#if you ever wonder why i have a hard on for an assassin au

[scary-lasagna]

HEYY! Wondering if you do everymanhybrid and if so could you write a HABIT x reader headcannons? Relationship in general I don’t have specifics in mind

I might have mentioned him in passing before, but I'll definitely write something about him for his place in my AU, it's a bit ooc from EMH but it's very interesting.

HABIT

Habit is...not mentally stable in the slightest.

The only time he would fall in love is if it either a.) benefited him or b.) you were smokin' hot and he obsesses over you

And be prepared to hear him mull and complain over both Slender and Zalgo, both who equally piss him off but he's forced to be nice to one of the two.

But when Habit falls, he will fall hard. You will sit on a royal pedestal, and HABIT your knight in shining armor. There would be nothing he is against doing for you.

He grovels at your feet, swearing to always protect you, to keep you fed, to keep you safe and warm, to-

“I KNOW you only asked for Kirspy Kreme, but darling my point still stands.” And he pulls his unsettling, ear-to-ear grin out of his back pocket to plaster on his face.

But all-in-all he’s your little guard dog.

Most of his working hours are spent obsessing over Slender’s history and origins, striving to find any bit of information that will lead to his downfall.

The rest of his work day is spent over tea with Zalgo, not that he ever drinks any, he’s really just there for the lemon squares and latest celebrity news that haven’t hit the 6 o clock channels yet.

After all, Zalgo has close ties to all of the higher ups. He always has the best gossip.

He might shove some pastries in his pockets for you if anything looks of your taste, but they’re usually melted or crumbled by the time he gets home. Usually he licks the remains out of his pocket (gross).

There’s also a room in your shared space that you are never allowed to go in, two if you’re counting the closet.

A room filled to the brim with ancient texts, books, artifacts, and knives hold a red herring for a closet in that same room filled with many different types of guns, weapons, cursed artifacts, and a haunted McDonalds coupon from 2008.

HABIT and Evan function similarly to Liu and Sully, however HABIT has the upper hand in the body. It’s a once in a blue moon occurrence that Evan will peek through and attempt to escape the house and/or try to kill you, thinking you kidnapped him.

Freaked the hell out of you the first time it happened before HABIT managed to grab hold of the reigns.

Safe to say, Evan was properly dealt with that night in the dimension of HABITs brain, being held in a void of endless whispering and torment while you sat with HABIT, watching Twilight just to make fun of it.

He’s also kind of…not the brightest. He always has the right idea, but never quite sure how to execute it properly. This is the explanation of the many failed assassination attempts toward Slender and his brothers.

He has been sucker punched more times than he can count by 3/4 of them. Splendor just talks him down with a therapy session and it works in more ways than one.

But this also applies to relationships. You want roses? He gets you daisies because they look better, even though you specified roses.

A fancy restaurant date? Takes you on a cruise. You didn’t want or pack for a cruise. Neither did he. Don’t ask where he got the money.

Right idea, wrong execution.

He’s also extremely clingy, even though it’s been implied, but he will quite literally hover around you, waiting to be acknowledged or asked to do something for you, because if he’s not working, he doesn’t have anything else worth tending to except for you.

You’ve once asked for alone time and he quite literally sat in the floor of the kitchen and twiddled his toes until you got peckish for a snack and stumbled on him.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“I was waiting for you to ask me to get you a cookie.”

[memoiresofaneternaldreamer]

Omertà

Assassin! Park Seonghwa x Mafia Heiress! Reader.

Themes: Smut | AU | PWP | Enemies to Lovers | Explicit sexual acts | Use of Italian Petnames (this deserves a separate warning in itself) | PIV | Unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it kids!) | Desperate sex | Fluff - Angst?

Word Count: 1.9K

Playlist: 'See You Bleed' - Ramsey | 'Two Shots' - Cross My Heart Hope to Die | 'In The Blood' - Red Rosamond | 'Scorpio' - Pour Vous

Part of the 'ATEEZ as Dark Tropes' series.

This story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors do not interact.

"I wonder which will get you killed faster -- Your loyalty or your stubbornness?" Seonghwa whispers. His hot breath cascades over your neck while his lips lightly graze the shell of your ear. He has firmly planted himself into your personal space, with his chest flush against your back and his left hand gripping your jaw. 

Any regular person would have seen his words for what they were, a threat, and used them as fuel to run for their life. Or perhaps they would drop down to their knees and beg him, or any Deity they believed in, for mercy.

But you weren’t any regular person. 

His words, nor presence instilled any of its' intended fear into you. That is not what you were trained for. That is not the reaction your body had to him.

“Why don’t we find out?” You retaliate, the ghost of a smirk taking over your features. The challenge in your voice so prominent he cannot help but release a humourless chuckle. 

“Oh Carissima, when I am done with you, you know they will want to kill us both.” He answers. You snort at that, he wasn’t wrong. 

As tragic as the tale of Romeo and Juliet had been, the tale of the Angelinis and Barbieris was much worse.

Two brothers, not by blood but by bond, were once as thick as thieves. They ruled the Underworld side by side and were revered by many. Until one backstabbing and one double-crossing made them sworn enemies. As a result, the Angelinis vowed that no Barbieri would ever rule the Underworld again. And the Barbieris, in turn, vowed to take out each and every living Angelini.

It was a feud that lasted for many years and led to many tragic casualties on both sides. A mutual hatred which should have manifested into the only living heirs of both men.

While your father, Gabriele Angelini, had trained you to become the perfect heiress to the throne, Davide Barbieri, Seonghwa’s mentor turned adoptive father, had trained him to become the perfect killing machine.

Both offspring destined to fulfil the vows their fathers had made, and both offspring as lethal as the other.

But faith had other plans.

Before you can formulate a clever retort, he spins you around and shoves you backwards. The sudden movement catches you off guard, the breath you did not know you were holding bursting from your lips as your back bounces on the mattress. His gaze zeroes in on yours, and you recognize the dark look hidden behind them. Lust. Pure, unadulterated, dirty, forbidden lust. But also something else. Another emotion, much more terrifying. 

Because as your fathers before you, you should hate each other. He should want to kill you, and you should want to ruin him. But you don't. You can't. Not when he is the air you breathe, and you are the light that guides him. And it is with that thought that you understand what it is. Love. 

No words are spoken as you both hurriedly undress, the building tension between you stifling in the air. You both know there is no time for slow kisses or soft touches. Not now. Not when Davide had just formally declared the hit on your life, and every assassin - including Seonghwa - was ordered to hunt you down and eliminate you.  

As you open up the buttons of your blouse and unzip your skirt, he drops the leather jacket off his shoulders and unbuckles his belt. Every layer he sheds reveals more of his flawless skin, sculpted muscles and delicious hardness, and you cannot help but bite your lower lip at the sight. Somewhere in the depths of your mind, you wonder if this will be the last time you see him like this. As you slide your already soaked-through panties over your legs, the minimal light coming in from the window catches onto your glistening folds. 

Seonghwa's eyes capture the sight, and his hand - that had just removed his underwear - grips his uncovered hardness. "Fuck, Cara, you're already soaking wet for me." He groans. "I am." You agree. "What are you going to do about it?" You taunt, while you open your legs to give him an unobstructed view of your cunt. 

He is on you in an instant, his hand grabbing onto your ankle and pulling you closer towards him. Wordlessly he drops to his knees on the bed and lifts your other foot, allowing your legs to frame his hips. From this kneeling position, he can see your arousal in its' entirety. He swipes two fingers over your folds as a reply, before he plunges them deep into your hole. 

The sudden but welcome intrusion of his digits within your walls makes you gasp. "Fuck, Hwa. Amore, please." You mutter, as you feel them curling up into your sensitive spot. "What is it, Cara? Hmm?" He cannot help but taunt back. His eyes take in your beautiful face and he thinks to himself that he would give you anything you asked for in this moment. Hell, he'd give you the world even. And even though he loved Davide like a son loves his father, he loved you so much more. And he'd gladly see the Barbieri empire burn before he hurt a hair on your head.

"More, I need more." You relent, grabbing onto his wrist as he pulls his digits from your cunt. "I want to feel you inside me. I want you." You continue, the desperation to be devoured by him and the danger you know that faces you once you leave his safety slowly consuming you.

Seonghwa understands this though, as he too feels much too overcome already. He's not ready to lose you. He doesn't think he ever will be. So he tells you just that. "You have me Carissima, all of me. Now and forever after." He chokes out, as he enters you in one swift thrust.

The simultaneous moans you let out fill the otherwise quiet room. Seonghwa drops his weight forward, one hand on either side of your head, while you spread your legs to accommodate the width of his body. The pace he sets is unforgiving, the quick snaps of his hips into you making you quiver. Your tits jiggle with the movement and Seonghwa leans down to envelop one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the stiff nub. 

"Oh fuck..." You curse, your hand reaches the back of his neck to grip at the roots. The sensation of his lips on your skin coupled with his sharp thrusts is almost too much to handle. And yet, it's somehow not enough still. You rotate your hips, desperate for more friction but too out of it to utter the words. But Seonghwa understands. He always does. Latching his mouth onto your other nipple, he glides his hand towards your clit. 

The first roll of his thumb over your sensitive nub is almost enough to make you cry. "Oh Dio.... Yes, just like that."  you whimper, every nerve ending being lit on fire by his ministrations. Seonghwa releases your - now swollen - nipple from his mouth in favour of taking in your blissed-out expression, all the while never letting up his movements. Your hooded eyes, glistening lips and the little drop of drool rolling over your cheek make him groan. 

The desire to plant his lips on yours and lick the drool from your mouth overwhelms him. Even though, when you two had started this "arrangement" years ago, there were two rules he promised you he'd never break.

No kissing. Kissing makes it too personal.

Never say the words "I love you." Saying them turns this into a weakness. And a weakness can be used to kill you.

But suddenly, Seonghwa couldn't care less about these rules. He loves you, more than he has loved anything else before. And Davide has set out to kill you anyway, even without any knowledge of your relationship. If you are going to die - and he in turn as well - he wants to etch your taste into his mind before you both release your final breath. 

"Cara, please. Please let me kiss you." He pleads, his face mere inches from yours while his hand grabs ahold of your jaw. The despair in his tone pulls at your heartstrings, and you know. You know what he wants to say, but doesn't. So you silently nod your head. Tightening his hold on you, he cranes your neck backwards and uses it to finally fuse his lips to yours. 

The kiss is all-consuming; warm, demanding, passionate, ferocious, but at the same time full of love, devotion and tenderness. You feel it everywhere. In the way he grips your jaw, in the fierceness of his hips slamming between your thighs, he's claiming you as his. And you let it happen. Because for someone who's craved control all her life, giving it to him so easily has never felt more right. 

So in that moment, you decide to break the second rule and tear your mouth from his.

"Te amo, Vita Mia." You whisper. Once the words register in his ears, Seonghwa stills his movements. Thankfully, you don't have to wait too long for his reply. "Mio Tesoro, I love you so much." He replies, full of conviction. 

Your words seem to open some invisible floodgate because he is on you again. Tilting his head as he deepens the kiss, it's a flurry of teeth clicking, tongues tangling, and lips smacking. His hips continue their assault on your insides, increasing the brutal force of his thrusts while his thumb stays pressed against your sensitive clit. When Seonghwa suddenly lifts one of your legs until it is resting on his shoulder, you feel him even deeper than before. And it's all too much. 

Fisting the sheets beside your head you cannot stop the scorching heat from coursing through your veins. Your body is on fire, so close to combustion you can almost taste your release. Seonghwa is not far behind. The pulsing of his cock within your walls becomes more prominent with each push. "Come with me Amore, give it to me. Fill me up." You manage to choke out before you tumble over that invisible ledge. 

"Fuck. Yes, Yes, yes. Just like that." He encourages, as he feels your pleasure overflowing within you. He's following right behind you with his own release. One, two, three thrusts and he's spilling inside you, your name rolling off his lips like a mantra, his seed filling you up. 

Seonghwa collapses on top of you, utterly spent, and he chuckles as you wrap your arms and legs around his body like a vice, trapping him to you. No other words need to be said, the softness of your touches and the look in his eyes convey everything you need to know. You stay like this for what feels like an eternity. Wrapped up in each other's warmth, lost in your own little universe. You think you can actually fall asleep like this, with his weight on you and his softening member still inside you. As Seonghwa lays his head on your chest you figure he's coming to the same conclusion. So you close your eyes and let the comfort slowly pull you under.

And then a shot rings out.

A/N: Little brain rot of mine because I've had this moodboard I created just sitting in my drafts forever, and I finally decided to do something with it. (It may also be because of all the concert content floating around). Definitely not proofread. Hope you all enjoy!

Send me your hard/soft thoughts - feedback/fangirling is always welcome. Want to be added to my taglist? Let me know!

[For the Moodboard: credits to the owners of these pictures, I do not own any of them. All pictures are exclusively found on Pinterest. Please do not use without giving credit and do not delete the caption. Do not copy and repost to other sites.]

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

Sometimes I'm having a good day then I randomly have flashbacks to posts I've seen on tumblr. Mostly of; cat animagus regulus, regulus replacing peter, regulus and sirius being best friends, dramatic sirius, James being all people pleasing and not arrogant at all (save me arrogant rich boy James oml), remus being a jerk for no reason and being borderline toxic for sirius and I'm not okay any longer. But I cant express that to anyone at school cuz they'll just be like who tf are u talking abt????

!!!!!!!!

i love aus i love reconciliation i love wondering how things could be different or how x character would fit into a narrative but some things are just !! incorrect !! regulus isnt an animagus!! its very fucking hard to become one!! he is NEVER described as intelligent!! quite the opposite!! also, he isnt crookshanks!! he's fucking dead!! he committed suicide!! it's literally one of the three things he canonically did!! stop taking that away!!

regulus could never ever replace peter!! he would never fit into the dynamic the marauders have!! he's also a fucking nazi and remus is equivalent of a jew!! sirius would've hated having him there!!

why? because regulus was a major part of why he wanted to leave leave leave his house!! he was suffocated at number twelve!! constantly compared to his picture perfect brother!! his brother, who was a soft idiot!! who was naive and gullible!! who was the opposite of sirius in everyway!! it was never ever sirius and regulus - it was sirius or regulus!! sirius vs regulus!! they likely had a very complicated relationships!! its very very possible they hated each other!! "i have a brother i could never hate him 😖 i understand sirius, im sure they loved each other <3" unless you grew up in the 70s in a very very uptight house with a mother who was clinically insane and an absent father, both of which supported ethnic cleansing and genocide of a race you live amongst, and your younger brother, who you've likely considered your closest in that torture chamber, ends up going further than your fucked up parents by joining in the ethnic cleansing, by being obsessed with fucking hitler, by fighting against you in war, all while being praised for doing so while you're abused for not wanting to kill innocent men, women and children until you runaway as a teenager to go to the house of someone you've only known for five years because of how horrid it is, i dont think you understand!!

and sirius is called dramatic!! sirius black!! who was in solitary confinement for twelve years, charged for being the very thing he did so so much to be the opposite of, charged for murder of his sanctuary, of his best friends, of his godson, of twelve innocent bystanders, betrayed by one of his closest friends, who was homeless for over an year, who was trapped again in a prison of his old home, constantly exposed to triggering stimuli like his fucking mother!!!!!!! and being made comments about which he deals with so very maturely!! he is dramatic!! despite the fact that he barely, if ever, brought it up!! and if he did, then only to his godson!! his last remaining person!! good god, he suffered so much and he's never, ever allowed to complain!!

and james!! god!! what do we know about him? that he had a massive ego!! a massive heart, yes, but he was proud!! stop with the perspective that one has to sacrifice themself to be good!! i know most people here are teenage girls, that we are taught that this is the only way to be, but it isnt!! especially not to a wealthy pureblood (=white) boy in the 70s!! he likely was incredibly selfish!!

remus, god remus, after sirius - this is the character assassination of the centaury. his entire character revolves around his cowardice!! how unlike a werewolf he is!! how he does everything possible to be the very opposite!! he ruins his life because of how he fears ruining other people!! but fanon remus - he's a fucking proud werewolf, i dont care what people say!! he's abusive, he's a sex-addict, druggie - he's an asshole!! he is literally fenrir greyback!! the man who ruined his life!! 'mr tell me a fucking secret' my ass!! and its just funny! its cute and wholesome and let's focus on how he suffered and how hot he is, when there's no evidence of most of these claims!! let's, instead, focus on how horrified remus would be at what he's portrayed as!! he's portrayed as the very thing he's tried to be the opposite of!! this is just one more example of sirius' trauma being put onto remus to make him some tragic hero, when that in itself is remus' tragedy!! that he died and left an orphan to a fucked up kid, that he had no friends and couldnt hold relationships, that he's forgettable despite standing out, that he's outshone despite being intelligent - it's just not as romanticizable as 'my dad hates me and i'm really hot and smoke cigarettes'

i just yapped so much because god its so annoying!! no one sees it!! "let people have fun" yes, but lets call bullshit out!! dont romanticize toxic relationships to young girls @ marauders fandom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[slytherinshua]

GAMBIT

genre. assassin/spy au. implied exes to lovers. lots of tension. warnings. illegal activity (robbery, heist, etc). kissing. open ending. pairing. jihoon x fem!reader. wc. 1.4k. request. no. a/n. finally a jihoon fic based off of gambit which i've wanted to write for so long istg. for hannie, i love you so much and happy birthday!!

Years of training and months of planning had finally led up to this moment. There you were, standing 2 feet away from the diamond you had been after for quite some time. The work you had put in to get to this moment had tested not only your physical skills, but your mental resilience. You had been forced to ignore distractions and keep your mind and eyes on your original prize throughout your mission. It all would have been a walk in the park— if only he hadn’t been teasing you this entire time.

Jihoon; your top rival, and possibly the only thing you wanted more than the diamond you finally beheld with your own eyes. He knew it just as well as you did, that you’d give almost anything to get another taste of his lips. He was the only thing with the power to distract you, to cloud your brain with thoughts of only him, to make you forget what your end goal was in the first place.

Even getting to the room where the jewel was stored had taken an extreme amount of effort. You disarmed and knocked out the gallery guards, hacked the security system to shut down the video surveillance, and figured out the many codes to get into the locked room. Now that you were finally face-to-face with something so precious— a gemstone that would secure your future, you foolishly let your guard down, entirely bewitched by its beauty for no more than 15 seconds.

And that was when you heard his voice.

“Taking out the guards was just a piece of cake for you, wasn’t it? Too bad they weren’t conscious long enough to remember your pretty face.” 

You sucked in a breath, goosebumps rising on your skin as you sorted through your options in your head. Either you could engage in the conversation with him, possibly risking getting caught due to time being wasted, or him stealing your precious diamond. Or you could try to knock him out and make a run for it. You didn’t like your chances on either option, nor did you trust yourself to be able to resist whatever Jihoon would offer you.

“That’s a pretty stone. Is this what you’ve been after all this time? No wonder you never accepted my invites.” 

You heard his footsteps creeping closer to you, the scent of leather and musk enveloping your senses, his sultry voice ringing in your ears. Don’t get distracted by him now. You turned around, flashing him a fake smile while your eyes threw daggers at him.

“Fancy seeing you here. Did you follow me in?” Your mouth felt dry as your eyes took in his appearance again. How long had it been? A year since you had seen his face? You had heard his voice many times in the past months. Little voice messages or notes left to you, making you ever-aware that he was still following you, probably watching your every move.

He smiled. You hated how trustworthy his smile was, how it made you want to believe every word he said. You knew firsthand that he was far from honest. He had a dozen tricks up his sleeve, and you didn’t have a second to spare to waste on any of them.

“The trail of unconscious bodies was hard to miss.”

“What do you want, Jihoon?” You asked harshly, getting impatient and on edge from the situation. He seemed eager to waste time, while you were quickly running out of it. You needed to get the diamond and get out, otherwise the entire mission would be for nothing.

He cooed, sympathy dripping from his mouth. Fake sympathy.

“Why so tense, darling? I thought we trusted each other more than this.” He continued to tease. With each word you became more and more distracted from your task. You didn’t even flinch as he moved closer and closer to the jewel, sitting atop its velvet cushion. He picked it up, leather gloves preventing any fingerprints that would otherwise be left behind on the precious stone. You could only watch in silence, a wave of admiration for the man washing over you, though you did not want to acknowledge it.

“It is a marvelous gem, isn’t it? Just like you.” He muttered, tracing each cut of the diamond, studying its smooth surface and sharp edges, the way it gleamed in the light, its worth in the billions.

Your breath caught in your throat as he stepped closer to you, gemstone still in his gloved hand. He held it out in front of your face, watching in amusement as your eyes, filled with want, fixed on the diamond. They flickered back to his face, the same look still present in them, and the right side of his lips lifted. 

To you, the gem and him were almost interchangeable. Both were too valuable for any amount of money anyone could possess, both were objects of your desire, and both were just slightly out of reach. You could never have both, but maybe you could get your hands on one of them.

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling his hand down slowly, keeping eye contact. He watched you like a cat watches its prey, waiting for a slip-up, waiting until you made your next move. His face never failed to provoke you, asking you silently why you weren’t just giving in. 

You know you want it. I’m within reach. Choose; me or the gemstone.

Maybe it was a moment of weakness, or maybe you had finally decided what truly was more valuable to you. All thoughts of the diamond fled your mind, replaced with only the man who stood before you. Maybe this was just another one of his tricks, another ploy to get you under his control. Or maybe he truly cared.

Finding out the consequences was a problem for your future self, though. Without another moment of hesitation, you clasped his jacket, and pulled him forward until you had what you wanted— his lips on yours.

Years later, the taste was still just as you remembered. Sweet alcohol and cherry dripping from the skin, soft and inviting. The cold leather of his glove against your cheek only encouraged you to push for more, to melt into him and let your guard down completely.

“You must be the cruelest woman I’ve ever known, leaving me without this for 2 years.” He whispered, lips still mere centimetres from yours.

You wished you could boast that you didn’t feel the same way, that there had been a day where you hadn’t thought of his lips as well, but it would be an obvious lie. So, instead, you didn’t say anything, trusting that he could deduce what you felt from your eyes, as always.

You wanted more than anything to get another taste, to make the kiss last for just a bit longer, but the distant sound of sirens alerted both of you. 

“I hope you included an escape route in this mission plan.” Jihoon commented, still clutching the diamond carefully in the palm of his hand. You grabbed his wrist, dashing towards the fire escape which you had previously located as the safest way out of the building. You had made sure to install an additional ladder on the side of the building, much more hidden than the built-in escape stairs.

You ushered Jihoon down first, following closely behind him until you both reached the ground. Pulling your black mask up to cover your face, you gave a quick nod back to Jihoon, both of you making your way back to the getaway vehicle.

At ease had never been words you could attribute to yourself, but it was exactly what you felt when you took your seat beside Jihoon as he ordered one of his partners to drive back to his base. With the diamond grasped in one hand and Jihoon’s thigh under the other, you finally had the two things you had desired most, if only for a temporary moment.

You had underestimated Jihoon’s skills. His gambit had worked flawlessly on you, and now he had you exactly where he wanted. You did not know what to expect once you reached his quarters.

Could you really believe that he had forgotten all past betrayals and was going to be hospitable to you? Welcoming you into his home again as if you hadn’t been the very person to stab him in the back years ago? You could only assume that whatever was waiting for you probably resembled a cold prison cell more than a warm bed for you to rest.

But, strangely, you were at peace with the decision you had made. Whatever awaited you behind those extravagant doors to his mansion, you had chosen it willingly over the jewel. There was no one to blame but your own foolish mind.

↳ misc taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,,

@seunghancore,, @emmylksblog,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @chenleszone,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows

[yoonia]

the bedroom hymns ● chapter iii

⟶ Chapter summary | After your father announced his decision to send you away, the surprises don’t end there. But fate seems to be on your side this time, however, as the moment you set your mind to follow your father’s will, fate gives you its signs to show you that there is something more waiting for you at the other end.

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ��� Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale retelling au ⟶ Word count | 5,5k words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; nothing much for this chapter, may contain classism, threats of assassination, fantasy typical violence, usage of dark magic, a dream sequence ⟶ Story Masterlist | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi

chapter iii. dreamers

Last night, right the moment Yijeong saw you for the first time and had his curiosity drawn to you, the first thing that he thought of doing was to go straight back to Yoongi the first chance he could get and tell him everything that he was seeing—or, in this case, who he was seeing.

Once he shared his story and finally managed to voice out all the thoughts and doubts that came running through his head the whole night, he felt relieved. Seeing that Yoongi wasn’t making fun of him or dismissing his discovery, Yijeong also felt validated.

But the feeling didn’t last long.

Because Yoongi has become restless ever since. After hearing what Yijeong had to say, Yoongi rose from his seat and has been pacing back and forth since. His reaction is making Yijeong feels bothered. He begins worrying for Yoongi, and wondering if he should have found out more about you before sharing this information with his close friend.

“There was another man who joined us drinking last night, Hadi’s old friend. He’s the shopkeeper working for the town’s blacksmith in the southwest side of town, known as San,” Yijeong adds when Yoongi still hasn’t said anything after a moment has passed. Hearing this though, Yoongi immediately stops to listen. “I saw him chasing after her before she left the pub and they briefly talked. He was the one who spoke to her the most, so maybe he can tell you more about her.”

The entire time Yoongi is listening to Yijeong speak, he has his eyebrows furrowed, a sign that his mind is still working hard to comprehend all of this new information. He slips his hand into his pocket afterwards, reaching to find something that he can hold onto while he tries to gain back his composure.  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Yoongi says, almost absentmindedly. He then turns away, making his way to his writing desk without giving Yijeong another look when he dismisses him. “You should probably go back to your tent. We don’t want the other men wondering if something is going on after I called you in.”

The couch creaks as Yijeong pushes himself up, readying himself to leave. But he doesn’t step out before sharing his one last thought. “How much longer are you going to keep this disguise?” he suddenly asks Yoongi. He has been questioning the same thing for the past week, but never once had he gotten any reaction or answer from the other. “You know that you’re not supposed to be away for a long time. Not this long. Isn’t that why you couldn’t leave camp once the sun is out? I assume that you are slowly losing control of your mana flow and being out in the open at night would have made it worse.”

“I’m doing fine,” Yoongi snaps, though he quickly stops and calms himself down with a sigh. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’m not done here,” he says again once he is calmer. He tightens his grip on the object hidden inside his pocket, as if he is in desperate need for clarity as he whispers, “Not yet.”

Shaking his head, Yijeong shows displeasure to the answer given to him. “It wouldn’t hurt just to return home for a while to recover while you have the chance to. I’m sure your mother would love to see you back home again.”

“Would she?” Yoongi asks with a bitter chuckle, not even turning around to look at his friend when he says all of this. “I highly doubt it.”

“Well, you never know,” he hears Yijeong says. “If you really do want to keep this disguise longer, you need to get at least somewhere close to home, get your mana under control before you can carry on with whatever it is you’ve been doing out here in the human realm. Just think about it. I’m talking as a friend who have known you since we were kids to know when you’re the weakest, not as your subordinate who only sees you as a regular Captain of a rebel army.”

“Yijeong,” Yoongi suddenly turns and calls him out just as Yijeong is making his exit. Still with his hand hidden in his pocket, Yoongi stares at him deeply, saying, “Find out more about this lone traveller. Ask around and maybe pay this guy, San, a quick visit before the end of the day. And try to see if you can find other locals who might have seen her too while you’re out there.”

Yijeong grits his teeth and holds back from calling him out on his lack of response to his suggestion. “Is that all?”

“That is all.”

Noticing how Yoongi has chosen to disregard his advice about going home to recover his mana control, Yijeong can only exhale a deep sigh. “Got it,” he bitterly says, before bowing his head to mock a salute at Yoongi, “Captain.”

Once he is left all alone in his tent, Yoongi pulls out his hand, retrieving the amulet necklace that he has been holding tightly earlier to calm himself down. The amulet has been in his possession for as long as he can remember. A token that was handed to him when he went through the Culling, a stage that is much similar to what most humans go through when they reach adulthood. His coming of age. It is the most important part of his life when he finally reached his adult stage and gained his full powers.

It was said that the amulet would serve its owner by guiding them through life and to find what their soul truly need. Once Yoongi figured out what he was supposed to do, that he had something to find, he used his magic to activate the amulet to help lead him the way.  

For many years, the amulet had rarely ever shown him its true powers, only reacting to mana energies that were similar to his own, when he had been searching for another. It wasn’t until he started following all the traces and hints which had him landed here in Smotia, when the amulet finally started showing some reactions, letting him know that there were magic existed here, hidden among humans without them realising its presence.

It was the moment that Yoongi initially came so close to The Citadel when the black crystal in his amulet started glimmering for the first time, its magic began vibrating to let him know about the magic that was present there. Then last night, when he felt the burst of energy flowing from downtown, it had been his amulet which confirmed that what he felt had been real.

Not only had it been awakened by the energy’s movements, but the black crystal had given him its strongest reaction, as it kept glimmering and vibrating as if it was telling him that he was so close to finding what he had been looking for.

It had become the sign that he was so desperately waiting for to see. To finally confirm that somewhere here in Smotia, hidden behind all the magic and the spells that have been placed to conceal its secret, he would finally be able to retrieve what had been taken away from him a long time ago.

His missing soulmate.

“Where is he? Where is my father?”

On any normal day, when the sun is setting down at dusk, you would find your father sitting in his study room as he does his last minute work before dinner is to be served. That was what you had expected when you barged into the study room, ignoring the guards standing by the door who tried to stop you from forcing your way in.

Instead of your father, the only one sitting by the massive desk in the middle of the room, wearing a startled look on his face when he saw you rushing in was none other than Advisor Kim. Standing right beside him, looking just as startled as he watches you with his eyes widened in fear is your father’s loyal aide, Marc, who seemed to be in the middle of helping the advisor with his work.

“Your Highness?” Advisor Kim rises from his seat once he snaps out of his shock, inquiring you, “Is there something wrong?”

With a deep inhale of breath, you calm yourself down, which is quite taxing when you have just run across the palace to get here until you were near out of breath. “Where has my father gone? I need to talk to him,” you ask the advisor, who suddenly appears a bit too nervous to answer your question.

“I’m, well—forgive me, Your Highness. But His Majesty is currently unavailable,” he tries to explain. “His Majesty is out handling a few business matters.”

That makes you stop. “When? Where?” you question him, wondering how you could have missed it, seeing that you had never seen any sign of His Majesty leaving the palace the whole day.

It might not have been uncommon for the King to be away during the day when he has important matters to deal with, but that couldn’t have been the case today. Not with all the security issues and the news that you had just gotten earlier. And after spending a lot of time outdoors in the palace’s property for your extra lessons and errands, you know that you would have seen it if he was to leave The Citadel.

Be it as it may, from the day until dusk comes, his royal carriage remained to be parked at its intended spot, while the guards showed no signs of tending to His Majesty’s departure, something that would have been easy to notice even under normal circumstances before all of these issues started coming up.

Advisor Kim appears flustered for a moment to hear your question. “I’m afraid I don’t have the liberty to say—”

Gritting your teeth, you refuse to back down. There was a purpose for you to rush through the palace to get here, and you are not leaving until you get an answer. With or without your father being present to give it to you. “Then tell me this,” you say to Advisor Kim, keeping a firm gaze on his face as you walk closer to him, denying him a chance of slipping away from you and ignoring your question. “Is it true? Have we received war declarations from the enemy’s kingdom?”

Advisor Kim draws back. His face looks a bit pale when he hears you talking about the declaration of war that may or may not have come from the enemy. Deciding that he has no way to escape from this conversation, and that the information he is holding must remain confidential, Advisor Kim instructs the aide and the guards who had followed you to leave the two of you alone in the room.

The advisor waits until the aide slips out of the room at the very last, gently closing the door behind him in his exit. Only then does Advisor Kim begin to relax a little, even if you can see the distress appearing on his face when he is answering your question. “Nothing is confirmed yet, but our informants have sent us emergency warnings about the enemies getting ready to attack. However, they can’t do anything yet until at least one of us declare war publicly while stating our demands from the other. So far, nothing has yet to be heard, but we are preparing ourselves for it in case they really are ready to make a move.”

You take a sharp inhale of breath, right before asking him again, “And the direct threat against my father?”

You watch as his eyes grow wide, showing you how surprised he is that you would hear anything about the incident. You had suspected that your father and his advisors had deliberately been keeping everything from you. The look in Advisor Kim’s eyes and the way he grows visibly defeated now only confirms it for you.

“There had been…an attempt.”

Hearing this, it almost feels like the air is being forcefully pulled out of your chest, more so than earlier when you first heard the rumours about it.

An assassination attempt was said to have been done just a few nights ago, when the palace was infiltrated by unidentified warriors who managed to make their way into the King’s chamber. That was the news that were spread among the guards, and it was all being kept as a secret under His Majesty’s direct commands. If it wasn’t for the fact that you had kept your word to Nanny Abigail about taking more lessons out in the gardens today, you probably wouldn’t have gone passed the courtyard by dusk—which was around the time for the palace guards to be exchanging shifts—and heard them mentioning the incident in the middle of their briefing.

You came here with nothing but denial, hoping that it would not be true. As you are now standing here in the King’s study room, listening to Advisor Kim as he not only confirms the news, but is now also explaining to you all the details about what had happened, it feels as if your world is being tilted around its axis, and you are being forced to wake up from your blissful dream where life remains calm and peaceful within the palace.  

“Did my father get hurt? How about the culprit? Had any of them been apprehended?”

“The attempt failed because His Majesty managed to defend himself. Unfortunately, we had no witnesses from the incident aside from the guards who came in to assist His Majesty once they caught wind of the attack.” The way the advisor is telling you this, with a grim look on his face yet his eyes are glowing with pride, you can almost hear the words that he is not saying to you.

His Majesty King Aneas had slaughtered them all.

“But…do you have any suspects on who may have been the one behind it?”

“We don’t have any proof to help us in identifying the culprits, as the intruders had worn no markings or symbols that would have allowed us to track down where they were coming from,” Advisor Kim regretfully says. “We have been watching closely at the rebel army, observing their movements, as they were the last ones who were identified to make efforts to infiltrate the palace just before the incident. You may have seen them posing as the traveling mercenary soldiers who call themselves as the Brotherhood of Jorn. But aside from their sketchy movements around the capital, we are unable to tie them with the recent attack made to the King.”

The advisor stops for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Our only other suspect would be none other than our rival, Kosha Empire, seeing that despite all the rumours and prognosis that they might be launching an attack on us in the near future, their kingdom has been showing no movements and has kept themselves silent until the night His Majesty was attacked.”

While you are pleased to have gained enough detail from Advisor Kim, who is mostly known to be the more reserved one among the other advisors working for your father, all of this information is a bit too much for you to comprehend. With a nod, you slowly step away from him, needing some space to allow you to breathe some air, and perhaps clear your mind from all of this.

“I see…” you find yourself whispering, drawing a concerned look from the advisor.

“Your Highness, please understand. It was under His Majesty’s orders not to divulge to you anything regarding the situation,” Advisor Kim gently explains, thinking that you are disappointed or hurt for being kept in the dark about the dangers that the King has been facing. He is not entirely wrong, but those feelings have faded quite some time ago already. “The King—he didn’t want you to worry.”

“No, I understand,” you immediately say to him, even if it is partially a lie just to appease the poor advisor. You turn away and nod at the desk, where some papers that he seemed to have been studying when you barged in are spread. “I know that you still have matters to handle with while His Majesty is away. I should get out of your way, then.”

You leave behind Advisor Kim in the study room with an invisible weight on your shoulders and a painful pinch in your chest. It turns out that your suspicious were right, after all, that the situation has been way more dire than what they had all made you to believe.  

Now, you can finally understand about your father’s odd demeanour—the way he always seemed tense and how he would appear to be so lost in deep thoughts since before the royal dinner—and also why your father and his men had been so adamant in finding the perfect solution to keep the peace, to handle all the political tension without giving a chance for an unwanted war to erupt.

Deep down, you silently wish that you can do something, instead of simply wallowing in your thoughts like this. Perhaps you can help him find a better solution, or maybe even fight alongside him when the time comes. You know what you are capable of, and you know that you would be able to do both of these things for your father and the kingdom.

As the Crown Princess, you have learned not only all the knowledge that you would ever need to take the King’s place and rule a kingdom, but you have also learned how to wield a weapon. A few of them, in fact, as King Aneas himself has always believed that in order to keep yourself safe from harm, you would need to be able to defend yourself against any threat that may come your way.

But how would you be able to do anything to help, when your father had chosen to keep things from you, keeping you in the dark and choosing to send you away when the empire is having its major crisis. It makes you feel powerless, not knowing what you can offer when you are made to feel as if your movements are restricted with the King’s final decision of taking you away from the palace.

Throughout the day, you had continued to feel apprehensive about leaving. Now, it seems like you have no other choice but to follow your father’s will.

At least, for now. Until you can find a way to come back stronger, and ready to stand side by side with the King when the time comes.

Nearly three days have passed since the morning King Aneas dropped the news about your departure, and much to your surprise, you haven’t been able to see him again since.

Nobody knew where the King has gone to, except perhaps for the royal aide and senior advisors who would often work closely with His Majesty, yet they all kept their mouths shut. The only thing that they could ever tell you was to remain patient, while advising you to focus on your daily lessons until His Majesty’s return.

It wasn’t until earlier during dinner when you finally saw the King again. His Majesty has made it yet another private affair, allowing the two of you to speak alone without the presence of his acolytes. Seeing him at the dining room after days of his absence left you feeling completely dumbfounded, so much so that all the questions that came running through your head the entire time he was away simply evaporated.  

‘Are you hurt?’

‘Where have you gone to? Was it something serious?’

‘Is there anything else that you are hiding from me?’

You had wanted some answers, but the words just wouldn’t come out. And then you lost all the chance to speak when His Majesty questioned you first, “The carriage is ready, and I have prepared a team of guards to take you to the home castle tomorrow by dusk. Have you decided who you are going to choose to be your travel companion?”

Obviously, you had not gotten the chance to actually think about it, when your mind had been preoccupied with other matters. You may have surprised both the King and yourself when you told him, “Will it be okay if I ask Lady Abigail to accompany me on this trip?”

Despite being caught off guard with your choice, His Majesty had immediately agreed to your demands. He might even seem a bit relieved at your choice of companion, though it is heavily concealed by his astonishment. Then, later in the night, you quickly learn that your father hadn’t been the only one who was surprised at your decision.

“You could’ve chosen someone younger to join you on this trip. I’m afraid I won’t be as much help once I’m exhausted by the journey. You have three different lady-in-waiting to choose from who would’ve loved to accompany you,” Nanny Abigail comments once she arrives at your bedchamber after receiving the news. Yet, despite her grievance, she still lends out a hand to assist you when she sees that you are in the middle of packing your essentials for the trip.

“I couldn’t think of anyone else to ask,” you simply tell her with a shrug. “And I’ve sent all the lady-in-waiting who have been working with me back home to their families this afternoon.”

You aren’t lying when you say this. Earlier today, before you met your father, you had somehow decided to inform all the lady-in-waiting who have been assisting you during your lessons and royal duties to return back to their noble homes. With all the conflicts happening in The Citadel and your future absence, there would be no need for them to stay at the palace. Of course, you had kept all the recent incidents a secret from them, only letting them think that you had relieved them all from their duties simply because you had wanted to give them a short vacation so they could enjoy the Lemmus Rising events.

But there was another reason why you had decided to choose Nanny Abigail to come with you.  

Lady Abigail was once your mother’s closest friend and attendant ever since before you were born, and remained your mother’s most trusted person until the day she passed on. It was the reason why Lady Abigail became the one who was entrusted to foresee your education and royal training, and even to assist you in your daily duties before you acquired your own aides after your coming of age. So it wouldn’t be wrong for you to choose her, your personal guardian, to come with you on this journey. There was also your worries about the threats and the assassination attempt that you heard the other day. Knowing how dangerous it would be to remain at the palace, and that Lady Abigail has no family to come home to in Smotia, you figured that it would be best to have her come with you to make sure that she would be safe.

Something that you know for sure that your mother would have done if she was still here.

“Did you come here to try and change my mind about inviting you to join me in this trip?” you ask her teasingly once you are done packing your luggage.

“Not really. His Majesty was the one who sent me here,” she admits. “His Majesty requested that I make sure you are to rest early tonight.”

You raise your brows at this. “But the trip won’t be until tomorrow evening.”

Nanny Abigail nods. “Indeed, but you will need the strength for the long journey tomorrow, and to not have you risk getting into trouble or injured before you are to depart.”

There is something in her words that gets you thinking deeply. You have wondered if your father had somehow found out about your night escapades or if she had informed him about the night she found you slipping out into the night and went missing until dawn. But you had never gotten the chance to confirm it. “Are we talking about the other night? Did my father really told you this, or you’re just worried that I’ll go crazy and decide to jump out of the window and disappear again tonight?”

Nanny Abigail turns, giving you a grim smile. “It is His Majesty’s formal request, made under my personal advice,” she firmly says to you, without confirming anything. “Which I also think would make perfect sense. You are about to embark on a journey which is meant to send you towards a safe place where no harm can reach you. It would be foolish if you should get yourself sick or let alone injured before that can happen, wouldn’t you think?”

You cannot deny that there is some truth in her words. But it isn’t like you were planning to escape tonight to have a stroll while there are a lot of questionable things going on at the palace.

“How far is this journey going to be?” you ask her, turning the conversation around when you find no answer to respond to her with.

“I won’t be able to tell, to be honest. I’ve never traveled that far, let alone going anywhere across Elcester Forest.”

You look out the window just then. Even if you cannot get a good view of the Elcester Forest from here, you can still picture it through your memory—the widespread of dense trees that seems to never end when you look at it from above. You have always wondered what you might be able to find on the other side, and it still sounds surreal to imagine that you are finally going to have a chance to figure out the answer soon. “I never knew that there would be a place so far out there that would still be under the empire’s rein, or that my father would own a property hidden somewhere beyond the forest,” you mutter softly, almost as if you are wondering out loud.

You turn away from the window before Nanny Abigail can say anything, and you give her a smile as you promise her, “Fine, then. I’ll go to bed. You don’t have to watch over me tonight. I have no plans on touring the towns tonight, after all.”

Hearing this brings a smile to Nanny Abigail’s face, showing you that she really did worry about you slipping out in the night to have your little adventure. “I’ve requested a sleeping remedy from the healer to help you sleep better tonight. Make use of it if you have any trouble sleeping,” she says as she turns away to leave, but not before she playfully adds, “Or if you are suddenly overcome with any urge to step out.”

Once she is gone, you take a small portion of the remedy to help you sleep. Not because you are afraid of giving into the urge to leave like what Nanny Abigail suspected you would, but only because you are worried that your thoughts would be much too loud once you are left alone to prevent you from getting a good sleep. You cannot deny that you have been feeling anxious ever since you found out that you are leaving so soon, so you are hopeful that the remedy may help calm your nerves so you can rest.

It doesn’t take long for the remedy to take effect once you slip into bed. But while it manages to calm the rapid thoughts that have been bothering your sleep at night, it only sends you towards a different kind of waking world, with vivid images coming to you in your sleep.

You open your eyes to find yourself standing on top of a cliff. The rocks around you seem almost as menacing as the rocky walls atop Mount Orrum, yet with patches of green grass and sand appearing here and there on the ground you are walking on. Before you can stop yourself, you walk up to the edge, and you are presented with a stunning look of the wide spread ocean opening up before you.

Steady water appears as far as your eyes can see, though you can see and hear the rapid waves hitting the sandy beach and the rocks below. For a moment, you hear nothing but the waves and the passing breeze, until a soft hum begins to reverberate through the air, passing together with the breeze flowing around you.

Like an enchantment, it calls out to you, luring you towards the rocky walls formed on the other side of the cliff. It isn’t until the moment you start walking towards the voice when you realise that you are completely barefoot. Looking down, you see the sand slipping between your toes, mud soiling the ends of your dress as you keep advancing forward steadily, yet you cannot feel a thing. Nothing except for the warm breeze falling on your skin and the invisible fingers brushing through your hair as you keep on walking.

You look up once you reach the cliff’s wall, and your heartbeat starts racing.

Right there, leaning against the rocky wall where the standing grey slate of rock roughly splits, appears a man standing with his back leaning against the rocks. He is wearing an all black attire with a robe hanging from his shoulders. Both the robe and his hair are dancing with the breeze, while his eyes appear as if they are glowing under the sunlight. An amulet necklace with a shimmering black crystal is seen hanging from around his neck, and your necklace seems to be oddly vibrating the more the glow appears before your eyes.

With unwavering gaze, the man steps away from the rock and makes his way towards you. Even his movements seem to captivate you, keeping you frozen right where you are standing, unable to move or to look away from his handsome face.

“It’s you,” he whispers to you as he stands right before you. His voice sounds like a spell as it drifts around you, enveloping you with its warmth.

“Do you know who I am?”

Instead of answering your question, the man simply smiles. His eyes drift down to your collarbone, understanding gleams through his gaze when he sees the necklace you are wearing. “The necklace,” he murmurs while reaching out to brush gently across the engravings on the golden framed pendant without touching your skin. There is a glint in his eyes which shows how astounded he is at the sight of your mother’s necklace hanging around your neck, as if he had just gotten an answer to a riddle that he could never solve. “Of course. I should’ve known.”

“What do you mean?”

He looks up to meet your gaze and slowly pulls his hand away. Instead of answering you, he merely speaks in riddles when he talks again, “I’ve been searching for you for a very long time. But you were kept hidden from me, even when you were so close to find.”

His words confuses you. “I’m right here,” is all you can say, and for some reason, it draws another smile to his face.

“Yes, here you are,” he says, though the expression on his face suddenly changes, and he looks crestfallen once his smile is gone. “But you cannot stay. I wish I could make you stay just a bit longer.”

But, why? You find yourself wondering, but the words refuse to come out. You suddenly feel yourself drifting away. As if he can feel it too, he reaches out to you one last time, touching the strand of hair that has fallen on the side of your face. You can feel the tip of his fingers brushing against your cheek, and you find yourself closing your eyes and leaning into his touch to embrace it.

“We will see each other soon, though. I can feel it,” he whispers, then all of a sudden, his touch disappears. You open your eyes as he pulls his hand away, and you fall silent as you watch him bending down, taking your hand in his before pressing his lips on the back of your hand. The touch of his lips leaves a tingle on your skin, one which lingers even after he releases you. And then, together with the loss of his touch, the world around you begins to fade. “I’ll come find you, Princess. I promise. This time, I’ll be able to catch up with you.”

“Wait!” you try to call out to him, but to no avail. Because everything vanishes all so suddenly.

The cliff and the ocean, and the captivating man who had just made both your hollow heart and your lonely soul come alive, all fade together as you are brought back to the familiar waking world just when the dawn comes.  

— © 2023 @yoonia​, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[nomsfaultau]

Important PR Response to the Wilbur Soot scandal:

    Abuse in any form is abhorrent, and I condemn Wilbur’s actions. Previously I had established the division between people and personas in my work. I failed to reiterate the stance during the course of Fault, and would like rectify this now. I work with characters and not creators.

No works will be deleted. I will be continuing to use Wilbur Soot as a character only in preexisting works. Fault, Mandatory Family Reunion, and back burner projects will continue. The preplanned plot lines will not be altered greatly, so don’t expect sudden deaths, character assassination, name changes*, etc. However, I am not certain about Lighting Lanterns to Bring You Home as it is Wilbur-centric so it may be abandoned.

The current plans for this blog’s future are as follows:

- My characters be tagged as ‘Noms Wilbur’ or ‘SCP Wilbur’ for people who want to block tags. If cc comes up, he'll be tagged.

- I will not be financially supporting Wilbur in any way. I believe this is an important component in any Death/Disavowal of the Author situation. My fics are unlikely to contribute to further monetary/platform support that facilitates the further harm of the victim/s.

- No new AUs will involve Wilbur, so as projects finish he will be phased out more and more. Though keep in mind Fault is an extremely long term project.

- For those who wish to disconnect from the fandom entirely and stop following this blog, I wish you the best. Genuinely. This is a rough situation.

If anyone has any respectful and reasonable questions/comments, the ask box is always open. Please do not engage in bad faith; I am trying to do my best here. Below the cut I discuss my personal justifications and philosophies upon the matter. I’m not trying to force them on anyone, so please return the same courtesy.

    My reasonings: As I said after Technoblade’s death, I’ve poured a little too much of my soul into this to stop. I fully understand the people who have walked away, because I also feel sick and angry and sad and just— betrayed that this person I admired and enjoyed was abusing the people around him. But I am not going to let Wilbur’s vile actions poison the pride in the art I’ve made. And the fandom? We built it, not him. These are our stories and our drawings and our joy. So many other wonderful creators and fans poured so much effort into this community. To me, it feels like a betrayal to Technoblade’s legacy to let everything be tarnished. And I’m just not ready to lose this fandom that has meant so much to me for 4 years.

    I’m going to try for a little nuance here, a dangerous game on Tumblr I know. But part of the betrayal that I’m sure many of us are feeling is the thought we were tricked into liking a bad person. I have a friend who has been pouring over all of Wilbur’s content the last few days, desperate to find all the red flags they missed, painting every single thing he’s ever done with the knowledge of the things we couldn’t have known. And it’s not healthy for them, or anyone. In many stories we like to have a clear cut good and bad guy, because it’s easier if it’s true. The abuser becomes a cartoonishly evil caricature that makes it harder to recognize them in real life, and it makes real victims seem stupid for being hurt when shouldn’t it be so easy to tell? But it’s not, it’s messy, and complicated, and awful. Because in real life, abusers are people, and they can do good things like charity streams and making you laugh when you’re having a bad day and fostering wonderful communities of creative, amazing fans. They seem generous, and kind, because…they are. And they’re also abusive. And it’s really hard to hold both truths at the same time, which is why people prefer jump to extremes of defending and demonization. We like to believe the people we like are good people.

    Truthfully, I don’t believe in ‘bad people’ which is probably evident in much of my writing. I find it a category that too often used to discourage growth, remove culpability, and dismantle nuance. The moment people become monsters there is no question of rehabilitative justice, no question of what conditions and structures enabled this that need to be mended, revised, or replaced. The question becomes how do we destroy the monster instead of how do we protect future victims. Remove support from Wilbur, yes, but the next step is to give that support to Shubble. Mobs are fun. They feel right. But monsters don’t exist, people do, and people are complicated and abuse is complicated and their solutions must be accordingly nuanced. Sticking one guy’s head on a pike might ‘save’ the victim (which: Shubble saved herself), but it doesn’t support them in the long run. And it certainly doesn’t address the underlying personal, mental, and societal problems that caused someone to be abusive and allowed them to be undetected. And if anything, when put in a corner most people only get more desperate and dangerous to others and themselves. Justice requires far more effort than monster hunting, which is why it is often rare. And like we already discussed, people are often bad at detecting when someone is abusive. I’m not saying Wilbur is innocent, obviously. I’m saying demonization is a dangerous game and most people have done good and bad.

    But also, most people aren’t abusive pieces of shit.

    I don’t want to demonize Wilbur, but also I’m not going to wipe my hands of it by throwing my hands up, claiming there’s too much nuance blah blah morals are complicated, and then not actually hold him accountable. Wilbur does not deserve a platform with which to perpetuate his harmful actions. In reaction to this, we need to build systems and communities that don’t enable abuse, to support victims, and to help abusers become better without giving them the opportunity to hurt other people or themselves. Which, you know, is *slightly* outside the scope of one SBI fanblog, but I’ll do my best and pray others choose the same.

    I understand people who want to raze everything he’s ever touched, to delete all their fan works and eviscerate their love for anything involving him. I really, really do. I feel nauseous every time I try to write. But I’m trying to not throw the baby out with the bathwater, because I’ve found a lot of good here and I refuse to abandon it. My enjoyment of the story and community Wilbur helped inspire does not condone the bad he’s done, nor do I support him financially or emotionally. It’s a really difficult line to walk, but this is where my morals fall at least. I want to reclaim the joy I used to have.

    I hope Shubble is able to recover and heal from the harm done to her. She’s a wonderful person and is lucky to have friends and a community that have supported her in this time. I’m glad that the fandom has (mostly) collectively disavowed her abuser instead of exploding into controversy and a ‘he said-she said’ toxic mess a la Dream style, even if it hurts knowing much of the community we’ve built has been destroyed. Lastly, I pray Wilbur will become a better person. I would like to believe anyone has the capacity for redemption, but that is a decision entirely within his hands alone at this point. As for me, I will simply do what I think reduces harm and uplifts joy.  I may be wrong, but I will continue to do my best.   

Again, if anyone has any respectful and reasonable questions/comments, the ask box is always open.

[griseldabanks]

Comfyvember 16

Story: Captain America Prompts: Carrying — Reading aloud — Loving gaze

Note: This takes place in my Whole Shards AU, after the end of my fic Take Me In. Check it out if any of this makes you curious!

“Okay, buddy—bedtime.”

Jake looked up at Steve with huge, plaintive blue eyes. “But Daddy, I'm not tired at all.” The effect was ruined somewhat by his jaw-splitting yawn.

Bucky hid his smile behind his hand, wondering how Steve could keep a straight face as he said, “It's bedtime whether you're tired or not, Jake. Come on, come pick out a bedtime story.”

Reluctantly, Jake got up from the coffee table, where he'd been showing Bucky how to make a LEGO car. But then he looked at Bucky and brightened. “I want Bucky to read my bedtime story!”

“If that's okay with Bucky,” Steve said, scooping Jake into his arms.

“Uh...okay.” Bucky trailed after them into Jake's bedroom, trying to remember if he'd ever read a bedtime story to anyone before. Usually his mom would tuck his sisters in when they were little. He'd read to Steve sometimes when he was sick....

He'd been back for a week now, but Jake still insisted on doing everything with Bucky. He insisted on sitting next to him (if not right in his lap), he grabbed Bucky's hand any time they went walking, and every time Bucky turned around, Jake was there to proudly show off one of his books or toys or games, or to ask him to color with him or something.

Bucky wouldn't have been surprised if Steve were a bit jealous that suddenly Jake seemed to have swapped out who his favorite person was. But every time Bucky looked over at Steve, he saw nothing but a fond smile.

“First you gotta tuck me in,” Jake said bossily as he clambered into bed.

Bucky glanced furtively at Steve, who just sat in the rocking chair across the room and settled in to watch. No help at all.

“Um...like this?” Moving clumsily with only one hand, Bucky pulled the sheet up to Jake's chin. It didn't look right, but Jake tucked it under his arms without complaint and patted the empty space at his side.

“Now sit here and read so I can see the pictures. That's what my daddy does.”

Great. Being reminded of Steve Rogers, Father of the Year and Best Reader of Bedtime Stories, was exactly what he needed right now.

Gingerly, Bucky perched on the edge of the mattress next to Jake's pillow, then picked up the little book he pointed to on his bedside table. It was a picture book about rabbits, apparently, called Runaway Bunny.

“I can help turn the pages,” Jake offered, sitting up and leaning over Bucky to open the book. Jake was always on the lookout for things Bucky struggled to do with only one arm; he wondered sometimes if Steve had told him to do that.

Clearing his throat, Bucky started to read. “Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away. So he said to his mother, 'I am running away.'

'If you run away,' said his mother, 'I will run after you. For you are my little bunny.'”

As he continued, reading the series of fanciful ideas the little bunny had for escaping his mother's grasp, Jake snuggled up closer against Bucky's empty left side. Jake reached over to turn the pages while Bucky held the book in his lap, moving slower each time. He slumped heavier and heavier against Bucky, until his hand lay still at the final page.

Bucky flipped the last page one-handed and read, “'Shucks,' said the bunny, 'I might just as well stay where I am and be your little bunny.

And so he did. 'Have a carrot,' said the mother bunny.”

And that was the end. A silly end to a silly book...so why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

He looked down at Jake, fast asleep and practically lying in his lap now. The little boy who used to be so stiff and nervous around him, sure that at any moment someone would lash out or yell or punish him...and now his cheek lay pillowed on the thigh of a deadly assassin.

Slowly, Bucky set the book aside again and dared to reach out with a finger that had pulled the trigger so many times...and he lightly, ever so lightly, brushed a tuft of dark hair out of Jake's face.

Over in the rocking chair, Steve was wiping away tears. What a sap.

Bucky held his breath to keep the sobs inside so he wouldn't wake up Jake.

[kaepop-trash]

Will you ever write another part to fox and hen? I'm dying to know what happens after

Does she let him go? Does he come back? Does Doyoung really hate her as much as he think he does?

I'm hoping you will write one of your miscellanous for this but if you don't I obviously understand. Doyoung's my bias and I've read so many of his fanfiction here. But nothing has hooked me like that one haha

The Fox and the Dog

This sounds so urgent anon is everything okay?😭

You are probably the only other person who wants this story. But the other is me, so here we are. The way you said "Does Doyoung really hate her as much as he think he does?" is really, truly got me stuck on writing this. I will actually never turn away a Doyoung miscellaneous request and that is a fact and a promise. It's 5am and why am I always here like this? I have work in a few hours. 5am me says this is fine so we let her have it.

This ask refers to this fic.

_

Pairings: Doyoung×Reader ft. Jaehyun

Tags: crime au, assasin×detective, assassin×handler, harmful

Synopsis: When a police officer discovers where a killer lives, running is the only option. When the killer lets the officer go, there are consequences. What happens when he finds her again?

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, stitches, blood, weapons, trigger warning for pain; suggestive sexual content, kissing, nudity, rough handling; everybody is crazy in this one; unironic use of 'who did this to you?'; I have to emphasize that everybody is batshit crazy in this one. Characters in no way represent the people (duh)

WC: 3.6K

_

She emerged from her shower, skin prickling from the assault of the cold air. Despite growing up in such freezing weather, she could never bring herself to find it anything but distasteful. 

One of her scarves lay on the floor as she walked passed her wardrobe. Picking it up, (Y/N) reached into the top dresser drawer where all her silk items were kept. She reached under the layers of clothes to the bottom, the sound of a gun cocking making her stop.

"No wonder it's not where I put it." She scoffed, her hand gripping tight around the next best thing. With her free hand, she threw the first item she could find— her hairbrush. Using the distraction she pulled out a knife, the one she kept just below the gun in the dresser. Before she could turn to face the perpetrator, her body was thrust into the wall, a hand coming to grab the wrist that held the knife.

Her struggles stopped when she met the distinct fox eyes.

"Oh, it's just you." She relaxed in his hold. "I could have killed you Doie. You need to stop coming into a lady's house uninvited. You didn't even let me get dressed." (Y/N) clicked her tongue, a smirk emerging when his a tinge of scarlet bloomed under his eyes.

The towel she had around her waist was now laying on the floor between them, the silk pajama top she wore on top with only two buttons done. The only thing she had on. Doyoung didn’t notice any of it till that moment.

"I'm the one who's going to kill you." He spoke through his teeth, pressing the gun against her jaw. She had to lift her head, looking down to keep her gaze on him as a result.

"I heard they fired you. My condolences." She smiled.

"Because of you." He pressed the barrel harder, the cold metal stinging her skin.

"Don't blame me for your obsessions, Detective. You did this to yourself."

"I was right." The gun eased against her neck, "I knew you left the country, that you came somewhere safe. Close to someone who can protect you." He traced the weapon down her front, the two buttons clicking when it moved against them. She took in a quick breath at the sudden sound— a minuscule action that betrayed her fear. Doyoung seemed to catch on, his eyes dancing with victory.

"You're enjoying this so much." She bit the corner of her lips. "Is that why you're so hard? Sick little freak." She giggled, "Here I thought it was because of how close my bare cunt is to you right now." She tried to raise her hips closer to his, but Doyoung dug the gun into her diaphragm, making her gasp.

"I am not hard." His words whistled from between his tight jaw, face only turning more red.

"No? Why don't you come close and show me?" She raised a leg, wrapping it around his waist. 

When she tugged him closer, he resisted with all his force.

Her eyes lit up, "Come here so I can feel how bad you want me, Kim Doyoung." She used the anchor around his waist to bring herself closer to him. 

The angle gave her the upper hand. Feeling like he'd lose the hold he had on her, Doyoung had no choice but to come closer. Both of their eyes struggled to stay open when they touched. Doyoung's jaw set tighter than before.

"Is it the thought of taking me or killing me that has you so aroused, Detective?" She whispered, pressing against him harder. "Both, perhaps?"

Doyoung put his hand on the wall beside her, using it to push back while still maintaining his balance.

"Who did you run to, Birdie?" He used her code name. "Who is protecting you?"

She didn't answer, skin breaking into goosebumps as he bought the gun lower. The cold metal slid over her bare skin that was still warm from the shower. Just as her lips parted, he stopped, the barrel resting just above her belly button.

"Who did this to you?" He questioned. Her eyes fluttered open to find his eyes fixed on her torso, forehead gathered. With a huff, she unwrapped her leg, pushing away from him and back into the wall.

Following his gaze, she already knew what he was referring to. Her eyes came on the wound that had only just healed, the puncture of the stitches still visible around the raised skin.

Looking at it brought the memory of the day back. She pulled her gaze away.

"You did." She waited for his gaze to come back up, eyes laced with confusion and rage at the unjustified accusation. He parted his lips to respond, but she continued. "A bottom of the barrel detective figured out where I lived and managed to break in."

"Twice." He interrupted to remind her.

She licked her lips, continuing. "And he managed to escape unharmed as well." His gaze bore into hers, she had to remind herself not to look away. "A mistake like that doesn't go unpunished."

Doyoung faltered at the words, flexing his fingers around the gun to remind himself why he was there. Her chin dropped, and he finally got a good look at her eyes, the edges bloodshot. His gaze dropped to her pale lips just as her equally pale tongue emerged to wet them.

He looked back up when her lips twitched, dragging the gun lower. The top pressed against her injury, the mildest force making her flinch. The area was tender.

"Was it a knife?" He asked.

She scoffed, head tilting to look at the dresser beside them. Doyoung followed her gaze, stopping on the candelabra that sat on the surface. The pricket on top was broader than most, meant to hold thicker candles. Despite looking slender, the edge looked rounded. The width was also much smaller than the long stitch on her stomach. Whoever did this twisted it in, the dull top making it more painful than was necessary. It had to have been intentional. And cruel.

"Who did this?" He asked again, eyes coming back to hers.

"Why did they fire you, Doyoung?" She questioned.

He recalled the day, his mouth tasting bitter. The chief of the federal team walked up to his tiny cubicle, his face red. He asked Doyoung why he was searching for names that had no relation to the murder of the senator they were officially investigating. All Doyoung said was that he was covering his bases. The next day his things were packed in a box and kept on the curb. The name he searched for led him nowhere too, but the chief's actions only made his suspicions turn into an insatiable itch.

"Who is Jae?" Doyoung responded with yet another question. He noticed it clearly then, the colour draining from her otherwise unreadable eyes— fear. It was hard not to notice it. "Was he the one who did this to you?"

"I have never heard that name in my life." Despite the words, she swallowed. "Are you here to play doctor? I thought you wanted to kill me?"

"Is it a name or an alias like yours?" He persisted.

"You need to be quick, Doyoung. I will have to hurt you once I get out of your hold. I don't plan on moving again anytime soon."

"Is he your handler?"

"You don't understand what you're getting yourself into." She snapped. With one swift kick, she kneed his stomach. Doyoung fell back with an audible huff, the impact knocking the gun from his hand. She was on top of him before he could recover, her knife pressed against his neck.

"Think about everything I told you." She pressed the knife further when he tried to move. "You're asking the wrong questions," Doyoung felt his skin break. "Why did I have to move?" She asked him.

Doyoung stared at her with stubborn silence; she pressed her knife further, blood trickling down to the floor. The sharp sting permeated his senses, sending his adrenaline spiking.

"Because I found you then. And I'll find you again." He groaned, "If you kill me, they will know it was you."

"Think, you moron." She leaned over, "Why was I punished?"

"Because you let me go." His words faltered. "That was your mistake."

"I don't make mistakes." She looked him over. He felt blood trickle down his neck, his instincts going into survival mode. It had the unexpected side effect of clearing his mind.

"Do you remember what I told you back then?" Her eyes bore into his, and Doyoung remembered that look well.

"You were afraid." He recalled.

"Tell me, Doyoung. Would I be the one to say I let you go? When I already know the consequences of doing so?" Her eyes drifted down, Doyoung’s following to where he knew her wound sat between them.

She was so close to him that Doyoung could smell the soap she used— lavender and ginger. She stopped digging her knife in, but the wound still bled. He moved himself this time, letting the blade cut through more skin.

“You’re hard again. Is it desire or bloodlust this time?” She said matter of factly, making Doyoung realise that she was sitting on top of his crotch.

“You haven’t asked me to kiss you yet.” He evaded the question.

“I have no intention to. I told you I’d stop asking one day.”

“Lies.” He raised his head higher, fresh blood seeping out. She pulled her hand away with a jerk, a concerned frown darkening her features. Just like he wagered.

Without skipping a beat, Doyoung flipped them over. Despite her agility and fierce training, he could still physically overpower her with ease.

(Y/N)’s head throbbed from being banged twice now. His weight, along with the growing pain in her stomach, kept her immobile. She wondered if the wound would open up again. Her mind was begging her not to fight. 

She knew killers better than she knew how to breathe. Despite all of Doyoung's claims, he was no killer. Yet her instincts didn't know anything except fighting back.

When she twisted her waist, the pain in her torso blinded her. She whimpered in pain, tears collecting in the corner of her eyes. But it did what she intended. The move threw Doyoung’s balance off just enough to move him. But he was quick, grabbing her wrists and pinning them down like he had anticipated the manoeuvre.

Before she could think of a way out, he did something she would have never predicted. Doyoung’s lips pressed against her, shocking her motionless. He even dared to let one of her hands go, bringing his down to cup her cheek. 

Tilting her head higher, he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid over her bottom lip, prodding at it in silent question. She should have used her free hand to grab the knife that was close enough to graze her knuckles. Instead, her fingers flew to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair to pull him closer. Her lips parted, and she pushed her tongue against his, keeping the struggle going in one form or another.

He was close enough that she could smell the lingering scent of a cologne on his shirt, peppery and fresh. She wrapped her leg around his waist, and this time he pressed flush against her. His tongue fought for space, a chance to devour her lips. His urgency was as intoxicating as it was worrisome. She distantly wondered just how much he'd wanted to do this. For just how long.

She wanted to tease him, to call him out on it. But more important preoccupations took her time.

His lips left hers to travel down her neck, his kisses fast and coupled with harsh tugs from his teeth. She laughed, the sound breathless and barely audible, moving her head to allow him space. As her ear touched the floor, she heard it. Faint footsteps against the wooden staircase.

She froze, using her fist to pull his head back. He didn't move, his kisses turning rougher. A groan left his busy lips in protest.

"Doyoung." She winced at a particularly hard bite, tugging his hair back with force.

"Sorry." He said once the colour of his eyes changed from lust to realisation. Those same eyes were blown out, lips bubblegum pink. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

She didn't have time to take in the guilt that seeped into his features.

"Get off me, someone's coming." She hissed, tugging at the hand that was still in his grip.

He looked partially confused, partially suspicious.

"Someone's walking up the stairs, nobody lives above this floor. Move!" She kicked her legs with more urgency. "You have to trust me. Get off." She added.

To her surprise, he listened. Something she also didn't have the time to dwell on. She dragged him across the room, opening her wardrobe. 

With unsteady hands, (Y/N) shoved a bunch of clothes out of the way, the small space stuffed to the brim.

"There's a panel on the wall there," She pointed inside the space to the side, "Get behind it and stay quiet. No matter what, do not move. Do as I say if you want both of us to live." She pushed him in, only having enough time to see him take out the panel she had made herself. Just as he was wedging into the small space, she shoved the clothes back inside.

When she turned to look at her room, her adrenaline spiked higher. The entire place was a mess. Things were pulled off all surfaces, lying shattered all over the floor. She looked around, mind working a mile a minute. A step she had intentionally loosened on the landing right below her door creaked and she knew she had one more flight of stairs.

Diving to the floor, she grabbed the gun and the knife, the latter cutting into her palm. She winced from the pain, wincing harder when she stood up and the pain jolted up from her stomach.

Fuck. 

The situation was pushing her tighter into a corner. Shoving the two weapons back into her drawer, she closed it as quietly as she could, the careful action taking time she did not have. In a panic, she made a last-minute decision.

She picked up the lamp Jaehyun gifted her the day she left the academy, the object the closest thing she could lay her hands on. It was a precious gift that she had protected through everything she had been through. It was the thing that symbolised the life that lay on the other side of the hell she had to keep walking through. She stared at the object with regret for what she was about to do.

The main door swung open just as the sound of something heavy shattering echoed in the overcrowded apartment.

Jaehyun came rushing into the bedroom, finding her on the floor with pieces of the lamp in her hand. She looked up, letting fear coat her eyes.

"I didn't," she looked back down, the tears that collected on her bottom lid falling to the floor. "I didn't do it on purpose. I was just so angry." More sobs racked up her throat, and despite her act she couldn't seem to control them. "I was just." She picked up another piece, a shard of one of the cats that was on the lamp. More tears fell.

"Hey." His voice was deceptively soft, "Stop it." He said with a little more bite, "You're hurting yourself." He snapped, kneeling down in front of her. (Y/N) flinched. 

He took her hands in his, prying them open to take the blood stained piece out of her hand to drop with the others, stained equally red. "It's fine. Just get up."

"But you got me this when–" She began, her words dissolving into tears.

"I know, it doesn't matter. What's done is done. Get up." He was gentle again, helping her stand up. 

He helped her to the bed, sitting her down and kneeling in front of her.

"What's wrong?" He asked, pushing her hair out of her face, "Why are you upset?"

She let more tears fall, "I want to go outside. I missed this city, I want to go to my favourite cafes, boutiques. But your broth–" She bit her tongue so fast that it began bleeding. In her mourning, she forgot about the man hiding in her walls.

"We can go out." He told her, "I'll take you with me. We can go everywhere you want. Anywhere."

"Really?" She asked, mustering the best face of gratitude she could have. Jaehyun smiled, reaching out to cup her cheeks and nodding. His dimples emerged, and she let them rope her in as they had done for decades.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, embracing him. She knew he would like that, but she realised it was a mistake when his belt pressed against the wound. She bit down any sound, but he heard the hitch in her breath anyway.

He pulled back with a frown, inspecting her. He must have realised she was naked from the waist down, but his eyes went to the now red spot on her stomach. His fingers traced the raised skin with a feather-light touch, but she had to bite down on her lower lip anyway.

"It still hurts." He said with sinking realisation. She despised him for the guilt that painted his eyes.

"It's fine. I've had worse." The words were more of a reminder than a reassurance.

"Let me stitch your hand up. The cut is deep." He changed the topic, the offer a veiled apology. She wondered if his hands would shake like they did last time. But she figured it was different when he hadn't been the cause of the injury. "We can go out for dinner after." He looked back at her with a kind voice.

"To the restaurant by the river? Like we used to?" She asked, and he nodded. Despite herself, the joy that came over her face was real.

_

She walked into the apartment and let out a deep sigh. The days had been more exhausting than usual lately, but today she was actually spent. Walking into her now clean room, she unclasped her watch to put it on the dresser.

"I gave you the perfect opportunity to leave. Why are you still here?" She looked up to the corner from where Doyoung emerged through the shadows. "We'll both end up dead."

"You have an infection. Sepsis. If you don't go to the hospital, you'll die before I do." He told her, walking up to stand in front of her.

She hummed, reaching up to take her earrings off.

"I'm serious." She could hear the furrow of his brows in his voice.

"I know. I've had a few injuries in my life to know when it's serious."

"Your wound hasn't healed properly from the inside. How old is the injury?"

"Is this why you stayed?" She questioned while running her fingers through her hair.

His eyes flickered to the movement, "You need to go to a hospital."

"You need to leave before someone finds you, Doyoung."

"Why are you not listening?"

"I heard you. I told you I know."

"Why didn't you tell the man about it? The one who came today?" He came closer, "If he could stitch your hand, I assume he would know what to do about this."

"There's nothing to be done."

"Was he the one who did this to you?" His brows remained furrowed, lips pouting to join his displeasure.

"Careful, Doyoung. You're beginning to care."

"You just need some antibiotics and a way to drain the puss." He sounded furious. Clicking his tongue in irritation, he took a few steps closer. He pressed his hands against his hips, wiping them once and keeping them in place.

"The only way you're dying is in a jail cell or by my hands." His eyes glimmered in the dark, boring into hers, "If you won't go to a doctor, let me do it."

Her lips twisted, amusement written all over. He tightened his jaw.

"I was a medic in the army. I know how to deal with infections." He spat.

Her brows lifted in surprise, eyes caught in rapid blinks.

"What?" His lips twitched, "Didn't expect someone as bottom of the barrel as me to be a doctor?"

"I didn't expect you to be in the army."

"I needed the money for college. And I needed the health insurance for my sister."

She looked at him with a careful gaze, "Leave. You've already dug yourself so far into this. A little further, and you won't have ground to stand back on. Go back to whatever your life was before this."

Doyoung listened to everything she said, then handed her a piece of paper.

"This is all the medicine you'll need. Get it before you get a fever."

She looked at the paper before looking back at him with an unwavering gaze.

"If you don't go, I will." He sounded resolute. She knew his every tell— he was not lying. 

She snatched the paper from his hand. "If I pick these up from any pharmacy, the wrong people will find out. They get a hint that I'm dying, and they'll only come to speed up the process.

"Not if you buy an item each from different places." He pursed his lips, her own twitching.

"I'm impressed, Doie. You have the mind of a thief."

"Better than the mind of a killer." He mumbled, sounding more flustered than he did spiteful. She laughed, turning from him and grabbing the coat she had just discarded.

"I'll be back soon, my fox." She waved before blowing a kiss, disappearing into the hall and out the door.

[jokeringcutio]

Arthur Harrow x Assassin Reader Drabble

Prompt Fill: You are an assassin hired to end Arthur Harrow's life. But his lentil soup changes things. (Dark but decent version) Fandom: Moon Knight TV Pairing: Arthur Harrow x (AFAB) reader Rating: Teen Warnings: Assassin AU, poison, reference to non-con drug use. For @nicktremblaywayfu

Drabble: Assassin and Arthur Harrow

The bottle up your sleeve felt hot and cold at the same time. A mixture of feelings, as if it were burning through your clothes. As if everyone could see that you had it hidden there, cap ready to be popped.

But not yet. You waited patiently for your target to arrive. Around you, others said at the table, making pleasant conversation. You were blending in perfectly, dressed in plain clothes. An ordinary disguise for a not so ordinary assassin.

You could have chosen many way to terminate the life if this particular man. Swifter ways, perhaps even less painful ways. A gun to the head or a knife to the heart. Instead, you had chosen to stay under the radar and use a poison that would be hard to trace. All you needed to do was slip it into his drink. Or his soup, you mused.

You knew the leader of this particular cult usually sat to eat with his peers as a sort of bonding process. He was usually quite reserved and would sit in his private chambers for hours, hardly letting anyone near except a chosen few whom he trusted. Poisoning him seemed to be the least hard of all the options you had at hand, and the least messy as well.

Nervously, you waited for his arrival. The girl to your right kept chatting to you about all the things she wanted to see changed in this world. And wasn’t that ironic? You smiled politely at her, did your best to appear at your most charming. You knew no one noticed the tenseness of your muscles or the way you expertly schooled your expressions. You’d never been caught before and today wouldn’t be any different.

Finally, the man you had been tasked to assassinate appeared. He was followed by a handful of men and women, all eager to brush their hands past his shoulders and chest like he was some kind of messiah. You looked at them with contempt and bit your cheek. Why were you feeling all hot and bothered inside at seeing how others touched him? It must be because you could tell he took delight in it, right? That he was used to being revered as some sort of God. You wondered if he thought of himself as so, or if he truly believed he was just the messenger, tasked to speak for his Goddess?

It didn’t matter. After tonight, he would be gone.

Arthur Harrow did not have his own spot at a table. Rather, he liked to sit somewhere different each night, following a pattern around the room. And if you had not been mistaken, he would be seated at your table tonight. He did not disappoint, for he came over to where you were, footsteps slowly crunching.

You had prepared a plan to distract him. And you would use the girls by your side to enact it – they were unknowing of how you would lure them into doing the thing you needed them to do, of course. It would make tracing you down as the culprit that much harder – if the cult ever decided to treat Arthur’s demise as suspicious instead of natural.

You had to suppress a smirk at the thought of how you were going to get away with it. But it was in that exact moment that Arthur’s eyes met yours, and you felt as if he could look into your soul. Your smirk had gone, like snow in the burning hot sun. Was he onto you?

“I think, I’ll sit next to you,” was all he said, then waited for the girl next to you to scoot aside. It was clear which spot he indicated. It was on the same bench you were seated on, exactly next to you.

Shit, this ruined your plans. You had not expected for him to sit next to you. Somehow, that scenario had been off the table, because why would he pick a seat next to you when they had already been taken? You had to recalculate. The upside of it all was that it would be easier to slip the potion into his food like this. He was seated at the right side, at the right sleeve. And the potion would not take effect till at least a few hours later. You could get away with it. By the time suspicions were roused, you’d be long gone, back on the plane home.

The girl next to you scooted aside to make room for her leader. She looked up at him with lovey-dovey eyes, like most of the younger women here, you thought. And even some of the men.

Arthur had his charm, certainly. Yet you were determined not to let him work his magic on you. You flexed your fingers and waited with baited breath for the man to take his seat by your side. You instantly felt the warmth radiating from his body, and picked up his earthy scent of herbs and spices that enveloped you along with his presence. Everything about him was enchanting. You would almost believe that a Goddess truly existed and had claimed the man as her own. He was like magic himself.

“So,” he said, and turned at you smiling. “Have you tasted the soup?”

He gestured with his hand at the plate in front of you. The watery substance didn’t look very alluring, but it was highly recommended to you by the chefs. Of course, you had taken it, not to break character. You forced a smile and looked up at him until the two of you locked eyes.

He knew.

You didn’t know how you could tell, but there was a certain glint to his eyes that told you he was aware of what you came here to do. That you had come here solely with the purpose to annihilate him. And that you would do it by poisoning his food. Soup was the perfect medium for it. A liquid that he would devour enough from. He always finished his plate.

“I,” you hesitated, not able to conceal you had not taken a single taste of it. Then you shook your head.

“Pity,” he murmured, voice low while he bend his head closer to yours. “I’ll tell you a little secret,” and then he whispered, for the others not to hear, “I made it myself.”

You felt the stir around you, noticed how the other young men and women at the table grew restless at seeing their leader confide in you in hushed tones. There was a certain jealousy radiating off them. Especially the girl to Arthur’s right, the one who had to scoot aside and had been happy to be seated next to him, at first. She seemed angry now that his attention was on you fully. So his charm worked, you thought amused. He has them all in his palm, but could lose them just as easily by making the wrong move.

“Try it,” he urged you. And unable to break your disguise, to give away anything that might prove his suspicions to be true, you slowly picked up your spoon and sipped from the soup.

It tasted… nice.

Good even. Heavenly. You had not thought that such a plain looking soup could contain so much flavor. And you eagerly started to lap it all up.

“What kind of soup is it?” you asked after a few more hasty sips. Your eyes found his again and you could not but notice the small smile that played on his lips as he slowly started to eat from his.

“Lentil soup,” he answered, truthfully. “I am a vegan, but that doesn’t mean I have no taste.”

And indeed, the soup was heavenly. You sat there, hip against hip, while the two of you sipped from your soup in silence. Arthur radiated a warmth that made his presence undeniable. Suddenly, a weight plummeted in your stomach. It was the realization that you had been paid to come here and to murder this man. This hidden five-starred homemade chef.

“They say that the way to a woman's heart is through her stomach,” you murmured, catching Arthur’s attention fully. He tilted his head and looked at you from the corners of his eyes.

“Is that so?” he murmured.

You smiled. “It appears that you will have no trouble in finding yourself a bedmate, Mister Harrow.” Something in his eyes glinted, as if you had unearthed some kind of hidden secret there.

Your retort had given you away though. The expressions of the others at the table should have been a clue as they looked at you in shock. No one called Arthur by his surname except for his enemies. And what you had just done, was betray your identity without you even knowing it. Perhaps you could blame the soup. It was making you drowsy.

“It seems you’re tired,” Arthur whispered near your ear, then turned to the men and women by his side. “Bring her up to my room. I think she could use a laydown.”

Then he was above you again as he made you lie against his chest, vision spinning, head dozy. "Lay her upon my bed," you wondered if you truly heard him say that. Everything had started to spin and sounds became dull. It all was happening so fast. You could just make out his eyes, burning as they looked down upon you, and feel how his fingers slipped inside of your sleeve, taking the vial out between the tips of his fingers. For a moment you feared it had gone, that he had somehow used your own potion on you. But you knew it shouldn’t have worked that fast.

It was a relief to see all the contents were still inside, and to see how Arthur tucked it inside of his own pocket with a slight hum. Then his hair fell around his face again, the imitation of a halo of an angel.

“I had not heard that expression before,” he murmured only for you to hear, his hands gently on the sides of your face. “The way to a woman’s heart seems to be through her stomach indeed. And I promise you, I will cook my homemade soup for you every day after this, if you promise to stay with me.”

Your vision blurred, and with that promise, your consciousness was gone.

AN: Sorry, it became dark again. Ugh. I can’t help it… I have been feeling under the weather even more lately. Can’t wait for tomorrow, new hospital visit, hopefully they’ll find something.

Anyhow. I suppose Arthur became aware of the reader’s intentions and drugged her before she had the chance to poison him. I imagine she wakes up on his bed afterwards and gets a good thorough fucking to be put in her place. I’ll probably try my hand at a fill for this prompt again as it is too good and has so many possibilities <3

[a-vessels-thoughts]

Decided to name this AU after Mukuro's Luck Talent.

"Makoto... What makes you the SHSL assassin? Like... I know you're a ninja, but-" his laugh cut her off, and she couldn't help but blush.

"Sorry, but I'm not really a ninja. I mean, a little, but I'm also kind of a spy, I guess?" Makoto explained, and Mukuro mumbled that was cool too. He caught it, judging by his smile.

"If I had to say..." Makoto continued, hand on his chin, thinking, "it's because of multiple factors, but the biggest one is my presence manipulation."

"Presence manipulation?" It sounded like some kind of silly rpg skill. Mukuro leaned forward with interest anyway.

"Uh, you know how I'm hard to keep track of, no matter what I'm doing? That. I can do the opposite too." She blinked at the last part; she didn't know that. The first, of course she knew, it made Makoto sorta... Clingy with basically everyone he talked to, since they could lose him at any moment.

"Can you show me the second?" Mukuro scooted back as if to give him room. Makoto hummed and nodded.

Then the entire world disappeared. It was only Makoto. The floor didn't exist, the sky didn't exist, she didn't exist-

"Uh, Mukuro? How was that?"

"Huh?"

Makoto frowned, and the question finally hit," Ah, it.. was? Sorry, I uh-"

"It's fine," he cut her off, "you know, I've also been wondering about your Talent. How does your's work?"

Mukuro couldn't fight the frown off her face. "They... don't know, not really. They know it exists and that I can negate even 100% odds, but... that's it. We don't know how I can control it, or if I even can." She hugged her knees. "The researchers can't figure out if I need to meet requirements, or if there's a cool down like that other guy's Luck, and it definitely doesn't work in cycles like Komaeda's."

Better than nothing, really. She didn't even know she had a Talent before this, but... Did it have to be Luck? Something so unreliable?

Makoto didn't say anything for a second, " you don't like your Talent," a firm statement, " I do, in fact, I'm jealous."

What? "How? Your Talent is so cool, and I didn't even know mine existed!" She sat up, staring him in the eyes.

He didn't back down, "that's precisely why I'm jealous. Mine manifested itself when I was young... really young." There was more to it, a haunted emotion she normally wouldn't dare touch.

"But you can go ghost like Toko or be the center of attention like Leon, or Sakura. You can fight like some sorta anime character, I-"

"-Had a normal childhood. No one who lived as a SHSL Talent can say that." It shut her down, took the wind out of sails right before she could get started. Guilt locked her in place.

She knew what he said was true. She could see it in the way Taka only thought in orders; how Chihiro decided to indulge fantasy rather than reality; how Kyoko saw everything as puzzle or equation to be solved; how Toko thought herself a camera more than a person.

And how Makoto never really talked about himself, only ever giving surface level details - even about personal things. Like he was afraid to get close.

"... I'm sorry." I'm sorry I'm still so, so jealous.

Revealed swaps:

Kiyotaka Ishimaru: SHSL Solider

Toko fukawa: SHSL Photographer

Mukuro can't just throw away all of her admiration, even if she knows the life of an SHSL Talent is a troubled one.

Also reuses and recontextualizes the fact Makoto barely talks about himself.

[msbigredmachine]

TARGETS - 21 - The Decoy

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organisation The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted.  (AU Espionage Story)

TARGETS MASTERLIST

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

Seventy-two hours later

0047 hrs

Providence, Rhode Island

Xavier Woods rolled his eyes for the hundredth time, wondering when the hell he was going to get out of this shithole. Ever since the attempt on his life a couple of months ago in Las Vegas, he'd been hidden away in a bunker in an elusive Courthouse in Rhode Island, where he would remain in custody until the process for his entry into the Witness Protection Program was concluded. Unlike the lavish comfort of the hotel suite at the MGM Arena, this place felt like a fucking prison. Being miles away from civilization, there were no distractions for Xavier to indulge in. No cable, no PS5, no Wi-Fi, and shitty cell phone reception. He was under watch twenty-four hours a day and he felt like he was about to go apeshit. Why the fuck was it taking weeks to move him into the Program anyway? Especially if they knew his life was in grave danger?

Outside, his door was manned by four FBI Agents, all of whom were lounging and reading day-old newspapers. A fifth agent rounded the corner with two boxes of pepperoni pizza in his arms. "About fucking time, I'm starving," one of the agents said, throwing aside his newspaper and opening one of the boxes his colleague set down on the table.

The sound of an alarm suddenly rang all around the Courthouse, interrupting their meal. The Agents instantly dropped their pizza and jumped to their feet, hands reaching for the guns in their holsters. Suddenly, one dropped to the ground, unconscious, a tranquilizer dart sticking out of his neck. The other Agents raised their weapons to attack, but how did one aim at an unseen target? Left with this disadvantage, another fell. And another. And another. Within seconds all five men were down, out cold.

Xavier shot to his feet as he heard sounds of a scuffle outside his door. Suddenly it burst open and a Courthouse guard ran up to him, looking harassed. "Follow me sir," the big, burly looking man said with a heavy Southern accent. "I've got orders to get you outta here."

Xavier's eyes widened, fear coursing through his veins as he recognized the huge man immediately. This was the absolute last person he expected to see here. And this was the absolute last person he wanted to take him. "You gotta be fucking kidding me." Backing away, he whirled around and sprinted away, searching frantically for the imaginary way out.

The guard rolled his brown eyes, his accent transforming instantly. "Why do they always want to do it the hard way?"

As he spoke, Roman whipped out his gun, the butt of the weapon cracking over Xavier's head and knocking him out where he stood. Roman caught him before he hit the ground. "Fucking arrogant, slimy piece of shit," the guard murmured, dragging the prone body of Woods to the vent grill in the corner of the room. He used a screwdriver to unscrew the corners and stuffed Woods through the small space. As he followed behind, Roman pitched a timed grenade back into the room. A gift for the Feds, if you will.

Several FBI Agents had arrived at the scene as backup, and they took their command positions outside Xavier Woods's bedroom. The leader raised his hand in a signal to lead the charge into the room. They threw open the door, rushing in when they saw a small object roll towards them. They felt the impact of the explosion before they could decipher what it was. All of them fell to the floor, stunned and temporarily blinded by the percussive grenade, but alive. Barely.

Worried, Jasmine spoke into her earpiece. "Spice to Aquaman, I heard an explosion. Are you okay?"

"Why are you Spice and I have to be called Aquaman?"

"Because, doofus, my name is an actual spice and you look like Jason Momoa. Where are you? Did you get the cargo out?"

A heavy sigh followed. "Fine. Aquaman to Spice. Affirmative. The cargo is in my possession," was Roman's reply, "We move now. Watch my six in case anyone's trailing me."

Jasmine quickly shut the titanium suitcase containing the laptop and communications kit and moved over to the driver's seat, gun cocked and ready for any hostiles. Roman emerged through the rolling smoke, Woods slumped and unconscious over his shoulder. "Well, that was a mess," Jasmine smirked, putting her gun away.

Roman rolled his eyes. "It worked, didn't it?" He dumped Woods in the back seat, sitting him upright so he would look like he was asleep. Roman jumped into the passenger seat. "Let’s get the fuck outta here."

Jasmine revved the engine and they drove off.

—---------

Xavier slowly opened his eyes and was met with yet another fist in his face. Roman and Jasmine had taken him to an abandoned duplex in the outskirts of Providence to interrogate him. They had been in there for a while and so far, he wasn't saying a word, and it was pissing Roman off.

Jasmine watched as he laid into Xavier again, the man's dreadlocks flying as his head snapped backwards in a painful-looking angle. "Roman, what are you doing?" 

"I'm working." Another punch.

"You're going to kill him," she pointed out.  

"That was my left hand, sweetheart. Take a seat. We'll be done in a minute."

Jasmine sighed out loud. She knew she was bearing witness to another episode of the Samoan at his most blood-thirsty, but now was not the time to be reckless. "Roman, stop."

He ignored her. He squatted in front of Xavier and roughly patted his cheek. "Hey! Woods, wake the fuck up and look at me."

Xavier didn't seem to have heard him. Instead he was staring at Jasmine, his battered gaze traveling up and down the length of her delectable body. Roman raised his eyebrow, incredulous. “Is this piece of shit eyeballing my girl? Woods! I said look at me! Are you going to tell us why both our bosses want you dead or not?"

Xavier finally turned his attention to Roman. His hands were tied tightly behind his back, as were his legs, and was at the mercy of two deadly assassins. But he remained as defiant as ever, almost as if despite the precarious position he was in, he still had the upper hand. Spitting out the blood from his mouth to the side, he glared at Roman. "If you kill me, you got nothin’," he taunted.

"Oh, nothing would give me more pleasure than blowing your fuckin’ brains out." Roman stood back up and shook his head, losing patience. Jasmine checked her nails lazily as she spoke. "He does have a point, Roman."

Roman leveled his girlfriend with a glare. "You think you can do better?" he challenged, thrusting his gun at her and making an exaggerated sweeping gesture with his free arm. "Go ahead. Let’s see how much information you can get out of him."

Jasmine uncrossed her ankles and pushed off the wall with a smile. Both men's eyes were on her. "I'm not going to need that," she waved Roman's gun away, and looked over at Xavier with slanted, seductive eyes and an even more seductive smile. Roman's dark eyes narrowed as he realized her little plan, and he felt his blood boil and his fingers itch.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Without waiting for her to respond, he grabbed her arm and dragged her away from Xavier and led her to a corner. Roman rounded on her, his face like thunder. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he hissed loudly. "You're going to seduce him? In front of me?"

Unbelievable! "Are you fucking kidding me? Now is not the time to be jealous!"

"What? I should just stand there and watch while you shove your tits in his face? Did you fuck him while you were with him? Is that what happens every time you've got to take out a motherfucker? Fuck him before you take him out?" Roman was livid. How many other men had put their hands on her, before and while they were together? How many had she allowed?

"This is literally not the time for this. Can you let me do my job? Huh?" she asked, rubbing her temple impatiently.

"I am only showing concern! You were his date that night. He put his hands on you then, and I am not cool with that."

“Seriously? Are you gonna stand there and tell me that in all the years you’ve been doing this, you’ve never fucked a couple of women to get the job done?” Jasmine challenged, “Look me in the eye and tell me that.”

Roman chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I was single then,” he defended lamely.

"That’s highkey the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard!" Jasmine snapped through gritted teeth. He was being exasperating. "I know you're tense right now and want answers, but do not take it out on me. Now take a break and let me handle this. As you know by now, I’m very good at what I do, and I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Do you?" he muttered under his breath, and he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. 

Jasmine glared at her boyfriend, unable to mask her hurt. She shut her eyes, calming, centering herself, and when she opened them again, she was cool, professional again, but there was an edge to her tone as she replied.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that to me," she told him curtly. They stood close, the air between them heated, tense. "I'm going back to talk to the hostage. When you're certain you're not going to make a fool of yourself, come back in. And you better not get in my way with your bullshit." She turned her back on him before she knocked his fucking lights out for disrespecting her like that. He wasn't the biggest person she had encountered before, not by a mile.

Roman watched her stomp away, his shoulders sagging with resignation. Yes, it was silly and immature of him, and it seemed like they were wasting time. But he just couldn't shake off the inkling in the pit of his gut that there was more to this situation they were facing. Woods was being too calm, too confident for his liking, and it felt like he and Jasmine were playing right into his hands.

Xavier smirked when Jasmine came back into his view. "Trouble in paradise?"

Her smile was gorgeous. "Forgive my partner over there. He's a bit...assertive." She reached up and pulled out the band holding her hair, letting the fair tresses fall around her shoulders. Xavier's eyes widened, and for the first time since his abduction, he looked a little nervous. She slowly approached him, her hair down, her slender body swaying, beautiful fingers on the buttons of her blouse. She looked absolutely ravishing.

"Xavier..." she uttered his name softly, "Xavier, we don't want to hurt you."

"We don't?" grumbled Roman.

"Roman, behave. We just want to ask a few questions, Xavier."

She moved behind him, her hand lazily trailing the chair, fingertips brushing his shoulder. She heard his breath catch as her fingers traced his chin, then his cheek. "We are aware of just how…controversial…you are. You've stepped on a few toes...pissed off some people. We understand that. All we want to know is why our bosses want to kill you, at such a high price for that matter."

She was close. She knew by the way Xavier's jaw clenched. He was struggling to hold tight, to remain stubborn. Roman was struggling as well. He gripped his gun tighter, his finger on the trigger, ready for anything.

Jasmine leaned down behind Xavier and let her slender hands slide down his chest, her face close to his ear, "That's all we want to know, Xavier. If you cooperate, all of this will be over. You have my word."

She waited for a response, then her eyes narrowed when she heard a chuckling sound, which she realized was coming from Woods. Standing upright, she looked at him in confusion and saw his head thrown back, laughing his head off. Jasmine and Roman glanced at each other. Something was wrong.

"Do you really think I'm going to fall for the tacky burlesque moves, sweetheart?" Xavier said, still laughing, but his eyes held a knowing, dangerous glint. "You're hot as hell, but not that hot, Jasmine...or is it Tatiana?"

Jasmine froze, staring at him.

"You tell me, Jasmine," Xavier went on. "Why would The Authority and F.L.O.R.A. come after little old me?" His grin spread at their widened eyes. "Yeah, I know exactly who both of y’all are. Of course you wouldn't know what’s really going on. Let me ask you another question; did you think your companies didn't know who each of you were? Did you think they appreciate this little romance y’all got going on, hmm? Did you really, Jasmine? Roman Reigns?"

Roman crossed his arms and glared at Xavier. Alarm bells were ringing in his head. But he couldn't quite point out why, and it unnerved him. "I knew you recognized me at the Courthouse," he said quietly. His hands were burning now. Aching for a kill.

"But how?" asked Jasmine, completely puzzled, "He's never seen you before!"

"Oh, but I have. They showed me your photos when they brought me in for this job." Xavier continued talking, sounding braver by the second. "You two are worrying about the wrong person. I'm not the one your companies are collaborating to take out."

Jasmine went pale. "Collaborating?"

Roman felt a chill course through his spine. The pieces were slowly coming together. "The hit in Las Vegas was a set-up," he said, turning to a stunned Jasmine. "This whole fucking thing is a set-up. It was never about Woods, babe. It was about us."

"Right you are, Reigns! Fifty points to Gryffindor! I'm not the target here. I never was. You are. Both of you. The Authority and F.L.O.R.A. realized your relationship could compromise them all, so they doubled up. They’ve been working together for months, trying to eliminate you both. And thanks to me, they're going to succeed and I'm getting the payday of a lifetime and my golden ticket outta this god-forsaken shithole of a country!" 

He grinned evilly at the two assassins. "So, with that being said, I hope you two have made peace with your Maker because you, my friends, are about to die."

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

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

I've given up on the tag list. But please leave comments, I still love comments! ❤

[truly-morgan]

[Alternative Universe, Foreign king and author]

MoShang | Scum Villain Self-Saving System 06-07-2021

One of the settings I really like in moshang AU is mbj still a king, but sqh is either some unknown author or someone who travels around while writing.

Like, something happens to mini mbj because lgj tried to get rid of him to get to the throne.

But then you have also mini sqh who just accidentally swooped in by accident and saved mini mbj, hence fucking up lgj plans. Found little heir in the wood all injured? No problem, he can help him!

Found a strange demon child locked in the middle of nowhere? No problem, he'll Find a way to open the cage!

Found a foreign child who was dropped in their region to die alone since no one understand him? No problem, sqh will help him find people that can take him back home!

Young sqh will just be there to help him and mbj will /never/ forget about it.

Cue years later, sqh practically forgot that weird thing of his past and just goes around trying to make a living by helping keep books account for Marchant and selling his stories.

But his stories are all signed with a little symbol he always as used (because he likes it That way and no one else does it that way anyway! Its original).

The thing is, the symbol is the same as what was maybe on a robe (or paper inside his robe) he left to mbj (poor thing he must be cold, take my outer robe!). Maybe it was on a little map he drew for him.

Some of his writings travel to the neighbour northern kingdom where King mbj catches some of them and recognise said little symbol from his saviour.

So he sends people to go find that author and it's a bit hard since sqh uses a pen name and isn't known despite some of his Really popular pieces. The kingdom is looked through and through, every scholar (is that the name?) Must send an example so mbj can review it.

Sqh is so scared and confused when this scary king suddenly gets to his crappy home to take him back to the northern kingdom At least this is what he understands from the little understanding he has of the language they use in the north when guards talk between themselves without telling him much in his own language.

When sqh gets there he stays mostly in his room, trying to warm himself without complaining, js fear of angering them, but his cheap robes don't help much.

He wonders why the northern king wants him.

Did some of his writing anger him? There's a reason he stays mostly anonymous and it's not just because of the rather erotic writing he does, but because he will critic the people in charge and how things are being taken care of, and it doesn't stop at his previous king.

He is actually surprised (and relieved!) That no one ever figured out it was him, listening to people either condemning him for his critics or praising him for his stories and poems.

But now he fears that the northern king has taken offence to his words towards their kingdom And now wants him dead. Wouldn't an assassin be better?! Not like he would be hard to kill?! Maybe the king is as ruthless as he has heard and wants to do it with his own hands?

So he waits in the room, hiding under the cover of the bed (it is also warmer like this) Yet no one comes to get him, only the servant brings in seemed to be the little belonging, all taken by the guard before coming here, to put them in drawer and chest.

He is finally called to meet with the king late in the day, but he is surprised when he is brought to A private dining room, where the king is already waiting for him. He is still shaking like a leaf as his sitting down (he now remembers why he stopped living near the border, it so cold up here!)

He doesn't dare say more than a polite salutation in the northern dialect (as best as he can do, his years working near the border coming to some help right now, even though he never learned the language fully).

It's, even more, nerve-wracking how the king himself doesn't speak to him more than also great him concisely.

When the food is brought to him he looks at it a bit uncertain, unsure if this could be poisoned or not, but under the intense stare from the man in front of him he does eat. And this is how his first day after being kidnapped went: hiding in his cover, eating anxiously and silently, going back to hiding in his room.

The only thing that changed in the following days is that he has started being more familiar with his room, where he writes while still tuck into his cover.

He also gets used to the couple of servants that come to his room for what he may need. Neither side fully know the other language, but they still manage with what they know (sqh is working on learning it a bit more by himself after asking for book that can help to learn his language).

Eventually little shivering sqh mentions that he is a bit cold (The winter where he lived was not as harsh as here!), which then leads to mbj taking him to his quarter and asking for a tailor to make him news robes to his size. of course little shivering sqh is confused as all hell because, /why/ would the man he assumes wants to get rid of him make him some expensive, pretty and warm robes?!?

But when he gets them not too long after he doesn't complain when he finally is not cold anymore.

meanwhile, he is still asked to eat with mbj each night, except if the man has a duty he cannot put aside (which, servant will take the food to his room instead). He slowly gets used to the man's presence and realises that /maybe/ he just wanted him around? For some reason?

they can even talk (although sqh does most of the talking) and slowly sqh realise that it's not so bad to be around mbj. He tries to keep himself from mentioning things that might be inconvenient to instead tell the king what he needs directly (last time he mentioned off-handedly that he was going to soon run out of paper and ink and the next thing he knew he had supplies that could last him for months! And months of /him/ writing a lot. mbj even gave him new expensive brushes!)

Then soon the routine of mbj coming to /his/ room to read the latest thing he wrote came, to which sqh was a bit nervous about when it was getting more political or taboo.

Yet the man would still manage to make him ramble about his thoughts on his original Kingdome slowly guiding him towards the northern one. the first time mbj did this sqh didn't notice until he was trashing some of the outdated ways the Kingdome was dealing with foreign exchanges.

yet, all mbj did was nod along, as if agreeing and not looking angry (sqh can proudly say he managed to read mbj micro expression, he knows now that he's not necessarily in a bad mood, this is just his resting face).

And what if slowly mbj gives him small important task. Like keeping account of something, then asking advice on small things, then giving him commands over some more important thing.

mbj slowly makes sqh someone important (because sqh can do the job very well) and sqh is none the wiser, doing the job he is given, happy when he is allowed to change the outdated ways to do things for something better.

sqh doesn't see it necessarily since he doesn't go out much, but everyone can see changes. They see changes because mbj listens and /follows/ sqh suggestions!

everyone working in the palace slowly starts to recognise sqh as more than the foreign writer, appreciating him a lot, especially since he treats everyone well (unless you do him wrong, but then mbj better not hear of it either).

Even more, those who have worked in the palace for years (even decades!) notice how mbj seems less hard than he was before, how he seems to really enjoy this new sunshine he brought from the south. The little smile he has when sqh rambles about whatever wrong thing he found or about something that could be done in a better way, no one misses those smiles.

In all this sqh falls in love with mbj, but this wouldn't be a good AU if it wasn't about to slow burn and ✨pining✨, so of course he feels like he cannot tell mbj because he is not noble.

Of course, while sqh is slowly rebuilding the Kingdome ways of doing things to be more than a war machine like his previous king ran it and bringing even better property, lgj is tuning back to see /how/ his nephew is doing so well, because he /shouldn't/ be doing so good after he made sure his education on running a country was minimal and focused on outdated ways that even him knows ruin the country.

And he very much does not appreciate the new little helper mbj safely keep near him.

cue lgj attempting to (without success) cause problem to mbj public image, trying to sabotage sqh ways of doing (which is hard since people here seem more than happy to follow this nobody words, ugh) and finally tries to directly attack sqh with the man own feeling towards mbj Or maybe lgj uses sqh to try and push mbj out of his throne, but of course, the little one cannot let it pass and he won't let it happen without a fight.

Happy ending of course, where lgj is taken care of and mbj finally confesses to sqh (he nearly lost him without telling him!) and they reigned over the land together.

Maybe at some point, mbj would tell why he was looking for sqh, that he saved him when lgj first tried to get rid of him. Or maybe sqh figured it out by himself when he finds the thing he had left to mbj when he helped him.

This is a setting I like and now I want to write a full-on fanfic but I don't have the energy for it (and I already have others started)

Original

[nicnsmth1]

Tale As Old As Time // Assassination Classroom

hero!karma x poet!shizuha/shinsuke (oc). fantasy au. oneshot. oc is transmasc and genderfluid with alternating pronouns (she/he/they) throughout. cliffhanger ending? no part 2 most probably. feat two other ocs (akifumi and chiyo). wc 2.8k

notes: this might be my first writing on tumblr (I mostly write for myself and on quotev TT but I wanted to post this hihi) so I hope it's alright, I'm making a little au series yippee

Kunugigaoka Castle

“Your Highness! There has been infiltration in the village over at the valley, we have to send our soldiers over, stat!”

Chiyo bursts out into the garden, her hair messy as her dirt-stained robe comes into view in the afternoon sun. It was another uneventful day in the kingdom and Prince Asano was busy with a diplomatic meeting with the general, Akifumi “Chiyo, can’t you see that you’re disrupting an important discussion right now?” The prince replied, simply rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his tea, Chiyo however was restless on her feet “That village is my home, my people are in danger, I can’t stand by and wait for you to finish your fancy lunch!” 

Akifumi clears his throat as he raises his cup of tea over his own lips “How big of an infiltration are we talking about?” Curiosity took over his thoughts, but as Chiyo gulped and sighed, her response let out an incredibly loud gasp from Akifumi “A dragon. Those ruthless, good-for-nothing devils set out a dragon to terrorize a village filled with innocent lives!” 

“Gakushuu, how are you so calm about this? Aren’t you supposed to keep this area safe or something?” Akifumi asked, definitely, it didn’t cross his mind just how big the scale of the attack was, but the prince remained unfazed “Our hero is already out for the quest, that’s why I’m not as panicked and stressed, general.”

Chiyo’s eyebrows furrowed as she stood up straight, steadying herself properly. 

‘The kingdom’s hero? Sir Akabane?’

Ever since the attack that brought the kingdom to the brink of war was single-handedly solved by a young traveler wielding a sword a few years back, he is well-known in the entire kingdom as their number one problem solver when things get rough—which it definitely was—but no one except the prince and a few guards have even seen him in action. It was as if this ‘Sir Akabane’ was just a legend, a myth even. Chiyo scratched her head, unsure of what to think of this new revelation “So we’re just going to stay here and wait? Is that it?” The prince grumbled in silence “Yes, that is it. Is there anything else you want to bother me with?”

‘Tch, rude.’

Taking her leave, Chiyo didn’t utter another word; that is until Prince Asano called her out one last time “Can you call Shinsuke over? The general is interested in his latest poetry collection-”

“Oh god!”

“...What is it?” 

“Shinsuke was on the way from the flower fields to the valley!”

The valley is filled with natural wonders and beautiful creatures scattered all over the hills and atop flower fields, which is why it is the best place for poets like Shinsuke to gain some inspiration as writer’s block hits them with a pang where forming sentences with even three words was hard enough to think of. It had been a few days since Akabane’s last visit to their hut in the woods, but it was enough for them to start overthinking where the young hero went.

To rehash, ever since their writing session next to their window was greeted by a redhead hero practicing his magic skills in the woods, he has not stopped begging for them to write a poem about him. Every quest he was sent to was then a chance for him to get the rarest most valuable item—not to sell—to send as a gift to Shinsuke who has no clue what any of those things even do. They’ve kept dragon teeth, phoenix feathers, siren’s scales, and even bones from fossils of unknown origin; Akabane was determined to convince them to write him into one of their many ideas.

That’s the issue.

As the giftings kept coming and his visits became a normal part of Shinsuke’s routine, they might have developed feelings more than annoyance towards the pestering hero.

This is the reason why they are now in a field of poppies and peonies, staring at the blue sky with their book in hand “How am I supposed to tell him that I’ve written him multiple dedicated poems already that I could make an anthology?” They asked themselves, staring deeply into the yellowed pages of their journal.

There was no hope, even with the beautiful scenery that was projected around him and the new ink and quill that Akabane had gotten him, his thoughts were stuck on what he should write that’s not about the hero. The sun was high in the sky and as the tip of the inked stationary touched the paper, he opted to close the book instead, packing his things and was ready to get back to the castle “Asano is probably wondering where I went,” he sighed, knowing that his childhood friend must be searching high and low for him whenever they haven’t seen one another for a day.

The prince’s family had been working with the Kamiya’s for a while, especially when it came to the arts of literature. Prince Asano and Shinsuke were just friends by luck, but nonetheless, they stuck together. However, Shinsuke’s younger sister was not a poet nor a writer; she was a popular bard who played her harp every noon for the townspeople; they loved her. 

Enough about that. As Shinsuke was walking back to the path he came from, he heard a loud crackling sound, almost like a thunderstruck out of nowhere. Screams and the imprinted footprints on the dirt were now noticeable to him and the initial shock was then washed away by even more panic-inducing signs of an attack; a gust of wind strong enough to knock down a few trees, a scorching heat from an undeniable flame starting nearby, and a growl of a dragon.

‘You must be kidding me.’

The town that she had passed by came into view and there it was, a huge dragon rampaging around the town with half of the houses being burnt to bits “Is it too late to go back to the flower fields?” Shinsuke muttered under her breath, but her frozen stature was then replaced with actual fear when the eyes of the beast locked on her in an instant. With no magical knowledge, no potion, and no weapons, she prepared for the worst.

SLASH!

“Mr Poet! Fancy seeing you around!”

“Sir Akabane?” 

 The hero jumped on top of the dragon skillfully, one slash over its wings and another stab to its eye before casting a spell on his palms to imprint it against the dragon’s body, engulfing it in a curse “We’ve got to lead it to the ocean!” Akabane shouted from the top of the dragon’s head before he hovered down by using a spell, grabbing hold of Shizuha’s arm with a grin, it was as if fighting a dragon and banishing it in the ocean was a casual task of his “Why me?” “You’re here already, aren’t you? Might as well join me on my ventures, maybe you’ll even get some inspiration for that poem of mine!”

The two of them started running into the woods, heading to a beach close by, the dragon following them blindly with a stomp with each step it took “Sir, I can’t run this fast-” 

“Is this an invitation to carry you, Mr Poet?”

“I mean-”

“Say no less!”

The hero jumped one time—casting spells swiftly as he went—and a light from under his soles shone before he was able to float “Grab onto me, won’t you?” Shizuha hesitated, her legs still running to catch up to him before she was left with no choice, it was too tiring to run “This doesn’t guarantee you a personal poem,” Akabane held her close to him, moving her body over to carry her in his arms “Doesn’t matter, you’re already red in the face, it’s priceless,” Shizuha looked away, but to no avail, Akabane laughed at the action taken “You’re always so predictable if I were to say one tease you’ll be hiding your face in my chest!” He stopped his sentence before continuing a few seconds after “Though, I won’t complain if you do~”

“Just get rid of the dragon that’s on our tails already!”

“Demanding aren’t we?” 

Shizuha’s hold around Akabane tightened when he plunged them into the ocean, the dragon behind them disappearing into foam the moment it touched the surface of the water whilst the two of them were protected by a bubble of air.

‘He really is the hero for a reason.’

Shizuha thought, seeing how quick his reflexes and casts were, it was no wonder people sought highly of him. After the initial shock of the situation, she finally could relax; the dragon was no more and she could finally go back to the palace. Resting her head against his shoulders, she sighed “I hate to say it, but thanks,” Akabane grinned, flashing his winning smile at the poet as he floated them out of the ocean as swiftly as he jumped into it “Can I send you back to your place by chance?” Shizuha couldn’t help but nod, not hating the fact that they were holding onto him at that very moment very closely; closer than they’ve ever had before.

Back on the surface, they went, and with an arm extended, Akabane ushered them over the dirt path “Come on, I’m sure the kingdom’s guards are fixing up the damages, it’s my duty to get you back home safely,” looking at him with a complicated expression, they asked, “Is this your ploy to convince me to write you a poem again?” Akabane looked away playfully “Maybe, maybe not, you don’t know that,” even with the infuriating answer, Shinsuke couldn’t help but admire his antics “Talking about your writings, you’ve never even lent me any of them to read before, I’ve always wondered about your renowned poetry.”

In truth, Shinsuke didn’t care if he read through them, but the problem was that the only poems in their satchel right now were the ones written about him “Another time would suit that-” “Eh? I thought you were away from your place for inspiration? Have you not?” He was perceptive and this was yet another problem that Shinsuke had to face as they walked through the forest path. “Well, taking inspiration doesn’t mean I’ll be writing at the same time, sometimes I just want to take a walk around the place and write at home.”

Akabane wasn’t convinced “You sure? Your bag is brimming with papers.”

‘Dammit.’

They quickly rushed to shove the papers down the satchel, but Akabane was faster in snatching it away “Let’s see shall we?” “Hey! Wait-”

“‘The Disturbing Beauty’, isn’t that a wonderful title?” As he was about to read the first line, his eyes widened and his steps went to a halt “Give it back already,” Shinsuke begged, knowing fully well they couldn’t take it away anymore, not when he was already scanning the words very carefully “Hey, Shinsuke,” they gulped at the first mention of their name “Yes?” Akabane’s eyes didn’t once move away from the page “You’re quite the romantic, I never would’ve guessed.”

‘Does he realize it’s about him?’

“I like writing romance, yes,” Shinsuke acted nonchalantly, but beneath that facade, he was deeply embarrassed and scared. No way did the witty hero of the kingdom not realize that the whole poem was written about him “You’re experienced in that field?” Akabane handed the page over, seeming to ignore the fact that Shinsuke was having a crisis in his brain as to whether or not to be alert with any future remarks on the poem “N-not really, I haven’t romanced anyone if that’s what you’re asking,” Akabane raised one eyebrow “Liar, if you’re not romancing anyone then is this poem just some platonic statements about me?”

‘So he does notice!’

“What are you talking about?-” 

“Don’t play dumb, Mr Poet, you know what I’m referring to.”

“It’s merely a romantic prose written, it’s not meant for anyone and definitely not you.”

Akabane laughed, reaching out for Shinsuke’s wrists in his hands gently. “If it’s ‘not meant for anyone’ then what about I ask you if you can make it meant for me?” Shinsuke’s face lit up into a bright red, pinkish hue decorating his cheeks and he tried not to just run off from the situation, was this hero really charming him? “Believe what you want, but my poems are subjective, they can be interpreted for anyone and everyone,” he tried to contain his feelings, but it was hard when his very muse was touching him oh so softly “Then I interpret that you’re in love with me, how’s that?”

‘Oh, he is so insufferable!’

Slapping his hands away, Shinsuke started walking forward “Then I’m not letting you read any of my other writings, you’re clearly reading them wrong!”

With that, he went ahead, leaving the stunned hero behind.

The next day

“If Shizuha doesn’t want to see you, who am I to force her to?” Prince Asano answered, looking down from his opened library window to the redhead hero on a horse “She’s with you right now right? I’ve brought her favorite flowers! Tell her that!” 

Shizuha couldn’t face him, not after she had been utterly exposed the day before and thought that hiding in the library was the best idea, that was where she was hiding. Despite that, the hero was persistent. It wasn’t the first time Akabane had given her her favorite flowers, but it was definitely the first time receiving a bouquet of it in the middle of her rest in the palace with her royal friend. The prince moved his head away from the window to take a look over at Shizuha who was in the corner of the room, burying her face inside an old thick book “I’m scared!” She silently shouted over “Weren’t you nonstop talking about him the last time you were here?” 

Moving the book away from her face, Shizuha showed her worried eyes “He’s a hero. I can’t be falling for someone so dangerous,” it was always in the back of her mind, no way was she willing to be with someone willing to sacrifice their life when push comes to shove and Akabane was the epitome of that very scenario. Someone safe in their home and loving literature like Shizuha was no match for the always-in-action hero like Akabane. “I’m not one to say I like that guy, but you can’t keep lying to yourself, he’s interested in you as well.”

It was so obvious that it was sickening to the prince. The many relics that the kingdom had the right to were just given away carelessly to Shizuha because of the hero’s adoration for the mysterious poet who keeps to themselves and if this kept going, the prince might as well just arranged a marriage between the two to get them out of the kingdom’s business forever “He’s giving me peonies! How can I say no to that?” “Then don’t, you’re being an incredibly tough crowd right now, either you go or no, hurry up.”

Stepping away from the corner, Shinsuke peeked over at the window and with just one look of their blond hair in the opening, Akabane’s eyes lit up as he extended his full hand of flowers “Mr Poet, care to come downstairs?” Shinsuke clasped both their hands together nervously. “It’s a bit of a long trip to go from here to the backyard,” Akabane tilted his head to the side before smiling “Jump out then, I’ll catch you.”

‘Is he being serious?’

Their lack of response was enough silence for Akabane to speak up once more “When have I ever let you go?” 

With one last look over at the fed-up prince, Shinsuke placed one foot over the windowsill before taking a leap down, both of their legs bracing for impact, but just as promised, Akabane caught them just in time and with a feather falling spell, it didn’t even feel like they just jumped down from that high of a height “For someone who isn’t in love with me, you sure trust me enough to take risks,” Shinsuke frowned, but their hands were on the hero’s face “Did you want to give me the flowers only or no?” 

“Oh, these? They’re not the main event, I wanted to take you out.”

The pink flowers placed on their torso, they blinked in confusion “Where to?” Akabane’s eyes met theirs as he spoke “Your place? We haven’t hung out for a while and I’d love to read about your inevitable crush on me~”

“I told you that it’s not about that!” It definitely was.

“Nonetheless, just us two, am I allowed to whisk you away from your dearest prince?” 

With one hand on the side of his face, tracing the line of his jaw and the movement of his lips with his own thumbs, Shinsuke couldn’t hide the excitement that was contained in this plan of theirs “Whisk me away all you want, hero.”

“I’m glad to do so, Mr Poet.”

[allwaswell16]

—Fics by allwaswell16—

[ 10k - 19k ]

Unraveled [E, 18k, bodyguard, fic post]

Harry Styles, recently retired UK Secret Intelligence Service agent, had not yet had time to become accustomed to civilian life when he was tapped by MI5 for a high profile assignment. They had reason to believe that Prime Minister Louis Tomlinson might be in danger, and they’d like Harry to act as his personal protection.

Whilst Harry was prepared to protect the PM with his life, he wasn’t prepared for Louis’ secrets. As Harry helped investigate the attempts on Louis’ life, he found a tangled web of political rivals, possible terrorist attacks, and family secrets as well as an undeniable attraction to the man he has vowed to protect.

No Easy Love (Could Make Me Feel This Way) [E, 17k, alpha/alpha, fic post]

There’s never been anyone for Harry but Louis. He had always thought their love would last forever, despite society’s pressures on an alpha/alpha relationship. When Louis breaks up with him and moves to Chicago, he’s suddenly left behind to pick up the pieces of the life they once shared. Instead of moving on, he finds reasons to keep Louis in his life and in the process begins to piece together what went wrong.

Or an Alpha Louis/Alpha Harry au where they get a second chance to make things right with the love of their life.

When You Know [E, 17k, assassin, fic post]

Years of living in the shadows has taken its toll on Louis Tomlinson. When he’s offered a chance to leave behind his life as a hired assassin, he intends to take it.

How Could I Ever Forget [E, 14k, Vegas, fic post]

After his boyfriend leaves him for a job in New York, Harry vows to move on with his life. A year later when their best friends announce their engagement, Harry knows he'll be forced to see Louis again and face the truth he's been trying his best to hide--even from himself.

Or a Vegas AU where Ziam's bachelor party turns into drunken karaoke, winning thousands at slots, washing your clothes at the laundromat in your underwear, and making life altering decisions that you can't remember in the morning.

Sit Next To Me [E, 12k, strangers to lovers, fic post]

Harry Styles of One Direction always gets what he wants. Well, nearly always. What he can’t seem to figure out is why the very fit man who comes to assist Liam’s tattoo artist seems to have zero interest in him. Is Louis Tomlinson the straightest man alive? Or does Louis showing up for every show on tour mean something more is going on?

Paper Houses [E, 11k, famous/famous, fic post]

When model Louis Tomlinson admits to having a celebrity crush on a very famous actor in an article in GQ magazine, he has no idea it will lead to anything. He definitely never suspects he will fall so hard and so fast for Harry Styles. When reality begins to interfere, their relationship is put to the test.

One Day You'll Say These Words [E, 11k, historical, fic post]

Growing up together in Yorkshire has led to a lifelong friendship between Louis Tomlinson, the future Marquess of Rotherham, and Harry Styles, the heir to a viscount. When Harry suddenly inherits his uncle’s title and estate much earlier than expected, Louis must watch his friend struggle under the weight of these new responsibilities, including searching for a wife with a dowry large enough to save his estate. However, sitting idly by as Harry looks for a bride brings some unexpected feelings to the surface.

A friends to lovers story set in the Regency era.

Over [E, 11k, exes, fic post]

Harry still thinks about the one who got away. Louis still wonders what went wrong with the man of his dreams. A year after their breakup, fate intervenes in the form of a photographer looking for strangers to pose as a couple.

Waiting [E, 10k, omegaverse, fic post]

Louis Tomlinson was Harry’s omega, of this Harry had always been sure. Unfortunately for Harry, Louis seemed to think they were just best friends. The six weeks that Harry has to live with Louis were going to be rough.

[Back to masterpost]

[backjustforberena]

Reposting. This will, in all likelihood, get rewritten but you know what, I wrote SOMETHING, so see what you think. It's an opener to the Persuasion AU:

Not that anyone had ever taken the time to ask her, but if Princess Rhaenys Targaryen had ever been queried on what she found envious about a dragon, the answer might have surprised. It was not the ability to fly away. She loved to travel and split her time between many keeps and castles that belonged to her family, but her family kept her rooted, and she had no desire to turn her back on them. Nor was she dreaming of being able to conjure fire from her belly. It was too destructive. Too untameable to a woman who had been brought up to be statuesque. Besides, she could spit her own fire with her words, her wit and her intelligence. That would not damage the curtains either. 

What Rhaenys most wished she had... was a dragon’s hide. She wished her skin could be adorned with red scales like Meleys. Impervious. Hard. An armour so that any slings and arrows would bounce off, or else only take shallow root, to be tugged out with barely a wince and soon forgotten. It would have made her life rather a lot easier, if she could not be hurt by words. By deeds. By people.

Her father had been slain by an arrow. A few months prior, on Tarth, straight to the throat. He hadn’t even been the intended target. A gust of wind, a light in a Myrish assassin’s eye. And her father; her constant and compass, who had guided her life for good or ill, had died coughing on his own blood. The Prince of Dragonstone, the King’s Heir so suddenly gone. She had not known it at the time, but another potential life of hers had been murdered that day as well. She would not inherit. She was Prince Aemon’s heir and yet King Jahaerys, her grandfather, would not name her Princess of Dragonstone. He would not let her sit the Iron Throne after he was gone. The title and all it meant went to her uncle. Rhaenys was left cold. No dragon hide on her to ward away that chill.It made her wonder what all that pain had been for. Why had she been so easily persuaded six years ago, when now, she would not do as she had been forged to do? They said love was the death of duty. Duty had been the death of hers. And now she was left with neither.

[yuujispinkhair]

So I really love sukuna and yuuji in ur yakuza au and i was wondering what yuuji's reader reaction to meeting sukuna and his wife would be.

Also does yuuji end up w his reader, megumi or in a poly relationship?

Aww thank you so much for sending me this 💗💗 It makes me so happy when I still get feedback for the Yakuza AU!!!!

I think Yuuji's girlfriend would be super nervous to meet Yuuji's big brother. She was already flustered by Yuuji being the Yakuza Prince. But Yuuji was very sweet and fun, so it was easy to "forget" who he is. But it's different with Sukuna. He almost never shows his real self in front of strangers.

I think the first meeting would be held at some high-end restaurant, so the whole setting would already be very intimidating to reader. And Sukuna is VERY protective of his little brother, so reader can be sure that those maroon eyes will watch her very closely and that the King of Tokyo's underworld will have a lot of questions for her. He is charming of course, because he doesn't want to upset his little brother, but reader knows that this smirk and the twinkle in those eyes are dangerous. It's like Sukuna is in her head, telling her, "If you mean any harm to my brother, it will be the last thing you do."

The thing is, Sukuna is always worried that the Zenin clan will send another assassin. And maybe reader is one who tries to get insider information by seducing the Yakuza Prince, and then killing him in his sleep. That's also the reason why Sukuna won't let reader talk to his wife alone. He needs to protect his loved ones from his enemies.

Once reader is deemed safe though, things change, and she is welcomed into the Itadori family. Sukuna isn't as intimidating anymore, and his wife is really sweet to Yuuji's girlfriend and helps her adjust to her life by the Yakuza Prince's side.

+++

I haven't decided who Yuuji ends up with. There are several possible endings for him. Initially, I thought he and Megumi would be endgame. But I also really enjoyed writing the reader inserts with Yakuza Prince Yuuji because I love to imagine myself by his side too....so yeahhhh it's hard!!

I have one story in my drafts, which is an alternate ending in which Sukuna really retired in his thirties, and the family moved to Switzerland and now lives a life far away from crime. In that story, Yuuji and Megumi are together. But that is just an alternate version of the main story, so it didn't really happen... There is also another alternate ending of the main story in which Sukuna dies, and his wife and Yuuji mourn him together and Yuuji helps her look after the kids, and she helps him with his new position as the Yakuza King. And it is implied that after several years like that, they become a couple while both still love and miss Kuna. I contemplated this ending but decided against it because I grew so attached to Kuna and loved him so deeply that I simply couldn't kill him. And I needed a happily ever after for him and his wife because this was my comfort story. So this alternate ending also won't happen.

Sooo you see, there were lots of possible endings for my dear Yakuza Prince Yuuji. I also like your poly idea for him. Maybe he and reader could invite Megumi into their relationship. But I think it's best if I just leave it open ;)

Thank you so much for your interest in this AU!!! 💗💗💗