves to fuel your physical struggle under his pleasure more, and he grunts at your display of disobedience, lifting you higher until only your upper back and head touch the table.

The new position makes any movement too difficult for you, forces you to submit against him as he groans into the taste of your pussy. "König, I-God, I can't--" You flail your arms until they slump defeatedly back down to your sides, nails scratching at the frigid surface below you.

He manoeuvres his grip for comfort, lifting you further, until his forearms are encircling and squeezing around your waist and your calves hang over each of his shoulders.

"König, please, fuck--"

The man hums into your heat, all but abusing your clit with the vibration that follows through the sound. You're forced to slap one hand over your mouth to muffle the repetition of cries falling from it. König's lucky, his hood seems to dull his grumbles of pure satisfaction that reverberate against you. But you still hear every bit of them.

Your body spasms when you come undone against König's relentless mouth, legs jittering with a force that wobbles your entire body against his own. His hold on you helps stabilise you through the orgasm, but your hands fail to suppress the desperate, hopeless wails you release from behind them.

"That was beautiful," you barely hear him say through the ringing in your ears. "But I'm not done, Doctor."

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Silent Cosmos (Edward Cullen)(Ch. 1)

Pairing: Edward Cullen x GN! Mute!Reader

Words: 3.0k+

Warning(s): Mentions of past car accident, mentions of minor character death/parents dying, swearing, implications of past bullying, mentions of high school lacking services, blood mention.

A/N: YAY i finally have this done. I’ve had this idea since before i started grad school and finally got it done! I hope yall enjoy :) This series takes place before Victoria’s army comes to Forks and Edward may be OOC but like, oh well.

Also in this series, Bella and Edward had a mutual break up w/ no hard feelings <3

Series Masterlist

---

"On foot

I had to cross the solar system

before I found the first thread of my red dress.

I sense myself already.

Somewhere in space hangs my heart,

shaking in the void, from it stream sparks

into other intemperate hearts."

--Edith Södergran, 'On Foot I Had to Cross the Solar System'

On one unfortunate night when you were seven, a drunk driver hit your parents car. Your mother on the passenger side died instantly, your father later succumbed to his injuries in the hospital. You were injured severely, but the doctors managed to keep you alive... At the cost of your voice. Chunks of glass tore through and stabbed your neck; the damage to your larynx was the worst, the second was nerve damage. You could speak in a very harsh, almost whisper-like, voice but it caused an intense amount of pain. You were upset. You hated that driver for what they took from you.

Your aunt and uncle took you in, and were able to help you adjust as you grew. They learned and taught you sign language, they helped you cope with the loss of your parents as best they could, and were always supportive. Despite their work lives keeping them away, they always tried their best to give you attention when they had the free time.

You found ways to enjoy life again, particularly in the stars. They were almost comforting to you when you were alone, looking out your bedroom window. You weren't sure why you have such an affinity for space and what it holds. Maybe because your father brought you out at night to point out all the constellations and their stories. Those moments with him started your interest. And now, you believed your parents were amongst the many stars in the vast universe.

You grew content with not having a voice. You adapted and overcame the curveball life sent your way. You just wished the pain wasn't constantly lingering.

---

It was the day you started going to your new highschool in Forks. It wasn't ideal transferring to a different school, but your uncle's job called for it. He was a firefighter and he was offered a sizable pay increase and rank promotion to fire captain if he took up the position for the Forks station. Your aunt, a nurse, was able to transfer to Forks hospital. They discussed the idea of moving with you of course, and you not wanting to hinder your uncle's promotion or damper his excitement, you supported the move from California to Washington.

You could already tell this rinky dink school wouldn't have anyone that understands ASL and the school said they are still looking to hire someone to be an interpreter of sorts, so you were mentally preparing yourself for the mess you may be entering. At least you transferred only three weeks into the new school year, that would make any school work you needed to catch up on relatively easy. It also helped it was your senior year as well.

As soon as you got out of your car, all of the heads of the student body snapped in your direction. You guess they've never seen a new kid before. You make your journey towards the building, hoping that no one would bother to talk to you. You already saw a teen walk up to you, he had straight black hair and a toothy grin.

"Hi, I'm Eric. You're the new kid." He seemed friendly.

You offer a little wave and sign, hoping he would get the inclination you could not speak.

"Shit... I don't know sign except..." He gave you the sign sorry before pointing to his ears and back to you. You shook your head and tapped your throat. "Oh! You can't speak." You nodded. "Sorry about all the confusion. Welcome to Forks High, home of the Spartans. I'm pretty much the eyes and ears."

You simply nod along when necessary and smiled as he gave you the very quick run down of most of the immediate gossip of school, which was centered around you, the new kid. He seemed like a nice guy but glancing at the clock you passed by in the hall you knew it was close to your first class.

"And don't get me started on the Cul-What?" You interrupted him as you held out your schedule to him, pointing to your first class. "Oh yeah, guess class is starting soon. Lets see... you're in 103 for English with Mr. Baker which is..." He glanced up. "Right down the hall. I have History right next door."

You smile at his help and follow him through the sea of students.

You wave Eric goodbye and enter classroom 103. You felt eyes of everyone land on you, but none more eye-catching or captivating as the gold pair near the back of the classroom. His gaze was intense, eyes wide, as he stared at you. You held his gaze. You weren't sure what to think at the moment but before anything could come to mind, an older gentleman walked in and stole your attention. You assumed correctly this was Mr. Baker.

---

Edward was the first to arrive for his first period class. He was always punctual, but there was a difference now. He no longer had Bella in tow.

It was a mutual end to their quick relationship. While her blood did appeal to him greatly, the fastness of their relationship hurt them both emotionally at the end. It was purely fascination of each others beings that they mistake as something else. While it did hurt, Edward could admit to himself he wasn't distraught over it. They remained friends and he was content with that.

Slowly, other students began filling the classroom as the clock ticked on. Everyone filling seats they usually sat in despite there being no assigned seating. No one ever sat next to him, often feeling intimidated by his status as a Cullen. The vampire paid them no mind, occupying his attention to watching the typical Forks rain traverse down the window he always sat by. He tuned out everyone's thoughts the best he could, letting his usual melancholy about his nature linger in his mind.

Edward perked up when he heard an fast-beating heart breakthrough his attempts of zoning out. Shifting his focus to the doorway his eyes latched on to the new student.

You.

It didn't take reading thoughts to feel the buzz of a new student arriving in the small school.

He felt... strange. Much like with Bella, your scent invaded his senses and made him thirsty, yet, that wasn't what caught his immediate attention.

It was the eyes. Something about them captivated Edward. He wasn't sure what about them had him staring at you, who now stared back at him. The vampire attempted to discern your thoughts and he caught an inkling of curiosity starting to bleed out before the teacher took your attention away.  His stayed on you, and didn't pay him any mind or had any idea he wad, and focused his enhanced hearing on the conversation.

"Hello, new student?" The teacher greeted and softly spoke your name. The auburn haired male watched as the you nodded.

Edward's curiosity peaked when he finally heard their thoughts, clear as the days outside of Forks.

"Yes, that's me. Do you know sign?" He heard their thoughts as he watched their hands easily relay in sign language. I'm expecting a no they internally sighed.

"Oh shoot I wasn't told..." A worried look passed on the teachers face as his sentence trailed off. Edward can hear his thoughts complain that the school failed to inform him about the new student outside their name and grade. A look of exasperation briefly flashed on your face.

Who would of fucking thought Forks High, a small-ass school, would not inform their teachers. Fantastic. Wonderful. I love it. It was a pointed statement that had Edward both mildly shocked at the language and pretty amused. I wonder how much others outside of Eric will put up with me here.

Edward sighed. He knew he shouldn't involve himself with another human but he couldn't help it. Whatever captivated him and the resignation you mentally expressed already had moved him. He got up from his spot and quickly moved to the front of the classroom.

"Apologies, I don't mean to cut in but I know sign."

---

You blink at the golden-eyed student he approached you and the teacher. You felt a grateful smile tug on your lips as you faced him. Immediately, you felt some appreciation and felt good about being wrong on your previous assumption.

"Thank you, Edward." Mr. Baker smiled in relief. Edward gave the teacher a small, tight lipped smile at him and faced you. The teacher introduced you to him. "And this is Edward Cullen."

"I'm sorry for any inconvenience." Edward spoke as you signed, his voice soft and velvety. Observing his face, you watched as his brows furrow at your statement, which became almost a second nature for you due to the way your previous school treated you. You often faced irritated glances or your existence ignored entirely outside the feo close friends you accumulated.

"Please relay to them-" Mr. Baker spoke but you immediately shook your head and held up a hand.

"I am neither deaf or hard of hearing, sir. I just can't speak." Edward translated for you again. "I look forward to class with you both." A smile appeared on his face again.

"You too. And you aren't being an inconvenience at all. It's the fault of the school, really." Mr. Baker offered a kind smile. Edward left the two of you, as if knew he wouldn't be needed again. "Take a seat wherever you want, I don't do assigned seating unless it becomes an issue." Mr. Baker gave you a kind smile and gestured for you to pick out a seat, while he moved to the classroom computer. You take a glance around, only seeing three spots open.

Your eyes landed on the one next to Edward, causing you to perk up. Though, you hesitated, his small smile and the single, subtle nod assured you it was fine to sit by him. Holding your backpack strap a little tighter, you move between desks to join him.

---

Edward watched as you sat next to him. You offered him a quick smile before you started pulling out your notebook and your small pencil case. You didn't look over at him as you stared up at the board, waiting for class to start.

The vampire was curious and while he knew it was an invasion of privacy, he couldn't help but try and focus in on more of your thoughts. Except he was met with...

What? His brows furrowed. Edward felt overwhelmed for a moment, his sense felt almost deprived as he tried peering in your mind again.

Edward suddenly saw what he perceived as a galaxy. Stars, planets, moons, a sun... it was vast and it was breathtaking. It wasn't something he never saw before, this detailed, in a humans mind. He was able to view this scene for just a few fleeting moments until he suddenly felt warm energy push against his mind.

The vampire blinked. His presence was back in classroom 103. He glanced toward you. Paying close attention, he didn't see anything that indicated you were in any way aware of what just occured. He heard the teacher swear under his breath as he attempted to get the projector working, and used this moment to speak with you.

Softly, he called your name, bringing your attention to him.

"How are you liking Forks?" Edward recognized he was a bit awkward, but you gave no inclination that you minded or judged him.

"It's wet. But I don't mind it. The scenery is nice." You signed and it was as if the cosmos that warded him from your thoughts was lifted. Hearing your thoughts again after being blocked out by the cosmos left him perplexed and curious.

"Forks does have its charm in scenery." He chuckled. "But I assume that isn't why you moved?"

"No, but it definitely is a bonus." You smiled. "My uncle got a promotion so we moved up from California."

"What does he do?"

"He is now the fire captain here."

Edward had a kind smile and offered a small congratulations to him. He then spoke again, "What does your class schedule look like?"

You reached into your zip up hoodie pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, you slid it to his desk. His golden eyes scanned the paper and he felt some sort of happiness that your schedules almost align completely. The only class difference was your last two classes, which would have you taking gym and history without him.

"Looks like we will be seeing each other a lot. We have almost all the same classes."

That's a relief. Edward suppressed a smile at your thoughts. I hope we can be at least friendly with one another.

"Since we have most of our classes together, would you like to be friends?" He asked. He could already hear Rosalie scolding him for getting involved with another human, but he didn't particularly care what she would think.

You were another anomaly to his, otherwise, stationary life. He has no plans to try and initiate a quick romantic relationship again. He simply was curious to the stars that lingered behind your eyes.

---

It was nearing lunchtime. You glanced out the window of your math class while the teacher closed out her lesson and began explaining what the homework was going to be. You were very grateful for Edward sticking by you in each course. He was able to help you talk to your teachers, answer and ask questions, and made Forks high a little more welcoming.

You had met two of his siblings in that time frame, Emmett and Alice, who were both a delight. Alice already expressed how much she was excited to finally get to know you, which you assumed she was wanting to meet the new kid, and Emmett offered to watch your back in gym with the biggest grin you've seen on a persons face. It also warmed your heart to find they also knew sign too.

The initial worry of being a forever outsider like before began melting away. So far things have been pleasant unlike your last experience.

As you mind wandered off to old school memories of bullies and loneliness, you were still unaware of Edward trying to discern your thoughts again. You missed the look of confusion and frustration on his face. Although, you did manage to hear him make a noise that sounded like frustration, which snapped your attention on him.

"Everything okay?" You ask him. He glanced up at the teacher who was now facing the board writing the homework down.

"Just... wanting class to be over." Edward gave you a tight lipped smile. "Mrs. Johnsons' classes are usually a bore."

You nodded with a smile and silent chuckle.

The class bell rang, signaling an end, and practically everyone ran out for lunch. You eyed the crowd trying to leave and shrug your shoulders. You scribbled down the equations Mrs. Johnson assigned before putting your class materials away and preemptively pulled out your brown bag lunch.

You glanced to Edward while you both stood up. You weren't sure if you should continue sticking by his side until it was time for your last two periods or find your own corner to decompress. Perhaps giving him a break from-

"Are you ready?" His soft voice cut through your thoughts. You blink, pausing for a moment, before nodding.

"Lead the way." You smiled, though you were sure it came off as nervous. There will be so many people...

"Would you like to sit with my family and I, or would you like to go somewhere quiet?" You looked at him a bit shocked, were you that easy to read? You could see the twitch of his lip like he was going to respond but he kept quiet.

"Somewhere quiet, just for today."

"Follow me then."

---

Rosalie sighed as she leaned against the table, waiting for her siblings to join her and Emmett for lunch. She then looked to her partner and leaned against him, who laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Her golden eyes followed Bella's form with a glare as she sat down with her friends.

"Come on, babe. Her and Edward have no hard feelings." Emmett spoke in a quiet tone.

"It's still a danger to us." She grumbled.

"Nope! She still becomes a vampire like us." Alice suddenly sat down with a bright smile.  Jasper was quick to sit down next to her.

"Even after what happened with the Volturi and James?" Emmett asked.

"Yep. While the course of her and Edward's relationship definitely changed, she still becomes a part of our clan."

"Great." Rosalie rolled her eyes and then glanced around at the table. "Speaking of Edward, where is he?"

"Probably off with the new kid." Emmett smirked. "They seem pretty nice. Edward's been helping them since they can't speak."

"Another human?" She looked to her partner then to Alice. "Did you..."

"Have a vision of them? Yes. The day before Edward and Bella parted their romantic relationship, I had a vision of them coming to Forks. And then after meeting them, I saw them and Edward, looking pretty close." She smiled and giggled.

"Great, another human who is going to choose to be a vampire." Rose scoffed.

"Rosalie-" Alice's usually bright expression drops. Everyone at the Cullen table looked at her with worry as it appeared her eyes glaze over. Jasper immediately gripped her hand under the table as he could feel a wave of sadness wash over from her.

"Darling?" Jasper whispered.

Alice blinked rapidly. She looked to the others with a worried expression. "I... I didn't see the specifics but... It wasn't their choice."

It was silent between them. Rosalie's eyes were wide, Emmett clenched his fist under the table, Jasper tried his best to calm everyone, and Alice simply blinked and tried looking to the future again.

She could see you, crying and writhing as the venom from a bite on your arm took hold, blood all over you. Edward and Carlisle were right by your side, speaking. But she couldn't hear what they were saying.

All she heard was a high pitched ring.

And then the vision flashes a blinding white and she swears she could feel intense heat against her face.

She was back at the table again with her family. It was the same vision as before. Never had she seen such a bright light, heard such a noise, or felt anything like that from a vision.

"We have to talk to Carlisle."

[theurgists]

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ WHEN ANGER

TURNS TO HONEY ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

daemon targaryen x fem!reader

summary: tensions rise between house targaryen and house royce after the death of your sister, lady rhea. the night of princess rhaenyra's wedding feast, accusations come to light, a finger pointing to the brother of the king  — who just so happens to be your lover.

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, loose enemies to lovers trope, scratching kink (??), graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of loss of virtue, daemon being daemon, the usual hotd shenanigans

a/n: yet another installment of 'birth of violence' that has me fanning myself silly. bear with me if there are any mistakes or if you find anything to be incorrect, as i am still slowly easing my way into the fandom. enjoy friends <3

“I am making an accusation.” 

The moment those words were spat out of your cousin's lips with the utmost venom he could muster, you had suddenly wished you were hidden behind the thick walls Runestone provided; mourning the loss of your older sister. 

Gerold Royce should have bit down harshly on his tongue the second his heart burst in flames with overwhelming heat — hatred for the man before him, eyes narrowed with murderous intentions he so desperately wished to act on. 

This occasion was anything but the correct time to address such serious matters, especially under the scrutinous eyes of the King, his heir, and his Hand who had watched with such caution that you had opted to distract yourself by digging your fingernails in the wax-coated skin of an apple you had plucked from the vast array of foods. 

The rhythm of your breathing had grown uneven, breasts squeezing uncomfortable against the upper trim of your dress, pillowed lips pressed in a thin line.

 Daemon Targaryen leaned back in the finely carved wood that made up his seat, nodding in faux understanding at your cousin's bold choice of words. Craning his head slightly to scan his violet eyes across his elder brother and Lord Lyonel Strong, his lips jutted before parting to speak. 

“In King’s Landing, men are made to answer for their slanders. Even old bronze cunts like you.” 

There it was. The infamous insult that sharpened the blade — stabbing it into the already agonized heart of your relative, as well as your own through the sonorous music pouring in the canals of your ears. 

You had known this so-called slander to be true; knowing his profound hatred for the Lady of the Vale had finally been acted upon in the treachery of her brutal murder. It was an unfortunate occurrence you had trampled upon. 

Her skull was bashed to bits, remnants of brain matter scattered about in thick clots of crimson that had decorated the grass and watered the dirt. You had touched with the pads of your fingers, still slightly warm to the touch. Deep within the pits of your stomach, weaved in your intestines, you had known the silver-haired man before you were to take the blame for her untimely demise.

However, you were in no position to come to such a decision, and nor would you ever be. Therefore, Daemon Targaryen would walk away with every limb intact, and you would continue to suppress your fury, forever scarred by the loss.

It was only then that you had sharply stood from your seat, apple long forgotten as it dropped onto the table with a quiet thud, momentarily attracting the curious gazes of those across from you, the others none-the-wiser as they continued to prance about. 

Piercing, violet eyes caught yours for a fraction of a millisecond and if you weren’t as aware as you were now, it was something you were sure to miss. 

Destastation never consumed you so… barbarically.

Gerold stepped forward, chubby fists clenched and shaking with contained wrath. 

Daemon took it as no threat, offering an amused smile as if to mock his feeble attempt at intimidation and defense of his house, his name, and his cousin.

“The truth is, I’m glad you’ve come. I wish to speak to you about my inheritance.” 

“What inheritance?”

“Lady Rhea and I had no heirs. As her husband whatever she was due now passes to me.”

His words to you became a jumbled nonsensical mess.

Surely he had too much wine to drink before he had strutted through the thick doors of the feast hall, all mighty and proud of his feats and dirty achievements.

Before you could stop your actions, you strutted up the four short steps, forcing position next to Gerold whose jaw had grown taut with anger, teeth grinding against each other, practically shaking in place. 

“It seems you’ve forgotten that Lady Rhea has a sister,” Your sharp words cut through the pause of uncomfortable silence that had settled despite music still echoing in the expanse of space, dimly lit, cozy yet unnerving at the same time. “and truth that no heirs have been brought forth, I have a right to claim. As long as I continue to breathe, you will take nothing.” 

The finality of your statement seemed to have temporarily embedded itself in some part of Daemon that wasn’t as rot-ridden as he was, as he had nodded curtly at you, taking longer than necessary.

His lingering stares had never failed to send a chill down your spine, numbing you at the very core of your existence whenever you’d catch his gaze. He had preferred your presence over your sisters, despite the little time you two had spent together. Though he quickly figured that since you and the eldest bronze bitch had come from the same cunt, you were bound to have the same irritating little quirks — he just found you more tolerable, more sheltered than Rhea.

After all, the eve he had flown on the back of Caraxes back to King’s Landing, he had filled you — had given you something to remember him by. It showed when hues of purples and blues decorated the expanse of your stomach, under your ribcage, everywhere he could reach until you could no longer take everything he had to offer.  

Daemon loved to ruin pretty things. And even though he had stated that the sheep were much prettier than any of the women in the Vale, he had not thought of you. 

Roughly circling your arm around Gerold’s bicep, you tugged him away, and back to your designated seats, pulling him down to sit with as much strength as you could. 

“Do not ever make such accusations in front of other lords and ladies of the realm.” You seethe, feeling him stiffen under your near-suffocating grasp, lips pressed together tightly before he nods. 

“Good. Now eat, you’ve been neglecting your needs.” 

And without a word, Gerold obeys. 

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

There’s moonlight casting shadows over the gargantuan towers of the Red Keep, basking certain spaces with a luster so gentle, it almost felt as if you were on your homeland, feeling the grass between your bare toes, inhaling as much fresh air as your lungs could home. 

You could not do that here. 

You could not taint your body with such putrid, toxic air as what loomed over in King’s Landing in thick clouds, dusting over the already sinful streets, waiting to discreetly make its way down your throat until it attacked every single cell in your body. Refuge from the disastrous occurrence of tonight's feast was not to be found here. 

That was something you had quickly come to realize when you had picked at your fingernails draped over the ornate decoration of one of the many balcony railings that riddled the large fortress, mind wandering to other things that developed a small bubble of guilt. 

You wouldn’t feed the monster. No. You couldn’t feed it the small handful of ill-at-ease altercations you’ve had with your brother bound by marriage, and the way he looked at you only intensified it to the point where you were sure it was to burst open, spilling your intestines and long-kept secrets. 

“There you are. You know, you’re very hard to find.” 

Clutching at the fabric of your dress, you rubbed it between your thumb and pointer fingers, spine straightening with such haste that it cracked slightly, back still turned to him. 

That voice had haunted you in your dreams once, maybe twice if you could recall correctly despite your enthusiasm to find a way to rid them from the tissue of your brain. It had chosen to gather in the outer fluid of your skull instead, sloshing around the forefront from to time whenever Rhea had mentioned her cunt of a husband. They had not consummated their marriage, as he had no interest in sticking his cock in the likes of your sister, an eagle with wings far too big for her body. 

That was something he despised about her, amongst many other things. Yet, he couldn’t find it in his dull, black heart to take any of it out on you, a vision among many; a person in his dreams he wishes he could call a stranger.

You had robbed him of something, and although Daemon wasn’t quite sure of what exactly it was, he’d figure it out in time.  As he always did, no matter how rash. 

“Should I be honored to be in your presence after you’ve sought me out, then?” 

A brush of wind passes, seeping through the thin material of your clothing, through your skin, and wrapping itself around your bones. 

“I think I should be … lady of the Vale.” 

Turning your head in his direction, you narrow your eyes into slits as he makes his way toward you, hands clasped together firmly behind his back, hair slightly disheveled. 

There’s a lump in your throat that you swallow with difficulty, heaving out a large, dramatic sigh, keeping your eyes locked on the side of his face, the slope of his nose. His brows were furrowed, the lines of age even more visible on the face you’ve only had the pleasure of touching once when he had thrust into you. 

The mere thought of it calls upon the guilt again. So, you resist.

“I am in no mood for jesting, I only wish for a moment of peace. That is all I ask.” As tired as you had sounded, you had felt even more defeated knowing that no matter how much tea you’d ingest when you reached your temporary chambers, it would not be enough to keep your rumination at bay. 

There’s a whistle somewhere nearby, a momentary distraction from how close he’s standing to you, shoulder to shoulder, body heat practically radiating like the fires you’d set deep within thick branches and high grass. 

“You have a sly little tongue on you, don’t you?”

“Only when one claims what is to be mine.” 

“Hm,” He hums, turning his head slightly to stare you directly in the eyes. “So eager to replace that dear sister of yours. Tell me, how did she so tragically pass again?

Daemon was trying to get under your skin. It was a skill he was best suited at, especially in a time of vulnerability such as this, with no one else around to diffuse the fire sparking between the both of you as your chest expanded so wide, that your lungs burned, 

Grinding your teeth together, you could taste nothing but wine on your tongue as you pressed it against the roof of your mouth.

“A snapped neck and a crushed skull.” He tutts, “Such a shame.”

“Do not speak of my sister in ill manners when she has no way to defend her honor.” You spat, hand shaking at your sides, nails digging into your clammy palms – leaving crescent indents in their wake. 

“Is that not why she has a sister to take her place when it suits her, to fuck her husband without remorse.” The smirk that appears at the corner of his lips has your chin wobbling in anger, a hand outstretched to clasp at the lining of his blood-red sleeve; the same blood-red that painted your sister's head when it laid cracked open on blades of grass. 

“Laying with you was an insult to my virtue.” 

Slowly, as if you were to strike him at any moment, Daemon raised a hand, gently pressing it against the pillowed flesh of your bottom lip, wet with saliva and ready for him to devour all over again; the taste of citrus coating his taste-buds. 

“I rather enjoyed our time together.” He admits with amusement as if the agony written on your face was purely a source of entertainment. 

With unshed tears burning behind your irises, you blink, wrinkling your nose in mild disgust at the man in front of you. “Fuck you.” 

And with that, he presses his lips against yours, teeth clashing against teeth as the heat of his mouth overpowers your will to resist. You’re putty in his arms and he knows it by the way his free hand grips your hipbone, gripping as if you keep you in place. 

It’s messy, yet delectable all the same as his tongue mingles with yours, hot and needy as they dance, heads growing hazy from lack of breathing. A quiet moan escapes you when Daemon tugs your bottom lip between his teeth as if he were starving, pulling you as close to his chest as he can manage.

You’d burn for this, surely; for fitting in the arms of your sister's husband as if you’d belong there — for feeling some sort of desire — lust all for the man who had taken her from you. It had become all too real to you when he had brought you into his chambers and unclothed you slowly as if you were a sight to behold, drinking you in like the most expensive wine he’d ever sought out in all of the Seven Kingdoms. 

It had all become too real when his hands had greedily palmed at your breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth with such enthusiasm, that you were positive this was an entirely different man from the one you had come to know. His cheeks were hollow as he sucked, nipped, and swirled his tongue around your hard bud, an arch in your back only encouraging his movements.

The organ in your chest was beating erratically, practically pounding on your ribs, hoping to crack them one by one and leave you a shell of yourself before you were to return home. 

Just for tonight. 

You’d feel his touch one last time before you’d beg for forgiveness for the rest of your life. 

When Daemon removes his mouth from your chest, he finds himself sucking the skin at the base of your neck, paying attention to a particular spot you had reacted to, bruising all he could to claim you just like he told you he would the first, and only night he bedded you.

The sensation of the bare skin of your legs wrapped around his waist sends him into a frenzy as he inhales sharply, slapping his hands at the meat of your thighs before trailing one between your legs to palm at his hard cock, dripping with pre-cum and ready to bury you to the hilt.

“One last time.”  You whisper, letting it mix in the heavy air, watching the way his brows furrow before the only emotion in his dark eyes dissipates. 

He wastes no time, gathering your arousal on his tip before he’s sheathing himself into you, groaning lowly in the crook of your neck as your walls shape around him. Your insides are on fire with the way he’s stretching you, left hand gripping at the sheets near your head.

“I’ll never grow tired of this.” He says it as if he’d have you for the rest of his life, a soft lilt to words that you’d find praising if they weren’t coming from him, a Targaryen — a dragon conqueror.

Biting down on the soft flesh of your lower lip, you stared at his features, clouded with a certain haze of carnal desire. The feeling of your heart beating quickly against the bones of your ribcage subsided when a flow of arousal made itself known at the burning intimacy of the action, causing you to clench around his cock buried within you, your nails dancing down the nape of his neck to the expanse of his back.

A groan left his throat when that not-so-innocent sound he relished reached his ears, and it was hard not to pound you into the satin sheets right then and there. Instead, he pressed his bare chest against yours, skin hot and flushed, his wet lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

As the muscles in his back flexed, the light sting of where your sharp nails had once been clawing desperately reminded him just how much he loved the feeling of your nails breaking the skin there the first time. The sadistic action secretly becomes one of his favorites as you do it now. It was physical proof that he could please you in a way no one else could touch you in all the right places, and watch your pretty eyes roll into the back of your head. 

Every single reaction you had to even the slightest touch  — was all because of him. He’d want his touch to be all you’d ever know. 

“So good, sweetling,” He drawled lowly. A quiet but adequate praise before he removed one of his hands from your side, producing a sharp hiss from you as his palm slapped against the outside of the fat of your left thigh once more.

You whined, the pulse between your legs aching with arousal, your slick pooling at the base of his cock when he’d fully unsheathe himself only to ram, back into you again. “Such a tight little cunt, huh?”

Wrapping your legs around his unclothed torso as much as you could manage, you crossed your ankles, pushing him in until he touched a spot so deep within you that you choked on your breath, the air seemingly knocked out of your lungs by his harsh movements as he continued to stretch you.

With closed eyes, you let your eyebrows furrow in concentration at the euphoric feeling he brought to you, a relentless pace that sent your toes to curl involuntarily. 

The air was hot and the sheen of sweet blooming between the both of you did little to quell the intense heat. Skin slapping against skin and your lewd moans echoing off the thin walls and right back into your ears was all that could be heard aside from his panting.

It was only when his hand had slipped near your neck to cup your jaw, that you had let out a sob so pathetic that he had chuckled right into your skin, tears distorting your once clear vision of him as he continued to pump himself in and out of out.

 “Look at you.” He cooed, “So pretty with those tears in your eyes.” 

Your fingers had flexed uncomfortably near the top of his spine, nails scratching against the expanse, and moving toward his scalp, twirling wisps of loose silver hair around your finger as the frame squeaked beneath your bodies. 

His guttural groan vibrated throughout your chest, rattling your body.  The burning sting that seeped through the minor, raw wounds encouraged him to hold your hips down, ramming so deep into you, that you had started to writhe beneath him.

Daemon could tell you were close. 

How could you not be with the way he was abusing your cunt; rocking you through your orgasm.

The slow, deep breaths he took to steady his breathing helped you focus on calming your own as he rubbed the pad of his thumb against your cheekbone, thrusting one, two, three more times before emptying himself in you, painting your walls with his seed, filling you to the brim before swiftly pulling out of you.

Your gaze never left his fit, naked figure as he ran a hand through his hair, shuffling toward the end of the bed, back hunched and toward you as the silence and realization of what you had done ate at you. 

Never again. That was a promise you intended to keep. 

Never again.