#if I was 11-12 and liked stranger things I would be all over this au 100%
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I love how my brain will just come up with new aus to think about when I have about five sitting in the corner waiting for me to pick them up again.
#my titanic au 1820s college radio au itakiss au and whatever other au I made that I forgot#they are figuratively looking at me with crossed arms while I think about a miss peregrine au#if I was 11-12 and liked stranger things I would be all over this au 100%#I was obsessed with that book series#I am still salty that my 6th grade teacher didn’t read the book regularly to my class#new tag to add to my blog >#emily’s fanfiction woes that involve procrastination and too many ideas flying around inside her head
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Simon.
Part 1
Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13
Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au Photo credit: quinci Note: Had 'Meddle About' by Chase Atlantic on repeat as I wrote this in one sitting. My first COD fanfiction. Enjoy!
Their hands squeezed against your arms and wrists. You tried to pull and yank away in resistance to their unwanted advances.
“Hey, c'mon, you're cute! You should come with us.” one of them said in a voice that was meant to sound silky and inviting, but came off as sleazy.
Words failed you, all of them stuck in your throat, a large lump of fear blocking them from escaping your lips, tightening within your neck like a balloon about to burst. The memory of self-defense vanished from your muscles as you pitifully tried to fight off three men who were taller and bigger than you with your pathetic grunts and pleas to be released.
Upon the dark and empty streets, a distant hum of an engine, accompanied by a singular bright light which seemed like a firefly's glow, appeared to he approaching. You took no notice.
The hum of the distant engine grew about as loud as a cat's threatening growl, and the light as that of a strong flashlight. It still didn't catch your notice.
The growl turned into a loud, deafening roar, seemingly at will, vibrating the still air like an earthquake. It caught all of your attention as it drew near at an alarming speed towards the four of you.
The three men shrieked with fright, automatically letting your hands go in the process, and covered their faces with their arms. The growling, glowing thing screeched to a halt inches in front of them, sending the sharp smell of burnt rubber up their noses.
When the four of you looked, there stood a shiny, jet black sports motorcycle, upon which sat a rider. He was helmeted, also dressed in ripped black jeans that hugged his tree trunk-like thighs, a black leather jacket that tightened against his muscular arms and broad shoulders. The flickering white light of the street lamp cast a ghastly, ominous glow over him, making him look like some sort of ghost from an urban legend.
The three men recovered from their shock and opened their mouths to berate this biker for interrupting them, but before they even did, the biker flicked up the dark visor of his helmet and revealed his equally dark, glaring eyes.
“What are you doing with my girlfriend?” asked the biker, enunciating every word, slowly, like he was holding back a dam's amount of rage. His gruff, gravelly, British accented voice was muffled slightly by the balaclava he wore under the helmet, yet every word was heard loud and clear as if they were spoken through a megaphone, and the three men immediately stepped back from you, knowing that messing with another man's girl would have dire consequences.
You didn't know you had a boyfriend. Yet you played along.
“Simon!” You cried as you ran to him, going behind the motorcycle and hiding behind his large body. You decided to name him whatever came to mind first.
He sat up straight on his motorcycle to keep you hidden from them as he balanced on the sleek vehicle which rumbled like a distant thunder between his legs. He glared at the three men. “Well?” he asked with a growl that very well sounded the same as the roar of his vehicle's engine.
They simply backed off without a word, knowing they wouldn't win. The mysterious motorcyclist who you named ‘Simon’, stayed until the three men were out of sight while you still stood behind him, watching them leave.
“You okay?” he finally asked you when the coast was clear, now turning his dark eyes over his shoulder, where you were standing.
You let out an exhale you didn't know you were holding. “I'm fine,” You replied with some effort, massaging your aching wrists.
He paused before replying; he could clearly see that you were rattled by the experience, considering how your eyes still looked apprehensive like that of a hunted rabbit’s. His eyes flickered to your wrists, and he looked back at you. “Did they hurt you?” he asked softly.
“They just held me tight. I mean, my arms.” You exhaled again, the ache in your wrists easing slightly. Words still seemed to fail you, but they now flowed out a little easier.
He seemed slightly taken aback by how nonchalantly you said this, like it was a common thing. “Bastards.” he growled in his very distinct accent, clearly not the posh British accent you knew. “This place isn't safe. What were you loitering around here for?” he asked, now holding the handles of his motorcycle as he leaned back and moved his legs, moving the motorcycle backwards so that it was now back on the street.
You moved away to give him space, and then replied, “A friend of mine lives here. There was a party at her place.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and he now leaned forward to cross his arms on the tank of his vehicle. “Do you want to get out of here safely without getting hounded by blokes like those?” he asked.
“Yes!” you answered immediately. Somehow, you felt like you could trust this man somewhat, especially after he saved you and enquired about your wellbeing after that ordeal.
He leaned back slightly and patted the pillion behind him. “Get on. I'll be your taxi tonight.”
You blinked. “Are you sure? I don't want to bother you too much.”
“Look here, lass,” he started, leaning forward again, “I don't know if you know, but besides those cunts, there are muggers here too. And they all wake up at night. If you want to get out of here safely and not be a news report tomorrow, then get on." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder, "I'll take you wherever you need to go.”
You were surprised by his straightforwardness, yet it somehow seemed apt for a man with a gruff voice and a fearless attitude. Not another word more, you climbed up on the pillion of his motorcycle with some stumbling, but the man was patient, and leaned his motorcycle to the side to lower it slightly, so you could get on easier. As you were doing this, you couldn't help but notice the musky, earthy smell of his perfume, which reminded you of wet soil, rain, and dark chocolate; a positively divine scent.
“What's your name?” You asked as soon as you were comfortably settled on the seat.
There was a moment's pause before he answered, “Simon,” with an almost careful tone, as if he wanted to see your reaction.
As he expected, your eyes were wide with surprise. It melted away slightly as you thought he was just playing around with you. "Come on, that's the name I called you by earlier. What's your actual name?"
"It's Simon." he insisted.
You blinked yet again. "What a coincidence," You said laughingly, "I could've never imagined getting your name right on accident."
“I confess, you surprised me there.” His voice trailed off at the end, as if he wanted to say something cheesy, but he stopped himself, remembering that you were a stranger and not his friend. He leaned back again, yet again moving his motorcycle backwards.
You instinctively took hold of his shoulder to keep yourself steady as he moved. You tried to ignore it, but you noted how broad and rugged his shoulders were.
“So, where d'you wanna go?” he asked, taking hold of the handles and twisting the accelerator, making the motorcycle growl.
You told him your destination.
“Not too far. Two minutes if I go at 150.” he said, as if 150 kmph was slow for him. But he looked at you over his shoulder, “You okay going fast?”
“I've never gone fast before.”
He figured. "Wanna get a feel of it?"
"Sure, I've not nothing to lose... except my life, if you don't drive safely."
He chuckled, and it sounded oddly cute, unlike his gruff voice. "Just trust me, lass. I'm not gonna turn you into a news report."
"Well, you saved my life just there, I expect you to preserve it." You said with a chuckle. It felt strange that you already seemed comfortable enough with him to joke around.
"Nothing to worry about," he assured as he turned forward and revved the engines again. “You'll fly off, so hold on to me tight.” He said with emphasis.
“Gotcha.”
He got the wheels running, and started slow. The breeze kissed your face and your hair, and in the cool night, it felt freeing. He twisted the accelerator, going a notch faster. The breeze blew against you like a blow dryer, and you squinted your eyes slightly in order to see the quickly passing landscape of buildings, 24 hour convenience stores, and lighted street lamps.
He gradually increased the speed so you would not freak out, an oddly considerate thing he did for a complete stranger, something he would not usually ever do.
As the dial of the speedometer passed the 80s and crossed to the 100s, the breeze, now a gust, started to mercilessly slap your face, not allowing you to open your watering eyes. By this time, you had your arms around his waist and your face stuffed in and hidden behind his large back, holding on to him for dear life, while the smell of his perfume consoled your fears.
He rode on, completely unfazed by this speed, but a little stiff at the fact that a person, a woman, particularly, was holding on to him. It was out of necessity, of course, yet he couldn't help but feel a little strange about it.
As predicted, in two minutes, he reached your destination, which was thankfully a busy area with people still bustling around the open shops like it was daytime. He halted to a stop where you asked, and you took hold of his shoulder again as you mounted off the high pillion seat.
“Thanks a lot, Simon,” You smiled at him. You took notice of the logo on his helmet that carried the Italian flag in a semi-circle; it seemed to stand out over the glossy black shell of the headgear.
He pushed up his dark visor, and the flag was obscured. He nodded in response as his eyes studied your face, taking in the contours of your features all in a brief moment. "How did the speed feel?" he asked.
"Exhilarating," You replied, feeling your heart thumping wildly.
"In a good way?"
"I guess. It was kind of scary, but I liked it."
He nodded, and in his eyes, you could see that he looked a little pleased by your answer.
“I know it's not much but…” You paused, putting your hand in the pocket of your jacket, causing the contents to ruffle against each other. You pulled out a small, hard red candy wrapped in clear plastic and handed it to him. “... This is a little something for you for helping me out.”
He stared at the little candy on the palm of your hand, almost ready to refuse it out of modesty. But it was just a little candy. Who could it hurt? His fair hand reached out and took the candy, and both of you noted how tiny the sweet treat looked on his palm. He could crush it with his bare hands if he wanted to. Yet, he held it gently and stashed it in the pocket of his leather jacket, murmuring a word of gratitude that was barely audible under the two layers of his balaclava and his helmet.
“Well, you take care. And don't hang around in sketchy places like that next time,” he said, as if you were his friend of many years.
You were warmed by his concern for you, and you smiled, nodding. “After that, I don't think I'll hang around there at this time anymore. I'm sure as hell gonna stay over at my friend's place if I'm there till late.”
“Excellent choice,” he remarked. “I'll be off now.”
“Take care.” You smiled at him again, and his eye lingered on you a moment longer before he turned his head away.
He silently revved the engine of his vehicle again and sped off. You stood by the side of the road, watching his figure recede as the distance grew.
A sense of longing washed over you for this stranger named Simon, and you wondered if you would ever see him again. It was a strange coincidence that you unknowingly guessed his name so correctly, like unknowingly marking the right choice in a multiple choice exam.
It all came back to you now. The feeling of his rugged shoulder and back under the smooth leather of his jacket; the coarse, gravelly growl of his British accented voice that felt like rubbing coffee powder between your fingers, rough yet pleasing; the scent of his perfume like that of a dark, wet, rainforest; and his eyes… oh, his dark eyes were brooding and mysterious. Under the shade of his helmet, they seemed like swirling little black holes, the gravity around them dense enough to draw you in like a helpless star.
A shiver passed down your spine as you thought of him, making your cheeks flush with warmth as a distant look reflected in your pining eyes.
You started your walk back home, thoughts filled to the brim, flooding like a tidal wave with this biker. You were left knowing nothing about him, except for his name:
Simon.
End.
Part 2
Comment if you want to be added to my taglist :)
#call of duty#cod x reader#cod x you#cod x y/n#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#cod#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#cod fluff#fluff#fanfic#fanfiction#fanfictions#aoioozora writes#Simon series
485 notes
·
View notes
Text
the crown prince | c.s
summary: with the fall of the king, the kingdom of utopia rest on prince san's hand. but when bounties are put on his head as the consequence of his ancestors' actions, he realize there's a backlog of history to undo and a lot more to prove that he's deserving of being the rightful ruler
pairing: choi san x f!reader
genre: prince!san, commoner!y/n, medieval au, angst, fluff, suggestive
word count: 19k
(ao3) if you don't like lapslock
age 8:
you live in the fifth district, the poorest and most rundown of all districts, sitting at the bottom of the kingdom with a large body of water surrounding it.
the only remarkable thing about the place is the port that's often used for traveling in and out of the kingdom. other than that, rarely anyone from other districts would come down unless they want to be at risk of a flood--which always striked the district the hardest out of any others.
but even then, despite the limited portions of food your family has to survive on each day, or the hardrock wood mattress you guys have to sleep on that frequently gives your aging father back pain, life doesn't seem all that bad.
you still have your family and a roof over your head, and a mind too young and optimistic.
age 10:
just two years after, you soon find out how hard it really is for a kid living in the fifth district, and especially one without parents or someone to love and care for them.
the fishermen had said your parents fell overboard and their bodies couldn't be recovered.
you couldn't believe it at first that no one looked even the least concerned or urgent to search for your parents, but you soon learn that their lives are meaningless, and the people that threw you out after their death made sure you knew so is yours.
"ay, kid, we could leave you out here to die if we really want to," one of the tall, scary looking man says after your episode of protesting and crying starts to annoy him.
and easily like that, they both leave you in the orphanage that's already overcrowded with other children of similar circumstances.
you lose everything in one day; the house your father built from scratch, along with anything that's ever been handmade by your mother, it's all gone. they're both gone, and you feel yourself withering away with all the loss.
before the age of eleven, you become nothing more than a ward of the district and the responsibility to a bunch of strangers who probably doesn't care whether you live or die.
age 11:
it only takes a year for you to become almost nothing like the person you were once before who was cheerful and optimistic.
all of it beat out of you, watching every day as some of the children gets yelled at or punished for doing something so trivial, it desensitized you to the point you're no longer surprise to hear someone get told no one else would want them outside of the orphanage.
you don't talk to anyone or attempt to make any friends. you keep to yourself and would often read any books you could find or hunt for any sewing materials during the few time of the day they let you guys out.
age 12:
during dinner, you hear the group of kids sitting at the nearby table talk about the upcoming coronation of the prince.
"it's not even like we're gonna get to see it," one of the girls squeak, seemingly uninterested in the topic as she pokes her food because it's true.
events like that, especially any celebrations or gatherings are only reserved for those in the second and first districts, who are usually of noble and royal status. not nobodies like you guys down here living off of scraps and remnants.
"i want to see how the prince looks like," another boy adds with a mischievous tone.
you, too, want to see what the prince looks like, but you most likely never will. he won't come here and the chances of you going up there is damn near impossible, it might as well be good as a dream.
but all of the children agrees that he's the luckiest kid in the kingdom, and for that, they hate him for it.
age 13:
through the years, you've been watching as kids go and new ones would come in.
those that left were lucky to have gotten moved or adopted into a household that were willing to take them in, and you, like all the other kids in here, tired of the overcrowding and deteriorating state of the orphanage, hope that a kind family will one day swoop you away.
but it doesn't happen at age thirteen, and you continue to share a bunk with the same girl from three years ago who's been here longer than you.
age 14:
the states of the lower districts only seems to decline as you get older with the corrupted hierarchy and the rich taking all the resources for themselves.
for hundreds of years--you've learned, that it's always been bad, but everything's looking far worse than it has even four years ago.
but with the conditions in the lower three districts deteriorating, the citizens are growing more vocal, bitter, and resentful of those that resides in peace while everyone else is suffering.
the disparity not only made everyone despite the higher ups, but also each other as the stresses of the poor states get to them. and with you living in one of the three's, it made you harbor a hatred toward the top two districts as well, unable to see them past anything but greedy and power-hungry.
slanders of the royal family increased then. talks of overthrowing the king or starting a war for equal resources for all districts, and some even saying they'd rather swim across the ocean to reach kingdom aurora than to live in this "hellhole". but at the time, they were nothing but empty threats to make one feel better.
age 15:
you were so scared at first, hearing of all the horror stories told by the older, taunting kids who's gonna get moved into a family soon, that you're gonna be unlucky for the rest of your life and not get chosen like them.
that you're just gonna stay here until some lowly men decides to buy you off, or probably meet a worse fate.
but one sudden day when the director of the orphanage comes running into the dining hall and announces to all the kids to be on their best behaviors because someone from the second district is going to be coming down the next day, your life changes for the better at the age of fifteen.
you didn't think you had a chance at all, but you still wanted to try because no matter the intense dislike you hold for the two higher districts, if there's an opportunity for a better life, you're going to take it.
it's better than staying here and suffering. everyone else is becoming desperate and you're not any different.
the lady comes the following day as expected, her carriage alerting the entire place of her arrival as all the kids are on their knees with desperation in their eyes.
you guys have never had any visitors from a district so high up before, so this is very crucial.
when she walks in, everyone bows to welcome her, the sight as equally mesmerizing to others as it is to you. never in your life have you seen anyone with so many pearls and jewels, the gown she's wearing made of only the best materials.
it then hits you harder that however this lady decides to take you in, you're going to be living a comfortable life no matter what.
she takes one look around the room, all the children secretly crossing their fingers and it's when her eyes land on you and her lips turn up into a smile.
the director tells her you're a good kid. often guarded and doesn't really get along with the others, but well behaved nonetheless.
it feels weird to be the one everyone's envious of when you were usually on the opposite spectrum, but now passing all the kids as you make way to the front door, all their burning gazes planting a seed of guilt because you understand the feeling all too well.
but with the nation in this state, all anyone can do is look out for themselves. eventually, their time will come, and this just so happens to be yours.
the lady sits you down in the carriage next to her while the coachman leads the way back. she informs you will be working under the family as a servant but will be provided housing, food, and even freedom from time to time.
"i heard you like sewing."
you nod shyly at her words.
"i learned it from my mother."
"good. then you will have the opportunity to hone the skill."
the trip to the second district takes a total of three days, the only times you guys stopped was for food or toilet breaks. when the coachman announces the arrival, your first time seeing the scenery is that to of a fish fresh out of water.
you didn't even know trees or grass could be that green. or that it's not always supposed to feel like a sense of dread that takes the smiles off people's faces until they just look straight miserable.
it's as if you've entered a completely different nation, unable to comprehend the huge difference already, even in comparison to the third district.
the lady is quick to disappear into the house almost the size of the orphanage itself, calling for someone else to escort you around and show what the next couple of years (and possibly, the rest of your life) has in store for you.
you're to wake up at 5am everyday to prepare food for the noble family, and will be sharing a chamber with three other female servants: the main cook, the main cleaner, and another young girl about your age.
you're only allowed to wander during weekends with authorization and is only to go out for groceries or other necessities. other than that, any rule breaking will have consequences.
for the next couple of days, you practice the routine.
waking up in the early morning and prepping breakfast, then cleaning, and repeat for lunch and dinner. sometimes, you'd get to do different tasks like helping the noble daughter pick out a dress or shoes for the day, but that's only if you get called.
you pick up the cooking and cleaning quite fast because you used to help your parents a lot. and though the work hours can be tiring, the food you're eating and the place you sleep in is a lot better.
you also get the occasional freedom and access to improve your seamstress skills, and it's not the ideal life, but it is the best one for someone like you.
--
you hear a grunting sound close by one morning when you decide to wake up earlier than usual.
turning to the source, you see a figure far away near the tall gates, prancing around in his heavy armors with a sword in his hand. the sight definitely amazes you as you're only able to stare in awe before accidentally creating a ruckus that catches the attention of the stranger as he turns around.
it's still dark and you can't see his face very well, only until he starts walking toward you.
"can i help you?" he asks, voice a type of husky but innocent.
"oh, no." you shake your head, "i was just uhm... watching."
he chuckles and looks to the ground, your eyes trained on the way his dark hair ruffles along with his movements until he's staring at you again, finally out of the poor lighting.
he's cute and has childlike features. definitely not an appearance that gives away he could probably slice you dead right now if he wants to.
"you're the new worker," he vocalize, and it takes you a second to figure how he knew, following his gaze to the door of the chamber behind you.
"ah, yes i am." you nod.
"cool. well, i'm the gatekeeper. jongho."
"gatekeeper?" you crank an eyebrow, so far behind on rich people terminology, you have no idea what that means.
"i just protect and patrol the place in case of any intruders. it sounds fancy but it's really not. you don't have to keep it formal, though. we're all servants here."
"i see." you smile tight-lipped.
he also does look a little too young to be manhandling weapons or putting his life on the line, but you too, are also too young to be losing your parents and getting sold off as a servant.
for anyone in the lower three districts, it is all for survival.
you soon learn that jongho was born in the fourth district but he's been living and training here for so long, he can barely recall his time there.
and you're not sure what it is about him that makes you open up given the fact you've been closed off for so long ever since your parents death and the comprehension of the cruel world you're living in, but through the year and before you turn sixteen, you find your first true friend in choi jongho.
age 16:
you get acquainted with hongjoong, a friend of jongho and a messenger who travels in and out of the districts to deliver any important information.
you're not sure how he keeps his identity on the low in spite of the growing tension between all the districts, but jongho assures you he has his ways.
jongho spends his days training with many kinds of weapons; swords, spears, daggers, crossbows, and just about everything when he's not guarding the house--which he usually isn't because the second district is still relatively safe at this time.
but if there is any outside attackers, it would be jongho's and the other men's responsibilities to protect the noble family. it's what they've all been trained for.
you still cook and clean, and your sewing skills have gotten increasingly better that you also started picking up embroidery.
on the occasion, jongho would teach you how to use a dagger just so you'd have some knowledge of self defense and protection considering the alarming state of the nation.
and now that you're living under people of noble status, royal parties and balls were the standards. not that you'll ever get to attend them for yourself, always hearing about it for an alternative or watching the noble family dress up in pretty attires that cost hefty coins before they waddle off in their carriage into the first district.
hongjoong returns a week later, informing you and jongho that the conditions, especially in the fifth district, is really bad that some citizens have decided to risk their lives in hope of reaching the kingdom of aurora since ships and boats cannot be sailed without approval from the royal family.
"it's basically a death sentence to be living in any of the lower districts at this point. i fear if the king doesn't do anything about it, a civil war may be on the horizon."
age 17:
not much changes and hongjoong has said that the king, along with other royal and noble families, refused to take actions since the dividing of resources for all the other districts would cause the first and second to falter because they do not have enough for everyone.
it's better to keep some afloat than to put the entire nation at risk.
"but sir, that's only going to keep running the citizens out of the nation, and the ones that do stay are becoming angry. the first organization against the royal family already formed, calling themselves outlaws. and they're not just ordinary citizens. they could infiltrate the two higher districts if they want to. a solution is not to only keep them happy, but to also prevent a war."
"then strengthen the security. we also have equally skilled men, if not, more. send any able-bodied men to the gates of the first and second district and don't let anybody from the lower threes enter."
age 18:
things only get worse. nobody is allowed to travel freely between the districts anymore and anyone from the first two were strongly advised not to go down because the chances of getting robbed or assaulted are high.
the four working men in the house dwindled down to two because the other two, including jongho, would be sent to guard the entrance. but during rotation when he gets to come back to sleep and eat, he'd tell you that it's eerily quiet, but that all the lower districts know the higher ones are blocking off entrance and might retaliate soon.
"we should be prepared for the worst. hongjoong said the fact they're quiet might mean the organization is planning something."
age 19:
for a while, security at the entrance decreases when it looks like the lower districts weren't gonna try to do anything about it.
jongho and the other men in the house were able to stay around longer, sometimes even for a few days straight without going back, and the outrage did feel like it was just a false alarm.
no one in the higher districts, even hongjoong, were prepared for the storm that is after the calm.
"y/n! wake up!"
you groggily groan at the voice, sounding both hushed but eager as it jolts you from sleep.
it's jongho and he looks absolutely terrified, his figure hovering over your body still in bed.
"come on, y/n! we have to get going!"
you don't have the time to take in anything, jongho already pulling you up harshly to stand on your feet as you hurl out more groans and complaints.
"what's going on? i was sleeping, you know."
"the king is dead."
it's those words that makes you more awake than ever, unable to believe as you just stare dumbfoundedly while he ravages the drawers for more appropriate clothings.
"w-what? h-how?" you can barely form anything coherent at this point, your heart racing so fast.
"he was assasinated," jongho reveals, throwing a loose, oversized shirt at you. "we're not sure how they managed to get that far up the first district, but all this time, that must've been what they were preparing for--you need to get changed."
he throws you a pair of pants and continues speaking, at the same time going through almost the entire perimeter for anything that will prove useful.
you don't even care he's in the same room, your body going into shock and quickly pulling the night gown off before putting on what he gave you.
"hongjoong thinks they're planning a raid, starting from the second district and working their way up. if we stay here, we could get captured, held hostage, or whatever those outlaws want to do with us--here."
he finds the dagger he had given you sitting in the last drawer, pulling the extra sheath out of his pouch and running to tie it around your waist.
"keep this with you at all time, and remember what i taught you. just in case we ever get separated, you need to protect yourself," he demands, passing the dagger to you with an extremely serious look on his face along with the statement just now, making you queasy in the stomach.
you can't imagine having to part from jongho for whatever reason. you wouldn't know what to do.
he gestures to your shoes and you wear it quickly.
"now come on, let's go!" he grabs your wrist and your body flings forward, only managing to grab the pouch on top the dresser before your feet's following his steps out the door despite the lingering sleepiness and that you could be forgetting something else, but it's all happening so fast, your mind struggling to keep up.
you're about to ask him about the other servants, or the noble family, but as he whisk you into the nightly air, the breeze pushing past your skin, you realize that before jongho came, you were alone.
they all left you.
"where are we going?" you ask.
"down to the third district. hongjoong lended me a map and said to go through the forest, we'll catch less attention that way. he said we can stay at one of his hideouts for now."
for the next hours, you don't see anything but trees and branches in your way, and the moon high above the dark sky as it follows both you and jongho.
your feet tired and sore at this point, asking jongho to find a place to sit even for just a few minutes because you might just pass out.
"if we keep at this pace, we'll be able to make it to the third district by morning," he informs, handing over the costrel and telling you to drink.
you nod, passing it back after finishing, observing for a few seconds as jongho takes a couple sips.
"so where did everyone else go?" you finally bring up the question bothering you.
"to the lower districts. i heard some are hoping to reach the port so they'll get the chance to sail to aurora or dune, now that the royal family is in a crisis, people don't care anymore. but as you already know, we have limited ships and boats and it's going to be a bloodbath all around."
he goes on, "we only found out the king was dead when people from the first district started migrating, and then everyone in the second started panicking, and i honestly did too initially. i was about to start heading down until i remembered you."
you smile and nudge the boy with your elbow affectionately.
"if not for you, i probably would've turned into a corpse by tomorrow."
"pfft," he scoffs, "not a corpse but a captive maybe. their target is still the royal family, and now that the king is dead, they'll most likely go after the prince. the raid is just to scare people off so they can bask in the lavish that the first and second district has to offer. but still, it's better to be safe than sorry. they did killed the king, after all."
you take in the information, asking one last question.
"and where is hongjoong?"
"he was also in the second district at the time, but after lending me the map and instructions, he said he's gonna go up in order to get more details; hopefully talk to the prince and will report back in a few days."
"do you think he's going to be okay?"
jongho nods and stands up from the log, reaching his hand out to help you.
"he should be. he wouldn't be able to survive for this long if he isn't competent. but we should get going or else the trip will be delayed."
--
the hideout is a small shack in the corner of the wood, blending into the surroundings so perfectly, you and jongho almost missed it.
it's essentially a square with a single wooden bed, one chair, and a small table with an ewer sitting on top. jongho said the water in there should still be good to use, and that he brought enough breads to survive on for a few days.
"i can take the floor," he says, taking off the crossbow and sword that's been stuck to his body for an entire night and settling them down.
"we can take turns," you offer an alternative, pitying the boy because he's the one who's been doing most of the works.
"alright."
he nods it off. he wasn't gonna fight you on it.
you and jongho passes time by training for the majority of time. sometimes, you'd just watch, but when he isn't worn out by his own routine, he'd tell you the basics of a crossbow and a knightly sword and would proceed to watch you practice with the dagger.
"you're holding it like a coward who's never fought in their life," is his usual criticism.
"well maybe cause i am a coward who has never fought before," you will retort.
"when facing an enemy, you can't show that you're afraid. you have to believe in yourself."
"easy for you to say."
but regardless of his yapping that sometimes make you roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head, he's a good teacher and even complimented you. if saying that you're a lot less awful than when you started, counts.
three days later from when you both settled, the light, passive knock at the door alerts you and jongho, you almost wishing it was one of the outlaws, preferably a weaker member just so you can put what you've learned to use.
but it's hongjoong.
"so what did the prince say?" jongho asks, quick and eager.
"he's recruiting. said he'll take in anyone still willing to stand by his side while he figure things out. he needs time."
"what about the guards and men that were in the castle? isn't it their duty to protect the royal family?"
"more than half of them ran to the lower districts. the outlaws probably won't do much to a normal citizen, but they will be vile to anyone on the prince's side."
"and he didn't try to stop them?" you join, hongjoong turning his head to you and shaking.
"he said he wasn't gonna force anyone who didn't want to stay. but for those willing to fight by his side, he'll take them."
you don't mean to come off hypercritical, but you can't help but think that the prince is being careless.
"but the outlaws want him dead, no? he shouldn't be taking in just anybody. that's too dangerous."
hongjoong just shrugs.
"that was his order."
a silence hangs between the three of you after, and one glance at jongho, you see that conflicted look in his eyes and know that he's about to say something you won't like.
"i'll go."
you snap your neck to him so fast, there must've been a pop.
"what--jongho, no," you object, worry in your tone. hongjoong just standing by and watching the incoming dispute unfold.
"it's better than standing around and waiting for something to happen."
"but putting your life on the line? for all you know, there might not even be a solution at all. look at the state of the kingdom. people are running away, everyone fearing for their own safety. in the end, you could be dying for nothing. did you forget it's because of these people that us born in the lower districts have to live a shit life?"
by now, you're both facing each other and fuming through your noses.
"and did you forget that we haven't been to the lower districts in years? ever since we got the opportunity to move into one of the top two? even if we were just servants, we were living better than a normal family in the fifth district. i was guarding and blocking off an entrance because i was so much better than the people trying to get through. you think i enjoyed doing that shit? no. but it was my job. in some ways, we betrayed our roots, y/n. and you're right. the prince could be lying and stalling out of his ass, but you know... i'm hoping that he's not. because for once, i want to feel like i'm doing something worthy. i didn't train all my life just to guard gates where nothing ever fucking happens nine out of ten times."
you watch in disbelief as he turns to pick up his crossbow and sword.
"so whether you like it or not, i'm going."
he gives hongjoong a stern look, to which the older man returns one, but is soon carried away by your voice again.
"then i'm going with you."
and jongho knows he's going to sound like a hypocrite; the fact he cares for you as much as you care for him so he doesn't want you to put yourself in the face of danger.
he also understands that you share the same sentiment in regard to him, which is why you don't want him to go.
"no. it's safest for you to stay here. you don't have the same training and combat that i do. you can barely hold a dagger the right way and it's one of the most light and basic weapon. those outlaws will pummel you like a bug."
you roll your eyes and you can see hongjoong trying to hold in his laughter.
"well geez, thanks, master. but boohoo. all i know is that i need to stab," you snark, managing to pull a small smile from jongho before switching tone. "i'm serious, though. i know i'm not gonna be pounding anyone, but i'd still like to come with. it would put a lot of my worries to rest knowing you're alive and okay."
"i'll be fine, y/n," he assures, one hand on your shoulder, "and if it'll make you feel better, if hongjoong doesn't mind, he can come once in a while to inform you of what's going on."
you meet hongjoong's gaze at that and he nods with a thin smile.
but that's still not good enough for you because how can you possibly be okay with the only person you can call family, going off and risking his life?
you're not.
which is why when they both finally depart, you wait until they're a good distance away yet still visible to the eye, tying the sheath the way jongho did and sticking your dagger in before taking the costrel he left for you along with the remaining breads and following right behind them.
hongjoong used to travel on horseback but he has to be more discreet this time around, especially going up the higher districts.
you're somewhat thankful for that because you're not sure you can keep up if that was the case.
you stop when they stop, and rest when they rest. you would try listening in on their conversations but it's always inaudible from where you're at.
you put aside the pain of an aching feet or fear of the nightly forest, afraid you would give yourself out.
two days later, you're sure you guys are close. a part of you somewhat curiously pumped because you've never wander up the first district before.
with the sun setting and the stars soon to come out, you're hoping to arrive before it gets too dark because you really are dreading the idea of spending another night hidden behind itchy bushes.
dragging yourself up the steep hill, you can't help but to admire the scenery, the air of utopia still fresh and the birds still chirp like the nation is whole, resuming your steps only to see that you've lost sighting of jongho and hongjoong, and if you're any quicker, they will catch on.
you don't panic just yet, although you're getting nervous, but carrying on because the castle shouldn't be too far from here. as soon as you can spot it, it should be easy to trace it back to the two.
the only problem is how you're gonna get in once you reach it.
as you get closer to the top, you can spot the castle's head peaking, and once finally on flat land, you're able to see the entire thing, and the dazzling white architecture is hard to miss.
the heart and soul of utopia planted right in the center of the first district, and you've never seen anything more sophisticated in your entire life. but as you sneak closer, you're sure that you're not even gonna make it past the portcullis.
if you don't find jongho, you'd be coming all this way for nothing.
--
you've been watching the guards at the gate and their patterns of behavior for the last hour, every time inching closer to the entrance with the least amount of noise as possible.
but you should've known. you've overestimated your ability (by a large margin) thinking you can outsmart people who does this for a living, and of all places, it had to be royal family's. stupid.
you barely take a step when the pressure of a sharp object against your back make your eyes go wide in horror.
you're thinking this is it. you should've listened to jongho and should have not acted like such a know-it-all, because the next time he sees you, it will be in corspe form.
the beating of your heart is loud along with the stranger's breathing, their hand going retrieve your dagger from the sheath, and if they attack, you will have no other way to defend yourself.
"who the hell are you and why are you sneaking around my castle?" the deep, masculine tone drowns your ears.
my castle?
you foolishly turn around like an idiot, feeling the pressure of the object move to your neck instead, looking up at this mysterious stranger but unable to make anything out.
the running of footsteps and commotion can be heard from behind you, a series of voices and better lighting approaching with all the torches in the guards hands, and when you're finally able to make out the pair of eyes staring back, it feels as if you forgot how to breathe.
because if it isn't the most beautiful man you've ever seen, dark locks, sly and sharp eyes to that of a fox that looks disapproving of your choices before it turns slightly softer when he sees how harmless you actually look, the weapon in his hand lowering with a clear of his throat.
"what part of 'it's safest if you stay here' did you not understand?"
jongho's loud and frustrated voice echoes through the entire hall, pacing back and forth in place as he reprimands you in front of hongjoong, the prince, and his other royal companions.
the prince (who you have to make a point one more time that he's devastingly beautiful) was unexpectedly casual when you explained to him you were looking for your friends, even returning your dagger.
"i only came because i was worried about you. i know you would do the same for me."
"yes, but something could've happened to you. you could've gotten lost, or worse."
"as you can see, i'm fine. the most life threatening thing was the prince putting a knife to my back and neck."
"because you were limping around the castle like an idiot."
"well, what was he doing outside of it anyways?"
"why are you talking about the prince like that!" he yells, and the both of you having an awakening at the same time, registers how embarrassing and inappropriate it actually is to be having a screaming match in the royal family's hall, turns to the prince and bow in apology.
"sorry," you both mutter.
"it's fine," the prince dismisses.
when you were still living at the orphanage, some of the kids would often play guessing games about the prince just because the chances of ever meeting him were close to none, everyone might as well get creative.
some assumed he's a snob because kids being kids, they were all jealous of the fact he was living better, and so it's only natural he would think he's better than everyone else.
then some thought he looked like a troll, which was why the king and queen kept him inside most of the time.
none of you guys knew a lot about the prince, but there were words on the street that he almost never went out of the castle; some even using that as confirmation for why he's a stuck-up.
but after meeting him, he's nothing like the kids have predicted.
he definitely does not look like a troll or sound like a snob, at least so far. he's actually rather soft-spoken, though a bit aloof and stoic. but you suppose one isn't gonna be jolly after the death of their father.
--
jongho had insisted that you go back immediately, and you were considerate of the castle's deities enough to pull him outside just to object.
but you only got another line in the quarrel before the prince intervened and much to jongho's dismay, said you could stay for the night since it was getting late and traveling would be difficult.
"but you're leaving as soon as the sun comes up!" he proceeds to nag the entire time you tuck yourself to bed, the prince kindly offering a spare chamber for you to stay in.
"yes. i know," you reply, all snarky tone and turning to face the other way because he's getting on your nerves.
there's a quick silence before the edge of the bed creaks with his weight.
"look, i know you only came because you were worried about me, and you're right, i would do the same for you."
you toss slowly to look him up in the eyes from your position.
he goes on, now locking you in his gaze, "but it's way too dangerous for you to stay here, and we don't know when they're going to attack. and worse, if they see you're in alliance with the prince, who knows what they'll do? i'll be fine. this is what i've trained my whole life for. you just have to believe in me."
you sigh and frown, finally deciding to cave because you do know that jongho is capable. you've never doubted him. it's the opponents that you're unsure of, their next moves could be anything.
"i'll go back, but hongjoong still needs to follow the end of the deal."
jongho smiles warmly, relieved you're no longer trying to fight him on this.
"he'd be happy to."
you nod, figuring that since you're already here, you might as well ask.
"so how many men volunteered?"
"for now, three. me, someone named yunho from the third district, and another guy named minjun. but more might wind up later, who knows."
"i still don't think it's smart of the prince to be taking in just anyone. it's way too risky. you have good intentions, but what about the two other?" you voice concernedly, your forehead starting to crease from the distress.
you just met the prince, but you know that the idea is ridiculous and you don't want him meeting the same fate as his father.
"optimism maybe? i don't know. more than half of the royal family's protections are gone so he probably can't be too picky. but i'd like to think he knows what he's doing."
but he's also still young and is currently in a worse position than his father, the king, who couldn't even save utopia. you don't think anybody is ready to be in his place, let alone lead an entire kingdom that's falling apart.
"alright. then you should return to the others; help them look after the prince. he's going to need it."
"actually, he ordered us to stay with the queen and princess."
you shoot up from position, incredulity written all over your face.
"what--why? all of you guys? then who's going to look after him?"
jongho shrugs.
"i disagree as well, but after all, he's the prince. we can't disobey orders."
"you guys should be allowed to if it's foolish. what is going on in his head?" you shake your own, unable to believe it.
you just know that something bad is gonna happen, and it would be due to the prince's own incompetence.
jongho has no idea either given he only just met him as well, but he's crossing his fingers the prince will prove both of you wrong.
"i have to go. you should get some rest because you'll be leaving in the early morning. i'll see you then."
--
you're woken up by a heavy disturbance, the ruckus happening outside of the room but also sounding so close.
it might be best if you stay here; leave whatever the noises is to the guards in the castle, but you just feel it in your guts that your prediction have came true.
carefully opening the door, you peek your head out, immediately drawn to the bright light illuminating at the end of the hall, and soon, your quick and eager feet has taken you to the shocking sight.
the prince standing before jongho and another guard as they hold back someone you can't quite recall. one of his hand tending to the cut on his left arm, and you can see the red seeping through the thin white fabric.
the prince meets your eyes when he notices you standing outside.
"i knew it!" you screech, your turn to pace back and forth as jongho watches from the side. "he shouldn't have just taken in anyone!"
you found out it was minjun, one of threes who volunteered along with jongho, who attacked the prince. apparently, he had snuck away from the other guards and was in the prince's room within minutes, a sword aimed at the young royal that could've taken his life.
"luckily, he only got off with a cut. i can't even imagine what would've happened."
jongho groans anxiously, the first day on the job and the reality of it already showing its head.
"there's nothing luck-based about the prince's survival," hongjoong's voice has you both turning as he appears from the opened door.
"prince san isn't only highly skilled in all areas of fighting, but he's the best warrior utopia has to offer. he most likely knew about the attack beforehand, which was why he only got away with a cut considering minjun also isn't just an average member of the outlaws," hongjoong reveals, the new information makes you and jongho gawk at each other in surprise.
"y/n," he calls out, and you detach from jongho's eyes to look at him.
"yes?"
"i need you to do me a favor. i trust you enough, and you look rather... harmless."
you pinch in your brows. if he wants to go off about your terrible fighting and self defense skill, he might as well just spell it out.
"the prince said he has a plan, but we're going to need to buy time. and no matter how skilled he is, we can't keep dealing with people coming into the castle in attempts to severe the prince's head. it's best if he's away until we can figure things out, for his safety and the kingdom's."
you only hum and nod, wondering where exactly this is going.
"he'll be leaving with you in the morning."
your face falls in horror, unable to believe they're entrusting the prince to you. the thoughts of being alone with someone like him both terrifying but weirdly stimulating.
"oh my gosh, she's blushing..." jongho yelps, a smirk tugging at his lips. he's seen the way you'd ogle at the prince, definitely something you never did to any other men.
"i'm not!" you cry defensively, embarrassed. "i-i just don't think i'm the right person."
"we just need the prince away from the castle for a few days. for now, it look like the outlaws are not planning on moving up the first district entirely, so the rest of us should be safe as well for the time being. you still remember the way back to the shack, right?"
you nod hesitantly.
"good. then it's settled."
--
the following morning, everyone bids farewell to the prince, the queen and princess wishing him well as the guards and hongjoong stack him with equipments, while jongho makes you carry the food and water.
he takes off the royal attire, disguising himself in commoner clothings instead, as recommended by his companion, wooyoung.
hongjoong promises to report back once things get relatively better.
at first, it's nerve-racking because you just can't help it. the prince is so handsome and your touch-starved body just reacts naturally, but once you figure he isn't gonna talk to you, only gesturing or murmuring out short instructions, the spark wears off.
"we should stop and rest for the night," he speaks more than three words for the first time, laying down his stuff and nodding to the tall tree.
"alright."
you settle your things down as well, plopping against the tree and waiting for him to do the same but he instead pulls out the sword and starts slashing the air.
when he takes notice of your gawking from behind, he apologizes.
"sorry, i'm just... practicing, hope you don't mind. you can rest, i'll keep watch."
you nod it off, sleep soon taking over, but when you wake a few hours later, able to tell from the different color painting the sky, the prince is still practicing and seems just as eager as he was before.
"prince," you call out, his movements halting in place as he turns back at the sound of your voice.
"call me san."
you clear your throat, "uh... san, have you slept at all?"
he shakes his head.
"i was practicing."
you stand up, dusting off the dirts from your pants and growing concerned regarding the sleepless prince.
"you can sleep. i'll keep watch and if there's anything, i'll wake you up," you offer, but he's quick to reject the proposal.
"no need to. i'm not tired anyways. if you're feeling fully rested, we can keep going. the sun is almost up."
you watch in dejection as he goes to retrieve his things because you're not sure you can believe he's not even the tiniest bit tired from everything so far.
--
it takes almost an entire day to reach the destination, your body tired and aching for something to sit on, the minute you reach the shack, you're sprawled all over the chair.
the prince looks just fine, though.
"it's small, but comfortable," you assure the prince just in case he has any doubts in mind. because you initially did, too, but it was surprisingly homey when you last stayed with jongho.
he nods, eyes roaming the small interior.
"it'll do."
"you can take the bed. i don't mind taking the floor," you tell him, but he instead shakes his head.
"the bed's all yours. i'll be outside practicing."
you scowl and sit up from your seat.
"again? we've been traveling all day. you should really get some rest considering you didn't get any the night before."
but he's stubborn, grabbing for his sword again as you can only sigh in disapproval.
"i really don't feel tired."
"then you should eat, at least."
"i'm not hungry."
you end up going to bed alone, only listening to the prince's grunting and slashing outside as he practices like he's trying to reach out to something or someone.
the uneasiness consuming you, seeing him always looking so miserable as if something's bothering him, unable to rest or do anything else.
it's understandable because of the circumstances he's in, but you wish he would be kinder to himself.
you only give him another two hours before taking matters into your own hand, flinging the door open to his figure dancing around the area with his sword, calling his name softly that makes him stop in track to look at you.
"enough," you mumble, quiet but stern, prying the weapon out of his hold with so much power, you think jongho would be proud.
"no, i have to pr--" he reaches for the sword but you move back, the prince grabbing only the nightly air in place.
"no, you don't," you spit, your free hand going to grab his wrist and dragging him back inside. "you need to eat and rest."
the sword clinks the flooring when you drop it, sitting san down on the bed and grabbing some of the breads and dried meat before taking the seat next to him.
"i understand you're going through a lot right now and it's tough, but you need to take care of yourself. you can't wear your body out or punish it. you're not even fully healed from the cut. if something happens, if worst comes to worst, you need to be prepared to fight."
you push the food toward him but he doesn't budge the slightest. his eyes trained on it, but everything else completely frozen.
for a second, you think all the efforts is gonna go to waste because the prince won't listen, but much to your surprise, he starts talking.
"my father and everyone around me would always say i was the best fighter in the entire kingdom; that i was one of a kind, gifted from a young age, and the future of utopia. i used to believe that as well, but what kind of prick can't even save his own father?"
a small gasp fall, fussing under your breath, "san..."
"maybe i'm only as great because i had the access and materials to become great. but in actuality, i would be no more than average in any other scenarios."
"san, you are great. hongjoong said you are, and you even fought off minjun. it's not your fault what happened to your father," determination in your delivery, finding yourself oddly caring for someone you barely knew.
"father did always lived every day as if it was his last. he knew everyone was out to get him..." he fidgets with one of the breads before taking a small bite out of it. "i thought it would make me feel better if i caught his killer, but i really don't feel any different."
"so hongjoong was right. you knew about the attack?"
you watch as he ogles at the piece of bread like it's the most interesting thing in the world, noddling lightly and taking another bite.
"somewhat, yeah. i was the one who found my father's body, and you can imagine… it's not easy for any kid to see their own parent blue in the face, lying lifeless in front of them, and especially knowing their murderer got away. it made me vengeful, but i couldn't act recklessly. i had to set up a bait because i didn't know who it was, but i knew they were coming."
you listen to each of his words so attentively, and you make sure he knows.
"it could've been your friend, jongho, or the others that came along. it could be anyone. it could be all of them. but regardless, whoever it was wanted me dead just like my father and wouldn't have passed up the chance."
you exhale, looking at the prince with sympathy and sadness in your eyes, all this time you really gave him too little credits, one of your hand somehow finding itself on top his resting one and soothing it.
"i can't do much, but i'm here to listen. if we're going to be together for a while, we might as well have each other's back."
and when san finishes his food and actually goes to sleep for the rest of the night (although you did have to fight him about sleeping on the floor), you finally feel at ease, able to go to sleep knowing he's not pushing himself.
san is the first thing you see upon waking up, his figure bending down a couple feet away and drinking out of the costrel.
he knows you're up from the movements, turning to meet your tired eyes.
"good morning."
"good morning, san."
"you should eat first. i left some out for you."
"oh, okay."
you nod politely, throwing the blanket off and getting up from the makeshift bed, but first telling him that you're gonna go wash your face.
"i checked the ewer. there's no more water in there."
"hmm," you hum, attempting to come up with a solution. "i'm gonna go down to the river. i'll be back in a bit."
"wait." his call stops you in track, half your body out the door. "i'd like to come with."
"is that okay? i mean... will that be safe?" because now that the prince is with you, you feel it is your responsibility to keep him out of danger no matter how unskillful you are. you don't want a single sighting putting his life on the line (more than it already is).
"we'll make it quick. besides, i need to wash up as well. i don't feel too clean from all those practices."
the river is actually quite close by, having never been there during your stay in this district but following the sound of nature was relatively easy to do. and you suppose hongjoong chose the spot for this reason.
once there, you're splashing your face immediately and rejoicing in the cool sensation, only just registering san's been watching you the entire time when you turn and meet his piercing gaze.
his expression blank before dropping to a smile at your wide-eye. and the first time that he does, you realize you've never seen him smile, ever. your attention taken away by the deep indentations appearing from his cheeks, and for just a second, your heart feels like it might explode.
but it's his turn with the river, you observing as he mimics you until both your faces are wet and raining with droplets.
"here," you say, pulling out the spare handkerchief you had remember to bring before coming, offering it to him then using the other one for yourself.
he thanks you, about to wipe his face when the striking design catches his eye.
"this is beautiful," he comments, your head snapping his direction. "did you make it yourself?"
you nod shyly.
"i picked up embroidery somewhere after sewing for a while."
the conversation continues on the walk back, san asking the questions because he just grasped the revelation he doesn't know anything about you.
aside from trying to sneak into his castle and being the friend of one of his guards, that's as much as he can recall off the top of his head although you're quite literally in a life or death situation with him.
"you said you picked up embroidery, so are you from the second district?"
san knows almost everyone who lived in the first district, having spent his entire life and becoming familiar with the surrounding neighbors.
during the occasional balls and parties, he'd get acquainted with some from the second districts. but he's never seen you before. if he did, he would probably be able to recognize you.
but he knows that a hobby and skill like embroidery was something only those in the top two could afford. it was a luxury, as much as san hates putting it like that.
you giggle at the thought and shake your head.
"i was a servant for a family from the second, but i'm originally from the fifth. i picked up embroidery because the daughter of the family was pressured into learning and i was there to help sometimes."
"oh..." is all he says.
maybe he expected you to have some noble blood or be from greatness, but the only thing close to the two were the shoes you shined and the people you served.
your entire life, nothing about you was ever great or noble.
you may have ran from the lower district for a better life, but you were never ashamed of where you came from.
it made you who you are, and if anything, you're a survivor.
"yeah..." you mumble, stopping once reaching the shack again.
he picks it up from your tone, correcting himself to make sure you don't misunderstand, "no. i didn't mean it like that. i'm just, curious about you and your background."
"oh?" you squeak, "then what do you want to know, prince."
you take a seat where he was sitting before, reaching for the food he left for you and looking up at him from where you are, wondering what kind of prince would want to know about a commoner like you.
"an iris," he refers to the pattern embroidered on the handkerchief, "was there a reason why you chose it?"
you smile softly, the question taking you back to a lane of memories and nostalgia.
"it was both of my parents' favorite flower. they always did clung onto any sort of hope there was when it came to our living conditions, and father would always used to say the iris not only symbolized that, but also courage and bravery. i don't know how true that is, but i tend to associate the flower with my parents. it was all i managed to take when me and jongho ran from the second district."
"that's sweet," the prince says, making your eyelashes bat as he plops down at the end of the makeshift bed but he never once look away from you. "and where are your parents?"
the death of your parents was once something that was difficult to talk about; a reality that you used to deny because you couldn't accept that they're no longer by your side and sharing the same struggles. because you guys did suffered a lot, but you all had each other.
and suddenly, you only had yourself.
it wasn't until jongho that you started to open up again; learn to let someone into your heart; to share the same struggles and to suffer all over again, but at least with someone by your side once more.
and it's with that lesson that you allow the prince in as well, unveiling some parts of yourself, for some reason feeling like you can entrust it to him.
"they passed away. the fishermen said the sea took them. it's been a long time and i've come to terms with it."
you don't miss the way his chest fall and a sullen look takes over his expression.
"i'm sorry to hear."
his life experiences and pain could never compare to anyone from the lower districts, he understands that all too well; how good and privileged he's had it.
but grief doesn't discriminate, and the feeling is... debilitating.
it makes you go into denial, nothing but a directionless road laying ahead, unable to help but think if you ever will recover.
but he feels a little better after talking to you, a living proof that no matter the loss or grief one goes through, there's a chance he will make it out fine in the end.
--
you're about to go off to bed when you suddenly remember what hongjoong had told you.
"prince," you call from below, the title just naturally rolling off despite the plenty of time he's made clear you can call him by his name.
"we have to change the dressing on your wound."
you get up to go search through one of the heavy bags, digging for some clean linens and vinegar the others had made sure to pack for the prince.
"hongjoong said we should change it every couple of days," you tell him, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stands up from the sleeping position. "your arm, prince." you gesture and watch as he rolls up his sleeve.
your cheeks for some reason start heating up at the sight, the blinking and nervous twitch of your eyes give it away, causing a giggle to tumble out of the prince at your flustered reaction.
"y/n," he speaks, once you've stared for long enough and still have yet to remove the old cloth. "that's what jongho and hongjoong calls you by."
"y-yes." you nod.
"have you ever tend to a wound before?"
"well, no. but i've been instructed on how to."
"i see." he smiles, and you're about to crack at the man in front of you. beautiful smile, perfect features, and some muscular arms to go along with it.
once you've contained yourself (or at least look like it), you unwrap the worn cut-out cloth and replaces it with a new one, every steps of what hongjoong had laid out followed to the very best of your ability.
"thank you, y/n," the prince says one more time, and the last smile on him for the night makes you think he just might be teasing you.
the past few days that you've spent with the prince, he's proven your expectations and predictions wrong over and over again.
almost like everything you've assumed is untrue in the best way possible. his aloof and stoic ways melting into smiles and laughters when you'd tell him stories about the kids back at the orphanage and how they thought he was a troll.
spending days and nights confined to a small space with someone you just met, the idea sounding awful but the reality actually quite nice because it's comfortable with him.
he not only speaks well, his words always the most soft and unoffending as they can be, but he also listens well.
day by day, the doubts you had--whether he would be able to salvage utopia, changes to the hope and belief that he's more than competent to pull it off.
but there's still questions bothering you; the strangeness of the entire picture in how utopia managed to fall to a state this bad in the first place if the prince is as level-headed as he presents himself.
he at least should've been talking sense into the king.
so you finally ask, during a routine morning where you and san have gotten accustomed to waking up the crack of dawn, sitting facing each other and munching away on portions of food that becomes less the more days pass by.
"san," you start, his name now more comfortable on your lips. it makes him pick his up head from the food to you.
"hongjoong said you have a plan, right? the reason they sent you here was to buy time. i-i was just wondering where does it go from here?" you try your utmost best to not sound meddlesome.
you're just worried.
because as much as you enjoy the time together, the unknown makes you uneasy. you don't want to doubt him but you also don't want everything so far to be for nothing.
it's the prince's personal affairs and not yours, but you just wish for there to be assurances; some kind of proof that speaks he knows what he's doing, because the closer you get to him, the more you fear losing him.
"i have a plan, yes," he answers, the calm demeanor on him a complete contrast to the troubled one on you. "why? are you worried?"
you breathe out, eventually nodding timidly.
"it's just that the state of the kingdom right now is really bad and it's going to take a lot to please the citizens, especially the group of rebellions. the idea of peace just seems so... unreachable."
you already sound like you're about to break down, when the prince--the one actually having to deal with it, looks the most calm and collective.
he acknowledges the concern, thinking it's fairly reasonable. actually, he's surprise everyone's been able to restrain themselves from spiraling for this long.
if he was someone else, he don't think he'll be able to put his trust into an inexperienced prince in hope of him saving the entire nation as well.
"the people of utopia isn't aware, but about a decade ago, the king of aurora, the closest neighboring kingdom to us had offered to help the nation after witnessing the terrible conditions most of the lower districts were suffering from," san reveals, "but my father... he denied the help."
you squeeze your brows in disbelief.
"what--why?"
"the king of aurora only requested for utopia's protections and services in return. as you know, we may lack in every other aspects, but armed forces is our strength. almost every men in the nation has some kind of experience when it comes to fighting or self defense. aurora is a peaceful and harmonious nation, but their men do not have the same training, combats, or skills that we do, and the king of aurora acknowledged the fact. though aurora was very unlikely to get into an altercation with another nation, the king said he would feel a lot better with utopia behind them."
"my father didn't see a point in tying ourselves down, binding an 'unnecessary' responsibility to our back. he said our ancestors' done it for hundreds of years without help and it will continue to be that way. ever since then, aurora has shunned us. they're not gonna start a war over it, but in other words: they hate our guts."
there's a pause from the prince, something shifting in his eyes before he starts again.
"i love and cherish my father. he is my father after all, and most of everything i've been taught were from him. i also understand that some of the things he did were for my mother, me, and my sister. but i wouldn't ever tell him i also think he's selfish; that i disagree with his view of the world; with his way of running things."
the pain in the prince's voice and delivery is seeping, your heart curling at the amount of hurt he must keep to himself, but if you can be the one to lessen it just a little, you will listen to his every words.
"but still, he's my father and i miss him. no matter how selfish and unreasonable he was most of the times, i promise that after everything is over, i will hold a proper burial for him. i will also repay everyone that stood by my side... i promise that."
his volume tapers near the end, his gaze melting into yours at the last statement.
"i also promised i will correct the mistakes of those who came before me, and if it takes my life, at least i'll be content that i went down with my morals. that i fought for what i believed in, even if the ancestors come back to tear me to shreds for it."
you chuckle, attempting to hold back just the smallest tear pricking the corner of your eye because all you ever did was doubt and doubt, and every single time, he always proved you wrong in the best way possible.
"so you're going to attempt to make a truce with aurora?"
he nods.
"i have to try. if we want equality for everyone, we can't do it without the help of aurora. if we do it now, without aide, the nation will fall apart no different than it is now. no amount of transports based on utopia alone will be enough. but aurora's economy; the standing of their nation is stable enough that helping utopia back on its feet will barely feel like a lift of a finger to them."
"but how would the message reach them?"
"on the day that i got attacked, i sent out one of my men, seonghwa. he knows the way around the sea best. by now, considering it's almost been a week, he should have already reached aurora, but it will take another couple of days to return. that's why i need to buy enough time for seonghwa to come back. i know the citizens won't believe it until they see the king and prince yeosang of aurora for themselves."
"and just what if the king and prince rejects the offer?" you're just trying to touch upon all possibilities.
"you see... i've thought of that as well. in fact, there's probably a bigger chance of them dismissing it considering our history and all. but if that was the case, i had already told seonghwa to head for dune next. it will take him at least another week and a half because of the distance, but if worst come to worst, that's our last hope. dune would be a lot harder to get on our side because they're not lacking in anything, their only weakness is they don't have any kind of alliance. and i was hoping after we sign a treaty with aurora, we could try for dune because they'd be more willing then, knowing we also have aurora, but that's only wishful thinking."
"you really thought everything through, huh?" you have to admit, you're impressed.
"you have no idea. every night after my father's passing, i barely got any sleep... until you finally enforced it upon me."
you giggle, meeting a soft smile on the prince's lips.
"well you need it. and seeing as intricate the plan of action is, you're going to need it even more. don't overwork your body, get plenty of rest in preparation of the big day. i believe you'll be able to do it."
there's a quick silence in the air before the prince speaks again.
"thank you... for believing in me, and keeping me sane of all things."
"my pleasure."
"but if hongjoong doesn't show within a few days, or does with the bearer of the bad news, we'd have to be prepared for relocation. they will pick up that i'm not in the castle and will try looking for me. if dune is the alternative, we're going to have to buy even more time."
"here," san says, coming from behind to stand in front of you, pulling out his own.
after observing one of his practices, he had asked how familiar you are with daggers since he recalled ripping it out of your sheath that day.
you said all understanding you have of it were from jongho, though he liked to find fault in your execution, and after a couple demonstrations, the prince seems to agree that there's a few areas you could improve on.
"a dagger is a short distance combat. some of the most basic requirements in becoming somewhat skilled at is, is trying to master the three primary positions."
you watch him get into stance.
"the first one is a downward thrust, usually used for an opponent who's not experienced in knife combat."
he acts out the method, thrusting his weapon into the air and turning to you.
"you try."
you attempt to mimic what he just did, the weapon a lot light and easier on your grip because the training from jongho did pay off in some ways.
"not bad," he comments, "just more confidence, and don't be afraid. because trust, when the enemy is coming, they won't hold back."
he tightens your grip on the dagger before stepping away.
"this certain method can also be used when an opponent is equipped with another melee weapon, or a firearm."
you nod, his encouragement and gentle teaching style as he tries reframing from straight up saying you stink in some ways or forms, is definitely preferred.
"got it! you are a much better teacher than jongho by a mile. you're actually nice to me," you joke, and the most flattered smile acrossing san's lips doesn't go unseen.
--
you wouldn't ever say it out loud, not to the prince at least.
that though leaving the place and each other's presence will be for a good cause, in some parts of you, you're already starting to dread the separation.
the parts that already grew fond of him in such a short matter of time, you fear there will never be another chance like this. together.
after everything is over, things will go back to the way it was.
he is a prince after all, and you're just... you.
"so, prince, what is the best defense weapon. figure i should ask from only the most competent person in utopia," you talk from your seat, staring up at him as he preps for another hour of practice.
he promised it'll be only an hour today.
"pfft," he blows, "don't say it like that. you might end up unimpressed."
"i mean it."
"you haven't even seen me on the battlefield."
"but i believe in you."
you hop out of your seat to him, tilting your head, "so?"
"i would say a spear. distance is honestly the best defense there is, though i do enjoy practicing with a sword more."
and that's when it happens. all the long days and nights of peace and harmony comes crashing down, from the corner of your eye catching a cloaked figure from far away standing on top one of the hills with a crossbow in their possession.
"prince!" you cry out, pushing his body away from target the hardest ever as he falls to the ground, and then a short second after, the most painful sensation of your chest being struck takes your vision and breath away.
the last thing you see and hear before fading into utter blackness is the sheer horror on the prince's face as his hands are covered with blood, and the desperate call of your name.
"y/n!"
the sound of jongho's voice makes you think you're in a dream, only until your lids are fluttering open that you see the both, scared but relieved expression of your best friend.
"oh my gosh... thank goodness you're alive."
by how tight he's squeezing your hands, you're glad to know you're not dead just yet.
"where am i?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
"back at the castle. you were out for about four days."
"four days?" you repeat, when the memories come flooding back all at once and then some. "the prince."
you attempt to sit up but the dull pain from where you've been hit prevents you, your head falling back into the pillow.
"easy," jongho soothes your body back into position, "you lost a lot of blood, and not only that, the arrow had been poisoned. luckily, the castle has shelves of antidotes for it, but we were all worried that there was just the smallest chance you weren't gonna make it."
he pauses briefly, "the prince got you here in a day and a half... he felt really bad about what happened. he was by your side the entire time and only just left yesterday night when it was announced the king and prince of aurora have arrived."
"aurora have agreed to a truce?" your tone weak, but still filled with excitement, so happy for the prince.
"yes. and hopefully the prince can get them to sign a treaty. that's the plan. it's still going to take them another two or three days to reach the first district, but the prince wanted to go welcome them formally."
"will he be okay?"
"he's under disguise. but you should get some rest and stop worrying about someone else when you're in a worse condition than them," jongho snarks.
"just making sure..."
a smirk graces your friend, a coy look on him.
"what exactly happened back there that's now making you two act like an old married couple forced to be apart? i've known you for longer than the prince and he looked like he was in more distress than i was."
"nothing that is your business," you dismiss, hoping your cheeks doesn't tint a color that gives it away, a chuckle rolling out of jongho at that.
"you used to want to tell me everything. but fair enough. rest and wait until your body is fully healed. i'll visit you every day to update."
it's hard to wrap your head around the fact you didn't wake up for four days--which, more so, should've been the highlight, but you're more intrigued that the prince was by your side up until the last minute he had to go.
you don't want to get overly giddy about it; go beyond what's appropriate and assume that he did so because of another reason, and not just because he felt bad.
but you do wish to see him soon. even if just for a bit.
--
the next few days is a routine, usually consisting of jongho welcoming you with a wholesome breakfast that's more fulfilling than breads and dried meats, then another meal at dinner.
you're in bed for most of the time, your view usually the ceiling of the castle or the empty space around you, everyone busy and occupied now that the plan is becoming a reality.
jongho tries his best to visit you every day, and hongjoong on the occasion to check your condition, but if they're not patrolling outside, they're in halls discussing the next course of actions.
you've heard that the prince have returned just last night with the royals of aurora, not a single peace or quiet outside of your room since.
you can only hope that the loud and muffled voices outside is an indication that everything is going to work out for the prince; for the kingdom of utopia.
laying around in bed all day, only watching as the sun comes up and down as the wind sways the branches outside the window, wishing you could contribute more, if anything than just wait around all day feeling absolutely useless.
the first creak of the door ever since morning is heard, jongho having told you he won't be able to bring the next meal as he'd be out with the other guards but said someone else would.
and every time, no matter how hard you try burying the inappropriate sentiment, you wish it was the prince, even if just to see him for a minute.
you haven't seen him since that day.
but still, you're grateful to have any interactions at all. even if it's not the prince.
"hey," hongjoong greets, a thin smile on as he goes to take a seat on the stool facing the bed.
"hey hongjoong," you return, finally able to sit up without feeling like your gut's about to spill out.
"you doing better?"
you nod.
"a lot better compared to before."
"good. thought i should drop by to let you know about what's going to happen the next couple of days," his voice a deeper, stern tone, "the prince and royals of aurora will be going down the districts, one by one. the prince wants to let everyone know of the upcoming changes and fix that he has in plan. me and jongho will be away, but yunho and the rest of the guards will stay in the castle with the queen, the princess, and you."
"and how long are you guys going to be gone?"
hongjoong shrugs. "really depends. it could be a week, it could be more than that. traveling down to the fifth and coming back up here is gonna be a while. but as quick as possible, i hope."
"okay..." you frown. "just, stay safe."
you care for their safety and wellbeings more than anything. all three people of whom you're most familiar with, going off and risking their lives again. you're going to feel a certain type of way about it.
but they're doing it for a good cause. for the nation. for everyone. and so you allow to put your heart at rest just a little bit.
"don't worry. aurora brought some protections as well, and if we can convince the second district now overrun by outlaws, the rest of them should be easy."
hongjoong leaves after some last words of encouragment, and him wishing you a fast healing process.
later that night, they all left for the lower districts as stated.
--
the castle grows increasingly quiet, all ruckus from before now dwindled down to almost nothing.
the guards are usually busy patrolling outside, even more now that the prince is out, and the only people that seems to actually be around are the queen and princess.
the princess is the one to bring your meals, and you feel awful about the fact when it should be the other way around.
but she is wonderful. soft-spoken, elegant in her manners, and always with a smile on her face although you know it's not easy for anyone, especially what she's going through.
she bears almost no resemblance to san, but there's still some tell-tale features, like their eyes. the same foxy and slanted characteristic trademark on both siblings that looks so mellow on the princess, but entirely menacing on the prince.
"your tea."
the soft call of her voice would get you up from bed immediately, scooting over to thank her as you two meet eyes.
once you start feeling a lot better, able to stand on your feet and support yourself fully, you stroll the garden with the princess as she reminisce about everything crossing both of your path.
"i, too, wanted to be trained in weapons and self defense, but father said it wasn't suitable for someone like me. he would always take me out to the garden instead, in hope i'd develop a liking for it just so he didn't have to deal with the persistence. and i did... i did blossomed a love for gardening."
you scowl at the revelation.
"well, that's not right."
"it's not, but it was my father's order. he was a stubborn man and didn't like to listen to anyone. i wish i could say i saw anything else for father's ending."
both the prince and princess seems to share a mutual feeling regarding the father figure. though they understand the deeply flawed king, it's hard and conflicting when it's your own father.
"brother taught me what he could, which wasn't always possible because father was always around. but san is a good person... despite the amount of pressure father put on him, i believe he would be a great king. better than father himself."
a smile cross your lips at the mention of san.
"i believe he would be a great king, too," you add. you know he will be, and you wish for nothing more than all his dreams to come true.
"brother san seems to have taken a great liking to you," the princess brings up, recalling the signs and body language of her younger brother when he was with you despite your sleeping state and lack of awareness.
an act of affection and fondness she has never seen the prince give anyone before. not even the noble daughters that would show for events.
"oh, no," you deny, shaking your head, but the way your stomach swoops at the statement is real.
"why not?" she tilts her head, a brow raising. "do you not like him?"
"no--i mean, i do. i like the prince as a friend, but anything more than that would be innappropriate, i think." your volume tapers and your eyes shy away from hers, but the soft giggle makes you snap back.
"love is a beautiful thing. you shouldn't run from it, no matter the class difference or adversities. i know my brother wouldn't."
she smiles and pat your shoulder, abruptly taking your hand and leading the way out of the garden.
"so tell me, did you know that the kingdom didn't used to be divided into districts?"
you hum from behind, "actually, i do. i read it in an old history book i found back at the orphanage."
the kingdom used to just be utopia as a whole. no divisions of anything or labels to anyone. but when the capital found out they could cheat the system and hog all resources and supplies by dividing up the nation, the district system was implemented.
and those who lived furthest from the capital suffered the worst due to change, which was why the fifth district, a once fine ground for fishermen and access to the sea, declined overtime due to the lack of available care.
"yes," she mumbles, letting go of your hand and turning around, your feet screeching with the sudden stop. "brother wishes to abolish the system, after mostly everything gets taken care of, of course. by then, none of this 'social class' would matter as much."
you know she means it from the good of her heart; soul just as kind as her brother, but it is not only the struggle of being a fifth district kid, but also the reality of being a no one as compared to a prince.
--
you get accustomed to the newer routine, waking up the crack of dawn to go help the princess prepare breakfast the best your healing body can. just the smallest, throbbing pinch still there when you sit up, but you're fine nonetheless.
the morning when the sun hasn't even shown its head yet, your body still tired and mind hazy, the opening of the door gets a silent groan out of you as you turn to the source expecting the princess to have something for you so early.
but the sight jolts you from sleep, and you know that it's him, even in the faintest lighting.
"good morning," his voice like velvet has you sitting up, your gaze trained on him the entire time he goes to take a seat at the stool.
"good morning, prince," you return, the smallest amount of joy hiding in your delivery because you really are so happy to see him again.
he went back to the princely attire coloured in white, and his hair a slicked back kind that makes him so handsome, although some strands are loose and slightly messy from the many days gone by.
"san," he corrects you, the sound of his actual name so much better when you say it.
"san," you repeat, a short giggle after that he joins along. "so you're back already. how did it go?"
your expression changing to stern that instant, if you stare at him any longer, you might just burn a hole from how serious you are.
"a lot better than i expected," he answers, a thin smile on as he scoots closer. "i really owe it to the king and prince of aurora. if they hadn't took pity in me, i don't know what else i would've done. but for some reason, they chose to believe in me, and i really am so grateful for that."
he must've been so scared but unwilling to show it. unwilling to give away the fear that the kingdom in his hand is so close to crumbling down by a mere inch, everything could fall apart just like that.
but he had to persist through the hardships and doubts; masking any weaknesses because it would scare away the people if he did. if the ruler of the kingdom itself barely has any faith in the situation.
you reach for his hand, the stronge urge to comfort him as the soft look on you melt into his.
"san, they believe in you because they can see that you're capable. and i believe as well, that you from now on, you will make utopia a better place for the people."
he thinks that you always have such a way with words; how they always make him feel so warm and at ease every time. it's never felt so easy with anyone before.
"y/n," he calls almost in a whisper, taking his hands out of your grasp to now enclose yours. "i apologize for not visiting you. but as soon as i returned and had cleared everyhing with the royals of aurora, i came to you immediately."
"no. it's okay. you have a duty as the prince of the nation, i totally understand. there's no need to apologize."
you can feel his grip on you getting tighter, his eyes a type of desperate but also affectionate.
"but still, you saved my life. you traded yours for mine. to me, you're just as important."
you're surprise by the confession, an array of butterflies dancing in the pit of your stomach and you can see the prince growing more tense, but nonetheless, he persists.
"before i go any further, can i ask you one question first?"
you nod at that. "go ahead."
"you and jongho..." he starts, only to thin out before trying again, "are you guys... dating? or, well, do you like him?"
he's nervous and if he wasn't holding you, he would probably start fidgeting to hide the fact.
"me and jongho?" you quirk an eyebrow, failing to hold back the snicker from the thought while the prince just stares dumbfoundedly.
"i love jongho, but he's more like family than anything. we've been through a lot together but i can't see him in that light."
you've given similar answers out a couple times, especially to the other servants who thought you both had a crush on each other.
the prince's chest drop in relief and you can't hide the amusement you get from it.
"what? you thought me and jongho had something?" you can't stop giggling.
"well, i just had to make sure," he says, a hint of embarrassed and shy that is incredibly cute.
he wouldn't tell you that the one time he actually decided to come in the midst of everything, jongho was already by your side and if you didn't look so happy, he wouldn't have went back because he could tell jongho is someone special to you.
"so?" you await what he has to say, the eagerness only making him more nervous.
the grip on you loosening up to a more softer but more intimate one, one of his thumb running over your hand before he speaks.
"i know this might be too sudden and we haven't known each other for long, but, if your heart isn't taken by anyone, i'd like to ask for a vow."
you just stare ahead and wait for him to finish the sentence, your heart beating exceptionally loud.
"i understand it's a bit abrupt, but... i-i've never felt this way with anybody else. there's something special when i'm you, and i'd like to ask for a vow; a promise that we'll reserve our hearts for each other."
he's so scared, willing to take the chance at first because he will regret it if he doesn't. but now, he's afraid he might've ruined whatever he had with you in the first place, retracting immediately when there's only silence from you.
"but it's not an obligation. you don't have to. i'm just--"
"--i would love to," you cut, watching the panic on his face dissipate that instant.
"really?"
"yes. i would love to," you assure once again, the thinnest smile crossing your lips that soon turns bigger when he returns one.
he's absolutely over the moon to know the feeling is mutual; that what he felt and got from the time together wasn't just because you were compelled to treat him equal to his title.
that something more came out of it.
"but..." you mumble, the smile fading when reality sets in again. "is this going to be okay? you're a prince, and i'm just... me."
"of course it's going to be okay. i don't care who or what you are," he comforts, delivery incredibly passionate, you can't fight it. "but more importantly, before you give me your words once and for all, i need to know if you'll be okay with the conditions first. you can be honest. i won't be upset because i would never try to hold you back regarding anything."
"i'm listening," you acknowledge.
"the citizens of utopia have decided to give me a chance. that chance is not only to salvage the nation, but to also prove to them that i'm capable of leading and won't repeat the same mistakes those who came before we did. i don't know how long it's going to take; specifically how many years. but i will crack down on any remaining harmful outlaw members, i will be traveling in and out of the kingdom a lot, and i will be working on making this nation a better place for everyone. that is something i promised to do, and i will do just that."
he takes a deep breath and start again, eyes on yours. "so if you don't want to wait, i won't hold it against you. if there's things or someone better out there waiting for you, you don't have to accept my proposal. but just if you do... if you're willing to wait for me, once the nation is in a stable state and i don't have to stress too much about being all over the place, i promise then, that i will ask for your hand in marriage."
the bold declaration does take you by surprise, hard to grasp that the prince of all people would want to marry you.
"i know it's a lot to take in," he says, "but you don't have to give me an answer now. whenever you're ready."
you shake your head.
"no--i mean, i would love to. no matter how long i have to wait, i think it'll be worth it. after all, the nation is your priority and the people needs you."
he's taken aback by how fast you made up your mind, but overjoy that you want it just as much as he does. he can't be any happier.
"you're sure you want to do this?" he asks again just to be sure, but crossing his fingers you don't just so happen to change your mind.
you nod earnestly.
"i'm sure. besides, i doubt any guy would ever be interested in me let alone want to get married."
he chuckles, a sound you can to listen all day.
"even if they are, they can't get you now. so i don't want to see any of them trying to woo you or something. and you can't give in because you already gave me your words."
it's your turn to laugh, the jealousy endearing on him.
"well how would i know you'll keep your words, too? what if i wait and wait until i'm a grandma with grey hair only for you to take it back? marry someone else instead and say you don't want me anymore?" you tease.
"tskk," he sneer, "that won't happen, because i would never promise anything i knew i couldn't do. so you don't have to worry."
a reassuring smile spreads across his lips as so does yours, seconds passing by when the silence consumes the room and the both of you just stare at each other, completely smitten.
you notice the slightly fallen strands covering his eyes, going to move it with your finger but your hand stopping at his cheek after, a staring contest ensuing before something comes over you, leaning over to deliver a kiss to his other cheek.
when you pull back, the shy and flustered reaction of the prince brings another giggle out from you.
"i believe you, then. go and show everyone that they made the right choice in giving you a chance. go and make the nation a better place for the citizens. no matter how long, when you come back, i'll be right here... for you."
age 20:
you're twenty years old when the district system is abolished, and when you're nearing twenty-one, it will have been a year since you've spoken to the prince, and will be a few months that you've last seen jongho.
he had been given an opportunity to stay at the castle as one of the prince's permanent companions and took it.
as for you, you moved back to what used to be the fifth district, your heart and soul still full of regard for the place no matter how far you run because every last memory of your parents are rooted here.
you didn't want and couldn't ask for anything in return for the loyalty to the royal family during their toughest time, only taking the coins they had kindly insisted on giving and proceeded to find somewhere to settle. make a life for yourself.
the first few months after declaration of adjustments were as tough for anyone else as it was for you. no matter how positive of an effect, changes are always difficult.
the nobles having to reclaim their homes again after migrating from fear of the outlaws; the party finally retreating, and the former having to piece everything back together with the thought in mind that everything won't be the same, but it will be fair.
the lower districts benefitting the most from the changes but time is their biggest adversary, because though good things are coming, they're not going to come in an instant. having to wait days, months, years, for the full glory to show can be defeating.
but nevertheless, it's coming, and tomorrow will be better than yesterday and so forth. a year later and you can already notice the difference, especially the sea that once gave up on the nation ready to ripple once more.
where you're currently at, you couldn't have done it without the help of those around you. hongjoong who gave you full rights to his hideout in the fifth district because he won't have the use for it anymore, having also been promoted to work alongside the prince.
and with the coins the royal family gave you, you put it into materials to hone the skill you're best at, now finally making a living off sewing and embroidery.
over the year, you've renovated the small shack to your liking with the knowledge you carried from your father, building something for yourself you can call home.
you can still recall that feeling; the first sinking realization of being alone and the taste of freedom. you no longer belonged to somebody or owed anything to anyone. no longer the poor kid just waiting for a better life.
you were your own person, and it feels amazing to be free, though you think it would be even better if he was there.
the thought of him crossing your mind every couple of days, wishing for nothing but only the best for him, hopeful that one day, he will return to fulfill the promise.
"those are some fine handkerchiefs you have there," a young man's voice stops you, spinning around to greet him with a smile.
"you crafted them yourself?" he asks, his tone a type of mischievious that you don't even read into.
"yes," you simply reply, always putting on your best behavior when there's a possible customer. "would you like to take a look at them for yourself?"
"i'd love to."
you untangle the basket from your arm and start going through the many fabrics of your creation.
"wow. not only is the creator herself beautiful, but so are the creations. i've never seen these kind of patterns before," he comments, a smirk on that is both amused and flirty, you can't help the way your cheeks immediately reddens.
the man only seems to find the sight even more endearing as a snicker bubbles out of him while you're still just standing there because you've never met someone so shameless before.
you're about to say something when an arm is thrown around your shoulders instead, turning to the source and your body an immediate mix of relieved, joy, and a skipping heartbeat.
"san..." you say by natural instinct, his unreadable expression meeting yours before moving to the young man in front.
"i'm sorry, i told her to not go wandering by herself but she wouldn't listen. let's go back, honey."
he snatches the basket out of your hold with his other hand and hauls you back the other way.
"i've only been gone for a year and you're already flirting with another man?" he accuses once you're able to flee from his clutch, his steps following right behind you as a pout overtakes his face.
"i wasn't flirting. i was trying to make money," you weakly defend, focus on the path back to your place that you believe the word 'cottage' would be more fitting for.
"you're way too beautiful and talented to be out there spending your days talking to young men."
"pfft," you blow, "and you're way too handsome and princely to be traveling everywhere and going to other kingdoms in the presence of other noble and royal daughters."
"and i'd still choose you, baby."
your heels dig the dirt flooring, snapping around from the pet name, a laughter at the verge of coming out.
san can see the amusement on your face, only smirking in response.
"what? i know you like being called that."
this time, you really do laugh and he follows right after, absolutely in love with everything about you. whether that's snarking back or laughing at him.
"whatever you say, prince," you poke more fun at him before dragging him by the wrist into your place.
"cute what you've done," he pass a comment while you put the basket away.
"yes. and i have just about everything i need."
it's just a little bigger than the hideout back at what used to be the third district, but it has the same convenience in that it's close to the river, cutting out trips to the bathhouse which saves a lot of time.
he nods, the dimpled smile never leaving his face.
"so... what brings you here?" you eventually ask, sitting next to him on your bed, the atmosphere shifting because despite enjoying the banter and mischief of it all, you miss him and haven't seen him in over a year.
"we just returned and arrived at the port this morning, so i wanted to come visit and see how you're doing. you know, to make sure no one was trying to sweep you off by your feet."
you playfully land a slap to his shoulder, snickering.
"you're ridiculous. all year long and my love life is so dry, but the one day someone acknowledges me, you just have to come back," you reply with sarcasm.
"i'm sorry to ruin that for you, but you can't take it back. you promised to marry me, and i will make sure every guy in the kingdom knows that."
you remember the first time meeting san, his state of grief making him almost an entirely different person. quiet, stoic, and always in distress, it's the most wonderful surprise that he's actually a child at heart.
able to let loose once in a while and just have fun.
"no need to. you won't have any competitions at all."
he chuckles quietly at that and closes any remaining distance between you two.
"you speak too lowly of yourself when you're the most beautiful girl i've ever seen."
you bat your eyelashes, shying away from his gaze. you just blush way too easy.
he chuckles at the sight and moves the subject along, "but i also came because i have good news. the king and prince mingi of dune have agreed to a treaty."
"really? t-that's great!" you stumble your wording, beyond happy for him because this was everything he wanted and planned for.
"yeah. it wasn't easy but the fact we have aurora did most of the convincing. dune was... interesting to say the least," he says, briefly recalling the month he spent at the kingdom.
"you did it, though" you smile. "it's only going to get better from now on."
"i hope so. but it seems the real challenge just began. this place is going to need a lot of work."
"that, it is. but for now, you just need to relax. rest a little and eat if you already haven't. i can make you some soup, would you like that?"
he nods.
"i would love that."
he loves how comfortale and easy it is with you. when the weight on his shoulders gets too heavy, he can always rely on you to make it better, even if just for a bit.
--
"so where do i sleep?" he asks, walking back in after washing himself by the river with the towel you gave him.
the day had been nothing short of a dream, eating and cleaning together and just small exchanges that multiplies the butterflies in your stomach.
you wish everyday was like this.
"the floor," you joke, the response making him scowl.
"i'm carrying the nation on my back and you're gonna make me sleep on the floor?" he throws the towel over his shoulder, his wet strands of hair swaying along with his movements.
"that bed looks big enough for the two of us." he points with his chin. "besides, we're gonna get married anyways."
you roll your eyes, snatching the towel from him as you go to ruffle his wet hair with it, his shout of protests underneath coming out muffled.
"fine." you land the fabric back around his neck, crawling into bed and scooting to the wall to make space.
he lays down and faces you, your gaze burning into each other's when he cranks out a smile.
"i'll be leaving in the morning and you might not see me again for a while after. don't you think you should give me something to remember you by?"
your brows furrow, your mind jumping to conclusion considering the position you guys are in and the tone in which he said it.
"i'm not gonna have sex with you," you spit, prompting the loudest laughter ever from him, followed by confusion from you.
"no, of course not. i was talking about another of your handkerchiefs."
"oh..." you murmur, feeling embarrassed.
"not until we get married at least. then, we can do it," he states with confidence, the thought of taking you to bed and inserting control another way is tempting, and he can't wait for the day.
you smack his chest lightly, as flustered as you are, you can't help the giggle that slips out.
a few seconds of silence pass by before he starts moving closer, his breath ghosting your skin and finger going to caress your cheek.
"i really do want to kiss you right now, though," he confess, "if that's okay with you."
you nod as much as your pillowed head allows you to.
"that's okay with me."
you close your eyes shut, trying to keep from flinching as you await his kiss, moments later only for his lips to crash against yours, his hand moving to your jaw and his body pressing forward as the kiss deepens.
you kiss him like it's the last kiss between you and him; like your life depends on it, the bed creaking under as he takes it upon himself to connect your bodies.
he pulls back much to your disappointment, both of your chests heaving and trying to catch your breath, his forehead bumped with yours and tip of his nose brushing your own.
"good enough," he speaks, his breath still not yet returned, "any more than this and i might not be able to contain myself."
you giggle, placing a soft peck on his cheek, flashing one last smile.
"goodnight, prince."
--
"have a safe trip, and take care of yourself," you bless, blue in your heart as san makes his way back to you after speaking to the coachman.
all the laughters and butterflies of yesterday won't be experienced again until who knows how long. he will be away after this, and you will miss him dearly.
you wish he could stay but you know he can't. he has something bigger and better to worry about.
he stops before you, melancholy in his eyes as well. he doesn't want to leave you but he has to. and as much as he wants to take you along, he can't let you bear the same responsibilities and weight.
he wants for you to be there, when he already made everything better.
"you take care of yourself, too." his hands naturally finding itself cupping your cheeks. "don't overwork yourself."
"i won't."
you place your own hands over his, desperate to salvage his touch for one last time.
"when can i expect to see you again?" you ask.
"i don't have a definite answer, but i'll be back. i promise."
you two share one last kiss before you watch him go off, blue still in your heart, but you know that someday, he'll come back, and it will be to stay.
age 23:
you're twenty-three years old when there's a knock at the door one suspicious morning.
living in the middle of nowhere, and even over the years, you're only able to count on one hand the range of selection there is when it comes to who it could be.
"hongjoong?" you squint, the man you haven't seen in forever looking slightly more buffed; mature, his hair styled and attire new and shiny.
"great seeing you again," he greets, still on horseback and glancing down at you.
"would you like to come inside? for some tea or a drink?" you ask, figuring it's only proper etiquette you do.
"i'm good. i only came to deliver something."
you continue squinting, one hand shielding your eyes from the early sun, reaching out when hongjoong hands you a letter and unfolding it.
"an invitation from the prince?" you read, incredulity as you shoot up to look at him.
"yes. the prince is finally accepting his accession to king and the coronation will be held a week from now. that is all i have for today. i have to head back soon."
you have so many more questions but hongjoong already turns his back before you can ask them, settling for staring at the ink in awe when the sound of his voice picks your head up again.
"i hope to see you there. the prince will be expecting you."
--
you leave for the capital the following day, packing only essentials and enough coins, taking along pearl, the white horse you had purchased a year back for traveling purposes.
there's been a lot changes in the four years since san took the reign, all of them for the better, of course.
some of the homes have been revamped, some new ones added, and everywhere you passed, there are greens and beauty in each sceneries.
the citizens look happier, kids a lot less miserable and even those in the orphanages are coming around to the new implements along with those in progress to solve overcrowding.
members of the outlaws have dwindled over time and quieted.
for the first time in hundreds of years, utopia is able to live up to its name in some form; a place of ideal perfection.
so you couldn't fret too much; be upset that in the three years that have passed, san's only visited you once. because if it wasn't for him, the nation wouldn't have been able to achieve the current state.
you travel to the capital with hope, expectation, and excitement at the fact you will be seeing him again; a strong belief that everything will feel just the same as last time.
you stop at inns to rest when the nights fall and start again at dawn, reaching the destination in five days total, the day before san's coronation.
there isn't any difference to the castle, not even a bit. a touch of nostalgia hitting you when thinking back to the event four years ago.
entrance is easy to get through, showing both of the guards who seems to recognize you, the letter.
tying your horse to the nearest tree, you proceed to the door with a pounding heart, banging on it twice before the castle door creaks from the other side, absolutely no idea who the person could be.
"y/n!"
your eyes widen at the sight, that nervousness replaced by delight.
"jongho!"
before he can get another word out, you're already in his arms, the warmth of your best friend something you missed greatly in the full year you haven't seen him.
you can him hear giggling in your hair, pulling away to that goofy smile of his as one settles on your lips as well.
"you came," he simply says.
"of course i did."
jongho takes you inside, your nosy eyes wandering the interior that's also the same as before but still dazzling with all its history, cracks in some of the wall, and antiques.
you greet the queen and the princess who only gets more beautiful by the years, them welcoming you with warm smiles and you can tell immediately the new changes other than their appearances.
they sound happier; no other burdens or weight pulling them down, carrying it around like a haunting that won't go away.
you walk around the courtyard with jongho after, finally a time and place to catch up. all those time of being with each other, you didn't think you could survive if he wasn't by your side, but to have gone four long years only seeing him once in a blue moon, you'd say that's some character development.
"how are things here for you?" you ask him, walking alongside shoulder to shoulder.
"amazing," he answers almost instantly, "it's crazy. i never thought i'd get the chance to work in the capital, but the royal family's castle? with the prince? it's everything i've ever wanted."
you can't stop smiling, his tone telling of just how much he means what he just said.
"that's great. i'm happy for you. you did always say you wanted all those training to go into something."
he nods.
"and you? how are things down there?"
"much better. it's coming together. the people's the most tame i've ever seen them."
jongho hums in acknowledgement.
"i heard you're going to become queen," he suddenly brings up, and you almost choke in return.
"and who the hell said that?"
"--i did."
the familiar voice that isn't jongho makes the both of you turn around, your stomach dropping and heart palpitating because you know all too well who it belongs to.
you can only stare breathless as he takes a step closer, your throat dry.
he's just as mesmerizing as you remember but like hongjoong, time have passed and he has gotten more bulky, manly, and handsome if that's even possible.
"i'm glad to see you can come," he mumbles, a charming smile on that render your knees weak.
jongho clears his throat, attempting to hide a smirk as he goes to excuse himself politely and walks back inside, leaving you stranded in the presence of san.
everything still feels the same with him.
"yeah. i got the letter," you reply, glancing around the empty area, "though it seems i might have gotten a tad excited."
he snickers, and oh... how you have missed the sound.
"you're the only one i gave a personal invitation to," he unveils.
"oh." your eyes swell, only to break the tension after. "then i guess i'm special."
"you are," he assures, closing the distance and taking one of your hand. "i have promised you that once utopia is stable enough, i will ask for your hand in marriage."
you watch as he goes to pull something out of the pocket of his suit, one of his knees pointed to the ground, his entire body falling with it.
"and now that i've finally reached that goal... y/n, will you marry me?"
it takes a moment for you to process everything, overwhelmed with joy and happiness before you can properly nod.
"yes. of course."
and he will marry you, after the rise to king and acceptance of his title as the ruler of utopia, keeping the promise just as he did to every others.
permanent taglist: @moonchele
a/n: not me talking shit abt wanting broken era to be over only to go & write a 19k oneshot. but i loved writing this & had a lot of fun bc it was v different from what i'd usually write
#i don't know shit abt politics#so go easy#ateez x reader#ateez fluff#ateez angst#choi san x reader#san x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines
628 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heated ~ pt.8
Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17 ~ Pt.18 ~ Pt.19 ~ Pt.20 ~ Pt.21 ~ Pt.22 ~ Pt.23 ~ Pt.24 ~ Pt.25
Masterlist
Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.
THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake.
Warnings: Kidnapping, themes of Non!Con! beware, canon type violence, Y/N badassery, murder, Crosshair is turned on by Y/N committing murder, sorry but we know he would be, I don't make the rules I just enforce them.
I don't know why I loved writing this chapter so much it was so fun like imagining and creating a civilization in the star wars vibes. Also having a tiny homage to slave Leia iconic outfit lol don't mind me.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
Still recovering from your heat, this long ride to wherever the Mimbanese were taking you was wearing you down. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling incredibly sore between your thighs, not to mention the pain in the rest of your body. Having four alphas at your disposal for a week had done sinful things to your poor body.
To say you were sore was an understatement.
Now your back was starting to hurt as his rifle bit into your spine with every gallop.
You had planned to lounge around for a few days before expecting to properly get back on your feet, but your plans had been derailed and now you were in the hands of a stranger and a strange people.
You were aware of the fact you were experiencing anxiety, but the last remaining embers of your heart still licked at your hindbrain dulling your senses a bit. All you could think about were your alphas.
They must be so worried.
~~~
The red clay earth rapidly changed, and soon a lush jungle neared you. The other riders sped up, forcing a tight formation as the animals approached an opening in the jungle wall. As you passed through, you noticed the flora and fauna matched the red and oranges of the mud fields too. Over the thundering sound of hooves, you could hear bird species screeching in the trees above and a rustling as the leaves danced in the wind.
You were trying to take everything in knowing this information may serve in your escape.
It didn’t take long for you to reach a clearing.
Upon approach, you watched the jungle reveal a massive stone wall that seemed to go on forever. You gawked as massive gates opened, allowing the war party to pass through before closing behind you with a massive locking mechanism falling into place.
You looked around, noticing villagers everywhere watching you strangely as the clan leader continued on his path to wherever he was taking you. You looked nothing like them; you were positive that's why they were staring so intensely. Then you realized the clan leader was taking you somewhere specific.
Up ahead, there was another tall wall inside the perimeter wall. More guards opened up the double doors, and you gasped.
Inside, there was a massive temple surrounded by gardens and billowing trees taller than those in the jungle outside the city.
All around these grounds were other females clad in crimson fabrics pausing what they were doing to watch you.
The Clan leader trotted to a stop, allowing you to take in the sight in its totality.
You were suddenly lifted from the saddle and settled into the grass below.
You looked around frantically, trying to find a potential escape, but you were greeted by other women… some human… you looked at them confused before they parted, making room for a smaller Mimban elder who scuttled over to you. You sucked in a breath as she approached.
She exchanged some words with the clan leader, who bowed his head in respect to the woman. She pushed forward, analyzing you with a scrutinizing eye. The clan leader then seemed to be explaining his actions while gesturing to you.
You swallowed thickly, feeling your anxiety eclipse whatever numbness you might of had.
She then took your hand into hers and studied the bruises around your wrist. You were certain those belonged to Tech. Then she clicked her tongue as she moved your collar to see Crosshair’s love bites.
She turned to the other women and said something before turning back to the temple. Very quickly, they flocked to you. You squeaked as they gently pushed you to follow the elderly woman, suddenly running their hands over your own in a friendly manner.
"Where are you taking me?" You asked, hoping they might understand basic.
One of the human girls whispered, "Don’t worry, you’ll be okay. It’s safe here."
You just looked at her, studying her face. It was painted with red designs, and her hair was plated back, showing off her dainty neck and collarbones. She donned a flowing red dress with luxurious-looking fabrics showing off her pale skin.
"Where is here?" You asked as the temple entrance approached. "I want to go home. Tell them to take me back to my pack."
"Are you mated?" She asked, taking your hand.
You shook your head no.
"Then you’re better off here," she nodded.
"But my alphas…" You whined, stepping inside the ancient building. The stone walls instantly made the temperature drop ten degrees and you shivered.
"They’ll understand soon," she gave you a sweet smile, taking the lead bringing you to the heart of the temple grounds.
~~~
"We gotta follow them!" Wrecker roared, feeling like his insides were being torn apart.
Like his brothers, he was horrified to watch you be wrenched from them. Taken from the nest with brute force.
"We are, Wrecker!" Tech snarled, looking at his data pad.
"They just took her! They fucking took her!" Crosshair was losing his mind. For the sniper engineered to be patient and still, it seemed his alpha instincts overrode his basic programming. He couldn’t deny the way his skin crawled with worry.
"What do they want with her?" Wrecker winced. "Why would they take Y/N?"
"I don’t even want to think about that," Crosshair hissed as his thoughts went to the absolute worst.
"Do you have their position?" Echo asked, looking to Tech.
"I do." He showed everyone his datapad. During the struggle, when he realized you were being taken from them, he slipped a tracker onto one of the guards. "It seems they took her to a city called Alise."
"How far?" Hunter growled.
"A few hours on foot," Tech replied, doing the math in his head, “We might be able to get there by sun down.”
"Let’s pack up and get moving," Hunter sprung into action.
They geared up and restocked their supplies before following the endless sets of hoof marks in the clay earth. Crosshair and Hunter hadn’t seen anything when they scouted a few days ago. He was hoping Tech’s info was correct.
~~~
"I- Ah!" You screamed as the Mimbanese women plunged you under the warm bathwater. You came back up coughing and sputtering, trying to wipe your eyes to see.
They had brought you to a natural hot spring inside the temple, and without warning, had stripped you down to your birthday suit. You didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed before you were being guided to the water, where they swarmed you with various scrubbing tools and soaps.
You looked up at the girl who had spoken to you moments before, but she just curled up on a fabric draped lounger with her friend while they talked, as if you weren’t being waterboarded by strangers just a few mere feet away.
You looked around, noticing there were only women here. The temple seemed to be a sacred space of sorts, as more of that same fabric was draped around the columns and ceilings. The floors were covered in red carpets, and lounging furniture was littered everywhere.
A warm cloth was brought to your skin as some sort of exfoliating cream was buffed into your flesh. More skilled hands worked some hair cleanser into your scalp. You fought back a sigh. It felt really nice to have someone else clean you.
It’s not like your alphas didn’t care for you, but they’re still men at the end of the day, and their hair washing skills were limited.
The warmed mineral water was doing wonders for your soreness. If anything, that made this a little enjoyable you felt yourself disarm a bit at their touch.
When they were satisfied with the job, they helped you out before cleaning themselves. You were brought over to the girl from before, and she stood up, extending a hand to you. You wrapped the crimson fabric around yourself a little tighter as she led you out to one of the windows. Here, were multiple vanity tables with mirrors and various creams and potions. She sat you down as her friend perched herself on the stool next to you with a kind smile.
"What is your name?" She asked, picking up a wooden comb from the table.
"I’m Y/N," you said quietly.
"Hi Y/N, I’m Taryn," she then gestured to her friend who had golden hair, "That’s Starla.”
"Where am I?" You asked, rubbing the fabric wrapping over your damp face.
"The city is called Alise," Taryn said, moving your hair to your back as she started gently running the comb through your tangled locks, "But this place is called the fortress." She waved the comb around at the temple.
"Why was I taken?" You shivered, fighting back tears. The only thing you wanted was to be in the arms of your alphas in your comforting nest right now.
"Tarook said he found you in the mud fields?" Taryn said, watching you nod in confirmation. "Anywhere outside the fortress isn’t safe for the women. They built this place to keep us safe."
"What’s in the mud fields?" You asked.
"Monsters," Starla said gravely, and you gasped.
Taryn gave her a disapproving look, "The men keep us safe here. They bring us everything we could need. There’s no need to worry."
"Can I leave?" You asked, and Taryn just eyed you through the mirror.
That was a no, you guessed.
"Who are these women?" You looked around.
"The elders, mothers, and the unmated," Starla said, "This place is a sacred site to their religion, but they use it now to protect us from the outside."
"Do the men ever come here?"
"Partners, sure. But not unless they’re mated. This place is just for us."
Taryn finished off a simple braid going down the back of your head and tied off the ends before standing to get Starla’s help finding you something new to wear. When they came back, they held various pieces of crimson fabric, and they got to work wrapping you in it.
You were thankful they covered your private bits, but the rest they let be exposed. The pieces all flowed into a skirt but left large slits on both sides trailing all the way up to your hips. The Mimban breeze blew the fabric softly and teased your legs.
You looked in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a dress on nonetheless something like this. You felt like one of the pin ups on in five’s bunk.
"So you blend in," Starla smiled and grabbed one of the pots on the vanity. She dunked her fingers in the red paste and brought it over to your face where she drew two thick lines from under your eyes all the way down your cheeks to your neck.
"You have an alpha?" She asked, noticing the love bites decorating your shoulder.
"Four. Actually," you were hit with sudden sadness, hoping you get to see them again.
"Four?" Starla’s eyes widened in shock but slightly impressed.
"Well, actually, there’s a fifth, but he’s platonic," you sighed, fighting back tears.
"Tarook took you from them?" She asked, a little horrified.
You nodded, "They tried to stop him, but there were too many."
Starla looked to Taryn, who looked a little distraught at the idea.
"That would explain these," Taryn picked up your wrist gently.
"I had just gotten through my heat when I was taken from them," you felt a tear slip, "I just want to go home." You gave them your best begging eyes hoping they’d take pity on you.
They sighed, sympathizing but in the end nothing came of it.
"I’m wondering if Tarook thought you had been hurt," she turned over your bruised wrists, "He might be strict, but he does care for us."
"My alphas are warriors. They can be a little rough, but they’d never hurt me," you sighed, pulling your wrists back and holding them close to your heart, "I don’t understand why your leader would do this."
"The fields are close to the Alooke," Taryn said.
"The Alooke?" You hadn’t heard that word before.
"They’re a clan of monsters," Starla whispered, "They’ve been terrorizing Mimban for generations. Alise was built to keep them out. They came from a nearby star system and have been taking the Mimbanese and killing them for sport."
"If you’re taken. You don’t come back," Taryn sighed.
You swallowed thickly, wondering how lucky you had been for the past two weeks.
"They particularly target women and children," Starla said, gesturing to all of the women moving about the temple, "That’s why they built the fortress."
"But you’re prisoners," you whispered.
"It’s better than the alternative, and we’re treated well."
You sighed in frustration. This was archaic, no matter the reasoning. A cage was still a cage regardless of title.
You had to get out of here. Alooke be damned.
"Will you show me around?" You asked, watching some of the elders locking arms and walking through the various corridors. You needed to learn this place and learn it fast if you were going to make an escape.
"Sure," they smiled and did the same. The three of you left the bathhouse to explore the inner city.
It was a lot larger than you had realized.
The inner city had multiple temples and many smaller private living domiciles. They showed you their rooms that they share with a few other human girls on the upper floor of the smaller western temple.
Between these ancient buildings, the gardens flowed along with a river that cut through the center of the city. The inner city was big enough you couldn’t see the walls from the other side. It gave the illusion that you weren’t trapped in a cage. It seemed like two thousand women resided here from what you estimated. They all wore the same color and had similar face paintings.
They seemed to be content. They laughed and gathered playing games you had never seen before in the little grass areas. There was an abundance of fruiting trees and gardens.
It almost seemed… like a utopia? No wonder they had no desire so leave.
Starla and Taryn found an empty bench under a huge tree and plucked a few fruits from a nearby basket handing one to you. It was a perfectly ripe meiloorun.
"Women from outside Mimban usually have an occupation," Taryn said, biting into the juicy fruit, "What do you do?"
“I’m a medic for the Grand Army of the Republic," you bit into the fruit, moaning at how sweet it was. You hadn’t had a fresh meiloorun in years, and the GAR ration packs tasted nothing like this, "I was stationed with the 501st battalion for a few years since the start of the war, then I transferred to my unit now. They’re a small group of commando soldiers. We’re sent on special missions that the other soldiers can’t do."
"Wow," Starla said in wonder, "So you’ve been all over the galaxy?"
You nodded, "I’ve been to many places. Each a little stranger than the next," you laughed quietly.
"Do you enjoy it?" Taryn asked with a hint of skepticism, "It sounds dangerous."
"Sure it’s dangerous," you smiled, remembering all of the adventures you’ve been on, "We’ve encountered pretty much anything you could think of. It is kind of nice not being shot at, I’ll admit. But I love my boys, and they work really hard for the GAR."
"War is hard," Starla sighed.
"It is," you agreed, "How did you both end up here?"
"My family was trying to flee Separatist occupation when I was brought here as a child," Starla explained, "The Alooke took them, and the elders took me in and raised me here."
"Similar story for me too. My family tried to rebuild a new life here when the Separatists showed up to try and start up a mining operation. Republic forces got us out in time. My mother is mated and lives in the outer ring with my father," she gestured to the gates.
“You know the GAR?” you asked.
Taryn nodded. “The clones, right?”
“Yeah,” you smiled.
“Brave warriors,” she nodded.
“I wonder if it was my boys,” you laughed. “What color were their armor?”
“Green,” she reminisced.
“Ahh no, that wasn’t us.”
“How crazy would that have been,” she smiled, taking your hand and resting it in her lap.
As the crimson moon rose, the inner city of Alise was cast into eerie darkness. Torches and lanterns were lit to keep the gardens out of darkness. You were all summoned to dinner with a sound bell ringing from the main temple.
You and your new friends made your way through the gardens before stepping up the temple steps to wash your feet and hands before entering.
Once inside, you smiled seeing how many women of all ages gathered, including children. They played music, danced, and sung while the others ate. It was shocking to see, but nonetheless, it made you happy. There weren’t many places in the universe like this you realized.
Starla grabbed your hand and led you over to where the prepared food was. It consisted of some things you’d never seen before, but she eagerly filled your plate before her own and marched you three over to a pile of stacked pillows to lounge on and watch the festivities.
“Is it always like this?” you asked, digging into the delicious food.
“Yeah,” Taryn smiled. “We have a very close community.”
“I can tell,” you smiled. Okay, fine, maybe Mimban wasn’t so bad. You were slapping yourself for being too judgmental. It must be the hormones.
~~~
"I don't see her," Crosshair remarked, peering down his scope at the massive city below. The rocky hillside they perched on provided a perfect view over the jungle.
"There are two rings," Tech informed, looking at his data pad. "The inner ring has ancient Jedi temples. I think she'd be in the outer ring; that seems to be where the villagers live."
"Jedi?" Wrecker asked, pulling out his scope.
"Yes, that's what I said," Tech replied, grabbing his own to peer down.
"Notice anything strange about this town?" Crosshair drawled clearly noticing something.
"What..." Hunter zoomed in with his lenses.
"There are only men," Crosshair observed, moving his scope to survey the rest of the city.
"Where are the women?" Hunter asked noticing the crowd in the streets is only men.
"What's that?" Wrecker asked, ignoring Hunter's question.
"What's what?" Hunter looked to Wrecker.
"The temples," Wrecker zoomed in. "There are people walking around."
Crosshair honed in on the flickering lanterns of the temple. "The women…”
They all adjusted their macro binoculars to focus on the inner city. That's when they saw all of the women happily skipping towards the main temple grounds, holding hands and dancing to what they assumed was music. They were covered head to toe in crimson, looking joyous and happy.
"She has to be there," Hunter declared.
"Assuming the clan leader isn't holding her hostage himself," Crosshair added, not entirely convinced.
"I don't think he would," Tech interjected, reading through the information about the Mimabnese. "I think Alise was built to protect their women. It says here that they have a long history of battling off a pirate stronghold called the Alooke. The pirates colonized this land and have been enemies of the indigenous for many generations, stealing their women for breeding."
Hunter didn’t like the sound of that one bit…
"So, you think they're keeping her in that temple?" Crosshair asked, looking through the various corridors from the outside. He couldn't really tell the difference between the various females; they were all wearing the same thing.
"Most likely," Tech affirmed.
"Alright, let's get moving before—"
Crosshair cut off Hunter, "We got movement in the north."
On the other side of the city, a dust cloud formed in the distance. Upon closer inspection, they noticed dozens of speeders making their way from the direction of the Marauder.
"You don't think they found our ship, do you?" Echo was getting a little worried now.
"It would be likely," Tech informed. "I'm guessing it's those pirates."
"They didn't bother us for two weeks. I don't think it's reasonable to think they'd start today of all days," Hunter watched them heading full speed for the city.
"What did that guy say to us earlier?" Echo narrowed his eyes through his binoculars before turning to face his squad. "He said that this place was no place for a female. Then he took Y/N…”
"Don't remind me," Hunter said, growing angry.
"No, I think he knew they'd come."
Crosshair crossed his arms. "We were sitting ducks for two weeks. If they were going to raid us and take Y/N, they would have done it already."
"Not if they didn't know she was there," Echo pointed out.
Suddenly, they realized you barely left the ship because of how upset you had been after the crash. The only time you had left was to help push the ship in the earlier days.
Echo pointed to the city again, "You saw their reaction when she popped her head out. They were shocked, and they had been watching us for who knows how long before I noticed."
"You think they saw her go into the city?" Hunter asked.
"She was fresh out of heat. No doubt they're hunting her scent trail," Echo's mechanical heart started beating a little faster, realizing you had probably unintentionally led them right to the hidden city.
"Why would they attack the city? It's massively fortified," Crosshair noted, observing all of the sentries patrolling the upper rim of the walls and the guard towers looking outwards. There were only two gates, one on the north end and one on the south. The place was like the citadel. "They'll sustain massive casualties."
Echo shrugged. "Maybe for an omega, they would risk it?"
"Then we need to go," Hunter stood up, grabbing his pack. “Now."
~~~
You smiled, holding hands with the little girl who led you around the dance floor. You didn’t know why the little Twi'lek girl picked you, but you couldn’t deny her. Her mother seemed content letting her play with you, so you just smiled and followed her lead.
Starla and Taryn clapped along with the music, giggling as they watched you enjoy yourself.
When the song was over, it seemed that everyone was eager to retire to bed.
The girls walked with you back to where you’d be staying with them until the this whole thing can be resolved.
Once inside the large converted bedroom, they helped you build a pallet of pillows and blankets like their own by the breezy airway.
You washed up before bed in one of the metal basins, and Starla helped you take the pins out of your hair, freeing your now dry and clean locks.
With a quiet goodnight, you curled up on the pallet and pulled the woven blanket up over you.
You sighed, feeling a bit of anxiety over the whole situation. Dinner was a good distraction, but now that you were left to listen to the river down below and the call of the night birds, you were left with your own thoughts.
Were your alphas coming for you? Were they already here? Or were they injured in the struggle?
What if they needed you to heal them and you weren’t there? You were starting to feel the tears again as the pull of your heart pained in your chest. You knew they were coming.
They always came for you.
You tried your hardest to find a comfortable spot that would allow you to close your eyes and try to forget the situation you were in, but you couldn’t help but hear some kind of commotion outside.
It was like there was a shift in energy, and it forced you up into a seated position. You looked around at the other girls, but they seemed to be comfortably asleep, not hearing what you were.
Something made the hair stand up on the back of your neck as you tried your hardest to listen. You wished you had Hunter’s hearing, but whatever was making your body alert, you knew it wasn’t good.
Standing up, you wrapped the blanket around yourself and stepped out from under the cover of the marble columns onto the exposed patio. Your hair whipped around in the breeze as you looked out over the inner city.
The torches and lanterns danced in the breeze, casting orange light everywhere. That's when you noticed something moving in the distance: the wall just off to the right had guards jogging back and forth, guns in hand.
You narrowed your eyes, making sure you were seeing the right thing, when you felt Starla near, rubbing her eyes and approaching you. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
“Something’s wrong,” you replied, pointing to the wall guards.
She squinted her eyes, trying to see in the dark. When she realized the guards were not in their normal watch positions, she gasped and skittered back into the room, waking Taryn.
Was it your alphas? You wondered, feeling a bit of hope fill your chest. They were coming to rescue you from this gilded cage.
Taryn awoke a little grumbly, but her attitude changed when she finally saw what was happening.
“There’s been a breach,” her eyes widened like saucers. “Go warn the others,” she turned to Starla, who sprinted out of the room.
“What do we do?” you asked, stepping back from the patio and back into the bedroom.
“We hide,” she said, leading the way to a red carpet hanging on the wall.
“Do you have weapons?” you asked.
She just gave you a look.
“This place is so ass-backwards,” you shook your head and followed her as she lifted back the tapestry, revealing a narrow passageway.
From beyond the stone walls, you heard a loud warning siren go off, letting you know Starla was successful. The blonde came running back shortly after, squeezing into the passageway with the two of you.
Just beyond the narrow pass was a small room with a candle and matches, which Taryn lit to light up the room.
From inside, you could see the ancient carvings from a time long ago. It seemed like a meditation room if you were correct. There were star maps of the entire galaxy and ancient primordial beings that seemed to be carefully depicting the beginning of the Jedi.
You’d seen this particular mural before on Coruscant… This place was a Jedi temple?
Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of blaster fire.
The two girls yelped upon hearing it, but you were just trying to figure out how many guns were firing. It was way more than five, you deduced. It wasn’t your boys; that was for certain.
This was something else entirely.
“We need weapons,” you whispered.
“We’ll be fine,” Taryn held Starla close, trying to console the girl. “They’ve never made it to the inner city before.”
“We don’t even know how to use blasters,” Starla trembled.
“Well, I do. We won’t last long without them if whoever that is out there is as bad as you say they are,” you were listening to the gunfire and the screaming.
These were all sounds you were used to, and something was telling you this was no normal siege. It was starting to sound like the front lines of Felucia.
“They won’t find us here,” Taryn’s tone was confident despite her panicked features.
You just sighed and leaned against the wall, waiting for the blasters to silence.
~~~
Hunter was panting heavily by the time they made it to the outer wall. “The pirates have drawn their fire. Let’s get up there before they come back,” he said.
Crosshair loaded a repelling cable into firepuncher and pulled the trigger, watching it latch onto the rim of the upper wall.
Quickly, the five soldiers scaled the wall like they had hundreds of times before. Hunter hauled himself up first, checking if the coast was clear. When it was, he motioned for the others to swing over the edge, grouping up into formation as they jogged in the opposite direction of the action.
Just as Crosshair had said, there were only men in the outer ring, and they all seemed keen on grabbing their weapons to join the fight.
From what they could see from the wall, the pirates managed to make it past the blockades with some kind of repurposed Separatist battering ram. It must have been left over from a previous battle.
“Over here!” Echo called out, finding a stone stairway that led down into the city below. They began quickly running down the large flight of stairs. That was until the battering ram sounded again.
“They’ve breached the inner city,” Tech said, using his infrared to see how many pirates were trying to rush the guards into the temple grounds. Luckily, most of them were being held back by the Mimbanese, and only a small handful slipped through.
“We need to hurry,” Echo urged.
~~~
The noises suddenly changed when you heard a massive pounding. It sounded like metal on metal, and you knew they were going for the massive doors protecting the inner city.
“They’re coming,” you said, slipping out of the shelter to confirm your suspicion. Taryn tried to grab you, but you were too fast. Nudging past the tapestry, you jogged over to the balcony, peeking out slightly just to see the gate had been basically disintegrated, and the guards were openly firing against a horde of what you could tell were pirates—the Alooke.
Running back to the safe place, you very carefully arranged the tapestry back to normal as you slipped back inside.
“They’re inside,” you whispered, blowing out the candle, leaving you in total darkness.
Starla started whimpering like a scared pup. You put your hand on her shoulder, trying to quiet her, but it wasn’t helping much.
You flinched when you heard women’s screams echo throughout the hall and knew they had infiltrated the temple and they were close.
It wasn’t long before they’d kick down your door. You just prayed they would move on and not notice your hiding spot.
You closed your eyes, saying a silent prayer to the Maker, hoping they’d take mercy on you.
You jumped when you heard the wood of your bedroom door smash open into the stone wall with a bone chilling bang.
Taryn covered Starla's mouth with her hand, keeping her silent. You took a deep breath, trying to still the racing adrenaline in your body so you could hear over the pounding in your ears.
You heard the man tear apart the room, throwing everything around, growling as he yanked apart the bed pallets frustrated.
“I can smell you… Omega,” he rumbled, making your stomach drop. “I know you’re in here. I know you’re close…”
He continued destroying the room, knocking over the furniture and smashing the pottery of flowers, and you cursed yourself for not thinking about the fact you were totally unmedicated and nothing was suppressing your scent. You were positive it was pungent.
“I smell alpha on you too,” he chuckled, “too bad he’s not here to save you,” he threatened.
You heard his boots getting closer to the tapestry as he rooted around in the box of body jewelry next to your hiding spot.
You looked to the two cowering girls. You knew what you had to do. You knew it was a matter of time before he discovered you. At least if you acted now, you’d have the element of surprise.
Leaning forward, you grabbed the metal candlestick and flipped it upside down before returning to the narrow passageway.
Taryn tried to plead with you, but you just shook your head, trying to convey that you had a plan… kind of… you knew Hunter was absolutely going to chew you a new one if he ever found out you were this dumb.
Nudging the tapestry aside, you saw the ugly creature prowling around the center of the room, admiring all the gold shiny jewelry he had found.
Adjusting your grip slightly on the candle holder, you crept forwards silently, leaving the safety of your hiding spot and approached him in practiced silence.
Rearing back, you went to make the swing and brought down your makeshift club hard, connecting with his wrinkly head. He let out a bark and doubled over, feeling his blood start to rush from the injury.
You raised your arm again to finish the job. He was quick enough to spin around and grab your wrist, holding the weapon. You yelped as he squeezed, forcing you to drop it.
“There you are!” he spat, “Nice of you to come out. You’ll do well. Onka will be pleased to have a new toy.” His free hand shot out to grab at your throat, and something in that moment changed, and suddenly your weeks of combat training kicked in like instinct.
With a growl, you dodged his hand and used your knee to hit him in the gut. He grunted and tried to wrangle you again, but this time you spun around and used your weight to roll him over your back onto the wooden lounging table. He let go of your wrist as he collided with the hard surface, forcing his back into a painful arch with a pop.
You backed up and arched your leg into a high kick, bringing down your heel to his sternum. You heard a crack and knew you hit your target. The man wailed in agony, gripping at his chest as it was no doubt broken.
It was loud enough. Another man entered the room curiously to find you standing over his comrade. You only had a second to react before he rushed you. Grabbing a large metal dish Starla used to hold her combs, you reared that thing back before whipping it across the pursuer's face.
He snapped to the side, spinning around, trying to recover from the strike.
His cheek was bleeding, and you were panting. Thankful for the freedom of movement this makeshift dress offered, you got back into a fighting stance, waiting for his move.
“An omega that can fight,” he sneered, raising his fists, “That’s new.”
“You have no idea,” you adjusted your grip on the plate.
He narrowed his eyes, studying you before he flinched. You decided he was taking too long to make a move and flung the plate at him like a frisbee, watching it connect with his neck. He stumbled back, shocked and struggling to breathe, when you launched yourself at him like a wild tooka.
Just like Hunter had showed you, you leaped up onto him, wrapping your bare legs around his shoulder and chest before twisting yourself down, taking him with you.
Hunter always told you that because you’re smaller, you have to bring the fight down to the ground if you want a chance at winning. You knew you had to keep this man on the ground or else he could over power you.
You rolled, throwing him into a spin on the ground. He grunted and reached out, grabbing your bare ankle, yanking you down with him. He tried crawling over you, but you kicked him in the side of the face, hearing his jaw snap viciously.
You crawled away, grabbing one of Taryn’s hair forks, holding it like a shiv.
When he tried to grab you again, you spun on him, driving the fork into his arm and twisted, hearing him scream in agony.
Just as you thought you were making some headway, the one from before got up, grabbed you by the hair, dragging you out onto the balcony and away from his friend. You screamed, feeling the burning pain as he yanked on your locks mercilessly.
“You’re one hell of a problem, aren’t you, sweetheart!” he grabbed your neck, squeezing it harshly. You scrambled and clawed at him feeling the oxygen start to leave you.
You spat at him, watching it land on his face and drip down his scaly cheek.
“Feisty,” his friend laughed, pulling the fork from his arm and letting it fall with a clatter.
The other let go of your hair to wipe his face off.
“I’m fucking her first before we give her to Onka.” He snarled, “fucking payback for the struggle.”
You bared your teeth and he just laughed spinning you around forcing you over the balcony railing at the hip. You kicked back connecting with this shin making him howl. He grabbed your hair again, smashing your face into the stone roughly.
“Damn bitch!” He started running his hand over your hip before reaching the high slit in your dress.
Just as you thought it was all over, you heard the sound of a single blaster shot and the tell tale sound of a body hitting the ground.
You couldn’t see what was happening but you nearly cried when you heard a familiar voice.
“Fucking drop her.” Crosshair’s menacing voice cut through the air like a vibroblade.
You were suddenly yanked up and whipped around, being used as a human shield. In front of you, you sighed in relief upon seeing Crosshair’s mask and firepuncher aimed right at your attacker. He slowly approached, stepping over the dead pirate.
You felt dull metal being pressed to your head, and you knew it was a blaster. “Don’t come any closer,” the pirate warned.
Crosshair stopped his advance and stood scarily still.
“Is this the alpha I could smell on you earlier, sweetheart?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “What a pretty little thing you are, so many men fighting to have you.”
Normally, you would have been frightened to be in a situation like this, but looking at Crosshair now, you knew no harm would befall you. You knew he would do what needed to be done. You had full trust in the sniper.
Your tense shoulders fell, and you became eerily relaxed feeling the calm wash over you.
“Hand her over, and I’ll let you live,” Crosshair spoke through his vocoder.
“No chance,” the pirate laughed before coughing due to his fractured sternum, “Put down your gun, and I won’t shoot her.”
Crosshair waited a moment, calculating the risk before deciding to slowly set firepuncher down on the ground, deciding your life was the top priority.
“Kick it to me,” the pirate ordered.
Crosshair begrudgingly kicked his beloved rifle into the center of the room. The pirate huffed, satisfied.
You were then violently shoved down onto your knees with a cry as the pirate pushed you over to have a go at Crosshair. You felt his steel-toe boot bite into your side as he kicked you.
The Pirate wasn’t ready; Crosshair was too fast, too trained. Before his boot had ever left your side, Crosshair lunged at him, knocking the blaster from his grip. The two men fell into a nasty brawl.
Gaining your senses back, you watched your beloved alpha fend off the pirate to the best of his ability.
The ugly fucker grabbed a knife from his belt and swung it at Cross. You watched in horror as Crosshair dodged him masterfully, but your adrenaline was on overdrive.
Without much thinking, you crawled over the debris of the room and grabbed firepuncher. You held up the rifle, tucking it into your shoulder and raising yourself to your knees, bringing one foot forward to plant confidently on the floor.
Raising the gun up into the air, you felt your heart calm and your breathing still.
In that brief moment of clarity, you aimed the weapon, putting the god-ugly pirate into the crosshairs of the scope before pulling the trigger.
You watched that blue plasma bolt pierce right through the back of the pirate’s skull as he collapsed on the ground mid-swing.
Crosshair stood there in awe as the smoke from the blast still lingered in the air. He felt like the air had been punched from his gut seeing you kneeling there holding his gun with that determined look in your eyes. He felt the blood rush south realizing you had just saved him... with his gun. He wanted to throw you down on these cushioned floors and ravash you. Shaking himself back to his senses, he took a deep calming breath in.
You took a deep breath too, setting the gun down as Crosshair leaped across the room to kneel down on the floor and embrace you.
You tightly wrung yourself around him, finally feeling the adrenaline wear off and the tears start to flow.
“Cross!” You sobbed, squeezing him.
“Mesh’la,” he took his helmet off, setting it down to the side, and shoved his face into your neck, holding your head like you were the most precious thing to ever live.
“Are you hurt?” He suddenly drew back to get a real look at you. He finally had a second to take in what you were wearing. If the situation wasn’t so dire, he’d probably have a boner right now.
Your bare legs knelt on the ground, and your nearly naked torso shone in the moonlight, and that damn red on you. It was making his blood warm seeing his little omega on display like this.
“I’m okay,” you replied, grabbing his face and bringing his mouth to yours in a heated kiss. He leaned over you, supporting your back with one hand and holding the two of you up with the other, he squeezed you tightly to his chest plate.
“Y/N?”
Crosshair grabbed his gun in a flash between your bodies, placing the end on his shoulder rifle rest for stabilization. You were still dazed from the kiss when you noticed the others had come out from hiding.
Taryn and Starla squeaked with the gun being pointed at them clutching onto one another.
“It’s okay,” you said, placing a hand on the rifle, “They’re friends.”
Crosshair slowly lowered the gun and looked back at you, “We need to go.”
“Where are the others?” You asked, letting Crosshair help you stand up. He put his helmet back on with a hiss.
“They’re fighting off the pirates. Echo spotted you from the balcony. I ran up here as fast as possible, but we have to go while we still can.”
“What about them?” You asked, looking to your frightened friends.
“We don’t have time,” he ushered you out towards the balcony.
You looked over your shoulder, pointing to the discarded pirate blasters, “Use those!” You pointed to the weapons. Taryn scrambled to grab them as Crosshair wrapped a strong arm around your back, bringing you to his front.
“Hold on adi’ka,” he said, aiming another repelling cable towards the floor above. You wrapped your arms around Crosshair as he engaged the lift, bringing the two of you off the ground. Once you were up, you noticed Echo squatting on the roof, firing at the wall filled with invaders.
“Echo!” You smiled, still holding onto Crosshair.
“Hey, Tiny!” He nodded at you, continuing to squeeze off more rounds, “Glad to see you… what the hell are you wearing?”
You looked down, forgetting about the strange revealing attire.
“Later!” Crosshair growled.
He grabbed a zip cable grip, placing it onto the zipline from the top of the temple over to the wall across the way.
“Don’t let go!” He said, grabbing you again.
“What?” You asked before squealing as he whisked you off your feet, letting the grip slide across the cable carrying you over the war zone towards the wall deck. He dropped the grip, landing the two of you safely on the wall. Your bare feet hit the stone with a stumble as you shook with renewed adrenaline.
“I got her,” Crosshair radioed in as Echo zip-lined across the gardens to the wall, “meet us at the rendezvous point.”
You felt Echo put a gloved hand on your shoulder before falling into formation, leading the way. Crosshair held your hand as he dragged you through the chaos. Fire and plasma blasts flew everywhere. The entire city was under siege. You watched in horror as the Mimbanese fought with everything they had.
They were fierce warriors; you could give them that credit despite their strange customs.
Your feet were definitely getting cut up from running over the debris, but you couldn’t feel much over the adrenaline. Before long, you were nearing the outer wall as Crosshair and Echo ducked behind a vendor cart, pressing you between them.
“Now what?” You asked, holding onto Echo’s flesh arm.
“We wait for Hunter,” Crosshair said, throwing one of his reflector pads on the wall to keep an eye on the action behind them.
A particularly loud explosion had you clenching onto Echo.
“I don’t know how you guys do this every day!” You flinched as more debris rained over the vendor cart.
“Part of the job, Cyra’ika,” Crosshair checked the locator on his vembrance, “They’re close.” He got up, holding his rifle ready to fire but lowered it seeing Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker arriving on stolen speeders.
When they pulled up, Crosshair led you to them. You went to throw yourself at Hunter, but Crosshair shoved you onto the back of his speeder instead, “Reunions later! Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
You snuggled up to Hunter’s back, clinging onto his armor as Crosshair slid in behind you. The Sargent gave your leg a little pad letting you know he was happy to see you.
Echo jumped onto Tech’s bike while Wrecker’s had two massive engine parts strapped to the back. Presumably stolen you deduced.
In a flash, Hunter whipped the speeder around, taking off, leaving the war zone behind.
You sped through the smoke as you neared the city gates. Crosshair kept a firm hand on your head, shoving your head down when a stray bullet whizzed by.
You gasped, seeing it explode into a basket of fruits to your left.
“Careful,” he growled.
You reached an arm back, putting it on his thigh plate, giving it a squeeze as a thank you.
Once you passed through the gates, you finally could release a big exhale. You watched the city of Alise disappearing into the background as Tech navigated you all back to the Marauder.
You knew it would be a long journey, but you finally felt free. You leaned back into Crosshair, letting your head lull against his shoulder.
He wrapped a hand around your waist, keeping you close. You were finally back with your pack, back with your alphas. Everything was right again…
You felt the way Crosshairs gloved fingers slipped onto the slit in the pathetic excuse for a dress you were wearing.
You could tell he disapproved as his fingers slid inwards realizing you had no panties on. But the other part of your grumpy alpha was turned on beyond belief.
Having you in his grasp again was making his heart race and his codpiece incredibly tight. He couldn’t help himself but to drag his hands away from you core and explore higher, he ran his hands over your exposed sides and back then up your chest to where Taryn had tied a flimsy piece over your breasts. Then he thumbed the piece that wrapped around your neck holding everything together.
You squirmed feeling yourself get wet the more Crosshair touched you. It didn’t help having the humming speeder between your legs as he returned back to massaging your exposed thighs.
Hunter felt you squirming around and tilted his helmet to the side to make sure you were okay. What he didn’t expect to see was you tucking your head into Crosshair’s neck under his helmet as he groped you shamelessly.
He shook his head going back to focusing on getting everyone back to the ship. He’d deal with Crosshair’s horny ass later.
~~~
What felt like an eternity later, the Marauder was finally in sight. When Hunter slowed down the bike to investigate the damage, it was apparent that a large group of raiders had been there.
There were footprints all around the ship, including inside. From what you could see, nothing seemed to be taken except for a few items of clothes strewn about outside, no doubt used to confirm your identity and scent.
“Stay here,” Hunter instructed as he got off the bike with the others to ensure the ship was indeed empty.
You stayed on the bike with Crosshair as he got up to take his helmet off and kiss you properly. You sighed into the kiss, feeling his firm grasp on your chin. His strong hands ran down your sides squeezing your exposed hips he stood between your spread thighs. You whimpered feeling a jolt electrify your entire being.
“Thank you,” you whispered, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “For finding me…”
“You put up a hell of a fight, Adi’ka,” he smiled, kissing you again, this time with more force, making you whine with need as he ground his hips into your throbbing core.
“Alright, quit making out,” Echo interjected, walking back towards the speeders.
You pulled away, blushing, letting Crosshair scowl at the ARC trooper for inturpting. You had heard about the post battle need to blow off steam. Some troopers went to 79’s to drink, some found hookers, and others well.. you weren’t entire sure. But you knew it was real, the adrenaline was making you want to jump Crosshair’s bones.
“What happened?” Echo asked, putting his hand on his hip. The others quickly returned, wanting to know as well. “Where are your shoes?” The arc trooper raised a brow.
“They took them,” you replied, looking down at your wrecked and bloody feet.
“Okay, start from the beginning,” Hunter said, kneeling down in front of you to look at your injuries, pulling a shard from the ball of your foot gently giving your ankle a little rub.
“That crazy man took me. His name was T-Tarook or Tanrock or something like that.” You waved you hand dismissively, “Then we were riding for hours on that stupid horse before we got to the city. Then they brought me to an old lady who took my clothes and forced me into a bathspring.
They dressed me, painted my face, then let me go into that garden prison. I met two human girls who had been victims of the war who ended up there with their families.
Nothing else really happened. They fed me and brought me into their community. There were so many I couldn’t believe it. Then they converted these old Jedi Temples into living spaces and that’s when Crosshair found me.
Well, actually the pirates found us first and I tried my best to fight them off, but in the end, Crosshair saved me. Echo and him got me out and now we're here… I still don’t know where my shoes are though,” you sighed, feeling exhausted; it had been a wild 48 hours.
“An old lady took your clothes?” Echo repeated amused.
You shook your head. “It was so strange.” You were trying to understand the whole ordeal.
“Does that explain that?” He gestured to your barely there attire. You nodded again crossing your arms over your hardened nipples.
“Looks like something the Hutts would like,” Hunter commented, crossing his arms.
“I’ve seen more clothes on a stripper at 79’s,” Crosshair joked. You slapped him.
“I didn’t exactly have a choice if you didn’t notice,” you scowled at him. “Now, will one of you carry me inside so I can change?”
“Sorry to break it to you, Mesh’la, but… they took most of your clothes,” Hunter nodded in the direction of the ship.
“Fucking perverts.” You growled, “They better not have taken my favorite civvies!” You slid off the speeder and into the mud feeling it squelch under your toes no longer caring about getting dirty. You were already covered in plasma powder and maker knows what.
"Hey, I'm just glad you're okay, Pip!" Wrecked exclaimed, pulling you into a massive bear hug and rubbing his chin on the crown of your head scenting you. You relaxed into his embrace, allowing him to set you down gently.
Tech then gave you a quick embrace, followed by Hunter, who tilted your chin up to get a look
at the blooming bruises around your neck. He gave a disapproving huff, but you just smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his chest. He let you go and watched as you made your way back to the ship, your long legs shuffling through the clay, fussing with the fabrics flowing from your waist.
They all watched you trot to the ship eagerly, a little mesmerized by the outfit. Hunter then snapped out of it and pointed to the stolen engine parts, "Alright, let's get these parts installed and get the hell out of dodge," Hunter said snapping the others out of their stares.
Wrecker got to work quickly, knowing there was limited time before the locals or the pirates showed up to poke around and Tech grabbed his welding kit.
~~~
"Are we good to go?" Echo asked Tech, who began the launch sequence. The ship groaned slightly as it pulled away from the surface of Mimban. You sat in your jump seat, feet cleaned and bandaged, wrapped in a blanket, and preparing for the cold of space.
"We’re clear," Tech said, angling the nose of the ship towards the blackness of space.
"Thank the maker!" you cheered, thrilled to get the hell off this rock. “Fuck Mimban!”
You heard Wrecker laugh.
"Launching to hyperspace," Tech announced, pushing the throttle forward to prime the hyperdrive. Within seconds, you were all zooming through space with bright blue and white lights.
You could cry, honest to the maker. The relief of never having to go back to Mimban ever again was like a weight off your chest.
Hunter chuckled at your enthusiasm, watching you happy dance from your seat.
"We’re at cruising speed," Echo said, unbuckling and turning to face you directly.
You perked up. "What is it, Echo?"
He crossed his arms and smirked.
"What?" You started to feel anxious under his playful stare.
"Oh, nothing…" His smirk only grew. "I just didn’t know you had such…voracious tastes."
Your eyes widened like saucers, reminiscent of the one you chucked at that pirate earlier.
"Oh, don’t play shy now," he pointed an accusatory finger at you. "I had to listen to how not shy you were for the past week!"
You wanted to vanish into the floor. You felt your entire body flush, and you knew they could see it because half of it was on damn display.
"You can’t blame me!" You crossed your arms, trying to defend yourself.
"Actually, I think I can," he laughed. "I thought omegas only picked one…"
"You said you’ve shared before!" You narrowed your eyes at him.
"She wasn’t in heat," Echo smiled.
"Is this what you two talk about when we’re on missions?" Hunter leaned against the galley doorway crossing his arms.
"Well, excuse me, you all smell remarkably similar. It’s a little difficult when you’re all different versions of the same person!"
Echo chuckled. "We all know that’s not how that works, sweetheart."
You couldn’t help but leave your mouth agape. "Can’t you just be happy I’m not dead? Must you tease me before we even get back to Coruscant?”
"I just didn’t know this about you," he stood up, shrugging and keeping his playful tone. "I never would have guessed our Tiny…Little sweet Tiny, would roll like this." He laughed.
You threw the blanket you had at him, making him laugh and bat it away.
"Alright, enough, quit playing with her," Hunter gathered you up, keeping you from playfully smacking Echo.
"She likes it," Echo flicked you on the forehead, making you yip as he sat back down in his copilot seat. "I want all of them," he mimicked your whiny voice with a snicker.
"Ahh!" You screamed, covering your face. "Shut up, Echo!"
"Help me, Alpha!" He smiled and laughed, watching you flail around in Hunter's arms, trying to kick him.
"Are you not wearing panties?" Echo gasped pointing a finger at you. The others whipped their heads around.
"Echo!" You screamed.
"Alright, someone has to be the responsible one and get you cleaned up," Hunter spun you around and walked you to the fresher, “Shower. Then we should probably talk before we get to Coruscant," Hunter said, running a gentle hand over your head affectionately.
"Can I borrow some civvies?" You asked, gesturing down to your dress.
Hunter scratched the back of his head. "They took ours too… sorry, pip." He felt bad. You sighed and nodded, letting him close the door, giving you some privacy.
You sighed. You’d be lying if you weren’t a little anxious about having the talk. The second you hit lucidity again after being in heat, you knew it was coming, but the way Crosshair kissed you at least gave you a little hope they weren’t going to just kick you to the side and pretend like it didn’t happen.
At least not the sniper; the others? You weren’t as confident.
Stepping into the fresher, you took a deep breath, letting the hot water wash away the past 48 hours.
It was going to be an uncomfortable journey back home.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
So I usually HATE when someone puts images of clothes they had visualized for a fic, but because I struggled so much describing the image, I'm attaching my inpso images here (ahh I'm sorry I'm a hypocrite) and also Pip's iconic tray toss (just like daddy Crosshair)
Taglist: @substantial-exposure
@rains-on-kamino
@minimissmoo
@z-and-the-batboys
@aynavaano
@9902sgirl
@sideofhorny
#The bad batch#tbb#star wars#ABO#alpha#beta#omega#heat#hunter#crosshair#tech#wrecker#echo#clone#clonewars#fanfic
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
A HH Lucifer-centric AU 3/?
PART 1, PART 2, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22
Apologies if some grammar makes no sense. English is not my first language.
I do have another Lucifer angst fic right HERE, there's currently 2 parts but I swear I'll update it. There are just too many ideas flowing in my head right now and I don't want to forget them!
Really appreciate the likes, reblogs, and comments <3<3
---------------------------------------------
The two Sins arrive at the very edge of Sloth where Lucifer can see a long barrier with multiple guards.
Scientists were everywhere and from the looks of things, no one had gotten any sleep.
Belphegor leads Lucifer past the barricade. Many of Belphegor's employees stare in awe and dread as the king of hell passes by.
They both come to a stop to a series of black and red roots on the ground, crawling their way out of hell's deepest realm. (Imagine those root things of the Upside-Down of stranger things)
Belphegor: Apologies again, Lucifer. I should not have kept this from you for as long as I did.
Lucifer: And why did you?
The Sin of Sloth is nervous. She and Lucifer are close friends, some may even call them (all of the Sins, really) as siblings. Despite being an ex-angel, the Sins hold Lucifer in high regard. They were created because of him, after all.
Belphegor: You have entrusted me with this duty when I was bestowed upon the title Prince of Sloth. I... simply did not want to- I have no excuse.
Lucifer: And how long has this been like this?
Belphagor: A scientist of mine spotted the anomaly a month ago. It was barely the size of a puddle initially. It did not grow more than an inch for 2 weeks. But then, seemingly overnight, it grew a mile. We set up a perimeter and tight security after..
Lucifer: After?
Belphegor: An animal escaped from a nearby farm and made contact with the anomaly. And it.. it took over its whole body. It acted like a parasite, controlling the body. We shot it dead.
Lucifer: Did you retrieve it?
Belphegor simply points to the creature, blood dried from where it was killed.
Lucifer: And I'm the first to know of this apart from your guards and scientists?
Belphegor: Yes. We've been monitoring every bit of media and so far, information regarding this is still contained. The locals have dubbed this as a personal excavation of mine.
Lucifer hmm'd and walked a little too close to the anomaly than Belphegore would like. The king crouches down and-
She panics and surges forward as her friend, her brother, touches the infected ground.
Belphegor: Lucifer! What are you doing?!
She pulls him back and freezes. The Sin of Sloth has never felt more awake than she did now as her brother's arm became engulfed in glowing red root-like veins all the way to his collarbone.
Lucifer stares at his twitching hand and arm and pays no mind to Belphegor's concerns.
Lucifer: Call for a meeting, Bel.
She stops, confused.
Belphegor: With the Sins?
Lucifer: With everyone. King's decree.
--------------------------------------
What to look forward for in Part 4:
By everyone, he means everyone (Sins, Overlords, Ars Goetia, etc.)
uh oh, Lucifer has the cheese touch
Is it painful? who knows
#hazbin charlie#hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#hazbin lilith#vivziepop#hazbin alastor#hazbin angel dust#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel fanart#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin vaggie#hazbin niffty#hazbin sir pentious#asmodeous#helluva boss#fizzarolli#helluva boss beelzebub#hazbin hotel niffty#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin spoilers#radio demon#hazbin hotel vaggie#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel sir pentious#keekee#vaggie#niffty#egg bois
140 notes
·
View notes
Text
For the First Time In Forever…
I feel like writing again! I’ve missed you all so much and am so thankful for all of your love and support and kind words and just your existence! You are all amazing!
To celebrate, and because I’m wanting to ease myself back into writing as I am afraid I’m severely out of practice, I’m posting some prompts below that I would love for you all to look over and choose! Any character you want, any scenario, and you can combine!
I don’t know if I will get to all of them and as a forewarning, most of them will probably somewhat short, but I will do my best! I also want to extend this offer to the Baldurs Gate 3 fandom as that game has been my saving grace for awhile! But ACOTAR is very much accepted as well!
I love you guys and can’t wait to write again for you! ❤️
Prompts
Angst:
1.) “Don’t lie to me. I know everything”
2.) “I don’t love you.”
3.) “Please don’t do this.”
4.) “I can’t believe I fell in love with you.”
5.) “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
6.) “Us? There never was such a thing.”
7.) “You think I would fall in love with someone like you?”
8.) “You don’t deserve me.”
9.) “You….you cheated on me?”
10.) “Don’t leave me, please, I still need you.”
11.) “What do you want me to say?”
12.) “You promised!”
13.) “Stop pretending this wasn’t your plan all along, to break me down until I’m nothing.”
14.) “You can’t do this.”
15.) “I hate you.”
Fluff:
1.) “Can I hug you?”
2.) “You’re everything to me.”
3.) “Surely you know how much I care about you?”
4.) “Come for a cuddle?”
5.) “You’re so oblivious, aren’t you?”
6.) “Stay with me tonight. Please.”
7.) “I love you.”
8.) “Can I keep you?.”
9.) “Come on, I wouldn’t forget your birthday!”
10.) “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.”
11.) “I never thought I’d see you again…”
12.) “Come dance in the rain with me!”
13.) “May I have this dance?”
14.) “Will you marry me?”
15.) “I want to show you something.”
Tropes:
1.) Enemies to Lovers
2.) Friends to Lovers
3.) Strangers to Lovers
4.) Soulmates
5.) AU
6.) Amnesia
7.) Marriage of Convenience
8.) Lovers to Enemies
9.) Forbidden Love
10.) Fake Dating
11.) Second Chances
12.) Damsel in Distress
13.) Stuck Together
14.) Opposites Attract
15.) Love Triangle
Smut:
1.) “I want to fuck you so badly.”
2.) “You can take it, pretty girl, can’t you?”
3.) “Mine.”
4.) “On your knees.”
5.) “Submission looks good on you.”
6.) “You look so pretty with my cum painted on your face.”
7.) “Please let me cum inside you, please, I need to breed you.”
8.) “Beg.”
9.) “Someone’s been bad.”
10.) “Don’t you want an audience?”
11.) “Use your words.”
12.) “Such a fucking brat, you should know your place by now but it seems I’ll have to remind you.”
13.) “Do you know how much I’ve been wanting to do this to you?”
14.) “No more, I can’t take anymore.”
15.) “Swallow.”
Scenarios:
1.) One person is injured
2.) One person is sick
3.) One bed trope
4.) Pregnancy
5.) First Date
6.) Wedding/Reception
7.) First night together
8.) Truth or Dare
9.) Forced proximity
10.) One person discovers their secret
11.) Meet cute
12.) Accidentally hurting the other
13.) Hurt/Comfort
14.) Confessions
15.) Breakup
#I’m back baby!!!#so excited!#acotar smut#acotar reader#acotar imagine#Rhysand x reader#azriel x reader#cassian x reader#eris x reader#bg3#bg3 imagine#bg3 smut#Gale Dekarios x reader#Astarion x reader#Wyll x reader#bg3 reader#bg3 reader imagine#acotar reader imagine#acotar#acotar smut reader#Helion x reader#Rolan x reader#Lucien x reader#Raphael x reader#honeybeefae
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dirty Windows | 11 | Nora x Hancock
A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU
\\
Fic Summary:
Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.
Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.
When Nora thought for sure she was going to die too, the pain stopped – and then there was nothing. Nothing but the emptiness. Nothing but the grief. Half of her soul was suddenly gone forever. She was dropped in the middle of the ocean, drifting among the waves with no land in sight. Then just as suddenly she had been cast adrift, she found land. The hole was filled the moment it had been created. As she gripped Nate’s vault suit and begged him to open his eyes, Nora found herself battling with the horrifying realization that she had another soulmate; that some stranger had taken Nate's place.
\\
[ 1 ] <- [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ] - [ 12 ]
\\
“You’re lying. In what world would bottle caps be a viable currency?”
Hancock snorted into his water, grinning like a fool as he watched the woman stare at a handful of blood-spattered bottle caps. This was all he had wanted from the very beginning – conversation. He didn’t need deep and meaningful interaction. He just wanted to get to know his soulmate, so he delighted in their small talk.
“In this world,” he replied. “Why else would every one of these bastards have bottle caps on ‘em?”
“I don’t know – maybe it’s a hobby. Like collecting stamps.”
“Stamps? People collect those things?”
She deposited the bottle caps into her bag without a whole lot of care as she grumbled, “Not anymore, apparently.”
Once the situation had been resolved, Hancock found that he rather enjoyed walking his soulmate through her first firefight. The woman was a good listener; whenever he told her to adjust her grip or her footing, she did it. When he told her to make a run for better cover, she bolted. At the end of the altercation, Hancock had told her to take a moment to breathe. It was then, and only then, when she had finally crumbled. It was as if she had came out of some sort of fugue state, and was coping with everything she had done. The woman had dropped to the ground, coming to rest on her knees. It was there, in a folded heap, where she started to take deliberate, slow breaths. The anger that had been crackling between them finally dissolved.
“Y’did good,” he had said. “Yer a helluva shot.” There hadn't been a response, only more deep breathing. He frowned slowly; so it was back to the cold shoulder. Regardless, he would consider the day a win. His soulmate had finally spoken to him. He reached to her, and she reached to him. He’d never felt the feeling of home like he had in that moment. The feeling of completion. He didn’t want to let that go. Hancock proved he could help. But the day was a win, he insisted to himself. It was a start.
“Just… give me a second, please,” She had whispered between breaths.
Hancock had made an attempt to redirect her attention. He would let her take a moment to catch up, but he didn’t want her to dwell in some dark pit of guilt.
“Hey,” he had said in a near whisper. “Let’s check the bodies.”
She did. Remaining calm, and sticking to her slow breaths, the woman methodically searched the bodies of the fallen raiders. Ammo, guns, drugs and caps littered the floor around her within seconds. Hancock told her which ammo was compatible with the gun she was toting, and walked her through the steps of reloading an old sawed off shotgun.
“What’s up with these guys and bottle caps?” she had said, mostly to herself than to him.
Before he knew it, he was explaining the currency of the post-apocalyptic world. He silently marveled over the fact that this wasn’t common knowledge before reminding himself that this woman crawled out of a vault just recently. Maybe they still used that paper currency in there.
As his woman stowed everything into her pack he took a seat at the chair that was still perched near the window. “Ya know,” he drawled. “Yer handling all this a lot better than I expected. Y’haven’t got sick yet, anyway.”
“That’s, uh… That’s all you, actually,” she said as she double-checked the magazine. She had a spare mag now, a shotgun.
Hancock scrunched his brows as he shook out a cigarette from the pack. “It’s comin’ from you, though.”
“It is, but it isn’t. You don’t know how to block out my emotions, and I’m currently channeling yours, so. That’s all you.”
Hancock put his feet up in the sill, taking a deep pull from the cigarette. “So when I started feelin’ super pissy…”
“That was you, too. You were angry, and that was better than being scared out of my mind. I used your anger, and you picked up on it coming from me…”
So the only reason why she was talking with him was because she was leeching off of his emotions. The realization stung a bit. He reminded himself that progress was progress. A win was a win. Hancock decided he would keep being useful. If that was the only way he could get his foot in the door, so be it.
“My inexperience paid off. That’s a first,” he said with a wry smile. She didn’t laugh. So much for jokes. “Hey, so whaddarya doin’ in this place anyway? You obviously ain’t makin’ friends.”
There was a long, heavy exhale and then she started making her way further into the building, up a rickety flight of stairs. “Guy on the balcony said that there were settlers inside.”
Hancock scoffed, “Sounds like a fuckin’ trap t’me, sister.”
The woman didn’t reply. She kept making her way deeper and deeper into the building. She didn't need help taking out her attackers; she knew how to grip the gun, how to stand and aim. Now that she knew her shit, she just needed his help to keep a level head. He stayed with her until Fahrenheit came barging into his office.
Fahrenheit looked murderous. He quietly slipped away from his soulmate. Despite severing his part of the connection, he could still feel his soulmate’s presence lingering with his; it was as if she was standing beside him. She would probably stick around until she was finished using his emotions. In the meantime, he would endeavor to remain calm and collected.
“Well, heya stranger,” he said to Fahrenheit. He was eager to tell her of his progress but Fahrenheit didn’t look at all amused. Fahr suffered from resting bitch-face anyway, but after a brief once-over, Hancock was able to tell that she was pissed. More pissed than usual, anyway. Pissed-pissed, one could say. “You kids have fun killin’ muteys?”
“Finn is gonna be a real fuckin’ problem for you.”
Hancock blinked his surprise, then took another drag of his cigarette. Fahrenheit was reaching for her own pack of cigarettes. When Hancock flipped open his lighter she leaned in close and lit up. “Aw, Fahr, ya didn't like yer playdate?”
“I’m serious, Hancock!” A heavy plume of smoke rolled past her lips with each word.
There went his good mood. Hancock dropped his lighter back in his pocket, and gestured for the angry woman to take a seat. She did, and then she launched into the events that took place that day. It didn't take long for Fahrenheit to supply him with all of the juicy details. She wasn’t one to embellish. It would seem that one of his better fighters didn’t really favor how Goodneighbor was being ran – and he wasn’t really keeping those opinions secret. He wanted Fahrenheit’s help taking over, he thought he would be able to win her over – but Hancock and Fahrenheit went way back. He paid her, sure, but he paid all of his employees. Fahrenheit’s loyalty was deeper than her pockets, but Finn didn’t have to know that.
“Asshole was so fucking cocky,” Fahrenheit seethed. “’ You and me can run this place’ – fuckin’ dickhead.”
“Yeah, but what didja say to him?”
“Nothing,” she growled, pinching off the end of her third cigarette with her index finger and thumb.
“Nothing?”
“I don’t talk to idiots.”
He chuckled, rising to his feet. There was a filing cabinet tucked against his work desk. He pulled a bottle of ancient whiskey from one of the drawers and unscrewed the cap. There was some potential for a damn good plan here. He could let Finn keep running his mouth and turn a blind eye. If Finn accumulated any followers, he could get them all taken care of in one fell swoop. After taking a swig from the bottle, he passed it to Fahrenheit, who guzzled down a couple fingers worth of the alcohol. She held the bottle out towards him.
They settled on the couch and shared the bottle, basking in contemplative silence for what seemed like a handful of minutes before Hancock finally came up with an idea worth sharing.
“So what if we—“
“-ELP! HELP! SIR!”
As Hancock’s entire body jolted in surprise, he fumbled the bottle and it clattered to the ground. Alcohol spilled all over the floor. He gasped like he had been stabbed.
“Hancock?” Fahrenheit stood suddenly, her hand dropping to her pistol as she took a step back out of caution. Her reaction pained him (did she think he was going feral?), but he paid it no mind as he reached out towards his soulmate. Images overlapped until he focused on what his soulmate was seeing – and he damn near shit himself.
While sitting in his office, Hancock got a first person point of view of a deathclaw barreling towards his soulmate. He was completely and totally unable to hold back his yell of shock. His body lurched back again, swinging over the arm of the couch. He flopped onto the ground like a sack of tatos. His soulmate’s body was encased in power armor. He could see plating dancing in his periphery, could also feel the padding of the helmet encasing her head. The weapon in his woman’s hands was heavy — fuck, it was a whole-ass minigun. The end of the weapon was spinning, red and angry, but there were no bullets.
“Holy shit,” he heaved. The deathclaw lunged, teeth and claws bared. “HOLY SHIT!” The minigun dropped to the ground with a deafening thud, and a heavily armored fist shot out, ramming into the deathclaw’s open maw. The fist opened, and then clenched down around the bottom half of the creature’s jaw. “Where the fuck is your gun!? Why the fuck are yoU HOLDING ON TO IT LET GO! ” He was yelling at the top of his lungs. He had never felt more horrified in his entire life.
The door to his office slammed open, he could see people dancing in his periphery, and several voices yelled out to him. Fahrenheit yelled back, telling them to lower their weapons and stand down.
With one fist holding the deathclaw hostage, the other raised high and slammed into its head. The first hit slammed into its skull. The second caught on the creature’s giant curved horn. There was an awful pain that blossomed in his wrist, as if his soulmate’s sprained.
“STOP PUNCHING THE THING — WHERE IS YOUR GUN!?”
Another solid punch to its head, and then his woman tucked tail and ran. Or tried to. The armor was cumbersome. Too heavy, too bulky, to run fast and yet she put her all into creating distance between her and the creature. She tore around the corner of a dilapidated building, the deathclaw hot on her heels.
“How do I kill it?!”
“WITH MORE AMMO!”
There was a mess of bodies strewn about the front of the old building, all freshly killed. She continued to charge forward, only to skid to a complete stop. She dropped to her knees and started sifting through the bodies. There was gun fire, not from her, but from another source. And then there was yelling, someone shouting at her. A shotgun was pulled from the blood and gore – a measly, ancient pump action. She pivoted on her armored knee, the plating grinding into something soft and slick. It helped her pivot with ease. She raised the weapon and took aim.
Hancock, still sprawled on the floor in his office, watched helplessly as the deathclaw leapt towards his soulmate once more.
//
Tag List: @takottai / @a-little-pebbl / @brainrot-extravaganza
#Fallout 4#Hancock x Nora#Nora x Hancock#Hancock / Nora#Hancock x Sole Survivor#Hancock / Sole Survivor#Fallout Fanfiction#Fallout Soulmate AU#Soulmate AU#Romance#Angst#One Sided Pining to Mutual Pining#Canon Typical Violence#Drug Use#Alcohol Use#Human x Ghoul#Fallout Hancock#female sole survivor x hancock#Nora Calls Hancock John#Dirty Windows#Slowish Burn#Author is renovating all of the buildings in the commonwealth#No Beta - I'm dying over here#enemies to lovers
31 notes
·
View notes
Note
So.. what's the deal with the cartoon network crossover? 👀
I'm glad you sent an ask I was originally going to make a separate post lol
The AU spawned from wanting to do my own take on FusionFall, which then became a fighting game, then the gameplay was reworked into an original idea and the designs of the CN characters were reworked into a comic. Since it started as a fighter that meant I had planned out separate stages for each franchise, as opposed to one uniform setting such as CN City or the popular shared school au. The fighter didn't really have a plot I just came up with the explanation that the kids are all KND (or TeenND) members and were just having a sparing match and the adult characters were somehow targets or smth. Now the current iteration is most the characters are just on the same planet and become involved in some way or another (probably the KND still). The reoccurring theme is just trying to find people like you.
The most clear idea I've had is between PPG and Ben 10; the girls are known around the world and Ben (and Gwen) feeling lonely want to meet other super hero kids their age. Grandpa Max reminds them they are still strangers and that Ben and Gwen have to keep their identities secret, but does some research into the girls and Professor Utonium and recognizes how he still value's their privacy. Max then tries to get in contact with Utonium to see if getting the kids together would even be a good idea. Utonium himself also recognizes the girls have tried to find other super hero kids to hang out with, but both he and Max spend like a year over email trying to see if they can even trust each other lmao. Eventually after the two meet up (and Max knows he can trust them with the alien thing) they agree to set up a playdate and the focus then moves to the kids as they interact.
Ben and Gwen are like uhhhh aged between the original and Alien Force. Kevin is also there but I want to write a different intro for him that involves Gwen more.
The girls I've pictured as this; Blossom handles the fame best of the 3 and also is the best when it comes to the press while Buttercup and Blossom prefer to stand back. While she is good at being the ideal Powerpuff Girl, she has ambitions in the same science as her father and struggles to balance the two. Buttercup still enjoys the art of fighting the most, and goes on the most solo missions, but gets treated unfairly for her more masculine behavior and has to deal with fitting in with neither girls nor boys. Bubbles also has to deal with unfair treatment by being undermined for being the most girlish (there is no winning) but lacks a hobby like the other two (though she has some artistic merit). She may be the loneliest of the three as a result. Although they all still share a good friend in Robin. Bubbles and Buttercup get along better than they did as kids, though Blossom doesn't want them to feel like she's ignoring the two.
For the sake of simplicity the ending of KND and the G:KND storyline with Nigel being shot into space is ignored. The KND as an organization is trying to expand the TND upon seeing the teen's potential for rebellion. They lack a way to regain old KND members back, so they go out trying to recruit teens while they wait for current KND members to just age up. Sector V was selected for TND and go out and try and recruit new members. The ideas I have for them involve the awkward wait between the V members going 12 -> 13 years and transitioning between jobs. My personal hc was that in the show at one point it's Kuki and Wally at 10, Nigel at 11, then Hoagie and Abby at 12, with Kuki being the youngest and Abby the oldest. During and after this transition phase they are sent out on recruitment missions which is where the crossover stuff comes in.
Hoagie is sent to see if either Dexter or Mandark is available. Mandark is a dick but Dexter get points knocked down for getting funding from the adult-run NASA. It turns into another ego battle between Dexter and Mandark while Hoagie has to deal with the two rich kids. Dee Dee is there to fuck with all 3 of them and is the one that gets recruited. Hoagie probably also treats this like a sports movie or smth.
The Time Squad sometime in the future are homeschooling Otto, they try to get him socializing with kids his age during missions but think that he should be spending time with kids from his century. Otto has been researching not just history but what happens after his time as well. He wants to meet heroes when they were his age.
I have A LOT of ideas for the Eds but most of it isn't crossover material. But I like the idea of them just accidentally walking into other shows, Courage or Foster's in particular.
The world in this AU is basically only limited by shows with hugely conflicting lore. That's vague but that mostly means like, the Land of Ooo conflicts with most shows. So to justify AT it's like. An alternate Earth and somehow Finn finds his way to this one and loses his shit over other humans. While he's glad to find kids like him Jake worries that Finn may prefer this world to Ooo and that he may leave. Jake is all ready to come to terms with this and Finn is like dude what we have only been here for 5 hours.
Billy and Mandy are mostly antags like in the KND crossover. I have a super vague idea for Billy somehow giving up Grim to other kids and they keep trading him for like a corn chip, and while other toon guys go on adventures with the reaper, Mandy drags Billy with her to get Grim back. At some point Numbuh 1 meets the Regular Show crew I forgot to draw and his world view is shattered. Gumball and Darwin are there. Etc.
I'd probably prioritize the first PPG and Ben 10 story as the clearest I got rn. But otherwise I'd love to see other people's crossover stuff and just old CN or cartoons in general.
#cartoon network#i may need to come up with a name for this sort of project#powerpuff girls#ppg#ben 10#knd#dexter's laboratory#time squad#fhfif#eene#eh i wont tag the stuff not with a drawing#myart#asks#i will 100% end up going back and editing this
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
writers 20 questions
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
45 at the moment! I have a few more wips to post on the way so the number is going to go higher
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
130,657
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Stranger Things. I’m looking to branch to other fandoms though like The Locked Tomb in the future
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Standup, You’re Never Too Much, Recapturing the Sunset, Just Another Flesh Wound, One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished
5. Do you respond to comments?
Yes!! But not always as sometimes I immediately forget to reply and when I do, it’s a few weeks or a month later skkshdk forgive me
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Biting Back in Anger. It’s Eddie having a bad day and blowing up at Steve, who leaves trying not to cry :)
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
uhhh most of my fics have happy endings but I think I can nominate The Tinsel Tradition. It has Steve, Eddie, and Robin building a home together in NYC, healed and happy in every queer way!
8. Do you get hate on fics?
nope, thank god
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I’ve been writing more smut recently and exploring some areas. I’m honestly gotten more comfortable though it’s still a challenge to get the right words without coming off as awkward lmao. but that’s Phil’s (@theheadlessphilosopher) job 🫶💜
10. Do you write crossovers?
I’m more of a fusion au writer who borrows the setting and elements and places my blorbos in there than a straight-up crossover. Unless that counts as a crossover? Those two terms are kinds confusing sometimes..
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I’m aware of.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
No
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
There are a couple folks who played around this idea with me but nothing concrete. Though I guess Phil’s beta work can count because he writes better lines and scenarios than me
14. What's your all-time favorite ship?
You’re asking me, a Steddie blog—
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?
oof. I have a TLOU steddie wip based on resande’s sketches, but it’s looking unlikely to be done because the person looking it as my beta reader over got busy with other things and I’ve lost the writing juice 😔
16. What are your writing strengths?
Many people tell me that I am very visceral with my descriptions, esp with horror, and setting the tension is top-notch 🥰 (I am a freak who loves gore and blood tehehehehe)
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I have too many ideas and a problem to actually write what I want that it comes off as juvenile to me. I also have a tendency to gloss over the editing of my fic which I’m trying to break out of.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I honestly don’t mind it at all. However, I do get taken right out of the story if the language is written literally (like kanji for Japanese, Cyrillic for Russian, etc.) and not romanized when the character is speaking because that’s not how it works
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Warrior Cats. We all started our writing careers from that series at some point in middle school lol
20. Favorite fic you've written?
Noooo, I can’t pick favourites- I love them all equally. But FINE, I’ll say it would be When Life Gives You Pickles, Make It Into Soup. I wrote this as mostly self-indulgent because I LOVE pickle soup and is the best comfort food of all time. I think anyone making soup in general for their significant other if PEAK relationship goals because who doesn’t love soup?? Of course I had to Steddie-ify it
thanks to Devon for tagging me! Tagging others with no pressure: @thefreakandthehair @pearynice @3minsover @penny00dreadful @chaosgremlinmunson
@cranberrymoons @dies-somniator
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Hollow Heart - Chapter 17
Pairing: Hellcheer, Gothic AU
Summary: To escape her mother's control and the stifling society of Gilded Age New York, heiress Christabel Cunningham impulsively marries Henry Creel, a charming and seductive stranger, and accompanies him to his remote mansion on the West Coast. There, as Henry grows cold and cruel, Christabel must uncover her husband's sinister secret before it's too late. But can she trust Kas, her husband's enigmatic assistant, who seems to be her only ally in this strange place, or is Kas's loyalty to his master stronger than his attraction to Christabel?
Chapter warnings: violence, blood, fire
Chapter word count: 4.8k
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16
Chapter 17 - Crossed the Shade of Night
"What the hell is this?" Henry's angry voice floated toward the side of the house, where Christabel and Kas were hiding. "What did you mean by shooting down my front door like this, you crazy bastard? Leave at once before I have you committed to an insane asylum!"
"Shit," Kas murmured by her ear. "If they stay by the front door, we can't leave." Whoever standing at the front door would have a clear view of the drive and the dock. There was no way they could reach the boat without detection.
"What shall we do?" she asked.
"Let's hope they go inside, or that man leaves soon."
As if to contradict Kas's wish, Hargrove's voice rose in defiance. "You don't frighten me, Creel," he said. "I know what you are. I'll have it out with you here and now."
"I don't know what you're—"
BANG! A gunshot cut off Henry's voice. Christabel jumped. If it hadn't been for Kas holding her tightly, she would've bolted out of her hiding spot like a partridge that just heard the first bark of the hunting dog.
The silence stretched unbearably while they held their breaths, waiting. It was broken by a roar, like that of a wounded animal, a protracted, inhuman sound that reverberated around the island, froze Christabel's blood, and made her grip Kas's hand in fear. She didn't know who made that sound, Henry or Hargrove. Then there was a scream, a different voice, full of pain and terror, then a crack like a branch snapping, which cut off the scream, and all was quiet again.
"My God," she mouthed. "What's happened?"
Before Kas could answer, Henry's voice came through the front door, so loud that Christabel jumped again. "Kas!!!" he shouted, sounding furious. "Kas!!!"
Kas got to his feet. Christabel grabbed his hand, frantic. "No, don't go! Don't leave me!"
"I have to. I'll head him off. Just wait here." He shook free of her grip and went around the cypress bush, to make it look like he just came from the back of the house.
"Mr. Creel, what—" Christabel heard Kas say, then gasp. "My God, sir. What's happened here?"
"Shut up and get rid of it!" growled Henry. "And clean this mess up! It wouldn't have happened if you had answered the door for me."
"Yes, sir, but let me take a look at that wound first—"
"Just do as you're told!"
A moment later, Kas came back to the side of the house, breathing hard. "He's killed that man," he said.
"What?!"
"And he's gone upstairs. Let's go."
Without another question, she took his hand. They ran down the drive together. Christabel looked over her shoulder as they went, and glimpsed a body lying face-up on the front steps. Hargrove. His neck looked broken. That had always been Henry's favorite method of killing.
Once they reached the dock, she threw her valise into the boat and climbed aboard, while Kas untied the rope.
Another roar from inside the house made Christabel turn around, her heart in her throat.
"Don't look back!" Kas said, jumping into the boat and picking up the oar. "Just go!"
Christabel picked up the other oar to help him, trying to ignore the pain in her arms and her wrists.
Something exploded behind them.
Despite Kas's warning, Christabel found herself looking back, like Lot's wife. And like Lot's wife, what she saw nearly turned her into a pillar of salt.
The stained glass window of Creel House had been blown open, the red rose dripping glass shards onto the front lawn like drops of frozen blood. And, standing on top of the staircase behind it, sighting down the barrel of a rifle at them, was Henry, half of his face covered in blood.
"Get down!" she screamed at Kas, but it was too late. A bullet ripped through the air, and Kas pitched backward in the boat as if pushed by an invisible force. The boat rocked, dangerously close to capsizing.
Impossibly, miraculously, Kas managed to sit up. "Silver bullet," he said through gritted teeth, as blood poured from his right shoulder. "I'm fine. Keep going."
Christabel tried to maneuver both oars with her clumsy hands. There was another crack, and something whizzed through the air. Kas shoved her roughly over the side of the boat. She fell into the frigid waves, but not before white hot pain seared through her upper arm, and she knew that she, too, had been shot.
The freezing water of the bay numbed some of the pain, but it also numbed everything else, and she floundered, coughing and spluttering, unable to find her footing. Then Kas was next to her, pulling her up, and somehow her feet found firm land. It must be the path leading to the shore. She scrambled upon it, trying to stay on the path while moving through water that came up to her knees. Her skirt and petticoat stuck maddeningly to her legs, tangling up like a fishing net, so she had to lift them out of the way, though this was not much better, for her legs were now so frozen that she couldn't move. Kas stumbled next to her, and she dropped her skirts to help him.
"Come on," she said, trying to ignore the sound of furious splashing behind them. This time, she felt no desire to look back. "We're nearly there." Somehow she felt that as soon as they got to shore and escaped the ominous fog of Creel House, they would be safe. It was foolish, she knew. They couldn't get far in this condition, and Henry was getting close.
And then he caught up with them.
There was a metallic sound. Kas cried out as Henry threw a silver chain around his neck. His flesh instantly reddened and scorched wherever the chain touched him, forcing him to his knee. Christabel spun around to face Henry, and drew back in horror. Though the blood had dried on Henry's face, it was clear that Hargrove's gunshot had been much more serious than a bullet or a knife to the chest. Where Henry's left eye had been, there was now only a blackened, gaping red hole. A chunk was missing from his nose, and his left cheekbone had sunken, dragging down the whole left side of his face, making his mouth twist in a grotesque way. At last, his outside reflected his inside. He looked like the monster that he was.
"Are you going to come quietly, or do I have to knock you out again?" he asked her. "And this time I won't be using chloroform." Holding on to Kas's chain with one hand, he turned his rifle around with the other, ready to hit her with its butt.
"Christabel, don't—" Kas gasped.
"Shut up, traitor." Henry whipped at Kas with the end of the chain, and Kas let out a muffled scream. The chain left a burning welt on his cheek.
"Stop it!" Christabel screamed. "Stop hurting him!" Her voice barely made a dent in the silence that engulfed the island and the stretch of shoreline. How alone they were, how utterly alone, in this place of sand and fog and sea. She could scream herself hoarse and nobody would come, nobody would know what happened to them. She swallowed. "I'll go with you."
***
Henry marched them back to the house, pointing the rifle at Christabel's back and holding the silver chain around Kas's neck like a dog leash. He led them to the attic. The worktable had been pushed against a wall, leaving a large space in the middle of the floor. Hundreds of candles were placed around the attic, on the shelves, on the cages where the spiders and the snakes were moving about in agitation, not used to all the bright light and activities. Arcane symbols had been drawn on the floorboard, glistening dark red in the glare of the candles.
Henry pushed Christabel and Kas to their knees and bustled about finishing up the symbols with a brush dipped into the blood-coated glass he'd taken from Christabel's room. When he ran out of blood, Henry rammed the brush into the wound on Christabel's arm. The bullet had only grazed her, thanks to Kas's quick thinking in pushing her out of the way, but the wound was still bleeding. Ignoring her pained whimpers, Henry continued drawing until the symbols formed a complete circle.
"Now, you won't do anything stupid again, will you?" he asked.
Christabel shook her head dully.
"Good. Why couldn't you be this amenable from the start? It would've saved so much trouble. But I guess all of you are the same. You're so full of bravado until you have to face your own mortality, and then even the bravest man is reduced to a bubbling, sniveling mess." He sniggered. "That's why I do all of this, you know. So I can rise above it. Don't worry," he added in what he undoubtedly thought was a reassuring voice. "I'll give you a quick, clean death. As for this"—he turned to Kas, who was slumped over next to her, bound by the chain from neck to wrists—"this traitorous vermin, death is too good for him."
He aimed a sound kick at Kas's torso. Kas curled up without a sound, and Christabel grimaced, feeling that kick deep within her as though Henry had directed it at herself. But she tried to swallow her sob, knowing any display of weakness would only raise Henry's contempt for them.
"After everything I've done for you, this is the thanks I get?" Henry was still raving and ranting at Kas. "I've raised you! You would be dead without me!"
"Didn't you mean 'everything you've done to me'?" Kas said, breathing heavily as he tried to sit up straight. "You killed my mother. You turned me into a monster."
Henry looked between the two of them, sneering. "I see that you two have compared notes, while you're not busy cuckolding me. That's all you puny minds could think of, you can never see the bigger picture... Yes. I admit it. I killed your mother. And I'm going to enjoy killing you too. Once you've watched me drain the life out of her"—he pointed at Christabel with a knife, the same steak knife he'd confiscated from her—"I'll leave you outside to be finished off by the sun."
Christabel turned to Kas. Their hands found each other, and he gave her a smile, still sweet and gentle despite the splatters of blood on his face and the paleness of his skin. I'm here, that smile said. I will always be here. I'll never leave you. She smiled back and squeezed his hand, finding strength in his touch, his eyes, his smile. They were going to die, she accepted that now. But at least they would die together.
"Enough of that," Henry said. He didn't seem particularly angry to discover their affair; rather, he was more annoyed at their display of human affection than anything else. He pulled them apart and checked his pocket watch. "Now, it's time for you to witness my genius."
He brought the bottles of blood and venom out of the icebox, took the arsenic and belladonna down from a shelf, and started measuring and mixing them in a large glass jar, his movements rapid but precise. Soon, he had in the jar a thick mixture, so dark it was almost black.
Henry turned upon Christabel once more, brandishing the knife. She braced herself for the worst, but he only took her hand, pricked her finger with the tip of the knife, and squeezed a drop of blood into the mixture. It immediately glowed with a sinister blue sheen.
Nodding at the mixture in satisfaction, Henry lifted the pendant that hadn't left Christabel's neck since the day she came to Creel House and pressed her cut finger into it. He then pricked his own finger and smeared it across the red rose, mixing their blood together. The pendant started to glow blue as well, turning the red rose a dark shade of purple, like a bruise.
Henry put the pendant around his own neck and strode into the circle. He started chanting in a strange language, the attic carrying his low voice around and echoing it back, making it sound like he had a choir of men behind him. That sound brought an unknown, unspeakable terror to Christabel's heart, and she scrambled across the floor toward Kas as he, too, reached out for her. Wordlessly, hands clutching each other, they watched as Henry continued his ritual, not understanding any of it, unable to guess what horror awaited them at the end of it, only knowing that it was there, and it was inevitable. The pendant glowed more and more brightly, overpowering the candles, forcing Christabel and Kas to turn away from its glare, as blue and as malevolent as Henry's remaining eye. That eye was open, but Henry didn't appear to be seeing them. To him, they had ceased to exist, save as a part of his spell.
Finally, mercifully, the chanting stopped. Henry stretched out his arms on either side of him, lifted his face to the ceiling, closed his remaining eye, and fell silent. The pendant continued to glow, pulsating like the beating of a heart. Watching Henry, Christabel had the same feeling she'd had in her dream of Luna's death, that feeling of waiting, waiting breathlessly, endlessly, as she fell through the air to the freezing water beneath the cracked ice.
The glow went out.
The sudden loss of such an intense light made it seem the room had been plunged into darkness, despite the candles still spluttering all around it. When Christabel's eyes adjusted, she saw that Henry had not moved from his spot in the middle of the circle, though now his uninjured eye was open again and clouded in confusion. For the first time since starting the ritual, he seemed unsure of himself.
He chanted a few words.
Nothing happened.
He repeated them. Still nothing.
He lifted the pendant and examined it, frowning. It seemed to Christabel that the stained glass had lost its brilliance and was now a dull red, looking no better than when she'd dug it out of the chimneypiece at the original Creel House.
"This is impossible," Henry mumbled. "I did everything right... it has to work..." He whirled around to Christabel. "Did you do anything to the pendant? Did you try to break it?"
She shrank away from him, from the hateful stare of his cyclopean eye. "No."
"Tell me the truth!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said desperately. "I didn't do anything!"
Somewhere below, in the bowels of the house, the clock chimed solemnly. One, two, three, four, five. It was five o'clock already. Daybreak was coming soon.
The sound of the clock threw Henry into a panicking rage.
"But you've made your vows—with the phylactery in your hand, at the site of its discovery, under the moon!" he screamed at Christabel, spittle flying from his mouth. "You've pledged your heart and soul to me! It has to work! You must have done something to it!"
So that was the purpose of those vows, the ones she'd found so romantic, the ones she'd said with such naïve glee in the woods of Tuxedo Park. That was the ritual mentioned in the diary. Heart pledging ritual successful. It was to keep her bound to his will...
No. Not his will. She'd said the vows again, just earlier that night, to someone else.
"What have you done?" Henry seized Christabel's arms and pulled her up until their faces were mere inches apart. Blood-flecked saliva hit her, and she turned away in disgust. "What have you done?!"
"I've made my vows to someone else," replied Christabel. She glanced at Kas. Understanding dawned on Kas's face and lit up his eyes. She turned back to Henry now, looking straight at him. "A tip for you, Henry," she said. Somehow she managed to keep her voice steady, triumphant, despite her fear. "If your spell depends on your wife pledging her heart and soul to you, then don't treat her with such coldness and cruelty that she falls in love with someone else. But you wouldn't know anything about love, would you?"
With a snarl, Henry backhanded her, sending her to the floor. Black fire burst before her eyes. Through the ringing in her ears, she could barely make out the rattling of the silver chain as Kas strained against it, and his voice cursing Henry.
Then the curses turned into a roar. Kas broke free of the chain and lunged at Henry. Holding the chain between his hands, Kas wrapped the chain around Henry's throat and pulled, heedless of the burn. Henry, his face turning purple, grappled with the chain with one hand, while the other reached for the knife, which had fallen on the floor beside him. Christabel's eyes cleared just in time for her to see the knife flash in Henry's hand. She cried out a belated warning, which turned into an anguished scream when Henry buried the knife between Kas's ribs.
Kas pulled the knife out dripping red and threw it away, far away, before going back for Henry, hitting Henry with his bare fists now. Henry picked up the silver chain Kas just dropped and used it to parry off the blows, shoving Kas toward a bookshelf in a corner. Kas went sprawling, knocking over the shelf in a shower of candles and books and jars. He shook himself off and got to his feet again, but his movements were slower now, less sure, and he kept a hand over the stab wound on his side. He was losing strength.
The rifle. Where was the rifle? Christabel cast wildly about for it until her eyes landed on the rifle leaning against a corner near the worktable. Henry was stalking toward Kas, his back to her. She made a dash for the rifle and pulled the trigger without aiming.
Bang! The kickback sent her reeling, and the bullet, missing Henry by a mile, only alerted him of her presence. He turned around to her, his mouth twisted in an ugly grimace.
"Kas, here!" she shouted, sliding the rifle across the floor toward Kas.
Kas caught the rifle with his foot, and, almost too fast for Christabel to see, he lifted it and pointed it at Henry. But he didn't shoot. Christabel thought she could see the old fear and something almost like regret in Kas's eyes. After all, Henry was the only family he ever knew...
That brief moment of hesitation was all that Henry needed. In a flash, he grabbed Christabel, pulled out another knife, a silver dagger with a wickedly curved blade, and put it to her throat.
"Your choice, Kas," Henry said, his voice dripping with ice and malice.
Kas kept the rifle pointed at Henry, but the barrel was shaking. He looked between Christabel and Henry, hatred and fear waging a war across his face. Christabel wanted to tell him to shoot anyway, to not worry about her, but she seemed to have frozen up, afraid that if she even moved an inch, that razor-sharp blade would split her throat open.
Kas threw the rifle to the floor and took a step back.
"That's better," Henry said. He turned to Christabel, pressing his mouth close to her ear. "Now, this may be another failed experiment, but I'm not writing you off altogether, darling. You still have a working, beating heart. That will buy me another thirty, forty years, enough to find me another bride. And trust me, I won't make the same mistake with her as I did with you..."
Fear and revulsion rose within Christabel, making her shake from head to foot. Then Henry's grip on her unexpectedly loosened, and she realized it wasn't she who was shaking.
It was the floor.
"Earthquake," Henry growled under his breath, more to himself than to anyone else.
He backed away, bracing against a shelf, without letting go of Christabel or the dagger. On the other side of the arcane circle, Kas stumbled to all four, struggling to keep his balance. His fingers were a hair's breadth away from the rifle, but he didn't dare make a move, not when the dagger was still at Christabel's throat.
The entire attic trembled, the content of the shelves crashing to the floor. The edge of the worktable pressed painfully into the small of Christabel's back, while the many glass jars and bottles and vials on it clattered and fell, shattering into a million pieces. Henry didn't seem to care about the loss of his potions. He was too busy watching Kas and the rifle, while keeping a firm grip on Christabel's arm, fingers digging painfully into her gunshot wound.
The table tipped, and Christabel felt something roll over to her hand. She grabbed at it, feeling the heavy glass under her fingers.
Strange. A moment ago she'd been ready to die with Kas. But now, knowing that Henry's spell had failed, she wanted to live more than ever. To live, and to be free.
Without pausing to think, she lifted the glass thing and slammed it into Henry's face. It turned out to be a spirit lamp, which broke, sharp shards of glass embedding themselves in Henry's cheeks and forehead.
A terrible shriek went up as Henry clamped his hands over his ruined face.
Christabel ran over to Kas's side and helped him to his feet. Clinging to each other, they found cover under a shelf while the whole house continued to shudder violently around them. The glass cages were shaken out of their moorings; some crashed to the floor and broke open, their inhabitant swarming free, all fleeing, through the cracks between the boards at the windows, under the door, any way they could, as fast as they could, away from the destruction. Christabel bit back a repulsed cry when a snake crawled over her legs to safety. Kas picked it up and flung it away, and the snake didn't even react. It just frantically slunk under the door and disappeared.
The alcohol inside the broken lamp spilled across the floor, joining the toppled candles. Fire erupted all over the attic.
"We have to get out of here," said Kas.
They sprinted out from their cover, jumping over snakes and spiders and fire, toward the door, only to find their way barred by Henry.
"Where do you think you're going?" he said, the dagger in his hand glinting in the fire. "You won't get away with this, you know. There is no court of law in this country that will fail to convict you. Oh, I can just see the headlines now. Woman engaged in affair with servant, plot to murder husband. You cannot escape me!"
The rifle lay forgotten on the floor behind him. He could still stab either of them before they could reach it. They stood facing him, wavering, neither knowing what to do, while all around them, the fire reached higher and higher, and the earthquake threw more paper and books and wood and chemicals into it, feeding it, the creaking of timbers mixing with the crackling of the flames.
From outside came a strange rumble, starting from afar and getting louder and louder, as the Earth tore itself apart. It was mixed with the frantic clanging of the bell hung by the shore, rung by some phantom hand, as though the ghosts themselves were trying to sound the alarm.
With a great groan like that of a dying beast, the house split in two.
The force of the break threw them all off their feet. By the time Christabel scrambled to her hands and knees, the trembling of the earth had subsided. Kas was picking himself up next to her. They surveyed the scene before them with astonished eyes.
The earthquake had shaken Creel House from its very foundation and rended the house into two halves like a loaf of bread. A jagged hole lay gaping before them, where the floor of the attic had been broken up, and the slowly brightening sky looked down on them through a crack in the roof.
Dangling over the hole on the floor, holding to its edge for dear life, was Henry.
His face was coming off—literally, with patches of skin melting away like candlewax under a flame, showing the raw flesh underneath. This wasn't the work of Hargrove's bullet, or Kas's fists, or Christabel's spirit lamp, or even the raging fire. Two hundred years' worth of aging was catching up with him. His hair disappeared. His nose and lips and ears shriveled up. His remaining eye, once a brilliant blue, now clouded over, but its malevolent glare was still fixed on Christabel and Kas, terrible in its fury and hatred.
Then the house gave one last dying shudder, jostling his hands from their purchase, and the vicious look in his eye was gone, replaced by, for the first time, fear. Henry managed to hold on to the edge with his left hand.
"Save me, please," he begged through his shriveled-up lips, extending his right hand to them.
Neither Christabel nor Kas moved.
"Save me, Christabel," Henry repeated, turning to her. "I'll let you two go free. I promise."
Christabel couldn't stir even if she wanted to, too horrified by the decay happening before her eyes.
Henry turned to Kas. "Please," Henry muttered with his last strength. "I'll tell you your real name. Your mother, she whispered it to me before she died. I'll tell you who she was..."
For a dreadful moment, Christabel felt Kas waver. Then he looked at her and squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"My name is Kas," he said to Henry. "That's all I've ever been, and that's what I'm content to be."
Henry's beseeching look vanished in an instant. His lips twisted up in a horrible snarl, showing his teeth. He started to lift himself up by his remaining hand, pulling himself up from the edge, like a skeleton rising from the fiery mouth of Hell.
Kas snatched up the silver dagger from the floor, rushed forward, and, in one swift movement, chopped off Henry's left hand.
Henry's mouth fell open in shock. He tumbled backward. As if this finally released them from the binding spell they were under, Christabel and Kas ran to the edge and caught the last baneful glare of his eye as he stared at the bloody stump where his hand used to be and back at them, before he disappeared into the abyss.
Time seemed to be held on suspension while they stood there, looking into the destruction below. Some of the candles had toppled through the attic floor, and fire was now raging throughout the house.
The heat and the smoke reminded them of their predicament. Seizing Christabel's hand, Kas kicked down the door and pulled her out of the attic. More flames blocked their way. Throwing his arms around Christabel to shield her from the worst of the fire, Kas ran through it. They stumbled downstairs. The earthquake had knocked down doors and walls and torn the staircase apart, and more than once, Kas made the wrong step and would've fallen through a crack if it hadn't been for Christabel pulling him back to safety. Leaning against each other, they made it to the second floor. The air was thick with smoke. Christabel bent over, coughing and choking, her eyes watering.
"Let me carry you," she heard Kas say through the roar of the fire.
"No," she gasped. Kas was in no better shape than she was, she would only slow him down. "I can manage."
They pushed on. The landing now, where billows of smoke were flowing through the broken stained glass window. Now the first floor. She was so close to freedom. They both were.
The smoke was now so thick and so dark that she couldn't see where the front door was. She was back in her nightmare, surrounded by the ghosts of Henry's victims, being erased little by little, only this time, it was not by a cold, damp fog, but by smoke, thick, black, suffocating smoke that invaded her throat and her lungs until she could breathe and taste nothing else, until she was nothing but smoke. The last thing she was aware of was stumbling to the ground, hitting the floorboard with her cheek, then her whole body was jostled up and down violently, like the earthquake was coming back, and she knew no more.
Chapter 18 (last chapter)
A/N: It would be a lie if I said I chose the setting for this story (San Francisco in the early 1900s) solely so I could feature the 1906 San Francisco earthquake in its climax… but it was a very early decision. The moment I chose an Edwardian and US setting, I knew SF with all its fog and its earthquakes would be fun to explore. I also had some fun with the DnD lore in this chapter, with Kas chopping off Vecna's left hand, and the bit about Creel offering to tell Kas his real name was borrowed from Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrel. Only one chapter left! Stay tuned!
#hellcheer#hellcheer fic#eddie munson#chrissy cunningham#joseph quinn#eddie x chrissy#eddissy#hellcheer au#henry creel#joseph quinn fic#kas!eddie#vampire!eddie munson
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
20 Questions for Writers!
I was tagged by @devondespresso @pearynice and @spicysix!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
I have 15! 14 in Stranger Things, and one abandoned Marvel fic that I don’t have the strength to admit is really abandoned.
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
158,993! Over 100,000 of that was in the last 6 months, which is absolutely wild for my lizard brain to comprehend. (Writing, it's free therapy).
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Stranger Things! Like I said above, I used to write for Marvel, but most of my interest in the MCU went out the window after Multiverse of Madness. (Don’t worry, I still love you Spiderman <3)
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Eddie Munson’s Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps
Closer to Fine
Something’s In My Mine (and I’m Focused On You)
Summer Child
Don’t Cry Over Spilled Tang (Steve Learns to Cry)
5. Do you respond to comments?
Yes! As much as I can! I’ve been taking a little impromptu break from comment responses but I loveee getting to interact with comments, it brings so much joy to my life!
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I tend to stay pretty firmly in the happy ending cap, but I think that Tonight, Tonight is my saddest/angstiest ending.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Oh man, I’m gonna give this to Summer Child (linked above). It was a birthday gift to myself, and even if it’s kinda unrealistic to suddenly have all of Steve’s problems fixed within 2,500 words, I needed some tooth-rotting fluff.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I have in the past, but I really don’t in the Stranger Things fandom!
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Not reallllly. I have quite a few fade to black moments in fics though. I might have some smut in an upcoming fic, but I personally don’t love adding smut to a story focused on plot unless it advances the plot. Just a personal preference thing!!
10. Do you write crossovers?
No (?)- I’m not opposed, and I seriously LOVE reading Spiderman-Stranger Things crossovers, but I haven’t written anything yet. If inspiration strikes though, I’d be down.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I’m aware of, but I’d totally love this!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
My friend and I had a notebook in middle school that we would pass back and forth and write Supernatural reader insert in-
Uhhhh I mean no.
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
Steddie <3
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?
This award goes to Why Can’t This Be Love (my Marvel fic). Everything else I’ve written that has been posted will be or has been completed!
16. What are your writing strengths?
I think characterization and dialogue are my strengths, with the obvious caveat that my fics tend to be AU or canon divergence, so my characterization is certainly not spot-on to what you see in the show, but I think that I’m good at it for the story that I’m writing.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Pacing and descriptors. I definitely have some moments where I’m like “I need to get this over with, this does not need to be so descriptive” but I get attached to the little world I’ve written and struggle to delete whatever is getting in the way.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
Oooo. Personally I think it depends, but I tend to lean towards no unless you have someone who can speak that language consulting with you.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Doctor Who (and I am embarrassed to admit that I wrote it on a typewriter and gave it to my 6th grade teacher to show her I was good at writing).
20. Favorite fic you've written?
Something’s In My Mind is my favorite child and probably will be for always. I love those funky little guys <3 <3
Some people I'm challenging! No stress tags, apologies if you've already been tagged and/or have already completed this 20 questions game. (Also if you haven't been tagged but would like to partake, this is your informal invitation to do so!!) @hairstevington @klausinamarink @hellfireloserclub
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
tagged by @goodlucktai <3333
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
45 lol but i have I think. 30 wips that exist somewhere on my computer at any given moment. alas.
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
701,032
which..... is like far too many words per fic actually imo
3. What fandoms do you write for?
honestly whatever currently grabs my brain stem changes a lot but i think my top ones are tmnt and stranger things (what a wild combo actually). Actively atm I have a trigun wip and a tmnt one
4. Top five fics by kudos?
A Kiss is a Kiss (But it's never like this) - 6,528
(something happens and I'm) head over heels - 3,518
Green with Envy - 1,880
Forget the mess I'm in - 1,791
Weak Point - 1,366
5. Do you respond to comments?
literally I am the WORST for remembering to reply I'm so sorry. I must say that I do read all of them in my email and screenshot them and cry
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
angsty endings are too much 4 me I believe so strongly in hurt/comfort but....
Impossible Things and the Tin Can I think is the most like, conceptually tragic series I've written
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Comfort is a requirement but I think but like Stepping over the line is basically just an extended meet cute so nothing really sad happens at all lol?
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Actually genuinely have never gotten a rude comment in my life I did once get someone being hyper pushy about new chaps when I was like.... 19? Sometimes comments veer I think towards misunderstanding unreliable narrator elements and can be a little intense as a result
9. Do you write smut?
ehhhhhh closest I've ever gotten was dancing around the topic lol
10. Craziest crossover?
omg me and tai have gone down some rabbit holes and made a tangled/good omens fusion among other things, which was cute 2 me
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
not that I know of!
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I've gotten some requests, not sure if they got uploaded anywhere?
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I did once many years ago but we didn't end up finishing it from what I remember!
14. All time favourite ship?
oh god I mean. ineffable husbands and wangxian invented romance. big mckirk and vashwood fan despite what my published fics would tell you. stsg ruined my life this year. I'm really big on platonic friendships though personally
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
My google docs are a cesspit of fics I will never finish. Once made a wangxian softball fic that will never see the light of day but I think of it fondly
16. What are your writing strengths?
Might actually be a weakness and not a strength but boy do I love prosey metaphor nonsense. Sometimes I think it works other times who's 2 say.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Fighting scenes man, combat is hard as hell.
18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
in general I dooooon't write it too much just because I don't speak anything beyond like. grade 2 level spanish so.
19. First fandom you wrote in?
tmnt :' )
20. Favourite fic you've written?
Oh tricky. Stealing tai's idea of a top 5
Forget-Me-Nots - :') big ol love u to tai for this
Both the Sweet and the Bitter - so sorry to anyone who follows me for ST fics because I'm probably never going to write for it ever again or finish this but a dear friend of mine helped me with this story and it means a lot 2 me as a result. The flower metaphors were fun to research.
Plain White Beach Houses - also same as the above but idk pacific rim au....house metaphors.... I love this series a lot
change up, high inside - wanted to write a softball fic for my whole life basically and this is more or less me just waxing poetic about the sport if I'm honest
Feedback Loop - this fic was actually insane like. took me I think a full year to write out? There's a lot of stuff in this that I lol cannot reread anymore for reasons but damn if it wasn't a learning experience to write all around
Tagging @eternalglitch @byrdybyrd02 @jinbugs if u want to besties!
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Simon.
Part 8
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au
Note: I still can't believe that I've written 8 whole chapters for a oneshot that I never planned on making into a series! But I'm glad it's coming along well and that you're enjoying it :) I hope you enjoy this chapter too.
Tags: @cmbghost @gluttonybiscuits @paintlavillered @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @iimichie
@mxtokko
“Morning, Simon!”
____ and Lindsey arrived at Simon's door at seven in the morning as planned. His crush was the one who excitedly greeted him, while her friend looked disgruntled and ticked at having to be up so early.
“Morning,” he greeted them civilly as his hand instinctively ran through his hair, trying not to appear even the slightest disheveled or flustered at the sight of ____’s smiles, and moved away from the door to let the two in.
“Have a seat. I'll bring you some tea,” he said, promptly moving towards the kitchen.
The ladies, particularly the author, took in the surroundings of his little flat as they entered and sat down. The entire place as a whole was simple. The walls of the living room were empty and unpainted except for a singular, ancient grandfather clock that hung alone near his curtained balcony, filling the quiet room with its rhythmic ticking. She saw that he was concerned more with pragmatics than aesthetics; if it didn't serve a purpose, then it wasn't needed.
She saw that he favored dark colors of blue and black, and neutrals, but found that bright colors were speckled throughout the room in his red floor lamp, the gold painted knobs of his brown television stand, and the red and white chevron patterned cushions on his grey couch. The simple state of his room made her wonder if his bedroom was more personalised.
A hint of green caught her attention and she turned to the balcony. A few potted plants of mint, tomatoes, and coriander, all of which were healthy and green, swayed gently in the morning breeze. She smiled at this. “He’s a gardener,” she thought to herself, not quite expecting it.
The smell of lemon and mint wafted through the air, bringing her thoughts back. Simon brought out a tray of three mismatched teacups and a glass teapot filled with what smelled and looked like lemon tea.
“Have some tea,” he set down the tray on the coffee table and poured out the tea for them.
She, wanting to use Simon as a model for her character, Frederick, watched keenly as he poured with a thoughtful, concentrated look on his face. She wondered why he used a glass teapot over porcelain or any other material, but that was probably not important. However, she was not going to let even the smallest things about him and his choices escape her scrutiny.
“When will Johnny come?” asked Lindsey as soon as she had her sip of tea.
Simon glanced at the grandfather clock. “At six forty-five, he said he'd be here in ten minutes. He's picking up our other friend, Kyle too. Maybe there's some hold-up,” he answered. He felt a little strange; it was his first time properly speaking to Lindsey, and she seemed to look judgingly at him, as if to find a fault.
____ was silent, as she was more concentrated on the taste and temperature of her tea. It was lightly sweetened and refreshing thanks to the lemon and mint. A mental note was already taken that Frederick too would be good at brewing tea.
Simon's ringtone tore the silence and he immediately slid the phone out of his jeans. Thinking it was Johnny, he looked expectantly, but it was his mum. Looking back at the ladies, he excused himself and went out to the balcony to talk.
“What do you think of him?” ____ asked Lindsey, who took slow sips of her tea as the two watched the man pace around the balcony through the partially drawn translucent curtains.
“He makes good tea,” she answered, “I think I'll approve of him a bit.” To Lindsey, a man who could brew a good tea was worth marrying, because, according to her, it meant that he cared about the little things, like making tea taste good. As ____ smiled, she paused for a moment before quipping, “He seems nice so far, but I don't trust him just yet.”
____ shook her head, chuckling. Lindsey was always so skeptical of everyone and everything, both a vice and a virtue.
Simon soon emerged from the balcony into the living room, brows furrowed with concern. He looked straight at ____ and said, “I need to have a word with you, darling,” and then promptly stepped into the kitchen without waiting for an answer, expecting her to follow.
She instantly set down her teacup and followed Simon into the kitchen. “What's the matter?” she asked as soon as she entered, finding him leaning his back on the kitchen counter, arms crossed.
He turned to her, almost opening his mouth to speak but cautiously glanced at the open door; he looked back at her, beckoning her to come closer. When she did, he said, “I don't know how you'll react to this but I need you to hear me out, alright, darling?”
Her curiosity heightened and she nodded.
“Y'see, my mum just called and they're going to have a family reunion soon since my old man's come back home for a holiday from his military service,” he paused, sucking in a sharp breath, unsure about how she would take his next words, but continued anyway, “And my mum asked me if I found a girlfriend yet because she's worried I'm going to die single…” he paused again, “and I may have accidentally told her that you're my girlfriend.”
“You what?” she stared incredulously at Simon, although she wasn't quite opposed to what he did.
“Yeah,” he sighed, shaking his head, embarrassed with himself, “I'm really sorry.”
“Wait, does your mum know about me?”
“Yeah, I told her a few weeks ago that I recently made friends with this lass,” he paused to sigh again, “And when she asked if I finally found a girlfriend, I accidentally said yes, and when she asked if it was you…” he paused again and shrugged.
The lady paused. Now that he said it, it couldn't be helped and she had to play along. Not that it bothered her. She chuckled. “Well, it's alright. You take the trouble of pretending to be my boyfriend, so I guess it wouldn't hurt to pretend to be your girlfriend for a bit.”
Simon looked back at her, visibly relieved.
“Now, what do you need me to do?” she asked.
“That's the hard part. We'll have to make up a story of how we met and how we hit it off. And I'll have to bring you home and introduce you to my family. And not just that, you know who else will be there.” He pursed his lips tight.
She immediately knew. She wiped her clammy hands on her jeans and nodded. “Right, yes.”
He could see the apprehension on her face and in her body as she crossed her arms. Feeling terrible that he dragged her into this, he said, “Darling, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. If going there and meeting him again will make you uncomfortable, then I'm not forcing you to come with me.”
She drew in a shaky breath and pondered for a moment. Simon watched her, gulping harshly.
“No,” she finally said, resolute, “I shouldn't be so scared all the time. If I'm going to be there as your girlfriend, I shouldn't be afraid of some ex of mine.”
Simon blinked in surprise at this response. He appreciated her bravery, and felt his admiration for her increase. However, he didn't show it, and kept his facial expressions neutral with a little smile. “I guess, yeah,” he nodded. He paused for a moment, wanting to say something else, but she beat him to it.
“If anything happens, you’ll stick up for me, won’t you?” she asked smilingly, “Since you’re my “boyfriend”.”
He felt his heart leap. That was the exact thing he wanted to assure her of, and it flattered him greatly to know that they had been thinking of the same thing. Even though he knew this was going to be a pretense, it rubbed his male instincts and ego right to be depended on for protection.
He answered with a wide smile, “Of course, my love.”
“Why d’ye drive a manual?” asked Johnny as soon as he took the shotgun seat, watching ____ take her place in the driver's seat.
“Tut tut,” she shook her head, bringing out a mini sombrero from her pocket which she placed on the gear stick, “It's Emmanuel.”
The three passengers in the back, from left to right– Simon, Lindsey, and Gaz, watched as Johnny burst out laughing, also making ____ laugh as she got the car started.
“Ghosty, she's a woman of culture!” Johnny exclaimed, looking back at his best friend.
Simon made no answer as he was upset that he couldn't sit next to ____. Lindsey felt similarly, but for Johnny. Regardless of that, the drive began with gusto, with Johnny and Gaz filling the time with their singing and jokes, while the other three listened.
____ drove for the first hour, and Johnny took over for the second and the two switched seats, exchanging jokes and quips with ease, making both Simon and Lindsey at the back miserable and jealous. Simon drove for fifteen minutes in the third hour until he nearly hit a tree, but swerved back to the road right on time to avoid damaging both the car and his crush's esteem. Gaz took over for the remaining forty-five minutes, and Simon was banished to the back seat.
Thankfully for him, ____ sat next to him to console him, “Don't worry. After all, you did say that if you tried really hard, you wouldn't hit a tree. You did great for fifteen minutes at least!”
Simon chuckled out of embarrassment. It didn't make him feel any better, but he appreciated her effort.
The camping spot was soon in sight. It was around ten in the morning when Gaz parked the car in the shed of a little cabin. The ladies learnt that the spot belonged to one of Gaz's relatives, who was happy to lend it out to anyone who needed it. And from how the three men scampered around the place relaxedly, it was evident that they were regular visitors.
The fenced piece of land was right next to a little lake which afforded a view of the distant green hills speckled with heathers and daisies. A lonely little dock hung over the surface of the water, which, as Simon informed the ladies, “made a nice fishing spot”.
The group first decided to begin their hike as planned before unloading the car. England's weather was notorious for being fickle and since the skies were currently clear of all rain clouds, the hike was chosen as the first activity.
The trail was an easy one, chosen for the benefit of the ladies who were partially accustomed to walking on rocky, uneven terrain. The end of it promised a little waterfall, which Johnny was excited about showing them, as was evident in his constant singing of sea shanties while they hiked. Gaz happily joined him, while the ladies and Simon chose to be their audience like earlier.
“Johnny sure loves to sing,” observed ____, who trudged between Lindsey and Simon.
“He's a born singer,” replied Simon with a sigh, sounding both proud of and annoyed with his friend, “And he was a theater kid too. Acted in tons of musicals and plays, mostly musicals. Put him together with Gaz and they'll be singing and dancing all day.”
She chuckled. “How long have you guys known each other?”
“Johnny's my childhood friend. We've known each other since we were ten years old. As for Gaz, both of us met him in university and we quickly became friends,” he explained, kicking a rock out of the way.
The two ladies looked at each other. “That's a long time,” remarked Lindsey, “You all must be really close then.”
“Too close,” Simon said dryly, but there was a hint of affection in his voice. He then turned to the ladies to ask, “And what about you two? How long have you been friends?”
“Since high school,” ____ answered, smilingly linking her arm with Lindsey's, “She's basically my sister now.”
Simon smiled. He could tell, for the moment he saw them together, they stuck to each other like glue and didn't leave each other's side for more than a few moments.
Johnny looked back at the calm trio behind him and Gaz. “Jolene!” He called Lindsey by her nickname. When he had her attention, he beckoned her to join him in singing.
“I don't know any of the songs you're singing!” she protested.
“Dinnae ye worry, wee lassie!” he retraced his steps, put an arm around her shoulders, and dragged her ahead with him, making her squeal and stumble. “Gaz and I will teach you!” he promised, and kept his arm around her as they hiked up the hillock.
While the two men busied themselves in teaching Lindsey to sing ‘Bully in the Alley’, ____ and Simon were left to themselves. The lady smiled at Lindsey's attempts to sing, though she was no singer.
“Lindsey hates singing,” she whispered to Simon, “It's crazy how she's doing it for Johnny.” A girlish giggle escaped her lips at the thought of a romance blooming between the two. Her authorly brain couldn't help but conjecture all the sweet moments they would have, worthy of a novel of its own.
“And I'll tell you what, Johnny's never been this fixated on one woman for this long either. He's normally a huge flirt, a ladies’ man, if you will. I'm just as surprised as you are,” answered Simon.
The mention of Johnny being a flirt worried her. She knew Lindsey to almost easily give her affections to anyone who would look her way, starved for love as she was. But she decided to stay out of the way and watch the two for now. If Johnny ever did anything that would hurt Lindsey, she would not hesitate to confront him.
The hike was now proving to get a little tiring, and ____ let out a sigh as she paused to catch her breath and drink some water. Simon stopped too, looking down at her from the slightly steep ascent.
“Are you tired?” he asked.
“A little, yeah.”
He bent his knee and lowered himself slightly, holding out his hand. “Come on,” he encouraged, “Just a little more and we'll be at the waterfall.”
She took his outstretched hand, and no sooner they made contact, a jolt of electricity ran down both their spines. Simon gulped harshly at this reaction, and she felt an additional tingle in her stomach. His larger, more rugged hand held her softer and smaller hand in his, and he pulled her up the ascent with ease. She thanked him as soon as they were next to each other, Simon, eager to be of further assistance, held out his arm to her.
“You can hold my arm if you want to,” he offered, trying to sound as casual as he could, though his thoughts begged her to give him the honour of accepting him.
Her hand practically flew to his arm in an instant, wrapping just below his bicep. Simon never felt more depended upon than now as the two began walking together. And she was completely flattered by his kind offer, trying to suppress her smiles and blushes. The two were, without doubt, over the moon.
The lady was sure to make mental notes about everything Simon did. Frederick would be tall and brooding, but a kind-hearted and observant gentleman with a soft spot for Adelheid.
“This reminds me of the Jane Austen novels where the men would offer their arms to the ladies when they got tired as they walked,” she commented with a bright smile and a certain twinkle in her eye as she moved closer to him, allowing her hand to curl tighter against his arm.
He noted the expression on her face and the movement and instinctively flexed his bicep so that she could feel it. He smiled in response to her comment and said with a chuckle, his cheeks overspread with a light pink, “So it was a custom back then? Interesting.” He hadn't read a lot of Regency era novels to know of past English social customs, but he seemed intrigued by this one aspect that she mentioned. Wanting to know if she really approved of it, asked, “Do you like it?”
She loved it, but for the sake of being mild, said, “I think it's nice, especially now when I don't see men doing this sort of thing.”
“So you like gentlemen then?”
She giggled. “A lot.”
Simon took note of this immediately. If she liked a gentleman, a gentleman he would be. If men of his day didn't do the things he did, like offering their arm, or pulling out the chair for her at a table, he most certainly would do it, for he didn't want to be like other men. He wanted to be special and singled out by her.
They began descending down a slightly slippery, gravelly path that led to the waterfall, and Simon took hold of her upper arm this time as he led her down so that she wouldn’t fall in case she slipped over the loose gravel. He was reminded yet again of how much smaller she was compared to him, and it only heightened his desire to keep her safe.
The gurgle and rush of water from the distant waterfall was soon heard, and a few meters of walking on level ground finally brought them to the waterbody familiar to the men. Johnny cheered like he never saw a waterfall before, loud enough for his voice to echo in the wilderness, and for Lindsey to cover her ears and curse under her breath.
“We're here!”
End of Part 8.
Part 9
Like always, leave a comment if you want to be added to my taglist!
#call of duty#aoioozora writes#Simon series#cod x reader#cod x you#cod x y/n#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#cod#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#cod fluff#fluff#fanfic#fanfiction#fanfictions#cod ghost#ghost cod#cod ghost x reader#cod ghost x you#cod ghost fanfic#ghost call of duty#ghost simon riley#simon riley
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
More Stats! More Stats!
Today we have some slightly different stats! The Top 10, Bottom 10, & Apocalypse AU entries as of yesterday afternoon.
My criteria were simple: straight up likes. If there was a tie then I’d go to reblogs to break the tie. However, there were no ties in the top 10. What I’ve learned over the past few months is if an entry is going to take off, it’s going to do it within the first 24 hours of being posted. So it’s not like I was necessarily being unfair to entries posted more recently. I’ll get a like or reblog here or there, but generally if an entry is going to succeed (whatever that means) it’ll do it relatively quickly.
The Top 10 JFW Entries (literally no one will be shocked by these results):
Felix Doting Boyfriend Y/N - posted January 26 - 136 likes
Yunho Best Man / Maid of Honor Y/N - posted January 24 - 76 likes
Ateez OT8 Valentine’s Day Y/N - posted February 14 - 63 likes
Wooyoung Next Door Neighbor Y/N - posted February 20 - 48 likes
Yunho Best Man / Maid of Honor Y/N pt 2 - posted February 1 - 43 likes
Yunho Royalty Y/N - posted March 7 - 42 likes
Yungi Youth - posted January 17 - 35 likes (the only M/M pairing to make the top 10)
Hyunjae Strangers at the Club Y/N - posted January 29 - 34 likes
Felix Doting Boyfriend Y/N pt 2 - posted February 5 - 32 likes (over 100 likes less than the first installment)
Juyeon / Aeri Hookup - posted April 24 - 25 likes
Most Popular Apocalypse AU Entry:
Part 4 - not coincidentally the only NSFW entry thus far
Least Popular Apocalypse AU Entry:
Parts 5, 7, 10, & 12 were all tied with only 2 likes & no reblogs. Part 5 is the official worst performer as it has the earliest posting date of the 4.
I also thought it would only be fair to include the bottom 10 entries as well. There were 23 entries tied with only 2 likes and even after weeding out for reblogs there were still 20 entries with 2 likes. I opted for oldest to newest to round out the bottom 10 and nothing that was bonus content for other works.
The Bottom 10 JFW Entries (read: go give these babies some love if you haven’t already):
Namgi Mirrors on the Ceiling - posted January 11 (my birthday you ungrateful heathens) - 0 likes
Jumil Oops Wrong Person - posted January 2 - 1 like (0 reblogs)
Chanlix FWB - posted January 4 - 1 like (0 reblogs)
Juric Just Talk to Me - posted January 7 - 1 like (2 reblogs)
Taegi Caught on Kiss Cam - posted January 8 - 2 likes (I’ll be honest, I wasn’t happy with how this one turned out. It was way better in my head)
SOPE Depression - posted January 25 - 2 likes (this one touches on a heavy subject so I’m not surprised it didn’t do well)
Bbangju Hooking Up with a World Famous Idol - posted February 11 - 2 likes (I thought Chanhee & Changmin were pretty funny here)
JiHope Hobi’s Birthday - posted February 17 - 2 likes (I admit this one was a bit disappointing because it had the potential for a great smutty entry but I didn’t have the energy at the time)
Yeonbin / Female OC - posted February 26 - 2 likes (This only bolsters my belief that female OCs are not a good bet if you want something to do well)
Eric & Jongho Grief - posted March 10 - 2 likes (This one also touches on a heavy subject so I’m also not surprised it didn’t do well)
Honorable Mention:
Sunwoo x Yeji / Yeji x Belle - posted May 10 - 2 likes at the time of this writing. (I’m guessing the F/F pairing was not a good choice. Sorry y’all)
I can’t say I necessarily learned anything new from these results, but more had things I already knew / suspected confirmed:
NSFW is more popular than SFW
Hotteoks (Yunho stans) are collectively the thirstiest, but Pixies (Felix stans) show up in larger numbers
Female OCs or F/F pairings are literary suicide
Y/N will always bring in readers
Sequels / continuations never do as well as the first entry / installment
But Emily I want more of (pairing / scenario / activity) that isn’t popular! Help!
Send in a request! You can either use the AMA function or DM me. There’s very few things I won’t write. I will get around to the Sunwoo / Wonyoung pt 2 that was requested multiple times, but it’s behind several other things in my mental queue right now.
Also don’t be a lurker! Like, reblog, comment, interact! I’m far more likely to prioritize requests from people who regularly interact with me. The AMA defaults to anon, but you can turn it off. Both @m-is-mickey & @theboredsquirrel can attest I don’t bite (and also will recognize you every chance I get because I love my interactive readers 💕).
Thank you to everyone who takes time out of their day to read my silly little stories. I hope it brings joy to your day whatever that day’s entry is. There are 234 days left in 2024 & here’s hoping I’ll get something for at least 100 of them 🤞🏻
#just fucking write 2k24#minors dni#the boyz fanfic#ateez fanfic#stray kids fanfic#bts fanfic#y/n fanfic#statistics#txt fanfic
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
20 Questions for Fic Writers
tagged by @steddieas-shegoes like, forever ago and I keep forgetting.
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 42! most are steddie with some criminal minds fics from over ten years ago buried deep.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 252,271
3. What fandoms do you write for? right now, just stranger things! I've been toying around with writing destiel again but if I did, it'd be anonymous. (after my entire portfolio was wiped from livejournal, I'm still in pain about it.)
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. and if I get burned, at least we were electrified. 2. i made this mess with love. 3. what you feel is what you are (and what you are is beautiful) 4. the answers are all inside of this. 5. Livin' On A Prayer
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yes! eventually! sometimes, it'll take me awhile because I just get backed up but I read them and smile and kick my feet, and even though it takes me a bit to reply, those comments are what keep me writing. <3
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? happy endings are guaranteed in this house, always. I'll never write an angsty ending-- canon hurts me enough. the most bittersweet ending though would have to be scar-crossed lovers.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? oooo, that's tough because they're all happy endings! but I think over the hills and far away because, by virtue of it being a long fic, the happy ending feels deserved. those two went through it to get to that ending which made it so satisfying to write!
8. Do you get hate on fics? I haven't, no, and I'm very grateful for that. but I'm also like, super liberal with the block function. we cultivate our spaces here, friends!
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do, but only in the context of like, what else is happening in the fic. I just can't write pwp lmao, major kudos to everyone else who does it so well! I'm in awe of your talent perpetually.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I wrote a supernatural/charmed crossover au many, many years ago. but recently? kicks cracky supernatural/stranger things crossover au scrivener wip under the couch. nope.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not in this fandom!
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? not that I know of, but that'd be super cool.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? not yet... but I have some plans. keep an eye out next year. 👀
14. What’s your all time favorite ship? steddie broke something in my brain, but destiel laid the path for it be broken to start with.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? liturgies & devotionals, unfortunately. or at least in its current existence in scrivener? it's a big undertaking but if I can make it less complicated, maybe it stands a chance.
16. What are your writing strengths? not once have I been able to answer this and feel comfortable with it, but I do really enjoy the omniscent third person point of view and have gotten compliments on it. and narrative writing, I like setting the scene and developing introspection.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? there are several but god, fucking dialogue! it's my kryptonite. that, and actually ending a story. context disease is so real.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? the only other language I've ever used is a snippet of Klingon, but I'd also feel comfortable using bits of French because I know a good bit of French. anything else would just feel super inauthentic because idk what the fuck I'm saying.
19. First fandom you wrote for? uh, it was around 2001 and it was for a fandom that I no longer associate with.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written? to the surprise of no one: over the hills and far away <333 so much of me is in that fic and it was hugely healing.
no pressure tags: @withacapitalp @stevethehairington @steves-strapcollection @henderdads @patchworkgargoyle @inairbinad @steddieasitgoes @starrystevie @judasofsuburbia @fragilecapric0rnn @kkpwnall @fastcardotmp3 @penny00dreadful @cranberrymoons @catknives @hbyrde36 @cuoredimuschio @wormdebut @wynnyfryd @sidekick-hero @t-boyeddie @scarcrossdlvrs + anyone else who hasn't been tagged and wants to participate!
21 notes
·
View notes
Note
okay okay I'm back with more self indulgent poly coffee au. Last time I said Lucifer fixed up the piano, and there's definitely another scene idea there, but I'm so excited about the Horror night one that I'm skipping the piano scene aksjdj. I even re-read the horror movie night devilgrams for research. Yeahhh, research,,,,(that one line from Mammon where he comments on MC's scared face lives rent free in my head). But I learned Mammon would have nightmares, and Solomon gets really into the plot.
okay so I think it'd be nice if the three of us meet on Wednesdays before I head to the record shop. Solomon brings his homework, but never gets much done, too happy to talk to us instead. Wednesday is the only day I wake up super early, all because I'm looking forward to hanging out for longer with the two of them. It gets me out of bed, but I have shown up looking groggy as hell some days. Record shop is open 11-7:30 Monday through Friday? And 11-9 on Saturday, but closed Sunday. The only reason it closes early is because I take the bus, and that's not something that's fun taking at night. Saturday night I stay at the shop (thinking of a mini storage/break room upstairs where I've set up a sleeping bag). Coffee shop I think is also closed Sunday, but Mon-Friday it's 7-3:30, with Saturday being 7-12 so he can get errands done. And then Sol has classes Mon/Tues/Thurs/Fri.
OKAY ANYWAY, WORLD BUILDING ASIDE, the three of us meeting on our usual Wednesday, and Solomon mentions this movie he wants to see. He says he has extra tickets because the people he planned on asking can't make it, it's a midnight showing on Friday. Says he understands if we can't since we both need to get up early the next day, but wanted to ask. I agree because I think it'd be nice to hang out outside of the coffee shop, and Mammon says he's not one to turn down a free outing. He can run on little sleep anyway, he's got espresso to help.
The three of us trying to figure out the logistics, Solomon saying he'll even pay for rides there and back home if needed. Mammon blurts out "Why don't y'all sleep over after?" and we both turn to look at him. He freezes and turns red, but he's already said it, he can't turn back now. "What? I-I got a car, I'll pick the two of you up, and y'all can stay at my place. T-That way, it's not too far from your shop, and your apartment, right?" "I could walk home from here, I wouldn't want to intrude-" "Yeah, I don't mind taking an uber-" "Walking at night can be dangerous, don't you know!? And you! Getting into a strangers car so late is even worse! I'll drive you both home if that's what ya want, but I don't mind having you two over." Solomon is fighting the urge to make a comment about it being like a date. I'm just happy to not have to wake up as early.
"Yo, why'd you want to go to the midnight showing anyway? Are ya that excited to see it?" "Haha, that's not the main reason. It's a horror movie! A midnight showing would be the most immersive." Cue me and Mammon freezing, giving each other terrified looks. Oh man.
Leading up to the outing date, Mammon and I are researching like crazy, only to find out it's the premiere. So there's no spoilers or ways to prepare. We're going in blind. I'm not one to watch many horror movies, the closest things being Saw, Final Destination (both of which I love), and I think a movie series called Paranormal Activity or something. But I always looked away during scary scenes during that. Yet I'm too stubborn to turn it off because I need to know the ending.
Friday comes, Mammon closes up and tries to take a nap to calm his nerves after stress cleaning to get everything neat for the sleepover. And no one planned it, but everyone has dressed up a little nicer than usual. Mammon's got a lucky watch that was gifted from Lucifer, and an open button up with the sleeves rolled up.
He gets in his car to go pick up Solomon, his heart hammering in his chest because Solomon is wearing a nice button up and maybe a sweater? And wearing cologne?? Please help Mammon, he is panicking, trying to reign it in as Solomon puts his overnight bag in the trunk. His voice cracks as he greets Solomon, and immediately begins driving to pick me up, turning up the music as a distraction.
Not sure what I'd wear, but I've got extra jewelry on because it makes me feel cool. Maybe a mesh shirt and a cardigan?? But I wear perfume, and I'm nervous without any clue why. I've got my wallet and my duffel bag, and snort when Solomon jumps out and opens the passenger door like a gentleman before climbing into the backseat. The drive is slightly tense, all of us nervous until I spot a car with a difference state plate. My friend introduced me to this game, and I instinctively bump Mammon's arm and call out the state, which breaks the tense atmosphere. The three of us fall into comfortable conversation until we reach the movie theater.
okay there's a really funny idea I have for the next part that happens during the actual movie. Solomon is going to be living his best life very soon OKAY BYEEE
- ✨ anon
AHHHH I wanna know about Solomon living his best life!! Lemme guess, he's sitting between you two and something especially scary happens so you're both clinging to him out of fear?!? LOL!
Oh man, both of you guys not liking horror is so cute! I totally get it, I'm not a horror fan at all. I can't watch horror movies because I get so freaked out, I can't sleep for months. Books seem to be no problem, but movies for some reason I can't handle lol.
ANYWAY I also love how Mammon is coming up with reasons why you should both sleep over, that is so sweet - of course he's getting all overprotective! Walking at night! Getting into a stranger's car!! You're gonna give him a conniption!
And ohh Solomon being the gentleman and opening the door for you, that's adorable, too!!
As always, I will be pleased to know what happens next, but of course no pressure & no rush! I'm just enjoying this cute lil love story~
#like I'm on the solomams train but also with your MC because they're all so cute together#obey me#obey me solomon#obey me mammon#✨ anon#misc answers
15 notes
·
View notes